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CLARA OSWALD : time heist

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i’m finally putting the finishing touches on maggie’s j.jba verse….y’all ain’t ready

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Enough of the trope where memory loss undoes the damage or the corruption or whatever. More content where removing memories just removes the context.

The tragedy of needing to grieve and not knowing what or who you lost or why. The angst of having trauma and being denied the awareness that it's trauma. The suspense of being different somehow and left to wonder how and when. The tension of knowing that something is off and you can't find where it hurts. The Adventure Zone gets it. Kingdom Hearts gets it.

There is an aching inside you and you don't know how it got there.

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Jenna Coleman || Liv Taylor in Wilderness

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“being a hero doesn’t mean not being scared; it means being scared out of your mind and then doing the brave thing anyway.”

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halloween prompts ˗ˏˋ ꒰ 🎃 ꒱

-ˏˋ. dialogue ˊˎ-

⋆ "what do you mean you've never gone trick-or-treating?!"

⋆ "i really appreciate that you're getting into the halloween spirit, but it's ten in the morning. please turn off the slasher films so i can eat my breakfast in peace."

⋆ "ah, you've made the mistake in thinking that just because this is a couples/family costume that you get any kind of say in it. you don't, actually."

⋆ "i love you, i swear i do, but we're not wearing matching costumes."

⋆ "do you remember what happened the last time you tried to carve a pumpkin?! we'll get laughed out of a&e if i have to haul you down there over this again."

⋆ "you're like the toughest person i know! am i really supposed to believe that a horror film is enough to have you cowering into my lap?"

⋆ "stop squirming, you're gonna mess up your face paint!"

⋆ "not to rain on your parade or anything, but since when are gingerbread haunted houses a thing?"

⋆ "please, i'm begging you. don't make me watch the nightmare before christmas again."

⋆ "should i be worried that you know how to replicate fake blood this well? i probably should be, right?"

⋆ "come on, if there was ever a time for me to be superstitious it's definitely now."

-ˏˋ. actions / scenarios ˊˎ-

⋆ carving pumpkins together

⋆ having a scary movie marathon

⋆ going to questionable lengths to decorate their house/apartment

⋆ passing out candy to trick-or-treaters

⋆ throwing a halloween party

⋆ going to a carnival / fair

⋆ comforting the scaredy cat amongst them

⋆ putting an inordinate amount of effort into planning their costume

⋆ going to a pumpkin patch

⋆ laying wide awake at night after watching a horror movie that left them unnerved

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🎃 Halloween 78′ starters 🎃

“you mean you actually never want him to get out?”

“i hate a guy with a car and no sense of humor.”

“he was standing right there.”

“seems to me you’re just plain scared.”

“what about the boogeyman?”

“death has come to your little town, sheriff.”

“still spooked?”

“well, it’s halloween. i guess everyone’s entitled to one good scare.”

“nobody believes me.”

“it happened in here.”

“don’t you know what happens on halloween?”

“i told them how dangerous he was.”

“you have the wrong feeling.”

“was it the boogeyman?”

“I’m never smiling again.”

“see something you like?”

“i wasn’t spooked.”

“i’ll kill you if this is a joke.”

“well, i’m here; i’m not about to let anything happen to you.“

“this has not been my night.”

“i killed him…”

“the old girl scout comes through again.”

“well, kiddo, i thought you outgrew superstition.”

“hey, creep!”

“your compassion’s overwhelming, doctor.“

“you’re serious about this, aren’t you?”

“ever done anything like this before?”

“as usual, i don’t have anything to do.”

“why didn’t you say anything? you scared me to death.”

“what’s the pumpkin for?”

“it’s hard growing up with a cynical father.”

“i’ll be right back. don’t get dressed.”

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would y'all be annoyed if i reblogged some halloween memes but answered them in november

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❝ — 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞'𝐬 𝐌𝐀𝐆𝐆𝐈𝐄 𝐄𝐕𝐀𝐍𝐒, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐢'𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐟 𝐠𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐩. 𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐰𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐞𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮? ❞

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❝ well, ❞   she teases in a sing-song voice, before interrupting herself with another long, drawn out sip — unlike vicki's, her cup is blacker than the night sky sans its stars —   ❝ i'd hate to rain on your wedding parade, so let's stay focused on the positives. he isn't dracula, i'll give him that. ❞   which is more than she can say for a certain other member of the collins family. but for the benefit of the bride, she'll keep her quip to herself.

❝ — and two, he's rich. ❞   she flashes her friend a cheeky grin.   ❝ so who am i to judge? ❞

@coffeejerk from here.

❝ hey. ❞

BROWS DRAW LOW in mock-offense as she finishes stirring her cup –– three sugars, and just as extravagant with cream ––  and plops the spoon in her mouth to lick it clean. Maggie was the very first she'd wanted to run to ( beating out Mrs. Stoddard and Carolyn, even, who will no doubt have her complaints about that later ) and she's fairly certain she's only teasing, now, but if she thought for a moment ––  REALLY THOUGHT ––  that she was against it ? well. not even becoming a Collins of Collinsport is worth losing Miss Evans' friendship over.

❝ now, what's wrong with Roger Collins ? he's got his faults, sure, but nothing too terrible. never seen him drink any blood. ❞

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maggie’s most iconic outfits: 1/?

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maggie and dio actually share a lot of traits, despite dio being an evil vampiric bastard and maggie being firmly anti-evil vampiric bastard.

alcoholism they inherited from their fathers? check

questionable fashion sense? check

memory problems? check

bouts of insanity? check

surviving hell and back through the sheer force of will? check

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Maggie do u still think I’m a jerk :/ - v

unprompted asks | ALWAYS ACCEPTING

❝ for marrying roger collins? ❞   she snorts into her cup of joe. vicki is less of a jerk than a saint among madmen; a breath of fresh air that bonkers family so desperately needs. getting involved with a collins is the last thing she would want to do, but we all make our choices, however incomprehensible they may be. who is she to begrudge her dear friend her own?

❝ — ultra jerk. ❞

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dark shadows ; episode 0001.

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the way i've never forgiven barna.bas for what he did to maggie vs my unabashed love for dio bran.do despite his crimes against women being 100000000x worse

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JOSETTE.

that cursed name. oh, how she LOATHES it — how it plagues her troubled dreams and invades her waking nightmares. 

my dear josette. 

barnabas' voice echoes ceaselessly within her skull, triggering a maddening barrage of unwanted memories. so sweet and seductive, his sonorous purr; so quick to change to an animalistic growl as he throttled her throat. willie’s tearful pleas ringing in her ears as she screamed for her life, then choked and gasped for breath. how many hours did she sob in vain for her father, until despair rendered her cries hoarse and her spirit utterly broken? and consistent throughout it all, there was always the incessant droning of the music box, and the dumb, vacant stare of that fucking portrait. 

my dear josette, you are such a LOVELY creature. 

is that what he wanted her to be? a beautiful girl perpetually frozen in a moment of time — a snapshot of corrupted innocence? the resemblance was certainly there, although the girl in the portrait lacked the weeping wounds on her neck, the hideous bruises marring her skin, the hollowed-out cheeks and thousand-yard stare. no, his plans for her were far more insidious.

maggie evans is dead, he told her with unsuppressed glee, and my josette has come back to me. 

how could he possibly make her understand? with gentle praise and persistent reinforcement, or with cruel teeth and battering fists? she never knew which she would receive. her thoughts were obscured by the thickest of fogs, and everything was all so terribly confusing. she drifted around the house aimlessly in those early days, lost in the melody of the music box, a blank canvas upon which to project his sick fantasies. a ghost of a girl.

it pains me to have to PUNISH you, josette. 

her desperate wails would give way to voiceless screams that went unheard throughout the night, her nails cracked and split from clawing at the coffin lid in frantic agony. and for what offense? she cannot remember, nor could she make any sense of it if she tried. he put me in a coffin! — a COFFIN! — that’s where she belongs, isn’t it? maggie evans is dead, and josette collins is dead, and barnabas collins is dead, and she is trapped in the HELL that he has crafted for her. 

how shall maggie evans die? 

it was more than relief she felt when she heard her name, her real name, spoken from his mouth, addressing her. maggie evans. i am maggie evans. her jubilant, cacophonous laughter echoed within the walls of her cell as tears of joy sprung to her bloodshot eyes.   ❝ yes! i’m maggie! you DO know my name. ❞   he called me maggie. MAGGIE!  an uncontrollable grin spread across her face, her eyes lighting up with joy for the first time in months.   ❝ see? i told you i wasn’t josette! ❞   her mad laughter followed him as he stalked away in anger, echoing through the damp basement and up past the dungeon stairs.

who is josette, maggie? 

the nearly-catatonic girl shot to life with a strangled cry, her hands pressed tight against her ears as she cowered against the wall in terror. her reaction was enough to shock even the perfectly composed dr. julia hoffman. the psychiatrist would raise her brow, lips pursed tight as she jotted down a note: acute psychological distress observed in patient at the mention of the name JOSETTE. her pen circles the name with vigor, her interest immediately piqued. 

do you know the legend of josette collins?

so many years have passed, but that name still haunts her. it infiltrates her dreams in an endless echo set to the music box’s tune, dredging up every horrible memory that she’s tried so hard to suppress. she can’t sleep because of that name. she wishes she could rip it clean from her mind, bleeding and screaming. she would give anything to scrub every last remnant of that hellish summer from her subconscious. any real progress she's accomplished, any small step toward attempting to heal, is all violently stripped away the second that name reaches her ears.

her regression is instantaneous, and obvious. a small whimper catches in the back of her throat, her jaw clenching painfully as she attempts to keep the flood of memories from overwhelming her. as is usually the case, she is only partially successful. but what else can she do but soldier on with a false smile?

after all, they'll never believe what happened to mad maggie evans.

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she was going to say that she would rather date barnabas collins than let the warlock get anywhere near her again, but they both know damn well that's a lie, even after the black mass incident. she'll settle instead for serving his coffee with crossed arms and a reproachful glare — yesterday's pot, lukewarm and stale, complete with enough grounds to choke him with one sip. it's what he deserves.

@devilagent