Tumgik
#casper cackles
stealingyourbones · 11 months
Text
Submitted Prompts #90
Another day, another rogue attack. Someone decided it would be a swell idea to hijack some high school reunion- why the alumni were meeting somewhere other than their home town, nobody knew. Or at the very least, the ones who did know aren't saying anything.
It was meant to be a hostage situation. The rogue was already in the middle of making their demands on Live TV, with the local hero(es) racing to track down their location.
Things went off the rails quickly when a young man's voice shouted, "FENTINA, GO LONG!" and another young man, whooping, flew fist-first into the rogue's face, knocking them both off-screen.
(After the fact, the alumni are lectured about proper safety measures, only for the man who'd slugged the rogue to scoff. "Compared to what we saw at Casper? That was easy mode.")
(Shockingly, the other alumni all nod and agree, all of them incredibly nonchalant for ex-hostages.)
1K notes · View notes
tennis-kittens · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Rafa having Casper sit next to him for emotional support because he knew that whatever would come out of Roger's mouth would wreck him 😭🤧💔
339 notes · View notes
wondrouswendy · 2 years
Link
Tumblr media
Chapters: 13/? Fandom: Control (Video Game) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Casper Darling/Zachariah Trench, Casper Darling & Zachariah Trench Additional Tags: Workplace Relationship, Boss/Employee Relationship, Sexual Content, Humor, Requited Unrequited Love, Case Fic, Road Trips, Romantic Comedy, Time Skips, Post-Canon, Time Travel Fix-It, Background Jesse Faden/Emily Pope, Angst, POV Alternating, Not Exactly AWE DLC Compliant, Canon Divergence, Eventual Happy Ending, Camp Horror, Pre-Canon, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Grief/Mourning, Psychological Horror, Temporary Character Death
As a heads up this chapter also contains some heavier themes so heed the tags! Thanks again for the support, and I hope you enjoy! This chapter and the last one are some of my favorites from this fic and I’m super proud of them! ❤️
7 notes · View notes
furiousladyking · 2 months
Text
It's a Date - Part 2
Tumblr media
Jake Seresin x Reader
A/N: This is probably going to be slow going, but I think I like it so far?
Summary: Jake Seresin is feeling defeated. His youngest sister, Brooke is getting married in 3 weeks, and he has yet to find a date. While he loves his family, he can't say he enjoys getting those comments from his mother about when he is going to find a "nice girl" and settle down. In comes Y/N "Casper" L/N, a prime target to get rid of the one on Jake's back.
Warning: probably incorrect military information, not really proof-read.
__________________________________________________________
“You said you would give me whatever I wanted if I agreed to come with you,” you started, pointing toward a coffee shop kiosk to your left. They had just made it through security screening. Being in the Navy had its perks, including the fast lane through the always dreaded process. 
“Casp, you want to spend your compensation on a coffee?” It was early, too early if you ask Y/N. Hangman begged to differ, he wanted to check their bags and head toward their gate as quickly as possible so they wouldn’t be rushed. It was a little hypocritical, but that wasn’t something you were going to bring up at this hour. 
“Oh, Honey,” you begin, with a playful grin on your face. “You’ll be giving me whatever I want all weekend.” Hangman snorts at your comment, causing you to pull a face at his insinuation. Quickly brushing it off and rolling your eyes, you plant your feet where they stand and cross your arms. It was Hangman’s turn to roll his eyes.
“In that case, Sweetheart, how about you go over and get us something while I check our bags.” He adjusts the bags on his shoulder. “What do you have in this thing anyway? An F-18 manual?” His tone indicates joking, but his face is set in an almost glare.
“Just my love for you, baby,” you grin, reaching out your hand towards his cheek, getting ready to squeeze. He swats your hand away before shaking his head. While walking away, toward the check-in desk, he most definitely did not smile at your giggle. 
“Here,” you mumble as Hangman walks up to you after checking your bags. In your hand is a coffee cup, which he quickly accepts. You both grab the handle of your carry-ons and start walking in the direction of your gate. Lifting the cup to his mouth, Hangman admits to himself that coffee is definitely appreciated, it doesn't matter if it is the way he likes it.
“You remembered.” He looks to his side; head cocking slightly after the first sip. You look back, eyebrows slightly furrowed.
“What?”
“Casper, you remembered the way I like my coffee,” He starts. You simply shrug and go to sip your drink once more. Hangman continues, “Y’know, someone might get the wrong idea and think you like me because you remembered this.” The sing-songy tune at the end of his sentence makes you snort. 
“Don’t get a big head, Bagman, it’s just a coffee. A black coffee,” you say as you shake your head softly.
“If we’re going to pass as a couple, you can’t be calling me that this weekend.” Your walk turns into more of a stroll as people rush past you. 
“But what if you’re being ridiculous,” You counter, your eyebrows raised.
“I have never, in my life, been ridiculous.” You cackle. Hangman does what he can to suppress the grin on his face, blaming it on the fact that your laugh was hilarious. “I think we should think about what we are going to call each other so it sounds natural when the time comes.” At that moment, someone who was in a particularly large rush passed you, clipping Hangman’s shoulder. His coffee splashes on his hand and wrist, causing him to hiss in surprise. “Asshat,” He grumbles under his breath. Hearing a gasp beside him, he notices the look on your face. “No - not that!”
“Fine, but you can’t veto my next one. I’m calling you baby and there is nothing you can do about it,” you say, shrugging mostly to yourself. “It just flows, so it’ll make pretending easier.”
“And you can be Honey,” He states. Looking at you, he sees the shake of your head. “Princess?” Giggles follow. “Sweetheart?” you pause for a moment, causing those behind you to grumble as they pass. 
“It’s not the worst choice.” You begin to walk once more, not looking back to see if the man you are with has followed. “So, Hangman, how long have we been dating?”
“It needs to be at least six months - that’s when I told my sisters that I would have a date for the wedding.”
“And they are just hearing about me now after over half a year because...?” Hangman’s shoulders move up and down.
“Being in the navy, and a pilot at that, we wanted to make sure things worked on a personal level before getting others involved,” He says. 
“If I had use of both of my hands, I might actually applaud you. It’s like you have thought about this or something.”
As the plane touches down on the tarmac, you feel yourself getting more and more anxious about the whole plan. You knew you were friends, and possibly could even categorize yourselves as good friends at this point, but would anyone buy that you were in love? 
You look to the seat beside you, and Hangman’s pleasant disposition washes away a bit of the worry. You can tell how excited he is to see his family. Like most of the dagger crew, he visited home as often as he could and would invite his family to see him, but being away was something Hangman never really got used to. He missed coming home to the smell of a hot, home-cooked meal wafting through the house. He missed teasing his sisters, then inevitably threatening someone who spoke or acted against them. 
You decide to pull him out of his focused state when those in front of them start to stand up and get ready to disembark from the plane. You place your hand on his forearm and find yourself smiling when he jumps slightly. 
“Your hands are freezing,” He spoke with his eyebrows knit together, words filled with pretend malice. “A little Texan air will do you some good, hopefully, return you to being a warm-blooded creature,” he said, with his face screwed up. You pretend to scoff, but a smirk was clawing its way onto your face, with nothing you could do about it.
Jake takes it upon himself to lift both of their carry-ons from the overhead compartment, seemingly slipping into the boyfriend role easily. Before walking down the aisle to disembark, he takes your hand in his and squeezes it as if he can feel your anxiety. You guess it was probably radiating off you considering how much you felt building up in your chest. 
Walking through the hallways of the airport, you are impressed. You knew Austin was big, but in all honesty, you were expecting something a little more… country. Through the walls of windows, you notice the large crowd of people at the bottom of the escalator. Most of them looked so excited to be here, likely reuniting with some of their favourite people. You watch as various groups embrace passengers from the plane and feel a pang in your chest. Is it wrong to trick Jake’s family like this? Surely there was another-
“That’s them there”, Jake interjects, jolting you from your possibly spiral-inducing thoughts. Though he is pointing toward the crowd, you can’t help but look at his face first. He looks like a kid on Christmas who just opened a present containing a puppy. You follow his hand and try to filter through the crowd. You had seen pictures of his mom and his sisters from an old photograph in his locker but adding an extra 20 years really changed people. 
Jake’s point turns into a wave, and suddenly you see them. His mother has the same smile, and his sisters have the same bright blonde hair that Jake adorned. 
The both of you walk up to Jake’s family and you are immediately enveloped in a hug by his mother. Your mouth opens into an “o” shape, a little taken aback by the prompt physical affection. You hear a snicker from beside you.
“I hope Jake told you we are a family of huggers,” his sister jokes, taking Jake into a hug herself. 
“Oh, hush, Emily,” Jake’s mother chides before partially releasing you. She holds onto the tops of your arms and smiles. “It is so nice to meet you, dear.” 
“It’s nice to meet you as well, Mrs. Seresin. Thank you so much for having me.” She still hasn’t let you go of your arms, seemingly trying to take you all in. You flush red, looking away for a second, worried she will be able to see the lie on your face. 
“Dear, call me Alice, Mrs. Seresin is far too formal for such an important person in Jake’s life.” Her hands brush down your arms, to stop to hold your hands for a quick moment. Almost abruptly, she releases your hold to turn toward her son. “And you, I swear it’s been years since I have seen my favourite son,” she teases. He chuckles.
“It’s been maybe five months, Ma.” He doesn’t touch on the favourite son bit. Sure, he was her only son, but it didn’t stop her from telling him he could still be her favourite. Her hug with Jake is much shorter than the one she shared with you, something Jake couldn’t help but notice.
“Okay then, let’s get this show on the road. Your nieces were practically bouncing on the couch in anticipation of meeting Y/N.” 
_________________________________________________________
@keyrani @djs8891
148 notes · View notes
Text
If We Never Met- Part 1
hiya!! this is my first @invisobang piece ever!! it's around 25k words in total, but i plan to post in parts, this part being around 1.2k. i'm so glad i got to work with @this-is-z-art-blog and @thickerthanectoplasm to get the wonderful art that's coming with it (plus quite a bit of beta reading)!
Tumblr media
Summary: In the episode "Memory Blank", Danny loses his memory and powers to Desiree, the wishing ghost. What if, instead of forcing Danny to go through the portal again, Sam became the new half-ghost protector of Amity Park? She thinks she's the only one who remembers how it used to be, but as she adjusts to her new reality and discovers her new powers, Sam soon finds she's not alone.
“Do I know you?”
“Oh, very cute. I said I wish we’d never met and now you’re pretending we didn’t meet. You’re hilarious.” Sam rolled her eyes, hand on her hip as she waited for Danny to cut the crap.
“No, seriously, do I know you?” He responded in earnest confusion.
Before Sam could respond, Tucker spritzed something minty into his mouth and practically pushed the other boy away. “And more importantly, would you like to know me?”
He held out his hand for Sam to shake, “Hi, I’m Tucker. Tucker Foley. That’s T.F. as in ‘too fine’.”
“Oh, gross!” Sam’s entire body shuddered as she slapped his hand away, “Are you hitting on me?”
As this was happening, one of Casper High’s various nerds was being cruelly shoved into a locker down the hall. Even if it was a regular occurance, this particular nerd had had enough. “I wish someone would give you a taste of your own medicine!” He screamed.
And as if she could hear the calls of Murphy's law, Desiree materialized from the void to make everything worse, announcing– “So you have wished it, and so it shall be!”
Desiree smiled as she zapped the kid, ignorant enough to make a wish around her, turning him into a ghoulish, green monster. He leapt out of the locker excitedly and (deservedly) beat the snot out of Dash and Kwan. 
She smiled, proud to display her power and ready to move on to the next victim. But before Desiree took her leave, something peculiar caught her eye. She began moving cautiously towards the moody girl she knew as the ghost boy’s friend, but quickly changed trajectory and headed in Danny’s direction instead.  
Once she was close enough to tower over Danny, she smirked as she said, ”Boo.”
“G-g-GHOST!!” he screamed, throwing his scrawny arms over his head. 
Desiree was pleased with herself, and before any of the trio could stand up to her, she flew away, cackling and mumbling to herself. 
Sam was less than impressed at Danny’s shenanigans today. “That’s Desiree, the wishing ghost!” Sam grabbed Danny by the shoulders, and avoided the temptation to shake him a little. “Danny, you’ve gotta do something. Why aren’t you going ghost?”
Unfortunately there was zero recognition from her friend. Danny shrugged her off and backed away, “Look, kid. I don’t know who you are or what you’re talking about. All I know is I am out of here!”
---
All Sam could think as she watched Danny run off like a coward was how someone like that could have ever ended up a “fearless superhero”.
Sam was at a complete loss for words. Only two things in her mind were possible; either the boys were playing an asinine prank on her, or they really didn’t remember who she was.
She hoped it was the former, but the fact Tucker flirted with her (weird) pointed, hopefully, to the latter. He’d always flirted with every girl that moved– but was adamant he’d never flirt with Sam. And if he’s gone back on his word, it better be because he doesn’t remember her. No matter how stupid it sounds. Otherwise she’d have to strangle him. Probably.
But that train of thought would have to stay in the back of her mind– she had classes to prepare for, and a locker to visit. Her day, apart from this, should be completely normal.
Or not.
As soon as Sam opened her locker, she was smacked in the face with undeniable evidence that her friends (if she could even call them that anymore) truly didn’t remember her. Her favorite polaroid, one of the three of them on the first day of school, one she had only taken a few months ago didn’t have a single trace of her in it. Only Danny and Tucker standing with an awkward blank space between the two of them, as though she was erased.
This… this isn’t right– There’s gotta be some way to prove I was in the picture– I’m the one who took it!
Sam shook her head and pocketed the photo for later. The halls were emptying and she couldn’t risk being late, or worse– detention.
As she hastily grabbed all the books she needed for the first few periods, Sam’s hand brushed against the spine of something that was definitely not a textbook. Is this where this damn thing had been misplaced for months? She yanked out her old photo album. 
Well, it’s not that old, but old enough she gave up on finding it again. Hell, she was close to making a new one the last few weeks, seeing as she hadn’t seen it in months. It isn’t anything special, really. It started out with a few of her birthdays from before middle school Danny or Tucker were occasionally in the background, but once she gets to the pages from middle school onwards, the two become more prominent. The most recent pages were fresh after Danny’s accident and stopped around the time she misplaced the damn thing.
How convenient– this might actually work if she shows it to the bo–
Suddenly, the bell rings shrilly, making her want to cover her ears.
‘Dang– are you kidding me?? My parents will kill me if they find out I’m late again.’
Sam simply sighs, rustling around in her bag and producing a stack of hall passes, quickly forging a signature without a thought. 
What? She’s a responsible student. Usually.
---
The fake pass barely works, but Sam manages to slide home to her first period seat unaccosted. Tetslaff has a nigh unreadable signature, even to hawk-eyed Lancer.. She slumps down in her usual spot in the room. It takes her a moment but she notices Tucker and Danny are nowhere to be found.
Didn’t we always have first hour together? 
The three are inseparable, both at home and in the classroom– specifically by parental ‘suggestion’. 
When the three finally made it to freshman year, Sam offhandedly mentioned her worry of being alone in her classes, very loudly, within her mother’s range of hearing. Not even a week later, her parents made a call to the school to ensure the trio would have all their classes together. all day. Even when they drove each other up the wall.
She smiles fondly as she prepares for Lancer’s blabbing for the hour. She looks at her friend’s empty seats and feels the emptiness in her heart when she realizes there would be no passing notes or sharing whispers.
‘Now is not the time. I need to help Danny get his powers back. Or maybe even convince him to do it on his own. I wonder if the portal has even been opened yet…’
As Lancer drolls on about the book of the week, she finds her mind wandering to earlier that day. Specifically to what Danny said. More specifically, the thing about her being the reason he had ghost powers in the first place. 
‘Wait, if I gave him his ghost powers in the first place– that means… all the stress and responsibility,’
Sam frowns at the realization before her train of thought continues. ‘If I did that to him, to my best friend, doesn’t that mean I can do the same for… or to someone else?’
With that heavy train of thought, she starts to make a plan.
---
Stay tuned for part 2!
163 notes · View notes
vestaclinicpod · 2 months
Text
Audio Drama Sunday - 11th February ✨
Here’s what I’ve been listening to this week ���
Spoilers ahead!
👻 @tellnotalespod (S2E3) I don’t get Frank’s game here. I don’t trust for a single second that he’s stopped doing those awful experiments. Constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop with Mr Williamson 🤨 And, yes, Leo 😭 continue choosing kindness in the face of stress and grief!! It’s all we can do!!!! 
🧳 Travelling Light @monstrousproductions (11) sometimes I see so much of myself represented in The Traveller, it’s uncanny. I love singing little songs on the way home from a night out. If someone gave me a lovely little drum, you best believe I’m about to be the biggest menace in the star system!!! My heart swelled to three times its size upon hearing that Óli chose to join them for the evening! Love is stored in the haughty alien companion!! 💓
🏛 @the-mistholme-museum (MUNDANE) This episode had me cackling at Belinda and has had me looking at my toaster a little differently 👀 I loved the complex emotions at play here between ATG and the Beast. If you’re waiting for proof that you can trust the Beast, you’re gonna be waiting a looong time!!  
🌨️ @thewhitevault (7) Iffy!!! Trust your gut!!!!!! All is not as it seems!!! This season is shaping up to be just as gut wrenching as the others and I’m enjoying the ride immensely!
🏢 @somewhereohio (S2E10) I can’t believe it’s over! What a weird, wild and wormy ride this season has been. Roll on the final season! 
🍾 @ameliapodcast “A MAI TAI IS AN INTERNATIONAL DELIGHT!” Had me CREASED. I’m very much enjoying season three so far! 
🌫️ @souloperatorpod (3) Soul Operator is getting creepier by the episode and I’m so here for it! What happened at the end there?! Who’s going around sending bear traps in the post?!! 
🖥️ The Magnus Protocol (5) oooh I think this one was my favourite story yet. I love the shift into what seems to be entirely digital “statements” in this show and they nailed the secondhand embarrassment from those early blog posts. 
🍎 I finished season one of the dazzling Not Quite Dead (@notquitedeadpod) and have started season two. I can’t quite express how much I love this show. The acting is so natural and it makes the whole thing so much more believable. I don’t quite understand why Eira isn’t in absolutely every audio drama ever? He’s amazing. ALFIE, though, GOD. MY SWEET BOY. WHO, EXACTLY, DO YOU THINK CASPER WAS TELLING YOU TO RUN FROM? This show makes me sick, I love it. 
So excited for more Camlann next week, and to dive deeper into the mess that is Not Quite Dead this week!! What is everyone else enjoying? 👀
32 notes · View notes
talzane · 1 year
Text
Threading his way through the halls of Casper High seemed to get harder every week. Ghost fight after ghost fight, the school accumulated damage like Vlad should have been collecting cats, and after a year and a half of fighting, the damage had blown past the school's ability to repair it.
Danny kept his head low--mostly in an attempt to hide last night's bruises behind last month's haircut--as he carefully maneuvered to his new first period class, where Sam and Tucker waited to hear his fight card from the night before. His shaggy black hair managed to obscure most of his face, but his icy blue eyes still peaked through to carefully catalog any undue attention. His slumped posture, baggy, white t-shirt, over-sized blue jeans and ratty, red Converse' all worked to project an image of ignominy, which was perfect for slipping beneath the radar of most of the school given the rigid caste system enforced by the A-List.
Unfortunately, he was so busy watching for unwarranted glances that he failed to see the posters. When Danny finally arrived at Mr. Lancer's new homeroom--still empty half an hour before school--and worked his way through the army of desks to his friends, he was utterly baffled to find them watching his face expectantly.
"What?"
"Dude," Tucker began, evidently expecting a reaction, "didn't you see the posters?"
"No?"
"Danny," Sam cackled, "are you going to enter to win the PhantomSweeps?"
Danny's head snapped to level, "The...what?"
"You don't want to win a day with Phantom?"
"...A *day*?"
"C'mon, man," Tucker laughed, "a *whole day* with Phantom! You can ask questions, learn about ghosts...go on a date."
"No! I never agreed to that!"
"Did you, maybe, tell people you saved from Technus that, 'I only answer questions booked two weeks in advance?'"
"No! I...maybe, but they were being nosey! I just wanted them to leave me alone!"
"Well, Paulina decided to make it a fundraiser to get the school fixed."
"Oh no."
"You'll never guess who's entered to win," Tucker gasped for breath.
"Oh no!"
"Your parents," Tucker laughed.
"Vlad," Sam cackled.
"Your sister."
"I'm *not* going to THERAPY!"
"Lance Thunder."
"Why?"
"Interview," Sam answered, "and Paulina *Phantom*, Dash Baxter, Mr. Lancer, and Agents O and K."
"Don't forget The Box Ghost!" Tucker helpfully chimed in.
"How did he find out!?"
"He was in the box of posters."
"Oh crap." Danny collapsed into his seat and buried his head in his arms, "Why me?"
198 notes · View notes
lexosaurus · 1 year
Text
Phic Phight: To Fail at Saving
For @ebonyheartnet
Title: To Fail at Saving WC: 1444 CW: Bombs Summary: When a ghost fundamentally fails at their obsession, they can fracture. Most fade from it, but halfas…they cling.
[ao3]
****
There had to be someone to save, Phantom thought, his eyes ablaze. He rubbed his palms against his thighs, feeling the slippery material through the tears in his gloves. His fingers stung as dirt smeared into the micro-cuts on his skin, but he could hardly feel it through the hurricane that was in his mind.
Please, let there be someone to save. 
“Phantom?” a voice said, but it sounded confused, not in distress. Therefore none of his concern.
He pushed forward blindly, stumbling over loose rubble. He caught his balance on a boulder of fallen concrete and gasped for breath despite the fact that he hadn’t run. Still, his chest tightened its claw around his lungs and he coughed up the dust, smoke, grime that clung to the air in clouds.
This was his fault. 
And now he was paying the ultimate price.
“You should have ended me when you had the chance!” Spectra’s cackling echoed in his mind. He could feel her claws around his throat, hoisting him up higher and higher in the air.
He remembered how much he wanted to scream, to wail her away. But he was weak, and she was not, and he couldn’t do anything else except watch her plan come to fruition.
As he watched the explosions. The fire. The chunks of rubble toss into the air. They were silent. Why were they silent?
And then the booming sounded. It blistered his eardrums, lighting up the sky with fireworks and crackling and the worst sound imaginable.
And then the building tipped over. Falling to the ground. Crumbling under supports that no longer existed.
He was too weak.
“This is your fault, child. You failed them. And now I will feast.”
His fault.
“You couldn’t protect them.”
His fault. 
“Delicious!”
His fault. 
There had to be someone to save
But he could hardly expand his senses over to the overwhelming despair that fogged the air. Even if there were someone trapped, he would never know. He couldn’t hear them, smell them, see them, feel them.
He had lost.
But he couldn’t give up. 
He pushed himself off the used-to-be wall and walked forward. Obsessively, maybe what once had been. But his Obsession was Ruined and he would never be able to rest again. He knew this, not because anyone had ever told him so, but because he could feel it.
He was an Abomination, the other ghosts called him.
He went against the ecto-laws of physics.
He shouldn’t have existed.
When a ghost fundamentally fails at their Obsession, they fracture. But Phantom hadn’t. Because Phantom was a halfa, because he was a mistake, because he was a freak of nature. 
What happens when someone who toes the line between dead and living fails at their Obsession?
No halfa ever had. So no one knew. But Phantom knew that he was still here, still dragging his feet along the cracked pavement, broken but still moving like a zombie thirsting for blood.
There had to be someone to save…
He fell onto the ground. The sound of crying was too much, the feeling of death was too much. He had never lost anyone like this before, he had never failed before, and this was too much, too much, too much.
“You should have ended me when you had the chance.”
He should have ended her before when her greatest evil was haunting Casper High. Before she set her sights greater, grander, deadlier. Before she decided to go to these extremes for the sake of her disgusting vanity.
The explosions deafened the world, vibrating every molecule down to his core.
He was going to kill her.
“Phantom!” 
He opened his eyes and whipped around. Spectra was gone, and Bertrand too, nothing more than splatters of green on the pavement. She can’t hurt anyone again, but it’s too late. I failed. I didn’t protect them. 
“Phantom, come here!” The voice said again, this time more urgently.
Phantom finally locked eyes with the man—a police officer—who was standing by a pile of rubble with a crowd of onlookers.
“Someone’s trapped under there!” the officer shouted.
They…need me?
Trapped…
“Alive?” Phantom croaked, his vocal cords surely bleeding after what he had put them through.
“Yes, someone’s alive! We need you to phase her out!”
His knees nearly buckled right then and there. There had to be someone—there was someone to save.
The force of his core lifted him from the ground, it zipped him forward, it stitched his suit back together and cloaked his shimmering aura back around him. He was weak, so very weak, but there was someone to save and he couldn’t save them looking like a broken excuse for a ghost.
“Where?” he asked.
“Down there.” The officer pointed to a pile of rubble. “Be careful. The rocks are unstable, and we don’t know who else is trapped down there with her.”
Even if he couldn’t see them, he knew his eyes were glowing alight. He lit a low-powered ball of ectoplasm in his fist for light, turned his body intangible, and dove down into the concrete jenga. He passed through a slab leaning on another before coming into a clearing. Broken desktops, tables, and scrambled manila folders greeted his eyes.
“Phantom!” a new voice gasped.
Phantom tried to not turn around too quickly. He forced himself to stay in the air, to take stock of the scene, to see the one conscious woman in a pencil skirt smeared with blood and one unconscious woman slumped against the shattered wall.
“You’re here,” she whispered, her eyes growing shinier against the ecto-light. “You’re here. Oh my god, you’re here. We’re gonna be okay.”
She hunched over the other woman, her tears spilling onto her cheeks.
“It’s going to be okay,” Phantom said.
It was going to be okay. There was someone to save.
“Please, take Marissa first,” the woman said. “She needs an ambulance. Please.”
“I got her.” Phantom flew down, hovering over the duo. 
The woman pushed back to reveal her friend whose once-white blouse had tie-dyed red. 
“She got hit with something. I don’t know what.”
Phantom let the green fizzle away in his fist. The room dimmed but didn’t darken as the white of his aura took over. He fitted his glove over the unconscious woman’s abdomen and lowered his temperature until ecto-ice bubbled at his fingertips. He pressed his glove down, letting the ice latch onto its new host.
The conscious woman didn’t say anything, but Phantom felt the need to explain anyway, “That will stop her bleeding while I move her. Don’t worry, it will be okay. I’ll save you both.”
He wrapped a gentle arm around the older woman, Marissa, and spread his aura over her, switching it to intangibility the moment she was fully covered in white. Slowly, to not jostle her, he flew up the way he had come, passing through slabs of concrete and broken wires until the dust-covered sunlight and cheers from the crowd greeted him once again.
He made quick work of setting her down in front of the officer. “There’s someone else. I’ll be right back.”
He couldn’t have returned underground soon enough.
There are people to save.
“You ready?” Phantom asked.
“Yes.” The younger woman wiped the tears from her eyes and reached out to him, not even pausing to shiver as they finally made contact.
“Let’s get you to safety,” Phantom said.
His aura bathed her body just as it had the older woman before her, and he pulled her up through the concrete the same as well. The crowd cheered, and he tried to not preen like a peacock as he set her down on the uneven ground.
“Thank you,” the woman said. “You saved me.”
His core buzzed with newfound life, and he felt some of the nicks on his hands and skin begin to heal. 
“You’re welcome,” he responded, his voice far less grated than before. 
The officer put a hand on his shoulder. “Alright, Phantom?”
Perhaps he should have been embarrassed at his previous display of weakness, at the way he had stumbled around this building like a lost lamb searching for its mother. But there was someone to save and he would do it, he would save them all. 
He Had To.
“Let’s find the others,” he said, staring determined into the officer’s eyes. “We’ll get everyone.”
The officer handed him a radio. “You search underground. We’ll radio you from above if we find anyone. Be careful.”
“You too.”
The officer nodded once, then turned back to his team. “Alright, you heard him! Let’s find the survivors!”
He had people to save.
****
[read more of my work here]
97 notes · View notes
criminalskies · 5 months
Text
The actual state of my kitchen while I cackle about the meme Casper ( @softhairedhotch ) sent me about white people and coleslaw:
Tumblr media
It looks like a cabbage bomb went off on here there is shrapnel ALL OVER THE FLOORS TOO.
13 notes · View notes
zingaplanet · 1 year
Note
*pokes with a stick hoping another fedal essay rolls out*
In your opinion, what was the moment that Rogers and Rafa's relationship became more than colleagues/rivals/idol and admirer? I think I read a Roger quote that after Wimbledon 2008 he had acknowledge he had an equal, but they seemed to get along well already before 2008
Oh this is such a good question! Yes they did get along really well already before 2008, but it's mostly admiration on Rafa's side and mentor-like friendliness on Roger's side I think. I always felt like before 2008 Roger was kind of in the "he's a young kid coming up I want to make sure he's welcomed" nice vibe, which he still goes into now (and rafa too lol) if you look at the way he treats the younglings in LC (Casper, Domi, Stef, etc). This is really sweet actually, I remember him saying that when he was an upcoming player the locker room wasn't that friendly n he never had that feeling of having a mentor or being welcomed 🥺🥺(Sampras and Agassi were basically at each other's throats and the rest weren't exactly hangout buddies). That's why he wanted to create a nicer atmosphere for newcomers and he was really happy that the top players (especially rafa n roddick n hewitt etc) kinda vibe with this as well and were really nice to the newcomers!
This is why I felt like the phrase that an athlete can never be bigger than its own sport doesn't apply to tennis because Roger Federer IS bigger than tennis itself. Yet in doing so, he somehow doesn't diminish the sport but uplifts it with him, it's amazing (the only other example I can think of is Muhammad Ali). He brought so much changes to the sports, not only the media attention (and thus the funding it receives) also more subtle behind the scene acts like this that others won't notice but the players will. He was also one of the trendsetters of philantrophism in high level sports I think, if not directly perhaps indirectly through the standards and expectations he set as a top athlete (he def inspired rafa and novak to set up their own foundations). That's why I think when Rafa said "he's the most important player of our sports" he's not really exaggerating. Rafa works closely with Roger on the player's council so he knows exactly how much influence Roger has had over the sports throughout the years.
A side note to this, it's actually fascinating if you look at Roger and Rafa not as players but as Federer and Nadal the people and their actual roles in the sport. They are, without a doubt (even if nobody would say it explicitly) the most powerful people in tennis. I mean literally their sponsors are the TOURNAMENTS' SPONSORS (Rolex, KIA, credit suisse????). Their words are technically gospel. Which is why I have the utmost respect for them both, I think it takes not only an incredible tennis player but also human being to carry that power and responsibility with such grace, with no known crazy scandal for over 25 years of their professional career, always staying neutral but true. They were the only two who won the sportsmanship award multiple times!
Both of them actually always said that they hate the bureaucratic/political side of the sport (roger even cackled when they asked him if he wants to join the administrative side of the tournaments after his retirement lol) but I think over time they realised that it is THEIR sports and like it or not, the politics will influence their life and career. Rafa said this in his recent spanish interview with Marca and that's why him and Roger actually rejoined the player's council in the end.
This discussion has veered off to the political side too much and I don't want to derail it even further but I also think it's important to understand tennis beyond the matches and the tournaments. It's a very political sport, probably one of the most political, given the amount of money going through it. I also brought it up because it actually has a relation to the point you raise. This unequal mentor-mentee relation is actually visible if you see Roger and Rafa's history in the player's council and their interaction BEYOND the court. Around 2008ish if I'm not wrong, Rafa became part of the council (then he was still no 2 behind Federer) as VICE-PRESIDENT to Federer. This is where Roger's famous speech ("Rafa was such a shy kid, he used to always say whatever roger wants I'm happy with it") came from I suppose because he really was a very reserved persona who trusted Roger blindly in his decisions.
BUT starting from 2008 ish, Rafa started becoming more and more vocal of his opinions, and him and Roger actually disagreed quite a lot which peaked when he quit the council in 2011 (oh those crazy dramatic years 😭). There was quite a lot of media fuss when he quit, I think young, passionate Rafa wasn't that adept still in knowing what to disclose or not to disclose to the media and luckily Roger, forever the swiss, remained neutral and refused to comment which I actually think was the right move, otherwise it would've ruined their relationship forever if they actually got into media spats. And I believe this change in late 2000s wasn't incidental, it was precisely because Rafa won Wimbledon. I remember it was like a shift in the public opinion, that he finally broke the stigma of the 'clay court specialist' and that he was able to beat Federer on his home turf. It probably also impacted his self confidence a lot.
The difference is evident now. When they actually rejoined the council (in 2021 when Roger didn't know he was going to leave yet 🥺), I'm not sure who's the current president, but they didn't join to occupy HIERARCHICHAL positions, that is they were simply voted in as EQUAL members. They also both explicitly said to the media that they only joined because the other is joining, and if they were doing it they wanted to do it together.
This says several things, mainly that they have obviously talked through their main disagreements of the past (which was actually really2 contentious), are completely ok with each other, AND that they see themselves as ultimate EQUALS.
So yes, to answer your question in a very long and distracted way lol, I do think 2008 or at least the breaking of the no 1 ranking barrier was the key.
A very interesting side effect to this, although I'm not entirely sure whether this was subtly intended or just an expected consequence, is that Federer and Nadal, post 2015 ish present themselves as irreversibly, undeniably UNITED. They did this through subtle things, like donating money JOINTLY for the Australian fire relief (to set up an example for other players to donate). This is incredibly critical to the political dynamic, because as I said, both of them are the most powerful people in the game. When Roger and Rafa joined the Player's Council they were actually making a statement. Djokovic was a notable absent from the council because he quit a few months before (although he was president up until 2020) to set up his own group the Professional Tennis Players' Association (PTPA) 🥲. Roger and Rafa even explicitly responded to the proposal when it was announced, calling for “unity, not separation”.
This was why Roger said that behind the tennis Rafa and him "are so much more alike in so many ways", they have technically become of the same minds. Although they've had their disagreements, they've managed to be civil and fixes their relationship to present a united front for the sport. It's very fascinating to dissect why this is the case. Perhaps it's one of those wicked things the universe wants to demonstrate: That those of polar opposites are actually the perfect complement to one another. A bit like two sides of the same coin, they might not face the same way but in the end they're one and the same! 😉
43 notes · View notes
forthegothicheroine · 2 years
Text
I need to share with you all an Ask a Manager letter from a person working at what seems to be a costume/prop store and is irritated by what horror nerds their coworkers are. I am actually sympathetic to a certain extent (everyone endlessly repeating movie quotes would get old even if I like the movies) but it raises many questions.
I live in a small city which doesn’t have many employment opportunities. The city has a high unemployment rate, and it’s rare to find work that isn’t in shops, farming, etc. Six years ago, the city council launched a project to fund start-up business ideas for marginalized individuals, including those with disabilities.
One of these ideas has become extremely successful. It’s essentially four neurodivergent eccentrics who live every day like it’s Halloween. They are commissioned by various organizations around the state to create bespoke services and goods. They’ve attracted something of a following with projects coming in all year in preparation for October. Jobs include making props for a small amusement park, making decor for a children’s hospital, local authorities hiring them to run haunted houses, etc. Because it has council funding, the start-up needs a couple of additional employees for administration. I accepted one of these admin roles as there are so few office-based jobs in the area.
I have worked there for two years and I feel like I’m in some sort of alternative reality. The office is filled with robotics, costumes, and prop projects. I’ve kept my complaints to what I thought was minimal, but the number of official logged complaints about the four people is in double digits. As an example, one was about a ruined handbag that had been seized as a prop and filled with jelly and rubber eyeballs. The other admin worker isn’t helpful — he has multiple Halloween-themed tattoos and named his kids in obvious tribute (think names like Casper, Salem etc.).
The entire city sees the team as underdog heroes and they really are involved in worthwhile projects. I appreciate that they probably have been excluded through their lives and have finally found an opportunity to form a community and work in a field they love. But my nerves are in shreds with the constant screams and cackles emitted from every corner of a small office. The latest is a wildlife charity wanting to put nesting boxes for actual BATS! in the office. They’re paying for it as a promotional/marketing service, with the resident ghouls blogging about and videoing the bats. Am I nuts, or is this completely bizarre?
After I submitted a complaint about the plans to move bats in, the local newspaper ran a massive double spread about the Halloween grinch trying to destroy this deeply loved community enterprise. They took the stance that I am some stuffy busybody ruining disabled people’s opportunities to shine and create joy and community spirit. I wasn’t named in the article but it was obvious to locals who the villain was.
Quitting means I’d be signing up for many years in a manual or service job in a city where everyone hates me. My son is counting down the days until he can legally change his name so he won’t be recognized. I had minor surgery last year and the week off felt like the first time in two years I could breathe.
As I’m writing this to you, my coworkers are bellowing out lines from films at each other repetitively, then identifying them. Here’s a sample:
A : What an excellent day for an exorcism! J: The Exorcist, 1973!
T: Listen to them, children of the night! J : Dracula, 1931!
Help!
The advice given is basically “If you work at a Halloween place they’re going to be into Halloween, you just have to decide if you can stand it or not.” But questions people in the comments are raising are:
1. Was that “ruined purse” something that belonged to someone and coworkers filled with jelly, or was it a discarded item that they repurposed into a prop?
2. Putting bats in the office? Really? A real charity wants to do that? Or is this hyperbole for putting bat boxes outside?
3. Were those “double digits” of complaints from different people, or all from the letter writer?
4. Are all these details just changed to avoid identifying anyone, and is this really a Christmas prop place?
What do you all think?
36 notes · View notes
vintageviewmaster · 5 months
Text
Tumblr media
Caption: …so the evil witches pointed them at themselves…
Booklet Description: "Very bad, for a starter," approved the witches when they inspected the wands. Wendy giggled softly behind her hand as they turned to the princess. This time, because Wendy had reversed the colors, they were pointing the handles at the princess, and the points at themselves. "Oh, this will be a triple-powerful, extra-evil one," cackled the first witch. ZZZAAAPPP!! Blue bolts of lightning shot backward, hitting the witches so hard they tumbled end over end through the air. An enormous cloud filled their part of the cave.
Brand: View-Master Packet Title: Casper's Ghostland Reel Title: Wendy, The Good Little Witch Reel Subtitle: in "Magic Wands" Reel Number: B 5452, Reel Two Reel Edition: A Image Number: 6 Date: 1969
3 notes · View notes
halfa-failure · 4 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
My take on the Casper high school uniforms in “eye for an eye”
33 notes · View notes
tllgrrl · 2 years
Text
Excerpt from upcoming SarahBucky AU - HALLELUJAH
A photoset/moodboard was created, and I asked, and received, permission to write for it. All I’ll say for now is that this is my first Piano Bar AU. Sarah and her fellow Grown-assed Woman friends get together for a drink or two and…
The Setting: The Lighthouse Bar & Grill, in New Orleans. Inherited and run by Sam Wilson, who co-owns the bar and the building it’s in, with his sister Sarah Wilson-Casper, a widow and mother of two young boys.
* * * * * * * * *
“Hold on. You all seein’ this?” Aymie points a well manicured nail at Sarah, then tilts her head indicating the front of the barroom.
“Giiirl, yes! Watch him try not to look over here.”
“And he’s fine, too!” Dee says just loud enough for the other women to hear. “I mean—“
“Mmmm-HMM! How can you miss those—“
“Arms!” / “Shoulders!” / “That Chest!”, each woman giving a different answer at the same time, but all ending together, adding, “and those Eyes!”
“What!?” Sarah demands, taking a sip of her drink and trying to maintain a poker face but feeling herself get warm.
She knew exactly who they were talking about, and she saw him the minute she walked in the door. The man at the piano is the man who was taking kegs off the delivery truck (like they weighed no more than a 12 ounce can each) when she stopped by earlier to take inventory. The man built like…and with those eyes like...
‘What? What are you all talking nonsense about?”
“Girl?!? Please. We know you know he keeps looking at you.”
“It’s like he’s trying to catch your eye, but he’s tryin’ to be sly about it.”
“Yeah, he’s tryin alright! Hard. Look at him. All cute…”
“I don’t even know what…” Sarah takes another sip, trying to look chill, “…or who—“
“The Piano Player!” they all whisperyell at the same time, wide eyes all pinning her in place so she can’t move.
“Don’t play dumb, Sarah. It’s unbecoming—“ Aisha says before she tilts her head back and tosses some popcorn into her mouth.
“Unbecoming??? You sound like my 80 year old TiTi Lee, ma’am!”
“Just go on up there and sing, Sarah!” Charlie says, crossing her arms and glaring.
Dee chimes in, crossing her arms and joining in with the glaring. “And give him your phone number—“
“And your panti—“
“Hush, Tasha!!” Dee giggles, looking around. “Act like you have some sense and Home Training up in here. Besides, Sarah’s not brazen…” she finishes her drink and flags down the server, “…like you—“
“Brazen?!” Tasha says, deadpan, looking over her glasses at Dee. “Heifer, please! Miss Gives The Limo Driver Her Business Card!!” They all burst out laughing and Sarah does as well.
(There she is.)
He doesn’t hear the exchange between the women over at the table, but seeing her smile makes him smile to himself as he continues to play the previous request.
“Sarah, sing something, please. Before these two embarrass us all,” Aymie pleads while laughing at her friend’s antics.
“Come on!”
“Pleeeeease?”
‘You know you want to! It’s your turn!”
“Alright!” She stands, waves her hand and points at the entire table, calling over to Sam, “And I’m telling Sam you’re all cut off!”
“Like hell!” Tasha cackles. “Sam!? Another round….on Sarah’s tab!!”
“Amen!” / “Yes ma’am!” / ‘That’s what I’m talkin’ ‘bout!” the women clap at Sarah.
“Now get on over there and chirp, girl!”
She takes her cocktail, gulps the rest of it, and makes her way over to the piano…
To be continued…
(Addendum: Read the whole story HERE.)
(Hey, @idontgettechnology! Thanks again.)
33 notes · View notes
callmecaspurr · 11 months
Text
She/Her=a different side character
he/him=a different side character
they/them/Cas/Casper=my main oc/main character here
Her screams were helpless, pathetic, useless. Just how Cas liked it. She couldn’t bear the sight of her twin being so brutalized, the way his blood was forced from under his skin; how it dripped down his features so horrifyingly delicious. Her bronze hair stuck to her forehead with sweat and struggle, her eyes puffy and red with tears; her cheeks red and burning from crying so much. Her screams echoed in the concrete underground parking lot, as did her twins muffled screams and cries of pain. He was still alive, and despairingly at the mercy of Casper’s knife. They were crouched beside his body, an amused and wicked grin split their lips apart widely. It was evident that they gained pure joy from the forced suffrage of others.
she pulled helplessly against the chains that held her in place, the metal pillar that stood un-movingly had no mercy or give way for her to wiggle free. It was only when Cas stood up that she ceased her efforts, her gaze darting to the tall form approaching her. Cas focused their sights down on the woman sitting on the floor, their insane smile slightly muted, yet not gone. They clutched their knife a bit tighter, wicked and disturbed thoughts flooding their mind. A giggle left their lips as they crouched to thatch the eye level of the poor victim, a taunting grin.
she stared back with horror, a single tear spilling over her bottom lashes. Neither her nor her twin were able to process time fast enough to realize that Cas had lunged an arm forward, plunging their knife to the hilt inside of her skull. Crimson spilled onto the dusty concrete beneath them both, a similar look that was under her twin as well. He let out another muffled scream, this one sounding more pained than the others. His only sibling was killed before his very eyes, a sight he wasn’t expecting.
Cas let out another horrific cackle, their lips parting more to give another disturbed smile. More crimson coated their hand, the sound of brain matter paired with the satisfying crunch of a human skull too much to not moan at. They stood after a minute of making the stab wound in her head even bigger. Cas then turned to gaze at the horrified victim with his hands bound behind his back. To Casper, he was still a fresh and barely used canvas. Oh, the possibilities.
~~
somewhere in the distance, a piercing blue eye watched her every move. His raven hair framing the pale wax mask perfectly. He made sure to control his breathing as to not attract unwanted attention, though careful to make sure he could hear their every sound. They were so insane, so terrifying, so disturbed, so fucking hot. God, he could watch them torture helpless victims for hours, loving the way they used the most horrendous methods and the threat of loss, paired with a switch of situations. It was so disorienting to the victims, yet so amusing to the victor.
5 notes · View notes
stuckphantom · 7 months
Text
As Vlad fought Teddy, and Teddy slightly waned a bit in the fight, in came Danny and Dani, Danny used his ghostly wail, and Dani used an ecto energy blast, which got Vlad off of Teddy, and threw him right into a nearby wall.
Teddy: "Woah! That was super strong! Thanks!"
Danny: "No problem! Hey, uh who are you?"
Teddy: "Teddy Casper! At your service! I'm not really from here, I just floated over to help."
Danny: "Sweet! Thanks!"
Teddy: "Don't mention it!"
Dani: "Hey guys! Big bad ain't down just yet! Look!"
Dani pointed out as Vlad slowly rose up from the ground rather angrily.
He sneered as he rose from the nearby rubble, and growled with contempt.
Vlad: "All I wanted was to run a few tests! Why are you resisting me!?"
Danny: "YOU KIDNAPPED ME!!!"
Vlad: "Only because I knew you'd resist, we can't have that, can we."
Teddy: "Leave him alone, Vlad!"
Vlad tried to come closer, only to get rammed in the face by the Specter Speeder, right in the face! Danny smiled as his friends Sam and Tucker and his sister Jazz piled out of the thing and ran over to Danny at full speed to give him a hug.
Danny: "Guys! You came for me?"
Jazz: "Like I'd leave my brother behind!"
Tucker: "We'd never leave you hangin' dude!"
Sam: "Nothing is gonna stop us from helping you, when you're in danger!"
Danny: "Thanks guys."
Vlad twitched slightly on the floor, completely defeated and humiliated in front of a bunch of teenagers, one middle schooler, and one adult.
Teddy: "Do you surrender?"
Dani: "Yeah! Ya old froot loop! Do you surrender!"
Danny: "If you don't, we'll have to continue the fight!"
Vlad: "....."
Vlad: "I suppose so, I don't really have the advantage here, in this scenario"
Vlad frowned, but rested his eyes on Danny, with a smirk he looked Danny in the eyes.
Vlad: "I may have lost, but I've gained something... Teddy should be able to tell you, or rather Professor Casper should."
Vlad phased through the floor, and escaped rather quickly, while cackling to himself.
Danny: "Huh?"
Teddy: "Huh. I guess I better check in with Mom about this."
To be continued....
6 notes · View notes