#ghost economy

[millardcrow]

[thevoidstaredback]

It's always graveyards. Why is it always graveyards? They're creepy as hell and, well... that's it. On the bright side, the Protection Spirits watching the gates recognize him and realize the danger he's in. Well, maybe he wasn't in real danger because the Bats and Birds don't really do the whole purposefully harming civilians things, but they are scary as hell! Chasing him down like a bat straight outta hell- obviously he was gonna run! They cornered him! Maybe he'll invest in getting them lessons in how to interact with people in and out of costume?

Honestly, Nightwing, Danny expected better of you. At least Red Hood and Signal know how to treat innocents.

Here's the thing about Protection and Guardian Spirits, though. They don't like intruders. If you're running from something and you don't have time to ask permission to enter, you best say "thank you" and bring them shiny things on your next visit. If you do have time to ask permission, you ask permission. If they think you're a threat or rude, they won't let you enter whatever they're guarding.

"Thank you," Danny said as he slowed to a walk further into the graveyard, the sound of the gates slamming closed behind him confirmation that the Bat and his gaggle wouldn't be following him in.

Wasting no time, Danny pulled a piece of chalk from his pocket. It was a handy little thing he'd picked up during his stay in the House of Mysteries. Draw and door, tell it where you wanna go, open it, and go through! Beetlejuice style. Though, unlike what the Handbook for the Recently Deceased says, these doors won't actually open a door to the afterlife. He fixed that tiny glitch a while ago.

Anyway, a quick few chalk lines on the side of a mausoleum later, and Danny was opening a door to Fawcett, Philadelphia. Probably not the best choice, considering that he was trying to stay away from the Justice League, but it's better than Metropolis.

"Whoa." Damn it! He should've stayed home. "What was that, mister?"

Danny made sure the door closed behind him, praying for strength. Why did he feel like several deities were laughing at him? "Hey, kid. Can you, um, maybe not say anything about that?"

The kid, short brown hair and a red jacket stood out the most to Danny for some reason, seemed very amused. "You're gonna have to buy my silence."

Again, Danny let out a quiet, long suffering sigh. "Coffee is so not worth it." Looking at the kid, he said, "Alright, fine. I was getting coffee anyway, I'll buy ya lunch. Know any good places?"

Grinning, the kid cheered, "Hell yeah! Follow me!"

Resigned, Danny followed after the kid, easily keeping pace. About a block later, he figured he should probably get the kid's name. "I'm Danny."

"Billy."

"No last name?"

"Fae rules, dude. What's your excuse?"

He had to give it to him. "Touché."

Another three blocks of walking, Billy finally stopped at a cafe. It was a quaint place with stained white brick and a dark grey roof. There were metal chairs and tables outside the building surrounded by a wrought iron fence. The table umbrellas and the awning over the black door were light blue, matching the curtains in the inside.

The inside walls were painted baby blue with a white ceiling and a pinewood floor. The tables and chairs were all stained black with light pink cushions and table cloths. The curtains, as observed before, were all baby blue, tied back with baby pink ribbons. The lights were barely yellow, giving the room a warm feel. The counters were white with black paneling on the outside and white granite as the tops.

"Welcome in," the young man at the register greeted with a smile, "What can I get you two started with today?"

Danny envied the man. He'd obviously not been doing this long enough to gain the veteran's shine to his eye. He turned to look at the menu after telling Billy to get whatever he wanted. A mistake he'll probably pay for. "I'd like a large Red Eye, equal parts coffee and espresso, with cinnamon, honey, chocolate syrup, mint, and vodka, please."

The 'newbie' light in the man's eyes dimmed a little bit. "Um, we don't carry vodka." Glad that's the only thing he's worried about. Priorities.

Danny clicked his tongue. "Oh, well, it was worth a shot. I'd like everything else, though, please. Mix it at your own discretion."

"Alright," he was very valiant to go back to grinning, "Anything else?"

Danny motioned for Billy and the kid stepped up. "Can I get a large mocha, three chocolate chip cookies, and two sandwiches?"

The blond entered the order. "Of course! That'll be $25.37." A quick card swipe from Danny. "Thank you very much, we'll have your order out to you soon!"

The two didn't say a word as they chose a table in the corner. Danny let Billy take the seat that was open to the rest of the cafe so he wouldn't feel cornered. He had a good view of the door, though, so he wasn't complaining.

"So, how'd you do that?" Billy asked after they'd gotten their orders.

"How'd I do what?" Danny sipped his drink.

"How'd you walk outta that wall? It's solid!"

"Magic."

"I guessed that much."

"Then why'd you ask?"

"Will you teach me?"

"No."

"You didn't even think about it!"

"Okay," He paused. "No."

"Not fair." he pouted.

Putting his drink on the table, Danny summed as much fake-it-till-you-make-it energy as he could. "Magic isn't a toy and takes years of practice to get a handle on, not to mention you have to actually have an aptitude for it before you can even try. Besides, I don't know you nearly well enough to trust you with anything else."

Billy finished the cookie he was eating. "I can do it! You just gotta teach me!"

Another sigh that Danny had stopped counting. "Look, you seem like a good kid, but I'm not gonna teach you magic."

"Why not!"

"However," he continued, ignoring the demand, "I'm not gonna leave ya fully defenselessness."

"What do you mean?" Billy backed away slightly, his eyes narrowing as he moved to be able to run quickly.

Another sip. "Based off of the dirt you're covered in, the grease in your hair, and the overall poor condition of your clothes, I'm gonna bet that you're a street kid. So," he pulled a small card from his pocket, very aware that Billy was watching his hand aptly, "I'm going to leave you with this."

Slowly, the brunet took it and turned it over. "What it is?"

The white card had the initials DP in the middle, circled by an Ouroboros. The initials were completely solid, but the snake of the Ouroboros was made up of tiny runes of protection and health and healing and good fortune.

"My calling card. If you're ever in danger, hold that to your chest and ask for help. I'll be there."

Still obviously suspicious, Billy took a moment to scrutinize the card. It was cute to watch the kid act like he knew what he was looking at or for. When he seemed satisfied, he shoved the card into the inner pocket sewn into his jacket. "Thanks."

"No problem, kid," Pulling out his phone, Danny saw the time and stood, "I've gotta go now. I assume I've sufficiently bought your silence on the whole magic thing?"

Billy grinned, "I guess, but you gotta come visit me, okay?"

He chuckled, "Sure thing. See ya."

Part 2 Part 4

(I don't drink coffee, so Idk how that shit works)

Tag list: @zaiothe4th

[delulluart]

Quick fanart for @da-rulah's lovely sweet new fic for Bi King Copia, which you should go read now. And if you want to, click here 🌶 for the full version of this drawing.

[mellifera38]

I understand why Watcher wants to try and pull a Dropout TV, I do, advertisers suck etc, but if you want $6 a month from me to watch a glorified youtube channel, I'm gonna need Ryan and Shane to start a weekly DnD game like that's the only thing that could convince me to get yet another fucking subscription service in my rotation lol.

[nottheeconomy]

Monster high ghosties my beloved, they were always my favourite

I finally tried out those alcohol markers I got like months ago!

Uh don’t look too hard at Operetta or else you’ll see her surgery scars

Like I was using white watercolour as whiteout to cover the fallout of my hubris. And apparently, alcohol can activate watercolour. I was essentially colouring on quicksand.

To future me, if I ever think “surely I’m good enough that I can finalise the lines without doing a flip check!”

You’re wrong 🤡👨‍🦲

[uncommonsunlight]

Gonna go do other angry chore things shortly because anytime I sit to chill, I start doom scrolling but I just have to say, it's not about us wanting them to keep making things for free forever. It's about how they're treating fans who would have given anything they could, if they had just let us know what was going on before it got to this point.

It's about they hyped this as a huge news drop that we would all be super jazzed about...and then said "well I guess you guys don't want to follow us, peace out" when we weren't.

It's about them not doing a minimum of market research, or just TRY to use other alternatives, because they don't want to do the hard lifting of self-promotion, or have the patience to wait for their community to grow as they put out the content we really wanted to see.

It's about them not even caring enough about their fans to consider international costs and money exchanges and cutting out anyone outside of the U.S. because they thought "anyone can afford this".

It's not about them being worth $6 a month. It's about them deciding that if you can't afford that, you are not worth their time.

[goldenatreides]

the watcher announcing that they’re putting all their new content behind a paywall and leaving youtube on the same day as ttpd releases in two parts feels like consecutive sucker punches. feels like i’m mourning a best friend i lost to bad life decisions while attending a funeral hosted by me for myself

[sncwonthebeach]

Love, LOVE, the Watcher guys– OBVIOUSLY. However, I fear this is not the move. Locking content behind a paywall? See ya, good luck boys I hope it works well.

[afewproblems]

Lost and Lonely, Just Like Heaven (Part Two)

You can read part one here!

Steve sits frozen, upright against the headboard staring at the man they had left behind, he had left behind, in the Upside Down just weeks ago. 

He doesn’t scream. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d dreamt of Eddie, coming back to haunt him, his bloody hands reaching for his throat with pallid blue tinged fingers, ‘Your fault Harrington, you let me die Steve, you let me die,’ warbling out of ripped vocal chords and torn lips.

But this Eddie is different. He's lost some of the unnatural pallor, and the gore that had painted his body is gone. 

He’s clean. 

The wounds on his face and neck are still red and raw but don’t appear to be actively seeping. The bandana is missing, leaving Eddie’s mop of brown curls free flowing down his shoulders and back. The battle vest and jacket are gone as well, leaving him in the Hellfire shirt - which is miraculously spotless. He looks as though he has wandered straight out of the Hawkins High music room, out of the latest D&D session, rather than the noxious wasteland he’d been discarded in. 

This Eddie also hasn’t said a word the entire time he’s been in Steve’s bedroom.

He wanders around, inspecting Steve’s desk and the corkboard above it, leaning forward to take in the pinned polaroids and ticket stubs, old memories that used to make Steve grin when he’d see them. 

It’s hard to smile like that now. 

This Eddie reaches for a framed photo on the desk, one of Steve and Robin that Jonathan had taken the year before, but his hands travel through it and Steve’s heart drops into his stomach as Eddie tries again and again to pick up the photo. 

His arms fly out to grip at his hair in silent frustration as Eddie paces back and forth, he still hasn’t made a sound. 

But that's when he notices Steve. 

He’s making his way from the farthest corner of the room and turns back to stalk towards the desk once more but not before halting as he seems to spot the bed where Steve still sits, frozen, not daring to even breath at this point. 

“Steve?” Eddie whispers once, the words are croaky and soft as though Eddie hasn’t spoken for ages. 

And in a blink, he’s gone. 

Every night without fail Eddie appears in his room, sometimes pacing, sometimes looking out the window, sometimes sitting on the edge of the bed. 

These nights are the worst. 

Eddie is close enough to touch, but the bed does not dip from the weight of Eddie’s presence and the warmth of him does not seep into the blankets like it should. 

He only ever manages to say Steve’s name before he disappears, blinking out of existence like he was never there. 

It happens every night for a week straight before Steve tells someone. 

“What is up with you lately,” Robin asks on the following Tuesday as she gets into Steve’s car after school, he’s already dressed in the Family Video vest for their evening shift, ready to stand around and sort movie titles for the next six hours before heading home to his dark and empty house.

It's probably the most he can handle at the moment if he’s being honest with himself.

There were a few businesses that had survived the wreckage of the quakes, the arcade, the old cafe run by Ms. Benly, an older lady who took no shit and made the best apple pound cake on weekends; this too had become a regular haunt for Steve and Robin in between hospital visits and school. Mevalds general store was still running despite the hole in their roof, a large blue tarp had been fixed over it to stop the spring rain from coming in and causing even more damage. 

The rebuilding efforts were certainly coming along, but the fact that their rental place had been left completely untouched meant that the Family Video store was now a strange mixture of busy, with rushes that left Steve and Robin dead on their feet some nights, and slow. Some people still had the money to come in for a movie, some people simply needed the distraction. 

Tuesday would be slow, weeknights still typically were. 

He startles at the hand suddenly waving in front of his face, “He-llooo? Earth to Steve? Do I need to throw on ‘Head over Heels’?” Robin chirps nervously, she already has the tape in her hands and Steve winces at having brought back even the smallest memory of Vecna for her. 

“Sorry,” he says softly as he puts the car into drive, his movements sluggish, and pulls away from the street, “lost in thought”.

Robin watches him from the passenger seat, and snorts as she buckles up, “I’d offer you a penny for them but we both know they aren’t worth that much,” she snickers, flashing a soft smile his way.

“Rude,” Steve grumbles, but he can’t help the small laugh that bubbles up out of him, tension broken for the time being. 

She’s quiet for a moment, he can feel her blue eyes on him for the majority of the drive as they eventually pull into the parking lot and Steve puts the beemer into park and turns off the engine. 

She leans over him and reaches into the back to pull out her bag from the seat, letting it catch him on the back of the head as she brings it up front, “Asshole,” he snorts, rubbing his ear as Robin laughs and gets out of the car. 

Steve follows her through the double doors as Robin greets Keith who nods at her before going back to the book he’s reading at the counter. He ignores Steve, which is fine by him. It seems that Keith has moved on from actively threatening to fire him for the smallest offenses to merely pretending Steve doesn’t exist. 

It’s the small victories that count. 

They drop their things off in the backroom, Robin tosses her bag into one of the four lockers, not bothering to even close it properly before she heads out front to clock in. Steve rolls his eyes and flips the locker closed before putting his own jacket away. As he steps back to follow Robin the overhead fluorescent light flickers once. 

Steve swallows. 

He shakes his head and brings up a hand to pinch into his eyes roughly, lights flicker, these things happen, get a grip. The shadows around the room seem larger now, they seem to move as the lights flicker again.

Robin's locker suddenly takes this as an opportunity to slowly creak open as all of the lights flicker rapidly, over and over.

Steve's breathing catches in his chest as the small table set in the corner begins to shake, an old newspaper and several pens that had been left for the crossword slip off the table and roll into the dark. The violent rocking of the table set is just slightly offset from the rhythmic swinging of Robin's locker door. 

No, no, no, why was this happening? 

"What do you want?!" Steve shouts as he raises his hands to cover his ears, he shuts his eyes tight, willing it all to stop.

"Steve?" Says a voice behind him, he cries out sharply as he whirls around with his arms raised, only to see a startled Robin in front of him.

"Woah! What the fuck man?" She yells, taking two steps back.

The break room is normal. 

The lockers are closed, as he had left them. The  newspaper and pens are still sitting on the table undisturbed. The low hum of the fluorescent light above then continues on, the harsh white light illuminates every corner of the sparse room.

Steve wills himself to slow down his breathing; he grabs his hips to hide the shaking of his hands as he stutters out an apology.

"Sorry, got distracted, I'll-I'll be right out," he tries for a small smile but feels his face fall into a grimace the longer Robin stands there.

Robin stares at him, one eyebrow cocked in barely disguised skepticism before she sighs.

"Hurry up, Keith is unbearable today," she mutters before turning on her heel and walking back out the door.

Steve slowly releases a long breath through his mouth. He lifts a shaking hand to slide through his hair. This was the first time that this…whatever it was, had followed him, that it had happened outside of the darkest corners of the Harrington home. 

Maybe he's finally lost it, Steve thinks bitterly as he makes his way after Robin, leaving the empty break room behind him.

As he crosses the threshold he spots at the counter with Robin. She's inside the square employee's only desk and sitting at the computer while Keith prattles on at her. He slides a paper across the counter to Robin as he shrugs on a jean jacket. 

"Try and get through these before close," Keith mutters, "don't let Harrington slack off," he continues, still refusing to look at Steve even once. 

Robin nods and gives an exaggerated salute as Keith walks out the door, she turns away from the glass windows to make a face at Steve as she wags a finger at him, "you heard him, no slacking Harrington". 

He snorts and finishes stuffing his time card into the machine on the side of the counter, clocking in before taking a look at the list.

"So," she says quietly, "are we going to talk about what happened back there?"

Steve sighs and grabs the list and steps back, reading the first bullet point in Keith's messy scrawl, "I told you--"

"Yeah," Robin snaps, crossing her arms over her chest, the pins and her name tag on her vest click together from the sudden motion, "you were pretty convincing," she uncrosses her arms to place her hands on her hips and in a strained deep voice she says, "Sorry got distracted”. 

She lets her voice warble and shake and bites her lip as she lifts a hand to rest on her forehead like a distressed southern Belle.

Steve rolls his eyes, cheeks burning, his fingers crease the paper in his hands slightly, he resists the urge to crumple it up to toss in her face. 

"I don't sound like that, and nothing happened," he bites out before he walks to the returns cart and begins pushing it towards their New Releases section. 

He tries not to shout as Eddie's reflection stares at him from the window, as though he's standing in the stacks behind Steve and Robin.

"Yeah, okay," Robin says slowly, looking from Steve to the empty window, "did you take something? Do I need to call a DARE officer? Joyce? Maybe a priest?" 

Steve swallows as Eddie's reflection takes a step closer to him, "Maybe a priest Robs".

Robin's face seems to vibrate with the number of expressions she moves through in a matter of six seconds, she eventually settles on a worried grimace -the small vein throbbing in her temple is new though so, more worried than annoyed Steve thinks to himself as he forces himself away from the window. 

Steve can't quite bear to see Eddie right now, not when he knows he isn’t really there. 

"Explain. Quickly," Robin says, her voice clipped but soft as she throws the, 'Back in 1 Hour', sign on the door and hauls him into the backroom. It's only 4:45PM but no one's even walked past the front of the store in the last half hour so it feels safe enough to close for a bit.

Steve sighs as he takes a hesitant seat in the rickety chair that had been shaking and seizing only a few moments before. 

"Do you, and I know how stupid this sounds," Steve mumbles, licking his lips, his eyes trained firmly on the breakroom floor, "do you believe in ghosts?"

When he finally raises his gaze, Robin is looking at him with raised eyebrows that nearly disappear into her curly fringe, great.

"Forget it," Steve sighs as he brings his hands to his knees and rises from the chair, but Robin steps in his path and places a firm hand on his arm.

"Okay stop, first of all -it's only a little stupid," she says with a wry grin that tilts the corners of her mouth up until faint dimples form between her freckles, Steve rolls his eyes and tries to step past her but she moves with him, keeping her hand on his arm. 

Her blue eyes dart back and forth between his own as she continues slowly, "And second, I think people can be haunted? Like things from the past or whatever, maybe that's all ghosts are?" 

And, huh. 

That, that makes some sense doesn't it? He hasn't been sleeping well, they could be dreams, do people have waking dreams though? If they are tired enough? 

He doesn't want to think about the possibility of hallucinations. 

Not yet. 

"Is it," Robin bites her lip as though to catch the words, to stuff them back down before they can escape, "is it Eddie?" 

Steve nods and brings both hands up to grip the back of his neck, hard. She's always been perceptive, or maybe he's just too easy to read, either way, he's grateful for it. Robin's warm hand falls away from his arm as she lifts it to chew on her nails. 

He tuts at the sight, she'd finally started growing them out, having proudly mentioned to Steve her attempts to break her old nervous habit. 

"Hey, hey" he says gently, grabbing her hand to pull it away from her teeth, "you know, it's probably just a nightmare or something Robs, you're right, okay?" 

She nods and grins, it doesn't quite reach her eyes like the last one but at least she doesn't seem moments away from deadbolting the door anymore. 

"Yeah, I mean, what would Eddie even want to say to you of all people," she snorts, letting the tension fall away with her laugh. 

And that's when the radio turns on. 

Steve and Robin slowly turn to the old Seville Radio that had been donated to the breakroom by a predecessor. 

The sound jumbles from station to station, a mixture of static and voices spread through the room as the fluorescent light flickers again, just as it had earlier. Robin freezes beside him and Steve feels himself stop breathing. 

He wasn’t crazy, this was happening.

The stations change again and again, moving around faster and faster until the slightest pattern emerges.

"Som-" 

"Tele-"

"Evan-"

And again.

"Se-"

"Ton-"

"Edu-"

"Van-"

And again.

"S-"

"T-"

"E"

"V"

"E" 

...

"Ssss-"

"T-"

"Eeeee"

"Vvvvv"

"Eeeeee" 

And as suddenly as it starts, it stops, leaving the room in silence. 

If it hadn't been for the small shuddering breaths from Robin, Steve would have thought he had gone deaf. She slips closer to him, her face white as a sheet.

"I guess I stand corrected," Robin whispers, "what the fuck Steve?"

Part three now up!

[weepingwitch]

the person who i sometimes play music with once again turns out to not have been ghosting me but was just in the psych ward and then rehab

[iamanartichoke]

There’s not enough discourse in the paranormal fandom about those of us who are such space cases that we could walk into the kitchen and find all the chairs stacked on top of the table in a manner that defies physics and either a) not notice, or b) notice and think, huh, I don’t remember doing that - maybe it was the cat?

[millardcrow]

[shabbyshoebox]

Ectober Haunt 2023 - Day 3: White Crow - The Messenger

Just a little guy sneaking out to deliver a message

Anyway, let's see if I can catch up with the current Ectober! I've been meaning to get started for a hot minute there, but life has happened (and I may have bit off more than I can chew for the Botanomancy prompt, but that's between me and my hubris).

[vivisockless]

Dragged along

[champagnewishes]

ok i heard watcher has put up an update and i basically got the tldr from literally everyone. im so so glad they responded and took the feedback and criticism people have given!!! as much as i was complaining about the whole thing, i DO want to support them but it just wasn't feasible long-term (paying 5.99usd/mo for what seems to be just 4 videos).

now that it's been addressed, im more likely to subscribe on their website when/if im able JUST to support them cause honestly i could wait a month for the free yt release but i actually do want to support them and help them succeed!!!

[ghcstcd]

Tomorrow is my birthday, please gods above and below, I want just one day of no physical pain. That's it!