#Retro Revelations

[retrorevelations]

Here's my tribute to my favorite, and in this man's opinion the BEST Doctor, the singular and amazing Jon Pertwee. http://retrorevelations.blogspot.com/2017/11/for-love-of-jon-pertwee-why-third.html

[floorpancakes]

[mrmistopher]

You know, playing Persona 1 is quite interesting, because it's not at all what I expected based on what I've seen of the later installments. Like, you navigate dungeons in first-person and part of the strategy in the battle system is reorganizing your party along a grid so they can be close enough to an enemy you want them to attack. Like damn, this is weirdly unique and it looks like no other entry in the series brought this stuff back

[retropopcult]

Floats make their way through the Mardi Gras crowds down Canal Street, 1971

[retrogamelovers]

Today's pickup!

[sl33py-g4m3r]

Shin Megami Tensei Tokyo Revelations [English Dub]

Down a rabbit hole of old anime I wanna share~~~~

Now with an English dub for once~~

and more MegaTen~~

[ghw-archive]

[vintagerpg]

Anomalous Subsurface Environment takes a novel approach to contending with the inherent irrationality of the dungeon by embracing it. There’s no secret at the center that makes it all suddenly make sense (in part because after two volumes — ASE1, 2011, and ASE2-3, 2012, both print-on-demand — the dungeon remains unfinished, but still, the introduction is pretty clear that there are no revelations to be had).

The dungeon came into existence spontaneously and persists thanks to a maintenance staff of self-created elemental spirits and defies any further explanation. The ASE was discovered in our own cyberpunk future by a megacorp that built large facilities around the ASE to research and extract profit. At some point, an unknown disaster forced the megacorp to seal the complex, trapping staff and resources inside. Fast forward 4,000 years into a retro-future resembling Thundarr the Barbarian, where the detritus of high technology mixes with magic and the ASE is, mysteriously, open for exploration once again. Thus, ASE is both as bizarre as its freeform funhouse ancestors but benefits from the narrative framework of modern megadungeons like Stonehell.

The central implication is that the system of the universe wanted dungeons to exists so badly that it just summoned one into existence, complete with all the silly game logic that had developed over the last 40 years, to see what would happen. The book present the ASE as the product of indomitable will that lacks driving intelligence. This is both brilliant and deeply, deeply weird. Watch out for the cornstalk warriors.

[galaxysupreme17]

Alice Trial

Y/n = Your Name

Agathrio x daughter!reader

Alice Wu Gulliver x fem!Harkness!reader

A/n: The outfit above is Y/n's fit for the trial!

Y/n and Alice strolled back to the group, fingers intertwined, looking calm yet ready for what lay ahead. Agatha's face softened as she watched the two young witches approach. With a gentle nod to her daughter, she led the group to the house, where they paused before entering. Alice held Y/n's hand tightly, hanging back to let everyone else enter first.

Y/n turned to Alice, smiling reassuringly, and leaned in to kiss her cheek. "I'm with you, my love. You're not alone."

Alice gave a small nod, her eyes softened. "Thank you," she whispered. With that, Y/n gently pulled her inside.

The 70s-themed decor caught Y/n's eye immediately-faded colors, shag carpets, and floral wallpaper. If asked, she'd say the 70s were her favorite era. Before she could revel in nostalgia, Alice's voice snapped her out of her thoughts.

"Don't drink anything. Don't eat anything. Don't. Touch. Anything." Alice's tone was serious, her eyes darting around the room.

Y/n chuckled, trying not to blush as she admired how stunning Alice looked in her retro outfit. "Got it, boss."

Rio raised an eyebrow, smirking at Alice. "Sounds like there's a story there."

Y/n rolled her eyes. The frustration of hearing her other mother began to bubble.

Agatha's delighted gasp drew their attention as she studied her reflection in a nearby mirror. "Oh, check me out!" She posed, making everyone laugh as they joined her, admiring each other's retro attire. Y/n smiled, loving her look until she felt warm arms wrap around her waist.

The teen spoke up, grinning. "We look like an album cover waiting to happen."

Y/n giggled, leaning into Alice. Eyeing the room thoughtfully, Lilia murmured, "The road changes for the coven."

Alice sighed, burying her head in Y/n's wild, brown curls. "The road isn't subtle."

Rio chuckled as she leaned forward. "So, what happens next?" Her grin was mischievous, prompting a faint eye roll from Y/n.

Y/n took a deep breath, looking back at Rio. "A test."

From across the room, Jen shot Agatha a stern look. "No cheating this time, Agatha."

Agatha raised her hands in mock innocence. "Who, me?"

Teen's hand shot up with a suggestion. "Last trial had clues, right? Maybe we look for some."

The group dispersed, everyone on edge but eager to solve the mystery. Alice stayed close, keeping her hand wrapped around Y/n's as they examined posters lining the wall. "Hey, Fleetwood Mac! Mom took me to see them in concert back in the real '70s. We even met Stevie backstage!" Y/n's face lit up as she shared the memory.

Alice watched her, the warmth in her gaze unmistakable. Y/n was her anchor, her love. She'd do anything to protect her.

They stopped before a faded photo of Lorna, a wave of unease washing over them. Y/n gently squeezed Alice's hand, pressing a gentle kiss to her temple. "It'll be okay, my love."

But Y/n's focus shifted when the overhead speakers clicked on, and her stomach twisted. Standing by the booth, both her mothers were locked in a tense conversation. As Rio's voice carried across the room, a loud, distorted song began to play, making everyone flinch.

"What... is that?" Y/n shouted, clapping her hands over her ears.

"Sorry!" Teen cringed, fumbling with the speakers. "I thought it was a clue!"

Alice scoffed. "What made you think that?"

He held up a record sleeve labeled in bold letters, "PLAY ME."

Without missing a beat, Agatha seized the record player and smashed it, silencing the song.

"We've been cursed," Lilia muttered grimly.

A slow ticking sound started up from a metronome nearby. Rio pointed at it with a glint in her eye. "Looks like the trial has started." She chuckled.

"Why are you smiling?" Jen asked warily, stepping back.

"She's a tourist," Agatha and Y/n said in unison.

Jen grimaced. "More like a psycho," he muttered.

Alice sighed, adjusting her stance. "Anyone else feels...?" She paused, catching Y/n's gaze.

"What?" Y/n asked, concern flickering in her eyes.

"I feel... lighter," Alice murmured, just before a sharp pain seared across Y/n's shoulders. She cried out, collapsing in agony.

Agatha rushed to her side, frantic. "Y/n! Honey, it's okay. We're going to fix this."

Thinking fast, Alice grabbed a dagger from Rio and drew a protective circle, chanting in Latin. As soon as the circle was complete, she knelt beside Y/n, brushing hair from her face.

Teen stammered out ideas. "Breaking a curse... smudge sticks? A salt bath? Or, what if we track down the witch who cast it?"

Agatha shook her head, eyes narrowed. "Once vengeance is loosed, it can't be reined in."

"The only way to end a curse is to face it," Lilia added, pointing at Alice.

Just then, Jen dropped to the floor, clutching his shoulders in pain. Alice moved to him, repeating the spell she'd used on Y/n. Teen noticed scorch marks on Jen's skin and gasped, "Your shoulders!"

Agatha moved to inspect Y/n, gently brushing aside her hair to reveal similar burns. Her hand trembled as she traced them, causing Y/n to flinch. Y/n and Alice exchanged a silent look, each recognizing the scars.

Suddenly, a piercing scream echoed around them.

"What is that?" Jen cried out, alarmed.

Rio's voice rang out from the couch. "That's the curse."

Alice bolted over to inspect the shattered record, trying to piece it together. Agatha stormed over, grabbing Alice by the shoulders. "It's you, isn't it? You brought this here."

Y/n intervened, tugging Agatha back. "Leave her alone, Mama!"

Alice's composure crumbled. "I didn't think it was real... I thought it was me-that I ruin everything I touch, that I... couldn't save her." She glanced at Y/n, her voice breaking. With a shaky hand, she revealed matching scars on her shoulders. "I convinced myself they were birthmarks, like hers."

Jen's eyes widened. "Wait. A generational curse?"

"Oh, you poor thing," Lilia whispered.

"Poor us!" Jen snapped. "Now we're stuck with this ancient family curse!"

Alice's voice broke as she whispered, "I'm sorry."

Y/n clasped Alice's hand, offering silent reassurance. Just then, the curse surged again, throwing Teen across the room. The group scrambled to his side.

"Is he okay?" Jen called, hesitant to leave her circle.

Agatha sighed, exasperated. "Are you just going to live in that circle forever?"

"Maybe!" Jen muttered.

"What's the plan, Agatha?" Rio asked, her tone mocking.

Y/n glanced at a dusty set of instruments in the corner, an idea forming. "We have to play Lorna's Ballad."

"No!" Alice protested. "I'm not playing that song."

Agatha nodded, extending her hands. "All signs point to a jam session."

Alice groaned. "What good will it do? We opened the road by coming here."

"Lorna's version is different," Y/n urged. "She was a protection witch. She's trying to help you."

Agatha's voice was fierce. "You'd have burned to ash long ago if someone hadn't played that song."

The curse screeched, rattling them. "Alright, who's on piano?" Agatha barked.

Lilia shook her head, picking up the Zils instead. Jen reluctantly grabbed the guitar after Agatha pointed it at her.

"Jen!" Agatha snapped, rolling her eyes when Jen took her time.

Alice reluctantly took her place at the piano, with Y/n by her side and guitar in hand. Agatha's eyes met hers, and she offered a soft smile.

"Alice. Play it right, play it good, and maybe we won't die."

They launched into the song, and the curse reacted violently, searing Agatha. Y/n tried to run to her, but Agatha waved her off. "Keep playing!"

As they finished the song, the curse dissipated, its haunting presence finally gone. Alice rushed to Y/n's side, and they embraced, clinging to each other tightly.

A moment later, Teen collapsed, and they scrambled to help him. Y/n knelt by his side, heartbroken. He reminded her so much of her younger brother, Nicky.

"Jen! What do we do?" Agatha asked, her voice cracking.

"He's young, strong," Lilia began, only for Agatha to cut her off sharply. "Don't."

She turned to Rio, her voice softer. "Don't."

Rio, looking conflicted, turned her gaze to Y/n, who was desperately trying to use her magic to heal the teen, only to find it faltering.

"Jen, what do you need?" Agatha's voice was desperate.

Jen took a steadying breath. "Water and moonlight."

Alice dashed off, returning with water that Jen enchanted under the moon's light. Gently, she poured it onto Teen's wounds. With a collective breath, they watched the magic take hold, finally healing him. Relieved, Agatha's gaze lingered on Y/n, noticing the tears rolling down her face.

Agatha glanced toward Alice, then nodded subtly in Y/n's direction. Catching the unspoken request, Alice gently took Y/n's hand and led her a few steps away, giving Agatha and the other witches room. The two of them began assembling a makeshift tent while Agatha watched as the witches carefully laid Teen down. Agatha hesitated momentarily, then shrugged off her coat, draping it over the young witch. With a sigh, she knelt down beside him and settled in, waiting quietly.

Alice caught Y/n's eye, gesturing toward the campfire where the other witches had gathered. Y/n gave a faint smile and nodded.

"I'll be there in a few minutes," she murmured, watching Alice head off before returning to Agatha. She slipped down beside her mother, who reached out and gently brushed a strand of hair from Y/n's face, smiling softly.

"You're worried he's going to end up like Nicky," Y/n said quietly, her voice thick with unshed tears. She looked at Agatha, who closed her eyes, the weight of that fear pressing down on her. Agatha swallowed hard and nodded, unable to find words.

Y/n leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to Agatha's cheek, a silent reassurance that said more than words. With a final look, she rose to her feet and walked toward the fire where Alice was waiting. Seeing her approach, Alice smiled and patted the ground beside her, inviting Y/n to sit. Y/n settled in between Alice's legs, resting back against her, and Alice instinctively wrapped her arms around Y/n's waist, planting a soft kiss on the back of her head.

Rio watched the two of them quietly. Her heart caught between pride and a hint of nostalgia. She still saw Y/n as the ten-year-old girl who used to grow flowers with her, who'd laugh with her as they plotted harmless pranks on Agatha. It was bittersweet to see how much she had grown.

Lilia's voice broke Rio's reverie. "You know, the worst part of being a witch? The ridiculous rumors people come up with. They think we talk to goats or have an extra nipple," she laughed, drawing chuckles from everyone.

Rio smirked, feigning shock. "Wait, you all don't have extra nipples? I'm covered in them. Wanna see?" she teased.

Y/n covered her face, laughing with everyone else. Hearing the commotion, Agatha walked over, her gaze softening as she took in her daughter, safe and content. She settled beside Rio, and soon, the group fell into easy conversation, sharing stories of physical and otherwise scars.

Y/n showed off the faint scar on her ear, recounting the time a stray dog bit her when she was thirteen. Agatha had been furious and, for a moment, had considered hunting down the dog herself. Lilia lifted her hair to reveal a faint mark on her neck. "Vampire," she explained with a shiver. "That one stung a bit."

Y/n turned to Agatha. "How's he doing?" she asked softly.

"Still as mouthy as ever," Agatha replied with a small smile.

"That's a good sign," Lilia nodded approvingly.

Jen, who had been listening quietly, broke in with a mischievous grin. "Agatha, why don't you show us your battle scars?"

Agatha smirked and rolled up her sleeve, revealing a faint scar near her elbow. "Knitting needle," she said, chuckling. "Ever heard of the Daughters of Liberty?"

The others shook their heads, confused.

"Exactly," Agatha replied with a smirk, drawing laughter from everyone.

Rio's gaze softened, and she spoke up after a moment of thought. "I've got two scars," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Agatha tensed, her eyes flicking over to Rio. "No, you don't," she muttered quickly.

But Rio continued, her eyes steady on Agatha. "A long time ago, I loved someone. I had to make a choice-a choice I didn't want to make, even though it was my job. And it hurt... it hurt her. And our daughter. They are my scars." Her words lingered in the air, heavy with meaning, as she looked straight at Agatha.

Agatha stood abruptly, mumbling something about needing to stretch her legs. After a beat, Rio followed, leaving Y/n shifting uncomfortably by the fire, emotions welling up in her chest. Alice tightened her arms around her, kissing her temple gently, offering quiet comfort.

"It's okay, my love," Alice whispered into Y/n's ear. "Just like you were there for me, I'm here for you now." Alice knows about everything. She knows about Nicky, about Rio, about everything. Y/n saw no reason to hide her past from her girlfriend. Therefore, Alice knew what this revelation from Rio was doing to Y/n on the inside.

Y/n's tense shoulders began to soften, and though she tried to fight it, exhaustion crept over her. She rested her head on Alice's shoulder, closing her eyes as Alice continued to murmur soothing words, holding her close as sleep finally overtook her.

[snapscube]

Have you downloaded emudeck on your steam deck? It's so amazing and I've been able to finish so many retro games bc of it!

oh yeah EmuDeck was a must-install the MOMENT it came out for my original model and i am actually installing it on my new OLED model as i type this LOL. it's a revelation tbh

[retrorevelations]

For this year's Halloween piece, I wrote about the classic Hollywood movie monsters, and the films that I feel best represent them! Hope you all have a happy spooky season! https://retrorevelations.blogspot.com/2024/10/creatures-of-night-best-of-classic.html

[thescribblesofreverie]

WIP Excerpt - Aaron Hotchner x teen!reader

I thought I would share just a little snippet of a project I'm working on. It's a series about Aaron meeting a teenager on a case who ends up being involved, and there's just something so familiar about her...

Reader does use she/her pronouns.

Everyone had that one touchy subject that seemed to bring back memories of events and cases past. Everyone knew that J.J. was the one who was affected by cases involving children. 

But this time it was Hotch who felt his chest restrict with each new fact presented. With every body found the pressure of solving this case felt ten times heavier on his shoulders.

On his nightstand, the alarm clock’s neon blue numbers read 3:22 A.M. He was pacing around the hotel room, mind racing a mile a minute. The facts and theories of the case were incredibly confusing. Everytime the team got close, something drastic changed and they were at square one.

Four young, innocent girls were dead, and a fifth was going to be soon if they didn’t shape up.

Hotch glanced out the window of the third story room to see a small diner in the plaza across the street. On its left there was a tobacco store with big yellow block lettering covering the window pains with advertisements promoting vapes and discounted cartons of Mavericks. To its right there was a laundromat, with a few letters of the sign tilted from rusted out nails crumbling away instead of holding it fast. The glowing blue and pink sign on the diner read “open 24 hours”, though it flickered out every few seconds. Glancing at the clock on the wall, he sighed.

Nothing was getting done in this small room, and the diner would have coffee. He had heard before the coffee from 24 hour diners was always better. He doubted that to be true, but at least it would be caffeinated. 

He grabbed the coat off of the chair in the corner of the room, and quietly left, locking the door behind him.

It was a short walk across the street. He pushed open the door, and a bell jingled.

Soft sounds of 70’s music filled his ears. His eyes found a pastel yellow and mint green jukebox in the corner. It was your typical retro themed diner. Checkerboard flooring, blue and pink booths and tables, milkshake decals on the wall, and a long bar that a waitress was cleaning with a rag. With the typical 50’s decorations and colors, but 70’s music playing and newspapers from the 80’s on the wall, the establishment seemed to lack a general knowledge on what decade it was supposed to be emulating. Nonetheless, there was a pot of coffee sitting behind the counter, and it wasn’t like this was the strangest 3 A.m. experience he had ever had. 

Hotch looked away and sat at the counter, waiting patiently for the waitress to meander her way over to him. She finished wiping down the section of counter she had been working on and dropped the rag in a basket beneath the counter. Finally, she looked over at him.

20-24 year old girl, medium build, round face, brown eyes, umber skin, and dark black waves of hair. She shouldn’t be working alone at night, he thought. Not with a killer on the loose.

“What can I get for you?” She asked, all but rolling her eyes. Her name tag said “Marisa”. 

“Just a coffee please.” He said quietly.

“Black?”

He nodded.

As she went across the room to fill up a mug, he took a moment to revel in the peace he rarely got to feel while on a case.

The soft lighting and low music was almost comforting, in an odd way. He took a deep breath and slowly exhaled.

Marisa set the mug of steaming coffee in front of him. “Just brewed a new pot, so you’re lucky.”

“Thanks-”

The jingling of the door interrupted him. 

“Marisa, darling!” A feminine voice cooed. 

The waitress had a look of annoyance flash across her face before she quickly covered and plastered on a smile.

“Julie, welcome in. Go ahead and take your usual booth. I’ll get you a coffee and… I’m so sorry sweetheart, what’s your name again?”

“Y/N. I’ll have orange juice, please.” 

At the mention of her name Hotch looked over his shoulder. Y/N was dressed in a pair of plaid pajama pants and an oversized hoodie. Her shoulders were hunched and as she sat down in the both, she immediately curled into the corner, like it was supporting her. Dark circles hung under her eyes and as he watched, she put a hand up to her mouth to hide a yawn.

It was early Thursday morning. And unless there was something going on that he didn’t know about, she had school in four hours. What was she doing up?

[frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe]

Okay this idea has been rotting my brain all night and i need to get it out; i may turn this into a full fic (there’s so much more to eddie and how he died), but here’s some paranormal romance steddie! (with a nod to the @azrielgreen -verse at the end 😉)

edit: i've started posting the full fic! on tumblr | on AO3

—

imagine ghost!eddie haunting the estate that was built overtop where his trailer had been

ghost!eddie becoming corporeal(ish) every halloween, letting his rage fuel the poltergeist rumors at the old estate.

the forest hills estate sits empty since being completed, until Steve Harrington moves in from Indianapolis.

Steve Harrington who uses the inheritance from his grandfather to fix up the old place, not knowing the rumors, the stories, that have been floating around the last nearly 40 years.

Steve, who ends up learning about them from a pack of young teens riding by the front gate on their bikes.

“You know that place is haunted as fuck, right?” says the red head.

“Language!” he scowls at her, only to get an eye roll from her and the gangly, greasy looking one. “And no, I didn’t know that. Is that why all my cabinets are open every morning when I wake up?” he asks. And they really had been, he kinda figured that there was something going on in that house but hadn’t felt threatened by whatever presence was there.

He relishes in their spooked faces.

“A girl died there and her boyfriend killed the guy who did it soon after.” the one with the high top fade said earnestly.

“Allegedly, Lucas! Allegedly!” this time it’s the one with the curly hair and cap. “He always thought it was him but there was literally a letter.”

“He could’ve faked it, Dustin!” the gangly one snarks at his friend.

“It’s not likely, handwriting forensics concluded it to be her handwriting.” oof, this kid desperately needs a haircut.

“POINT IS.” the red head yells over the boys. It must’ve been a regular occurrence though, as they all fall silent (or silent enough while still bickering). She turns back to an amused Steve, “He likes metal music. If you play it, I’m sure he’ll leave your cabinets alone.”

“He who? The ghost?”

She nods, “Yep!”

So he does, picks up some retro vinyl to play (along with playing some tracks from his phone over his speaker while he works on the house), figuring if the guy died in the 80s, he’d probably like the sound of them better.

He plays the music, finds he likes some of it, talks to this mystery ghost as he goes about the house finishing projects. Throws some classic rock on sometimes too, saying “Hey ghost man, I’m sorry but I can’t listen to this much metal at a time. Hope Zepplin is okay.”

ghost!eddie who will always use some of his ghostly persuasion over things to spin the vinyl backwards on the turntable during ‘Stairway to Heaven’.

Steve, who does some research and learns about his supposed ghost, yells in greeting as soon as he’s back from the library, “Hi, Eddie!! I’m home!” reveling in the swirls of cold air that spin around him in response along with just a ghost (hah) of a whispered “Hi, Stevie..” in his ear.

Steve and Eddie, who get closer and closer over the months, learning anything and everything about one another. Steve goes through a lot of paper in the first couple weeks, asking a question and waiting for the paper with ‘Yes’ or ‘No’ written on it to flutter in an unseen breeze. Which paper scribbled with a different color marker to fly up into his lap (Eddie’s favorite color is blue, Steve tells him his is yellow).

Steve, beginning to see the shadow of another person in the corner of his eye more often the not as the summer winds into fall and the repairs he needed done are wrapping up.

By September there’s no denying the figure he sees reaching a hand out to flick up the answer to a question, or the laughter he hears coming from it after a particularly bad joke.

The shadow is Eddie; and Steve is starting to make out details about his ghost.

The long fluffy hair, the slim waist, the dark eyes that pierce through shadow against the slowly brightening skin beneath.

Eddie, who realizes Steve must be able to see him and starts staying away more often then not, afraid of what he’d see in that beautiful face when he’s finally his old boring self again. Can’t bear to see that disappointment on the face of this man he’s come to care so much for (read: fully crushing on).

He retreats fully by mid September, sticking to the far less quantifiable shadows in the house and between the walls.

Steve still tries, bless him. Leaves questions all over the place, hoping to see them answered. Eddie does, every night, wanting Steve to know he’s still here.

A week later, “Eddie, I know you can hear me, can you make sure to answer this one as soon as you can? I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, but I figured we maybe show off our house—the house—now that everything’s done.”

‘Our house!! He said our house!!!’

Eddie looks at what his Steve left on the new kitchen counter that night.

“Halloween Party?” is scrawled on an open page of their now worn notebook.

Something hot floods his chest at that. Steve wanting to make sure he’s okay with that many people being here at once. Eddie knows damn well what the feeling is and he’s not about to waste his corporeal time this year, he’s going to do something with it besides wreaking havoc (on the house at least).

Halloween arrives, and many in the small town want a glimpse into the old estate. There are people everywhere, costumes and all.

Steve’s proud of all the hard work he’s done to the place but he still misses Eddie. Wishes he could be here to see what had become of the place he’d hated for so long. See it for real.

Halfway through the night is when it happens.

The party is in full swing, his ballroom full of people and music and food. His playlist changes over to Bowie.

Steve smiles to himself at the memory the song pulls forward. Still soon after learning about Eddie and staring their questions and answers thing, Steve had put on Labyrinth, laughing at how frantically the “i LOVED it!” paper had swirled around in the air after asking Eddie’s opinion.

A new face he hadn’t seen in the crowd before catches his eye. This man coming down the staircase is striking. Long, dark, curly hair is pulled back in a low ponytail, lean legs in off white pants, sparkling dark blue jacket, slim waist… He’s so gorgeous, so ethereal, he can’t be real.

Okay, nope, everyone else in the room is parting for this man. So, definitely real.

Steve stands as the man approaches, a hand extended. Keeping their eyes locked on each other, the man leads Steve by the hand to the center of the room.

The man smirks at Steve, still stunned, and arranges their arms. Then they’re dancing, swirling around the space the crowd created for them.

Steve feels like he’s floating.

He’s dancing to As The World Falls Down with a breathtaking man he now realizes is definitely dressed as the Jareth to his Sarah.

Steve finally finds his voice, “Hi..” It’s barely a whisper.

The man smirks, scoffs a laugh, but whispers back: “Hi Stevie.”

Steve’s brain screeches to a halt, and the man’s eyes sparkle with mischief (and a little bit of apprehension).

He can’t compute the information right away, frantically scrambling for a logical explanation. Some way for someone to know about Eddie enough to imitate him, to know about ‘Stevie’..but comes up with nothing. Nada. Zip. Zilch.

“Eddie…is that really you?”

“Yeah, sweetheart, it’s really me.”

Eddie brings their foreheads together and they sway to the rest of the song, Eddie softly singing along.

The song ends and Steve pulls Eddie through the crowd and out into the garden.

His mind is still swirling, so he clings onto Eddie’s arms just as much as Eddie clings to his.

“Eddie—“

“Wait, Steve, let me..” Eddie clears his throat and explains everything. How he died, how long he spent his one night of reality trying to keep people away from where he and his best friend had died. “I don’t want to waste tonight, but I’m afraid if I—if I tell you how I feel about you…I will be complete. Done with my unfinished business and all that.”

“How do you know?”

Eddie chuckles. “The Moon.”

Steve now fully, painfully aware of how little remains of the night, how little time he may have with Eddie altogether, decides he doesn’t have time to unpack that. So he says “Kiss me. Eddie, please, kiss m—“

Eddie does, and the Moon smiles down on her beloveds.

[retropopcult]

Mardi Gras in Lafayette, Louisiana, February 1980.

[retrogamelovers]

Which is better?

[gerryrigged]

dick&tim, jaytim - the favorite

sort of sideways to my dicktim jaytim 'the girls are fightinggg' post, but -

look even in a world where DickTim genuinely isn't a thing it would be so funny for Dick to get increasingly perturbed watching JayTim get closer. He doesn't even clock that they're flirting - he pays a bunch of lip service to appreciating Tim's efforts to bring Jason closer to the family, but in private he corners Tim like,

"So you and Jason are getting along really well huh? Spending a lot of time together. Hanging out. Buddying it up, you might say."

And Tim's a lil nervous because he thinks Dick knows they're fucking and he's 100% sure that Dick is going to be a nightmare about it, so he's like, "Uh, yeah, we've been working on some cases. It's going pretty well… He's not so bad, really."

And Dick just puts his hands on Tim's shoulders gravely like, "Just be honest with me, Timmy."

Tim gulps.

Dick's hands tighten, and his eyebrows crease in distress.

"Am I neglecting you as your big brother? Are you shopping for a new favorite? I can do better, I swear - hey, let's go to the retro arcade this weekend and break all of our old Batman Pinball scores!"

Tim thinks he's joking and cracks up a little but is gob-smacked when it turns out Dick is like Actually Upset, lol. It's so simultaneously endearing, hilarious and ridiculous that Tim's face must do something pretty weird, because Dick worriedly asks if he's alright.

Tim legitimately has to reassure Dick that he remains Tim's favorite brother.

"Not that the demon brat gives you much competition," he jokes.

Dick smiles a bit, obviously relieved, but does add, "I mean, technically Jason is also your brother - you've both been adopted by Bruce - "

And Tim very firmly is like, "Nope, nope, nope, the zombie undead have no legal status; I only have one older brother and that's you."

Dick relaxes a bit, but continues to playfully argue the point, given that he still sort of sees Jason as his younger brother. He relaxes further with every exaggeratedly disgusted face Tim makes.

Tim tells Jason about it later and has to whack him repeatedly with a pillow in embarrassment when Jason nearly dies in a laughing fit.

Jason has never had a single iota of brotherly feeling toward Tim in his life - diametrically the opposite, actually, in both negative and positive directions at different points. But after this priceless revelation of brotherly insecurity he renews Dick's paranoia by hamming it up to insufferable levels whenever he knows Dick is around to notice.

Putting a chummy arm around Tim's shoulders; calling him "buddy" and "little bro"; condescendingly offering to like, play catch with him and educate him on the birds and the bees (Tim elbows him in the stomach for that one); making up recent trips to a ~certain arcade~ ("Our retro arcade?" Dick whispers, heartbroken. Tim is about to fold like a wet tissue but Jason hurriedly smothers his face in Jason's shoulder in the guise of a big-brotherly hug); even sacrificing a smidge of his stubborn familial rejection of Bruce by referring to him as 'OUR old man', though he carefully makes sure Bruce isn't in earshot.

Dick is just Gripped by resurgent Anxieties, lmao.

Tim considers putting a stop to it (his boyfriend even play-acting the older brother role is pretty gag-worthy tbh), but ultimately he doesn't because Dick deserves a little ribbing over this. Or a lot.

Master detective, honestly.

Until finally one night Tim is slow-riding Jason in one of Red Hood's apartments, smirking down at Jason's blissed-out face as he rolls his hips sensuously - when Tim glances up and just about has a heart attack seeing Nightwing's upside-down face sprout abruptly from the top of the window frame.

Dick: HOLY SHIT, YOU'RE JUST FUCKING, THANK CHRIST

Jason: WHAT THE -

Dick: oh my god this is such a weight off my mind you don't even know -

Jason, literally balls-deep in Tim: - will you fucking GET LOST, DICKHEAD, we're in the MIDDLE OF SOMETHING -

Dick: - I've been losing sleep, Tim, how could you let me think you were replacing me -

Tim, hands over his beet-red face: Dick could you just - look I'll call you later -

Jason, thrusting pointedly: THE FUCK YOU WILL, WE'RE BUSY, YOUR NIGHT IS BOOKED

Dick is still a little bit of a nightmare about it later, but not nearly as much as he otherwise would have been because he's so relieved to still be Tim's one and only Favorite Big Brother, lol.