#DWU

[moronic-validity]

The Suitor

And, as promised, the last fic posted out of order!

As always, big shout out to @stickyarbiterwombat and @yaoibrainworms for proof reading and editing the fic with me last night, ilysm

18+ bc the rest of the series is!

The day started off normal enough.

Winter woke up first and made his way to the throne room to find Simon asleep on the table they usually worked at. He was bundled in the two blankets Winter had offered him the night prior when he refused a space in his bed. 

In fact, he had denied even a guest bedroom, apparently preferring to sleep at, or rather, on the table they spent most of their days at. 

Winter walked past him, to the hot chocolate bar he kept in the room for anyone who had requested his audience. There was a primitive 21st century coffee maker behind the ornate drink dispensers. 

He found himself humming as the coffee brewed. It was a boring process, but he was more than happy to have to make a full pot for once, instead of just one for himself.

Winter turned back to wake his sleeping friend, only to find him groggily rubbing his eyes, sitting on the edge of the table.

“Ah, good morning sleepy head!” Winter’s lilting voice rang through the room. 

“When’s the coffee ready?” Simon stretched, trying to get his aching back to pop.

Ah, so not a morning person. Winter made a mental note of this.

“Should only be another minute or so, what would you like for breakfast?” 

Winter’s question was met with a shrug. 

Simon wasn’t exactly sure he wanted to attempt to traverse the icy floor this early in the morning. Even with his shoes on, he knew he’d fall, and in his opinion, it was too early for that. 

He found himself kicking his legs back and forth while he waited. 

Winter brought over two mugs, both a rich blue, and shockingly not made of ice.

Simon recognized them immediately.

“The mugs Betty picked out? You still have them?” 

“Oh of course I do, they’re fantastic mugs,” Winter gave a small chuckle, “She always had good taste.” 

Winter sat on the table next to Simon, both casually drinking their hot coffee. 

“So, what’re we doing today?” 

Winter was always caught off guard by how eager Simon was to get back to work, though he shouldn’t be; he was the same way.

“Well, I believe I’m going to have you review some requests that were made by citizens of the kingdom, most are probably run of the mill things,” he attempted to not let on that he found the task incredibly boring, “and I have to review some documents that will be sent to most of Ooo. I would let you do it, but I’m afraid it has to do with kingdom security.” 

Simon nodded, accepting the answer without question. 

Winter fought to keep the smile off his face.

It had nothing to do with kingdom security and everything to do with the ball he was throwing that night. It was originally going to be a quite small affair, but then his Simon came home and it spiraled in his usual giddy opulence from there.

He was known for extravagant balls, ones where connections could be made, for business or pleasure. Before the war he was never one for parties, but now it was an excuse to dress to the nines, drink, and dance with friends he had made through his years as ruler. 

“What are you smiling about now?” Simon studied his other’s face and the dopey smile that had formed. 

Winter’s brain went blank.

He thought he’d maintained his cool exterior so well.. 

“I find it hard to not smile when I’m around you my dear Simon,” Winter internally breathed a sigh of relief. It was a good save, but it was also true. 

Simon let out a single, exaggerated “ha” as a response. 

Once they were done with their coffee, they cleared off the table and got to work on their respective tasks, neither in the mood for breakfast yet. 

They worked in silence for several hours, but then a thought occurred to Winter. 

“Simon?” his voice broke through the other’s focus.

“Yes Winter?” 

“I would like for you to be my consort.” 

The words hung in the air as Simon worked through exactly what Winter was asking of him.

“You want me to marry you?” 

“Exactly, you’d be ruling by my side, and who better to be my other half, than another me!” Winter’s excitement around the idea was evident. 

“Winter, I can’t marry you.” 

The bubble popped.

“What do you mean you can’t marry me?” 

“Well,” Simon set his papers down and looked at the man sitting in front of him, “I haven’t known you very long and besides, there are so many Simons across the multiverse," he mused, "really you'd just be my... other, I guess. Not that it matters." 

Winter's brilliant smile contorted into a pained expression. He struggled to maintain his composure as his heart wrenched.

“You’ve known me your entire life!” Winter interjected, pointing out a seemingly obvious fact, trying to ignore the jab.

“Winter, you and I know very well that we’re not exactly the same,” Simon sighed, “I don’t know if I’m even ready to look at getting engaged again.” 

“Then we’ll skip the engagement! We can get married right now! I do have that authority, all I have to do is say we’re married and then draw up the paperwork.” Winter was beaming, feeling as though he solved every issue with the arrangement in a matter of seconds. 

Simon reached out and took Winter’s hand. 

“I care about you Winter, enough to travel across reality to get back here, but I’m not ready for that. I know you remember Betty and even holding the mugs she gave you, I felt like I had a ton of bricks on my chest,” Simon squeezed his king’s hands, “I’m not ready to move on like that. Not right now.” 

Winter didn’t have an answer for that.  

He was glad that the invitations he had penned had called the ball a homecoming rather than a wedding. 

“I fully understand Simon, I am sorry I sprung that on you.” He pulled his hand away slowly and got back to work on the invitations. 

Once every envelope had been filled and sent off with an ice dove, Winter stood from the table and clapped his hands. 

“Alright Simon, I’m going to leave you to finish this, while I attend to some other important matters!” Winter walked around the table and kissed the top of Simon’s head before skating smoothly out of the room. 

Simon rolled his eyes and went back to his papers.

Most of the requests were simple enough, more benches, re-icing the road to the school, small household repairs that should’ve really been handled by different authorities. Others were a bit more complicated, like a pair of neighbors fighting over a tree, each one wanting royal approval of ownership. Those were the ones he set aside for Winter to handle. 

It took him another two hours to work through the full stack, only taking a brief break to refill his coffee. 

Once finished, he stretched before making his way out of the throne room. 

At the door, he found a note in Winter’s scrawling handwriting. 

Dearest Simon,

Once you are finished for the day, please go to my chambers immediately and change, then come to the ballroom.

Yours, Winter

Simon shook his head, but headed to Winter’s bedroom nonetheless.

He knocked once before entering.

It never failed to impress Simon, how warm Winter managed to make a room made almost entirely of ice. There were blankets and pillows covering the bed, more than anyone could possibly use, a rug so plush you could feel the stress melt away when you touched it, and an incredible number of candles for someone who lives in a castle of ice. 

What drew Simon’s attention the most was the black suit bag hanging from a door connected to the bedroom. 

He figured it was for him, so he pulled it down and carefully laid it on the bed before opening it. 

“You have got to be kidding me…” Simon muttered to himself as he stared at the suit. 

It was royal blue with crystalline snowflakes detailing the jacket and pants, the shirt white with ruffles around the neck and breast. 

Simon pinched the bridge of his nose, debating showing up to the ballroom in his usual tweed, before changing clothes.

At the bottom of the bag sat a shimmering addition to the outfit, a snowflake brooch. 

He smiled to himself and clipped the final piece of his outfit to his lapel. 

He didn’t have a mirror to check his reflection, so he had to assume he looked put together enough. 

Simon could hear the music before he entered the ballroom; in fact, by the time he entered the hallway he could feel the bass of whatever was playing deep in his bones. 

He didn’t want to go in. 

Simon hated parties. 

More specifically, he hated the overwhelming noise that made it impossible to hear anyone below a scream. He hated how they always devolved into a drunken disarray, or worse, awkward silences. In the past his only respite was a quiet corner and the company of the host's dog or cat.

There were no dogs or cats in there. 

Simon braced himself before opening the doors. 

It was nothing like what he expected.

The music wasn’t actually loud, nor was it thumping. It was orchestral. 

There were plenty of people he did recognize in attendance, Wild Berry Princess, Muscle Princess, Slime and Hotdog Princess, they were all in the crowd formed around Winter, who was twirling a princess who seemed to be made of ice cream. 

There were even more people he didn’t recognize, it seemed as if the room was packed, but far from claustrophobic.

He took one step into the room and the music stopped. 

Winter looked up and caught Simon’s eye before breaking into a huge grin. 

He swept his hands through the air and a large ice glass and spoon formed in the air, connected with a resonating ting, then exploded into a sprinkling of snow. 

Everyone gasped with delight at the display, before quieting down and looking towards the king. 

“I want to thank everyone for attending,” his voice carried clearly through the large room, without the assistance of a microphone, “Tonight is a celebration of the highest order!”

He motioned for Simon to come forward.

Simon simply wished he could melt into the floor. 

Nevertheless, he sheepishly walked forward, doing his best not to slide on the ever slick floor, until he was standing at Winter’s side. 

“Tonight, we welcome home Dr. Simon Petrikov, the best advisor the Winter kingdom will ever know!”

Everyone clapped and cheered. 

It felt like something out of a dream, or in his case, a nightmare. 

Winter put an arm around Simon and pulled him into a tight side hug. 

“Enjoy yourself Simon, get to know everyone,” he spoke softly, before speaking to the crowd again, “Now, eat, drink, and dance to your heart’s content!” 

Winter let go of Simon as the music started again. 

Simon made a beeline to the punch bowl before he could get sucked into the madness that surrounded Winter. 

He seemed to relax when he was further from the crowd, milling about the drinks with the other guests, but didn’t necessarily enjoy the scene. 

He found himself zoning out, watching Winter begin to dance with Muscle Princess.

Simon was snapped out of his thoughts when his back hit another person, he didn’t even realize he was backing up. 

“Princess, I am so sorry,” Simon began before turning to face whoever he had bumped into.

She laughed.

“It’s alright, accidents happen,” she dabbed at the small wet stain on her white jacket, “Not a princess though.”

“Doctor Princess?” Simon couldn’t believe his luck, running into someone he actually knew; well, knew back in his world.

“Have we met?” She tilted her head to the side to accent her confusion.

“Uh…no, I don’t believe we have…I’m Dr. Petrikov, but you can always call me Simon.” 

The doctor laughed at his bashfulness. 

“Alright, Simon, how’re you enjoying your party?”

He rolled his eyes, briefly turning his attention back to Winter,  now dancing with Hotdog princess, who was laughing gleefully.

“I’m not really one for parties, but Winter seems to be having the time of his life,” Simon sighed before pouring himself some of the punch.

“Winter…oh, the king! Yeah, he throws these at least once a month,” She handed her cup to Simon, who dutifully refilled it, “At least this time there’s a reason to celebrate.” She took her cup from him and took a long sip. 

“A reason to celebrate?” He laughed and shook his head, “I’m sure he wouldn’t do this if it had been anyone else.

“He threw a three day gala when he created the ice scouts.” 

“You’re kidding?” Simon laughed again. He knew Winter had a propensity for dramatics, but that was a lot for even him. 

They stood like that, laughing for a few minutes.

“You know, I’m not even a princess,” Doctor Princess wiped a tear from her eye, still laughing, “It’s just my name, but he always invites me to these. I keep coming because I don’t want to be rude.” 

Simon snorted and punch shot out his nose. 

They were silent, both frozen in shock. 

Then they started laughing even harder than before, gasping for air as they cackled at the absurdity of the whole situation. 

A not princess and a not party-person, standing in a party full of royalty, now both covered in punch. 

Simon turned back to the table to grab them napkins when he saw it. 

Winter was slow dancing with a tall man, letting him lead them across the floor. 

Simon’s heart dropped as the man dipped Winter, his white hair brushing the ground. 

If he had his eyes open, he would’ve seen the devastation on Simon’s face.

He turned away from the dance floor and handed Doctor Princess the napkins before exiting the ballroom. 

He didn’t walk far, he just needed out of the room. 

How could he, no, how dare he? Simon’s thoughts were racing, He asks you to marry him this morning, and now he’s whoring himself out to half of Ooo. Maybe it was a good thing to say no, because if this is what Winter thinks loyalty is, he’s fucking insane.

Winter finished dancing with the man, still unsure who he was. 

He scanned the room and found Simon’s place by the punch bowl empty. 

Fearing the worst, he excused himself and made his way to the drinks and found Doctor Princess still dabbing punch off her jacket. 

“Princess, would you happen to know where my advisor went?” He kept his voice calm, but he was seconds away from making a scene.

“Oh, Simon? I think he stepped into the hallway to get some air. He seemed pretty upset when he left,” She didn’t look up from her jacket.

“Thank you for your help Princess,” He was already walking away, calling over his shoulder to her, “I’ll be back to the party shortly, please enjoy yourself!” 

“I’m still not a princess, but thanks.” She shook her head. 

He opened the doors and missed hitting Simon by inches.

“Simon, what on earth are you doing out here sulking, this whole party is for you,” Winter put a hand on his hip, studying the scene before him.

Simon was staring him down, fruit punch staining the ruffles of his shirt. 

“Are you serious Winter?” Simon huffed, venom dripping from his words, “You’re going to question me about sulking when you’re off gallivanting with half the royals in Ooo?”

Winter held up his hands defensively. 

“First of all, I don’t understand what you think I was doing, I was just dancing with my friends,” He took a breath, trying to keep his voice calm, “Second of all, why are you so worried about me dancing with others?”

Simon felt all the blood rush to his face.

“Oh you know damn well why I’m upset,” he all but hissed.

Winter had to stifle a smile, enjoying seeing Simon this riled up.

“Do I?”

“Oh, I think you do,” Simon backed Winter against the wall nearest him, “I think you know exactly why I’m upset.” His voice had gone cold.

“You’re not allowed to be jealous Simon,” Winter said dismissively, ignoring the cold on his back, “You’re the one who rejected my proposal.”

Simon thought he was going to pop a blood vessel.

“Winter, of course I said no, I’ve been here for what, a month?”

“Three and a half weeks, but who’s counting.”

“It doesn’t matter how long I’ve been here, or what we are,” Simon’s voice had dropped and was suddenly softer, “I thought we were still…”

Winter frowned.

“Simon, we are. No matter what we call each other.” Winter’s smirk fell, the snide tone gone. 

Both men took a breath and Simon looked across Winter’s face.

“That means you belong to me, and you’ve still been out there dancing with every person who tickles your fancy?” His voice held a different quality. Still low and threatening, but without the anger. 

“I can’t leave my guests unentertained.” Winter mused.

Simon smiled.

“Then let’s entertain them, shall we?” Simon took Winter’s hand and pulled him back into the ballroom.

The music picked up in tempo, adjusting from a waltz to a tango, Winter’s personal favorite. 

Simon let the king lead as they pulled the attention of the crowd, but the ballroom could have been empty and neither would have been the wiser.

“Is this entertaining enough your majesty?” Simon whispered as Winter pulled him close.

“No, but this will be,” Winter laughed as he turned his face, kissing Simon hard. 

[duncangabi]

WHERE ARE OUR GRADUATES GOING?

UPNG Chancellor Robert Igara with my daughter Genesis Ketan at the 2024 UPNG Graduation By Dr Joseph Ketan We are graduating thousands of students each year. Do you know where they are going after the graduation celebrations? I recently had a chat with UPNG Chancellor Robert Igara, UOG Vice Chancellor Dr Teng Waninga and IBS Chancellor Gabriel Pepson on this question. Some universities have…

[nerdie-faerie]

I love that doctor who's approach to ghosts is 'after everything you've seen you're worried about ghosts?' like that's exactly why you should consider ghosts

[smolestboop]

settling down for the night

[handkinkbis]

My desperate attempt to slow down these gifs enough so we can see what's actually happening in them.

Episode 13-16 speculation after the cut.

Hongjo sees flashbacks of herself as Aengcho trapped in a well with spells securing her prison. It's nighttime and Mujin has come to her aid. Did Na Jungbeom's (Creepy Gardener's) past self trap her in there after attacking her? He practices black magic/the darker side of shamanism, so he would have the skill and probably the motive (to stop his love interest (?) from escaping). Has he cursed Aengcho with something?

Aengcho exits a cabin wearing the same outfit with the same wounds on her face, presumably the next morning. She looks devastated/in pain. Is Mujin in the cabin? Did Aengcho run away from Mujin? Or did they agree to meet later? Is she holding something (other than her injuries)?

Eunwol: "You already know. Before your life ends, nothing ends." Either her own curse or a spell she has cast will not end before she dies.

Mujin follows with a look of resolve and a new wound on his face that wasn't there in the well scene. He looks like he's been crying for some time, or like he's stayed up all night.

Mujin catches up to Aengcho. We know he kills her soon after and "the karma" from this murder will curse his family line.

Things we know about Aengcho:

Aengcho was a reincarnation without a name until Mujin named her after the flower, primrose.

Presumably Aengcho has been reborn at least once before, as has Eunwol.

Aengcho could see the future of others, but not her own.

She was carried to an elderly shaman woman's house as a child, the shaman possibly being present day Eunwol. Perhaps Aengcho's parents were killed by the same illness that made her sick?

Aengcho was a lower level shaman who developed a "new skill" in adulthood. Hong Jo in present day has been using spells from Aengcho's spell book successfully (love spell, fair skin spell, disease curing spell, others?), so she retains her shaman skills.

Things we know about Mujin:

Mujin was their town's governor's son, so from a wealthy upper class family.

He may have taken the state exam to become a (legal?) scholar out of his father's wish/command, although he talked about joining the military and was told (or lied to) by Aengcho that he would "work his way up" there. Mujin took the military service exam and served the king according to Shin Yu. (ep 7).

Was Mujin betrothed to someone else in the past, like present day Shin Yu was?

Mujin was either the person to bury Aengcho's spell books underneath the shrine at Mount Onju, or Aengcho told him where they were buried. After killing Aengcho he requested in a note or a will that his family preserve the shrine for generations (so that Hong Jo could find the spell books in the future).

Mujin asked Aengcho to run away with him at the fireworks bridge, so that they could be together.

One other person was supposed to remember the past along with Eunwol, Shin Yu and Hong Jo. Presumably that's Na Jungbeom, the modern day gardener. Na Jungbeom left a love destruction spell (the doll) by the Mount Onju shrine in present day. He was seeking to destroy his love for Hong Jo (her stolen pyjamas) and to curse Shin Yu for dating her. In an earlier episode he claims to have drunk Hong Jo's love spell water, so he might be under Hong Jo's spell. He cursed Shin Yu again with the help of Nayeon who delivered a plant with a spell into Shin Yu's office. After that Shin Yu could feel Aengcho's hand again and Shin Yu collapsed in the elevator.

Eunwol mentioned in episode 8 that there was an honest and strong man by Hong Jo's side who was a reincarnation of a eunuch. Past life Hong Jo had tried falling in love with the eunuch after she couldn't be together with the king (again, class differences). The eunuch could be a reference to Jaekyung, who doesn't seem to remember his past lifes.

Will the two shamans face off in a future episode? What was Aengcho's new skill? Possession?

What's clear is that everything up until now has been kismet, including Hong Jo's transferral to the park department allowing her to meet Shin Yu, and Shin Yu favoring his left hand due to his curse leading him to drinking Hong Jo's love potion. It's been unavoidable. They cannot go against their destiny together.

[thats-just-mx]

Mutuals, I'm bored. Can we just start asking each other random questions about our DWU sonas?

To start, let's say your sona accidentally died, what happened? Answers may be as silly as you please.

Mx had gathered some vitamins, looted an energy drink off a corpse, borrowed Jeff's blender, challenged Seek to a chase, and uneventfully face-plants and dies right before the last door.

[askdwoostablook]

[garkgatiss]

i'm seeing speculation that The Devil's Chord was originally slated for the slot right before the two-part finale (explaining why it's June/July), but has that been confirmed?

[caluski]

RUBBLE????????? my na niego mówimy bibul

[haemosexuality]

oh my god its sunday we got fucking. presidential elections in a few hours

[moronic-validity]

The Wish

Once again, only 18+ bc the rest of the series is!

As always, a huge thank you to my beta readers/editors @stickyarbiterwombat and @yaoibrainworms!!!! I literally couldn't do this without y'all <3

This fic is actually the first in the DWU series! Hope you enjoy!!!!!

Simon drummed his fingers anxiously on the bar. He asked Finn to meet him there to discuss something, a major life change, for lack of better words. 

“Hey Simon, what’s up?” Finn’s voice shook the older man from his thoughts.

He jumped. 

“Oh, hey Finn, I didn’t even hear you come in,” Simon turned to face the boy, no man. It had been a lifetime ago that Finn was a boy. 

“Yeah, I’ve been working on sneaking, I think I’m getting pretty good at it!” He punctuated the thought with a booming laugh.

Simon smiled to himself.

“So, what’s on your mind, you seemed pretty nervous on the phone,” Finn sat down next to him and put a hand on his shoulder.

“Well, I’m looking at moving,” Simon started, trying to find a way to explain what was going on in his head, “but I don’t think I’d be able to see you again.”

Finn laughed again.

“Good on you! I know you haven’t felt at home in the human city for a long time,” he congratulated before continuing, “But I don’t think there’s a place in Ooo you could move to where I wouldn’t be able to visit you!”

“Finn, I won’t be in Ooo anymore.”

The younger man raised an eyebrow, trying to figure out where he could be going that wasn’t in Ooo.

“You know I can find a way to Mars, right?”

“Finn, you know there’s an entire multiverse, with all these different possibilities…” he began to trail off, looking to Finn’s face for a reaction of any kind, “Well, I found one that I really felt at home in.”

“I’m guessing Betty is there?” Finn nodded sagely. 

“No, there’s no Betty.” 

“Then why are you leaving?” 

Simon cleared his throat, attempting to find a way to explain what all happened on his adventures with Fionna and Cake.

“I met someone, he and I have so much but also nothing in common and..and..and,”  he found himself almost growing frantic, repeating his words, “I need to go back for him and make things right.”

Finn rested a hand on Simon’s shoulder. 

“You know, sometimes I remember my wife and kids and think I should try to go and check on them, but I think I actually died in that world, so I probably shouldn’t go back.” 

Simon stared at him.

“Your what?”

“Oh yeah, I fell into a pillow world, met wonderful girl and settled down.”

“When was this?”

“Oh, I was probably thirteen or so, spent a whole afternoon there!” Finn smiled fondly, remembering the days of his youth.

They sat like that for a minute, both simultaneously completely understanding the other and not understanding at all.

“Have you talked to Marceline about any of this?” Finn said, finally breaking the comfortable silence between them.

“I don’t know if I can, I’ve already abandoned her before…” Simon’s chest hurt every time he thought about telling her. 

“I think you’d regret not talking to her.” Finn’s voice was careful, not worried of overstepping, but not wanting to push any buttons. 

Simon pressed his hands to his temples and dragged them down his face before bringing them back up and rubbing his eyes.

He didn’t think much as he pulled out his phone and clicked her contact.

She answered on the first ring. 

“Hey Simon!” She answered cheerfully.

Simon’s voice caught in his throat and he looked over to Finn, who gave him a thumbs up.

“Hey Marcy, what’re you up to?” 

“Oh, nothing much, Peebs just went home so I’m chillin.” Marceline sounded bored, not disinterested, just bored.

“Marceline…” Simon started, unsure of what to say.

Marcy sat up straight. He rarely used her full name. 

“Simon, is everything okay?”

“Um..yeah. Everything is okay…” he trailed off again, “I really need to talk to you about something. Something important.”

She worried now.

“Marcy, I’m leaving. Forever, I think.”

Simon didn’t have time to continue his thoughts before Marceline stormed into the bar. 

“What do you mean forever?!” She yelled into the phone and his face.

The feedback from his phone made him cringe. He hung up the phone and looked at the girl he took care of for so long. 

“Hi Marcy!” Finn waved, happy to see his longtime friend. 

Marceline turned to him and nodded before turning her attention back to Simon.

“Simon, what do you mean forever; I just got you back and now you’re leaving again?” She had to hold herself back from shoving him out of frustration. 

“It’s really complicated,” he started again.

“Then uncomplicate it!” She raised her voice.

“Well, I met someone. In a distant land. He…died. And I need to leave and make things right and I can’t do that if I’m here.”

Simon’s words hung in the air. Finn and Marceline shared a look before turning their attention back to him. 

“Simon…” Finn spoke first, “why are you going backif he’s dead?”

Simon put his head in his hands.

“Listen, if what I’m going to do doesn’t work, I’ll be back here before you guys even realize I’m gone.”

“But if it does…” Marceline started.

“I won’t ever be back,” Simon confirmed. 

She was conflicted. She didn’t want to lose the man who had been her father but she also understood wanting to fix things. She wanted to tell him to not go, to not leave her again; but she knew if he stayed, he’d wind up regretting it. 

“You should do it.” She said firmly, before hugging Simon, “But you better call me from wherever you’re going.”

“Are you sure?” 

Marceline sniffled and let out a small laugh.

“No, but I don’t want you to spend your life wondering what could have happened,” another sniffle, “so don’t ask me if I’m sure again, I’ll change my mind.”

Simon stood and hugged her back, squeezing her tight. Finn let them have their moment before embracing both of them.

“I’m going to miss this,” Simon mumbled, his voice muffled from the hug.

“We’re going to miss you too old man,” Marceline was crying now, they all were. 

Simon left the bar and walked home alone, taking his time. He tried to enjoy what would hopefully be his last walk through the city. 

His plan was simple enough. 

He was just going to get Prismo’s attention and then make a wish.

Once home, he found getting Prismo’s attention much harder than he had anticipated. He didn’t have the time to find the enchiridion or get the jewel from every princess’s crown. He tried all types of chants, he tried writing notes addressed to the being. Nothing seemed to work.

He looked to his clock and saw that he had been working at this for hours. 

Simon threw his arms up in frustration and began kicking his wall, screaming the whole time.

“Prismo!” He yelled, “I know you can hear me, now help me!” he began cussing until it fell into indecipherable rambling. 

Prismo finally beamed him into the time room. 

“Simon, my main man, what is up?” He sounded almost groggy. 

He spun around to face the being on the wall. 

“I know damn well you weren’t sleeping, why weren’t you answering me?” Simon pointed aggressively, glaring at Prismo. 

“I was busy watching Fionna’s world, she’s doing some really cool stuff. Wanna see?” Prismo began to change the channel back to the other version of Ooo. 

Simon began to protest, before turning around to see Fionna in her apartment, watching Cheers. 

“Prismo, how long has she been doing this?” 

“The last seven hours. Incredible, right?”

They watched for a minute before Simon turned back around.

“Prismo, I need to make a wish.” 

Prismo muted the screen.

“You know I can’t bring Betty back, we’ve talked about this.” He had told Simon that countless times, but it never got easier.

“I know, there are limits to your powers,” Simon waved him off, “but are you able to bring people back that didn’t turn into Gods of chaos?”

Prismo thought about it for a moment. 

“I mean, yeah, I guess I could, but you’d have to be mega specific dude,” 

“How specific?” The gears in Simon’s head were turning.

“Like uber mega specific.” Prismo gestured with each word, making sure he got the point across.

Simon sat down next to Prismo, his back against the wall. He pulled a piece of paper out of his jacket and a pencil from behind his ear. 

He began writing.

He knew he knew he wanted to bring the Winter King back, that was the easy part; but he also wanted Princess Bubblegum, or the Candy Queen in that world, to be okay, to keep her sanity. He wanted to make sure the other Simon had no memory of dying and coming back, that he’d only remember the curse of madness brought with the crown was broken, not the powers. 

He kept writing furiously as Prismo sat and watched. 

“So…” Prismo said, drawing out the word, “You almost done there?”

“Not yet.”

“Well, do you mind if I turn Fionna and Cake back on?”

“Yes I mind, I’m trying to focus.” Simon huffed. 

“You’ve been writing for like 15 minutes dude, I think you’ve got it by now” Prismo rolled his eyes and sighed, bored out of his infinite mind. 

Simon put his pencil down and looked at the Wishmaster.

“I didn’t think I had a time limit.”

“I mean, you don’t…but you’re acting like I’m like a genie or something.” Prismo was borderline offended, even though he knew he had the ability to give people the worst version of their wish imaginable. 

Simon turned his attention back to the paper, trying to figure out if he had missed anything. 

“I’m actually ready..I think”  He couldn’t help but feel nervous that he had missed something.

“Hell yeah dude, hit me!” Prismo cheered.

“Okay,” Simon took a breath, staring at his paper, “I wish for the Winter King to be brought back to life, as he was,” he paused again.

“Can do!” Prismo said with a grin.

“But I want the curse of madness that comes with the crown to still be gone so that Princess Bubblegum can stay in her true form. And I don’t want either of them to remember the king dying, I only want for them to remember the curse being broken by Fionna’s kiss or touch or whatever.” Simon was speaking quickly, saying it all in one breath.

Prismo thought about it then nodded. 

“Yeah, I can do that too.”

“And I want to be taken to their world.”

Prismo stared at Simon.

“Simon, my guy, are you sure about that?” Prismo rubbed his chin, “If I send you there, you can’t ever go back to your Ooo. Like…Ever.” 

Simon nodded a single time. 

“I’ve thought about it, talked to Finn and Marcy, and they gave me their blessing.” His voice was soft, knowing what he’d be giving up if he left, with no guarantee of what he was leaving them for.

“Well, then I can’t stop you. Good luck with everything!” Prismo snapped and Simon was beamed away. 

Prismo sat there in the silence for a moment, thankful he had sent Scarab to go clean the pickle room. 

He turned back to the screen to see Fionna was still watching Cheers.

“She really doesn’t do much, huh?” He mused to himself. 

Prismo looked at the remote and changed the channel. 

“I think this is going to be my new favorite show.”

[diantheia]

Y'know the more I figure out Eyes' personality on my end and write Ambush more, the more glad I am that I did end up going with Seek.

As much as he's a sassy asshole in terms of personality for me, considering the shady things I already had Eyes do and the fact it is a running gag for me that Ambush greets Mooni by nearly body tackling them to the ground.

I don't want to imagine either of those two with literally any of their traits amped up to a horrific degree (and believe me when I say there's no way in hell Mooni ain't gonna acknowledge those facts later on, maybe if they finally check on Dian)

Eyes would probably demand you look at them and only them. Ambush would see you talking to another for 0.00001 seconds and come sweep you off your feet.

[bones-fly2]

Wracam do was po dwu tygodniowej przerwie!

Po 3 dniowym faście zrobiłam sobie metabolizm weekend (przez dwa dni jadłam do 1000kcal, głównie białko, jak najmniej tłuszczu i ograniczenie węgli) a potem jadłam ,,na oko,, jeden/dwa posiłki dziennie, z ograniczeniem kalorii do około 600kcal na dzień.

Z pomiarów zeszło mi 1cm w udzie i talii. Teraz będę robić 2 dniowego fasta i po nim się zważę.

A tu body check:

Chudego dnia motyli<<3

[lurking-latinist]

the alphabet is canonically in a different order in the dwu, we can cope with mavity.

[aristidetwain]

“Legends of Earth”: The 2020s “Doctor Who” Anthology Which Never Was

Something very special today. Usually, when it comes to the production history of more or less Doctor Who-related fiction, I natter about the obscure and deuterocanonical — but did you know that around Summer 2020, Emil Fortune was working on creating an anthology of Doctor Who short stories riffing on “Myths & Legends” of Earth, whose title eventually settled as Doctor Who: Legends of Earth?

Due to the poor sales with which DWU books increasingly became saddled during the Chibnall era, it was ultimately canned. Had it happened, it would have constituted a rare case of an official Doctor Who book in the ear of NuWho opening up pitching calls to first-time writers, with the point of the book having been to reach out to beginning writers from outside the UK, to write about elements of their native cultures in particular.

As another reliable source explained: “It sounded really really cool, and [Emil] was trying so hard to do it right. Reaching out to all the right people. Getting totally new voices in. It would've been amazing.”

Perhaps more pitches will become known in time; for the time being, I have only been able to track down one of the prospective writers, S. Brennan, who submitted two pitches related to Irish folklore — archived here after the cut with permission.

(I was actually meant to do this months and months ago — my heartfelt apologies to S. for letting it slip through the cracks.)

Coat of Charms

S. Brennan's first suggestion was a Sixth Doctor story riffing on St. Bridget of Kildare.

The pitch was developed further after this initial offer, with it being confirmed to Brennan that an extended-universe companion such as Evelyn unfortunately could not be used for this project, and would have to be replaced with a TV companion.

With Coat of Charms eventually proving difficult to develop into something which fit the intended tone of the book, they pushed onwards with another pitch, this one featuring an even more prominent figure from Irish folklore.

The Way of Battle

Per S. Brennan's connection, however, this pitch was never discussed further, with them assuming that the book had already been “canned” by then.

A sad end to what would have been one of the most interesting offerings of the BBC-licensed EU of the 2020s. The only silver lining is that no exclusivity contracts or NDAs had been signed with prospective writers — meaning that those lost stories can be discussed, and perhaps brought into being through some other medium, whether it be something like BF's Lost Stories range (it would certainly beat scraping through Terry Nation's drawers for first drafts) or beyond the aegis of the BBC altogether.

At any rate, if anyone reading this post has more information on Legends of Earth and related stories-that-might-have-been, please get in touch!

[thats-just-mx]

Okay, some absolute bull I've noticed from you all. So when it comes to Mooni, you're all:

"Teehee, Mooni, look at this Seek art~" "Come get your husband, mothy!" "You like yourself some slime in suits?~"

But, when it's me, suddenly it's: