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Jagodzianka
Millennial. This is an everything blog but is probably mostly Nimona and The Owl House. I write fanfic as Jagodzianka.
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"A wonderful day for a picnic, Eh Pip? Not a cloud in sight."
So this is literally, i am being 100% literal, the first time I've drawn in...~3 years? Might as well draw the Wittebros.
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Wake up, babe, new religion just dropped
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fuck the cat king edwin
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i just had a realization about the fact that most historical cowboys were black or brown not white, and the fact that we refer to them as cowboys not cowmen when "boy" was long used as a degrading term against black men
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what if I was slowly dying of internal bleeding and hypothermia and you stayed with me and read to me. Because you know I'm dying and you don't want me to be alone and scared (like you were). And what if I chose You, instead of heaven?
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Listen I get the Charles/Edwin of it all but imagine a world where Edwin stays with the Cat King and people roll up looking for the Cat King and find a posh British teenager sitting on that chair calmly stroking a cat in his lap and it's like, okay. Sure. They can buy the Cat King being British. Kinda weird he's being British in a small town in the United States, but like, whatever, weirder things have happened. And so they start their negotiations or whatever they're there for and they're fully addressing Edwin who has a smug little smirk the whole time until he interrupts them to say, actually, he's not the Cat King. And then the previously ignored cat leaps off his lap and transforms right in front of them into the real Cat King.
Are you seeing the vision? Are you seeing it?
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Goldenheart Week 2024 Prompts
Each day has four prompt options to choose from: a "Goldenheart" prompt, a "Blackloin" prompt, an AU, and a quote from the movie or comic. There are also five alternative prompts if you are not inspired by any of the options for a given day.
All kinds of fanworks are welcome: digital art, traditional art, 100 word drabbles, ficlets, longer fics, poems, embroidery, cosplay, music, gif sets, vids, etc.
Day 1/June 27: Firsts (meeting, kiss, "I love you," etc) | Memory | Commoner Ballister AU (Ballister doesn't become a knight)
“You always remember things as better than they were.” / “And YOU always remember them as WORSE.”
Day 2/June 28: Forgiveness | Apologies | Prince Ballister AU (Queen Valerin makes Ballister her heir instead of a knight)
“Ballister, wait — if I don't make it out, I need to tell you—" / "We can't do this now. Just...just promise me you won't get yourself killed."
Day 3/June 29: Pride | Weakness | Magical Creature AU (Mermaids, Vampires, Werewolves, Shapeshifters, etc)
“They’re going to love you. Like I do."
Day 4/June 30: Friends | Jealousy | Gay Dads AU
“She’s not just a creature. She’s my friend. Someone I love is going to try and kill her. And she’s going to kill him."
Day 5/July 1: Disability | Regret | Modern AU
“I wish — we could just go back. I wish things could be how they were."
Day 6/July 2: Trust | Scars | Everything is Fine/Science Mom AU
“Then you never knew me at all."
Day 7/July 3: Healing | Pain | Role Swap AU
"Why can't you just leave me alone?" / "Because I love you!"
Alt Prompts: Beyond the Wall | “I love you” | Family | AU
“Arm-chopping is not a love language!”
So that we can find your posts and reblog them during Goldenheart Week, please tag Tumblr posts with: #goldenheart week 2024, #day [x] or #alt prompt, #prompt name, #goldenheart, #nimona. Additional tags for fanwork type are also welcome (#nimona fanfic, #nimona cosplay, #nimona fanart, etc.). Please also be sure to tag for content triggers (#suicide, #suicidal ideation, #self harm, etc.).
Check out the FAQ for more details and feel free to send asks if you have any questions!
#got this up later than I hoped and *still* had to edit the post multiple times#(forgot the links to ND Stevenson's AUs and then found a typo)#anyways#goldenheart week 2024#goldenheart#blackloin#nimona#nimona movie#nimona webcomic#nimona graphic novel#nimona fanart#nimona fanfic#ambrosius x ballister#ballister x ambrosius#ambrosius goldenloin#ballister blackheart#ballister boldheart
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Laios saying he's stronger and better organized than Shuro because he eats 3 meals every day and sleeps properly is probably one of the most encouraging things a fictional character has ever said to me
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Charles “We’ve got literally forever to figure out the rest means” Rowland
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Cooking for the raeda shippers, here’s ya food!! 💖✨
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Edwin, to Charles, on the way back from hell: I'm in love with you
Maxine: 🧍
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cant stop thinking abt ursula k. le guin’s essay abt the carrier bag theory….. she’s like, maybe the first human tool was not a weapon, but rather something that holds, a bag, a pouch, a vessel, something for gathering and storing and sharing. let’s shift the narrative of humanity from that of violence to that of safekeeping. and i’m like
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Okay, buckle up buckaroos, because today I met an honest-to-goodness cryptid.
I was out running errands and I made a stop at Intimate Books (…for a friend), and on my way out I realized that the bookshop next door was open.
This bookshop has existed for more than a hundred years, and in all my life it has NEVER BEEN OPEN. I mean, I assume it has to be open sometimes, but never at any normal, reasonable hour. Everyone says it’s a front for the mob or something.
So what do you do when the weird mafia bookshop is open? You go the fuck inside.
The first thing I noticed was the smell. You know that smell when you accidentally leave your towel on the bathroom floor all day and you come back to that mildew funk? The shop smelled like that times a thousand. I expected to see stuff growing on the walls, but the books were pristine. We’re talking first editions, rare editions, weird Bibles and books inscribed to really famous dead people. Librarians would weep for the chance to accession this place. In the first two minutes I found a signed copy of The Crucible and what I think was a first edition of Blake’s Book of Thel.
Then a clerk showed up out of nowhere—honestly nowhere. He looked EXACTLY like a bookseller should look, kind of fluffy and bewildered and really, really gay.
“Are you lost?” was the first thing he said to me.
“Nope. Just browsing, thanks.”
“Browsing, I see. Erm. How do you feel about snakes?” he asked. And without waiting for me to answer, he just walked away and vanished around a shelf.
I figured it was a metaphor, or a code phrase for the mafia. Until I turned a corner like ten minutes later and found a little reading nook. It was really pretty, although I feel like that particular window should have been on an interior wall? Anyway, curled up in an armchair in a patch of sunlight was the biggest fuck-off black snake I have ever seen.
Like, I don’t mind snakes in general. But in their normal context, right? Outside. On the ground. Not six feet long and sitting on a threadbare velvet armchair like it owns the place.
I was about to turn around and leave, but I saw a gorgeous first-edition copy of Leaves of Grass on a shelf, a little too close to the snake for comfort. But I had never needed anything so badly in my life.
So I went back to the counter to buy it, but the clerk was nowhere to be found.
While I was waiting, I noticed a collection of pictures hanging on the wall behind the counter, dating back to the very dawn of photography. A couple were of this rock-star looking guy from the 70s that I should probably have recognized, but there were authors and landscapes and stuff, too. There was even an old tintype portrait of Oscar freaking Wilde, sitting in this very shop with a guy that I would ACTUALLY SWEAR was the clerk from before. Like, I know my family all has the same nose, but this guy had the same everything.
After approximately one year of waiting, the clerk came back out to the desk. By now I’ve realized that he’s too bad at his job to be anything but the owner of the shop.
“I saw your snake,” I told him.
“Did you? Was he behaving himself?”
“He was sleeping.”
“Yes, he enjoys that.”
“Does he just stay out in the open like that? What if he gets out?”
He shrugged and smiled. “He always comes home again, the dear boy.”
Right, a homing snake. That’s totally normal.
Then he cleared his throat and asked, in a weirdly reluctant voice, if I was going to buy the Whitman.
“Yes, please,” I told him. “I saw it on a shelf by the snake, and it was just too tempting.”
He sighed. “Oh, yes, I expect it was.”
When I started to hand him my card, he went all fluttery and said that they didn’t take cards.
All right, fine. I had some cash on me, but I told him that he’d sell a lot more books if he got a Square or something.
He got this scandalized look on his face and went, “Why would I want to do that?”
Oookay. I handed over the cash and he popped open the ancient till and started making change.
In shillings. Shillings! I swear to god I saw Queen Anne’s face on one of them. The silver value of the coins was probably as much as I paid for the book.
But I had to have proof that this happened—at that point, all I had was a book in a plain brown wrapper, not appreciably different from what I bought next door. So I asked him for a receipt.
He looked delighted and wrote one up for me.
By hand.
With a fountain pen.
And that’s the story of how I met a bookseller cryptid and his pet snake.
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