jjjinkies

— 9teen. aspiring author & artist. 18+ —

[jin-doodles]

♡— about me

hi hi, call me bels, she/they, 9teen <3  you can find my (kinda very inactive) instagram @/jjjinkies and my commission info here

slowly getting my passion for drawing and writing back with the help of dnd as inspiration. i have a couple writing projects on the back-burner and am currently split three ways on two novels and a dnd world-building project ! just going with the flow and wanting to share my ideas ! hope anyone who stumbles across my lil blog enjoys :] !

[jin-doodles]

they’re gay & i loaf them ur honor <3 <3 <3  Midas (right) is my black dragonborn + tiefling abomination <3 Skullduggery (left) is my lovely @socialmediasocrates tiefling devil prince <3 

twitter - - - patreon - - - kofi - - - commissions

[jin-doodles]

what better way to kick off the fresh blog than with my darling son, the stinkiest bastard of all; Midas ! he’s a black dragonborn + tiefling because i apparently love mixing races. anyways. don’t call me out. 

twitter - - - patreon - - - kofi - - - commissions

[prettyboykatsuki-moved]

its so freeing when you realize you can literally write whatever you want 

[prettyboykatsuki-moved]

it doesnt have to be good or anything you can just write things and post them and it doesnt matter at all

[prettyboykatsuki-moved]

“your story sucks” what are you going to do? refund the money u didn’t pay? you are a bozo

[tumbwr]

[tumbwr]

[henstomper]

friendly fucking reminder that a curved sword has greater cutting power because the force of the swing is distributed across a smaller impact area. a straight sword is better for thrusting

[politicalmamaduck]

Writing about a child rapist did not make Vladimir Nabokov a child rapist.

Writing about an authoritarian theocracy did not make Margaret Atwood an authoritarian theocrat.

Writing about adultery did not make Leo Tolstoy an adulterer.

Writing about a ghost did not make Toni Morrison a ghost.

Writing about a murderer did not make Fyodor Dostoevsky a murderer.

Writing about a teenage addict did not make Isabel Allende a teenage addict.

Writing about dragons and ice zombies did not make George R.R. Martin either of those things.

Writing about rich heiresses, socially awkward bachelors, and cougar widows did not make Jane Austen any of those things.

Writing about people who can control earthquakes did not make N.K. Jemisin able to control earthquakes.

Writing about your favorite characters and/or ships in situations that you choose does not make you a bad person.

It’s a shame that in this day and age these things need to be said.

[nyarnamaitar]

Or, in short: the narrator =/ the author.

[oblakom-deactivated20200302]

You know what else is a shame? This nowadays tendency of putting on the author the responsibility of teaching their readers morality.

Authors are allowed to write morally ambiguous characters.

Authors are allowed to write downright despicable characters - and guess what they are even allowed to make despicable characters charismatic and likeble and the protagonists of their stories if they wish - because absolute monsters exist only under the bed.

It is not up to the author to spoonfeed the readers about morality and Yes I know this character did a bad thing and I am going going to show it in the story and make other characters call them out of it and– Bullshit.

The authors should be able to write what they want without having thousands of people jumping and their throats claiming to know them, their ideas and their morality based on what they write.

It’s not up to the author to teach you about what is right and what is wrong.

[theanishimori]

It’s not up to the author to teach you about what is right and what is wrong.

[biggest-gaudiest-poltergeist]

being a writer like: ok get all your ideas together and start writing!

nope, that’s too many ideas. put some ideas back. no honey that’s still too many. pick fewer. pick fewer ideas

[graceful-not]

When you buy too many ideas and they sit at the back of the fridge expiring

[lildevyl]

Or in the Storage Unit that you’re still paying to keep open for storing all the ideas then rummage through them to see which ones are still good and which ones you might need to throw out.

[biggest-gaudiest-poltergeist]

*opens my garage which is piled to the ceiling with cardboard boxes overspilling with google docs and crumbled sticky notes*

[nevinslibrary]

*slowly closes garage door and goes to read/watch something*

[galaxina-the-pyro]

(goes back to the garage eventually to grab ONE of the ideas, but it’s between a bunch of other ideas and by trying to pull said idea out everything falls down on you at once)

[meetmyescapingthoughts]

—find the word [tag game]

I've been forcibly awakened from my Tumblr Slumber by @writing-bels they're too amazing for me to pretend I forgot Tumblr exists any longer...

words - - - vicious, tattle, terror, chew

Vicious ---- > Web of Lies

“Get in the van.” the girl said, staring at the creature with something Jim could only describe as the most vicious hatred he had ever seen. She tossed something metallic at Jim that he barely managed to catch before realizing they were car keys.

“What?” he spluttered.

“Get in the van,” she repeated this time glaring at him with such intensity, Jim nearly took a step back.

“What about you? We’re not just leaving you here!”

“I can handle myself.” The girl dropped a duffle bag he hadn’t noticed before, and held up something that looked like an odd mix between a gun and a syringe. “Now take your friend and go!”

Tattle ---- > N/A

Terror (I cheated and used Terrified, sue me) ---- > Sunflower Club

The scene was so surreal it was like watching life through a filter.

One of the boys winced as he saw his distorted reflection in a window; his jaw was swollen and the cut under his eye was smeared with dried blood.

The maelstrom of blue made them look more ill and terrified than they already were.

It was like a nightmare with the gleam of a dream.

No matter where they looked, the sickening glow flooded the scene, absorbing every object.

There was no escape.

Everything was silent, or so it felt.

Chew ---- > The Not Quite Ordinary Tale of Dani Swann

Quite the checklist, she thought, sitting in her new kitchen, at her new table, chewing absentmindedly on a slice of the homemade piece of bread Mrs Romero had given her as she left the motel. Oh ! And buy groceries. She’d almost forgotten.

That was for sure quite a bit to do, mostly running around, but at least it would allow her to get to know the town. Finding your own grocery store, one you could become a regular at, was after all an important part of settling in a new town. At least Dani liked to think so. Life is made of a string of little habits and to create these habits she must get to know what surrounds her and seep into a cold sort of regularity. She’d meet new people, let her name and face be known and recognised by those who already had their nice little string of habits and maybe she would finally belong somewhere.

Tagging : @the-child-of-darkness ; @mortallynuttyqueen ; @cielnocturnes ;

Words ---- Smile; numb; dark; comfort

[caitwritesstuff]

On the hunt for Writeblrs

I don't know if it's just that I'm on at funky times, but I feel like my dash has been dead especially with NaNo season upon us

Please reblog/comment/send an ask if you are a writeblr!

OR send me your favorite writeblrs!

[caitwritesstuff]

Let's try this again:

Please reblog if you're an active writeblr that posts a lot of original content! Or just to give this a boost.

[jin-doodles]

—find the word [tag game]

thank you sm for the tag @ghost-town-story <3 !

words - - - memory, sound, embrace, lie

Memory - - - Hope for Honey

I removed my hands from my eyes and took in my surroundings. Thick, concrete slabs and rock surrounded me, metal piles twisted and snapped. Sand was soaked through with blood and clumped into hard rock formations, bodies littered the area as far as I could see. The heat permeated off of the concrete debris the further I looked, mangled corpses hanging awkwardly off of ledges or crushed beneath rubble. I did not recognize any of them, but my memory seemed to be failing me within that moment. There was nothing I remembered, I think.

Sound - - - Hope for Honey

Good question, but alas no answer. Should I call out into the abyss of sand and heat in hopes to hear a cry for help back? Maybe, but what if that sound attracted unwanted attention. I still didn’t know where I fit in with this facility, nor did I remember what the facility was. 

“Hello?” My voice was monotone. I had long surpassed terror and fear for the environment I was in. I believe my morbid curiosity simply grew in this situation, and with every passing corpse I anticipated answers. Unfortunately, no one would reply.

Embrace - - - Puppy Eyes

My father had told me when I was young to embrace my looks, that I was beautiful. When I tried to scrub my beauty marks from my skin roughly in the bathtub and came out with red raw patches all over my dad was confused. He didn’t understand how I couldn’t love the pieces of myself that reminded him of my mom. Applying bandaids and kisses to my wounds later that night, he’d tell me another fantasy of his.

Lie - - - N/A

- - -

tagging - - - @saucysquared , @socialmediasocrates , @lord-fallen , @silent-creed , @meetmyescapingthoughts 

words - - - vicious, tattle, terror, chew

[forcekenobi]

loved being like 12 years old and making an OC and saying “yeah they’re a hardened criminal. they’re deeply involved in crime. they’re in a gang” and then never elaborating on that because i didn’t know how crime worked. this is still my approach

[ghost-town-story]

Find the Word Tag

Thanks for the tag @blindthewind!

Words: mirror, clock, rose, and song.

Mirror (Nova)

Eventually, Jay pulled Basil through a doorway into what appeared to be a bathroom. All the mirrors were shattered, shining fragments littering the ground, winking up at them through a layer of dust. The room was dimly lit by a handful of flickering bulbs.

Basil raised his eyebrow at Jay. “Okay?” he said slowly.

“And that’s the last time I saw them.” Jay stared at the door as it closed behind them.

Clock (Band AU)

“Then what the fuck are you doing here?” Brian demanded.

“I don’t know!” Theo retorted. “You invited me here Bri, and I don’t know why you did—”

“Because you’re the only one I could ask!”

Theo stopped short.

“Because Aiden’s got a ticking clock on time with his boyfriend, and Nessa and Jack and Sam are across the fucking country, and I—” Brian broke off with a shuddering gasp, doubling over suddenly. “And I hate being alone but it’s fine most of the time until everybody leaves to go home and then it’s just a shot to the face that I’m fucking alone. So don’t get on my case for not wanting to be sober when it’s the only way to fucking distract myself.”

Rose (Astral, featuring both the character and the flower lol)

Aiden kept his eyes on Rose as she unfastened a chain from around her neck. “One of the last times we met the princess’s guardian, he gave us this.”

Aiden held out his hand, and Rose gently deposited the necklace there for him to examine.

“He said that, when we’re ready to fight Maddox and need the princess, that this necklace will call them.”

Aiden moved the chain to examine the pendant. It looked like it was made out of stained glass, a dusty pink rose set against a blue sky and surrounded by gold.

Song (Stars)

“I’m going to let go now,” Antonio says, “but keep your eyes closed, okay? It’s just for a second.”

“What are you doing?” I ask, trying to ignore how my breath hitches when he releases my hand.

“A surprise,” Antonio replies in a sing-song voice. “Okay, ready. Vamos.”

For this one, I’ll tag @xiyais, @writing-bels, @saucysquared, @writinglyra, @willowgold and anybody else who wants to. Your words are memory, sound, embrace, and lie.

[itsapmseymour]

Me when I give out fun facts about my characters:

[socialmediasocrates]

16k baby! In honor of Zel finally appearing in the fucking book, have some Zel content from WtSS. 

Taglist and ID under the cut:

Keep reading

[caffeinatedrogue]

having ocs is so fun tho. It’s like playing with barbie dolls except we’re hallucinating it all vividly in our heads and everybody is emotionally scarred

[caffeinatedrogue]

after carefully reading the notes I can safely say that most of us are just continuing the childhood tradition of treating our dolls in ways that could easily be considered violations of the Geneva Conventions

[thewebranger]

One man’s war crime is another man’s CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT

[socialmediasocrates]

WtSS excerpts for nano to celebrate 8k!

Transcripts and tags under the cut.

Keep reading