#dyde21

[dyde21]

Chapters: 3/? Fandom: RWBY Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Jaune Arc & Melanie Malachite, Jaune Arc & Miltiades Malachite, Jaune Arc & Roman Torchwick, Jaune Arc & Neopolitan, Jaune Arc & Ruby Rose, Jaune Arc & Weiss Schnee, Jaune Arc & Blake Belladonna, Jaune Arc & Yang Xiao Long, Jaune Arc & Pyrrha Nikos, Jaune Arc & Nora Valkyrie, Jaune Arc & Lie Ren Characters: Jaune Arc, Miltiades Malachite, Melanie Malachite, Roman Torchwick, Ruby Rose (RWBY), Weiss Schnee, Blake Belladonna, Yang Xiao Long, Pyrrha Nikos, Nora Valkyrie, Lie Ren Additional Tags: Jaune fails to get into Beacon, Makes do with what he can, He has both the worst and best luck at the same time, Not a Harem, Not an OP!Jaune fic either, A series of unfortunate events - Freeform, and a couple of fortunate ones, more characters to be added later on - Freeform Summary:

Jaune Arc's brilliant and foolproof plan to cheat his way into beacon failed, but through an act of Mercy was given one last chance to try again in a year. Now with only a year to figure out how to actually get in legitimately, and with a massive debt to pay off thanks to his poor judgement, he has to figure out how to get his feet under him and he ends up finding help from people who only bring more trouble. Surely working for a gang in a cafe and training with an assassin couldn't go wrong. Jaune finally met the rest of JNPR and had his first training session with Neo!

[decaffeinatedparadisemaker]

Last line tag

Rules: In a new post, show the last line you wrote and tag as many people as there are words.

Tagged by @abcd-em (technically; I saw your post and I guess that counts?)

She laughed. “And what about it?”

@anarchyduck @kitausuret @demigod-of-the-agni @evil-pony @dyde21 @pepperminttegan

(if you've already been tagged by someone else please ignore)

[anarchyduck]

WIP Tag Game

Rules are to post the last line you've written, or the wip of what you last drew! Then, tag the number of people as there are words in that line. That's a soft rule.

Tagged by: @abc2411 Thank you <3 <3

It felt like waking from a nightmare or perhaps waking to a nightmare.

Tagging: @jolinarjackson, @mysterycyclone, @dyde21, @elvenbeard, @jawsandbones and anyone else who wants to do this!

[spiderman-homecomeme]

WIP game: legs! Taking a guess here.

ooo a good guess!

from an upcoming one shot!

Neither of them are sure how it happens; how she’s ended up pressed against the door inside of one of the many guest rooms in Flash’s house, his knee slotted between her legs, his hands greedy as they explore her body, roughly tangling and twisting in the fabric of her dress as he reels her in impossibly closer.

WIP guessing game!

[azroazizah]

I WILL BREAK QUARANTINE TO FIGHT YOUR ASS OVER THAT LAST COMIC. HOW DARE YOU DRAW (incredible) SAD CONTENT! I WILL MESS YOU UP! D:<

[insert an innocent smile here]

[bipercabeth]

That crocodile ask made me think of Percy being only half able to understand amphibians. Like, they have a heavy accent to him or mix in worlds from a different "language". I love the idea of Annabeth asking why Percy is so frustrated only to have him explain that he can't figure out how to tell the frog where the nearest lake is because it isn't understanding when he's trying to use McDonalds as a reference but that word doesn't translate well. Percy just madly gesturing a big M to a frog.

i shouldn’t have laughed at this as hard as i did but i fully subscribe to this

[nikosarc]

What actually happened is he wanted a haircut amd Nora was like "I can do it!" But she messed up one side and had to go a little shorter to compensate, then screwed up again. Then threatened anyone who dared to tell him.

IM DYING AT THE IMAGE OF JAUNE WALKIN AROUND THINKIN HE LOOKS GOOD WHILE HIS FRIENDS ARE JUST LIKE “YEAH MATE UR HAIR’S FIRE” LMAO

[bananannabeth]

WE JUST LIKE MET BUT IM SO HYPED YOURE GETTING MARRIED. I LIVE FOR CUTE ROMANCE STUFF LIKE THAT OMG! THANK YOU FOR GETTING MARRIED SDKJLFHLKDSJF Congrats though! I'm super happy for yoU!!

thank youuuuu!!!!!!

[anxiouspineapples]

dyde21 ha respondido a tu publicación: gonna try to sit down and draw today! suggestions...

I mean it’s a classic, but ME Annabeth? =P

[pjoseries]

Ahhh, your floods of percabeth almost make me want to write more for them! They always give me so many feelings!

AHHH OMG !!! pls do 🥺they’re rly so precious i love them !!!

[botls]

Thank you for the attention on the volleyball!Annabeth story! A few different people like that AU and it kind of inspired me to maybe draw a painting of her spiking... anyway, thanks again and if you have any story requests feel free to send them my way!

youre welcome i loved it!! please send the painting my way if you ever do it!

[dyde21]

Chapters: 2/? Fandom: RWBY Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Jaune Arc & Melanie Malachite, Jaune Arc & Miltiades Malachite, Jaune Arc & Roman Torchwick, Jaune Arc & Neopolitan, Jaune Arc & Ruby Rose, Jaune Arc & Weiss Schnee, Jaune Arc & Blake Belladonna, Jaune Arc & Yang Xiao Long Characters: Jaune Arc, Miltiades Malachite, Melanie Malachite, Roman Torchwick, Ruby Rose (RWBY), Weiss Schnee, Blake Belladonna, Yang Xiao Long, Pyrrha Nikos, Nora Valkyrie, Lie Ren Additional Tags: Jaune fails to get into Beacon, Makes do with what he can, He has both the worst and best luck at the same time, Not a Harem, Not an OP!Jaune fic either, A series of unfortunate events - Freeform, and a couple of fortunate ones, more characters to be added later on - Freeform Summary:

Jaune Arc's brilliant and foolproof plan to cheat his way into beacon failed, but through an act of Mercy was given one last chance to try again in a year. Now with only a year to figure out how to actually get in legitimately, and with a massive debt to pay off thanks to his poor judgement, he has to figure out how to get his feet under him and he ends up finding help from people who only bring more trouble. Surely working for a gang in a cafe and training with an assassin couldn't go wrong.

[lizzybizzyart]

Your art is really cute and honestly I'm mad at myself that I haven't found your blog to follow before now! I even reblogged one of your art pieces and just didn't realize I wasn't following you? Anyway, problem solved and thank you for sharing all your art!

aww thats so nice thank you for liking my stuff and finding your way back to my blog!!!

[fyeahbatcat]

Hi. Batcat has always been a sort of subdued love for me, never really paid much attention because I kept forgetting about it until something brought it to my attention. I stumbled across this blog AND YOU IGNITED THE FIRE IN ME. Ugh. I forgot how much I loved these two, and how much they probably subconsciously influenced my OC's. Just... thank you. Definitely glad I can follow this blog and it's your fault that I'm going to start producing batcat stuff. xD

Thank you!!

[spiderman-homecomeme]

For the fic thing! You're a part time lover (and a full time friend) ⭐💡 😛"And it’s not as if Michelle minds. He’s tired and she has plenty of room. They’re friends, and that’s what friends do."

ah yes!! the idiots to idiots roommates fic!

⭐- What’s a scene/paragraph you’re proud of?

so we are still in the very early stages of this fic, and while i can't say I'm proud of anything these idiots have gotten into, this lil scene/section (a PREVIEW of the next chap!!) is the closest thing:

It’s nice, living with another person after years of being on your own. Having someone to just exist with is something that Peter’s never quite realized he needed—until now. Now, instead of consistently struggling and failing to make meals for one—because let’s be real, it’s impossible—they can just cook together. Now, if he ever locks himself out, there’s always a spare key that can get him back in.

And now, instead of texting MJ all of his stupid, silly thoughts, he can just knock on her door.

💡-What was the motivation behind the story?

tbh i wanted to write an entire fic that was just my brand of silly smut lmao paired with the fact that i wanted to write a multi-chap with minimal angst!

😛-Leave your favorite dialogue in the ask and I’ll tell you what I was thinking.

"And it’s not as if Michelle minds. He’s tired and she has plenty of room. They’re friends, and that’s what friends do."

This was literally just me being like.... ok.... they're dumb and trying to rationalize the fact that he sleeps over constantly. How DUMB can i make them

no brain cells in sight lmao

emoji fic asks!

[suchastart]

Congrats on the catalog! :D I'm happy for you! Perhaps a percabeth fluff fic, where Percy gets sick? We rarely get to see Annabeth properly care for her boyfriend when he really needs it.

“I think I’m dying,” Percy says, pulling his blankets up and over his head. His whole head feels stuffy, thick with heat and snot and pressure. The enclosed darkness of his sheets doesn’t help--breathing is already difficult, and now he’s suffocating even quicker just for the drama of it all and he hopes he meets his end soon, really, just drifts off in his bedroom at whatever o’clock in the cloudy, dim afternoon. It would be such a normal, unfitting end.

Annabeth pats his leg from where she sits at his side. “You’re not dying,” she says, not sympathetic at all.

“It’s all Estelle’s fault.” He sniffs, and wipes his nose on his pillow. “She’s a little vector for germs. We should’ve never sent her to preschool.”

“She has to grow up sometime. And I’m pretty sure you’re sick because you spent the past two days playing in this blizzard.”

“I’d prefer to blame this on my innocent baby sister, thank you.”

Annabeth’s weight moves from the bed, and leaves him briefly bereft. He can hear her moving around his bedroom--kicking his discarded jeans toward his hamper, tossing a clutter of used tissues into the trash, opening and closing his door. He dozes; dreams, maybe, of snowflakes on Annabeth’s eyelashes and his mother’s strands of silver hair, of Estelle’s puffy blue coat and mittens and her gap-toothed smile, of Grover, laughing loud and making snow-satyrs in the street.

The door creaks open. Percy blinks, and cool air rushes into his blankets, and Annabeth’s hand is on his forehead, his cheeks, his neck. Her fingers are soft and cool, and feel amazing when she brushes his greasy hair back. When he hums, pleased, she spends a few quiet minutes running her hand through his hair again, and again, and again.

He doesn’t think it’s possible to love her any more than he does right now, when he feels like death, when he feels like he might just melt straight through to Elysium under her touch.

“I don’t know,” she says eventually, pressing a lingering kiss to the space between his brows. “Maybe you are dying.”

He shrugs. “Lived a good life. Could’ve eaten more pizza, but everybody has last regrets.”

“Can’t do anything about pizza, but how do you feel about chicken noodle soup?”

His stomach rumbles. He feels nauseous, but also hungry, and also like he could spend a few hours sitting with his face in a toilet. A few hours or days or months ago, Estelle sat with him and got crackers all crunched up between his sheets. “Mama said crackers are good for you,” she’d said, pressing a saltine against his lips. He ate it because he loved her, because it was impossible to resist her big blue-brown eyes, had been ever since she was born and Sally had placed her into his arms. Every cracker she’d fed him felt doubly as sickening as the last, but--it was his sister. So he ate them.

“Ugh,” he says, and drags himself into something that might be an incline.

The things he does for the girls he loves.

Annabeth rolls her eyes, but she picks up a steaming bowl of what has to be his mother’s homemade soup. He’d know it if he could only smell it--but he has to go by what he can see, the fine chunks of carrots, the browned pieces of chicken, the thick, twisting noodles. It turns his stomach, a little, just looking at it, and he prays the feeling is a muted, scared hunger instead of impending toilet time.

“Open up,” Annabeth says after blowing on a spoonful and guiding it carefully towards his mouth.

He eats a few spoonfuls without really tasting anything, and soon enough she takes pity on him and places the bowl back on his desk, takes off her socks and her jeans and her cardigan, swings herself up and over his body. He makes a pitiful attempt to dissuade her. “You’ll catch my sick,” he mumbles as she pulls his blankets up and over herself, as she makes herself comfortable in his awful hot sheets, in his awful sweaty arms. Her skin feels blessedly cool against his--her bare feet and legs and hips, as she tugs him closer, as she presses herself against him.

“Annabeth,” he says.

She shrugs. She starts pushing her fingers through his hair again, and again, and again. “Worth it,” she says.

And he doesn’t think it’s possible to love her any more than he does now, when he feels like death, when she’s still here beside him, where she’s always been.