MORE FIYERBOQ DOODLES!! AND MY LIFE IS YOURS!!!! 🙏🙏🙏🙏🧎‍♀️‍➡️🧎‍♀️‍➡️🧎‍♀️‍➡️💗💗

For the record, I would never knowingly use or share AI generated art in anything I post, so if you ever catch me doing so, it was an accident, and I'd like you to let me know so I can delete it.

Hello EAH fandom, I present to you my newest crackship,

Daring Charming x Humphrey Dumpty.

After an entire lifetime of breaking his bones and multiple chronic illnesses, most people become completely unfazed of it. But he never does. He's sick and tired and sad. This is what started his disinterest and all around disdain towards most people who have it much much better than him. They don't care about him, they just know him as the tech kid who is always experiencing pain, so why should he care about them? He only tolerates a handful of people and, likes only 2 or 3. And he isn't that popular either. Who cares. He doesn't.

Daring Charming has everything. He's kind, handsome, chivalrous, VERY POPULAR, and rich. He knows exactly why he was born, he's a prince who helps and saves people, is beloved by everyone, and will end up marrying apple white. And he is very ok with that arrangement! He's very ok with most things! Because he's ok with most things, he doesn't really think further than that until it discomforts him. Besides people don't really look at him to have opinions or original ideas and thoughts, people don't think of him THAT deeply! And he's also cool with that. It's not what he's made for.

Humphrey keeps falling off of things and slipping and all around almost hurting himself horribly and Daring is always somehow there to save him. Always catching him and shit. It embarrasses Humphrey a lot but Daring is always cool about it, as he is with most things. This song and dance happens every so often and it always gets Humphrey feeling very very stupid about it. He isn't used to this.... What, commitment? From anyone? If he could say anything about Daring Charming is that he's VERY COMMITTED to keep up this ruse that he actually cares enough about Humphrey to always save him from feeling shittier than usual. At least that's what Humphrey tells himself every time Daring Charming makes his way into his mind. It's better to hold that strict belief, than believe... Anything else. He's too busy and tired for this shit. Besides, outside of that song and dance, and the stupid silly short conversations that surround them, they're at the end of the day not a part of each other's lives.

Until one day Humphrey had a great big fall and... For the first time in months he broke a bone, and now he feels a bit more sick and tired. Great. Daring for some reason wasn't there. It broke Humphrey for like, a minute over it, but then he just shoves those feelings away and decided that it doesn't matter. Daring never made ANY PROMISES he would always be there for Humphrey. And Humphrey is stupid. He's stupid.

Humphrey decides to do some work that he's been tasked to take care of for Blondie's mirror cast in bed, and everything is quiet. When suddenly he hears some very loud footsteps running up to his door, and someone barges in. And it's Daring Charming. Errrmmmmm what the fuck

Daring's jaw is agape, in disbelief... He quickly gets down on the floor next to Humphrey's bedside and expresses how sorry he is that he could even allow this to happen, almost sobbing as he explains. Humphrey is still processing him being here, completely baffled.

Humphrey sputters over his words and tells Daring that he shouldn't be sorry, it's not his responsibility any way. And then Daring cheerfully says that he had made it his responsibility for a while now. Wait. What.

Humphrey felt his face heat up, and once again he felt even more stupid. Just how easy is he to flatter?

Daring ends up telling Humphrey that he's going to make it up to Humphrey, by hanging out with him, and doing whatever Humphrey asks him too. He's going to be the most helpful friend Humphrey has ever had. For CHIVALRY!

Humphrey stares at him and says with a straightface, don't you have shit to do?

Daring smiles and answers, nope!

They do actually end up becoming real friends, and Humphrey pretends those old feelings aren't there anymore. Conversations with Daring are really really funny and intertaining, and this guy is actually like, really nice! And for once it was nice to have a friend you don't only interact with because of work or classroom projects. Like, if Humphrey could hang out with anyone... He would want to be with Daring. And that's weird. What the fuck.

Humphrey is always tired and pissed off about something, but the air seems to turn light and easy when Daring's around, and it's hard to not be effected by it.

It makes Humphrey very, very happy whenever Daring compliments and recognizes the hard work he puts into multiple school projects that have a technical division. And Humphrey found out that Daring is very good at giving compliments.

Errmmmmmmm nerd x popular guy moon x sunshine "I want to see more out of nowhere daring ships okay goodnight"

Omg why did I write so much this was supposed to be a dumb little post about this dumb little crackship but WHOOPS! hand slipped and this half baked mess is born. I honestly reallyyyyyyy like this dumb ship. I need more of these idiots. If anyone wants to feed into my delusions and see my vision feel free to add on. ALSO WE NEED A SHIP NAME.

life is fraught-less

~~

shop prints here

sometimes you need a break from sad and need to imagine modern au gang having a nice picnic in which they did not invite dutch or micah (who is convincing dutch hes being betrayed right now)im thinking

dutch: they’re probably all out there now…talking to those agents…taking the bribes…

then the camera cuts to arthur sketching bill and cain, who are playing at the other side of the field

hosea is aggressively applying sunscreen to sean because he wont put it on himself

lenny is reading and accidentally eating all the baby tomatoes that are meant for sandwiches

tilly and marybeth are making daisy chains while karen is asleep

john and jack are also asleep and john has wrapped his arms around jack, whos on his chest (abigail has taken 105 pictures and counting). they’ll be knocked out the whole time, they ate so much cookies and cheese and chips/crisps and cakes and sandwiches it was inevitable.

charles is laying on arthur and watching him sketch. hes not asleep though, hes just resting his eyes, trust me.

molly applied her sunscreen and is now getting the tan she deserves. she wonders why she feels so much calmer without dutch there.

there were horses in the nearby field so. you know what kierans up too.

after being attacked with sunscreen (hes irish and ginger, its for his own good) seans making his eighth sandwich with all the toppings. hes also telling everyone about when him and his da would go for picnics, and they find it quite wholesome so they dont stop him until he gets tearful.

sadie is eating strawberries and praying a horse kicks kieran or the farmer shoots him.

javier brought his guitar but hes eating, so he’ll play later. he cant even tell a story because his mouth is full of so much cookie.

miss grimshaw is protecting the food with her life from the pesky ants, seans legs when he constantly gets up and down, and lenny.

strauss is making the most ungodly food combos, he also had a picnic 20-30 years ago that ended in absolute trauma, so he’ll be sure to fill the gang in on that. lovely change from seans story.

uncle wasn’t invited. hes asleep somewhere in the field because he came anyway. he also took a box of cookies. (arthur thinks hes going crazy because he swore he bought another box but its nowhere to be found)

reverend is admiring the scenery, he finds it a good distraction for the early days of staying sober.

abigail is playing photographer for her kind of big instagram following shes not meant to have.

Warlock's rear admiral duties include preventing his boss from drunkenly confessing his crush on his boss at the navy officers' unofficial 4th of July party

Sean: As ya best friend...

Arthur: You're not my best friend, Charles is my best fri-

Sean: AS YOUR BEST FRIEND

“Come on, Arthur…”

Sean stumbled after him, boots skidding in the dirt, barely able to stay upright. The campfire crackled behind them, warm light spilling over the trees. Arthur kept walking, arms crossed tight over his chest, jaw clenched so hard it hurt.

“I just got back, y’know?” Sean whined, almost tripping over a root. “After them bastards took me— you missed me, admit it.”

Arthur sighed hard through his nose. “Jesus, kid. You’re like a damn tick. Ain’t even been back a whole day and you’re already clingin’ like a drunk pup.”

Sean didn’t even flinch at the words. If anything, he grinned bigger, that lopsided, cocky smile that somehow made Arthur’s guts twist into knots. His cheeks were flushed — partly from the whiskey, partly from something worse.

“You did miss me,” Sean said, sing-song, bumping his shoulder against Arthur’s. “C’mon, Arthur. Jus’ admit it. Say it. Say it.”

Arthur stopped dead in his tracks, growling low in his throat. “I ain’t sayin’ nothin’. Go bother someone else, damnit. You’re drunk as hell.”

Sean grabbed his sleeve and tugged — a desperate little pull. “Arthur, please.”

Arthur swore under his breath. He should shove him off. He should tell him to go sleep it off and stop makin’ a damn fool of himself.

But he didn’t.

Instead, he let Sean tug him off the trail, back behind the wagons where the firelight barely reached. It was quieter here, just the crickets and the far-off murmur of the others drinking and laughing. Sean pushed him up against a tree — not hard, but enough that Arthur could feel the heat of him, the way he was vibrating with nerves and booze and feeling.

“I missed you,” Sean said, lower now, more serious. His hands fisted in Arthur’s coat like he was afraid Arthur might slip away if he let go.

Arthur sighed again, but it came out softer this time. Almost a groan.

“You’re a damn fool,” he muttered.

Sean just smiled — a little more genuine now, a little less cocky. “Yeah, but I’m your fool, aren’t I?”

Arthur didn’t answer. He grabbed Sean’s face, rough and firm, and kissed him — messy, hard enough that their teeth clicked. Sean made a sound, surprised and pleased, hands scrambling to clutch at Arthur’s shirt.

“You’re so goddamn needy,” Arthur rasped against his mouth, voice rough and fond and miserable all at once.

“And you love it,” Sean breathed, grinning against his lips.

Arthur kissed him again, slower this time, one hand still cupped around Sean’s jaw, thumb brushing against the stubble there like he didn’t even realize he was doing it. Sean leaned into him with a needy little sigh, chasing after the touch like he couldn’t stand even an inch of space between them.

“You’re lucky I’m drunk too,” Arthur muttered against his mouth, voice low and rough. “Otherwise I wouldn’t be puttin’ up with this.”

Sean chuckled, breathless, his fingers twisting tighter in Arthur’s coat. “Bullshit,” he said, grinning against Arthur’s lips. “You’d’a come after me yourself if I didn’t drag you out here.”

Arthur grunted, neither confirming nor denying it, and grabbed Sean’s hips to steady him when he wobbled a little too much. Sean was practically melting against him, warm and heavy and just so damn much.

“You don’t even know what you’re askin’ for, kid,” Arthur said, barely above a whisper.

Sean nuzzled against his cheek, shameless and sweet. “I know what I want,” he said, hot breath brushing Arthur’s ear. “Want you. Missed you so much it hurt.”

Arthur froze for half a second — because it was too much, too raw — but Sean just looked up at him with those bright, earnest eyes and that stupid, crooked smile, and Arthur was helpless.

“Goddamn it,” he growled, and kissed Sean again, rougher this time, pushing him back against the tree. Sean made a desperate little noise, kissing him back with everything he had, like he was trying to make up for every hour he’d spent locked up and alone.

Arthur’s hands slid down to Sean’s hips, gripping them hard enough to bruise, and Sean laughed breathlessly into his mouth, like he couldn’t believe his luck. His fingers slid up Arthur’s chest, clumsy and eager, tugging at the buttons of his shirt like he wanted to get closer, closer still.

“Easy,” Arthur rasped, catching his wrists. “Ain’t doin’ nothin’ out here with the whole damn camp five feet away.”

Sean pouted — actual, honest-to-God pouted — and Arthur almost laughed. Almost.

“Later,” Arthur promised, voice low and rough as gravel. “You sober up a little. Then we’ll talk.”

Sean leaned his forehead against Arthur’s, eyes fluttering closed, still smiling. “Yeah,” he whispered. “Okay. Long as you stay.”

Arthur huffed a soft laugh and tightened his grip, holding Sean steady.

“I’m here,” he said gruffly. “Ain’t goin’ nowhere.”

The camp had long since gone quiet. A few snores drifted from the tents, and the last embers of the fire glowed low and red.

Sean was still buzzing around Arthur like a damn moth to a flame, though — even after sobering up a bit. If anything, he was worse now. Touching him, grinning at him, bouncing on his heels like he had a secret he couldn’t keep.

Arthur grumbled under his breath when Sean tugged at his sleeve again, but he followed anyway, boots crunching soft on the dirt as they slipped away from camp.

“You are tiring, you know that?” Arthur muttered as they pushed deeper into the trees.

Sean just laughed, not the least bit discouraged. “You love it. Admit it, big man. You missed me dancin’ circles around ya.”

Arthur shoved him lightly — a hand to the back of the head, rough but almost fond. “Shut up,” he growled.

Sean stumbled a little, laughing harder, but when he turned around, his smile was sharper — hungrier. His eyes raked over Arthur, top to bottom, and it sent a bolt of heat straight through Arthur’s gut.

“You gonna kiss me again, Arthur?” Sean asked, voice low and teasing. “Or you just gonna scowl at me all night?”

Arthur’s jaw ticked. His fists clenched and unclenched at his sides. He stepped forward, crowding Sean back against a tree, looming over him.

“You don’t ask for it,” Arthur said, voice dark, “you earn it.”

Sean grinned, sharp and wicked, like he’d won something. “Then teach me how, tough guy.”

Arthur didn’t give him the chance to be a little shit about it. He grabbed Sean by the front of his shirt, hauling him in and kissing him — hard, messy, nothing sweet about it. Sean gasped into his mouth, hands scrambling up Arthur’s chest, clawing at him like he wanted to climb inside his damn skin.

Arthur manhandled him without much ceremony, crowding him against the rough bark, sliding a knee between Sean’s legs to pin him there. Sean rolled his hips down with a shameless little groan, chasing friction, grinning even as he kissed Arthur back like his life depended on it.

“Goddamn,” Arthur muttered, breaking the kiss long enough to catch his breath. “You’re insufferable.”

“You love it,” Sean panted, rocking against him. “C’mon, Arthur. Want you—been waitin’ for you—”

Arthur gritted his teeth, pressed a rough kiss to Sean’s throat, biting down just enough to make him squirm and whine. His hands wandered without thinking — rough palms skating over Sean’s hips, his sides, squeezing hard enough to leave bruises. Sean lived for it, gasping and laughing and mouthing at Arthur’s jaw in return.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, kid,” Arthur growled, sliding one hand down to cup him through his pants, squeezing slow and mean.

Sean jerked, hips bucking, a raw sound torn from his throat. “Then what a way to go, eh?” he managed between pants.

Arthur snorted, half a laugh, half a warning, before kissing him again — this time deeper, hungrier, grinding their bodies together until they were both breathing hard, losing what little patience they had left.

He didn’t let Sean have anything easy — made him work for it, kept control of the kiss, the pace, everything. Every time Sean got too eager, Arthur would grab his wrists, pin him harder, bite at his throat until he was panting and pliant again.

“You wanna act like a damn brat,” Arthur muttered against his ear, “you’re gonna get treated like one.”

Sean just moaned and grinned, the cocky little bastard.

Sean rutted against him, wild and desperate, his hands pawing at Arthur’s coat like he couldn’t get close enough. His breath came hot and fast against Arthur’s neck, whimpering little noises he didn’t even seem to know he was making.

Arthur growled low in his throat and shoved Sean harder against the tree, the bark scraping at his back through his shirt.

“Hold still,” Arthur barked, voice low and dangerous.

Sean only laughed, breathless and wrecked. “Make me,” he taunted, rolling his hips again.

Arthur’s patience snapped.

He grabbed Sean’s wrists and pinned them above his head with one hand, holding him tight against the rough bark. Sean hissed at the sting but his hips bucked helplessly, chasing friction, chasing Arthur. His pupils were blown wide, lips kiss-bruised, hair a damn mess from where Arthur had been grabbing at it.

“You’re a damn nightmare,” Arthur muttered against his throat, biting down just enough to leave a mark.

“And you fuckin’ love it,” Sean gasped.

Arthur didn’t bother arguing. He freed Sean just long enough to yank open his belt, rough and impatient, fingers fumbling a little in his own urgency. Sean helped, clumsy with eagerness, laughing quietly every time their fingers brushed.

“Greedy little bastard,” Arthur rasped, palming Sean through his underwear, feeling the thick heat of him.

Sean groaned, hips jerking. “Arthur, c’mon—need you, need you—”

Arthur grunted and shoved Sean’s trousers down enough to get at him, wrapping a calloused hand around his cock and stroking him slow and hard. Sean gasped, throwing his head back against the tree, baring his throat in a way that made Arthur’s chest ache for reasons he didn’t want to examine.

“Fuck—” Sean bit his lip, trying to stay quiet even as his body jerked under Arthur’s hand. “God—you’re killin’ me—”

Arthur kept stroking him, slow and steady, hand rough, unforgiving. Every little noise Sean made went straight to Arthur’s cock, thick and aching inside his own pants, but he didn’t rush it. He wanted to watch Sean come apart first, wanted to see how badly Sean needed him.

Sean was shaking, eyes fluttering shut, hips fucking into Arthur’s fist helplessly. “Please,” he gasped, “Arthur, please—”

Arthur leaned in close, lips brushing Sean’s ear. “You finish for me, kid,” he said, voice a rough, low growl. “And maybe I’ll let you have me next.”

That was it — Sean shuddered hard, hips bucking once, twice, before he spilled hot and messy over Arthur’s hand with a broken moan, muffled against Arthur’s shoulder. His whole body sagged against the tree, boneless, wrecked.

Arthur didn’t let him go. He held him there a second longer, feeling him shake and gasp and cling.

When Sean finally blinked up at him, dazed and grinning like a fool, Arthur just shook his head and muttered, “Dumbass.” But there was no heat in it.

Sean laughed weakly, pressing a sloppy, grateful kiss to Arthur’s jaw. “Worth it,” he mumbled.

Arthur huffed a breath — half a laugh, half a surrender — and finally let him slide down to sit against the tree.

“You’re gonna owe me for this,” Arthur said, undoing his own belt with rough hands, voice low and dangerous.

Sean just grinned up at him, eyes bright and wicked even through the haze. “Anything you want, big man.”

Arthur smirked, dark and fond.

“Good.”

Sean sat slumped against the tree, still catching his breath, his shirt rumpled and half-untucked, trousers pushed down to his thighs. His cheeks were flushed deep pink, and his stupid grin hadn’t faded an inch.

Arthur finished buckling his belt, gruff and efficient, trying to pretend he wasn’t still aching for it. He wiped his hand off with a handkerchief, grumbling low under his breath.

Sean’s head lolled against the bark, but his bright eyes were still fixed on Arthur, sharp and hungry.

“My turn,” Sean said, voice rough and giddy.

Arthur shot him a look. “Your turn?” he rumbled.

Sean pushed himself upright, wobbly but determined. “Yeah, c’mere. S’always you takin’ care of me. Let me—” he licked his lips, grinning wider, “—return the favor.”

Arthur narrowed his eyes. “You’re half-drunk and all the way stupid.”

Sean just cackled and grabbed for him anyway, hooking fingers in Arthur’s belt loops and dragging him closer with surprising strength.

“C’mon, Arthur,” he purred, voice dropping into a low, teasing drawl. “Lemme be good for ya.”

Arthur grunted, but he didn’t move away. Didn’t stop Sean when he slid down onto his knees in the dirt, looking up at him with that wild, mischievous gleam.

“You’re a damn menace,” Arthur muttered.

Sean just grinned wider, hands fumbling at Arthur’s belt, undoing it with clumsy fingers. Arthur should’ve stopped him — the whole damn camp was just a few hundred yards away — but when Sean looked up at him like that, pupils blown wide, freckles flushed dark across his cheeks, Arthur’s willpower cracked clean down the middle.

Sean freed him from his trousers and gave an appreciative little whistle.

“Big fella,” he said, practically beaming. “No wonder you’re so grumpy all the time. Must be a burden, haulin’ this thing around.”

Arthur barked a low laugh before biting down on it, rolling his hips forward just enough to brush against Sean’s eager mouth.

“You gonna keep talkin’, kid,” Arthur growled, “or you gonna do somethin’ useful?”

Sean’s grin turned filthy.

Without another word, he licked a slow, teasing stripe up the underside of Arthur’s cock, pausing at the tip to swirl his tongue around it like he had all the damn time in the world. Arthur hissed through his teeth, one hand coming down heavy on Sean’s messy red hair, holding him steady.

Sean took him in slow at first — too slow — eyes bright and playful even as he hollowed his cheeks around him. Arthur groaned low, hips jerking forward involuntarily. Sean made a pleased little sound, like he liked getting manhandled, and started working him in earnest — fast, greedy, messy.

Arthur’s hand tightened in his hair, grounding himself.

“Christ,” Arthur muttered, voice rough and tight. “Ain’t no damn patience in you, is there?”

Sean pulled off with a wet pop, panting, grinning up at him, chin slick. “Patience is for cowards,” he said proudly, before diving back down again, taking him deeper this time, until Arthur felt his knees damn near buckle.

Arthur bit down on a groan, his free hand bracing against the tree behind Sean’s head, trying not to fuck into that hot, eager mouth too hard. But Sean made it damn difficult, moaning around him, hands clutching at Arthur’s thighs, desperate and unashamed.

It didn’t take long — it couldn’t, not with Sean looking up at him like that, drunk on it, drunk on him — and Arthur finally lost it, hips jerking once, twice, before he spilled down Sean’s throat with a low, wrecked growl.

Sean swallowed every drop, messy and eager, licking his lips like he couldn’t stand to waste a drop. Arthur leaned heavily against the tree, trying to catch his damn breath.

When Sean finally pulled back, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he looked ridiculously pleased with himself.

“Good, wasn’t it?” he said smugly.

Arthur let out a broken, breathless laugh, still trying to recover. “You’re insufferable,” he rasped.

Sean beamed, crawling up into Arthur’s lap like a damn stray cat, hands sliding under Arthur’s coat to feel his chest.

“Yeah,” Sean said, pressing his nose against Arthur’s throat, “but you like me anyway.”

Arthur sighed, a long-suffering sound, but he didn’t push him off. He just wrapped an arm around Sean’s waist, holding him there against the tree, while the night spun slow and lazy around them.

Maybe he did like him anyway.

The little bastard.

Arthur shoved Sean lightly ahead of him, trying to get him to shut up and walk straight as they stumbled back toward camp. Sean was still riding high, practically vibrating with smugness, flashing that big idiot grin like he’d won a goddamn prize.

“Shut up,” Arthur muttered under his breath, elbowing him.

Sean just laughed, way too loud for the hour, and stage-whispered, “You’re just mad ’cause I got you to make all them pretty noises, big man.”

Arthur grit his teeth, cheeks burning under his beard. “I will knock you flat on your ass if you don’t shut it,” he growled.

But it was too late — they were already in the edge of the firelight. A few of the gang were still up: Bill, Javier, Uncle — playing a lazy hand of cards and drinking the last of the evening whiskey. They all looked up as Arthur and Sean came bumbling back in.

Sean swaggered, all puffed up like a damn rooster. Arthur tried to slouch behind him, shoulders hunched, scowling deep enough to scare off a bear.

Didn’t help.

Bill took one look at them and barked a laugh. “Well, well, well,” he said loud enough for the whole damn county to hear. “*Look who got himself rode hard and put up wet.”

Sean whooped, spinning around to walk backwards so he could wink at Arthur.

“Tired ya out, didn’t I, big fella?” he crowed.

Arthur glared daggers at him. “I swear to God, Sean—”

Then a shadow loomed out of the darkness.

Dutch.

Leaning casual against one of the wagons, arms crossed, cigar glowing at the corner of his mouth. He had that look in his eye — the one that made Arthur’s stomach sink and his chest ache all at once.

Dutch smirked wide enough to show teeth.

“Ah,” he said, voice warm and slow. “I see Mr. MacGuire has been… keepin’ you busy, my boy.”

Arthur groaned under his breath. “Christ Almighty.”

Dutch just opened his arms, that familiar, slow, knowing smile on his face.

Without even thinking about it, Arthur shuffled right into him, head ducked low, letting Dutch fold him up in a big, crushing hug. Dutch clapped him hard on the back, a low chuckle rumbling out of his chest.

“There he is,” Dutch murmured. “My good, hard-workin’ boy.”

Arthur grumbled something under his breath that might’ve been a curse, might’ve been a laugh — even he wasn’t sure — but he didn’t pull away. Just stood there a second, breathing in the warm smoke-and-leather smell of Dutch’s coat, the solid weight of him.

Behind them, Sean was catching hell.

Bill was cackling. “Took ya long enough, Maguire. Thought you’d die a virgin!”

Uncle wheezed, “Poor Arthur, he didn’t know what he was signin’ up for!”

Even Javier was laughing, shaking his head and muttering something in Spanish that made the others laugh harder.

Sean just beamed, throwing both arms wide like he was king of the damn camp. “Worth it!” he shouted. “Best damn ride of my life!”

Arthur made a low, pained noise against Dutch’s shoulder.

“You hearin’ this?” he muttered.

“I hear it,” Dutch said, chuckling deep. “Sounds like you’ve been properly appreciated, son.”

Dutch’s hands slid slow up his back, cradling him firm, one hand settling at the nape of Arthur’s neck.

“C’mon, my boy,” Dutch murmured, voice low and coaxing. “Let’s get you somewhere quiet.”

Arthur just nodded into him.

Dutch led him without fuss into his tent — private, dark, warm — and sat back heavy onto his cot, tugging Arthur right down onto his lap like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Arthur straddled him without thinking, knees bracketing Dutch’s hips, heavy arms winding around Dutch’s neck as he pressed his face into his shoulder, just breathing him in. Letting everything else fall away.

Dutch smiled against Arthur’s temple, stroking big, slow hands up and down his back.

“Aw,” he said, teasing but fond. “Poor thing. Mr. MacGuire wore you clean out, didn’t he?”

Arthur grunted against him, muffled.

“Always yours,” Arthur muttered, voice rough and quiet. “Just say the word. I’ll do it. I mean… I probably won’t get it up, but I can still have you. If you want.”

Dutch huffed a soft laugh, low in his chest.

“No, no,” Dutch said, running his fingers slow through Arthur’s hair, so gently that Arthur practically melted against him. “That’s no fun if you’re half dead on your feet, son.”

Arthur breathed out a shaky little sound, almost a laugh, letting his weight sag even heavier into Dutch. Just letting himself be held.

Dutch tilted his head, thumb stroking slow over Arthur’s cheekbone, and pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth — soft, coaxing.

Arthur shifted, letting Dutch guide him, and kissed him back slow, open-mouthed and sweet, no urgency to it. Just lazy warmth, the two of them sinking into each other like they had all the time in the world.

Dutch kept petting his hair, slow and steady, like he couldn’t get enough of the feel of it under his palm. Arthur leaned into the touch, pliant and trusting, making little low noises against Dutch’s lips.

“Good boy,” Dutch murmured against his mouth. “You’re always mine.”

Arthur hummed, the sound low in his throat, fingers curling tighter in the lapels of Dutch’s coat.

Concept: After the Battle of Mount Othrys Camp Jupiter grew afraid of Jason.

Jason had always been there golden boy. Sure he’d always pushed for things they didn’t approve of, like ending beloved traditions because they were “harming others.”

But he’d always been someone they trusted, relied on and looked to for aid.

Seeing him go up against Krios, a titan and the power and skills that he showcased. It reminded them all that Jason wasn’t just any old demigod, he was a son of Jupiter.

Jason only pushed himself that hard to save them, surviving the ordeal hadn’t even crossed his mind. But seeing how far he went scared them all.

What if one day he turns on them?

Most of them were legacies after all, little more than mortals. What could they do against one who could do the impossible like he just did.

They couldn’t kill him and none were even brave enough to try. So they began to shun him. Slowly but surely isolating Jason away until he was left with no one.

Even Reyna who had thought the whole thing was ridiculous had already begun to distance herself from him because of Venus’s words.

Jason didn’t know what he did wrong. He threw himself into work hoping that maybe his efforts would change things. But nothing did, if anything the more effort he made to help the worse it became.

Octavian was front and centre trying to diminish whatever credibility Jason had left. He spoke of tragedies that would occur in his name.

And how he’d be much better suited in the position of Praetor. People didn’t treat it like it was something outrageous anymore.

The day Jason vanished they all sighed with relief.

There's something funny (if slightly tragic) to me about the fact that Fiyero's himbo act that he puts on through Dancing Through Life, and that we find out later he secretly hates, is literally what saves him multiple times through the musical.

When Madame Morrible realises Elphaba cast the spell and freed the Lion Cub which hastens her invite to the Emerald City to get rid of dangerous influences (I'm aware this isn't explicitly shown in the musical but I have to think it went down in a fairly similar way to the movie), Fiyero is missing too, but presumably Madame Morrible, just thought he missed the lesson because he didn't care - no suspicion is put on him at all.

When Fiyero, suddenly after Elphaba is declared a criminal, starts immediately having an interest that he never did before at working in the palace in the Wizards Guard? He's just following his girlfriend, surely the best thing we can do with him is give him a fancy position and get him engaged to boost moral! There's no way he could be a man on the inside.

When he asks for water the moment they are about to capture the Witch? Yeah, that's just the kind of zany thing himbo Fiyero would do, there's nothing sus about him removing every hostile witness from the room...

And then, of course, he's literally pretending to be brainless for the latter part of act 2 - which allows him to temper the biggest threat coming towards Elphaba and facilitate her escape, without anyone even suspecting who he really is.

I would genuinely argue that Fiyero is the cleverest character in the whole show and he gets so far by people constantly falling for his act and underestimating his intelligence.