I ship Arthur and Molly.

Nice shy Arthur who likes books and school and being a dork
Bossy punk rock Molly who fights the machine and doesn’t have time for anyone’s shit

I’m thinking yes.

Confession: I may have said this before, but I used to call DW DDW, with an extra D. Also I had Arthur, DW, Francine, Kate, and Pal plushies, Arthur action figures, and a talking DW that played games and moved her head and arms.

I didn’t know they made Arthur plushies! Now I need to get one. I also had an Arthur action figure! He wore a blue t-shirt in contrast to his usual yellow sweater. He also had a skateboard attached to his feet. I used him as a bath toy for years and also took him to the park and made him slide down the slide. I would pretend he was in the X-Games or something it was fun. 

That was before the dark times. Before the great wars. I was ripped from my home and my family. I was forced to endure months of intense training at a military camp nicknamed “Hell’s Basement”. The worst part was that none of my fellow trainees seemed to like me. No one wanted to be my friend. Arthur was there though. He stayed with me every day and night. Pushing me to try harder, to break my limits and to do my best. He stayed up with me on my sleepless nights, joking and talking with me while I hand-wrote letters to my family by candlelight. He made it much easier. He made everything okay. He would always say to me at the end of every day, “What a wonderful kind of day, huh?” 

Without prior notice, I was shipped off to France. The French had surrendered (again) and I was placed in the 21st Raider Battalion. We were the “armed to the teeth, front line assassins”. Only 1 in 10 Raider Battalion men would return home alive. I guess this death sentence led our team to become friends. We forged a bond stronger than steel. These men had become my brothers. Arthur too, was part of the gang. It was the stories and laughter that we shared that will always have a place in my heart.

August 4th. We were quietly moving along the remains of the Bellinzona castles near Switzerland. The birds had gone silent, and the trees had stopped moving. I narrowed my eyes, and I got this feeling in my bones. A faint shout in the distance triggered my instincts and I grabbed the nearest comrade and dove in the trench. “Get the fuck down!” I shouted at the top of my lungs. Mortars plunged into the ground in front of us. Gunfire from hundreds of soldiers shattered my ear drums. Arthur had fallen out of my pocket and into the dirt. At least he was safe. Minutes felt like hours. Most of my regiment had been decimated by the enemy. Reinforcements hadn’t come, and it was starting to look like that this was the end. I looked Arthur in the eye and told him to remember the letter I had left in my breast pocket for my wife. The letter he was supposed to bring home to her, in case I didn’t make it. A silly letter, we originally said. Of course we would come home safe. He looked me right in the eye and promised me he would get it to her. Forget the imminent death that laid before us, he was going to do good on his promise. I reached for his hand, to say goodbye. 

A bullet went through Arthur’s left temple. The greatest friend I ever had slumped over without a word. Blood, shrapnel and dirt covered my uniform. My rifle, still in my left hand, was the only thing I had in that godforsaken trench. No. Not Arthur. 

My eye caught sight of an abandoned machine gun nest. I ran for it, neglecting my own safety. I don’t have any auditory memory of this event, but I remember screaming at the top of my lungs as I lay waste to as many soldiers as possible. Reports later showed that I took two bullets in my left shoulder, but I dont remember any physical pain passing through my body. 

Reinforcements came through and destroyed what was left of the enemy. I stood for a second, in awe of the destruction that lay in front of me. I regained my senses and ran back to Arthur. He lay there in the soft dirt. His eyes closed. He looked so peaceful. I laid my hand on his forehead. “What a wonderful kind of day we had.” 

Confession: the Christmas special always made me tear up. I was such a baby & I would go out if my way to see it every year :) I did this year 2 thru tumblr and I'm 21 now but I still love it.

The Arthur Christmas movie is one of the greatest holiday movies I own! Theres no shame in loving it, no matter how old you are.

Confession: When I was little I was afraid to eat lima beans after Arthur cut his knee on the lima bean can. I would bend the skin on my knee to make it look like I cut it and I'd shout "I CUT ME KNEE ON THE LIA BEAN CAN"

oh my god hahaha you were a precious child

DW reminds me of my grandma as well as myself

Your grandma is like DW?? Thats so kickass. Does she also have a brother that she totally rips on? 

I'm 24 and I will never -not- watch Arthur. My 7 and 8 year old sisters watch it and my 21 year old brother still watches it. Arthur 4ever!

Arthur forever? Oh god, please don’t tell me thats going to be the name of the next Arthur movie. We know what happened when they named a Batman movie like that. 

Confession: I got into Arthur after watching the Arthur Youtube Poop's

I doubt you’re alone haha. Some of those are pretty funny.

I wanted Arthur and Francine to date SO much when I was little.

I felt the same way as a kid! That’s why fanfiction is written! 

Though SOME PEOPLE write stories about how George has multiple personality disorder and how Wally has become this malevolent voice in George’s head and has forced George to become an alcoholic as a way to cope with the crippling destructive personality that is Wally. Better yet, Wally is a psychopath and kills people for fun, taunting George this entire time.

Thats me by the way. I wrote that about George. (read it here

Confession: Mighty Mountain still rules, and they always will.


My childhood innocence died when Arthur hit D.W. I still have nightmares about it.

Ah, classic children’s television: violence and nightmares. That’s why I was raised watching Scarface and American Psycho.