#rainbowfruitpastilles

[stirringwinds]

Hello hello! I have an ask request for you, if you fancy- Please reblog/ repost your favourite fic or art of yours, or one that you're proud of and let us know why 🙏

thank you so much for this interesting question! i have a lot of favourites, so it was hard to pick, but i'll talk about this one:

The caption for this one was: 'Father had an empire / Stretched down from the heavens / To the depths of hell… / Now those days are gone, / Now you have the heavens, / All that lies beyond, / And all the hope I claim / Since leaving me undone. / You have my hands — forgive me. / You are your father’s son.'

This is one of my favourites because I love digging into the tug-of-war that goes on between Arthur and Alfred so much—between being bound together as father and son (and the moments of sentiment and tenderness that did exist amidst their dysfunctional relationship), king and crown prince—and the sort of Titanomachy vibe of being rivals. Titanomachy because well, that's the story of the old gods being overthrown by the new generation of gods in a war to decide who would have dominion over the universe. And that's very symbolic of their relationship, especially after 1945 which really hammers in the changing of the guard. Alfred doesn't quite slay his old man (unlike how some other older nations might have)...but it's a real generational change. A real relinquishment of power that wasn't without some prideful bitterness and scorn on Arthur's part, inasmuch as Arthur always favoured Alfred amongst his children, and begged for Alfred's help during the darkest days of WWII.

One thing I quite enjoyed was redesigning the back of Alfred's jacket from canon—instead of the US Army Air Force jacket, this is a Navy G1 flight jacket, because I headcanon Alfred as a naval aviator during WWII in the Pacific. The USS Yorktown was named after the Battle of Yorktown during the American Revolution (as most of you know)—and was a real aircraft carrier that played a pretty crucial role in several pivotal battles like Coral Sea and Midway against the Imperial Japanese Navy. It felt very apt, because Lord Father (tm) himself rose to power as a maritime empire—and here is Alfred, marrying sea and air power to seize the very power of the sun (stars produce light and heat through nuclear reactions after all).

After all, the boast of global British seapower decisively sank underneath the waves at Singapore in 1941 with the destruction of the Repulse and Prince of Wales at the hands of the Japanese. Alfred doesn’t have a title but...in spirit, that’s kind of who he is to Arthur. His heir. There’s some irony going on with Arthur’s deliverance being him. Composition-wise, I had fun with putting Arthur next to Alfred—but in the shadow— the sun sets on the British Empire after all, but at the end of the day, it's the crown prince growing out of his father's shadow and stepping into his shoes. Yes, I am a bit heavy-handed 😂 but all the same—I absolutely love drawing Arthur and Alfred together, because there’s so much to depict with the competing and fascinating strands making up their dynamic.

[senditothemoonn]

Okay sometimes I'm living my life and othertimes I'm living my life thinking about the glorious art you've done for some of my fics and then I feel so complete I can't even put it into words

You bring me such JOY

NO BECAUSE THIS IS EXACTLY HOW I FEEL ABOUT YOUR FICS AAHHH 🩷💖💞💗💝💓

I’m just going about life normally and then bam I think about odd socks or the ZOMBIE FIC (😭😭😭) and I start SOBBING

Your writing always inspires me, that’s why sometimes I just gotta bang out some fanart

[needcake]

So today is the birthday of one of my favorite persons in this fandom and this life:

✨✨@oumaheroes / @rainbowfruitpastilles✨✨

(lovingly nicknamed Rains by yours truly back when we first starting talking because of eurovision, but who also goes by Ouma, Heroes and Fandom Grandma✨)

And to honor her and her incredible work I wanted to do something a little different this year! I've selected some of my favorite passages from her beautiful beautiful fics and I hope this makes you go insane and absolutely feral the way I know you like it 😌😚

From Earthbound, chapter 4:

Peter dreams that his legs reach down deep into the ocean, right to the sea bottom, and he watches the years pass silently by. Cast in metal and garbed in rust he falls, piece by piece, into an unforgiving sea. He dreams of rain, of smoking guns and angry curses, of abandonment and loneliness as he's left behind. He tosses and turns, unable to get comfortable, as wisps of memory lap gently against his consciousness. He dreams of a gruff voice mumbling soothing words after a nightmare, handmade toys and a warm calloused hand carding through his hair. Hot tea and biscuits in front of a fire. Bedtime stories and scratchy kisses. Of a man who loves him but who just doesn't know how to do it the way Peter needs. He wakes with dried tear tracks on his face and the ghost of a name on the tip of his tongue.

This fic is so incredibly beautiful, every character, every story. It brings you to this new and remade world that is fatally flawed, and as the characters slowly go back to their original Earth, their memories of their past lives and past selves come back like a punch, and the force of it just leaves us gasping. It's so powerful, so beautiful!! I absolutely adore it!!

---

From Lavender's Blue:

New officers are the worst, in Arthur’s personal opinion. They have this hopeful gleam about them that Arthur, world-weary as he is, cannot stand. Butter and milk fed children chasing honour and glory into hell itself, so blinded by it that they cannot see the dangers that litter the ground around them. They’re terribly young: nineteen, twenty, twenty-two. This and this alone causes Arthur to soften enough to answer them and he shakes himself back to the present where he doesn’t want to be, ‘Yes?’ ‘Come and play cards with us. We’ll deal you in.’ One of them breaks the deck expertly, a flick of his wrist and fingers sending the cards from one hand to another. Arthur can’t help but think of Gilbert doing the same thing sprawled across a sofa in Arthur’s parlour merely a few years ago, sleeve damp with rum where he’d spilt it. Too drunk to bloody well hold a glass of Arthur’s finest alcohol but hands always sharp enough for pretty tricks. Eyes clear despite it all, watching Arthur mischievously over Francis draped loose limbed in his lap. ‘No, thank you.’ Arthur straightens up and rolls his shoulders, feeling the knots and tension there under his coat. He’d been sitting too long. He’s due out on patrol soon and he checks his watch to assess the time.

I don't think I've told you enough how much I love this fic, the grittiness of it, the desperation, the idleness. You can almost see the men in the trenches, see the young officers playing cards to pass the time while they wait and Arthur's restlessness and anxiety. Absolutely flawless! ---

From Gold Filigree and Chainmail:

‘I’m not entirely vain.’ ‘We could have been doing many things today but instead we are here, admiring you.’ ‘We are not admiring me,’ France told him, coming up alongside, ‘Just my people and history. Which you can argue is me, but it is not really.’ England gestured at the painting with his head, ‘That’s you.’ The diner in question was in profile but it was easy enough to tell, from those who knew him well, that it was France himself. A habitual way of draping himself on a chair and the same loose, wavy hair as today. Half grin unchanged, a connection through time via the almost direct look at the painter through the fourth wall. He looked so much younger. France smiled fondly, ‘Ah, so it is.’

No one writes such delicious Fruk like you do!! You have such a hand handling these two together, you can take them from having a fight to talking about philosophy and love and it'll always be absolutely delicious and banter-y and iconic, and I'll always want to jump into the page and grab France by the hair and give him a good shake and kick England in the shin for good measure (but also lock them in a closet and throw away the key).

---

From Seen From The Other Side, chapter 1:

Their captain died last year. He died at their feet and now he turns and grins. Sees them staring, sees them know. Watches as they take him in, the horrifying, unholy miracle of it. Strong arms and broad shoulders, sharp white teeth in tanned skin. Blood in his heart and no hole near his neck. Ancient eyes that hold them there.

This entire series just makes me want to go ballistic!! I want to eat a hole in the concrete every time I read it because it's so good!! LOOK AT IT THAT'S SO GOOD!!!!!

---

From It's All About The Delivery, chapter 8:

‘Mr Williams, I did not and you are stepping way outta line here.’ ‘If you just look-‘ ‘No!’ his voice was far too loud- it rang out clear across the marble floors but the PM couldn’t help himself, an uncomfortable churning feeling inside his chest clouding all reason and logic, ‘I will not, Mr Williams. I’m doing so much already; I’m here in a manor in the middle of nowhere with a posh boy Lord who believes he’s the embodiment of dirt and I’m quite willing to go along with that to keep things smooth, but please, for the love of God, stop pushing me.’ ‘I do beg your pardon.’

The embodiment of dirt!!!!!!!! I laugh so hard every time I read that!! This entire fic makes me both want to give Matt little kisses and tuck him in at night and throw my laptop into the sun because Stephen is so STUBBORN (I adore Leigh though, we can keep her). It's the perfect mix of politics, family affairs, work relationships, interpersonal relationships, PMs that are too dumb to be alive, glorious jokes and little genuine heartfelt moments that just make me weep with joy!! Absolutely perfect!!!

---

From Reset, chapter 8:

They fell silent, remaining pressed together tightly until England had stopped shaking. 'I was supposed to have Reset.' He said, voice distant and quiet as if he were speaking more to himself than to anyone in particular.  France was almost about to fall back asleep again, but became alert instantly, 'What?'  'I'm due one, it seems.'  France racked his brain, struggling to try and think of the last time England had had his stint at being human. 1800s? No wait, before that... it couldn't have been anywhere around the 1600s, he'd been too busy starting to pillage and conquer to allow himself to enjoy a mortal existence. Late in the 1700s then, perhaps?  'We're all probably due one,' England continued, 'so much has changed even in the last hundred years that we're all a bit out of touch- Francis' lifespan being one example.'  'How could you tell that you...' France floundered, 'why do you think that?'  France felt England give a small shrug, 'I know it was time; it was very hard to stay, I guess. You're dead but still there, but this time I had to actually think about staying.' He ran out of words, language not really enough to describe what he intrinsically knew. 'I knew it wouldn't be a good idea though, not right now.'  France huffed. 'Well no. I, for one, would have to deal with your government and also reintroducing myself to mine, whilst at the same time being embroiled in a murder inquiry.'  'Don't forget that someone is still trying to kill you.'  'Oh yes, that too. How could I have let that slip my mind.' England chuckled and then coughed, lungs not quite ready.  France helped him sit up a bit higher and rubbed his back, 'This isn't something we need right now. One more hit on you and it'll be even harder to fix this mess if you actually stay dead.' England continued to cough and try to wrangle his breathing back under control, but shook his head.  France tutted in annoyance. 'I doubt that you'll be able to put it off for long, it's not something that you can simply avoid.' He sighed and leant back against the tree. The gap between them had filled very quickly with cold air, and once he stopped struggling to breathe France pulled England back down again and covered them both back up. 'This is going to make things a whole lot more difficult, you know.'  'Dreadfully sorry.' England did not sound in any way sorry. 'Next time I'll just die better, shall I?'  France gave him a smiling kiss to the temple, 'You could always learn to die better, you are never very pretty when you do.'  England elbowed him in the gut and leant hard against him on purpose. 'I cannot wait to not have to see your face again after this.'  France huffed at him. 'You would miss my shining example of poise, culture and beauty before too long.'  'Would not.'  'Oh! Think of how boring your life would be without me to enhance it, for example, consider that nice long holiday we'll go on after all of this blows over. Southern France, by the beach and in the sun...'  'You can sod off, I'm going home.'  'Back to your rainy lump in the sea, of course my dear. I shall not join you.'  'Thank fuck for that.'

DO YOU SEE WHAT I MEAN WHEN I SAY YOU ARE A MASTERMIND WRITING WITH THEM??? I love to see it!!!! I read this with the biggest grin because every dialogue just jumps out of the page and they are both so alive!!! I absolutely love it!! I love the plot, I love the idea of Reset for them, I love the execution, the humor, the romance, the love!!!! I love it!!!!!!!

--- And to close this humble offering on this very special day, I hope you have the most wonderful day today, my dear, and that we can share many many birthdays and eurovisions and stories together for many many years to come!! I love you and I hope you all the best in this entire world!!! 💖💖💖💖💖💖

[sketchytea]

Hey Sketchy 😘 I have an ask request for you, if you fancy! Please reblog/ repost your favourite art or post of yours, or one that you're proud of (any fandom) and let us know why 🙏

hey! first of all i wanted to say thank you so much for the cute ask ❤ i've just been selfishly holding onto this in my inbox so that it could just sit there

i reblogged two because i'm indecisive and can't pick. i'm proud of this piece i did for historical hetalia week. i'd worked really hard on it and was super pleased to see in the tags that all the vibes and historical context i'd intended came across clearly to people without me having to write a big paragraph explaining it all. to me it meant that i had succeeded, in a way

second is this dnd party piece from the tve campaign. i just like it because i made it at a time when i hadn't done personal art in ages, and the party and its characters are very precious to me. it's fun making those disfunctional idiots appear epic and badass *when they are, in fact, very stupid

[mystmoon]

4 and 33!

4 which cryptyd being do you believe in?

I don't really know a lot about cryptids? Or at least, whenever I learn about one it's always in the context of knowing its fake. When I was a kid in Scotland some other kids tried to persuade me that haggis were real alive creatures that did mating dances on hills but I didn't fully believe them even at the time.

33 the last adventure you’ve been on?

Yesterday we went on an adventure to a Christmas fair in Malton which was fun! It wasn't as good as the food fair we've been to before but we still bought some good looking snacks and then got our Christmas tree on the way home so setting that up is going to be today's job I think

[a-luran]

Rules: You can usually tell a lot about a person by the type of music they listen to. Put your playlist on shuffle and list the first 10 songs, and then tag 10 people.

Tagged by @darklittlestory who couldnae find my ulr ksks

Beyond the Stage, a composition by Dario Marianelli (for Anna Karenina)

Torero, Chayanne (HAHAHA I'm not in the mood for it so I skipped it. I'll add an extra one in exchange)

Life Eternal, Ghost

Better in the Morning, Birdtalker

.... Mayonesa Radio Edit, Chocolate (banger)

La Cátedra, Residente (banger)

A Burning Hill, Mitski

Chelsea Hotel No. 2, Rufus Wainwright

The Bargain Store, Dolly Parton

Cod Liver Oil and Orange Juice, Hamish Imlach

Ugly, Broke and Chubby, by Young Spirit

Story I hope you listen to each and every one of these songs, they are all great. At the same time please do not judge my playlists by this un-curated sample I am a man of diverse and varied taste. I'm tagging @astrobravo with no pressure and @rainbowfruitpastilles and anyone else who would like to do this.

[salmonellaandcheese]

yay tag game! thank u for the tag, let’s see what my liked playlist gives me

1. Clair de Lune by Claude Debussy

2. Who We Are by Hozier

3. Hungover in the City of Dust by Autoheart

4. Me and My Husband by Mitski

5. Lotta True Crime by Penelope Scott

6. Golden by Harry Styles

7. Would That I by Hozier

8. UCKERS by Shygirl

9. The Cult of Dionysus by The Orion Experience

10. Pierre by Ryn Weaver

huh, guess that’s what happened when i haven’t got rid of any songs on that playlist since highschool

tagging (only if you want to!)

@rights-for-redshirts @devintrinidad @radioactivehydronerd @hetaari @lady--lisa @rainbowfruitpastilles @nitr0m-nik @froggieknight @amberskyyking @hondakiku @roszabell and anyone else who wants to join!

Thank you for the tag @whyareweherereally ✧*｡ﾟ

Rules: shuffle your on repeat playlist and post the first 10 tracks, then tag 10 people.

Trepanation Party — Voxtrot

Victoria Falls — The Divine Comedy

Bloodhail — Have A Nice Life

Laura Palmer — Bastille

Drawn to the Blood (Fingerpicking Remix) — Sufjan Stevens

Scarborough Fair / Canticle — Simon & Garfunkel

Ask — The Smiths

No Caffeine — Marika Hackman

No One is Ever Going to Want Me — Giles Corey

I Was Born Yesterday — The Divine Comedy

(if you would like to) I will tag @luxurycatscratchpost, @salmonellaandcheese, @commiefaggoth, @rat-prophetess, @dragontamer75, @vampireghostlawyer, @gusujay, and @thanatika

[maelerie]

For the song recs: Marie Peters- you signed up for this!

couldn’t listen all the way through | not my thing | it’s okay | kinda catchy | ok i really like this | downloading immediately | already in my library

Ooooooooh I saw Maisie live a few days ago in Brussels!! She was the act before Ed Sheeran and she sang this song! I remember telling myself I should add it to my Spotify but forgot 🙈 So, thank you for reminding me haha! I really loved her songs. Will definitely listen to more! 💜

[sinunamor]

Hello, I just want to tell you that your art is amazing, your AUs are amazing, and YOU are amazing- I can't get enough of everything you do and every time I see your work they make me so happy! Thank you fir all of your hard work 🙏❤

how else to thank you?? you always take the time to write out amazing tags (yES I DO READ YOUR TAGS LIKE A LOSER STILL LMAO) and it makes me so happy knowing someone out there takes part of my joy in my own nonsense anddhjsjs i just I APPRECIATE Y'ALL OKAY ❤❤❤ you DO encourage me to improve and git good at my art thank you, thank you so much for being you 😭🤲❤

lemme just...lemme just throw practice art at you

more nonsenedhg

[rein-ette]

If it hasn't been asked already, do you have any headcanons about France and England's relationship? 👀

Ah, and now we end where I always seem to end. These two cannot get rid of each other, and I cannot get rid of them.

*cracks knuckles* ok idk what you want to hear so I’m just gonna ramble here goes

So before I got my soul stolen by engport, fruk had been, like. Everything. Then I went through a crisis period where I was like 😱 how do I choose 😱 and now I’m like, ok, but why do I have to choose? I think Port and France fill very different roles in Arthur’s life, both of which are essential. Not only that, thinking about engport has helped me better understand Francis and Arthur’s dynamic, so I’ll be comparing a little throughout these hcs.

For me, fruk is a very — latent? — relationship. It’s ironic, bc engport are the ones who actually call themselves best friends and fruk prefer to be known as enemies/occasional lovers, but if you saw them on the street, you’d think France and England were close friends and England and Portugal, are, well, clearly gay for each other. They’re far more openly affectionate, whereas even for those who know them like Spain or Prussia, it can sometimes be hard to believe France and England are dating, let alone head over heels in love.

But they are. It’s just that they’ve been by each other’s side for so long, had those feelings for so long, that they’ve become a part of the background hum, a basic part of their lives. So usually the feelings Arthur or Francis actively feel for each other are mild, everyday things: annoyance, impatience, curiosity, worry. Especially in public/around other nations, they're not touchy or affectionate at all.

But if you know where and how to look, you'll see the signs. A napkin with scribbled math equations, something they argued over at a cafe. A cufflink here, a watch there, all gifts from each other from the hundreds of birthdays they've spent together. Arthur's number listed as an emergency contact on some inane government form. Francis' handwriting on the margins of Arthur's meeting minutes: remember to discuss this with Denmark, the address for a restaurant they're meeting at that night. Francis rereading various titles of english literature, trying to understand him better. Arthur paying for Francis' clothes with his own card without thinking about it. Their lives are intimately, mundanely intertwined in a way that's remarkably rare among nations.

This is actually a rather recent development in their relationship. In my hc Francis and England only started seriously seeing each other right before World War II, and began an "official" (or what passes for official) relationship right after. Then they broke it off for a while again when de Gaulle became president, then got back together shortly after he left office and have more or less gone pretty steady ever since. So that's like, what, a couple decades? A drop in the ocean for a nation. But this easy familiarity they've found doesn't feel new, to them or to anyone else, because in reality they've been building it up for centuries, albeit in unconventional ways. It's almost like through killing, conning, and tearing each other apart, they've lost their fear of each other. Nations have with their own kind a wariness, a constant stumbling block in the back of their mind reminding them no matter how deep their feelings, their interests can never truly align -- and this results in small awkwardnesses like pointedly locked office cabinets and walking away to take phone calls. But such things don't apply to Francis and Arthur. Part of it is the luxury of being allies now, but most of it is the fact that they've seen every side of each other, told every possible lie. Even if Francis did find some shit in Arthur's office, political secrets or otherwise -- what of it? They've planned enough conspiracies with and against each other that short of "I'm plotting a second invasion of Paris with Germany," there's really nothing they can't just scream at each other a little about and then brush off.

Basically what I'm saying is I like my fruk super domestic. But I also like my fruk highkey dramatic. One of the periods in their relationship I think about a lot is right before the American and French Revolutions (Louis XIV era), when I hc that they were in a nearly-entirely-committed, almost-honeymoon-like relationship. This comes from one fic i read that I can no longer find or remember, but where Arthur stays at Versailles for a couple years as the official English Ambassador and they begin a *clandestine* romance that's only half clandestine. This is a time when they were well and truly in love and not afraid to say it -- it was a time when they almost believed they could work out, fairy-tale style. But then the American revolution begins and Arthur is devastated, furious, accusing, betrayed -- they have an explosive fight and their relationship slides right back to hundred years war level hatred for the next century, culminating with Napoleon. The only difference from before is that now Arthur's anger is tinged with a desperate grief ("how could you do this again when you know i love you") and Francis' resentment now has a hint of despair ("I knew we couldn't last, the world is proving me right and i hate it.")

Their relationship slowly, glacially recovers after europe boots Napoleon. In fact, besides a couple proxy wars and shouting matches, the Napoleonic Wars was England and France's last major conflict to date. This coincides with the gradual worsening of Gabriel and Arthur's relationship in the 1900s. At this point Arthur wasn't actually trying to replace Gabriel, and in fact was still deep in denial about his feelings for Francis, but it certainly seemed to Gabriel as if he was being pushed out of Arthur's life and that Did Not Help Anything Whatsoever. Francis, for his part, was incredibly hesitant to push in part because of his lingering fear that they just weren't meant to be, and in part because he actually felt guilty that he was worsening Arthur's relationship with Gabriel, the loss of whom he knew would kill Arthur inside.

I realize I'm going on again so I'll end by saying that now, Francis and Arthur still sometimes have their dramatic moments of "oh shit I'm in love with him, the fuck?" even though the set-piece battles are over. When Francis delivers a particularly elegant speech, for example, or actually puts that mind and sharp tongue of his to work in a pitched negotiation. When Arthur surprises Francis with a weekend getaway, complete with a boat, flowers, and lots of cute blushing and blustering. Or when one of them is seriously ill, overworked, or hurt; when something just snaps one day and all their nightmares catch up to them -- the cold fear and sleepless worry are all reminders of how deep their feelings run, even if they don't constantly make themselves known.

[needcake]

tag game for funsies; look up “flowers”, “plushie”, “aesthetic outfit” & “your own name” and pick the first one that comes up to get your vibe

Tagging: @helianskies @maivalkov @rainbowfruitpastilles @loadthebases @spikeface

@suniah help sunaira yours is too cute! ily thank you for the tag <3

tag game for my pookies; look up “flowers”, “plushie”, “aesthetic outfit” & “your own name” and pick the first one that comes up to get your vibe 🩷🎀

npt- @adrakwaalichai @wizardcherryblossom @sailing-forth @kamariya @milkteawithrusk

@artcinemas @mazhai @antiquititties @alliyambal @spiceandtealeaves

@bypatia and anyone else!

[needcake]

Tagged by @yumi-eleanorus ❤️❤️

5 boring things

1. I've been cutting down my drinking since the pandemic

2. Tropic Thunder is one of my comfort movies (because it's so outrageously absurd)

3. I hate having cold wet feet

4. I love cooking but I hate following recipes, so I'm a big fan of intuitive cooking lol

5. I buy way more books then I can read

Tagging @maivalkov @helianskies @rainbowfruitpastilles @loadthebases and anyone else who wants it!

[sketchytea]

I've been a fan of your work for years and I just want to tell you that one: it is utterly incredible and is better and better with every image you post, and TWO: it makes me so gloriously happy whenever I stumble across your work again, like a nostalgic hug

Thank you for all of your hard work!! ❤

ohh my god! (〃´ﾉω`〃)

i was so excited to see a longtime mutual sending me something and this completely made my day ❤ thank you this is so nice of you!!

thank you for following me after all this time and all the chaotic variety of things i post LOL i'm so happy to hear that my stuff makes you happy and i hope i can continue to do that!

[shachaai]

Because I am infinitely curious and in awe of your writing I'd love to ask: what's your favourite thing that you've written, and why?

(Hope you're well!)

It took me a little while of thinking about it and it's probably a cop-out, but I don't have a favourite. I think I'm 'between loves' at the moment, and I'm certainly experiencing a little disconnect with a lot of own works, but, uh, I guess I really feel that I just don't have any one work that people can read and go 'yes, this is Shacha'.

[a-luran]

I am always happy to distract you from work: 5, 12, and 46 😘

ty! <3

I didn’t know if you preferred England or France so I went with Arthur for now (I hope that’s alright xx).

Describe your muse’s worst nightmare?

There are so many things that haunt Arthur, each a nightmare in their own right. But there is one, especially, that has a firm grip on him:

Fire.

Arthur is terrified of fire.

Of all the ways he’s died, all the painful, drawn-out horrors, it is fire. Charring skin, burning all oxygen out of your lungs. The smoke, the terror, the struggle— the stake, a ship’s bow, the locked door of a burning room.

There are days when he can’t bear to work the stove or start the oven. Candles are snuffed out twice, just to be safe, and Arthur stands by sometimes even then. Watching the dregs of smoke curl and fade into the dark corners of the ceiling.

It’s on nights like this that he smothers the fire in the hearth instead of banking it; leaves a window cracked despite the cold and damp. Just in case.

Just in case.

12. What are some warning signs that your muse is getting depressed?

It starts with cold, sneaking in like a breeze. Arthur shrugs on a thicker jumper and gets on with the day. Holds on to the warmth of a mug of tea a little too long, until it goes cold in his hands and bitter on his tongue.

Then it’s sharpness. He’s short with the people around him, worst of all with those closest to him ( and far worse, always, with himself). He starts skipping meals in favour of caffeine, starts losing sleep. Gets angry, cracks a bowl against the faucet in the sink. Shatters a teacup on the floor. Sweeps it up with a tired sigh and hates himself enough that he’s half-tempted to clench his fist with a shard between his fingers.

He stops taking Francis’ calls. Regrets it. Works longer hours and tells himself that he keeps forgetting his gloves and scarf at home because he’s been feeling scattered. His knuckles hurt, in the cold. His wrist too, and a scar on the nape of his neck.

It’s how it starts. Breaking things on purpose and letting the sharp edges dig into what little softness he has let himself keep.

46 What is your muse’s first thought upon waking up?

On good days— nothing.

Arthur is someone who is always thinking of something. Hard to turn off, that sharp mind of his. But very early in the morning, when he first wakes, there's a breath of silence. He feels the pillow under his head and the weight of the duvet. Warmth. It’s one of the earliest comforts any of us know. And a good thing to wake to, when it’s early, and drizzle taps against the window.

[aphreblogs]

I can't remember if I've messaged you this already but your art is perfect, your fruk is fabulous, and I'm going feral for it all 🙏🙏

Thank you for the joyous gifts!

afkdfkds no thank YOU!!! 💕💕💕 i'm glad we can all enjoy these disgusting old men together