Chapter 7: An Inability to Say a Gentlemanly Goodbye

Arthur woke to light streaming into his room and the sounds of birds. His body felt stiff and sore, and his eyes swollen. His rolled and stretched and rubbed trying to get the exhaustion out of his system. The bird chirping picked up again, sounding oddly loud. Arthur peaked out of his covers to see that he never closed his window or blinds the night before.

He muttered a string of curses as he got out of bed and latched the window close. The sun was still rising. The bright golden light and birds singing their good morning song should have felt pleasant, but it mostly annoyed Arthur. What a crappy day for good weather. He opened and closed his sore hands while he got dressed and prepared himself to go downstairs for breakfast. Despite everything that happened the evening and night before, he had to go back to being the perfect young gentleman. No excuses.

Somehow, Arthur was able to reintegrate himself into his family despite all recent events. The ease of filling his role so inconspicuously felt unnerving. So much had changed for him recently, yet, all seemed to be unnoticed by his family. They may have been choosing not to acknowledge their concern. At one point in the morning, Arthur caught his mom eyeing his hands, but she did not ask any questions. Like Arthur, they prefered to avoid confrontation when it could be avoided. Plus, Arthur was a teenager, so they could also just be accepting any strangeness as average teenage things.

Although the family navigated around each other this way, they still pushed for familial closeness. That is why Arthur found himself in the kitchen eating lunch with his mom and brothers. Scott ate his food fast, but at a speed where you couldn't tell if he wanted to leave or just was starving. After spending enough time with Scott, Arthur knew it was the former, but no one ever wanted to offend their mom. Walt ate at a normal pace, chatting with the group. Arthur picked at his food. He hadn't been hungry as much recently but knew it would cause unwanted attention if he didn't eat. His mom beamed, glad to spend time with the boys.

Once Scott finished his food and left, Arthur's mom turned to him.

"I'm glad you've been taking Walt's news well. I was worried you'd be sad about it, since you both are so close."

Walt began shaking his head no vehemently.

Confused Arthur said, "What are you talking about?"

Their mom looked between them surprised and guilty. "Oh! It's getting so close, Walt, I thought you talked about it already."

"Haven't had the chance, mom," Walt sighed.

"Sorry, hun, but you really should have by now." She gave him a significant mom look that said without words, "you getter get on that, then," grabbed their plates, and went in the kitchen to clean up.

"Finally free to talk, Artie?" Walt asked lightly.

Arthur nodded unsure. At the response, Walt signaled that they go upstairs. Once in Walt's room, he closed the door and sat down against the bed, patting a space for Arthur who hesitated before sitting as well.

"Want to talk about anything?" Walt asked sincerely.

"Aren't you the one with something to share," Arthur accused.

"Yeah, and I will. I wanted to ask. You've been off recently."

"That's your opinion."

"Want to talk about what happened to your hands?"

Arthur sighed and closed his hands into fists. He really didn't.

Walt watched Arthur intently. "Okay, I mean tell me what happened to your hands because I am not above beating on people who hurt my brother."

Arthur laughed both at how ridiculous his brother was and at the idea of Walt having to beat him up.

"No need. I had a fight with a brick wall."

Walt snorted.

Arthur grinned and waved his hands. "You should see the other guy."

Walt grabbed one of Arthur's hands to inspect his knuckles. They were scratched and bruised, but could have been much worse. Definitely not the hands you'd expect a nerdy teen to weild.

Walt prodded casually, "Did it have anything to do with the number you got the other night?"

Arthur forcibly took his hand back. He forgot Walt had seen that and responded defiantly, "Actually, no."

"You can talk to me about it. I won't tell mom and dad."

Arthur sat stiffly. This was what he was waiting for: someone to reach out. This was his chance. Not tell mom and dad had to mean Walt knew something and would keep his secret. All Arthur needed was to talk to someone who would keep his secret and not push him. But if Walt really knew, wouldn't he have shared about himself by now? Scott could have been lying, but that seemed unlikely considering how serious Scott had been. Plus, if everything their parents did actually worked on Walt like he said, then, wouldn't Walt just tell Arthur to do the same thing. He already knew it wouldn't work. There was no changing what he was.

Considering Arthur's rigidness and lack of immediate response, Walt continued, "People sneak out all the time."

"What?"

Walt gave Arthur an empathetic look. "I know you snuck out the other night. I'm just saying I'm here if you want to share anything."

"Aren't you the one with things to share?" Arthur quipped back.

Walt grinned, distracted by the excitement of his own news. "Yes. Yes I am."

"Well, on with it."

"I'm going to Wales."

Arthur blinked. "Wales?"

Walt beamed. "Yes!"

"You're very excited for something like a visit to Wales."

Walt shook his head. Arthur wasn't getting it. "It's not just a visit, Arthur. I applied to this special science program. I'll go to school there and can assist on these experiment things. I'm going to help conduct research on sheep!"

Arthur chuckled at Walt's excitement. He may have been the only person in the world to get excited about the prospect of working with sheep.

"So, you're going to be in Wales the rest of the summer? That's not a lot of time for sheep studies."

Walt rubbed at his face. "That's the thing. It's not for the rest of the summer."

Arthur felt his heart stuttering. He knew what was happening but didn't want to acknowledge it. Walt was the only person keeping him sane here. Yes, there had been tension recently, but Walt was still his number one. He needed Walt. He couldn't do this. He didn't want to be forced to listen to Walt's clarification.

"It's for the year."

Clenching his fists on his knees, Arthur tried to hide his anger. "Great. That's… really great for you."

"I know it'll be different around here, but it's a great opportunity. We can talk on the phone and write. You can write to me about everything happening to you, and no one can overhear and…" He dragged off at the look Arthur's face was taking.

A knot was forming in Arthur's throat. He wouldn't cry. He wouldn't let Walt know how much it hurt. He couldn't ruin something great for his favorite person. He was just caught off guard. He'd been such an idiot. Why had he decided to avoid Walt of all people? Walt never judged him and was always such a solace. Maybe he wouldn't have needed the disruption of sneaking out, if he had been spending time with Walt. His brother always knew what to say as if he knew what was wrong with Arthur without it actually being known. His eyes watered, but he kept the tears at bay.

Crying felt ridiculous, but he had been under such emotional stress, his body needed to release it somehow. The back and forth of the internal struggle he kept hidden away was starting to break out. The conversation was already off the rails. If there was any time to go for gold, now was the time.

"Anything," Arthur's voice cracked but he swallowed able to maintain it's steadiness, "Anything else you want to tell me? Anything about you?"

Walt looked at Arthur intently. "I promise I'm not leaving you behind, Arthur."

Arthur blinked fast to keep tears inside his head where they belonged. "That's not… Not really what I meant."

Walt rubbed at his face. For once, he looked confused. Arthur couldn't remember the last time that he ever looked like that. Walt was the person who seemed to know everything. He always had answers and knowledge. He was the smartest person Arthur has ever known. Yet, here he was being confused by Arthur.

"Arthur, are you sure nothing's been happening with you? I can't really read between the lines. I… I can't postpone leaving, but we can double down on the time left."

Arthur froze. There really wasn't much time left, even if Walt left exactly when school started. Programs away from home usually required you to move in early. God, it could be only a week or two before he was gone. The fact that Walt was okay waiting this long to say anything was appalling. Arthur looked at Walt to try to read his face, but noticed his brother was once again looking at the cuts on his hands.

Rubbing his knuckles Arthur muttered, "The brick was kind of rough."

They made eye contact. How could Arthur forget that one of Walt's talents was communicating with just looks. He must have inherited it from their mom. The look felt serious, not harsh, just a serious and comforting gaze, a silent opportunity to say more.

"I forgot you saw the number."

Walt raised an eyebrow. "I notice things." They sat for a moment before Walt rolled his eyes and moved his hand, an invitation for Arthur to keep talking.

"What do you think I've been up to?" Arthur was always keen to know what others thought of him. Right now, he wanted Walt to talk rather than share.

"Come on, you don't want me to start making random guesses." Looked like Arthur was not getting away with remaining silent.

With a deep breath, Arthur confessed, "It was a friend's. I'm joining a band." Sometimes, some honesty was best to hide the things you don't want to talk about. In the many years that followed, Arthur looked back on this choice. He will look back on the decision to derail the conversation and not share his struggles. Like the decision to go out that night, this is one he will not be able to forget easily - choosing to say the one truth that could distract from any real confession just because he was frustrated with how Walt was not sharing his own experiences when given the opportunity.

That is what he will feel, but, then, he did not feel those things. Then, Walt laughed. He laughed with his entire body, head tilted towards the ceiling. Arthur flushed thinking, "And Walt wondered why I don't share more often."

"Arthur, our very own rockstar."

"It's not funny."

"No, it's not. I'm laughing because it's unexpected. Out of anything you were going to say, I was not expecting you to say you were joining a band. That's definitely worth sneaking out for."

Arthur wondered what Walt had been expecting him to share, but didn't draw attention to the slip. Instead he clarified, "Don't get too excited. I just offered to write some songs. This guy's singer is gone, and I'm going to help out."

Walt beamed, "That's so great. I'm glad you finally found an outlet."

"Finally?" Arthur questioned. Walt paused, his grin slipping away. "Finally found an outlet?"

"Everyone needs an outlet."

"I have a creative outlet," Arthur claimed assuming what his brother could mean by outlet.

"From the family?"

"It's away from the family."

"Don't do this."

"Do what?"

"Pick a fight! You always pick fights when you're defensive."

"Oh, and I'm defensive about extracurriculars now?"

"Who knows? Did those extracurriculars make you beat the shit out of walls?"

Arthur's eyes widened. He inhaled seething. "If you cared so much you wouldn't be leaving like this." He wanted to let out anger with each word, but by the end of the sentence, he just sounded sad and broken.

"It's a good opportunity," Walt stated not looking at Arthur.

"One you waited to tell me."

Walt sighed, "I was waiting for the right moment."

"No. I remember what mom said. You were worried your crazy brother Arthur would lose his shit, and you didn't want to be around the trainwreck for longer than necessary." Arthur stood up. He lifted his arms. "Here's your fucking wish. You won't have to deal with my bullshit for your last week."

Before Walt could think of something to say, Arthur spun on his feet and slammed the door behind him, leaving Walt sitting on the floor stunned.

Entering his room Arthur paused. He didn't want to stay here. Staying meant that someone would come in, try to talk to him, make him feel even more like shit, make him apologize and on and on and on. No. He was leaving. He grabbed a few things, stuffed them in a bag, and left. He ignored everyone as he ran down the stairs and bolted out the door.

Outside, he let his feet lead, so that his mind could wander.

Everything was dumb. Arthur was dumb. His brother was dumb. His entire family was dumb. He can't believe that he was some codependent idiot. His entire family had known about Walt's opportunity and chose not to say anything to Arthur. They all must think he's some kind of fucked up black sheep barely holding on.

Arthur mentally scoffed. It was true. He was a deformed black sheep trying to fit in with the best of the flock. Yet, he always thought he got away with it. He was an idiot. Walt knew about him sneaking out. For all he knows, everyone knew about everything. They were playing him hoping for the day he figured his shit out. That day wouldn't come. Some things could not be figured out. Some things could not be changed. At this point, he was better off being everything they thought he was, a complete fuck up.

He wanted to punch something, but also wanted to curl up into a ball and cry. He may be insanely pissed at Walt, but he also needed his brother. He was one of the few people in the world that kept him grounded. When Arthur felt like he didn't fit in, Walt was there. When he was falling apart, Walt could usually pick up the pieces enough for Arthur to finish the job without even having th hear the problem. Walt got him, and now he is leaving. He was leaving and was going to try to leave without letting Arthur know.

Arthur wiped his face and pulled at his hair. He wasn't close to a lot of people, and didn't have many friends. This shouldn't be a big deal, but it was. Walt was one of the few people that could make him feel better recently. Arthur paused. There was another time he was able to calm down. He shook the thought off. He'd think about it later. Instead, he continued walking and dwelling on how pathetic he felt.

After a while, Arthur felt no better, but was getting tired of walking. He took stalk of where he was and stopped walking. He realized where he was instinctually going. His own subconscious was an asshole.

"You've got to be kidding me," Arthur muttered as he sat down on the curb.

He had been walking to Francis's house.

Knowing the route to Francis's house by heart was annoying in of itself considering how little Arthur had actually walked there, especially recently. Going there instinctually at a time like this? Now that was just sad. Arthur sighed into his knees.

He could go. Francis would definitely cheer him up. He always had a way of making Arthur feel welcome and good. The problem was that Francis liked to talk about and try to address all Arthur's problems headon, and Francis could not fix them. Arthur couldn't even fix them. They both viewed his problems very differently. Still, he could go to Francis's house.

Arthur lingered on the curb. As tempting as it was, going didn't feel like a good idea. When Arthur closed his eyes, he saw Francis at the disco; he saw Francis after their fight. Arthur kept hurting Francis anyways. Probably best to stay away. Besides, who knows if they were even friends after this. Arthur could only be an asshole for so long before Francis understood that he wasn't worth the time.

No matter how much time passed, Arthur did not want to go home. Going home meant putting on a mask and pretending things were fine. He didn't have the energy. He needed to get his mind off his flaws and spend some time relaxing. He needed something to help calm him down and give him a break.

He stood up. Might as well go see someone who could help. He began walking.

Finding his way to the pub got easier every time. Getting in was also easier. Downing a drink or two? Now, that was the easiest thing of all. What was hard was finding who Arthur was looking for. A tall, slavic man should be easy to spot, if only Arthur knew where he was. When he last talked to Ivan, he did not take into account that he would actually want to find the man again. The conversation seemed like a one time thing, but many things that seemed like one time things were turning out to be much more recently.

Ivan was here the first night, if he lingered, maybe he'd see him again. Not running into Ivan wasn't the end of the world. There were drinks to be had as long as Arthur had money. Being a lightweight was good in instances like this. Drinks aside, the wait was good because it gave Arthur time to think of what to say.

He could imagine it. "Yes, Mr. Ivan, sir, do you have any of the drugs that will make me not feel like this?"

He definitely could come up with something better. For now, he'd enjoy being away from everyone that knew him.

Arthur had no idea how much time passed when he caught sight of Ivan. The man was chatting with the same Asian person Arthur saw him with before. Maybe they were together, but then again, maybe not. Arthur watched from a distance. He didn't like the idea of interrupting. Ivan seemed nice, but an air of business surrounded the possible ordeal. Luckily, he didn't have to decide because Ivan made eye contact with him. As if the pleasant grin was a magnet, Arthur felt himself pulled to where Ivan and his friend were standing.

"Arthur! It is nice to see you, again." Ivan exclaimed. His friend peered at Arthur curiously.

"Nice seeing you too." Arthur turned towards the friend and put out a hand. "I'm Arthur."

The friend took his hand and shook it with equal strength. "Yoa."

Arthur nodded, mentally acknowledging his failed attempt at using a name to help dictate gender.

"How are you doing, Arthur? Taking better care of your hands?"

Arthur scratched at his head. "Actually, about that…"

Ivan tilted to look at Arthur's hand as if he believed Arthur was actually fighting walls again. Arthur brushed the still healing cuts on his knuckles subconsciously.

Arthur continued, "I've been having a bad time again, and I thought you could help like before."

Ivan's eyes lit up. "Better than before." He looked around briefly before leaning in. "What can I help you with?"

Arthur shrugged. "I don't know for sure. I feel like shit and need something to not feel like shit."

Ivan laughed. "I like the honesty."

"A few drinks will do that to you."

"Indeed." Ivan seemed to think for a moment. "I keep my promises, and I said this will be free. Any other time, it'll cost you something."

"I understand, so… there's no time to start something new like the present."

The grin that grew on Ivan's face didn't look nearly as pleasant as before. Yao crossed their arms and spoke up, "Just give him what you have, and teach him to do it. We don't have all night."

"Teach me?"

Yao rolled his eyes. "You look young. If you want to sneak back to where you came from and not advertise what you've been up to, maybe don't smoke it?"

Ivan chuckled and commented to his friend, "Smart." Yoa just gestured at Arthur with a significant look.

"I was not prepared for you, so you'll just have to take what I have. Not a lot of options right now," Ivan stated while Arthur nodded along. "Follow me." Ivan gestured for Arthur to follow by pointing to the bathroom. Arthur had a brief flashback to Torris's friend, Raivis but quickly shook it away. He needed this and was done listening to everyone else.

He found himself standing next to Ivan in the largest stall. He stood with his arms crossed. The fluorescent light in the bathroom buzzed lightly like a distant warning. The flood of light sobered Arthur up enough to make his nerves come back with full force. Ivan was digging through his massive coat for something, a look of concentration on his face. After a moment he pulled out a needle.

"This was prepped for someone else, but if you are late, you don't get what you want," Ivan said.

Arthur shook his head and let out a breath. "I don't know if I can do that. That's a lot more than I was expecting."

Ivan tilted his head. "It is not that much."

"No, I'm talking about the whole needle thing."

Now, Ivan shook his head. "The things I have to snort are for someone else who might actually be on time and is paying. Right now, I can just give you this for free."

Arthur bit his lip and eyed the syringe. He wanted to something, and, at this point, did he really care what happened to his body? He nodded slowly. "Okay, yeah."

Ivan smiled in his pleasant way. "Great! Let's sit and give me your arm."

Arthur never liked shots much. The pinch of the needle was almost too much, but after everything he's been through, he barely acknowledged the sting now. He was more focused on the almost clear liquid being pushed into his skin and on the words Ivan was saying about the process of doing it. The last thing he ever expected was for a drug dealer to be a good teacher.

The whole thing took no more than a minute. Ivan leaned against the wall explaining, "And now we wait a few minutes."

Arthur inspected his arm for a moment. He shot an inquisitive gaze at the man who was choosing to stay and sit with him. "Why do you do this?"

"I think people should be allowed to do what they please to make themselves feel the way they want."

"I meant why do you just give things away like this? You don't have to stay, but you are."

"I find that doing this is a way to make friends and make sure they don't leave." There was something deeper behind what Ivan was saying, and Arthur could read between the lines. An unhealthy coping mechanism supplying other people's unhealthy coping mechanisms and the world goes round and round.

"You are friendly. You've been very friendly."

That sat in silence for a moment. Arthur felt his blood rushing under his skin. He was tired earlier but now was starting to feel energized. Ivan was so nice to do this. God, he was really nice. Arthur shifted. The ground was comfortable enough, but the light was starting to feel a bit much.

"You are fucking awesome. This is great." Arthur broke up in a laugh making Ivan chuckle.

"Feels better, right?"

"You have no idea." Arthur sighed and slumped a little sinking into the euphoric feeling. Psychically, he felt great, too. The thrumming under his skin was nice, and complimented the rush in his brain nicely.

Arthur began to tell Ivan more about how great this was and how the man was good for doing this for him.

Ivan cut in, "I am not unselfish. It's always fun to see how people react, and, like I said, it helps keep friends close. Plus, you'll owe me next time."

Arthur turned to look at Ivan with a grin. The slavic man was now sitting flush against him. Arthur could tell he was coming nicely into his high and that this was something he would want to feel again.

"What will I owe you?" Arthur breathed heavily. He shifted to adjust himself in his pants. He felt good.

Ivan ran a hand down Arthur's arm and watched the boy shiver with a dark gaze. "We can figure something out when the time comes, yes?"

Arthur nodded. His mouth was dry. He moved his tongue around as if that would help with the feeling, but all it did was make it worse. Not having the brainpower to care how he looked in front of Ivan, he reached into his pants. While he was making himself more comfortable, he squeezed with a groan. His eyes met Ivan who looked at him with a hungry gaze.

"That stuff makes me feel amazing," Arthur sighed slowly dragging his hand from his pants. He smirked at the was Ivan's eyes followed the movement. Finally, he let himself enjoy a moment like this - holding the attention of another man, being considered attractive, feeling the power of it.

A click echoed around the room as someone else stumbled into the bathroom. Ivan's eyes flicked away from Arthur, now dark with annoyance.

"We might want to go back out before you come down. It doesn't last that long."

Arthur nodded and stood to follow Ivan out. The man at the urinal gave them an amused look, but said nothing. The dimness of the bar felt amazing on Arthur's eyes. He hadn't realized how much the lighting in the bathroom was bugging him. While they were in the bathroom, the bar had become busy and a band had started a set.

He lingered around Ivan for a while longer chatting. Ivan let him know a few of the places he hangs around in case Arthur wanted to find him again. Arthur preened when Ivan called him clever for finding him so easily. Being complimented by a stranger so openly filled Arthur's chest with a puffy feeling as if someone was spinning cotton candy in the gaping holes he normally felt inside himself. All the good feelings could have been the drugs and alcohol, but maybe it was the atmosphere and company.

As the high seemed to peak and sway, Arthur decided he might as well go back to drinking. He offered to buy one for Ivan, but the man shook his head and claimed he should get going because he had to meet the guy who wanted the cocaine Arthur took. Arthur laughed along with Ivan despite not really finding anything funny.

They separated. Arthur got his drink, and the rest of the night was a blur of events he got to reflect on on the walk home.

Most of his reflecting took place in the back garden. The grass crunched under his pacing feet. His unlocked window mocked him from above. If he was going to make a habit out of this, he was going to sneak properly and use the window. He shook out his arms and slapped his face as if all the chemicals could be forced out of him with a few harsh pats.

He sat against the tree deciding to let time do some of the sobering. Guilt from everything that happened started to seep into him. All the puffy feelings from before were turning into a thick, heavy mush weighing him down. He should be regretting it. He knew he should, but he couldn't get himself to. For the first time in a long time, he had felt good.

He dragged his hand over his face pausing at his lips. He made out with a guy at the bar, and barely remembered it. What a joke: finally letting himself to give in and barely remembering what should have been a big moment. As much as he hated when Francis predicted things about him, the other teen was right about Arthur being a closet romantic. He tried to push out thoughts of Francis and focus on his blurred memories of the other boy at the bar.

He knows he made some move, did some shots, and that they ended up sloppily in a corner, but his brain couldn't focus on most of the details. He felt like he betrayed a part of himself, the part that actually was enjoying reading Pride and Prejudice and wanted to be able to wax poetic about his love life the same way. Shoving his tongue down the throat of a stranger in a bar while some band thrashed about to a song about anarchism didn't fit the mental picture.

Mental images were just fantasy, and fantasies were bullshit. He liked everything that happened. There was a special rush about hooking up with a stranger, with a guy. Arthur closed his eyes. He felt the rough lips of the other boy against his. The way the other felt in his arm. How their bodies felt slotted together: sweaty, rough, and hard. The way his skin vibrated as the other groaned against him. Maybe some things that are wrong are meant to be. The scene was not pristine or romantic, but Arthur thought he could write notebooks full of poems about the way it made him feel. Recently, he had been letting feelings lead, so maybe he should try to judge himself less on the visuals and more on the intangibles.

Arthur opened his eyes to look at his house. He thought of the four people sleeping inside, soon to be three. He did so much for their sake, sacrificed so much of himself and his happiness and for what? Appearances were only worth so much. Yet, the reasons he always gave himself started creeping up from the back of his mind. There's always a reason for everything.

Swaying as he stood, Arthur began the feat of climbing up to the roof and into his bedroom. He stripped his sweaty clothes off, closed his cracked window, and fell into bed. The night made him feel good, and he would hold onto that.

The house woke up while Arthur remained sleeping, but this time, the curtains were closed so that the sun wouldn't wake him up. Instead, a brother's presence woke him up. Arthur blinked the sleep away from his eyes and groaned as he tossed and turned. His head was pounding and his mouth tasted like shit, nothing like the boy from the bar. This is what he deserved for doing all that. He sat up with a sigh rubbing his head and face.

"Holy fuck," Arthur scrambled in surprise at the figure sitting at his desk. "Dude, what the fuck?"

Walt had the decency to look embarrassed. "I didn't think you came home last night. I came in here to think, and," he gestured lames at the shirtless Arthur in bed, "I wasn't sure how to wake you up after everything."

Arthur nodded along and kept stretching trying to wake himself up more. At least now he knew the window sneaking was working. "I snuck back in pretty late."

"You okay?"

Arthur barked a laugh. "You really want to ask that right now?"

"I want to try talking again if you're into it."

"I don't know if I'm into it, but we probably should."

Walt shifted in the chair as if preparing to speak, but Arthur raised a hand to stop him.

"We should, but I just woke up. Can you wait for me to shower and put on some clothes? I don't want to have a serious conversation half naked. Plus, I smell, and my mouth tastes like absolute garbage."

Walt laughed at the face Arthur pulled and stood up. "Okay, yeah, sure. Just promise you won't run off on me."

Arthur gave him an okay. At the click of the door closing, he fell back into the bed. He could not catch a break, could he?

A/N: Yay! New chapter! Sorry about the wait - I moved and got a dog. Also I'm still having trouble coming up with the content of Arthur's notebooks, and it'll be important soon, so I'm trying to stretch the chapters I have written.

Do you guys read hetalia fics other places regularly? I'm considering uploading in multiple places but can't tell if the fandom actually is more active on something like AO3 or not. Double Also, I want to post some newer (shorter) stories to celebrate the 15th anniversary of the show if anyone has requests/pairing requests. (I used to do the kink meme and was going to fill a ton of requests there, but there doesn't seem to be an active one)

See ya'll soon!