#AO3 draft date bug

[uncleasad]

New Userscript to Work Around AO3 Drafts Date Bug!

I think anyone who has ever used AO3 drafts for a work or chapter (even just to finish posting the next day) has been bitten by the long-standing bug where works/chapters started as drafts keep the draft creation date as the publication date unless you (remember to) manually change it before publication, often resulting in a work or chapter being published several days in the past 😳 (Not great in active fandoms/tags!)

Having stumbled across this bug once again recently, I asked escctrl (the author of the other AO3 userscripts I raved about recently) if it was possible to do anything via userscript to help us avoid falling victim to this bug.

escctrl responded with AO3: Warn for Old Publication Date on Drafts, which places a warning next to the Post button on work/chapter drafts and includes a button to automatically update the old date to today’s date. It feels so slick!

Big thanks to escctrl for making this possible! 🙏

Uncle Asad, this sounds useful, but what’s a userscript?!

More info under the cut if you’re not familiar with userscripts…

Userscripts are third-party JavaScripts (code written not by the author of the web page and not by you) that are run on specified web pages (here, on AO3) to modify the page in some way. The scripts require you to have an userscript extension installed in your browser, and the extension tells the browser to run any scripts you have installed. (You might have heard of “Greasemonkey scripts”—Greasemonkey was the first userscript extension.)

Obligatory Warning

Userscripts are third-party JavaScripts that have access to anything on a given web page, can load other JavaScripts, steal your information, and so forth. Never install a userscript you don’t trust.

I Understand the Danger; Tell Me What I Need to Do!

First, make sure you have a “userscript manager” extension installed in your browser.

The original userscript extension, Greasemonkey, is available for Firefox and derivatives.

Tampermonkey is available for multiple browsers on multiple desktop and mobiles OSes.

userscripts is available for Safari on Mac and iOS.

There are others, too.

After you’ve installed your userscript manager extension, hop on over to greasyfork.org (a website hosting userscripts written by hundreds of different people) and add this script: AO3: Warn for Old Publication Date on Drafts

(Consult the documentation for your userscript extension for help on installing scripts.)

escctrl has an extensive list of other AO3 scripts you might find useful, including the three I mentioned in my prior post.

Happy Never-Again-Accidentally-Posting-A-Fic-In-The-Past to you! 👏

[fountainpenguin]

hiii new reader here! I'm loving your neighborhood watch au :) I have a question though, what's up with all the hidden fics if you don't mind answering?

Thanks, I'm glad you're enjoying it! I'm hoping to post more for that AU during 2025; working on the buffer this winter :) Next up should be "Goodchild Oscar," which I started a long time ago and have been itching to share. I love NW AU so much...

And good question! My hidden fics are in an unrevealed collection called Riddle WIPs:

Hidden works are my drafts, but in a way that prevents them from being auto-deleted by AO3 after 30 days (i.e. the way AO3's actual draft feature does).

Keeping my works in this unrevealed collection lets me see everything, organize everything, link them to other works, prep my tags in advance, and do my color-coding HTML in advance (for works that use the green/yellow/red name system for life colors). Multi-chapter works also get their spoiler dropdown boxes in advance too.

This is a lifesaver when working with series. I have my works in multiple series, and every time you add one of those (or an inspired work), you have to save/post to refresh the page before you can add another. People who subscribe to a series (as opposed to the story or author) get the notification after a work is posted. I like to make sure my work has all the series attached to it upfront, not just one. It's nice to feel like I have plenty of time to do everything I want for prep purposes without stressing about a 30-day timer.

In short, it's a LOT easier to stick to a weekly upload schedule if all the work on the AO3 side is done in advance and all I need to do is slap the chapter in and post. Here's a draft I prepped last night, for instance:

/slaps his little head - This work can fit SO much body text when I'm done.

On posting night, all I have to do is add the text, change the update date to the day I post, remove it from the unrevealed collection, and presto! People subscribed to any of those series (or to me as an author) get the notifications :) Huge time-saver that lets me keep my regular update schedule.

If you check that publish date, you can see I actually made this draft in April. I just did the tags and cover art for it last night, as I'd like to get this work posted very soon. It takes me a while to get around to each individual project, but at least I always know where to find them and I can do the parts I have energy for when I have free time.

I just made a spreadsheet this week that links all my docs and AO3 works, so I am living large...

Another reason I do this is because I often have limited Internet access, but I do have offline access to my writing docs. I have a lot of back-and-forth time on the road, and sometimes I finish my writing when I'm away from home. It's so nice to prep the AO3 side in advance while I have a stable Internet connection and mouse instead of doing all that on the trackpad.

[cnt'd - Long post]

Back when I started doing this with hidden works, it was mostly because AO3 had a bug where every time you rearranged a series, you had to manually edit every single work that came after it if you wanted the Previous and Next links to work properly.

And I did. Every time I posted. Because that's how I am. I write a series titled 130 Reasons Why I'm Fairy Trash, which used to be arranged chronologically before I went through and changed them to recommended reading order, and there are 130 one-shots in it. I have tasted so much pain...

In other words, the series feature was great for people posting new works that come "next" in the series, but it wasn't working well for people who like to rearrange the order when they post something new. Ex: I have both the Pixels Imperfect and Neighborhood Watch series in chronological order. Using the unrevealed works, I took the time to arrange all the hidden works in advance so that the timeline was properly arranged regardless of what order I submitted fics in. This way, I only had to dedicate a couple days to getting all my current WIPs prepped and arranged, with the hope being that my links would work properly for a long time before I wrote a new work and had to find a place for it. I have never written a series chronologically in my life and I think it would kill my motivation if I forced myself to do that, honestly.

I'm pretty sure this rearrangement bug was there since I joined AO3 in 2018. Guess what they fixed while I was in the middle of adding all my drafts and arranging them all :'D

This is the best bug fix ever; my crops are watered daily and my skin is clean. I live in constant fear this bug will return and I will once again be relegated to spending hours of an evening painstakingly updating every work that comes later in a series... instead of the 2 seconds it takes to place a work now.

Bonus reason why I like the hidden work feature: I have thousands of documents after my 13+ years of posting fanfics and writing original works, many of which are no longer as up-to-date as posted versions that received minor revisions over the years (like spelling fixes).

It's super nice to have a place on AO3 to keep backups where I can easily find them and not mix them up with my outdated files (which I should clean out, but hesitate to do so because it would take me days).

I do have downloaded backups of all my works as well (Bless FicLab). Went through and did a sweep last month! I will not lose over a decade of my life... I bought a flash drive necklace to slap them on, so they will literally have to pry this stuff from my cold, dead hands.

FFN went down for a week earlier this year and I had a few works that were exclusively on FFN, not yet on AO3, so I was very quick to slap those into my WIPs collection as soon as I could, haha... One of those is 30k words. Yep. Not losing that.

I really wish AO3 would let people use Previous and Next to navigate through a hidden work because it's very obnoxious for me and others who want to click through the series and then we slam into a hidden work, but c'est la vie.

I fear the bug's return with my life, and for this, everyone must click extra times to navigate around the wall.

Fun bonus screenshots of what I see on my end even though these works are hidden for you guys:

Pixels Imperfect #2, baby! ... The first wall you hit if you're trying to read the series by clicking "Next," haha... Oh no.

And some Neighborhood Watch:

The story beats are there! I'm just not yet... but it's a much bigger decision to drop a WIP if you're already "halfway there" because you've got the prep work done. Some people may not want to put that "pressure" on themselves, but I don't mind it. I like seeing the works yet to come so they remind me of how excited I am to get there. They just seem so close...

I'm easing into a hiatus from posting fanfics this winter so I can build my 'fic buffers and post a few one-shots I've had sitting around. Fingers crossed that 2025 will have a lot of NW content. I'm very excited for it and I'm glad you're looking forward to it too!

-> I am so glad NW is only the first 5 Life seasons in the same timeline, because if I had to work Wild Life's mechanics into the worldbuilding, that would be a rough one...

My late-2025 is set up to be extremely busy IRL and the next couple years are sure to be as well, so I'm putting my all into prepping buffers right now. This'll be a lifesaver for me down the road.

[inquartata30]

Parallax

Fandom: Mass Effect Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence, Major Character Death, Minor Character Death, Politics Relationship(s): Lexi T’Perro/OC (Thaia Kallistrate), Benezia/Aethyta, Benezia/Aethyta/Shiala Characters: Lexi T’Perro, Thaia Kallistrate (OC), Aria T’Loak, Matriarch Benezia, Suvi Anwar, Nakmor Drack, Vetra Nyx, Cora Harper, Matriarch Aethyta, Shiala Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, Enemies to Lovers, Fake Dating, Slowburn, Original Characters Summary: 55,000 years ago, the protheans won a Pyrrhic victory over the reapers. From the ashes of the Prothean Republic and the rusting hulks of the reapers, the ancient asari grew into a galaxy-spanning empire. Two people on opposite sides first meet during an abduction that threatens to upend the tenuous armistice between the Asari Empire and the Terminus Systems. Decades later, they face each other again as forced allies and unwitting political pawns when the galaxy’s three major factions collide.

Chapter 1: High Salinity

It was bugging the ever-loving fuck out of her. The dossier Thaia and the rest of her squad had been given indicated that their target, Lexi T’Perro, was a pirate. But Thaia had met a lot of pirates over her centuries of service to the Empire, and Lexi wasn’t anything like any of them. Something was off. And it bugged the fuck out of her. After getting the attention of her squadmates, Thaia gestured toward the smallish cell holding their irate captive. “I’m telling you, she doesn’t look like a pirate.” “Why’s that?” asked Paion, their sniper. She was a Specialist Third Class a couple centuries younger than Thaia, but still had the full set of commando face tattoos like everyone else. Hers were red where Thaia’s were white—the only element of the mandatory tattoos that was theirs to pick. “Pirates don’t usually wear lab coats, for one,” Thaia said. Lexi finally spoke up for the first time since they’d reached the prefab base. “I’m wearing a lab coat because I’m a physician. Tell me, do you each possess one lonely brain cell? Or do you share a single cell between the three of you?” Lovely as Lexi’s voice was, the things she said hurt more than getting fucking shot. “Also,” Thaia said, “pirates usually eviscerate people with sharp knives, not sharp words.” “I’m good with a scalpel. Would you care for a demonstration?” Lexi asked.

Read the rest of Chapter 1 on AO3

Note:

This started with an “enemies to lovers” prompt from@skyllianhamster for Thaia and Lexi. Right after came a ton of brainstorming for a situation that would have these two start as Actual Enemies, which is how this AU was born. Initially, it was supposed to be more Mirror Universe like, but I discovered that the constant dark anxiety of getting backstabbed (often literally) that is the atmosphere of a mirror universe was too much for me to handle. Trust doesn’t really exist there, and I wanted an alternate universe where there could be trust and love that wasn’t practically guaranteed to be duplicitous. Well, once the work’s put in on both sides. So the asari are an Evil Empire, but we aren’t talking something like Star Trek’s Mirror Universe. More like adjacent to it. Some characters are still fundamentally themselves despite changes of circumstance or at first glance (and second or third, in some cases) appearing different from how we know them in whatever canons they exist. Others are absolutely the complete opposite of who they would be in other stories. Matriarch Benezia, Liara, and Skyham’s OC Fejla Na’vis in particular. As in, canon Fejla would burst into tears if she stepped on a bug, which, well. Not at all so much here. This fic was also supposed to be a one shot and so I’d started it on a writing app on my phone. Even though it grew beyond a one shot, its first draft was still exclusively written on my phone, writing time on my laptop being reserved for my main fic.

Anyway, on re-reading it, I figured it’s time to share.

Benezia, Aethya, and Shiala draw from the Trinity (@dr-jekyl and @theivorytowercrumbles) versions of themselves—and then deviate toward mirror universe-type tendencies. Musahir Ordaca and Farizah T’Soni belong to @theivorytowercrumbles, Fejla Na’vis and Nefraellynx T’Sein to@skyllianhamster. While Fejla is the opposite of herself, Nef is more “like she always is, except now she’s trustworthy.” In another AU, Nef once sold an unwitting Thaia a ship she’d stolen from the leader of the Blood Pack—without informing Thaia of the shuttle’s original owner—so this was quite the change.

[pinkbowsandprettyprose]

Just fixed a bug with my latest update of The Way Down where you may not have gotten the notification that it was updated last night.

I had some screwy-ness happen with publishing old draft chapters earlier last year that sometimes adds the wrong publish date to chapters in Ao3.

Consider this your 2nd notif that it’s just been updated :)

[folliesandfolderols]

Writing prompts day 85-86

From this prompt list. If you’ve read this far, I’m not sure you need any explanation, but the short version is I hadn’t written any fiction since 2019, I set a goal to write at least 150 words/day in 2024, and this list was my way to restart. Also I abruptly decided on day 2 I would write an entire Tim/Damian story connecting all the prompts, because I am Good at Judging My Limits. /sarcasm Anyway, I finished the rough draft a while ago and am now unlocking the old entries as I edit.

Read from the beginning here, or on ao3 here.

Day 84 here

***

37. “Now, why don’t we teach you a lesson?”

122. “Let’s take it back to my place.”

***

Damian didn't come over that night, though he did text to ask how patrol had gone. Sort of. The text message actually read, I see no injuries on the notes for tonight so I assume you are well. But it came down to the same thing. Tim replied with You assume correctly, and even used a period for good measure. Damian liked the message. Tim fell asleep with a smile on his face.

Jason returned to town the following day, exhausted and grumpy from being on the road, if his video message announcing his arrival were anything to judge by. The three of them agreed to meet at Tim's that night.

“Somebody or some group is running them both,” Jason announced before he'd even sat down in the living room. 

Damian and Tim exchanged a glance, but Tim was the one who replied. “We thought the same thing. Do you have any ideas about who it could be?”

Jason shrugged. “If we're just guessing at names, maybe Black Mask? He likes to get his hands filthy. Or Falcone, he's done it before and he might like the irony of getting the Irish Mob and Bratva under the Mafia banner without either side knowing it.” 

Damian’s pensive frown deepened as he clicked through the documents Jason had shared with him and Tim. “I don't care for guessing games. Too inefficient. We need to interrupt a transport between an entry point and a distribution center here in town, or Metropolis, so we can question our way to the higher-ups.”

“In the past, the harbor shipping containers have been a good place to watch,” Tim offered. “We could split up the next time all three of us are unscheduled and keep an eye out.”

Jason nodded. "I'm all for that. Is there a way we could talk to one of the victims who's here in town, though? Without letting the people running the show know we're this close? I'm sure they're getting rumors of shit going bad in the western parts of the operation, but no one's going to be talking about it with the bosses here if they know what's good for them."

Tim sat up straighter as an idea occurred. "There was one woman who I met the night I—" A sudden sensory memory assailed him: Damian's hands warm on his thighs as he lifted Tim against the closet wall, the embroidery on his suit smooth against Tim's palms. He swallowed and fixed his gaze on his screen. "The night I went to the opera, one of the escorts with Waters seemed to know I was there for another reason. She saw me heading to his office but, judging by the lack of follow-up, I'm guessing she didn't say anything to him. And she did something to the bug I planted on her to stop it from working, so she's pretty savvy. If we can arrange a meeting with her, then she might be willing to give us info."

Damian, apparently unaffected by any flashbacks, rubbed his chin, considering it. "So, catch her while she's out during the day?"

Jason shook his head. "Too risky. Someone might see.”

Damian shrugged. “In that case, I believe it will be more effective if we use our civilian personas to make contact. Perhaps one of us might arrange a date with her."

"It can't be me." Tim twisted his mouth in regret. "Me making contact with her again will make her suspicious if she isn't ready to talk."

"And I'm too officially dead to make the date worthwhile to anyone," Jason said.

They turned their gazes to Damian. He only made them wait for a moment before sighing deeply. "All right. Drake, should I use you as my referral when I contact Waters?"

***

Tim sat at home, watching Damian set up his phone as a surveillance camera in the lounge where he was meeting Katarina. There were also actual cameras which they were piggybacking on, of course, but the phone would give the best point of view. Jason had made the drive to Metropolis to provide closer oversight and backup. Tim was up for patrol, so he would have to watch piecemeal from afar.

"This place is too fucking loud," Jason grumbled from the van where he was sitting.

"Indeed," Damian agreed, pretending to be talking on speaker the way a true douchebag would. "It will be difficult to catch audio without a great deal of filtering the background music and conversation. Clearly Waters wants me to be seen with her. This place is . . . popular." He said the last word in the same tone most people would have used for "a garbage heap."

"Well, I'm guessing it makes it easier to blackmail some targets if they've been seen publicly with the sex workers," Tim said.

Jason's tone sharpened. "Target's approaching. Entering through the front door. Must be a regular. The bouncer didn't even give her a second glance when she went past the line."

"We should look into who owns this place, then." Tim called up the superficial information and started following the names.

The angle of the video feed from Damian's phone swooped and settled again as he swiftly put it into a place better suited to capture Katarina's face. He leaned back, arms spread across the leather back of the half-circle booth in the center of the lounge to which the hostess had instantly directed him. Everyone close to Gotham wanted the reclusive Wayne heir to be seen at their place, even in Metropolis. (Never mind that all of them were technically Wayne heirs, as some excruciating conversations with Bruce's attorneys had made clear. The only one the reporters seemed to want to bother without an appointment was Damian, which was a blessing most of the time for the rest of them.)

Katarina's arrival seemed to be heralded by a surge in the volume of the music, which rendered her greeting as she approached Damian inaudible. Tim frowned and adjusted what he could, but the audio would need considerable cleaning up after tonight if they were going to use any of it.

He had to admit to himself that he was impressed by Damian's acting. The kid was good—body relaxed and welcoming, but confident in the entitled way expected of a man who'd never not been rich and indulged. They were talking, faces betraying only idle interest in one another, but their words remained obscured. When Katarina started moving in closer, Damian captured her hand and raised it to his lips, eyes sparkling wickedly over her knuckles. She laughed, clearly charmed, or at least engaged enough to pretend she was.

Abruptly, Tim realized his heart was hammering. Huh.

With a tiny tug, Damian offset Katarina's balance so that she draped gracefully over his lap and torso with a startled exclamation that didn't sound upset. Instead of chastising him playfully the way Tim expected, she snuggled up closer and let one slender arm wind its way around Damian's shoulders. Damian gave her a lazy grin and traced the line of her dress's zipper down her back, to just above her ass. Their mouths never stopped moving, but the angle was too difficult to allow Tim to read their lips.

Tim zeroed in on Damian's fingertips, rubbing tiny circles into the small of her back, and missed when she started kissing him. The sight of their mouths locked together felt like an electric shock to his nerves. Tim frowned and tried to swallow down the instinctive surge of sick fury that wanted to rise into his throat. Damian was only playing along, that was all. Acting. As they'd all been taught.

It was just that Damian had never seemed that interested in pretending, before now.

Katarina kissed Damian's jawline and paused at his ear to whisper something, while she sucked his earlobe between her teeth. A real multi-tasker, this one. Good thing Damian had removed his comms before all this began. Tim realized he was wringing his hands and forced himself to let go.

"Ha! Got it!" Jason crowed, and the audio went crystal clear, just in time to hear Damian say, “Now, why don't we teach you a lesson?”

Tim's alarm to head for the door and start his patrol sounded. He hastily hit "stop" on his phone screen.

On the video feed, Damian's hand slid lower, past Katarina’s waist, to grab just above her ass and pull her even closer. Something in his face reminded Tim of the way Talia's softened when she looked at Bruce.

Katarina giggled and rose to her feet, withdrawing gracefully from his grasp. “You’ll want privacy for that—I’ve been a very, very bad girl. Finish your drink and let’s take it back to my place. It’s just a few blocks east."

Damian tossed back the remainder of his drink and they started making their way through the lounge. Tim yanked his gaze away and stared, unseeing, at the windows, trying to force his breathing into a recognizable pattern. It was fine. This was undercover work. Damian didn't mean any of it. It was just acting.

His teeth clenched so tight the enamel squeaked. Shoving his hands into his gloves, he stalked toward one of his hidden exits, telling himself all the while that he was overreacting.

day 87 here

[dead-tired-cm]

Pepperoni Punks - Chapter Six

Everything Will Be Okay

————————————

Summary: With finals coming up for Casey along with pulling extra shifts, they start to feel bad for not speanding a lot of time with Raph; leading to an unplanned movie date.

—————————————————

AN: Spoilers for The Lost Boys ig but that’s an old ass movie. I had a lot of fun writing this chapter even though it took over two months to write due to my final exams, being kicked out of my home, mutable breakdowns, ao3 deleting my draft, consent wifi disappearing, and extreme writer’s block.

I tried to correct any misspelling and grammar mistakes. I hope y’all enjoy the last chapter of Pepperoni Punks!^^

—————————————————

It was loud. Too loud. They had left their headphones at the turtles' lair and even if they had them; it wouldn't have helped as their phone was on 9% and they still had about forty minutes till the bell. They only had this class and then they could leave. Where would they go? Casey didn't know, their schedule was all fucked up. They pulled more shifts, studied whenever they could and finals were in a few weeks. Of course everything else in their life would start to spiral. Two of their grades were fs, they had to go to a meeting for their sister's school; so of course their phone finally died when their boyfriend texted. They didn't even get to check their calendar to see if they were on shift tonight. The stress was already getting to them but with their classmates being so loud it was disturbing other classes and the teacher doing nothing; it finally got to them. They couldn't study or focus. They felt like they were gonna throw up. After that observation, everything else was a blur. They ended up in the nurse's office, getting checked out before being sent home.

Of course today was when they decided to get ride from a friend. They were just tired. Casye decided to just call in, luckly their boss would understand. They waited at a bus stop, they had enough and they weren't gonna walk all the way from the school to the lair. They were just sitting at the bus stop, just left with their own thoughts since they couldn't even look at their phone for the time. They just wanted to sleep. Well they mainly wanted to see their partner, maybe it was that they actually felt safe and relaxed with him. They didn't admit it but he was their rock; their person. They were lost in thought which went from thinking about being happy to finally seeing their partner to thinking about how they should be productive. They should at least go to work but how could they if they were on the verge of throwing up. They still feel.. guilty? Casey didn't know, they should've been doing school work while waiting for the bus. What was wrong with them? Why were they feeling sick? There was no stomach bug going around the school or any other thing.

Casey snapped out of their thoughts when they saw the RTD coming up to the stop. They grabbed their bag and got up. They had already had the money in their pocket as they got on and paid. They sat in the back where no one else was. It was just a blur of feeling nauseous, random thoughts that disappeared as quickly as they disappeared, and the occasional old lady every other stop asking if they were okay and offering medicine. Everytime it was, “I’m okay. Thanks m’am”. They didn’t mind the old ladies asking if they were okay, they were always nice to them. Besides that, the bus ride was miserable without any distractions. As they saw their stop coming, they pulled the wire that lined all the windows to signal that a passenger wanted to get off at the next stop. As the bus came to a stop, they made sure that they had their bag and everything. They got up when the bus stopped and the doors opened.

They walked off to the all too familiar alley. They were slightly surprised that the smell of the sewer didn't make them throw up when they entered. Maybe they were just used to the smell. Casey made their way to the lair, a little unervered that the main living area was empty and the whole lair was unusually quiet. That was until they got closer to the dojo where they heard the turtles training. Right, training day. Instead of looking in to see what they were practicing now, they just quietly made their way to Raph’s room. They felt a small smile on their face when they noticed that Raph had put their headphones on the small nightstand along with their phone charger among random hair ties they left there. He had given them a tiny space on the nightstand. It was a small action, a small consideration but it meant a lot. They didn’t know how they would explain it if asked but in that moment it meant a lot. They plugged in their phone and waited til it turned on. They still had to call out and they didn’t want to hear the ‘I told you to take a break’ that would come from their manager. He was a great manager and was friends with Casey. They didn’t worry about getting in trouble or anything, not at all; they didn’t want to hear the lecture about how they shouldn’t overwork themself. Casey ended up on the bed, laying on the side closer to the wall. It was ‘their’ side. It was about two minutes before they started to doze off, they didn’t fight the wave of exhaustion that hit as soon as their head landed on the pillow.

━━━━━

Raph had finished training about twenty minutes after Casey had fallen asleep. It was rather easy that day besides sparring with Leo. That was usually hard since they both were competitive. There weren't any evil plans or foes to stop and he wasn’t the one to go on patrol tonight. “No patrol for me, just training; cya later.” That’s what he had texted Casey earlier and when he checked to see if they had sent anything back; the message wasn’t even read. He thought it was a little weird and took note of it even if it could be easily explained as they hadn’t gotten a notification. He didn’t really have an explanation for when they weren’t in the living room like they usually would on training days. If anything he should be a little worried but he was actually a bit frustrated. Maybe it was because they were supposed to be there, they did make a promise to take a break from studying and a few nights off from work. Raph knew it wasn’t like Casey to break a promise and go back on their word. He knew that Casey would’ve at least sent a text if they were going to not be there until later.

“Dude, yo, earth to Raph!” Mikey practically shouted into Raph’s ear, taping him on the shoulder. He quickly turned to look at his brother. “What? Is someone dying or something?” He asked sarcastically. The younger one punched him lightly, “You were just standing there. Leo offered you tea and you were like lost in thought. Are you good?” Raph didn’t remember Leo asking or even coming up to him. “All good mike. Just tired I guess.” Nothing else was said as Raph moved past Mikey and into the little kitchen . He wasn’t hungry, he never was after training but he was always thirsty. He dodged and ignored when his brothers tried talking to him. He was out of energy for the day. He quickly grabbed two sodas out of the fridge, not checking what flavor and only grabbing two out of habit. He made his way to his room, the door was already cracked open but he didn’t think much about it. He entered quietly, setting down the drinks on one of the random shelves that was hung on the wall slightly above his bed.

Raph noticed that Casey had put their phone to charge in the spot that he gave them on his nightstand. He knew it was a small thing to do, giving your partner their own space on your nightstand should be a given but he had grown up with little personal space and respect for that space. So maybe it was a stupid thing but he knew that Casey would still think it was cute that he had given them some of his oh so precious personal space. He sat down on the bed and grabbed one of the sodas; opening it carefully, not to wake the other up. It was rather quiet in the lair. There was an occasional shout when Donnie would tell Mikey to not mess with stuff in his lab and Leo telling both of them to be quiet. There was always chaos one way or another. Though it wasn’t that bad. He didn’t have anything to do. He read all the new comic issues that Casey had brought him, surprisingly he had cleaned early, and he wasn’t in the mood to fill the silence with the boombox that he and the other shared.

He mainly just stared at the wall in front of him, taking sips of soda here and there. It was when half the soda was gone when he got the idea to play with Casey’s hair. They had told he could when they were sleeping as long as he didn’t tangle it and stuff. Raph had been learning how to do hair from April. He knew the easy hair stuff like pigtails, pony tails, and messy buns. For anyone braids would be on the easy hair stuff list too but it was a bit difficult with turtle fingers. Eventually he had gotten the hang of it. He sat a bit closer to Casey and gently started to braid their hair. He had no plan besides just braiding. This was nice. Just sitting there with his partner, braiding with their hair while they slept with nothing to worry about. No worries about evil plans and foes to stop, only worry about waking up the other if he pulled their hair too hard. This was normal. This was regular teen stuff. ”Regular?” Raph thought. None of this was normal though. For one they were in a bedroom in the sewers. Two, one of them was a fucked up teenager and the other was a fucked up turtle that regularly fought, well, basically fought super villains. But that was normal to them. It was their normal. He snapped out of his thoughts when he noticed that Casey was now looking at him, their head resting on his lap. “I thought you couldn’t braid..” They mumbled through a yawn. Raph smiled, “Learned how to from April.” He finished off the braid with a hair tie.

━━━━━

Casey had actually woken up awhile ago but didn’t want to ruin the moment. The normal, regular moment. “I thought you couldn’t braid..” They mumbled through a yawn. They were still tired but didn’t care. They had gotten enough sleep, must’ve been that sleep debt thing that Donnie had told them about. They noticed how Raph had smiled before talking. “Learned how from April.” Casey hummed, “Hmm, you did a good job.” They touched the braid. It was a little messy, strands of hair sticking out here and there. They let the braid go. “How was training?” They mumbled as they looked up at Raph. Casey noticed some bruising, which must've been from training. “It was okay. I almost beat Leo in a best out of three.” Raph sounded annoyed but not at anyone. It was more of a playful annoyance. “You’ll get him next time.” Casey assured him. They smiled as they felt Raph start taking out the braid. “You could've just left it.” The other just shrugged and played with their hair. “How did you even know that I was training?” He questioned.

Casey took a minute, “I heard it from the dojo when I first came. Phone died when you texted.” Raph just nodded. They knew that he was holding in an “I told you to plug in your phone.” He instead ran his fingers through their hair. It used to be greasy and straight, only curling at the ends but now they took better care of it after their sister made a comment about how it shined in a bad way. Now it was fluffy and soft; curls basically all over the place. It made them happy being able to get it healthy again. It also made them happy to have complete control over something in their life when everything else wasn’t decided by them. “How was school? Get any studying done?” Casey groaned at the question. “It was alright I guess. My last period was killing me. It was soo loud I couldn’t even study or barely focus on anything.” They exaggerated the “oo” part of so just to be dramatic. “I ended up throwing up and getting sent home.”

Raph seemed disappointed but Casey couldn’t really tell what he was feeling when he started to speak there was a hint of concern. “At least you didn’t just push through it.” He continued to run his fingers through their hair, gently pulling curls. “Did you eat anything or was it caused by stress?” He questioned. Casey hadn’t even really thought about what caused it. They only had a burnt piece of toast that morning. They were also so stressed that they were on the verge of having a panic attack at school. They certainly didn’t know what caused it, there were too many factors but ultimately landed on stress to blame. “I guess it was stress. It’s nothing I haven’t dealt with before.” Raph stayed quiet, maybe he wasn’t disappointed. Maybe he was just worried and Casey would admit that they would be worried if the roles were reversed.

━━━━━

After that time didn’t feel like a thing as the two of them just laid there occasionally talking about something before falling into silence. Not an uncomfortable silence, very much the opposite. Raph enjoyed just being able to cuddle and be cheesy with the other. Casey enjoyed the quiet moments where Raph was present, it didn’t matter what or what not they were doing.

━━━━━

“You know, you still haven’t watched Reanimator with me.” Casey said quietly. They didn’t know what time it was but knew that some of the others were asleep. Raph looked down to meet their eyes. “Dude, the way you described the plot made it sound fucking disgusting. I love you so much but it sounds like a fuck awful movie.” There was no ill intent behind his words. If anything it made Casey giggle. “I guess I didn’t describe it well. Besides, I won't make you watch it. However, we are going to watch The Lost Boys.” “You mean that vampire one?” Raph asked. He listened to Casey rant about so many horror movies that it was hard to keep track of them and what kind of monsters were in each. The other nodded, sitting up and crossing their legs. “Well put it on, whatcha waiting for.” He watched as his partner got excited and grabbed their laptop out of their bag.

From what he knew, horror meant a lot to Casey. It was their favorite genre of movies, games, books, and whatever else there could be. They had once told him that it was what they would watch with their sister if she needed to be distracted by something. Admittedly, Raph didn’t get why anyone would get comfort from horror movies but he did get the sentimental bit of watching something with family. Casey logged into some random streaming service and set up the laptop in front of them. They started the movie before laying on their side, head resting on raph’s lap and he started to play with their hair again. The movie started well. It was easy to tell that it was made in the mid eighties. The music, costumes, etc.

There was a weird long sax scene but the beginning was still good. Raph asked questions about random things. Mainly stuff about vampires and how the crew was able to do the special effects. Casey answered his questions no matter how stupid they were. It was nearing the big fight at the Emerson house when the younger teens were preparing. The scene currently playing was the one where the Frog brothers run into the church and start filling flasks and shits up with holy water. “Can you do that?” Raph asked quietly. “Do what?” They asked confused, with no clue what he was referring to. “Steal the holy water?” Raph asked with complete seriousness, not a sign of it being a joke anywhere. It took a second for Casey to say anything without laughing. “A movie full of vampires that is somewhat queer and the question you ask in all seriousness is if you can steal holy water?” They joked as they thought of an actual answer. “I don’t think there’s a rule against it. I guess as long as you’re not interrupting a service or some shit.” They made a mental note to find an actual answer. Raph just gave a smile nod, seemingly satisfied with the answer. The movie continued with both occasionally commenting on the gore and deaths.

“Is David actually dead? They didn’t do anything cool after death with his body like exploding or someth’. The antlers also look like they missed his heart.” Raph asked. The other shrugged, “You’ll just have to read the sequel comics with me.” Casey said, looking at him with a smile. They tried to stay quiet for the rest of the movie but had laughed when it was revealed that David wasn’t the head vampire and that it was Max instead and Raph actually gasped. The movie ended and the credits rolled. Raph could see why Casey seemed to like it so much. The gore and effects were good, the soundtrack was amazing especially because of Cry Little Sister. “So, did you like it?” They asked as they sat up and exited out of the end credits . Raph nodded, “I thought it would’ve been worse. Only part that was kinda weird was the really long sax solo at the beginning .” Casey laughed, “It’s a weird scene but that’s what makes it The lost Boys.” Casey yawned as they looked for another to watch.

“We don’t have to watch another movie if you’re tired, Case.” Raph said quietly. They looked at him, “You sure? I know that I haven’t spent a lot of time with ya.” They felt bad for taking on more shifts but they needed the extra shifts. “I just want to make up for the missed time, I feel bad about it.” They said quietly, closing their laptop. They didn’t look at Raph. “Case, I don’t mind. It’s what you have to do for you and your sister. As long as you take care of yourself and you still show up, it’s alright. I get it, we both have shit going on.” He told them. He himself would disappear due to missions and other ninja stuff. “All I ask is that you tell me if something's wrong.” Casey looked at him and gave a small smile, “I know. Finals will be over soon and after this month I can go back to my normal work hours.” They were glad that he understood, even if it would lead to a disagreement here and there; it still helped. They put their laptop back in their bag.

Casey yawned again, “I think we should both go to bed. You got some pretty big dark circles there.” Raph elbowed them before moving the thick blankets to the foot of the bed; leaving one to go against the wall for Casey. With it getting warmer as spring was ending, there wasn’t much need for all the blankets. Even with it becoming warmer in the lair it was still cold some nights, so the two of them shared a thin knitted blanket. He handed the other the hair tie he used when playing with their hair. Casey put their hair into a quick braid and tied it. They laid down on “their” side, back facing the wall and waited for Raph to lay down before covering up with the thin yarn blanket. Raph had turned off the bright lamp that lit up the room and turned on the small Christmas lights that hung around the room. He put his head on his pillow, facing the other. One of them would either wake up from a nightmare or they would wake up tangled up cuddling and going to sleep facing each other seemed to lessen the nightmares for some reason. “You know, the next movie I should have you watch is Blood In Blood Out.” Casey said, closing their eyes. “Yeah yeah, another horror movie? Add it to the list.” Raph said jokingly. Casey was quick to open their eyes, “It’s not a horror movie. It’s a good ass Chicano movie.” They told him not in a mean way, knowing that he didn’t really get to see that many movies. Raph put his hands up as a my bad. They both chuckled and sighed.

Casey closed their eyes and curled up next to Raph, “Love you, dude.” Raph warped his arms around them. “You do? You goin’ soft on me, Case?” He teased them before jokingly elbowing him. “Say it back, fool.” Raph laughed a bit and rolled his eyes. “I love you too, Casey.”

—————————————————

AN: I loved writing this work and it will forever hold a place in my heart as my first thing to ever be posted on ao3. I had a lot of fun writing all the chapters and reading all the comments. I really hope that this is a good enough last chapter. I will probably write other thing for this au/my own iteration of tmnt later but I might post some spiderverse stuff first.

Peace and love y’all ^^

[aphelionatseven]

Hey you! Your newest fic got recced in a discord server and went to check it out, and was confused by the stats since it's been 3 hrs since the fic got recced and the time I checked. Then I saw that it was uploaded with the date 2/27. It's a stupid ao3 bug where, if you save a draft and update later it uploads the fic with the date the draft was first saved with. I had the same issue once and had to manually change the publication date on every chapter I uploaded. If you want more people to find your fic - which absolutely should happen because the little bit that I have read so far sounds absolutely fantastic and I am only 3 paragraphs in - you might want to manually change the publication date so it shows up on the first page. Ofc, feel free to ignore this ask <3

oh . my god thank u so much 😭😭 ur a life saver anon

[neve-gallus-girl-detective]

Can you please help me?

I published chapter 1 of my fic on ao3 yesterday, but now chapter 2 (that I uploaded a hour ago) isn’t showing up at the tag pages as a “new” chapter? It doesn’t change the date and it immediately got pushed down all the way to the bottom when I uploaded it.

Do you have any experience with this? Is this some sort of bug? And is there something I can do about it or do I have to delete this chapter and upload it again?

(I immediately posted it after copying it from docs, so it wasn’t a draft) ✍🏻

i was going to ask about it being a draft bcs that has happened to me before. Was your first chapter a draft? If it was, then you'll have to manually change the date every time you post bcs it remembers the date of the first chapter/draft.

Also, you can go edit the chapter and change the date to be today so it shows up as new! When you post chapter 3, check the date that's there before posting and make sure it's the right date!

[glitternightingale]

It could be due to the date when a draft was first created. Once the fic is posted, the date can be changed to make it appear as the most recent addition in the tag.

(Or ao3 really could just be having issues with a bug. But maybe this could help for the time being regardless?)

is it just me or is there something seriously weird going on with ao3 where new fics will be added to a tag’s overall count but not appear for literally days or weeks? I’m seeing this happen a lot in the melvik tag and it’s discouraging watching people put hard work into writing stuff that’s getting damn near 0 engagement because of it :(

[olderthannetfic]

I don't know if you have any information on this, but I remember reading about a bug on AO3 where creating a draft at certain times of the day would cause the finished work to be registered as posted at a past date and not show up as a new work. Do you know if this problem has been fixed? I haven't been able to find any new information about it.

--

I have no idea if it has been fixed.

[jenroses]

important for AO3 writers

UPDATE for 2022!

This bug has apparently been fixed as of May!

So a while ago I asked staff at AO3 why it was that I could post a work, update it with chapters, and have it appear no higher than tenth, ever, even with new chapters, on a busy fandom.

I finally got an explanation. 

“If, however, your work is appearing below works that were already visible, it's possible you're running into an issue that occurs when a work is posted between 12:00 AM and 5 AM UTC - works posted during this time frame cause the system to believe the work has had a posting date set manually. (Normally you would do this by ticking "Set a different publication date" in the posting form.) This also applies to works that were initially saved as a draft on a date previous to the day they are posted. Works that have been backdated are assigned a default time of day, which may be earlier than the actual time you posted the work.”

So don’t post during that time. It just HAPPENS to be between 5 pm and 10 pm Pacific time so posting things after dinner is RIGHT OUT if you happen to live on the west coast of the US. That’s between 8 pm and 1 am east coast time.

So until they fix this (and it’s been going on a LONG time, they’re working on it but it’s a massive code overhaul, apparently) I’ll be posting fics OTHER times. 

This means if you’re posting a long, multichapter work, posting the first chapter in the evening can screw up the entire rest of your posting. Posting a draft before posting for reals will also keep you from being at the top of the list.

And this probably explains why some of my fics have done better than others. 

What does this look like? Someone posts at, say, 4 in the afternoon my time. I come along and post around 8 pm, which is pretty typical for me, but it gets marked as “set manually” and given a time much earlier in the day, and thus appears behind everything posted that day. So it’s never on top, people start reading down the list, think they’ve seen everything that’s at the top, and don’t poke any farther. 

So for writers, DO NOT POST BETWEEN  12:00 AM and 5 AM UTC. Google will translate, just plug in 12 am UTC and it will pop up your local time in most places. 

For readers, realize this exists and that you’re probably missing something. Scroll back if it’s between those hours, and after those hours. 

And at some point they’ll fix this to something less arcane.

[theresthesnitch]

The last OLT update was 20/10, right? Because AO3 is telling me it was 13/10. Some other fics on my bookmarks also have their update dates wrong (and I know that because I have an email with the dates I know are the right ones) but the thing is: it’s random. Some have wrong dates and some have right dates, some have the second to last update date and some have random dates. Is the simulation glitching? Or is it just an ao3 bug and it’s showing 13/10 to you too?

Ah ha! Thanks for letting me know. I can actually explain this one for mine.

So when I pre-loaded the chapters into AO3 to make it easier for me to click publish, it locks in the date I added the draft as the "publish" date. Theoretically, I should be changing the date before I hit publish, but the last time I remembered was October 13. So when I publish a new chapter, it keeps the original "publish" date.

Probably, the fics that you're seeing have the "wrong" date were either saved as a draft in AO3 before they were posted, or submitted to a fest that released them at a later date, or the writer changed the date to a later date.

OLT(NE) is updated to have Oct 20 as the date, and HOPEFULLY, I'll remember to change the date on Monday.

Thanks, darling!

[sambvcks]

crawl home to her, b.b. x reader

chapter one // body’s working on empty

summary: bucky isn’t as receptive to this new life of his as everyone had hoped. he’s cold, sharp-tongued, and closed off. except to the tenant across the hallway from him, who always wears pajamas and bakes a dozen too many of his favorite cookies

warnings: food, nothing too bad this chapter!

word count: 1.5k-ish

author’s note: i thought my marvel phase ended five years ago...here we are again. i haven’t written in awhile so please be kind! title and chapter titles taken from hozier’s ‘work song’.

[ read on ao3 | series masterlist | inbox | join my taglist! ]

[ NEXT ]

Five minutes into their first session, Bucky decided he was going to make Dr. Raynor’s job as difficult as he possibly could.

It wouldn’t be an impossible task, seeing how this whole ordeal depended on him opening up and talking, two things that he had abandoned decades ago. Her unwavering stare was nothing more than a challenge, these fifty-minute sessions once a week were nothing more than a slight inconvenience to his lackluster day to day routine. He would play along, do whatever exercises she asked, and feign stability until he never had to see her again.

“Since this is our first session together, we’ll take it easy.” She promised with a forced upturn of her lips before whipping out her notebook.

Suddenly, it felt like he was encased in bulletproof glass in Berlin again. He remembered that the last time he had been forced into receiving psychiatric help, it hadn’t exactly gone to plan. His chin fell to his chest, hands wringing together as he thought of any excuse to request a different doctor. 

“Let’s begin.”

It was already getting too hot to wear leather gloves and his heavy jacket. New York’s heatwave was supposed to be the highest on record this year and while kids popped open fire hydrants in the street, Bucky would be settled on the hardwood floor in the back corner of his apartment, waiting.

Waiting for what, he wasn’t quite sure.

It was a fairly nice apartment, newly renovated and practically barren. Government issued and funded, of course, and he had spent the first night pulling the furniture from the walls to the center of the room in search of bugs and cameras. He found thirty-four, destroyed them under a rolling pin, and they hadn’t come to replace them. Message received.

The one thing he really liked about the apartment building were his neighbors. The price tag for a one bedroom was substantial to say the least and only older couples could really afford it. No children, no dogs, no outsiders. The only break from his undisturbed routine would be occasionally helping Mrs. Johnson down the hall carry her groceries as she struggled to get the door unlocked with her brittle hands.

They affectionately called him James and the older women were quick to get a hold of his arms, saying things like “They don’t make them like you anymore, James!”. He swallowed the bile prickling at the back of his throat as he nodded, and they moved on to telling him about their single granddaughters.

It was almost nice, his routine. Almost.

Outside of those small encounters, he spent most of his waking hours jogging in the park and cooking the same three meals. He had his appointment every Wednesday with Dr. Raynor, but that was it. He’d take two trains back to his apartment and wouldn’t emerge again until he needed groceries two days later.

It was when he was returning from one of his biweekly grocery trips, a paper bag settled on his hips, that he spotted you outside his door.

He stilled in the hallway, taking a quick step back to peek around the corner without being spotted. His breath stalled, his ears picking up your soft humming and the crinkle of plastic as you set a bundle of cookies at his doorstep, the only one without a mat. His eyes flicked to the other doors, where identical bags of cookies sat propped up, tied with blood red ribbons.

His shoulders relaxed. No threat.

The bottom of his grocery bag suddenly gave way, fruit rolling in every direction. Bucky fell to his knees, glove clad hands snatching up everything he could reach as quickly as he could manage. You were faster, though, and scooped up a plum that had rolled your way, offering it over as he tried to balance the rest of his groceries in his arms.

“Thanks.” He was quick to sweep past you, hand digging in his pockets for his key.

“James, right? Ms. Robinson downstairs is like, in love with you.”

“Yeah, but, uh-“ Dr. Raynor’s instructions from their last session rang in his head, as much as he tried to tune her out: make connections. “You can call me Bucky.” He cleared his throat. “And Mrs. Robinson is far too good for me.”

“Bucky it is then.” You trailed him down the hallway, “Y/N.”

Bucky tried to sneak a glance at you from the corner of his eyes, which was harder to inconspicuously do now that he had gotten a haircut and couldn’t hide his wandering eyes behind long tresses. Young was Bucky’s first thought. much younger than the other renters in the building. Bright was next, followed by much too smiley for a Tuesday morning.

Pretty, he admitted as he turned his back to unlock his door. Maybe in another life he would have lingered in the hall, his so-called effortless charm seeping through as you swooned at the very thought of a date with James Buchanan Barnes. But that life was long gone, and instead he rushed to retreat.

“Oh, don’t forget these.” You swooped down to collect the bundle of cookies you had left at his door, handing them to the hand that wasn’t delicately balancing the pile of groceries he still held against his impossibly broad shoulders. “Oatmeal raisin, super-secret family recipe.”

He was back in the doorway of his ma’s kitchen, watching his little sister balance on a wobbling stool as she struggled to crack and egg with her little fingers. He can so distinctly see the pale green of the cabinets, remember the fight his parents had when she begged for that shade of green while his dad had wanted white. Of course, she won.

“These are your brother’s favorite.” His ma whispered to his sister; her flour covered hands reaching for the age faded index card with their grandmother’s script detailing the ingredients. “Our family’s recipe. One day, you will make these for your children. And your children’s children.”

Rebecca, still so young and with a hatred for smelly boys deep in her bones, giggled at the mere thought as her fingers fished out the bits of eggshell that snuck their way into the bowl. She wiped it away on the spare apron tied twice around her waist, much too big for her. 

Bucky would never see her grow into it. He would be drafted only a few months later.

In the meantime, he would bundle half a dozen of them in a tea towel and split them with Steve on the walk to the movie theater. Steve would begrudgingly admit that Buck’s ma made the best cookies, but his made the best brisket. They’d sneak in through the back door and do it all again the next weekend, until they ran out of weekends together.

“Oatmeal raisin are my favorite.” He admitted, accepting your offering like a stray cat does to the first scrap of food from a stranger.

“I think you’re the only person under the age on one hundred to ever say that.” You teased, backing away to the door adjacent to his, “Anyway, don’t tell me things like that. I’m a stress baker and with finals coming up…” You winced at the image of the dozens of batches you would surely be whipping up in the coming weeks.

“Finals?”

“Law school, one semester left.” You fished your own keys from your back pocket. Bucky barely held in the scoff at the shiny Spider-Man keychain that dangled from your fingers. “You?”

“Oh, no. I haven’t been in school in what feels like…a century.”

“Well, I’m all alone here and as much as I would love to, I can’t eat everything that I bake. So, expect a few dozen muffins and cookies every few days.”

“No arguing from me, doll.”

You both lingered in the small hallway, only a few steps apart, each leaning against your respective doors. Keys in each hand, with no intention of using them any time soon.

“Law school, you said? How do you afford a place like this?” Bucky was sure he was the only recently pardoned fugitive under this room.

“Well, this used to be my grandma’s apartment and it was handed down to me in a maybe no so legal way. If the landlord asks, I’m an eighty-year-old woman who doesn’t know how to work her answering machine.”

He huffed a laugh, mostly because that wasn’t particularly far from how he felt with today’s tech. The flip phone that Dr. Raynor had described as archaic sat heavy in his back pocket with only three names programed into his contacts. Don’t get him started on his television.

“Nice to meet you, Bucky.”

With that, you each stepping into your respective apartments. Bucky stalled at his door for a moment, listening as you locked and dead bolted your door behind you. He sighed, dumping his half-ruined groceries on his barren kitchen island.

The next day, he’d have another appointment with Dr. Raynor. This time when he’d say I’m trying, as he did each week, it wouldn’t be a complete lie. His phone buzzed in his back pocket.

2 New Messages

From: Sam

You coming up this weekend?

Don’t ignore me this time. He’s getting worse, Buck.

[youngerdrgrey]

call me tomorrow // a post-3x05 wildmoore oneshot

summary: In a quick canon divergence, the day after 3x05, Ryan actually does call Sophie. They’ve got plenty to talk about — Moms, murders, and maybe how they feel about each other. [read on ao3, or below] rated: T notes: we're almost done with hiatus! I'm posting drafts! making way for the neeeeeew. there's some discussion of homophobia in this! context: AU where Ryan actually does call Sophie the day after the talk with Jada in 3x05. As you may recall, Sophie said in 3x02, “I know what it’s like to need to put a wall. [...] but I also know what it’s like to be a girl who just wants a hug from her mom.”

🦇

Sophie chuckles the moment she answers the phone.

“It’s nearly six. Started to think you forgot about me.” Her second laugh is a bit less genuine. A bit more nervous as her words catch up with her. That’s probably too honest for the first line of a phone call.

Ryan groans on her end. There’s a shuffle of papers. A heavy thud of a door that wipes away the music from the background. She must be getting home.

“Yeah, I just got home,” Ryan says. Two quick zippers — her boots most likely — then the thuds that go with setting them onto the shoe rack. “You’d think these meetings would get shorter but….” A quick sigh, then a very loud flop down onto the couch that makes Sophie laugh. “Wait, one second.”

The call freezes before the FaceTime lights up the screen. Sophie takes a quick second to glance behind her and check her reflection. Hair’s still good since she spent the majority of the day researching on her laptop. Make up’s fine. All good. Thank goodness Alice isn’t here to see her preening.

Sophie accepts the FaceTime, and Ryan immediately smiles at her. Sophie’s heart rate picks up. Her cheeks burn, but she smiles around the way this ridiculous crush keeps sabotaging her.

Ryan sighs in a good way this time. “Much better view now.”

Sophie clears her throat to make sure her voice isn’t choked up. “I take it your mom wasn’t much help.”

Ryan’s smile freezes in the corners. “Not really. There’s something going on, but… I’m still figuring it out. Give me a few days?”

“A few days?” Sophie repeats. The BGS could’ve killed Jordan. They don’t have a few days to waste on soft leads. She opens her mouth to say as much, but Ryan’s face looks so hopeful, so vulnerable. A few days might not be the worst thing. They’ve still got to get all of this paralytic out of their systems anyway.

Sophie doesn’t even say anything. Her face must give her away.

Ryan cheers and bounces happily on her couch. “Thank you. I’ve got this. Trust me.”

Sophie trusts Ryan more than she wants to admit. She cuts her eyes away from the pretty girl on her phone screen. “But I’m going to keep digging, alright? Without the bug, I’m not sure what my next step will be.”

Ryan leans back into the cushions. Her eyebrows knit together in the cutest way. Sophie smiles at Ryan’s thinking face.

“Maybe you should talk to her. Jada, I mean.” Ryan glances back at Sophie. “You did save her life. She might be a little more open to talking to you now.”

Very true. Unfortunately, Sophie did spend most of last night softly threatening the woman. Not the greatest start to a relationship. Lies and threats. Bugging her office. Fake-dating her daughter. Oh shit, she still thinks they’re dating.

Sophie goes for a joke. “Wow, brunch with the in-law. Careful what you wish for, right?” At Ryan’s confused look, Sophie shrinks a little. “You know, ‘cause I mentioned… Moms… before.” She cringes at herself. Way to kill the mood.

Ryan gives another soft smile into the camera though. “Twice in one week. It’s more than you’ve seen yours in a while, huh?”

Sophie’s face falls before she can catch it. “That’s putting it lightly.” Nearly two years.

“Still nothing?”

“She texted Jordan congrats on getting into the expo, but the moment Jordan mentioned that I’d be there too….” Sophie shakes her head. “Crickets.”

“I’m sorry.”

Sophie shrugs. Ryan doesn’t have to be sorry. It’s something people say, but Ryan doesn’t… get it. Not really. Before coming out, Sophie didn’t go more than a week without calling her mom. How does that just stop? “Can I say something that sounds… awful?”

Ryan doesn’t even hesitate. “Go for it.”

Sophie closes her eyes. “Jada gave you up as a baby. She didn’t know you. She didn’t raise you. She didn’t…. She didn’t…”

“Love me?” Ryan finishes for her. Sophie winces, and Ryan gives another short smile into the video call. “You can say it.”

She won’t, but she’s glad Ryan said it for her. It lets her say, “But my mom spent twenty-nine years with me. And she still just… walked away. And I’ve had a lot of time to try and figure out how I feel about it. But I can’t really? Even when I think I’m doing okay, I….” Sophie sits up straight since it makes holding the phone easier. Makes the words easier. “I could’ve died last night, Ryan, and if I did… would my mom even care? Would she come to my service? Or just sit at home and pray I don’t end up in hell?”

Ryan exhales slow. Sophie circles her jaw. Thanks the God she still somewhat believes in that Alice is out of the apartment today. Maybe a call was a bad idea. This talk would’ve been better in person. Ryan would’ve held her hand. Maybe even hugged her. Told her everything would be okay.

“It, uh—“ Ryan clears her throat, “— probably would’ve been a wild report to read. ‘Sophie Moore, ex-Crows second in command, dies at the hands of a homicidal chef in a pig’s head.’” She says it with a straight face. Even tone. It shouldn’t make Sophie smile, but it does quirk up her lips just a bit. Ryan keeps going. “‘The Jet’s family butler remembers Ms. Moore as sophisticated, snarky, and ‘so fine that she really should’ve lived a little longer.’”

Sophie snorts. “That’s what the white butler said?”

Ryan nods. “I’m reading the report right now. ‘Ms. Moore was a decorated upholder of white supremacy—‘“

“Ryan!”

The fake voice cracks into a heartfelt one. “‘—and one of the best people that Ms. Wilder — also deceased — had ever known. She’s the only person that Wilder has ever been wrong about. Moore’s survived by her amazing little sister, Jordan, who’s single-handedly changing Gotham for the better, and a mother who absolutely fumbled the bag.’”

Sophie should not be emotional at this. She shouldn’t. She isn’t. Her eyes are only red because of the angle.

Ryan pulls her phone closer. “Real talk for a sec?” She lowers her voice. “Thank you, for coming to the dinner and for everything these last few weeks. I couldn’t have done any of this without you. You’re the best back up, best fake girlfriend, best partner that I could’ve asked for.”

Okay, Sophie has to deep breathe through that. Her throat feels tight. Like, really tight. “Ryan—“

“And I know I’ve leaned on you a lot, but you can lean on me too. You don’t have to act tough, Soph. Not with me. So if you need to cry about your mom, or Jordan, or—“

“Ryan, stop!” Shit. Sophie takes a shuddering breath. By the time she opens her eyes, Ryan still looks wounded. Looks apologetic and frantic like she’s said something wrong. “I am…. God, I am so bad at this.”

“Emotions?”

“Yes! I am much better with the walls up. With, you know, running at a problem, or shooting at it, but….” Sophie takes another deep breath. “You don’t have to thank me for helping you. I like helping you. I like… you.”

Ryan’s eyes widen.

Sophie barrels forward. “I’m sorry. You’re saying all these nice things, and I would really rather be known as more than ‘Ryan Wilder’s friend’ in my fake obituary. I want to go to taco night, and to go on a date that isn’t a back-up plan. I want to go on a date with you. Soon. If possible.”

Ryan stares into the phone. Sophie feels each of those walls rebuilding around her. “Ryan, I swear to God—“

“Whoa, whoa, just —“ Ryan chuckles. Breathless, stunned, brows finally furrowing. “Give a girl a second after you announce your undying love for her.”

“I did not say love—“

“But you were thinking it,” Ryan teases. Great to know her sense of humor is in tact. Sophie nearly had a heart attack, but Ryan’s immediately back to making jokes. “That’s why you said you were my girlfriend last night? You were testing the waters!”

Sophie groans. “Alright, I am not talking to you anymore.”

“Wait, no, Sophie, don’t hang up.” Sophie glares into the phone. Ryan waits until she clearly has Sophie’s full attention to flash the brightest, most blinding smile that Sophie has ever seen. Ryan laughs, and she sits up on her own couch. “You could’ve me told this last night, you know. The night could’ve ended differently.”

“Really?” Sophie’s cynicism and her hopefulness wrap up in a single word.

Ryan rolls her eyes. “Well, not really, I did need to talk to Jada, but — but! I definitely would’ve called you sooner today.”

Sophie narrows her eyes. “And say what?”

“First, I’d thank you for the weirdest first date I’ve ever been on, and then I’d ask you to come over….” Ryan’s voice trails. Sophie’s eyebrows lift suggestively. Ryan finishes her thought. “I’d cook us something without paralytics. No wine, obviously. Ciders maybe?” Sophie nods. “Ciders it is. But it’s getting late now. You know, no time to cook.”

Sophie bristles. “If you don’t want to go out, just say it. I’m a big girl.”

Ryan’s quick to interject. “I want to go out. But I really don’t have time to cook you a nice dinner and get this awful day washed off of me. So, if you’re done panicking, how about you pick up something on your way to the loft?”

Sophie’s stomach grumbles. “Crispy Joe’s?”

Ryan smiles. “Sounds perfect. Okay, I’m gonna hang up and get ready. See you soon?”

Sophie nods. Ryan reaches to end the call, so Sophie jumps up. “Wait!” Ryan startles on her side. Sophie smiles around the flush to her cheeks. “Thanks for calling.”

Ryan’s cheesy ass grin could power the Batmobile. “I said I would, right? You can always trust me.”

“I know. Alright, go. I’ve got wontons to order. Is Mary—”

Ryan shakes her head. “She’s out.”

That sends a shot of heat straight through Sophie. She drops her voice. “So it’s just you and me and Crispy Joe’s wontons?”

The phone’s close enough that Sophie can see Ryan’s eyes shift. Ryan pouts right after. “This is a trap. I’m not falling for it. Get off this phone, and get in the car. I will see you soon. Buh-bye, Sophie!”

“Have a nice shower, Ryan.”

“GOOD BYE!”

They should do calls more often, especially if tonight goes well. Then again, if it goes really well, neither of them will be waiting by the phone tomorrow.

🦇

end author's note: thanks for rocking with me, y'all! please, please subscribe to me on AO3 or follow on here bc life kicks my ass sometimes, so posts don't come regularly. talk to me in the comments, replies, and reblogs! how you feeling?

[alyasgf]

Reveals?

Part 5 of Everything’s Gonna Be Okay || Masterlist

Word Count- 2615

AO3

Notes- Crazy how I’ve had this chapter drafted for the longest. I went through a spout of hating all of my writing so I wasn’t really motivated. I pretty much just wrote Alyanette until I felt confident enough to continue this so,, yay here we are a couple months later, sorry for the wait.

Begin

She’d never say it aloud, but she adored her partner. She admired him for his optimism, loyalty, and how stupidly brave he could be during battles.

As she detransformed on her bed her mind also wandered to Adrien. It did that a lot recently, flipping back and forth between both blonde boys. It confused her heart, but still she knew it belonged to Adrien, as it always had, as it always would. With his soft laughs and softer smiles, Marinette couldn’t believe she was lucky enough to have him.

She laid there, staring up dreamily toward the night sky and holding her hands to her heart until a shadow obscured her view.

She heard a small knock and smiled. Did this stray ever go home?

She opened her sky light and stuck her head out.

“To what do I owe the pleasure savior of Paris?”

In the dim moonlight she could see Chat’s eyes crinkle as he smiled.

“I request your company, and perhaps some sustenance?” He said in an overly formal tone as he kneeled before her.

She laughed before inviting him in.

As he climbed down into her room she could see the glow in his eyes. Something about him was different, he seemed happier.

Most of the times that he would come Marinette could see a lonely sad look break through when he thought she wasn’t looking. It’s not that she minded of course, if she could be a form of comfort for Chat like he was for her she’d take it in a heartbeat.

“I have some chocolate pastries here, although they aren’t too fresh.” She offered him as he crossed the room over to her desktop. She didn’t normally make a habit of keeping food in her room, but Tikki had been snacking. Hopefully she wouldn’t mind too much if Chat stole a few.

“Sounds great Marinette.” He called over his shoulder as he sat in her desk chair and sat in front of her computer.

“What do you say we find some two player game on here and- oh.” Chat stopped mid-sentence and Marinette turned around from grabbing a pastry to see what had happened.

Apparently she forgot to close out the folder of Adrien’s ad photos she had saved on her computer.

She turned bright red as she ran over to the computer and quickly closed it out.

“That’s uh... research! Yeah research on some Gabriel designs!” She lied, facing her back towards Chat so he wouldn’t notice the blush now spreading down her neck.

“Right, well if it were research on Gabriel designs, why only have pictures of Adrien? Other models wear Gabriel brand clothes.” She could practically hear the teasing smirk on his face.

She turned to wack him softly on the shoulder. “Keep on this topic and I’ll make you watch me eat the pastries right here!” She threatened.

Chat held his hands up in mock surrender. “Woah so sorry Adrien Agreste fan #1.” He teased again.

In response Marinette took a large bite out of the pastry she had planned to give him. She made sure to make a show of it, with accompanying sound effects and an exaggerated sigh after she finished chewing.

“Marinette you wound me!” Chat whined, crossing his arms in a dramatic childlike fashion.

Marinette stopped to think about how adorable his pout was before she laughed and went to grab the second pastry.

“Test me again and there will be no more sweets when you come over.” She bluffed.

Chat practically snatched the snack from her hands.

“Then I’d have no reason to come back.” He said through a stuffed mouth.

“No, I think you enjoy my company too much.” She gloated before pulling up a chair beside him. “Now what game did you want to play?”

They spent the next two hours playing fireboy and watergirl, where Marinette was shocked to find they made an incredible team.

——————————————

The akuma was hard, there was no denying that. The akuma called itself Obedience. Anyone struck with its ray was forced to do what ever it said, as though playing a game of simon says with dire stakes.

Marinette regretted staying up so late with Chat the night before. How he managed to have the amount of energy he did was astounding.

Chat had already used his cataclysm and Ladybug had used her lucky charm to set up a trap, all they had to do was lead Obedience into it.

Unfortunately, they needed to charge up before that, seeing as the beeping of their miraculous was giving its final warning before it was going to give up.

They landed on a distant building and de-transformed behind opposite sides of a pillar.

“M’lady do you have any extra snacks? Plagg ate up all his cheese before the battle and I didn’t have time to restock.” Chat called from the other side of the stone divider.

Ladybug giggled. “Looks like you need to learn how to control your friend Chaton. Here.” She reached out with a macaroon for Chat to take.

Her curiosity got the best of her and she couldn’t help but admire his hand as he reached over to take the sweet.

Soft and flawless, other than the messy blue nail polish that glowed in the sunlight. At first she didn’t think anything of it.

“Going for a new look kitty?” She asked lightheartedly as Tikki refueled.

“What? Oh you mean my nails. Well, I had someone paint them for me yesterday and I guess I distracted them too much and they made a mess.” He replied absentmindedly.

Wheels began to turn in Marinette’s brain, but unsure as to why, she didn’t try to make them stop.

“Oh, someone painted them? They look cute, did someone finally take in this alley cat?”

“For someone who hates puns, you really do use a lot of cat related metaphors toward me bug. And as a matter of fact I do, and she’s my girlfriend.” He bragged. “Plagg claws out!”

Ladybug transformed as well and was going to make a joke before a few dot connected before her. Messy blue nails. A girlfriend who painted them the day before. That nail polish looked all too familiar. She tried to push it down, but the dots were already connected.

Suddenly she flashed back to Chat Noir seeing her folder of Adrien photos last night and she felt sick to her stomach.

“Hey bug? You ready to kick this akuma Chat style?”

Ladybug snapped out of her trance. Even if everything that she just thought of was true, there was still an enemy to defeat. She could fully panic later.

“I think you mean Ladybug style. Now let’s go.”

They only just managed to get to the Eiffel Tower before they heard her again.

“Where are you Ladybug and Chat Noir? Don’t you know good children come when they’re called?” Obedience sang from a few streets over.

Chat strode over to lure her to the trap.

“Well maybe this kitty needs to be put in time out.” He replied leaning on his baton juvenilely.

“Oh no sweet boy, bad children must be taught better!” She pointed cane at him and an array of vegetables began to shoot out at him.

“Oh no! I’m afraid already perfectly healthy ma’am!” He leapt and dodged as he lead her straight to Ladybug.

As he turned the corner, there she stood, hands defiantly on her hips a couple of feet away. He scampered around a very large pool of a certain substance that was hardly noticeable unless you knew what you were looking for.

He took his side beside his lady as Obedience followed behind him.

“I’ve got you now tomcat!” Obedience turned the corner too fast and slipped straight into the street filled with a ridiculous amount of oil.

She screamed as she slid, and in her fall her cane flew from her fingers. It’s momentum led it straight toward them. Ladybug stopped it with the bottom of her shoe, and stomped on it with a satisfied grin.

Once she let the akuma go and threw the now empty bottle of oil to reverse the effects of the akuma, she turned to Chat.

“Pound it!” She said it with her usual confidence, but Chat could see something else lingering in her eyes.

But he was supposed to be practicing piano at the moment so he didn’t exactly have too much time to question her about it.

“Pound it.” He replied, touching his fist to hers.

————————-

“Tikki spots off.”

Ladybug de-transformed in her room and immediately began pacing.

“Crap crap crap crap! Tikki I accidentally figured out his identity! How could I be so careless as to look at his hands? Why did I care that much.”

Tikki sighed as she sat on Marinette’s desk. Sometimes it was best to let her get it all out.

“Well obviously I cared that much because Chat Noir is my recently established boyfriend! God he’s going to get such an ego boost when he finds out we’re dating.” Marinette threw herself face first into her chaise.

“So you’re going to tell him?” Tikki zipped over to hove beside her holder’s head.

There was a muffled response from the chair.

“What was that Marinette?”

“No, not yet. First I want to see how much he knows, if he knows anything at all.” Marinette rolled over on the chaise, laying as though she were at a therapists appointment.

“Tikki do you think this will effect our relationship? Will it put us in danger?”

Tikki’s little heart warmed.

“Marinette, you guys will be fine. If anything I think this would bring you closer together. If it puts you in any more danger you’ll handle it together, like you always do.” Tikki flew closer to hug Marinette’s cheek and Marinette let out a deep sigh as she brought a hand up to hug Tikki back.

“Thanks Tikki. You’re the best kwamii anyone could ask for.” Marinette said as the stress melted off of her.

“And you’re the best Ladybug I’ve ever known.” She replied warmly.

Of course things would work out. This was Chat she was talking about, Adrien. There wasn’t a problem he couldn’t help her solve, with or without the masks.

————————-

After going over Tikki’s advice for what felt like hours, Marinette came to a conclusion.

She would tell Chat Noir (Adrien?) who she was. It was only fair, considering she knew his identity. She wouldn’t have came to this on her own, so for the millionth time in her life she thanked Tikki.

But first, she needed to have a little fun. She noticed how Adrien would tease her lately for how flustered she got around him, so she figured the least she could do was use this moment to get revenge.

Too excited to sit still, she transformed to confront her boyfriend.

———————

Adrien was laying in bed reading manga when he heard a tapping at his window. He looked over in shock to see his lady waiting outside.

“Ladybug?” He nearly stuttered out.

She was glowing in the moonlight, backlit in all her glory. She had a playful grin in her lips that made Adrien uneasy.

“Hey pretty boy, mind if I pop in?” She asked casually, as if it were totally normal for Adrien Agreste to have a spotted heroine outside of his window.

He calmed his heart, remembering this was his dorky girlfriend and invited her in. He had to remember to act friendly, not like he would with Marinette, nor like he would as Chat Noir. This wouldn’t be easy.

“Your nails look cute.” She offered casually as she sauntered over to sit in his desk chair.

Adrien froze. Ladybug had noticed Chat Noir’s earlier too.

He quickly pushed that thought away. Marinette had been oblivious of his identity up until this point, even after the thousands of clues he’d managed to drop. He wasn’t exactly concerned anymore.

He decided to take advantage of the chance to compliment his girlfriend without her being able to completely reject it.

“Yeah my girlfriend painted them! She’s so cute and sweet and pretty.” He replied dreamily.

He could see Ladybug’s eyes widen and her blush grow. This was going great.

“Did you need something?” He asked innocently.

“I- uh-“ Adrien laughed, his girlfriend really wasn’t too different outside of the suit. Flustered and flushed, she was still Marinette.

Suddenly something in her eyes changed. One second they were wide and almost panicked, the next they were full of suspicion.

“You know don’t you!” She accused more than asked. She stalked over and jabbed a finger lightly into his chest.

Now it was Adrien’s turn to panic.

“Know what?” He asked, hoping to play dumb.

“You do!”

So much for feigning innocence. Instead he opted for begging for forgiveness.

“Marinette, i’m so sorry! It’s just I knew you’d panic if I told you when I found out and it’s not like I tried to figure out your identity! It’s just that you put so much effort into the whole kwamiibuster scheme-“

“You’ve known since kwamiibuster?!” She practically shouted.

“-and you looked so cute.” Adrien added still trying to lighten the blow. “I didn’t tell anyone and I’ve known for a while and nothing bad happened so I figured-“

Ladybug cut off his rambling with a kiss.

Adrien was stunned at first but then ultimately sighed into the kiss as he leaned into her touch. His arms looped around her waist as he pulled her close, hands tracing patterns into her spandex covered back.

He pulled pack slightly, noses still touching. He could feel her breath ghost his lips.

“So we’re okay?” He asked hopefully, eyes looking deep into hers as they caught their breath.

“Of course, minou. I just wish you would’ve told me before you saw that embarrassing folder on my computer.” She blushed.

“Oh? But then I wouldn’t be able to tease you about it. Tell me, which one was your favorite? Do you think the greens really brought out my eyes?”

“You’re the worst!” She exclaimed, attempting to pull from his embrace. Adrien’s arms held her fast in place.

“You love me!” He announced proudly as he pulled her into a tight hug. “Ladybug is dating Chat Noir!”

“Would you be quiet! I don’t want to have to explain to Nathalie why Paris’ superhero is standing in your room.” She giggled into Adrien’s shoulder.

“Ladybug is dating Chat Noir” He whispered, this time softer as he nuzzled her neck.

“Yes she is.” Ladybug sighed, resigning to Adrien’s touch.

“Now,” He released the girl as he turned and clasped his hands together. “de-transform. We’ve had plenty of date night in your room-“

“Those weren’t technically dates” She interjected.

“-And not enough in mine.” He gave her a pointed look as he continued. “Of course, since it’s my room, I have full say in what we watch.” He could hear Marinette’s pout as she de-transformed. “But I’ll take suggestions.”

Marinette crossed over to where Adrien was pacing in anticipation and threw her arms around his shoulders from behind. She placed a quick kiss on the base of his neck.

“New Girl again!” She said excitedly.

“No.”

[pointvee]

A writer (I've seen you on one of my works so, hello!) popping in to maybe add some clarification to that PSA you're putting out: That backdating glitch isn't recent--it's actually a fairly known bug with Ao3 in general. If you post from between 12 midnight to 5am Ao3 time it messes with the post date! Drafts also tend to have some issues. I usually get around it by making my drafts "same day" (aka ass o'clock the night before my time) and make absolutely sure not to post within that time frame.

Thanks for the clarification! yea ao3 has forbidden posting hours but i didnt know it extended to glitching your update date…