#ao3 bug

[cacodaemonia]

Help? AO3 hiding a whole series when some works in the series are in an 'unrevealed' collection??

I've been meaning to ask Tumblr about this weird AO3 bug(??) for a while but keep forgetting. I sent a support request to AO3 but haven't heard anything, so maybe the fandom hivemind will have some insight.

I have several series on AO3, and there are some old images from a couple of them that make me want to peel my skin off every time I look at them. I would like to delete them, but they're also some of my most popular images, and I know some people really like them, so I've been waffling on it for a while (I definitely don't want to orphan them because then I would never be able to delete them, and they're also, you know, part of those series I mentioned, so they would still be clearly tied to me. Also, I think art styles are generally a lot more recognizable than writing styles, so there's that, too).

Anyway, in the meantime, I decided to put all of those works in a collection that's set to 'unrevealed.' This hides those works without deleting them so I have time to figure out what I want to do.

Easy fix, right?

INCORRECT. 🙃🙃🙃

I discovered that doing this actually made both series completely disappear from my series list page on AO3 (the one on your dashboard that shows all your series - image below). I just about shit myself when I went to that series list to navigate to one of them, because it looked like they'd been deleted. It also doesn't even list them in the total number of series. This should say 15 and not 13:

If I go to my works list, click on a work in either series, and then go to the individual series from there, both of them are visible. I checked with some friends, and they can see the individual series pages, as well, but are unable to see them on my series list page.

My browser tab even says 'mystery series' instead of the title of the series:

And any links to the individual series get all fucked up. The most basic link, for example, just says 'mystery series.' Even the Archivist Discord bot lists some of the info but says the authors are anonymous when there are actually 9 other people besides me who have works in this series:

This is all super weird and frustrating. And a huge oversight on the part of AO3?? This seems like it would affect a lot of people who participate in events that involve collections on AO3—if they were to draft works into unrevealed collections, it seems like that could also hide any related series until the collections are revealed?

The way I see it, I can either delete the works, remove them from the 'unrevealed' collection, or remove them from both of the affected series while I decide what to do with them. However, the whole point of making the collection was to hide those works so they're not making me cringe.

Plus, as you can see, there are 14 works in the collection:

Not all of them are in theses series, but most are, so removing them would be a bit of a pain, and if I ever want to add them back in, I'd have to reorder the series to place all of them in their correct order. One of these series has about 150 works in it, so that's a giant pain in the ass.

Does anyone know if there's a workaround for this? I'm leaning toward just deleting the works at this point, but I also feel bad about that. :/

[girlchomp]

PSA

Ao3 currently has a bug! You are not actually blocked by cloudflare, don't panic, what's happening (as far as I can tell) is that any action that requires the same page to reload (like commenting, opening comments, or just plain reloading the page, you get my drift) causes the cloudflare message to pop up. if you click the go back button, it should show the page agian and be fine, if not, just opening a new tab and doing it that way should do it. unfortunately, the bug prevents you from reporting the bug through the technical issues form on the site as clicking the submit button refreshes the page (ironic, i know) so we just have to hope ao3 staff notices and it gets fixed soon enough. ao3 volunteers are godsent angels though so i have full faith this wont last long :))

happy fanfic reading guys!

[moeitsu]

Has anyone else’s ao3 been buggy lately?

Every time I post a new chapter it adds the end of chapter note from ch 1 to the chapter I just uploaded. I’m not sure if others can see it or if it’s just me. But when I go to edit the chapter it disappears.

Like the first note is the note i put for chapter 4. The second note is from chapter 1. I didn’t even know it was possible to have two end of chapter notes. I can see it on both mobile and desktop version ://

[noplacelikelondon58]

ao3 help!!!!

for some reason, line spacing is just gona in every fic and its not fixing itself, even when i reload the page. these are fics that didn't have this spacing before so idk what to do 😭 please someone tell me how to fix this, im begging, i need my ao3 fill tonight HELPPP

[baconandpie1]

Why AO3 ? Why?

@ao3org - it's true I have quite a few tabs open on AO3 fics - but not more than usual (actually less than usual), and I am only going through some recommendations and trying to mark some fics for later. So why? Why are you doing this to me? Or is it a bug?

[spheresr4cubes]

"Wolfie, you’re a divine beast, right? Do you feel it?"

From The Ground Gives Birth to Flowers by @rebornofstars

[innitmarvellous]

Fellow fic writers (and readers too, I guess): do you stop posting a multiple chapter fic (or multi part fic series) on AO3 if there is very little interest in it in the fandom? Or do you just keep posting it, especially if you personally like that story and invested too much time and feelings in it?

This is a serious question btw, I'm not trying to be whiny here...because I've got no idea about fandom etiquette in that case. Is it fine to keep posting something that will get almost no hits or is that e.g. considered spamming the tag? Especially when it is about a small fandom with not many active authors.

Any answer would be really appreciated and helpful. (Pleeeeease.)

[ethanfundraising]

If you bought coffee this week, you have the means to donate to Akram's funds.

If you used Amazon this week, you have the means to donate to Akram's funds.

If you ate fast food this week, you have the means to donate to Akram's funds.

"My name is Akram Aldwaik, and I'm 18 years old. I live with my family of five in the Bureij camp in the Gaza Strip. The devastating war started my senior year of high school. I had set high goals and ambitions for myself, but unfortunately, none of them came true. Instead, our lives have become much more difficult than you can imagine... Before the war, I dreamed of becoming the top student in my university. I wanted to enjoy a different scenery than the barricaded Gaza Strip, see beautiful cities, and have new experiences. Now, I dream of this never-ending war and bloodshed to end.

This fundraiser aims to help save my family from the destruction we are living in. I appeal for your generosity so that my twin brother, Malik, and I can travel outside Gaza to continue our education. I also hope for an improvement in my family's economic conditions so that we can leave the destruction behind and start anew outside the country."

$1,719/$25,000 ‼️

REBLOG, QUEUE, SHARE.

If you can donate, donate. If you cannot, then reblog this post and add it to your queue a couple of times. Share to any friendly discord servers you are part of.

Vetted #138 @gazavetters -> LINK HERE

Thank you!

[criiitter]

i didn't even know about the ao3 curse until i published my first few chapters of my first ever fanfic and ended up in the hospital a couple days later. my partner drove me home when i got discharged and i mentioned the fanfic in passing and they were like. "oh my god. i can't believe it's real." and i was like what??? what's real?????? and proceeded to learn the horrors. anyway. back to the gay people who live in my phone

[celestialpaperhaze]

Hey everyone, so I'm just now finding out that millions of Ao3 fics, mine included, are currently sitting in an AI database. I've seen a few posts up here about this already, but thought it'd be best to spread the word.

There's more info on the Ao3 Subreddit: https://www.reddit.com/r/AO3/comments/1k6ie6v/ao3s_data_was_scraped_for_ai_what_to_know/?sort=confidence.

And on this document from another affected site: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1zvP9RF96zIGz6FFnis-fQelvTIy_XrcHGiQPGUE16mQ/edit?tab=t.0.

But basically, someone scraped the archive and compiled the data into a dataset that can be used to train AI. Most (if not all) works posted during/before March of this year and not restricted to "registered users only" are affected! Ao3 has filed a takedown claim, but the uploader is actively resisting this.

It seems possible to request an individual takedown of your works from the database, so this might be what I do. For now, I've locked down my works to registered Ao3 users only. It feels like too little too late and is also not my preferred choice of action, but my awareness of this situation has led me to try and take control of my works in any way I can.

Anyways, tagging all the small fandoms I'm in so more people know about this!

[profoundathletecowboybanana]

Me when the fic has love spell/potion/bug bite that has no effect on character A because they’re already so in love with character B that nothing about their behavior changes

[lilybug-02]

Chapter 8 is done and is over 3,000 words, wowie. See y’all next time :D

[cloudydoesstuff]

2003 Clone Wars is the literal definition of the crack treated seriously tag

[omaano]

Bug is overdue for an armor upgrade, but I had this image set as my background for months and I didn't want this year to pass without me posting another drawing of the bestest boy and his weird dog :3

[crawlinglilcritter]

MY BETA READER LMAOOOO

[radiantmists]

Haven't finished my day one fic but here's my entry for @charles-rowland-week Day 2: Chorb!

I see a lot of cute orb-ghost content and love it, but for some reason when I sat down to write my brain went: that experience must be terrifying on both ends. Especially if it happens when they're pushed to the brink, a circumstance that otherwise leads to ghosts just... dissolving. Especially the first time.

So here's the first time!

***

Charles can't remember how he got here; he hasn't really got any idea where here is, except that the ground he's lying on is too hard and the light is so bright it burns his eyes whenever he opens them.

Though that might actually be something wrong with his eyes, judging by how much the rest of him hurts. He must have pissed someone off real bad, to be in this much pain, but he can't remember who or why. He hopes it was worth it.

"Charles," says a voice, a voice he knows. Edwin's here, and he sounds upset, and like he's trying to hide it. Charles manages to pry his eyes open for half a moment before the searing pain forces them shut again, but in that brief second he gets a glimpse of Edwin-- just his neck and the bottom of his face, the harsh press of his mouth.

Charles has seen that expression before, knows it comes along with wide eyes that give away what might look like frustration otherwise; this is the face Edwin makes when he's terrified.

Edwin shouldn't be terrified. Charles tries to reach for where he thinks he was, to comfort him, but just the idea of moving his arm reminds him of how much his shoulders hurt, and he half-screams before he can swallow the sound.

"Charles, just-- just lie still a moment," Edwin says beyond the roaring of his ears, and it shouldn't be a hard request with how much moving hurts, but Charles doesn't think he can bear to lie here like this much longer, the ground digging into him and the pain burning through his bones.

There's something wrong about that. Charles shouldn't be able to feel the ground, however hard it is; he doesn't actually have bones to burn.

He's dead, but he's still hurting, somehow, and that doesn't seem fair, does it? He'd sort of thought he'd escaped it, for a while. Maybe a little pain was the cost of being alive, but now-- unable to feel any good thing-- it just feels cruel.

He's so tired of hurting.

"Charles," Edwin's voice breaks through again, only this time the tone is different, somewhere beyond fear. "Charles, please, don't-- please just stay--"

His voice breaks on the plea. Because he is pleading, which is all kinds of wrong. Edwin doesn't beg when he's terrified; he goes silent and still like a hunted rabbit, which Charles hates with all his being but he hates this too. Edwin shouldn't beg. He shouldn't have to, not with Charles, who has embarked on the afterlife-long project of making him as happy as possible.

Not going anywhere, he tries to say, but his mouth doesn't want to obey him and instead he just sort of groans. He can't move his fingers-- he's not sure he has fingers, right now. They don't hurt anymore, but he can't really feel them either.

He remembers that: losing his fingers first, then his toes, then more and more. Edwin had been there then, too, strange and funny and unbelievably kind, and Charles hadn't had the chance to worry about his toes. Edwin had given him that gift, the gift of not being scared, and then he'd tried to run off like it was nothing, like after all that he'd thought Charles would just leave Edwin to the lingering terror in his eyes when he spoke of Hell.

That terror has never left completely, despite Charles' best efforts. He's started to think it never will, and the thought hurts, but at least he'd thought it was getting better; except now Edwin is terrified, and he's the one begging Charles to stay. He's still talking, somewhere beyond the pain, and though Charles can't make out the words, that heartbreaking tone is still there.

Charles isn't leaving him. He refuses. But he can't bear this either, the pain making it so hard to think, to remember. Edwin's voice is a lifeline, but it's getting more and more difficult to hear it, and he's not sure it's just the ringing anymore.

He's a ghost. He doesn't have ears to ring, not really, or bones to ache or eyes to burn when he opens them. Piece by piece, half on purpose and half unable to hold on, he lets it all slip away, until all that's left is the conviction: whatever happens, he wants to stay.

It feels a little like changing his hair, the way Edwin had taught him, just holding on to what he wants until that's what he is.

Mostly, though, it feels like dying.

***

He knows less and more, like this. He doesn't know where he is, and there's no feeling to help him guess, no pain or light or voice in the ears he doesn't have anymore. He doesn't know how he got here, doesn't know how long he's been here, doesn't even know who he is, really.

But he's not confused, because what he knows is this: he's dead, and it's not fucking fair, because he had so much left to do. He knows he was going to do better, that he was going to fix things, and now he'll never have the chance. Part of him seethes at that, and part of him just wants to take the hint and stop trying.

Except he also knows, somehow, that he does have another chance. That he's still here, even if he can't feel or taste or smell-- or even see or hear. That he can move things, somehow, change them, sometimes even fix them. He can solve crimes and save lives and on very good days he can make Edwin laugh.

He remembers that, the last time he'd made Edwin laugh-- just a little chuckle, really, but helplessly sincere, and the smile had stayed on his lips when he'd said, really, Charles--

The world unfolds around that voice speaking his name, first just memory into sound and then the awareness of ears to hear it, of a head to turn toward it and arms to push himself up, of something soft and forgiving under his palms, and of eyes he can open to see Edwin's face, remarkably close and blinking with surprise that, as Charles watches, collapses into relief.

"You came back," Edwin breathes. From this close, Charles can see the tears well in his eyes. Edwin, who he's seen burn half his hand off without even noticing, is crying over Charles.

It's not really a choice, to reach out with hands that still look a little misty and pull Edwin close. Edwin clutches him back, curling his hands in the back of Charles' shirt and tucking his chin over Charles's shoulder like if he just holds Charles close enough, he can hold him together.

Maybe he can. Charles curls his own fingers into Edwin's coat, breathes deep just to feel his ribs expand into Edwin's grip, ghost-cool but firm and real, real, real.

"I was afraid you were gone," Edwin says.

I was too, Charles doesn't say.

"Told you," he murmurs instead, "you're stuck with me."