In the spirit of encouraging people to comment on fanfics while also making it easier to do so, I feel obliged to share a browser extension for ao3 that has quite literally revolutionized the comment game for me.
I present to you: the floating ao3 comment box!
From what I've seen, a big problem for many people is that once you reach the comments at the bottom of a fic, your memory of it miraculously disappears. Anything you wanted to say is stuck ten paragraphs ago, and you barely remember what you thought while reading. This fixes that!
I'll give a little explanation on the features and how it works, but if you want to skip all that, here's the link.
The extension is visible as a small blue box in the upper left corner.
(Side note: The green colouring is not from the extension, that's me.)
If you click on it, you open a comment box window at the bottom of your screen but not at the bottom of the fic. I opened my own fic for demonstrative purposes.
The website also gives explanations on how exactly it functions, but I'll summarize regardless.
insert selection -> if you highlight a sentence in the fic it will be added in italics to the comment box
add to comment box -> once you're done writing your comment, you click this button and the entire thing will automatically copied to the ao3 comment box
delete -> self explanatory
on mulitchapter fics, you will be given the option to either add the comment to just the current chapter or the entire fic
The best part? You can simply close the window the same way you opened it and your progress will automatically be saved. So you can open it, comment on a paragraph, and then close it and keep reading without having the box in your face.
Comments are what keep writers going, and as both a writer and a reader, I think it's such an easy way of showing support and enthusiasm.
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A chef!AU, maybe? In any case, a story in which Kara and Lena meet through one of them preparing/serving/etc food for the other and build their relationship based on that.
(also on ao3.)
âIâm telling you, Alex. Itâs her.â
At three pm on a Tuesday their restaurant is characteristically dead, save for the one lone customer Kara is spying on from behind the kitchen doors. The woman is perched, a little perilously, on a barstool at the counter. Itâs the one thatâs closest to their register, the one with the wobbly leg that Alex keeps telling Kara to fix. One of her red-soled heels is dangling from an impatiently bouncing left foot.
âThis is the fourth time this week sheâs come in here,â Kara says. âYou donât think thatâs just a little bit suspicious?â
Alex shrugs, fully committed to her task of mincing onions. âMaybe sheâs just a big fan of Italian food.â
âNo way,â Kara says. âNo woman who looks like that would put something in her mouth that wasnât clearly marked gluten-free and vegan. Give me your phone.â
Alex rolls her eyes dramatically as she elbows it over. âTell me again how youâre totally over Siobhan.â
âOral sex isnât a moral issue!â Kara takes a decisive breath while she unlocks her sisterâs phone with practiced ease. âWhatever. Water under the bridge.â
âUh-huh.â
âA love for pasta also doesn't explain why I heard this woman answer a call yesterday with a different name than the one thatâs on her credit card,â Kara points out, before snapping a quick picture through the porthole window.
âOkay, now youâre being creepy,â Alex says.
âShut up,â Kara tells her. âIâm texting Winn.â
Kara eyes the woman at the counter while she waits for his reply. The subject of her suspicionâLena, sheâd called herself on the phone;Â Tess Mercer, it had said on her mastercardâtwists a soft-looking lock of dark hair around her finger as she studies their menu. The way the sunlight sets it ablaze almost makes Kara take a second picture, purely for its artistic merit.
Alex dabs at her onion-induced tears with the cuff of her sleeve. âLet it go, Kara,â she sighs.
âLet it go? Let itââ Kara whirls back to face her, throwing her hands up in frustration. âDo you want The Tower to end up like Winn and Jamesâ steakhouse? Or are you fine with getting swindled by thisâthisâŠÂ villain?â
âOf course not.â Alex looks at her like sheâs stupid. âBut even if this woman is your so-called âfood influencerâ, what do you suggest we do about it? Itâs not as if we can bully her into giving us a fair review.â
Kara squares her jaw and sets her fists firmly on her hips. âNo,â she declares, her tone grim. âBut we can teach her a little about journalistic integrity.â She blows at a lock of hair thatâs fallen in her face. âAnd also, possibly, credit card fraud.â
Alex narrows her eyes at her. âKara,â she warns, putting down her knife. Her voice is low and cautious, as if sheâs talking to the rowdy raccoon that moved into their dumpster three weeks ago instead of to her baby sister. âLetâs just take a breath and think about this for a mââ
Kara is already gone, the doors to the kitchen swinging closed behind her. Sliding into the cluttered space behind the counter, she crosses her arms and then drops her elbows on the bar, leaning what she belatedly realizes is probably a little too close to her adversary. Sheâs close enough to make out the individual downy hairs on her chin and the lines in her painted lips, which are still pursed thoughtfully in what Kara is sure would look like an attractive pout to someone who didnât know any better.
But Kara knows so much better.
âLet me guess,â she remembers to get out, much less biting than originally intended. âToday youâll be having the fifth entrĂ©e down the list.â
As soon as their eyes meet over the miniscule amount of space left between them, Kara knows leaning in was a fatal mistake. Her nemesis blinks up at her with wide, startled eyes that remind Kara of the glass pebbles she finds on the beach on her morning walks, not-quite-blue and not-quite-green, and for a moment Karaâs brain sputters out as if someone abruptly turned off the flames that kept it cooking.
But the woman recovers fast, like the scheming scoundrel that she is. She guiltily shutters her eyes behind thick, charcoal lashes, and Karaâs temper revives at the observation that her enemy isnât as good of an actress as she thinks she is.
âIâve actually been thinking of breaking my own rule,â she says, with a smile that lands somewhere between self-deprecating and apologetic. âI may give in and order the same thing you served me yesterday.â Kara goes hot all over with righteous indignation at the rich timbre of the womanâs voice, the almost flirtatious lilt it takes on when she adds, âI havenât been able to stop dreaming about it.â
Kara pulls back a little in an effort to escape that curious gaze, the enticing scent of the womanâs perfume. Itâs sweet enough to drown out even Alexâs mountain of onions. âI know what youâre doing,â she blusters.
Theâfrankly unfairly beautifulâsoulless grifter stares at her, stricken. âIâmâIâm sorry?â
âYou should be,â Kara says. âI know who you are.â And then, as if sheâs putting down the last card in a game of Uno, âLena.â
The woman goes very still for a moment, and then the corners of her lips tug down in a bitter semblance of a smile. âI see,â she says. Sheâs rigid, regal; sheâs royalty perched on a wobbly wooden stool. âAnd am I to assume thatâs enough for you to turn down my patronage?â
Karaâs resolve wobbles, too. She hadnât expected her adversaryâLena, she now knowsâto roll over so easily. âWell, yeah, obviously,â she flusters, her energy suddenly too large and lumbering in the face of Lenaâs deference. âWinn and James are family.â
âFamily.â Thereâs a flicker of wistfulness in Lenaâs voice, before confusion colors her features. âSo the cold shoulder,â she says. âItâs personal?â
Kara scoffs. The fraudster doesnât even remember the names of her latest victims. Typical. âIt was their steakhouse that you razed to the ground last month,â Kara reminds her.
Lena blinks at her. âThe establishment just up the road?â She raises a critical eyebrow. âIâm pretty sure they set themselves up for failure when they decided to name their restaurant Misteak.â
Kara huffs. Her air quotes are appropriately vicious when she says, âThey were doing just fine before your slanderous âreviewâ went viral.â
Lena does a remarkably convincing impression of someone who is genuinely flabbergasted. âI donât even know what that means.â
âLiar.â
Lenaâs shocked laughter is bright but brief. Itâs the first time Kara has heard her laugh. Itâs maddeningly attractive and deeply annoying.
âOkay,â Lena says. She folds her arms in front of her chest and leans back a little in her seat, unaware of its delicate disposition. A smirk tugs at one corner of her mouth. âTell me,â she says, her eyes narrowing. âWho do you think I am, exactly?â
Kara leans in close again, refusing to allow Lena to get the upper hand. Sheâd like to wipe that smirk from Lenaâs faceâmanually, if need beâpreferably, even, if it means sheâd get to smudge that infuriatingly immaculate lipstick with her thumbâ
âYou,â Kara charges, in an effort to drown out that unhelpful thought, âare a fraud. You call yourself a âmystery food criticâ on TikTok, but really youâre blackmailing businesses into buying a favorable review.â
âHey, um.â Alex has followed her out of the kitchen, holding her phone. âSo. Winn texted back, and he saysââ
But Lena laughs again, her guarded posture melting down to unmistakable relief. âIâm so sorry,â she says, her voice a high warble. âThat sounds awful. And also extremely illegal. Have you reported this person to the authorities? I can get you in touch with an excellent lawyer, if youâd like.â
Kara doesnât know if she feels more outraged or confused.
âŠOr possibly some secret third thing.
âSo youâre telling meââ Kara barks out a disbelieving laugh. âYouâre saying youâre not her.â
âThis, ehmâ Tic Tac person?â When Lenaâs dark lashes flutter, something in Karaâs chest flutters too. âNo.â
Impossible. âThen why have you been in here every day this week?â Kara interrogates, the full force of evidence sheâs collected behind it. âWhen neither one of us has seen you here even once, since we opened?â
Alex rolls her eyes. âI told you I wasnât sure whether Iâd seen her here before,â she points out. âAlso, Winn saysââ
âOh please,â Kara scoffs, her eyes fixed on Lena, who has propped her elbows on the counter again, closer now than sheâd been the last time their eyes met. âAs if you could forget a woman as beautiful asââ Karaâs gaze drops to Lenaâs mouth, unbidden, when Lena parts those rude, ruby lips. â...You.â
Alex stares.
Kara swallows.
Lena blinks; two times fast, and then again, after a beat, slow and sticky, her eyes darkening.
âSo you may as well come out with it,â Kara croaks out what little remains of her anger. âThereâs something you want more than our fettuccine.â
Lenaâs cheeks have turned a treacherously charming shade of pink. âI suppose youâre right about that one, at least,â she admits after a beat.
In Karaâs peripheral vision, Alex frantically slides her hand across her throat. Kara frowns at her, telegraphing a wordless what is your problem but finding no satisfactory answer in the crimson shade her sisterâs face has taken on.
âYeah, well,â she says, almost disappointed, fumbling to fill the space left by Lenaâs confession. âIâm telling you right now that itâs never going to happen.â
Alex clears her throat with startling force. âWinn wants to know,â she says, reading from her phone, âWhoâs the hot chick?â
When Kara returns her gaze to the woman on the other side of the counter, she gulps. Lena is somehow even closer than she was before. Sheâs also fully propping herself up now on the laminate surface between them, granting Kara a glimpse of freckled cleavage that in no possible universe could be interpreted as unintentional.
âSo,â Lena drawls. âWhat youâre saying is youâre not going to give me your number?â
Karaâs throat is suddenly very dry.
âHuh?â she manages, but only just barely.
âI was hoping,â Lena says slowly, that maddening smirk once again tugging up the corner of her mouth, âthat youâd maybe like toââ
Lena shifts in her seat, crossing her legs in what is bound to become a devastatingly seductive pose, but the barstool decides in exactly that moment that's itâs finally had enough. Lena yelps as it gives out beneath her with a dramatic snap, one of its rickety limps flying across the floor as if celebrating its first taste of freedom, and Karaâs never considered herself to be very quick, but here she is anyway, on the other side of the counter in what feels like less than a second, one hand gripping Lenaâs forearm, the other slipping smoothly around her waist.
ââfuck,â Lena gasps up at her. She feels good, in Karaâs hands, slight but pleasantly heavy, like the santoku knife Alex has forbidden Kara from touching ever again. âWell,â Lena says. âThatâs. Perhaps not the way I would have phrased it, especially in front of your friendââ
They both glance over at Alex, but sheâs disappeared, the swaying of the kitchen doors the only indication she was ever there.
âO-kay,â Kara says.
Lena grins. âOkay?â
Kara mentally rewinds the conversation and feels her ears burn at the realization of what she just agreed to. âI mean,â she amends. âWe could, maybe, grab something to eat first?â
Something devious sparks in Lenaâs terrifyingly gorgeous face. She glances down at Karaâs arms before blinking back up at her again and smirking. âI thought you already had.â
And, goodness gracious.
Kara is about to be in so much trouble.
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