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metapikakirby42 · 6 years

Text

RPDR S10 EP3

My friend sort of hinted at the outcome...I’m preparing myself...

Monique is forgettable? Oh no Ma’am! She’s the production of the show!

the Sponge is the meme of the season....lol

Monique will step her pussy up Vixen. But she should have been top first week. Not sorry ‘bout it. Still salty.

Okay but this mini-challege was classic but the cringe was their. It was hilarious af tho too. XD

Blair St. Clair is the Trinity Taylor for me. What a queen.

I’m worried for Yuhua... q.q

SCREENSHOT ASIA’s FACE. I WANT THAT. THATS ME.

YUHUA NOOOOOO!! She should of katya’d that shit and just rolled around like a (un-)sexy mess. :(

BITCH NO. THATS FUCKED UP. NO SPIDERS. STAP. q.q Make it stop...

DUSTY q.q . . . we entered RuPaul’s best therapy race q.q

Lol Vixen. It’s fucking true. She came to fight. She’s here to contest Phi Phi as the greatest villain of all time--no ma’am you wont beat her. But hey, I wish I was confident like Vixen--or should I say...cocky...

Category: FEATHERS.

Blair: Okay...so like...she’s beautiful, but like...it’s just a dress...with...feathers attached? I’m getting...glamor chicken that looks....uh...tacky? meh toot.

Miz Cracker: TOOT. Clean design. Wonderful color. Love the bird’s nest on top the head. My one critique is the gold “cage” skirt needed more rigid shape and not flounce in my opinion. but love it.

Eureka: YASSS TOOOT. This is how you do evil feathers. THE LOAF IS BACK. Omg she glued a crow/raven to her arm lol

Vixen: toot...so I love how the gown is asymmetrical and wraps in an “un-traditional” way. My issue is the...hair... I think it would have been fiercer if she had long straight hair (like Chi Chi’s wig reveal look) OR a clean slickback with a bun with feathers coming out of it. But eh...toot.

MONIQUE: YASSSSSS. angelic white....love it. What a goddess.

Mayhem: love the pink feathers. It’s a lovely color. the contacts are a nice touch. but the open chest is very reminiscent of her first week look. the nude in the back...something about me feels like if it was open it would have been better. But I dunno lol. toot.

Dusty: I’m conflicted. Because I love it. But I also hate it. It makes sense to me. but it feels disjointed. The Hair doesn’t work...yet it does... The make up is pretty great...but like...it’s not matching the feathers. I’m gonna toot it. But its strange lol.

Kameron: HOLY SHIT. SHOOT. q.q this is amazing. What an amazing outfit. Good stuff. She may not be a huge character, but this look is everything q.q

Monet: meh toot. boring. here’s the thing...I get it. but the “two-piece” element is throwing me off. Not bad. But meh. Neck up is perfect as always tho.

ASIA: OMG. I’m dead. THIS IS HILARIOUS. I LOVE IT. TOOT.

Yuhua: okay so like I love this. Not necessarily original. BUT it’s cohesively good. It’s campy. It’s beautiful. TOOT.

Aquaria: NOW THIS IS GOOD SHIT. Cohesively unique. A dead bird. YASSSSSS. TOOT.

End of Days: 8/10. Miz cracker stood out the most to me. Eureka was also lovely to watch.

Fibster: uh.... 6/10. Kameron...was so-so. Mayhem disappeared and had practically nothing. Dusty and Monique did pretty well. The concept wasn’t as clear as End of Days...

Butterface: okay....ASIA....I love you. This was what I was waiting for! OKAY BUT BRYCE STROKING AQUARIA’s nose is everything. Yuhua...my fave failed me q.q . But she got to fuck with a blow-up doll. uh...7/10.

No Carson...no. Michelle was right this time.

MAKE ASIA WIN. PLZ.

-.- okay...I’m over this...call out my bias...but whatever... oh no...Yuhua is going home q.q ...

Ru sounds...sick lol

-.-

ASIA WON. YES.

MY GURL YUHUA IS GOING HOME q.q

Mayhem looks like she about to kill a bitch...and she did. At least Yuhua did her best q.q

“YUHUA YOU GONNA REMEMBER ME.” I DO GURL. I LOVE YOU. SLAY. WO YE AI NI! (I love you too).

q.q so my team didn’t win again...I knew it...but she went home earlier q.q . Vanessa is gone. Yuhua is gone. MONIQUE I’M ROOTING FOR YOU. MAKE IT TO TEH END GURL. PLZ.

OTHER NOTES:

So vixen is right. Aquaria was destroyed in Untucked (a la her outfit). Vixen is extra, but unapologetically so. I respect that. But she’s a retaliatory queen. Don’t fight if you don’t want to get put together. Don’t dish what you can’t take. Vixen was on point the entire time--very aware. Can I be Vixen so I can actually fight my own battles for once? Lol.

Monique staring at Mayhem and Kameron talking on the side. 0 . 0 shooketh.

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femslashy · 6 years

Text

begin again | chapter nine

It’s been three years since Baz left the sleepy Isle of Mage to attend university in London, and he hasn’t regretted a thing–except maybe leaving Simon behind. Convinced he’ll never be forgiven, Baz refuses to even visit until a frantic phone call from his stepmother sends him running home. Once there, Baz is forced to confront his past, question the future, and maybe, just maybe, get that second chance he’s always desired.

genre(s): angst+fluff+smut

chapter length: 2496 words

triggers/warnings: none for this chapter (unless u don’t like endings)

author’s note: IT’S HERE *flails wildly* a giant (GIANT) thank you as always to @amandaisnotwriting & @rainbowbaz for the beta/britpicking and also for generally just being amazing and super supportive through this entire process 💜💜 full acknowledgments will be posted at the end of the chapter (THE FINAL ONE q.q)

I don’t know how many laws I’ve just broken. I honestly don’t give a fuck, because I’ve managed to get to the island before midnight, even if it’s not by much. According to my phone, I’ve got roughly 20 minutes left, meaning it’s taken me almost 3 hours to get from London to here.

But it’s worth it; Simon is worth it. I’d cross the ocean for him. I’m in love with him. And I need to let him know. Need to tell him I made a mistake, the same mistake I made six years ago when I thought I could leave this place behind. When I thought I could leave Simon behind.

My thin jumper is no match for the frigid December air, especially not with the droplets of sea spray still clinging to the fabric. It’s not good for the wool, I’m sure, but I can’t bring myself to care. My mind is focused on getting to Simon; damp sweater—and soaked shoes—be damned.

It’s spooky out here in the dark by myself. I’m not sure I know how to get to Simon’s cottage in the pitch black, but I still head off in the general direction anyway, determined.

Eventually, I find it. One of the goats is still awake, pure white coat gleaming in the moonlight, and it bleats softly as I make my way up the path to Simon’s door. I shush it.

“I won’t have you ruining the surprise,” I say, and the goat just stares. And rolls its eyes. (Can goats roll their eyes?) (Right, that’s not important right now. Simon is important. Simon is the most important.)

I pull a face at the goat, and it bleats again, louder. I wince as the sound pierces the silent night, and wait one, two, three beats before deciding that Simon hasn’t heard, and that it’s safe to walk up the steps to his porch.

My shoes squelch loudly every step of the way, and finally I’m there, standing outside his door. My stomach rolls; this was a good idea when I wasn’t thinking too hard. When my only thought was Simon, get to Simon. But now I’m here, and I’m fucking terrified.

I feel something hit my leg, and it’s the bloody goat nudging me with its head. I yelp as the horns press against my thigh, and then there’s the sound of footsteps coming from inside the house.

Shit.

The goat trots off towards the others, leaving me all alone on the porch when Simon opens the door.

“No,” he says, and starts to close it on me.

“Wait!”

Simon manages to shut me out, but I don’t leave. The curtain covering the window next to the door flutters, and I manage to catch Simon’s eye. His face is a blank mask, and when I attempt to smile at him, he shakes his head and disappears from view.

Undeterred—I’ve come too far to give up now—I knock on the door, the rap of my knuckles echoing my rapidly increasing heartbeat.

“Go away, Baz.” I hear him call through the door, and I knock again. Suddenly, my knuckles meet air, and Simon’s in front of me, scowling sullenly.

“Why are you here?”

“I’m here to see you,” I say like it’s obvious. Simon doesn’t look convinced. “And I want to apologise. For leaving. For being selfish. Both times. Leaving you—both times—has been the worst decision I ever made. The hardest and the worst, and if I could take it all back, I would. Because I love you, Simon.” I press on, when he doesn’t respond. “I love you. I’m in love with you. Christ, I’m so in love with you that it drives me mad sometimes, and I couldn’t bear the thought of you not knowing that.”

His mouth is a thin line, but he hasn’t told me to leave again; I take that as an invitation to continue.

“I want to grow old with you.” The words tumble from my lips before I have time to think about them. “I want to come home to you. I want you to come home to me. I want you. I want us. I want this.”

“Your home is in London,” he says finally, and I shake my head.

“My home is here,” I correct him. “My home is…,” I can’t believe I’m about to admit this, “my home is here. My home is you. It’s always been you, love, I was just too blind to realise.”

I gasp when Simon shoves me. Hard. “You don’t get to do this, Baz,” he spits, “you can’t do this to me, not again. You can’t. It’s not fair.”

“I know, I—”

“You can’t just come back and expect everything to be okay!” He’s almost yelling now, his hands are in his hair, tugging on his curls, messing them up. My nails dig into my palms as I fight the urge to fix them. “Fuck, Baz, do you have any idea how much this hurts?”

I do.

“You left me again,” he says, and I start to nod, but stop, because I’m not sure what he’s referencing.

“You told me to go. At your house. You told me to go.”

“I told you to get out. I didn’t…I didn’t expect you to—I looked for you. I looked for you, and I even went to your house. Your parents were well surprised to see me. I’m pretty sure your father hates me. Daphne was nice though, even if she seemed a bit sad that you didn’t tell them you were back.”

“I told you I hadn’t. That’s why I didn’t have a car and we had to walk to your house.”

“I thought you were trying to be romantic.”

“You’re an idiot,” I say, and Simon cracks a smile. And then it’s gone.

“I’m still angry with you.”

“If it helps, I’m angry with me too.”

“It doesn’t.”

“That’s fair. But you also never gave me a chance to explain.”

He crosses his arms. “Go ahead.”

Thrown, I work to gather my thoughts into something coherent. “When I came back…” I start, and then falter. “Coming back to Watford, seeing you, being with you, allowing myself to love you…fuck, Simon, I was happy. I was so happy. Happier than I’ve been in years.”

His face twists. It looks like he’s in pain. “You can’t just say those things, you can’t just say things that you don’t mean. You can’t just… you can’t do this to me, Baz. Not again.”

“But I do mean them,” I plead. “I realised I was wrong. I was so wrong. This was never about returning to Watford. This has always been about you. And you’ve made Watford your home. So…” I don’t know if I can say it yet. “I thought nothing could convince me to return to the island permanently. But I was wrong. Because…because it’s you.” I don’t know what else to say, and the expression on Simon’s face has me convinced it’s time to go. I turn, only to be jerked back when Simon grabs me by the wrist.

“Wait,” he says. “I have to know. Why now? Why did you wait until now to tell me all of this?”

“Because…” I swallow. “Because I decided I didn’t want to be scared anymore.”

“Scared of what?”

“Getting hurt.”

“Bloody h—fuck. Fuck. Okay. Fuck, okay.” Simon takes a deep breath, and then another, and looks me straight in the eye. “How do I know you won’t leave again?”

I blink in surprise. “Wait…just like that? You’re forgiving me just like that?”

“Of course not,” he says, “but I want to. So, how do I know you won’t do this again?”

“I suppose you don’t,” I admit. “I suppose you’ll just have to trust me.”

“And should I? Trust you?”

“I’d certainly prefer it,” I say drily, and Simon’s smile makes an appearance again. This time, it stays.

“If you do that to me again,” Simon says, jamming his finger into my chest, “I’m going to kick your arse.” He’s trying his best to look menacing, but it’s not working. I can see right through him. He’s still smiling.

Pulling his hand away from my chest, I link our fingers together, tugging him forward.

“I wouldn’t expect anything different.”

“I’m serious, Baz.”

“I know you are.”

Simon laughs softly and bites his lip. “So, what do we do now?”

“That depends,” I answer, “Do they still set off fireworks in the square?”

He nods, and leans into my space, resting his chin on my shoulder. I let him. (As if there were any chance I wouldn’t)

We stay like that, Simon pressed against me, still holding onto my wrist, when I hear the woman on the telly announce that it’s time to start counting down.

“It’s almost midnight,” he whispers, and something about him trying to be quiet when it’s just the two of us sends a shiver down my spine.

I ghost my lips against the curve of his jaw. “Are you ready?”

He nods and drops my wrist, bringing his hands up to rest on my waist now. The heat of them spreads through my whole body, and he murmurs “ten” along with the crowd.

“Nine,” My pulse is thrumming in my ears now; I can’t believe this is real.

“Eight,” Simon says, and shivers as I move my hands up his back, past his shoulders, to his cheeks. I cup them. He’s nearly cross eyed, we’re so close.

“Seven,” he breathes, and at the same time I tell him, “I love you.” He closes his eyes and whimpers.

We chant the next numbers in tandem, each one bringing us closer and closer to new year.

I stop counting at four, leaving Simon to whisper the remaining three on his own, and then I’m crashing my lips into his, slipping my tongue past the seam of his mouth and licking inside. He moans into the kiss and I have to work to keep my knees from buckling.

The fireworks begin bursting in the background, but I can’t be bothered to look. All I want to do right now is kiss Simon, so I do. I do, and I do, and I do. Simon’s mumbling something against my lips that sounds like “I love you,” and my heart feels lighter than it has in a long time.

He laughs, and it comes out sounding a bit wet. “Happy New Year, Baz.”

“Happy New Year, Simon,” I reply, and he pulls me close, rests his chin on my shoulder. I kiss his temple, letting my lips linger and drinking in this feeling; soaking in the anticipation of a new year; a fresh start.

Simon’s hips bump mine and I realise he’s swaying, attempting to dance to the music coming from inside. Without warning, I spin around and dip him low to the ground. He watches me with wide, trusting eyes, and I’m so in love with him in this moment that it hurts.

“Kiss me,” he whispers, and I do.

I do, and I do, and I do, and I don’t stop until his hand comes up to rest on the back of my neck. I can feel it slowly creeping up until he’s tugging at the sensitive hairs at my nape, making me yelp and break the kiss. “What the hell, Simon!”

He doesn’t even look guilty. “I like your hair better down.”

“So use your words, you numpty.”

He doesn’t of course—when has he ever?— and his hand continues its journey up, up, up until he’s tugging at the hairband. I don’t say anything, barely breathing as he gently works it loose, tossing it over the rail and grinning as my hair tumbles down and hits my shoulders.

And then he’s kissing me again, tangling his fingers in my hair and pulling just enough to send tingles of pleasure down my spine—just enough to feel amazing. I moan into his mouth; he’s doing that nice thing with his chin that I’ve missed so much, and I’ve got no idea how I thought I could get through life without Simon Snow’s kisses.

“You don’t have to,” he murmurs against my lips, and I realise I must have spoken aloud. Too ecstatic to be properly embarrassed, I grab onto his shoulders and press my mouth to his more insistently. We’ve got to make up for lost time, after all—six years of it.

Simon breaks the kiss and scrapes his nails against my shoulder blades, making me shiver with want. “Do you want to stay over?”

“Okay. But I have to get up early to return a boat,” I say, leaning into his touch.

His hands fall. “You…a boat…return—what?”

I bite my lip so I don’t ruin the moment by laughing at his expression. His eyes are wide and he’s looking at me in disbelief; I can tell the moment it registers, when he asks, “you stole a boat for me?” His voice is small, not matching his wide grin.

“Technically, it’s only stealing if you don’t plan to return it.”

“You stole a boat for me.” This time it’s a statement, not a question, and I don’t get a chance to correct him again before Simon launches himself at me and I’m stumbling backwards. My back hits the rail of his porch, but I don’t feel it as Simon clings to me.

I let him, even though his grip is making it hard for me to breathe. I don’t need to breathe, I decide; not if it means staying in Simon’s arms like this for the rest of my life.

“I can’t believe…a boat—Baz, that’s crazy! That’s absolutely fucking mental. Why didn’t you just wait until tomorrow? Why did you have to steal a fucking boat?”

“Because the ferry stopped running,” I say like it’s obvious, “and I had to get to you.”

“But you could have waited until tomorrow.”

“No, I couldn’t have. I had to see you, I couldn’t wait. I couldn’t risk losing you again.”

Simon still looks stunned. “You’re mad. Like, completely. Mad.”

“Probably,” I say. “Do you hate it?”

He shakes his head. “I could never hate you. Even when I was the most—I could never hate you. And I am so, so happy that—shit, Baz, you have no idea how happy I am that you’re here. That you came…you came back to me.”

The relief in his voice as he murmurs the words into my ear makes me choke up all over again. I don’t want to think about how hurt he must have been, how I’d been the one to hurt him. I can’t let myself think about that. All I want to think about is getting him inside, letting him know how much I love him, convincing him I’m going to stay. That I won’t leave him again. Not ever.

“Simon,” I say, “love, let’s get inside.”

He nods against my shoulder, and I gently push him towards the door. We cross the threshold at the same time, lips meeting as the last of the fireworks crackle in the air.

And we begin again.

~fin

and now onto the acknowledgements 💜

@theshyauthor: i would like to start this off by saying this fic is 100% ur fault

…

okay just kidding but seeing the journey you went on to write twt was awesome and then i got to experience a bit of it with you as a beta and it was Awesome and then my dumb ass decided i wanted to write a Big Fic and then a few days later i stumbled across the headcanon that inspired the original version of this fic (which i can’t find rn and also op left tumblr which makes me sad :c but i might search and reblog it later *shrug* also rip writer!simon and the weird email plotline ahahaha) ANYWAY so yes you accidentally inspired this and then i repaid u by accidentally naming a character after you whoops 😂 also i feel like these are going to double a bit as my end-of-year posts so i want to say how happy i am that we became friends and also that some rando on wattpad decided to repost both of our stories and that is the only time i will ever be happy about reposts lmao 💜

@arituzz , @carryonsimoncarryon , @theinsidiouspitch , @bazwearsjeans , @bazinjeanstm , @snowbazilu all of my other amazing friends: thank you so much for putting up with me through the literally Year it took to birth this fucking fic (and i somehow still ended up writing it as a i went along ddsjkfjksd) i appreciate you all and if i forgot someone i am so very sorry it’s been a Week and i’m emotional and doing the train of though thing rn but thank you!! y’all have helped shape this fic so much!! 💜 (i’m sorry for lumping you all together but you are not lumped together in my heart and also that heart can’t take much more emotional ranting haha but expect some of that later today okay byee)

@bazwillendinflames: ellie ellie ellieeee my number one fan ahahaha (sorry about the callout i had to :p) thank you for always leaving the nicest comments on all of my stuff and letting me ramble to you about fic stuff and just idk liking my fics?? idek what to say and also i’m talking to you right this very minute and it feels weird to be grossly sentimental while simultaneously doing that so i’ll leave this here but just know i appreciate you! and your rambling comments and support! and sorry about ebb! 💜

@kclenhartnovels: i am ngl you intimidating me at first because you’re a proper writer and i just write fic but !!! thank you for all the encouragement and word wars and just !!! and also for being my friend!! and being awesome!! and i 100% planned for these to sound a lot more coherent and not-crazy but oh well!! thank you 💜

@rainbowbaz: you came into this later on but holy shit?? holy shit?? so so soooo much of this fic was improved by you and your britpicking and also your support?? and all the times you’ve sat on the doc with me and helped when i was stuck!! this fic wouldn’t be what it is without you honestly and you really do deserve co-writer credits on chapter 7 :p 💜 (ps thank you for agreeing to join me in larry land in 2018 ahaha_

@amandaisnotwriting: oh yeah i almost forgot you

…

KIDDING OBVIOUSLY NFDFJKDSKF

amandaa i honestly don’t know how to put all of my stupid stupid gross emotions into words and also how do you say *choked sob* sarcastically idk man but holy shit we did it we did it we did it WE DID IT I LOVE US AND I WILL SCREM TO U SOME MORE ON WHATSAPP BUT WE DID IT we fucking DID IT

also i dedicate this dumb fic to u or w/e,,, nbd (💜 💜 💜 💜 💜 💜 💜 💜 💜 💜 💜)

#snowbaz #carry on #snowbaz fanfiction #carry on fanfiction #exes to lovers #fic begin again #FINAL CHAPTER CDJFBJKFDBJKFD

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phynali · 6 years

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4,5,6?

AHHHHHH I JUST REFRESHED MY PAGE AND LOST MY LONG AND GLORIOUS ANSWER WHEN I WAS ONE LINE SHY OF FINISHING IT. Q.Q

(seriously I’m so sad but I will re-type it)

4. How many fic ideas are you nurturing right now? Care to share one of them?

... so many. too many. always too many.

one fic i’m working on behind the scenes is a pretty violent story, actually. it involves a villain who can control people with just her voice (i.e., the power of suggestion, think Kilgrave from Jessica Jones). that power is devastating and she gives our heroes absolutely hell. she’s cruel and in many ways a bit childish, doing things for the hell of it because she’s never really had much in the way of consequences in her life. basically, she’s a spoiled brat and the picture of entitlement.

in many ways, i’m guessing my subconscious came up with her as a commentary on... something. fandom, in some ways, and fan creators, like a serious self-dig. i’ve decided not to explore her motives much though and not bother with the sob-backstory, but rather focus on the heroes overcoming her through teamwork (it takes some serious teamwork from a lot of different people). we’ll see if i get around to finishing the story, because it is pretty dark in places.

another narrative i’ve been daydreaming up in the past week or so is an original story loosely based on coldflash. not surprisingly, it involves a hero (college-aged, around 21) and a villain (about 7-10 years older than that?). the hero’s had powers since he was about 16 but only joined the hero game within the past year, and the villain specializes in taking out powered people. as you can imagine, he’s targeting the “new player” in his city, going after our hero.

the catch?

the hero and villain know each other outside of their alter-egos, they just don’t know it. the villain was bffs with the hero’s older brother, who died about 10 years back (maybe 5-7 years back idk), and probably died specifically saving the villain. the villain promised him he’d look after his younger brother (the hero) though they don’t have much contact, really, not since the funeral. but the villain checks in once a year or so and helps pay the hero’s tuition and knows his mother etc.

of course, when the hero discovers that the villain is him - is this person he kind of idolized and feels indebted to and kind of crushes on, he’s left reeling, and pulling away, and trying to refuse his tuition help etc. he’s left with crushing questions about his brother and what kind of person he actually was.

but the scene i’ve been most focused on in my head is when the villain gets a crew and manages to actually take down the hero and dampens his powers and decides that before killing him, he wants to see his face, only to discover it’s the person he’s promised to protect (like, as a life-debt). of course, that throws a wrench in things too.

the themes in my head are... well the story is definitely pretty violent, and there’s some negotiating of what it means to be a hero, but there’s also a lot of... how we romanticize our ghosts, and idealize our heroes (the older brother), and negotiating that, and how we come to terms with our past and our actions (the villain’s) and our own failures and failings.

idk, it’s captivating me, even though it’s an original idea i figured i’d share :)

5. Share one of your strengths.

characterization, most likely.

because i write tv-based fic mostly, i work hard to keep characters consistent with their actions as we know them from the canon (while still giving myself space to explore more), and to keep their dialogue consistent with how they sound on the tv. i do some linguistic analysis on most characters to try to capture their unique ‘voice’ when i can.

one thing i also do is try to let the characters guide the narrative more than forcing their choices and actions to conform to my plot. i’ll re-imagine and sometimes even re-write the same scene from the point of view of more than one character in it to make sure the character really would say what i have them saying, or do what i have them doing. more than once i’ve re-written the same scene from a different character’s pov only to have their dialogue and even actions change. getting in their heads helps me keep their characterization unique to them and also consistent. it might not perfectly match them on screen but it does stay consistent within the narrative i build?

6. Share one of your weaknesses.

wordiness and tangents.

not only am i painfully verbose, but my brain goes in a thousand directions at once. so i tend to write really long stories (unnecessarily so, sometimes) but i also introduce subplots on subplots, and introduce tangents as threads that just get cut rather than being explored in depth. sometimes this works in my favour if i’m lucky because a random thread can come back later as a plot point (or as a nice red-herring!), but more often i add a bunch of stuff because i’m hedging my bets as i don’t have everything figured out yet, and some of it just turns out pointless and would be better off trimmed from the final narrative.

this happens in part because i work from relatively loose outlines (to give my characters room to change the narrative) and because i post WIPs as i go, rather than waiting till the end or until i have time to revise. i’m working on streamlining a bit, but it’s a work in progress ^^;

#whoops this got long #i got excited to talk about this daydream story i've been having #redhead vs. writing #fanfiction #writing #ask memes #:)#Anonymous #replies

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