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About Deviant Senior Member Joseph Louis Gay-LussacUnknown Groups :iconthewrittenrevolution: theWrittenRevolution
The words are the spark.
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Deviant for 9 Years
Core Member 'til Hell freezes over
Statistics 341 Deviations 31,514 Comments 115,295 Pageviews

Random from DDs I Featured

Literature
lynx lore.
grass underneath my bare, boney feet
heat lightning splicing through the air,
hot, & thick, & buzzing
summer nights,
feeling good about the fact that:
you don't know how I love Run the Jewels,
I didn't get them from you
&, you don't know what I thought in that van, but I do
&, I am trying to forgive you
but, here I am dancing, & lonely, & not
here I am unshaven legs & ten shades of I don't give a fuck
here I still love the world, bruises, scars & all
I catch myself breathing,
in four,
out four
so steady, so stretched, so still;
a lynx before the leap
:iconetre-aime:etre-aime
:iconetre-aime:etre-aime 35 22
Literature
The Wall [Teaser]
     "You took care of everything, right?"
    Miles fumbled with the key ring in the darkness. His heart pounded. He couldn't see the other man in the shadows, but he could feel his breath on his face, and he could hear him as he reached into his coat pocket. Something cool and flat was pressed against Miles' arm, then slipped into the pocket of his dress pants.
    "You can keep your name and everything," Jace assured him. Miles pictured his smug grin and bit the inside of his cheek; his hand slipped, and the key sliced the side of his wrist.
    "You'd better keep up your end," he mumbled. Jace reached over and pried the key ring from his hands.
    "You know I will." There was a soft clink as the key slid effortlessly onto the metal ring. Jace dropped it back into Miles' shaking palm.
    "How do I find the place?" Miles put the ring in his pocket alongside what he assumed was an ID car
:iconAvis-Merlo:Avis-Merlo
:iconavis-merlo:Avis-Merlo 22 26
Blackout Poetry 3 by ClassyWalruses Blackout Poetry 3 :iconclassywalruses:ClassyWalruses 356 28
Literature
Dementia Takes Him
Say hello to the old man and
he'll respond with good morning
because he's lost his track on time.
He stands like a hunched statue
and shuffles about like
a child still testing his steps.
Deteriorate and deteriorate
until all words become movements,
until movements become a thought.
He does not bother to sit
for any of his meals but reaches
for it from a standing position
like a cautious animal.
Sleep. His sleeping habits
would make a sloth smile.
Rest in the hospital bed
but stay in your home.
Deteriorate and deteriorate
until words become movements.
Just flesh and bone,
just so much bone to the old man,
a fragile case of worn out paper.
Deteriorate and deteriorate
until all words become movements,
until all movements become thought,
until all thought becomes dark.
:iconDaughter-Of-TheMoon:Daughter-Of-TheMoon
:icondaughter-of-themoon:Daughter-Of-TheMoon 53 38
Literature
Poltercat
I always considered myself a person of reason, and of course, at the time I had reasoned that the boxed cat on the passenger's seat of my automobile couldn't possibly be the one I had run over.
It was a common breed, with a common coat. Statistically speaking, the identical hanger on the identical collar could have been a freak occurrence, though wholly explainable by chance, given enough cats with non-matching accessories being run over on a global scale on a daily basis.
Coming home, I had just enough time to unbox the animal and reach for the telephone, before I learned that my great-aunt had died in hospital, and I realised that my 'guest' was now promoted to heirloom and my official property.
-”Auntie's dead,” I told the scraggy thing. It blinked, once and slowly. 'I know' it seemed to imply, somehow smugly.
And that was that – for that day.
**
I woke up to the smell of coffee – an unfamiliar thing, given my bachelor's life. The brew sat
:iconBATTLEFAIRIES:BATTLEFAIRIES
:iconbattlefairies:BATTLEFAIRIES 70 112
Literature
The Stars (Are Out Tonight) - Full Version
Squinting at his reflection, Frankie put the final touches on his makeup. He did a quick itinerary check of the contents of his purse, hitched up his tights, adjusted the starry metallic fabric of his miniskirt and blew his reflection a kiss. Not perfect, but it would have to pass muster as he was already far too late. 
It was Saturday night and his brother Henry was being moody, watching reruns of the same news that had been playing on the telly all day, as though he was still waiting for the ramifications to sink in.
—Population levels have now reached an all time high, prompting Governments across the globe to once again consider Dr. John Eisen’s long disputed Planned-Birth Policy, which would require licensing and pre-approval for prospective parents. Making all non-approved births, in essence, illegal.
The proposal has sparked serious concerns among the growing pro-life supporters in Great Britain and across the world. They claim that it is
:iconThe-Inkling:The-Inkling
:iconthe-inkling:The-Inkling 29 22
Literature
Mountain Man
It’s 9:30 AM on a snow-bright morning and he’s whistling loudly. He treads through slush, meets us college kids at the bus stop, and speaks with alcohol-stale breath.
“G’mornin’, young ladies!” He sounds like country and warm summer farms.
We smile and nod, let him ramble because no one likes a drunkard. No one likes the obnoxious honesty, the rancid vulnerability. Keep the sadness at home, sir, for you must be a sad, sad man to be drinking so early. Or, if you don’t have overdue bills and four nicotine-stained walls, finish your beer at your usual street corner.
Don’t speak to him.
Ignore him.

“I’m fifty-four years old!” He takes a staggering swig and the iced sidewalk suddenly seems perilous. “I’ve lived a looong, long life!”
The screeching of bus brakes beckons dread. A couple of us glance at each other, not intentionally being cruel with our judgment, but it’s a Monday morning and we ar
:iconheart-terrors:heart-terrors
:iconheart-terrors:heart-terrors 52 33
Literature
Familial
    “He used to scream at me for anything that went wrong, even if it wasn’t my fault.” Becca tells me, sitting across from me on the couch and fiddling with the pockets of her jacket. “The abuse pretty quickly went from verbal to physical. He’d hold me down on the ground and choke me until I passed out. One time, I jabbed him in the ribs as hard as I could to make him let go, and he punched me so hard in the jaw, it cracked my back teeth.”
    I nod. She’s not telling me anything I couldn’t have guessed. Nothing he could’ve done to her would surprise me.
    “When he found out I was pregnant, he tried to beat her out of me. He’d punch me as hard as he could, putting me back on the bed so he was hitting right on the mark. The whole time he kept punching and kicking me in the stomach, he was telling me he loved me. He was doing it because he loved me.” I halfway expect he
:icondeidaras-handmouths:deidaras-handmouths
:icondeidaras-handmouths:deidaras-handmouths 43 16
Literature
That One Show with the Stuff and the Things
Curtain rises. REPORTER, MR. JABOWSKI, and JACOB are all sitting around a small round table. REPORTER is writing in notepad with a bowler hat in his lap.
MR. JABOWSKI: The day my wife acquired magical powers, we sold the family business. It was the only logical choice considering that the ability to uncontrollably shoot fire out of one’s hands was not exactly conducive to maintaining a fireworks factory. I was devastated, naturally. This business had been passed down through my family for generations, from father to son ever since fireworks were first invented back in 1802.
REPORTER: Um, weren’t fireworks technically invented way back in 7th century China?
MR. JABOWSKI: No no, that’s just another government cover up ploy. You see, my ancestors, they were British. Brought fireworks to America personally when they came here. These silly American’s just don’t want to admit that the British actually did something cooler than themselves, they would rathe
:iconwispofcloud:wispofcloud
:iconwispofcloud:wispofcloud 32 13
Literature
Delusions of Grandeur
Work was done on sinking ships
In a different time, in a different place.
I had carved my name in the first piece
Of rubble to reach the ocean floor.
Hell was on the high seas,
And I went with the anchor
In the waters of what I thought
Might be my shallow grave.
Atlantis was my refuge,
For I swam with closed eyes
Out of fear of the salt.
I merely felt my way down.
I heard the howling and war
Just above my feet as I descended.
I felt the bubbles of my last breath
rush over me and back from whence they came.
I cared so little as my lungs screamed,
And the pressure crushed my being.
The anchor swam for me as submerged tides
Carried my blind way down.
Had I let go, I might have
swam away from Hell,
Though I feared one journey
more than the other.
I think I will awaken
I think I shall live
I think I can dwell
In Atlantis, should it be found.
:iconGrubbsWriting:GrubbsWriting
:icongrubbswriting:GrubbsWriting 36 16
Literature
...because all men are brothers
    “‘Bout fuckin’ time, look, he’s coming up over there.” The man on the bench beside me tapped my thigh and pointed down the darkened maglev tracks. “Twenty minutes out in the cold, Christ… now don’t you think they should run these fuckin’ trains on time? I only gotta go one stop away, might be faster for me to walk at this point, huh, sweetheart?” He spoke in a mumbling slur, shaking his head, swathed in a stained maroon North Face parka.
    I leaned forward and looked down the track. Aside from us, the platform was empty, lit hesitantly by blue OLED panels that flickered on a collection of dirty benches and overflowing rubbish bins. Silent fields of scrubby grass, gray in the moonlight, extended to the hills on one side; the plant lights glowed behind me.
    “I said hey, don’t you think– this shit needs to be run on time? Eh?” The man jostled pointedly
:iconthe-perchlorate:the-perchlorate
:iconthe-perchlorate:the-perchlorate 41 28
Literature
My England
I care not for neon lights
or garish 'stylish' clothes t' buy,
I only want the sun t' shine
in fair o' pleasant England.
I care not for new Ipads
or nipping out to take a drag,
I only want t' grab a bag
and hike in my own England.
Plastic smiles and distant hugs
I think for now I've had enough,
I only want the land I love
the moors and woods of England.
Silver bark and golden leaves
Birds sing soar in autumn breeze,
I only want the grasses green
in glowing dusk of England.
Now I'm old and still I sigh
at admirals red and foxgloves high.
Yes, I feel there's no place like
my homey fields of England.
:iconRheic-ocean:Rheic-ocean
:iconrheic-ocean:Rheic-ocean 85 69
The deviations I featured as a Literature Community Volunteer.

Newest Deviations

Literature
Winter
I remember winter in
the old stove we huddled at,
an audience of shivering limbs
within cold walls.
There was a desperation to this closeness
that love could never inspire. It glowed
within us, a common flame
we dared not feed, and through
the night we curled in embers
and burned ourselves to sleep.
I could almost remember summer’s
cotton arms, the playfulness
of ocean waves in August. Those dreams
wished to drown us beneath memories
and wishes, but
in the moment before we awoke,
as the tide cried
for me to stay, I always
always swam to shore.
Every morning, I breathed snow-capped
mountains in the air. They were nothing
more than a whisper, a winter
story awaiting beyond the
blankets that shielded me.
And I lay, waiting for a spring
I knew wasn’t coming.
:iconTheMaidenInBlack:TheMaidenInBlack
:iconthemaideninblack:TheMaidenInBlack 108 17
Mature content
Ripley's Escape :iconthemaideninblack:TheMaidenInBlack 5 4
Literature
Brother
There's a method to missing you, a
step-by-step process on tying
the knots of distance. And I follow the
instructions, twist and tighten until
blistered and bent.
Sometimes, I can feel their pull
as I stretch; it speaks
of your growing up, brother,
of the new things you get excited about
and the new people you tell that to.
And over time these knots
will dry, fossilizing 
into shape; until we wake
one day calloused,
weathered
and estranged.
:iconTheMaidenInBlack:TheMaidenInBlack
:iconthemaideninblack:TheMaidenInBlack 10 9
Literature
Contracts
"Will trade flowers for water" -
we strike a summer deal,
renewable each spring.
:iconTheMaidenInBlack:TheMaidenInBlack
:iconthemaideninblack:TheMaidenInBlack 29 16
Alfred aus dem Schwarzwald by TheMaidenInBlack Alfred aus dem Schwarzwald :iconthemaideninblack:TheMaidenInBlack 3 16
Literature
A Drop Of Your Blood, Please
It's been a year since they found their "humanity", and I made a small fortune off of it.
"I barely escaped it myself. The curtain must have malfunctioned, or I'd have been cut in half."
I press a button, refill his glass; a few weeks ago, a robot would have done that. "I have no trouble believing that. How many are we talking about?"
It seems incredible now, but we loved robots. In a technologically-advanced society, where method and practicality were everything, the idea behind them embodied the essence of the future man. Maybe we underestimated how much they actuallty were like men, though... "Hey, get it together. How. Many." I ask again, a bit pissed off as I stare into my client's sleep-deprived eyes.
Robots were the only measure we had left in our scrambling to save the planet after we pushed it past the point of no return; and thank "god" the referendum on robots didn't end up like the one to fund NASA's space exploration, I thought at first. I don't even kno
:iconTheMaidenInBlack:TheMaidenInBlack
:iconthemaideninblack:TheMaidenInBlack 19 17
Literature
The Celery Murder
A delicious smell hit them as they walked in, making them exchange a look that said "Someone might have died, but god I'm hungry"
In the kitchen, a big saucepan boiled happily over the stove. Clink, clink, clink - its lid went, until Mrs. Potts moved it a little. She was a lovely old lady, the kind that brought her neighbours baked goodies, went to church regularly and made amazing dinners for her husband. 
Yet somehow, the dead body on the sofa with a knife through it disagreed. He was gripping something in his hand, hunched forward in a final bow.
"I'm so sorry, officers. I just couldn't take it anymore!"
Hoyt looked at Mrs. Potts in disbelief. This was a woman who'd give him and Luke candy even when their own mother didn't want her to, she was the sweetest person ever! There was a good reason for all this, surely.
"Mrs. Potts, what happened?"
She stirred the saucepan's contents while she answered, and Luke couldn't help peeking; it looked like sloppy j
:iconTheMaidenInBlack:TheMaidenInBlack
:iconthemaideninblack:TheMaidenInBlack 8 29
Literature
The kitchen trials
Cooking keeps us
from breaking, a
routine recorded and
repeated to make
it memory.
Soft chatting, a
cascade of flour and
words; strawberry
softens and fills up
the cracks, and
the mix actually
turns out well.
I love the crumbly
texture of baked memories:
a soft crunch will
tear them, and
sugarcoat the senses.
They all unknowingly
eat our secrets, and
compliment us too.
:iconTheMaidenInBlack:TheMaidenInBlack
:iconthemaideninblack:TheMaidenInBlack 15 17
Literature
Four-Letter Poems, take two
We sought a permanent recombination,
a final overwriting
of the double helix that defined me,
but I wasn't enough of a geneticist
(nor of a writer) for the
art of four-letter poems.
So we hacked to
pieces my nucleotide
bonds, we attached
and removed strings of
memories from my life's album
as if undecided on what to wear -
but, my love,
we never had any sense of
beauty.  
My chromosomes, carved as a testament
to all of our surgery sessions,
became a festival of restriction
enzymes' reactions, of when
we tore my consciousness'
nucleobases away from their seats
to fit the new occupants
of my old self.
And I see you now, my love,
through truth-telling eyes.
I never was enough of a geneticist
for the art of four-letter poems
and you unmade and
rebuilt me just to
show that you were.
The beauty and wonder of my
nitrogenous base sequences, you
picked your best restriction
enzymes to dismember
it, stating
"We're doing this for you."
You always knew plasmids
never look back,
:iconTheMaidenInBlack:TheMaidenInBlack
:iconthemaideninblack:TheMaidenInBlack 15 38
Memories Journal Skin by TheMaidenInBlack Memories Journal Skin :iconthemaideninblack:TheMaidenInBlack 3 15 A Bed of Red by TheMaidenInBlack A Bed of Red :iconthemaideninblack:TheMaidenInBlack 13 14 HT Pixel Bottle - Pixel Challenge by TheMaidenInBlack HT Pixel Bottle - Pixel Challenge :iconthemaideninblack:TheMaidenInBlack 2 6
Literature
Middle-Earth
Swathed in mist and fires' smoke,
drums thunder as the last of daylight fades.
Songs of the Ancients drown the whispers
of their women's woolen skirt hems
while the dance builds,
and a moon eclipsed in blood rises
on this summer solstice.
A melodic cauldron is stirred,
with dulcimer strings and fiddler's bow--
the bravado and quickness of their feet
sway bare upon long wooden planks.
Black-winged spirits spin over village roofs,
their calls carrying the hearts and minds
of warriors in the hills,
forging new swords, bathing the blades
in the falls cascading down
toward the rolling emerald valley
where dragons, circling low, anticipate
the feast they know will come tonight.
Starlit eyes stare long at their flight,
yearning, for a journey across the sea
where friends await and darkness is at bay.
And wizards, unaware of night's crawling,
travel swift through ages of magic
to summer nights, when fireworks,
shaped as the shadows of dragons,
are the only sorcery to be seen.
:iconTheMaidenInBlack:TheMaidenInBlack
:iconthemaideninblack:TheMaidenInBlack 7 10
Literature
Howl
THE GIRL
On the porch, she felt safer. The warm light high on the wall, next to the rocking chair that was cradling her seemed to tell her so, with its golden reassurance.
Inside, though...
Imustnotthinkthat, she repeated in her head, pressing her eyelids shut. Daddy will be good, hepromisedhepromised. She'll be all right.
She hugged her legs as a scream and a bark came from inside the house, making her flinch. Daddy?
"Daddy?" she called out, already forgetting that he had asked her not to make noise. The silence extended until she could no longer stand it. She stepped down from the rocking chair and went inside the house, walking slowly, her steps and breath on a single beat.
The living room door swung open, her daddy coming out of it and hurrying to close it back with a gasp once he saw her; he didn't want her to see, even she understood that. He's scared. "Daddy, are you okay?"
He sighed. "Yes, sweetie, I'm fine."
"But - but I heard you scream..."
:iconTheMaidenInBlack:TheMaidenInBlack
:iconthemaideninblack:TheMaidenInBlack 62 61
Winter ID by TheMaidenInBlack Winter ID :iconthemaideninblack:TheMaidenInBlack 15 23
Literature
Hunting Pirates
I witnessed the plundering from my safe vantage point, eyes glued to a fancy telescope and neck screaming mercy.
Devotion never stood a chance against them, I have known for a long time: it's the defenses you have that make a difference, not the stubborn utopia that some "god" is going to rise and defend you instead. If I lower the telescope's magnification there they are, weird-shaped ants kicking down doors and putting our livelihood to the torch.
But it doesn't begin like that. It begins on your skin, like when a cool wind blows and you know you'll get goosebumps. Soon enough, the villagers see it for you - "black sails! Black sails coming!" and you choke on your tea. And even if a storm has been gathering in the sea almost like divine protection and a few ships have burst against the rocks like bubbles, you know you are exposed, maybe when those rainclouds will bring an early sunset and a sleepless night, or maybe tomorrow; your heartrate is just a countdown.
And there it is. I've
:iconTheMaidenInBlack:TheMaidenInBlack
:iconthemaideninblack:TheMaidenInBlack 8 9

Webcam

Tell me a thing about you, I'll tell you one about me! 

100%
20 deviants said :eager:

Stamps make me happy.

I even divided these into sections. :dummy:

You Think I Care Stamp by bizarrostamps Rain Stamp by Stamp221 I Heart Purple by webgoddess Stamp: i love blue by flyingdown2011 I Support Silliness Stamp. by miss-strychnine Stamp: Kindness by delusional-dreams I love my TABLET stamp by RRRAI Your Smile... by aternity Violent Stamp by Keiko-Koga :thumb76810001: DA Stamp - Video Games 01 by tppgraphics :thumb78593189: .Sleep stamp. by rydi1689 I like trains. by bigfunkychiken

Games:

:thumb39732560: Final Fantasy Stamp by Reveriesian :thumb211859039: Bioshock Stamp by Alcamin Ayane Stamp by neobunny Mortal Kombat stamp by Metadream i love tomb raider games by lucianag GTA: Vice City Stamp by NerdXV MGS Fan Stamp by Busiris monster hunter stamp by Xeno-striker Piggy Stamp by Tippy-The-Bunny Albedo Stamp by Mocha-Rush Xenosaga by IceVallejo Tenchu stamp by Llingy

Movies:

joe black stamp by birdie94 Stamp - Iron Hugs by Isilrina voldemort by lauren-lovebites Monster's Inc. Stamp: ... by XxoOjunefoxOoxX Mulan by ThimbleBostitch The Dark Knight-Joker stamp by Deezmo LOTR - Wander by Jenna-Rose

Anime/Manga/Comics:

Spawn Stamp by MR-PHiLL Witchblade Stamp by Notaku Got Geass? - Lelouch Stamp by DGrayAlchemist Orange-kun by cullencrazay NERV Stamp by HeruNoTenchi Absolute Boyfriend Stamp by BanXiao :thumb200051862: Tengen Toppa Gurren Lagann by Kurasii Lucky Star Dance Stamp... by Sheepio Maria Holic stamp by Nami-DA Imagination stamp by NamiYami One Piece Strawhats Stamp by Zocho Cute Face L + Stamp Death Note by Ludra-Jenova Exalibur Dance Stamp by AlClair Tieria Erde - Stamp by Misrav G00 Fan Stamp by Nawamane Stamp - Gundam SEED: Lacus 2 by Emiliers

Music:

The Original Trio Stamp by nakashimariku Sigur Ros Stamp by Ko-omote Jonsi Stamp by iamadem Explosions in the Sky Stamp by rynald Sara Bareilles Stamp. by mylittlebluesky Classical music stamp by Tollerka Music Stamp by JetProwerTheFox :thumb65013440: - I Listen To Post-Rock - by AbXorb Film Score Stamp by rushpoint stamp - Fabrizio De Andre' by pallottili Samuel -Subsonica- stamp by HtB-stamps

Visitors

from my own mind.

I usually don't do this, but it's late enough for me to be exhausted yet unusually active, so have some babbling.
Actually, maybe I do usually do this. Am I getting old for the adolescent journals?

Work has been incredibly stressful on me lately. While I definitely feel valued where I'm at, it's also a job that I landed, more than the job I'd have chosen if I could have chosen - and I find myself struggling with the company ideals (which are in conflict with my own), and with the endless issues that come up every day. I was never good at separating work life and private life, and with the position I currently have, the line becomes blurry as I'm always reachable on my phone - and while it's definitely handy, it leads to people thinking you are always at their disposal, which is incorrect, and sort of disrespectful as it seems to assume I don't have a life of my own.

I think that it would be easier to manage, feelings-wise, if this same situation had taken place in my home country. But here, I feel without a support network of any kind - and it's hard to confide in my friends back in Italy, because as sad as it is, my relationship with them has changed dramatically. We're not as close as we used to be, in every sense of the word. :hmm: they are "best friends" I can't open my heart to anymore when it comes to certain things.

And then there is a thing in my life, with a peculiar orbit of its own; that moves away for a while, as the seasons go, but always eventually comes back. I think the reason why everything has been stressing me more than usual lately is that this feeling made its way back to me, and it won't let go. And while the easy solution is of course "talk about it and get it off your chest"... yeah. ;) not everything can be cured that way, haha.

I need a vacation. Anyone have a couch I can sink in? :P I come with the incredible perk of "watch me as I sleep for 14 hours straight, and then maybe we can do something together."

And last but not least, how are you doing?

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TheMaidenInBlack
Joseph Louis Gay-Lussac
Your friendly - but a bit of a troll, admittedly - next-door neighbour. I love cookies, gaming, Magic:the Gathering and anime; I love silence, music and nature; I love long walks, being lazy, I love silly things like earrings, jeans and nail polish (and I have tons of them all, beware). I love experimenting with my hair because let's admit it, it always grows back eventually.
I love smiles, cold weather, and I love when my toes are warm next to the fire. I love reading, writing, and improving my English thanks to both of those; I love #thewrittenrevolution and all that it lets me to for the community, I love the happiness it gives me.
I love the friends I have made, and those that I will make tomorrow. I love you.
Interests

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:iconwriteescape:
WriteEscape Featured By Owner Jul 1, 2018  Professional General Artist
Hey Hey, long time no see!
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:iconbattlefairies:
BATTLEFAIRIES Featured By Owner Jun 18, 2018
:stare:
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:iconthemaideninblack:
TheMaidenInBlack Featured By Owner Jun 18, 2018
Excuses excuses
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:iconpepper-the-phoenix:
Pepper-the-phoenix Featured By Owner Dec 9, 2017  Professional Writer
Thank you for the fave!
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:iconmorbidman187:
morbidman187 Featured By Owner Sep 25, 2017
Happy Birthday :heart:
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