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About Deviant icy-moon-shadowFemale/United States Recent Activity
Deviant for 7 Years
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Literature
Living (Lite)
the tattoo sprawls across his back,
its edges flirting with his ribs:
a tapestry on a hollow puppet
she runs her hands over it,
fingers skimming from the sharp
angles of his shoulder blades to
the dent of his lower back to
the puckered flesh of his sides
it's eating you, she says,
and he does not answer.
:iconicy-moon-shadow:icy-moon-shadow
:iconicy-moon-shadow:icy-moon-shadow 4 0
Literature
bleeding suns
under the sunlight she is divine. she breathes stitches of words at a time, secrets knotted up in her ribs and staining the soft skin of her stomach. no one is innocent without a little guilt, and she has hers in purple-brown marks. press them, and the pain makes her smile. she had hair to her waist and the children on the street called her rapunzel, but she chopped it to her chin and there it hangs now, brusquely. her throat is naked but her new bangs shield her eyes from the sun.
:iconicy-moon-shadow:icy-moon-shadow
:iconicy-moon-shadow:icy-moon-shadow 2 2
Literature
Salt
Everyone calls him Slug. He's a scrappy kid, with the kind of scrawny ribs and chicken legs that gets you towel-whipped in the locker room, and looks more twelve than sixteen. I suspect I'm the only one who remembers his real name, Mark Gartenberg, and that's just because he lives next door.
Even when I was four and my family had just moved in, I knew there was something off about him. His eyes were too big, his mouth too straight, and he wouldn't play normal games like everyone else.
The first time I met him, I was excited to play with someone other than my sister, who only ever wanted to play Castle Rescue, demanding that I save her from the evil witch and bring her to a shining prince. I went to his house with my favorite toys, but he wasn't interested in action figures or comic books or video games.
He liked to kill things.
It was in third grade that he got his nickname. He came to class with a small cardboard box, squeezing it to his chest when the teacher tried to take it away be
:iconicy-moon-shadow:icy-moon-shadow
:iconicy-moon-shadow:icy-moon-shadow 1 1
Literature
Rickshaw Chained to a Rickshaw
He had cheekbones like god's fingers and a rickshaw chained to his spine. The links swung as metal trapeze artists and made the air taste like rust. He could hear the audience murmuring, but did not know where they were. Where are your eyes? the lady in the cart asked him. He was ashamed; he could not weep. The curtain swept down, but the links never stopped swinging.
:iconicy-moon-shadow:icy-moon-shadow
:iconicy-moon-shadow:icy-moon-shadow 2 0
Literature
Moiety
angels with
butterfly eyelashes
and slatted ribs
they slide past
walls, curve through
windows, tuck inside
blinking streetlamps
they have no wings
and no eyes but when
they wrap against me,
they swear they are whole
:iconicy-moon-shadow:icy-moon-shadow
:iconicy-moon-shadow:icy-moon-shadow 3 2
Literature
Pyrrhic Victory
he has cheekbones like
god's fingers
she twined her hand in
his and looked up with
quixotic eyes
but he pushed her wrist
away and breathed a
pyrrhic victory
:iconicy-moon-shadow:icy-moon-shadow
:iconicy-moon-shadow:icy-moon-shadow 3 0
Literature
Broken Voices
piano key teeth
and bones of strings
and hammers
when he tries to speak,
chords crash in his mouth
once, he thought
it would be beautiful
:iconicy-moon-shadow:icy-moon-shadow
:iconicy-moon-shadow:icy-moon-shadow 3 0
Literature
Cookiecutter Houses
she sliced the sky with cookiecutters
and the pieces fell like bodies
into her arms
she built sandcastles out of the ashes
of her fireplace
but they sank apart under
a single breath
the bricks of her house curl up
like bones and gawp at her with
their ugly teeth
she removes them, one by one,
and weeps when her house refuses
to crumble
:iconicy-moon-shadow:icy-moon-shadow
:iconicy-moon-shadow:icy-moon-shadow 4 8
Literature
Her Immortality
her body curved like a spoon,
pressed flat on the wooden floor
with dank moonlight clinging as
drunken, sloppy kisses on her flesh
her hair splayed in a soft blond
halo around her skull, the skin at
the top of her head thin enough to
let blue veins track through
the room was black except for the
light through her window and
the cancerous glow of her cell phone
vibrating on her bedspread
she dreamed she was immortal;
even as her tissue-paper lungs racked
for breath and her sunken heart
gasped and her anorexic fingers
gutted the air
she stilled
and in a moment she lived forever
:iconicy-moon-shadow:icy-moon-shadow
:iconicy-moon-shadow:icy-moon-shadow 4 0
Literature
The Insomniac's Desire
she would be dead before their metal
bodies rust; her swollen heart would
quit churning and her watery blood
would stop flowing
so they built a glass Heaven for her
and erected stiff metal supports
below gaping windows, like mouths
without air
they teased flowers out of the dust
on her floor and stroked sunlight
all through the enclosure
they watch her:
her face, dull and expressionless,
her lips, fumbling at half-formed sounds,
her fingers, curled into claws, smear
the glass with fingerprints
they do not understand her or
what she is supposed to be
they are alone so they believe
she is beautiful, and they know
only that you must love beautiful
things with the blind passion of
a marionette.
:iconicy-moon-shadow:icy-moon-shadow
:iconicy-moon-shadow:icy-moon-shadow 3 2
Literature
Marionette's Grief (Collaboration)
I remember the moon
in your dark pigeon eyes
as you clung to my wrist
like I was destined to fall.

Your fingers stung into my
flesh like steel coils, and I
pried them off one by one,
whispering, I don't love you.
I don't love you,
darling,
but sometimes I need you
like fish need air in their gills;
I'm a puppet on your strings
and you've tangled me.

Without you I'm breathing ice,
snakes freezing the soft layers
of my lungs with their scorching
touch; but pain isn't love
and there's no happy ending
trapped between these pages
like dried rose petals.
You're a villain
with a mask pulled over your heart
and I have an itch I need you to scratch,
but you can't go diving into the sea
without oxygen
and darling,
being without you is strangling me.

You can hide behind your layers of trite
tulips sprawling through packets of
sickly fake sugar, but peel back layer
upon layer of irony and you are there:
whole, perfect, and broken.
:iconicy-moon-shadow:icy-moon-shadow
:iconicy-moon-shadow:icy-moon-shadow 6 8
Literature
Face Painting
you painted your face in
all the shades of your favorite song
and washed your bones in
soapy gray water until they gleamed white as
lion's teeth
am i evil,
or am i human?

you asked me
i could taste your voice,
suspended in the humid air,
while you lay naked on the ground
with leaves, fat and swollen,
sprawled across your skin
you pinched an insect,
glittering and nameless,
on your arm
my fingers wound around yours
and i stared at the blood pricking
your finger tips, feeling very small
in our humanity
:iconicy-moon-shadow:icy-moon-shadow
:iconicy-moon-shadow:icy-moon-shadow 0 2
Literature
The Machine Ghost
1. I am a ghost in the dilations of irises and the fog of petrichor. The world is a small sphere and when I sink my thumbprint on the underside of Antarctica, the oceans fissure into mist. You can't see me because you are a confined abstraction and I am everything.
2. Your eyes are empty cogs. Your lips curl into gears churning past the axles of your skull-plates, shafts of shoulders pumping with every beat of your twin actuator lungs. The rest of you dissolves into powder. I wish you were blind.
3. There are faucets surgically attached to our bruised wrists, and the hair stringing past our eyes is melted plastic. I am not real. I do not know who we are so I will lie to you until you are also a dream.
:iconicy-moon-shadow:icy-moon-shadow
:iconicy-moon-shadow:icy-moon-shadow 3 2
Literature
Paper Cut Cheekbones
She hears singing on the periphery of the car window, the notes dripping like candle wax down the lonely knobbed shoulders of the highway. The leather seats beneath her legs are corroding into her thighs and the fluted Italian accents of her next-door neighbors are twisting into the broad drawls of birds with viper-sharp teeth. She cradles her knife-edged cheekbones into the saggy flesh of her palms. Her eyes are muddied with harsh lights and melting color, and she does not know where she is or where she is going. The driver punches the steering wheel in a needle of noise and she screams. She does not understand this is a dream; she cries in big ugly sobs that rattle her teeth and whiten the driver's knuckles until he veers off the road and they are swallowed by a tree. She wakes up and her skin is flush with sweat. Outside the neighbors' voices entwine melodiously and her husband snores softly beside her. The fear clings to her like a static scarf for the rest of the day.
:iconicy-moon-shadow:icy-moon-shadow
:iconicy-moon-shadow:icy-moon-shadow 1 5
Literature
White Rolls
She wants to smoke the world the way she inhales cigarettes, feel the universe & all its contents squirm down her throat. She is too used to the raspy feel of nicotine on her tongue and if she closes her eyes she can feel a dark and terrible poison swelling at the confines of her mouth, shuddering at her cheekbones & grinding against her back molars. She has no understanding of the world but believes that if she could tuck it into little white rolls and light the ends and breathe, the smoke would taste pure & sweet and coat her lungs in blankets of stars. Her flesh is goosebumped with desire; she knows nothing of what she wants but the longing is curled fiercely around her ribs, waiting to be expelled by the breath of all the winds & rivers & things she can not see.
:iconicy-moon-shadow:icy-moon-shadow
:iconicy-moon-shadow:icy-moon-shadow 3 5
Literature
Kissed by Lightning
Here is a garden,
and here is the boy who lives with his
fingers tangled in superposed roses
and his spine arched with arias
Here are the red veins
where the lightning lacerated him
   ('how lucky you are,' she says
    'to be kissed by the skies')
and the steam of his skin sheathed
the muscles shuddering on the stained
mattress he bought for half off
Here are the bruises on his wrists
and the snakes tattooed up and down
his shoulder blades, and here are
the inky deposits of words that
swam like tears out of his eyes.
:iconicy-moon-shadow:icy-moon-shadow
:iconicy-moon-shadow:icy-moon-shadow 5 0

Favourites

Literature
skin.
skin taught hipbone to hipbone like the skin of a drum as my fingers play the keyboard of my ribs,
digging deep to pluck them like boomerangs from the corset of my chest. stomach like a cave whispering lies that echo in my bones.
there's a vortex in my middle
that i refuse to feed,
a blackhole that only grows.
(but it doesn't seem to know that i've forgotten how to be hungry).
the empty echos the ice in my heart and the empty in my head.
the countdown has begun.
(caged rabbit heart is dying slowly).
and i know you'll come again soon. you always do.
there is a dead songbird in my chest,
and its wings are clipped and laid to rest.
i know my place.
i know the way my body fits next to his like a corrupted equation. 2+2=8. but you and me will never equal a whole number.
this selfhate was hardwired into me at the age of 11 along with the memories of your searching hands presspresspressing into me like a prayer.
but there is nothing holy about your hands,
nothing sacred about my
:iconarabesque-o:arabesque-o
:iconarabesque-o:arabesque-o 13 15
Literature
Winterbleeder
Curled around alpine legs and caught
within hollows and inclines of pale skin,
she carries her endless winter always.
It settles upon frosted shoulders and
caps heavy-lidded eyes, clinging close to
the darkness of each snow-flecked breath;
lingering above cracked lips and the
remnants of a long forgotten warmth.
But darling, don't we deserve each other?
(She'd been Spring's child before Winter's whispers.)
:iconConcora:Concora
:iconconcora:Concora 41 34
Literature
so turn on your charm and let it shine
weed my bones together and you can
find out how to  write only
the most beautiful love stories
with the most tragic endings because we all breathe
when we can't. and you are so full
of sunshine and fireflies and mooncandy and i
want to braid your skin around me
like i am a cigarette or neon lights or maybe
even a cat scratch. we could forget the roses bleating
beneath the streetlamp that doesn't flicker anymore
and i could be the victim
that i've always aspired to be and you,
you would never love me
even as new york screams that you do.
and oh, you really do.
:iconDamagedHomewrecker:DamagedHomewrecker
:icondamagedhomewrecker:DamagedHomewrecker 7 13
Literature
Chrysalis.
there is a boy who
doesn't exist
he has green eyes
and does not
speak of love
for months
:iconstaphysagria:staphysagria
:iconstaphysagria:staphysagria 20 13
Journal
Watcher Contest - Win Points + Features + Thanks
Hey Everyone!
So, I have been absolutely amazed by all of my amazing watchers :heart: So for the next few days, I want to send a thank you back to you all... I originally planned to do this during Valentines Day, but other stuff got planned then... So let's do it now =)
I want to thank a ton of you guys! So here is how I am going to thank 33 of you! :love: (Yes there's a lot more then 33, but that's all I can do for now...)
- Give 25 of my watchers a 5 piece journal feature
- Give 5 of my watchers a 5 piece front page feature (my front page, for a month)
- Give 3 of my watchers 100 :points:
So what do you have to do to get one of these prizes? Just three simple things:
1. As this is a thank you to my watchers, you must be watching me (If you aren't right now, you can still watch me ;P)
2. Then simply comment on this journal. Say anything you'd like! 
3. Lastly, Fave this journal!
This will end February 26, 2012 at 11:59:59 P
:iconTimberClipse:TimberClipse
:icontimberclipse:TimberClipse 108 192
Literature
a universe full of maybe
i want to be real,
tangible, somehow human
enough to be loved
:iconsilklilies:silklilies
:iconsilklilies:silklilies 22 4
Literature
come morning light, you and i'll be safe and sound
i've got my head in your lap and we're watching lady and the tramp and i've been so incredibly happy lately; i haven't been mad in forever and i'm just laughing with you and i've been thinking about him a lot even though the anniversaries never get to me but this year, it's getting to me and i'm not sure why, and then you say that one sentence, that one perfectly sharp and barbed shot, like an open palm slap right to my face, a lightning strike, and i wrench away from you, shocked and startled and hurt.
i cannot even look at you.
and you tell me you're sorry, a lovely round gem of a stone, and i know you mean it, but
i cannot even look at you.
i run away, run clear away, straight to my room, and i don't even make it up onto my bed, i'm crying right there on the floor, soft and kitten gentle, because i don't want you to hear, and i don't want to be crying, and i can't believe i forgot what being sad tastes like:
slow salt and a heart too stuck and fast all at the same time with this ner
:iconDamagedHomewrecker:DamagedHomewrecker
:icondamagedhomewrecker:DamagedHomewrecker 4 4
Literature
touch and go
bite your spine
and break your lip
count the dead stars lining your axons
but don't bother keeping track
just go back to the beginning every time
one, one, one
split apart like apple halves
the seeds couldn't germinate
and everything became decay
even the full words
which was more of a surprise than the empty ones
toughening up
but you can't find the right combination
of lifts and squats and numbers
to rid your mind of what you were or
what you are-no it's mostly what you used to be
you don't know the worst
:iconlealsfeels:lealsfeels
:iconlealsfeels:lealsfeels 5 6
Literature
australia
let's run through the hot deserts and look for living fossils of thylacine gapes and devil's laughter. we can close our eyes and find seaweed tucked between our toes as the corals weep like willow trees beneath the full moon sun. we can brush our fingers through the sand and leave our footprints on trails unmarked otherwise. we can sing like the wild dogs climbing in trees and we can wonder aloud of vibrant fruits breaking against the bricks of our teeth.
i can feel adventure itching along my palms and buzzing beneath the skin of my neck. i need to chase through the stars as bats call for dinner. i want to sleep when i'm dead beneath the rain beaten skies.
hold my crocodile tears in a jar and feed me the poison of cane toads. let's get these rabbit hearts pumping faster. we can breathe in the dirt of kingdoms and dig up the skeletons of lovers unknown.
and we can forget how lonely we really are.
:iconDamagedHomewrecker:DamagedHomewrecker
:icondamagedhomewrecker:DamagedHomewrecker 4 2
Literature
scarlet
i am a welt
scarlet inside a baby's mouth
the moon scavenges my back
i believe in lost causes
in midnight texts from old lovers
in wishing on dandelions
raw as swollen knuckles
lyrics taper my knees
giggles slope my shoulders
i will not leave
i will not run away
you may be mighty
but you will not win
blood slavers your smile
i believe in lost causes
in whispered comets
in me
:iconDamagedHomewrecker:DamagedHomewrecker
:icondamagedhomewrecker:DamagedHomewrecker 5 10
Literature
Tortured Poet
The hornet has stung
this snakeskin heart,
  the sloughed shavings
  rest on my paper water lungs
I have raped my arms
with scars of burden,
   snowflake fingertips
Delicate expression,
foolishly hoping
that these eyes
can perceive
this force
Pulling inside,
  inking me.
:iconPagesOfDreams:PagesOfDreams
:iconpagesofdreams:PagesOfDreams 13 2
Literature
sharp eyes and nimble fingers
there is a boy with sharp eyes
and nimble, tinkering fingertips
long strange spidery hands
that flex, bend, curl
foreign and gaunt, with thick knuckles
harmoniously taking to task
though muscle memory
they play computer keyboards like a baby grand
and handle game controllers
with the fluidity of a composer
he is all collarbones and angles
chalky hipbones,
a lighthouse stair-step spine
with lily-white skin
where freckles burst like stars
his ribcage holds the universe
it is cavernous, moist and dark
the rushing, pulse of blood
threads through his organs like dark matter
he smells like dried roses
and the sweet acid of soda
his mouth salivates logic
but songbirds do not perch on his tongue
because the truth
is righteously bitter and festering
it makes me nauseous
so i hide him in my cigar box
under my bed
i hide him in photo albums,
in jewelry boxes and diary entries
as if to contain and order him
from fear of my own chaotic love
but no one can truly be captured and held
we are in consta
:iconstarlight-silence:starlight-silence
:iconstarlight-silence:starlight-silence 11 1
Literature
Nightdance
We danced like monsters:
lurking shadows atop gravestones,
long-limbed, and hungry.
We were hips and stitched lips.
Clinging widows to a dying mate.
You held my hand, whispering,
"Scream, Baby—
S c r e a m
lets wake the dead."
And in the end,
we collapsed
like fallen soldiers.
:iconBanshee-X:Banshee-X
:iconbanshee-x:Banshee-X 29 18
Literature
even cyborgs
she was built of radiator caps and metal scrap:
artfully painted behind blue jeans and nonchalant leans,
disguising her chemistry with everyday, casual mystery.
steel toes and cutoff shirts, it's reflected in her work.
coolant; joint lubricant, who knows, really-
a testimony to defying the patent leather white collar watch your language lifestyle-
she will be no byproduct of integration,
sanitation.
she is built of radiator caps and metal scraps,
painted behind scenes of social finesse.
no one would understand,
so she never offers the information-
the space between electrical-wire ears
isn't quite as empty as it appears
:icon1337M457312:1337M457312
:icon1337m457312:1337M457312 4 10

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icy-moon-shadow
United States

Activity


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etc.
10 points: A llama badge and a watch.
More than 10 points: Note me and we'll work something out, like a news feature and/or having me view your entire gallery and favorite all the ones I like, that kind of thing.

Also, commissions! I will write a poem for you about whatever you want for 25 points, and I will write a short story for you about whatever you want for 50 points. (For example, if you want a story about your OCs but you don't really want to have to write it.)

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I'm doing a three-way collab right now, and it's so fun :D If anyone wants to do a collab with me, let me know!

British
[ ] You drink a lot of tea.
[ ] You know what a brolly is.
[ ] Deal or No Deal has taken over your life.
[ ] You wanted Ben to win X Factor.
[ ] You use the word "bugger" or the phrase "bloody hell."
[x]Fish and Chips are yummy.
[ ] You can eat a Full English Breakfast.
[ ] You dislike emos almost as much as you dislike chavs.
[]Its football...not soccer.
Total: 1

Australian
[ ] You wear flip flops all year.
[ ] You call flipflops thongs not flip flops.
[ ] You love a backyard barbie.
[ ] You know a barbie is not a doll.
[ ] You love the beach. [It's nice, but I don't love it.]
[ ] Sometimes you swear without realizing.
[ ] You're a sports fanatic.
[ ] You are tanned.
[ ] You're a bit of a bogan.
[ ] You have an australian something
Total: 0

Italian
[ ] The Sopranos is a great show.
[x] Your last name ends in a vowel.
[ ] Your grandmother makes her own sauces.
[ ] You know how a real meatball tastes.
[ ] You know Italian songs.
[x] You have dark hair and dark eye color.
[ ] You speak some italian.
[x] You are under 5'10"
[ ] You know what an Italian horn is
[x] Pizza/spaghetti is the best food in the world!
[x] You talk with your hands. [Sometimes?]
Total: 5

Mexican
[ ] You say member instead of Remember.
[ ] You speak spanish or some.
[x] You like tacos.
[ ] YoU TyPe lIkE ThIs On Da CoMpUtEr. [rofl]
[ ] You are dark skinned.
[ ] You know what a Puta is.
[x] You talk fast occasionally.
[ ] You have had highlights or have dyed your hair.
[ ]You know what platanos are.
Total: 2

Russian
[ ] You say villian as: Vee-lon.
[x] You get short tempered.
[ ] You know of somebody named Natasha.
[x] You get cold easily.
[ ] Rain is fun for you.
[ ] You get into contests all the time.
[ ] You can easily make do with the cold weather.
Total: 2

Irish
[ ] You think beer is the best.
[x] You have a bad temper.
[ ] Your last name starts with a Mc, Murph, O', Fitz or ends with a ley, on, un, an, in, ry, ly, y.
[ ] You have blue or green eyes.
[ ] You like the color green.
[ ] You have been to a st. pattys day party.
[ ] You have a family member from Ireland.
[ ] You have blonde hair.
[ ] You have/had freckles.
[ ] Your family get togethers always include drinking and singing.
Total: 1

African American
[ ] You have nappy hair.
[ ] You like rap.
[ ] You know how to shoot a gun
[ ] You think President George Walker Bush is racist.
[x] You like chicken. [Does fried chicken count?]
[x] You like watermelon.
[ ] You can dance.
[ ] You can 'sing' gospel.
Total: 2

Asian
[x] You have slanty/small eyes.
[x] you like rice alot.
[x] You are good at math.
[x] you have played the piano.
[x] you are under 5' 6".
[x] you have family from asia.
[x] You laugh sometimes covering your mouth.
[x] Most people think you're chinese.
[ ] you call hurricanes typhoons
[ ] You go to Baulko.
Total: 8. lol.

German
[x] You like bread.
[ ] You think German Chocolate is good.
[x] You Speak some German. [I learned a little German so I could scream stuff like "THAT'S A CHAIR!" and people would think I'm cursing at them.]
[ ] You know what Schnitzel is.
[ ] You hate it when stupid people call you a Nazi.
[x] You went to Pre-school.
[ ] youre over 5' 7"
Total: 3

Canadian
[ ] You like/play/played hockey.
[ ] You love beer.
[/] You say eh. [I type it, don't say it.]
[ ] You know what poutine is.
[x] You speak some french.
[ ] You love Tim Horton's.
[ ] At one point you lived in a farm house.
[ ] You watch/watched degrassi.
Total: 1.5

American
[ ] You hate foreigners.
[ ] You hate non - Christians.
[x] You're lazy.
[ ] You're fat.
[ ] You are not cultured.
[x] You hate abortion.
[/] You love the death penalty. [Better than just paying for prisoners serving life sentences, but I'd rather they do useful labor.]
[ ] You don't read.
[ ] You shop at walmart.
[ ] You think this survey is rather biased.
Total: 2.5

So apparently I'm Asian. No surprise there...

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Comments


Add a Comment:
 
:iconarabesque-o:
arabesque-o Featured By Owner Sep 5, 2012  Student Photographer
thanks for the fav(:
Reply
:iconconcora:
Concora Featured By Owner Aug 30, 2012   Writer
Thank you so much for the favourite of Winterbleeder. :aww::rose:
Reply
:iconicy-moon-shadow:
icy-moon-shadow Featured By Owner Aug 30, 2012
No problem :)
Reply
:iconblackdahlia911:
blackdahlia911 Featured By Owner Aug 3, 2012
Your writing is fantastic, I am addicted!
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:iconicy-moon-shadow:
icy-moon-shadow Featured By Owner Aug 3, 2012
Aww, thank you so much!
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:iconbetwixtthepages:
betwixtthepages Featured By Owner May 28, 2012  Hobbyist General Artist
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:iconbetwixtthepages:
betwixtthepages Featured By Owner Mar 24, 2012  Hobbyist General Artist
I'd LOVE to collab with you.

I just posted a journal asking people to collab with me, buuuut I've only had one response to it so far.

So note me!

If you wanna.

ALSO--Congrats on the DLD. :iconheartglompplz:
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:iconhypnicjerks:
hypnicjerks Featured By Owner Feb 20, 2012
thank you!
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:iconlealsfeels:
lealsfeels Featured By Owner Feb 5, 2012
Collab with me me me? :heart:
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:iconicy-moon-shadow:
icy-moon-shadow Featured By Owner Feb 5, 2012
Oh, I would love to! :)
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