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About Varied / Student Kali RobinsonMale/United States Group :icontradition-of-art: Tradition-of-Art
 
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Deviant for 4 Years
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First Date by MissLunaRose First Date :iconmisslunarose:MissLunaRose 29 9 Sheyla Blow by SrBascon Sheyla Blow :iconsrbascon:SrBascon 40 4
Mature content
rape me :icondylanseto:DylanSeto 17 30
Literature
In a World of Their Own
Rozabela keeps having dream about him.
A man she's never met, only knowing him in her dreams. Often seeking his council. Sometimes kissing him. Always sampling the feel of his skin.
But she doesn't know his warmth.
Fake. It's all fake, she tells herself. She wakes to mornings of empty longing.
Yet... it's all hers.
And there's a harpsichord. There's always a harpsichord.
Tomorrow night, the city of Glorinda will have its ruby jubilee. It's been celebrating all week long, citizens of other cities flocking to join.
Many years ago, Nature turned on civilization, sweeping the old order of things away. Countless lives lost. Governments collapsed. Countries encased in ice. Islands swallowed by the sea.
The outside world is broken.
But through the efforts and foresight of the Marquardt Foundation, life goes on. Grand city-states sprouted under its care, little pockets of society. Glorinda is the crowning jewel. As CEO, Papa Marquar
:iconFundelstein:Fundelstein
:iconfundelstein:Fundelstein 7 1
Literature
PotED Part 3
Psam of the Elder Dragon 
Part 3 
 
    Not half a mile outside of the village stood a hill just abreast the tree line from which the entire village, and much farther beyond it, could be seen. Cut into it, a gravel path snaking up its surprisingly steep face, the pockets formed between switch backs leveled into small clearings lined with ancient stone where all manner of grain and produce could grow from the fertile volcanic soil. At the top, stone slab and frame as old as the lining, if not older, supporting a thatch mansard and gables made for an understated but nonetheless comforting retreat from whatever elements it found itself in, complete with a flawless view of the mountain range just across the lake. 
    There, a playful animosity lingered. With the turn of two handles, the whole world seemed to struggle to find a footing for the frictionless glide of fate. Two sets of eyes, one watching calmly, his lower set of arms
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:iconkandoozi:Kandoozi 1 0
Cardi B by TerryAlec Cardi B :iconterryalec:TerryAlec 22 0 Dad is Always Right by MissLunaRose Dad is Always Right :iconmisslunarose:MissLunaRose 18 9 Aurora At the Beach by MissLunaRose Aurora At the Beach :iconmisslunarose:MissLunaRose 27 4 Ribbons by GDBee Ribbons :icongdbee:GDBee 1,274 32 Celestial Suns Contemptor by Blazbaros Celestial Suns Contemptor :iconblazbaros:Blazbaros 784 38 my friend OC [narasak] by gao-lukchup my friend OC [narasak] :icongao-lukchup:gao-lukchup 815 11 Lordless/Lifeless by regourso Lordless/Lifeless :iconregourso:regourso 178 6 the phone will ring, it won't be you by DarkRiderDLMC the phone will ring, it won't be you :icondarkriderdlmc:DarkRiderDLMC 50 13 Good Girl by TF-Warlock
Mature content
Good Girl :icontf-warlock:TF-Warlock 565 36
Literature
The Glance
Vision dictates passion.
Passion dictates lust.
Lust pretends to teach us
all we know and trust.
We fall for it so often,
the lie of just one glance,
the hope for something darker,
the chance for new romance.
All in just one moment,
all within a stare,
we think we know someone:
we hope, and dream, and dare.
Thinking they may like us,
and feeling just the same,
guessing all the signals
exchanged within the game.
But once the stare is over,
the accidental look,
we see the wrong before us:
the glance that we mistook.
:iconangelenroute:angelenroute
:iconangelenroute:angelenroute 14 24

Newest Deviations

Literature
Jesus Had Hair Like A Lamb's Wool
Dont you see?
Jesus had jair like lamb's wool
He prolly didnt comb it
Or cut it but let it grow long and nappy
Je prolly ran his hands through it in frusteration
And let those black fingers be the comb
He was prolly called moor
You thunk jesus sang in the bath after long days of sensing the hate of his folks?
I could understand a jesus like that
He must of sang the blues before it was ever the blues
I bet when ge sang his fingers shook and body twisted pulsed and convulsed as if possesed
He played his soul like we played the piano or the violin
I bet he reached between his legs sometimes and felt freedom travel from groin and butt through gis body
He walked with a strut and a switch sometimes to exercise his hips and lower back
To scrst h that itch under his testicles the one that taught gim how to love his brothers so
So that when it came time for him to die for them he felt fear and love and excitement and freedom as all one thing
Jesus prolly walked in the footsteps of his soul
So t
:iconWavAngel:WavAngel
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Literature
Untitled
1. a broken hair comb
Wear when going on strike
the magistrate will say
“You are in strike against God and nature”.
arm in arm with your fellow union members
picket as hired thugs and paid policeman beat you
demand an 8 hour working day and livable wages.
Say “I have no more patience for talk”
2. patent leather oxfords with the laces still tied in a knot
Capitalism has demanded its price of immigrant women’s bodies
You must leap into an elevator shaft fire blazing back behind you
dance burning on the factory floor behind a door locked
by the owners to prevent theft
Burned body identifiable by the work of dentists
by braids done the morning before the fire,
by stitches mothers recognize on their daughter’s stocking.
3. a rosary
Wear looking into the eyes of
policemen who beat you
who break down facing the carnage
who have to be changed
every hour
unlike these policemen
you, an immigrant woman employee of the Triangle Shirtwaist factory
sat in stools 1
:iconWavAngel:WavAngel
:iconwavangel:WavAngel 1 0
Mature content
Holding on to my Gun :iconwavangel:WavAngel 1 2
Literature
Romantic Teen Poet: A Thoughtful Daydream
When I read a book, the better the book, the more comprehensive its grasp of perception, and reality, the more secure its grasp of knowledge, the more I hear within my mind, the soul of the author speaking. The more correlated that book with my own perception, the clearer the soul of the author was revealed to me.
And I have ceased to just simply read. Now I build a world within my mind. Conceptualize every thought, whether conscious or not, and fit it into my model of the world.
And now I have begun to perceive a unique beauty. In the fullness of her eyes, the lines to either side of her nose, formed from a scowl made when intrigued, or otherwise deep in thought. Perception is now to me becoming play, as it should be. And her beautiful black hair, each strand emerging from her scalp like an individual string of thought cast out into the world. I make regular mental inquiry into the thoughts of others, trying to imagine what unique strands of experience form their identity. And her int
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Literature
What We Call Her
Downtown Girl
Rodeo Chick
Left-Hand Legend
Miss soft lips
Really Good at English
Pretty bad at Math
Long List of Ex’s
Miss only adds
Little Lady Shocker
Man Shocker too
Spandex Spooner
Man-Thing Stew
Party Girl
Tons of Fun
Never by her name:
Shannon Strong
Who are you?
:iconWavAngel:WavAngel
:iconwavangel:WavAngel 1 0
Literature
For a Thing to Disappear (A poem on ephemerality)
It ain’t nothing for a pretty little thing to disappear
Before you even knew she was even there
Every hood has about 100 beautiful Jesus
Dead and gone before you even knew they were there
Ain’t nothing for a bullet to float the wrong way on the wind,
Kill a song before it ever even sang
I say every hood has about 100 beautiful black Jesus
and it ain’t nothing for the thing to disappear
:iconWavAngel:WavAngel
:iconwavangel:WavAngel 0 0
Mature content
Good Mourning (Story of A Week of Mornings) :iconwavangel:WavAngel 0 0
Mature content
A Week of Morning :iconwavangel:WavAngel 1 0
Literature
Frank Ocean
I sit comfortably in my lover’s apartment
I hate his busyness
I sit cross-legged, leaning across the couch cushion
Held by my reading, I entertain his restlessness
I’m reading Lacan
Distracted,
The cold air comes through the open window that brings the daylight
and caresses and then holds my excited body the way he cannot
I feel the familiar sensation between my legs and I tighten and relax the muscles there
What a wonderful day - sighhhh. Relax
tighten
relax
tighten
relax
My eyes closed.
He cannot see me now
Letting his presence hold me, I let my body please me
I let the cold air feed my sensations
I let the sunlight into my day dreaming
Frank Ocean plays from his room
His music is mine now, all mineee
Working at the Pyramid tonight ~
He feels my happiness and knows it is his own.
He invites me in
We both sit together in our own worlds enjoying our own Ocean.
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:iconwavangel:WavAngel 1 0
Literature
A Heart
A heart. A heart. Every heartbeat hurts. I don’t think about it, but its true. Every beat is a punch in the chest. My heart keeps fucking working, keeps beating itself, incessantly. It beats itself until it cries, shaking, throbbing tears, for the slavery, for all the pain and unfairness of its world. My heart is terrified. Horrified. If it stops, it and I will die. The horror of my heart beating itself to death, unable to stop, has become my everyday life. I don’t even think about it anymore. Its just something I laugh about and then wonder to myself what the hell is so funny. Maybe that is why my life hurts. My heart takes every chance to remind me how horrible real love can be. The horror of a love so great, that you beat yourself to death every day just to see that its survives.
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:iconwavangel:WavAngel 1 0
Literature
Body Tales
I twist in hot stanzas
My heart hears red stories
My chest poems aflame
Fueled, by word-thoughts of the world.
My sides knot around fictions
Tales in my fingers telltale my real life
Told by my body to leave where I sat
Led by my breath on my journey.
Hugs pump drugs in my blood
I rock alcohol parties, dance nicotine and nug
My distractions think
My dances tug my dick
My body rolls fuck my lover
My daydreams are people
who I hate and I love
who I rape and I trust
Who I make and create
on their eyes, hair, walks, bodies and touch
All my existence is unsatisfiable Lust.
Playing my movie I star and I watch
I follow a language of scripts made before me
Dreams, money, success,
cars, rap, vests,
bullets, soldiers, flags,
love, flirt, tag,
gay, sex, straight and fuck
make love, be kind, watch who you trust
Black man, slavery, know thy self
work hard, have fun, blessed, god and don’t cuss
He’s sus, weirdo, strange, gay, sensitive, don’t cry
Always be real, be honest, never li
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Literature
Caged Nigger (READ: SELF-HATE)
Kali
exists in an imaginary cage.
the cage is written on my skin until my skin is covered
the writing moves across my skin and down onto the floor until it covers my perceptual world.
the writing is a single word written over and over again
Failure
it turns my world to shadow
it binds me to my blackest soul
the blackness is twisted into a hateful demon who can only be banished
by its name
and so for the power of the monster
its name has been written a million times across my skin
and through my eyes
trapping it and trapping me
screwed together
in a cage of hate language
the language is the one name
and the one word
Nigger.
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Literature
Bittersweet Words.
Its supposed to be you and I against the world, but lately its been your world against mine, your world against mine. I didn’t mean to hurt you ever. I didn’t know to watch for your feelings. I didn’t know to watch my words. I didn’t know to think through you and I. I didn’t mean to hurt you ever Kayby. I didn’t even realize ‘till just a day ago how hurt we had gotten.
I went and forgot myself with you.
Every kiss tastes like the past huh?
Every kiss,
First, sweet as the beginning,
And then,
That after taste lingers bitter, lingers bitter. Every kiss: bittersweet.
You taste that girl I had huh?
Kiss! <3
I didn’t mean to remind you.
I bet you don’t mean to remember, do you? Haha, life.
Kiss! <3
Wow, I forget myself every time, excuse me.
Get carried away and forget myself, start holding your hand.
Look into your eyes and forget myself Kayby, start hugging you.
Tired, closing my eyes and forgetting myself - falling into bed with
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Literature
Rain Art And Thunder
The red of your lipstick would match the love that we sew,
I feel we'd be den fire passionate, trapped in rose and gold glow.
I'd kiss you like drugs, and like wine, and like sex,
fall down on you like rain drops and leave you all wet
you'd arch like the Eiffel, and beg for baguette,
As I feed you the bread of your mind with my sex.
~
Clothe quickly my lady, look out at the rain,
I don't want to miss it, it falls on the world and coats it like pain;
it looks like my pain.
You pull on blue jeans, dark garden color top,
and we rush out the house to feel those raindrops
I wrap my arms around you, cup my hands over yours
Lord knows when it rains, it comes down and pours
My hair black flame, white shirt, and khaki pants
We stand in that rain,
and the world turns watercolor
I shed solemn tears as it melts, watch watercolor vapors
cast mirages over stormy horizons and  Babylon city buildings
and you stare out wide eyed excitement and wonder
at a portrait of a melting world, Rain, Art and
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:iconwavangel:WavAngel 2 0
Literature
Becoming Human
I walked out that night.
Walked out at night right out the door,
right down those steps, straight steps bare chest
harem pants, camouflage pockets marched straight into those streets.
Something howled in me, felt like a gorilla roar,
and I stood up straight under a crescent moon and dashed across the street!
I dashed on pointed toes right past an oncoming car,
right across his view like some wild animal and was gone to the park before he realized what I was.
I strutted upright right into that park.
I yelled. And then I yelled again.
And each time that yell disappeared into a world way bigger than it.
And I realized then what I was.
I chassed into the center and leaped up!
arched my body forward and stuck my arms straight out past my bowed head,
and torqued my body all the way around.
I brought my fist to the ground!
I spun and jumped. Tonight under that crescent moon with no one watching I danced!
I realized what I was.
I lifted my head up, stuck my neck up straight raised myself onto
:iconWavAngel:WavAngel
:iconwavangel:WavAngel 2 1
Literature
~
Dear God,
I've been growing up for a while now; I really don't know all that much what I'm doing.
It's like -  I remember you in my childhood, and you were there throughout it. But now its like you don't have the same life that you used to. You remind me of my mom. She really has lot of faith in you. And I know that I'm messing up, and that I'm not nearly good enough for you, not even close, but I can't give in. I keep questioning whether I deserve what I'm getting, all the things you have blessed me with. And overwhelmingly the answer is no. I am a product of the entitled society I am living in. I've been worn down that much.
Beautiful changing season,
how I did enjoy your warmth,
The sunshine brightens fast as I turn my gaze to it,
but I close my eyes before I am blinded.
And when the rain came I was outside with you, cheesin with my mouth open.
My clothes got absolutely soaked, but I didn't care. I laughed.
And the girl I love . . .
Lest her mind wanders and she begins
:iconWavAngel:WavAngel
:iconwavangel:WavAngel 1 2

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Activity


Dont you see?
Jesus had jair like lamb's wool
He prolly didnt comb it
Or cut it but let it grow long and nappy
Je prolly ran his hands through it in frusteration
And let those black fingers be the comb
He was prolly called moor
You thunk jesus sang in the bath after long days of sensing the hate of his folks?
I could understand a jesus like that
He must of sang the blues before it was ever the blues
I bet when ge sang his fingers shook and body twisted pulsed and convulsed as if possesed
He played his soul like we played the piano or the violin
I bet he reached between his legs sometimes and felt freedom travel from groin and butt through gis body
He walked with a strut and a switch sometimes to exercise his hips and lower back
To scrst h that itch under his testicles the one that taught gim how to love his brothers so
So that when it came time for him to die for them he felt fear and love and excitement and freedom as all one thing
Jesus prolly walked in the footsteps of his soul
So that xe and xer destiny was onething that ge called "this"
He had an ego but it was more art than Rtist
Jesus had friends that no one else could see and he named the ones closest to him
Magdalena made love to jesus in body soul and mind
Came to him ethereal and coaxed him into pleaure and indulgence so that he wasnt bitter when he served his life sentence only resolute and a little indignant
He had an indigo aura
Jesus stretched like a dog and screamed like an animal like a chimpanzee
He walked long hours with no destinTion in mind so muxh a in spirit
He prolly walked across roads with his eyes xlosed listening for the sound of traffic
He prolly felt god bring her to the precipice and looking down he saw two friends
Fear and death and he prolly cried when he couldn't fall not even for his mother goddess
He looked into lakes and didnt like what he saw sometimes if you can understand this
Jesus
He
Or was she?
His people prolly asked themselves because he seemed to straddle both without seeming unnatural
In fact for them it made her all the moree hallowed and powerful
She cried when her disciple betrayed her and fretted over her nappy hair
She danced with drunk men at night laughing at their silliness and even loved a mam onxe or twice
She stared into the eyes of those she didnt trust like an icy glacier looking down a mountain
She knew how to turn hearts with a flick of her eyes and way of managing to be around sometimes
She prolly wondered about her soul and sought to create of it
Jesus prolly hurt during anal sex but liked sharing that pain with somebody and wanted to be a good gurl
The kind of good that raised movements and religions
That frightened kings and brought war
That wasnt afraid to take the cricifix and resurrected to give her pain away some more
She likes to love but sometimes liked to hate even more
She was a sheperd before she was a prophet and learned the ways of leading and life from sheep
The pain of loss prolly found its way to her when the wolves came for their food
She buried friends and fanily and mourned their passing them celebrated it for the transformation
Jesus slept naked and had dreams of perversion
He loved children as he loved adults and never betrayed his self
She never let the opinions of those who acted in fear of destiny
She only showed them the freedom of courage
Jezus had hair like lamb's wool
Jesus prolly thought movement was tedious sometimes and loved to sleep
Xe prolly had knees yhat hut after too much standing
Xe had a double chin no neck and a belly he liked to hold on his hips like a sleeping child
Xre walked with quickness and power that surprised people
He hung out with folks who got life from buds, flowers, mushrooms, and seeds
He prolly got life from them a few times himself
More than a few
He probably tried desperately to please everyone and came off as pathetic as a result
She needed love that would never come to her on earth so she found it in instead in cosmic echoes and time travel
She was afraid and gave up often
But somehow made a life of what she held on to
Even managed a bit of poetry
Jesus needed help and never spoke of it he let his desperation live in the shame of those that looked up to her
Sxe lived carelessly with indifference and became free in it
Heorsheorratherjustathat
Never imagined that the messiah would be born in revelations that came in madness
She spoke in a void and the people listened to make something of a madness's disease
is ther a hope fo rme? I sat down at the desk and looked up at teh ceiling of the dormitory and asked
G
OD WHY?
hmph, hahaha, you gotta hear this, this, this is pure, pure pleasure.ye
SO, what does a sex obsessed boy-girl do with her time?
Write, yes. Jack off, yes. But other things to.
Well, i might try to write this in a way that would make sense to you, but i'm not sure that i t wil always come out that way. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
i'm ur tyipcal transgender girl. if ther can be said to be a typical girl. I'm skinny, black, boring mostly, dreamy type. Always off in my own world. y
that i am but atom amongst molecules, cells, tissues, organs, systems, bodies, beings, environments, ecosystems, worlds, stars, galaxies, and universes if not of doubt. I'm sure we all identify with such a sense of smallishness.
but I'm also a witch. Let me cast eh spell for ya. Lets start with, oh say, the origin and future of teh universe? 
on second thought, that seems a bit to much for me right now, so lets go with something a little smaller, say, my own origin and birth.
I was born in Boston, MA in 1994 at Boston medical, 10:04pm. 
1. a broken hair comb
Wear when going on strike
the magistrate will say
“You are in strike against God and nature”.
arm in arm with your fellow union members
picket as hired thugs and paid policeman beat you
demand an 8 hour working day and livable wages.
Say “I have no more patience for talk”
2. patent leather oxfords with the laces still tied in a knot
Capitalism has demanded its price of immigrant women’s bodies
You must leap into an elevator shaft fire blazing back behind you
dance burning on the factory floor behind a door locked
by the owners to prevent theft
Burned body identifiable by the work of dentists
by braids done the morning before the fire,
by stitches mothers recognize on their daughter’s stocking.
3. a rosary
Wear looking into the eyes of
policemen who beat you
who break down facing the carnage
who have to be changed
every hour
unlike these policemen
you, an immigrant woman employee of the Triangle Shirtwaist factory
sat in stools 15 hours a day
on a slice of bread for breakfast, a roll for lunch, and a slice of apple pie for dinner if you worked overtime.
4. a fur trimmed hat with a crushed red rose
They say “Against God and Nature”
You say “The women of the triangle shirtwaist company weren’t striking against God and Nature, They strike against white men who aren’t empathetic enough to care about the lives of 14 year old girls sewing 12 hours a day. it was the white men Max Blanck and Isaac Harris who broke and burned bodies to fuel their patri-capitalist shirtwaist machine.”
5. A Scorched to shreds shirtwaist
Tho being known to start fires in their factories to collect insurance
They’ll be acquitted by a white male jury
Wear in civil suit against them
when receiving a settlement of $75 in exchange for your daughter
Wear with a broken hair comb, patent leather oxfords with the laces still tied in a knot, a rosary, a fur trimmed hat with a crushed red rose, and a scorched to shreds shirtwaist
Max Blanck will be charged with locking one of the doors of his factory.
he is fined twenty dollars and the judge apologizes to him for the imposition.
Untitled
Written in memory of the 146 victims of white male's greed.

"The fire at the Triangle Waist Company in New York City, which claimed the lives of 146 young immigrant workers, is one of the worst disasters since the beginning of the Industrial Revolution.This incident has had great significance to this day because it highlights the inhumane working conditions to which industrial workers can be subjected. To many, its horrors epitomize the extremes of industrialism.The tragedy still dwells in the collective memory of the nation and of the international labor movement. The victims of the tragedy are still celebrated as martyrs at the hands of industrial greed".

Triangle Shirtwaist Factory Fire Information source: trianglefire.ilr.cornell.edu/s…
Loading...
is ther a hope fo rme? I sat down at the desk and looked up at teh ceiling of the dormitory and asked
G
OD WHY?
hmph, hahaha, you gotta hear this, this, this is pure, pure pleasure.ye
SO, what does a sex obsessed boy-girl do with her time?
Write, yes. Jack off, yes. But other things to.
Well, i might try to write this in a way that would make sense to you, but i'm not sure that i t wil always come out that way. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
i'm ur tyipcal transgender girl. if ther can be said to be a typical girl. I'm skinny, black, boring mostly, dreamy type. Always off in my own world. y
that i am but atom amongst molecules, cells, tissues, organs, systems, bodies, beings, environments, ecosystems, worlds, stars, galaxies, and universes if not of doubt. I'm sure we all identify with such a sense of smallishness.
but I'm also a witch. Let me cast eh spell for ya. Lets start with, oh say, the origin and future of teh universe? 
on second thought, that seems a bit to much for me right now, so lets go with something a little smaller, say, my own origin and birth.
I was born in Boston, MA in 1994 at Boston medical, 10:04pm. 

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WavAngel
Kali Robinson
Artist | Student | Varied
United States
I dance. I write.
Interests

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Add a Comment:
 
:iconsrbascon:
SrBascon Featured By Owner Sep 25, 2017  Hobbyist Photographer
Thanks by SrBascon  
Reply
:iconwavangel:
WavAngel Featured By Owner Oct 3, 2017  Student General Artist
np! :D
Reply
:icondylanseto:
DylanSeto Featured By Owner Dec 28, 2015   Artist
Hey~~

Just wanted to thank you for the fave!

Also, since I'm currently focusing on music, I was wondering if you'd be interested in listening/sharing my music?

If you are, I can link you to where you can find that stuff!

-Dylan Seto
Reply
:iconwavangel:
WavAngel Featured By Owner Jan 8, 2016  Student General Artist
np!:D (Big Grin)  and sure link me!
Reply
:icondylanseto:
DylanSeto Featured By Owner Jan 10, 2016   Artist
Okay!

Here: youtu.be/XzLJRk7DKZM

Let me know what you think :)

And if you like it, sharing it would be cool too. ;)
Reply
:iconlaceycheshiregrin:
LaceyCheshireGrin Featured By Owner Nov 17, 2015  Hobbyist Writer
THX 4 THE FAV!! :woohoo: :hug: :iconiamhappyplz:
Reply
:iconwavangel:
WavAngel Featured By Owner Dec 26, 2015  Student General Artist
:D
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:iconlaceycheshiregrin:
LaceyCheshireGrin Featured By Owner Jan 8, 2016  Hobbyist Writer
Thx again :iconweeeplz:
Reply
:iconwavangel:
WavAngel Featured By Owner Jan 8, 2016  Student General Artist
:D (Big Grin) !
Reply
(1 Reply)
:iconlaceycheshiregrin:
LaceyCheshireGrin Featured By Owner Sep 13, 2015  Hobbyist Writer
THX 4 THE FAV!! :woohoo: :hug: :iconiamhappyplz:
Reply
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