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About Deviant Premium Member SonicLover25/Male/United States Groups :iconrhythmangels: RhythmAngels
Be one with the rhythm!
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Deviant for 7 Years
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Statistics 894 Deviations 19,846 Comments 54,518 Pageviews

Newest Deviations

Don't forget, this isn't all I've got. I encourage you to browse through some of my older deviations, too! And PLEASE leave your comments!

Random Favourites

I don't have a lot of favorites. Giftart is the only thing I can be counted on to fave; you can find it in the "Friendables" folder.


A Perry the Platypus plush, two Pascals and a Weresonic? I'm not gonna ask. Anyways, on to the matter at hand. This piece has excellent...

Alright, I suppose it can't hurt to get back into the practice of writing these critique things. Let's see now. The composition of this...

Something about this is different from the style I'm used to seeing from you. Maybe it's the outlines, maybe it's not. But I sort of li...

This is... I'm not a fan of gore, but I can't let this go without comment. Vision: I can't say much about this because I'm not sure wha...

I don't critique much, but I still give more critiques than I receive. But those of you with premium memberships can fix that, right?

Trusting a child under the age of 10 with an electronic device that costs over $100 is an inherently bad idea. Agree or disagree? 

6 deviants said Agree
6 deviants said Slightly agree
3 deviants said Neither agree nor disagree
1 deviant said Disagree
No deviants said Strongly agree
No deviants said Slightly disagree
No deviants said Strongly disagree



Short Story (normal)
Self-explanatory.  Tell me exactly what you want, and you'll get it.  I'll write about just about anything, but be prepared to supply any reference materials I request.
Short Story (blind)
Like the normal Short Story commission, but with a twist: you're not allowed to specify a single detail about what you want.  I'll just do something I think you'll like.
Short Story (semi-blind)
The median between normal and blind.  You're allowed to specify one or two details-- the main character, or the theme, or perhaps even the title-- but that's it.
Got a fictional 'verse you're proud of, but that could use one or two more characters?  I'd be happy to make a character for it!  (Pictoral references not available; textual profiles only.)
I'm posing an open challenge to all of my active watchers.

Here's the task: browse through my gallery, look for a deviation that you previously overlooked (there almost certainly is one), peruse it for at least five minutes, and leave a thoughtful comment on it.
  • Mood: Distracted

Journal History


"Now, I know this must sound hard to believe from your position, but you're in no danger.  You'll come out of this just fine.  Just relax and don't struggle.  Now hold still... *GULP*" --Nancy

Type of character: Sonicverse - Gigant's interpretation

Name: Nancy Deuce
Age: About 30
Gender: F
Race/species: Cow (Mobian)
Occupation: "Supplier" - Golden Fields Dairy Factory (see "Modus operandi" below for details)

Family and associates:
No known living relatives.  Single.  Good friends with Marisa the Bat.

First things first, let's get the important thing out of the way: Nancy is a giantess.  She stands at roughly ten stories tall.  Her body proportions, however, are normal.  Her primary body color is a bright green (#80FF80), broken up by huge blotches of orange (#FFBF80); her muzzle is flesh-colored.  She has two small, white horns that stick straight up, and small ears that stick sideways.  Her breasts can range from "semi-buxom" to "so buxom it's a miracle she can stand up straight", depending on how much milk she's got stored in them.  Her tail is about as long as her legs, and ends in a brown hairy tip.

She wears a simple pair of blue jeans and a brown pair of laceless leather boots, but her top is more interesting: it resembles a sleeveless top, but the area covering her breasts has a stud-fastened flap that can be opened up to leave her nipples bare.  The area around the flap is elastic to accommodate the variable size of Nancy's breasts, and the underside has cups so she doesn't have to wear a bra.  The top is a uniform black in color.  Marisa had this top custom-made for Nancy, who didn't think to ask by whom.

Modus operandi:
Every few days, Nancy will head out into a largely populated area to "feed".  She will scoop up Mobians left and right and swallow them whole, taking care to minimize collateral damage.  Anyone she consumes is digested quickly and painlessly, converted into milk, and stored in Nancy's breasts.

Once Nancy has eaten her fill, she will return to the Golden Fields Dairy Factory, where she opens the flap on her top and a special milking machine is attached to her breasts, draining the milk from them.  The milk is then made into various dairy products to be sold.  Nancy produces so much milk, the GFDF barely needs any other cows at all.

Before pasteurization, the milk is run through a special machine that Marisa helped install in the Dairy Factory.  The machine "filters" the milk and restores anyone who was digested to create it.  Nancy or Marisa will then take them back home... and give each one a complimentary carton of fresh milk, of course.  (If it's Nancy, she may teleport them home-- I'll explain her teleportation power further down.)

Nancy is a positive individual.  She refuses to let small things depress her, knowing full well that she's had worse troubles.  She tries to make friends with people, and is accepting of how hard this is to do for a ten-story giantess.  She's developed a fondness for exploring and seeing new sights, which is ironic considering her past.  She hates being alone, much preferring to hang out with her friends.

She harbors some sorrows from her past, such as the loss of her family and her memories of torture and agony at the hands of her abductors (again, I'll explain further down), but refuses to dwell on them, and hides them from view.  When "feeding", she tries to minimize the panic and suffering of her "victims", reassuring them that they won't be in any danger before eating them, or just teleporting them directly into her stomach before they can react.

Obviously, Nancy is capable of producing milk; in fact, she produces a bit more than most cows do, and not just because of her alternative choice of food source.  She also has the standard abilities that come with being a giantess (enhanced skeletal strength so she can bear her own weight, light tread so she doesn't sink into the ground, etc.)

More interesting is her ability to teleport, given to her by Goddess Tikala (see the history section for the details of that).  Not only can she teleport herself from place to place over distances of several miles, but she can teleport other objects that are close to her and smaller than she is (and for a giantess the latter's a wide category).  She can't teleport instantly; she needs to take a breath and focus first.  However, because this power is fueled by her negative emotions, she can teleport more efficiently and with less focus when she's feeling particularly sad or angry.  The amount of focus she needs scales directly with both the size of the object teleported and the distance covered.

Nancy's life was ordinary at first.  She grew up in the countryside with her parents and four or five brothers and sisters.  She was a vegetarian, and enjoyed the simple life.  But everything went to the proverbial Hades one night when she and her family were abducted by aliens.

Whisked away to an unknown planet, Nancy and her family were subjected to all sorts of nightmarish tests and experiments.  Nancy herself was injected with special alien hormones that made her grow to a giant size and altered her digestive system.  This went on for weeks, until Nancy learned by chance that the aliens' experiments had killed everyone but her.  She snapped, broke free, and went on a rampage, killing aliens and destroying their technology left and right.

As her rage finally died down, Nancy realized she was now stranded all alone on an alien planet, with seemingly no way home.  Her gloom attracted the attention of Tikala in her goddess form, who happened to be passing through that section of the universe.  Sensing that Nancy was stuck with a fate she didn't deserve, Tikala decided to "help Nancy help herself"-- and sculpted the cow's grief and desire to be home into power.  With this newfound power, Nancy channeled her negative feelings and made herself vanish, to reappear back on the planet she called home.

Of course, Nancy quickly realized she could not resume her normal life.  Her parents and siblings, the people she loved most, were all dead.  Her new size made virtually everything she took for granted in life rather impossible; she doubted she'd be able to sleep under a roof, wear clothing, or eat a filling portion of tomato soup ever again.  What's more, she had developed a strange hunger, a desire to eat other Mobians whole and relish their flavors.  She felt horrible all over again, and her will to live started to wane.  She teleported again and again, all over the world, attempting in vain to diffuse her grief.

Then she crossed paths with a green bat named Marisa.  Seeing another giantess (who wasn't a goddess) was something of a surprise to Nancy, doubly so upon learning that the bat wasn't an abductee like the cow was.  Nevertheless, Marisa was very kind, and once they'd traded stories the two became fast friends.  Marisa helped Nancy grow accustomed to her body's new properties, got her some new clothes (her old ones no longer fit her, for obvious reasons), and most importantly, put a smile on her face for the first time in a long while.

It was through Marisa that Nancy learned of the GFDF, which was struggling at the time due to a shortage of supply.  Nancy was reluctant to offer her services at first, but decided it was probably the best way to move forwards with her life.  Marisa helped her get set up, making sure the factory had everything it needed to use her services.  Since then, she's more or less lived at the factory, supplying it with milk in exchange for little more than a purpose and a place to call home.

Misc. info:
Nancy loves music, and prefers to listen to some whenever she's being milked.  Acoustic instruments are her favorite; in fact, she started taking guitar lessons shortly before her abduction.  She's out of practice now (where do you find a guitar a ten-story giantess can play?).

She attempted to raid San Miyamoto (the city Vincent Palm defends) for "food" once.  She was inexperienced at the time, so she caused more panic and destruction than she intended to.  Vincent heard her out, and offered her some advice for reducing the damage she caused in the future-- but followed her back to the GFDF just to make sure she could be trusted.

In some towns, Nancy is well-known; the residents know that being eaten by her doesn't lead to anything catastrophic, and offer themselves voluntarily to her when she comes.  She frequents these towns because she knows she can "feed" at them without guilt, but still likes to explore new places.

This profile is my attempt to challenge myself in a very particular way: create the sort of character that another person would create.  Gigantlover20 was my subject.  Nancy is a giantess, she has a vore-related ability, and her backstory is an emotional rollercoaster and suggests a tight continuity-- all things I've seen over and over in his characters.  And before you assume I'm insinuating otherwise, recurring themes are NOT necessarily a bad thing.
Character profile: Nancy
This character profile was a challenge for myself: to create the sort of character someone else would create by applying the recurring themes I've seen in that person's work.  Nancy here is made to be a Gigantlover20 character.  In retrospect I probably should've chosen someone with less complex tastes.

Special thanks goes to lizardman22 for helping me so much with this profile.  I never would've been able to complete it without him.

I don't know what I'm going to do with this character.  Maybe I'll keep her; maybe I'll let Gigant have her.

Tikala and Marisa are © :icongigantlover20:
Vincent is © me
I think only one person ever actually reads these status updates.
The alleyway was quiet, save for the hum of a few air conditioners.  A black-and-white kitten by the name of Color wandered by himself along the alley; he'd never been to this alley before, and wanted to do some exploring.  Occasionally he would pause and peek into a trash can in search of something shiny, but for some reason all the trash was dull and boring today.

As he passed by the back door of one building in particular, a scent coming from it made him stop in his tracks.


Color's nose hadn't betrayed him.  That building was a bakery, the newly opened Sprocket Bros. Bakery to be more precise, and someone was baking cookies inside.

Discreetly the kitten pushed the door open, glancing back and forth.  He'd definitely entered the kitchen, and it appeared to be vacant, not a butcher or baker or candlestick maker in sight.  The scent of cookies was still strong, though.

Surely no one would notice if I pinched just one cookie.  Maybe two or three.

Color searched around for the cookies he was smelling, but couldn't quite track the scent down.  It was strongest near the ovens, but the bottom two ovens-- which were the only ones he could see into at his height-- were empty.

Not giving up so easily, Color scrambled up to the top of a nearby counter to get a better view.  Sure enough, in one of the higher ovens was a cookie sheet full of fresh chocolate chip cookies.  The sight of them made the kitten's mouth water.

Eeeee!  They look so YUMMY!

Color's attention was so set on the cookies in front of him that he didn't notice that he was standing directly on a cutting board, nor that a robot wielding a rolling pin was standing immediately behind him.

You see, the Sprocket Bros. Bakery was no ordinary bakery.  All the bakers were robots, and every step of the baking process was automated.  Each robot had a different task that it performed independently of the others, ultimately producing baked goods untouched by organic hands.

The rolling-pin robot, sensing something heavy on the cutting board and being still set on "cookies", assumed that the mixing robot had just given it a new batch of cookie dough to be rolled and cut.  It had no way of knowing that this "cookie dough" was black and white with a red scarf.

Color was still admiring the cookies in the oven when he felt something strike his side, knocking him onto his back.  He tried to stand up, but the robot was already applying the rolling pin to the kitten's stomach, gradually pressing him flat.


The kitten's protests fell on deaf ears; the robots weren't equipped with voice recognition, and there wasn't a live person in the kitchen.  The robot worked back and forth with the pin, flattening Color more and more until he was a uniform quarter-inch thick.

But that was just the beginning of Color's worries.  A mechanical arm pressed a cookie cutter into the flattened kitten, severing a piece out of him before carefully prying it out and depositing the piece on a clean cookie sheet.  It felt very odd, having just that piece missing from him.

Then the cookie cutter struck again, and again.  Color winced as he felt himself shrink, piece by piece.  Just when he thought it was over, the cookie cutter running out of places to cut, he was mashed together and flattened again by the rolling pin, leaving him a fresh slate for the cutter.

By the time the cookie cutter finally relented, the kitten had been cut into exactly two dozen pieces of various shapes, his face having somehow made its way into the center of one of them.  He stared helplessly up at the ceiling, wondering what was next.

You mix the cookie dough, you roll it, you cut it... you bake it!

Indeed, Color was literally about to be baked.  A forklift-like mechanism picked up the cookie sheet containing the chopped-up kitten and deposited it and him into one of the unused ovens, which switched on automatically.  It felt like a sauna, and it smelled of cookies, having been used to bake them not long before; the scent drove Color almost to tears as he realized it was the cause of his current plight.

STUPID COOKIES!  I'M NEVER EATING ANOTHER COOKIE EVER AGAIN!  ...until tomorrow at least.  Maybe sooner.

Eventually, the warmth of the oven lulled Color to sleep.  He snoozed silently as he was baked into two dozen fresh kitten cookies.  He didn't even wake up as he was removed from the oven and deposited into the display case at the front of the store.

After that, though, the scent of fresh cookies all around him made him open his eyes quickly, and he found he was hungry all over again.

But I'm a bunch of cookies now... so does that mean someone's gonna eat me?  I don't wanna be eaten!
Cookie Calamity -Toon- -Req.-
A request I took because I was bored.  Well, technically it's a commission since I'm getting points for it, but the requester called it a request.

I spent longer than I should've deciding on a title for this story.

Color is © :iconcoloredraininlives:
I'm posing an open challenge to all of my active watchers.

Here's the task: browse through my gallery, look for a deviation that you previously overlooked (there almost certainly is one), peruse it for at least five minutes, and leave a thoughtful comment on it.
  • Mood: Distracted
It was a cold autumn evening.  If not for the science expo in town, Snapdragon wouldn't have ever ventured outside.  His teeth chattered as he wrapped his tail around himself in a futile attempt to warm himself.

Snapdragon was a dark green alligator (or was he a crocodile?  Even HE was never sure) with a light green underbelly that extended along his arms and legs.  His snout was elongated, and his back bore two vertical columns of slightly longer, black scales.  Most distinguishing was his scaly hide, which was incredibly coarse front and back; his scales were so rough they could be used to sand wood.

I'm so COLD!  I'd better find some extra insulation before I retire to my hotel room.

Glancing up, Snapdragon noticed that he was passing by the expo grounds.  Despite the expo not opening until the next day, he could see that one of the exhibits was open.  The words "BLANKET MAKER" graced the top of a large, cubical thing the size of a bedroom, and made of shiny metal.  A single unobstructed doorway formed the entrance.

The crocodile (alligator?) approached the Blanket Maker, glancing it up and down.  A brown otter entered the exhibit ahead of him; Snapdragon began to follow, but a sign posted by the entrance caught his attention.

This exhibit is open early due to the unexpected cold front.  One person may enter at a time.
If you see a blanket inside, feel free to claim it.  If not, stand on the red line and press the button.

As Snapdragon finished reading, the otter left again, carrying an orange-yellow blanket with leopard spots.

Guess it's my turn, then.

Bravely, the alligator (crocodile?) marched into the room.  It was as white and shiny on the inside as on the outside, and lit by fluorescent lights on the ceiling.  As promised, a red line crossed the floor from left to right, and just behind it Snapdragon noticed a red button on a little box mounted at the end of a pole.  He followed the pole by eye up to the ceiling; the pole looked like it telescoped, but he wasn't sure why.

The room did not, however, contain anything resembling a blanket, much to his disappointment.

Well, I guess I'd better follow the instructions, then.  "Stand on the red line and press the button."

Snapdragon took his position on the red line, noting by touch that it was raised, like a speed bump.  Then he raised one finger and applied pressure to the button, letting it depress with a click.

Almost immediately, the pole the button was mounted on collapsed, retracting into the ceiling.  The crocodile (alligator?) blinked in confusion, but before he could contemplate the matter further two sections of floor swung up in front of and behind him, slamming together and smashing him flat.

Seconds later, the floor sections swung down again, allowing the newly flattened alligator (crocodile?) to flop to the ground.  Snapdragon caught a glimpse of the button sliding back down to its original position, preparing itself for its next customer.

It occurred to him that he was not only very flat, but very wide as well; if he had to guess, he'd say he was now a perfect rectangle the size of a bedsheet.

Okay, what the heck?  Why'd it flatten me?  This thing's supposed to make blankets, not... not... oh.  Oh, those sly weasels!

It all made sense in Snapdragon's head now.  He recalled the mental image of the otter carrying the leopard-print blanket.  The blanket had probably been a leopard who had pressed the button and gotten squished just like the crocodile (alligator?) had.  The Blanket Maker worked as advertised: it made blankets... out of whoever used it.

So I guess I'm going to be the next person's blanket, then.  Wonder who it'll be.

No sooner had those thoughts crossed through his mind than another person, a purple vixen, stepped into the chamber.  She picked up the alligator-turned... crocodile-turned... reptile-turned-blanket and examined him front and back, running her hands over him.

This won't be so bad.  I won't be directly insulated from the cold, but I'll still share someone's body heat.  It should still be a comfortable night.

"Ugh!  This blanket feels like sandpaper!  I'll never sleep comfortably under this!"


Tossing Snapdragon roughly into a corner, the vixen stepped up to the button and pushed it.  The alligator (crocodile?) mentally winced at the sound of the floor plates slamming together again, turning the vixen into another blanket.

Frustrated at being rejected, Snapdragon tried to get up and leave, but being so flat left his muscles completely numb.  He couldn't even call for help; his throat was too thin to carry his voice.

As hours passed, customers continued to enter the Blanket Maker, some receiving blankets, others becoming them.  Every now and then someone would notice Snapdragon and pick him up, only to decide that his rough texture made him a poor blanket and discard him again.

Snapdragon froze to death in the Blanket Maker that night, a useless reptilian blanket that nobody wanted.
A Blanket Statement -Toon-
Trigger warning: This story has a sad ending.

I had a strange urge to deconstruct something, so here you go.  This story is based loosely on a comic by Ryusuta that I stumbled upon in someone's favorites; I think I changed enough details that I don't have to fuss with ownership rights.

I accidentally pressed ESCAPE while writing this and lost the whole thing.  Don't do that.
I just found out that if you press Escape while using DA's "Enter Text" submission method, the writing window is closed and whatever you wrote is erased and can't be retrieved.
It's a rainy Saturday evening in London, and due to a new curfew all the bars have closed sooner than usual.  Mild-mannered gentleman Joseph Faraway, having little to do after being forced to part early with his alcoholic mistress, decides to play a game of chess against himself.

Of course, in his drunken state, he barely follows the rules at all.

Knights do not move two up and one sideways.  Bishops do not move in diagonals.  Pieces leapfrog one another without regard.  One turn Faraway moves a piece as though it's a white rook, the next as a black queen.

Faraway's manner of play is so ridiculous that he accidentally releases the spirit of chess itself out of the game board and pieces, and into himself.

A moment later, he is Joseph Faraway no more.  He is the White King.

The spirit of chess gives Faraway phenomenal powers.  He has an entire army of pawns, bishops, and knights at his disposal.  He can move people, objects, buildings as easily as chess pieces.  And he is the ultimate strategist, capable of outwitting nearly anyone, planning lifetimes ahead, and willingly arranging circumstances that a normal man or woman would consider miraculous coincidence.

He chooses to use this power to take a stand against the inexplicable upsurge of super-villainy that has recently begun to threaten the world.  After all, that would be the strategic thing to do.

(That's how @^&#$ing silly your superhero origin story looks.)
The White King
I randomly decided to write a mock superhero origin story.  Or something.
10:45 at night.  Kept awake by anxiety about the impossible deadline for my final project for one of my classes.  Made good use of my insomnia... to work on that final project.
Skydiving in cartoon worlds is significantly different from real-world skydiving, owing mainly to the fact that cartoon characters are nearly impossible to injure or kill.

A 'toon skydiver or base jumper seldom uses a parachute or any other safety equipment that are ordinarily indispensable for a safe landing.  Then again, for 'toon skydivers, landing "safely" typically defeats the purpose-- they rely on their own cartoon invulnerability in the same way that normal skydivers rely on their parachutes.

There are at least three common methods of cartoon skydiving, each of which exploits the air friction and the diver's cartoon invulnerability in a different way.

The "flat dive" is usually recommended for beginners, or those without a diving target.  The diver extends their limbs and keeps their body face down and parallel to the ground, like a real-life skydiver would to slow their descent.  The air pressure flattens the diver into a sheet, enabling them to drift gently to the ground like an autumn leaf.

The "cannonball dive" is a bit more extreme.  The diver tucks in their arms and legs and tumbles in the air, and the air friction compresses and smooths the diver into a tight sphere.  Depending on the rigidness of the surface landed on, the diver may leave a circular crater in the ground, or they may bounce up again like a rubber ball, to continue bouncing until they come to rest.  This dive was used for strategic demolition decades ago.

Pros often use the "arrow dive".  The diver faces straight down with their arms in front of them, mimicking an arrow.  The air friction does not compress them, but heats them up to near-melting temperatures.  Upon touchdown, the diver splatters like a paintball over a wide area.  A talented diver can splatter themselves so far that it can be days before they're in one piece again; aerial photographs of the best splatters often turn up in skydiving magazines.

One of the more famous skydivers is Rosalyn "Rocket" Kettle, a black lioness who has on many occasions claimed to be in love with the sky.  She has performed many dives during her career, but favors the arrow dive.  She pioneered a special approach related to the arrow dive: before the dive, she arranges for a giant stencil to be placed over the target zone.  Then after she hits the ground and splatters, the stencil is removed, revealing a huge message or image painted across the ground.
Cartoon Skydiving
Remember Cartoon Bullfighting?  I'm at it again.

...I wonder if I got myself added to any FBI watch lists by discussing skydivers splattering artistically across the ground.
Just received my first jury summons.  As if having finals next week wasn't stressful enough.


United States



Add a Comment:
lizardman22 Featured By Owner 1 day ago  Hobbyist Traditional Artist
thank you so very much for the points, Mate
(1 Reply)
coloredraininlives Featured By Owner 6 days ago  Student Writer
Hellos do you do requests?:3
(1 Reply)
Wolfertech Featured By Owner Nov 18, 2014  Hobbyist Digital Artist
I chalange you to say something possitive! ;p and I don't mean saying "five" or "Proton" or anything like that! ;)
(1 Reply)
HeartinaThePony Featured By Owner Nov 8, 2014  Hobbyist Digital Artist
Do you take requests?
(1 Reply)
lizardman22 Featured By Owner Oct 18, 2014  Hobbyist Traditional Artist
Hi mate
How do you make links to other pages?
I was trying to make a link from one chapter of my Wold war scar story to another, but all i got was this: <da:thumb id="479049646">
I did what i usually did (Copy and past the page) but this didn't work for some reason
(1 Reply)
Wolfertech Featured By Owner Sep 4, 2014  Hobbyist Digital Artist
Nice to talk with you again! :D long time no see really!
(1 Reply)
Archer7Tadayoshi Featured By Owner Aug 13, 2014  Hobbyist Digital Artist
I'll give you 10 points if you create a code sheet that would be good for law enforcement use over cb radio, using only letters and numbers as pictographs describing the situation.

For example here is one for packages:

E3 = regular package

E7 = damaged package

8B = bundled package

CD = Locked package

HU = opened bundled package

UL = opened regular package

And yes I am very aware of the 10 codes, I'm looking for something almost unbreakable for when I play FPS' together online with my friends.
(1 Reply)
ragtagwarrior Featured By Owner Jul 26, 2014
On a scale of one to ten, how ironic is it that the character I adopted became a fill-in character?
(1 Reply)
lizardman22 Featured By Owner Jun 28, 2014  Hobbyist Traditional Artist
Thank you for the points, Mate.
You're far too kind.
(1 Reply)
Thegamer499 Featured By Owner May 31, 2014  Hobbyist General Artist
Happy late birthday!
(1 Reply)
lycaon1765 Featured By Owner May 31, 2014  Hobbyist General Artist
Happy Birthday !!!!
(1 Reply)
Tmaneea Featured By Owner May 31, 2014  Hobbyist General Artist
Happy birthday. I hope you've had a really great day.
(1 Reply)
lizardman22 Featured By Owner May 31, 2014  Hobbyist Traditional Artist
Happy birthday, mate
(1 Reply)
nndragon4 Featured By Owner May 31, 2014  Student Writer
happy birthday man
bogm0nst3r Featured By Owner May 31, 2014
Happy birthday! Party PARTY HARD Professor Party Awkward emoticon dance Happy dance :birthdaybang: :8Bparty: Tabbymote celebrating Forgot it's your birthday? :partyla: :lemonparty: Dance Dance Emote Disco Ball Emote 
ragtagwarrior Featured By Owner May 31, 2014
Happy Birthday, Interface.

Have some cake! :iconpancakeglompplz:
(1 Reply)
Gigantlover20 Featured By Owner May 31, 2014
Happy birthday man.
(1 Reply)
Kathalia Featured By Owner May 31, 2014  Hobbyist Traditional Artist
Happy Birthday!
(1 Reply)
Basher954 Featured By Owner May 31, 2014  Hobbyist Digital Artist
Happy Birthday! :party: :cake:
(1 Reply)
lizardman22 Featured By Owner May 29, 2014  Hobbyist Traditional Artist…
An (Early) birthday gift, mate. Hope you like it :)
(1 Reply)
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