Here's to a new thread for our favorite wonderbolt, and pony.
Any and all draw- and/or writefagging is appreciated!
Thank you for the bin and these wonderful threads
I need to learn how to draw
it's hard to find reference pictures of people sitting in this position at this angle
Aye, I just think that the Pastebin's long enough to take at least an hour to read, and if it's just getting bigger, I wouldn't want some new people get even further left behind while they try to catch up. But, if you say so, Anons...
But if anyone needs it, I always could.
So, then, back to writing!
Yes, get on with it!
And I'm out for now. See you guys when I get home later.
I'm never kill, only relocated.
>You bring your focus back the the menu before you.
>-HOLY SHIT IS THAT STEAK?!
>You accidentally squeak in excitement.
>...You hope Spitfire didn't hear that.
>You casually glance across the menu, and see her just smiling at you.
>-FUCK, SHE DID.
>You slowly hide your face with your menu and just resume browsing.
>Okay, so, steak is now definitely an option.
>This is all just a matter of what you want to remember first.
>Daaamn, even lamb!
>You scan and filter out the shit you don't want into three beautiful choices.
>Aged ribeye steak with a baked potato and corn, a whole rack of ribs drenched in barbecue sauce and sided with mashed potatoes, or a bleu cheese mushroom burger with fries...
>This is probably the toughest choice you've ever had to make in your LIFE.
>You rub your face with a hand in thought.
>-Oh shit, here comes the waitress!
>-Oh shit, here comes the waitress...
>You instantly frown.
>It's not a rude frown, though, just because you don't want to have your food spat in, but it's enough to give her the message that you're still sour about earlier.
>She sees your frown, and the smile on her face just grows.
>"So, what can I get you two lovebirds today?"
>You stop yourself from cursing and take a very deep breath as a result.
>She just laughs.
>Your eye twitches.
>You just blink and angrily stare at the menu before you.
>And because of that, she turns to Spitfire first.
>"What would YOU like?"
>"...I'll get a garden salad, please."
>The griffon nods, then puts this shit-eating grin on her face before turning to you.
>"And you, dear sir?"
>You drop the menu and immediately notice Spitfire looking elsewhere.
>More importantly, at the people eating.
>And more importantly importantly, at WHAT they're eating.
>She looks kind of... disturbed.
>You internally sigh.
>The carnivore in you is pissed off now.
"Make that two salads."
Remember to bump the thread, folks. This time, I'm actually gonna have to go offline.
I'm fucking scarred for life, Anon. I literally have some images burned into my brain, popping up as I'm writing. Thanks for that.
>Spitfire's ears perk up, and she just turns to you.
>Even the waitress looks surprised.
>You nod, then give Spitfire a small smile while she just looks at you with a confused look.
>The waitress, of course, notices, while she takes the menus.
>She just looks between you both, then smiles at you, again.
>"Pft, and you say you're not a couple."
>Before you can say anything, she laughs and walks away.
>So you settle on flipping her off, instead.
>You turn back and Spitfire's still just staring at you, shocked.
>"...How come you didn't get any meat things?"
"Wouldn't be fair to enjoy something like that while you just have a salad."
>She pauses, then a smile slowly graces her face.
>It makes you smile.
>Then you blink and will it into a blank look.
>Her smile widens, and she just rolls her eyes.
>And now with nothing to look at, your eyes trail to your drink.
>-Oh shit, it's probably all watered down, now...
>You take a sip and internally shrug.
>It's still bearable.
>You take a bigger sip, and see Spitfire glancing at her drink, now.
>Reminds you of that thing your dad told you about.
>The sudden impulse of eating or drinking when you see someone else doing it.
>It's obviously not just a human thing.
>She takes her glance and downs half the thing.
>She clears her throat, then just takes your drink while you're in the process of sipping on it.
>You're just left with the straw in your mouth while she takes a big sip herself.
>You just stare at her, and after a moment, she slides the drink under the straw again.
>"S-sorry about that. This drink is REALLY strong..."
>You raise an eyebrow and grab the drink.
>The smell alone is pretty strong.
>You take an extremely small sip.
>And it still burns your throat on the way down.
>Holy shit, that's some pretty potent stuff.
Dayum, a whole 8 hours apart.
>This oughta be your go-to place, instead!
>Meat, better drinks, scary griffons...
>What more could someone want?
>You turn back to Spitfire, now extremely impressed at the half of the drink she downed.
>-HOLY SHIT SHE DOWNED HALF OF IT.
>You remember the tolerance levels of ponies perfectly clear, and Spitfire just drank probably five times past that limit.
>Either she's going to pass out, or be EXTREMELY drunk.
>That means extremely drunk.
>-Oh shit, and she hasn't even EATEN anything, yet!
>That means it's going to be WORSE.
>You flag down a guy griffon, and he walks up to you both.
>"Anything you need?"
"Could you swap out her drink for a Hay-Cola like mine?"
>Spitfire dumbly nods, then hiccups.
>He looks back at you.
>"So, she's done with it?"
>Before you can say anything else, he takes the glass and just empties it into his mouth.
>He sighs, then pats your shoulder.
>"...Finish school, man."
>He walks away.
>...What the fuck.
>You turn back to Spitfire, who just hiccups again, then smiles at you.
>"Anon, I am REEEAAALLLY drunk right now."
>You simply nod.
"I can tell."
>She giggles, then hiccups midway through.
>You feel a sudden twinge of panic in your gut.
>Not sure why, exactly.
>Though it's definitely there.
>You also feel a bit... excited?
>So you're pretty much apprehensive, then.
>Still not sure why, though.
>But you guess you'll find out, soon enough.
>Then you see the griffon come back to the table with a glass full of soda.
>He places it before Spitfire, and-
>She's looking at you.
>She's got her head propped up on her hooves, looking at you dreamily with a pair of half-lidded eyes.
>She doesn't even glance at the drink.
>She's just staring into your eyes.
Gonna be honest, I got no idea what those initials stand for.
"...Uh, you okay, Spitfire?"
>She nods, hiccups, then smiles.
>"Never been better, Anon..."
>You simply nod in response, then take a sip of your drink.
>You pause when you feel something under the table.
>She's brushing you with one of her hind legs.
"Uh... what are you doing?"
>You click your tongue.
"Well, it doesn't really FEEL like nothing..."
>You take a sip of your drink.
>A seductive smile crosses her face.
>"Want it to BE something?"
>You choke on your soda, and it spills all over your suit.
>-It just slides off and stays on the seat.
>You don't even FEEL it being wet.
>You wipe that shit down with a napkin and smile.
>Man, your suit would be FUCKED if it weren't for that spell thing.
>-Well, thank Rarity, actually.
>The two should not be compared to each other.
>You look back up, still feeling her brushing your leg.
>She bites her lip.
>"Sooo... What do you say we go to the bathroom, do a little 'waiting' in there until our salads come?"
>Your eyes widen.
>Did she just say that?
>Another memory from yesterday.
>-Actually, EVERYTHING hits you.
>You remember something about a shower, a spaghetti dinner at three in the morning, and being pinned on the couch by her.
>That's where the feeling in your stomach came from.
>That's... just, no!
>The excited part of your apprehensiveness was obviously from something else.
>And that's final.
>You feel her leg move upwards.
>You quickly shake your head.
>-GOD, YOU REMEMBER THIS, TOO!
>You try shielding your eyes, but she hits you with a full blown lip-quiver-big-eyed-look-in-a-begging-stance pout.
Kek, so you're no longer a disease?
Aye, I asked though 'cause I thought you were a namefag just silently judging, waiting for the right moment to just surprise us with dickloads of more content.
N-not that I'm disappointed or anything. You can do whatchu want...
>And as much as you wouldn't like to admit it, that pout of hers is REALLY potent.
>She looks incredibly adorable like that.
>It'd be difficult to say no to her for ANYTHING.
>But still, you won't do... THAT, no matter how many times she pouted.
>You hesitate, but simply shake your head.
>"...W-why not? D-d-do you... do you not like me?"
>Her fake pouting actually becomes genuine.
>Just with waterier eyes.
"N-no, it's not that! But, if we both leave, then they'll think we left and clear the table for someone else!"
>-Nice save, Anon.
>The leg rubbing stops, and her eyes trail to the table.
>You feel the horribly confusing need to comfort her.
>-Well, it's not THAT confusing.
>It's just wanting to cheer up an acquaintance.
>...Though for some reason, your mind is completely unsatisfied with that explanation.
>...Well fuck you too, mind.
>Before you can think, you put your hand on one of her hooves.
>It's like you're not even in any goddamn control right now.
"Look, we don't need to do any of... THAT, to make this night enjoyable, right?"
>She looks up at you, then slightly smiles and nods.
>You quickly retract your hand and stare at the traitorous appendage in anger.
>She takes a sip of her drink, and instinctively, you do the same.
>You catch yourself and smile.
>Man, you really miss your family...
>You'd all go to Applebee's every Friday, and just, well, BEING here, reminds you of that too.
>You softly sigh.
>"What's wrong, Anon?"
>You look up and see Spitfire just staring at you with a concerned expression, a drunken blush covering both her cheeks.
You only get better by trying, which is why I'm cringing my way to becoming a better artist.
>You wave your hand.
>She narrows her eyes and glares, then her look fades into another one of concern.
>"Why won't you talk to me, Anon?"
>She puts her hoof on your hand again.
>"You can always talk to me, Anon. It's what I'm here for..."
>And here you were, thinking she was just here to force you on dates and eat up your time.
>...Though, she IS really pleasant to be with...
>-FUCK YOU, BRAIN.
>Who are you kidding?
>She IS pleasant to be with.
>But only pleasant out of all the ponies you've talked with since you've been here.
>Which is like... less than ten.
>-But it's not HER that's pleasant.
>It's just the company- being something LIVING to talk to, that's pleasant.
>You blink and see her, eyes starting to water.
"S-sorry. I just... I don't like talking about my emotions with anyone."
"A lot of reasons, but no major one. I never even talked to my own family about my feelings."
>She nods and just rubs your hand.
>"Well, I'm not your family. You can tell me whatever you want to."
>She nods, continuing to rub your hand comfortingly.
>You'd move, but you just don't want to be rude.
>But you don't like it.
>You're just not a rude person.
>It's like someone opening a door for you, then you just giving them the finger and walking through the closed one next to them.
>You just don't do it.
>Out of your peripherals, you see the waitress coming by with your plates.
>You yank your hand back with tremendous speed.
Ah, well here, this is the most recent drawing I've made, along with the beautiful pencil I used to make it! This picture is taken with the best and only camera I have in my possession.
Mind the image quality- it's taken from my phone.
>She comes up to your table with two salads and one of those crankable cheese grater things on a tray.
>She just smiles while she places a salad in front of Spitfire.
>...Maybe she didn't see anything?
>"-Oh, yes, please."
>The waitress starts grating.
>-Oh shit, maybe she DIDN'T see it!
>Spitfire asks her to stop, and the waitress moves over to you, leaving her with a small blanket of cheese over her salad.
>She looks at you.
>She didn't see anything-
>"-I saw you holding her hoof, by the way."
>Spitfire drunkenly giggles.
>You feel your face heat up.
"I-I wasn't HOLDING her hoof! Sh-she just had her hoof on my hand! She was comforting me, as a FRIEND."
>She clicks her tongue.
>"Yeah, well, you seem to be getting AWFULLY friendly with her, too."
>Spitfire giggles again.
>You huff and fold your arms.
"Whatever. Just cheese the salad, already..."
>She gives a mock salute, then starts grinding cheese onto your plate.
>"Just tell me when to stop."
>You watch your plate as cheese is just slowly piled up on it.
>After a while, it just becomes cheese topped with cheese.
>She looks at you, still grating.
>"You know... whenever you don't want cheese, just say something."
>You just keep watching the cheese.
>It starts piling up.
>You stare blankly at it.
>"...Any day, now..."
>You stare coldly at her, then the cheese.
>She just nods.
>The cheese continues to pile up, now making a small mound on your plate.
>"Are you just going to use all the cheese-"
"-I'll tell you when to stop."
>She continues grating, and eventually, it just finishes.
>There's now a small mountain of mozzarella on your plate.
>You can't even see the salad anymore.
>She just stares at your plate for a moment.
>"...Well, now you got some extra cheese for your marefriend, right?"
>Your eye twitches.
>She laughs and walks away.
>Dirty Jew bird.
You tell me, man. I think they're pretty good looking, honestly.
Ooh, actually, and I don't know why I kept this shit, y'all can have this beautiful thing I made in MSPaint for the AnonFilly thread.
Is it seriously that scratched? Holy crap, do you work at a sand blasting shop? Humor me and see if the trick of putting clear tape on it works. I've never seen a lens so scratched...
Dammit, now you done gone and got me inspired to do shit.
> You are Lieutenant Ano N. Ymous, Wingman of Captain Spitfire
> Three years ago, you came here in your "big scary loud fast thing" as the locals called it.
> Otherwise known as a plane
> After explaining what it was, and what you did, you found yourself in tryouts for the Wonderbolts.
> Turns out these horses were pretty accepting of your dastardly lie.
> Which involved hours of explaining every detail of your plane, species, you, Earth and every small thing in-between.
> Fuckin' purple horse is crazy for details.
> In reality, you really just inherited it from Papa Ymous, famous stunt pilot.
> You were just a rookie pilot in the 'Murican Navy.
> The Captain's voice brings you back from your musings.
> " Lieutenant, could you come into my office for a moment? "
> You groan, just wanting to lay down and take a break from pulling G's for four hours straight.
> You grab a drink from the cooler before walking into her office and take a seat.
"Yeah, I know. I broke formation during that loop. I wasn't sure if Fleetfoot was gonna hit my wing or not."
> She frowns at you, and puts her head in her hooves.
> " No, Ano, that's not what this is about. " Raising her head up to look at you, she continues on.
> "Though you're still not off the hook about that."
> Fuck. There goes your weekend.
> " I wanted to talk to you about something more important. "
> Oh shit
> Last time she said that was when you both discussed kicking Soarin off the team.
> You nervously take a sip of your drink.
> Almost tastes like Mountain Dew.
> But less dank.
> Hill Frost, they call it.
> " I wanted to ask if you were free for lunch. "
> You swallow it, and lean back in thought.
> In all honesty, you never left your house other than for food, practice, or a show.
> It was a fairly long walk to Ponyville from the edge of the forest, even for someone who was faster than the average pone.
> Might be good for you.
" Yeah, I think I can fit that in my schedule. "
> You say jokingly, she gave you the rest of the day off.
> Which is a nice thing to hear when you wake up at 5:30 in the morning, and go to bed at damn near midnight
> " Yeah, yeah. 12:30 good for you? " You nod. " Good. Dismissed. "
> You struggle for a few seconds trying to get out of the small-ass chair, Spitfire stifling a chuckle, but manage to get up anyway.
> Papa wouldn't deal with this.
> He'd smash that shit from under him and use the pieces as a stilt to get up.
> Ain't no chairs fucked with Papa back home.
> You look at the clock on your way out.
> Still got some time to get out of your flight suit.
> After slipping into something more casual, ( which involved a grey shirt and jeans ) you roamed around town, signed some pictures, and chatted to an overly excited blue pegasus for a while.
> Eventually it was time for lunch, and you headed to Pony Joe's Donut Shop.
> When you got there, Spitfire was already inside and waiting.
> You check the clock on your way in. 12:27.
> Spitfire seems to have noticed you, and is currently waving you over with a smile on her muzzle.
> Taking a seat at the table, you two do a hoofbump, and grab your menus.
> " You know, I can't remember the last time I went out for lunch. Or anywhere other than work, really. "
> Huh. Who knew Spits would be one to share your shut-in nature.
" Yeah, it's a nice place. Cheap, tasty, and entirely unhealthy. "
> Even though the occasional repairs on your aircraft kept you from getting too lazy, you still got a decent workout during training.
> The waiter comes by to take your order, strange, considering the only life you saw when you walked in was customers and Joe himself.
> Must be expanding
> " And what can I get for the stunt fliers today? " The waiter asks.
> " Just two jelly donuts for me. "
" Jelly and two glazed, please. "
> He quickly writes your orders down on a small notepad, and is off to Joe.
> After he's gone, Spitfire looks over to you and asks " You never told me what you did back on Earth. "
> Oh boy.
Getting off for tonight. Will continue if wanted.
Well, after finding my old-ass tablet, getting pissed off by it's slowiness, formatting the entire thing, then messing with its camera settings for probably half an hour, I finally got a camera, and took a shot of dis new thing I just drew.
N-no bully plz...
>Spitfire stares at your plate.
>"A-are you actually going to eat THAT?"
>You shrug and smile.
"Well, I always WAS curious as to where I'd end up next if I died here."
>She stiffens, and her face quickly turns into one of pure worry and shock.
>Her eyes start to water, and her ears fall so her sides.
>"P-please d-don't, Anon... D-don't l-leave me..."
>You raise your hands up.
>You see a tear fall down her cheek.
"-W-what? No, Spitfire, it was just a joke. I'm not ACTUALLY going to eat cheese until I die."
"It was a joke. I'm not stupid enough to cheese myself to death."
>-You could definitely eat meat until you died, though.
>You'd happily do the shit out of that anyday.
>She wipes her eyes and sniffles again.
>You just smile.
"It's nice to know that you worry so much, though."
>It's definitely not something you ever saw your other friends do.
>Hell, those niggers didn't even visit you in the hospital...
>She just nods, then starts slowly eating her salad, eyes only a bit redder.
>It's making you sad really quickly.
"Y-yeah, so, sorry, about that... Shouldn't of made a joke like that."
>She gives you a small smile in response.
>"It's okay, Anonymous... I-I just really don't like the thought of anything bad happening to you..."
>You simply smile and nod.
>...Man, she is a LOT more emotional drunk than she is sober.
>And you're pretty much the complete opposite of that.
>-She still looks really sad, though...
>Gotta diffuse this.
"So, then... how'd you become a Wonderbolt, exactly?"
>Her ears perk up, and she just looks at you.
>"You want to know?"
"Well yeah, of course. I barely know anything about you."
>A small smile forms on her face, and she mindlessly grabs a bite of her salad.
>"W-well, it all started when I was a little filly..."
>it all began when I was a little filly... "
>"W-well, it all started when I was a little filly..."
Oh boy here we go
>you glorious fucks best keep writing now, ya hear?
aye aye cap'm
I'm also gonna get some sleep now. Properly for once. See you on the other side.
>this drawing in under a year
>writing on par with Jeff Mango
Sometimes I wonder why I even bother fucking drawing anymore. Make good use of your skill man, you learn very quickly.
>You scoot a bit closer in your seat and take a sip of your drink, then grab a handful of cheese and chew on that.
>"I remember being in flight camp at the time..."
>You just listen closely.
>"It was all during my final year there, actually. The Wonderbolts themselves had been routinely coming around the camp for future recruit material. They were there for about a week, and that day was the last one they were there for."
>Her smile widens.
>"I hadn't gotten the chance to see them earlier or strut my stuff, so when one of the team showed up, I was so excited..."
>She looks off into the distance a bit.
>"We were going to just do a simple team exercise, and Light Speed HIMSELF had showed up. He was my favorite of all the Wonderbolts, and I asked for an autograph and told him my dream of being a Wonderbolt, the second I saw him."
>She takes a sip of her drink, still smiling.
>"I'll never forget that moment... He had told me that he didn't have a pen or marker on him, so he just gave me his flight goggles, instead... It was one of the greatest moments in my life."
>She looks up at you.
>"-I still have them too, actually. His name was engraved on the side of it."
>"I wore them as soon as I got them, and went over to the other fillies and colts for the exercise. I remember being so proud that I had those goggles, even though they were just given to me."
>"I remember the exercise was just a small obstacle course, and everypony was split into four teams for it. The fastest team to all arrive at the finish line first, won."
>"...But, of course, nopony was able to keep up with me."
>"I went through that course like I had rehearsed it a thousand times- that's how easy it was."
>"...But the second I looked back at the others in my team, there was this huge explosion from behind me, over on the other side of the camp. I remember it being really loud, and there was this weird rainbow that came out of it."
>You simply nod.
>You coulda sworn you've heard something about a rainbow explosion from Dash...
>You can't remember for shit, though.
>"The explosion blinded everypony but me, only because I was looking away from it. Once I had seen that the ponies on my team were blinded and all disoriented, I flew over and helped them out... Dealing with eight ponies who couldn't see or fly right was a big challenge for me."
>She takes another bite of her salad, then just drowns it with her drink.
>"I somehow helped and guided everypony back to the main camp's cloud, then I had this Cutie Mark appear on my flank. About half way, Light Speed had seen me helping the others, and told me that I looked like a natural born leader, and would be perfect for the Wonderbolts. He gave me a pamphlet for the recruitment camps, and once I was able to, I signed up, and the rest is history."
>She finishes off with a smile, then takes another bite of her salad.
"Wow. That's probably more interesting than the sum of my entire life to date..."
>She waves a hoof.
>"Oh, please, there has to be at least ONE thing in your life that was exciting!"
>You pause and think for a moment.
>You shake your head.
"I mean, there was one time I was attacked by a giraffe at the zoo, but that was more terrifying than exciting, really..."
>"So... there isn't a SINGLE thing in your life that you thought was exciting? Nothing?"
>You shake your head.
"If anything in my life was exciting, it's obviously not exciting enough for me to remember it."
>"...What about good moments, then? What's the best thing that's ever happened to you in your life?"
>You think for a moment, then shrug again.
>"Y-you can't be serious!"
"Yeah. I just, I... can't really think of anything memorable that's happened in my life..."
>You twirl the straw in your drink for a moment.
"The most exciting thing for me was just ending up here, but I can't really think of any happy moments I've had."
That's not a Mustang.
>mfw banned for posting lewd.
My only saved art with Spitfire in it, what the heck?
accentuate the positive
eliminate the negative
latch on to the affirmative
don't mess with mr in between
>"Well, I always WAS curious as to where I'd end up next if I died here."
>>She stiffens, and her face quickly turns into one of pure worry and shock.
>>Her eyes start to water, and her ears fall so her sides.
>>"P-please d-don't, Anon... D-don't l-leave me..."
>>You raise your hands up.
>>You see a tear fall down her cheek.
I love this, it's so fucking adorable.
I like the F8F better, personally.
Mainly because it's one of my favorite planes in War Thunder
>go to bed
>go to class
>thread has shit loads of posts compared to last night
For fucks sake writefag I kind of wanted to play games tonight not read.
Captcha is Cactus, it's going up your ass.
You think this is a game, mutherbucker?!
Somehow that doesn't seem very threatening...
Well, I think my dick just exploded.
Guessing game time!
Yep, and I already ruined it with 50+ miles.
Though I really need to fix my fucking sleeping pattern. I'm practically nocturnal at this point.
Anon the last time I sat in an old muscle car, the fucking door swung open while I was riding shotgun during a turn.
But holy shit if I had the money for one...
But anyways, I shall stop hogging up posts like a dirty attention whore and start writing.
> " So, you ever see combat? "
> Spits and you have been talking for almost half an hour now. You've gone over what an aircraft carrier, jet, and a Navy is.
" A few times. Though it was mostly just air strikes. "
> She was pretty interested in the whole supersonic thing.
> You, meanwhile were have a pretty good time, finally talking to someone as a friend, rather than a wingman or an idol.
> " Any relatives serve?"
> A sad look overtakes your smile.
" Uh... yeah. My brother is... was in the Army. He... died a few months before I came here. "
> Your donuts are long gone, and the bill paid, but Spitfire asked you to stay a while longer.
" Heh... It's funny, he told me one time if he came back and I wasn't there... "
> You put your hands on the table.
" ... he'd look in every bar in America for me. "
> Of course, this was just after Papa Ymous died. You were depressed as all hell, and though he tried to hide it, you could tell that your brother was too.
" Some of his Army buddies came to my place. Told me that he died in a old house that smelled like shit. J-jumped on a grenade and saved four other guys. "
> You close your eyes to try and keep it together.
> " Ano? I... I think it's time to head home. Get some rest, I know you haven't been sleeping much. "
> She spoke gently, almost motherly.
" Y-yeah. I gotta... uh, grab ol' Liberty and do some maintenance anyway. Rudder was uh, a bit slow and the left flap didn't deploy right. "
> You named the plane Liberty Prime after a robot in some old game.
> There was more problems than just the rudder and flap, but you just wanted to get home, sleep and forget about Earth.
> You missed your brother almost as much as dad, he inspired you to join the Navy in the first place.
> Dad wanted you to become a racer like him, but he always said to do what you thought was right.
> " Alright. Hey, I had fun today, wanna do it again sometime? "
> You smiled, feeling a little better now that you had something other than sitting around all day.
" Yeah. Let's just... not mention my family next time alright? "
> She smiled back and nodded.
> And with that, you headed back home.
> Your home wasn't all that big, but wasn't small either. It bordered in the middle of the line, cozy, warm, and was perfect for what you needed.
> It was made of wood, cut down from the nearby Everfree, with five rooms inside. A bedroom, bathroom, kitchen, guest bedroom, and a living room, in which you spent most of your free time.
> Well decorated, but simple. Just as you like it.
> You now sit on the edge of your bed. It is almost 9 o'clock, and your shirt, and jeans are thrown on the ground.
> After you flew home from the training grounds, you did some work on your plane. You had fixed the flap, turns out the cable was a bit damaged.
> Shit's always breaking on that thing.
> You and Spits had made plans to go out to lunch two days from now, on Saturday.
> A question still lingers in your mind.
" Why'd she want to go out today? " you ask the wall in front of you.
> It'd been just a week since you got the promotion to Lieutenant.
> She probably just wanted to know you better.
> To trust you.
> The Wonderbolts were, contrary to popular belief, a military unit.
> She wants to bond with her wingman, just like you had to bond with your weapons officer in the Navy.
> Though you never could really trust him. He was usually goofing off or sucking up to the commander.
> Fuckin' Jackson, he only got the position because his dad was a higher up.
> That dickhead never worked for anything.
> Anyway, what were you doing?
> Oh, yeah. Going to sleep. Right. Back to that.
> You hit the pillow with a " fwump " and pull the blanket over you.
> Back to dreams of hanging out with your brother.
> Within minutes of lying down, you are out.
> Like, ten rounds of Mike Tyson out.
There you are, lads.
It's 2am here, man. Almost fell asleep in the fucking bus, hah.
Also, new green when? ;_;
As a note, i might not be able to drawfag for a day, possibly 2. Resigning from fucking studios, even Overmare is tiring me out. I'll still lurk and reply, though <3Sorry about that, folks.
Shiieet, lookin' forward to moar!
DAAAMN, SON, it looks brand new. That's fukkin NOICE.
You're always welcome in this thread m8, drawings or not!
Especially with dubs like those.
>Spitfire just stares at you, slack-jawed.
"I may be an alien from another planet, but on that planet, I was pretty boring, by their standards."
>But you were happy with it.
>"W-well... what did you do for a living? What was your job?"
"Eh, I was pretty much just a desk jockey for my dad."
>"...A 'desk jockey'? What's that?"
"Just some guy who sits at a desk and does work from it. I handled appointments and stuff."
>"...Appointments for what?"
"Therapy sessions. My dad was a psychiatrist."
>"Oh, that's neat! What about your mom?"
"Oh, uh, she just stayed home."
>You can tell by the look in her face that she's just hit a stump.
>She's now got nowhere else to go with the conversation.
"...Sorry, I'm just, ah, not that exciting a person, honestly. Not many exciting things to remember in my life."
>She softly smiles, then puts her hoof on your hand again.
>"Well... We've still got plenty of time to make some exciting memories of our own."
>As much as you'd like to disagree with yourself...
>You like the sound of that.
>-Just, uh, you know, with human women, instead...
>Yeah, can't disagree with THAT.
>You look down at your hand.
>There's been an awful lot of hoof-hand stuff going on tonight, hasn't there?
>-Purely platonic, though.
>It's no big deal.
>You slowly move your hand away and look back to your salad, trying to find the actual salad part of it, buried underneath all that cheese.
>Your devious plan was just to have the waitress suffer through grinding cheese almost indefinitely, but holy shit, she had really mauled that fucking block...
>So you kind of suffered from that.
>You internally shrug and grab a handful of cheese, snacking on it like popcorn, bit by bit.
>bumping a thread on page 3
>shipping your waifu
as inferior as she might be to pinkie piewith anyone else
>believing that braeburn is straight
don't you just want to rub that belly?
To anyone wondering why people here are saying a lot of out-of-context shit, it's because we're talking in a stream, and i happen to basically be the only person, more or less, with a mic. So yeah.
Dont know nips!? whydomenhavenipples? Really? And here I thought he was horse famous...
is this of now hangout thread? or of orangehorse?
of drink?! i of join.
Good night, sweet prince.
I'm almost ready to start on the lineart. Just a few more things I need to fix.
don't know if I have the ability to make a background on this. Also, I don't know if purple is a good color for anon's boxers
god I hate those fucking spanish speaking little shits. they're so fucking disgusting and shitty. they come to america and fucking take all the jobs that honest white people could hold
BUILD A WALL
the triple headed guy here
processor: I7 6700k 4.7ghz
noctua NH-D14 air cooler
ram: 32gb ddr4
gpu: gtx980ti G1 overclocked
3x28in 1080p monitors
speccy a shit on this pc doesnt recognize shit
COME ON, BITCH, I'LL TAKE YOU AND YOUR DOUBLE TRIPS ON!
Okay, I'm done working on this for tonight. I will start the line art tomorrow.
for the one person in the call who asked who "that purple hedgehog" was
this is my first time drawing something like this so I hope it turns out the way I want. And I've barely done any human anatomy before.
hey, mister god drawfag, how do you suggest i get into drawing?
also have this image from the first thread
i'll be streaming again tomorrow
drunk, s alwaysand explaining a super quick run-down of how i do stuff, and the artists who help me draw. So yeah, keep an eye out on the thread tomorrow, i'll post the stream link then.
spitfires are just the best aren't they
dude thats fucking gross fuck off dude
Thanks to the people joining in tonight.
i swear to god b luebird, get some fucking sleep. Now.
I'll set up another stream early tomorrow. See you then!
>Can shoot down ME109s
>barely adequate at shooting down bombers
>Hurricanes eat bombers
>people of Britain not bombed
>Hurricanes eat more bombers than Spitfires eat ME109s
But as the aces who flew them said, Neither would have succeeded without the other. Hurricanes needed spits ot kill 109s, Spits needed Hurris to kill bombers.
So after I got home,I was exhausted. Here's the scene.
Alrighties, feels like the alcohol is finally out of my body
somewhat. So yes, I will have time for another stream tonight I guess. I'll start it in 5-6 hours, something like that.
>Spitfire's words click into your mind.
>She didn't even hesitate when she said that.
>It's like she already knows that you'll fall for her.
>-Well, knows that there's the POSSIBILITY.
>But you're strong.
>You won't give into this.
>No body- or pony, can just force you to like them like that.
>You haven't been interested in ponies, and you sure as hell won't start.
>Your dad, even while being in another world, would surely frown at you for that.
>-Well, not really, actually.
>In fact, your dad would probably defend the shit out of you, even if you told him you got off to tables, or some shit like that.
>...Your dad was a cool guy.
>He made a kid bullying you in your high school cry once by making him question his very existence.
>That shit was awesome.
>Though you never saw him after that day...
>He was a dick.
>Who cares if you like wearing sweaters during the summer?
>Is having sun protection and extra pockets in the heat REALLY that bad a thing?
>In your stupor, you notice Spitfire staring off into space before you.
>You wave your hand.
"Something on your mind?"
>She shakes her head.
>"Not much... besides you."
>She flashes a smile.
"Well it's probably not normal to think about someone that much."
>"It can be whatever you want it to be."
>She bats her eyelashes.
>Why does this one always make things so... lewd?
>And how is she so GOOD at it?
>...You're just thankful it's not doing anything to you- you know... down there.
>The shame would be overwhelming.
>...And probably the confusion.
>Hell, have you thought about being in a relationship with a pony?
>Being the only one on the entire planet kind of forces you to do that, but you still aren't fond of the idea.
>And... you just don't get how... THAT, would work.
>Like, these ponies are three and a half feet on all fours, and you're six feet.
>The height difference would just...
>-And why the hell are you thinking about this?!
>You're not going to DO Spitfire here.
Alright, stream is up! I'll draw requests again if people want it, and the giggling spitfire should get lineart as well!
Yep, clocked in at 41 hours. I've had the worst fucking headache since then.
>Your words bring a small shade of red with them.
>Spitfire's ears fold slightly, and she gives you another sultry grin.
>"Hmm... What are YOU thinking about? Something... fun?"
>You feel your face get even warmer.
"W-what?! N-no! Why would I ever think of something like that?!"
>"Oh, I don't know..."
>She starts brushing your leg again.
>You try to pretend you don't feel it.
>You just start sipping your drink and admiring the scenery around you.
>This place pretty much WAS Applebee's.
>There's all this sports and old school memorabilia stuff hung up everywhere.
>Black and white photos of who you're assuming are famous ponies and griffons.
>Carriage license plates, sports equipment, big, cartoon drawings...
>-And that guy even looks like the ponified version of Walt Disney!
>You feel a hoof on your thigh.
>You look over and see her reaching under the tab-
>You immediately scoot back a little bit.
>"...What? You already got me dinner..."
>She just giggles.
>My god, this pony...
>It's only the first date.
>It just makes you wonder how much the alcohol talking.
>...Though, they don't call it 'liquid courage' for nothing.
>And, as they say, a drunk man's words are a sober man's thoughts.
>-Or, a drunk MARE's thoughts.
>You shake your head and slowly scoot up, eying Spitfire.
>And you get that a distance like this is acceptable for ponies, but how close to her you are is kinda ridiculous.
>Or simply put, if two humans were here, you'd be fighting for leg room under the table.
>It's just not a big table for you.
>But since Spitfire's legs don't even work in a way to interfere with yours, you've got the whole bottom part to yourself.
>Which is probably why she's taking advantage of it so much.
>You're practically doing this to yourself.
>It's like driving into a black neighborhood with a BMW.
>Something can, and probably will happen.
If Paperdrawfriend wants to do a pirate anon, i'll make a pirate spidya and digitalize that shit.
Fuck you, DF, I'm no weeb. And I do what I want, even if that means giving myself brain damage.
>You look down at your salad.
>You still haven't even gotten past the cheese.
>You've reduced it to a small mound, but it's still enough to cover all the salad.
>You sigh, then just grab as much as the stuff as you can.
>You drop it onto a napkin, then just stare at the salad.
>It's looks like there's a lot more of it now than there was, before.
>All that damn cheese has gotten you pretty full...
>But you paid for this shit.
>And you know that if you throw this in your fridge, you won't eat it.
>It cools stuff down, but it also makes it weirdly unappetizing.
>Your dad told you it was another psychological thing.
>-In fact, he told you that a lot.
>He even told you that the position of your couch was a psychological thing.
>And you always believed the hell out of him of everything, just because of the degree he had.
>Though looking back at it, now, some things might not have been entirely true.
>You just don't get how cleaning the house 'decreased your chances of getting Alzheimer's'.
>Hell, you didn't even KNOW what Alzheimer's was at the time.
>You look up at Spitfire, who's tapping her hooves together, looking off to the side with a nervous smile on her face.
>"D-do you, uh, need help finishing your salad?"
>Who asks if someone needs 'help' finishing something?
>If you're hungry, you just say, 'you gonna eat that?'.
>"-B-because, y-you know, if you want... we could share that..."
>Well that makes a lot more sense, n-
>"Just, y-you know, if you want to..."
>You really don't want to see this salad go to waste...
"J-just this once."
>She beams and flies over into your lap, getting comfy on your chest.
>She just looks up at you and smiles.
"-Uh... w-what are you doing?"
>"Well, aren't we gonna share?"
Aaand stream should be good again;
>>She beams and flies over into your lap, getting comfy on your chest.
>>She just looks up at you and smiles.
>"-Uh... w-what are you doing?"
>>"Well, aren't we gonna share?"
Jesus christ dude, my heart fucking exploded
Right, here's a plain stream without guest talk. Just type in the join.me link.
>everyone wanting a picarto
lemme set one up then.
lol pretty sure i just got booted from stram for asking how to make the sound work
but seriously is there supposed to be sound on the stream? i couldn't hear anything
>Hey, look at ME! I'M the person who sucks dick and ruins shit!
>'Hey, I'm the cocksucker! Can you do shit for me?'
Fuck you Lyndon, this is why grills should STAY off the internet.
>actually getting mad
I honestly found it pretty funny.
No drawfag, don't encourage her!
I know, that sucks for me too. But hey ho, i'll stick with picarto from here on out.
Jesus DF, just use fucking Pandora for music. Also,
"There's no art of pirate Spitfire."
"Yeah, but, I didn't mean we'd share a chair-"
>"-Too late, I'm already here! Now feed me!"
>"I can't eat with forks, Anon!"
>And you were just about to ask yourself why Spitfire seemed so caring of what you wanted right now.
"But didn't you just eat your salad with your mouth?"
>"Yeah, but then how would we share it?"
>You open your mouth to speak, then pause.
>Well, that's kinda true.
>That would be weird.
>And you'd probably get pony spit all over the salad.
>And you don't want that.
>You sigh and pick up your fork.
>She squeaks and beams in response.
>You get some of the salad and just bring it up to her.
>She snaps at it like a turtle and smiles.
>You scoot a little bit closer.
"Couldn't you just bring your chair-"
>"-Too LATE, Anon! I'm not moving!"
"-Well, I could probably-"
>You pause, then sigh.
>You stab some more lettuce with your fork and bring it up to her.
>This time, she doesn't snap at it.
>Her tongue swirls around the fork, brushing and polishing the base and its handle.
>She holds it still with both of her hooves, then rolls over the prongs very slowly.
>She keeps it in her mouth and starts gently sucking on it, before pulling slightly away and taking it back in.
>Then she starts making these wet, sloppy noises while doing so.
>She takes up a faster pace and covers the whole thing in saliva, which just drips and slides off your slacks.
>She looks into your eyes.
>Her eyelids partially close, and she slows the speed of her mouth.
>She moves her rump to sit just above Anon Jr.
>Finally, she gives a soft, long moan, and does a stroking motion over the fork handle with her hooves.
>She pulls away and continues staring at you, then swallows.
>You just stare at her.
"...What the hell was that?"
i can't wait, this is some top notch green
Heh, i'm glad it can be to some use, then.
Make sure to get a lot of sleep, and may you dream of many pones tonight.
I love how completely fucking deadpan anon is. He's not having any of that shit.
I'd also say that for any scene without basis, this would seem just incredibly slutty. But, with the reference of how she acted last night, it's actually kind of sad. She's desperate for affection.
> You are Lieutenant Ano N. Ymous, member of the famous Wonderbolts.
> Wingman of Captain Spitfire.
> It's been a month since you first went to lunch with Spits.
> Now, it was pretty much daily routine for you two.
> Normally, you'd talk about practice, or your time in the Navy.
> Today, though, was different.
> " They just attacked? No declaration of war or anything? "
> She brought up the subject of wars, and you mention old Dubya dubya tuh
" Pretty much. Most Americans were against joining in the war, but it all changed when they attacked, anyway, whens the next show? Liberty's been in the hanger for too long now. "
> Your grandfather, Inco G. Neeto fought in the war. When you were young, he told you stories about life in the Navy.
> " Oh, uh... next week we're flying out to Manehatten for a show, so make sure you do your tests and all that. "
> Manehatten. There's a city you hated.
> It always had rogue clouds that fucked with the show somehow.
> " I know you hate it, but the weather team's gonna be working extra to make sure the sky is clear. FOr real, this time. "
> You still remember the first time you went there.
> It was only your third show, and a stray cloud went right into your flight path.
> That was the day you found out that clouds here didn't agree with your aircraft's engine.
" I hope so, or else they'll be paying to build me a new engine again. Do you know how hard it was to get a pony to build something that doesn't even exist here? "
> Manehatten had cost you nearly a thousand bits. A fortune for a rookie in the Wonderbolts.
> Luckily, Spits helped pay for some of it, and the city payed for some more.
> " Yeah, I know. Took almost two months, even with you helping them. "
> Damn good thing Dad taught you some things about engines.
> " Oh my gosh, that's them! Mom, get the camera! "
> Ah fuck, more rabid fans.
> You and Spits nod at eachother and are on your way.
> " I'll put it on your next bill, Ano! "
> Joe was always nice like that. He'd cover for you if there were fans mobbing you.
> Looking over to the mare who caught you, it's safe to say you could slip out before she got back.
> After exiting the building, Spitfire flies to you and lands, walking with you.
> " Ugh, ponyville, right? "
> You simply nod and smile.
" See why I don't get out much? "
> She huffs and turns her head to you.
> " Yeah, same here. I'll catch you next week alright? "
> You two hoofbump and go your separate ways.
small update for now
>both the autistic mark of the clover and the crappy oc
If only it was a solo pic, this guy's drawing abilities is actually good.
And I have an idea for a adventurefic with Spitfiya and Anon that I got the idea to do about a year ago in a Spitfire thread, if I get time I may actuallt write it.
you really arnt. we mostly just chill while Drawfag draws. not really talking about anything in particular. sometimes about writing and drawing in general but mostly just chillin.
I didn't have as much time to draw tonight as I would have liked but I did manage to get some stuff done.
I suck at making smooth lines, I'm gonna have to re-do her body tomorrow.
Welp, here's the finished drawing from the stream.
Yep, that the stream was pretty boring today, it's more fun in Google hangouts. I'll make sure to make a hangout tomorrow where we can hang out
snort snortand goof around again. Picarto rapes the fuck out of my internet too.
I can barely draw a person let alone a human face. Probably going to just go with a question mark.
Works for me, its always goofy when anon has too many details
What are you talking about? I got PLENTY of sleep!
Page 7 not allowed
You need this more than I do, RIP Blu
why the fuck do i even bother drawing, jesus christ.
Stop being a whiny fag and embrace the talent you have. People wouldn't like your stuff if it wouldn't be good.
Buck you DF! We like your drawings! :D
And you should seek out the nearest oil fire and apply generous amounts of the burning oil on your skin.
Heh, still not as good as your storytelling, man.
Alright, here's a Hangout:
- Hopefully without any Soundboardfagging this time.