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Spitfire Thread 2.2
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You are currently reading a thread in /mlp/ - My Little Pony

Thread replies: 501
Thread images: 163
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Here's to a new thread for our favorite wonderbolt, and pony.

>Current writefags:

Soviet Toaster

>Current drawfags:
first for /balt/
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Forgot - This is the "No more drawings until Bluebird has gotten a proper nights sleep"-edition.
the updated paste with everything so far
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nice numbers
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>"Is that you, John Wayne? Is this me?"
>'..Who said that?'
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where is bluebirdd?
good, he needs the energy to write
implying he sleeps

Thinks he's gone into hibernation
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off to bed bumb
>tfw don't want to wake up
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>tfw don't want to wake up
RIP thread
Don't worry anon, i'll continue if bluebird CAN'T WAKE UP ;_;
We being raided or something? I'm seeing a lot of shitposting threads on page 1 and actual threads being knocked off the board.
Probably another anon desperate for attention, like the fucking Nyx faggot.
Is bluebird officialy dead?
Wakey wakey Bluebird! Time to get back to writing for us!

Not that we wish to imply you have been sleeping on the job. No one is more deserving of a rest, and all the effort in the world would have gone to waste until -- well, let's just say your hour has come again.
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this is bluebird. and he is sleepy.

he can only wake up if you type "wakey wakey Bluebird" in this thread.
wakey wakey bluebird
wakey wakey Bluebird

besides,anybody got any good spitfire stories?
>...You're not really even sure how to really respond to what just happened.
>She just...
>Damn, you just hope nobody else saw that.
>You're pretty sure that was lewd enough to justify you both getting kicked out.
>You look at your fork, covered in slobber and violated to the nth degree.
>-Fuck this, you'll use your hands.
>You put the fork down and grab a small piece of lettuce.
>Spitfire just watches you curiously as you eat it.
>"Y-you aren't going to use the fork, Anon?"
>You look down at the thing, just lying in a puddle of spit on the table.
"I'd rather not, honestly."
>She pouts.
"-You know, pouting or not, there's a certain line that my very BEING would not allow me to cross."
>You point at the fork.
"And I'm pretty sure that thing is like, thirty times over it."
>She huffs and crosses her hooves.
"And, you're still sitting ON me. Lap is okay, but this I'm not a fan of."
>"Why not?"
>She does a circular motion with her rump on you.
>She basically just grinded you.
"-Because it's only the first time we've been out, and you're also horribly drunk."
>She hiccups and giggles.
"Case and point."
>"Oh come ooonnn, Anon! I'm not THAT drunk."
>You move yourself to the side and gently push her with your finger.
>She immediately starts losing her balance, and you grab her before she falls.
>She just scrunches at you.
>You sigh.
"Just, jeez Spitfire, at this point, I've seen you drunk longer than I've seen you sober..."
>She stays silent.
>You look at her.
>She suddenly looks... sad.
>You wave a hand in front of her face.
"Something on your mind?"
>She pauses, then looks at you.
>Her eyes trail over to the floor, and she nods.
>"...I'm not a very exciting pony, either, Anon."
>She moves to sit on your lap and just sighs.
>"I mean, I have the Wonderbolts, but when I'm not working, I'm just... there. Nothing to do, nowhere to be..."
>She drifts off.
>You just stay silent.
>What she's saying is essentially what you went through back home.
>The times your dad's buddies couldn't head to Applebee's, you'd always just, busy yourself with mindless paperwork.
>You'd do anything you could find- taxes, schedules, business plans...
>Simply because you didn't want others to see that you had no place to be.
>Though, you're pretty sure your dad saw right through you on that one.
>He just never directly approached you about it.
>-Hell, one day he had even caught you up and working at three in the morning, because he had forgotten something in his office.
>To say that he was shocked would probably be an understatement.
>But in short, you just did what you did, because...
>You look at her.
>...You were lonely...
>"-I... I just thought that by being drunk, that m-maybe I'd be a more interesting pony to be around, a-and that you'd l-like me..."
>You can see her quickly starting to tear up.
"-Spitfire, you don't need to be drunk to be interesting. You're fine just the way you are, now."
>She just looks up at you.
>"...R-really? Y-you think so?"
>You simply nod.
>A small smile touches her lips.
>"I... I know it sounds stupid... but that really means a lot to me, Anon..."
>She hiccups.
"Well, if you remember it, that is."
>She giggles, then looks over at your salad.
>"Sooo... Are we going to finish that?"
"...I'm still not using that fork, though."
Awww she's so cute and lonely. How can anon resist her cuteness? I give it two days tops before they bang
>You grab another piece of lettuce and a tomato, then start munching away.
>You also clean the shit out of the fork and then use it to feed her.
>You both ate mostly in silence.
>But it wasn't an awkward silence.
>It was just one where you both had nothing left to say, and were both content with what you did say.
>It was nice.
>-In fact, you almost forgot where you even were, until you spotted that damn waitress on her way towards the table.
"-SHIT! Spitfire, go back to your se-"
>"-Well now, THIS is an INTERESTING development."
>She clicks her tongue and smiles at Spitfire, then looks at you.
"-H-her seat was, uh, crooked..."
>She looks at Spitfire's seat for a second, then just nods.
>"Yep, yep, I'm sure it was."
>She walks over and grabs both of the plates, that damn grin on her face the whole time.
>"So, you having any dessert? A sundae with two spoons, perhaps?"
>She waggles her eyebrows at you for the last part, then hands a menu over.
>You snatch it, and she just laughs.
>"I'll give you both a minute to look it over."
>She grins at you.
>"And TRY to look at the MENU this time, and not just each other?"
"-Oh my god, we weren't-"
>"-Juuust saying."
>She walks away.
>Goddamn it.
>You see Spitfire already browsing the dessert menu.
>And, honestly, dessert sounds pretty good right now, despite all the damn cheese you ate earlier.
>But there's ALWAYS room for dessert.
>You glance at the menu and-
>-Holy shit, this really IS Griffon Applebee's.
>You remember that menu more than your do your own parent's faces.
>And that's pretty sad, in more ways than one.
>You watch her curiously.
>This is the biggest test, if any.
>The one that will decide her very own fate.
>-Well, not really, obviously, but dessert is pretty damn important, if you do say so yourself.
>She finally points at the menu.
>You look over-
>Apples and brownies are good, but nothing will EVER best the triple chocolate cake.
>more green
And back to drawing i go.
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Tell me where you want to touch Spitfire!
I love the griffon waitress.
For the record, though I'm passed out in front of my computer, or struggling to find coffee around my house most of the time, I've literally only given attention to this thread. Every single one I've followed has moved on to another thread, sorry AiPP, SP threads, and this is the first damn time I've ever been so behind. So you better enjoy this green, damnit.

>She looks at you for approval, and you just grin like a retard.
"You have EXCELLENT taste in desserts, madame!"
>She smiles.
>Now, for a big question, though...
>Should you actually get just one?
>Because you know that they usually serve you quite a bit per plate.
>You mull over the idea for a moment.
"Hey Spitfire?"
>She looks up at you.
"Would you prefer your own plate? O-or..."
>She slowly smiles.
"W-would, you, uh... you know..."
>Jesus, why the hell is this so hard to ask?
>It's just sharing a damn plate.
>Your cheeks are burning.
"-Would you like to... ah..."
>She stops you, then beams.
>"I'd like nothing more, Anon."
>You feel yourself copying her smile, then stop.
"O-okay, good! J-just, you know, 'cause it'd cost less... you know?"
>She nods.
>You ONLY asked about getting one plate, instead of two!
>-Shit, it's like your mind is on the fritz or something!
>You grab your drink and put it on your cheek.
>Aside from being really cold, it doesn't do much to make your face any less red.
>"What are you doing, Anon?"
>You look and just see Spitfire watching you curiously.
"Uh... I'm checking the temperature..."
>-Well, you kind of are.
>But you've long since determined that the glass in your hand is, indeed, very cold.
>You reach over and take a sip.
>-And horribly watered down.
>You need a new drink, now.
>This shit won't do.
>Spitfire just keeps watching, amused.
>Like she's looking at some kind of monkey doing tricks for her.
>Damn cheeks.
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Finished the sketch from yesterday's stream.

NSFW version here:

>this much insecurity from them
Heart attack in 3, 2, 1.. keep going
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Seriously man, haven't you gotten a proper, dunno, 6+ hour sleep yet? If not, i think we'd all rather have you go sleep NOW than you passing out and not being able to write. I certainly won't be able to draw, knowing that you're straining yourself, man.
Aye, worry not! I HAD to sleep last night anyways. Though I couldn't STAY asleep.
Why do you sleep so little? Something bothering you or do you just want to slowly destroy yourself?
I'm gonna be setting off a day today and tomorrow to get my assignments finished, then i'll get back to drawing here. Already got a few ideas i want to try out.
Aye, this is 4Chan, not my blog update!

But sleeping also wastes a lotta damn time, in my opinion. Even if you stay up 24 hours, you still only need around 8, like anyone sleeping regularly would.

It's not that I DON'T sleep, but that I just stay up more.
I have no waifu, so there's no one to betray. :-)
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You sick fuck.
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Loss will never be not funny.
We are eternally grateful.
>>26026017 (OP)
I want to sneak into Spitfire's house, ambush her as she comes home, tie her up, and rub her belly until she falls asleep in my arms.
I saw that.
Yeah, I fucked up and left an extra word in there.
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Hey it's ok buddy I add extra words and forget about them for 20 minutes all the time
So, there /is/ something bothering you? :'(
I need this in my life

Also please forgive me but
Holy shit i want this.
Whelp, what was going to be dinner ended up being a breakfast feast for myself.
Anyways, this'll PROBABLY be the last post for today.
Unless I stay up for an extra 9 hours.

>You flag down another Griffon.
>"Yes, uh, may I help you?"
>You wave the drink around a bit.
"Think I could get another? This one got flat."
>"Absolutely, sir."
>He grabs your glass and starts walking away.
>Then he pauses, and turns to you.
>"...May I ask you something?"
"Uuuh... suuure?"
>"-What in the SWEET name of King Grover ARE you?"
"...I'm a human."
>"A what?"
"A human. I'm from another planet, actually."
>He just blinks for a second, then walks away.
>Well, that was fucking weird.
>But then, you finally notice all the eyes that are on you.
>Practically everyone in the entire restaurant is glancing and gesturing towards you.
>But you're not exactly sure if it's YOU, or Spitfire being ON you.
>And you're not a fan of it.
>You're used to just, hanging back in the crowd, pretty much solving your loneliness by isolating yourself further.
>...And now that you think about it, that may have exactly been why you were lonely in the first place.
>Like fighting fire with gasoline.
>-But the looks you're getting are not pleasant.
>Ponies you'd be able to deal with- because you have plenty times before- but Griffons are a whole new level.
>They're pretty much eagle-lions.
>-Actually, they ARE eagle-lions.
>And though absolutely none of the stares you're getting are hostile, you can't help but feel vulnerable as shit.
"-Uh, S-Spitfire, d-do you think you could head back to your s-seat?"
>She looks up at you, genuinely concerned.
>"What? Why?"
"I-I just think it'd be b-better."
>She notices your eyes darting around and notices all the Griffons.
>"Oh pft, Anon, they're just Griffons! You can't really let a bunch of cat-birds scare you!"
"N-no, I-I just think-"
>Before you can say anything else, she pulls you in for a kiss.
>On the lips.
>In public.
Jesus Christ himself returns to bestow us with a gift of more green
Someone once posted one that had her face on it, with her name on the top half. So, when you popped it open and lit up she'd literally have a fire mane.
Warning, 2lewd4you
Dat anatomical breast
Much lewd, very wow
The right man in the wrong place can make all the difference in the world.
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>Before you can say anything else, she pulls you in for a kiss.
>On the lips.
>In public.
Oh shit son
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Page 8? Bamp!
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Shouldn't you be freeing oil from those dirty insurgent hands?
Thanks family <3
No... Maybe... I need more resupply points
No problem bb
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Early bump
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>autism clover
This tBh
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Page 8 bump
german bump
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Go free me some oil son. Make your family proud.
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Something that might interest you.

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saw that one some time ago.still cute

i edited this and made it SFW.also took care of the watermark at the top.not my best but...enjoy
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page 9 bump
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Is there any other Spitfire pic of this? No offense, but it looks like the drawer made it in ms paint, especially on how weird her facial expression is in the fourth panel
It was on page eight you fucking liar!
it was page 9 [email protected], I can confirm
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Thanks for reminding me of another thread I killed.
You finished one story for this thread and lost interest in the other you started writed for it. So what? That's not a big deal.
Cheer up, mate.
he has returned to us
People will fight, and kill, for what they believe!
Not for money, not for oil!
>You don't even say or do anything.
>Your brain doesn't even work.
>But in the little signals it's giving out, it's telling you that this has happened before.
>You're stiff as a rock.
>You don't move.
>You don't say anything.
>You don't even close your eyes.
>You're just hoping that by staying completely still, you'll disappear.
>Her tongue is just all up in your mouth, like an unwanted guest that thinks they own the place.
>But this time around, that guest has a bag full of fucking fire crackers, and just unleashed them in the bedrooms of everyone there at three in the morning.
>She runs out of air and just breathes heavily into you.
>It's like she's trying to eat your face.
>A few seconds later, she pulls away, panting and tongue hanging, her face developing an entirely new shade of red.
>You just sit there, shocked out of your mind.
>You don't even blink.
>You notice practically all the Griffons starting to smile.
>Like, the kinda smiles people would have if they just saw someone proposing-
"-I-I need t-to go to the b-bathroom!"
>"W-what? Why? What's wrong?"
"N-n-nothing, I-I just need to go!"
>You spring up from her seat, and she hops off.
>You fuck off and run towards the area you believe the bathroom is.
>You jump inside.
>You head over to the sink and splash your face with water.
>-What the fuck just happened?
>That- what WAS that?
>She just...
>You touch your lips and just stare at your reflection.
>She just...
>But she's...
>You notice an unusually warm feeling in your... everything.
>You... you can't SERIOUSLY be considering...
>-She's a pony, for crying out loud!
>The ones that are taken to kids birthdays to be petted and ridden!
>Christ, what's HAPPENING to you?!
>You sigh and stare at yourself.
>Okay, she's a pony.
>...An animal.
>...But not here.
>Here, she's just as smart- if not smarter, than a human.
>But, still, the hooves, a-and...
>You sigh and splash your face again.
>You're in a COMPLETELY different world, now...
>And in this world, Spitfire's not an animal-
>-Well technically, even HUMANS are animals-
>-NOT the point!
>You splash more water on your face.
>Okay, let's backtrack, here.
>Do you like her?
>You pause and think back at the short time you've been with her.
>How you felt today when you saw her in that dress...
>That adorable giggle of hers...
>Her cute smile...
>You feel something weird in your stomach.
>...Yeah, more like hornets.
>Like you left what was originally a bunch of butterflies alone, and some Gremlins shit happened, and they became hornets, instead.
>...But it still feels great.
>...Maybe... maybe the waitress was onto something...
>-Even though she's a nigger.
>-But, the sharing food, the sharing a SEAT- hell, just the fact that you're on a DATE-
>...That Spitfire forced you on...
>...But you can't hide how excited you felt for it.
>You were practically counting the seconds.
>You splash your face a fourth time.
>-Okay, do you like Spitfire?
>Do you...
>...Do you LOVE her?
>That's a strong word.
>But she makes you happy.
>Makes you smile.
>Makes you FEEL whatever she does, at the moment.
>-Except when you're drunk.
>You basically go all robot mode when THAT happens-
>-Not the point.
>...Could you wake up every morning to see her face?
>Her beautiful, smiling face...
>Her messy, fiery mane bathing in the glow of the morning sunlight...
>Your heart quickens.
>Yes, you could.
>So... you guess...
>...Love her.
>You love Spitfire.
>Your whole body relaxes in an instant.
>Like it was all on edge about something.
>Like you got something huge off your chest.
>And you now made way for somethi-someone-somePONY else...
>You smile.
>You look at yourself in the mirror.
>This is the happiest you've ever seen yourself.
>And before this, that was the day you went to the San Diego Zoo.
>And THAT was also before you got attacked by that fucking giraffe.
>Those long necked bastards...
>You take a deep breath and beam.
>You can't help but just feel...
>You splash your face again and straighten yourself out.
>You take a few breaths, then hop outside of the bathroom.
>You got this, Anon.
>You laugh at your own excitement.
>You feel like you can laugh off the entire end of the world.
>As long as Spitfire's with you...
>You're untouchable.
>-Unless you're surrounded by black people.
>You laugh again.
>You walk back out, and-
>-Where's Spitfire?
>You notice all the Griffons now giving you dirty looks.
>More specifically, all the girls.
>But the guys are just the same.
>You see the waitress there, picking up Spitfire's glass.
>You run up to her.
>She turns and just glares at you.
>"-I was only messing with you. You didn't need to break the girls heart for it."
>"So, did you still want dessert? A single serve anything? Because that's what you'll be getting for the rest of your life, buddy."
"I-I don't understand. What happened? Where's Spitfire?"
>She growls.
>"Oh, so you DIDN'T hear her crying uncontrollably just now? Because she did that for quite a bit."
"N-no, I-I-"
>"-She wouldn't listen to any of us. She was just, crying her eyes out because of you, and you know-"
>She grabs you and puts a talon on your chest.
>"-If I wasn't working right now, I'd have half the mind to knock you out where you stand."
"-D-did she leave?"
>"-'Course she left! Who in their right MIND would wanna stay around here for a scumbag like YOU?"
>You simply dig into your pocket and grab a bag of fifty bits.
>You toss them on the table and run out towards the entrance.
>You practically take the damn door down and immediately look around.
>There's no sign of her.
>You run out into the street and cup your hands.
>...Why did you even bother calling?
>She wouldn't just come out and say hi.
>...She wouldn't...
>You look up at the sky.
>Immediately, a yellow streak darts through the sky and quickly disappears.
>A single small raincloud is left behind, slowly drifting away in the now dark night sky.
>You take a quick look back at the restaurant, then put your hands in your pockets and begin walking back towards the direction of your house.

>You're horribly lost.
>You have no idea where you are.
>But you don't care.
>You're pretty sure it's midnight, right now.
>You spent a good two hours mindlessly walking around, thinking about how much you messed up.
>You thought about what you had told Soarin' yesterday.
>About only looking at the bright side of things about the ones you've lost.
>...But you can't.
>You can't help but think of how great you had it, then how quickly you made it all come crashing down.
>You start kicking a rock around.
>YOU ruined it.
>Spitfire poured her heart out to you, took a daring leap forward, and you just walked away.
>It's YOUR fault.
>...This is why you're glad you spent so many days doing paperwork.
>You aren't cut out for this.
>Your loneliness will extend, even throughout different universes.
>You look around at your surroundings.
>Nothing but houses, in a neighborhood you don't even recognize.
>But you do notice something familiar, a little ways from you.
>The Ponyville Bar.
>You mindlessly start walking towards it, doing nothing to keep yourself warm in the freezing night temperature.
>You take your tie off and throw it into your pocket, then walk into the place.
>It's completely empty, save for Cherry Berry, who's cleaning the bar with a rag.
>"Anon? What are you doing here so late? We close in five minutes..."
>You sit in a stool and grab the last of your bits.
>You put it on the counter.
"This is fifty bits. Give me the strongest anything you have."
>She just looks at you with a concerned expression on her face.
>"...Is something wrong, Anon? You know you can talk to me, if you wan-"
"-Could I just have the drink, please?"
>She pauses, then slowly nods.
>She pokes under the bar and bites the neck of a big, unopened bottle filled with an orange liquid.
>She slowly sets it down on the counter, then just looks at you.
>"I-it's not as strong as the one you had yesterday, but-"
>You push the bits closer to her.
>"B-but Anon, this was only thirty five bits-"
>You grab the bottle and put the bits on her hoof.
>"A-Anon, wait-"
>You leave the bar.

Alright, well, sorry for the weird post cuts. But anyways, I'll probably call it a day here. I know it's early, and it's the weekend, but, well, I dunno what to say. So, 'night.
Good night, mate. Was good as always. See ya.
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Get back to work before I ship you off to fight for oil
Anon shoots up ponyville! https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8PSJyEnghXQ
Good goy
>Good night
Well, I ain't sleeping, but thanks.
Tomorrow again. I'm just don't feel motivated right now.
Something eating you up?
Always is.
Do tell
I will be listening
Everyone needs a place to vent
I've already done enough of it. It'd just waste posts at this point.

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>Current writefags

>Soviet Toaster
keep going you nigger! Don't leave me with these feels! I'm drunk and i need to see happy things right now.
That being said, to be fair Spitfire kind of shanghai'd an uninterested Anon into a date and got upset when he didn't kiss the makeouts.
some of you are alright. don't go to Ponyville Schoolhouse tomorrow.
Thread needs less Page 7

amazing. I can't wait until the next part.
Aw fuck, these feels. Holy shit.
So Anon gets up in a rush and runs to the bathroom. Spitfire in her drunken state has some kind of emotion breakdown and leaves. Anon exits the bathroom, knowing not what just transpired, and is branded the bad guy by the waitress and everyone else.

I don't understand, am I missing something here?
No, you know what your're talking about. Anon isn't in the wrong, and he isn't "scum".

Kudos to the author, for reals. I love this green so far. Keep going please?
>flying drunk
I guess she's sad enough to be able to control her flying.
Well Anon, still not on board with the idea of being with a pony, fled to the bathroom like a 'lil bitch, and she pretty much saw it as him just horribly rejecting her.

And I would see this pretty much as driving or walking, and as long as she's not drunk enough to black out, she can fly.

Plus, the dizzitron's a thing. I'm sure the Wonderbolts all know how to do that stuff pretty well, especially if they drink after shows. It's just avoided, if possible.
hey hey hey.

Some random perosn comes onto you after declaring that you're their like lost soulmate? And you know them for like 15 hours? Bitch, you'd be flipping your shit too. Don't act like you wouldn't/\.
Say you got put in an anime world.
Youre >no hooves person
And some chick comes up to you saying you're their lost soulmate.
Then forcibly sets up a date the next day.
Or was it 6 hours?
Said chick gets all drunk and emotional at the date
Then kisses you.
What do?
Go to the bathroom and wash face to clear mind?
just fleshing out >>26046073
But no one else in the establishment knew about that. Honestly, if I saw a guy running to the bathroom, I'd assume he was about to shit his pants.
I'm sure Spitfire knew how Anon felt about human pony relationships, but man did she jump to conclusions.
yeah, but anon already got kissed by her once, and even admitted that he liked the hell out of it.

by the stuff that's in the bathroom part, I'd think he just didn't know how to to deal with all these emotions and shit, and is how he finally came to terms with it.
and it was said that all the griffons were looking at them both from the start, and pretty much saw everything
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>this whole discussion
Fucking christ. Rule of thumb, people's reactions differ, especially when they're in shock. How he reacted is how i reacted in a pretty similar situation. I ran the fuck off too, and i wish i hadn't. How Blue wrote the whole segment is pretty much exactly how i and a majority of people would've reacted, and how i almost did react when it happened a few years back.
>people's reactions differ, especially when they're in shock.
And I totally understand that, the thing I don't like about this whole scenario is how the griffons reacted. The waitress even stated she would knock him out if she wasn't currently working. Those nosy bastards might have watched both of them like hawks, but that doesn't mean they had all the pieces of the puzzle to automatically assume Anon is a jerk.

Don't get me wrong, I love the green that Bluebird has created for us and hope he produces more. I just needed to get how I felt about this particular scene off my chest.
I feel the same way about that scene, but I think that was the feeling Bluebird was going for.
The griffons don't know the whole story, and when they assume Anon's a big jerk it increases the tension (Ya know, "the whole world is against you" kinda deal).
>>You're stiff as a rock.
For this one scene to raise this much discussion, I believe you are correct.
Fuuuck I have an idea that I may want to draw for the scene where Spitfire is sitting at the booth after anon runs to the bathroom. But it's 4:30am.
>"Why on earth are you drawing at 4 in the morning?"
"Because I've lost control of my life."
I've been there before.Sometimes inspiration strikes at the strangest moments. Other times it disappears for days at a time. I hope it comes back...
And how is this a problem?
i thought this was usual for artists
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>You remember your way from the bar.
>The second you step out the door, you open the bottle and start heading towards your house.
>You feel like some kind of homeless person, carrying around a drink wrapped in a brown bag.
>But nobody's really awake right now.
>You take a swig from the drink.
>And of course, there's a very little burn to it.
>But it's there.
>You spot your house in the distance and just take another big gulp.
>Your house looks just as boring as everyone else's, if not worse.
>You had actually wanted to paint it a different color or something, but your cash quickly went elsewhere.
>But it was still a great gift.
>Well, it was more like a donation, really.
>But Twilight had gotten some really damn good benefits when she got those wings of hers.
>You walk up to the door and fish around for your keys.
>You miss the lock part and drop them.
"Fuck me."
>And you're not even BUZZED, yet.
>You kneel down to pick up the keys, then retardedly forget that the bottle's open.
>Quite a bit of it pours out.
>You simply groan, then take a long, single gulp.
>When you stop, you actually feel a pretty damn good burn in your throat.
>You get your keys in and unlock that shit, then walk inside.
>Now you notice yourself a little bit buzzed.
>You shut the door and throw the keys on the living room table closest to you.
>You throw your tie on a chair and walk over to the kitchen.
>You notice pretty much about half of the bottle left.
>You take another huge drink and cut that half in half.
>Now, only about a quarter is left.
>You also notice that you are now indeed, drunk, if a little.
>Once you head into the kitchen, you immediately spot a tall, dark red bottle.
>Your imported stuff.
>You take a breath, then finish off the bottle you currently have.
>-Yup, now you're drunk.
>You throw the bottle in the trash and sigh, before grabbing the wine and popping it open.
>It's a little stale- or flat- or whatever the term is, but it's fine.
>You don't really care.
>You don't bother with a glass, and you don't bother trying to limit yourself.
>Your liver hated you back home, and it'll hate you here too, if you have anything to say about it.
>You catch yourself slowly moving to one side, and just grab the bottle.
>You take it over to a couch, and sit down.
>The first thing you see is Spitfire's flight suit, just sitting there.
>There's a pain in your chest that lasts a second, then allows you to continue drinking.
>You read up somewhere that wine was good for the heart, anyways.
>Or some shit like that.
>Who cares?
>You sure as hell don't.
>It could be the damn end of the world right now, but as long as you've got a bottle of SOMETHING with you, you're golden.
>You take another swig and just stare at the wall.
>Funny how quickly things can turn for the worse, huh?
>Like, one minute you're in a humvee, and the next you're being riddled with bullets.
>-Or you're calmly driving towards your house in one, and in the other, you're smashed into by some other guy too stupid to know what a stop sign is.
>You just grunt, then take another big gulp.
>-Jesus, you're getting drunk quick.
>You really ARE a lightweight.
>You're fuckin' weak.
>You lie your head down on a pillow and continue drinking.
>You peel your eyes open and groan.
>You grunt in pain and immediately clutch your head.
>You turn to the side and see an empty bottle, a few drops having escaped on your carpet.
>You don't really give a shit, though.
>White or not, it's just a damn carpet.
>It won't kill you.
>You sit up on the couch, noticing your shoes and coat, which was just carelessly thrown away from you.
>Leaving you with only a button up shirt, slacks, and socks on you.
>You immediately hear a vicious knocking at your door.
>You feel excited for a spit-second, until your mind kicks in.
"Who is it?"
>"Uh, DUUH, it's Rainbow Dash! Hurry up and open the stupid door, already! It's two in the afternoon!"
>You sigh, slowly stand up, then walk over.
lol, and I thought I have sleep problems. You mah boi blu
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oh man. These feels.
Damn, this is depressing. I just want it to get better, please. Well done though writefag you're really good

Seconded, gj writefag.
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>one minute you're in a humvee, and the next you're being riddled with bullets.
Loving the story so far.
you're doing gods work, bluebird
>be me
>almost done with my assignments
"Man, i can finally get back to drawing for the fucking thread, phew."
>fast forward, this morning
>"fix my Teamviewer, disassemble this desktop and put it into this case and also assemble this PC and it needs to be done by friday please"
"Dunno man, i kinda wante-"


> You are, at present, sleeping in the hospital.

> Why? Manehatten's weather team still fucking sucks.

> You and the rest of the Wonderbolts were doing a scheduled air-show when another stray cloud found your flightpath.

> The plane's engine burst in to flames when the cloud hit it, and you bailed out.

> The rest of the plane was completely destroyed.

> Because of your altitude when you bailed, the parachute didn't fully deploy.

> Broke your back, both legs, pelvis, and some ribs.

> Not to metion a pretty decent concussion, too.

> So here you are, sleeping in a hospital room.

> You wake up.

> There's a Spitfire in your face.

> " H-hey. How you feelin'? "

> Motherfucker, how does it look?

> You don't reply, electing to glare daggers at her.

> " That bad, huh? "

> * Knock Knock *

> Ah for fuck sake, you just want to sleep.

> The doctor comes in the room, holding a clipboard with some papers on it.

> " Ah, good. You're awake. I have to say, I'm impressed you got out as intact as you are. "

> Intact? Did he even look at you?

> Not to mention your only reminder of dad was currently a burning pile of metal.

> That's the part that's really killing you.

" Well, can't say the same about my ego. " You chuckle.

> Yeah, he's not amused.

> " I'm serious, Mr. Ymous. Now, I'm afraid to say that if you take another fall like that, it could be fatal. "

> Well, that turned sour quick.

> " But, onto the good news. You should be out by the end of the month. "

> Fuckin' magic, how does that work?

" Thanks for the news, doc. "

> And as quickly as he came, he's gone.

> You look back over to Spits, who is now sitting in a chair in the corner.

> She's shifting around a lot and is avoiding eye contact, clearly uncomfortable.

" You alright? "

> Uh oh. You see tears.

> " I... I just... "

> Brace for impact!

" Ah, fuck! "

> She collides in to your chest, and instantly you cry out in pain from your ribs.

> That really hurt.

> You would have punched her in the snout if you weren't in so much pain right now.

> But the fact that she is now hugging you tightly and sobbing into your chest makes you just want to comfort her.

> Even with all the pain.

> " I-I thought... y-you were g-gone... " she chokes out in-between sobs.

> Fuck, that's incredibly cute.

> Now your heart is gonna explode.

> You just wrap your arms around her and hold her tight.

> 'S gonna be a long day.
>> Broke your back, both legs, pelvis, and some ribs.

Sounds just like death by snu snu
>Then his heart actually explodes.
>The End.

Okay seriously though, this green is TOP. FUCKING. NOTCH.
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I regret to inform you guys that I will no longer be drawfagging for the thread anymore. I've recently been depressed with the fact that I've wasted 19 years of my life as a social outcast, doing nothing but playing computer games and being withdrawn from family members.
And as faggy as it sounds, these threads have inspired me to join the army and go for a option 40. I'm heading to meps friday! It's been a hell of a ride gents!
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Farewell drawfriend.
i feel your pain
Well good luck m8, but if anonymous threads on the internet inspired you, then it'll probably be like getting a tattoo- it'll sound cool until you're actually doing it/have done it.
Good Luck Friend
Are you me? You sound like me.
but even you know what you're going to do with your life
probably going to join the marines tbqh [email protected]
I was thinking about it. But the more I read about how you get your MOS in the Marines, the more it was a turn off. I'd rather not get assigned field radio operator. But I plan on doing the DEP and leaving this thread with a bang. Also, don't tell MEPS shit. LIE LIE LIE.
I was thinking about going for Corpsman, but not sure I can get my ASVAB score to be high enough.
Honestly, the ASVAB isn't that difficult. I took one in High school and at the recruiters office, it was pretty basic shit. I'm planning on trying to qualify with the m249 or M240 for my first enlistment then going to RASP'S on my second. hopefully, Russia or ISIS will Piss us off and we'll goto war.
>tfw grandfather served in the Red Army

He still talks how those days under Stalin and other Soviet leaders were better, because people weren't so degenerate.
It's what happens when you let emotions rule over logic. Societies turned into full pussy mode trying to not offend anyone. Same with the kids who think selling drugs and buying $700 dollar shoes are cool. Eventually, well live in a world where having a gender is wrong.
God speed, anon.
I'm glad you've found something that feels like it will take your life in the right direction, and actually decided to go there. Do your best and make fraaands.

Coincidentally, I'm as drawfag too, and today I thought I would start drawing some hot pegasus for this thread.
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post some hot pegasus please
Aye, try not to get shot!

And do your fellow horsefuckers proud!

Or not. You know, it's your choice.
Army? Should have gone air force
But getting shot is the best part! what, you wanna live for ever? Get the fuck back up and keep shooting!
I though about it. But I'd rather be on the ground with my fellow brothers.
should've joined the Imperial Guard tbH, make the Emperor proud
So even if you got shot in the dick, you'd keep going?
If you got a cushy job in the air force, you'd have plenty of time to drawfag while serving your country. But its good senpai, you'll still have fun. Wish you luck.
>Not having groin armor inserts.
Like I said, Im doing the Delayed Entry Program. So i have until friday to goto meps and then I have almost a year to get shit done until I ship to boot camp. I'll still be around and lurking though.
Actually the DEP is for however long you need. So ill still be here next week, and the week after.
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farewell comrade
Would that armor stop a sniper round down there?
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>You open the door and immediately get blinded by the outside light.
>You shield your eyes and take a step back.
>Dash takes one look at you and cringes.
>"Woah, jeez, what happened to YOU?"
>You look down at yourself.
>You can't see anything out of the ordinary, here.
>But you FEEL out of the ordinary.
>"Well sheesh, how MUCH did you drink??"
>You look back at the bottle on your carpet.
"...A lot."
>"Yeah, I'LL say! Now come on, it's Saturday! You have to see my routines!"
>You rub your face.
>The last time you shaved was probably four days ago.
>But the scruff on your face really seemed to grow from just last night.
>You have no idea why.
>You groan.
"Dash, while normally I'd say yes, I'm hungover to hell, and everything hurts. I'm pretty sure one of your Element buddies can fit some time out of their schedule to see you. I'm sorry."
>You start closing the door, and she stops it with a hoof.
>"Woah, woah! I was planning on doing the Buccaneer Blaze today! You can't just miss something like THAT! And I still need to know about yesterday!"
>You merely shake your head.
"I'm real sorry Dash, but I feel like shit, physically AND mentally. But I'll find some way to make it up to you, I'm sure."
>She takes a moment, then huffs and slowly crosses her hooves.
>You just lazily wave, then close the door.
>Immediately, you feel like shit for blowing her off like that.
>But you'd need some crazy pair of sunglasses or some kind of instant hangover cure in order to even THINK of going outside in this condition.
>You walk back to your glorious couch and plop down on it.
>The second you do, you notice a pair of magenta eyes peeking at you from behind your window.
>She taps on it and gestures you to open it.
>You groan, walk over, and do so.
"Couldn't you have just used the front door?"
>"Are you feeling alright? Sure, I've seen you hungover plenty of times, but you seem a little... off."
>Huh, RAINBOW asking about you?
>That's weird.
"I'm fine."
>"...You sure about that? You don't LOOK fine to me. Something happen?"
>Why in god's name is she suddenly so worried about how you're feeling?
>She didn't seem to give a shit at any OTHER point in the entire four years you've been here.
"No Dash, I'm fine."
>She just hovers before you, crossing her hooves.
>She narrows her eyes.
"...I SAID I'm fine. Now can you just let me rest?"
>She continues staring for a moment, then just slowly nods.
>"Yeah, see you, then."
>You flies off.
>You sigh and shut the window, then head back over to the couch.
>You just sit there for a moment, staring at the red stain on your carpet.
>You take a good few minutes just doing so, mind completely blank.
>Finally, you lie down and shut your eyes.
>Well, it took you a while, but you finally had gone to sleep.
>But what just finished waking you up was a few knocks on your door.
>And you're now in a state where you've slept too much, but your body tells you to sleep MORE.
>It's a weird, horrible feeling, to say the least.
>You instinctively grunt something that sounds like a call you'd hear on Animal Planet.
>"It's, uh, Dash again."
>You look over at the clock hanging on your wall.
>It's only been like, three hours since she came by earlier.
>You groan and turn to sit on your seat.
>You simply hold your head in your hands for a second, then sigh.
>You walk over to the door and open it.
>You get blasted in the fucking face with confetti.
>-Oh sweet Jesus, please don't-
>"HI, ANON!"
>-It's fucking Pinkie Pie.
>And everyone else.
>And by everyone else, you mean all the Elements of Harmony.
>Though you still really don't even know them.
>You did a few adventures and shit when you first came here, but once you got a house, you just decided to sit back and not give a shit.
>Dash just walks past you, and everyone follows.
>Rarity pipes up.
>"I'm terribly sorry if we woke you, Anonymous. Dash has been telling us that you've been rather down today."
"And barging into my house was your solution to that?"
>She awkwardly laughs.
>"Well, it was mostly Pinkie's idea..."
>You just nod.
>You motion inside the house.
"Well, come in and make yourself comfortable. Everyone else seems to be doing so."
>She just forces a smile and walks inside.
>And now you've got six ponies in your house.
>You sigh and close the door, then walk back over to the living room, seeing everyone surveying the place.
>Pinkie's throwing decorations and shit around.
>You hear Dash squeak.
>You look over and see her slightly blushing, looking at you.
>"I-is th-this SPITFIRE'S flight suit?!"
>You feel another sharp pain in your chest.
>And it's quickly replaced with frustration.
"Yes, now put it down."
>You practically growl at her.
>She recoils, but does as she's told.
"So then, what the hell is all of this? why did you bring everyone here?"
>-Jesus Christ, your ears.
"Well, good to know. Except I'm not sad, so this party isn't needed."
>At the exact time, everyone just looks at you, deadpan expressions on all their faces.
>...Goddamn it, are you REALLY that easy to read?
>Flutter... something, flies up to you and puts a hoof on your shoulder.
>"Anon, you don't need to feel threatened- we're your friends, you can tell us anything."
>>"...Well, I'm not your family. You can tell me whatever you want to..."
>You feel another stab at your heart.
>You quickly shake your head.
"I don't HAVE anything to say!"
>Dash just looks at you.
>"When somepony says nothing's wrong, USUALLY there's something wrong."
>You stay silent.
>She doesn't say anything either.
>She just waits for you to say something, and the others just wait for SOMEONE to say something.
>You quickly glance at the flight suit behind her.
>And despite doing so in like, a millisecond, she catches you and looks behind her.
>Something clicks, and her expression softens a bit.
>"...What happened?"
Man, this is hitting my feels in all the wrong places. Please continue.
sweet jesus.i love the way you write
best green I've read tBh
God damn your fuckin good dude. Please write forever until you die
Well at this point, I'd probably spend more time knocked out than I would being dead.
Then just don't be knocked out. Go into xryo like Mr House in Fallout NV, and write forever and ever. That's cool right? You didn't have a life to live or anything
Yeah, but then some faggot mailman would probably come by and kill me in the middle of a paragraph, and that's gay.
Right so if a mailman came to kill you now, you would be able to defend yourself better... no you'd be busy writing anyway
Hell naw, I'd throw my laptop at him.
>You pause for a moment, drifting off a bit.
>You quickly shake your head.
"N-NOTHING happened!"
>"Spitfire? Why, whatever does SHE have to do with our dear Anonymous, here?"
>"They were going on a DATE!"
>"Uh, girls, if that's what it is, I don't think we should be prying. If Anon doesn't want to talk about it, we shouldn't force him."
>You turn to Twilight.
"THANK you."
>"B-but he won't get better if he doesn't talk!"
>"Ah don't know, Ah agree with Twilight on this one. There's just some things that fellas like Anon have to solve by themselves."
>"Well LOOK at him! Does he look like he's solving ANYTHING? He looks like TRASH!"
"-Fuck you-"
>"Ah'm just sayin'. This is a whole 'nother thing than friendship we're talking about."
>"Applejack is right-"
>"-Oh, what do YOU know about relationships, Twilight? You know books don't count, right?"
>"-H-HEY! I-I could get a stallion if I w-wanted to!"
>"Uh huh. I'm just saying that SPITFIRE might need somepony to talk to her, or something!"
>"-We're talkin' about Anon, Sugarcube."
>"-Yeah! That's what I meant!"
>They all continue their conversation, and you slip away from the room and head up to yours.
>You lock the door and rub your eyes.
>Your room is dark as hell, on account of the closed blinds.
>Your eyes adjust, and you simply walk over to your bed and crawl into it.
>You sigh and just close your eyes.
>Then someone knocks on your door.
>"Sugarcube? You in here?"
"Can't you guys just have your party and let me rest?"
>"Well, first off, that party's for you, and second, even if you don't wanna talk about this Spitfire business or whatever, you still need some cheerin' up. We can't just leave you like this."
"Yes you can, actually. It's quite easy-"
>"-Don't play smart with me, Anon."
>She sighs.
>"...Look, Ah'll tell them that you're just thinkin' things over, but if you do need somethin' to let off your chest, we ARE your friends."
>You simply huff.
>"Rest well, Anon."
>You hear her walk away from the door, and find yourself just staring at the ceiling.
>You've never had friends.
>-Not REAL friends, at least.
>You've never had anyone's shoulder to lean on, anyone to always trust...
>You only have acquaintances with similar interests.
>People that just stick around longer than complete strangers.
>That's exactly what your dad's buddies were.
>You just managed to slip into the crowd, well, BECAUSE of your dad.
>He was always the one there to keep you from going overboard on the drinking.
>...You don't even think he liked sports.
>You went for the interaction- the something different to do, and once your dad saw how much you drank, he went every other time to make sure you didn't pass out or do something stupid.
>-Which, you did anyways.
>...It's how you ended up here.
>You look back at that day.
>...Dad had just gotten admitted into the hospital, and his friends all had a get-together to wish him well, talk about him, reminisce.
>That was the first time he hadn't been with you.
>You even remember actually having a good conversation with those guys.
>Because you were his son, you pretty much were the main point of that night.
>...You actually remember feeling somewhat... accepted, because of it.
>It was the first time you felt you belonged in something.
>...Even if it was because of your sick father.
>You got drunk as shit, stayed even after everyone else left, telling everyone you just needed to think.
>Then the place closed, and you didn't ask about any cabs.
>...You remember being on the way to see him.
>How close you were to the hospital.
>...But it obviously wasn't close enough.
>A small shiver crawls down your back, and you just continue staring at the ceiling.
>You start thinking of Dad.
>You can't even conjure up any good memories on the fly, it having been so long.
>But the fact that you remembered his face was enough.
>It reminded you of the good he's done by you, instead of the times he did.
>You feel a familiar pressure in your nose.
>A lump forms in your throat.
>You softy gasp, letting your first tear roll down your cheek.
>You miss your dad.
>Thinking of the good is fine.
>...But you'd rather have your father back.
>And now you regret all the time you didn't spend with him.
>You should have finished and gotten that fucking degree.
>You didn't fulfill your part of the plan.
>He was going to be the psychiatrist, you were going to be the neurologist.
>You were going to work beside each other.
>You were going to have your own office.
>Work right alongside him.
>...You would have been able to help him, when he...
>You turn to your side and stare at the alarm clock on your nightstand, sobbing.
>You could have helped him.
>If you would've kept up with your damn studies, you COULD'VE helped him!!
>You remember what all his friends said.
>>"None of us saw it coming."
>>"There wasn't anything you could've done to prevent it."
>...But there was.
>And you just didn't do it- or anything, to.
>You feel yourself shaking.
>You're crying like a little kid.
>You're sniffling and shakily breathing and just being plain pathetic.
>And really, that's all you are, huh?
>Not even man enough to come to terms with your own feelings.
>-Until it's too late.
>Ruined everything good that came by you, every opportunity you've had to fix things.
>You've been given enough chances.
>-Hell, this place- Equestria, IS a chance?
>And what do you do?
>Drink things off and hide in your home.
>You do exactly what you did back on Earth, but with less paperwork.
>THIS time around, you're just being a lazy sack of shit.
>And you sure as hell don't deserve what you have, here.
>You look up at the window beside you.
>...You need some fucking air, right now.
>These girls can't help you.
>You don't even DESERVE their help.
>You slowly stand up from your bed and wipe your eyes.
>You walk over and pick up your hat.
>Your ONLY hat.
>...Your father's favorite.
>You throw it on your head.
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Woo, I like how I've cut ten minutes off my usual post time. Helps being sad to write sad scenes, amiright?

>You walk over and open your window.
>You feel like some kind of rebellious teenager for this, but you know that the second you go out the door, you'll be bombarded with questions and not left alone.
>And that's exactly what you DON'T want, now.
>You hop out and, despite it being a second story building, land perfectly fine.
>Ponies didn't usually have any reason for high ceilings.
>Though you were still given plenty of room in your home, despite it not even being specially made or anything.
>The distance from the floor to the ceiling was eight feet, if you remember correctly.
>You refocus on the ground before you.
>You believe you remember where the park is from here.
>The sun makes your headache worse.
>And though you got your hat to avoid it, you really didn't give a shit how much it did.
>You walk from the side of your house over to the street and start walking from there.
>As per usual, the ponies there usually don't even look at you, and cringe or gasp when they do.
>You don't even bother to say or do anything about it.
>You're just used to it at this point.
>You'd figure after being here for twenty years though, that they'd just not give a damn, or finally come to terms with you being here.
>But you're pretty sure your presence here has sparked some kind of pony KKK to conspire against you in their basements.
>You sigh, then throw your hands into your pockets.
>You keep your eyes mostly on the ground, but high enough to see where you're going.
>You spot a sign pointing over to the park pretty quickly.
>You take a right and immediately see the park.
>Your house was practically on the edge of the town, furthest away from the Everfree and closer to Sweet Apple Acres.
>That made it a nice place to have a park.
>And the lower number of ponies made sure you weren't going to get stabbed anytime soon.
>Though probably soon enough.
>You continue towards the park.
>You think Ponyville had about five of them in this place.
>This one was the smallest, but it was the most peaceful.
>You simply had a birdbath, some benches, and trees.
>The other ones had these little playgrounds and stuff for the kids.
>-Which is probably why THIS one is so quiet.
>Kids would completely ruin that, if given the chance.
>Out of the three benches there, only one isn't occupied by an elderly couple.
>But it does have this weird blue pony there.
>You know that ponies have some pretty ridiculous colors, but this one is a mess of them.
>Orange stripe, white underside, black hooves, silvery tail.
>Looked like some kind of bird, honestly.
>You sigh and sit down beside her.
>She just continues staring at the birdbath a little ways from you.
>After about a minute, she turns to you.
>"...You don't happen to have a sandwich or something on you, would ya?"
>You softly shake your head, then just turn to stare at the ground.
>She flies away.
>...Did that pony just...?
>You resume your staring, enjoying the soothing sound of birds and rushing water nearby.
>It does wonders to calm you down, but it doesn't help you out, much.
>You relax in your seat then stretch out, crossing your arms while you begin staring at the bird bath.
>...What did you even come out here to think about?
>What IS there to think about?
>You already covered how horrible a person you are, cried a bit-
>-What else is there to cover?
>You sigh.
>You guess it's just nice to be somewhere else, not being surrounded by ponies you barely even know, trying to ask about your personal life and shit.
>You hear hooves slowly approaching you, and turn.
>It's just an old mare.
>"You don't mind if I take a seat beside you, do you?"
>You sigh again, then nod.
>You're not sure what you were expecting to see.
>"Thank you, dearie."
>She walks over and just sits beside you.
>She doesn't even flinch, or freak out, or anything.
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>You guess she's just too old to give a shit, or has seen everything, already.
>So you simply sit in silence.
>She sighs, then stares at the birdbath you are.
>She doesn't move, or talk, or anything.
>She just sits there, watching the birdbath.
>You glance at all the other old couples.
"...If you don't mind me asking, don't you have a husband or something?"
>Despite the shortage of guys in this place, old mares almost always had a husband or some kind of family with them.
>There weren't homes and shit like there were back home.
>She slowly turns to you.
>"Oh, my husband died three years ago."
>You suddenly feel retarded, and guilty.
>Why did you even ask something like that?
>How could you be so insensitive?
>The poor mare is-
>"-Oh, don't fret none, dear. Me and him had plenty of years to enjoy."
>You nod.
"Sorry, though."
>She shakes her head.
>"It's no bother. I like thinking about him."
>You simply nod, then turn back to the birdbath.
>There's another string of silence.
>"...Where's your marefriend? I don't see why a fellow as handsome as yourself would be without one."
>You feel yourself frown.
>Your eyes trail over to the ground.
"Well... I'm not exactly a stallion."
>She shakes her head.
>"That doesn't matter, dear- you're just as proper and well mannered as any stallion I've ever seen."
>You stay silent.
>"And true love doesn't care what you look like- it's what's inside, that counts. When a mare sees past that, it's how you know you've found the one."
>She laughs.
>"Hay, my husband was the ugliest stallion in the whole town when I met him- but it wasn't looks or special talents I was after. It was him- his charming personality, his way with words, the funny noises he'd make when he laughed... That's what made him special."
>You simply nod.
"Yeah, well, my love life's a bit complicated, I guess."
>God, you really DO sound like a teenager.
>She laughs.
>"You young folks wouldn't know complicated unless it came stomping through the town!"
>She continues laughing for a moment, then pats your shoulder with a hoof.
>"Love IS out there, dear. You just have to go out and find it."
>You stay silent.
>She sits back and relaxes again.
>You mull over her words.
>...You think of something.
>...Sweet Jesus, you can't believe you're about to do this.
"...What if... what if you already found love, but something happened before you did anything with it?"
>She pauses, then turns to you.
>"Well unless that love passed away in some crazy accident, you go after them! Troubles are a part of any relationship, even if you're already with the only pony you've ever dreamed of having. If it's true, then you'll be able to overcome anything, no matter how bad it may seem... And when you do overcome them, it makes the bond between you two that much stronger."
>She laughs.
>"There's some good granny wisdom for you- don't spend it all at once!"
>You smile and nod, then continue thinking.
>You give her words plenty of thought.
>You even catch yourself with your fist under your chin in a thoughtful stance.
>You suddenly feel something in yourself.
>Something... burning.
>-And it's thankfully not your heart.
>-You made a joke!
>That's a good sign.
>The feeling just grows stronger and stronger.
>-And you didn't get it by staring at some shitty flowers in some shitty game.
>You feel yourself smiling.
>You turn to the mare and grin.
"Thank you so much."
>You hug her, and she just laughs again.
>"I knew there was a reason you were out here all alone. Now go and git her!"
>You nod, then get the fuck out of the park.
>You start pulling off a Usain Bolt back to your home.
>You can't help but smile like a retard the whole time.
>Your heart swells in excitement, and you suddenly can't even feel your horrible hangover anymore.
>-Though, it HAS been a few hours, so that's probably why.
>But you'd like to think that it's your change of heart, anyways.
>You dart around a corner and quickly remember how out of shape you still are.
>And also how every single pony on the street is just watching you run.
>-Fuck them.
>You're running for YOU-
>-Actually, no, not YOU.
>Just thinking of the name sends a jolt through you.
>There's no heart pain or shit involved in it.
>Your smile grows wider, and you spot your house.
>Thankfully, you don't remember locking the front door.
>You stop in front of it and immediately throw it open.
>Everyone jumps and yelps.
>They were all waiting at the bottom of the stairs, minus Applejack, who was up there, knocking on your door.
>Applejack hops down.
>"Anon? How'd ya get out THERE?"
>"Sheesh, what's gotten YOU so worked up?"
"I'm going to go see Spitfire! Now someone take me to where she lives!"
>Twilight immediately snaps at attention and runs towards the door.
>"I'll call a carriage!"
>She hops out, spreads her wings, then darts off.
>Pinkie beams.
>"I'll start working on an 'Anon is happy now' party!"
>Applejack just walks over to you.
>"So... what's with the sudden change of heart?"
"Well mostly it was some random old lady talking to me- but I realized that what I had with Spitfire is the greatest thing to happen to me, and that I'm not just going to sit by and let it crumble apart."
>She manages a small smile.
>"That's real good thinkin', Anon."
>You simply nod.
>She slowly frowns.
>"-If that's your plan though, you really oughta think about cleaning up."
>Everyone nods.
>You look down at your shirt and notice all the sweat on it.
>Jesus Christ, it looks like you just spent an entire DAY running out in summer weather.
>-Fuckin' Equestria, man.
>You run over and immediately hop into the bathroom.
>You strip down and shit, then hop into the shower.
>You see your clothes get wrapped in a blue glow, then slide under the door.
>"I'll have these ready when you get out!"
Must keep thread bumped
Aaand there goes my post time. Christ, it really IS easier to write sad stuff when sad.

Guess I'll take a break, here.
Only time a thread needs a bump is if it's in danger of going from page 9 to page 10.
D-don't speak so loud, man!

H-he's got a dub-trip!
What's got you down, my friend?
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I'm ready for what is coming next.
Meh, it's nothing.

Anyways, time to write, again!
Well, then I shall continue to find the finest Spitfire art I can in hopes you'll feel better. I can't wait to see what's next
That hind leg looks too much like a puffy cheetos.
What if it was colored?
>You hop out of the tub and sigh.
>You feel a lot better, now.
>And you're not covered in sweat anymore, which is a huge plus in your book.
>You wrap yourself with a towel and open the bathroom door.
>On the floor, now clean and neatly folded, are your clothes.
>Just the ones you started wearing, though.
>The rest are just hanging over on the couch.
>You grab the garments and hide back inside again.
>After a quick pat-drying, you jump into your white shirt and black slacks combo again.
>You slip your shoes on and walk out, feeling refreshed as dicks-
>-FUCK, you need to shave!
>You walk back in and grab your razor.
>They're the old school ones, too.
>It's literally just a blade.
>They have more modern ones, but they're all expensive as shit.
>And you still spent your entire life savings on a show, so...
>You can't afford that shit.
>You dab shaving cream all over your face and go to town on that scruff.
>In practically three minutes, you're already done.
>You wash and wipe your face clean.
>And it's silky fuckin' smooth.
>You grin, go outside, and immediately get greeted by Twilight.
>"Quickly, the carriage is outside!"
"Do the ones flying know where they're going?"
>She nods, then smiles.
>You mirror it, then quickly hug her.
>You head on outside of the house.
>"Good luck, Anon!"
"-Won't need it!"
>...You hope.
>You walk outside your home and immediately see this open carriage thing, with two armored guys in front of it.
>-Damn, the Princess doesn't mess around.
>It looks royal as shit.
>You climb aboard, and immediately, they start moving.
>You practically get thrown out of the fucking thing, but manage to catch the sides.
>They're fucking hauling ass.
>They have you in this weird slanted angle that just scares you even more than it should.
>You spot Cloudsdale in the distance.
>From what you've heard, the place kinda just orbits Canterlot, and is pushed around it by wind and shit.
>But it's a mystery how it doesn't just fly the fuck away.
I sure hope anon can walk on clouds.
>>Anon arrives in Cloudsdale and dashes off of the carriage.
>>Anon then falls through the clouds and to his death.
>>Spitfire mourns him in the traditional Klingon manner
>But as of now, it's right next to Ponyville.
>Like RIGHT next to it.
>Just next to the train station.
>And you already live pretty close to the train station.
>You're just glad the thing doesn't whistle so much.
>You wouldn't be able to stand that crap.
>Soon enough, you're up in the city, and the stallions slow down.
>Ponies are flying to and fro, and it looks like they have some sort of traffic system going on in here.
>You look at the city for a second, then shrink down once you see the ground below.
>God you fucking hate heights.
>You stay at the bottom of the seat, just watching the sky above and a few ponies or buildings pass by.
>The damn ride seems to take an hour, and you're shocked when it finally just stops.
>You peek your head out and see a big cloud mansion thing in front of you.
>Holy shit, Spitfire lives HERE?
>This thing could fit your house like, eight times inside of it.
>She really wasn't kidding when she said she was well off.
>You look at the cloud before you and frown.
>You put one leg out and test the cloud.
>Jesus, this thing doesn't seem sturdy at all...
"I-is this thing safe to step on?"
>One of the guards shakes his head.
>"You'll fall right through that."
"...Then what the fuck am I supposed to do, here? Stare at the fucking thing?"
>The other guard groans, then tilts the thing back, making you fall in.
>They both fly over to the front door, and you just look around for something to step on.
"Jesus, is there ANYWHERE I can fucking step without falling and dying?"
>One shrugs.
>"The inside is the only place safe enough for a non-Pegasus pony."
"-Well that's a load of shit! Why can't they put like, a damn sidewalk or something on the outside?"
>And have less pillars.
>-Seriously, why the hell is that a thing, here?
>It's like fucking Rome.
>Then you spot a very small, solid looking part in front of the door.
>Pretty much like a welcome mat type thing.
>You reach over and tap it.
>It seems solid.
>You put more pressure.
You sound just like me, only difference is that I am gonna take the long route and do college first to be a pharmacist for the army.

I would join right now but my father is letting me use his Hazelwood benifit and I can actually let uncle Sam pay for pharm school + 90k base pay with 20k on top of that annually if I wait, plus I will start off at the rank of an officer.

Good luck and remove some kebabs for me, you glorious bastard!
>it's nothing.

>>"When somepony says nothing's wrong, USUALLY there's something wrong."
Everyone (meaning every middle-class or poor white) seems to be joining the military nowadays including me and I'm not sure why.
It's not like we're in a war or anything.
I remember my Army days, many, many moons ago.

All you youngins can go off and join the military.
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>When you wanna start drawfagging but it's 1am and you cant think straight. I'll try in the morn

also shhh, don't tell the slave pony thread I'm not writing at the moment
Pft, I wonder if anyone's even noticed that I haven't posted anything there.

>cant think straight

Dam son,only 21 more hours and you'll beat my personal best.
I've pullled all nighter in college and all, once I start living on my own, sleep will become varied, I love being awake I night
However staying up should by no means be a contest

If it hasn't been asked before, what do you do that keeps you up?
Aye, it ain't a contest, but if you get a creative thing goin' on, you just act on it!

And, if I don't get coffee, I'll switch between Netflix and Steam, possibly even write a bit in advance. When I catch myself starting to sleep, I just throw some headphones on and practically ear-rape myself, or make a snack or some shit.
Glad i'm not the only one that finds comfort in ball-blasting loud music
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Noh u
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Bump for more
I was just mindlessly eating Lays until I heard that reply. Thanks for bringing me back to Earth.
>You test the waters again with your leg.
>Goddamn it, this better work.
"This thing IS solid, right?"
>Both guards shrug.
>Goddamn it.
>Okay, okay, you can do this.
>You put as much pressure with your leg as your can.
>It still appears to be good.
>You take a deep breath, then hop out onto it.
>You scream and shield your eyes.
>...Then you notice you're not moving.
>You look around and grin.
>The thing IS solid.
>Good to fucking know.
>"Not going to lie, but I kind of thought he was going to to fall."
>"Yeah, me too."
>You just glare at them.
>"-Hey, it's not like we weren't ready to catch you."
>You simply sigh, then slowly stand up.
>You turn and face the door, which just has a single, small, golden "S" on it.
>You feel that jolt inside of you again, and you suddenly only have one thing on your mind.
>-Or one pony, rather.
>You spot a small dot next to the door and press it.
>"...Nngh, whosit?"
>You smile, and the door opens.
>You look down, and in front of you is none other than Spitfire.
>-And holy SHIT, does she look bad.
>Her mane is down and frizzled, her eyes have bags under them and are bloodshot, a few feathers on her right wing are bent, and she has a bandaid on her left cheek.
>...But she's still as beautiful as ever.
>She looks up at you, and her eyes go wide.
>"A-Anonymous? What ar-"
>You hug and pull her in for a kiss, left arm supporting her rump, and your right holding her back.
>She instinctively pushes your chest with a hoof, then relaxes and slowly wraps all her hooves around you.
>Front hooves around your neck, hind legs around your waist.
>And because you're by no means an experienced kisser, you merely replicate what Spitfire had done to you yesterday.
>You brush your tongue against hers, and she returns it full force.
>She pulls you in as much as she can, then lets out a small moan.
>She uses her weight to push you against the doorframe and moans again.
>Seconds later, you both pull away, now out of breath.
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Please don't let Anon finally plowing Spitfire be the end of this story. We need more Anon and Spits happy and embarrassing adventures!
>Her face is horribly red, and her tongue is now hanging out.
>Out of your peripherals, you can see the looks on the two guards holding the carriage.
>One is just completely shocked, and the other one looks stupidly jealous.
>Spitfire just smiles.
"-Yesterday when I ran off, I did a lot of thinking in a short time, and I realized, that if there's anyone I'd ever want to call my special somepony, it'd be you."
>Her smile widens.
>The amount of joy you feel just from seeing her lips curl upwards is indescribable.
>"I... I remembered how well things were going before... With the way you ran off, I... I thought I had just ruined all of that..."
>She awkwardly laughs.
>"In fact, that's really ALL I remember. That, and getting the taxi over here."
>She just nods.
>"I really shouldn't have flown that night. Crashed into a tree almost immediately, and I had to go walking around to find a cab that could take me up here."
>She simply nods again.
>There's a small silence between the two of you.
>You awkwardly rub the back of your neck.
"So, uh... it IS okay between the two of us, right?"
>She just gives you a deadpan look.
>"Anon, we just finished making out in front of two Royal Guards. What do you think?"
>She giggles and pushes you against the doorframe again.
>She leans into your ear with a whisper.
>"Well then... maybe you just need a bit more... convincing."
>You push yourself off the wall and pin her on the opposite side.
"I'm liking the sound of that."
>She giggles.
>"-Takin' charge, huh? I like it~"
>"-U-uh, Mr. Anonymous? We, ah, kind of have to go in a little bit..."
>You actually forgot those guys were even there...
"So then... second date?"
>She puts a hoof to her chin, pretending to be deep in thought.
>"...Well, I MIGHT be able to pencil you in somewhere."
>And now it's your turn to give a deadpan expression.
>"How does right now sound? ...Good?"
>You nod and smile.
>She mirrors it.
>You cradle her in your arms and walk outside of the house, onto the little platform.
>You close her door, then lean over and put her in the carriage.
>Then you go in afterwards, trying your damndest not to think about the huge fucking plunge into certain doom below.
>You hop in and sit, then Spitfire snuggles close to you.
"You're awfully mushy right now. Are you drunk?"
>She nods.
>"Just a little... I'm just... happy, right now. I'm glad you came back for me..."
>You smile and wrap an arm around her.
"Yeah, me too."
>There's a nice silence between the both of you as the carriage takes to the air.
>The only thing on your mind at the moment is just how... complete you feel, now.
>And to think that just a few hours ago, you thought that the bottom end of a bottle made you complete.
>You feel like everything is now right with the world.
>It's a feeling you can't really describe that well.
>The best way you can try to, is to say that you're happy as shit, and in turn, everything you think about makes you happy as shit.
>Your dad is one thing, for example.
>You now only find yourself thinking about all the good times you've had with him, even if a few.
>How much you enjoyed his company, and how much you enjoyed working IN his company.
>You smile.
>Thank Christ for wise old people.
>"So then, Anon... Where are we going for this date? And how the hay did you get the Royal Guard to pull us around?"
>You blink and continue watching the sky beside her.
"Well, Dash decided to bring all her friends around when she saw how sad I looked, and, well, Twilight's a Princess."
>"Wait, Twilight? You mean that purple unicorn friend of hers?"
>You nod.
>"Huh. That's something."
>You nod again.
"And as for where we're going... I have no idea, but wherever forty bits can feed us, because I'm pretty much broke."
>"What? Why?"
"Well last night, I really didn't bother looking at the bill, and kinda just threw fifty bits on the table, and the OTHER fifty bits went to a bar..."
That video really never gets old.

I have one of the radio-extending mods in Fallout 4 that plays that song- and I literally can't think of anything other than Dash following Spitfire around and singing that shit when I hear it.
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aw fuck man, can't wait to read moar
Do you have a pastebin where I can read the current story from the start?

i miss the birb thread
Yep, just check the OP.
S-sorry I-I let it die, Anon...
>not checking the op
boy do I feel stupid.
it's okay, i did too.
Just of those old classic silly short pony vids that no one seems to make anymore.
>You laugh.
"And my entire life's savings went to seeing you backstage."
>"What? Seriously?"
>You nod.
"Every. Last. Bit."
>She pauses, then just nods.
>"-Yeah, I can see that. We were just used to having rich Canterlot ponies around..."
"I can tell..."
>You smile.
"At least I got something even better out of it, though."
>You ruffle her mane.
>She giggles.
>-God, that's so fucking cute.
>You'll never get enough of that shit.
>"Well then I'll pay, this time. We'll go somewhere NICE, this time."
"-Hey, that Griffon place was pretty nice!"
>"For a meat-eater like YOU, maybe!"
"Hey, I don't HAVE to eat meat, remember? It just reminded me of a place back home. It was nice."
>She nods.
>"But we're going someplace even BETTER. It's this restaurant in Ponyville that supposedly has really great food."
"...Well, is it a high end, fancy place?"
>She shrugs.
>"All I chose to hear was 'good food'."
>You laugh.
"-Yup, I definitely made the right choice here!"
>You pull her closer and start petting her chest fluff.
>She blushes madly.
>One of the guards looks back and sees you just casually petting her.
>He gasps and just stares straight forward.
>...Is there really something you're not getting here?
>-Oh god, is this like the wing thing?!
>...Is this like the wing thing?
>-Speaking of wings...
>You glance over at hers.
>You feel kinda bad thinking that she had crashed yesterday...
>...But it's nothing you can't... fix.
>With your right arm- or the one wrapped around her, you reach over and start massaging her wing.
>She gasps, and her blushing intensifies.
>"A-Anon, are you-"
"I know exactly what I'm doing. Just relax.

God, I really wanna play fucking Fallout 4 now.
Oh man this is so good! I've got the biggest grin on my face I'm so happy right now.

I recommend anon ask spitfire all the sensitive spots when they're alone or there could be many embarrassing moments down the road. E.g. now

god damn now i want to play fallout 4 but I have an exam tomorrow
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You know, I enjoy the shit out of Fallout 4, but for some reason I still always end up playing KF2 anyways. Shit like pic related makes it fun. But I'm glad that somehow my meh-tier writing has made you grin, and I shall most definitely use this idea of yours!

Oh and hey, so I saw that post up there when I was pretty much half dead and barely able to keep my eyes open, so how's that coming along?
>my meh-tier
Let me put it like this, Blue.

I have not followed a thread this closely to check for writing updates since Jeff Mango wrote his story on Coco Pommel in 2013. This writing is fucking ace. If my drawing was as good as your writing, i'd be better than fucking JJ.

Oh, you mean >>26031300 ?
> Bluebird's writing

> Meh-tier

Your writing makes me dangerously erect.
inb4 drunk anon and spitfire barging into his home for sexytime only to be met with the eyes of the maine six

also,top writing birdy
Nope, >>26048902

Well thank ya, but I still don't see it.

I dunno, I guess it's just because it's my own work or some shit. I write jokes and sad stuff, and when I see everyone saying how fucking hilarious or sad it is, and I usually end up just sitting here trying to figure out what the fuck is really funny or depressing about it.
It totally isn't meh tier man. You're actually really good
i feel the same about my drawings.
i guess a man is his own biggest critic
Its cus you've written in the characters extremely well so we are really invested with your characters and what happens to them feels more real and we want them to be happy

TL;DR you used good writing techniquies
>1 off
>Nope, >>26048902 (You)
Oh, that. I was planning to start drawfagging again very soon, but stress actually brought me to quit one of my studios just yesterday. I'm gonna have to lurk for now, sorry man. Still read all the updates though. Also gonna be completely offline thursday to build PCs, fucking hell.

>I guess it's just because it's my own work or some shit
Same goes with drawfagging. You always think it's shit, because you're the one who made it. The good part is that the fact you can see that your writing isn't the best thing ever made, or could be better in some regards, is a great thing. It's worse when you think your writing is great, when it's actually piss poor. It means that you know you can improve, even though your writing right now is incredibly good. See it as a positive, man.
About halfway through the pastebin now. Shit's good, don't be too hard on yourself.
Only criticism I've really got is that I perhaps would've liked Spit's to be a bit cockier, but it's nitpicking. I'm no writefag and just one out of 55 people having posted.

I'll be drawing in a little bit, I'd be happy to make you a request.
i accept your challenge


You really need sleep.
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nice one senpai, just don't die, I still need that green finished
>Not playing insurgency
>Not freeing the oil from those dirty mudslimes
>Not Defending your oil from those halal infidels.
Come on, are you even trying?
>pic related
>not PR

I have 95 hours in insurgency, and no where near bored,
>Even made a few crappy sound mods for it

>meager 27 hrs in KF2, wasn't updated enough, gonna play the LARPer
Dude. Sleep. Now.
Are you nordic or something?
I wish, when I was younger, I got one of those vidya cheat code books, even if I had 1 or 2 games that had them in there, I brushed across codes for "Starsky and Hutch" and the code to unlock everything was VADKRAM, I don't know what it means but young me thought it was cool and i've used it as a username ever since.
sometimes id put '20X6' after it, as a reference to Homstar Runner
Super spedy draw-fagging

Gotta go shovel snow. Love the Michigan weather
Lucky. I slept through literally the only day it snowed over here.

The desert sucks.

But holy shit, that drawing skill is top notch!
>not living in the /balt/ic states

It's like you enjoy being around black people.
>black people
You're funny. Nothing but people from Mexico here.
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>completely outdoing me
welp, glad someone else can do the job now at least
that's pretty bad too tbH
Your drawings are good too Iad, keep doing it
i really love seeing drawfags(writefags of course too) who take the time to draw for threads. i'd like to myself,but this month is just crammed with assignments and i have finals at the end of the month
No! I think you're stuff's great! Keep going!
I learn from others
From that professional artist in the Marble Pie comic thread, I redrew his drawings of Anon myself to learn how he does his anatomy and muscle curves.
I look how people draw their stuff, then apply it to my own stuff.
It means "Calf hug" in my (nordic) language, meaning you'd wrap your arms around someone's lower leg.
That's hella gay.
It's not a word you find in a dictionary, but it's technically a legit word.
And yes, it's pretty gay.
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Goodness, thats hilarious to me, I'd never guess it meant anything, especially not "calf hug"
I'm having a laughing fit, here.
>Wanting to play Bf2 with mods
No thanks my goy.
Love the game so far. Only 35 hours and Im better than most of my steam friends. I really wish it would come out with a full competitive system.
working where i do pretty much includes managing stuff waaay beyond my levels anyways, it's fine. Besides, this dude can probably get shit out much faster than i'm able to. Keep doing god's work, man!
Man, I got a hooorrible fuckin' headache right now.
But I will PREVAIL!

>She tries to relax, but her wings go stiff.
>Alright, time to put that natural human dexterity to work!
>You stroke a feather, and she gasps.
>You grin.
"So then... you gonna tell me which places are the most sensitive here, or am I going to find that out for myself?"
>You rub the base of her wing.
>She instinctively leans over you, giving better access to them.
>"-A-Anon, w-we shouldn't- not here-"
"-Worried about the guards?"
>You lean into her ear.
"...It's okay. Let them watch..."
>Her face grows stupidly red.
>-Man, this lewd talking business is actually pretty fun.
>No wonder she does it so much.
>You spot the bent feathers.
"Ooh crap. Before anything, those feathers have to come out, don't they?"
>She looks at her wing, then nods.
>You should probably do that, then.
>"I should probably do it soon, too, before-"
>You pull all the broken ones out, then toss them out of the carriage.
>-Oh good, you were right about it not hurting.
>So that means that the spots holding feathers are sensitive, and not the actual feathers themselves.
>Why'd you think different?
>Well, it's good to know, for the future.
>She just looks at you.
>"Wow, that was really fast. How'd you do that?"
>You just wiggle your fingers and smile.
"...You wanna see what else they can do?"
>She doesn't even think, and just viciously nods, blush deepening once again.
>-Jesus, what a lewd pony.
>You go back to the base of her wing and massage it again.
>She bites her lip and glances up at you for a second.
>"You better not stop."
"Yes, ma'am."
>You grab her right wing with both hands and slowly start pushing in with your thumbs.
>It's a bit like kneading dough, but instead you're using your thumbs over everything else.
>...Though, you're pretty sure dough doesn't get aroused, or make noises when you mess with it.
>You move up the base, trying to find anymore sensitive spots.
Orale vato
but I like your drawings...
It's standalone now
You finally caught some z's?
Great job tho, as always.
You know, I've had that goddamn game on my wishlist for the longest time, and when I had the money for it, I bought it for a friend who wanted it. He only played for 7 hours, then left it. Makes me sad.
Pft, me? Sleep? You're funny. I just had coffee.

>You go over the actual beginning of her wings, and she jerks a bit.
>It's the part where her wings are connected, so to speak.
>You're not familiar with bird terminology.
>You slowly rub it with your thumbs, and she squeaks.
>"Y-yeah, r-right there."
>One of the guards looks back and gasps.
>The expression on his face is priceless.
>He looks like he just walked in on his mom giving head or some shit.
>-Oh dear god, now you have that image stuck in your head.
>You internally cringe into the nth dimension.
>You focus back on the adorable pony in your arms, and mindlessly continue rubbing.
>You see one of her hind legs twitch.
"-Spitfire, have I ever told you how adorable you are?"
>Before she can say anything, you move your left arm over and start petting her belly.
>She sighs, then shifts her head to lie right under your chin.
>You kiss the top of her head, getting a small giggle in response.
>Then you continue rubbing her wings.
>Her giggle quickly turns into a stifled moan.
>God, she's like putty in your hands.
>You pick up the pace and just start vigorously massaging them.
>You made sure it's not hard enough to hurt, but definitely enough to feel.
>-Though, you can't really tell, because, you know, no wings.
>But the point still stands.
>"Mmmf, yes, keep doing that!"
>You move your left arm and start multi-tasking shit, doing both wings at the same time.
>The other guard turns and gives you the most disturbed look you've ever seen in your entire life.
>It's fucking hilarious.
>You just grin, then continue your wing-job.
>-That's pretty much what it is, right?
>You mentally shrug, then continue your stroking.
>One of her hind legs kicks again.
ITT: Writefag dies from the lack of sleep.
They got coffee, they alright.

Also, sketch.
pretty white / 10
C'mon dude! Your day doesnt actually end if you dont spend some time in a deep sleep and it feels like hell
Jealous of your skills/10
Looking quite nice, but why is she so sad?
write more story / 10
Get me more coffee/10
excuses / 10
Excuses don't kill you on the inside/10
but lack of sleep does / 10
>"It's possible that given enough time, sleep deprivation can kill you. While no human being is known to have died from staying awake, animal research strongly suggests it could happen. In the 1980s, a University of Chicago researcher named Allan Rechtschaffen conducted a series of groundbreaking experiments on rats."

>no human being is known to have died from staying awake
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that's racist

y-you too god bless you and your sleep deprived writing

It's called arousal :^)
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The head is a bit too big compared to the rest of the body.
She's a small mare.
Fuck, you're right.
I don't know why I've been doing that that lately.
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Fix'd. Thanks for your feedback, anon.
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That's better.
All I'm gonna say is from this position a 66 could be achieved... as in a 69 but upright, with a wing job and just plain sex. Mkay new fetish
For you?
That looks pretty dumb to be honest sempai desu.
No, __________4U_________
This is so good it hurts. More pl0x.

Also dropping the namefagging from here on out, so yee.
b-bu why?
You better man the fuck something real quick or I will start to harass you. OVER THE INTERNET!
Oh shit I am officially triggered.

Ya don't need to post content to stay a namefag. Not when you've already posted shit.
H-how else will I know you're here?
N-no u
Also this >>26065046
Well no one in their right mind is gonna leave this thread.
Aka, keep writing. I need something to get off to
It's not like i'm leaving the thread, jesus. I just won't namefag it anymore. Spitfire's my waifu MINE I TELL YOU, i ain't going nowhere. And hey, >>26064868 has real fucking neat drawings anyways.
In other news, I nearly dropped a cup of scalding hot coffee on my dick. Saw my life flash before my eyes. I also listened to an entire album before doing one single post.

>You can feel her heartbeat quickening.
>She starts softly panting.
>"D-d-don't stop..."
>Her tail swishes from side to side.
>It flicks at you.
>-Why does it always do that?
>It's like a damn whip to your face.
>Spitfire doesn't even say or do anything.
>-Well, besides pant, of course.
>She's doing plenty of that.
>You look to the sky and see how close you are to your house.
>Oh shit, kick it into high gear!
>Along with the kneading, you throw in a little circular movement, like you're using a screwdriver or something.
>Her leg starts kicking.
>It's like something akin to a dog.
>A VERY excited, bright yellow dog.
>-Huh, you're pretty sure you've already used that analogy before...
>She pushes herself against you and just rests her back on your chest.
>She's starting to get really fidgety.
>"Mmm... ohhh jeez..."
>Her back arches slightly, and her panting just becomes heavy breathing with a few whining noises thrown in.
>The guards share awkward glances and continue staring forward.
>You see your home in the distance.
>She pushes herself against you further, then wraps a hoof around your neck to hold onto you.
>She's pretty much got you locked in an RKO position, her head resting on your left shoulder, and her right hoof holding you.
>"Aah, oh, A-Anon~"
>She just closes her eyes and continues softly whispering your name for a few seconds.
>-Fuck, the house is right there-
>"Ahh, A-Anon!!"
>She tenses up.
>You can feel your pants get soaked.
>-Oh shit, you're not wearing the stain resistant ones Rarity made you!
>Spitfire relaxes and sighs, tongue lolling out of her mouth as she pants and tries recovering.
>"That... that was amazing..."
>-Well, now that you knew what the hell you were doing, you'd imagine.
>The guards land and just stare ahead.
>"Y-you can go, now..."
Yandere alarm!
As they leave the carriage, they see the guards trying to awkwardly hide their erections.
I'm going to bed now, more hot pegasus tomorrow
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Bluebird, this story is amazing and I love it so far. The only part I have something to say about is when Anon went to Spitfire's house, I feel like she forgave him too quickly. She could have been mad at him for a while and let him explain why he did what he did.
But other than that, I am loving it.
Yeeaah, immediately as I posted that, I fuckin' noticed that.

Serves me right for not editing this shit.
You know, it's really pissing me off that I said 'that' twice.

See what I mean? Can't even write fucking responses right.
Stop being so hard to yourself. Just post it here at the rate you write it and then edit the day after and upload this version to your pastebin.
That's how I do it.
Anyway love it so far.
You meant to say:
>immediately as I posted that, I fuckin' noticed.
Nigga, had I been up for 3 days straight, I would probably have retyped every other line and forgotten to type out the other half.
Na, once you've stayed up for a while, you're pretty much fully awake, minus a few headaches. It's my fault, at that point.

Anyways, a two post drop in like, a minute or two.


>You try to stand and notice that she's not budging.
>She lazily holds her hooves up.
>"Carry me."
>You sigh and grin.
"Only because it's you."
>She wraps her hooves around your neck, and you cradle her in your arms.
>You look at a guard, who's merely looking at you through his peripherals.
"Thanks for the ride."
>He just nods, and you step off with Spitfire.
>They immediately haul ass away from you both, blushing furiously and sweating a bit.
>You feel a hoof softly rubbing your neck.
>"So... want me to return the favor?"
>Your eyes widen, and you viciously nod.
>Weird how just yesterday you'd of completely dropped the idea.
>Now, you can't deny how much Anon Jr. approves of it.
>She grins and adjusts herself in your arms again, hind legs hanging just below your waist and front hooves still hanging around your neck.
>On your stomach, just below your belly button, you can feel a little wet spot.
>Something seeping into your clothing.
>Looks like she approves, too.
>You adjust her in your arms again, holding an arm under her rump with your left.
>You feel your heart starting to race.
>Oh shit, this is it.
>You're actually gonna...
>You're gonna do... THAT.
>You can't even hide how inexperienced you are about the whole thing.
>Sure, you've seen videos- PLENTY of videos, but you don't actually KNOW anything about...
>-Well, maybe she didn't mean THAT, exactly?
>She whines and slightly grinds against you.
>-No, she did.
>-And now you're just feeling horribly inadequate.
>Yesterday, you said you couldn't even SEE yourself doing this ever, in your entire life, and literally a day later, you're about to.
>-What if you fuck it up somehow?
>-Why did you even say YES?!
>You don't know how to do this crap!
"I'm gonna be honest... I don't know the first thing about doing... you know..."
>She smiles.
>"Me neither. So..."
>She leans into your ear.
>"-Let's figure it out together."
>-Jesus Christ, your face is on fucking fire.
>She grinds against you again.
>Your heart is going fast enough to break the sound barrier.
>You slowly walk over to the door, and she pulls you in for a kiss.
>You feel some kind of primal urge kicking in.
>The kinda shit you've heard about in stories and such.
>It's a very strong feeling.
>Like you're unable to focus on anything but the pony in your arms.
>Just, pure lust.
>The kiss is wet and sloppy as hell.
>Your tongues are pretty much having a thumb war, just, uh, minus the thumbs.
>You both turn the thing into a little game, trying to pin the other's tongue down.
>Hers is a lot longer than yours, actually.
>Not retardedly long, but you're pretty sure long enough to touch the top of her nose.
>You push her against the front door of your house, using both arms to hold yourself away from it.
>Her hind legs don't wrap around your waist anymore, and just sit there while she continues kissing you, heart racing just as quickly as yours.
>Your left arm instinctively leaves the door and moves under her rump, squeezing just a bit.
>She breaks the kiss, still touching her muzzle to your face.
>You both pant, sharing a few deep breaths and a quick peck every few seconds.
>You don't care what you do or don't know.
>Even if you do it right here on this door.
>You want her- no, you NEED her, right here, right now.
>You pull her into another long, passionate kiss.
>You squeeze her rump just a bit more, getting an adorable squeak in response.
>No more waiting, now.
>It's time to make this happen.
>You take her off the door, never pausing the kiss, and open your front door.
>You step inside and move slowly in the darkness towards the stairs-
>A light flips on and all the blinds are opened, revealing the Elements of Harmony, which were still in your house.
>You completely forgot that they even EXISTED, honestly.
>And now they were all here in your house.
>You and Spitfire quickly break and just freeze.
>Nobody moves.
>A light flips on and all the blinds are opened, revealing the Elements of Harmony, which were still in your house.
>You completely forgot that they even EXISTED, honestly.
>And now they were all here in your house.
>You and Spitfire quickly break and just freeze.
>Nobody moves.
>They all just stare.
>You stare at them staring.
>Flutter-something faints.
>Then you notice that your left leg and stomach is just soaked.
"Uuuh... I, uh... forgot that you guys were here..."
>"...Ah'll say."
>You gently place Spitfire on the ground beside you.
>She gives an awkward wave.
>"H-hi, everypony. U-um... Princess Twilight..."
>She bows.
>Twilight just rubs her neck with a hoof and forces a smile.
>"Sooo... you're Captain Spitfire?"
>She shuffles a bit, then slowly nods, forced smiles all around.
>"Uh huh... That's... that's me..."
>You notice all the balloons and decorations hung around the house.
"...Heh, these are, uh... nice..."
>Pinkie slowly nods, cheeks flushed to all hell.
>There's a long moment of silence.
>There's some small shuffling between everyone.
>You sigh.
"Okay, screw this. We're all adults here, and we all know what just happened. Let's just put this behind us, now? Happy times?"
>Rarity points at you.
>-Or more specifically, your pants.
"-BEHIND us."
>She just slowly nods.
>Twilight nods, then looks at everyone else.
>"Y-yes, Anon's right. We're all adults here, and we should just move past... that..."
>Everyone slowly starts moving, shaking off the awkwardness of the situation.
>"Yeah, Ah'll just pretend I didn't see all that."
>"The most important part is that Anon's happy now, no?"
>Rarity turns to you.
>You just smile.
>"Y-yeah, maybe a bit TOO happy."
>Rainbow just glances at Anon Jr. then walks over to the kitchen.
>You slowly move your hands over in embarrassment.
>Flutter is still passed out.
>"W-we still have cake!"
>Pinkie hops over into the kitchen with Dash.
>"Cake, everypony!"
>Everyone takes a moment, then recovers and heads over to the kitchen.
>Except for Flutter.
>...Flutter... butter.
>-Who cares?
>You sigh and turn to Spitfire.
>You were just cockblocked by Dash's friends.
>She looks up at you and winks.
>"We'll definitely have to make that up sometime."
>You smile, then nod.
>You're still shaken up.
Drawfag, My goyim . Your content, in my opinion, is better. Stop being a shill and JUST DO IT

That's why I use text docs and just copy and paste.
>Finally check threads


Anyways though, I'll call it a day, here.
Still ain't sleeping, but y'know.
Don't let this be one of those stories where anons a fuck boi whos all: "LOL SRRY GUISE, DONT MIND ME, JUST FUCKING A MARE ON MY COUCH, COME IN, TAEK A SEAAT!"
It's over used and so is the blushing thing.
Love it so far though
>>You're still shaken up.
No wonder they chose to name the leader of the Wonderbolts after the most beautiful machine ever built: the Supermarine Spitfire:
God damn cockblocking nice people.
>Battle of Britain

>You-know-who wanting the Me-262 to be a bomber instead of an interceptor

>Gloster Meteors vs. V-1s

...and conclusive proof that Hitler did everything wrong.

...but then inferior subhumans like him always do.
Thirty minutes until 64 hours.

Damn, and I was probably going to experience hallucinations tomorrow. That would've been interesting.

Fucking Sunday.

>I was probably going to experience hallucinations tomorrow

Sleep is my drug.

My bed is the dealer.

My alarm clock is the police.

...meanwhile, Spitfire sleeps, whilst the Goddess of the Night ensures she has good dreams.
I will buy you insurgency. I'm not joking. I have plenty of money from work and i honestly don't spend any of it. It'd be my pleasure
>I will buy you insurgency
Reminds me of the Zerg thread and some Anons bought the writefag SC2.
He then stopped writing.
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Acts of sabotage, and i'm too generous for my own good.

Also, I'm back from work
Have a thing I did on my break
Ill computer-ize it and make a small comic of it tommorrow
Yay, awaiting the good greens
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>the good greens

Dashie likes those.
You need some warm milk and a long nap.
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I'm torn between wanting bluebird to get some sleep, and for him to get the FUCK back to work with his amazing green.

plz choose sleep, BB
Dont be an faggot bluebird sleep is for the gays.
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glad we got that settled then

i >>26059755 fukken called it
This triggers my inner autist.
Strange as it is, I have nothing against a well drawn anthro.
However, the face on "this", whatever "this" is... no, just no.
First time poster here. Bluebird you are an amazing wordsmith. Ive never checked a thread more frequently for an update before reading your work. Also, Spitfire ftw!
Leave before you become obsessed with bluegoys green and drawshills drawing! YOU STILL HAVE TIME!
I'm monitoring both of your green.
They're just too good.
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i just said i'm not leaving the thread completely

>that coloring
fuck, it's actually perfect.
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So, /spidya/. Do you have a best pone plush?
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I wish. This is the first one I would get if I got any.
Just gonna make some dinner, then I'll draw more Spitfire. Maybe even colour this time.
>Spitfire is starting to get too old to be a Wonderbolt
>Only in her mid-thirties, but flying is a young mare's game
>Anon appears due to one of many available plot-devices
>Anon hasn't grown up around ponies, so he can barely tell the difference between the genders, let alone how old a pony is
>"The fuck is a 'wonder-bolt'?"
>Anon treats Spitfire like any other (younger) pony
>Start trading flirts
>Start dating
>Rainbow Dash is super jelly
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never stop you magnificent bastard
i actually had a similar idea to this
combined with the added drama of her being infertile, which is a big deal in the pony world, but that doesn't matter since anon is a human and she an equine

i'm no writefag tho
Will probably buy one I hope
exactly, they weren't going to just let you leave, and you're not leaving,
so it's all settled