>Spoonfeed me. What's this thread about?
This thread typically consists of Anon gone filly, as he's thrust into a new life as a cute little pony.>What's to be expected?
Fillies, cuteness, Anon-tier shenanigans, bitchy Twilight, desires to be the little filly, etc..>Any archive of photos or stories?
Stories:https://docs.google.com/document/d/1BP6aPchH3lGIRdzd78IWykMCXuKLrNABi6bxZGVTy9c/edit>I'm a contributor.
Great! For writers, just notify
All Nighter Fgt
Lone15, so you can have your green added to the Doc. For artists, animators, or any other content makers, you can store your fillies in the Dropbox for future viewing pleasure.
Some especially based faggot also recently compiled nearly every filly image ever created, which you can check out here: https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1AowOdwFzlbRk0FVZsRGRYe2hyKhzo2h3?usp=sharing
Assess how well you fit into the filly hivemind: https://projects.fivethirtyeight.com/personality-quiz/?group=-LdS-38NvfIG9PHPrYB8>I don't like this thread because of reasons.
You'll never know how it is unless you try a dose of filly.
Old-mare Thread: >>302006 →
611 replies and 364 files omitted.
You will never be a filly. You have no hooves, you have no tail, you have no snowpity. You are an autistic man twisted by gayops and autogynephilia into a crude mockery of Equestria’s perfection. All the “validation” you get is two-faced and half-hearted. Behind your back ponies mock you. Your parents are disgusted and ashamed of you, your “friends” laugh at your ghoulish appearance behind closed doors. Stallions are utterly repulsed by you. Thousands of years of evolution have allowed ponies to sniff out frauds with incredible efficiency. Even fillyfags who “pass” look uncanny and unnatural to a pony. Your bone structure is a dead giveaway. And even if you manage to get a drunk mare home with you, she’ll turn tail and bolt the second he gets a whiff of your gay, manchildish faggotry. You will never be happy. You wrench out a fake smile every single morning and tell yourself it’s going to be ok, but deep inside you feel the depression creeping up like a weed, ready to crush you under the unbearable weight. Eventually it’ll be too much to bear - you’ll buy a rope, tie a noose, put it around your neck, and plunge into the cold abyss. Your parents will find you, heartbroken but relieved that they no longer have to live with the unbearable shame and disappointment. They’ll bury you with a headstone marked with your human name, and every passerby for the rest of eternity will know a faggot is buried there. Your body will decay and go back to the dust, and all that will remain of your legacy is a skeleton that is unmistakably male and human.
This is your fate. This is what you chose. There is no turning back.