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 Posting a reply to post #26732

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26732 No.26732
Let's get this one started up again with imminent rape and naked!rotting!hallucination!Langstrom/Schtein.

previous threads:

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Requesting some Colin/Lucas porn? Please?

link to source please.

very helpful


hey, isn't that by the chick who did Honeydew Something-or-other?

yes it is

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Here's to actually looking through the threads before you start a new one, just like I didn't.

I have some pics saved that were done over on /y/, can we get some more drawfags all up in this?

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Some SFW skip/ ritz

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Not so SFW Skip/ Ritz

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and some some non-canon underwear ritz
Don't think the drawfag in case liked boxers

Word to the wise, you don't need to NSFW gay porn on the gay porn board. Only really weird kinks get nsfw'd.

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Oh that wacky Xoan ambassador.

Someday ambassador!
Straight to the moon!!

Until then NOM NOM NOM

poor Ivan He never gets his dick sucked or a handjob or anything. Being the apprentice sucks.

he did get a blowjob from a really horrifying vagina-spider, though. Which, gaaahhhhh.

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Yes! Finally Ambassador/Apprentice porn! Drawn by the lovely and talented Hysteria on y!gallery.



More of these two pairings.

Seriously. If Sandoval wants some sweet sweet lovin', he should give Ivan a little attention.

Don't get something for nothing. Not even in Xoan.

We need this. I wish I could, but I'm kind of a shitty writefag, and my tablet it broken...
Again, YES
Err... I'll be riiiight back...
Eh, I don't know, I wouldn't mind being his slave for a while


Do you guys mind some childhood fluff?

I may or may not expand this universe to include some awkward teenage fumblings. :>

They met when they were eight.

They had their first sleepover a month after, in Rittz's house. The location was never in question; Skip's home was a Subject Not To Be Talked About. It was whispered, though, among the teachers and the gossips in Ms. Bloom's class, like the way adults used to whisper about Rittz's mom. Rittz didn't really like the hushed tones and furtive glances full of pity then, so he decided Skip must not like them, either. That would explain why Skip returned school with more band-aids when the whispers were particularly loud or when the glances were blatant enough to be stares.

The sleepover was pretty standard as second-grade sleepovers come. Rittz pulled out some chocolate-glazed doughnuts and strawberry milk (to which Skip muttered "...lame") and consoles for Super Mario Bros. They took turns, one munching on the snacks and yelling directions while the other controlled the little mustached red man on the screen. Then they started to argue about Superman and Batman, and which one would rescue Princess Peach faster. The argument lead to Skip's impassioned demonstration of Superman's abilities, until Rittz joined in as Batman and the carpet of the living room turned into a pit of lava and Princess Peach was forgotten.

Dinner was served by Rittz, whose father phoned and apologetically explained that he had to work overtime again. The dinner was doughnuts (this time Boston creme) and a bag of Cheetos. Skip devoured the meal with particular gusto. It had been a while since he got to eat snacks.

By the time Rittz's father came home, Rittz and Skip were snoozing on the living room sofa, the latter's head on Rittz's stomach. Rittz's father tiredly took in the mess of the living room (linens and pillows arranged as what was undoubtedly a fortress, video game controller and cord strewn about, books and magazines scattered all over the floor for seemingly no reason at all) and frowned. He moved to wake Rittz up to scold his messiness, but froze midway, suddenly remembering the last time Rittz acted so carefree-- before Sarah.

Instead of waking his son up, he retrieved the linens on the floor and covered the sleeping boys. With a small sigh and a sad smile tugging at his lips, he bent down to pick up the scattered books.

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A tame offering of Sandoval/Apprentice.

I love you. Very much.

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I am just going to leave this here.

omg onii I LOVE YOU!!

We need some writefags

>>53274 here, new to /coq/ but wanted to try and writefag for Oglaf. First fic, hope you enjoy.

He doesn’t know what it is about the apprentice that attracts him. His looks wasn’t special, his name was forgettable, no benefits such as an alliance or a trading route. Although the horned hat was amusing, the Xoan could easily have an even better replicate made. He was just the underling of a political ally, a powerful woman whose every whim came true, if she demanded it.

When he’s sober, the apprentice is apprentice. When he’s drunk, apprentice is apprentice. What is the difference, he wonders to himself. The same pointed clothes, the same lightly tanned skin, the same look of exasperation, irritation, disbelief. He wonders what the apprentice looks like when he smiles, a real smile and not a fake one planted by the mistress.

He doesn’t see why he pursues the man so fervently, compared to other conquests.

Why not the ‘mistress’, as she was called by those under her rule? She’s beautiful, his other bedmates are beautiful, every body he gets writhing under him (and the couple he writhed under himself) were enchanting. They have skill in what they do, their hips are perfect lolling against his and they know what to touch, what to nip and suck at, how loud to scream and how softly to beg for him to go faster, harder, deeper. He doesn’t need to seek them, they seek him and offer everything from their bodies to their land. He can’t find the answer, which frustrates him.

When he drinks, something changes. Of course the man (wasn’t his name Ivan) is still just an apprentice under his female master, who is a good friend and ally along with being just as prone to toy with other lives as he is. It is fun, he is guilty. But after enough drink is coursing through his blood, spreading a warm feeling through him, a thin thin thin line is crossed.

There is now something different about the apprentice (Is his name Ivan?), which he can’t bring himself to ignore. It’s captivating in every meaning of the word.

His plain brown hair suddenly seems perfect in its waviness, how it felt in his grip when Ivan was sucking him off. For a pinecone, of all things.

His always exasperated face suddenly seems cute and in his heart the Xoan ambassador feels himself grow fond of the skeptical shine to his eyes, the tight pressed lips and his eyebrows, so often furrowed in his presence.

Ivan’s clothed body is more alluring than any half-naked or naked person he sees in the embassy, bodies tangled with bodies. He liked how in certain poses, he could see the fabric wrap around and accentuate his body, the angles and curves where angles and curves should be. And the ambassador drinks more to try and distract himself from this sudden…sexiness, only to find it encourages his mind into making advances.

He does not woo and seduce with careful caresses and whispered sweet nothings. The ambassador does not, doesn’t even let them cross his thoughts.

He tricks instead, with half-planned-and-half-alcohol-and-half-on-the-spot schemes.

Lies, with carefully chosen words.

Poisons, with the foods from his native kingdom.

Deceits, with the antidotes a Xoan will always bring with them.

But is it really just lust that drives him to go so out of his way? In this drunken stupor, he will look into the glare of the other, who wipes away a drip of white fluid from the corner of his mouth. And in this gaze he finds stranger feelings. He wants to hold the other’s hair in his hands again, wants to feel the movement of a tongue against his own like the first time they met. Wants to strip his body and feel every inch of it, wants to take him and hold him with the first shouts of pain. All of this in the small not-even-a-moment-of-time that they exchange eye contact, until he turns and leaves the temporary embassy.

Although he just released himself, as soon as the other is out of the tent, he trails a hand down his body to his half-hard member. Takes it in hand, stroking slowly. Thoughts of drinking and more strange events, maybe another human rowboat, or a cross through the oceans of time in a clock. But then those stupid, stupid things are wiped away and replaced by Ivan. Not just apprentice, but Ivan.

Ivan whose body he undresses and touches, each gasp only driving him more.

Ivan who he presses himself against after preparing the other’s entrance, fingers stretching the muscles.

Ivan that rocks his body against his as they fuck, the air sweaty and he wants the first night to be just them in the room, on a bed alone and away from other ears.

Ivan who would whisper, then moan, then shout his name with every few thrusts. “Sandoval, Sandoval, Sandoval!”

And with this last thought he cums in his hand, a sticky mess on all five digits. He’s drunk and tired, uninterested in having any actual sex tonight. After a good search he finds his clothes, and hopefully what fluids are on it are mostly his. They’re gathered in his arms as he winds around the couples and groups, to a more private room that he actually -sleeps- in. The mask is set on the table beside him, and the clothes are just dumped on the floor. Sheets wrap around his naked spent body, and somewhere through the drunken haze he wishes that apprentice-Ivan was in the space next to him.

The next morning arrives, and in a hungover and worn state, Sandoval the ambassador from the Xoan nation still can’t answer any of the questions he asked himself about why Ivan(he still wasn’t sure) the apprentice of mistress was such a thing to be pursued. For a while he just lays on the bed, wondering why. It seemed a simple question, but it wasn’t.But complicated questions couldn’t be answered by not looking for the answer.

He gets up, gets dressed and wanders out of his room to see if he can find the man once more, and continue to pursue both the answers and the person prompting the questions.
Tell me if I'm failing at these two; and does the mistress ever have her name stated, or the name of her land/kingdom/etc. stated?

Nope, Mistress is always Mistress. We never know her name.

And please, you are NOT failing. Please do continue!

So uh, this gets posted because it's the cutest thing I've ever seen.


Oh those naiive young days.

Wriiiitefaaaaaag come baaaaack...

I'd love to, but it'd be nice to see more content from other people too.

No ones really contributing though...
I'll wait.
Take your time, writefag. Someone might even post other stuff.

new oglaf comic up.


You beat me. I was going to post the exact same thing.

I fucking lurve this comic. This new update was delicious. Fucking exploding in fanboy joy. Liiiiife isss soooo gooood...


>want whatever's in it
>dick in a box

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Someone get started on this before they move the story along and ruins fantasies.

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Thank you for the newest comic to obsess over, anon.

A short Oglaf ficlet, because I was bored.
Sandoval didn’t give as much as he took, but in this case he was more than willing. He held two legs apart, tongue licking and sliding all over the hard member in-between. The apprentice was trying to hold in the groans coming from his mouth, but with each teasing movement he only made more. It was so crowded in this large bedroom, filled with noise and heat and the wet noise of his mouth on Ivan’s erection.
“This is, only because you owe me it…No false hopes.” His green-gray eyes laugh, gazing upwards, but the other avoids his eye. Such little confidence.
“I guess I do, don’t I? So do let me make it up to you, Ivan..”
“Shut the hell up, and hurry up..” Sandoval smiles, looking down again. From the corner of his eye he sees the other look at him, tanned skin rosy and his eyebrows bunched.
Endearing, truly. Pulling away for just a second, the ambassador kisses the tip before slowly taking every inch of the other in his mouth, bobbing up and down. Hands tangle painfully into his long hair, and more whispery breaths. Faster, that voice says, with the same impatient tone he always had…And Sandoval obliges because he wants to, and not because he needs to. There wasn’t any harm in getting even, repaying a favor done unto him. It’s hot and lazy on this afternoon that they have alone, for just now. The ambassador shudders when the other cums, wishing that it was more than just that moment.


Thank you again.

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I now want fic of an exhausted Viktor taking Mordecai home and tucking him in bed, while Mordecai pukes all over his only good shirt and feels up his brickhouse of a body.

...Mordecai in a tuxedo...


bumping this for that person who can't figure out you can search through past pages.

boxer hockey here

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Main FAQ [ baw] [ co / cog / jam / mtv / tek ] [ ck / coc / draw / writ ] [ pco / coq ] [ a / op / pkmn ] [ n ]
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