Text

Wave breaker.
Tazacorte, La Palma - Canary Islands, Spain.
© Roberto Conte (2023)
Follow me on Instagram
406 notes
·
View notes
Text
they call me DC Comics cause I also divide my life into pre and post crisis
12K notes
·
View notes
Text

least i’ll still have company. my inside, tiny poison tree. i’ll seal my love in me. oh beautiful poison tree, let your power grow in me. let your sorrows sow in me. turn me into a poison tree.
#poison ivy#pamela isley#poison ivy art#poison ivy fanart#dc#dc fanart#cheeky quick drawing#lyrics from poison tree by grouper#dyketastic!#dyketastic!draws#lesbian art#submitted my dissertation so i finally have time to focus on stuff that matters…drawing and writing about lezzas#dc comics#aint drawn in forever i miss it
23 notes
·
View notes
Text
Thinking about Helena and Helly R. again
Helena was raised to be an Eagan. To be worthy of Kier. To carry on the legacy of her family's company/religious cult. Conditioned from birth to recite the nine principles and live by them.
Helena getting the severance procedure is a PR gimmick, sure, but her entire life has been Lumon propaganda. Every Eagan family portrait or charity event or piece of media coverage carefully curated to show a perfect family governed by unassailable moral principle. The family and the company merged into one oppressive entity.
And because of that, I think Helena has spent a lifetime repressing her anger, her sadness, her loneliness, her deep desire for some tiny scrap of autonomy in her life. When she is severed, when she wakes up on that table as Helly R., she no longer has an identity that requires a lifetime of suppression. But she still has all the emotion and impulse attached to it. The white hot boiling rage. The bitterness. A desire for autonomy that is so powerful she is willing to kill herself just to feel like she has some control over her life.
Without the burdens and attachments and abuses of her family, all those things she has been hiding are set free. All the barriers set up between Helena Eagan, Lumon Heiress and everyone else are knocked down.
Britt Lower is incredible in Severance, but the standout scene to me so far has been Helena watching security footage of Helly's kiss with Mark. There's all the "Helena is jealous" jokes (which I think are both true and fair), but the thing that sticks with me the most is the intense yearning Helena has in that scene. Her horror at the realization that this thing, this tool she created to serve her family's will, is more human than she is.
Helena was severed to support her family's vision. Helena's innie tried to kill her, and still she went back to the severed floor. Her father's representative says they will give Helly to Mark like she's just another fucking Lumon perk, and Helena complies without argument. She is the thing. She is the object. And for maybe the first time in her life, Helena has had the chance to see what she looks like as a human being
583 notes
·
View notes
Text

"Can you love as the goddesses love you? Have you the courage to bear the pain that will surely attend that love? Of course you do. We know, because we recognize our own. We know you... You are an Amazon."
178 notes
·
View notes
Text
bodies
rio vidal x agatha harkness
warnings: smut, angst, murder, blood & violence, rough sex
read on ao3
“it wasn’t that rio was jealous, no she wasn’t jealous. she was tired. she’d been collecting agatha’s little plaything presents for too long now. she couldn’t remember exactly when agatha started killing them, but years of her degradation had turned rio’s heart cold to it all. she had been angry at first, skin prickling with humiliation as she cleaned up agatha’s messes, staring into the cold eyes of another beautiful woman trapped in agatha’s web. rio had been jealous, but that wasn’t it anymore, it had twisted itself into something solid, cement blocks of regret and self-loathing that sat on her chest, deep in the pit of her stomach, binding her hands, weighing down her feet.”
or
agatha has been fucking her playthings and leaving them as gifts for death.
#agathario#agathario smut#agathario fanfic#wlw#wlw fanfic#dyketastic!#agatha all along#agatha harkness#rio vidal#rio vidal x agatha harkness
43 notes
·
View notes
Text
giving
agatha harkness x rio vidal
read on ao3 here
warnings: smut, light angst, slightly rough sex
“rio’s skin prickled with anticipation, agatha’s hands were everywhere, pulling her clothes off and grabbing her close. rio dreamt of this, of agatha so desperate to make rio hers, of agatha leaving scratches down her back, up her sides from trying to pull her impossibly closer, of her pleas for control which only inevitably spin her further undone, spiralling towards ruin. the flush across agatha’s cheeks, flowering across her neck lends rio to shamelessly squeeze her legs, heat rushing through her at the sight of agatha’s desire, she was always so reactive, endearingly unable to hide her feelings from her face.”
or
agatha and rio reunite after a fight. magic strap sex. set somewhere pre-canon, post-nick.
#rio vidal#agathario#agathario smut#agatha harkness#agatha all along#agathario fanfic#wlw#lesbian smut#rio vidal x agatha harkness#dyketastic!#nsfw
4 notes
·
View notes
Text
Man, this comic gets it.
This is why people love Superman.
Superman Red & Blue #5 “Generations” by Daniel Warren Johnson
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
missed me
victoria neuman (the boys) x reader
genre: smut (with feelings), nsfw
summary: you and victoria reunite in your kitchen, seeking escape and comfort In each other. can be read as a follow up to my other fics, can’t have both (part 1) and friends (part 2), or as a stand alone.
warnings: smut, language, weapon
a/n: many thoughts,,, head full😵💫. thanks for all the love on my other fics v appreciated. hope u horny milf lover pervs enjoy (the call is coming from inside the house).
touching her again after what felt like a lifetime of distance burst something inside you like a dam. need flooded you like she was everywhere; her warm hands gripping slightly too hard on your skin, teeth sharp against your neck, tongue soothing bite marks. she was in your head, consuming your every thought, any memory of betrayal or brutality erased by your longing. neither of you had spoke since she kissed you, wanting to remain in the liminal zone of closeness and falsehood together for as long as possible, pretending like nothing had ever gone wrong. the kitchen counter dug into your back as she kissed you fervently, the sound of both your heavy pants filling the room. you kissed along her gentle neckline, pride rushing through you at the whiny high pitched noise she lets out as you nip that spot where her shoulder meets her neck. upset by the loss of her wandering hands you look down to see her fumbling out of her jeans, discarding them on the floor alongside her jumper and your glock.
flipping your positions your hands grabbed her ass, down the back of her supple thighs as she hopped into your arms, allowing herself to be placed on top of the counter. pulling you in between her legs by the waistband of your underwear, you could feel the heat radiating from her centre. your kisses were wet and slow, her hands lightly scratching their way beneath your vest, up your stomach. stopping beneath your chest, her fingers tickled the skin there.
“d’you still want me baby?” she breathed out, small unsure smile tugging at her shining lips, a million questions at once. nodding you tugged her by her shirt down towards you, but she wouldn’t kiss you, eyes poercing into yours, waiting for an answer. you wondered if she was making fun of you, just wanting the satisfaction of hearing your incessant want for her; how could she possibly not know that despite it all, your answer was always yes?
a moment of stillness as you cupped her face, fingers tracing its contours. you see nadia in her eyes, wishing you could save her. “of course” you simply reply, wholeheartedly the truth, “everyday”. the expression on her face overwhelmed you as you kissed down her body, dropping to your knees on the hard, cold kitchen floor.
the mere sight of you, gentle eyes gazing up at her was enough to make her let out a soft “fuck”, voice gravelly and dry. legs spread, resting over your shoulders, victoria’s hips bucked hard against your face as you kissed over her clothed core, her underwear soaked. you continued to pepper kisses between her legs as she whined, grabbing your hair to hold you firm, “don’t tease”. you wasted no time pulling off her underwear and covering your face in her wetness. as you sucked her wet clit, lapping at her like she was edible, her thighs clench around your ears, your nose squashing up against her whilst she holds you close by your hair, grinding against your face. you moan against her, noise vibrating through her cunt as you mindlessly grind against your foot, underwear sticking to you, wet. mouth sliding against her you could feel her thighs start to tighten around you head, tension begging to be released building in her body.
a pause in a string of expletives she groans “you’re so fuckin’ good at that”. slightly slurring, her usual collected clarity disappearing she continues, “always so ready to make me feel good”. looking down at your rutting hips with hooded, dark eyes she smiles, a genuine smile that feels like homecoming. her stream of consciousness becoming more desperate and unintelligible by the second. “i love that you could cum just like this, just by making me cum. so generous, hm? so- fuck you’re so-“ her trail of affection is cut off by a silent cry, a quiet wrecked sound of need. she cums around your face, slicking your nose, dripping from your chin. she is beautiful, thick eyebrows furrowed, nose crinkled as a dusky blush covers her cheeks and neck.
its only when u stand to kiss her, guided by her fingers stroking your slack jaw, that you realise your knees are throbbing, bruises already blossoming. “want me to make you cum baby?” she asks soft, fingers playing across your hips, toying beneath the band of your underwear.
“come on vic” you grunt, impatient. she spares you from making you ask nicely, from getting you to beg, desperate to touch you and cautious not to push her luck. her long slender fingers find your clit, grinning at your wetness.
“when you opened the door in nothing but that top and this silly underwear this was the first thing i thought about” she smiles. circling your clit she uses her free hand to lift your vest, mouth sucking over you nipple. your ceaseless moans embarrassed you. “don’t be shy” she breathed cool over your wet nipple. “let me know you’ve missed me. please” she swallowed. you were completely malleable under her words and touch, chasing your own pleasure to show her your affection, your devotion.
you languidly rolled your hips against her hand, head foggy, eyes locked on hers. “i missed you every day vic, all the time.” your words spilled out, mixed with aching breaths. “hated myself for how much i missed you, missed your face, n’ your laugh. missed your lips, missed talking to you, missed makin’ you cum.” you came hard as she sucked against your neck and muttered a “thank you baby” as she deliberately worked to leave a mark.
#fanfic#the boys#the boys season 4#victoria neuman x reader#the boys x reader#victoria neuman x you#wlw#the boys!reader x victoria neuman#victoria neuman smut#victoria neuman lesbian#need her to spit in my mouth#want her to suffocate me with her thighs#death by head🙏🏽#lesbian#dyketastic!
148 notes
·
View notes
Text
friends
victoria neuman (the boys) x reader
genre: angst, light smut, hurt/comfort(ish)?
summary: when victoria shows up unannounced at your apartment in the dead of night you want nothing more than to kick her to the curb, you let her in anyway. reader is a member of the boys, could be read as a follow up to my previous fic “cant have both” or as a stand alone. (now wiv a follow up u can read here)
warnings: weapons, language, slightly nsfw, light smut, mentions of sex
a/n: back with another one. getting back into posting ff, haven’t written for an ‘audience’ in a while, feedback is appreciated. enjoy! :)
“wow, you really gonna treat a friend like that?” victoria drawled, foot blocking your front door, stopping you locking her out. wide grin flashing her perfect white teeth. the last thing you wanted at 4am was to shuffle bleary eyed through your shitty apartment, glock firm in your grip by your side, to answer that incessant hammering against your door. when you open the door to see her standing you want nothing more than for the earth to open up and swallow you whole, dreading wallowing in the limbo between you both. the space between hate and longing, betrayal and understanding, where all interactions between you two now seemed to take place. you were tired.
staring up at you under her thick dark lashes, you knew you couldn’t get rid of her even if you wanted to. “we’re not friends” you croak out, voice rough with exhaustion. she just laughs at you, continuing to blink up at you like a fawn, flashing her predatory smile. “what are you doing here vic?” you hiss frustrated by her brazenness and lack of explanation.
“can i come inside? i want to talk to you”, she lets her smile drop. “please”.
you say nothing to each-other as you turn to let her in, she slides past you, eyes dragging down your body, heat prickles your ears as she clocks your batman underwear. she strides in, confident and assured as ever, walking towards the kitchen as if she were coming home from work, like she owns the place. just as you’re starting to become hyperaware of your lack of clothing she speaks again, voice gentle and relaxed over the quiet hum of the tv, “i knew you wouldn’t be asleep yet”.
“is that what you’ve come here to do, pretend to know me so well, tell me about my fucking sleeping patterns?” you mutter, irritated. resting against your kitchen counter you stood opposite her, taller than her now that she had her heels off. the low orange glow of the kitchen light illuminated her bronzed skin. victoria looks up at you, all brown eyed and beautiful, and it makes you forget what she’s done, what you’ve done, just for a second.
“i want zoe out. i want her far away from all this bullshit. i want out. i need you to help me undo this, to just leave it all behind. please.”
hissing, voice scratchy in your throat you half sigh, “you just turn up here and expect me to trust you, expect me to risk my life for you, blinking up at me like bambi and expecting me to feel fucking sorry for you.” “i trusted you, believed in what we were doing, in us. i thought we were working towards something right, some fucking justice for once. to find out those years of my life were useless, sisyphus pushing that rock up that never fucking ending hill for vought. when i told you about-“ you stop abruptly, tired of rehashing the past, take a deep, shaky breath and collect yourself. “coming round here talking about friends” you scoff.
chest rising and falling with uncertainty she stares you down, face unflinching. mocking and faux innocent she asks “we weren’t friends?”. “i’d say when i’d ride your pretty face til it was covered in my cum that we were friends, at least i definitely considered you my friend.” her smile is sharp. “when you’d rut against my leg all desperate and pleading you didn’t think i was your friend?” she added with an exaggerated pout.
you recognised the deflection immediately, could see that all she wanted was to crawl under your skin and pull you back to her. but you’d be lying to yourself if you said it didn’t effect you, the full truth of it all hanging in the air, your skin prickling with memory and mouth dry with the her boldness. “we’re not friends now” you say, proud of yourself for managing to keep your voice steady.
she steps forwards, encroaching in your space. “that’s okay, we don’t need to be friends”. she moves closer again, you don’t dare move, anxious not to scare her off, anxious to close the gap between you two. she breathes an “i’m sorry” into your neck, voice laced with what you so desperately want to believe to be sincerity. moving her head up, her nose bumps your cheek, plump lips pressing a soft kiss against your mouth. your arm moves of its own accord, snaking around her waist, urging her closer. her next kiss is less gentle, her mouth greedy and desperate against yours, chills run down your spine as you let out a quiet whimper. tongue swiping over her lower lip you let yourself get lost in her, in the kiss. transfixed by her touch heat pools deep in ur abdomen, your underwear growing sticky and uncomfortable.
the nights spent touching yourself, seething with anger as you imagined your fingers buried deep inside her, imagined pulling out those little pants and whimpers that made you want to never hear another sound again; those nights seething in your betrayal and wetness couldn’t compare to the electricity that ran through your body as her warm tongue licked lewdly into your mouth. nothing could compare to the feeling of her pressing her warm, petite but deadly body against yours. revelling in the feeling of her tits against your chest it was the bumping of her hip against the hard glock tucked in the thick waistband of your underwear that brought you out of your trance. both of you breathed heavy hot air against the others face, panting as you try to remember why you were here, to clear away you heady thoughts, to regain some semblance of control.
#fanfic#x reader#the boys season 4#the boys#victoria neuman x you#victoria neuman x reader#victoria neuman x the boys!reader#the boys x reader#victoria neuman fic#victoria neuman fanfic#victoria neuman lesbian#shes a dyke! why? cos i say so!#the boys smut#victoria neuman smut#dyketastic!#NEEDTHAT#i can fix her#jk she doesn’t need fixing i hope she gets worse#lesbian
320 notes
·
View notes