#Alfred Harvey

[lumber]

(Originally posted Jan. 14th, 2022)

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"You shall DOT by your own evil creation!" With apologies to #FletcherHanks, #AlfredHarvey, #VicHerman, and #WarrenKremer. ♥️♥️♥️ #LittleDot #HarveyComics #Comics #Comix #ReadMoreComics #HarveyComicsClassics #DarkHorseComics #FantagraphicsBooks #Fantomah #YouShallDieByYourOwnEvilCreation #BarclayFlagg #CartoonistKayfabe #JeauxJanovsky #JeauxJ #JeauxJanovskyArt #RetroAesthetic #DorothyPolka #LittleDotPolka #DotPolka #PolkaDot #DotLand #HarveyGirls #HarveyGirlsForever #HarveyStreetKids #IAmFuriousYellow #PaulKarasik @karasikkomiks

[ditzybat]

tim: i’m a seventeen year old CEO of course i do drugs sometimes

bruce: tim i cannot describe how disappointed—

alfred: very hypocritical of you, master bruce. considering at 17 you and that harvey dent were running lines at that boarding school when you thought i wouldn’t find out

bruce: … carry on then…

[prlssprfctn]

Jason Todd arrives to the Gotham after being brought back alive for the first time, and while building up his career as Red Hood, visits Harvey Dent in the Arkham. They talk in a surprising peace, discuss this and this, and Jason even shares some of his insane ass lore, because, honestly, who is going to believe Harvey Dent?

And no one doesn't.

But there is a problem. The next time Bruce Wayne visits Harvey, Harvey randomly drops a bomb on him by saying that he is so, so glad that their Jaylad is back, and he grew up so much, looks so much like Bruce now! He even tries to assure him that, you see, yeah, Jason was dead, but he crawled out of his grave, and then, the Lazarus Pit fixed him!

Bruce thinks Harvey finally had reached the end of his line. Like, low-key, the last stage of insanity.

Harvey: God, he is still so well-mannered. I feel so pleased that he came to visit old me first, though. I always thought I was his favourite over you.

Bruce, laughing awkwardly, while asking the medics to add some new medicine to Harvey: Ahaha, yeah, that sounds like our Jaylad.

Harvey: Super happy for him, seriously. I mean, look at him, getting himself a new career as a Red Hood. That's our son. Feel a little bit bitter that he is into Al Ghuls family now, but that's fine.

Bruce, frowning, because Harvey isn't supposed to know about Al Ghuls and their connection to Lazarus Pit or about Red Hood: Uh, had J-Jason said something else to you?

Harvey: Oh, damn, we spoke for the whole night. He was pissed at you, though. Like, for the Tim guy, whoever he is.

Bruce, turning to the doctors: ...Maybe, uh, give me the same pills you gave him. I feel like I need it, too.

[hesztia16]

*Wayne Manor, Family dinner*

*Barbara’s phone rings*

*she leaves and comes back a few minutes later, expression solemn*

Dick: what happened

Barbara: the Joker is dead

Jason: *shocked silence*

Tim: *shocked silence*

Damian: *shocked silence*

Alfred: *shocked silence*

Like a dozen other more: *shocked silence*

Bruce: *leaves the room*

Dick: Bruce!

Alfred: Master Bruce what-

Jason: *looks away, clenching his fist*

Bruce: *returns, with a bottle of champagne*

Again: *shocked silence*

Tim: why’s there a note on that saying: “For when the Joker dies”?

Bruce: it was a gag gift from Harvey when he was… you know, less murderous

*not so shocked, more of a hesitant silence*

Jason: *stands* pop it open, old man. I’m bringing the glasses

Alfred: the help is much appreciated, Master Jason

Steph: how did he die?

Barbara, a little confused: my dad said something along the lines of… a bunch of fans manifesting it after the writers were cowards for too long?

[theerurishipper]

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First <- Part 3 <- Part 4 -> Part 5

Masterpost

[travsd]

Of Harvey Comics and Noveltoons

A shout-out today to comic book entrepreneur Alfred Harvey (Alfred Harvey Wiernikoff, 1913-1994), who founded Harvey Comics in 1940, and employed his brothers Leon and Robert to help him run it. Founded in the midst of the great comic book explosion of the late ’30s and early ’40s, the company initially introduced now-forgotten superhero characters like Captain Freedom and The Black Cat that…

[lovesick-joey]

doodle dump

[incorrectbatfamandfriends]

Alfred: You mean to tell me you’ve got a fake ID Master Bruce?

16 year old Bruce: Well yeah, everyone does.

Bruce: Harvey has one that says he’s got diplomatic immunity-

[to-the-stars8]

The Waynes' Nanny

Batfamily and Reader/ Bruce Wayne x Reader Chapters Ao3

Three's a Crowd

Saying the kids loved Harvey would have been an understatement. They swarmed him like fire to dry hay. Of course, Harvey indulged every one of their whims, despite your repeated reminders that he didn’t have to.

But he’d just shrug, a smile tugging at his lips. “They’re my favorite kids. Who else am I supposed to spoil?” As he said it, you could’ve sworn there was a look in his eyes—a silent tease saying that you could have been the one being spoiled.

Your heart stuttered for half a second before you pushed the thought away. It had been a while since you’d been on the receiving end of a man’s attention, and DA Harvey Dent was exactly the type of man you’d been waiting for. Tall, dark, and obscenely handsome—kind of like Bruce, but with less money and definitely not your employer. 

 Since the kids were around, you tried not to play into his flirtation. At least not openly. A few coy smiles, a lingering glance—just enough to let him know you weren’t opposed. It wasn’t until after dinner when the kids were finally tucked into bed with Uncle Harvey’s help, that you thought you might finally get a moment alone with him.

Except, Bruce had other plans. 

Like sticky paper, he stuck close, seamlessly inserting himself into every moment. Every time Harvey tried to flirt, Bruce rerouted the conversation, spinning some ridiculous childhood story about the two of them. You played along, smiling, laughing at all the right moments, but inside, you wished he’d be called away for something—anything. Harvey, now and then, would pass you a knowing glance. The tension had been building up all night, and you couldn’t wait for it to spill over. 

As if on cue, salvation arrived in the form of Alfred, stepping out onto the terrace where the three of you stood. 

“Master Bruce,” he began, ever the picture of refinement. You would never quite get over the fact that Alfred called a man in his thirties Master. “There is a telephone call for you.”

Bruce swirled the champagne in his glass. “Can I answer it later?” 

“I’m afraid it’s a business call, sir.”

Something flickered across Bruce’s face, too quick to catch. For a second, you thought he might snap at Alfred, but then, just as fast, he smoothed it over with a dashing smile. “Excuse me.”

The second the door clicked shut behind him, you turned to find Harvey had already closed the space between you. 

“So, when are you gonna let me take you on a date?” His voice was lower now, the playful lilt edged with something heavier.

You smiled coyly. “Try that again. You’re sounding too much like a DA.”

Harvey leaned in, his breath warm against your ear. “Let me take you on a date.”

A slow shiver danced down your spine as you looked up at him through your lashes. He was close—closer than you’d allowed all evening. If it weren’t for the very real possibility of Bruce or the kids walking outside, you might have given in to the temptation to close what little space remained.

Instead, you reached for his tie, running your fingers along the fabric, pretending to inspect the pattern. “Even the kids know how to say please.”

Harvey smirked. “Please let me take you on a date, Nan?”

Your lips parted slightly as you glanced up at him. This was the part where your heart should have been racing, where anticipation should have crackled in the air like a live wire. Instead, it felt…off.

A scent curled into your senses—his cologne, too strong, too sharp. Overpowering in a way that almost stung. You liked subtle smells.

Bruce had a nice subtle smell. 

His cologne was rich but understated, something warm—amber and faintly floral. Harvey smelled like he was trying too hard.

You barely had time to unpack that thought a little more before the terrace door swung open. Sighing, you looked over to find Bruce sauntering toward you, the faintest trace of a smirk playing on his lips

“Nan, Damian needs you,” he said, stepping aside as if giving you no choice but to move past him.

You thinned your lips. He could have easily handled it. You didn’t miss the fact that he had chosen not to. Looking back at Harvey, you said, “I’m free Saturday night.”

Bruce’s brow lifted slightly. “You are?”

You and Harvey ignored him. “Great. Pick you up at seven?” 

“Make it eight. Gotta put the kids to bed,” You teased with a wink. 

“Eight then,” Harvey agreed, swooping down to kiss your cheek.

You expected your heart to flutter. Instead, it barely stirred. The realization settled in the back of your mind like a drop into still water—small, but rippling outward. Harvey was nice and polite. Good enough to overlook his cologne. Good enough for a date. But as Bruce watched you go, his gaze unreadable, you couldn’t shake the feeling that it wasn’t Harvey’s attention that had been making your pulse quicken all night.

Harvey shrugged, glancing at Bruce. “You said you didn’t care if I dated your nanny, remember?”

Bruce’s jaw tensed, but he kept his expression neutral as he looked back toward the door. He had said that.

So why did he suddenly care so much now?

[about-faces]

—Michael Cho

[emailprobably]

Child Bruce Wayne standing in front of Alfred's bed in the middle of the night saying, youre gonna help me get revenge is actually so on brand for him good job. Fucking little sleep paralysis demon

[gilverrwrites]

My horny ass has been watching Gotham again.

A-Z Gotham Men* and how they fuck you.

*like 75% of Gotham men: Alfred, Bullock, Butch, Ed/The Riddler, Jerome, Jervis, Jim, Lucius, Maroni, Penguin, and Zsasz ��

18+ MINORS DNI

Almost everything Alfred does is practiced, and purposeful and despite all his training, he’s still rough around the edges. But when he looks into your eyes, when he hears his name on your lips, all of that hardness and posturing dissipates. He tries to praise you but it comes out all muddled and breathless. So he worships your body as best he can, gently brushing your most sensitive parts with strong calloused hands, rocking your bodies together until you’re as lost as he is. Sometimes he does it with those white cotton gloves still on, and he neglects to clean them for days after because he can still smell you on them.

Bullock talks a big game, but he’s not the man he used to be. Still, what he lacks in youth, he makes up for in enthusiasm. Swollen lips kiss and suck at you, wherever he can find, his scruffy facial hair leaving beard rash on all his favourite parts. Firm, clammy hands pull and grope and guide your body, showing you how he likes it done. “Oh yeah, ooooh yeah, baby.” He pants between ragged breaths and clenched teeth, “Feels so fucking good baby, just like that.” When he’s done he wipes you down with a wet cloth and a cheeky grin, offering to buy you a drink he’s needed since you started.

Butch is big and sturdy and such a good boy. Butch is happy to say whatever you want to hear, to do whatever you want him to do, for you to use his body however you need to get off. “Anything for you Ma’.” He gets high on the scent of you, whimpers when you touch his cock, and eagerly licks up any mess he’s made, whenever, and wherever you allow him to. He’s at your service, just tell him what to do, so long as you shower him with your praise and adoration when you’re done. He especially loves it when you run your fingers through his hair, and plant your kisses behind his ears.

Ed is curious and attentive. His voice is shaky as he asks “Is this okay?” “Does that feel good?” “Is all this because of me?” His long fingers tentatively exploring every inch of you, in and out, memorising every jerk of your body, retaining every noise you make. He refuses to cum until you’re ready, until you’re fully entwined and engrossed in each other.

But The Riddler knows you’re needy. The Riddler takes advantage of that desperation, because it makes you dumb and mailable. He uses your body for his pleasure, he knows where to twist and pull to make your walls wet and tight around him. When you try to speak, he shushes you, cups your cheeks in gloved hands and coos; “I know, I know. Don’t speak. Just take it.”

Jerome is unpredictable. Some nights he’s a tease, making you beg and plead for your own defilement. It’s an act, entertainment, and you’re his favourite performer. When you’re good to him, he’s good to you, but when you’re bad, he’s really really bad. But it’s hard to be good, because he likes to move the goalpost whenever he senses you getting comfortable.

On other nights he’s clingy, and dutiful. He uses you to keep his cock warm, cradling you, swaying your bodies back and forth, inching himself deeper and deeper inside of you, and laughing into the crook of your neck.

Jervis is composed, and poised. He rolls his sleeves up and lets his hat sit askew while you ride him. Likes to watch the way you wither and pant, your eyes grow more and more vacant each time you work his cock deeper into your burning core. Likes to whisper and woo you with his sweet nothings. “Aren’t you a treasure? Fucking yourself for my pleasure?” It’s such a thrill to watch you come undone for him, especially when you’ll unravel yourself willingly.

As to be expected, Jim is the vanilla type. The quiet type, the strong and sturdy type. He makes love to you like it’s his duty, holding you down in missionary or the mating press as he hammers into you in powerful, uniform thrusts into your both coming undone, your name escaping his lips in an atypically soft whisper when he finishes deep inside you. What’s less expected is his oral fixation. Jim likes to relieve his stress by loosing himself between your legs, by licking and sucking and biting all the parts that make you flinch. He likes to know he’s left his mark on you, even if it’s confined to the places only he can lay his eyes on.

Lucius is like the cat that got the cream, grinning the whole time, every time. No matter the place or position, he peppers your skin with kisses, the curl of his lips evident with each press of his open mouth. He likes it slow and deep. Holds your feet over his shoulders and sink in until you can both feel his tip press against your cervix. Tell him how good that feels, smile back at him and he’s a goner. He likes to finish in your mouth, likes to watch the way your body perks when his cock twitches against your tongue, the way your expression softens, and your lids grow heavy when his thick, warm cum hits the back of your throat. You can barely roll over to grab the tissue before he’s on you again, ready to assault you with yet another round of smile-laden kisses.

Maroni likes a show, likes to be entertained, likes to know he makes you feel good without barely lifting a finger, he’s just that good, you know? So he lets you grind against him, or lets you ride him, nice and slow. He might play with your nipples when he wants you to make those pretty little noises, or press your tongue down with his think fingers when he wants you to be quiet. After you’ve found your release he holds your hips in a vice-like grip as he bucks up into you, deceptively fast for a big guy, until he unloads wherever he sees fit.

Penguin fucks you in a frenzy, high on your body, using you like every time is the first and last chance he’ll get. He ruts into you in short, sharp movements. He likes to see you on your knees, worshipping at his feet, taking him in whatever hole he pleases. He likes to rub his cock on your face, likes to mark you with his musk. When he speaks, it’s between shallow, harsh breaths, he begs demands that you call out his name, again, and again, louder and louder, ensuring everyone knows you belong to the King of Gotham.

Zsasz doesn’t care about your pleasure or comfort. In fact, it’s your pain that gets him off. Zsasz will fuck you dry so he can watch you flinch. He pinches, and wrenches, and grabs you like a ragdoll. He enjoys choking you until your neck is bruised and swollen, until you're crying deliciously salty tears that he loves to lick up. He likes to cut you on those fleshy, tender parts, likes to see your deep red blood on his pale hands. He loves to fuck you until you’re shaking, until you’re sore and overstimulated and begging him to stop.

[thecheesecracker]

I recently watched Gotham for the first time, and it was so much fun! It was balls-to-the-wall insane--the different takes on the classic characters, the dark humor, the camp. MY GOD, THE CAMP!! I ate all that shit up lol.

Anyway, I happened to be off work for the last couple of weeks and decided to bust out my sketchbooks to get these off my chest.

[prlssprfctn]

Every time another joke about Batman/Bruce Wayne passes by me, I can't help but imagine that the whole rumour about these two dating was originally (and probably accidentally) created by Bruce himself.

Just imagine, a teen Bruce, still only starting with his vigilante career, makes a crucial mistake - he pays with his own credit card in front of people, while being Batman. A stupid, absolutely instinctive mistake, but in his defence he wasn't sleeping normally for a week, and had an open wound in his stomach that day, so. Whoops.

And then someone asks Bruce Wayne about it, in front of a thousand cameras. And he blurts out the first thing that comes to his mind.

Reporter: So, mister Wayne, recently citizens had reported that they saw Batman paying for the damage in the city... with your credit card. Care to explain details behind this?

Bruce, smiling stupidly: Oh, he is my ex. I sometimes sponsor him.

The crowd: (goes wild)

Alfred, starting at the interview back in the Batcave: ...We are never going to get rid of this, are we?

And guess what? They don't!

Bruce thinks that with time passing, with his love interests switching and new rumours spawning in the world, they might forget about it. He was young, he was stupid - he fucked up, alright?

But decades pass. He has a whole football team of kids. Everyone still ship Bruce and Batman.

And when this stupid video accidentally gets resurfaced on the internet again, his family goes insane. They start creating even more stupid rumours on galas.

Reporter: Mister Wayne... For years now, the crowds are speculating... Who is exactly your mother, and where is she now?

Damian, sighing pitifully: My father and my mother don't enjoy contacting each other, sadly. My mom says that their relationship was just a rebound; father desperately tries to forget Batman... Still, to this day.

Bruce, gripping the glass of champagne: ...

Talia, watching this interview with Ra's: Now, that's my son right there.

Dick: Oh, why I was screaming at Batman in the middle of the street a few days ago? Oh, this bastard- I mean, this respectable vigilante, he dared to get in the argument with Bruce. He can't really leave him alone, really! They are so insane about each other... So toxic, but so, uh, captivating... But you know, Bruce! He has such a fragile heart...

Gotham: Aw-w, poor mister Wayne!

Bruce, sighing: Jesus Christ.

Tim, shaking his head to the camera: I hate Red Robin, really. Did you know that his existence is just a direct offence to my father? Yeah, actually, Batman took this kid under his wing with another man - I am not going to tell who - to make dad jealous. This is disgusting!

Jason, who returned from the death by pretending that all this time he was under the child protection system after becoming an accidental witness of the second Robin's death: Oh, yeah, it was tough... Poor kid exploded in front of my eyes! Reporter: But, mister Todd-Wayne, what were you doing in that warehouse?

Jason, wiping fake tears: They were like my divorced parents, you know... Batman and Bruce. Batman really tried to mend things with dad back then, and wanted me to like him... We just wanted to spend some time together with him, and that Robin kid... God, it was terrible... Batman refuses to contact me now. I miss my second dad...

Bruce, back in the Batcave, watching as Batman's reputation goes lower and lower: ........................... Alfred: Well, master Bruce... Bruce: Not a word. Al. Please.

[superbat-lmao]

Bruce gets hit with a spell that makes his outward appearance reflect how he thinks of himself.

Most of the JL is stunned, his kids are unruffled because at least his consciousness is in his own body, and Clark realizes a couple of things about himself.

[theerurishipper]

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First <- Part 21 <- Part 22 -> Part 23

Masterpost