#harvey.. on a CHAIR

[pandadrake]

Dr. Crane yelling at the Arkham Asylum staff for removing the images from his presentation slides due to "triggering content," as though that was not The Entire God Damn Point.

I was wondering what Dr. Crane would do with the results of his fear gas research then I remembered that Arkham Asylum contains 90% of Gotham's scientific community.

Follow-up to my last Batman comic doodle.

[rvspecter]

Look at me.

[hotelraleigh]

(should i write a harvey x farmer academic rivals one shot)

[kermit-p-hob-brainrot]

Episode 3.16 of suits is just Harvey Specter’s no good very bad day

[zapsoda]

every time i post art or a video or something and i dont tag it please yell at me say zapsoda you bastard you better tag that shit right now

[chaoticharvest]

The Oldest Man gives us an impersonation of a Roomba.

Bonus: Harvey Korman cracking up at his antics.

[leporidaecervinae]

gay people can never break up normal, even when they never dated in the first place, it's always some shit like "You know, I do know what it feels like to lose your purpose. I used to wanna be a vampire so bad. It guided every choice I made. I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm happy I'm a human again, but it was hard. It was hard waking up every day with that not being the goal, to be a vampire. Well, I am already a vampire, so that only sort of applies. Right, well the point is I think I found a new purpose. You will too, somewhere. But maybe right now our purposes are taking us in different directions, and that's okay. Perhaps you are right, Guillermo. I am a warrior, but maybe this is not my fight."

[lesbianjonimitchell]

pj harvey performing i inside the old i dying on october 28th, 2023 in copenhagen, denmark

[borom1r]

what if i told u all my document for editing/archiving my SDV fics is 95 pages long now 👉🏻👈🏻

[lifeis-strangemercy]

[rvspecter]

[lucyrose191]

CALM IN THE STORM| H.SPECTER

Pairing: Harvey Specter x Wife!reader

Summary: The entire firm knew how temperamental Harvey Specter was and whenever he was in one of those moods, they knew it was going to be a painful day, until they found the only thing that could calm him down.

Warnings: none.

Suits Master List

Harvey Specter could be described as many things; arrogant, rude, uptight, stone-faced and most certainly hot headed. It wasn’t hard to piss him off but it was certainly difficult to calm him down and once his mood was ruined the entire day was doomed.

It was quite frankly anyone’s worst day whenever Harvey wasn’t in a good mood because they always took the brunt of it and there was no way to fix it.

Or so they thought.

If there was one thing anyone would say about Donna Paulsen, it was that she knew everything, which meant she knew exactly what would calm Harvey Specter down.

His wife.

Y/N Specter wasn’t a lawyer, she was an aerospace engineer which was just as, if not more impressive than being a lawyer and Harvey Specter worshipped the ground she walked on.

After watching Mike Ross leave Harvey’s office with near tears streaming down his face, Donna had enough and picked up the phone.

Y/N’s attention was momentarily drawn away from her computer at the sound of her office phone ringing but continued looking through data as she answered "Y/N Specter speaking."

A sigh of relief was heard through the line before Donna’s voice filtered through. "Y/N! Thank god! I don’t know what the hell is up Harvey’s arse today but he’s nearly made Mike cry three times and it’s only 10 o’clock, can you please come and save us," her husband’s secretary practically begged.

Y/N smiled, leaning back in her chair, work forgotten. This wasn’t the first time she had received a phone call like this and she found it hilarious just how much fear her husband built within people, he was a real softy around her.

Luckily for her, she had a lot of freedom in her role, she had proven herself for many years before that she was now able to come and go from work as she pleased, being fully trusted that no matter how often she was here her work was always done.

"I won’t be long," she said before hanging up, not wasting time in grabbing her things to make her way to her husband’s workplace.

As she walked towards her husbands office, Y/N bit down her laughter as she saw the obvious signs of relief on everyone’s faces as she walked by.

"Y/N you have no idea how happy I am to see you," Donna greeted her as she approached her desk, "He’s miserable in there."

Y/N looked through the glass into her husbands office and found that the redhead was telling the truth, the heavy frustration on her husband’s face was hard to miss.

She gave Donna a smile before making her way into Harvey’s office.

The man sighed heavily hearing his office door open, not looking up from the case file open in front of him. “I thought I said I didn’t want to be disturbed.”

Y/N smiled, “and does that include me?”

Harvey’s head snapped up at the sweet, smooth tone of his wife’s voice, feeling the tension in his shoulders deflate just from her presence. "Y/N?”

“Hey handsome." She smirked slightly, walking around his desk, he turned in his chair just as she stood in front of him.

He looked up at her in the same way he always did, there was nothing but pure love in those eyes, “What are you doing here?"

Y/N smiled lovingly at him, stepping forward to stand between his legs, wrapping her arms around the back of his head. “You’re scaring your colleagues.”

Harvey rolled his eyes, sitting up to rest his hands on her waist. “They’re ridiculous.”

Y/N hummed, “maybe, but how could I deny the chance to come and see you?”

“Fair point, I can understand the struggle of not seeing my handsome face for a couple hours,” Harvey replied, dead serious, smiling as his wife rolled her eyes and gave him a gentle slap to the shoulder.

“What’s got you all worked up, darling?” She asked.

Harvey released a deep breath, sparing a glance to the case sitting open on his desk. “I didn’t even want to represent the guy but Jessica knows him, I know him to be a complete prick."

Y/N thought for a moment before inviting herself further into his space, forcing her way into his lap, not that he was complaining, he just tightened his grip around her, leaning back into his chair. “Well, how about I treat you to lunch?” She proposed.

Harvey smiled tiredly. “I’d love that, baby." He replied, earning a bright smile from his wife who leaned forward to press a loving kiss to his lips before standing back up, pulling him up with her,

“Come on then, we’ve kept Ray waiting long enough.”

The smile on Harvey’s face was a stark contrast to the frustration he had been hounding earlier and it was all down the angel in front of him who wouldn’t even allow him to grab his coat, too persistent in dragging him through his office door.

As they made their way out of the building, they paid no attention to the uncomfortable weight that seemed to lift from everyone’s shoulders.

One thing for sure is that the entire firm were relieved for the existence of Y/N Specter.

[flash-bastardd]

I had to replay this scene more times than I care to admit.

GUILLERMO AND NANDOR WHAT WE DO IN THE SHADOWS (2019-2024) SEASON 6, EPISODE 4: THE RAILROAD

[katastronoot]

C. Can you draw. Harvey falling asleep on a lounge chair. With the farmers cat curled up on his chest. Pretty please.

I like how you think anon 😌

[plethorawrites]

can I request Damian x reader but reader is like the opposite she’s clumsy and messy (NOT DIRTY SHES JUST NOT REALLY ORGANIZED) and at first Damian is like no way I could ever like someone like that but then he’s like oh shit I think I like her you don’t have to do it but it was just an idea

(A/N- This has been sitting in my drafts for a bit because people are STILL calling me racist, so I've seriously considered wiping Damian from my page completely. But I love him as a character way too much to do that, so here we are!) (Requests are open again, btw!)

---

Despite being rather pretentious because of his upbringing, I think anytime Damian Wayne is assigned to do a group project, he'd want to go to someone else's house. They usually live in squalor (Middle class) but he deals with it for a few hours because it beats having his classmates fawning over his older brother's or asking his dad if he really used to date Harvey Dent or if that's just a rumor.

Usually, despite the condition of the house (Aka having a dish rack on the counter.) the room they'd work in was pretty clean. But you? Oh, no, no, no. He almost had a heart attack when he saw the state of catastrophe your study room was in.

Books on the ground instead of on the shelves, chair pulled out from the desk instead of tucked in, tons of sticky notes scattered on the walls and reminders pinned up. No one could have that short of a memory, could they? You seemed to.

The number of loose papers on the desk, the open notebooks with illegible writing, fidget toys to relieve stress or increase your focus, cups from when you needed coffee for a late-night study session that hadn't made it all the way to the dishwasher yet. (But it was on the sticky note! Right under the reminder to check your email.

Was that a thing people needed to remember to do?

He was utterly perplexed by the chaos you seemed so comfortable in. What he found most odd though, was how you never made any effort to fix it. He had been to your house three times thus far, trying to make a dent in the project that would take at least another week and each time, your room was the same. He even offered to help you organize (For his own sanity) but you turned him down, claiming you liked it how it was.

"How could anyone possibly like studying like this?" he questioned.

You shrugged. "I find having a pristine desk makes me uncomfortable, like I'm not actually doing work in a space I can relax in," you explained. "Plus, research shows environments like this increase brain productivity."

Damian wasn't sure if he believed that for a single second. But you clearly seemed to.

"But it's so messy," he muttered, motioning to your desk, so covered in God knows what that he couldn't even see what color the wood was.

"It's disorganized, not messy," you retorted. "And I know where everything is. Pencil sharper is by the white out because I use both rarely, erasers are where all the pencils are because I stab the led into them when I'm bored, highlighters are the ruler, which is.... under the syllabus I printed at the start of the year."

You pointed at everything as you said it and he slowly came to the realization that you weren't lying when you said you weren't messy. You kind of, in some weird way, had a system that worked.

Still, it felt uncomfortable for him. For a while. He'd watch you chew on your pencil and reach for tape that came from he didn't even know where, seemingly materializing things out of thin air. You barely even sat in the chair, he realized. He was always the one sitting in it, watching you sit or lay on the floor.

The only time Damian was ever on the floor was when Titus knocked him down or he got beat by his brothers during sparring. (Not that it ever happened..psh, no, don't be absurd.)

He slowly got a bit more accustomed to your room, even starting to find a bit of comfort whenever he stepped into it. It was welcoming, in a way, he'd come to think. When had that happened?

"Aren't you supposed to leave by eight?" you asked him, stretching your arms over your head as you sat on the floor across from him.

Damian frowned, looking at the time. He realized it was already 7:55. Had it already been four hours? It seemed like he just sat down on your rug, which, was surprisingly comfortable.

He hated to admit how much more productive he felt sitting on the floor than at a desk. "Uh, yes, right," he nodded, standing up and stretching as well. "I think we can probably get this finished by Tuesday," he added, feeling a weird pang of disappointment by the thought.

You nodded. "Alright, I'll see you tomorrow at four, then," you told him, watching as he packed up his books neatly, the pages fitting back in the nice folder perfectly. "Unless you wanna stay," you suddenly found yourself offering. "For dinner, I mean. If...if you want to. No pressure."

Damian paused, caught off guard by invitation. He stared at you for a few minutes, lips parting but words not leaving his mouth. Dinner? That was probably going to last at least an hour or two. Longer if your parents were the kind to serve dessert or chat a lot. He might not get home until ten or later.

"Sure," he agreed abruptly, though logically he knew he should refuse. He was supposed to be asleep by nine so he could get some rest before patrol. "I'd love to stay for dinner," he remarked, setting his bag back down for what wasn't one or two hours like planned, but four and a half.

How he would explain getting home past midnight to his father, he wasn't sure yet. But he'd find a reasonable excuse. After all, his dad was the one who told him to find normal friends and he was just doing what he asked.

...You were just his friend, right?

[maeintree]

the way harvey just unwinds the second he’s in your arms, the weight of the day slipping off his shoulders because you’re there. he doesn’t even have to say anything—he just melts, letting you kiss away the tension like it’s the most natural thing in the world. and that little sigh he lets out when you kiss his forehead?? pure allegiance and devotion!!!!!! he’s so in love with you it’s ridiculous. 🥲

he doesn’t need to be harvey specter, top closer, when he’s home—he just needs to be yours. and you take such good care of him, like it’s second nature, like loving him is the easiest thing you’ve ever done. (because it is..)

also the way he gets just a little needy at the end?? “only if you stay right here” HELLO?? he’s so used to the chaos of his work, the pressure, the endless expectations, but you? you’re his peace. and he never wants to be without that. without you.

the moment you hear the front door shut, you know.

it’s not a slam, not careless, just heavy. exhausted. like the weight of the world is in his briefcase, on his shoulders, in every step he takes through the penthouse.

you close the book you weren’t really reading, stretching as you get up from the couch. by the time you reach the entryway, he’s already shrugging off his suit jacket, movements slow and tired. he barely even looks up as he drapes it over the back of a chair, fingers reaching for his tie like even loosening it is too much effort.

“harvey,” you say, soft, careful.

he sighs, finally lifting his head. the moment he sees you, something in him shifts—just slightly. like the first hint of relief after a long day. but there’s still tension in the set of his shoulders, in the crease between his brows.

“rough day?” you ask, already knowing the answer.

he huffs a quiet laugh, but there’s no humor in it. “you could say that.”

you step closer, gently pushing his hands away from his tie and undoing it yourself. he lets you, his hands dropping to your waist instead, thumbs brushing absentminded circles against your hips.

“wanna talk about it?” you murmur, carefully undoing the knot and slipping the silk from his collar.

he shakes his head. “not right now.”

“okay,” you say, running your fingers over the first few buttons of his dress shirt, undoing them without a second thought. “what do you need, then? shower? drink? food?”

he exhales slowly, eyes closing for a moment as he leans into your touch. “just you.”

your chest tightens. you nod, taking his hand and leading him to the couch. the moment he sits, he sighs, leaning back like even holding himself upright took more effort than he had left.

without a word, you settle beside him, pulling him into you. he doesn’t resist. he never does. he shifts, head resting against your chest, arms slipping around your waist like he’s anchoring himself to you.

for a while, he just breathes. doesn’t say anything. doesn’t move.

you run your fingers through his hair, massaging his scalp lightly, feeling the tension start to ease from his body. he exhales, a slow, deep breath, pressing his forehead against your collarbone.

“you wanna hear something stupid?” he murmurs after a while, voice rough with exhaustion.

“always.”

he lets out another small huff of laughter, this one a little softer, a little lighter. “whole day, all i could think about was getting home to you.”

your heart clenches, warmth blooming in your chest. you press a kiss to his hair, lingering there for a moment.

“that’s not stupid, harvey.”

“feels like it is.”

“feels like love,” you correct gently.

he doesn’t argue. doesn’t tease. just tightens his hold on you, presses his face further into your neck, and sighs, the tension finally melting away.

you press a soft kiss to his temple, feeling the way his body slowly relaxes against yours. his grip on your waist loosens just enough to show he’s not holding himself together anymore—he doesn’t need to. not with you. 

you smile a little, shifting so you can kiss his forehead next, lingering there for a moment. his skin is warm, and he hums softly, barely audible, like he’s savoring the moment. 

“that feels nice,” he murmurs, voice quieter now, softer. 

“yeah?” you ask, brushing your lips over the crease between his brows, trying to smooth out the tension with every little kiss. 

he nods, eyes still closed, the last bit of stress in his features fading as you work your way down. a kiss to each cheek. to the tip of his nose. to the sharp line of his jaw. 

when you kiss the corner of his mouth, you feel the faintest hint of a smile forming against your lips. 

“i could get used to this,” he mutters, voice rough with exhaustion but laced with something else, something lighter. 

“you already do,” you tease, brushing your nose against his before pressing another slow kiss to his lips. 

he sighs into it, his grip on your waist tightening again, but this time, it’s not stress holding him together—it’s you. 

“you take such good care of me,” he murmurs when you pull away just enough to look at him, your fingers still carding through his hair. 

you press your forehead against his, letting your fingers trace lazy patterns over his shoulders. “somebody has to.” 

he chuckles, but it’s soft, sleepy. “lucky me.” 

you smile, kissing him again, slower this time, deeper. he lets you, lets himself melt into you completely, no walls, no defenses, just you and him in the quiet of your home. 

and when you finally pull back, his eyes are half-lidded, heavy with exhaustion but so, so full of love. 

“get some sleep, harvey,” you whisper, running your fingers through his hair one last time. 

he exhales, a slow, content breath. “only if you stay right here.” 

“always,” you promise. 

and with one last kiss, he closes his eyes, finally letting go, finally letting himself rest.