#he’s not even a good friend to harvey

[rvspecter]

nah what they did to mike’s character was so fucked up

like harvey’s character dethaws and he starts caring for people (esp mike. insanely so.) in a normal human way

but mike is blind or some shit because even at the point harvey thinks he (mike) hung the moon, he’s still like ‘YOU DIDNT CARE ABOUT ME YOU NEVER CARED ABOUT ME’

michael. where have you BEEN?

and harvey is fr just :( and it’s so sad omg

there's no way mike doesn't know harvey cares about him

it's like he selectively knows when it suits him (like in s7 when he *knew* harvey wud never fire him)

harvey RENTED MIKE'S ENTIRE APARTMENT UNDER THE NAME RICK SORKEN JUST IN CASE MIKE WANTED TO COME BACK - mike knew this - AND YET

it just kills me how clearly obvsly LOUDLY harvey loves mike (brotherly, platonically, romantically, all of the above) and SHOWS HIM yet mike still shits all over him

[wakeywakeyjakey]

I LOVE BruHarvey/TwoBats but I struggle to get into reading it because it feels like 90% of the fanfiction for this ship is Bruce trying to reform him, “fix” him, cure him, etc. It’s Bruce being like “it’s okay, even though half of you is an evil monster I still love the other half!” It’s definitely because I have DID myself but like—where’s the TwoBats where Bruce actually loves and accepts Harv? Is committed to ALL parts of him, not just the part he deems good? I’d much rather read about Bruce’s journey to understand and love him on a deeper level (+ that journey with mental health/DID awareness) than read about him trying to get rid of Harv once and for all.

[inamindfarfaraway]

I can perfectly picture a Batman: Wayne Family Adventures two-partner that properly introduces Harvey Dent, Two-Face, their relationships with Bruce and vice versa. But I can't draw in the slightest. So I'm going to script it and you'll have to use your imagination. It’s a little longer than the average WFA two-parter. But given how many thoughts and feelings I have about Harvey, I’d say it’s impressively concise. For me. If you like how I write Harvey, I recommend my fanfic spotlighting him as a teenager, compared to which I must warn you this script is positively fluffy. Read it on AO3 here! If you want to draw any of this, please tell me in advance and use the updated original post or the AO3 fic, not necessarily your reblog.

A Second Opinion

Part 1

[Panel one. Vertical rectangle, full screen. Nighttime. The exterior of an abandoned building that is notably more decrepit on the right side, Two-Face's current base of operations, from a distance and high angle. The Batmobile is parked outside. Bruce as Batman is seen on the rooftop from behind, striding stiffly toward the skylight. A speech bubble floats in the air above him.]

Barbara: Are you sure you don't want backup?

[Panel two. Barbara as Oracle watches with a frown of wary concern at her desk in the Clocktower.]

I know these confrontations are very personal for you -

[Panel three. Bruce leans over the skylight seen from below it, about to kick it in. His fists and jaw are clenched, teeth gritted and eyes narrowed sharply; even for Batman on a mission, he's in a bad mood.]

Bruce: I'm fine. I have him right where I want him.

[A speech bubble floats in the space below the panel.]

Harvey: I have him right where I want him!

[Panel four. Fade into a flashback. In stark contrast to the dull and dark blues, greys and blacks of the present scene, the flashback panels are full of light, saturated and warm colours. Harvey Dent stands at a round red table outside a café on a sunny day, beaming. He's a handsome, sturdy man with neat, short black hair, a semi-formal brown suit and wide brown eyes. He was seated, but has risen and slammed his palms down on the table in his enthusiuam. Slightly low angle, like the camera is on the table, and to the right so we have a better view of his left side. A gold wedding ring gleams on his finger. His introduction box reads: ‘Harvey Dent, District Attorney. Gotham’s best lawyer, technically and morally.’.]

And think of the implications! If the Salvatore Maroni can face justice, so can anyone.

[Panel five. He paces a little behind his chair, gesturing animatedly. Motion lines trail and curve around the other way behind him. His right side is now in profile. Same angle, but pulled back to see over the shoulder of a younger Bruce wearing a nondescript black shirt.]

If his empire can crumble, so can any criminal organization or corrupt institution, no matter how powerful. This trial could be a beacon of hope for Gotham. Proof that the law can actually help people, that the spirit of it is alive.

[Panel six. Opposite Harvey, Bruce is sitting comfortably. He has notable eyebags and less light in his eyes than Harvey, but smiles in earnest admiration.]

Bruce: I think you're right. Maroni used to own the city, but ever since you, Jim and Batman started working together...

[Panel seven. Side shot of both of them from Bruce's right and Harvey's left, showing them down to their legs. Bruce leans forward. Harvey has sat back down. In the background, their memories conjure a vision of Batman and Harvey shaking hands before the Bat-Signal. The figures' lower halves fade to translucent above and behind their real counterpart's heads. That Harvey is smiling too and the one leaning forward, while Batman's mouth is a flat line but his eyes are soft.]

things have changed more than I could have imagined.

Harvey: I just hope we can keep it up. Maybe in a few years, Gotham won't need a Batman.

[Panel eight. Close-up on the right half of Bruce's face, a narrow vertical box in the upper left section of the screen. His expression is of shock and vulnerability, although he isn’t offended. He has simply never considered being able to end his crusade before. Panel nine. A bigger square containing his entire face and taking up the rest of the screen.]

Bruce: Do you really believe that?

[Panel ten. Closer front shot of Harvey at eye-level. We can now see that he actually does have bags under his eyes. He's more pensive and his smile drops.]

Harvey: Yeah. I mean, Bats is a great guy. I don't want him to just disappear. But his methods...

[Panel eleven. Deep shot. Two petty crooks run through an alleyway at night while Batman looms behind them atop a ledge, a huge, hulking silhouette crouched animalistically with piercing white eyes and clawed fingers raised to pounce. The scene is somewhat abstracted to highlight the criminals' emotions. The alley walls seem to be closing in on them and Batman's curling cape flows into the surrounding darkness. Angle is above the very small-looking criminals, but below Batman such that his striking, soulless eyes glare right at the reader. Harvey's speech bubbles are in the top left and bottom right corners, framed by the blackness.]

fighting violence with violence and terror with terror... they're hardly ideal, are they?

[Panel eleven. Harvey places his right hand on Bruce's left arm in pride, who is too busy processing to return his smaller, softer smile of personal affection. Side shot from Harvey's left and Bruce's right that cuts them off at the torso.]

In my opinion, the work you're doing with the Wayne Foundation does better at lowering crime rates in the long run.

[Panel twelve. Over-the-shoulder shot again, Harvey's this time to show Bruce full of love, relaxing and leaning into the touch.]

Bruce: Well, in my opinion, you're a better person than me or Batman.

[His second speech bubble descends into the empty space.]

And I’d love to see the day Batman can retire.

[Panel thirteen and fourteen occupy different vertical halves of the screen and the same horizontal space for half of their lengths, the former higher, the second lower. The first shows Harvey from the right cut off at the thighs, in a courtroom, delivering some kind of unwritten passionate declaration; on his left and in the background, the defendant, the aforementioned crime boss Maroni in a nice black suit, holds an opaque bottle labelled as cough medicine and smirks viciously. The second is a close-up of Harvey’s head on the floor. Only the right half of his face is visible, the left turned away, and he is howling in unfathomable agony, tears streaming down his cheek. The stem of his speech bubble reaches down to the top of panel fifteen. This is a straightforward frontal shot of Bruce in the present. He stands tense and grim, poised to throw a Batarang with his right arm. Silver moonbeams shine through the broken skylight. Layered in front of the panel’s top border and behind Bruce, Harvey’s scream appears to ring through the cowl’s bat ears and extends continuously offscreen in extra large, blood-red lettering. The bubble fades around it to make it stand against the background.]

Harvey: ARGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Bruce: Two-Face.

[Panel sixteen. Same angle of Harvey and Two-Face. The left half of their face is ravaged by raw, pink chemical burn scars and has a bloodshot eye with burned lids; even their right eye is sunken and shadowed with a menacing glint; their hair is the same on the right, but bleached white, longer and wild on the left; they wear an angular, elegant suit divided vertically in alternating black and white. They’re smiling smugly, posture calm, confident and commanding. Their right hand aims a pistol at Bruce, and the camera. The other hand, bereft of a ring, holds their two-headed coin. Their introduction box reads: ‘Harvey Dent & Two-Face. All the drive. Fractional sanity. Half the morals, or less.’. The outlines of their speech bubbles are smooth as usual on the right and rough and scribbled on the left when both alters in the system are in relative cooperation - a dual consciousness referred to as ‘H/TF’ in the script - completely smooth when the still goodhearted, but deeply troubled Harvey is speaking alone, and completely irregular for the much more merciless, callous Two-Face personality alone.]

H/TF: Bats! Let us guess: you didn’t bring any backup because you have a self-righteous hero complex about us in particular?

[Panel seventeen. Closer frontal shot of Bruce scowling and hunching his shoulders in shameful concession.]

Two-Face: Good. Those Robins are nothing but trouble.

[Panel eighteen. Long rectangle panning down the room. Bruce and H/TF are in the background as H/TF gesture with their left arm to two men dressed like high-level businessmen in the foreground, tied to chairs with a gun pressed to each of their heads by H/TF's identical twin henchmen. The captives are bruised, cut and slumped in exhaustion.]

H/TF: Now, take one step toward us and the hostages get it. Don't go feeling sorry for them. They work for Oswald Cobblepot. His reform is fake -

H/TF and Bruce: Obviously.

H/TF: And they've already told us everything.

[Panel nineteen. Horizontal side shot from Bruce's left and H/TF's right, to frame the hostages between them.]

H/TF: But if you go after us, you'll lose your best lead on his criminal activities.

Bruce: And people will be dead.

H/TF: Yeah, whatever.

[Panel twenty. Close shot of H/TF from the left. They look left, contemplating their coin in their open hand. One face is corroded and blackened by acid, the other shiny and clean, both visible as it's drawn in a motion frame while spinning.]

You say that making our decisions based on chance is irrational and unhealthy, but believing in free will isn't all roses either. So many tough choices.

[Panel twenty-one is small box in the middle of the screen capturing the impact of the Batarang knocking the gun out of one of the henchmen's hand. H/TF's speech bubble floats in the space below it.]

There's never a win-win, is there?

[Panel twenty-two, a vertical rectangle. In the lower foreground and to the right, a gleeful H/TF bolt to the slight right of the camera, relishing both their escape and how unhappy their enemy is. In the background, Bruce restrains the armed henchman with a bolas while knocking the unarmed one out behind him with a backhanded blow. His cape billows with his rapid movement.]

At least the coin lets us be unpredictable!

[Panel twenty-three. Angle is essentially Bruce's POV. H/TF glance over their right shoulder, showing their unscarred features twisted in mockery, and sarcastically wave with their gun. They're just beyond the doorway.]

By the way, we're very good at getting two things done at once. You might wanna check your car.

[Panel twenty-four. Outside. Bruce's shadow falls from below the border diagonally over the Batmobile. Its tyres are slashed. Its fuel is leaking out into a puddle underneath it. In the next panel, we see him at eye height past the front end of the car. He has fallen to his knees, head hung.]

Bruce: Oracle? You were right. I need help.

[The black sheen of the Batmobile fades into a flat black background below. But then, within the darkness, floats a speech bubble.]

Barbara: You've already got it.

[Panel twenty-six. The first two sentences are in a bubble at the top, connected to the final sentence’s one dead in the middle. She's viewed from behind at a low angle looking up at her computer monitor. Her shoulders are assertively squared. Her security camera footage is split in two; Bruce and the crippled Batmobile are in the left window and H/TF's getaway car (also black on one side and white on the other) racing along a road in the right.]

We've been gathering intel. We know where Two-Face will strike next - and you know him as well as he knows you. Let's make a plan B.

Part 2

[Panel one. Distant establishing shot of a brightly lit black-tie gala in a vast, ornate hall, the tasteful decor dominated by white, light blues and silver. A caption informs us that this is 'The Cobblepot 'Charity' Gala'. Oswald Cobblepot is in the heart of the crowd, shaking hands with some official. Bruce Wayne is within earshot, but nearer the double doors. Panel two is a lower, tighter horizontal rectangle where Oswald and his guests are staring at the camera with tiny black dots for eyes in alarm at the doors slamming open. H/TF’s shadow falls over the floor. Panel three shows that Harvey and Two-Face have invited themselves, holding an assault rifle in both hands. Three smaller vertical panels on alternating sides of the screen show the doors being locked by pairs of Two-Face's minions in contrasting, complemetary outfits and wielding guns. The bird’s eye view of panel seven makes it clear that the guests are surrounded and trapped. Panel eight cuts back to H/TF.]

H/TF: Good evening, scum and enablers. We're -

[Panel nine takes us closer to focus on their - or rather, Harvey's - surprise.]

Harvey: Bruce? What are you doing here?

[Panel ten is a frontal shot of Bruce, like the camera's been reversed in the same position. His confusion is an act, but his concern is real.]

Bruce: I'm the richest man in Gotham and this is a high-society gala. What are you doing here?

[Panel eleven. Side shot that doesn’t show the scarring. Harvey lowers the gun, eyes softening as Bruce reaches out to him.]

I thought we agreed that you still needed treatment.

Harvey: I…

[Panel twelve. Frontal short. Remembering his mission, Harvey loses a degree of control and the two embittered alters lightly push Bruce away and point the gun straight ahead at Oswald with a glare. Motion lines trail from their arm.]

H/TF: That doesn’t matter! What matters is taking down the Penguin!

[Panel thirteen. Oswald presses a hand to his chest, somehow at once mortified and supercilious. You can hear the melodramatic sad violin. Beside him, his associates are cowering and aghast.]

Oswald: Why, everyone knows that I’m reformed. Attacking me when I’m doing good just proves how far you’ve fallen.

[Panel fourteen. H/TF snap at him furiously, and their speech bubble is large, spiky (still with the different texturing) and has a red outline for emphasis. Their eyes are stylized as flames; their right eye’s flame is orange and the left’s blue. Bruce is giving Oswald an intense sidelong glare. His lettering is smaller and his bubble's outline dashed to indicate that he's speaking under his breath.]

H/TF: SHUT UP!

Bruce: Shut up.

[Panel fifteen. Wide low angle shot up into the shadowy rafters. Damian, Dick and Tim are hiding in their vigilante identities and watching the scene below intently, at the ready. Their speech bubbles are dashed as they’re whispering. Damian is tense like a coiled spring, hand is on the hilt of his sword. Dick’s facial expression is blatantly disdainful of the villain in question, but his position and body language are calmer. Tim is all business.]

Damian: Shouldn’t we -

Tim: Not until the signal, remember? We don’t want to escalate and endanger the civilians.

[Panel sixteen. Close-up profile shot of Dick.]

Dick: Yeah, I hate Two-Face, but Bruce has got through to Harvey before.

[Panel seventeen. H/TF aim their gun with their right hand as their left reaches into their pocket to take out their coin. Their jaw is tight in composed ire. Diagonal angle to show Bruce on their right, overlaid by the gun. HT/F's speech bubble is near their head, but Harvey's is under the panel-dividing horizontal line of the gun.]

H/TF: You have the right to remain silent, forever.

Harvey: Bruce, get out of here.

[Panel eighteen, a square. Bruce is alone in the frame. He folds his arms, Batman's stern, steely presence creeping into his expression and posture.]

Bruce: Whatever you're willing to do to those people, you can do to me.

[Panel ninteen. Same composition with H/TF. They frown, the unscarred features looking regretful while the scarred ones look annoyed and disdainful.]

H/TF: Fine. Just stay out of our way.

[Panel twenty. Close up as they flip their coin. We get the blurring motion displaying both sides again. The next panel is a repeat shot where Bruce’s right hand snatches the coin in midair.]

H/TF: HEY! Give it back!

[Panel twenty-one. Extreme close-up, narrow horizontal parallelogram focused on Bruce's defiant stare. His speech bubble floats close underneath.]

Bruce: No.

[Panel twenty-two. He holds the coin out of reach. The camera is angled over and to the side of Bruce's left shoulder, to put as much visual distance between his outstretched right hand and H/TF as possible, Bruce's body in between them. H/TF’s left hand is balled into fist around the lowered gun while their right gestures like they’re arguing a case in a courtroom. They look resentful, but also coldly resigned. The speech bubbles can extend out of the panel. In the backgroud, some of the guests are depicted as simplified, featureless figures.]

H/TF: They aren’t worth sticking your neck out for. Nobody in Gotham is -

Harvey: I learned that the hard way.

Bruce: And I’ve learned otherwise. This won’t make things better, Harvey.

[Panel twenty-three. Two-Face fixes the gun on Bruce with a sadistic, unhinged snarl that’s distinctly his own.]

Two-Face: Listen, Wayne, I don’t care for you a bit. Give us our coin back or I’ll -

[Panel twenty-four. Bruce raises an eyebrow.]

Bruce: But what if it’s good heads?

[Panel twenty-five. Two-Face freezes. A ‘Twitch’ sound effect is at the corner of his right eye. Panel twenty-seven. A henchman aims his own gun with nervous eagerness.]

Henchman: I'll get your coin for you, boss!

[Panel twenty-six. The vigilantes leap down from the rafters. Dick's already thrown a Wingding to disarm him that flies downward rotating and seems to cut the shape of the panel, which has a tapering lower end.]

Dick: No!

[Large red 'BANG!' sound effect between panels. Panel twenty-seven is a small box in the middle of the screen showing the Wingding knocking the smoking gun away a split-second too late. Panel twenty-eight. Bruce and Harvey in the background and the bullet in the foreground are centred. Harvey slams into Bruce and knocks him down with his full weight, briefly putting himself in the path of the bullet.]

Harvey: Bruce!

[Panel twenty-nine. Long, vertical rectangle panning down from above the vigilantes standing in dramatic heroic landing poses at the top of the frame, wearing varyingly emotive expressions of shock, to Bruce lying propped up by his elbow and Harvey on his hands and knees at the bottom. The discarded assault rifle hits the floor between Harvey and the vigilantes with a 'Clatter' sound effect in yellow, uneven text. The coin slips out of Bruce's hand with a motion line to rest between him and Harvey. Panel thirty. Angle at eye level with Bruce and Harvey. Bruce sits up. He stares at Harvey with shining eyes and the beginnings of a smile as he processes what just happened, and what didn’t precede it.]

Bruce: You saved my life.

[Panel thirty-one. Angle is behind Bruce’s head. Harvey avoids eye contact, showing Bruce his unscarred profile. He’s solemn and though he too has a relieved hint of a smile, it doesn’t reach his eyes.]

Harvey: You never stop trying to save me. It was the least I could do.

[Panel thirty-two. Harvey’s POV. Low angle, tilted up at Bruce on his feet, offering his hand to help him up. We can tell that it’s Harvey’s perspective with both eyes because the left half of the image is dim and blurry due to the damage the acid did to his left eye. The speech bubbles are exclusively on the right.]

Bruce: It isn’t too late, Harvey. You can still heal. You can get better, be better.

[Panel thirty-three. Close-up on the right half of Harvey’s face, a narrow vertical box in the upper left section of the screen. His expression is of tentative, wary hope and raw vulnerability. He has wanted to end his crusade throughout its duration, but never been able to. Panel thirty-four. A bigger square containing his entire face and taking up the rest of the screen.]

Harvey: Do you really believe that?

[Panel thirty-five. Side shot that now only shows the side shot of Harvey’s face. Bruce kneels down be closer to eye level with him.]

Bruce: Yes. Always, I’ve been where you are. Feeling like you can never be more than all your pain and anger. But if you want a second opinion, I think you’re a better person than you know.

[Panel thirty-four. A square in the middle of the screen. Harvey’s right hand reaches out to Bruce’s waiting one, but lingers, tense and trembling, above the coin. Panel thirty-five. Vertical rectangle. Harvey shrinks in on himself, hunched over with his face buried in his arms and hands clutching his hair; perhaps he doesn’t trust himself not to pick up the coin and give Two-Face a means to make harmful decisions, just can’t make another choice of his own or both. Around him blackness with spiky, scribbled inner edges consume the screen like reality is fracturing or dissolving, or some all-consuming destructive force is coming for him.]

Harvey: Just… just take us to Arkham. We deserve it. We need help.

[The black extends, replacing the white background. But then, within the darkness, floats a speech bubble.]

Bruce: You’ve already got it.

[Fade into panel thirty-six. Horizontal rectangle. Distant, high angle. The black lightens to purple and becomes the night sky, which is warming to pink at the first moment of dawn. Harvey is handcuffed, about to enter a police car on his right. A cop is escorting him. However, Bruce has his left arm around his shoulders and they’re both in relatively good moods, similar to how they were in the flashback.]

Harvey: When did you get so optimistic, Mr Gothic McBrooding?

Bruce: Someone has to be. And hey, I had a good teacher.

[my-thoughts-and-junk]

'yandere sebastian' 'yandere abigail' 'yandere wizard' give me yandere clint 🖐✊🖐✊

[katierosefun]

okay well in my interpretation of suits, harvey never confesses his feelings to mike ever because a) look at that man. he's emotionally stunted in so many ways, and b) his hatred of affairs and cheating. something something he won't ever tell mike anything so long as mike's dating/married to rachel. he'll explode. suffer in silence forever

[riddlebanshee]

Back on my bullshit 🙏

[squidprinceofwinterfell]

One of my least favorite tropes is when a character says “I’ve never liked/always hated you” to a villainous character but they used to bully that character before they turned bad. And for some reason neither character brings this up during the scene.

[shekeepsmeworms]

Had some wine feeling good made a really shitty bowl in ceramics class this morning that I’m really worried has a bunch of air holes in it and had a really crappy therapy session where I didn’t talk too much but was honest about some other stuff which is good overall I guess but now I’m doing drunk crochet and watching the Duggar family documentary and probably going to stop watching soon once they start talking about the awful stuff but yeah day in the life of a woman doing her best I guess

[found--family]

Helluva name for an ep! I'm thinking it's a trifecta: 

Steph dealing with her father - again, though hopefully less heartbreaking than last time; maybe something happens and he comes around to her way of thinking ie. her mom needs professional help. (I hope Steph gets someone on her side) 

Duela's mom visits her for her birthday - she got out of prison, maybe escaped? Or maybe Duela goes to visit her for her birthday. Either way, Duela's mom reveals The Joker is not her father. (I'm still on the Duela Dent train but I don't know if they'll reveal that as well; if Duela's father is fugue!Dent, her mom might leave clues for her to figure it out for herself which would mean a second reveal maybe at the end of the season, maybe just before or after Harvey's Two-Face incident leaving a cliffhanger for season 2.) 

Harvey encounters his father. The way it's worded - 'collision course' - is intriguing. Will he encounter fugue!father? Will fugue!Harvey encounter his father? Did he think his father was dead? We've only had scraps of his past and whatever the comics say, GK is doing it's own thing so who knows what could happen. If his father is alive and it's a surprise maybe fugue!Harvey will kill him? But there's still the possibility that fugue!father is in league with the owls somehow (how else would they know about the piano trigger? Unless fugue!Harvey himself gave it to them..) 

I love the crew's passion for creating this story! They care about good storytelling, they care about the details, they want to entertain and surprise us! They're taking the best bits of the DCU and giving us something new! I'm very excited for the possibilites of this ep. This story continues to keep me guessing, has me caring about the characters, and keeps me invested in how things will unfold. 

[ladyredmoon13]

DCXDP prompt

Summer of change.

Maddie Fenton was many things, and a patient mother of two was only one of them. Here lately, however, Maddie found her patience wearing thin with their youngest child. Now she loved Danny. He was her son, after all, but here lately, his actions and overall dismissive attitude towards everything from his grades to his responsibilities was starting to get to her.

She and Jack had tried everything they could think of to try and get Danny to behave and reconsiderhis actions. From taking away his phone, restricting time with his friends, to full-on grounding him. Nothing seemed to work. They were running out of options, but there was one last thing she wanted to try before, even considering bringing up the suggestion of military school to her husband.

"Hey Jack?" She called to her husband from the living room." Yeah, Madds?" He called back from his position over the kitchen table as he tried to fix the trigger on their latest invention. Hoping that this will be what they'll need to finally catch that ectoplasmic nuisance of a ghost boy.

"Your cousin, the one from Gotham; the one you introduced me to at our wedding. He's a cop, right?"

-------------------------------------------------------

Detective Harvey Bullock was a man of little patience and even less tolerance to the kind of nonsense that the usual scum of Gotham City drummed up.

The only times he could ever really recall ever having more patience and tolerance than a saint was when he was growing up with his favorite cousin. So when said favorite cousin called him up out of the blue, asking for a favor, Bullock did little else, then say, "Sure thing," and " anything for you, little Jacky.'

That was how he got roped into looking after his cousins son for the summer. At first, he was hesitant. Asking Jack if he was sure he wanted to do that. After all, he didn't really have much experience with kids( and no, the Bats kids don't count).

But when Jack started telling him about all the trouble his kid was getting into. The arguments, the mysterious bruises, the skipping school, etc. The boy was on the start of a one-way street down to a bad place, and Bullock didn't like it. So he sucked it up and asked his cousin when he could send him.

Now Harvey knew he wasn't a good role model, that Gotham wasn't the safest place for any saine parent to raise a child, let alone send one here; but now that he was told what was going on with Danny. Bullock found himself determined to get the teen to turn over a new leaf. "Who knows," he thought to himself hopefully, "maybe Gotham was the perfect place for him to do it?"

[jwnzlvr]

yes! sit on it!!!

kinktober 2024 !! day five : face sitting

pairing : best friend!sim jake x fem!reader

summary : he’s a munch. thee pussy eater.

wc : 450+

warnings : SMUT (mdni), oral sex (fem receiving), squirting, mentions of (accidentally?) suffocating this man, faceRIDING not proofread

notes : a tad bit later than usual bc my wifi went out but yall we are GETTING THROUGH IT. also i have half an hr to shit this drabble out but TMRWWWW NANAMI FIC YEAHHHHH and yes the title is a steve harvey reference good night yall

jake was never one to back down from a challenge. whether it be fighting his best friends for a pack of ramen he could’ve easily bought himself, to a bet that he couldn’t make you squirt while sitting on his face. he was not about to back down.

“shit! slow- slow down!” you cried out as you pulled on jake’s hair. he was eating you like a man starved, his tongue gliding between your folds like it was nothing. maybe you should’ve shut up earlier.

“oh please, you’d probably pass out if a girl sat on your face. i bet you couldn’t even make a girl cum, let alone squirt on your face.”

your words repeated in his head the whole time. they were his motivation, his reason for going to the lengths of doing this. he definitely took it personal this time. and now he was absolutely determined to make you cum, at the very least.

his tongue toyed with your clit, making you grip his roots a bit harder. he looked up at you with those same puppy eyes, a proud smile on his face while he ate you up. “you little shit…” you muttered through a small moan. you knew he was getting off on this. on winning.

you decided revenge would be real nice. you began to grind your pussy on his face, his sharp nose grinding against the sensitive bud. your hand in his hair was holding him from there. you were quite literally riding this man’s face. a smug smile was on your face as you looked down at him with lazy eyes.

but did you really think that would phase him?

he could almost laugh. that is, if he wasn’t too busy eating your pussy up. he let you use his face to get off. it’s as if you wanted to help him win that bet. he could feel you leaking more and more, the juices smearing on his face.

he wrapped his arms around your thighs and held you still over his mouth. his tongue began to explore every nook and cranny, traveling through every part of you. with a few bold licks to your clit and a small nip of it, your release was brought upon you.

“fuck!!” you cried out as your pussy gushed into jake’s face. he screwed his eyes shut as your release sprayed all over him, making him grin in satisfaction. he went ahead and cleaned you up with his tongue, making you immediately move away from him. you were a bit overstimulated now.

he sat up and wiped his mouth with his forearm. he had a smug smirk on his face, his expression almost irritating.

“i win.”

➯ kinktober 2024 m.list

➯ taglist : @d-dilemma (comment or msg to be added !)

[clockwayswrites]

Bird Cuddles Part 26ish

Masterpost

This is hardly a full scene, though a stopping point. But I'm feeling positively dismal today so wanted to share something. Enjoy, hopefully!

-

Bruce sighed.

It was all that he could do when his two oldest were standing in front of him, both trying to laugh as quietly as possible. Dick’s fist was basically stuffed in his mouth to keep quiet where as Jason was using sheer force of will (and a good amount of smugness) to stay quiet.

“Be nice,” Bruce mouthed silently.

“No.” Jason mouthed back gleefully.

Bruce had the distinct urge to bury his face into the soft wings and simply ignore his sons even being in the room with him. He didn’t give into that urge because he was sure if he did, neither would ever let him live it down. Even as he was thinking that, Dick pulled out his cellphone and snapped a photo.

Bruce felt his phone vibrate a moment later.

He sighed again.

Luckily, Cass swept in a moment later (apparently it was to be a full house at dinner), kissed Bruce lightly on his temple, and went over to her brothers. She looked at Dick’s phone, nodded at the picture, and then took each of the boy’s hands and led them out of the room.

Jason left with one last smirk, but at least the door was closed behind them with a definitive latch.

Bruce still waited a long moment before he picked up his phone and unlocked it.

The picture certainly looked incriminating.

When Danny had fallen asleep, likely exhausted from soothing the boys, the panic attack, and the general drama of the day, he had nodded off sitting upright. When the boys had left, Damian had tasked Bruce with ‘seeing it that Dr. Fenton stayed well’. It was shortly after that when Danny had started shifting, as if trying to get comfortable with the wings, and ended up tilting over.

Once he had settled, Danny had ended up curled across Bruce’s lap with his knees on one side of Bruce and his head on the other. One of the wings was tucked up against Bruce’s chest while the other wing, limp with sleep, stretched out along Bruce’s leg and down to the floor.

Bruce ran his fingers lightly over the white feathers. He wasn’t sure if it was because of his horde of children, but Bruce was completely unbothered by having someone nap on him. The thing that he was bothered by, despite his best efforts to separate himself from the nightlife, is how comfortable he was about that someone being Danny.

Really, there was relatively little that they knew about Danny. The biggest point in Danny’s favor was that Lucius trusted Danny—trusted Danny enough to consider bring Danny in to work with the Bats. The biggest point against Danny were the same wings that Bruce was running his fingers over.

Not that Bruce would ever judge someone negatively for being a meta. Almost all of Bruce’s closest friends were or became metas, after all, even if some of them were now also rogues. The meta status was almost easy to handle. The concerning part were all of the little details that Danny had hinted at about how he had become a meta: neglectful parents, a lab accident at a young age, extensive scaring. Bruce touched the faint Lichtenberg scars lightly. It made Bruce worry about what had triggered the change in Danny. After all, some of Bruce’s closest friends where now also rogues.

It was unfair to compare Danny to Harvey.

It was hard not to.

The fact that it was hard not to compare Danny to Harvey was concerning in itself. Bruce’s track record in the people that he found alluring was far from ideal. It felt almost like dooming Danny simply by the fact that Bruce had taken note of him. Already Danny was getting caught up in the turmoil of their lives and suffering for it.

That was perhaps too harsh. Danny had handled himself more than admirably, wings and all. Danny’s actions made sure that the boys had time to get to the safe room, stayed safe once there, and that the assault ended with minimal bloodshed. Bruce just wished that the change it caused hadn’t left Danny in a state of panic.

Bruce sighed. Maybe he had to remember that Danny wasn’t someone that Bruce was responsible for; Danny was a competent adult who could clearly protect himself from at least lower level threats. It wasn’t fair for Bruce to try and make decisions for Danny, even in an effort to protect him from the craziness of being near the Wayne family.

[demonic0angel]

Inmate Dan part 2 where he meets the other orange jumpsuit "friends" in Arkham Asylum?

Part 1, part 3

"Ooh, Wraith!" Harley called, pointing to Jonathan. "That's Scarecrow! We call 'em Johnny!"

"No, you don't," he spat. "What're you doing here, Harley?"

"That's Dr. Quinzel to you, Dr. Crane!" Harley said faux-pompously, sticking out her tongue.

Wraith paused and his eyes lit up. "Wait, Dr. Quinzel? Youngest psychiatrist in the tri-state area? And Dr. Crane? Professor at Gotham University?"

Ivy leaned closer to Wraith and hissed a warning, "Stay away from him. He once drove two inmates to suicide only by speaking. He's dangerous."

Wraith grinned and his teeth flashed with fangs as he stared at Jonathan with interest. "Hello, Doctor," Wraith said, his deep voice almost a purr, "Could I get an autograph, please?”

Jonathan stared at him cooly and then he nodded once, although he looked slightly confused.

Wraith slipped a hand inside of himself, making everyone around him pause in shock as he then pulled out a textbook and a pen. He handed it to Jonathan, who stared at the textbook with a strange look before signing it. As Wraith placed it back inside of himself, he pulled out another book and let Harley sign it.

Delightedly, she realized that it was a book that she published.

“You’re a meta,” Jonathan said. “You seem powerful, so why didn’t you escape? How come you were captured?”

Wraith shrugged with a light smile. “My sister told me to relax and enjoy myself here. She also told me to explore what I want. I heard that there was a particularly hated criminal in here, so I wanted to see what the fuss was all about, so I let myself be captured.” He sighed a little. “My little birdie also personally handcuffed me, so I couldn’t get out.”

Harley tilted her head, catching onto a piece of information. “Who was it that you were interested in?”

“Someone named Clown? Jester? No, it was….”

“Joker,” everyone besides Wraith muttered disdainfully. They were all criminals who did violent things, but no one was as vile as the Joker.

Wraith hummed and nodded. “Yes, him. I wanted to see what he looked like. Thank you for signing the book, Dr. Quinzel, Dr. Crane. My sister is a huge fan and she’s studying psychiatry right now.”

Both Jonathan and Harley smiled. “That’s good!” Harley squealed. “Tell her that I’m rooting for her!”

Wraith nodded with a small, genuine smile, and Harley then dragged him around to introduce him to the other inmates, Ivy following behind as a silent guard.

He was surprisingly civil. Wraith treated Waylon with no fear or disgust despite his appearance, chatted calmly about law with Harvey (since his sister also studied law. She seemed to be a sort of genius), exchanged riddles and puzzles with Edwin, and was generally pleasant and even friendly to the other inmates.

However, he couldn’t hide his true nature to Harley. Wraith didn't allow anyone to touch him unless he initiated it. Although he seemed calm and collected, he was unable to hide his disgust and hatred of the general population. It seemed as though in general, he hated everyone around him. He had no fear of the guards and even seemed amused by the more frightening prisoners of Arkham Asylum. Although he was polite, it was clear that he hated them all, even Harley and Ivy.

Harley was utterly fascinated.

Eventually, after exploring the yard where the many inmates were lingering around, Wraith asked, “Where’s the Joker?”

Ivy answered, “He’s in solitude. He’s too dangerous to be around.”

Wraith frowned. “Where’s that?”

Harley giggled and said, “You wanna see him that badly? Maybe I’ll show you!” She wanted to see more of Wraith’s reactions, to study him like a bug. She also wanted to see what it would take to make Wraith enjoy her and Ivy’s presences.

“Harley!” Ivy scolded. “I don’t want you around him anymore! He’s a hazard to your safety and health!”

“It’s fineeee,” Harley said, dancing around her playfully, “I can take it! I just wanna show Wraith what he looks like! I promise not to fall for Mr. J anymore! Pleaseee, Ivy?”

In the end, Ivy relented and they snuck to the area of the asylum where the Joker stayed.

They dodged past the lazy guards and eventually, they were in front of the Joker’s cell. Harley stepped in front of his cage, suppressing a shiver as she looked inside.

There he was, her worst nightmare, wrapped up in a straitjacket and already watching her with a cold, cold gaze and a wide smile.

Why had she done this again?

The Joker laughed when she saw her. “Harley!” He crooned. “Here to release me? I knew you’d come around.”

This time, Harley couldn’t suppress the full shudder. “No thanks!” She snapped. “I’m not your lil doll anymore! You can’t order me around!”

The Joker’s friendly expression immediately twisted into a glare as he snarled. “I made you! And I can break you. You’re nothing but a harlequin, a toy for me to do what I want with! You’re nothing without me!”

Ivy bristled and she moved to pull back Harley, who was almost in tears, when Wraith moved first. He phased through the metal doors and with one casual click of bones breaking, the Joker laid slumped into his cell, quieted forever.

Wraith stepped back out and both Ivy and Harley scrambled to look back inside, recognizing the sound of a neck snapping, but unable to comprehend how easily it took.

Harley sputtered, “W-W-What?!”

Wraith shrugged.

“He was annoying. And I hate clowns.”

[sheep-from-rad]

How would the batfamily react if they found out that the singer/influencer reader was dating one of the villains?, imagine the reader has friends with benefits from the villains

(What kind of jokes do you like?)

Batman is so scary, even bullets are afraid to hit him. That's why they aimed for his parents. (sorry)

anon 🦌

Note: 🦌anon please send more jokes. After the Solmare announcement regarding the Obey me series, I am one push away from drinking every wine in my fridge.I’m gonna need more jokes (˃̣̣̥ᯅ˂̣̣̥) I don't give permission to have my fics posted to other sites, copied, or fed to AI. Thank you.

Masterlist 

divider by: @strangergraphics-archive and @strangergraphics. Please do support them ♡

You heard that? That’s the collective sign of every Batfamily member sighing in disappointment and collective glare towards Bruce. Like father like child, of all genes to be inherit you inherited his taste (ಠ_ಠ). Getting entangled with a villain is not something new in the Batfamily because they are either related to one (Cassandra, Stephanie, Damian) or romantically involved with one (Bruce with Talia, Poison Ivy, Catwoman and sometimes Harley. Dick with Catwoman II. And Jason with… you know what let’s not talk about Talia and Jason. That one is weird on all levels). 

If you’re romantically involved with someone who does not know Batman’s real identity then it’s not much of a problem. The family is just going to visit said enemy and scar them for the rest of their mortal life. It will be so bad they will just quit being a villain and leave Gotham all together. If you’re romantically involved with someone who knows Batman’s real identity, then it will be a chaotic event. Bruce is already fighting villains and now he’s fighting his blood pressure too. 

Riddler would be so smug about it. He would rub it in every Batfamily member’s face and would constantly drop your name in fights like ‘How would they react if you hurt me?’ or ‘Oh they will be mad if I come back bruised!’. Riddler would be so insufferable like the madman he is. If you’re dating Harvey Dent, you’re technically dating two persons (in most media depictions, Harvey is the same age as Bruce so let’s go with that one). His incorruptible part is basically filling every space that Bruce neglected to fill. He’ll teach you about legals and laws, tell you stories about their days and he protects you from those who dare to come close. His corrupted part, Two face, is kind of mean. He will never miss the chance to remind you of the potential parental issues you have. 

Headcanon that Harley will make it her mini mission to keep you away from Joker because let’s face it, Joker will not love you. He will only use you and break you like how he did to Harley. 

Honestly, it doesn’t matter if the relationship you have is good or bad. To the family it’s a parasite that needs to be terminated immediately before it grows. You’re grounded. You’re not allowed to go out alone. If you don’t live in the estate anymore, you will just randomly find your apartment sold to someone else and you’ll be taken back to the estate. No metahumans in Gotham rule but Damian already has the permission from Bruce to have the Titans stay for a while as reinforcements. Even Jason is patrolling more and everyday now he will make a report to the estate. 

During those days they were full on babying you to the point of infantilization. They’ll give you ‘the talk’ especially if you’re in a friends with benefits relationship with a villain and sometimes they’ll go so far into showing you every other person they had been with. They are not above poisoning the relationship too. They’ll show you expertly doctored photos showing their ‘infidelity’. Guilt trip you into reading old cases and gaslight you. You’re not in love with them, you were just manipulated into thinking that you are. 

But of course, what is a Wayne if not stubborn? Month of being grounded and being in heavy watch and you’re done. You already have their shifts memorized down to who checks on you at night. After hours once you’re certain that everyone is now asleep or busy on their patrols (or finished checking your room), you start acting out the plan of running away. You passed each security detail without triggering them, passed every room without alerting anyone, and passed Titus without waking him up. However before you can even reached the doorknob, you heard Dick and Jason behind you:

“Looks like someone took lessons from Catwoman” 

“You know we saw your lover today. We were going to let them go but I guess no one’s picking you up anymore” 

The next time you wake up, you are greeted by the fresh warm breeze and the sound of water hitting the shore. As you descended down the stairs, news about a villain going missing was on the headlines along with the date on the screen saying ‘Thursday’. It has been three days since you got caught by Jason and Dick and Tim just entered the door carrying take outs from Mad Yak cafe. You’re in Happy Harbor, far away from Gotham and your lover is missing. Was the no kill rule violated? You can only pray it’s not.

[kinda-super-hot]

I Want More. (3)

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, more coming soon

Pairing: Harvey Specter x F!Lawyer!Reader - friends to enemies to lovers <3

Part 3 Summary: Y/n joins Mike and Harvey when they go to see a client. The client flirts with Y/n, and she makes the best of it, hopefully landing some clients. Harvey is not happy.

Warnings: Reflecting on past relationship, some yelling

Word Count: 2570

A/N: Thank ya'll so much for the support! The more you comment and like, the faster I write. Love ya'll enjoy!

I’m typing away an email when my intercom goes off. “(Y/n), Harvey needs you in his office.” Donna’s voice rings out and I feel nauseous.

               “Ok, thanks, Donna.” Wait. “Donna?”

               “What’s up?” She asks in a sing-song voice, and I can hear her fingers click-clacking against her keyboard.

               “How long has the intercom been on?” The click-clacking stops. I let out an incredulous laugh, “Have you been listening this whole time?” The intercom beeps and I know it’s been shut off, probably for the first time since I’ve been here.

               I smile and stand from my desk, throwing on the black blazer that was previously sitting on the back of my chair. There’s a pastel pink handkerchief tucked in the breast pocket that matches my blouse.. that also matches Harvey’s tie. What a weird coincidence.

               I walk the short distance from my office to Donna’s desk. “Good morning!” She hums all too happily at me. I give her a raised brow and cross my arms. “It’s nothing personal, I hear all around here. That’s why I’m so good at what I do. I’m Donna.” She flicks her hands in the air with flair.

               “Of course.” I smile at her mischievously. “If you hear all around here, Donna, what have people been saying about me?” I’ve been wondering, but had no way of finding out, until now.

               “Well, obviously I’ve heard the she’s smoking comment more times than I can count.” She laughs. “Louis thinks your one joke away from going to dinner with him.”

               “Shoot, I don’t want to give him the wrong impression.” I scold myself and bite my lip.

               “What, you don’t date anyone in the office?” She questions, but it’s off. Her tone, something about it… I lift my eyes to meet hers and she has a devious smile.

               “You know.” I exhale and lean on the desk. “God, does everyone know?!” I whisper yell at her. I do a quick scan of my surroundings, and I don’t see anyone looking. I hesitantly take a quick peek into Harvey’s office.

I pause my frantic behavior when I see him. He’s sitting at his desk on the phone and Mike is on the couch. I can tell he’s charming whoever is on the other side of the phone, because even though they can’t see him, he has his prince-like smile on him. My heart swells for him.

“That’s how I know,” Donna whispers in my ear. I jump, I didn’t even see her get up. She gives me a pointed look. “Yesterday, I saw you look at him when you two were first ‘meeting’” she gives air quotes, “and I could see the way you look at him. You couldn’t keep your eyes off-”

“His puppy dog eyes.” I cut her off, but my eyes are still strained on him. I have to tear my eyes away from him to bashfully look at Donna.

She nods with a smile, “The rest I’ve put together from bits and pieces of everyone’s conversations.” She shrugs cockily. “You know,” She stops herself; I can tell she’s debating whether or not to say what she’s about to say, “This isn’t my first time hearing about you.”

My heart flips. I want to question her further, and I’m about to until I smell expensive cologne and a familiar musk. I turn my head to see Harvey just leaving his office with Mike in tow. He sees me and smiles, trying to charm me. Oh god, he’s trying to play me!

Back in the day, I knew Harvey better than I knew myself. So now I know he’s trying to get back in my good graces, what I don’t know is his end goal.

“G’morning, Donna,” He greets Donna and then his eyes slowly trail to mine. “(Y/n).” He has a close-lipped smirk on his face, one he knew made my knees weak in law school. This may be harder than I thought.

I give him a polite nod but don’t give him any more attention. He may still give me butterflies, but I’m still pissed. I turn my attention to the younger man beside him. “Mike.” I greet him with a smile but there’s some tension exuding from me. I haven’t forgotten what he said to me the other day. “Y’know, our conversation the other day inspired me,” I put my hand on his shoulder and squeeze it. “I think my next vacation might be in Paris…France.” I say bluntly and drop the smile I was faking as I side-eyed Harvey.

His eyes dart from my face to Mike accusingly. “Yeah, ha-ha,” Mike laughs nervously. “It’s a beautiful place. The architecture, the landscape-“

“The people?” I question in a demeaning way with a smile on my face. I see Harvey tense and he licks his lips. He’s uncomfortable. Good. Harvey’s hand goes to Mike’s back, and I can tell he’s probably giving him a hidden pinch. Ooh, I know that hurts.

There’s an awkward beat of silence. “Well.” Donna clears her throat, “You all should probably get going. Marshall is expecting you.” She urges.

“Ok, thank you, Donna.” I answer chipperly and turn in the direction of the elevators. In the reflection of one of the associate's monitors, I see Donna mouthing something demanding at Harvey. He mouths back something along the lines of ‘I know, I know!’.

I walk briskly to the elevators and press the button; I don’t even check if the boys are behind me. “So, where are we headed?” I ask, but I keep my head straight, facing the closed elevator doors.

They say nothing until I hear what I’m assuming is Mike giving Harvey a little arm shove. “Downtown-” Harvey starts, then clears his throat. I hear Mike stifle a chuckle. “-we’re meeting Donald Marshall. He’s the company lead for Shilton Suites.”

There’s a ding as the elevator doors open. I step onto the lift and stand close to the buttons. Both boys hesitate to enter. “Are you guys… coming?” They are being so awkward, ugh, boys.

Harvey shoves Mike into the elevator before him, he gets pushed into the wall. Harvey stands shoulder to shoulder with me. “How did you like your coffee?”

I think I’ve imagined his voice; he doesn’t move his torso to face me or even glance my way. I don’t answer right away, trying to process that Harvey is actually talking to me-not just a good morning. “It’s the best around.” He hums in a positive tone, and I see a small smile creep onto his face.

I hope he doesn’t think we’re going to be besties after apology coffee, but I might as well throw him a bone. “Louis wanted to go buy me one from Roaster Roos.”

“Roaster Roos?” Harvey finally turns his body to me and has an offended look on his face. My heart flutters and I wish I could beat it down with a hammer. “God, he has no idea what good coffee is.” He turns back to face the elevator doors, and I crave his gaze on me again.

I feel like I’m running out of time to talk to him away from prying eyes. The dinging of the elevator as we steadily drop feels like a doomsday clock. “He wants to take me to dinner.” I don’t know why I said that.

Harvey stops next to me, and I hear Mike’s strained breathing behind me. I forgot he was here. Once again, it’s quiet until he asks, “How would your boyfriend feel about that?” He’s playing the game- he wants to know if I’m seeing anybody. Touche Mr. Douchebag.

How do I tell him I’m single without being pathetic? “Let’s just say, Louis might have a fighting chance.” I shrug. “Why? Did Louis not ask you to dinner when you first came to the firm?” I tease with a smirk.

His demeanor changes and he has a playful smile on his face, just like the good old days. “Oh, please, Louis wishes he could handle all this.” He motions to himself. He still won’t look at me. I need him to look at me.

I smirk and eye him up and down till my gaze catches on his tie. It’s crooked, I notice. A quick fit of confidence comes over me and I reach for it. At first, both hands are on the knot, but then the other lays flat on his chest while the other straightens the tie out.

It’s just like it was in law school when I would get him ready for mock trials. Something so normal, so domestic, about fixing his tie. Finally, finally, he looks down at me. We’re all but inches apart. I look up into his dark eyes and I feel… odd. His warm breath fans my face and I have to force myself away.

Harvey’s eyes stay on me this time. I can sense Mike looking between the two of us and there’s another layer of awkwardness added to the lift again. “Sorry, I-”

“-Hate a crooked tie.” He finishes my sentence. Of course, he does. I can’t stop myself from looking up, and I know it’s a dumb thing to do before I even do it. Harvey is already looking down at me calmly with half-lidded eyes. I take a brisk look over the rest of his face (pause a little too long on his lips) and back up.

I move just a tad further away from him than I was when we first got in. What is wrong with me? I look towards the elevator buttons and keep my eyes strained there. My chest is rising up and down as I think about what I’ve done.

There’s a ding and the elevator doors open. I wait for him to step out so that I can collect myself, but he doesn’t budge. I side-eye him and motion towards the door, “Go ahead.”

I can feel him looking at me, “Ladies first.” He says and his voice makes my heart flutter. I look at him and he’s looking at me like I’m a sick dog on the side of the street that he feels bad for. I bite my cheek and step out.

The whole way to the meeting spot for the client, I’m a pace or two behind Harvey and Mike. Not just because they’re tall and have long legs, either. At one point, I could tell Harvey had slowed his walking pace so I wouldn’t be so far behind, but I resisted being any closer to him by slowing my pace as well.

I need to think. I’ve detested Harvey since we ‘broke up’, but I’m within his vicinity for TWO DAYS, and I can’t keep it in my pants! I watch his back as he walks and can picture the smooth skin beneath. That gets me thinking about his chest… the scratches I left on both… I shake my head, there is something seriously wrong with me.

We arrive at a parking garage and elevator up to the fifth floor. Luckily, this time I keep my mouth shut and my eyes far from his. The client is waiting for us on a fancy, cherry-red car.

“Harvey!” He shouts joyously. The guy is older with white hair, but he seems active and in good spirits. His gaze slides over to me and I feel like an object. My pace slows and I try to fade into the background despite his hungry eyes. “And who is this?” He looks his lips and I pray that it’s an unconscious habit.

“I’m Mike Ross.” Mike steps in the man’s line of sight. “I’m Harvey’s personal associate.” Thank God for Mike Ross.

But this guy’s determined. He nods boredly at Mike before motioning him to step to the side. Mike moves in stuttered motions and his eyes flicker between me and the client. I give him a face that says ‘What the fuck?’, and he gives me one back that says, ‘I don’t know!’

“You.” I look at the man and freeze. He smiles at me and goes back to leaning on his car, “What are you doing with this guy?” He nods his head to Harvey. I see his jaw clench out of the corner of my eye but otherwise doesn’t move a muscle. “With a face like yours, you could be on anyone’s arm.” The implication is clear.

Just as Harvey opens his mouth, I say, “He’s my boss.” I nod with a tight smile.

An idea floods into my brain and my previously uncomfortable posture straightens until it becomes arched. “Yep!” I pop my lips and sway my hips as I get closer to the car. “Until I get a client of my own, I’m gonna be stuck with this guy.” I point with my thumb to Harvey. “You wouldn’t know a guy who’d want to be my client… would you?” I bat my lashes down at him.

He's quiet for a second and I can feel him about to say something, but I want to make sure my answer is a yes. I slide onto the shiny hood of the car and partially lay on my hip. “Cool car by the way.” I bat my lashes once more, but now I’m looking up at him and I can tell he’s hooked.

“Love, I’m sure people would get in legal trouble just to work with you.” He flirts and scoots closer to me on the car. Play it cool.

“Y/n.” I hear Harvey’s stern voice behind me and slide off of the car.

The rest of the meeting goes without a hitch. The client, Donald Marshall, would occasionally throw in the flirty comment or look but Harvey would quickly interject. As soon as we got what we needed we headed out of the lot… Not fast enough to prevent Mr. Marshall from kissing my hand on the way out.

“What the hell was that?” Harvey asks as soon as we’re on the sidewalk. He puts his hands on his hips and appears to be fuming. “You’re gonna flirt with my client- in front of me? I should write you up.”

“Call it what you want, I’m going to have clients begging to have me represent them by the end of the week.” I pull out my cell to look up the nearest Ikea. I try to look unbothered, but my heart is racing.

“You can’t just flaunt yourself to get clients-“

I get in his face and shove my finger into his chest. “I can and I will do whatever I want to get me as far away from you as possible!” My words are laced with venom.

I hate him. Just because he still has those puppy dog eyes and sugary words doesn’t mean he didn’t lead me on and then tell me I was stupid to think there was something between us.

I breathe heavily and he does in return. There is fire in his eyes, and I don’t want him to look at me like that- but I know I’m looking at him the exact same way. “As soon as I get my first client I won’t have to look at your sorry face and I can pretend you’re not even there.” I turn on my heels to the street and raise my hand to signal a cab.

I am so over Harvey Specter.

Taglist: @technicallykawaiisoul @malfoys-demigod @notarobotipromise

If you want to be added, just let me know!

[wlntrsldler]

we can't be friends (wait for your love) | luke castellan

synopsis: where luke survives the battle of manhattan and returns to camp half blood, only to see you (his ex) in a new relationship.

based on we can't be friends (wait for your love) by ariana grande

luke didn’t plan on making it out alive from the battle of manhattan, but here he was, back in camp half blood, wishing that he succumbed to his wounds instead of fighting to stay alive. the camp was different, cold and foreign to him, even though he’d spent a good chunk of his life on the campgrounds. all his best and worst memories were made at camp half blood, but that life seemed unreachable now. at this point, luke didn’t know if the memories that he recalled were actually his or if they were just tricks kronos was still pulling on him. 

the campers knew him as the ‘traitor.’ the kids he used to help with their sword skills cowered in fear whenever he approached them. the apollo kids only tended to his wounds because they had to and even then, they glared at him and wrapped the bandages just tight enough not to cut off blood flow. the satyrs who used to slip him strawberries from their fields, spoke about him in hushed whispers whenever he walked by them. but the thing that hurt the most was seeing you walk around with theo harvey, hand in hand, just like he used to do with you. 

he didn’t have the right to be upset. it’s been years since the two of you were last together, years since he held your hand in his, kissed your lips, felt you asleep on his chest. it was before he turned into this monster with hands stained with the blood of the people he considered friends, considered family. he knew you’d move on. he told himself that he wanted you to be happy, to receive the love that you deserved, but selfishly, he knew deep down that he wanted you to have that with him– not the theo harvey, child of athena, favored by the gods. 

at first, luke thought he’d be able to make it through the summer. as far as he knew, the older kids didn’t stay at camp half blood throughout the year, but he was thoroughly disappointed when he found out that a lot of the older kids stayed to guard camp just in case something happened. luke blamed himself for his own suffering. getting used as kronos’ host hurt less than seeing your lipgloss on theo’s cheek when they sparred; or noticing that the necklace he made for you when he was 15 was replaced by the one that theo bought you; or hearing your giggles from across the campfire while theo whispered corny jokes in your ear. he did this to himself.

it made him sick to his stomach. he discreetly moved into the poseidon cabin with percy (he grew tired of his siblings falling silent every time he walked into the hermes cabin. he no longer knew how to sleep in silence because it was always loud and rowdy when his siblings were involved, but alas, that changed too). luke was scared of it at first, knowing that he was on thin ice with the gods, but percy, being percy, scoffed. 

“you already tried to dethrone them,” the younger boy joked, trying to lighten luke’s broody demeanor, “i think you staying in a cabin you’re not assigned to is on the bottom of your list of offenses.” 

“dude. too soon.” 

“my bad.” 

the trio tried their best to cheer luke up. they knew that it was probably difficult for him to come back to camp after everything, but it became clear quickly that luke’s mood was not just due to everyone at camp hating him, but rather because one person at camp wanted nothing to do with him. 

anyone who saw you and luke interact before everything went down, knew that there was something between you guys that nothing in the world could touch. none of them knew the extent of your bond until it was your voice that snapped luke out of kronos’ control. it took one word. one syllable. luke. the second he heard your voice, it was like a switch was flipped in luke’s brain. 

percy made an ill-timed joke after the dust cleared, “if y/n was all it took to bring you back, we would’ve dragged her to see you a long time ago, buddy. would’ve saved us a lot of time.” 

“percy.” 

on the way back to chb, luke revealed that he made a deal with kronos to keep you out of harm’s way. he only agreed to be kronos’ host if it meant that he would protect you, keep you away from all the bloodshed of the war. the titan agreed but underestimated your stubbornness and prowess. when you showed up to the battle of manhattan, a part of kronos knew that his plan was spoiled. 

so luke’s actions, sulking during meals, spending too many hours training, opting to be alone, made sense to them. you hadn’t so much looked in his direction since he arrived at camp half blood; not even a smile, a wave, an acknowledgment of his presence. it was painful to watch luke stare at you from across the room, longing evident on his face, only breaking his gaze when theo finally showed up to take his usual spot next to you. luke still loved you, that part was clear, but at what point was it too much? 

annabeth, who’d watched your love story unfold, and was your number one fan, was heartbroken to watch your relationship crumble. she liked theo, her half-sibling was great, but luke was her brother and as much as he messed up, she felt bad for him. you were it for luke. if luke was going to end up with someone, it was you. she always believed that it was written in the stars, crafted by the hands of fate, professed by the goddess of love herself, that in this life you and luke would prevail and when your time came to exist in the afterlife, you’d find each other in elysium. but with how things were looking, annabeth began to question her own belief system.

it happened during one of the many nights luke couldn’t fall asleep, no matter how hard he tried. he threw on one of the hoodies he left behind at camp before sneaking out of the poseidon cabin to smoke a cigarette, a habit he picked up during his days on princess andromeda. 

he saw you then, standing by the lake seemingly on patrol. he didn’t know that you’d be assigned to guard tonight. if he did, he probably wouldn’t have come out of the cabin. as much as he stared at you and scratched at his palms wanting to talk to you, he never made an effort to. he knew you well enough to know when you wanted nothing to do with someone and how you were treating him right now made your intentions very clear. 

luke was trying his best to be quiet, but he accidentally burned the tip of his thumb with his lighter and let out a hiss. you turned around immediately, sword drawn, in a fighting stance. you narrowed your eyes, trying to make out who was out of the cabins this late at night. 

“shit,” luke mumbled, stuffing his cig and lighter in his pocket. he’d been so distracted looking at you, trying to hide himself, that he didn’t notice the fire was so close to his skin. he raised his hands up, trying to show that he wasn’t looking for trouble, “i-i’ts uh, it’s just me. sorry, i didn’t mean to scare you.” 

you froze in your spot, arm slowly falling to your side. you placed your sword back in its place, walking over to him, “luke?” 

it was pathetic how the corners of his lips quirked up in a smile at the sound of his name leaving your lips. he hadn’t heard it since that day and it made a warmth spread across his chest. he wiped the smile off his face as you got close enough to see him, afraid that you’d think he was making a joke out of the situation. he stood there awkwardly as your eyes studied his face and his body, probably assessing if he was a threat. 

“hey, y/n,” your name tasted sour in his mouth. he hadn’t called you that in years, always referring to you as baby, or babe, or love, or another cringy pet name that you pretended to hate but the blush on your cheeks said otherwise. using your real name felt too formal, like you were strangers. perhaps you considered him a stranger now. the idea made luke want to disappear. “i just uh, came out to get some fresh air.”

you stayed silent, pursing your lips as you continued to stare at him. luke tried not to think about how much of a mess he looked right now. the sweater was a size too small on him, sleeves falling short on his wrists. his pajama pants were wrinkled and stained with mud where they dragged on the floor on his way to the lake. his curls were a mess on his head. he ran a hand through his hair one too many times while he tossed and turned on his cot. the bags under his eyes weren’t the most flattering and the smaller scars that had been added on his face since the battle were disgusting to look at. 

he cleared his throat, “i can go back to the cabin, i-it’s really not a big deal. i’ll just crack a window open or something.”

“where are you staying?” you asked, crossing your arms over your chest, “i know you’re not sleeping in the hermes cabin. the stolls told me you haven’t been there in days.” 

luke rubbed the back of his neck, “i’ve been staying with percy. ‘m not really welcomed in my cabin right now.” 

“i see,” you replied. 

“yeah.” 

“you need to stop it.” 

luke gulped, “stop what?” 

“staring at me,” you licked your lips before taking your bottom lip between your teeth. you scruffed the bottom of your shoes on the grass, a tell that you were feeling awkward. he was brought back to the day you confessed your feelings for him. 

you were sixteen, he seventeen, right after he returned from his quest. he’d taken you out into the woods to get away from the judgment of the campers about his failed quest. he was lying on his back, pointing out the constellations in the sky, when you got up with your hands on your back. you shyly rocked back and forth on the tips of your toes and the balls of your feet, staring down at him with a red flush on your cheeks. 

you started dragging your feet on the floor, ignoring the dirt that kicked up from your actions that stuck on the fabric of your converses. you had mumbled that you liked him and luke couldn’t believe it. he asked you to repeat yourself, louder the second time, partly because he wanted to hear it again, and partly because he thought he was hearing things. when you groaned and walked away, fully believing that he was messing with you, luke jolted from his position and ran after you. he wrapped his arms around your waist and spun you around, proclaiming his own feelings for you in between fits of giggles and kisses to your cheek. 

this scene was the opposite of that. your stare was cold and serious, needing to get this point across. luke thought you looked different. physically, you still looked like his y/n– same hair, same eyes, same lips, but the look on your face was distant. you’d never looked at him like this before, like you didn’t know him at all, like he had no place in the life you created for yourself. luke didn’t know if it hurt more to have you ignore him like you had been doing for weeks, or have you look at him like this. 

“i have a boyfriend, luke,” you sighed, “you can’t keep looking at me like that.” 

“i-i’m sorry,” he stuttered out, tears burning his eyes. “i just miss you.” 

“please don’t do that,” you whispered, turning your head away from him. luke watched you wipe your tears with your forearm and all he wanted to do was engulf you in his arms like he’d done a million times before and hold you until the storm was over. “you don’t get to say things like that to me.” 

luke rubbed his jaw, trying to keep his hands occupied, “you know i can never lie to you.” 

“i need you to lie to me this time, okay?” you refused to look at him now. “i need you to say that you don’t feel anything for me anymore.” 

“i can’t do that, y/n.” 

“i spent years loving you and you left, luke. you chose to betray us,” you placed your palms on your stomach, trying to steady yourself. you felt like you couldn’t breathe. this is why you’d been avoiding him. you knew that the minute he made his way back into your life, you’d fall on your knees, at his mercy. a part of you knew that he wouldn’t do anything like that again, but you also knew that in the off-chance that he would, you wouldn’t survive a second blow. you barely made it out alive after the first one. losing luke for a second time would ruin you. “i like theo. i’m finally learning to live without you and i can’t lose all this progress over some wishful thinking. luke, i can’t do that.” 

“it’s not wishful thinking,” luke replied, sniffling. 

“stop it!” you sobbed, turning to look at him. your tears were streaming down your face, despair and hurt clouding your eyes, “stop it, please! i’m begging you to let me go. i-i can’t have you in my life. don’t you get it? i’m tethered to you. you’re the other half of my soul. you own a piece of my heart that i can never ever get back, but i-i’m exhausted trying to fight you off.”

luke’s shoulders deflated at the sound of agony in your voice. he took a step back, mouth opening and closing as he tried to will his mind to say something, anything, in response to you. but he couldn’t. where does he even start? 

should he tell you that it was the memories with you that kept him sane all those years he was held captive? should he tell you that he visited camp half blood despite knowing that it would cause more harm than good during those years just in the hopes that he could catch a glimpse of you? should he tell you that when the corners of his vision began to blur, it was the feeling of your hands pressing against his wounds that made him fight to stay alive?

he’d stay alive just to feel your touch, warm and steady hands on his tattered skin as he’d always remembered, for a second longer. he’d use his last bit of strength to place a kiss on your knuckles, injuries be damned because he needed you to know how he felt. he’d use his last breath to tell you that you looked beautiful, bloodied and bruised, under the light of the world burning around you. he’d spend the rest of his life hated by everyone in the world just to have you glance in his direction. he’d spend his time in the afterlife in tartarus if it meant that he had a shot at rebirth, in a life where you loved him again. 

“make it easier for me and put me out of my misery,” you choked out, “you at least owe me that decency.” 

luke knew that he was difficult to love. his mom went crazy because she loved him. his dad abandoned him because he was too much. thalia hated him because of who he had become. annabeth still flinched when percy made jokes about kronos because it reminded her of what luke did. luke knew that loving him was a chore, a burden, but he never thought that loving him would cause someone so much suffering. especially not you, who told him once that loving him was effortless, as easy as breathing in oxygen in the air. you once said that loving him was simple. it was second nature to you. 

now, he watched you cry out in pain. pain that he caused. and he knew he couldn’t in good conscience deny you of your request. luke stuffed his hands in his front pockets, “okay.” 

he looked at you, for the last time, before walking away, stumbling in his steps as he left you alone.