#it’s so creative! just like all your designs

[henneseyhoe]

All In A Day’s Work

Lewis Hamilton x BLACK!FEM!Reader

WARNINGS:This Headcanon Is Nasty…I Mean Disgusting. Mean!Lewis(No seriously..he’s an asshole till like… the end lmfao), Mentor/Boss!Lewis, Dark!Lewis, Protege!Reader, Insults, Almost A Yandere!Lewis Undertone(I can’t help myself), Lewis Being A Perv, Cockwarming Orally, Spit, Power Imbalance, Dumbification(Kinda?), Pet Names (Baby, Doll, Princess, Slut), Age Gap Unspecified(21+), Public Sex (Kinda), Stalking (Mild), Dirty talk, Gagging, Brief Mention Of Anal, Reader Is Kinda Naive, Probs More Idk.

SUMMARY: They say never meet your idols..

✮✮✮✮

Mentor/Boss!lewis, who quite literally hated you.

He hated your work. He hated the way you worked. He hated your ideas. He hated the way you dressed too. How could you be in the fashion industry dressing like that, and who the hell did you think you were?

You, who looked up to him. You studied his style and cadence, he was your inspiration that kept you intrigued with art and fashion. There wasn’t a piece you have made that you didn’t imagine him praising you for, clapping from an audience of fellow famous designers as you win an award for pieces you made all by yourself. You dreamed so, so big.

Once a confident art school student who recently graduated turned a quiet, delicate thing in his presence. You needed to be that way. If you made yourself smaller, maybe he wouldn’t seek to bother you like he did daily.

It wasn’t just your liking for him and his work that made it hard to be around him, he made it his mission to make everything 10x more insufferable.

You didn’t even know why he hired you, really. There were rumors that he purposely never hired fans, stating that their inspiration from him would blind them from using their own creativity, and you made it very obvious in your interview that you were nothing short of star struck. But, the job was yours on the spot, approved and stamped by Lewis himself.

Your excitement coursed through your veins, hungry for the ideas and tips he’d give you along the way.

Sadly, you were paid just about what dust was worth. As soon as you began working It seemed you were just there to be his punching bag, something he could take his anger out on when someone, or you, most likely you, pissed him off.

Boss!Lewis, who purposely overworked you, making you type up drafts for his articles just as he came up with it in real time. You wanted desperately to make him proud, so you listened to each syllable of each word, each well calculated, evil, full of venom sentence that could end someone’s career that poured into your ears. You pay attention closely as you type, because he himself remembered everything he said, and if anything was out of place or missing from his rant, then he’d be more than pissed.

“This is all you heard? Have your ears somehow popped off your head and walked out of the building?…You wasted my time, and yours. Get out”

He’d say as he shoved the papers back into your hands, still warm from the printer. Did he even give time to actually check if they were right?

Your palms turned white with how hard you clutched the papers in your hands as you walked out, heels stabbing the marble floor with every step you took. He enjoyed seeing your display of emotion whenever he corrected you. This would toughen you up. Maybe even teach you to do things right next time.

Your ears felt hot with both embarrassment and frustration nearly every time he spoke to you. You thought working for your hero would be fun and empowering, but day by day you were proved wrong. How could someone so humble and kind on screen be so cruel to such a sweet girl like you? You were only trying..

Still, you tried harder to gain his respect by working more than you ever had, sewing till your fingers bled, drawing up new designs for him to see that you were getting better, bringing him sweet treats when you could to get even the smallest of thank yous, but again, he wasn’t too fond of your work, or you.

And god forbid you propose the possibility that maybe he was the one that was wrong, he made the mistake and you just made the mistake of following his every word and direction.

Leaning over his desk, you present to him the digital catalog for this year's spring, items of different kinds of clothing littering your computer screen as you click each one individually until he tells you to move on.

“Stop” Lewis points to a picture to halt your scrolling, your heart skipping a beat as you think, ‘Fuck…now what?’

He tsks.

“This suit is from last summer. I specifically told you last year seasons go into an archive, these are not average pieces people can just buy”

You squint, your eyes glazing the screen. “But I didn’t hear- You didn’t say that at all”

“Are you calling me a liar?”

He turned to you in his office chair and closed your laptop down, his head tilted in question. You couldn’t even look straight into his eyes to answer, it was like you saw all the souls he captured day to day screaming for mercy inside of them.

Before you could even fully get a word out he was already giving you your second warning that day.

“I suggest you watch the way you speak to me”

You did so, limiting your criticism to none. You desperately needed to keep this job, the clout, and the money from it. You knew your ideas were good, you just needed Lewis to see that. You needed a little boost, and Lewis was well aware that you couldn’t afford to lose anything you gained this year, seeing as it took you an entire one to find a company like this to take you seriously, having the honor to work as close as you do with one of Europe’s top designers. One day you hoped to be one just like him.

The company had many young workers, some directly hired by Lewis himself just like you, many with the same plans as you to become some big designer or director in the city. Some are not as hardworking as you, so you wondered why Lewis wasted time bullying you instead.

You complain to your coworkers often, thinking you’ve found some kind of friend, but are quickly corrected when you find out someone’s been snitching about what you’ve been saying about your boss around the office..

Lewis towered over you as you sat in a chair facing his desk, hands fiddling in your lap with your head hanging low in shame. This wasn’t the first time you’ve been embarrassed in this very office, and it definitely wouldn’t be the last.

“If you spent half as much time actually doing what I tell you to do instead of wasting your energy bad mouthing me around the building, maybe you wouldn’t have to be a fucking assistant anymore” He chuckled as he flipped through a catalog of unreleased designs while pacing the floor in front of you. The tapping of his shoes synced with the hard thump of your heart, every ‘clack’ leading a loud ‘lub-dub’ that you swore everyone in the room could hear.

Stopping in his tracks, he sighs and shakes his head, neat braids that framed his face swaying with the movement. He often faked his pity, you learned that early on. He cared none if you were struggling for whatever reason, in his head you either pull yourself up by your bootstraps or sit and suffer.

“If you can’t take the little shit I give you, then how do you expect to get anywhere in life, princess? Pretty faces can only get you so far, especially when you piss off important people before you even become somebody“

You keep your head down, careful to not make the mistake of shrugging at his question like the first time he had ever asked you anything you didn’t know the answer to.

“Wow..And you’re fired”

You look up from your sweating hands, your heart skipping beats when you realize he was talking to the woman behind you.

“What? Me? But-” Her stuttering clearly didn’t help her case as she tried to find the right excuses to keep her position as head director, which would eventually become vacant regardless. Lewis spared her a glare, but it was more of a warning for her to suck it up. He hated seeing people cry.

“No one likes a snitch”

You exited that room that day with a thankfulness not even gospel could pull from you. You kept your job and your spot next to him. Dignity and pride was in question, but at least you weren’t jobless.

The next week, you focused more on yourself. You wore your own designs, hoping to catch some kind of compliments, and you did! Just not from Lewis. It was already known that Lewis hated your style, but you could at least say it wasn’t as bad as his last assistant, whom he told you dressed like, and I quote, he “walked into the closet every morning with his eyes closed and his hands tied behind his back with only his mouth as an option to pick up the items to wear”...

You tried your best to dress to his liking and incorporate his style into your designs while also keeping your signatures. You spent your nights reading magazines he did interviews for to pick up on what he was feeling was in this year, but it wasn’t easy when he was so picky.

“Is that rose gold?”

“Where?.. On my watch?”

Lewis stayed silent, his eyes scanning you fully before he spoke again.

“No, on the floor” He said with sarcasm plaguing his voice, making you raise a brow.

“Take the jewelry off. It looks tarnished”

He nearly swooped you up just then to get something that actually matched your skin tone, but that’d be him just stealing company time for something more..personal.

Boss!Lewis, who soon got tired of your poor attempts at outfits and began to dress you in things he thought were good looking, giving you a box of expensive new outfits at the end of the work day, each labeled for which days you’d wear them. He even invited you over to his for a few “required” trials. Y’know, just to see how good the tailoring was.

And you were ecstatic about it. You, in YOUR idols house, getting adorned in expensive clothing you only dreamed about. It made up for everything he said to you that week to make you upset.

He took you into his very own study and told you what colors look best on you in each season of the year, gave you advice on what jewelry made you glow and the places you should put them depending on the cut of your clothes, he measured your waist, arms, legs, bust, everything, and told you what would go with your body type. Though you wished he could turn the heat up as he did so, you were starting to get a little cold in just your bra and underwear..

“Look at that…it fits you so much better than what you’re usually in”

He’d turn you to a mirror as you tried to lower the mini skirt you wore, attempting to cover more than just the cup of your ass. You could nearly feel a breeze every time he passed you by to get a look from different positions.

Apparently his favorite was from the back.

“You won’t be wearing anything I didn’t put you in from now on. Think of it like a work uniform, since you dress like the world outside is blind. Now, gimme a spin, doll”

Your new look caught the attention of other designers. Some loved the bold look, seeing it as a statement, like how fashion should be these days. They applaud you for testing out the boundaries and limits of a workplace. How professional could you be with your skirt riding up? Others were confused on why your style did an entire 180, and why they could see the valley of your breasts now.

Your answer was simple. Evolution is how the world stays afloat. If you don’t change in time and willingly, the world around you will force you to before you’re ready. Lewis told you that.

Boss!Lewis, who wished he did this so much sooner. His very own life size Barbie he could dress up and down any way he wanted. It was just an extra perk to being able to say anything to you and you still coming into work the next day.

You were beautiful before, he never denied that, all his insults were technically on your intelligence. Nonetheless, he believed he outdid himself with this idea, he could truly see your potential now. Everything you put on brought out your features so much more, it was almost dramatic, and you were starting to truly live up to the nickname he gave you. Now he wanted to know if you were just as flexible as any other doll..

Boss!Lewis, who couldn't get enough of looking at you. It was never an innocent attraction, it was never about wanting to help a protege, this was all for him and him only, the fashion industry be damned. He didn’t care about introducing you to a world of anything as soon as he got half of your clothes off.

The amount of times he was imagining fucking you in front of everybody should have been illegal. He even debated fucking you in his study when he invited you over, watching you drool dumbly with a tiny dress hanging halfway off of your waist. Your very own icon using you for what you were worth. He was already imagining things before, but the daydreams were starting to prohibit him from his duties of CEO.

He had to do something. Fucking his hand in the privacy of his office wasn’t gonna suffice forever.

Boss!Lewis, who went to bed at night thinking of you. Thinking of the ways he could bend you, how many times he could make you cum in one round. When he was with you he pondered on what kind of panties you were wearing. Were they black? Pink, maybe? Did they have a cute little bow on the front like they did when he dressed you? Were they lace and see through? So see through that he could bend you over his desk and spread your ass with his hands to see the pink peeking from behind your brown lips. God, he wanted you so fucking bad from the start.

Boss!Lewis, who started to become irrational. Wondering where you went after work, if you had anyone else to see. God knows what Lewis would do to him, or get done to him. He even followed you sometimes when he couldn’t take the wondering, you were absolutely oblivious to the Ferrari behind you at every stop.

Boss!Lewis, who didn’t need to see where your house was, you worked for him, so of course he had your address, but he needed to see what routes you took. How long would it take you to get there after he snuck into your bottom floor apartment and stole a pair of your underwear after snooping through your things, carefully placing them back where they belonged before snapping a picture or two. Money took him a long way as he bribed the security with a few bills to ensure he wouldn’t speak a word of his visit. Of course the dumb fuck agreed.

You notice your underwear going missing, but you pass it off as just misplacing them in all the other clothes that were being delivered from Lewis.

You also noticed how close Lewis was becoming, but that just made you giddy. Someone you still adored as an artist finally warming up to you.. And as a boss, he had to watch you for reasons, right?

From the time you got to work and clocked in from the time you left, he was watching from his office, glass windows so clear that you could see the condensation from his breath on it as he looked down upon his workers. When you left, his curtains were immediately pulled close.

“He’s just being a boss” “He’s always like that, right?” “Don’t think too much, this is your dream, You’ll ruin your chances with him” Your friends would say when you confided in them about the constant watching, but they didn’t understand that he wasn’t watching everyone, he was watching you. You weren’t sure you understood that he was just watching you either.

Time passed and now he didn’t just watch. He visibly followed. He touched. Brushing a singular finger up your bare arm as you worked aside him, the silver ring on his finger sent shivers straight up your spine and electricity to your core. That jump started a second heartbeat that wouldn’t settle till you walked away from him.

Boss!Lewis, who was unashamed, barely hiding the lingering stares or brushing.

“Sir?”

You’d dare to speak as he pressed himself up against your ass. It wasn’t firm, but just enough for you to feel him. Your hands were unable to move to continue writing up a list of fabrics he needed for later that week. You became aware of everything around you. The ticking of the clock on the wall was loud, the cold wood of his desk pressing on your forearms as you wrote was noticeable.

“Keep going”

He nudged with a hand on your hip as you let out a shaky breath. It was hard to work like this, you could barely believe it was happening where it was, with whom it was.

He thought you sucked at your job before, you could be no better now with him breathing down your neck, grabbing at your curves and using the excuse of just trying to feel the fabric of your clothes.

“Silk?” He asked, his hand growing dangerously close up your thighs from the rim of your dress.

Your breathing hitched, your hand hesitantly swiping his off of your thigh before you nod, trying to distract yourself from the intense staring by grabbing the nearest needle and thread, pretending to touch up a bralette in front of you that was basically already done.

Lewis smiles.

Boss!Lewis, who hadn’t gotten any better with distractions since testing his limits with you for months now. Watching you squirm, anticipating what was next was so much more satisfying than designing these days. But you? You had no room to slack.

He’d call you in his office just to watch you work, then complain about not getting enough done.

Just under your breath, you’d make smart comments to release yourself from some of the stress of the day, unable to hear his complaining for hours without a word for yourself like you used to. You didn’t say it to his face exactly, but he’d be near, his cursing prompting you to speak. You weren’t the girl you were a few months ago, the less he criticized you, the more you expressed yourself outwardly. You knew him, and he was all talk for the most part, you felt you deserved to say at least one thing even if only you knew what was said.

“Maybe if you did your job instead of looking up my skirt all day, damn perv…”

He heard you. He heard everything, remember?

“Perv?”

Perv? No, No, No. Lewis couldn’t let that slide. He wasn’t the one that was being weird, it was you. Sure, he made you dress a certain way, but it was your fault you looked like that. He was not. a fucking. pervert..Fuck.

Boss!Lewis, who made use of your mouth that had started to get smarter and bolder towards him the longer you worked for him. He kept you on your knees, under his desk with his dick stuffed in your mouth. Your jaw ached, and every time you made it known, he’d shove you down further, more spit trailing down your chin. He didn’t care if anyone knocked, or walked in. To them, it was none of their business, too scared to even mention the red bottoms slightly sticking from underneath the desk or the abrupt choking sound they’d hear in the middle of their conversation.

It just made Lewis even harder that they knew something was up. But no one was bold enough to speak up about it, scared they’d get blackballed from the industry they so desperately wanted to be in. If Lewis said they weren’t to be worked with ever…they won’t be.

After he allowed you to stand, your makeup had already smudged off, kisses trailing down his abs and a red print of your lips stained around the base of his dick so perfectly, that he took a picture of it when he went home that night and sent it to you straight from his own business number, his unbuttoned work shirt, abs and tattoos in shot and all.

You gasp when you opened it, your phone flying from your hand to the carpeted floor. You hadn’t even recovered from the events, and here he was reminding you that it definitely did happen.

‘This would be a great new tattoo, yeah? XX.

-Sir. L’

Boss!Lewis, who finally got the excuse he needed to do whatever he wanted to you. Why didn’t he just start spanking you from the beginning? Would have been easier than yelling at you, you probably would have let him so easily. All he had to tell you was it was a crucial part of discipline, of becoming your true artistic self. You would have been putty.

Boss!Lewis, who wanted to leave your panties soaked with his cum leaking out of you almost every late work night. So he did. You wouldn’t work overtime if you didn’t want that, obviously.

With every step you felt your lips glide together, making the mess so much worse. Your coworker asks why you’re walking weird the next morning, you say you sprained your ankle in your heels, but you’re fine. If they knew it was really all because your boss was creampie-ing you at nearly 2 in the morning, you’d be shamed out of the building. Climbing the ladder by sleeping with the CEO? How whorish of you.

Unfortunately, your little sessions with your beloved mentor weren’t making your days easier. How could you work properly with your panties soaked with your own arousal? Sloppy work made you upset, but so did unresolved cravings.

Boss!Lewis, who made you ride him while writing up notes as a punishment now. There was no excuse for mistakes. You had all the time you needed to double check.

“Spread your legs. Good girl. Keep going”

You complained with a whine and spread your legs further across his while continuing to bounce on him. Your thighs were burning like you had just done three sets of squats back to back, you were sweating, and the seat below you two was no dryer. Your handwriting was fucked, you couldn’t read a word back to yourself, but if you stopped, you didn’t know what he’d do next.

He caressed your back softly as you work your hips down on him, the clap of your ass against his pelvis bringing a smile to his face.

“Oh, baby…you better hope I can understand whatever’s on that paper”

Boss!Lewis, who gave you new strict rules on not talking to any male workers. It didn’t matter if they spoke to you first, you walked right by without a word, your eyes glancing upwards and spotting a familiar dark figure watching from your boss’s office.

You now had to cover up more, afraid anyone would see the hickeys that would magically appear on your neck whenever you’d leave Lewis’s office.

If the turtlenecks wasn’t a telling sign of what was going on, the sound of your voice coming out of the room sure would have been.

He began gagging you with your own thong, shoving it into your mouth as he slipped his fingers inside of you, his rings and tattoos coated with a thin layer of your cum. He licked up your neck, flicking his tongue over the darkening bruises as his fingers slid in knuckles deep.

“Be a good little slut and cum for me, okay? Can you do that for me, baby?”

You squealed into the cotton fabric in your mouth and threw your head back, your bangs falling out of your face as his fingers simultaneously pressed against your spot until your pussy was squirting like a fountain, wetting his rolled up sleeve.

That happened twice more. Eventually, he couldn’t shut you up with just a gag, but his fingers down your throat made the perfect replacement.

“You got the new designs all wet. I suggest you restart on these as soon as you get home, okay?”

12 hours wasn’t nearly enough time for you to get those sketches done, but you did it anyway, thanks to coffee and binge worthy shows.

You did so good, this was just another excuse for him to be able to finish inside you again, a hand wrapped around your throat to keep you still in the small office chair as he sung your praises about how much you were growing under his teachings.

He’d caress your face sweetly before sliding his thumb into your mouth, watching you suck on command. He loved the way you did as you were told without question.

“My pretty baby. You take it so well”

So proud you didn’t even need prepping from his fingers this time, your pussy greedily swallowed his dick and allowed him to fuck the way he wanted to. Feverishly. Every touch from him so fucking needy that he could just bite you. Your ass would be next, the size of him deliciously stretching you out with the help of your own slick and his spit as lubricant.

Maybe this little exchange was making you better as an artist. It seemed so. The insults were coming less and less, your designs were getting accepted more and more.

Boss!Lewis, who took you out to celebrate your growth, gifting you a ring with a tiny L carved on the inside of it and red bottom shoes that would stun the office. He treated you with the utmost respect with the paparazzi watching, making sure the image was nothing more than him going out to eat with one of his protégés innocently tagging along. Then, he took you back to his place and fucked you like a slut.

Your mouth was left open so wide you were convinced it would eventually lock in place like that. He didn’t even let you make it to the bed, the floor and your arched back was all he needed to get as deep as he wanted inside of you. You could scream all you wanted there. You were sure his maids got the hint to stay away from the foyer by now.

After he finished using you how he wanted, stuffing you full with his cum until he was perfectly satisfied, he’d kiss you on your forehead as if nothing had happened and you’d thank him. For tonight, and all your opportunities.

“I think someone deserves a promotion now”

Finally, you were where you needed to be.

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💌— I really hope yall liked this cause I cannot get Boss!Lewis off of my fucking mind 😭 I need him so bad yall like I literally had to FORCE myself to stop writing more smut in this 💔💔💔💔

[nickistuffs]

Between the Lines

Pairing: Harry x Designer reader (curvy or plus size whatever you feel they should look like. This is my preference 😌)

Summary: An early birthday gift should help. 

Word Count: 3.2k

Warnings: None. Angst with slow burn. 💗

✨masterlist✨ read the rest of Harry x Designer Reader there

...

It was nearing the end of January, and you found yourself deep in thought about what gift you could give to someone who seemingly had it all.

You scratched your head, wracking your brain for ideas. What could you possibly get Harry—someone who could effortlessly buy whatever he wanted?

The answer hit you after some deliberation. As a craft-loving person, the best gift wasn’t something money could buy. Instead, you decided on something personal: an elaborate handmade birthday card.

The idea sparked your creativity as you sat down to brainstorm the design. Your phone suddenly beeped, interrupting your thoughts. Looking down at the screen, you froze for a second. It was the very person occupying your thoughts.

Harry ☺️: Hey! Are you busy tonight and want to have some dinner?

Your heart leapt, and you quickly replied, feeling excitement bubble up in your chest.

Y/N: Nope, not busy at all! So what are we eating? 😩

Harry ☺️: I was thinking pasta. 😗🍝

Y/N: Hmm, I’m craving rice. How about sushi? 😗🍣

Harry ☺️: Sure, I’ll find a place. Pick you up in 40 minutes.

Y/N: Okiee! I’ll get ready. See you! Be safe. 😌🙏🚙

Harry ☺️: Always 😮‍💨🫡

You tossed your phone aside and hurried to your closet. After some deliberation, you settled on the comfiest yet stylish outfit you could put together—a flowy top paired with your favourite jeans. For the finishing touch, you applied a berry-coloured lipstick that made you feel confident

You were just about to head out when your phone buzzed again. Seeing Harry’s name pop up, you smiled and answered.

"Hello! Just going down the stairs now. Wait a minute for me, please.”

"Hi! Sure, I’m parked by the door," Harry replied, his voice warm and familiar.

Hanging up, you rushed out the door. Your excitement must have been contagious because you didn’t even pause to greet the doorman as you hurried to Harry’s car.

Spotting his sleek black Range Rover, you knocked on the tinted window. Harry rolled it down with a cheeky grin.

"Spare change, sir? Please, I’m hungry and cannot afford even bread crumbs," you teased, feigning a pitiful cough to sell the act.

Harry chuckled, his laughter lighting up the cold evening air. Playing along, he gave you a mock-serious look.

"I’m so sorry, madame. No spare change here. Go somewhere else, pauper," he said, rolling the window back up dramatically.

Your mouth fell open in exaggerated shock. Opening the car door, you saw him laughing so hard he was almost in tears. You couldn’t help but join in, your loud laughter filling the space.

"Hello! I guess I missed you," you said sassily as you settled into the passenger seat and buckled your seatbelt.

"I missed you too," Harry replied softly, leaning over to give you a quick hug in the tight space.

"Okay, let’s go. I’m hungry. For SUUUSHHIII!" Harry suddenly screamed, making you burst into laughter again.

…

The restaurant was cozy, with warm wooden tones and a calming atmosphere. You admired the decor as you waited for your food, bopping your head to the music playing in the background.

"Look at the solid wood they used here," you said, gesturing to the tables. "And the lights! The pendants are gorgeous. I love the pattern they used on the accent wall."

Harry watched you, a soft smile spreading across his face. He was quiet for a moment, his mind racing. Is now the right time to ask her to be my girlfriend? he wondered.

Just as he opened his mouth to speak, the waiter arrived with your food.

You both broke your chopsticks simultaneously and reached for a piece of salmon nigiri.

"So, how was your day, Harry?" you asked, savouring the fresh flavour.

"It was fine. Full of the usual meetings… that kept me from you." Your cheeks warmed at his response.

"I miss you too," you said shyly. "Thanks for inviting me to dinner. This is delicious!" Harry hesitated, his fingers fiddling with his chopsticks.

"Uh, Y/N… Can I ask you something?"

"Sure, what’s up?" you replied, taking another bite.

"Well, we’ve been having dinner for the past month or so…"

"Yeah?

"What do you think of our relationship at this point?"

You blinked, caught off guard by the question. "I guess… we’re good friends. You mean a lot to me, Harry."

"You mean a lot to me too, Y/N," he said softly, his gaze flicking to your lips.

But you didn’t seem to pick up on his deeper meaning. Harry smiled to himself, deciding to try again tomorrow.

… 

The next morning, both you and Harry found yourselves struggling. You still hadn’t come up with the perfect gift for him, and Harry still couldn’t figure out how to confess his feelings.

As you prepared for the day, your phone chimed.

Harry ☺️: Good morning. Want to ask if you’re busy for lunch today. 🌞😴

Y/N: Not at all. Want to get sandwiches at Feli’s place?

Harry ☺️: That’s what I was planning. See you there. 😎🥪☕️

As you ended the conversation, an idea suddenly struck you.

What if I made Harry something that wasn’t just a card? What if it was something more personal—something meaningful?

You grinned, a spark of excitement taking over.

…

By the time you arrived at Felice’s, Harry was already there, waiting at your usual table.

"Hey, you," he said with a warm smile. "Missed you all morning."

"It’s noon, Harry. We literally saw each other last night," you teased, sliding into the seat across from him.

"Well, it felt like a whole day already," he replied cheekily, his grin infectious.

As Felice brought over your drinks, Harry shifted in his chair, tapping his foot nervously under the table.

"So," he began, his voice hesitant, "I wanted to ask you something… about us."

You set your matcha latte down, a small crease forming between your brows as you looked at him. "What is it, Harry?"

Harry took a deep breath, his green eyes searching yours for courage. "You mean the world to me, Y/N. I was wondering if… if we could take things to the next level?"

Your heart skipped a beat at his words. For a fleeting moment, you thought you might have misunderstood him. But instead of jumping to conclusions, you took his statement the way you always had—through the lens of your friendship.

A warm smile spread across your face as you reached out to pat his hand.

"Of course we can, Harry," you said earnestly. "We’re best friends! I don’t think I’ve ever been closer to anyone."

Harry blinked, his hopeful expression faltering for a split second before he quickly recovered. "Right. Yeah… best friends," he said, his lips curling into a soft, bittersweet smile.

You leaned back in your chair, sipping your latte. "I’m so glad we had this talk. It’s nice to remind each other how much we mean, you know?"

"Yeah," Harry replied, his tone warm yet tinged with something unspoken. "It’s good to know where we stand."

But inside, Harry felt like screaming.

He cleared his throat, glancing at the time on his phone. "Actually, I just remembered—I have a call I need to take back home. You know, work stuff."

Your face fell slightly. "Oh, already? We barely had time to hang out."

"I know, I know," he said, standing up and putting on his coat. "I’ll make it up to you, promise."

You gave him a warm smile and stood up to hug him goodbye. "You better. Drive safe, okay?"

"Always," he murmured, his voice soft, as he stepped out the door.

…

As the door chimed shut, you settled back into your seat, finishing your latte. Felice appeared from behind the counter, wiping her hands on her apron, her expression a mix of frustration and disbelief.

"Y/N," she said firmly, crossing her arms as she leaned on the table and sat in the chair Harry previously sat on 

You looked up, startled. "What’s up, Feli?"

She sighed heavily, shaking her head. "You do know he’s trying to ask you out, right?"

You blinked, confused. "What? No, he’s not. Harry and I are just friends. He was just being sweet, as usual."

Felice groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Sweetheart, he wasn’t being sweet—he was confessing his feelings for you! That whole ‘take things to the next level’ thing? That wasn’t about friendship."

Your cheeks flushed, your mind replaying the conversation. "Wait… are you serious? He meant—oh my god."

"Yes, I’m serious!" Felice threw her hands in the air. "He’s been head over heels for you for weeks, and the poor man is probably banging his head on his steering wheel right now because you didn’t pick up on it."

You stared at her, stunned. "But he didn’t… I mean, I thought he just wanted to—oh no."

Felice softened, placing a hand on your shoulder. "Listen, Y/N. You’re amazing, but sometimes you’re a bit oblivious. Go home, think about it, and if you feel the same way, don’t make him wait too long. He’s trying, but he’s nervous, too."

You nodded slowly, feeling the weight of her words. "I had no idea," you murmured, biting your lip.

Felice smiled knowingly. "Now you do. And for the love of all that’s holy, don’t let him chicken out next time."

…

The walk back to your apartment felt longer than usual, your mind replaying every word Felice had said. Could Harry feel that way about you? 

The thought sent a mix of butterflies and panic fluttering through your chest.

Shaking your head, you unlocked your door and stepped inside, determined to distract yourself. 

"Focus," you muttered, setting your bag down on the table. There was still the matter of Harry’s birthday gift—a task that had been daunting enough before all this confusion.

You pulled out the materials you had bought earlier, laying them carefully on your worktable. Cardstock in soft pastels, fine-tipped pens, watercolours, and a small collection of pressed flowers you had saved from past projects.

Your plan: a Victorian puzzle purse. A charming, intricate craft that unfolded layer by layer to reveal hidden messages. It was old-fashioned, meaningful, and perfect for someone as thoughtful as Harry.

With a deep breath, you started sketching designs for the embellishments. At the corners of the puzzle, you drew delicate hearts, intertwining vines, and blooming flowers. Each stroke of the pen felt meditative, calming your nerves as you thought about what you wanted to say.

…

Once the decorative borders were complete, you dipped a fine brush into your watercolour palette, adding soft blush tones and a touch of gold to the design. 

As the paper dried, you pulled out your favourite pen, poised over the center of the puzzle where the first message would go.

"Dear Harry," you wrote, the words flowing easier than you expected.

"Happy Birthday to someone who brings light and laughter into my life every day. You’ve shown me what kindness, warmth, and passion look like, and I’m so grateful for every moment we’ve shared."

You hesitated, biting the end of your pen. Should you say more? Your mind wandered back to Felice’s words, and the possibility that Harry’s feelings for you went beyond friendship.

Taking a deep breath, you decided to be honest in your writing. Erasing your previous note.

You smiled to yourself, finishing the letter by signing your name. Folding the puzzle purse carefully, you tucked each corner in place, marvelling at how beautifully it had turned out.

Setting the finished craft on the desk, you leaned back in your chair and studied it, pride swelling in your chest. The puzzle purse was perfect—elegant, intricate, and heartfelt. You hoped Harry would love it as much as you had loved making it.

But as you stared at the delicate folds and hidden messages, Felice’s voice echoed in your mind again: "He’s trying to ask you out."

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. "Could she be right?" you whispered to yourself.

For the first time, you allowed yourself to imagine what it would be like if Harry did feel the same way. His shy smiles, the way he always made time for you despite his busy schedule, the way his green eyes softened whenever he looked at you… it all started to fall into place.

Your cheeks heated as you realized how much you wanted it to be true.

Pushing the thought aside, you stood up and placed the puzzle purse carefully in an envelope, sealing it with a wax stamp for an extra touch of flair. "We’ll see," you murmured. "First, let’s get through his birthday."

Little did you know, Harry was sitting in his car outside your apartment, staring at his steering wheel and replaying your conversation at Felice’s. He was determined to figure out how to tell you his feelings, once and for all—before he lost his nerve.

The soft knock on your door startled you. You weren’t expecting anyone. As you peeked through the peephole, your breath caught. There he was, standing in the hallway, looking both nervous and determined, a bouquet of wildflowers clutched in his hands.

You opened the door cautiously, surprised to see him. "Harry? What are you doing here?"

"Hey," he said, his voice soft but resolute. He held up the flowers with a sheepish smile. "These are for you."

Your eyes widened as you stared at the bouquet—an assortment of daisies, lavender, and tiny pink blooms, the kind of arrangement that felt as though it had been picked straight from a garden. "For me?"

He nodded, stepping inside at your invitation. You closed the door behind him, still cradling the flowers in your arms as if they were the most fragile thing in the world.

"Thank you," you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. "They’re beautiful."

Harry’s gaze softened as he watched you fuss over the flowers, your fingers delicately brushing the petals. He noticed the faint blush creeping up your cheeks, the way you avoided his eyes, and it only strengthened his resolve.

"Y/N," he began, his voice breaking the silence. You glanced up at him, your expression curious but cautious.

"I—" He faltered, running a hand through his curls. "I came here because… well, because I couldn’t wait anymore."

You tilted your head, confusion flickering across your face. "Wait for what?"

He let out a shaky breath, his hands fidgeting by his sides. "To tell you how I feel."

Your heart skipped a beat, the weight of his words sinking in. You opened your mouth to say something, but no words came out.

"I’ve been trying to tell you for weeks now," he continued, his green eyes locking onto yours. "Every time we have dinner, or lunch, or even just coffee, I try to find the right moment, but it never feels right. And then today, when we were at Felice’s, I realized I can’t keep putting it off."

You stared at him, your mind racing. Could this really be happening?

"I like you, Y/N," he said, his voice steady despite the nervous tremor in his hands. "More than a friend should like a friend. And I don’t want to pretend I don’t anymore."

Your grip tightened slightly on the bouquet as you tried to process his words. Harry liked you? As more than a friend?

"But…" you stammered, your voice shaky. "I thought we were just—"

"Friends?" he finished for you, a bittersweet smile tugging at his lips. "I know. I’ve probably confused you by not saying anything sooner. But, Y/N, you mean so much to me. More than anyone ever has. And I just… I couldn’t hold it in anymore."

You blinked, your heart pounding in your chest. "I… I don’t know what to say."

"You don’t have to say anything right now," he said quickly, his voice gentle. "I just needed you to know. Whatever you feel, I can handle it. I promise."

For a moment, the two of you stood in silence, the air thick with unspoken emotions. You glanced down at the bouquet in your arms, your thoughts swirling. Finally, you looked up at Harry, his hopeful green eyes searching yours.

"Harry, I…" You hesitated, biting your lip. Then, as if a lightbulb went off in your mind, you remembered the gift you had been working on for him all night.

Without a word, you turned and walked to your desk, leaving Harry momentarily confused. When you came back, you held a sealed envelope in your hands.

"This… this was supposed to be your birthday gift," you said softly, holding it out to him. "But I think maybe it’s better if you open it now."

Harry blinked, his brows knitting together as he carefully took the envelope from you. "Are you sure?"

You nodded, clasping your hands nervously as he broke the seal.

Harry studied the puzzle purse with awe, gently unfolding each layer of the intricately designed card. You had poured your heart into it, embellishing it with tiny hand-drawn flowers, delicate hearts, and vibrant splashes of color.

When he reached the center, he found the letter you had written. As he began to read, your pulse quickened.

"Dear Harry, I spent so much time trying to figure out what to give someone who seems to have everything.

But then I realized the only gift I could give you is the truth:

you’ve made my life brighter in ways I never thought possible. You inspire me, make me laugh, and make me feel seen. You mean so much to me, 

more than I think I’ve let on. And though it terrifies me to say it… I think I’m falling for you.

Happy birthday, Harry. You deserve all the happiness in the world."

sincerely yours, 

Y/N

When he looked up from the letter, his eyes were glistening with emotion. He smiled, a mixture of relief and joy spreading across his face.

"You…" He paused, shaking his head in disbelief. "You’re falling for me?"

You nodded shyly, your voice barely above a whisper. "I didn’t know how else to tell you. I thought it would be safer to put it in the card."

Harry let out a soft laugh, his shoulders relaxing as he set the card on the table. "Y/N, you’re incredible, you know that?"

You looked at him, your brows furrowing slightly. "I’m… incredible?"

"Yes," he said firmly, stepping closer. "And for the record, I’ve been falling for you too—hard. I’ve just been too much of a coward to say it outright."

Your heart swelled at his words, and before you could overthink it, you reached out and took his hand.

"So… what now?" you asked, a nervous smile tugging at your lips.

Harry grinned, his thumb gently brushing over your knuckles. "Now, I make this official. Y/N, will you be my girlfriend?"

Your breath hitched, and you couldn’t help the grin that spread across your face. "Yes, Harry. I’d like that."

Relief and happiness washed over Harry as he pulled you into a warm embrace, the wildflowers now forgotten on the table. 

You rested your head on his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart.

"I guess I don’t have to wait until my birthday for the best gift of all," Harry murmured, his voice low and full of affection.

You pulled back slightly to look at him, your eyes shining. "And what’s that?"

"You," he said simply, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your forehead.

��� In the spirit of Harry's 31st Birthday. Here is my gift to the fandom. 💗💗💗

[slightlymad]

L'AMICA GENIALE — ELENA FERRANTE ↳ a special poster for the wonderful and brilliant jo ( @dylanlila ) <33

[amarald-pastry]

So cute!!!

Here's the new oc I was talking about ^^

Name: Nada (and Tutto)

Pronoms: she/her (and Tutto does not care)

Age: young adult, did not keep the count

Specie: human (and creature :3)

Home multiverse: Nadirverse (Mimosa's old home :P)

Timeline: current timeline

Family: orphan but considers Tutto as a family member

Likes: her eyes, grilling meat, pretty places, sleeping under the night sky, Tutto

Dislikes: cucumbers, the color orange, hunger, pain flares from her chronic pain ( left hand)

Relation to my other ocs: has met Jasy a few times, talked with Fancy once before he left.

Trivia:

-Nada is ambidextrous and has chronic pain in her left hand

-Tutto has the habit to rest on her left hand as she said his warm lil' body makes it feel better

-They sometimes play card games but neither now the rules so they make them up

-Nada likes to put things in her mouth when bored or thinking, the lace from her bag is the most common victim to that

-Tutto does nocturnal "walks"

-Tutto is an anomaly in his own specie, unique kind of guy

General story:

Nada has always been used to be pretty independant and lived a part of her life in a random orphanage (she did not care about them much).

After the big War, she ended up roaming around Nadirverse alone. Few were the survivors and most were pretty "hostile".

She somehow ended up in a desertic land where stone doors were littered here and there. A lot of them destroyed, the rest at least damaged. No sign of life except a lone old small house, full of stuff but void of people.

She slowly learned doors were doorways to other places and took to exploring.

The house and the land became her "base".

She met Tutto soon after and they became pals quickly.

Nada has usually a lot of luck which allows her to have a nice life despite the hardships of surviving there.

(She is unaware that her stubborness and skills are nice but the fact all is going so well is also mainly because she got the attention of the multiverse itself whose playing favorite)

Tutto is a smart and energic lil' guy. He feds on magic he finds around. He isn't a heavy eater due to his size but still needs to eat once in a while. He's not very empathetic but he tries his best! Nada is a warm body to sleep on and a fun distraction. Pal to protect.

Bonus:

Tutto zoomies

[starsandnoodles]

Today I did a lot of doodles so I’m going to post them now because I haven’t been posting a lot!!

First, the crossover no one asked for

Second, Taranza picking a fight and being angry because part of my soul needs more bastard Taranza content DESPERATELY. Like guys… feed my soul.

Third, Susie Haltmann but a Gijinka based more or less on my own outfit today (I cannot write T’s very well I apologize if it looks like an R)

And last but not least a drawing of Susie Haltmann I started months ago and finally finished today

[triglycercule]

i think it would be funny for the option choices in something gay to either be Bad or Very Bad

player FINALLY got the affection level with horror to like 60 points and there's a scene where horror's actually trying to be civil with killer maybe he's changing out of the RAGGEDY jacket he had on before and asking killer for his opinion

the option choices are either A) tell him he looks cute ✨✨✨ (-70 affection points 💀) or B) STAB YOURSELF IN THE SOUL (-20 affection points, -100 sanity)

there are no other choices

[match-your-steps]

kinda funny how most programmers would prefer to not have to touch apple products with a ten-foot pole but if you talk to basically any designer over like 25 they'll swear up and down and backwards to friday that nothing could ever hold a candle to any apple product

[bugisbonkerz]

my reaction to ppl hating on some human designs for the main 3 bc they aren’t conventionally attractive 🖕🖕

[mokeonn]

I think the frustrating thing about Spotify recommendations is sometimes it really does introduce me to lots of cool Indie Bands that I really vibe with and allow me to try some new stuff and sometimes it keeps telling me that I need to Listen to Mother Mother (I have not listened to Mother Mother ever and at this point I never will because it is a pride thing.)

Or a random unfunny tiktok joke song from 3 years ago/ a viral YouTube song from over a decade ago.

[bmpmp3]

thank god for indie devs making like tiny little maximum 10 megabyte freeware games on itchio keeping the art of filesize optimization alive. ASSET REUSE FOREVER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[jessamine-rose]

*tenderly grips Aine*

Read my Yandere! Capitano fics here <3

Istg @pranabefall you can’t keep surprising me with fan art of my darlings. Tell me, Aine, do you get some twisted satisfaction out of seeing me cry and scream in your DMs?? AINE WHY—

*clears throat* Ahhhhh thank you so much for drawing this and giving me permission to post this, Aine!! As always, feedback is in the tags~

[red-moon-at-night]

Survivor.

kind of a 'then vs now' comparison (idolhood vs living through everything post-idolhood) but in the same outfit.

the urge to quote "despite everything, it's still you" is very strong right now.

[simcardiac-arrested]

once again sorry to everyone for bringing this to your dashboards. but some of you are like, genuinely delirious. not even in a funny way. & i hope you die. i hope we both die. hand in unlovable hand etc etc

[subsequentibis]

'nother big post of closed species guys i've designed since folks were nice abt the last one :)

mignyans (alien parasite crabs that infect a host and cause the thing-esque meat to manifest on their bodies):

^ free anniversary event design! they do a scavenger hunt every october for traits and it's always a good time

^design i did as a guest artist for the species! using the new mineral deposit trait that was added after the last anniversary event

^ this is one of my favorites i've ever done. i love you channel wvmb you will always be famous to me.

^ this one and the next one were designed based on premade crabs! this one's the same species as the first mignyan i ever designed

^ this one goes with the sun & moon one :) wizard & apprentice

^metalhead!! bloody remnants logo designed by my wonderful fiance

starlyngs (avian creatures that are personified stars i think? i'll be honest i'm less clear on the lore i just think they're neat):

^ shithead extraordinaire who is in trouble all the time for stealing & conning people out of valuables

^ freak.

[leveragehunters]

So...you can basically play Animal Crossing in Fortnite (yes, the shooty multiplayer game)

Not the actual AC game, obviously, there's a distinct lack of bugs, fish, and capitalist racoons, but the island building, decorating, and designing? That's a hell yes.

Turns out Fortnite has a Creative mode where you can just build and design an island with access to a massive catalogue of items and terrain. Everything that exists in the shooty game itself, as far as I can tell. There's galleries of individual items, about anything you could think of, plus prefab buildings/sets you can just plonk down.

Building/designing is pretty intuitive, and you can fly while you do it, which makes it simple to get everything where you want it.

[A pic of a tiny part my first island - it started out completely bare.]

It's seriously fun and scratches the same itch as AC. Highly recommend to anyone who wants to chill out building and designing.

Best part, it's free!

[More info and some example islands under the cut]

Islands people have made using Creative:

If you want to give it a try just install Fortnite (I think it's available on just about every platform/device that exists) and once it starts you'll be in the lobby, looking at your randomly generated character (note: you can't change them without spending money). There's a box on the right hand side of the screen with 'change' at the top (it probably also says 'Battle Royale'). Click it, pick Creative from the options, then Back, then Play. It'll say a bunch of stuff about matchmaking, don't worry about it, then drop you into your My Island rift.

Run up to the display panel, interact with it to pick your island starter type, then run through the golden rift and you'll fall onto your island.

[I suggest going into settings while you're still in the lobby and changing all the social stuff to off, ie set everything in social privacy and game privacy to off/friends only.]

This is a basic guide to using Creative: https://www.pcgamesn.com/fortnite/creative-mode-guide-tips (clickable link).

This is a browser of every available item ('prop'): https://www.fortnitecreativehq.com/prop-browser/ (clickable link)

[stjeromeshospital]

HIIIII!!!!! Im late as hell but, before i get to the art request thing: Ive always been curious about what inspired you to make a lot of your ocs? Like what SPARKED that idea, if anything in particular? Especially for characters like Laika and Audrey!

Also…. Here is my creature son…… I thought you might enjoy him :)

HI MALCALM. i want to say before anything im rlly obsessed bc i think u n me are on the same page in regards to character design that guy with long sharp feature is awesome. like his face shape im obsessed eith i just notice that. i really do fucking love this character design it was fun to draw i need to draw mkre of your chars i never got around to during artfight i can say we both burnt out LAWL

thats a hard quastion but i love you for asking it ehmm its hard because i really dont know i just kind of look at art all the time and what people make and watch and experience and read stuff and 1 small piece of something inspires you until you collect enough small pieces to make 1 big thing. i get inspired by lots of stuff and tuck away whatever i like to use later or i just think alot. these days i dont really have very many OCs that are just "mine" anymore most if not all of them start off as fandom chars and i just make them more complicated until its not abt that anymore. audrey and delainey ar the only characters that i have these days that dont stem from fandom even laika actually is a fan character for my buddy henry's original universe. i like stuff i like what people make and i like that people make things and i like to dance around in them and make stuff up too YAY!

the idea for laika really only exists as it does because of the freedom of the universe theyre in, i wanted to make a character design that is complete nonsense and a premise that i like and think is fun without the restraint of grounding or rulesets, their entire being is based in "i think it would be fun if" and their design is entirely self indulgent. audrey is a different story because he is the oldest character i have and have had, he's gone through a variety of design changes and in fact did not even have a human design until i started posting him on this blog, he had existed for years and years before that. but also he is exactly like laika because he is my MOST self indulgent oc and i do whatever i want to him. having ocs is about smashing them together like barbie