he can never resist giving roses. it's a little cold to sit on the grass, so you sit in his greenhouse and admire his plants. he shows you his favorites. you eat delicious food and drink delicious coffee (and wine) and chat about fashion week.
SIR CROCODILE ---
dinner date followed by a romantic stroll.
he knows blue hydrangeas (and little clowns) are your favorite. he takes you to a place that's fancy, fancy, fancy. it's easy conversation over the food prepared by a pro chef. afterward, he invites you to walk in the nearby park, the trees still lit with fairy lights.
BUGGY ---
museum, coffee, carnival date.
he wakes you with coffee in an adorable new mug and gives you a unique, beautiful bouquet. he wants to go with you to the museum to watch you look at things and touch touchable exhibits. you get coffee afterwards to go over your favorite parts. then you see there's a carnival in town and neither of you can resist heading over.
aftercare except im playing with your hair and telling you what a good job you did at hurting me <3 how you always know exactly what makes me tick and how no one else could ever make me feel all the nasty, depraved things you do. running my fingers over your skin and thanking you for all the bruises you give me. you're so good at knowing just how much pain i want. telling you that this is exactly why i give myself over to you so easily. exactly why you've earned it <3
Character who's a third wheel, but in the same way that a tricycle has three wheels. You technically might be able to remove him, but it's going to be a lot less stable and a lot more likely to result in someone's death if you do.
Developing a sick fixation on the bagel guy I get breakfast from every Friday on my way to work. I have visited his stall thrice and each time he hears my order, shakes his head, and gives me a slightly different version of my order that tastes better than what I'd originally asked for
Today I asked for a plain lox spread bagel and he gave me an everything bagel with a lox, scallion, and dill spread and it fucks so heavy. Moaning at work rn
No i will not tell you who this is or where. This is MY parasocial relationship with a bagel guy who is doing a kind of customer service dom thing to me. You guys don't get to HAVE him [eyes start glowing as I growl]
You ask him out on a date and he hears your request, shakes his head, and takes you on a slightly different version of the date that feels more fulfilling than what you'd originally asked for.
Cry For Me, Part 1
Pairing: Crocodile/Buggy
Rating: Explicit
Words: 2800
Summary: Crocodile has come to an unfortunate realization. He gets turned on by Buggy's tears.
Notes/Tags: Dubious Consent, Dacryphilia, Its wet and messy and a little gross, rough blowjob. Happy Birthday Crocodile LMAO
AO3 Link
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(Art by @star-clown-chaoz, check out either of his Twitter pages:
https://x.com/StarClownChaoz
https://x.com/Chaoz_san )
🐊🎪🐊🎪🐊🎪🐊🎪🐊🎪🐊🎪🐊🎪🐊🎪🐊🎪🐊🎪
It’s been happening with alarming frequency. At first he thought it was simply a coincidence. An unfortunate fluke. But then it happened again. And again. And now he couldn’t deny it anymore. Crocodile kept getting hard whenever Buggy cried. And the clown cried a lot.
He tried everything: Masturbating. Sleeping with strangers. Abstaining. Adjusting his sleep schedule. Changing his diet. He even tried hurting himself whenever he started to get aroused by Buggy’s tears. But nothing worked. The only thing he hadn’t tried was indulging himself, acting out his fantasy. But to make that happen, he’d have to do the most demeaning thing he could think of: ask Buggy for a favor.
He’d resisted this last resort for a little while, but things were getting desperate. He couldn’t live everyday like this, unable to control his body’s reactions from the sight and sound of a literal clown. If there was one thing he prided himself on, it was his control. He needed to nip this in the bud; perhaps his problems would go away if he sold Buggy after all?
Crocodile subtly looked over at Buggy who was obviously pretending to pay attention, doodling pictures on his notepad instead. And the unhelpful urge to yell at him, to beat him, so he could see his tears taunted him at every little slight.
Control. He had to maintain control.
Buggy’s eyes met his and he flinched, quickly covering the notepad with his hand and averting his eyes.
Idiot.
Crocodile grabbed the cigar from his lips, sharp words on the tip of his tongue, more than ready to jab, to hurt him. But he kept silent. He should be paying attention to the meeting, not thinking about ways to make Buggy cry.
Not even twenty minutes into the meeting and Buggy started crying anyway. Crocodile wasn’t even the one that made him start. Mihawk got short with him (a rarity compared to how often Crocodile told him off), the sharp words Crocodile had thought were expressed by the swordsman as if he could read his mind. Mihawk reprimanded Buggy’s lack of attention, took the clown's notepad, and shred it to pieces. He threatened to do it to Buggy if he didn’t focus.
And now Buggy sat ‘silently’ crying, tears streaming down his face, sniffling, his lower lip wobbling, catching between his teeth every so often. Crocodile was the one having a hard time focusing now. He couldn’t take his eyes off of Buggy, he wanted to take that painted face and mess it up even more, wanted to see those fat tears leave dark streaks of mascara down his cheeks. Crocodile grit his teeth and subtly adjusted himself in his seat. He was rock hard now, so much for keeping himself in check. But Buggy looked so vulnerable, like a perfect little doll to ruin. Crocodile swallowed down his groan, trying to think about anything else. Taxes, time-sheets, shipments.
Buggy’s tears didn’t slow down, instead he started whimpering and Crocodile gripped the arm on his chair hard enough to have it creak under his fingers. He fought the urge to move, locked in place only by his own self-control. He wanted to grab Buggy by his hair, make him whine and cry out, wanted to throw him on his knees and shove his cock down his throat, wanted to see the tears streaming down his face as he swallowed him down.
Crocodile had long forgotten his cigar, the butt still smoldering in an ashtray. He needed something to ground him, something to chew on so he didn’t accidentally speak or make a sound he’d regret. He was too distracted by Buggy to do much of anything, too distracted to realize Mihawk finished his presentation and now Crocodile was expected to speak and wrap up the meeting.
Buggy looked over at him, his face wet, snot running down over his lips, his makeup blurring on the edges. Crocodile wanted to take his thumb and smear it over Buggy’s lips, wanted to dip his fingers into his wet pink mouth. Buggy’s eyes widened, fearful, shrinking into his seat and Crocodile felt a surge of lust, the pit of his stomach hollow like he was aching to devour him.
“I’ll assume the meeting’s over.” Mihawk stood from his seat, only giving a passing glance to Buggy and Crocodile as he walked by. Crocodile snapped out of his lust-driven haze, eyes following Mihawk’s back as he paused at the door. He didn’t turn back but said, “Whatever you’re planning on doing to the clown, just don’t kill him.” With that he left, closing the door behind him, sealing them in together.
Buggy let out a yelp at Mihawk’s words, whipping his head to Crocodile who stood from his seat. He wasn’t going to hide this anymore, his erection obvious in his well tailored pants. He was going to live out his fantasy, he was going to break this agonizing curse, and he was going to enjoy himself.
Buggy’s jaw dropped as soon as he saw Crocodile’s obvious arousal, panic and confusion clear in his wide eyes as they flicked between his face and his dick,
“C-Croccy!! I-I…uh, should get going too! I’m really busy today! Yeah! Absolutely swamped!” Buggy scrambled out of his seat, his whole body shaking like a leaf, breaking apart within his stupid red costume and stretching away.
Now this was the moment Crocodile had dreaded. To get what he wanted, what he needed, he had to throw away his pride. He despised it. It was a different kind of humiliation to endure, asking this of Buggy, but he ached for it, ached for him. Desperately.
“Buggy.” He started, his voice deep, almost gentle, immediately catching Buggy’s attention, making him freeze. “I need…” Fuck, he did not want to finish his sentence. He didn’t like being at the mercy of his body, and worse, at the mercy of Buggy.
His tongue darted out, wetting his lips. He needed his cigar but it burnt down to nothing while he was distracted, another problem caused by the clown. He huffed, taking another step forward and Buggy flinched but he didn’t move, eyes still roaming over Crocodile’s body and back to his face.
“Buggy,” he tried again, taking another step forward, “I need to fuck you.”
Crocodile stared down at him and Buggy looked up, shocked, not even blinking. A beat passed and then Buggy screeched, “WHAAAATT!?!?!” He zoomed upward, as if he could run away from the conversation.
“Don’t joke about that! You’re trying to make me look like a fool, aren’t you?” Buggy accused, a disembodied hand pointing a finger at him as he crossed his arms. But his brow creased, white teeth worrying his bottom lip as he refused to meet Crocodile’s eye.
“You do that just fine by yourself.” Crocodile muttered under his breath. Buggy looked down at him with a raised brow and Crocodile let out a frustrated sigh. “I mean it. I'm asking if you’ll let me fuck you. Its...” Crocodile's fingers went to his lips, a natural reaction when he felt stressed. But there was no cigar to comfort him now. He brushed his fingers over his mouth and continued. “I’ve tried to ignore it. But I can’t keep avoiding it.” He took a deep breath.
He really didn’t think it could get worse than asking Buggy to fuck him, but he realized that he’d have to admit aloud that he was turned on by his crying. It was a far more embarrassing prospect than asking for sex from a guy he found annoying.
“I..” he hesitated, as if the words were stuck. He wouldn’t be able to take this back. Buggy could ruin his life with this information, but he needed to be inside this stupid clown. How could he become a man bound to his baser needs? Oh how far he’d fallen.
“Whenever you cry, when you’re messing up your pretty makeup, when you’re making those pathetic sounds,... it...” Crocodile’s throat bobbed as he swallowed, but he admitted the worst part out loud, “it turns me on.”
He stood still, keeping his face as neutral as he could manage while he felt like he was sweating through his shirt. Buggy gave him a skeptical look, as if this was all a big joke. It set Crocodile off.
He grabbed Buggy by his beautiful blue hair and gripped it tightly, making the clown wince and squirm, his hands wrapping around Crocodile’s wrist to ease the pain.
“I won’t beg, clown. I want to fuck you and I want you to cry while we do it.” He hissed. “Tell me yes or no.” He held onto Buggy, who tried to escape his grasp.
Buggy stopped his movement as soon as he processed what Crocodile said and looked up at him with tears welling in his eyes.
“Y-you’re serious? You…you like me that much?” Buggy asked quietly, his eyes large and wet, his red lips in a cute pout. Crocodile’s cock twitched at the sight of Buggy right in front of him. Whatever the clown decided, he'd accept it. He wanted it, but he wouldn’t force it on him... yet. Buggy’s face twisted suddenly, disgust and confusion in one, “Wait a minute, did you just say you want to fuck me while I cry?”
Crocodile’s face burned, and he threw Buggy away from him, boiling with anger and shame.
“Forget we had this conversation. You tell anyone about this and I’ll gut you.” Crocodile snatched up his coat and took two strides before Buggy grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled, the rest of him floating in front of his face.
“Wait wait wait!!! Don’t be so hasty! I didn’t say no! I just…well I had to make sure I understood!” Buggy tried to give him a reassuring smile but he looked worried, the sheen on his forehead giving him away.
Crocodile stayed stone-faced, weighing his options. He didn't have many other choices, so he lingered.
“So what if you get off to my tears! We all have hang-ups! No one’s perfect! And I’m not going to pass up an opportunity as good as this one.” Buggy wrapped an arm around his shoulder, pulling Crocodile close enough for their cheeks to smush together.
“How about we talk terms?”
Crocodile could feel the vein in his forehead pulsing. This was exactly what he was worried about, that Buggy would forget his place.
Crocodile grabbed Buggy by the back of the neck and pinned him to the meeting table, pressing his face into the hard surface.
“Don’t get cocky, clown. I told you the terms. Yes or no.” He growled as he bent over him. Buggy was so warm beneath him, their bodies now close enough to touch. Crocodile couldn’t help himself, he rutted against Buggy as he leaned over him. He felt a sick kind of excitement, holding him down, using his ass for his own pleasure. He moved his hips away, creating some distance between his dick and Buggy’s ass.Was he a man or a dog? He needed to get himself in check.
“YES! My answer is yes! Just don’t hurt me anymore, ok?” Buggy pleaded; his words slurred from his cheek pressed against the table.
Crocodile released him, feeling a thrill at getting what he wanted. He flipped Buggy onto his back and held his chin in his large hand.
“Keep the tears flowing and I won’t have to make you cry.” He murmured, pulling Buggy to slide off the table and onto his knees. Buggy looked up at him in surprise, his hair messy and hat missing from the rough treatment. Crocodile unbuttoned his pants and pushed them down just enough to release his cock.
“Wh-whoa! What? You mean right now? But I'm not prepared! I need to-” Buggy gasped as Crocodile cut him off, yanking him up by his hair. He pulled him so sharply that Buggy detached from his neck.
“I’m going to use your mouth, clown. I want you to cry, and make it messy for me.” He held Buggy at eye level as he continued, "And when I’m done, I’m taking you back to my room and fucking you until you can’t cry anymore. Understand?” Buggy’s mouth worked but no sound came out, his eyes large and round.
“Answer me.” Crocodile snapped, shaking Buggy.
“Yes sir!” Buggy yelped, tears beginning to well up.
Crocodile moaned softly, releasing Buggy’s hair, letting him float down to his body. He hooked Buggy behind his neck, pulled his head to be level with his dick and smacked it against his lips.
“Go on, let the tears fall.” Crocodile encouraged, pushing his dick against Buggy’s face.
Buggy’s eyes slid closed and he let the tears welling in his eyes squeeze out, two perfect droplets ran parallel down his face. Slowly he opened his eyes, looking through wet eyelashes up at Crocodile, his eyes watery.
Crocodile groaned low in his throat and rubbed his cock over the tears, dragging it back to Buggy’s lips, pushing at them. He looked so sexy like this, so submissive and vulnerable. Buggy opened his mouth, sticking out his tongue to let Crocodile in and he pushed in roughly, gripping Buggy’s hair again. He could feel him choke, feel him gag, and more tears fell, but Buggy did his best to maintain eye contact.
“Fuck.” Crocodile breathed, mesmerized by Buggy’s face. This was exactly what he wanted, to see Buggy crying while he had a mouthful of his cock.
He pulled back until just his tip was at Buggy’s lips before sliding in as deep as Buggy could take him. Tears continued to roll down his face, his mascara beginning to run. Buggy swallowed around him, spit bubbling at the corners of his lips, his nose oozing snot.
So messy. So perfectly ruined. Crocodile slowly pushed into Buggy’s mouth, pulling back out and sinking deeper each time until Buggy sticky red nose was pressed to his pelvis.
Crocodile felt like his eyes could roll back in his head, the pleasure so intense, but he didn’t want to miss a single moment, wanted to watch every second of Buggy’s face. Buggy’s throat was so tight, working against him, desperate to expel him. He stayed deep inside of Buggy’s throat until he started turning purple, until his hands clawed at his thighs, until his head tried to frantically pull way. Crocodile pulled out, letting his cock drop from Buggy’s slick lipstick smeared lips.
Buggy coughed and panted, the tears flowing down his cheeks, dark tracks clear on his face, the charcoal drops hanging off his chin, falling onto the floor and Crocodile’s shoes.
Buggy looked up at him, wheezing, wiping at his nose and mouth. Crocodile gripped himself, stroking his cock. It was irritating. Irritating how much pleasure he felt from looking at the stupid clown. The arousal that surged through him from seeing his wet face, his smeared makeup, his puffy lips made his cock pulse, like he was teetering on the edge of his climax.
“Croc-” Buggy whispered hoarsely, and the sound of his weak broken voice had Crocodile gripping himself tighter, gritting his teeth and groaning.
“Open.” He growled, pressing his cock to Buggy’s mouth once again, wanting to cum on his tongue and face.
Buggy opened his mouth, sticking out his long tongue. Crocodile kept stroking himself, his thick tip leaking as he rubbed himself over the slick muscle. Buggy panted, his hot breath ghosting over Crocodile’s heavy cock. He blinked back tears from his eyes, rubbing himself over his clothes as he sat obediently, waiting for Crocodile’s cum. The sight of Buggy like this was going to help fuel his fantasies for weeks.
“You want it?” Crocodile grunted, hand moving quickly.
“Uh huh.” Buggy made the sound with his throat, keeping his mouth open.
Crocodile moaned low and long, thick strings of cum splattered onto Buggy’s tongue. He jerked the last few spurts onto Buggy’s nose and cheeks, finishing with a sigh. His chest heaved with his effort, a curl of arousal and satisfaction swirling in his belly at watching Buggy swallow every drop he left on his tongue.
“You’re my messy little bitch, aren’t you?” Crocodile murmured, smearing his cum across his Buggy’s face.
“Yes sir.” Buggy whispered, squirming, his erection obvious.
Crocodile placed his large hand on the top of Buggy’s head. “Looks like I’ll have to take care of you, hmm?”
Buggy looked up at him with large wet eyes, his makeup totally ruined.
He seemed so small like this, like a little pet, staring up at him with his stupid cute face. And he felt a surge of possessiveness, wanting to keep Buggy, to hold him, to own him…
“Get cleaned up, I’m taking you back to mine. I’m not done with you.”
prompt fill for @penguinweek day 4 (revenge); also a prompt fill for @fourormore 's bingo challenge for "awkward conversations"
fandoms: one piece (main); hbo's the penguin
ship: au of mainverse oz / dylan / cross guild polycule -- everything's the same except oz was gone for ~3 years
rating: M
summary: oz comes back after being gone and discovers a new addition to their little family. mihawk gives him a warning; dylan plans their revenge.
tags: 2nd person pov, light angst but it's more of a hurt/comfort vibe, fankid lol, genderfluid self insert oc, protective mihawk, some light D/s between dylan and oz at the very end, 1532 words
Oz is looking at you like you have three heads, probably because the last time he saw you it was over three years ago and a lot’s changed since then. For starters, the almost-two year old on your hip right now, staring at the man with eyes as wide as yours (same color, too.)
Her voice grounds you back to reality, “Baba? Who this?”
“This is Oz,” you say softly, unable to disguise your shock.
He says Hi, Sweetheart and she smiles, big, and it reminds you of too many things, your head spinning. You turn to look at her, kissing her cheek, “My little darling,” you coo as you set her down. “Could you go find Coco? I’ll bet he has some strawberries for you.”
Draculaura cheers for strawberries, racing out of the room, which makes you smile. “That’s your daughter, right?” You nod, turning to face Oz. “She’s beautiful.”
“Why are you here?” You ask and it’s the thing that makes tears well your eyes.
“I’m sorry, Doll, I –”
“Three years,” you’re trying to keep your voice down; you don’t want Draculaura to hear. “And I’m so – so fucking mad at you but I – “ You take a breath, shaking your head and this is what makes your tears fall: “I missed you.”
Against your better judgement, you press your face against his chest. You don’t want to look at him, but you don’t want him to be any further away. Oz puts his arms around you, stroking through your hair and if you close your eyes it feels the same as it did before he left (and that scares you.)
“I’m so sorry, Dylan.” Him using your name has always been rare, you can’t even remember the last time it was that and not Doll or Sweetheart. “I’m so fuckin’ sorry, I – I almost didn’t come back but I just…I missed you so much. This was the best place I’ve ever been, best place I could ever hope ta’be.”
You squeeze him, sniffling, “Come in. You’ve traveled a long way.”
You know that you need to talk about this but you also don’t want to be mad at Oz, not really, not when he did make the effort to come see you and maybe even be part of this again. As much as you want to yell at him for making you feel abandoned after making you feel so incredible, you can’t find the words.
Buggy’s the first one to calm you down, greeting Oz like no time had passed, happy, babbling excitedly about their newest star. He whipped out the baby pictures and that also made it hard to be angry in general, not when you’re looking at swaddled images of Draculaura, so small she couldn’t even hold her own head up.
It strikes you that part of what hurts so much about this is Oz missing it.
“Can I talk to you, Pretty Boy? Just us?” You ask, nodding to your shared bedroom.
Buggy looks from you to Oz back to you with big blue eyes, “Of course, of course my Star Act. One second, Oz, make yourself comfortable in the living room.”
You get to the safety of your bedroom and as soon as he closes the door, you speak softly, “You’re okay with bringing him back into this?”
“Of course. We love him. And he loves us, he came back.”
“It doesn’t matter that it’s been…so long?”
Buggy shakes his head, taking a step forward to take both your hands in his, “I know you’re hurt, Pretty Boy. I know how much him leaving hurt you. But three years to a pirate…it’s nothing. There are islands two years away.” He squeezes your hands, “Doesn’t it matter more that he wanted to come back to us?”
You sob, taking him into your arms and kissing him, “How are you so wise?”
“Been doin’ this a long time.” Buggy assures, kissing you again. “Let’s show him everything. There’s a lot to catch him up on.”
You’re surprised to know that Crocodile has pretty much the same reaction. He appears in the living room not long after the three of you sit down, little Draculaura in tow on his hip.
Sir Crocodile wears fatherhood well. These days, he looks more relaxed than ever and there’s a gentleness about him, a lightness too. For safety, he’d taken to wearing rubber over his hook, matching it to whatever outfit he had on. Today it was purple, of all colors.
“Well, look who’s here,” he ribs but he’s smiling, “have you met Draculaura?”
“Only for a second, she had a date with some strawberries,” Oz says with a smile.
“Sounds about right, our little strawberry princess,” he says adoringly, handing her over to you.
You smile and take her into your arms. “Can you say hi to Oz, sweetie?”
“Oz…Hi,” she says, waving before looking at you. “Baba? Sleepy.”
“Okay, lovey, let’s get you ready for a nap, then. Oz…” You turn to him, smiling sheepishly, “Would you like to join us?”
Your heart melts when you watch him say goodnight to Draculaura; it's seamless, like he's done this a hundred times before. You sing to her like usual and Oz watches you, a soft smile on his face. You look to him when she settles in and start snoring, taking his hand and heading back to the living room with the others.
You all have late night snacks and drinks together, you laugh and you swap stories and in a lot of ways it feels like Oz had never even left. Everything feels like it’s falling into place in a way you hadn’t felt since you had Draculaura but you’re also cautious – you don’t want to get your hopes up, you don’t even know if he intends to stay.
You try not to think about it when you’re getting into your pajamas.
You come back out to see if Oz plans on joining you soon, but you hear Mihawk’s terse voice in the kitchen, “Glad I got you alone for a moment.” Buggy and Crocodile had long gone to go do a scene together so you’re almost certain he’s talking to Oz. “There’s something that I want to say to you.”
“I know the others have welcomed you back with open arms.” Mihawk pauses, giving the words weight. “Dylan specifically was devastated when they thought you weren’t coming back, though.”
“I know, I – ”
“I’m not finished.” Mihawk’s voice is firm. “I can see how happy you’ve made them now that you’ve returned. I can see that they’re going to forgive you if they haven’t already. And if it was just them, just us, I might not say anything.” His voice lowers, “But there is a little one involved now, and just because you weren’t here for her arrival doesn’t mean you get to pretend that circumstances haven’t changed.”
“I wasn’t – “
“Quiet.” Quick, authoritative. “What I mean by that is if you’re not planning on committing and staying, then you need to move along before the weekend’s over. If you’re going to hurt them again, make it quick before Draculaura gets attached too.”
“Okay. Yeah, got it. I don’t plan on leavin’, though. If they want me here, I wanna – I do wanna stay.”
“Think about what that means. Really think about it, Oz. Because if you leave again and decide in five weeks or five years you want a place with us, I will personally see to it that you don’t get through the front door. Are we clear?”
“Crystal, Sir.”
Mihawk spends the night with an ear on Draculaura, leaving you and Oz alone to catch up more thoroughly. You’re beyond grateful. On the way to the bedroom, Mihawk pauses you with a cool hand on the inside of your wrist, leaning to your ear, “If he makes you feel anything but complete rapture tonight, you let me know.”
You thank him. He tells you it’s nothing, but it’ll never be nothing to you.
You have Oz on your bed (shared, usually, with Buggy) and he’s looking up at you, about to say something when you press a finger to his lips. “I’ve been thinking about it,” you say in your most sultry Dom-voice, “and we need to discuss your punishment.”
He smiles almost like the notion’s calmed him down and he nods, “Yes, Your Highness. What did you have in mind?”
You hum and shift your shoulders, letting your silken robe fall to the floor, “I was thinking that maybe for tonight, you’re not allowed to touch me until I say you can touch me.” You step forward and take his hand, taking his index finger into your mouth. Oz groans and you know he must be more touch-starved than usual for this much to get him going.
The finger pops out of your mouth and you smirk, “Is that acceptable to you, Sweet Boy?” The old pet name still feels familiar, like you’re coming back home.
Oz’s eyes are wide, soft, like he’s breathless and you’re hitting all the right buttons, “Yes, My Liege. I’ll do anything you want.”
afkg,bkgfjb i completely forgot to make a pinned post which tbh is so funny to me, i really was like "mmmm you see what's going on here, figure it out yourselves" xD
MY FIRST COMMISSION BABY YEAHHHH my good friend @scare-ard--sleigh commissioned this piece of their oc and buggy!! I don’t watch one piece but this was so fun to draw, I’m so happy with how it came out!
