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whatupcherry · 6 hours
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IM SCREAMING???????? IVE BEEN WANTING SOME FORM OF NUN X VALERIA FOR SO LONG??
Broken Hallelujah
Requested: No
Warnings: Female!Reader (Female genitalia and use of the word girl), Nun!Reader, Succubus!Valeria, fingering, the sapphic yearning of a nun and a succubus. Idk man, it’s actually pretty tame because everytime I thought about this idea my brain went fuzzy.
She was here again.
You could feel it, the fiery lustful stare that bore into your closed eyes. The almost non existent press of her body against yours, like she was floating just above you. You opened your eyes, once more expecting to see the brief flash of black hair and curved horns, hear the flap of leathery wings. But none of that this time, unusual for her. She liked having you know that she was there, a living ghost that haunted your steps. Ice cold fingers trailing down the spokes of your spine, breathe hot like burning coals on the back of your neck as you laced your fingers together and prayed. Prayed for forgiveness from your sins, from the wet and wanton heat that dripped between your thighs, praying for salvation after fucking yourself to the sound of demonic giggles and the feel of ghost-like touches.
Praying for forgiveness for never asking for protection instead. Unable to even think the words, unwilling to think them. Because you knew deep in your heart, in your bones, in your soul.
You didn’t want her gone.
You liked having her around. Liked her touches, her voice, her heat. You liked the little glimpses you could get of her, lingering in your shadow, the silhouette of her fingers entangling with hers. For the first time in a very long time, you felt full. Full of warmth and want and devoid of the pain and loneliness that had often plagued your heart. Those feelings were what drove you towards your faith. The idea that even when scorned by the people around you, there was someone that loved you. Even if just one person that you could never see or feel or hear, someone cared. Cared enough to die for you, take you into their arms some day when your time was up.
But she was none of those things. She was solid, though not always visible. But you knew she was there. You didn’t have to have faith when you knew the facts of her. When she, at times, felt more real than you or the people around you did.
“Mi Sol.” The wind whispered, curling in your ear and sending heat running down your spine. Sinful pleasure unlike anything else.
“Mi Luna.” You whispered back, shuddering when you felt something akin to claws running down your back, the scratch of them burning pleasantly. You couldn’t help but imagine those same nails running over your belly, along your breasts, against your throat. Leaving trails of blood in their wake.
Temptation. As sweet as it was sinful.
You shuddered in the sudden absence of her warmth, a pitiful whine catching in your throat, choking you like the noose the devil wrapped around your throat when he sent his demoness to haunt your shadow.
You forced a breath, fingers shaking when you reached for the veil placed on your nightstand. Black fabric just within reach before it was suddenly thrown across the room, concealed in a corner too dark to be seen by the light of your candle.
“Mi sol.” She growled again, more insistent, and you could feel her breath like fire against the crook of your neck, her plush lips dragging up to wrap around your lobe, wet tongue sliding along your flesh. “Mía. Mía. Mía.”
“Mi Luna.” You whimper, thighs twitching when your nightgown seems to lift all on its own, invisible fingers ghosting along the band of your underwear, the tips dipping under the elastic to trail over the curve of your belly, petting down the soft hairs that lay there.
“What is it you want, Mi Sol?” She asks, sharpened teeth pricking at your skin, sure to draw blood if you moved even slightly. “You have to tell me. You have to say it.”
“I can’t.” Is your weak reply, one that earns you a sharp bite to the meat of your shoulder, forcing a heavy cry from your lips.
“You have to say it, Mi Sol.” She hisses, warm fingers sliding lower, combing through the thick patch of curls between your legs before descending even lower, just barely out of reach of that bundle of nerves at the apex of your sex. “You have to say it or I can’t give you what you want.”
“I can’t.” You try to persist, swiftly punished with a hard pinch to your aching clit that had you crying out with pain, hips jerking forward.
“You can.” She says, and you could practically hear the condescending sneer she must be wearing on her face. “And you will.”
It was the last thing she said before ripping your underwear from you, calloused fingertips immediately zeroing in on your twitching hole, rubbing around it in loose circles, playing with the wetness that laid there while her other hand moved to cup your breast, weighing it in her hand before giving it a firm squeeze that had you shaking.
“So beautiful, Mi Sol.” She hummed, thumbing at your hardened pearl for only a moment before stopping, almost pulling her whole hand away when your whole body twitched and you tried to reach for her invisible fingers. “So beautiful, and all mine to do with as I please.”
The words made you choke, as did the slick fingers she shoved into your mouth, the taste of your own essence staining your tastebuds, pressing down on your tongue under you obediently started to lap at them, arousal making your cheeks warm.
“Beautiful girl. Prettiest thing I’ve ever met in my long life.” Valeria whispered, raking her nails down your breast before pressing her fingers into the divots between your ribs, feeling the reverberation of your rapid heartbeat, the heat of your skin through the cloth. “Gorgeous thing.”
You whimpered, head tilting back to let your moans flow free, thighs twitching and jerking when she pulled her fingers from your mouth to press them against your tight hole, two fingers, too fast and too quickly, the stretch burning without the proper foreplay beforehand.
“Say it.” She huffed, prying her fingers apart inside your slick walls, cool air tickling your insides.
“Mi Luna.” You whine, shaking your head, red hole contracting around her, begging for her to ease up on her harsh attentions.
“Yes, Mi Sol?” She says, an encouraging coo as she closes her fingers again, curling them to stroke at that little spot inside you that had you drooling. A reward, motivation to keep going.
“I want you.” You say, voice breaking on a sob when she growled, fingers going rougher and faster, her other hand clawing at the bodice of your gown desperately. “I-I only want you, Mi Luna. You’re all I need, please please please please-”
Your orgasm crashes over you like a wave, rough and uncaring, sweeping you out to the murky sea, leaving you shivering and shaken. Disorienting you so much that you didn’t even notice her putting you on your back or tearing your nightgown off for better access to your body. Only coming to when she crawled above you, no longer invisible. Beautiful and proud, wings outstretched above you, eyes glowing in the dim light. Hunger shining in them, building dread in your belly.
“Did you think we were done?” She chuckled, quirking a brow in disbelief.
Your only response was to gulp, biting down on your already swollen bottom lip.
It would seem you really did make a deal with a devil. Not that you could find it in yourself to regret it.
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whatupcherry · 9 hours
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Hi! What pet names do you think Valeria, Kate and Farah liked to be called? do they have a favorite pet name to be called? thank you!! take care!!🎀🩷
Hey there! I think these are their preferences :>
Pet Names Valeria, Farah and Laswell Like
Valeria: I’ve said it before, and I will say it again: Call her “jefa” and she’ll love you forever. Yes, she’s the boss among the both of you, that much is obvious to just about anyone who has ever met the both of you. However, the implication that the both of you are family is nice. She’s never really thought about it, she doesn’t think about marriage and all that it encompasses all that often, but she loves you dearly and wouldn’t mind being family with you. Other than that, you can try to use Spanish nicknames with her. She won’t always react to them, but her heart would sometimes feel warm upon hearing you use her native language. Especially if you’re putting some effort into actively learning it.
Farah: She’s very open to any kinds of nicknames you could give her. You could call her a little cutie or your personal little limpet, she doesn’t mind either. However, if you really want her to melt, then you should call her something sappy and sweet in Arabic. Her personal favorite would be “ya gamar”, though. There’s just something so romantic and beautiful about being called someone’s “moon”. Every time you call her that, she’ll smile at you, maybe even put her head on your shoulder. Hell, if she’s feeling especially playful and you’re alone, she might just wrap her arms around you and nuzzle into you. She gets a bit playful as well and will retaliate with some Arabic of her own, especially if you don’t speak the language. But she truly appreciates you trying for her. If you speak Arabic then she won’t ever stop being sappy with you in that language anyway.
Laswell: She doesn’t particularly care too much for pet names, especially not when being on the receiving end. Sure, she’ll call you her “sweetheart” from time to time, but she doesn’t do it as often as, say, Farah. So you can call her just about anything that is nice and she’ll smile at you. I don’t think she has a favorite pet name to be called either, she just takes whatever it is you dish out. If you call her something sweet then there’s a chance she’ll call you something sweet back in retaliation. But she won’t always do it, sometimes she’ll just hold your hand for a bit instead before letting go again and resuming what she was doing at that moment. Pet names aren’t the most important thing to her, she has other ways of showing her affection.
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whatupcherry · 10 hours
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Fiona Apple photographed by Spiros Politis, 1996
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whatupcherry · 11 hours
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E.R. (1994-2009) Surrender (S07E12)
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whatupcherry · 11 hours
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[Begin ID: "Gif of a red and white tabby having his tummy pet by a big hand" End ID]
hmmmm my tummied
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whatupcherry · 14 hours
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I’d die for Kate Laswell.
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whatupcherry · 18 hours
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whatupcherry · 19 hours
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My beloved posh, I am on my hands and knees asking for a quick kisses 🤝 holding jaw combo (52 in the kiss prompt and 53 in the touch prompt list) 💙
Dot, light of my life, I wrote this for you all in one sitting.
Kate Laswell x June (Laswell's future wife) Wordcount: 1.2k a/n: this takes place in the early/mid 90s while Laswell and (future) wife are in their 20s. CW a bit of language, and implied sexism and homophobia. Takes place in my paranormal au, but nothing paranormal happens here. Also i know nothing about the navy, my apologies.😭 And ALSO the oil rig setting is all @dotcie's idea! thank you for your beautiful brain it was such a good suggestion
Writing Prompt Masterlist
The oil platform looms over the surface of the ocean - as much as anything can loom over something so vast. Decommissioned a year now, and presently owned by the United States government–for research and training, they said. Outwardly, the Navy manned the retrofitted platform, and if Kate squinted just right, it felt like she was aboard a frigate.  
A leak brought her here. One of secrets, not water. The research conducted on site is top secret, classified at the highest level. Reports are manually delivered under guard, point A to point B, no middleman. No paper trails. To know of this site and its research, one needed security clearance well above her level. And somehow information still leaked straight to civilians, which was as confusing as it was dangerous.
One thing was certain: Kate Laswell was a bulldog with a deft hand at extracting and analyzing intel from both human and data targets. So, when personnel from this non-existent, decommissioned oil rig started being named in a conspiracy periodical (fancying itself to be a real world Lone Gunman), it whipped the intelligence community into a frenzy, and Kate’s supervisor brought her in. 
Temporary clearance was provided, and under the guise of regularly scheduled debriefs and inspections, the two of them got to work to patch the breakdown in security.
Investigation and analysis…was a slog. No better word for it.
Despite their airtight cover, they were still newcomers. Whether consciously or not, the people stationed at the rig developed a wariness to outsiders usually found in small, isolated towns.
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Kate sighs and presses her palms to her eyes, trying to force the bleariness from them. The logbooks and sheets of time codes were not getting any easier to read. Not with the scant hours of sleep she received. And god, were her fingers shaking for a smoke.
Despite no longer processing oil, the site kept to old safety procedures. No smoking on the platform, except in retrofitted “smoking cabins”. Didn’t take more than two or three people before it felt claustrophobic. Wasn’t keen on getting so familiar with most of the crew here. Not when they were the subject of her investigations.
However, there was a limit to this concern, and she had hit it 30 seconds ago. 
She tugged on her jacket and winter gear before stepping out into the frigid sub arctic air. Was desperate, couldn’t hold off any longer. She’d concentrate better after she indulged, she reasons.
Peering across at the cabin, the lights were off, and all was quiet. It’s early enough, there’s a good chance she’ll have a peaceful, solitary smoke as the sun rises. 
Hurries over, and the door is still creaking shut as she lights up. The sharp snap of her lighter brings a welcome flame, its light illuminating the cabin. A face stares back at her, the flickering yellow glinting in dark brown eyes. There’s a chuckle as she nearly drops it. 
This unexpected companion reaches for a panel of buttons and Kate shields her eyes from the sudden burst of light.
Petty Officer June Hobbes.
Wearing her blue coveralls, with US NAVY stamped across one side of her chest, and HOBBES stamped across the other. The other reason she was avoiding the smoking cabins. A hookup from one lonely weekend in Annapolis. Of all the places to be reunited, a top-secret site off the coast of Alaska was not on her list. Until now, they had been avoiding each other. Or rather, Kate had been avoiding her. Proving herself on this mission was more important than whatever happened between them. Whatever she still wanted to happen between them.
It really was.
Except.
June’s jet-black hair is pinned neatly to the base of her neck, and Kate can’t help but remember how long it was, how it looked cascading loosely over her shoulders. 
She inhales and reminds herself where they are. Curiously, the other woman isn’t smoking. On instinct, Kate offers her semi-crushed box of Newports. It seems the polite thing to do. 
“Thanks, but no. Trying to kick it.” 
She stares at the petty officer with a cocked brow and an offered cigarette dangling from her fingers. June stares back, her eyes scanning her from head to toe. 
“Fuck.” She leans forward, snatching it from her fingers and clamping it between her lips. “Can’t say no to a pretty face.”
Kate curbs her expression expertly but can’t stop the blush from warming her cheeks.
“Interesting place to be if you’re hoping to quit.”
She makes a muffled noise around the menthol. With a flick of her wrist, Kate ignites the lighter and watches breathlessly as June leans the cigarette into the dancing flame. Studying the curve of her ears, the mole on her neck-the one that's hidden by her uniform until she stretches a certain way. Parts her lips had touched, parts she wished she could touch again.
“Hoping the smell would curb the cravings.”
“That so?” She lights her own before shoving the package back into her jacket pocket. Looks over with a skeptic’s eye. 
“Fine. Ok. I figured you'd show up here. The way you went through cartons the--last time.”
Kate offers a faint smile and plays dumb. “Is that right? Need me to pass on a report or something?”
“Hmm.” She takes another drag. “There’s 20 minutes before next watch, if you want to fool around.”
She doesn’t respond right away. Can’t. Sits next to her and inhales the smoke thoughtfully.
Finally, “It’s filthy. And not soundproof.” And you’re a conflict of interest, and I need to be objective, and the men in my office can barely handle working with a woman, I’m not handing them a rope to hang me. 
June shrugs and leans in. Kate presses her fingers to her chin, gently pushing her back. She resists and forces Kate to hold her jaw in her palm.   
“What about giving me something to think about until I'm on land again?” 
Kate smirks. “You'll manage.” But she loosens her grip and June closes the gap. The first kiss is desperate, needy. All tongues and teeth. The second, third, fourth, and fifth kisses are furtive, quickly touching her lips, her jaw, her cheek.
A metallic creak pushes them apart, breathing heavily, both bring their cigarettes back to their lips in sync. Would be comical if her heart wasn’t skipping in its cage. They wait and it happens again, nothing more than the sounds of an aging rig.
“We shouldn't. Anyone could walk in.” Kate eventually says, more for her own benefit.
The petty officer snorts. “Just a bit of fun. Besides, everyone here knows I’m a dyke.”
She chokes, coughing on the inhale. “A-any trouble with them. Then?” The concern in her voice betrays her attempt to wedge neutrality back between them. 
“Some. Nothing I can't handle - no one wants to risk losing this assignment.” She adds for reassurance. 
Kate nods, observing her carefully. Seems to be an honest admission. And it gives her an idea, a trail of crumbs to follow. The ensign she met on arrival didn't seem to share that sentiment. Might be someone who warranted closer observation.
This was turning into an informative rendezvous. 
“Well.” June stubbed her cigarette into the bolted down ashtray. “If this isn't going anywhere, I gotta go.” She pauses at the door. “Next liberty, wouldn't mind meeting up.”
“Wait, hold on,” Kate exclaims as the other woman steps out the door. “When’s that? And how do I reach you?”
“Pretty sure you have that handled,” June winks. “CIA.” 
She steps out and Kate sits back heavily, lighting a second cigarette while the first one still hangs from her lips.
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whatupcherry · 1 day
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I cannot stress enough how embarrassingly dumb this album is.
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whatupcherry · 1 day
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I love lesbians lmao
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whatupcherry · 2 days
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Swallowed Words
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whatupcherry · 2 days
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If its more than one of these, vote the one that was strongest and/or lasted the longest.
I wanted to be a marine illustrator !! Like for textbooks n stuff
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whatupcherry · 2 days
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Butch Ghost with a nearly painfully sensitive clit so she almost never likes to let you do things to her- not because she doesn't like it but because you can't know how quickly you'd have her wrapped around your finger if you did send tweet
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whatupcherry · 2 days
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whatupcherry · 2 days
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i can’t decide if kate it a good dancer or not, but both options are so cute to imagine
I just know Laswell likes These Boots Are Made for Walkin' by Nancy Sinatra. She dances to that shit with her wife at parties and laughs when men gawk at them.
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whatupcherry · 2 days
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asking the 141, los vaqueros, kate, nik, farah, or alex to watch your drink.
cw: obvs alcohol mention
price. places a coaster over it and continues on with his conversation. one guy approaches, but before he can even open his mouth, price shoots him a glare. (poor fella was just gonna ask him to move so he could reach the jukebox.)
gaz. hand over heart, honored to be asked. sneaks a sip though, because 1) it looks delicious and 2) indirect kiss. when he hands it back, he taps his cheek once. pay up.
soap. licks the condensation off the glass as a joke, i licked it so it’s mine, only to make it too slippery to hold. drops it. shatters the glass. red-faced and muttering when you come back to a new drink. it’s completely different.
ghost. he seems to take it seriously and covers it with his whole hand. hands it back with a finger dipped into it and smirks.
alejandro. steals a sip, immediately winces at the cheaper liquor. gets you a new drink. the same one, top shelf, on his tab. immediately asks if you taste the difference.
rudy. oh he’s quietly thrilled you asked, but he acts like he’s not watching it. because he’s kind of daring someone to even glance the wrong way at your drink.
kate. agrees to, and orders of the guys to grab a water for you, too. teases you about your taste in liquor/beer, and offers to order you her favorite to try.
nik. you don’t ask anyone to watch your drink, but nothing escapes nik. without pausing his conversation, he grabs your glass and sets it next to his. affectionately scolds you when you return.
farah. she actually offers when you get up to go to the bathroom. she’s not too worried about anything happening, the two of you can handle yourselves. she orders you a snack to share, and grins when it arrives just as you sit back down.
alex. giddy you asked him, he likes that you feel safe with him. smiles the whole goddamn time he’s holding it, too. but he drops it when he goes to hand it back. pays for the replacement.
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whatupcherry · 2 days
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Hii please can you do family hcs for soap, graves and rodolfo (sorry if thats two meny) like as in having kids being married and stuff x
Hey! I don't write about children, so I wrote general marriage HCs for the lads :-)
Marriage HCs for Soap, Rodolfo and Graves
Soap: As soon as you’re engaged he’s never taking that ring off again. It’s a small but lovely reminder that the two of you are bound together forever. To be frank, he loves the feeling of being married to you. His bonnie and him are finally married, what more could he want? He’s actually a surprisingly good husband, always taking care of you and getting you whatever you need. Insists on going on vacation with you for a week to ten days once a year. It’s his way of unwinding. Plus he really wants to see the world with you, make as many memories as possible as well. Very dutiful too, if you ever tell him to do something then he’ll do it. Rarely ever does he complain. After all, his beautiful spouse needs him, and what is more wonderful than that. If you’re not allergic to them, then he insists on getting a dog with you. They’re loyal, they’re sweet, they’re adventurous. They’re kind of like him and he jokes about that too. If you love Soap then you’re going to love a dog as well. However, sometimes he gets a bit overwhelmed with love for you and will just hold you tightly for a bit. He doesn’t talk, he doesn’t even move, he just holds you and takes in your warmth and your scent. Once he’s almost done feeling sappy, he’ll sigh, put your face in between his hands, give you a big smooch and tell you how much he loves you. It gets especially bad once you’re married. He can’t help it, though, he simply adores you.
Rodolfo: He never would have thought he’d find someone willing to marry someone like him. Sure, he’s flattered and flabbergasted, even, and that sometimes gets to him. Once you’re married, he’ll try his best to be a good husband for you. Gets up before you do so he can make you some breakfast, cleans your home as long as he can be quiet, hell, he’ll even try to use the washing machine and wash your clothes. If you’re awake somehow and want to join him, he’s over the moon. There’s just something so domestic about doing house chores together, he loves it. At one point he’ll insist on going on a roadtrip through Mexico together so you can see all the most beautiful sights together. He loves his country and he loves you too, so he’d love nothing more than to combine both of those things together. It’s not optional either, he’ll bring it up again and again until you finally relent and let him plan everything. I don’t think he’d be too much of a dog person, but you could probably convince him to get a cat. He wouldn’t admit it, but he thinks they’re kind of cute. Will also try to be your cat’s favorite by feeding it some snacks here and there, just to brag that it loves him after all. One thing he’ll also start doing once you’re married is send letters to you. You don’t have to respond, but he just wants to send you something more personal every once in a while. Besides, it’s something sweet too, isn’t it? Not very many people send each other letters anymore these days. They’re more personal than a simple text message.
Graves: He’s a cocky but loveable guy most of the time, but he actually becomes a bit calmer once you’re married. Sure, he’ll still tease you when he can, but that’s just how he is. Back then, he may have told you he loves you by teasing you, but nowadays he genuinely just holds you close and gives you a heartfelt “I love you” from time to time. Not too fond of doing chores, even with you, but he’ll do them anyway because he can’t just leave all the work to you, even if he wouldn’t mind hiring a maid to do so either. Will want to buy a big house for the both of you to live in together. He has too much money on his hands anyway, so he does it anyway. It’s not going to be too remote, but it won’t be in the heart of a city either. If you’re not American then he’ll convince you to live with him in the States. It’s his home country, he’s a proud American and he wants you to be with him. He’s not too open for a pet, in all honesty. Even if he can’t really name a reason as to why. It’s not like he’s allergic or anything, he’s just not the biggest fan of pets. Most he can do is a fish. But trust me, he’d actually take really good care of that fish. It would likely be overfed, but he’d deny ever feeding it and caring for it. If he thinks you’re not around then he’ll actually talk to it about how great of a spouse you are and how lovely it is that you’re taking care of him and it. Yes, he gushes about you to the fish. If asked he doesn’t even know you have a fish, though.
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