#larissa weems.

[soberfucker]

🌙 - @scyftan wants a text.

[SAM WALTON] : just admit it. i'm more fun than candy crush and sending mean emails or whatever you do late at night for 'amusement' [SAM WALTON] : you can tell me. i can keep all your secrets larissa [SAM WALTON] : we can listen to classical music and brood on the nature of macbeth's folly by candlelight if that makes it better for you

[soberfucker]

i thought i wouldn’t see you again unless you were in trouble. @scyftan asked, sternly!! from this meme.

They stare ahead of themselves for a moment, the immense weight of their Bart-Simpsonlike tendencies washing over them all at once. They imagine turning green and six foot seven, and turning to Larissa with Mark Ruffalo's grin, and saying: that's my secret. I'm always in trouble.

They don't do that.

"I'm a perfect angel," they say, voice flat. "Can I not seek you out just because you're a beautiful woman?" They feel very suave saying that. Way better than the Marvel Avengers reference, plus the necessary five minutes of explaining it to Larissa Weems, who looks like she hasn't consumed media past WWII, with the notable exception of, probably, Fifty Shades of Grey, which she'd never admit to reading anyway. They also got called a twelve year old boy on a dating app recently, and they'd really like to move away from Bart Simpson toward something sexier, like Don Draper from Mad Men. If he wasn't such a raging misogynist. Could one separate the misogyny from the cold lust of being willing to say the most beautifully put sentence, in order to just sleep with a woman? They're aware they're getting distracted. This is an issue to sort another time. Maybe they need to get more Catholic toward sex, or something. The Pope hates AI, which was cool. Could be a possibility. They put a pin in all this.

"Anyway. I am in trouble, as it turns out." Goodbye, Draper. Hello, Simpson (said in the rising holler of Principal Skinner.) "But hey! You're still beautiful."

They take out a cigarette, and are suddenly aware they should ask if they can smoke in here. Lots of things in this room look like an ashtray, but they'd made that mistake before. It turns out it's fine to leave your puppy play dog bowl out in front of the guests, but its suddenly not fine for the guest to empty ash into it. Go figure.

"Smoke?" They ask, holding it out to Weems, using this as an excuse to cosy up to the desk, too. They half-sit, half-lean, and pull out their tiny pistol lighter. Also a gift from someone who doesn't speak to them anymore.