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Who: November and Hawthorne
Where: November's house in Lake George
When: In the wee hours of Sunday morning/Saturday night
What: No is all alone in her house and can't sleep so she texts her bud Manney for company, lo and behold she tested the wrong Nikitin and ended up with Thorny instead.
Rating: SFW
November, not for the first time, had the house all to herself for the weekend. Her mom and brother had gone to visit her sister at school and her dad was on tour again. As much as she enjoyed the quiet during the day on Saturday she hated the creepy feeling at night. She had tried tea and reading but she just couldn't sleep without waking up a few seconds later with a fright. Finally she texted Manney and asked him to come over to keep him company. She was a little curious about his last stumbled text but didn't put too much thought into it as she stretched her legs and sighed quietly, just waiting for her friend to arrive.
Where: November's house in Lake George
When: In the wee hours of Sunday morning/Saturday night
What: No is all alone in her house and can't sleep so she texts her bud Manney for company, lo and behold she tested the wrong Nikitin and ended up with Thorny instead.
Rating: SFW
November, not for the first time, had the house all to herself for the weekend. Her mom and brother had gone to visit her sister at school and her dad was on tour again. As much as she enjoyed the quiet during the day on Saturday she hated the creepy feeling at night. She had tried tea and reading but she just couldn't sleep without waking up a few seconds later with a fright. Finally she texted Manney and asked him to come over to keep him company. She was a little curious about his last stumbled text but didn't put too much thought into it as she stretched her legs and sighed quietly, just waiting for her friend to arrive.
"Oh me too, especially photography, 'cept I don't like getting my picture taken," she said getting excited. "I get it from both sides, my mom's a tattoo artist and my dad's always been really into music too." She was pretty glad her parents were artistic it kind of gave her room to be weird. "It's probably a good idea to stop some day," she said with a little shrug. "Don't want to be an aging rocker with an addiction, you'll end up on some terrible reality tv show," honestly... it was a legitimate concern she had for her own father.
"Good, I would like that," she said happily.
"That's kind of fucking awesome." He removed his hand from her shoulder to roll up his t-shirt sleeve and show her his tattoos. "My uncle does ink work, though not for a job or anything. He gives all the kids tattoos on their 16th birthdays. Lukey and me get matching ones." Which he thought sounded a lot less lame in his head.
"Can you imagine? Thorny's Roses, or something idiotic like that. It'll be a dating show. And I'll have a pot belly."
"Oh nice," she beamed, completely forgetting her shyness again, she ran the tips of her fingers over his tattoo briefly. "This is really nice work," she complimented, pulling back a little. "Dinosaur motor club though? What's it mean?" She smiled at him warmly. "Me and my sister both got the same chest piece," she said pointing to the La Mia Famiglia on her chest. "Except hers is on her back."
She snorted a little. "Oh definitely," she laughed. "And you'll be wearing a nasty little tank top that's stained," she teased.
He wasn't about to run his fingers over her tattoo. He was saucy, but he could tell already that November wasn't that kind of girl. "We've got to figure out new ones for next year. It's like a tradition. I always wait for his birthday in March."
He laughed as the image of him in a stained, ribbed tank top appeared in his mind. "And cut off jean shorts and flip flops. And I'll wear aviators and a smoking jacket. And I'll carry around a tobacco pipe." Filled with weed, of course, he thought.
He was right about his assumption, she might have lost her shit if he touched her chest, not that the thought had even passed her mind. "You guys are kind of adorable you know," she said smiling. "Your uncle is really good. If my mom wouldn't get all butt hurt I would get my next one from him," she stated matter of factly. "I want to get some Adirondack-y."
She laughed even harder. "That's classy as hell man. And you've gotta have a mullet. Business in the front, party in the back," she laughed delightedly.
"Don't tell anyone else. You'll ruin our reps." He laughed. "I'd apprentice with him, but he says it's pain in the ass work and I don't have the attention span for it. Does your mom do wizarding tatts or just regular ones?"
He was cracking up again. "Muuuuullet!" he said drawing out the vowels and hitting the t as hard as he could. He almost spit, which made him laugh even harder. "And I'll have a pocketbook dog like Paris Hilton!"
"Aww, you're secret is safe with me," she said patting his shoulder. "Mom does both kinds," she answered. "This arm," she said holding out her right arm. "Is all wizard, but my chest and this little city sky line," she said showing him the inside of her left arm. "These are muggle tatts. She does both because she says there's a bigger market in muggle tatts," she explained.
She couldn't help but laugh even harder. "You can name it Tinkerbell! Just like Paris," she tittered. "Oh my god why do I know that?" her face went red and she giggled even more.
"Yeah. Uncle Alexei does both, but he prefers the artistry in muggle tatts. He says there's more to them, a little more pain and a little more reward." He touched one of the tatts on the inside of her arm. "Your mom does nice ink."
He shook his head because there was no way he'd name his tiny dog Tinkerbell. "Oh hell no. My pocketbook dog will be called Slutzookie, son of Slutzilla." Then he was just dying of laughter again. "I dunno. You watch a lot of lame reality tv or what?"
"I think there is too," she said brightly. "If I were to get into it I would go for muggle tatts. Like... it hurts a little but it's nothing you wouldn't be able to handle," she gave him a little wink. "Especially the closer you are to bone. Collar bone hurts like a bitch," she tried not to shiver when he touched the inside of her arm. "Thanks, I'll have to send along your compliments."
She was laughing so hard her stomach started hurting. "Oh no, oh no, that's too good," she said shaking her head. You're too funny."
"I don't watch reality tv at all," she said honestly. "Scouts honor. I'd rather watch Traffic Now! than watch reality television."
He stood up and walked awkwardly over the coffee table and then turned to jump on the couch and grab a pillow to hit on the back of the couch like he was attacking Tokyo. "Show me your dubbed horror face while I battle Mothra!"
He plopped back onto the couch and tried to stop his giggles, but it took awhile before he could speak again. "Oh fuck. I love Traffic now. It's great when you're burning man. Just turn it on and watch the headlights. Soft jazz. It's fucking awesome."
"Ahhhh!" was all she could manage in mock terror, giggling even harder. "Sorry my dubbed horror face is shit," she laughed.
A bit shyly, she snuggled up close to Thorny when he had settled back on the couch. "It's my favorite background noise. And it's gotta be one of the best hang over cures," she grinned.
"Hide the women and children. Tropical Storm Thorny is making landfall! Ahhhhh!" Then he pretended to get shot by the villagers and flopped over the back of the couch making gagging, dying noises before turning back to grin at her broadly.
He settled his arm back over her shoulder. "One of these days we're going to get shit faced drunk and maybe a little high and we're going to watch Traffic Now until the sun comes up."
"Ahhhhh! Not Tropical Storm Thorny!" she mock screamed, putting her hands up in the air. She collapsed into another giggle fit when he was gagging.
"I look forward to this little adventure of ours," she said brightly. "I don't think I've ever met anyone else who watches Traffic Now," she paused, grinning widely. "Me, you, the banjo, and Traffic Now."
"You, me, the banjo, and my bong." Then he laughed because bong was a ridiculous word. "I'm sorry, our three-way just became a four-way. And while we're at it I think we need to keep it flexible. Need to make room for the occasional bongo or pocketbook dog."
Then it dawned on her. "Ohhh! Is that what you meant earlier with the drum circles behind the herbology shed?" She blushed feeling silly for getting the joke hours later.
Thorny cracked up. "Yeah," he said sheepishly. "I mean. We bring bongos too. But usually we're just smoking up and banging the drums when a teacher comes by as a cover."
"Pretty clever cover up," she smirked. "Just give them those big innocent eyes and they'll never expect a thing," she teased gently. "I've only smoked a few times," she admitted. The last time I danced around in my skibbies and ate a loaf of cinnamon toast," she laughed.
"Oh. I think they suspect," he said with a silly grin. "Most of the time they just break up the party. I've only gotten detention and a lecture from Dawkins..." He lifted up his hand to count and discovered it was about three times. He shrugged. "No big."
Then he was grinning like a kid in a candy store. "We have got to get high together some time."
"That's not so bad then," she said. "I... don't think I have ever got detention. My dad says I should get into trouble more, live a little, break curfew," she shrugged. "I just haven't gotten caught yet."
"You must really like cinnamon toast," she laughed though she was sure that he wasn't talking about the cinnamon toast.