You've been saying I was a lunatic for years. [ Which is half-accurate, considering he's been calling Stiles a lunatic for just as long. Especially when he gets up to shenanigans and drags Scott along for the ride. But he's never really complained, and neither has Stiles. They're brothers, through and through.
It's been good to get away from Beacon Hills, for as much as he loves his mom and Stiles' dad and the people all there, and they've actually gotten to settle into a bigger punk scene. Their parents helped to send them to various shows and indulged them in their musical ventures despite how loud they could get. But here, they have better access to everything. Shows, fashion, music, tattoos and piercings.
... they'll see if Stiles passes out again. But he'll never tell anyone if he does. That's what bros do. ]
Dude, I love you, but I don't want to share the tattoo I'm getting for my girlfriend with you. I meant like, us getting pieces designed for us. [ Scott sways and bumps back into him, grinning as bright as a gigawatt lightbulb. He can hear the needles whirring in the back, and voices that he can't quite pick up what they're saying. But he hums thoughtfully while looking at the knotwork with him. ]
Yeah, I'm sure. I really want this. [ He looks back at him, bouncing a little again so that the chain on his jacket taps against the worn material. Behind him, the sound of a needle gun stops, and a moment later a man older than them comes out from the back, pulling off the black latex gloves and throwing them away in a trash bin.
He sort of looks the part of a tattoo artist, with a thick beard and serious look, but then Scott's eyes drop down to the simple sweater he wears that he's pulling the sleeves down on, comfortable and soft and he kind of wants to touch it, it looks that nice? With his wardrobe, he looks more like he'd be in a library than a tattoo parlor, especially with the glasses hooked in the collar. ]
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WE CAN DECIDE LATER.
It's been good to get away from Beacon Hills, for as much as he loves his mom and Stiles' dad and the people all there, and they've actually gotten to settle into a bigger punk scene. Their parents helped to send them to various shows and indulged them in their musical ventures despite how loud they could get. But here, they have better access to everything. Shows, fashion, music, tattoos and piercings.
... they'll see if Stiles passes out again. But he'll never tell anyone if he does. That's what bros do. ]
Dude, I love you, but I don't want to share the tattoo I'm getting for my girlfriend with you. I meant like, us getting pieces designed for us. [ Scott sways and bumps back into him, grinning as bright as a gigawatt lightbulb. He can hear the needles whirring in the back, and voices that he can't quite pick up what they're saying. But he hums thoughtfully while looking at the knotwork with him. ]
Yeah, I'm sure. I really want this. [ He looks back at him, bouncing a little again so that the chain on his jacket taps against the worn material. Behind him, the sound of a needle gun stops, and a moment later a man older than them comes out from the back, pulling off the black latex gloves and throwing them away in a trash bin.
He sort of looks the part of a tattoo artist, with a thick beard and serious look, but then Scott's eyes drop down to the simple sweater he wears that he's pulling the sleeves down on, comfortable and soft and he kind of wants to touch it, it looks that nice? With his wardrobe, he looks more like he'd be in a library than a tattoo parlor, especially with the glasses hooked in the collar. ]