Bell laughed brightly, “Fuck yeah you’d look bad ass. The baddest ass,” she waggled her brows, giggling madly.
“Would your dad be pissed? I fucking know mine would be, ha!” the young blue woman flopped back, staring up at the ceiling, “Damn, just imagining the look on his face next time I get slammered. He’d be the only one to know what it even meant to, ahahaha,” she held her sides laughing, though she really doubted she’d be brave enough to go through with getting that idea done. It would involve trusting the tattoo artist an awful lot.
Propping her chin on her hand and looking up at her friend, Bell mused, “But, yeah. Ink would be so fucking sweet.”
Snickering, Lyn waggled her own brows right in time with Bell’s actions, finding herself laughing even more at the initial question. Rolling her eyes, she thought to the purple smoke tattoo that dominated much of her back, one she had got shortly after her Father got his tattoo with a quote to match. “Nah. Dad won’t give a damn. He’d probably wanna know what tha fuck made me wanna get a tentacle, but nothin’ more,” she mused, shrugging casually as she leaned back onto her hands and watched Bell with a small smile. There were few people in Lyn’s life that she could relax like this around, and she was glad Bell was one of them.
“Wait, what? Tha only one? Well now ya got me curious, Blueberry. What’s it mean?” she prompted, her ebony ears perking fully forward while her eyes shimmered with intrigue. To say that Lyn was a curious being was a bit of an understatement… Bell wasn’t likely going to be able to get away with saying such a statement without Emma asking anything about it.
Bluebell elbowed Lyn playfully, she was one of the very few people that were allowed to call her by that particular fruit. It had made her blood boil all through her youth, but from Lyn it was just how they were. No true menace or hate. As endearing as a playful cry of ‘bitch’ or ‘bastard’.
❝Okay, okay, okay, so!❞ Bell’s entire face went purple,
❝So I don’t want just one tentacle tattoo… I want 7. Here,❞ she rolled over so she could trace her fingers over where the tattoo would start where her legs joined and go down her thighs,
❝Like an octopus,❞ she bit her lip, staring intently in anticipation at her friend to see is Emmalyn, bright as she was, would put it together.
RP backup 