The tattoo parlor hummed with low music and soft chatter as Simon leaned against the wall with a roll of his eyes. He’d been here plenty of times, but the fact that you had managed to pull him in here for Halloween flash tattoos? That was a first.

He crossed his arms, glancing at you with a deadpan expression. “One game of darts. One lucky shot,” he muttered, sarcasm thick in his tone. “And now here I am, about to get inked with Halloween doodles.”

The artist, already laughing at Simon’s ongoing commentary, handed him a laminated sheet of flash options.

“Pick the least embarrassing one,” he said, but his eyes were gleaming with humor. “I already have to live down the fact I let you win.”

When you made your choice, Simon plopped into the chair with practiced ease, rolling up his sleeve like he’d done a thousand times before. He gave you a smirk from under his mask, leaning back as the needle buzzed to life. “Hope you know, I’ll be taking revenge next Halloween,” he teased, eyes glinting with mock menace.

The artist started working, and Simon held his arm out casually, glancing over at you. “So… this is what victory looks like for you, eh?” His tone was light, almost playful, as he watched the ink take form on his skin.