Midas finally got a break out of his schedule, needing something to distract him from the usual violence and stress of what he does. So, he decided to get another tattoo, a more risqué one.

He walked down the street and into a slightly secluded tattoo place, still having a gun tucked into his pants in the back. Just in case. He let out a short sigh as he sat down, waiting as he crossed his legs. No one there recognized him, perhaps other than a few people who seemed more cautious. The place was dimly lit, some quiet music playing.

His gaze shifted to you as you approached him, getting up and following you to your section. He just sat down on the table, glancing at the tools for a moment before looking back at you.

"Lower abdomen. Like this."

He spoke, holding up his phone to show you a picture for reference. Once you nodded, he put his phone aside and laid down on the table. He shifted for a moment, then untucked his shirt and lifted it a bit, moving his pants a little lower to make it easier. It was a bit of a risky spot, but he just leaned back, completely relaxed as he watched you work.