#my best bet might just be like. Fuckin. Going to a print shop and seeing if they can do what I need

[watery-melon-baller]

im TRYING to make this super cool fun gift but I'm STRUGGLING because the part I need to custom make is so fucking TINY and I can't. I can't. Oughhhhhhh

[delvalentine]

draft dump

another plot bunny i won't visit but don't want to trash completely: xiao, a gruff tattoo artist, and reader/mc, a timid flower shop owner.

“I already told you to get out of my sight.”

“What’s your fuckin’ problem, midget?”

You looked up, startled to be hearing such violence at the ripe hour of nine in the morning. There was a scrawny man posturing in the street with an incredibly offensive logo printed across his shirt, facing off against a shorter, dark-haired man.

“You’re already a damn eyesore. What makes you think adding shit to a shitpile is going to do you any good?” the latter sneered. He threw down a paper with a sketch on it, crushing it beneath his foot. You didn’t think you could see anything more blatantly hateful than the slogan across the man’s chest, but even from this distance, that paper certainly took the cake. You recognized him, mainly by the green art painted all across his arms. Xiao was the newest resident of this section of Liyue Harbour’s marketplace, opening up a tattoo shop across from your flower shop. You hadn’t paid it much mind, seeing as business is business, but this could become a problem. Maybe you should call the milileth.

“Unless you want your mug to be uglier than it already is—<i>scram</i>.” Xiao’s harsh snarl made you shiver even from the safety of your own veranda. Although the other man easily had a foot over him, it was clear who the winner would be in a fight.

“Whatever. I bet you draw like shit anyways. Fuck off.” He stalked off, but it was more of a shameful retreat than anything. You let out a sigh of relief as the situation seemed to de-escalate. Xiao, having noticed you staring, passively met your gaze. You shuddered, held in place by his sharp amber eyes. His expression tightened, almost as if he might say something. But then he whirled around and vanished back into his parlor, the door swinging shut behind him as if teased close by stray winds.

Never a boring morning in Liyue Harbour.

You’re a young woman making a living off of selling flowers. It’s a good place to be: lovesick schoolgirls, men needing hasty apologies, and old couples are just a handful of the people that pass through your shop. Vendors come and go like the tides, always seeking out the best place for commerce. Xiao the tattoo artist is just the latest addition to this cozy nook of the marketplace. Not the first, not the last. He’s only been here for a few days, and you’ve been too busy to pop over to give your neighbour a proper welcoming—but he’s sure left an impression.

“Xiao?” Xiangling asked distantly, dividing her attention between your array of edible flowers and the conversation at hand. “He’s not a chef that I know of.”

“Not many people have heard of him,” you mused, brushing dirt off the display tables. It was ten now, only an hour after the debacle. You hadn’t seen Xiao’s door open since. “You could ask Xingqiu. He’s the walking encyclopedia.”

At half past eleven, Xingqiu came by for his usual visit after raiding the bookstore. As always, his nose was in his latest haul.

“Xiao… the artist?” It was the first real information you’d gotten of your interesting neighbour. Apparently, he was well known by name as a ‘Yaksha’, one of five legendary tattoo artists trained in a sacred tradition lost to time. The more you heard about him, the more amazed you were. So amazed that you must’ve shifted the cosmic tension and alerted him of your presence, because just a few hours later, the Yaksha was standing in your store.

“Hey, you,” he said gruffly, cutting off your customer mid-sentence. “Do you work alone?”

“U-um… yes?” you answered, your eyes darting back and forth between two men. Tartaglia scowled, clearly upset at being steamrolled in his obvious attempt to flirt with you as he was holding a bouquet of roses. “Do you mind?” he asked snobbishly. Xiao ignored him, staring right at you.

“You need to be careful. There’s a lot of robberies happening right now because of Treasure Hoarders.”

Your heart sank at the thought of being held at knifepoint. It happened far too often for comfort, and though you’d been lucky enough to never experience it before, there’s always a first time for everything.

“If something happens, just scream. I’ll hear you.” “Dude, I’m serious—”

“And I’ll protect you,” Xiao continued. “Just don’t be stupid enough to get caught up with them in the first place.” “Okay,” you agreed, still befuddled by the entire situation. Xiao nodded, more to himself, before turning heel to leave with the same aggressiveness he had entering. He paused at the door before turning. “I might ask you for some reference material. For my art.” He gestured around at the flowers you still had up front. “Okay…” He finally left and you watched him march across the street back to his own store.

“Anyways. Before I was so rudely interrupted…”

Now you were paying little attention to the tall ginger’s words, too engrossed in Xiao’s. <i>I’ll protect you.</i> The way he said it, arms crossed with jade dragons dancing up and down his skin… made your heart pitter-patter just a bit faster.