#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.

[milescaiine]

The Roses on Your Shirt - Miles/Gavin I

Upon receipt of the last few texts from Gavin, Miles groaned as he looked up at the clock on the shop’s wall. Time would never move fast enough and if he were honest, he could only hide the bulge in his pants for so long before one of the customers noticed. Miles shoved his phone deep into his pocket and got to arranging the last of the day’s orders in a desperate hope that his mind would be any where else than the pretty ass he’d be fucking later. The hours, of course, seemed to drag on after that. By the time seven o’clock came around, Miles couldn’t have left the building faster, his steps leaving a cloud of petals and leaves in his wake. He’d clean up another day- or, you know- would let someone else. The time seemed to pick up after that, with him going home to change into something a bit more appropriate for a club- tight black jeans, a silk black button up with giant roses printed into the fabric, and a leather jacket to top it off. He’d blend in, at the very least. By the time he was done, the clock was just about to hit eleven PM to which Miles popped up off the couch, slipped into his boots, shoved a wad of cash into his pocket, and locked his front door with little effort. While he knew he had an appointment across town at Lucky Rush, Miles turned left and headed uptown, towards his regular spot, his fingers tapping on his thigh the whole time. It had been nearly three days since he’d last had a high and if that was anything to go by, Miles had waited a long time to have a hit. He could already feel the effects coursing through his veins, his heart pounding and his head throbbing with the need to feel a little bit more. While he had fucked Gavin last night, he had been high, yes but it was one of those last day highs after a week and a half binge that he had gone on just a few days before. Now, of course, he could feel the world around him a little too closely and the thought ran down his back like a set of sharp fingernails on a chalkboard. 

Upon arrival to his regular spot, Miles headed straight for the door, past the line and under the arm of the bouncer. He was a regular, that was at least known to everyone in the club. Miles made a b-line for the upstairs VIP, his feet carrying him to the highest spot in the darkest corner. These interactions were always fast, but were always enough to kill his hunger, at least for a bit. “’Ello,” he muttered, sliding into the booth across from a few men, “’ere ya go. Should all be there. A two week supply, yea?” He tossed the neatly folded wad of cash across the table with ease, his shoulders relaxing back into the plush leather. The interaction was fast after that with three men counting money and the fourth holding his supply. After they confirmed that everything was there, the man in the middle shot Miles a large smile, “Mi, Mi, you truly do hold up to your word. Our most faithful customer. Here ya’ go, mate. See ya in two weeks?” Miles nodded in confirmation, took the little baggy from the table, and shoved it in his pocket as he stood to leave. “Make it a week and a ‘alf- ‘m not lookin’ for another low like this again, ya?” 

Miles had always been lazy about his drugs, really. He had never been one to be discreet, so it was no surprise to anyone to see him immediately pop the little baggy open and slip a tablet onto his tongue. He tucked the remainder of his pills into an inside pocket on his jacket and pushed his way out of the club, his feet turning him back down the road from which he came. Miles knew that he had exactly thirty-nine minutes before he’d be feeling anything and with a quick check at his watch that read eleven forty-two, he knew he’d be nice and loose by the time he got to Lucky Rush. Upon arriving to the second club, Miles realized he had only been here twice and that he may not have quite as easy of a time getting in, but he tested his luck, “’iya,” his liquid confidence was already starting to swirl through his veins, “’m here for the pretty ballerina- Gavin?” such an odd name for a girl. The bouncer paused for a moment before recognition seemed to wash across his features, “Ah, you must be Miles. Gavin said you’d be here, he’ll be in the back against the red wall.” Miles smirked, as if he had just snuck his way into a club that was impossible to get into. He adjusted his jacket as he pushed through the crowd, his eyes glancing from person to person, only half aware that they were mostly scantily clad men in jeans tighter than his. Miles’ eyes trailed from one tight ass to the next, his chest heaving at all of the thoughts that seemed to push their way through his head. He checked his watch once more, twelve-forty-three, and grinned. By the time he had pushed his way through to the red wall, Miles was gloriously high and ready to pin Gavin against the wall. He only had a vague remembrance of what the other person looked like, but as he rounded the final corner and saw a pretty head of long hair and a tight, tight ass in a set of equally as tight jeans, he knew he had his person. 

“’Ello Rose,” Miles hopped under the barrier, his arms looping around Gavin’s little waist, his chest pressed flat to the other’s back, “‘orry I’m late, love. Time got the best of me,” he trailed a teasing hand down the dancer’s thigh, “nice to see that you’re still here, though. I knew you wouldn’t run off and find another bloke for the night.” Miles, at that point, was only half aware that Gavin was a man. If he had been sober, he might have admitted to himself at some point that he was attracted to men, but drugs made it easier to accept it and to fuck. It was just logic, really. “You look fuckin’ hot, Rose,” his lips trailed Gavin’s ear, “I knew from the moment I saw your pretty ass in these jeans that this is who I’d come for.” Miles’ hand trailed down Gavin’s side and to his ass, where he grabbed a handful before giving it a few teasing smacks, “c’mon, lets get you a drink, yeah?” By that time, Miles had already walked them further into Gavin’s booth, but still had yet to turn the other man around. He pressed Gavin into the plush leather and sat himself down next to the man, his hands never leaving the other’s body. Miles slipped an arm around Gavin and pulled him impossibly closer to his side, his free hand motioning for the waiter, “Order your drink, love.” Miles watched as Gavin spoke with the waiter, his eyes trained on how the other’s lips moved with every word he spoke. Once the waiter had left, Miles used his hand to turn Gavin’s face towards his own, “I haven’t thought about anything but you since earlier,” he pulled Gavin onto his lap with ease, “I cant wait to be in your pretty ass- have your mouth,” Miles’ thumb trailed Gavin’s bottom lip, “wrapped around my cock. I bet you look so good when you’re forced to take it all, don’t you?” at this point, his voice had dropped a few octaves and could only really be heard by Gavin. Miles rocked up into Gavin’s ass and snickered at the other man’s reaction at feeling his semi, “Some of us didn’t get off earlier today, so you’ll need to forgive me in advance if I give you your first bit of protein before I get to fucking you so hard that you can’t walk tomorrow, yeah?” 

Gavin couldn’t even get a response out before the waiter was returning, a blank look on his face. He’d seen the scene before him far too often, “Mr. Renault? I’ve added it to your bill,” Gavin brushed the man off with a flippant hand. Miles, at that point, was rocking much more than a semi, “c’mon then, finish your drink. As much as I’d love to face-fuck you in front of a bunch of strangers,” his hands traveled up Gavin’s thighs, “I think we may need to save that for another time- we should give you time to get used to my cock, that way you’re not choking on it too hard in front of all these people, yeah? I wouldn’t want people to see your pretty face struggling to take it all. That’s reserved for my eyes only.” He hooked a finger under Gavin’s chin and pulled him closer, their lips just inches apart, “I’ve thought about your ass all day, you know that? I may not have gotten off earlier, but I definitely thought about it- I stroked my cock over our freshest bouquet of roses. Nearly came right then and there, but I figured I’d save it for you,” Miles leaned impossibly closer and just as he went to attach his lips to Gavin’s, he moved them to the other man’s neck, his lips latching on to the soft skin. He could see a few of the bruises he had left from the night prior and smirked, Gavin was his and there was nothing the other man could do about it.