Yan! Hsr X Willing! Reader Headcanons

Art Disclaimer: Please do not take the photo and repost. Feel free to reblog though. Commissioned jfairuz for this one. It’s so, so pretty. 

The Ruthless Prince Masterlist - Genshin Royal AU - Scaramouche x fem!reader

Summary: When Prince Scaramouche picks you out of a random group of commoners to marry, your life is turned upside down. He’s mean, snarky, condescending and he doesn’t act like a proper husband or prince at all. However, when Prince Tartaglia from the neighbouring kingdom takes an interest in you, Prince Scaramouche finds himself even more annoyed than usual. This is the story of him and you navigating this roller coaster of a relationship.

Chapter 1 - You’re Marrying Me, That’s Final!

Chapter 2 - Social Pretense

Chapter 3 - Can I Understand Him?

Chapter 4 - Pet Wife

Chapter 5 - Enter Prince Tartaglia

Chapter 6 - Just the Beginning

Chapter 7 - To My Heart

Chapter 8 - Where is This Anger Coming From?

Chapter 9 - check back later

Can I please requests a scenario where Childe rebels against the Tsarista to protect the reader, so now he's cursed by being trapped in foul legacy form.

Unable to speak, barely able to recognize anything, and in constant bloodlust(or whatever else you might headcanon for a more beastial interpretation of Foul Legacy)

But thanks to the reader and Teucer, he's able to still stay himself

This is my first request, hope it's fine. Thank you!

anon i would like you to know that this buttered my toast and watered my crops i love EVERYTHING about this that being said i might've gotten a little off topic but i hope you still enjoy!!

~ * ~ For You, Everything

Foul Legacy Childe x Reader Gender Neutral (no pronouns mentioned) Angst Warnings: Fire, death, blood, allusions to throwing up and anxiety, injuries, hyperventilating, crying, mild gore (?)

~ * ~

There’s a new rumor in Liyue.

It’s whispered in the streets and alleys, in hushed, near-silent voices to avoid detection by the subjects in question. Spreading not like wildfire, but cold, unrelenting ice- a slow freeze over the news until every citizen of the Harbor had it in the back of their mind, sticking like frost on glass.

There’s a traitor in Snezhnaya.

A vague rumor, a foreign affair, something that should be brushed aside and forgotten by people living so far away. And yet, it seems every person in Liyue has only one subject for daily gossip: the supposed betrayal of one of the Tsaritsa’s most trusted warriors. The traitor was powerful, perhaps even a Harbinger, you heard when you turned in a report, and the Fatui were stiff and tense, even the calmest member becoming snappy and cold. Any snippet of news was snatched up and passed around with intense curiosity as the entirety of Liyue waited in anticipation for the event to develop further.

Or so you’ve heard. Gossip had never been particularly appealing to you, and it’s even less so now, when you’re swamped with work and responsibilities more than usual. Along with your usual reports and data to write, you had also been given the task of looking after the younger brother of your friend, the Harbinger Tartaglia, before he left for several weeks due to “work”. The young boy, named Teucer, was sweet and adventurous, and you had to constantly stop him from going out to have little journeys of his own, as well as play up the ruse that his older brother was a toymaker and not the Eleventh Harbinger.

You huff quietly as you sign another sheet of paper and set it aside. It’s a cloudy, gray, somber day, the air just on the brink of drizzling and covering your window in fine, misty drops. There’s a knock on your door as you scratch out another sentence, and you hum wordless permission to enter. Teucer cracks the door open and slips into your office, asking in the quiet, worried way of a child if any news had come from Snezhnaya. You shake your head no- Teucer was the only reason you even made an attempt to remain up-to-date with latest gossip- and let him climb onto your lap and plonk his head against your chest. He’s worried, he tells you. Worried about his family at home and his big brother, alone and wandering in the vast, intimidating world. You ruffle his hair, the exact same color as Childe’s, and set down your pen. Perhaps it was time for a break- maybe a walk around the docks to get some fresh air?

There’s a scream outside.

Then another.

Then another.

Your eyes widen and you rush to the window, people running past shrieking in the streets. The clouds have thickened to deep, thundering gray, lightning flashing overhead, and you swear that you can feel electricity running down your bones. A few people, Vision users and Fatui members, race in the other direction, weapons glowing in their hands. Everyone is shouting, yelling, screaming- you cover Teucer’s ears, wincing at the mad din as frantic words and phrases string together into one sentence.

A monster!

A monster! A monster in the Harbor! In the one safe haven for humans in all of Liyue! With Rex Lapis dead and the Adepti detached from the Harbor’s issues, the city was sure to fall! Teucer looks up at you, his normally carefree attitude replaced by fear and shock as he tries not to shake. You give his shoulder a gentle squeeze, rushing both him and yourself downstairs, the choking, acrid scent of burning wood and bodies reaching your senses. The door is blocked by crackling wood, the fire matching the vivid purple of the lightning above, having struck houses near yours by chance, and you quickly turn and lead Teucer further away from the smoke. There’s a table there, your old desk that you shoved away in the storage room after you got a new one, and you usher Teucer under it before slotting as much as your body that can fit next to him. He clings to you, crying but desperately trying to keep quiet, and you wipe his tears, hushing and murmuring gently that everything will be okay, you’ll both get out of this, and he’ll be able to see his family and big brother again.

Secretly, you also hope to see Childe again, but you squash that hope with a harsh second-long scolding to yourself.

Fire burns bright outside, the storm sizzling against it as you hold Teucer close to you. The smoke thickens and he begins coughing, so you give him your jacket to breathe through in an attempt to filter the ash. You hear flashes of windows shattering and embers sparking as your home snaps and crackles into destruction, occasional screams of horror seeping into your brain and staining your memories deep red. And you hope and hope and hope that you both will survive, because there’s nothing left to do but hope and bitterly wish that Childe was here, with his Hydro Vision, to extinguish the flames. The smoke clouds your head, and you blink rapidly in an effort to stay awake despite the burning in your lungs.

A drop of water falls on your nose. Vaguely you feel Teucer shifting in your grip, then shaking your shoulder, and you slowly bring your head up and open your eyes, bones feeling stiff and brittle. The fire has died to glowing embers, beat back into submission by the heavy rain that now drips over your skin. You shakily stand, Teucer clasped in your arms, and nearly fall from how weak and dizzy you feel. The storm washes grit from your eyes, but you wish it hadn’t, as Liyue Harbor lays in ruins.

The houses and buildings, once standing strong and grand, are collapsed under the searing fire and weight of water. The sky is thick with plumes of ash and soot, vendors turned over and smashed and the canal water now a rough gray. The cobblestones of the streets are cracked and gritty, and covered in splatters of dark red blood that turns the rainwater pink, and you almost throw up before catching yourself and letting out dry heaves instead. Teucer tries looking up, but you gently push his head back onto your shoulder with a hush, gulping down your nausea and forcing yourself to take a step.

Step, step, step. It feels like a fever dream.

Step, step, step. You don’t feel alive right now.

Step, step, step.

What could’ve done this.

Your thoughts drift to your friends- your friends! Zhongli and Baizhu and Hu Tao! And the younger generation, Xingqiu and Xiangling and Chongyun and Xinyan! And everyone else in between that your fuzzy mind refuses to focus on- were they…?

Please, no… Don’t let them be dead…

There are claw marks in the blood splatters now- apparently they were telling the truth about there being a monster- and you shudder at the size of its talons. Your breath comes out in short puffs as you hold Teucer tight, not only to keep him in your arms, but also not to lose your grip on reality and return to that dark space where no one can find you.

There’s a growl behind you, and your blood freezes like ice. Your turn is slow, unable to bring your legs out of their leaden position as you force yourself to face the threat, if not for yourself, then for Teucer. An enormous beast, unlike one you’ve ever seen before, looms over you, and you stumble and fall backwards, feeling a sharp twinge of pain from your tailbone. Teucer yelps in surprise and asks if you’re alright, but you tell him that you’re fine, only you might need him to run as fast as his legs can carry him very, very soon. You spot blood on the monster’s claws, and scream at yourself to run, but your body refuses to do nothing but sit there and be useless. You squeeze your eyes shut, too exhausted to do anything more.

…When did you start crying?

There’s a soft pressing sensation on your cheek, and you open your eyes to find the monster carefully wiping away your tears with a claw, letting out gentle coos as if to soothe you.

And it’s a sweet sound, those coos and clicks and trills the creature makes, almost like it can take away your suffering and fill it instead with warmth and soft sensations.

Teucer also looks up at the beast, and it makes a rumbling sound of happiness as it reaches out to ruffle his hair. The young boy blinks, and a name slips from his mouth- “Ajax”, he says, a question and an answer.

Ajax… Childe’s birth name…

When Teucer calls him big brother you break, sobs coming out jerky and rough from pain and fear and horrid realization. Childe trills in concern and licks your cheek but you push him away, yelling out what about Zhongli? What about Beidou? And Baizhu? And Ningguang? And the rest of your beloved family in Liyue? But there’s not even a glint of recognition in Childe’s eye, only deep worry for you and your state of being, and behind it, a feral desire to kill and maim. You begin to shake again, and Childe silently curls around you and Teucer, lifting you in his arms and letting out reassuring purrs as he begins to walk away from the Harbor. His brother falls asleep quickly, the steady movement of Childe’s pace lulling him into dreams or nightmares. But you stay awake, hands balled into fists and holding handfuls of Childe’s fluff as your thoughts wander to small, innocent things to block out the singular day of today. There was a book series in Liyue about romance, and it carried an extremely popular quote which young couples liked to use to measure their compatibility. “What would you sacrifice for love?” And as if he’s reading your mind, Childe raises a hand to caress your cheek, staring down at you in crystalline blue, and for a brief, fleeting, final moment, there’s a flash of humanity in his eye.

For you, everything.

i wonder what it is

SINCE WHEN DO YOU KNOW LINK CLICK??? OMG 👁️

since 2021 but i just haven't had time to draw much for it :'D they do live rent free in my brain tho I love them a lot

cw: drunk reader

Diluc’s strength is no joke.

You barely remember in your late teenage years when, for some reason, Kaeya mischievously put Diluc and a man in one room together to do an arm wrestling challenge.

At the time, you were worried, because his opponent was twice Diluc’s size. The man looked like he could crush a watermelon with only his fists.

As the crowd gathered around to spectate the competition between the former cavalry captain and the giant, you watched with bated breath as the countdown went down. You mulled over interrupting their business, there were a lot of grown men cheering and yelling making bets on who would be the victor, you decided not to, because there was also a part of you that was curious on what would happen.

When someone hollered for them to begin, everyone expected some kind of struggle. But there was only a curt and loud thud.

Diluc, in one swift motion, easily overpowered the bigger man’s arm by pining it firmly on the surface.

You underestimated him. Diluc really took his training seriously, and it would be more evident ( in his physical growth ) as he got older.

So now, in the present, your sober self will probably regret this proposition you just made with him once you wake up tomorrow.

“We don’t really have to do this, my love,” Diluc says, a worried frown plastered on his handsome face. “You’re not in the right state of mind – you ought to go to bed.”

Archons only know where you gained your confidence. After two pints of beer in his tavern ( in which he vehemently disapproved of but allowed you to indulged only this once ), you were immediately red and intoxicated.

( Thankfully, it was closing time when you started sputtering out unintelligible comments and murmurs. Diluc wouldn’t admit it out loud, but he enjoyed the way home to the manor because you kept on spoiling him with small kisses on the cheeks, and how he was so “strong” and “so great.” It was going to be a secret between the two of you.

Now that you both were finally inside your shared bedroom, Diluc’s plan was simple: to give your affections back tenfold by relishing on your adorable self’s clinginess and cuddling you before succumbing to slumber. But apparently, after changing into comfortable sleepwear, you had other plans. )

“Am not drunk!” you exclaim, before clumsily pulling him closer. Diluc assists you by easing himself right into your embrace. “How dare you say that, you—“

“I did not even say that you were inebriated,” Diluc retorts, and you catch the small smirk on his kissable lips. Wow. You really want to wipe the smugness in his face by kissing him. Or you want him to kiss you. Eh, both is good. “You are staring. Do you need anything? Maybe we should rest now and—“

“Nuh–uh.” You shake your head stubbornly. You tighten your hold around your beefy husband who looks down at you with obvious softness in his scarlet eyes. “Arm wrestle with me. Please?”

Diluc caresses your cheek with his thumb. “I do not think that is a good idea.”

You grin, “But that’s what you think. I, however think that it is a good idea!” Unaware, you start to roam your hands under his silky shirt. Diluc visibly stiffens, when you reach certain spots in his defined muscles. “Pleaaaasee?”

You wonder if Diluc has caught on, with the way he begins to blush from your insinuations. For a moment, he sighs in defeat, and then presses his lips on your forehead. He whispers, “Alright.”

You celebrate when he takes you to the dresser. He gently lets you sit on the plush stool, while he takes another chair to be beside you. You excitedly swing your arm, waiting for his own, and you cackle in delight when his warm fingers intertwines with yours.

“Don’ flirt with me. ‘s not a good a strategy,” you claim, and Diluc surprises you by kissing you promptly on the cheek. “Diluuuuc. . .”

“I cannot help it,” He confesses, looking a little timid and apologetic. But you know that he may do it again. “But if that is what you wish, then—“

“Later,” you pout. It’s not like you don’t like his kisses. There’s a more important thing to do here! “e’re gonna compete first.”

As you explain the rules of arm wrestling to him despite the basics already ingrained in your brains, you fail to notice how Diluc keeps on gazing at you with such fondness.

“Also, just because you do lifts and I don’t doesn’t mean you’ll go easy on me,” you boldly say. Diluc has as advantage, sure, but you believe that you can find a way in breaking his victory streak. You just can feel it in your bones. Trust.

But as always, Diluc keeps on defeating you. But the good thing about it is that your husband continues to dote on you even more, even if you grumble at him.

With the loving ( and supportive ) glances he sends you while you attempt to beat him and random kisses he gives you every time he wins “my reward” he says—you repeatedly tell him not to flirt with you, and he, in turn, answers again with “I just couldn’t help it.”

gojo never imagined an arrange marriage with you, but now you’re all he can think about.

he thinks about you when he’s training, when he’s seated at his round table, when he’s in his bed, everywhere, every time, you’re all he can think about.

and you’re oblivious to it.

you heard the gossip everywhere you walked, about the girl gojo was pleading with his family to marry. how much he loved her, how beautiful she was, how much more elegant she was compared to you. you knew you were never his first choice, not even his fifth, but it hurt even more when everybody acknowledged it.

you stopped wearing your wedding ring, started acting like you were just another person there. luckily gojo didn’t seem to be in any hurry about making heirs, so pretending like you two were working things out didn’t even matter anymore.

you find yourself alone most of the time. your maids were kind and patient, but they had so many things to do throughout the day that you felt awful pestering them to walk around the estate with you.

eating dinners with gojo became normal, but most of your other meals were in silence, always feeling like a speck of dust in the large dining hall.

one day when you’re walking around aimlessly you stumble across the training grounds, the open space below you filled with men swinging wooden swords back and forth at each other.

it wasn’t difficult to find your husband, his white hair hard to miss in a crowd of others. he didn’t notice you watching from above, and so you stayed hidden, not knowing if the men were picky with who watched them.

he was swift and agile. everything he did was precise and with meaning. no wonder he was named the best warrior of the north.

you found this to be more entertaining than walking around the gardens for the tenth time or watching the cooks assemble the next meal, so you didn’t even notice how gojo looked up to see you, somehow slipping away without you knowing.

you were in a state of watching but not really thinking, almost jumping out of your skin when you heard his voice behind you.

“didn’t know i had an audience,”

you yelp, flinching as you look behind you to see your husband all sweaty, panting slightly as he moves his hair away from his face. you eye the stairs that led him up here, wondering how you could’ve missed that.

you laugh sheepishly, giving him an apologetic smile as you pick are your nails.

“i’m sorry,” you scratch behind your ears, feeling heat rise to your cheeks under his intense gaze. it’s unfair how pretty somebody can look, especially after training for an hour straight, “i was just walking around and i saw this.”

he waved it off, shaking his head as he leaned his sword on the wall.

“not a problem,” his eyes shine, “i just would’ve tried harder if i knew my wife was watching.”

my wife.

the words fall so smoothly from his lips you wonder how many times he’s said it before. with malice, hatred, necessity?

you smile a little bit, eyes crinkling around the edges as you look away briefly, not noticing the way gojo chased after your cheerful face.

“how’d you get up here? where are your ladies?” he asks suddenly, looking around at the fact that it was just you up here.

“my what?” you say, looking up at him through furrowed brows.

“you know,” he waves his arm around as if that would help, “you’re ladies in waiting,”

you scrunch up your nose a little bit, something he noticed you did when you were confused.

“oh, well, my maids are working right now,” you tell him, noting that he still didn’t look any less confused.

“no, not your maids, your ladies,” he tilts his head to the side, “the girls your family sent them up to help you around.”

you stare at him, unblinking.

“the girls that are your friends, the ones that help accustom you…” gojo trials off when he realizes he’s not getting anywhere with you.

you feel even more embarrassed than when he caught you watching him, hating the way you were clueless at yet another thing in this life that no one explained to you.

“the girls you hang around with?” he finally lands on, hoping this jogs your memory.

you shake your head, eyes wide as you fidget with the fabric of your dress. his eyes fall onto your finger, lingering on the fact that you’re not wearing your ring.

“who do you spend your time with throughout the day?” gojo seems even more lost than you. he’s seen you with…? well surely that one time…?

“by,” you swallow, embarrassed, “by myself. i walk around a lot.” you admit sheepishly.

“your family didn’t send…?” he answers his own question with his silence.

this entire time you’ve been alone?

he opens his mouth to speak but somebody beats him to it.

“satoru! get down here! we’re still not done!” his friends shouts from below, and you look over your shoulder to see all the men staring at the two of you.

gojo stares at you, unblinking.

“i,” he swallows but can’t find any words.

you can’t either.

he leaves you there, running down those stairs as he shouts at the other guys to resume what they were doing. that entire day he was off his balance because he kept looking up to see you there, but you weren’t.

maybe you were just walking around, like you said.

˚ ⊹ ✫ * ˚ 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝒍𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒓 ˚ ⊹ ✫ *

✫ * · ˚ ⊹　　 ✫　　 　 · ˚ ⊹ ✫ * · ˚ ⊹　　 · ˚ ⊹ 　 ✫　　 　 · ˚ ⊹ ˚ ⊹ ✫ * ·

~~The lone star who sought the heavens~~

A fanart of Sunday because I loved his character and I'm excited for his release <3

Always be prepared in your life

you ask him to open a jar that you superglued shut.

includes: xiao, zhongli, ayato, thoma, and itto.

warnings: gender neutral reader, fluff.

notes: please this is the favorite thing i've written so far.

xiao.

xiao prided himself on always being available when you needed help. so when you called him and presented him with a tightly shut jar, xiao was more than accepting to help you open it. 

except that he couldn’t.

xiao frowned when the lid didn’t budge. he tried again, repositioning his hands on jar, but still the lid refused to moved. and then again. and again.

it was only when you let out a quiet wheeze did xiao stop. he looked up and saw you, your face flushed from trying to hold back your laughter, tears almost coming your eyes. 

“what?” he asked, slightly defensive. “what are you laughing at?”

“you,” you got out between laughs. prephaps not the best way to put it. at that, xiao raised flushed in embarassment, and you rushed to catch your breath and explain. 

xiao couldn’t believe he’d been had. especially by you. he threatened to never come to your aid again, especially not for such another “stupid” request. when you pointed out that was an empty threat, xiao only stalked off, not saying another word. 

poor xiao. all he wanted to do was help you. now all he could do was sulk in the corner like a scolded puppy, a perpetual frown on his face for the rest of the day. 

you better apologize. 

zhongli.

zhongli had faced many hardships and challenges in his few thousand years of life, but the small jar in front of him was proving to be one of the toughest yet. 

he underestimated its potential when you handed it to him with what he thought was a simple request. zhongli might have even laughed if he got it on the first try after your futile attempts. but he had lost count of how many times he tried to failed to unscrew the lid, and he no longer felt like laughing now. 

“it’s like,” he said as he tried yet again, “you superglued it shut.”

“no, i didn’t.” your answer, too quick. too defensive. too prepared. 

zhongli paused mid attempt. he glanced up at you, and you saw the realization slowly dawn on him. “you did superglue it shut.”

you shook your head and said again, “what? no, i wouldn’t have, i swear it.” 

your smile was nervous and forced and completely guilty. it faltered as zhongli put the jar down, crossed his arms, and gave you a disapproving look. “was this really the best prank you could come up with?”

“i’d like to see you do anything better.”

“is that a challenge?” zhongli asked. he didn’t let you answer. “if so, then i gladly accept. just be warned, [you]. i won’t be holding back.”

his eyes twinkled with all things mischievous. although you might have won this round, you suspected that zhongli would have the last laugh after all. 

ayato.

ayato, ever the intellectual, didn’t at first try to unscrew the jar. instead, he immediately began to run it under warm water. then, very unceremoniously, ayato whacked the jar against the countertop. after a few hard strikes, he then attempted to unscrew the lid. 

imagine his surprise when his methods of loosening the jar didn’t work. he tried again to the same result. 

you should have stopped him then. told him it was a prank, had your laugh, and rested on your laurels. 

but no, you decided to wait and prolong the humorous display before you. you watched as ayato moved around the kitchen, grabbing anything and everything that could aid him in his quest to open your jar. a spoon to wedge open the lid. a paper towel to wrap around the base. a bottle opener to try and break the seal. 

every single method that could have been found on a random blog was now being done in your kitchen. when, at last, ayato exhausted all his various items after failed attempt after failed attempt, you expected him to give up. 

but his face somehow began more determined. you were about to admit to your prank when he cautioned, “stay back.”

you were about to ask why when the flash of ayato’s vision and the quick movements of a hydro sword stopped you. it was over in an instant, and in its wake your jar—

your eyes widened. it was cut cleanly in half. 

“well, that certainly did the trick,” ayato said, quite proud of himself.

you stuttered out a string of incomprehensible noises, unable to fully process what just happened.

“although, i might have gone a little too far.” it was only then did you realize that ayato had not only sliced the jar in half, but the entire countertop, too. cleanly down the middle. ayato shrugged. “oh, well.”

you really should have stopped him earlier.

thoma.

how could you do this to poor, sweet thoma? your boyfriend trusted you entirely and genuinely thought you just needed help opening a particularly stubborn jar. 

now he only felt bad that he couldn’t. and you didn’t have the heart to admit it was a prank, not after he called ayato and ayaka for advice on how to help you. not after he watched several youtube videos on how to open it. not after he consulted google for the better part of an hour. 

you knew that you had to eventually, but as of right now, you were in too deep. prephaps if you got him to stop trying and told him later, it would soften the blow. 

“it’s okay,” you said to thoma as he tried yet again. “it’s really fine. i didn’t really need it opened.”

but thoma would not listen. he steeled himself to try again and—

nothing. the lid didn’t budge. the jar remained perfectly shut. 

and then your worst fears were realized to be true when thoma put his head down and started to sob. you opened you mouth as he practically shook from crying so violently. the frustration had finally got to him.

“no, thoma, please stop!” you said frantically, immediately pushing the cursed jar away from him. 

“if i can’t do this for you, what can i do?”

“don’t say that!” you insisted. and then, without thinking, “it’s just a prank! i glued it shut—“

“so you admit to it?” thoma looked up. no tears stained his cheeks. his voice was completely normal. a hint of a smile even laced his lips. “you admit to pranking me?”

you blinked in surprise. you were played.

thoma trusted you entirely, and he knew you even better. the way you handed him that jar with an innocent little smile… he knew. he knew before you even opened your mouth.

thoma, one. you, zero.

itto.

the first time it wasn’t a prank. when you needed help the previous night to open a subborn jar, you asked itto because you genuinely couldn’t do it yourself. 

“that was nothing!” he boasted after opening the jar with ease. “i could do that blindfolded and upside down, [you]. are you sure you just didn’t want to see how awesome i am?”

“i loosened it,” you protested.

“yeah, yeah,” he dismissed you. itto continued in a carefree tone, “listen! it’s fine. i don’t mind help you out. i can open any jar you give me, i promise.”

you raised an eyebrow at that last part. and now, standing before itto once again, a jar you superglued shut the night before in your hands, you decided to see if itto could really make good on his promise. either that, or recieve a rude awakening. 

as judging by the amount of glue you used, it was going to be the latter. 

“can you please help me with this one?” you asked. your blinked your eyes up at him in a show of innocence. your smug smile was hidden underneath a small pout as you pretended the jar had gotten the best of you. 

“another one?” itto asked in mock exasperation. he grabbed the jar from you and said, “watch and learn.”

itto twisted, and—

it opened. the jar opened. itto had opened the jar as if you hadn’t poured an entire bottle of superglue on the lid and rim. 

your mouth dropped open. itto offered it back to you and asked, “why do you look so surprised?”

“i…” your voice trailed off. telling itto would only further fuel his ego. and you really didn’t want to deal with him talking about it the rest of the night. “i’m not surpised. thanks for… yeah. thanks.”

itto gaze you a puzzled look. then he shrugged and said, “what’d i tell you? i told you i could open any jar.”

you could only nod in agreement. itto had no idea just how correct that statement was.