#pk writes

Gansey heard Ronan’s raucous laughter before they spotted him, rounding the tent, and tension he hadn’t realized was living in him uncurled in his chest.

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Richard Gansey III/Blue Sargent, Ronan Lynch/Adam Parrish, Adam Parrish/Blue Sargent, Richard Gansey III/Ronan Lynch, Henry Cheng/Richard Gansey III/Blue Sargent Additional Tags: Polygangsey, Polyamory, not cdth compliant, Future Fic, Fluff, Domestic Summary:

"Gansey wanted to be able to do this - set up a new home for him and Blue and Henry - and not have their new location encroach on what Adam and Ronan had. He loved them and so he didn’t want them to think he was relying on them too much. Moving closer to Adam and Ronan was already a delight - a promise to see them more than once every couple months and allowing early morning and late night time together. But Gansey didn’t want them to see how much he had been changed, so he had planned to get the house together before they arrived the next day."

Gansey learns to ask for help.

sorry this took so long!!! i’m a mcfreaking mess rn, but i hope this is okay! thanks for the prompt, anon!!! ♥

prompt fill for, “I have you shoved against the wall but now I can’t stop looking at your mouth”

This is far from ideal.

They’re swimming in a sea of wolves with nothing but the clothes on their backs, the chips on their shoulders. There are diplomats and actresses and socialites, all dressed to the nines, mingling and dancing in a room of gold and diamonds. And it’s nothing Chrollo can’t handle since he’s an expert at adopting a different persona within the blink of an eye—the perks of being born without an identity, he likes to think.

But Kurapika is both decent and terrible at blending in because his suit (mass-produced, probably, judging by its stitching) is dull from repeated use, his sleeves are too long and he’s in desperate need of a proper haircut, yet it’s his show-stopping smile and careful choice words that trap the ill-prepared, distracting even the staunchest skeptics from his questionable appearance.

It’s impressive. In another world, he would have made a fantastic Spider.

omfg yessss!!!!

“Hi, welcome to Menchi’s. Please try our new chicken burger-”

“A proper response would be, you know, polite,” Chrollo teased with a slight tilt of his head. 

The blond paused for a moment to give the other man a peeved stare. He opened his mouth, only to close it once more. “Hi, welcome to Menchi’s. Please try our new chicken burger. It’s fantastic.”

“Is it, now?” When Kurapika moved to clear another table, Chrollo swiftly followed. He was getting better at this, whatever the game they were playing was called. 

It started out innocently enough. Phinks had depleted their stockpile of ketchup bottles, and no one had been in the mood to go grocery shopping, especially since Uvogin and Nobunaga had a nasty habit of picking up whatever they damned well pleased. Not that this was troublesome all the time, but they couldn’t afford another sixty cases of beer when Nobu had nearly exhausted their savings on crappy, cold tempura.

Perhaps it was fate talking when Shalnark suggested that they nab a few packets from the new burger joint across the street. Apparently, they had an entire bar dedicated to a wide assortment of condiments, and customers were free to grab as many as they wanted. Packets were smaller than bottles, yes, but if they played their cards right, they’d never have to spend money on Phinks’ ungodly obsession with ketchup ever again. Seemed like a win in Chrollo’s book.

Plastic bags at the ready, they had entered the restaurant and headed straight for their objective. Color him surprised when they were nearly thwarted by a blond man they had never seen before. Most of the city recognized them for their infamy, but this guy must’ve been new if he had the guts to throw Nobu out onto the street like that. 

According to Machi, his name was Kurapika, and he had gotten scolded by the general manager after that little stunt. Not that it would have mattered, of course. The Spiders were nothing if not persistent, and Phinks still wanted his damn ketchup.

Two months and several police calls later, here they were, fueling Number 5′s addiction yet again. Kurapika’s protests had lessened over time, probably because he realized he was getting absolutely nowhere. Chrollo liked to think it was indicative of their slowly-budding friendship.

Maybe Kurapika had noticed how Shizuku’s pockets were practically bursting with plastic spoons, but he had the good graces not to comment. Anymore, anyway. Before he could retreat to his safe haven behind the service counter, Chrollo stepped in front of the indignant blond, ignoring the incredulous look on the other’s face.

Chrollo watched with amusement as Kurapika forced himself to meet his gaze. “May I help you, sir?”

“Yes, actually,” he chirped back, motioning towards the empty utensil holders, “I’m afraid you’re all out of forks. Would you be so kind as to grab a few more?”

Chrollo had to stifle a laugh as Kurapika’s eyes widened comically. True to his word, there wasn’t a single spoon, fork, or knife left on the bar. Kurapika surely noticed Kortopi’s retreating form as he sprinted out the door.

The blond gaped openly for a moment before his features turned carefully blank. With a faint exhale, he gave the other man his trademark customer service smile. “I apologize for the inconvenience, sir. I’ll go ahead and get you one straight away.”

…What was he up to? “Thank you,” Chrollo found himself answering back with a tiny grin. Whatever Kurapika was plotting, it was bound to be amusing. He never failed to disappoint, after all.

Upon his return, Kurapika gave him an apologetic simper and waved his empty hands in front of him. “This is unfortunate, but it seems like we’re completely out of stock…”

Within the short time they had known each other, Chrollo had the great fortune of witnessing a wide variety of expressions on the other’s face. Oddly enough, the impish curl of his lips suspiciously resembled one of Feitan’s shit-eating smirks…

I’m going to create the best pjo/homestuck AU I can muster up.