runyou-clever-boy

[runyou-clever-boy]

[runyou-clever-boy]

To all my mutuals: I love you very much (mostly platonically)

[runyou-clever-boy]

ChatGPT said:

Zach had only just finished setting out a couple of glasses—nothing fancy, just something clean and vaguely matching—when the knock came. He froze for a second, heart catching somewhere between his ribs. It was ridiculous how a simple sound like that could send a little thrill through him, how just the idea of Jett standing on the other side of the door could shift his whole damn mood.

He ran a hand through his hair, making sure it wasn’t a total disaster, then pulled open the door.

And there Jett was. Sheer blouse catching the light just so, pizza box in hand, grin playing at the edges of his mouth like he knew how good he looked.

Zach gave him a dry once-over and stepped aside. “You apparated in that? Are you trying to give people heart attacks in alleyways?”

His tone was teasing, but the way his eyes lingered on Jett’s silhouette in the soft fabric said more than his words did. It wasn’t just attraction—though, yeah, that was definitely part of it—it was the comfort. The presence. Jett showing up, pizza in hand, mischief in his eyes, like they were part of something reliable.

Zach shut the door behind him and nodded toward the couch. “Go on, set up. I even put a blanket out like some kind of domestic wizard.”

He padded into the kitchen and grabbed the drinks, returning with a half-smile as he set them on the coffee table. “Didn’t think you’d bail on a rock concert for my antisocial ass. Gotta admit… kind of flattered.”

He flopped down beside Jett, close enough to feel the warmth of his knee brushing his. The scent of pizza filled the space, but it was the softer note—Jett’s cologne, faint and familiar—that pulled something steadier in Zach’s chest.

He leaned back, took a sip, and glanced over.

“Alright, mystery man. What’s your plan? Pizza, a cheesy movie, maybe a game of who-can-pretend-not-to-be-starving-for-a-kiss-the-longest?”

His smirk widened just slightly, but the edge behind it was soft. Hopeful.

( @quaintnecromancer )

[text] - Getting ready for the Weird Sisters concert tonight. Sure you don’t want to go? I still have that extra ticket if you change your mind~

Zacharias looked over the picture with hungry eyes, he felt something stir but was sadly preoccupied.

{IMAGE SENT}

TEXT: MEOW ! TEXT: still cat sitting :( TEXT: you look purr-fect TEXT: come over and have a pre drink before the show TEXT: bring pizza TEXT: and less clothes ;)

[runyou-clever-boy]

Zach didn’t respond immediately. His gaze stayed fixed on Rico—on the way he moved through the shop like magic itself was a second skin. Not flashy, not boastful—just innate. And yet the grin, the flirt, the "still want to be friends, cutie?" line—it all came with a human edge that made the prince of Kamet feel more like a real person and less like a walking legend.

Zach crossed his arms, letting the silence stretch just long enough to make it pointed.

"First off," he said slowly, "You don't get to call yourself ‘not that powerful’ after taming a wand like that and casually reading its history like a bedtime story."

He didn’t say it aloud, but the swirl of magic that had shimmered around Rico—a kind of quiet blue pulse—had made the hairs on Zach’s arms stand on end. Not threatening, but old. Older than the room. Older than him. And that was saying something.

“Second,” he added, smirking now, “Calling me cutie while discussing soul-splintering wand cores and lightning bird blood? You really know how to flirt with someone’s trauma.”

Zach let out a breath, half-laugh, half-resignation, and stepped closer, eyes flicking from Rico’s wand to the boxes that had bowed to him. A few still hummed faintly on the shelf, as if reluctant to let him go.

"You’ve got power, sure," he continued, more serious now, “but you’ve also got restraint. Most kids our age? They’d be breaking windows and trying to duel portraits with a wand like that.”

He angled his body slightly so Rico could see the shelves Zach had been eyeing earlier. “The wand obeyed you because you didn’t command it—you earned it.”

Then, after a beat—softer, a little more real:

"...That’s rare."

He looked over again, met Rico’s eyes, and shrugged like the compliment didn’t weigh heavily on his chest. "So yeah. Friends sounds good. But you’ll have to deal with the fact that I get weird when I’m impressed."

DH: Junior Diplomatic Duties

[runyou-clever-boy]

Zach’s smirk faltered—just slightly—when he caught the flicker of tension in the stranger’s movements. The sleeve tug. The flash of something black and serpentine. The way the guy stiffened like he’d been caught mid-spell.

Interesting.

He didn’t miss the way the other man’s hand hovered protectively over the tattoo, like it was a secret someone might snatch if they looked too long. Not fear exactly—more like irritation. As if Zach had stepped into a room uninvited and refused to wipe his boots.

Then those eyes lifted. Blue, sharp, tired in a way Zach recognized. The way someone looks after too many nights not sleeping, too many people asking too much. Or maybe Zach was just projecting again. Wouldn’t be the first time.

"You seem like someone who likes listening to himself talk."

Zach raised a brow, then grinned—not insulted, but amused. “Well, at least one of us has the guts to speak, farmboy.”

He leaned a shoulder against the tavern’s stone wall, unbothered by the stranger’s growing defensiveness. The sleeve now fully covered the snake tattoo. Zach didn’t point it out. That would’ve been too obvious.

"And why would I want a wizard to imprint on me? That sounds like something they should be paying me for."

Zach let out a short, sharp laugh.

“Depends on the wizard,” he said easily. “Some of us are worth the price.”

He let the innuendo hang there a second too long, then shrugged, all mock innocence. “Though if you’re planning to keep pulling dark magic out of your sleeves like that, you might wanna work on subtlety.”

His gaze flicked to the spot under Murdoch’s sleeve—not accusatory, just observant. The way a duelist might mark where an opponent kept their wand. Or where they hid a scar.

“Relax,” Zach added after a beat, softer, though still laced with attitude. “I’m not looking to snitch. Just… got a thing for magic users who sulk behind taverns and flirt by accident.”

He stepped back a half-pace, giving the guy some air—just enough to not seem like he was crowding him, even if he was still interested.

“Name’s Zacharias, by the way. Or just Zach. Your move, shadow-sleeves.”

Magician League

@runyou-clever-boy

Life wasn't exactly the easiest in Sunray Province for Murdoch. One, his memories were limited and nothing in this nation ever reminded him of where he once came from. Two, his magic was illegal, so it was best to keep that hidden, even though he always had a constant itch in his fingers and the back of his throat to use them. Three, he had a limited income.

Murdoch, a half-drow, in a mostly human kingdom was lucky enough to have shelter and be clothed and fed by his foster family. All he had to do was a little manual labor every now and again on their pig farm. Didn't change the fact that every so often he'd get teased for not caring for the gruel they ate, or how he had to be broken of the formal way he talked.

Today, he was in the capital of Sunray Province, quietly smoking a cigarette in the back alley next to a Magician's tavern. That itch was there, wanting to go in and mingle with other magic users like himself, but knowing he couldn't exactly show off and impress all the men and women with his skills. So, instead he decided to lurk outside, like a weirdo. Quietly examining and speaking to the black snake tattoo that wrapped around his wrist, almost in a soothing manner. If one looked long enough, they would swear they saw it move on his flesh.

[runyou-clever-boy]

[Text] Wrong text you any day if this is what I get in return 😏 [Text] That confidence + abs combo? Dangerous. [Text] Careful, or I’ll start pretending to misdial on purpose.

{Poison Oak}

Text: I think you got the wrong number bud Text: Ya look good though

[runyou-clever-boy]

Zach rounded the corner of the tavern with his usual mix of confidence and thinly veiled irritation, a sack of spell components slung lazily over his shoulder. He hadn’t meant to take the alley shortcut, but he hated weaving through crowds. People in Sunray Province always acted like they'd never seen a bloody wand before. Every time he opened his mouth or cast a minor levitation spell, he got looks. It was exhausting.

So of course, he wasn’t in the mood to find some scrawny, smoke-wreathed farmboy cosplay reject hunched outside the Magician’s tavern like he was waiting to be told where to stack the hay bales.

Zach stopped short, brow arching high as his eyes dragged over Murdoch.

“Let me guess,” he said dryly, taking in the worn boots, the calloused hands, the vaguely haunted eyes. “You’re either lost, loitering, or hoping the smell of wizard piss will rub off on you if you sit there long enough.”

He didn’t say it with venom—just bluntness. The kind that dared someone to get defensive. Or prove him wrong.

His eyes narrowed slightly, zeroing in on the cigarette and then… the movement. Subtle. Barely perceptible. But Zach didn’t miss things like that. His eyes flicked to the black snake winding around the guy’s wrist.

“Huh,” he muttered. “Bit fancy for a hog-wrangler.”

He took a few steps closer, leaning one shoulder against the opposite wall of the alley, arms crossing loosely.

“Didn’t peg you for the magical type. Then again, magic here’s so watered down and paranoid, people probably start twitching if someone lights a match too confidently.”

A beat passed, then Zach added with a smirk, “You’re not one of them, are you? Hiding out here waiting for a wizard to imprint on you like a lost duckling?”

He let the words hang in the air—taunting, yes, but not cruel. Zach had a way of testing people. Pushing just enough to see what was under the surface.

And something about this guy felt… off. Not bad. Just not what he appeared to be.

Zach tilted his head slightly. “Well? You gonna say something, or is the snake the mouthy one in this situation?”

Magician League

@runyou-clever-boy

Life wasn't exactly the easiest in Sunray Province for Murdoch. One, his memories were limited and nothing in this nation ever reminded him of where he once came from. Two, his magic was illegal, so it was best to keep that hidden, even though he always had a constant itch in his fingers and the back of his throat to use them. Three, he had a limited income.

Murdoch, a half-drow, in a mostly human kingdom was lucky enough to have shelter and be clothed and fed by his foster family. All he had to do was a little manual labor every now and again on their pig farm. Didn't change the fact that every so often he'd get teased for not caring for the gruel they ate, or how he had to be broken of the formal way he talked.

Today, he was in the capital of Sunray Province, quietly smoking a cigarette in the back alley next to a Magician's tavern. That itch was there, wanting to go in and mingle with other magic users like himself, but knowing he couldn't exactly show off and impress all the men and women with his skills. So, instead he decided to lurk outside, like a weirdo. Quietly examining and speaking to the black snake tattoo that wrapped around his wrist, almost in a soothing manner. If one looked long enough, they would swear they saw it move on his flesh.

[runyou-clever-boy]

MIDNIGHTER & APOLLO BY DAVID TALASKI

[runyou-clever-boy]

“i’m not a dog” I say getting on my knees to beg for your attention

“don’t treat me like i’m your dumb dog” I say as you coo at me and play with my hair after a long day

[runyou-clever-boy]

Please like/reblog this if you're willing to roleplay with villain characters without acting like the mun is a terrible person.

I writing evil or nearly evil characters more fun than writing good guys. I’m sick of feeling like people are going to judge me for my characters. I have a right to rp what I want and explain my characters actions, but not try to justify them. Because I know why a character acts a certain way doesn’t mean I think they are excused. The world isn’t black and white.

[runyou-clever-boy]

Zach blinked. That was… unexpected.

He turned slightly to glance at Rico—really looked at him this time.

The apology caught Zach off guard—not because it wasn’t deserved, but because he hadn’t expected it from someone who had just effortlessly dismantled three hexes and set a gnome scampering like it owed him money.

“…Thanks,” Zach said, stuffing his hands into his robe pockets.

He paused outside the narrow arched doorway, the old brass sign swinging lazily overhead in the breeze.

Zach leaned against the doorframe, glancing at Rico again.

“You’re not the only one who hears things, you know,” he said, voice quieter now. “Not voices exactly, but… stuff that gets loud in your head when you're not careful.”

He shrugged.

“Doesn’t matter. Just saying—I get it. Sort of.”

There was a moment of stillness. The shop’s enchanted bell gave a gentle ding behind the closed door, like it knew they were lingering.

“Come on,” Zach finally said, pushing the door open. Warm light spilled out from inside. “Let’s get you sorted before the voices start giving me a headache too.”

As they stepped in, the scent of cedarwood, parchment, and faint electric magic filled the air. Shelves of wand boxes reached the ceiling, some stacked precariously, others humming softly with restrained energy.

DH: Junior Diplomatic Duties

[runyou-clever-boy]

Zach let the corner of his mouth twitch into a grin as he read Jett’s messages. They had already lit a slow burn in his chest, but it was the follow-up that really got him.

He knew Jett wasn’t a big crowd guy. Knew the whole “public wizard” act grated at him, even if he played it well. But giving up front-row tickets just to bring him pizza?

Yeah. That landed. Hard.

He flopped back on his couch, letting Crookshanks scurry away. His thumb hovered over his phone for a second as he considered the kind of reply that would hit just the right balance of playful and honest.

[Text] – Toppings? Surprise me. Just no pineapple. We’ve been over this. [Text] – And Jett... you really didn’t have to ditch the concert. But I’m glad you did. [Text] – Can’t lie... the thought of you showing up at my door with pizza and that look in your eye? [Text] – Kinda worth more than front-row seats.

Zach paused. He considered deleting that last one. It was too much, maybe. Too real. But instead, he hit send and tossed the phone on the cushion beside him before he could overthink it.

His stomach flipped in a way he’d never admit out loud—not yet anyway. The kind of flip that meant Jett was getting under his skin, and not just the way he used to with those stupid smug looks and good hair.

He stood, stretched, and glanced at the clock.

Twenty minutes.

He could light some candles. Clean the place up. Or, you know, leave it a mess and pretend like he hadn’t been nervously pacing for the last five minutes wondering what kind of “tempting” night Jett had in mind.

( @quaintnecromancer )

[text] - Getting ready for the Weird Sisters concert tonight. Sure you don’t want to go? I still have that extra ticket if you change your mind~

Zacharias looked over the picture with hungry eyes, he felt something stir but was sadly preoccupied.

{IMAGE SENT}

TEXT: MEOW ! TEXT: still cat sitting :( TEXT: you look purr-fect TEXT: come over and have a pre drink before the show TEXT: bring pizza TEXT: and less clothes ;)

[runyou-clever-boy]

( @quaintnecromancer )

[text] - Getting ready for the Weird Sisters concert tonight. Sure you don’t want to go? I still have that extra ticket if you change your mind~

Zacharias looked over the picture with hungry eyes, he felt something stir but was sadly preoccupied.

{IMAGE SENT}

TEXT: MEOW ! TEXT: still cat sitting :( TEXT: you look purr-fect TEXT: come over and have a pre drink before the show TEXT: bring pizza TEXT: and less clothes ;)

[runyou-clever-boy]

ⓘ You can Bite your Friends.

[runyou-clever-boy]

Threesome NSFW Sentence Starters

“I thought maybe my friend could join us today.”

“How would you feel about adding someone else to the mix.”

“I want to watch them fuck you.”

“Do you think you can take us both in?”

“You don’t have to do this it’s just an idea.”

“Everyone remember the safeword.”

“If you feel unsafe or like you’re hurting please tell us and we’ll stop.”

“You like sucking his cock while I take you from behind?”

“You seem to be enjoying the both of us.”

“God I love hearing you enjoy yourself when they touch you.”

“Now it’s their turn to fuck you.”

“I want you both…now.”

“Please, I can’t take it anymore I need you both inside of me.”

“You like being used by the two of us?”

“You looks so beautiful when you’re being fucked by us.”

“I can’t believe we haven’t tried this sooner.”

“Would you be okay with another man/woman in our bedroom I want them to fuck me while you watch.”

“Remember you have to share.”

“God why didn’t you tell me they were so good at this!”

“Are you sure this is okay. They are your partner after all.”

“I’m interested in joining only if its okay with the two of you.”

“Please both of you, make me cum!”

“I love seeing you both beg for my cock.”

“Do the both of us really make you that wet?”

“Kiss him/her while I prepare you.”

“Mmm show them how good you are.”

“Should we use toys on you too?”

“Tell us what you want us to do to you.”

“Does that feel good baby? Are we making you feel good?”

[runyou-clever-boy]

“men can’t get pregnant” not with that attitude #keeppounding

[runyou-clever-boy]

Text: Wrong number… or the right kind of stranger? Text: Glad you liked what you saw. Text: I aim to impress, even accidentally

{Poison Oak}

Text: I think you got the wrong number bud Text: Ya look good though