royco
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"Hey. You're gonna burn holes in the floor, sit down." Merritt hummed.
"Dylan can replace the floors then, let me burn them."
"Okay, fuck me then." Merritt huffed back.
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Or: Danny is paranoid, and Merritt is tired. They're gonna cuddle about it. Takes place between NYSM1 & NYSM2
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Somewhere in the world, a baby is born, a woman dies, and the neural interface known as NOVOTNI connects to Roy-Wambsgans wifi.
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Post S4 Shiv + Virtual Assistant Karolina AUBookmarked by royco
27 Feb 2025
Bookmarker's Notes
oh my fucking god. i havent cried over a fic in years and this did it for me. oh what the fuck. oh what the fuck
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Speed Trials (Take Two) by vulturepiano for princewardo (abrandnewboom)
Fandoms: The Social Network (2010)
14 Feb 2024
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You’d have to be a sick fuck to take a role in a Zuckerberg film. Some kind of glutton for punishment. The next day, Eduardo gets the script.
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or: Mark is a prolific director that is horribly difficult to work with. Eduardo is an A-list actor who wants to, for once, be in a film that's actually good.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 3,000
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Collections:
- 1
- Comments:
- 7
- Kudos:
- 70
- Bookmarks:
- 10
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- 569
Bookmarked by royco
30 Aug 2025
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He felt listless, strange. Like he should have told Eduardo, sure, okay. Let’s go. It was the alcohol making him think that way, he knew. It was the kind of attraction-addled thinking that he understood was not to be trusted - that he was, annoyingly, just as susceptible to as the next college student. That wasn’t a person he was willing to be.
Bookmarked by royco
29 Aug 2025
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give me mercy no more, that's a kindness you can't afford by serra_says
Fandoms: Now You See Me (Movies)
23 Aug 2025
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The familiar daze washes over him, then — instincts honing in, surfacing from where he spends the month pretending they’re not there, like he isn’t part predator as much as he is human, and the wolf shakes its head as it stretches out with a whine. The cellar is the same as it always is, the same as every month, and the absence of pack, of company and comfort and anything else, really, tears at him, calls from beyond the silver, untouchable door and the stone walls that keep him from the light of the moon.
The pacing increases, more and more frantic by the hour, until the circles it spins over and over again on the floor of the cellar drive it mad— and no biting at the stonework edges of the staircase, no scratching or tearing at the floors makes the walls give way, doesn’t provide a glimpse of the moon above or a relief of the panic and ferity that fester in the recesses of its mind.
The wolf paces, and paces, and rears its head up and howls.
J. Daniel Atlas is born a werewolf. This brings its fair share of issues — mostly, that he does not want to be one, and does whatever he can to keep it down — keep it under control. And then he finds a tarot card.
Series
- Part 1 of feral tenets