#What do I even tag here

[obviouslacking]

this is wholly embarrassing but i watched h-e double hockey sticks (1999) for the first time last night and, in the midst of my jeric brainrot, it made my mind go ❣️

so i wrote a teensy, terrible ficlet. i gave it a saccharine little title. griffelkin/dave, because of course it is. what are niche fandoms for if not to practice writing bad fanfiction? anyway. this goes out to the folks on jeric twt

edit: she’s on ao3 now! someone please join me over there so hedhs can become an actual categorised fandom

the sign on your heart (it's still reserved for me)

aka when hell freezes over

*******************

It was the greatest night of Dave Heinrich’s life. 

He’d just won the Stanley Cup; the girl of his dreams was on his arm and he was enjoying his hard-won victory. Only… something was wrong. Through the lights, and the confetti, and the cheers, he watched as Griffelkin melted away into the crowd. Like he was never there. Like he’d never be seen again — by Dave, anyway. The triumphant grin slipped off his lips. It was cold, suddenly, out there on the ice, in a way the exertion had masked before. Everything he’d just accomplished began to feel… hollow. The only reason he’d managed to achieve anything was because of Griffelkin, chaotic and ridiculous though he was. Because, for some godforsaken reason… he’d believed in Dave.

He’d made him a better person.

What he’d had with Anne had been good. It felt like they had grown up in the rink together. But they’d been chasing after a dead-and-buried version of the past for too long now, blindly gripping to nostalgia instead of moving forward with their lives. It was now clear to him: it was time to set them both free. 

He turned to her with regret, “I’m so sorry, I have to go.” 

She didn’t understand, “Dave, wait—”

He couldn’t. He had to get out of there or else he’d lose his chance entirely. He knew how it looked: Dave Heinrich, the golden boy, leaving the Stanley Cup celebrations — the moment he’d worked towards all his life, the pinnacle of his rising star. He didn’t care. He was proud of his team, proud of himself, but… none of it would feel right until he saw Griffelkin again. Until they got to be proud of what they’d done together. The two of them, their own team.

He had to get him back.

It took hours. He drew pentagrams in chalk on his nicely laminated flooring. He lit candles. He tried ominous chanting, tried reciting an exorcism he thought he saw in a movie once, tried everything he could think of to summon Griffelkin back to him — short of screaming at the sky in despair.

Nothing worked. He was forced to sit himself down by the absolute mess he’d made with a sigh, body still aching from the torture it had endured that day. He couldn’t stop thinking about the way Griffelkin had held onto him as he lifted him up onto the sickbay bed. Or the sight of him in his Angels uniform; wearing Dave’s number, Dave’s name. He’d been chasing after the Cup for so long, treading water with his girlfriend for so long… he’d forgotten what that felt like. To have a fire inside you, one that burned for a person. 

If Griffelkin technically counted as a person, anyways. Dave was still a little.. fuzzy on the details. If he thought about it too much, he was sure he’d lose his mind (even more so than he likely already had. Maybe he’d just taken a really hard check out on the ice one day, and this was all some kind of fever dream—)

“What the hell are you doing?”

Jesus Christ!!! Dave had sprung up and away from the sudden intruder in terror before he could even realise it was the intended object of his summonings. Here, at last. Hours after Dave had wanted him. The creature lived to spite him.

Even so, just seeing his face again… Dave needed to say his piece. “I had to talk to you. It wasn’t right, how you just… left, after everything. Why did you just leave?”

Griffelkin was uncharacteristically muted, like all the flair had been drained out of him. “You got everything you wanted. You didn’t need me anymore.”

*******************

Griffelkin was lost. 

He’d come to Earth to be wicked. To do bad deeds. To steal the ever-ripe soul of one Dave Heinrich. He’d never anticipated… everything that had happened after that. Becoming invested in the lives of actual, honest-to-God people, turning against the will of Beelzebub and everything he’d trained for to show compassion… it was entirely out of left field. Or left.. rink… (curse his sudden investment in that stupid game. It was just unnatural).

He’d never anticipated the way something about Dave was just… different. When Griffelkin was with him… he’d never felt like that before. It itched throughout his whole body; like that awful diner food, or the smell of the trees as they polluted his insides. Something horrible like… sunshine, or flowers, or the way Dave would smile breathlessly after he won a game—

Oh, hell.

Griffelkin had done it. He’d gone and fallen in — he took a moment to tamp down the nausea — love with him. The human. His former mark. What on Earth was he going to do? 

Quite literally. He definitely didn’t think Hell would take him back any time soon, and the folks upstairs… well he didn’t know WHAT was going on with them. Gabby was their earthly agent?? She made him look positively angelic by comparison — and that was saying something.

So here he was: stuck topside, having horrendously squishy feelings for someone who would never like him back. Why would he? He’d got the Stanley Cup, got the girl… he didn’t need Griffelkin anymore. Dave’s soul may have been bound to him once, but they’d essentially ripped up everything that had tied them together. Their deal was done. 

If only he’d known sooner… he’d never have got those two back together!! If he'd ensured they'd remained separated, he could have done his buddy Lewis a solid — he wouldn't have had to deal with Dave's impressive ego anymore!! Meanwhile, Griff could have swooped in at just the right moment, offering his soulmate both the shining Cup and his blackened heart on a brimstone platter……

But it was too late. They were all finally happy, at peace; everyone’s souls intact. Hurray! Griffelkin had no choice but to just fade into the background. Leave Dave be. He’d already interfered with his life enough. 

Or so he’d thought.

He wasn’t entirely sure why he was currently standing in Dave’s living room. He’d just felt drawn to the place, something that had never happened before. At least, not without some kind of demonic intervention. Somehow, he didn’t think that was at work here, despite the look of Dave’s once-glossy pad. The space seemed to be covered in… satanic paraphernalia of some kind. 

Aw, he was almost touched. Mildly offended by the amateur job (WHO taught him how to draw a pentagram? And scented candles, really?? Was that glitter over there—) but… touched, nonetheless.

Dave was sitting on the floor, hunched over, still in his jersey from the game. He looked miserable. 

Griffelkin felt that increasingly familiar tremble in his chest. He took it out back and shot it dead. “What the hell are you doing?”

Dave jumped out of his skin at the words. He was so cute when he was being existentially horrified by the forces of Griffelkin’s dark magic. Damn him. He’d failed already (typical, typical, Griff, can’t do anything right). He had to stop thinking of Dave like that, not when he wanted nothing—

“I had to talk to you….. it wasn’t right, how you just…. left, after everything. Why did you just leave?”

He… wanted Griff? 

That couldn’t be right. No matter how much it pained him, all he could think to do was be honest: “You got everything you wanted. You didn’t need me anymore.”

Dave seemed distraught, hearing this. Griffelkin had never seen him like that before. He didn’t know what to make of it. He looked… agitated, but not like he was when his hockey career was on the line; sad, but not in the same way as he’d mooned over… whatever her name was. 

He admitted, “I thought that was what I wanted. But then… you weren’t there.” 

No one had ever… cared about Griffelkin before. Was this how the Grinch had felt when his heart grew three sizes bigger? Griff might as well just sprout wings and take up harp-playing, at the notion. He’d never felt so blessed, 

“Aw, Dave, buddy, you missed me? It was my sick moves out on the ice wasn’t it? You just had to come crawling back—”

Dave kissed him. 

*******************

Dave couldn’t listen to that yapping for one more second.

So, he grabbed Griffelkin by the stupid clothes he was still wearing and kissed his stupid evil mouth. It took only a second before he melted into it like he’d been feeling the exact same feverish longing as Dave, silenced by—

Oh, he’d finally shut him up. He should have thought of doing that sooner. 

It felt like a long time coming. It felt like no time at all.

Slowly, he released Griffelkin from his desperate grasp. It took the demon several seconds to blink his eyes open, staring back at him in awe. Well, Dave would feel just terrible if he’d broken him somehow. (Though maybe it would serve him right, just a little bit.) 

Satisfied, he leant back. 

“You gonna stay now? You don’t have anywhere else to be, right? Hell, or the Underworld, or wherever it is you’re from?” He hoped he never found out all the gory details. He suspected he was going to.

Griffelkin was still stunned. His hands twitched where they stayed clinging to the back of Dave’s jersey.  “No, I… I think I’m right where I need to be.”

“Good. ‘Cause I don’t know if you know this, but I just won the Stanley Cup.” He smiled at the thought… what an insane life he was leading. Dave Heinrich: youngest player to ever earn that mythic trophy; currently falling headfirst, circle-after-circle, in love with Hell’s finest.

Griffelkin smiled back at him, a little goofy, joy glimmering in his eyes, “Oh, you did?”

“Uh huh. And I could use some help figuring out where I’m gonna go from here.”

“Right, well…” Griffelkin swallowed. “I might just know a certain devil who’s going through kind of a similar situation right now. He might just take you up on that offer.”

It felt like the proper conclusion to their little adventure: both balancing on the precipice of a new journey. One Dave wanted them to tackle together — no matter how many ridiculous escapades came about as a result. They were just better as a pair. He knew they’d make it work somehow. If there was one thing he’d learned from all this (besides the whole being a selfless team player thing) it was that he could use a little more chaos in his life.

He pretended to mull Griff’s response over. “No contracts required?”

“Actually now that you mention it, I think I might have forgotten a sub-clause back there—” 

Dave kissed him again. Man, that really did work miracles. It was about time he evened the scales a bit, in terms of which one of them was holding power over the other. He had to be careful or it just might go to his head.

They were still standing in the midst of Dave’s embarrassingly terrible pentagram. Luckily, the candles had all been long-extinguished by the time their lips had met, or they would have been facing a serious fire-safety hazard right about then. Dave had come too far to have his life cut short in that blissful moment.

His arms wrapped around the neck of his tormentor, who bound their bodies together with his own embrace in turn. 

At least they wouldn’t be able to sue him for breach of contract: Dave Heinrich’s soul belonged to the demon Griffelkin after all. 

Along with his heart, and mind, and body, and whatever else he decided he wanted along the way. Dave wasn’t fussed in the slightest.

Hell began to thaw.

[ae-neon]

Unpopular acotar opinion that has nothing to do with the Archerons and the IC

Disclaimer I love Jurian, I think he should have killed MORE Fae, power to him

I don't understand why Jurian and Vassa are in Prythian

Like tbh there was no point in bringing him back or bringing her there, doesn't she have a country to run or something? I haven't read sf, is her curse still relevant?

Good on Lucien for having people he can turn to but for the main story, what is the narrative purpose of those two?

I guess with the multiverse sjm gets away with stretching the story out but I still consider the trilogy to be it's own thing and in that they just feel... unnecessary? Idk

[ryomaandgundhamkin]

I got distracted so here’s the line art for my chaotic ruin redesign

I know what I’m doing dw-

[tearyeyedanimal]

slightly late raffle prize for back when I hit 4k on insta :) I like drawing humans!!!

[mychlapci]

reading that Tarantulas and Prowl processor overload ask has revived one of my recently dormant fetishes

(this is an expansion on the forced porn download ask actually, wasn't really done b4 sending)

Prowl's archives just being a massive database of miscellaneous data, which seems like a fully practical thing that he'd do for simulation work at first glance, but in truth, he just never deletes anything because he gets off to the feeling of being just sooooo full in places no physical sensation can reach.

He wasn't always like this, you see. Prowl used to maintain good software management habits. He'd defrag according to a strict schedule, used connection buffers often and cleared his processing queues before recharge. He would never think twice about netdiving into shady websites with nasty popups, let alone download anything from there. But eventually, as his processors develop at that exponential pace his handlers noticed upon bringing him online, Prowl got bolder.

Bold enough to make a slip up and plug into a corrupt mainframe, triggering that forced download and kickstarting his fetish for good. He barely remembers anything about that incident other than an overwhelming mental barrage of arousal. Sometimes Prowl wonders if his colleagues at the time knew just what was literally going through his head as he slumped over on the console, seizing in place as they frantically tried to disconnect him safely. Maybe they caught the scent of his overload under his panels, and chose not to say anything.

Prowl would of course say that he was perfectly fine after that incident, but he'd be haunted by that instance of utter bliss he'd felt when like 30 terrabytes of ERP chatlogs and erotic flashgames burned through his neural circuitry. Eventually, he'd start by visiting a library. Full of clean and safe data to indulge in. Then he started logging all non-confidential precinct data, like routine security footage that's get deleted anyways, and dispatch call recordings. Then he started downloading from legal websites, then onto not so legal ones.

He even has backup and extra hard drives stored in his office and habisuite in plain sight, since no one else but other archivists and data specialists would catch on to his kink in the first place. Every once in a while, he'd plug himself into all these units and just let all that data flood through him, his fans and cooling systems squealing in effort to keep up with the deluge of information forcing it's way through his staticy brain, reducing his overclocked cognitive units into jello as his RAM gets consumed by pure uncontrollable math.

He loves the feel of his mind being pounded by googols of nonsense, it makes him hornier than anything else. He'd save anything from the internet, books and numeric databases are his usual go tos; high definition media are a must, the more graphically and audially intensive the better; the most unoptimized and performance heavy video games, anything that would fill up his hungry battle computer until it's full to bursting and melting.

Sometimes when he feels extra naughty, he'd even fire up the various malware and viruses the Spec Ops team would bring back, on top of all the seedy ones he'd find online. He'd trigger them in his processor and lie back in his berth, finger his fluttering pussy and feel the malicious software start tearing through his brain as his battle computer instinctively fights back, making him feel soooo hot all over. And every time he overloads, it sweeps all of his progress, and the self cleaning protocols will just have to restart as he writhes helplessly in the dark of his room.

Software sanctity? Fuck that, he'd hit anything as long as it demolishes his brain and make him into a silly, messy, spasming horny mess. A real dataslut.

god this is so good. He's quite literally overloading his processor out. It's almost like an addiction. Of course, Prowl could stop any time he wants... he could, he just doesn't want to! After a while, pumping his head full of junk data and malicious viruses is the only way Prowl can even have a fulfilling orgasm. Being full of miscellaneous data is just not enough. It's a pleasant pressure in his constantly calculating brain, yes, but if he wants to cum, he needs something stronger. He'll keep frying his brain inside of his helm as long as he gets to feel that electrifying thrill of his battle computer struggling to deflect the attacks on his mainframe.

It feels like he's falling apart at the circuits, delicate wiring so hot that it's disintegrating into dust, and all he can do is frantically rub his soaking wet valve through it all, optics bright and staring off into space as his HUD floods with nonsense. All his senses are completely taken over by the foreign malware, all he knows is that he feels so good.

Honestly, I wonder what would happen if he got stuck like that. Just for a day or two. And someone had to find him in his apartment, face twisted in pure bliss as his frame keeps twitching even after countless hours of continuous overloads. Of course, Prowl's processor gets cleaned out after that, yet he can't help but want to repeat it... to feel so absolutely stuffed and overwhelmed with data that he's just a wet, helpless thing. To give up control and let his processor sink into endless pleasure.

But for now, he's got a morning shift at the precinct to finish.

[sometimes-men-need-help-too]

Gearing certain toys for boys-defeating the purpose or no?

So I'll say in advance that I wasn't able to get a screenshot. Facebook refreshed on me when I went out of the app for just a moment so that sucks

Anyway, I'll summarize what was said

So there was a post about dollhouses geared towards boys like Batman themed. A lot of people thought it was a neat idea but others didn't

If you don't know, there's kind of a big debate (well, I'm not sure how big it is anymore. I used to see more posts about it) on boys playing with toys like dolls. Some people, on either side of the spectrum, feel very strongly about it

On this post, some people felt like a theme geared towards boys defeats the purpose of them playing with the dollhouse, adding that there's nothing wrong with them playing with pink ones too

There's nothing wrong with it, of course. But some boys who may have an interest in dolls/dollhouses may not want a traditional looking one that's pink and whatnot. And for the record, some girls may not want that either

The point of this should be that kids should have the freedom to play with whatever toys they want instead of them being pointlessly restricted because they're not necessarily geared towards them

It doesn't take away from anything if it so happens to be more boyish

[gatorade1]

Bros a Nerd ☠️☠️☠️

[yestomelons]

Serial designation N!

[therealdistortion]

a little while ago I found out (was literally told by them) that a person I had a really big falling out with and hadn’t talked to in over a year found my TikTok and has been watching my content for a while she even noticed when my account got banned and I got a new one 😭 luckily my account was just tma and general fandom stuff and she at least to some degree knew I was into fandom when we were friends but not as much as I am now I’m just kinda hoping she doesn’t have tumblr though I don’t think she does cause in a way her knowing that I have and actively use tumblr may be a little more awkward that a TikTok account

[can-of-w0rmz]

I doodle meself. Meself gets doodled. Doodles of meself have been doodled

[crumbleclub]

so i was checking the wiki for the mci kids and i came across a picture from one of the graphic novels and like.

this is actually the most terrifying image i've seen of any official art. the fact that they're all just. set up in the chairs, limp and lifeless? with the party hats?

this is a million times scarier and more morbid than the more bloody, body horror types of takes i'm used to from my steady consumption of michael content. the graphic novels still aren't my favorite but like, underrated image. this one's scary.

[panukkie]

pov i was left alone in the aggie

[grimmz-art-only]

KILLER FISH FROM SAN DIEGO

other stuff below

Program used: Ibis Paint X

Time taken ~2 hours total

Bg was made of many images I yoinked from pinterest with some modifications/adjustments to color.

[ryomaandgundhamkin]

doodle bc why not (i made this on concepts, never thought id use the app again but i downloaded it again for fun lmao)

I hate coloring on here because the colors glitch out so much-

[karistiltskin]

PARALLEL OF THE CENTURY.

and both are sixteen in their fics too??????

ohmygodohmygodohmygod when fandoms collide you get a screaming teenage girl

[sometimes-men-need-help-too]

Here's a lil tip

If you're craving a sugary drink but you're trying to be healthy and cut down on your consumption, suck on a peppermint. Or just chew gum, I guess

It worked for me. I went ahead and drank soda anyway one time and it was so gross lol