#Sals-Corner

[sals-corner]

Something a lot of people say to justify shipping Aromantic characters with other characters is that "Aromantics can still date", which yes, is true, and I'm glad that people acknowledge that. But I need people to also understand that there are also Aromantics who don't want to date, and that just because an Aromantic may want to date doesn't mean they suddenly act like how an Alloromantic does when seeking a relationship.

To make things even clearer, let me describe what Aromantic/Asexual means.

Aromantic/Asexual: Experiencing little to no romantic/sexual attraction and/or desire, the 'little' refers to having attraction that feels weak, and may also be indistinguishable from feeling it at all, this means that whilst someone could feel some attraction or desire, it doesn't mean that its felt the same way an Alloromantic feels attraction.

So with all that in mind I want to move onto the subject of discussion, Alastor from Hazbin Hotel, who is canonically Asexual AND Aromantic, a lot of the fandom says that it's not confirmed that Alastor is also Aromantic, however his voice actor has actually stated several times that Alastor is Aromantic, and had also done research on the Aromantic community to understand his character better. Throughout the entire show, Alastor has shown to be repulsed and avoidant of anything sexual and romantic. Rosie even calls Alastor an "Ace in the hole", which is a joke about him being Asexual, but because a lot of people don't know the difference between Asexual and Aromantic, especially when watching a show that is so hypersexual, this comment is made to show that Alastor is interested in none of that.

And sure you could argue that maybe you don't want to ship Alastor in a romantic way, maybe in a queerplatonic way, maybe you want to explore his dynamic with Lucifer and have them be in a QPR. But I need you to understand that you can't substitute romance for a qeerplatonic relationship and treat it the same as a romantic relationship, qprs aren't romance lite. And ALSO, not all Aromantics want Queerplatonic relationships either, Aplatonics exist.

Alastor is Asexual, and he's also Aromantic, he is openly romance repulsed, if you are going to ship him with a character, please just treat him like one, show how him being Aroace affects those relationships and what a relationship actually means to him as an Aroace.

[orangecharactersmackdown]

Beel lost because Tails species tastes really really bad

up there with Solomon's cooking </3

[lynsstrange]

my favorite thing has been scrolling through a good girl’s guide to murder reviews by large publications bc they all describe it as “light” “fun” and “classic” and it’s like. They really won’t know what hit them by season 3

[salty-an-disco]

STP is the most 'let's all go to the playground and play dolls' fandom I ever been in, and I love that about us

[jerrythebug]

Some fast drawings I made for Twitter

[bleue-flora]

So in light of this post [here] about Dream breaking glass, I kinda got inspired to see how long it actually takes to break compared to obsidian.

Turns out that according to the Minecraft Wiki, it takes 250 seconds to break obsidian with just a fist, and Mining Fatigue III increases the breaking time by 370. So to break the obsidian in the cell it would take 250 x 370 = 92,500 seconds or about 1541 minutes or about 25 hours 41 minutes and 40 seconds. As for tinted glass, it takes 0.45 seconds to break (regardless of the tool without enchantments) which means with Mining Fatigue III it takes .45 x 370 = 166.5 seconds or 2 min and 6.5 seconds to break. That doesn’t seem like a lot in compared to obsidian but for reference, breaking obsidian with just a diamond pickaxe normally takes 9.4 seconds and ancient debris with a fist takes 150 seconds. So 2 min seems short but would feel like forever if you were actually playing Minecraft.

Another interesting thing to note is that mining blocks alone without moving doesn’t really decrease your hunger apparently so contrary to what I sometimes thought about, Dream would not starve while breaking. And if Sam really did deprive him of food for long periods of time, technically if he just didn’t move much he would be fine, however given how uncomfortable Sam was in Daedalus when he was hungry I imagine that while Dream could (and did) survive it wouldn’t be like he wasn’t still experiencing the unpleasant and adverse affects of starvation… so technically speaking in the realms of Minecraft for all the fanfics I’ve read where he gets to a point of not moving and starving to death, that actually wouldn’t happen for as long as he didn’t move around he wouldn’t starve.

[ohlookitsthearkhamknight]

Okay so we’ve all seen that the shirt Tommy is wearing when hes showing Buck around harbor is pretty similar to the shirt Sal wore when he got kicked out of the 118 and it gave me an idea

for story purposes and personal hc i imagine tommy and sal are bestfriends they just had to deal with alot of shit between them first

Sal: “Hey Tommy have you seen my nice shirt? The tan one with the pocket? I cant find it anywhere and I checked all over my house and figured if its not there it’s somehow over here.”

Tommy: “Oh yeah it’s on the clothes rack.”

Sal: ….. “Why do you have my shirt?”

Tommy: “I “borrowed” it”

Sal: “WHY”

Tommy: ….. “So you know that cute guy I was talking about that I met on the helicopter with howie and hen?”

Sal: “Yes the one you haven’t shut up about.”

Tommy: “Okay soooo the day after, he called me and wanted a tour of harbor and im like cool I get to show him around and maybeeee see if hes interested. So I went to find a nice shirt. Problem is I couldn’t find anything and didn’t feel like doing laundry sooooo I might have went over to your house and stole your shirt 😁”

Sal: …. “Really?”

Tommy: “Hey at least I washed it and ironed it, YOUR WELCOME”

Sal: *deadpan* “Thanks.”

Tommy: “Hey don’t start, you’ve worn my shirts for dates before and I didn’t complain. Plus the ladies like you more because my shirts always smell better because I wear better cologne”

Sal: “My cologne is just fine thank you very much”

Tommy: “no to be honest it stinks”

Sal: “No it doesn’t!”

Tommy: “Yeah it does :/“

Sal: *grumbling* “I hate you”

Tommy: *flashing a shit eating grin* “Love you too Sal, thanks for being my unwilling wingman❤️”

Sal: *rolls his eyes and walks away smiling while muttering something about gay people*

[luckyreds]

I said I was gonna post modern web before Christmas- 😔 it keeps expanding on itself. You can have the first piece of chapter 1. Alright byeee🚪🚶‍♀️

Heavy Eurobeat thumped relentlessly against the basement walls, each pulse vibrating through David's entire body, making the room feel as if it might collapse under the pressure. From his lonely perch by the pillar, the dance floor below him resembled a writhing, pulsing organism, alive in ways David could barely comprehend. Strobe lights splintered the darkness into jagged fragments, catching brief snapshots of glistening, sweat-soaked bodies tangled together in chaotic unison. A thick mix of artificial fog and acrid cigarette smoke curled in the air like a restless spirit. The club’s heavy metal doors wheezed open and shut like lungs, exhaling smoke and heat into the chilly November night.

David blinked, disoriented. This wasn’t dancing, not really. This was chaos set to a beat, He wasn't a stranger to a good night out; after all, Manhattan was chock full of them, and he had his fair share of nights out on the town, but between this and Manny’s car wash it was like going from the opera to a garage band.

He pulled at his collar in discomfort, when Denise had enthusiastically proclaimed that they were heading to the best club in town. He had dressed accordingly, or so he thought: a simple, crisp button-up shirt, neatly tucked-in jeans, and his usual dress shoes. However, the raised eyebrows he had gotten from his colleagues should have been his first warning sign. The glimmering, sequined tops and oversized baggy trousers they were wearing should have been the second signal that he had fundamentally misjudged this whole night out. Nevertheless, he had shrugged it off as they piled into the backseat of Thomas’s Volvo 240, arriving at the place just after 10.

The intersection was bustling with life, dotted with several vibrant restaurants and bars, each more lively than the last, but they had ignored it, marching straight past a crowded bar brimming with laughter and music into a dark, narrow alleyway. Where trees obscured most light from above, creating an almost eerie ambience as they joined the line leading to an unremarkable set of metal doors tucked away down some stairs behind the bar. The only thing that indicated there even was a club there was the posters plastered on the grimy brick wall, one simply a Eagle coming down with Club Eazy written underneath in a looping scrawl. Another from a week ago: you are invited to our 2nd anniversary Halloween weekend special! Fri-Sat-Sun from 9-5. It was right there, in between the clusters of alternative styles, the already faint thumping erratic music, the scent of weed and the heavy musk of sweat, David truly should’ve acknowledged that this club wasn’t his style.

Sighing, he checked his watch for the fourth time. 00:31. Thomas had gone to get drinks twenty minutes ago, maybe longer, and hadn’t come back yet. Mel and Alice had wandered off to the toilets and similarly vanished in the throng of people, and Denise managed to charm a cute girl into a corner and slipped out of the club moments later with her hand in said girl’s back pocket. He scanned the crowd for familiar faces, but it was hopeless. The strobe lights turned everything into disjointed flashes, and it seemed his colleagues had melted into the chaos.

this was Mauvaise Fois, David thought dimly, twirling his glass of beer in his hand, watching the lukewarm liquid swish around like a sad excuse for a drink. That was why he had ended up here, in this dingy club. He should’ve listened to his mother and used his gap year on a trip through Europe. But no, he had to be stubborn, follow the example of Lewis Nixon, who had quit Yale and the family business and to Philadelphia with a mysterious redhead from rural pennsylvania. making a name for himself here. It had been quite the scandal, and David had been enthralled. Of course, he should’ve realised that such things didn’t work for him. because here he was, three months in, churning out mediocre horoscopes for a B-tier magazine, surrounded only by colleagues who, despite their familiarity, felt like distant acquaintances at most.

Really, Returning to Manhattan sounded increasingly appealing each day more he spent in Philadelphia; then he could finish his degree at Harvard and take the job at The New York Times his father had been hinting at, instead of getting lost in this hazy world of nightlife and regret.

The music shifted, morphing into an even faster rhythm that sent his head spinning. The two Mai-Tai’s he had weren’t doing him any favours right now. “Do you think you’re better off alone?” was repeated into his slightly swimming consciousness. It felt like the universe was mocking him, like a cruel twist of fate he couldn’t escape. fucking great.

Suddenly, a jolt knocked him from his thoughts as someone collided with him, sending his beer flying from his hand and spilling the tepid liquid down his arm and onto his already-ruined shoes.

“Hey! Watch it!” David snapped, shaking his arm in disgust.

“Watch it?!” the stranger retorted quickly, turning back to face him. He was wiry, with sharp features and deep brown eyes that seemed to catch the faint glow of the strobe lights. An unlit cigarette dangled from the corner of his mouth, his lips curling into a scowl as he leaned in to be heard over the relentless thump of the bass. “Maybe don’t hold your booze out like a trophy, Jeezus!”

It was then, the guy noticed David, really noticed him, eyes flicking over him, from his drenched shoes to his perfectly tucked-in button-up. “Huh,” he muttered, angry façade disappearing like snow in the sun. “what’s a yuppie like you doing in a place like this?”

David blinked, thrown off guard. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me. Baby blue here doesn’t exactly scream ‘underground chic.’ You got lost on your way to the country club or something?” the guy smirked, leaning even closer now, almost nose to nose with him.

David bristled with indignation, glancing down at his outfit and then back up at the audacious stranger “There’s nothing wrong with how I’m dressed.” He huffed, leaning back “And I’m not a yuppie!”

“Yeah, sure.” The stranger rolled his eyes dramatically and leaned against the beat-up iron railing beside him, flicking his lighter. A tiny flame flared briefly before igniting the cigarette, the cherry glowing red as he took a long drag. “Keep telling yourself that,” he said, smoke curling out with his words.

“I’m really not—” David opened his mouth to argue, but got a face full of smoke as the guy blew a puff of smoke directly at him watching with a lazy smirk as he coughed and sputtered. “It’s what I fucking see,” he retorted, a smirk playing on his lips “But seriously- what are you even doing here?”

David shot him a glare through watery eyes. “For your information,” he bit out “I’m here with friends.” The word stung in his mouth. Denise was the closest thing he had to a friend, with their shared cubicle and all. Thomas? He felt embarrassed to even label him a co-worker, and Mel and Alice? They had only exchanged brief pleasantries over the coffee machine. But no way was he admitting that to this guy.

The stranger raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. “Friends, huh? And where are they?” His tone dripped with scepticism, smirk morphing into something sharper, almost predatory. David swallowed, heat rising to his cheeks and flushing his ears.

“They went to the bathroom,” David shot back defensively, his arms crossing tightly over his chest.

“All of them, together? I’d like to see that,” the guy laughed, the sound almost cruel. “Sounds to me like they ditched you.

“They didn’t ditch me,” David insisted, though the words sounded hollow even to him.

“Uh-huh.” The guy took another drag from his cigarette and exhaled slowly, the smoke curling lazily upward. “Whatever you say, baby blue.”

David opened his mouth to retort but stopped. What was the point? His colleagues had ditched him, as accidental as it was. He felt a pang of frustration, not just at them, but at himself, for letting the whole situation get under his skin in the first place.

The guy observed him for a moment, and to David’s surprise, his grin softened, transforming from something mocking to almost playful, his dark eyes sparking with mischief. “You know,” he drawled, straightening up, “I was gonna leave you here to wallow, but watching you stand there like a sad puppy is just depressing. Come on.” He motioned toward the bar. “Let me get you a new beer at least.”

David blinked, unsure if he’d just been insulted or pitied. Either way, the night couldn’t get much worse. “make it something stronger and you have a deal.”

Joe’s grin widened. “Knew you we’re a fun one” he said and a slim but firm hand gripped his wrist as David was dragged from his place by the pillar through the bustling crowd of onlookers spilling out of the pit area for a moment of fresh air. The bar was conveniently situated near the restrooms and directly across from the doorways. A fluorescent oasis in the swamp of noise and grime, where the bartenders worked with mechanical precision, sliding glasses of glowing, sugary drinks across the sticky counter in rapid succession.

David scanned the area quickly, searching for Thomas but finding him nowhere in sight. ‘I’d better not see him now,’ he thought darkly, frustration creeping in once more as he thought of him. The annoying prick.

His new acquaintance quickly wormed his way to the far left side of the bar, where they seized a spot at the very end. He leaned over the sticky counter, his voice cutting through the pulsating bass as he called out to the bartender. Almost instantly, a young bartender approached, a crooked grin spreading across his face. “Heya, Joe! The usual?”

‘Joe,’ David thought absently. So that was his name, and it suited him; all cocky charm and bravado

Joe flashed a smile " Yeah! Two of them! And a Sobel for him," he ordered. The bartender smirked knowingly at the last request, nodding before grabbing the well-worn beer tap.

David raised an eyebrow, his curiosity sparking past his frustration. “What’s a Sobel?”

Joe barked out a laugh, slapping him on the arm. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

In the back, David noticed the bartender retrieving bottles of vodka and hot sauce from underneath the bar. His stomach churned at the sight, a pit of unease settling in. Joe turned toward David, a conspiratorial glint in his eye.

“Ya got some cash on you? I’m tapped out.” jabbing his thumb to a cracked neon sign flickering weakly behind the bar, spelling out "DRINKS $5 CASH ONLY" in an uneven pink glow.

David nodded, half distracted by the strange ingredients retrieved for whatever concoction Joe ordered him, feeling in his trousers for his wallet. Fumbling a bit, he opened it and pulled out the first bill he encountered, slapping a crumpled fifty onto the bar.

“This enough for the night?”

Joe peeled it off the counter and let out a low whistle.

“Well, look at you, Rockefeller.” He grinned and flashed it to the bartender.

“You hear that, Malark?” he called out cheerfully. ‘Malark,’ the bartender, turned around and placed three glasses in front of them. “Is this enough?” Joe laughed, leaning over the bar to stuff the fifty into Malark’s shirt pocket with exaggerated flair. “Keep it!”

“Hey!” David protested, his eyebrows knitting together in a frown “That’s my money!”

“And you gave it to me, genius. Rule number one—never hand over your cash unless you’re cool with losing it.” He clapped David on the shoulder, chuckling. “Man, showing up in a place like this looking like you just stepped out of a J. Crew catalogue? You’re lucky someone hasn’t lifted your money yet.”

“You did.” David replied. Joe just shot him a look. “Think of it as a lesson.”

With that he swiped the drinks off the counter, thrusting a cloudy reddish beer into David’s hands with a smirk. “Come on, drink it. It’s a newcomer’s welcome,”

He swallowed hard, resolve wavering. He really shouldn’t drink it; the concoction looked utterly disgusting, and he was sure it wouldn’t taste any better. Yet, something within him refused to back down from Joe’s dare. With a deep breath, he tossed it back. The vodka and hot sauce seared through his tongue and throat like fire, the fizz of the beer only making it worse. He slammed the empty glass back onto the sticky counter, doubling over and sputtering. Above him, Joe cackled, enjoying the show.

“that’s it!” Joe crowed, slapping David on the back “Knew you had some balls on ya.” He handed David the next drink, something that resembled coke but it undoubtedly held some form of alcohol. David took a sip, almost retching again. It wasn’t just coke with booze; it was a godforsaken Jägerbomb. He closed his eyes, the realization sinking in like a weight. ‘What the hell,’ David thought. ‘If I’m going to get wasted tonight, let it be with something good at least.’

He tossed the Jägerbomb back, feeling the burn as it slid down his throat, and turned around, slamming the glass on the back. he looked at the much-too-pleased face of the bartender. “Get me a Mai Tai!” he called out, his hand already darting back into his pocket to produce another bill, a twenty this time, which he slapped down with renewed determination. “make it a double.” He added, glancing at Joe with a conspiracy look, two could play that game. “And a Four Horsemen for him.” Joe laughed once more, bumping their arms together. “Now we’re talking.” He cheered and David felt a real smile appear on his lips for the first time in a long while.  

[thesharksimp]

So I was looking at the game files of the Wadanohara Reboot and in the map section I got jumpscared by this little shit on the last floor before the princess' room

Jumpscare aside I was confused over why was he there, because these all seemed like the actual maps of the game in different sections, not testing ones. Which means at some moment of the game he appears there, moment I didn't know about

For reference I looked at the map that comes after this one and I had a ‼️ moment

This variant of the room with Tatsumiya is this part of the game

When she reveals where the Sacred Sword is now, big info that Sal needs for his plan

So I loaded my save file that's close to that part and reached the room (1st in the Reboot and then in the base game to check if he was also there but no one had ever realized) and guess WHAT

HE DROPPED HIS DAMN SNACK

[cassiesart]

Using @mossypidder's list of mermay prompts!

This was prompt 1, 'marine biologist'

[sals-corner]

Theory that Black Rabbit/M.X.E.S. is Shadow Bonnie, since he's part of an AR system and in Special Delivery Shadow Bonnie was collecting Dark Remnant but the character encyclopedia said he is a good guy if I recall correctly, it'd then make sense that Shadow Bonnie is trying to stop Glitchtrap/Mimic.

[creeky-cricket]

me and @sals-corner were watching the fnaf help wanted 2 premier and uh- shenanigans occurred lets just say that.

[vincentvega0721]

[salamandergoo]

I’m a little more than three quarters of the way through American Psycho and oof. Definitely not a book I’d recommend to most people, way more brutal than the movie (which tbh? Not that brutal). I’m gonna finish it, but goddamn some of these scenes are fucking visceral.

[asheanon]

The setup and preparation was perhaps a more humble one... befitting that of a traveler. A wayfarer, in particular.

Upon a makeshift surface sat a portable electric kettle (powered by unknown means) a container of sugar, two spoons and two ceramic saucers, clad in little more than solid white with minimal gilding, crowned by two teacups of complimentary design. Teabags occupied both cups, though, only one was met by the addition of the kettle's now steaming water.

It was jasmine green tea. One of her personal favorites. 💚 It was one that she carried with her everywhere she went in her "digital inventory." Something she would likely have quite the time trying to explain to the denizens of this planet...

A small measure of sugar was spooned in to the readied cup and stirred, the golden hue of fragrant petals and leaves staining the water in turn. The utensil was then given a light tap and set aside. She brought the cup to her lips - though, not to sip on as of yet, but to simply smell. The aroma brought a smile to her face.

It would seem Sal anticipated company - or, at the very least, was ready to accommodate any that may show. Had a little tea time play date been scheduled in advance with one of her musically compelled companions? Was this little more than a random rendezvous?

Perhaps she was waiting for you?

[radroller]

ROM Spaceknight #35 “Agony in Atlantis”

Written by Bill Mantlo, Illustrated by Sal Buscema and Danny Bulanadi