#dust reflection

[thefirststarr]

These cosmic clouds can be found 1,300 light-years away in the constellation of Cepheus and is called the Iris Nebula (NGC 7023). This deep telescopic image shows off the Iris Nebula's range of colors and symmetries embedded in surrounding fields of interstellar dust. Within the Iris itself, dusty nebular material surrounds a hot, young star. The dominant color of the reflection nebula is blue, which is because of dust grains reflecting starlight. Central filaments of the reflection nebula glow with a faint reddish photoluminescence as some dust grains convert the star's invisible ultraviolet radiation to visible red light. Infrared observations indicate that this nebula contains complex carbon molecules known as PAHs. People tend to say that this nebula reminds them of a flower, so it’s dusty blue ‘petals’ span about six light-years.

Image Credit & Copyright: Lorand Fenyes

[jasvi-art]

Pour me another one, will ya?

(the spider yaoi got me good your honor)

[alastorsfuckassbob]

We'll Meet Again

Alastorxfem!reader

Part two to "you're never fully dressed without a smile"

Plot: You're down infamously bad for Alastor. You work for a shift for Valentino and somehow you end up at everyone's favorite hell based hotel! I swear to god you will make physical contact with deal Al by chapter 3.

A/N: OH GOD THIS IS A LONG ONE, and honestly for an Alastor fic really Valentino and Angel Dust focused- but like any good story there are more than two characters so we should develop them✨

As always, minors DNI-

Somehow we got spicer and a bit more angsty so read the warnings and think critically if its something you really want to read

⚠️WARNINGS⚠️

-Domestic Violence, Abusive Relationships

-Swearing

-Valentino (has to be its own warning)

-Smoking and Alcohol use

-Sexual Innuendo

"Y/n"

"Y/n, please let me hear you. Your voice lights a fire within me that I cannot ignore"

The static popped, heartfelt and genuine, the phrase echoing throughout the dimly lit room and deep into the pits of your soul. It reminded you of those late nights spent at the studio with him. Of the memories you had created with him, you spent the least time mulling over your time at the station. It was just too much to handle, you would sit for hours talking about whatever fancies fit the time, swaying to the complex chords and swing of the music. No matter what mood you walked in with, it vanished the moment your frame entered his arms. Your hand grazed the edge of your cheek in the mirror imagining how his hand traced the outline of your face as it so often used to do. The show had hundreds of listeners, you were speaking to the world so it would appear, but anything and everything you said or played was made strictly for each-other.

Here you were, lost in time once again. You had missed those little moments, far more than you anticipated. You had always been one to get lost following the tracks of memory. but this..this was different, your body felt as if it was buzzing. His honey lined transatlantic accent reverberated throughout your skull. Sickeningly sweet, holding desperation but still not depravity. It lacked the typical Sadism and savagery, a commonality in your hellish experience. The wicked pair usually found itself wrapped around your arm and caught against your throat. You had become accustomed to those feelings of desperation, but somehow his was different. He hadn't said much of anything and it felt like he had bottled every sweet nothing and loving whisper he had uttered in your direction throughout your life, and poured them into his tonality all at once. The static grew heavier.

"Y/-n y-y-N"

his voice became distorted and crackled. He kept speaking but the words were mangled and malformed. You couldn't quite make out what he was attempting to get across. You couldn't lose him not another time, even if you hadn't really "had him" again.

It was enough to send you into a fit of desperation.The incoherencies faded out, only deafening static remained .

"Alastor"

your wavering voice filled with alarm. You rushed to the radio nearly falling of the counter as you did so. You feverishly tuned the knob hoping for just another moment with him, even if it was just audibly. The electricity crackles, and dark grey smoke erupts from the small box and into your face. You cough rapidly upon contact. The fire sparks, promptly melting the exterior of the radio.

"shit fuck shit fuck shit"

You rasp between coughs. Something ablaze was not entirely out of the ordinary, yet you remained panicked. you thoughtlessly unplug the radio, scalding your hands in the process. Not knowing what else to do, you throw the newly aflame radio into the tub. It wheezes out another plume of smoke before sinking down into the water.

"well that isn't..ideal"

You decide its a tomorrow issue and head off to sleep. Still slightly shaken up, you throw on a silky nightgown and plop into your bed. You wouldn't find peace in your sleep, you never did. You closed your eyes unready to face your demons but too exhausted to care.

The next day comes to pass sooner than you'd care to admit. You don't feel well rested, but you can't find it in yourself to go back to sleep. Your thoughts are still so dreadfully plagued with Alastor. The way his lips felt on your own, the soft gentle curl of his hair. Everything aspect of him was so fundamentally perfect. Even his so called flaws. He may be an attention seeking idiot, but he was your attention seeking idiot. That was all that mattered. You'd be happy to do most anything to supply him his attention fix. You looked at the clock across from your bed, it was already noon. You had told Angel you'd be at the club around one. Unhappily, you rolled out of bed grabbing another outfit from your closet to change into. You applied some simple mascara, and tied up your hair. You could finish getting read with Angel Dust like you usually did.

You arrive at the club meet Angel, you liked to arrive a few hours before your call time just to talk with each other. You had vastly different schedules but you made it work. You walk through the lobby watching other scandalously dressed demons go about their daily life. You could have sworn you saw a flick of shadow watching you from behind the other inhabitants. You shook it off, you didn't sleep well, its possible you're just seeing things.

You arrive at your dressing room, and knock at the door. Its a calm and quiet environment. The eye before the storm working tonight will plunge you both into.

"the fuck do you want, can't a guy do his eyeliner in peace"

you roll your eyes before opening the door, he glances back at you.

"oh hey toots, didn't expect you so soon- you're not late"

"Fuck off angel"

you sit down in your chair and begin brushing out your hair. Val was very particular about the image you portrayed, even if your hair was already curly he'd want it to curl differently, If it was straight, he'd want it consistent coiffed to his liking.

If you didn't have hair he'd probably get you a wig of some kind. You glance down at the black porcelain mask on the counter. It was delicately painted with small golden roses. It was the only thing between you and an army of horny fans. Angel finishes his eyeliner with a small flick of a wing.

He stands up and takes the brush from you. He combs through the ends making sure there aren't any tangles left before grabbing the curling iron. To be quite honest, you both absolutely sucked at doing your own hair, so you did each others. It was nice, and he always made you look good. You had known angel for quite some time, you felt like you knew who he was but nothing about him.

He was always rather private about the details of his life before hell. You had gathered he was Italian by his sound, and that he had been involved with the mob from small anecdotes he sometimes shared.

It didn't really matter who he used to be, he was your friend and you loved him.

"I mean this in the nicest way possible y/n, but you look like shit" He grabbed a strand of your hair wrapping it around the wand.

"oh gee thanks" you deadpan

"long night?" he asks releasing your hair from the curling wand scrunching it slightly.

"something like that, how about you, you look shockingly well rested, and i doubt its just the concealer"

"I'm staying at a new place" he continues working his way around your head.

"Val let you leave?" a hint of shock permeated your voice

"he can't dictate where i stay when i'm off the clock babe" He grabs a smaller curling want and begins with some small face framing pieces.

"does he know?" you ask hesitantly. You didn't want to upset him.

"I don't think he's caught on yet, probably figures I'm just out getting drunk and high off my ass"

"to be fair you often are"

"you're no angel either y/n" He rolls his eyes, he picks up the larger wand again and re-curls a few more of the back pieces.

"where did you move off to?"

You were lucky to have your own apartment. Most souls under contract with Valentino stayed in the complex....Your situation wasn't much better but it was enough. To be completely honest, you only lived about a ten minute walk from here. It wasn't much of a distance, but it was far enough Valentino would rather call upon some other, closer, unlucky soul outside of work hours to do his bidding. It was good enough. It was shocking to hear Angel had managed to find someplace with his cocaine habit and how little Val payed us.

"Its that rickety hotel on the edge of the Pride ring, I know it doesn't sound like much but its free" You almost visibly buffered from shock. How did he manage that? Then it hits you, he's probably sleeping there for free because he's sleeping with someone.

"who'd you have to fuck to get a room there"

"y/n" he groaned, slightly annoyed by your antics.

"No angel I'm serious, its hell people don't just give things out for free" you mused at his reaction.

"I didn't have to fuck anyone, its run by the princess, shes trying to rehabilitate souls"

"is that even possible" your mind began to swim with possibility.

"i dunno, i don't really care. It gives me a space to just exist..as myself..away from all of this"

your hand finds his way into one of his.

"i understand what you mean" your voice comes out no more than a whisper.

He continues curling your hair silently for a bit. Angel had his issues but he was a good person. He just found himself in a bad situation. Unexpectedly, he broke the silence. You two had a lot in common, including your tendencies of avoidance.

"you should live there too y/n, its free, and theres a bar, the bartender isn't too bad looking either."

You smile at the thought, it would be nice to get away from it all. Thats all it could be though, a thought. You were already on such thin ice with Val.

"Angie dear it sounds nice, but we both know I'm already Val's least favorite sinner. I shouldn't aggravate him more" you say with a defeated huff. Angel wraps another tendril of your h/c hair around the wand

"You can't let his life be your only life. I'm not stupid doll, I know you've been spending a lot more time around here." He's visibly and audibly frustrated.

He stays quiet for a minute picking up another strand of your hair.

"you're more than what you can do for Valentino okay? you were a person before you're still a person after, don't let him take everything from you." his voice becomes quiet, almost unrecognizable. Its velvety in a way, he speaks almost as if he's telling you just as much as he's telling himself Its the realest you've ever seen him be.

He quickly shakes it off

"his ugly mug cant be the only thing you see, I swear to god every time I look at him I throw up a little" He releases your hair from the curling iron stepping back to admire his work.

"now don't you look riveting" A jokingly seductive tone takes hold of his voice.

Your mind sparks with an idea, why complain about Val when you can just straight up mock him?

You stand up, rushing to the clothing rack, sift through the items before finding a long cherry red robe. Naturally its angel's. Its far too long for you, the second set of arms gets a little confusing, but eventually you slide it on. You sit back seductively on the counter mocking good ol Valentino.

"angel dust! you slut! you're fucking 20 guys before lunch! " You cross your arms dramatically before standing up on the counter. You strut across, being careful not to step on any of his things, but still maintaining the destructive energy Val usually carries.

A wild smile courses through your features, you grab the magazine Angel had been reading before you came in and throw it back into his face.

"Heres the 40 page shockingly kinky script about some kidnapping scene in France you have an hour to memorize, ignore the syntax errors and improvise!" He looks up at you baffled. I mean, you were right-He starts laughing uncontrollably,

"y/n what the fuck" he sputters out

You laugh along with him. He reaches up placing his arms around your waist, putting you onto the ground with very minimal effort. For a second you feel a bit like a house cat hopeless dragged off the counter. Angel was shockingly strong, for such a lanky guy he certainly wasn't flimsy or weak

A smug look overtakes his features

"let me show you how its really done"

He takes the robe off of your body and dawns it himself. He whips out a pair of bedazzled pink sunnies. Tilting them down, he gives you a cheeky wink. Once the knot of the belt is tied he is fully into character

"My siren! Y/n."

"oh god" you roll your eyes as angel begins his display. He walks across the room dragging you with him before twirling you into his arms. You cant help but be a little dizzy at the sudden motion.

"y/n, baby! You have made much so much money with that truly bodacious rack" He swings his arm around your waist. You both stifle a laugh as he drags his second set of hands across the shape of your body in the air in front of you.

"Angel I don't think Valentino would ever utter the phrase "bodacious rack", at least not in this existence" You form your fingers into little air quotes playfully rolling your eyes at him

"shh toots i am working on a real character here"

"Angel" you sigh

"shh" he hushes you again placing his finger against your lips.

Your collective antics go on for a little over two hours, stopping only briefly for you to style his fleecy hair. He looks at the clock before letting out an aggravated sigh. He pulls his body up from his chair.

"I gotta go doll, Val has me shootin yet another new movie before we shoot the scheduled "film", perks of being Hell's best actor" He grumbles grabbing his robe off of the floor leaving you alone in your shared dressing room.

You continued getting ready, expertly styling your newly curled hair and applying a thick coat of deep red lipstick. It wasn't too long after the door swung open. The suffocating smell of lust filling your lungs.

"My dear sweet y/n! how about we lose the mask for tonight?" Valentino burst into the room as if he owned the place. To be fair, he did. You still found it a bit off putting he didn't knock. Despite your profession, you valued privacy.

"Val-" You began, he cut you off.

"I don't believe I was asking." a smirk decorated his sly features.

"Respectfully, sir. It's not within my contract to appear as I truly am."

This shit again. Val was always on your ass about this. He always wanted more. Usually after a few minutes of arguing, he'd give up. There was nothing else he could do, so you don't think much of it. You pull out a cigarette, flicking the lighter, the small white stick begins to blaze.

You blow a cloud of hot red smoke in his direction. He rolls his eyes gritting his teeth in frustration. He takes a deep breath, sordid displays of force didn't work the best on you. You'd be frightened, but your stance would rarely change. Not unless he got physically violent, and quite honestly he was not in the mood today. You were not the most important thing to deal with. Its not that he didn't want to hurt you, he didn't want to waste his time. He tries a lighter, more manipulative approach.

"Think of how much success your beautiful little face would bring us. Sinners and Hell born alike already get off to your body, its just revealing a little bit more"

"No, I won't do it" your voice is small but resolute. He didn't have the patience for this. As soon as the word "no" left your lips Val had begun to lose it. "Wasting time" became a lot less important. Members of the Ars Goetia family would be present in tonight's audience. You had to look your best, so he could look his best.

"You are going to out there without that fucking mask and give all of hell a good show. You won't like what happens if you don't listen." He growled through gritted teeth

"Its breaking the contract. Val" You take another lazy puff from your cigarette. He ripped the cigarette from your hand, throwing it on the ground. He was done with your shit.

"I own you. Did you forget that, I own your body and your voice. you speak only when i want you to. You fuck who I choose. The only thing you technically have a right to is your name, isn't that right my little siren?"

His voice is sleazy to say the least, the tone makes you shudder. You couldn't help but think,

...was he right? you had asked to be anonymous, you never thought to specify how. He continued before you had a real chance to observe your thoughts. He wraps his arm around your shoulder, snakelike and seductive. He was getting tired of this, tired of you.

"the mask is getting old, hell will get tired of you if you don't give them more. you won't like what happens if they deem you all washed up.."

You attempt to move away, His grasp on your arm grows tighter. You flinch slightly from the pain, but not enough for him to notice. He wants to elicit a reaction in you, perhaps if you stay calm he'll give up.

"I have some very specific clientele coming to tonights show I need you to wow them"

You could hardly believe the audacity. Sure, Valentino was always kind of a prick but this complete and total discount of your previously agreed terms was relatively new. He had suggested removing the mask before and brought it up countless times, but this level of disregard was new. Screw being calm you weren't about to be this fundamentally disrespected.

"No I won't do tha- " his hand waves cutting you off. your voice caught in your throat the sigil on your hand marking his ownership glowing a dull faded pink.

"I can do whatever I please. I've let you forget that, I've been going too easy on you. Rereading our little contract brought me the enlightenment I needed. Those who bite don't get to speak" he pauses moving away from you taking in your figure.

"it looks like you'll just be dancing tonight, and what a wonderful performance that is going to be."

The click of his shoes taps against the stark white tile as he walks towards the clothing rack in the edge of the room. He hums, picking out a dark red burlesque outfit. He exchanges it for the mask from the table and breaks it in his hand.

"I think a more revealing number will compensate more than enough for your silence..don't you?"

Your last defense had been shattered. The last ounce of your personage robbed for the sake of pleasing some sleazy unsavory high end customer. You tried to speak but the words stayed nestled inside of you. You wanted to scream or talk honestly you'd take a whisper at this point, still, nothing. The anger in your heart welled its way up into your throat and without an outlet, your frustration took root in your tears."Great" you thought, "just what i needed to look respectable, yet another crying fit."

He grabs you by your shoulders, it had never registered how small you were in comparison. You knew he was tall, but in ten years, you'd never noticed how much taller he was. Usually the moth hunched over in some way to communicate better as his eyesight is less than superior...Yet here he stood a good three or four feet taller than you, anger almost visibly steaming off of his purple fur. two of his hands grasped firmly on your newly bruised shoulder, the other on your neck, and the last raised and ready to strike you. Closing your eyes you accept your fate. the contact comes and as soon as it does you are sprawled on the floor. Unable to move, unable to run. You had never been strong enough to fight. After all you were still the same person you were in 1936 and long after that. Your nose gushes blood, splattering droplets onto the tile as he abruptly jerks you up from the floor.

"maldita cabrona! quién se cree que es?"

he tuts clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth. It sounds oddly like the loading of a gun. Every aspect of his body was drenched this newly violent attitude. His moth like horns lined with anticipation, twitching with every rigid breath.

Valentino had gotten rough with you before but not like this. This time, it felt more real. He leans in closer, his face directly in front of your own. From another angle perhaps the pose looked sweet,loving even. The thought made you sick.His arm rested against your shoulder, just forceful enough to cause you pain but not so harsh to send you tumbling to the ground again. The sharp talons tipping his long fingers traced the edge of your face, deep red blood madly racing after it. He would have killed you then in there if you weren't such a "valuable asset".

"Next time you'll learn to listen, I've killed fuckers for less than this shit you're giving me. If I don't have the patience with angeldust I certainly won't have it with you, even if you're named hell's favourite pequeña pecadora." He pauses glaring deep into your eyes

"I made you y/n, i can take that away and kill you myself whenever i please. try not to forget that again"

His inflection is wickedly sweet, but not sugary enough to hide his true malice.

He grunts in frustration, throwing you against the dressing room table, the back of your head shatters the mirror. An all too familiar feeling. He laughs viewing the position he's put you in, it is a dry, heartless, and dirty sound. The silence after is chilling. You close your eyes bracing for another impact that just doesn't come. He must have gotten bored with you, he usually did after a while. The door finally slams, the lights of the dressing room flicker and then click off. You slide down onto the floor, all you are left with is the small pool of blood and regret.

The performance that night felt like an eternity. Your skin practically peeling off as lustful eyes burned holes through your skin. You had drank a few more than too many cocktails. It wasn't nice to refuse a gift, and it kept you a little less than fully conscious. stumbling through the hallway you arrived once again at your dressing room. you sat down hopelessly viewing the dark purple bruises formed from your previous alteration through the shattered remnants of your mirror. So much for not "damaging the merchandise" as Val would so often say.A soft knock rattles you from your thoughts. the door creaks open and Angel Dust slides in. You silently look at each other's exhausted frame and scratched faces. Angel was the closest thing you had ever had to a friend, and just about the only person who could ever understand what you're going through. After all, your experience was modeled after his.

"Whats wrong y/n? cat got your tongue?"

Despite his exhaustion he kept up his usual performance. You didn't respond, you couldn't. The tears so expertly rimmed in your eyes threaten to fall. His expression falters and he walks up to you hugging you tightly. You didn't need to say or do anything to explain. He knew exactly what you were going through. For just a moment you relax into his arms.

A minute or so passes and you break the contact. You figure a little context wouldn't hurt. You motion to the glowing sigil on your wrist and then to your throat, hoping he understood the signal.

"You can't speak can ya doll?" He asked softly his hand ruffling your hair. You shook your head no.

"God i hate that fucking prick, he can't just play fair. Maybe if he did that sorry fuck wouldn't be making shitty porn and running washed out clubs for a living". He angrily paces around the room. As he speaks you grab an eyeliner pen and the back of some flier someone left taped to your door. It seemed like the easiest way to communicate. You messily scrawl the words

"Can I stay with you I promise its just for one night"

He takes the page from you a smile taking root.

"damn toots what happened to not mixing personal and professional life?" he joked. You sat there motionless, tears threatening to spill. He takes the hint and grabs a coat off of the rack wrapping it around your shoulders.

"I thought you'd never ask-I've been dying to hang out outside this shit hole. Let's head out, Its gonna rain soon and these boots are too hot to be messing with that acid bullshit"

He posed albeit dramatically earning a smile from you. He tilts his head towards the door and the two of you leave the messy dressing room behind. It was one of the few things you didn't have to worry about. After all, Valentino values appearances, any mess you had made would be gone in the morning. In one way or another, you could fuck up any way and make any mess, and Val would have it cleaned up. The only messes he wouldn't fix were the ones he made himself. The cuts on your body always lasted longer than your reflection in a broken mirror. Unlike you the mirror could be fixed.

Not long after you arrive at this so called "Hazbin Hotel"..you didn't have much to say other than it...seemed fitting. You walk up a few flights of carpeted stairs. His hand calmly connected to yours. He continues down the long winding hallway before reaching a large wooden door at the end. He unlocks the room, and it is exactly what you'd imagine it to be. An embodiment of everything "angel dust".

A few hours and a pack of cigarettes later, the rain starts. The acid falls from the sky burning sinners and generally..most everything in its path. The sizzle on the sidewalk almost sounds like the crackle of a record player. Leaning further back into his bed, you pull out yet another cigarette. Your hand waves, gesturing towards the box and Angel takes the last of the pack. He lights the end of yours first and then clicks the lighter again in an attempt to get his own fix. However the lighter had other plans, it pops and ticks before sputtering out completely. He strikes it a few more times to no avail

"Shit what does a guy gotta do to get a decent lighter in this shit hole"

His arms raised above his head in some odd exaggerated performance of anger. Despite the lack of necessity, you found the fake drama to be amusing. It reminded you of Alastor in some strange way. It was different than the usual drama you found yourself viewing. Hell is full of overdramatic assholes, at least Angel isn't.. cruel. You take the first hit of your newly lit cigarette. The pink smoke fizzling into your lungs, giving you a sense of calm you cant really find anywhere else.

"What you aren't gonna share?" he deadpans before he presses the edge of his previously unlit cigarette to yours.

You look at him as if to say "Angel you dumb bitch that never actually works you're just going to put mine out and then we'll both be miserable"

He rolls his eyes with his signature smug look. He presses his cigarette a bit closer to your own. Shockingly it lit up in a hot pink flame.

"Working with Val sucks but at least you learn a few useful things",

He deeply inhaled from his own newly lit cigarette, puffing the strawberry coloured smoke into your very clearly unamused face. Still. you couldn't help but laugh.. or you tried to anyway, not that it would have worked. You took another long delightful drag and sent the smoke his way. A fit of giggles ensued, at least on his part. You were just happy it worked and he didn't end up pissed off.

The action made you wonder, what if you weren't just meant to hurt others. perhaps you could light them up instead of burning them down. You sat there for about another hour, listening to Angel's sleep deprived rambles. It wasn't too much long after that your own exhaustion finally carried you safely into a well deserved slumber. It was peaceful, the most restful night you'd had since your fall into this desolate shit pit known as hell..For once you didn't "dream." You weren't haunted with his face. His shadow didn't suffocate you. The ghost of your past stayed simply that, a ghost.

The night passes swiftly. Almost as quickly as the stars had appeared they retreated deep into the hazy maroon sky and bright carmine clouds. The rain had stopped, somehow the damages caused weren't entirely discernible from the average look of things. It was then you heard radio static again.

Familiar and soothing, his gravelled voice broadcast to the denizens of hell.

"Good morning to all of you lovely listeners ! Today's broadcast is brought to you by hell's favourite sinner, what isn't to love about that little starlet. Tune on in dearest, I've been hearing so much about you."

the music started softly carried by the wind and into your ears. You felt intoxicated.

We'll meet again

Dont know where, dont know when

but I know we'll meet again some sunny day

Keep smiling through, just like you always do

til the blue skies drive the dark clouds far away

It was irrevocably, unmistakably unquestionably him.

Alastor, your Alastor.. was in hell. Not to mention an overlord (shocker there). Despite that fact, you were evidently on his mind. He was speaking to you and only you. There was nothing you could do to respond.

So you listened, to his voice, the instrumentation, the melody, everything. Maybe it would somehow bring you closer to him...

Unbeknownst to the both of you, you were no more than a few rooms apart, enjoying your stay at the Hazbin Hotel.

a/n: I SWEAR I PROMISE YOU, ANGEL, AND ALASTOR ARE GONNA WRECK THAT LITTLE FUCKERS SHIT, dw

[calciumdreams]

nothing to see here, just one normal law abiding citizen on the subway.

[ionosphere-relay]

decay/reconstruct

[nesperus]

part 2 of my hazbin redesigns: the spider

part 1

[whitherwanderer]

reflections.

rusty reforger + deliberate deadeye // sauced songstress + weary wanderer

[anotherbummer]

Hazbin Hotel + Reflections

[spotaus]

Finally did that doodle of Ec-4o!Dust!

My greyscale alcohol markers are dying so badly rn so the background looks rough, but also I do enjoy the more messy vibes lmao.

And... bonus wips my beloved!

[qrowscant]

writing, so here's a doodle. they swapped places

[lesbiradshaw]

raymond kara and manny hanging out all the time because they’re bffs…. tgm writers will pay for depriving me of yale halo and fritz bestfriendism on screen.

[slime-hoe]

I know it's early but I need lesbian huskerdust content.

Clarification I'm a baby dyke not some weird fetishy dude. Also I love the guys as they are I just am excited by the realization that they would make a cute butch/femme couple

Just idk something about imagining husk as a handsome woman makes me very flustered.

[quiltofstars]

The ρ Ophiuchi Cloud Complex hanging over the Roque de los Muchachos Observatory in La Palma, Spain // Omer Baram

[oscarwetnwilde]

James Wilby: Reflections on Maurice, 2019: discussion on his work in A Handful Of Dust and Alec Guinness.

[robertfettuccine]

Initial concepts for the Koboh Abyss (art by Gabriel Yeganyan)

Source

[thefirststarr]

SPACEMAS DAY 5 ✨🪐🌎☄️☀️🌕

Time to pull out one of my favourites! These stunning cosmic clouds have blossomed 1,300 light-years away in the fertile starfields of the constellation Cepheus. Known as the Iris Nebula, NGC 7023 is not the only nebula to evoke the imagery of flowers. Still, this deep telescopic image shows off the nebula’s range of colors and symmetries embedded in surrounding fields of interstellar dust. Within the Iris itself, dusty nebular material surrounds a hot, young star. The dominant color of the brighter reflection nebula is blue, characteristic of dust grains reflecting starlight. The central filaments of the reflection nebula glow with a faint reddish photoluminescence as some dust grains effectively convert the star's invisible ultraviolet radiation to visible red light.

Image Credit: Lorand Fenyes