#the new national gallery is a nice place

[whataperfectwasteoftime]

The Rift - Chapter Four

Pairing: Marcus Moreno x Marcus Acacius x Marcus Pike x f!Reader

Rating: Chapter is T, overall fic is E (18+ only, explicit smut)

Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings: ridiculous dialogue, pining between so many characters, unrealistic heroics technology used as plot contrivances

Summary: After the Heroics manage to close the Rift, trapping Marcus Acacius on the wrong side of time and space, the group enlists Marcus Moreno for help. The leader of the Heroics is still dealing with the fallout of the Rift, but he's fascinated by the unlikely visitor to their time... almost as much as he is interested in the FBI Agent who called him.

A/N: LOOK AT OUR LITTLE GUYS GO!!!! They're settling in nicely to their routine of talking late into the night ;)

Masterlist | Chapter Three | Next chapter>>

(Moreno)

Closing the Rift hadn’t solved all of Marcus’s problems, but then again, he should never have expected it to. Sure, the White House was much happier now that a giant crack in space was no longer glowing ominously just a few steps from the White House lawn, but the general public seemed to take any excuse to take to the streets. When the Rift had appeared, groups protested Heroics’ control of the area, despite Marcus’s repeated comments about being concerned with public safety and the general wellbeing of space and time in general. Now, predictably, people are angry that the Rift had been closed with little-to-no exploration of the phenomenon. And he gets it, really, he does. But his first priority had to be the safety of the city, not to mention the department’s accountability to the US Government. The powers that be had said “Shut the portal,” and Marcus wasn’t in any place to disobey direct orders.

He pinches the bridge of his nose again, pushing up the thick frames of his glasses as he does so, and glances at the muted plasma screen in the corner of his office. The news has been showing footage of the protests for hours now, and Marcus watches glumly as the camera zooms in on a hastily-written posterboard that reads “I WANTED TO SEE WHAT WAS IN THE LIBRARY OF ALEXANDRIA.”

His intercom buzzes, and Marcus angrily presses the ‘off’ button on the TV remote before answering, “Yes?” The metal stapler on his desk wobbles back and forth slightly, and the Heroic has to shake his head rapidly back and forth to force his powers back down to a low simmer.

“Someone from the FBI here to see you?”

Marcus’s stapler suddenly implodes on itself. Shit.

“Listen, will you National Security guys give it a rest?” he snaps irritably as the door opens. “We’ve got the situation under control. If I have any updates, I’ll contact you, but at the moment, consider no news is good news.”

The Agent looks surprised at the outburst. “I’m not from NSB,” he says slowly. 

“Which department is coming to yell at me, now?” Marcus deadpans.

“My name is Special Agent Pike, I’m with Art Crimes.”

“...Art Crimes?”

“And actually, I really need your help.”

“Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh, shit.” The Heroic paces back and forth in front of his desk taking in everything Agent Pike had just told him. This is what happens when you’re pulled in a million different directions. His own research department had been begging for access, the CIA was screaming at him every day about Homeland Security, and the fucking President called him personally to ask what he was doing to make the Rift go away.

This is how mistakes happen. Things get missed, people get hurt. He sinks, with defeat, into one of the chairs in front of his desk.

“This man, you said he’s at your apartment right now?”

“Not mine, no. My, uh… my friend’s. Actually, more of a consultant. Yeah, a consultant. She’s a curator at the National Gallery of Art,” Pike says, as if this explains everything. 

“Why involve this other person? This… museum employee?”

“I mean, she’s an expert,” the Agent says vehemently. “She’s a classical Archaeologist, was helping us with some smuggled artifacts relating to the Rift… Anyway, she’s brilliant, and I knew she’d be able to help, and sure enough, she’s speaking Latin like it’s a normal, everyday thing to do and teaching this guy English.”

“How long did you say this man has been in your custody?” Marcus asks.

“About eight hours.”

Marcus studies the Agent. He feels like being a public servant has beaten him down over the years, turning the once-optimistic superhero who wanted to save the world into the jaded, tired old man he is now. Agent Pike’s demeanor seems to indicate that he’d somehow escaped the gradual decline into pessimism. No, this was a man who loved his job wholeheartedly, and it showed. The fire in his eyes was galvanizing… and beautiful.

The Heroic stands abruptly. “I want to see him.”

(Pike)

Marcus hesitantly taps on your door, having no idea what to expect on the other side. 

Even still, when the tall, broad man who was formerly dressed in full Roman regalia and is now wearing a faded Bryn Mawr hoodie and pajama pants and holding a box of Cinnamon Toast Crunch answers the door, Marcus is struck dumb. 

“Hello!” the man announces seriously.

“Hey! Sorry. We’ve been practicing.” your face pops up near his elbow, giving Marcus a little wave.

“How are you today! I am fine, how are you!” the man at the door bellows loudly.

“What the…” Marcus Moreno mutters under his breath. 

“My. Name. Is. Marcus. Acacius,” Marcus Acacius says haltingly. 

“That’s his last name!” you pipe up with a giddy smile. “He is a general in the Emperor’s army.”

“See-ree-all,” Marcus Acacius says, holding up the box before grabbing another handful of his snack. 

“That’s a tough word,” you shrug. 

“You’re feeding a Roman general processed sugar from a box,” Marcus Pike says flatly.

“I’m sorry, I’m single-handedly teaching a Roman man how to speak modern English and you are criticizing my choice of food?”

“His name is Marcus?” the Hero asks skeptically. 

“Yep,” you chirp brightly. “Marcus, meet Marcus. And you’ve already met Marcus. Hi Marcus, I don’t believe we’ve been introduced.” You hold out your hand for the newcomer to shake. 

“This is chaos,” Marcus says as he takes your hand. 

The General also offers his hand. “Hello, how are you today! I am fine, how are you!”

“I’ve barely been gone two hours,” Marcus says with a disbelieving laugh. “And he’s speaking full sentences.”

“Tee-vee is magic,” the General tells him. “I also come here by magic.”

“Pretty much,” the Agent agrees with a chuckle. “You okay?” he asks, looking at you. 

“You showed up in the middle of the night with a man who happens to come from exactly the time of my expertise and area of study,” you say, leveling a finger at him. “I’m doing… amazing! Honestly, this is the most exciting day of my life.” Sobering, you glance between your new pupil and the leader of the Heroics. “What about him? Will he be able to return home?”

“Home,” Marcus Acacius nods enthusiastically. “To Roma.”

Marcus Pike looks at the hero with discerning eyes. He can see the lines on his face, the worry etched on his forehead. A man who’s in over his head, struggling to stay afloat as the pressure threatens to pull him under. He knows that feeling well. 

The man shakes his head sadly, looking pained.

“No?” the Roman asks. “No Roma?”

“I… I don’t know,” the hero admits. 

“Nescio,” you translate, and the man looks troubled. 

The Hero glances over at Marcus, and something in his return gaze seems to spur him into action. “No, hang on,” Moreno adds. “The Heroics caused this mess. The Heroics will fix it. I’ll see to it.” 

“How will I get in touch with you?” Marcus asks as he turns for the door. Moreno pauses, and looks back. “Let me give you my direct line, okay?” 

Wordlessly, Marcus hands him his phone and watches as the man taps in his number and hands it back. He presses the ‘Call’ button, and the Hero’s own phone dings in his pocket before Marcus cancels the call. 

“Now you’ve got mine, too.”

The Heroic flushes slightly, and nods. “I’ll be in touch. Marcus. And uh, Marcus.” He nods perfunctorily at the Roman general, and leaves. 

“That was weird,” you laugh, breaking the silence that had fallen over the apartment.

“What was?”

“It was like he had a crush on you or something,” you tell Marcus. 

He snorts. “I find that hard to believe.” 

“Why? You’ve a good-looking man.”

Marcus tries to ignore the way his heart aches at your words. “Sure,” he jokes.

“What? I’m serious.”

“He’s the leader of the Heroics. He could do better.” It’s meant to be another joke, but it comes out slightly more maudlin than intended. 

“That’s your protest? That he could do better? Hang on–Marcus, are you gay?”

“No!” The protest is far too loud. “I mean, I’ve dabbled. It’s not… y’know.”

“You should go for it,” you say, shrugging your shoulders in a way that’s meant to be nonchalant, but Marcus can see the strain behind your eyes with the effort of playing it cool. 

“That’s not who I’m interested in,” he says quietly. He forces himself to look directly into your eyes as he says this, despite the pounding in his heart. 

“Oh,” you whisper, your voice shaking slightly as you flash him a cautious, shy smile. 

“Quid est?”

The question cuts through the moment, and Marcus turns to see the General holding a souvenir snow globe of the Parthenon and looking very confused. 

“Your turn,” you tell Marcus with a laugh.

(Moreno)

It takes one week for the leader of the Heroics to call.

A few metal pens clink together in the sleek black canister on Marcus’s desk as he taps on the words ‘Agent Pike’ and puts the phone to his ear. 

“This is Pike,” comes the response at the other end of the call.

“Hi–” Marcus clears his throat. “Hi. It’s Marcus. Moreno.”

“I know.” He can hear the chuckle in the man’s voice. “I hope you’ve got good news.”

“Yes, and no,” Marcus admits. 

“Can I get the ‘yes’ first?” Agent Pike jokes. 

“My team thinks they can recreate the energy blast that created the Rift without causing a massive explosion or a uh… black hole that swallows the entire planet.”

“That sounds like a positive,” the Agent says optimistically.

“The bad news is that they don’t know how long it’s going to take to invent that kind of technology from scratch. But I’ve explained the situation and the urgency behind it and I’ve got people working ���round the clock to recreate the Rift and get Marcus Acacius back home.”

“That’s great,” the other man says cheerfully. In the background, he hears your voice cheering as well. “Sorry, I put it on speaker,” Marcus laughs. 

“How is the General, by the way?” he asks. 

“Oh, he’s fine. Learning more about modern life, has quite a few more words under his belt. We took him shopping for some new clothes the other day, that was… fun.” 

Marcus snorts, trying to imagine a person from two thousand years in the past attempting to navigate a modern mall. 

“And the two of you… you’re handling it? Keeping it quiet?”

“Oh, yeah. Haven’t told anyone else, obviously. We’ve been taking turns going to work, taking a few vacation days here and there, not raising any suspicions about our sudden odd behavior.”

“I appreciate it,” Marcus tells him sincerely. “Oh hey–I almost forgot. I have something for you. Bit of Heroics tech that might help you guys out.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Mmhmm. Can I stop by your colleague’s apartment later today to deliver it?” 

“Yeah, of course,” the Agent answers. “We’ll see you then.”

(You)

This might be the best week of your life. 

Hiding a fugitive Roman General in your apartment probably should be stressing you out, but instead you’re having the time of your life. 

The situation, by default, has forced you into close proximity with Special Agent Pike, a man you’ve longed to know as more than just an occasional colleague from the moment you met him. At a minimum, he’s at your place every evening as soon as he can get away from work without people asking questions, but there have been several days that the both of you had called off and spent the day together with your temporary houseguest.

And then there’s Marcus Acacius. 

A brilliant man, he’s done his best to adjust to his new surroundings. He certainly cut an intimidating figure dressed in full regalia on your doorstep at three in the morning, but even in his new wardrobe, he still manages to look just as commanding. He almost looks ‘normal’ standing in your kitchen, wearing khakis and a button-up and filling a glass of water from the tap, but there’s always a hint of otherworldliness about him that no amount of modern clothing can camouflage. 

His eyes are sharp and astute, and his gaze always seems to make the heat rise to your cheeks. His presence seems to fluster Marcus as well; you notice him trip over his words on occasion, and you swear you saw the man blush when he had to help button the General’s new shirt after your little shopping trip. 

If anything, having the two of them in your home feels… cozy. 

You almost wish it didn’t have to come to an end. 

A knock at the door startles you out of your reverie. 

“Take bets, is that the pizzas or the Heroic?” Marcus chuckles from his spot on the couch. 

“It’s the pizza,” you call out when you open the door to the intoxicating smell of cheese, bread, and garlic. As you’re paying the deliverer, however, the stairwell door opens and Marcus Moreno walks hesitantly toward you. 

“Is this a bad time?” he asks. “You guys look like you’re about to have dinner.”

“Of course not! We thought maybe you’d like to stay and have some, so we got extra.”

“I wouldn’t want to intrude…” he begins.

Hearing the exchange, Pike joins you at the door and beckons the man in with a little jerk of his head. “Don’t be silly. Come have dinner with us.”

Marcus Moreno hesitates for just a moment longer, and then shrugs. “Okay.”

After spending most of the week together, you, Marcus, and Marcus have settled into a dinner routine. You line up and open the pizza boxes as the Roman grabs a stack of plates from the cabinet and Marcus fills four glasses with ice and water and carries them to the table.

“Hello, how are you?” Marcus Acacius asks the Heroic politely.

“Hey,��� Moreno grins. “You look like you’re settling in.”

“I am very well,” the man answers. “Pizza is a very good food.”

The Hero laughs. “You’re right about that.” 

The four of you eat dinner in companionable silence. As usual, the General eats far more than anyone else, finishing off almost an entire pizza by himself. You can’t help but wonder about his life in Rome–what he does, what he eats, where he lives. You’ve tried to ask, but the language barrier forces your conversations to be short and simple. You wish you could talk to him, really talk. He must have some incredibly interesting things to say…

After dinner, you pour four glasses of wine. The Roman grins widely at you, flashing his teeth. “Vino, excellent,” and you smile back, ducking your head a little and subconsciously glancing over at Pike. You aren’t sure what you’re worried about–jealousy, maybe?–but the Agent nods fondly and raises his glass in a silent toast. 

“Let me show you what I brought,” the Heroic announces as the four of you sit in the living room. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a couple of devices that are slightly larger and thicker than cell phones, but not by much. 

“We actually developed these to speak to aliens back when we were dealing with that situation with the Throqans several years ago. They were indispensable in helping us communicate and deescalate what could have turned into some kind of intergalactic war,” Marcus Moreno explains, switching one of the devices on. “It wasn’t until after that we realized we could program it to translate human languages. I had someone add a new function just for you. Here, say something.” He holds the device up to Marcus Pike. 

“Uh… this is me, saying something.” 

Immediately, the device emits a string of perfect Latin. The General perks up, cocking his head to the side and examining the device intently. 

“These will translate anything you say in English into Latin, or vice versa,” Moreno says, and the words are again repeated back in Latin. “You want to try?” he asks, holding the device out to Marcus Acacius, who takes it carefully in one large hand and says something into it.

“So many times every day I say to myself, ‘This thing must be magic,’ and I find I must say it once again.”

You let out a little shriek of delight. Marcus Pike laughs joyfully and claps the Heroic on the shoulder. 

“This is incredible! Marcus, thank you,” he says, his hand still on the man’s shoulder. You don’t miss how the very tips of the Hero’s ears turn pink. 

“It’s the least I could do. They all come with earpieces, too, so you can each automatically hear translations of everything that’s said.” 

The Roman speaks into the translator again. “Do you also bring news of when I might return home?”

Marcus Moreno bites his lip. “I wish I could say I did, but I don’t. The technology is still only theoretical. We’ve been running tests, but so far, nothing has been successful.”

Acacius listens to the translation, nodding slowly and looking somewhat disappointed. Suddenly, though, he brightens, and speaks again. 

“Ah well, if there are more pizza dinners in my future, then so be it.”

[hellsburners]

soft release

summary: steven got a little rough with this one pairing: steven grant x male reader word count: 1.5k warnings: 18+ warning, s3x, top!steven, rough stuff, nods to comic steven, maybe ooc idk a/n: based on this request.

masterlist | more moon knight

His silence was deafening, all you could hear was the sound of the car speeding through the streets of London. His hands gripping the steering wheel so tight his knuckles turned white. Your hands were cold and clammy. 

You were on the way home from a gala with your partner, famous museum curator, Steven Grant of the National Art Gallery. The gala featured new historical findings from a site in Egypt funded by the Grant Foundation. 

There were at least fifty people in the museum. Everyone was clad in pristine clothing, gowns, and expensive suits drinking equally expensive champagne. You came as Steven’s partner, a surprise to a lot of his colleagues. He wore a dark pinstripe tuxedo with the brightest white tie, his shoes were polished so bright it shone under the moonlight. 

He made you wear a similarly luxurious midnight blue tuxedo that complemented his. He introduced you to the other curators in Europe. You tried not to get bored but it definitely was. Steven said he hated it himself. You anxiously downed a few glasses of champagne, which you eventually regretted.

He was still silent when you arrived at the manor, removing his coat and his tie. He looked at you with his sunken eyes, a glare you would only see from Marc but you knew it was still Steven. He licked his lips and let out a sigh.

“If this is about earlier—” you tried to say, but Steven pulled you into your shared bedroom, your back against the hardwood door. 

“Flirting with my co-workers, ‘Do you think that was nice of you, love?” he said, his face so close to yours you could feel his warm breath on your lips. His hand is above your shoulder.

You shook your head, speechless. “Don’t think so,” he pulled back and went onto the bed removing his silver cufflinks. “Come here,” he gestured to the bed, his voice deep and serious, like a general giving away orders. 

“I’m so sorry—” you uttered. He let out a few tsks before pulling his belt off. On the usual, it would be you who would be the more aggressive when it comes to stuff like this. You went to sit on the edge of your white king-sized bed, Steven looking down on you with shadows in his eyes. 

He caressed your cheek with his thumb, it was so warm against your skin. His thumb went to your lips as he bent down to kiss you. You let out a soft moan as his lips left yours. He smirked. “Can we play?” he asked. You nodded before he placed his tie around your eyes, it was soft against your nose bridge and your temples. 

Steven started to undress you, your shirt, your pants, your underwear. Before he laid you down he took the tie around your neck and wrapped it around your wrists and secured it with a knot. He gently placed you against the wide bedspread, your arms above your head. 

“I hated the way he looked at you, the way he touched your hand as he talked to you,” he whispered in your ear leaving wet kisses around your neck. You could feel the stubble prick your skin. “Is it fair, my love? To let me see all that?” he said. You shook your head before he spun you around so your face faced the sheets, your ass cold against the air. 

He smacked your rear with a loud clap, like a thunderstrike. A red print is left on your skin. He massaged it with a grip that grew tighter and tighter. You let out a cry from impact, tears forming in your eyes. Steven knew how much this might have shocked you, how it wasn’t really like him. But he saw the way that man looked at you, filled with so much lust and want, he wanted to hurt him. “Shit, I’m so sorry love was that too much?” he shakingly said. 

“No, it—it’s good I liked it,” you witnessed a new side to him, your sweet and soft-spoken boyfriend was now all rough with you. You felt your center turn and harden. Steven’s own hardness grew, the visual of you prone on the bed bound and blindfolded, he cursed. It was Marc’s idea. He heard him whisper it in the car. Do it, teach ‘em a lesson.

“You’re so naughty, what will I do without you, love?” he said as he undressed his trousers. He bent down to kiss your nape, you could feel his tip rub against your back, leaving a wet trail. He took some lube and prepared your hole, his big digits inserted in you opening you up. He left kisses against your ass, leaving a few bites. You wince from the slight pain. 

You hear a foil wrapper being opened and an elastic being stretched. “Can I be rough with you?” he said, you let out a whiny yes. He gently pressed into you, his hardness entering you. The two of you let out a loud groan, his hands gripping your waist. 

He proceeded to thrust into you with fervor, he let out loud needy noises. You could feel his fingers press into your hip bones, his skin slapping into yours through each thrust. You could feel the hard tip ram into your most sensitive spots. You cried out curses and his name. The bed started to creek and rock back and forth, your fingers dug into the soft sheets. 

The sheer amount of force he was letting out was enough to push you to the edge, you could feel your cock leak so much pleasure. Stop, he’s close, a voice whispered to Steven. He pulled out, you let out a sob from the loss of sensation. 

“Steven—babe,” you were a whimpering mess.

“Not yet pretty, ‘need to show you how mad I am right now,” he sulked before turning you over and placing hips between your legs. He started to press wet kisses around your torso, his tongue playing with one of your nipples. The lack of vision made your whole body feel much more sensitive. 

Your bound hands tried to touch his hair as he kissed you down to your leaking cock, he swiftly took your wrist and pinned them back above your head. He went to kiss around your neck, his hand going to your cock, he stroked it so fast, and with the precum, it was so slippering you were sure you’d finally cum. He stopped when your legs began to close, you let out another cry. 

“You’re leaking so much, love. No one can make you like this but us.” 

“I know—”

“Just the three of us for you. Is that not enough?”

“You’re m—more than enough.”

“So it won’t happen again?” he sounded like he was begging, pleading for you to only care for him. 

“Yes—”

The moment you gave out your answer he pressed his cock again to your hole and began to fuck you again. He was harder, it was stiff around your rear, but pleasurable sliding across your muscles. His hip bones clashed against your skin, wet sounds filled the room. Your eyes rolled back from the sensation, your legs trembling. 

The constant rubbing loosened the tie from your eyes, you saw Steven covered in sweat, glistening under the moonlight. His curly hair was all tousled and the veins in his hands were visible as it held your waist. He looked at you and noticed that you could finally see him. He placed a wanton kiss on your lips, it was lousy at best but filled with so much want. You placed your hands around his head and pulled him close. 

He untied you and your hands began to snake across his wide back. The feeling of his cock inside you was starting to make your head feel light, your eyes half-lidded and your toes curled. You were a moaning mess under him. 

He whispered that he was close. His thrusts became erratic but still hard. You asked if you could ride him and he obliged. You began to ride him as he sat on the edge of the bed. Your hips moved up and down, his hands clenched on your ass. The two of you shared one last kiss as he came inside you, your own cum shooting on your torsos. You felt the room darken as your eyes closed. 

You woke up to the room still dark, the moon shone on the window. You felt a cold wet towel on your rear. It was Steven, cleaning you up as he pressed soft kisses on the redness around your waist. 

“You’re awake,” he said, placing the wet towel on the basin near the bed stand. “‘Sorry if it was too much.”

“Marc got you into this?” you giggled. He nodded like a scolded puppy. You stroke his wet hair before you place a light kiss on his lips. “Cuddle me into bed then, my body is sore,” you said as he took out your softest blankets and covered your naked bodies. He peppered you with kisses before you went back into slumber. 

interactions are greatly appreciated btw if u liked this fic and want more send me a prompt and i'd gladly make something from it :>

[hlupdate]

W​​hat’s the secret to a great portrait? At 86 years old, David Hockney has a few ideas. A lifetime of looking has taught him to always start with the face. “I begin with the head first,” he says, matter-of-factly, from his home in France. “From there, I place everything else.”

That was his approach when, late last May, Harry Styles traveled to his light-filled studio in Normandy and stationed himself on a cane chair, ready to become the esteemed artist’s latest subject. Over two days, Hockney worked to capture the exact hues of red and yellow in Styles’s striped cardigan, the indigo of his jeans, the string of pearls at his neck—not to mention the unmistakable tousled fringe of one of the world’s biggest pop stars. For the artist, though, the goal was merely to capture the essence of the person in front of him. “I wasn’t really aware of his celebrity then,” Hockney says, with a shrug. “He was just another person who came to the studio.”

The pair struck up an instant rapport that was likely helped by Styles being a full-on fanboy. For his Vogue cover shoot in 2020, Styles wore a pair of hand-painted Bode cords that featured a talismanic illustration of Hockney by artist Aayushia Khowala. It’s also hard to imagine the wide-eyed wonder of a flamboyant Brit discovering the sunny thrills and spills of California—a theme, and sound, that has permeated the former One Direction singer’s solo albums—without Hockney as a precedent. “David Hockney has been reinventing the way we look at the world for decades,” says Styles. “It was a complete privilege to be painted by him.”

The unveiling of the portrait kicks off the second iteration of the National Portrait Gallery’s Hockney exhibition “Drawing From Life,” which first opened in February 2020, only to close weeks later due to the pandemic. With the addition of a new room of pictures charting Hockney’s creative impulses throughout lockdown, the show returns on November 2—a few months after a refurbishment of the entire museum—with Styles’s portrait as its crown jewel. “The whole world shut down, and the exhibition was still sitting there, in the dark,” recalls Sarah Howgate, the gallery’s senior curator of contemporary collections, who oversaw the exhibition in both phases. “So it’s nice to know it will have another life.”

The Styles painting may bring star wattage, but the unassuming genius of Hockney’s portraiture is still the main exhibition draw. What makes his images tick, you quickly learn, is their honesty: whether in the tension bubbling beneath the surface of his famed double portrait of Ossie Clark and Celia Birtwell, painted between 1970 and ’71, or the seated figures that populated his 2016 Royal Academy of Arts exhibition, which included the likes of his own sister, Margaret, and the late comedian Barry Humphries. Hockney’s eye for the human figure may be playful, often kaleidoscopic, sometimes fantastical—but it’s always, most importantly, frank.

Styles’s portrait will hang alongside those of writer Gregory Evans, Hockney’s printer Maurice Payne, the mayor of his local town Dozulé, his gardener, and even his chiropodist, or in Hockney’s words, “the dandy who cuts my toenails.”

One of his more recent subjects was the eminent music producer Clive Davis, who first suggested inviting Styles to swing by. “Clive told me about Harry’s new album, and JP [Hockney’s studio assistant] sent Harry a note and asked him if he’d like to come to my studio and sit for his portrait,” Hockney remembers. “He replied straight away and said, yes, he’d love to.” From there, Hockney’s process of painting Styles was instinctive. “Everybody just came to sit,” he says, breezily, before admitting: “Now I know Harry’s a celebrity, though: I’ve seen all his music videos.”

“He’s not a traditional portrait painter,” says Howgate. Hockney’s interest is not in what people do, but rather in who they are. “He’s not interested in fame. He’s interested in depicting people and their relationships.” It’s why his eye is primarily trained on his inner circle these days—but it also pays testament to his enduring curiosity that he’s still willing to open that up to a newcomer every so often. Styles seems to know how lucky he is, adding, with a tinge of disbelief: “I’m in awe of the man with enough one-liners for a lifetime.” As to what those one-liners might be? Styles and Hockney’s mutual silence on that question suggests that what happens in the studio, stays in the studio.

“David Hockney: Drawing From Life” will be at the National Portrait Gallery from November 2 to January 21, 2024.

[peachlicks79]

Before the Storm

Before The Storm

"This should be it. Thanks for coming with me, Lena." Kara held the door open for her friend as Lena slipped past, the crisp step of her high heels getting lost in the bar's happy hour noise, patrons yelling over the pumping base and lively karaoke. Kyrptonian eyes were bright as she peered at the bottles lining the walls like an alcoholic library. They were both here on prelude to business for tomorrow: Kara for an interview with the art gallery that was setting to open tomorrow curating works from all human and alien walks of life, and Lena taking a financial investment in an up and coming woman-owned business in the arts. Their meeting inspired a casual stakeout of the places around, and they had stuck to the bar beside the art gallery where Kara had done some research and found out the owners were friends and visited to support often.

"Of course, Kara. It's nice to have a night out sometimes." Red lipstick parted in a fond smile as the CEO took in her blonde friend sweeping by her and leading the way. It was always interesting seeing Kara in different situations in her reporter role. While Lena normally didn't frequent these types of establishments other than the monthly get-together with the Superfriends, it was an even rarer sight to see the Kryptonian around other aliens outside of her Supergirl role.

Victoria Chase had made a name for herself after the storm of Arcadia Bay, photographing the horrific event and raising money for the town's rebuild outside of her family name years ago. The incident had piqued Lena's interest, the adopted Luthor feeling the tell-tale call of bloodline and needing to make a name for herself outside of it garnering many a look at the art portfolio Victoria had taken to posting online. After five years and times of travel capturing more and more natural horrors, Victoria had stated in a press announcement she was looking to open up her own art gallery, away from her parents' Chase Space, with her partner, Max Caulfield in National City. Their motivation to do so was for inclusion of all, aliens and humans alike, to come together and share in expressions of art concerning global warming and other natural events that had taken away homes and towns and cities. A portion of their proceeds would go to charities, and further the awareness of supporting more green ecological steps and inclusive diversity.

Alien Amnesty had been put into place for the better part of three years, but Lena knew better than anyone a law passing would take time to cement itself socially. Noticing the ease of which Kara carried herself between the tables and people, Lena was grateful this establishment had succeeded in making aliens and humans alike comfortable. When Kara beckoned her over to a snagged table and three sets of double shot glasses in front of her, Lena made her way over and raised an amused eyebrow.

"Normally you're an eat first, drink later type." Her statement was met with a wide smile and sparkling blue eyes gently pushing the drink in front of her.

"You don't have to if you don't want, Lena," Kara started, then nodded up as she raised a toast to the ceiling. Lena's eye followed as Kara continued, holding her glass out for her friend to cheers against. "But there was a poster saying we would get a free appetizer if we ordered two drinks, and a free photo after five!!"

Polaroids draped down the pillars and sides of walls, and the ceiling was covered in stories. It looked like a community effort for interaction, and at that the dark-haired woman acquiesed to a quick clink against Kara's glass as she tipped her head back and took the offered drink. Warmth bloomed through her as she swallowed, her chest tightening as she watched Kara down hers, the blonde a mix between business and casual as she slapped her palms down on the table, letting out little taps against the hardwood.

"Whooo, that's new!!" Tilting her head, Lena couldn't help but laugh, Kara's outburst louder than the crackbreak of the pool balls behind their shared space.

"What is?" Kara fanned herself slightly, crossing her legs and bumping Lena's a bit as she repositioned herself. She had taken to wearing more pants as of late, explaining that she enjoyed her costume's suit better with coverage, and it reflected nicely of the fall weather. The blonde may be indestructible, but sensation was sensation and Lena knew better than most the effect of clothing and how it could be worn as an armored aesthetic.

"They serve alien drinks here. Wierdly enough, it tastes better than where we normally go."

"Are you sure you don't want to stick to human alcohol where it won't affect you so you can get more free potstickers?" Lena teased, leaning back and enjoying the relative ease the drink brought her. Kara gasped, mock glaring.

"How did you know my plan? And what if I wanted something else?" Lena threw up a hand in a motion that excused her friend's sentence and laughed. "Darling, I know you better than that."

Blue eyes blinked slowly at her, and Kara's smile deepened as she leaned forwards. Not for the first time Lena's eyes dipped to those pink lips, then blinked to take in all of Kara downing another drink. It had been a fairly hectic week with Alex and J'onn running Supergirl into multiple mob jobs, National City thugs scurrying under the last covers of summer parties and illegal rings where out of towners had taken to coming to. It wasn't anything outside of the ordinary, but Kara had confessed to Lena she preferred the direct fights of alien tussles where she didn't have to hold back as much to hurt anyone. There hadn't been a lot of down time as of late for a one on one get-together, and Kara seemed determined to catch up now since the season was changing and the last they had been out had been near the start of the summer. Lena didn't miss the assassination attempts as more and more time passed and the city understood she had a good communication with Supergirl, but the CEO refused to admit she looked forwards to the blonde superhero always arriving in the nick of time. Damn her and her masochistic streak.

Around them the place burst into a roar of excitement, and Lena blinked. Both her and Kara looked back at the open door where a pair of women had come in, and one was currently in a headlock by a tattooed punk who popped up from out behind the bar. The shorter brunette was laughing, freckles highlighted by the heat of the sun, and in a smooth motion stepped away and a shutter clicked from a polaroid camera. The print captured just in time as the pixie-cut blonde stepped forwards and hooked a leg behind the knee of the lean woman, effectively sweeping the blue-haired punk off her feet and nonchalantly tipping her back onto the floor in a move that would do Alex Danvers proud. Before a real scuffle could begin, a flash of red flannel had settled between the two women and Kara and Lena looked on with interest when another woman with a feathered earring playfully flicked both of them on the nose.

"Cut it out, Chlo, and really, Victoria? Couldn't you and Max have visited any earlier?"

A snort came from the taller blonde, elegantly righting her hair as she took the shorter brunette woman's hand in hers and walked deeper into the bar, where patrons nodded happily to the newcomers and raised hands for high fives.

"Tell that to this one over here. . . she really Maxed out her excuses with the jetlag from France."

"Tori!! You said we wouldn't kiss and tell."

"Oh, so it's YOU I should be grilling, Mad Max!! Not surprised, only disgusted. C'mon, I found a song that suits you both to a T."

Kara and Lena turned back to each other and laughed, a little surprised and both delighted. Victoria Chase and Max Caulfield had touched down in the area, and they were privy to a slightly hectic reunion with their friends. Kara recognized Chloe Price as the punk tattooed owner from the research she had done, and it was a bit of a shock to Lena as she recognized Rachel Amber, if only from her guilty pleasure of watching old campy horror movies in her rare spare time. The Oregonian actress was soon to shoot a movie, little else was known about it. While they watched the four set up by the karaoke where Chloe nodded to the host, Kara and Lena received their three free orders of potstickers and both asked for a different dish on the menu, plus Lena another drink. She'd asked a bit earlier, and Kara had told her she really only ordered 3 alien shots and normal alcohol. Their bar food was turning out to be quite delicious, and Lena noticed Kara was turning a bit red as she looked at her, finishing off the third of the doubles she had gotten.

Behind them, Chloe Price had picked up the mic and was mimicking playing an electric guitar while whipping the cord around in circle as she jammed. Kara and Lena could see the mischievous glint to her as she herded her two friends and partner into a round table and the bar started thumping as aliens and humans alike cheered -- how did Lena just now figure out this was a gay bar?

"To a happy belated birthday to Queen Bee of Blackwell, long may it suck ass so we can forget the fucking horrors there -- to Sticky!! Icky!! Vicki!!"

The crowd went wild. Kara and Lena laughed along with them as the blonde prepared to lunge towards the cocky punk, and they both watched as Max yelled too as Rachel cheered and easily tipped Victoria back into her seat. Charisma flowed out of Chloe as the beat hit, and suddenly Chloe was singing as she mobbed the mic and took over the karaoke floor.

"I don't want a girl who gets a car for her Sweet 16 Or spends a stack of dollar bills on a limousine--"

Kara spit-takes into the air and gapes while Lena freezes.

"I want a girl who takes a bus and who wears baggy jeans--"

Their eyes meet and Lena's eyes hammer. Those words slam into her and she remembers the early first times of meeting Kara, where she had told her she'd flown there, on a bus, after not needing her parking ticket validated. God, her attraction to the blonde had been so very obvious in hindsight. Kara had stood for someone who understood in the first moments of meeting her, and Lena remembered how much it had hurt when the truth had come to fruition. They had slowly pieced it back together, but damn, had it been hard, and she had ached, ached to see how much of Kara she had missed after that reveal.

"Rockin' Nike Airs, what the hell are Louboutins?!"

The kryptonian watched with wide eyes as Victoria Chase kicked off her a sneaker and it hit the upside of Chloe's head. The punk just laughed and continued to skip around, showmanship kicked into high gear as she hit energetic beat after energetic beat.

"Don't want no fake tan, short skirt, Daddy's money don't work!! Shop until you drop on the toooown~!!"

Lena flushed hard as she watched Kara's gaze snap to hers, then down, almost helplessly sliding down her legs before the blonde looked up, guiltily wide-eyed. In the background Max was keeping Victoria from strangling Chloe, laughing a bit herself, and Rachel was getting up, slinking to join her loud girlfriend.

"I want a girl stronger than her father Someone who will laugh at tryna fit in the crowd~"

Kara's eyes are seeming to be an apraisal, and her fingers are grabbing for a potsticker. At this point the song is pointed and from what Lena knows of Victoria Chase, the photographer had been fairly successful in being everything that this song wasn't. Clearly Chloe was making fun, and as Victoria stopped promising violence, Lena watched as she saw Max gently kiss her, grabbing her polaroid camera and snapping a selfie of the four as Chloe pulled Rachel firmly to her side, where they started to sway, looking into her the actress's eyes.

"And all we used to dream about~ Is getting rich and getting out~"

They both watched as Rachel and Chloe touched their foreheads together, singing a beautiful symphony, and then Rachel pulled away to do a twirl, Chloe expertly pulling her close again and dipping her, then pulling her back up to grin at each other. Lena felt her heart clench, partly of her own history, but also because of Kara, who she could see watching her, seeing how she was taking the song. Somewhere deep inside, Lena felt a tie to this song, or at least to the chorus. What she wouldn't give for more time with Kara, especially after it had taken them so long to come back together. Her penthouse had only known happiness when Kara had been there, and it was slowly becoming something more than a place to cry as she pulled herself back together and out from her family's legacy.

"Move to the nicer part of town Where we'd have numbers on our house It took awhile to figure out~"

The Oregonians were all smiling at each other, clearly having remembered the horrors of Arcadia Bay and knowing all of their relationships and friendships were stronger after it. Lena looked to Kara and found her steadfastly looking back, and suddenly Lena is reaching out, Kara's hands in hers, and they cheer to Chloe as she gallantly spins Rachel away from her back to her seat and resumes her birthday callout to Victoria.

"What type of girl that I'm about Who brings the real man out of me -- Rachel knows!!"

The crowd laughs at that, and Lena hears the tempo pick up again, Kara's hand firmly in her own even though the kyptonian is trembling.

"I don't really want no trust fund baby I like my women independent. And I say to people, that's my lady And we don't need nothing e~e~else"

The room was stifling hot, the crowd around them joining the singing. Kara was looking at Lena like she had so many times before, and Lena wondered how many times they had been down this road of calling it friendship while giving to each other everything past friendship and any sort of label. Lena recognized this was ridiculous, but as a businesswoman and a Luthor, she had been raised to stamp down anything that was short of exposing imperfection. Two double shots in wasn't anything near what she could take, but Lena blinked and was reminded, she was in a gay bar with her best friend and it had been upwards of three years since she had Kara in her life. Kara, who had seen her so broken at her worst, and had promised to always protect her. Kara, who even when they were at their fallout and Lena had desperately tried to hate, had not given up. The Luthor may be in her blood, but Lena wondered now what that meant when Kara and her were just women at a bar. Not a reporter and CEO, not a Super and a Luthor, but two best friends, and this song-- Chloe was outdoing herself.

"Don't want a girl who takes selfies, Want her makeup free!!"

This time it's Max that launches herself at Chloe, and the punk laughs as they both hit the floor, wheezing and continuing the song, pushing the photographer away by a palm at her forehead.

"Don't want no mean girl lady, let's call her Sticky Vicki!!"

Victoria has launched herself on top of the pile and Rachel shrugs and joins in. Lena wonders for a moment if there's a chance tomorrow will be cancelled, and that's what it takes to shake the moment. As Rachel yanks the mic from Chloe and yells,

"HER DADDY TOLD HER HOW TO FIX CARS, MAYBE SHE COULD FIX ME!!"

Lena and Kara pull away from each other as as a couple more of Chloe and Rachel's employees head to the front, good-naturedly pulling them off of each other, and Lena thinks this is enough. It's enough that she's here in this moment with Kara, watching women who have built a life from scratch with efforts and the bonds of friendship and love, and she tilts her chin, wobbling a bit as she leaves money on the table and in an instant Kara is at her side, sliding the money back into her purse as she supports Lena's elbow. Kara leaves her own money on the table and they make their way out, giggling as they hear,

"Wanna girl with common sense Who's dripping in confidence DON'T WANNA DIE TO GET RICH BUT SHE LOVE FIFTY CENT!!--"

The shrieking laughing of karaoke dies out the moment they hit outside, and Kara pulls Lena to her front as she slips into a back alleyway beside the bar, Lena tucking into her front as she registers the DING~ of the bicycle's bell as it zooms by. It's not that late by any means, but there is a chill in the air as the breeze picks up around them. The slit in the length of her dress gives Lena some reprieve for how hot it was inside, and she heats up again when Kara unconsciously nuzzles a kiss to her forehead. The alleyways are the only shadowy part of the city's street, illuminated up by the full moon, and before Lena knows it, Kara is asking her a question.

"Do you trust me?"

She's nodding instinctively. It's Kara. The blonde had grabbed her jacket and she used that to tug around Lena, enveloping her in a blanket of warmth and the scent of her best friend. Lena's heart rate ratcheted up, not used to the easy way Kara seemed to hold her close. It had been a while since Kara had told her she was Supergirl, and while they'd hugged, Lena hadn't been in Supergirl's arms since before she had known. That changed now as Kara smiled at her, then gently pulled her into a bridal carry. Lena yelped, burying her face in Kara's neck in embarrassment.

"Shhh, I've got you."

"Kara, I can WALK!!"

"Mmmn, I like my women independent."

Lena pulled back to smack Kara playfully on her arm, then shrieked and held herself back close again. They were in the air, above the tree and cityline, and the moon was full and beautiful and so very big. It illuminated Kara's face as she continued to smile at her, and Lena couldn't understand how anyone could be so beautiful and kind and out of this world -- because Kara was.

"I didn't expect tonight to go how it did." Kara's voice was soft, and she was still looking at Lena, direct and open and with a look that Lena had seen before. Had seen so many times before, and she knew she had mirrored, whether they were alone or not. She mirrored it now, leaning into Kara's shoulder and taking solace in the solidness she knew Kara Danvers was. To her surprise, she could hear the kryptonian's heartbeat, and it was a speeding stutter.

"How did you expect tonight to go?"

In the silence that followed, Lena watched as Kara slowly pulled both of them steadily higher, away from the ground and the city, felt Kara's heartbeat start to speed even faster as Lena used the privacy of the moment to place her palm over Kara's pounding chest. The moon was so different to look at like this, a quiet observer of the earth as it reached out endlessly to touch everything with its light. Lena looked at Kara then, really looked at her as she had before Kara was a friend, before she had to hide her interest with respectable friendship. Kara's pupils were wide, and Lena felt supported in more ways than just the physical as she was shown the world as Kara saw it.

"I expected karaoke to shake you up even more than it did."

Lena let out a laugh, and Kara tilted her head to the side.

"Darling, I've heard Roxanne."

Kara snorted.

Then, a beat.

"I have a song for you, I'd like to share. If it's okay."

Lena could feel Kara's breath on her, a little shaky, and she smiled. Shifting a bit, Lena paused.

"Only if you let me step on you."

Kara's whole body flushed.

"Wh-What?"

The CEO couldn't help the fond smile she had for the reporter. Repositioning herself, Lena righted herself and stepped on Kara's feet, so now they were face to face. Even with the slight breeze around them, she felt safe and warm, Kara's body heat actively ramped up around her. The blonde's cheeks were red, and she shakily grinned as she pulled out her phone, Lena's hands seeking to hold onto Kara's shoulders.

"First met her on the west side of Cali Only took one look and girl you had me"

Lena could feel the harsh tremble of steel as Kara wrapped an arm around her waist, eyes bright and open as she gazes at Lena. They're so high up above everything that they're the only one that exists, and the brunette forgets that once upon a time she's ever been afraid of heights. She had been afraid of a lot of things before Kara, and even due to Kara, but never of Kara. She doesn't recognize the song, but she leans into the warmth of the blonde, bravely listening to what Kara wants her to hear.

"Driving down the Hollywood Hills through the Valley Coastline and even cruising Malibu"

A rumble happens, and suddenly Lena is listening to the silky croon of Kara Danvers singing to her so high up in the air, in front of the full moon and glowing from a soft determination as she holds her.

"There's nothing like that shotgun view Arm out the window, surfing old school"

On a whim Lena lets go of Kara's shoulders and spreads her arms out. She's painfully thinking about the Titanic, but Kara smiles as she sings and the superhero does a slow twirl in the air with Lena, slowly reaching out with her own wingspan and supporting Lena's hands, gently pressing their palms together as their fingers intertwine. Lena is watching as Kara's pupils grow, her body radiating an intense heat, and she presses closer, smiling as she listens to the blonde serenade her.

"Sunflowers black and yellow all over you One hand on the wheel the other holding you"

She's on fire. Her own heart is beating hard in relation to Kara and it's Kara who's in front of her who has always been there, who has been her anchor and her wings and her happiness. Slowly the blonde trails her hands back over Lena's forearms, her elbows, her back, holding her close and slowly twirling them, and it's Lena who reaches up and gently slides her hands into Kara's hair, tangling through and gently taking the back of Kara's neck and holding her. It's so intimate, she's wanted this for so long, and Lena knows, she's always known.

"Took a shot and knew I couldn't miss When you lean if for that first~ slow~ kiss~"

The song continues as Lena's heart pounds, and she can feel Kara steadfastly holding her, will always hold her, and she leans in, letting herself stop as she slowly closes her eyes and trusts in the moment and in Kara Zor-El.

Kara leans in.

"This is the moment that I reminisce. No matter where we are I can't help but remember~"

The song continues on perfectly, and Lena sighs against Kara, tasting her smile and feeling the fullness of her heart finally share the peace of perfection. She's surrounded by Kara, and for once, Lena is enough, has always been enough.

"I know you were the one for me~"

It's sweet. The present moment is so sweet and Lena holds Kara close, batting her eyes open and looking into vibrant blue. Kara's face is split into the largest smile she's ever seen her wear, and she's so beautiful, and Lena tells her, tells her how grateful and thankful and how much Kara means to her, and Lena can feel the purity of this moment as Kara holds her close and they spend countless other more moments just like this.

- - -

The next day during the Chasefield Art Gallery meeting, Victoria Chase and Lena Luthor bond over the success they've fought for being trust fund babies.

- - -

A/N - Dear Lord, what have I done? XD I hadn't cackled like this in a long time for creation -- Melissa Benoist, absolute happy birthday, thank you for your service in acting, may you have a long and happy life ahead of you <3 PS Dear Lord I remember seeing her in person at a Rose City Comic Con so long ago and I almost punched the arm off of my friend I got way too excited hyperventilating XD Violence is never the answer XD

Songs are -

Trust Fund Baby - Why Don't We Sundress - Austin Mahone

[mr-styles]

When Harry Styles Met David Hockney: An Exclusive First Look At A Special New Portrait

A legendary painter and a pop lodestar? Sparks were inevitable. David Hockney and Harry Styles share a very special sitting with Liam Hess

W​​hat’s the secret to a great portrait? At 86 years old, David Hockney has a few ideas. A lifetime of looking has taught him to always start with the face. “I begin with the head first,” he says, matter-of-factly, from his home in France. “From there, I place everything else.”

That was his approach when, late last May, Harry Styles travelled to his light-filled studio in Normandy and stationed himself on a cane chair, ready to become the esteemed artist’s latest subject. Over two days, Hockney worked to capture the exact hues of red and yellow in Styles’s striped cardigan, the indigo of his jeans, the string of pearls at his neck – not to mention the unmistakable tousled fringe of one of the world’s biggest pop stars. For the artist, though, the goal was merely to capture the essence of the person in front of him. “I wasn’t really aware of his celebrity then,” Hockney says, with a shrug. “He was just another person who came to the studio.”

The pair struck up an instant rapport that was likely helped by Styles being a full-on fanboy. For his US Vogue cover shoot in 2020, Styles wore a pair of hand-painted Bode cords that featured a talismanic illustration of Hockney by artist Aayushia Khowala. It’s also hard to imagine the wide-eyed wonder of a flamboyant Brit discovering the sunny thrills and spills of California – a theme, and sound, that has permeated the former One Direction singer’s solo albums – without Hockney as a precedent. “David Hockney has been reinventing the way we look at the world for decades,” says Styles. “It was a complete privilege to be painted by him.”

The unveiling of the portrait kicks off the second iteration of the National Portrait Gallery’s Hockney exhibition Drawing From Life, which first opened in February 2020, only to close weeks later due to the pandemic. With the addition of a new room of pictures charting Hockney’s creative impulses throughout lockdown, the show returns on 2 November – a few months after a refurbishment of the entire museum – with Styles’s portrait as its crown jewel. “The whole world shut down, and the exhibition was still sitting there, in the dark,” recalls Sarah Howgate, the gallery’s senior curator of contemporary collections, who oversaw the exhibition in both phases. “So it’s nice to know it will have another life.”

The Styles painting may bring star wattage, but the unassuming genius of Hockney’s portraiture is still the main exhibition draw. What makes his images tick, you quickly learn, is their honesty: whether in the tension bubbling beneath the surface of his famed double portrait of Ossie Clark and Celia Birtwell, painted between 1970 and ’71, or the seated figures that populated his 2016 Royal Academy of Arts exhibition, which included the likes of his own sister, Margaret, and the late comedian Barry Humphries. Hockney’s eye for the human figure may be playful, often kaleidoscopic, sometimes fantastical – but it’s always, most importantly, frank.

Styles’s portrait will hang alongside those of writer Gregory Evans, Hockney’s printer Maurice Payne, the mayor of his local town Dozulé, his gardener and even his chiropodist, or in Hockney’s words, “the dandy who cuts my toenails�� .

One of his more recent subjects was the eminent music producer Clive Davis, who first suggested inviting Styles to swing by. “Clive told me about Harry’s new album, and JP [Hockney’s studio assistant] sent Harry a note and asked him if he’d like to come to my studio and sit for his portrait,” Hockney remembers. “He replied straight away and said, yes, he’d love to.” From there, Hockney’s process of painting Styles was instinctive. “Everybody just came to sit,” he says, breezily, before admitting: “Now I know Harry’s a celebrity, though: I’ve seen all his music videos.”

“He’s not a traditional portrait painter,” says Howgate. Hockney’s interest is not in what people do, but rather in who they are. “He’s not interested in fame. He’s interested in depicting people and their relationships.” It’s why his eye is primarily trained on his inner circle these days – but it also pays testament to his enduring curiosity that he’s still willing to open that up to a newcomer every so often. Styles seems to know how lucky he is, adding, with a tinge of disbelief: “I’m in awe of the man with enough one-liners for a lifetime.” As to what those one-liners might be? Styles and Hockney’s mutual silence on that question suggests that what happens in the studio, stays in the studio.

via vogue.co.uk

[thestylesindependent]

W​​hat’s the secret to a great portrait? At 86 years old, David Hockney has a few ideas. A lifetime of looking has taught him to always start with the face. “I begin with the head first,” he says, matter-of-factly, from his home in France. “From there, I place everything else.”

That was his approach when, late last May, Harry Styles travelled to his light-filled studio in Normandy and stationed himself on a cane chair, ready to become the esteemed artist’s latest subject. Over two days, Hockney worked to capture the exact hues of red and yellow in Styles’s striped cardigan, the indigo of his jeans, the string of pearls at his neck – not to mention the unmistakable tousled fringe of one of the world’s biggest pop stars. For the artist, though, the goal was merely to capture the essence of the person in front of him. “I wasn’t really aware of his celebrity then,” Hockney says, with a shrug. “He was just another person who came to the studio.”

The pair struck up an instant rapport that was likely helped by Styles being a full-on fanboy. For his US Vogue cover shoot in 2020, Styles wore a pair of hand-painted Bode cords that featured a talismanic illustration of Hockney by artist Aayushia Khowala. It’s also hard to imagine the wide-eyed wonder of a flamboyant Brit discovering the sunny thrills and spills of California – a theme, and sound, that has permeated the former One Direction singer’s solo albums – without Hockney as a precedent. “David Hockney has been reinventing the way we look at the world for decades,” says Styles. “It was a complete privilege to be painted by him.”

The unveiling of the portrait kicks off the second iteration of the National Portrait Gallery’s Hockney exhibition Drawing From Life, which first opened in February 2020, only to close weeks later due to the pandemic. With the addition of a new room of pictures charting Hockney’s creative impulses throughout lockdown, the show returns on 2 November – a few months after a refurbishment of the entire museum – with Styles’s portrait as its crown jewel. “The whole world shut down, and the exhibition was still sitting there, in the dark,” recalls Sarah Howgate, the gallery’s senior curator of contemporary collections, who oversaw the exhibition in both phases. “So it’s nice to know it will have another life.”

The Styles painting may bring star wattage, but the unassuming genius of Hockney’s portraiture is still the main exhibition draw. What makes his images tick, you quickly learn, is their honesty: whether in the tension bubbling beneath the surface of his famed double portrait of Ossie Clark and Celia Birtwell, painted between 1970 and ’71, or the seated figures that populated his 2016 Royal Academy of Arts exhibition, which included the likes of his own sister, Margaret, and the late comedian Barry Humphries. Hockney’s eye for the human figure may be playful, often kaleidoscopic, sometimes fantastical – but it’s always, most importantly, frank.

Styles’s portrait will hang alongside those of writer Gregory Evans, Hockney’s printer Maurice Payne, the mayor of his local town Dozulé, his gardener and even his chiropodist, or in Hockney’s words, “the dandy who cuts my toenails” .

One of his more recent subjects was the eminent music producer Clive Davis, who first suggested inviting Styles to swing by. “Clive told me about Harry’s new album, and JP [Hockney’s studio assistant] sent Harry a note and asked him if he’d like to come to my studio and sit for his portrait,” Hockney remembers. “He replied straight away and said, yes, he’d love to.” From there, Hockney’s process of painting Styles was instinctive. “Everybody just came to sit,” he says, breezily, before admitting: “Now I know Harry’s a celebrity, though: I’ve seen all his music videos.”

“He’s not a traditional portrait painter,” says Howgate. Hockney’s interest is not in what people do, but rather in who they are. “He’s not interested in fame. He’s interested in depicting people and their relationships.” It’s why his eye is primarily trained on his inner circle these days – but it also pays testament to his enduring curiosity that he’s still willing to open that up to a newcomer every so often. Styles seems to know how lucky he is, adding, with a tinge of disbelief: “I’m in awe of the man with enough one-liners for a lifetime.” As to what those one-liners might be? Styles and Hockney’s mutual silence on that question suggests that what happens in the studio, stays in the studio.

David Hockney: Drawing From Life will be at the National Portrait Gallery from 2 November to 21 January 2024

[matthewschiavello]

I am really excited to share the news that my work 'under the sea' (which was a finalist in the 2023 Mullins Conceptual Photography prize), has been acquired the Skinner Collection, held at the Muswellbrook Art gallery. It is an honour knowing that my work resonated with Mr Skinner and saw a place in the Collection. Thank you all at the Mullins Conceptual Photography prize who saw something in my work and made me a finalist in this important national prize. . I also wanted to publicly thank two brilliant artists and amazing humans, without them this would not have happened. Charlotte Watson (whom I met when she was managing Tinning st Gallery), encouraged me to enter the Mullins Conceptual Photography prize, as she thought my work would be a really strong fit, and she even sent me the link to the submission! . The other artist and amazing human is Christine Georgiou, who has always been there with support and generously sharing technical knowledge. In particular Christine came over one evening and helped me greatly with some frustrating technical issues I was having when I first explored painting over photographic prints. Without Christine's generosity, I would not have made an earlier work, that then lead to 'under the sea'. . It is nice to reflect that my first acquisition of this kind, came about (in part) because of the thoughtfulness and generosity of other artists. Sharing this moment with Charlotte and Christine, fills my heart with joy. . For those that are interested, two versions of this work were made. Both unique through slight modifications in the actual print, and then the unique process of hand painting over the print. They are also both sized differently. One unique print was shown at an exhibition in Melbourne ( at off the kerb gallery) and the other is the focus of this post.

[theredwritingwitch]

Soulmate Fic- The Art of Stealing

Pairing: Marcus Pike x reader

Soulmate AU: People are not necessarily their soulmate’s soulmate; A tattoo of your soulmates initials shows up on your wrist.

Words:1.9 K

Warnings: DARK Marcus Pike, obsession, stalking

______________________________________________________________

The world had made a cruel trick on Marcus. He was a man who thrived to protect and love. He was meant for nothing but to be someone’s soulmate. Marcus had always been kind and caring, he wanted to do nothing but keep people safe and happy. Hungry? He’ll bring you food as you work late. Need to unwind? Let's have a late night movie marathon. Feeling uncertain about things? He can give you space. Marcus is what the world would be proud of as the perfect soulmate, but the world was not a nice place. Sometimes, no matter how great of a partner you were, you weren’t always the soulmate of your soulmate.

Marcus had found his match while at work, or so he thought, the three initials on his wrist led him to Teresa Robin Lisbon. Marcus was over the moon when he found her. He took her to late night movies, impromptu concerts, and even delivered her Chinese take out. When his promotion and impending move to DC came up, he assumed his soulmate would be on board. But Teresa hesitated and finally broke to him the news that he never even bothered to look for. The initials on Teresa’s wrist were not Marcus’. They were the initials of a coworker, someone Teresa wanted to start seeing. Marcus was crushed. He felt used, felt cheated. The man was drained as he watched the woman who was meant to be his soulmate move on to her soulmate.

Poor Marcus Pike was one of few people who seemed to have been mismatched, or even forgotten, by the matchmakers of the universe. The man who would do anything for his partner, had no one he was partnered to. 

The move to DC was needed for him, even the plastic surgery he had to have his former soulmate’s initials removed was extremely needed. His friends recommended it. Out of site, out of mind. But love was always on Marcus’ mind. Even if the world had forgotten to give him love, Marcus was still meant to love. 

`You weren’t meant to be his, but from the moment he saw you, he knew you were going to be no matter what.

The National Gallery of Art became a constant pit stop for Marcus. For work or for leisurely enjoyment, Marcus walked the halls of the gallery on many occasions. He knew the consultants, administrators, and technicians well. But Marcus also knew the artwork housed in the gallery as if he worked there himself. In a manner of speaking he did, as his job for the FBI took him to the expertise of the minds of the gallery often. It came as a surprise when he stumbled upon you. 

You were the newest recruit. A new hire to stay on board the gallery as a fine art restorer. You didn’t know he was there, too engrossed in your work of slowly whipping old grime off of a painting with q-tips. He watched you roll your neck and stretch your arms out after you had sat hunched over the painting for too long. Marcus wondered if you would apply a heating pad to your neck and shoulder once you got home. Maybe you took some pain relief on the long days. A hot bath?

Marcus came by the gallery several different times in a week for a case, gathering small glimpses of you. He liked that you wore comfy yet stylish clothes while you worked. He appreciated your taste in music as he overheard you singing softly to yourself when you grabbed lunch in the courtyard. He even loved how you dedicated yourself so wholly into restoring art. He could watch you for hours, obsessing over a dust covered corner of the art.

One friendly employee gave Marcus your first and last name. He thought it rolled beautifully off of his tongue and around his head. He even wondered what your middle name was, guessing he could find it in the employee logs of the museum. On an off day of work, Marcus couldn’t help but introduce himself to you.

“Do you prefer Chinese or Mexican?”

“What?” you stammered out as you straightened your back from leaning back in your chair.

Marcus smiled his charm at you, “Food? I notice you work late here and I do as well. I thought it would be nice to order some food for us late night workers?”

“Oh sure. Yeah that sounds wonderful actually.” You couldn't help but to smile back at the handsome man. “Either works for me.”

He nodded as he brought out his phone to order, “I’ll order both.”

After exchanging names, the two of you had a long conversation about art, traveling, work, and life in general. He wanted to know so much about your interests, your own art, your passion. Marcus in turn took your own set of questions and reciprocated your answers. You found out quickly he was single, new to DC but not as new as you, and rather an interesting and charming man for a government agent. You were actually a little sad when the dinner ended and you both had to get back to work. But it surprised you when Marcus showed up the next day, late in the evening, with more food and conversation. You were delighted to learn of his interests in music and movies, even excited when he asked if you would join him for a movie night at the local park. Maybe this was all quick for just meeting, but things really clicked with Marcus. 

The only thing holding you back was the initials on your own wrist. You peeked over and over again at Marcus’ wrist, but couldn’t see past the long sleeves of his shirt and coat. For a week, day after day, you would find Marcus around the gallery, and every time you would try your hardest to take a peek at his tattoo, unable to catch a glimpse. Your heart hammered in your chest every time he showed up with food or a simple hello. Even when he delivered new paint to you on your day off. You wanted to know if this perfect man was yours.

Marcus, for his part, was also curious about your initials, but it took him far less time to spy them out. Before he had even introduced himself, he had seen the initials on your wrist. Maybe that was what spurred him on in the first place. While you were stretching out your arm after working hunched over for so long, Marcus caught a clear glimpse of the initials MJP. Close, so close. Well close enough actually. Yes, Marcus’ middle name didn’t start with a J but that was an easy fix, especially when you worked in the government. For Marcus this was the only sign he needed to understand that you were meant for him. The two of you had to be soulmates. Life can be hard after all. It’s never a walk in the park to get what you want. Marcus always wanted a soulmate, and you have to work for what you want. Love was no different, Marcus simply had to make you his soulmate. That’s what the universe was telling him, he was sure of it.

It was a few weeks after first meeting each other that Marcus invited you to dinner and a show. You happily clung to his arm as he escorted you around the event, introducing you to friends and buying you food and drinks. He danced you around in circles, charming you into dreams of possibly doing this in your pajamas at home together. There was just one hitch in the dream you couldn’t get past. 

“Marcus, can we talk?” you regretted your words already, but it had to be asked.

For his part, Marcus held your hand as he looked worryingly into your eyes, “Something wrong, sweetheart?”

You hated yourself instantly, he was always concerned for you, always sweet with his worries and nicknames. If he wasn’t yours then it would break your heart.

“This night has been amazing,” Marcus smiled as he listened to you continue, “and every day with you has been so fun. I don’t know how to tell you how much these last weeks have meant to me and…I…” you stumbled over your words, a small cry clogging your throat.

Marcus leaned over and kissed your forehead, “I know. I get it. I’m a little afraid too.”

“It’s just that I have to know. I know it’s rude and I know that this will hurt so much if we don’t match but I have to know,” the words now tumbled out of you as the nerves nearly tumbled up from your belly.

The sweet man before you only smiled and brushed your worry lines away from your cheek, “I think we’ll be fine.”

“Really?”

“I’m positive.”

“So…you know already.”

“Not a 100%, but I feel good about this. Sometimes you just know when you have a good thing, and that it’s meant to be.” Marcus looked down at you with a positive and reassuring smile. “I think we’re meant to be. I just know it.” You smiled back.

“So we should see if we match then?”

“Count on three?”

“Ok. Three, two, one.” 

You and Marcus flashed both your naked wrists at each other, holding matching initials. You held out your MJP just as he held out the initials of your own name. You cheered and jumped the man with sheer happiness. You had finally found your soulmate.

Marcus had finally claimed a soulmate. He swirled you around in the air, kissing you over and over again. Flashes of the future spiraled through his head: moving in together, marrying, babies, growing old. He finally would have it, and he would give you all of it as well.

“You knew didn’t you?” you laughed as he sat you back down.

“I may have eagle eyed your wrist earlier,” Marcus gushed. “Just didn’t want to worry you about being perfect for each other. I wanted us to get together because we actually liked to be around each other, not just because we’re fated.” His eyes looked you over with concern again.

“You have the sweetest heart I know of any man, but you made me worried that we weren’t going to match at all!” you swatted your soulmate as he pulled you into his arms again.

“Well now you don’t have to worry any more.” Marcus smiled and kissed your head.

There wasn’t much for Marcus to worry about either. The tattoo equipment and supplies were long gone in the trash by now. His degree in art was newly polished as it came in handy for more than just work. The paperwork for his name change was locked and sealed away where no eyes would find it. And the potential for your lost soulmate, well Marcus wouldn’t call them a real soulmate as that was his job now, showing up in your life didn’t bother him at all. His years of training in the FBI gave him the right edge to take care of anything… unwanted or unneeded. You were taken after all. You were the soulmate that Marcus had been looking for for his entire life. The one the universe made for just him.

[lageografiademicamino]

UMK 2024 Song Review - Windows95man

The hype is very real around Uuden Musiikin Kilpailu (UMK), the Finnish national selection for Eurovision and the race to Malmö continues with another entry!

Windows95man - No Rules!

Windows95man is a shy family man from the Finnish capital area who's made a name for himself as multitalented entertainer. The man is a visual artist and a photographer plus owns his own gallery in Helsinki but is the best known aka Windows95man. It all started from Youtube but quickly grew to become famous as a DJ who wears cut off shorts (magic shorts according to him) and Windows95 t-shirt.

He represents the same liberated crazy spirit as Käärijä last year. He does a lot of things that are not seen suitable for a Finnish man of his age in style and in music and feels no shame of doing so! Good for him!

No Rules is his first song in which he collaborates with Henri Piispanen who delivers the vocals.

No rules is a throwback from the 90's which according to Windows95man influenced his musical style the most (as born in the mid 80's). Musically this is part of the eurodance genre and reminds many of E-Type.

Musically it holds all the necessary elements that a proper 90's banger needs and Piispanen impresses with his high notes (can he deliver live?). However, what is a strong point for No Rules can be also its death.

This is a nice, funny, catchy add to UMK24 selection but doesn't really meet the high quality of the previous songs, does it. This can be seen as a joke entry especially with the music video which reminds me a sketch on TV. Musically this can be quite irritating for many. It doesn't offer anything new and some listeners might tune off before the song has reached its 3-minute run.

Last year Portion Boys delivered a similar entry but still bringing their own musical value to the table. I just don't see No Rules doing the same despite of possibly becoming a guilty pleasure for some UMK fans. In Eurovision this is something what we could have sent a decade ago but now UMK as Eurovision has topped its game since. Wiwibloggs were on point with their a Nokia reference - it's nice to down a memory lane for a moment but would someone still buy one? No.

This is still a decent first single and I hope nothing but the best and love in the future!

What do you think of the fifth UMK24 track and would you vote for Windows95man to go all the way to Malmö? UMK final takes place on February 10th!

[mittensmorgul]

so today is my kid’s 23rd birthday, so we went down to dc to see the sights and take in a few museums (kid’s choice). this was probably our first mistake. it was over 100f out there today. meltin’ weather!

we went right for the air and space museum because we love that place, but it’s still having major renovations done and we didn’t realize you need a TIMED ADMISSION PASS to get in right now. they were all gone for today. so we didn’t go in.

so we went across the mall to the national gallery of art. which is also undergoing extensive renovations and it would’ve been nice to know the main entrance was closed before we hiked down there only to find we had to hike back to the opposite end of the massive building in the 100 degree heat. but we made it. i got to see dali’s sacrament of the last supper, hieronymus bosch’s death and the miser, assorted rembrandts, and the only painting by leonardo da vinci in north america. always fun! but we were hungry, and in our hunger half our group was confused about our plans. this led to miscommunication that led to half our group not realizing we’d gone for lunch. oops. eventually everyone ate, and we decided collectively to head toward the natural history museum.

the natural history museum was... really crowded. as expected. but it was also getting on everyone’s last nerves. so we decided to skip the american history museum and just start for home and relaxation.

so we hiked back to the metro, waited for the train, made it about halfway back when they started holding us for an extra two minutes at every stop. fine, weird, but not too bad yet.

and then we hit the Medical Center station between NIH and the Naval Hospital... i used to work there, and forgot how long that escalator is lol, but i got a refresher on it today. Because they stopped the train and were like OKAY EVERYONE OUT WE CAN’T GO ANY FURTHER BECAUSE THE TRACK IS ON FIRE AHEAD.

THE TRACK. WAS ON FIRE.

this is how hot it was today.

like you could smell the weird burning smell in the station tunnel. this led (with a full early rush-hour crowd on the train) to Mass Confusion. Wait why are we getting off here? Where do we go now? Apparently where we went was onto busses that ferried us two train stations further up the line where we could get on a train again.

And those busses were running through... DC rush hour traffic! which meant the two station jaunt that would’ve taken 5 minutes on the train took half an hour! but again, i got to see the old stomping grounds a bit, so annoying as it was, it wasn’t horrific.

We finally got off, found our car, and headed into the final leg of our journey home. Through rush hour traffic! And a thunderstorm that apparently knocked down some trees! and an accident that closed all but one lane on the expressway!

but at least it’s now 30 degrees cooler, and i’m finally home again. i didn’t even get a new picture of myself with my favorite giant ground sloth skeleton. :(

But i had a delicious quiche lorraine in the sculpture garden cafe and got a really superb photo of mr mittens eating a sandwich, so have that i guess :’D

hopefully i won’t have to leave the house at all tomorrow...

[koco-coko]

Ikemen Vampire OC: Elizabeth I

(Don't worry many more ocs are to come, but I thought I'd start with my most 'normal' as of now hehe.)

Also, I modified https://yanderepuck.tumblr.com/post/649268127267504128/free-to-use-character-sheet this for my use so yeah :) Anyways-!

Elizabeth Tudor (Bethy, Lizzie)

General Information

Full name: Elizabeth Tudor

Nickname: Bethy (close friends), Lizzie (acquaintances) 

Age: Unclear, but on the younger side of the mansion 

Nationality: English

Current place of living: The Mansion

Income: (… 'borrowing' Comte’s money) Works odd jobs around Paris, mostly at art galleries.

Birthday: 9/7

Likes: Paintings, theater, music, novels, etc.

Dislikes: Small spaces, inequality, coffee

Background: Former Queen of England, bringer of the Elizabethan Era, England's self-proclaimed Golden Age. Sassy and quick-witted, Bethy always has something to say about everyone and everything, critical or not. Despite her apparent vanity and tendency for self-praising, she’s incredibly generous. Elizabeth actually ends up running herself into debt from how much she ends up donating to art galleries and theaters. To be fair, she was royalty in her past life- She never had to worry about finances like she does now. Thankfully, Comte's 'willing' to deal with her habitual overspending.

Relationships:

Mary Tudor: For your own sake, never bring up her family. Especially her sister. Mary and Elizabeth got along once, but after a deep “falling out” over Mary’s… devotions, Elizabeth wants nothing to do with the Tudor name anymore. If Mary and Bethy are put in the same room, a loud argument is likely to break out in five minutes. (Oh no she's totally not another vampire oc of mine she totally won't show up totally not I'm definitely not making the three main Tudor children at all why would you even thinking that)

Though a few residents find it suspicious she talks about her sister like she’s still alive…

“Oh, there’s a reason she’s nicknamed Bloody Mary. She’s everything I stand against! Now, I’m not a very superstitious person, but… I’d rather not say her name more than twice… She was always sneaking up on me when we were younger…”

Napoleon Bonaparte: One of Elizabeth’s closest friends, being a fellow former ruler and both having eras named after themselves. They often get into heated debates, but it’s all in good fun. They could be yelling one moment, then out for lunch another. Napoleon is also one of the few who have ever seen the deeper side of Bethy, a simple woman who sits alone at night and overthinks far too often. Napoleon is really the only person in the mansion Elizabeth feels safe around, revealing her true thoughts and perception of herself to him. Still, that's only on rare occasion, but it's a start. (she is totally not mainly shipped with him I dont even know whyd you think that mhm yep totally not oc x canon here)

“Oh, please! Crepes again? Is that all you eat?”

“Says the tea fiend. I’m fairly certain you’re made of that drink.”

“At least it’s something dignified. Ugh, let’s just hurry up. I want to get a good seat at this new café, you know!”

“Hey– wait up!”

Vincent Van Gogh: These two became friends by accident. Bethy is friends with both Theodore and William, so they ended up near each other often. Vincent often acts as Elizabeth’s grounding beacon. Bethy tends to overthink and get stuck in her head, so eventually Vincent allowed her to view his paintings whenever she so pleased, whether he’s in the middle of a work or it’s the dead of night. They’ve yet to intentionally spend time with each other, it’s always accidental. That doesn’t stop the two from getting along, though, and Elizabeth is one of the first in line to buy him new paints or donate to the art gallery he’s a part of. She truly admires his work and would support him in any artistic endeavor. Though, William has caught a glint of jealousy in her eyes whenever Vincent and Theo are talking to each other every now and then.

“Hm? Oh, Bethy! Nice to see you. I’m almost finished with this piece.”

“Wow… It’s wonderful, Vincent! Every work of yours's just seems better than the last! Not to say those are any worse, of course. Where are you going to display it”

“Aw, thanks! This one’s just for my Broer. I thought I’d make him something nice. He’s been working so much lately… Bethy? Is something wrong?”

“... Not at all. It’s just… That’s sweet of you, Vincent. You’re a good older brother.”

Theodorus Van Gogh: Both frantic art enthusiasts, these two clicked instantly. Elizabeth was impressed by his dedication to the arts, Theodore was impressed by her’s. They go to art galleries together and tag along to his work when she can. He’s also one of the few that have seen her true side, but unlike Napoleon, neither Bethy or him get very personal about it. Both know the other is more to the other, and they just accept it. In truth, she’s actually a bit jealous of Theo for having such a good relationship with his older sibling. She’d never admit that, though.

“Didn’t expect to see you here, Hondje.”

“Hm. Well, hello to you, too, Theodorus. And for your information, I imagine myself more of a cat type. Cute and cuddly–”

“Horrible and vicious.”

“Aha, yes! Exactly!” 

William Shakespeare: Elizabeth’s best friend in the whole wide world forever and ever and ever and ever! Elizabeth is Shakespeare’s biggest supporter and defender, taking his side over anyone else’s in the blink of an eye. She goes to every one of his plays, donates to his theater weekly, proofreads all his work, and often helps him with costumes and props. There’s a 50/50 chance on any day that she’s at William’s villa instead of the mansion. They’re almost glued to each other, really. They’re so close that many nobles believe they are lovers, but both are entirely against the idea. 

“Me? Courting Will? Ha! You’ve got to be kidding me. That’s disgusting. I wouldn’t even wish that upon my worst enemy!”

“Oh, Bethy. Thy words cut sharp into the heart of mine.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m sure they do. Now, as I was saying, I believe there were some grammatical errors in Act 5...”

Le Comte: Despite their differences, Elizabeth and the Count get along incredibly well. Bethy spends many nights chatting with Le Comte and becomes a reoccurring partner to galas and balls. The main reason for this is because Elizabeth actually finds navigating and manipulating hedonistic life quite enjoyable. She also joins him so she can get in his good favors. He’s rich, and she often gets into debt… 

At night, Elizabeth can be found with Comte sometimes, drinking tea and speaking about the menial and the existential. She asks him the same question every night. “Why did you give me a contract?” 

At times, they’re two competent adults, and at others, they resemble a teenage daughter asking for dad’s money.

“Why did you give me a contract, Comte?”

“You ask me the same question every night… Do you regret signing it?”

“Not at all. In fact, I’m entirely grateful. I just don’t understand why.”

“Your name is in history, like every other lesser vampire here. Is that not sufficient?”

“... I don’t know.”

BONUS! Arthur Conan Doyle: Elizabeth beats him with her heels whenever he makes a move on her. I mean it. She will snatch her shoe off her own foot and give chase until the end of time if she has to, just to get some good swings to the head. (Theo cheers her on whenever he gets the chance to witness it)

Pet, Prince the Frog: When Elizabeth was first revived, it was raining. The first thing Bethy did after she realized she was alive was to run outside and feel the rain, screaming: “I’m alive! I have no idea how– I’m alive!” While she was out there, she found a frog. In her euphoric state, she found this amphibian life so fascinating, wondering if it could turn into a real prince with a kiss. Unfortunately it didn’t, but Elizabeth has kept him in a large flower vase in her room ever since. And yes, occasionally, she gives him a peck. It never works… but maybe one day…

Physical Characteristics

Addictions: If Bethy gets particularly stressed or upset about anything, she turns to her favorite sweetened teas. She drinks at least 3 cups every day, and when an stressful event occurs, it can easily jump up to 10 and above. Current record is 19.

Bad habits: Bethy bites her nails whenever she’s nervous. Also, whenever she’s mad at anyone, she discreetly starts chewing on her thumb nail specifically. (Elizabethan version of the middle finger).

Eye color: Bright green

Hair color: Hot pink

Skin color: Slightly tanned

Dialect: English, can slip into Old English if she’s upset or passionate about something (or around William in private.)

Drink often: Sweet tea and hot chocolate. Doesn’t find most alcohol appealing.

Good habits: Puts others over herself in almost every scenario, incredibly appreciative of people’s hard work

Height: 5’6”

Hobbies: Going to plays, concerts, art galleries. Window-shopping

Clothing style: Always tries to wear the best dresses she can. Usually wears bright pink, accented by black, and looks very regal (purely on accident). She dresses similarly to Shakespeare, combining the the 15th century clothing with a 19th century style.

Talents: With an incredibly sharp tongue, persuasion is one of her finest skills.

Mental Characteristics

Education: Highly educated for her time due to her status and is constantly spending time in the library so she can catch up with the times. She’s very encouraging to others who want to pursue an education as well (she buys hundreds of books for Jean).

Fears: That one day her sister will return, that she’ll be powerless to stop her. Has a minor case of claustrophobia. 

Life goals(next 5 years): For art and education to be enjoyed by the masses, rich and poor, male and female, etc.

Self-perception: Although she has strong convictions and acts like she belongs wherever she walks, it’s just a cover. Elizabeth struggles intensely with inferiority issues and imposter syndrome. Being called a bastard child from a young age, having to wait the longest to inherit the throne, and being a woman in general made her know what fighting for worth looked like. Now, with the contract and being surrounded by true masters of their craft, she has no real idea why she’s here. She’s no composer or poet, just a girl born slightly lucky. She’s simply an art patron, a member of the audience.  

Self-confidence: Elizabeth’s confidence is a constantly moving scale. She’s confident in her opinions, hardheaded to an end, but she doesn’t have much confidence in herself.

Assumed external perception: Upon first meeting Elizabeth, she can be seen as very self-centered and vain, talking about everything she’d done to improve the world and the latest fashion and makeup. However, overtime, it becomes clear that Bethy is a kind and giving person, putting others before herself so much that it almost gets frustrating. 

Rational or emotional: Emotional reaction, rational response. Elizabeth has strong convictions and is stubborn to a fault. Still, even at her worst, she can put together a good argument.

How could you upset this character: Easy. Mention her sister, brother, mother, or father (basically anything to do with her family) and you’re in for a bad time. For an even easier way, discriminate or insult anyone based on appearances, wealth, etc. 

Sleep habits: One of the lightest sleepers in the mansion. She wakes up at any small noise, making her incredibly drowsy in the morning.

Emotional Characteristics

Emotional strengths: Very empathetic and encouraging. She loves teasing, but knows when she oversteps and does everything she can to apologize whenever she’s unknowingly hurt someone.

Emotional weaknesses: Her convictions are quite strong, so any disagreement can turn into a screaming match with her. That doesn’t lessen her ability with words, but being so easily upset and red-faced can make her seem irrational to onlookers.

Introvert or extrovert? Extrovert. She loves talking and being with people.

How do they cope with:

…Anger: Tears, yelling… It's a surprise that steam isn’t coming out from her ears. It doesn’t take that much to get her upset. Usually to calm herself, she’ll lock herself away in her room and either: read, listen to music, or observe the many paintings in her room. A cup of tea always helps, too.

…Unhappiness: Elizabeth deals with it on the daily. She tries to spend as little time with her own thoughts as often as possible. She’s already prone to overthink– she doesn’t need sadness on top of that. She usually just tries to ignore the feelings and move on with her life, focusing on something else until the feelings go away.

…Rivalry: Oh, she thrives on rivalry. She does everything in her power to one-up Napoleon, after all. In reality, Napoleon is the only person she could ses as a “rival,” though it’s more like the relationship between Theo and Arthur.

…New situations: She loves new situations! She enters them with glee and a skip! 

…Trouble: She tries to talk her way out of most bad situations in a calm, composed way. She only uses violence if absolutely needed. If that happens, she’s watched Napoleon enough to know how to (kind of) handle a sword, though she’s equipped with a dagger whenever she goes into the city alone.

Meaning of life: To create and understand the world. Bethy believes life reflects art more than it does life, and that the act of creating is the most human thing a human (or vampire) can do. 

What would they change about themselves: Elizabeth sees herself as a supporting character. Although she’s ashamed of it, she secretly dreams for the spotlight to hit her one day. That doesn’t mean she wants to be thanked for any of the work she does, though.

What motivates them: Her need to prove herself, to do good in the world. She wants art and life to be enjoyed by all.

What scares them: Her sister, first and foremost. Next in line is people who aren’t open to discussion and changing their minds. Even hardheaded Elizabeth is willing to listen at times.

What makes them happy: Elizabeth usually attends art exhibitions alone due to the fact she can get lost in a painting for hours at a time. It’s rather embarrassing for her if someone notice’s the usually loud and bombastic Bethy staring at a painting like a child staring into a candy store. 

Are they often biased: Bethy will always take William's side, then the underdog’s over anyone else’s. 

Give or take? Give

Nice or rude? Rude

Pet peeves: She hates the smell of coffee with a passion. She asked for her bedroom to be farthest from the kitchen so she wouldn’t have to deal with the smell in the morning. She also tends to be easily annoyed by people who talk during plays or concerts.

Guilty pleasures: Bethy will indulge in teas any day of the week. Especially in the morning, when everyone is brewing coffee. 

Images:

(i don't draw so picrews are the best i can do until I can save enough for to be able to commission so...)

Yippee -insert autism creature here-

(Also @yanderepuck bc they said they were interested in reading the oc bio so um yeah)

As of posting this I've yet to make any masterposts but I will soon!!!! Eventually,,,

[slowdancingtorock]

Ireland - Day 23

First day working in Dublin, exciting stuff! I actually managed to escape the "day 1" curse and caught my train, found my way to the office and even got through introductions without anything awkward happening.

My new colleagues are super nice, especially the two French people I will be doing most of my work with. Today we accompanied a group of new arrivals from Italy to the national gallery for some cultural input. I still don't really "get" art and especially with my cold doing a big number on my eyes, nose and brain I really couldn't get much out of the trip but it really wasn't all that bad.

Afterwards we went back to the school and the students got into their classes. Because they are all adults here, we decided that for their break we should prepare some coffee and tea. This meant washing a lot of mugs and preparing a lot of hot water, which sounds kinda boring but we had a fun chat so it all worked out.

After we cleaned up we already were done for the day and I went to the office that handles my apartment to hand them my security deposit (as if this crappy place would justify that) and made sure they knew about the damages. Turns out they know! And they don't care (: Also my agency contact still hasn't replied nor does he have any idea what I'm actually doing xDD what a shit show.

After I got back to my place I finally properly met my 3 roommates. They are all very nice people and even gave me some gifts from their home country. I feel a little bad about not being the most sociable earlier but they assured me it's no issue. So that's a nice conclusion to the day :)

My song of the day is Of the Night by Bastille. It's a sad and melancholic cover of a cheerful song and I feel like it's quite fitting. While I try to be optimistic about things and while I am aware that things will get better, I feel like crap, this cold and my living situation really mess me up. But I am sure that I will come back to this song in it's original version once I find my way back to a more positive state of mind :)

[acewithapaintbrush]

You didn't share this ask game but I liked these Qs sooooo 👀

End of the year Asks

- Best month for you this year?

- What’re you excited about for next year?

For you, anything.

Best month for you this year?

That is so hard actually, this year was overall very very nice. Lots of good things happened, some annoying stuff of course too but mostly it was a nice year. Good things happened to friends and family and myself. I discovered lots of new stuff that I like, got back into writing, have drawn and painted a lot. Met wonderful people on this hellsite (*wink wink*). If I had to chose one month I would probably say May because that's when I went to Italy with my mother and brother and his family. Brother and family was *meh* but it was a dream come true for my mother who doesn't fly so thought she would never see Italy (the two day car drive was definitely... something) and everything went well, we had such good weather and lots of fun and I just love when everything goes according to plan. I had been a bit anxious before the vacation because I'm always anxious when I want everything to go well for others and I was so scared that something would go wrong and ruin this for my mother (covid, bad weather, bad hotel etc) but everything went well and I was so relieved. So yeah, I guess May.

What are you excited about for next year?

Definitely gonna revitalize my novel and give it another shot so very excited about that.

But to get back to traveling: I am definitely going on a vacation to London again next year! That's a must. I am a London freak, I've been about 6 times before covid hit, sometimes 2 weeks, sometimes only one day, but I love love love that city so freaking much and I have been feeling a strong sense of wanderlust for that place this past year. I neeeeeed to walk London streets again, visit Goldsboro Books and Foyles and Forbidden Planet and the Tower of London (Tower of London my beloved) and the Big Ben the National Gallery and just sit in a park and ride the London Underground and and and

So yeah, at least two weeks London. At least.

[returnofahsoka]

Hi Kam! Happy New Year :-) I found out the other day that I'm giving a paper at a conference this summer in Budapest. I apologise for reaching out like this, but you're the only person from Hungary I know, so I was wondering if you have any advice for someone who's never been to Budapest before. Is there anywhere you'd recommend going (especially for an archaeologist)? I'm not sure if I'll have time (or money) to travel outside the city, but I could possibly do a day trip. Sorry if this is a bother :-) - Em

hello and congrats to the conference!!

sorry it's taken me this long to answer but here we gooo

under readmore because it got long lmao

budapest is a truly great city for sightseeing and most things are within walking/reasonable public transport distance from each other so that's pretty cool

here are some sights i know are really worth checking out

buda vár (buda castle), the old royal castle on the hill, along with the mátyás templom (a church, i think it might be a basilica but i never learned the types of churches and at this point i'm too afraid to ask) and the halászbástya (fishermen's bastion)

idk i just love the sziklatemplom a lot (which is another church but it's inside a cave)

parliament (tbh i have never been inside but i guess it's pretty??)

dohány street synagouge (it's one of the biggest synagouges in the world i believe and it's just. gorgeous.)

városliget (a nice park)

hősök tere (heroes' square) that's like the most touristy place in budapest

idk what else. i'll look it up though until then

now for the archaeology part: museums!!

the hungarian national museum (includes archeological and more modern periods)

aquincum (the old roman town on which budapest was found) along with the budapest history museum (includes archaeology specifically within the city)

the museum of fine arts (fine arts + the ancient egyptian and antique collections)

museum of ethnography (it's opening in the summer so you might not be able to see this one, depending on the date of the conference)

the national gallery is also there (more paintings!)

things to do

walk around the city centre. i love it, especially in the spring/summer. just the streets and the houses and ahhhh i miss living there tbh

bathhouses!! they are super famous and also beautiful, i think one of them's been here since the turkish times

eat eat eat. hungarian food is lovely and very very homely. but there's street food and also sweets and like. they are all amazing. you gotta try them

other things to know

the airport bus is the best way to get to the city from the airport

you can buy a 24 hour or 72 hour public transport pass that lets you use everything within the city (including even boats)

day trips to other cities are pretty easy to do. trains are relatively cheap and the furthest you would have to go is like 3 hours i think?

we're part of the eu but our currency isn't euros. many stores accept them, and if you are paying by card then the currency isn't a problem anyway, but i'd recommend having some money bc you never know if the card reader is working/if they accept your foreign credit card/etc. our currency is huf (hungarian forint)

it's a 50/50 chance if the cashier in a store/restaurant will speak english or not. learn a couple basic phrases in hungarian just in case, and you're good to go (i'd be happy to help with that!)

if you are coming here in the summer, it's gonna be HOT. around 30 celsius at least. so be prepared for that

that's all for now, i'll let you know if i think of something else!!

[lizhengcn]

Gay trip in Caucasus countries

Georgia & Armenia, the Caucasus gay trip

Tbilisi, Georgia

For some personal reasons, I flied to Tbilisi from Shanghai on Mar. 10.

When I arrived at the immigration center of Georgia, the staff checked my passport more than 15 minutes than other passengers. I assumed that my photo on the new passport looks like an international the wanted offender.

I was allowed to enter Georgia after 20 minutes' passport check.

The airport pickup driver I booked online seemed impatient and didn't help me to unload my luggage when we arrived at my hotel.

The next evening I went to a chic restaurant called HOLY which is located in a chic area near their city center metro station Rustaveli.

Many local young chic people like hanging out here. If you'd like to see beautiful young local here is a good place to go.

I ordered a salad and main dish, with a bottled juice cost me 72 lari.

After the dinner, I went to 2 gay bars searched from Google. One is SUCCESS bar which is too small for me, I stayed there for 3 minutes and left. The other is called Cafe Gallery, they charged me 20 lari for ticket and it's around 1 am, only few guys came and I left at 1:30 pm.

So the first Saturday night in Tbilisi was boring except that I saw a guard guy in the next-door bar who is cute as hell.

Before I came to Tbilisi, I met a guy Ivan online who owns a real estate website in Georgia. We talked a lot through WhatsApp and I promised to treat him a dinner when I came to Georgia for his kindness of telling me so much useful info about Georgia.

The next day we met at a nice old-fashioned restaurant called Margalita which Ivan reserved. Ivan was born in Ukraine with a Portugal nationality. During the lunch, I found Ivan is a very nice guy with a warm heart. He tried to pay the bill but I insisted and he tipped the waiter when we left.

After lunch, Ivan suggested he'd show me around some nice places of Tbilisi. We went to the Stamba hotel bookstore, vake park, turtle lake on a mountain.

When we finished the day-trip, Ivan booked a taxi for me to my hotel.

I saw a basketball court near my hotel, so when I finished dinner I went to the court to play basketball with the local boys.

The boys on the court were so friendly and passionate to me. Everyone shook hands with me even they didn't speak English much.

There is a boy aged 20-30s who plays basketball so well with beautiful movements and is my dream type. He was so kind to pass the balls to me but I didn't play well that evening. The next day I brought him a bottle of water.

Ivan invited me to a local band live concert at cafe 1890 in the second Friday evening since my arrival.

During the concert I suggested we should go to a popular gay bar that I heard from a guy on Grindr. Ivan, his wife Olga and his employee Vlad and I went to the gay bar UNHOLY which was called BAR34 before.

We were a bit early and there were few guys in the bar. Best time is from 12am-3am at weekend nights.

When we were seated in a sofa, a white boy sat next to me. His name is Andrew and he's from Noway and in his master course in Greece.

We did have a great time there especially that Olga enjoyed dancing with me at the dance floor.

The next morning Andrew sent an e-mail to me saying "Did you suck my cock at the darkroom?".

What the fuck? I even didn't notice there was a darkroom for sex in the bar.

Andrew told me in another e-mail saying, you can suck 10 cocks in 30 minutes in the darkroom. Last night he sucked one cock and other 3 cocks nearby cum to his mouth, meanwhile he cum to a guy's mouth and face.

Maybe Andrew was there only for fun, not like me. I came to the bar to look for a boyfriend.

Apr. 4th, the weather was perfect, I felt so good in the morning and just wanna go out to chill.

My plan was to visit the gay friendly sulfur bathhouse called QUEEN bath. When I arrived at the bath address I found a cozy restaurant nearby. I decided to have a lunch and then I could stay in the bath for a whole afternoon.

I received a message from Grindr when I finished my lunch. The guy named George (80% Georgian boys called George) sent me both his face and nude pictures which I liked a lot. I invited him to join me to go the QUEEN bath together and he said he'll come in 30 mins.

George showed up after 30 mins and we came to the bathhouse together. I bought 2 tickets for us, the facility of the bathhouse is simple and crude but the sulfur spring is the same as the luxury baths nearby.

After the shower and 10 mins bath in the sulfur pool we went into the sauna together.

George has a hairy body and a beautiful cock.

I touched his cock and unwrapped his foreskin, his pink and beautiful glans showed up. My hands was shaking and my cock was hard as rock with the prostatic fluid coming out from my penis.

Yerevan, Armenia

Apr. 17 was a big day in my caucasus trip. A guy named Jack tapped me on Grindr and I tapped back. After a while he sent his nudes and it made me horny. I spent 2 hours walking and enjoying the street singers' performances on the North Avenue which is the most popular street in Yerevan. I tipped 15 dollars to each singer which are my favorites.

When I was back to my hotel I felt so horny because I hadn't wanked more than 3 weeks. I sent a message to Jack asking him if he'd like to be fucked. He said yes because his roommate wasn't home.

I took a taxi and arrived at his apartment within 15 minutes.

Jack opened the door and his cat Furla came to the door to welcome me. Jack is cute with a fit hairy body and seemed very sweet.

I was seated in the sofa and Furla jumped onto my legs. My cock had been hard since I came into Jack's apartment.

Before I tried to touch Jack's hairy arms, Jack kissed me while Furla was playing with us.

Jack led me to his bedroom and the light was soft. The atmosphere was sexy and romantic.

Jack took my tops off and I took off my pants, letting my hard penis out.

Jack kneeled down on his knees and began to suck my cock. His sucking was so comfortable and soft which I enjoyed very much. I touched his hair and his shoulders during his sucking.

Then we went to the bed, we cuddled and kissed each other. I was sucking his big cock and touching his beautiful hairy body and rimming his ass. He turned his pose from lying to a doggy style so that I could rim his ass more comfortably.

He passed me a condom and I wore it. Jack sat his ass on my hard cock and twisted his body on mine. It was amazing.

With Jack's body up and down on my cock, he cum onto my belly and moved his ass from my cock.

Then he lay in my arms, rimming my nipples, I masturbated to cum.

(to be continued)

#Georgia gay life#Tbilisi gay bar#Tbilisi gay sauna#Armenia gay life#Grindr hook up#Tbilisi gay bath#gay#gay travel#gay turist

Blaze

1 note

[maya-in-japan]

June 2-Shinjuku Gyoen/Museum of Modern Art

 Today, Sumaria and I visited Shinjuku Gyoden, the National Art Museum, and the Museum of Metropolitan Art at Ueno Park. Although I enjoyed going out today, I wasn’t able to do as much as I wanted since it was raining heavily for most of the day. At Shinjuku Gyoden, I wasn’t able to go through the whole park like I wanted since it was raining for the entire time Sumi and I were there. At first, we got breakfast at a cafe nearby the hotel. I got French toast and an orange blossom tea which were pretty good. I visited the greenhouse, Imperial rest house, and the Shinjuku Gyoden Museum during our time there. I really enjoyed the Imperial rest house and the museum. We weren’t allowed to take photos in the imperial rest house but it was cool looking through the house that the Naito family would use for themselves and guests as well. At the front of the house, there was a specially cultivated melon species that were grown in the garden, which had failed to grow over in the West. There were even two preserved pieces of that melon species in a jar at the front as well. The museum, mostly focused on the four seasons and what flowers were grown in the garden throughout the year. There were many cherry blossom varieties that were grown throughout the years in the garden. After leaving Shinjuku, Sumaria and I went to the National Art Center in Shibuya struggling against the rain. We didn’t visit any of the exhibits because they were a bit expensive to enter. We went to the Museum of Metropolitan Art at Ueno Park to see if we would have better luck there. Inside, we looked around one of the citizen galleries. I don’t believe that it had a specific theme, but it was interesting to see all of the artists featured in that gallery. 

     The reading that I chose for today was Japanese Modern and Contemporary Art: An Art-Historical Field by John Clark. The reading discusses two different concepts in Japanese modern art: “creativity vs. imitation” and “Gendering Bodies” (Clark 2018). The article also compares Japanese art to European art as well within the aforementioned concepts. I enjoyed how the article was able to delve deep into some of popular themes of Japanese modern art with examples of artists who were inspired by these themes and conveyed their message about it within their art. 

     I believe that I could relate the themes that Kunimoto explored to some of the art that was within the citizen’s gallery I went into. There were some paintings that betrayed the fragile nature that women are typically depicted as, which was a topic that Kunimoto focused on within her book of artists that conveyed this same concept. Although I enjoyed reading the article, I feel that it was lacking in featuring and explaining other themes of Japanese modern art. In the citizen’s gallery, I interpreted many of the paintings’ themes to be metamorphosis and various themes relating to nature and the changing of seasons as well. Although the change that comes with the four seasons seems to be a timeless theme that Japanese artists of all forms have used, the way it is interpreted through modern art was missing in this article. This lack made me curious as to why many of these artists chose to focus on this topic.  

     Reflecting back on today, I really enjoyed being able to explore some of the places that I wanted to visit. Although I may not have been able to stay as long as I wanted, I was still happy to have been able to go. It was also nice going to visit the modern art museum since the last time I had gone to an art museum was probably two years ago. So I was able to think of this experience as a relatively new one. I was also surprised to learn how museums charge an entrance fee for each exhibit. Although it may be a bit expensive depending on the exhibits one may visit, it is nice to see that Japanese people are so invested in seeing other people’s art that they are willing to pay to see multiple offerings within each of these galleries.