With a couple posed in a loving embrace, encircled by large pink hearts, a reference to the frivolity that characterizes French Rococo painting, Kerry James Marshall’s Study for Vignette meditates on beauty, love, romance, and harmony in the black experience. Learn more about the work.
maybe this time (cabaret) // buddie beware (anything goes) // hold on (the secret garden) // i want to go to hollywood (grand hotel) // a trip to the library (she loves me) // the ladies who lunch (company) // day by day (godspell) // always true to you in my fashion (kiss me kate) // i’m going back (bells are ringing) // he’s the wizard (the wiz) // muqin (thoroughly modern millie) // last midnight (into the woods) // days of plenty (little women) // a little less conversation (all shook up) // as we stumble along (the drowsy chaperone) // there are worse things i could do (grease) // calm (ordinary days) // ireland (legally blonde) // send in the clowns (a little night music) // like it was (merrily we roll along) // no time at all (pippin) // stepsister’s lament (cinderella)
So this was originally supposed to be two parts- I might do a third, though. We’ll just have to see ;)
Lorcan was, frankly, surprised he had been invited to Whitethorn’s bachelor party. He wasn’t even in the wedding party-he and Rowan hadn’t been THAT close in a long, long time, and he knew he had been invited out of common courtesy, since Aelin the bitch-queen hated his guts. He wasn’t too fond of her, either. Okay, he wasn’t fond of her at all.
Yet he-and Vaughan, Fenrys and Connall, who weren’t in the wedding party either- had been cordially invited to whatever the hell Rowan had planned. Lorcan, thankfully, hadn’t seen bridezilla or any of her tittering bridesmaids; undoubtedly because they were already doing whatever Aelin had planned for her bachelorette party. There were only two days until the wedding- it would be easy to avoid her for that long. Tomorrow, he’d rest up from the hangover he planned on procuring, and then only wish her congrats on her big day before he, hopefully, never saw her again. Or at least for a few years.
The men in Rowan’s wedding party were alright, he supposed- he knew Gavriel, of course, and the best man, his son Aedion. Chaol Westfall was a little pompous, but Lorcan would never see him again so that didn’t matter anyways, and Dorian Havilliard was sort of like a puppy dog, but calm enough that he wasn’t a problem. That didn’t mean Lorcan was having a good time, though. It was barely nine and he already wanted to get hammered enough to forget about the awkwardness in the atmosphere.
But at least the tension wasn’t between him and anyone else- at least, not yet.
"Any particular reason the witch didn’t get her ass up here, Dorian?“ Aedion drawled.
The raven haired man fixed him with a steely gaze, but Gavriel’s son didn’t back away, even at his father’s long suffering sigh, the sigh that used to be reserved for only Fenrys. "Manon," Dorian said pointedly. "Couldn’t make it. She sends an incredibly expensive wedding present, though, and we all know that will satisfy Aelin."
There were a few chuckles of agreement, but Lorcan was reeling at the name- a name Marion had spoken fondly of on the plane ride there. Shit- no. He was just thinking this up because he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about the woman he’d met the day before. Hadn’t been able to stop regretting not getting her damn number. Manon must have just been a common name that he’d never heard before.
Fenrys groaned from where he and his twin lounged in the leather couch of the private section they’d secured for the time being. "Does that mean her perky little cousin isn’t coming either?” He whined. “Gods, what I would GIVE to have another encounter with Asterin-"
"Don’t be a pig, Fenrys,” Connall rolled his eyes, grabbing the bottle of brandy Vaughan handed his way.
Asterin. Manon. Both names Marion had mentioned. Before he could open his mouth, Fenrys asked the question weighing on his mind for him. “Who exactly is in the wedding party if they aren’t?"
Aedion took a swig straight from one of the bottles and counted off on his fingers, "Lysandra, Aelin’s best friend,” by the flicker in his eyes, she was something to him, too, but he didn’t elaborate, “Evangeline, Lysandra’s foster sister, Nesryn Faliq, another friend-” a sly glance in Westfall’s direction at that, “And our adoptive sister Elide."
Lorcan felt his heart sink just a little bit. No Marion. Perhaps it was just a small world and Marion knew two of Aelin’s friends, but not Aelin herself. He poured another glass for himself, again cursing himself for being a prideful idiot and not asking for her damn number. Now he was never going to see her again. -
Aelin got strippers. Of course she did. Elide shook her head fondly as they clambered back into the limo, all of them laughing. She wasn’t shocked at all that her sister had gone all out as one of her last days as a ‘free woman.’ She had made several jokes about being 'put in shackles’ in two days, but Elide knew she didn’t mean it. She was hopelessly in love with Rowan, and everyone knew it.
Faintly, Elide felt a little stab of jealousy, but she pushed it off. She wouldn’t think about the fact that she’d never, and might not ever, feel the love both her siblings felt. And she definitely didn’t think about the super hot stranger she’d met on the airplane.
Aelin’s phone buzzed and she drunkenly pulled it out, gulping down another glass of champagne. She and Lysandra were already wasted, along with Ansel, who had joined them, and Nesryn was getting there, but Elide had only nursed one beer and one glass of champagne, and didn’t plan on drinking any more. Vernon had been a drinker, and an abusive one at that. The blonde gasped, leaning on her and practically shoving the screen in her face, though she was waving it so fast there was no chance of actually reading it.
"Dorian texted,” she slurred. “They just-hiccup- got to the Sea King. Let’s crash it?” Everyone else cheered, so Elide just went with it. She was sure Rowan wouldn’t mind his fiance showing up drunk and throwing herself at him.
They arrived at the Sea King-a bar downtown that they loved to frequent. Rowan wasn’t much of a club guy, though Aedion had forced him to go to one strip club-something Aelin wouldn’t appreciate in the morning- and Elide was sure he was more than comfortable to end the night at a place he actually knew. Aelin led the charge in her scandalous red dress and hot pink 'I’m the fucking bride’ crown that she found just hilarious, and Lysandra and Ansel paraded after her, Elide and Nesryn taking up the rear.
It had been a while since she’d been to the Sea King, but Elide knew it well- it was classy, for a sea themed bar. She knew Rowan and her siblings wouldn’t go to it probably at all if it wasn’t. And the sea embellishes were subtle, too- no obnoxious sea wall paper or tables made out of boat parts, thank the Gods. The bridal party moved towards the back, searching for the men, and Aelin didn’t seem apologetic at all as she looked into sections occupied by other people.
Elide knew her sister had found Rowan because she very loudly announced, “I’M HERE TO TAKE MY FIANCE HOME."
"You’re really already hammered?” Aedion complained. “It’s barely past midnight!"
"And how the hell did you track us down?” A slightly familiar voice-Vaughan she recalled- asked. Someone must have pointed at Dorian, because there were groans of his name.
“What?” The Havilliard defended. “It was getting boring."
"Are any of you sober?” The voice of Chaol asked, and Nesryn appeared in front of her in the doorway.
"Elide is,“ she said, gesturing backwards with her head. "She’s barely had anything to drink."
Aedion, Aelin and Rowan knew why she didn’t get drunk, but no one else did, and because she didn’t want to bring the mood down, she teased, "One of us has to keep track of the rest of-” she trailed off as she entered the section and there was Lorcan, lounging on a leather couch with a glass of some liquor in his hand.
Shit, shit, shit.
He started at the sight of her before his eyes narrowed, putting two and two together. Nesryn had called her Elide, not Marion. Her cheeks went red at being caught in her lie, and everyone noticed. But they thought she was flustered for a whole other reason. Aelin was too drunk to go all 'protective big sister,’ but Rowan and Aedion immediately zeroed their attention in on Lorcan. Fuck. Fuck. FUCK.
“I need another damn bottle,” he grumbled before he was hoisting himself up gracefully and stalking past her, down the hall to the bar. She waited two seconds, paralyzed, before she hurried after him. Better to deal with him then all of her friends and family.
It took her a little longer to get to the bar with her limp, and he was already at the bar, waiting for his bottle, a 50 on the counter in front of him. She slid into the bar stool next to him, and he glanced over, a cutting smile on her face. “Fancy seeing you again, Elide."
She sighed, putting her head in her hands. "To be fair, I never thought I’d see you again."
He shook his head. "You talk with me for two and a half damn hours about books and music and whether cats or dogs are better, yet you can’t tell me your real name? How can I even be sure the rest of the shit you spewed out was real?"
"It was,” she said roughly before her shoulders sagged slightly and she shook her head. “I’m sorry. I just.. don’t trust men easily. And I thought we were only going to dispense with pleasantries, not talk the whole time. I DEFINITELY didn’t expect to end up at the same wedding."
He studied her for a moment. "You mentioned an abusive uncle…” he paused. “This really isn’t any of my business, but… did he…"
She knew what he meant. "No,” she shook her head. “He never tried that. But there were, uh, a couple of guys who worked for him that almost did.” Bile rose in her throat, and she swallowed it down, shrugging a shoulder. “But they didn’t, so it’s fine."
"It’s not fine,” he said stonily, and how hadn’t she noticed how tense he had gotten at the words?
“You’re right, it’s not,” she agreed. “But it was years ago.” She glanced back towards the hall, half convinced Rowan or Aedion would appear within a few seconds. “You do realize they think we had sex, right?"
The grin he flashed her way was predatory. "I like it when you blush."
She glared at him half heartedly. "And here I was, about to ask if I could make up being an idiot to you."
She bit her lip. "There’s a 24 hour breakfast place down the street.. I mean, if you like breakfast food. And don’t want to return back to-” there was a shout followed by what could only be Lysandra’s cackling, “whatever that is."
He was already pulling back the 50 and withdrawing from the bar. "Breakfast food at midnight with a beautiful woman or watching your sister grind on my former colleague?” He asked, totally smirking when her face flamed red again at 'beautiful woman.’ Bastard. “I don’t know how I’ll ever choose."
She withdrew from the bar, too, knowing his answer. "I didn’t peg you as the joking type."
"To be fair, I’ve been drinking. And with Fenrys and Aedion all night."
"Okay, touche,” she allowed, glancing again towards the hall.
“They’re just going to think we’re having sex again."
Not that it was any of their business who she slept with, anyways. "I don’t care,” she tipped her head up defiantly. “I want Belgium waffles.” His chuckle chased her out into the night air, and, despite the chill, she felt warm.
Ah, so since it is my favorite shinobi boyfriend’s Birthday. Here is a light, silly modern!au birthday fic for everyone’s favorite Saizo. I hope you all like it! I enjoyed writing it. <3
You opened the door to the apartment slowly, cursing at the slight creak that echoed through the darkened living room.
You needed to be quiet.
Sliding the door silently shut behind you, you tiptoed into the kitchen, cursing whatever logic had told you it was okay to move in with your boyfriend.
It was much harder to surprise someone you lived with than someone you didn’t.
Especially if that surprise was food.
Food that you were making from scratch.
Honestly it was a lost cause, but you knew that he had stayed up half the night writing his novel, so maybe…maybe, he would be busy napping.
You looked at the clock. You had more than enough time to make the dango before people started arriving uninvited.
Breakfast in bed? Well dango wasn’t really breakfast was it? But it was Saizo’s favorite food, and you were bound and determined to make it for him.
It was his first birthday with you, after all.
You felt like you had something to prove.
Luckily for you, or well for the both of you really, dango was a family favorite at your house, and you had your grandmother’s recipe. You’d made it before, it was always a hit.
He was going to like it.
Well, you hoped so.
You hummed softly to yourself, enjoying how good it felt to be in the kitchen. His kitchen, your kitchen. A giggle left your lips, and you clamped your hand over your mouth.
Quiet. You had to be quiet.
He hadn’t gotten up, you leaned against the counter, looking at your pretty multi-colored dango, speared neatly and stacked on a plate.
But Saizo hadn’t come out of the bedroom yet, and you knew he was awake.
He was totally awake, that tease.
Unwilling to wait a moment longer you picked up the dango and carried it to the bedroom door, swinging it open with a tap of your foot, peaking your head inside.
Ah yes, your sleeping beauty was not asleep at all.
His copper-red eyes met yours with an amused look, beckoning you to him.
“Ah, I see the little lady must be done with her experiments. “
He was at his desk, glasses on the bridge of his nose, clearly typing out another one of his sinful books. A blush rose to your cheeks.
It wasn’t fair how attractive he was.
“Not experiments” You puffed your cheeks out at him. “A gift, for your birthday.” A frown graced his features at that comment.
Saizo didn’t like his birthday.
“What kind of gift could have possibly caused you to make all that noise?” He leaned back into his chair as you stepped fully into the room, striding over to him and setting the plate on the table.
“Homemade dango.” You couldn’t help the excitement in your eyes any more than he could help the brief look of surprise on his face. “I know you said you didn’t want to do anything, but having your favorite treat on your birthday is okay, right?” Ah that did it, his eyes softened, as they did so regularly when they gazed at you. “It’s my grandmother’s recipe. So they’re good. I promise.”
“Do you?” he smirked, picking up a skewer. “That also explains the rice flour on your face.” You flushed, moving your hand up to wipe it away, only to have him stop you, pulling you down to where your noses were almost touching, running his tongue along your cheek with an expert ease.
“Hmm” You sighed, a soft noise leaving your mouth. “Saizo. What-”
““Well who am I to disagree with your grandmother?” He continued, as though the moment had never happened. popping a piece of dango into his mouth, eyes widening.
And he ate another, then another.
“E-Eh, Saizo. You might want to slow down?” You offered, but he only shook his head.
“No, no, you made these for me little lady. They’re my favorite. Would you really deny me the treat of eating them on my birthday?”
“So you like them?” He didn’t respond. Instead his hand caught your wrist and pulled you down to him, an amused snort leaving his mouth at your yelp. He pressed his lips to yours, the sticky-sweet flavor of the dango still clinging to his lips. He settled you in his lap, the soft silence of the room only broken with your contented sigh as his lips left yours.
“I think you must’ve made more of these, hm?” He grabbed another skewer, as you let out a soft giggle.
“I did, but there are for the guests I know will inevitably arrive.” You pronounced solemnly, leaning forward to steal a bite from his. “But I can make you more, if you’d like.”
“I’d like it if you made them more instead, little lady.”
“I didn’t realize you liked dango this much.”
“ I don’t.”
“I like your dango this much.” The blush on your face burned as you buried it into the crook of neck.
It set your blood on fire, what he did to you. How could he be so kind?
Still, all you could do was relax against him, draping your arms around his neck and snuggling against him. A comfortable silence filled the room. You were pretty sure he had finished the dango you’d brought him, as he had gone back to typing on his laptop.
“Saizo” You half-murmured, not wanting to ruin the moment. “Are you sure that they are a good enough birthday gift?”
“Ah, little lady, I don’t know why you insist on doing these things for me at all.” You pulled away from him, eying him with a gentle understanding.
“Because I love you, and the fact that you were born is precious to me. I-” His lips found yours again, this time lifting you with him as he stood up, carrying you over to the bed. He gently set you down, pulling away to stare at you.
The look in his eyes made your heart ache.
“I love you too.” He trailed a hand up your neck, the touch making you shiver. “But if you insist on celebrating my birthday, there is one more thing I’d like you to do.”
The implication was there, you knew your face had to be beet red. You fell back against the bed, watching him expectantly.
“Get me the rest of the dango from the kitchen.”
It was like he had thrown a bucket of cold water over you. You pouted up at him.
“What, did we have something a little more…sinful on our mind.” He smirked at you, and you couldn’t resist a laugh.
“I’ll get you the rest of the dango.” You leaned over to kiss his cheek before bounding out of the room.
Since Kojuro is your #1 babe, do you have any modern headcanons for him? Can be as sfw or nsfw as you want!
SOMEONE FINALLY ASKED THIS I HAVE SO MANY
still owns bontenmaru that turtle will follow him into every next life shut up he talks to him and explains his troubles often
talks about the plot to his latest book to bontenmaru like the turtle can speak english and give him input on what to do next
always thought date masamune was really cool when he was a kid and his random obsession as a child was the sengoku period
he still has a messy apartment. books are everywhere and he lowkey owns shoujo manga because he’s a fucking dork
everythings the same it’s just that he dresses nice (i’m rejecting his love scramble modern day clothing he looks like a high school coach and i can’t have that)
still owns a kiseru because it’s kojuro and he has a lot of weird quirks even in present day
if he’s not an assistant to a ceo masamune, he’s definitely an author.
an author who spends 95% of his time writing and forgets to do basic things like eat and go grocery shopping, most likely. it’s not even like he can’t afford it it’s just that he thinks about the idea of leaving the house to just buy food he’d have to spend more time cooking too? and his ass can barely cook? yeah nvm fam we good we can live for five days with just plain rice, no cooking we die like men
set his microwave on fire once because he never knew you couldn’t microwave tinfoil until he moved out and kita no longer cooked for him
nobody knows how but he’s so fucking awful at cooking like he can barely make his own coffee without fucking up and it takes him like two months to get that right alone. he just always somehow fucks it up and that is why no one ever needs him to bring anything ever to a potluck unless he bought it
he’s been writing since he was twenty and it has most definitely been used as a get laid tactic in his young years even if he denies it every time it’s brought up
lowkey writes poems but will never let anyone see it ever it’s hidden under his mattress
kita comes by his apartment once a month to yell at him and then help him clean up while whacking him over the head with his own book because dude you’re thirty, get your shit together.
most likely only has takeout and a ketchup bottle in his fridge. it’s a very empty fridge and it’s entirely his fault because he just forgets to eat a lot or sleep a lot.
falls asleep in random places around his house and is the king of powernaps when he has writer’s block, sometimes he just falls asleep on the floor and he’s an irresponsible fuck with himself all the time
has his hair in a man bun too but usually it’s slicked back af
is a pretty famous author, and he got some of the hype because everyone was really surprised the author of this book actually turned out to be really hot. he gets confused when people call him daddy in the comments of his posts on social media like “i’m not ready to be a father yet”
used to babysit this kid with heterochromia and his really loud cousin as a teenager, and swore he’d protect those annoying kids with his life and they’re like his closest friends they have a bar night about every other week now and is basically their dad
met his mc because they work at the same publishing company and she asked him to read over a manuscript of hers as a favor and he was so impressed he wrote his number on it upon returning it
he asked her out by writing a short story about him asking her out and then e-mailing it to her what a fcking dork and he talked to bontemaru about it
mc met him at his apartment for their first date and nearly cried because what the fuck and they spent their first date cleaning his apartment instead of eating out
his neighbors file noise complaints once they start dating
he was so fuckin whipped after that he wrote poems about her and he would always go out of his way to visit her whenever he could like “hi u left a strand of hair at my place should i come by n drop it off”
kita won’t shut up about asking when she’s going to get some nieces and nephews and when he’s going to propose