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leossmoonn · 3 years

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Little Family [Stefan Salvatore]

masterlist

pairing - stefan salvatore x mikealson,fem!reader

type - fluff

note / request - “okay a human!mikaelson reader fluff w stefan, where it’s Caroline’s bday, but y/n’s father, elijah, doesn’t allow her to go, and she’s force to babysit a three yr old hope while the mikaelsons are “handling some business” and the mystic falls gang is having fun at caroline’s bday party. stefan isn’t having a good time bc his gf isn’t there. So he sneaks up to her house and is like “hey juliet” and he stays w her and hope while hope and stefan team up against y/n and all. and then hope and stefan fall asleep while playing with hope like a fun uncle cuddling his fav “niece” and its just pure wholesomeness domestic feels” i love this so much omg. i apologise for taking so long to write this. i wasn’t going to originally bc i was busy, but i really just had a lot of inspiration for this so hehe, enjoy!

summary - stefan sneaks into your house and hangs out with you and hope

warnings / includes - fighting, kissing, cuddling. so obviously hope was born before they all became adults n stuff lol

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*gif isn’t mine*

“Yeah, I’ll be there in ten. You’re going to love the gift I gave you!” You giggled and hung up the phone.

You turned back to your mirror, straightening out your shirt over the top of your jeans. You made a face, not sure if you wanted your shirt to be tucked in or over your bottom of your jeans. You knew you would risk looking like Elena Gilbert if you didn’t tuck your shirt in, but having it free and hanging seemed more comfortable. You went to tuck it in once more when your bedroom door opened, revealing your father and your baby cousin.

“Hey, Dad! How should I wear my shirt? Tucked or un-tucked?” You looked to him.

“Anything looks great, sweetheart. But, I am afraid you can’t go,” Elijah said.

You frowned, your hands dropping down to your sides. “What do you mean? You said yes last week.”

“I know what I said, but I’m changing my mind,” he replied.

“Why?” You asked. Elijah sighed and set Hope down on your bed.

“As you know, Mikael is on the loose. We can’t have you running around as an easy target for him.”

You rolled your eyes, scoffing at his reasoning. “He’s my grandfather, Dad. And I know he hates all of you, but that’s not my problem. Plus, I’m a human and he’s a vampire hunter. Vampire hunter.”

“And you don’t think that he won’t use you for leverage?” Elijah hummed.

“Well, I’ll be with Caroline, Damon, Tyler, Stefan, and Bonnie. Who, might I mention, is a powerful Bennett witch. Oh, and Stefan is my protective, vampire boyfriend who will fight off Mikael, or anyone, who tries to hurt me,” you stated matter-of-factly.

Elijah chuckled, crossing his arms around his chest. “That’s adorable, but no. I am not risking your life just because it’s your friend’s birthday.”

“Dad!” You whined. “I”m seventeen, this is so unfair!” “And you’re acting like a two-year old,” Elijah frowned. He then went over back to your bed, picking up Hope and handing her to you.

You scoffed and cradled her close to you.

“You’re staying home, end of discussion.” Elijah said, turning on his heel to walk out of the room.

“No, Dad! That’s not fair! Ugh, why are you so overprotective!” You stepped out of your room and yelled.

Elijah chuckled and turned his head towards you. “Oh, and you’re watching Hope today. Your uncle and aunt and I have some business to attend to. We won’t be back until early morning, so don’t leave the house and don’t let anyone in. Not even your boyfriend.”

He then turned away from you, leaving you frustrated and angry.

“Love you, Y/n!” Elijah announced from the kitchen.

You rolled your eyes and stomped into your room, slamming your door. You sat Hope down on your bed gently, then going to your hamper and kicking roughly.

“Ugh!” You screamed. “This is bullshit! I’m almost an adult! I’m surrounded by ancient, supernatural creatures for God’s sake! I have a black belt, too! Dad is just so freaking annoying.”

“I’m sorry,” Hope frowned. She didn’t like seeing you angry. Even though you two were cousins, you felt more like sisters. Especially since you had taken care of her since she was born.

You turned to her, your anger subsiding. You gave her a small smile, sitting down on the bed next to her.

“It’s okay. It’s not your fault. You know, you’ll probably have it worse with Klaus as your dad,” you chuckled.

“Ew,” Hope cringed. “Ew indeed,” you smiled. “Do you want to watch a movie or something?”

“Yeah! And play Legos!” Hope exclaimed.

“On it,” you nodded.

You got up and went into her play room, grabbing an un-opened, Lego treehouse set. You then let Hope chose a movie. She picked Tarzan and you two got to work on the Lego set.

Meanwhile, Stefan was at Caroline’s house, sipping a wine cooler and leaning against the kitchen counter. He half-listened to Caroline talking about how much work she put into this party. He kept checking his phone, the time going by so slowly.

“Sorry, Stefan, am I boring you?” Caroline snapped.

Stefan put his phone in his pocket quickly, giving her an apologetic smile.

“Sorry, I just… When did Y/n say she was going to get here?” He asked.

“Yeah, it’s been a while. Hasn’t it?” Bonnie said, looking around the house.

“Well, Elijah probably forbade her to come. I wish I could adopt her or something,” Caroline sighed.

“You realise your mom is a cop and is probably more protective than the Mikealsons?” Damon snorted.

“My mom has loosened up over the years. Elijah never will,” Caroline shrugged.

“Here, I’ll text her to see what’s up,” Stefan suggested. “Alright! Well, don’t take too long. We’re having cake soon!” Caroline giggled.

Stefan smiled and nodding, taking out his phone and calling you as he went to the front of the house where nobody was. You picked up on the third ring, your tone of voice surprising Stefan.

“Yeah?” You snapped.

Stefan’s mouth dropped and his brows raised. “H-Hi. Is this the wrong time?” He chuckled.

You sighed, “Yeah, sorry. It’s been an irritating morning.”

“Hm, let me guess. Elijah wouldn’t let you come?” Stefan guessed.

“Ding, ding, ding!” You chimed. “He’s so infuriating!”

“I’m sorry, babe. So, there’s no chance you can come?” He asked.

“Nope. Plus, I have to look over Hope.” “Well, at least you’re not alone.”

“True,” you chuckled. “Well, go and have fun, okay? Tell Caroline I’m sorry and that I’ll give her her present soon. I’ll talk to you later, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Stefan nodded. “Love you, have fun!”

“Hm, I love you, too,” you hummed.

Stefan hung up the phone, sighing and lifting his head up. He looked at the front door, debating on wether to leave or not. He knew it would be rude, but honestly, he wasn’t having fun at all. Caroline was his friend and he did love her, but he was looking forward to this party as a chance to hang out with you since you barely could get out of the house with Elijah as your father.

“You can go.” Caroline’s voice appeared from behind him.

Stefan jumped slightly, turning around. “O-Oh, are you sure?”

“Yes, I know you two don’t get to see each other a lot,” Caroline smiled.

“You sure?” Stefan asked again. “I am positive. Just remember, you owe me a make-up birthday lunch with Y/n,” Caroline teased.

“Alright, sounds good. Thank you, Care. And happy birthday,” Stefan smiled.

“Thank you. Now go and save your girl from her crazy family,” Caroline clapped him on the back.

“Will do,” Stefan chuckled. He gave her one last smile before leaving the party. He used his vamp speed to go to your house. He jumped up to your roof, knowing that you were in your room.

He sneaked up to your window, smiling as he heard your laugh. He peered into your window, seeing you building a Lego set with Hope while the end credits of Tarzan played. He put his knuckles up to the window, knocking loudly three times.

Your head snapped to the window and you raised your fists, shoulders tensing and eyes darting around. Your body relaxed as you saw it was just Stefan. Your lips upturned into a big, excited smile. You got up, rushing over to your window sill. You unlocked your window and shoved it up, leaning down.

“Hey, Juliet,” Stefan smiled.

Your heart skipped a beat as his words. “Why hello, Romeo. What’re you doing here? I thought you were at Caroline’s?”

“I wasn’t having much fun at the party without you, and Caroline let me go to hang out with you,” he explained.

Your brows raised in shock. “Caroline let you leave? Caroline Forbes?”

“Yes, Caroline Forbes,” Stefan laughed. “Wow, she must’ve had a lot to drink then,” you snorted.

“Not really,” he shook his head. “So it was out of the kindness of her heart? My God, I think the world is ending!” You gasped sarcastically.

“Ha-ha. She’s not as bad as you think,” Stefan defended.

“Yeah, tell that to last-year-me,” you rolled your eyes. “So, are you going to let me in? I don’t what your neighbours to think someone is breaking in.” Stefan changed the subject.

“Oh, yeah, yeah. Of course,” you chuckled.

You stepped back to let him in. He used his vamp sped to run in, causing you to yelp in surprise and Hope to giggle. Stefan stopped in front of you, a charming smile playing on his lips.

“You’re even more beautiful up close,” he smiled.

You rolled your eyes, feeling heat climb up your neck. “You flirt with all the girls like that?”

“Hm, nope. Only with my amazing girlfriend,” he grinned. He then swooped you up in his arms, giggles falling out of your mouth as he threw you onto the bed.

“Stefan! You’re going to break the Lego set!” You shrieked.

“Oh, it’s fine. Right, Hope?” Stefan hummed, looking at the toddler.

She giggled in reply, getting up on her knees and crawling over to Stefan.

“Uncle Steffy!” Hope exclaimed. “Hey! How’s my girl?” Stefan picked her up, throwing her up in the air and blowing raspberries on her tummy.

“Be careful with her! If she gets hurt, my dad will kill you,” you nagged.

“We’re just havin’ fun! Right, Hope?” Stefan turned to her.

“Yeah!” She exclaimed, nodding her head furiously so all her hair got in her eyes.

You couldn’t help but smile at the sight. Your two favourite people in the world laughing and smiling, hanging out with you and having fun. What more could you want?

“Why don’t you say we play a little game?” Stefan suggested.

“Sure, what do you have in mind?” You asked.

“Oh, I was talking to Hope,” Stefan said. “Oh, rude,” you scoffed.

“Say, why don’t we go downstairs?”

“No!” You shook your head. “Nobody is home, correct?” Stefan asked.

“Yeah, but —” “Then it’s settled! Let’s go, Hope!” Stefan exclaimed, throwing her up in the air once more and speeding out of your room.

“Ugh, Stefan!” You groaned. You ran out of your room and down the stairs, looking around for the two troublemakers. “Are you drunk or something? You seem so…” “Less uptight?” Stefan suddenly appeared in front of you.

You jumped in surprise, recovering quickly. “No… You’re just more… lively.”

“Well, I did have a few wine coolers, and a beer when I first got to the party,” he shrugged.

“Ah, I see. Well, why don’t you become less relaxed and come back upstairs before my dad, Klaus, and Bex come home for a surprise visit.” You crossed your arms around your chest.

“But we’re having fun!” Stefan whined, gesturing to Hope who was smiling in his arms. “Yeah, Y/n!” She spoke.

“Nu-uh, not you too. C’mon, let’s just go —”

“No can do, sorry,” Stefan shrugged before running off again.

You huffed, stomping your foot onto the ground. “This isn’t funny, guys!”

“Catch us if you can,” Stefan stopped to wink at you before zooming off again.

The wink made your heart flutter and you couldn’t fight the growing smile on your lips. You sighed and shook your head, your mood changing as you ran around the Mikealson mansion.

You saw Hope in the living room running over to her quickly, but she used her own vampire speed to run away.

“Why couldn’t I have been adopted to a human family?” You groaned.

“Well, then you wouldn’t have met me!” Stefan exclaimed. “And me!” Hope followed.

“Well, I definitely couldn’t do without Hope. But… I think I could live without you, Stefan,” you smirked.

Stefan scoffed, putting his hand over his heart, feigning hurt. “I-I… I cannot believe you. I am so hurt right now. I guess I have no choice but to do this…”

Without warning, Stefan ran over to you and swooped you up. You squealed excitedly, feeling the air hit your face as he ran up the stairs and back to your room. He threw you back on your bed, getting on top of you and pinning your wrists down. Butterflies swarmed through your stomach as his hands tightened around your arms. He looked into your eyes, his pupils dilated.

“Well, fancy meeting you here,” he remarked. “Hm, so it is. How’s it goin’, handsome?” You smirked.

“Better now that I’m lookin’ at my girl,” he winked.

“Ah, I am so lucky,” you grinned. “You’re lucky? Please, I’m the lucky one,” he scoffed.

“Oh, yeah? Wanna bet?” You bit your lip, challenging him with your eyes.

His stomach did flips and he nodded furiously. You hooked your legs around his, flipping him over with all your strength.

“HA! Look who’s the bottom now,” you teased.

“Always gonna be you, sweetheart,” he sighed. “Fat chance,” you shot back.

Stefan smiled and leaned up, his lips touching yours softly. You melted into the kiss, your hands going from his wrists to his hair. You ran your fingers through his soft locks, twirling the strands around your fingers. His hands went down to your waist and he gripped your hips through your jeans, his fingertips skimming the bare skin that was showing from your top riding up.

“You guys left me!” Hope busted through the door, eyes glowing yellow and fangs being bared.

You two jumped apart, apologetic expressions on your faces.

“We’re so sorry, baby!” You pouted. “I thought I w’your girl!” She crossed her arms and pouted at Stefan.

Stefan grinned and wiggled out from under you. He lifted up Hope, spinning her around and setting her on the bed.

“You are my girl! But you’re also my favourite niece!”

“Mm’kay,” Hope shrugged.

You laid down on your pillow, smiling at the two. You grabbed your remote, putting on another movie as Hope and Stefan began to finish building the treehouse. You three sat up in your room for a few hours, Hope and Stefan finally finishing the Lego set. Stefan set it up in Hope’s play room on top of the bookshelf, then coming, his chest filling with warmth and happiness as he saw you and Hope cuddling.

“Room for one more?” Stefan asked.

“Most definitely,” you grinned.

You moved over, Stefan slipping in the bed on the other side, Hope settling down in-between you two. You continued watching the movie, not realising that Hope and Stefan had fallen asleep. You had turned around to comment on the movie, your voice stopping immediately. Your lips curled up into an awed smile. Stefan had his arm around Hope lightly, holding her close to him. Hope’s little head rested on his chest, her arms curling up and fisting his shirt.

You quietly and swiftly grabbed your phone, getting up and taking a few pictures of the two. You looked over them, sighing contently.

“My little family.”

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i lowk hate this lolll, hope yall dont 🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️

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#stefan salvatore #stefan salvatore x reader #stefan salvatore imagine #stefan salvatore fluff #stefan salvatore x reader fluff #tvd #the vampire diaires #tvd imagine #paul wesley #paul wesley x reader

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need-a-fugue · 4 years

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Centennial Man

Summary: Bucky may not want to celebrate his birthday, but you’ll be damned if you let his 100th go by as just another day.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Cavity-inducing fluff.

You’re gone when he wakes, that side of the bed cold and empty.

He twists around, fingers idly gripping the crumpled sheets where your body should be, a frown pulling at the corners of his mouth as he blinks the room into focus. It’s dim but not dark, a sliver of early morning light spilling in through the crack in the curtains, still drawn – unlike how he leaves them when he gets out of bed in the morning, tearing them open to bathe you in the offending light, forcing you to writhe and moan and finally get up.

But today… you’re already up.

He slowly turns back around, rubbing his stubbled face into the million thread count sheets you insisted on buying a few months back – new sheets for a new home! – before landing his eyes on the bedside clock. His brows pull tightly together, confusion tugging his frown even further. Nine o’clock? He lets out a groan and rolls onto his back, a knowing, “Damnit,” flowing languidly out of him as he rubs at his eyes.

You turned off the alarm. Of course you did. You turned off the alarm to keep him in bed and then you disappeared to go do… something. Even though he told you – repeatedly – to treat this just like any other damn day.

He hears the front door open, the crinkle of a paper sack, a sharp, “Ooop,” in your voice to likely mark a near trip or spill. And he pulls himself up and out of bed.

“What are you doing?” he asks, stepping out into the hallway, tugging a T-shirt over his head, not even bothering to do up the jeans he pulls on. He peers into the kitchen, parking it at the breakfast bar to watch as you merrily pluck item after item out of a large paper bag.

“I went to our corner bakery,” you state, not even turning to look at him, so intent on unpacking the goodies. “I got croissants,” you spin then, just long enough to offer a quick raised brow, “obviously,” and turn back to the counter. “A blueberry muffin. A lemon poppyseed. A bran muffin,” you intone slyly, whipping back around to face him. “Because old men like you need their fiber.”

“Ha, ha,” he spouts, grumpy frown still painted on his face.

You reach behind and grab a single plate from the counter, pluck a paper coffee cup with the other hand, and step over to the breakfast bar. “And,” you announce with a flair, setting the plate down in front of him, “pain au chocolate. Because it’s my baby’s birthday. And he deserves it.” You wiggle your brows playfully, getting met with little more than a dramatic eyeroll from Bucky.

He points to your other hand. “That coffee for me?”

“Of course,” you state, setting it down in front of him before rocking back on your heels, crossing your arms over your chest, and offering an almost chiding glare. “Black. Plain. Boring. Just like you.”

He plucks the plastic top, tosses it to the side. “I told you… I don’t do birthdays.”

“You did my birthday,” you say with a shrug.

“Yeah,” he says after downing a long, hot sip. “You would’ve thrown me out if I hadn’t.”

Your face twists with admonishment. “No,” you intone, narrowing your eyes severely. “You just like being the gift giver, the one who celebrates other people. The hero.”

“Making you dinner for your birthday makes me a hero?” he asks, lips finally quirking into a small, crooked smile, a hint of mirth twinkling in his eyes as you roll yours in annoyance. He plucks a pain au chocolate from the plate, takes a giant bite, devouring almost half the pastry at once. “This is it, right?” comes out of him amid buttery crumbs as he speaks around the food in his mouth. “No party… no nothing, right?”

Another eyeroll, this one so deep it almost hurts. “Really, I should just count my gift to you as talking Tony out of that damn party.”

He swallows thickly, takes another quick sip of coffee to wash down the pastry. “I don’t get it. He hates me. Why would he want to throw me a party anyway? Unless it’s because he hates me… and he knows I’d hate it.”

“First of all,” you mutter spinning back around to grab your own coffee off the counter, “He doesn’t hate you.” You shrug. “He just doesn’t like you. And yeah, you being annoyed by even just the thought of a birthday gathering probably gives him a monstrous hard on.”

“Could do without that image,” he mutters before shoving the rest of the croissant into his mouth.

“But really, that man will take any opportunity to throw a party. Don’t make this all about you.”

“My birthday,” he states simply. “Not about me. Got it.”

You sweep out of the kitchen, rounding the breakfast bar to pull up next to him. “Nat’s covering for you this morning – ”

“You could’ve just said that instead of turning off my alarm,” he interjects, a bit of an edge to his voice.

You give him a get real stare. “You still would’ve gotten up by six… still would’ve gone down to the gym. It’s your birthday, you can sleep in one damn day a year.”

“Mm-hmm,” he mutters, reaching out for the remaining chocolate pastry.

“Anyway,” you intone, swiftly plucking the treat from him and tearing it in half, returning only a portion to his waiting, open hand. “As I was saying… Natasha’s covering for you, so no work today. Steve wants to hang out, so I said I’d send you his way for a bit. But I need you back here by six.”

“Why?” he asks, eyes narrowing in suspicion.

“Because it would be rude to keep the mariachi band waiting,” you snipe. “Why do you think? We’re having dinner.”

“I don’t want to go out.”

“Good, ‘cause we’re staying in.”

His eyes widen, brow arching into an utterly incredulous expression. “Don’t take this the wrong way, doll, but I don’t want you to cook either. I might not want to celebrate my birthday, but that doesn’t mean I want to get food poisoning for it.”

“I’m not going to…” You let out a low, annoyed growl. “You’re the worst. Just go… do whatever you want to do for a few hours.”

He reaches out and captures you with his metal arm as you try to scurry off beyond him, back to the bedroom. “What if what I want to do is right here?”

You swat him away, aiming a pointed finger as you take a single, wide step back. “No,” you declare, trying – and failing – to keep your lips from curing into a devilish smile. “Not now. Not yet.”

He turns back to the breakfast bar with a grunt. A scoff. A bitter huff. “I gave you two orgasms before the sun even came up on your birthday.”

“Psht,” you scoff. “I was barely awake. Probably dream faking.”

He shakes his head slowly. “Nope. I rocked your world.”

Your eyes roll back so hard that this time it definitely does physically hurt. “You are such an old man.”

000

“You should have a little more faith in her,” Steve says with a chuckle as he swipes at his hair in the locker room mirror, pinching a chunk between his fingers and twisting.

Bucky snorts in reply, rolling his eyes at his friend’s – frankly alarming – love affair with 21st century hair products as he does little more than viciously rub a towel through his own just washed hair. A two-hour run. Some light sparring followed by heavy lifting. A long ass shower. And he’s finally ready to face whatever you have cooked up for him. Mostly.

“You’re acting like she’s gonna throw you a surprise party,” the still-preening super soldier says, barking out a quick laugh when Bucky turns on him with a raised, wary brow. “She’s not going to do something we all know you’d hate.”

“I hate celebrating my birthday,” he mutters vaguely as he tosses the towel into a hamper by the door and roughly pulls on a sweatshirt.

“You didn’t used to,” Steve says, finally turning away from the mirror and locking onto Bucky’s eyes with a rather gloomy cast. “Hell, you used to drag me around to every soda shop and dance hall in the city. Kept me out all night just because it was your birthday and you damn well had the right.”

Bucky shifts his eyes away, unable to see such memories – vague, unattainable recollections of his past life, an utterly other life – through the simple, reminiscent lens of his friend. “Yeah, well. That was a long time ago.”

“Alright,” he sighs out, an almost disappointed edge to his voice. “Well, for what it’s worth… happy birthday, Buck.” He whips on a stiff button down – ever the dapper fella – and begins to do it up, keeping the sour-looking man in his periphery. “And just… be nice.” He heads for the door, dropping a hand to Bucky’s shoulder as he goes, giving him a swift jostle as he states, “She’s trying to do something nice for you. Don’t be a jerk about it.”

He does little more than mutter in response – something bleak and unintelligible that comes out like a lazy grunt – and turns to follow him out of the locker room, out of the sprawling gym. Each reluctant step towards the elevator, then down the hall to your newly shared apartment, seems to stutter and slow, his entire body prickling in a heated hesitation.

Why is it so different now? he muses dimly. Why does celebrating feel so… wrong?

Because it shouldn’t be happening, that’s why. Because he never should’ve lived to be 100 to begin with. And the only reason he did is because he was transformed into some sort of ageless monster, designed to kill. To end life. There’s no reason why anyone should be celebrating the beginning of his.

But of course, he’d never say that to you, would never tell you that he was undeserving of kindness or love or even just a birthday dinner. He’d tried that once already, and it ended with him donning a split lip. Tough love, apparently, was a phrase to live by where you came from.

“Ah,” you squeak out, an animated leap accompanying the all too excited utterance as you flash a wide, bright smile the moment he steps through the door. “You’re back! Perfect timing!”

His eyes blow wide as he looks just past you, cocking his head to peer at the fully made table to your left. “What is all this?” he asks with a laugh, sauntering over to the pristine settings and pulling in a long breath through his nose, taking in the strong aroma of… “Steak?”

You nod. “But don’t worry. I didn’t make it. I promise.”

Another laugh, and the accompanying smile lingers easily on his face, strain lifting from his shoulders as he watches you slip over to the counter to pour a couple fingers of what looks to be damn fine whiskey into a crystal tumbler.

“Sit,” you demand, dangling the glass dangerously between thumb and forefinger, waving it slowly back and forth in front of his face.

He does as requested, dropping into the chair, and reaching up for the glass only to have you flop heavily into his lap instead. A surprised oof blows out of him, followed by an amused, “Hey,” as you settle in and take a single, slow sip. Your eyes close, the softest hum of pleasure slipping from your lips as he slides the whiskey from your hand. “Good?” he asks before taking a long pull himself. “Mm, yeah,” he mutters, swiping his tongue languidly over his lips. “That is good.”

You nod and lean over to hack away at the giant, bloody steak on the table. “This,” you say with a flourish as you spear a bite with the fork and bring it up to Bucky’s mouth, “is from Donovan’s. One of Tony’s favorite places.” You wait until he accepts the bite, his lips still curling into a sly grin, before you raise a brow and further explain, “He claims it’ll melt in your mouth.”

Bucky chews slowly, relishing the perfectly rare-cooked meat before swallowing it down and offering a pleased nod. You dive back in and steal a bite for yourself, agreeing with Tony’s assessment wholeheartedly as you leisurely chew before moving your fork over to pick at the massive baked potato. Bucky lets out an airy chuckle in your ear, leaning forward to drop a swift, whiskey-laden kiss at your temple. “Is this my birthday dinner or yours?” he asks as he slowly lifts the hem of your shirt and sneaks his cool metal digits beneath.

You jolt in his lap as he splays his icy palm over your ribs and lets out another light laugh. “Fine. Fine,” you mutter, feigning annoyance as you rise and hand over the fork. “I’ll just sit over here… all alone.” You lower yourself into the chair across from him, bottom lip pulling into an overdone pout, all in the hopes of getting even just one more precious, sunny laugh out of him.

It works too. One laugh, one smile, each bleeding easily into the next as you sit across from your 100-year-old counterpart. Your – sometimes better, sometimes worse – other half.

The two of you slip easily into the moment, enjoying a calm and leisurely – and delicious – dinner together. The few words that fall from either of your lips – all too often busy with the succulent steak, dripping-with-butter potato, oddly amazing brussels sprouts – are truly unneeded, talking feeling wholly underrated when you can simply bask in the presence of one another. And play a dangerously distracting game of footsie beneath the table.

Once the meal is over, both plates practically licked clean, you jump up to clear the dishes, eager to get at them before he tries to take over. You drop everything into the sink with a clank and a thud – wince when you hear him hiss out a disgruntled, “Easy, baby.” – and pour him another drink before turning to slowly back out of the kitchen, holding the whiskey up like a carrot as you beckon him into the other room.

“Where are we going?” he asks, wily expression on his face, his hands dropping down to your hips as he backs you into the hall.

He begins to turn, not-so-subtly angling towards the bedroom. But you shuffle your feet to a halt. “Uh, uh,” you intone with a shake of the head. “You still have to open your present.”

His fingers trail up your sides, even as his head drops, lips lowering to your exposed collarbone where he sucks a small, sweet, red blossom into your skin. “Yeah,” he mutters into you, flesh hand ducking beneath your shirt, pressing a hot palm to the small of your back. “That’s what I’m trying to do.”

“No,” you laugh out, stepping out of his loose grip and giving him a small shove. You tug his hand out from beneath your shirt, wrap his fingers around the whiskey glass, and saunter off to the other side of the room to dig out a small, wrapped package. “I just ate a potato that weighed like four pounds,” you say as you slump heavily onto the couch, neatly wrapped gift in hand. “I need some time before… that.”

He rolls his eyes, takes a long sip of sweet, brown liquor, and sets the tumbler down on the side table before sitting beside you. “Okay,” he mutters vaguely, that unsure look returning to his face. “How much time do you need to digest?”

You laugh, the bright and tinkling sound swiftly bringing back his delicate, crooked smile. “Shame we can’t all have a super soldier’s metabolism, huh?”

He cocks his head playfully. “Am I not being patient enough? I thought I was being very patient.”

You let out a rather indignant snort and toss the gift haphazardly into his lap. “Yeah, sure. Patient. Also grateful. And kind…”

He leans forward then, curling into the bend of your neck and peppering your skin with swift kisses. “I am grateful, baby,” he murmurs into you. “Always grateful for you.”

Your hand slinks up into his hair, fingertips dancing lightly along his scalp. “Well… as for the patience part… we still have cake to get to too.”

“Thought you were full,” he whispers softly, his lips, tongue, now tracing the line of your jaw.

“But it’s your favorite,” you state, craning your head to give him better access.

“You’re my favorite,” he mutters into you. “Best thing I’ve ever tasted.”

“Well,” you intone thickly, pulling away just a bit, knowing full well that if you don’t manage to duck out of this now, you certainly won’t be able to later. “That is good to hear. But I have it on good authority that devil’s food cake is your favorite.”

“Really?” he asks, voice sounding utterly disinterested as he tugs you closer.

You nod. “Steve gave me your mom’s recipe.”

His lips still on your neck, body stiffening beside you. He pulls away with a start, confused look on his face. “My mom’s recipe?” You nod again, raising a questioning brow. “You made… my mom’s cake? For me?”

Your hand slowly slides down to cup his cheek, eyes shining brightly as you say simply, “Sure did, baby.”

He looks almost… lost. For a long moment, he does nothing but stare at you, seemingly assessing everything about you. His hand rises to your face, fingertips brushing lightly along your cheek, thumb dropping low to gently press into the center of your bottom lip. “You’re amazing. You know that?”

“I do,” you say, tone straight and serious, teasing quality playing only in your sparkling eyes. You give him a wide smile and a little shove, gaze dropping down to the package in his lap. “Now, open your present.”

That crooked smile returns, not quite a smirk, certainly not a leer. You’ve come to know it as one of his most sincere expressions, even if it isn’t quite as bright and broad as that ever-elusive beam that only occasionally breaks across his face, crinkling the corners of his eyes. It sets off butterflies in your stomach just the same. Because both of those smiles are seemingly only ever directed at you.

He looks down at the gift with a sigh and gingerly tears into the wrapping, pulling it apart to reveal deep brown leather, thick and supple. He slides his fingers delicately over it, over the flat, soft surface, before pulling it out of the wrapping entirely and flipping it over in his hands.

“It’s a new journal,” you mutter, tone suddenly peppered with apprehension. He looks up, expression unreadable, and you give a short shrug. “You only ever write in those notebooks and… important things… like your memories? Those should have a nicer place to live.”

His eyes lighten to a luminous, icy blue as he continues to stare over at you, into you. “That’s really nice, baby,” he says softly. “I love it.” His gaze drops back down to the book in his hand, brow furrowing as he traces a finger over the sharp, ridged pattern running along the edges of the cover. “What’s this?”

“Oh,” you start, a hint of hesitation working into your tone. “Yeah. That.” You reach over and pick up the journal, flip it over to show him that the same etching stretches along the back as well. “It’s my heartbeat.”

His eyes fly up to meet yours, a quick chortle pulling from his chest. “What?” he barks out, glancing back at the design and noting now that, yes, it does appear to resemble an EKG readout.

“Yeah, I had someone in medical record it for me. And then I sent it off to some… leather smith or whatever they’re called to emboss it… or… whatever.” You shake your head dismissively. “Anyway, it’s 101 beats of my heart. One for every year you’ve been alive. Plus one to grow on.”

“You…” He sputters for a moment, still staring down at the journal, staring down at the very rhythm of your heart sitting in his hands. And then his face splits wide, that big, bright beam you’d been waiting for – hoping for – taking over as he raises his head and locks onto your eyes. “You crazy girl,” he laughs out, shaking his head fondly.

“Crazy?” you bleat out, only barely able to maintain the faux vexation. “I just gave you my heart… almost literally!”

“Still figuratively,” he states with a raised brow. “But I damn sure love it even more now.”

“Well, good,” you breathe out, reaching over and tugging back the cover. “Then hopefully you’ll forgive the fact that I took the liberty of filling in the first entry for you. Go on,” you prod as soon as you see his eyes drop to take in your sloppily scrawled words. “Read it.”

He settles back into the couch with a grin, holding the journal open with one hand as he clears his throat dramatically and begins. “Dear diary,” he reads aloud, choking suddenly on a laugh as he shakes his head lazily back and forth. “You think that’s how I start a journal entry?”

You shrug. “I don’t make it a habit of reading other people’s diaries, so I really wouldn’t know.”

“It’s a journal,” he corrects, both brows cocked high as he leans back to peer down at you.

You merely roll your eyes in response, tapping the open book impatiently in a swift and silent order for him to continue.

He returns to the page, corner of his mouth quirking into a crooked grin as you press yourself into his side, laying your head atop his shoulder. “Today is my 100th birthday,” he goes on coolly. “My wonderful, brilliant, patient, funny, charismatic, beautiful, delightful, best damn girl,” he breathes out with a snicker, “treated me to breakfast in bed.”

“You were supposed to still be in bed,” you gripe from his side.

He goes on, gentle amusement and utter adoration blooming in his gut, as he reads aloud, “She’s really the best.”

You snake even closer, wrapping your arms around his bicep and singing out, “It’s true.”

He gives a slight nod and returns to the entry. “She ordered steak from the best place in town. Diary, you do not want to know how much that cow cost.” His head cocks towards you, single brow raising in an almost admonishing way. Again, you shrug and tick your eyes back to the page, encouraging him to go on. He does so, uttering, “Then she gave me her heart,” with a gentle fondness.

“I really am a peach,” you mutter, turning your face just a bit and pressing a lingering kiss onto his shoulder.

“You are, baby,” he agrees, dropping his lips to your hair for a moment before returning to finish the entry. He clears his throat again and continues with, “It was simply the best birthday I’ve had in all my hundred years. And the best part of all was the homemade cake, which my girl made with equal parts chocolate and love.” Another snicker escapes him, though it chokes and sputters in his throat as he reads the next sentence, uttering slowly, “and then wore like a nighty so I could lick icing off her thighs all night long.”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky imagine #marvel fanfic #bucky barnes imagine #avengers fanfiction #bucky x oc #Bucky Barnes

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whitherliliesbloom · 4 years

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since they're going around, do you have any pregnancy headcanons for Illya? (you can delete this if it makes you feel uncomfortable, sorry!)

*Interrupts my butler au and nyooms to my inbox real fast*

SO I SEE YOU’VE CHOSEN DEATH. Placed under the cut because this is long. Seriously. I’ve broken the headcanons into sections. Some 5.3 spoilers under the birth section due to mentions of a certain someone.

Realization and breaking the news to friends

Among their friends, Illya and Alphinaud are probably one of the last to get married but ironically, the first to have children. Because they’re the type of couple who has like 20 years of their future planned ahead of them. Communication is extremely important to them, and long before they even got married they’d already discussed having children.

Having a baby was on their ‘to-do’ list right after moving into a new home and also making sure the timing is right that no world ending threat might cause having a baby to become an inconvenience.

So when Illya starts to feel symptoms she honestly isn’t even surprised. She’s more ecstatic than anything. Given her experience with being a medic, she can also roughly tell apart her morning sickness from a common cold or food poisoning. She does go to a chirurgeon to double check though, and her suspicions are confirmed.

She surprises Alphinaud with the news by sewing a tiny onesie version of his trademark suit and gifting it to him in a present box while he’s working.

Alphinaud planned for this but he still can’t help but feel his stomach do flips when he figures out what her gift means and he grabs her into a hug only to quickly pull away “ah- I should be careful from now on, I’m sorry!”

They tell the scions and they celebrate the news together. Krile offers to personally monitor Illya’s condition and Tataru won’t stop crying throughout the party.

Illya travels back to the First and announces the news to her and Alphinaud’s friends of Norvrandt. Chai Nuzz was fortunate enough to stop his wife from crushing Illya in a hug by reminding her that she’s carrying a child. Dulia Chai is quickly reduced to tears when Illya gives her a handwritten letter from Alphinaud asking her to be the baby’s godmother. Ronitt offers to build Illya an automaton that would serve as an automatic baby walker but she refuses his offer. The pixies seem to already know Illya’s pregnant before she even tells them, most probably due to word from Feo Ul, who promptly scolds their darling sapling for keeping the news secret from them until now. Seto is horrified that Illya walked all the way to see him and gave her a flight back to the crystarium. Ryne is overjoyed and asks if she could be the baby’s big sister, to which Illya of course agrees.

Though unfortunately, Krile asks Illya to refrain from traveling back to the first anymore especially during her late stages of pregnancy. They don’t know if the baby will be able to handle the travel well especially when it starts to develop a solid body and soul of its own. Illya explains this to her friends, and they all understand.. though Dulia Chai does request for a painting of the baby from Alphinaud after Illya gives birth.

Before Illya could make the traverse back to visit her parents in their homeland, she is surprised by their visit. Alphinaud had apparently scheduled and prepared their voyage over to Eorzea to visit Illya as a surprise, and Illya can’t hold back her tears of joy. Cocona too, is reduced to tears but tries to hold it back. Lachlan is just jolly and excited to be a granddad and tells Alphinaud and Illya that he’s proud of them.

Cocona and Lachlan stay at their home for a few days and before they return to their farm, Lachlan crafts up a little baby stool with his carpentry skills.

During pregnancy / preparation

Even when pregnant, Illya is a workaholic. She’s absolutely forbidden from fighting but she still actively works her shifts at infirmaries and sneaks out once in a while to attend to injured soldiers. She also does chores, much to Alphinaud’s chagrin. Against his insistence, she still cleans the house and cooks their meals, but she leaves the heavyweight stuff to temporary helpers Alphinaud hires.

When the two aren’t working, they’re actively preparing for the baby’s arrival. Illya by sewing as many onesies, towels and beanies she possibly can.. and Alphinaud by buying an indescribable amount of supplies. They have a whole storage room dedicated to baby nappies, wipes, formula and food. He doesn’t listen to Illya’s scoldings. Surely a ceiling high worth of diaper packs isn’t enough.

Illya’s a lot more picky about her diet and the 9 months she’s pregnant is the longest she goes without eating her signature black blossom peppers. Even she knows that it might be hazardous to her baby. Her weirdest craving consists of a stick of steamed celery dipped in Ishgardian tea. She’ll swear upon her life that it tasted good to her at the time.

They also begin to prepare a room for the baby, Illya pasting glow-in-the-dark stickers of stars and birds on the ceiling and they paint the walls a bright baby blue with clouds together. They line the baby’s bed with layers of the best blankets Illya could afford to sew and plushies of themselves. There are plushies of the scions lining the shelves above the cabinet too. Of course, Illya has a ton of potted flowers in the room.

Of course, they begin baby-proofing the house too and Illya has to ask Alphinaud to get a lock fixed on the door of their armory. They have a personal aetheryte installed in their garden which only they and their trusted companions can attune to. Illya crafts a baby bracelet with a tiny aetheryte charm attached to it that she plans to give to her baby, so that she and Alphinaud could warp to their side at any thing.

Alphinaud and Illya do A LOT of reading to prepare themselves, they’d often pour through hours and hours worth of information in order to educate themselves on what is best for their baby.

Alphinaud loves pressing his ear against Illya’s belly and talking to the baby, and they both read a lot of books out loud. They often fall asleep on the couch together, wrapped in a blanket with Alphinaud’s head against her belly and her hand brushing his hair.

Illya also sings lullabies to her tummy a lot, which inevitably ends with Alphinaud falling asleep on her lap. If she isn’t singing to her tummy, she’s humming while doing something else like knitting or reading.

Illya takes a lot of walks and makes it a point to do light exercises even while pregnant. She was told that it’s good for expecting mothers to do so, for both the baby and to hopefully lessen labour pains. Alphinaud asks Illya to not do it unless she has somebody accompanying her but of course she doesn’t always listen.

The baby’s first kick causes Illya to freeze completely in place and Alphinaud panics when he sees her just standing there. He nearly runs to call the chirurgeon but Illya just stops and giggles as she stops him. “No, no. It’s okay. I just.. felt a little nudge.” Alphinaud drops to a knee and immediately presses his hand against her belly to feel yet another kick. And to say he’s over the moon would be an understatement. He scoops Illya up and kisses her forehead.

Word about the warrior of light’s pregnancy starts to get out and they are sent hampers containing gifts as well as a lot of congratulations fan letters. Some noteworthy gifts are a doman tea set along with a note that explains how it’s good for rejuvenating expecting mothers, tiny scarves and mittens with the Ishgardian emblem sewn on them, kupo nuts, medical supplies and flower bouquets from the elder seedseer herself.

Alisaie often stops by to accompany Illya. ‘Accompany’ is just another word for babysitting, really. Alphinaud expresses worry for Illya’s insistence to keep working even while working and for once, Alisaie completely agrees with her brother. Illya’s not even allowed to hold a broom while Alisaie’s around. They also get several other visits from others.

When Rielle and Sidurgu visit her and Sidurgu is visibly awkward when he sees Illya dressed in maternal clothing and stuck on the couch under a disgruntled elezen woman’s watch. Usually when he meets Illya, she’s in a full suit of armor.

Melkoko drops off lunchboxes on the front door and doesn’t extend her visit much out of fear of bothering Illya’s rest. Illya goes to visit Leveva, who unsurprisingly already foretold of Illya’s pregnancy and congratulates her by giving her a set of supplements she’d prepared before hand. Sylphie and Getty surround Illya and begin to bombard her with questions when she visits them at the conjurer’s guild. Redolent rose is too busy to visit Illya, but has his best set of baby sized berets sent over to her home.

PLOT TWIST

When it came time to ask about the baby’s gender, they were about to go visit the chirurgeon when Krile stops them and notes that... there’s two separate aetheric bodies in Illya’s belly.

Y’shtola and the chirurgeon confirms it - they’re having twins. A boy and a girl.

Alphinaud’s panicking because he thinks the supplies he bought isn’t enough and Illya has to beg him not to order yet another 5 years worth of supplies. They compromise and go for 2. Their storage room still has a good amount of baby supplies even after the twins outgrow needing them.

They begin making preparations to welcome the second baby, with another baby cot, Illya crafts another set of baby clothing and a second aetheryte bracelet and of course, even more vigilant babysitting from Alisaie. They prep the nursery with even more plush toys, though Illya suggests that they save room so she can sew plushies of their babies afterwards too.

Illya’s belly really starts to expand and feels heavy as a result of her carrying twins and it’s difficult even for a workaholic for her to bring herself to walk for long periods. She’s stuck at home during the last two months of her pregnancy as a result. She sometimes vomits and loses her appetite, and at other times she eats a whole lot more than she usually does.

Illya has difficulty sleeping, and suffers from back pain and when the babies stretch, she also feels slight pain in her ribs and it’s led to a lot of late night moments of panic from Alphinaud. She assures him that she’s fine though. Alphinaud gives her a lot of massages and brings her tea and snacks when she gets the munchies.

Alphinaud begins to work a lot harder and does lots of overtime on his work so that he can spend more time at home with Illya after she gives birth.

They have a bit of trouble picking out names because they hadn’t exactly expected to get twins. But they eventually settle for Ipheion and Eulalie Leveilleur, both named after flowers.

IT’S BIRTH TIME

Illya’s water breaks while she’s baking cookies and she drops the tray of them onto the floor and sends Alphinaud running out of his office. He calls the linkpearl to the chirurgeon as calmly as he can and he seems to be cool as ice even when he’s carrying Illya out to the garden but Illya can tell from his arms that he’s shaking. Alphinaud’s read about this about a hundred times already but he still can’t shake how terrified he is now that he’s finally having to confront the process.

Alphinaud refuses to leave Illya’s side for the entirety of her labor and even before that. By Krile and Alisaie’s request, he also calls them to inform them of Illya going into labour and they quickly rush over.

He holds Illya’s hand and tells her that it’s okay and reassures her that she’s doing well. Her labour pains last significantly longer due to having twins. Illya’s pain tolerance is extremely high, but childbirth is on a completely different level and Alphinaud curses the twelve for not being able to do anything to lessen the pain for her.

Alphinaud wipes Illya’s sweat with a napkin and his throat grows parched from how much he talks to her.

The baby boy is the first to be delivered and Alphinaud is given the baby to hold, but he can’t bring himself to celebrate just yet. With his free hand, he continues holding Illya. By this point, they’re both thoroughly exhausted and Alphinaud’s hand is numb from how Illya squeezes him but they press on until she finally delivers the girl.

Illya passes out for a brief moment but regains consciousness to find her two babies wrapped up in Alphinaud’s arms, and she can’t help but to burst into tears. They each carry one, and Alphinaud is speechless. He’s a man of much eloquence but even he can’t describe the sheer joy of what he’s feeling at the moment.

Alisaie also begins crying when she sees the infants for the first time but she’s not crying, she swears!! Krile checks on Illya’s vitals very very thoroughly and insists that Illya rest, which she does. She ends up sleeping for a good 10 hours until she wakes up and asks to hold her baby immediately.

The scions visit the new parents one by one so as to not disturb them too much and all give their blessings to them and their newborn twins. Y’shtola in particular notes that their aetheric bodies are healthy and also surprisingly stronger than most newborns she’s seen. G’raha and Alisaie argue over who each of the babies resemble more. Tataru enters the room carting a trolley full of food and supplements for Illya to eat. No more cooking until she’s fully recovered - and she does mean fully. It’s the first time Illya agrees to finish her archon loaf.

Alphinaud often falls asleep on the chair next to the bed with a baby against his chest.

When they finally get to go home with the babies, they are almost by their babies’ sides 24/7.. not that it would be hard for them too especially with many sleepless nights and baby cries awaiting them.

They celebrate the twins one month anniversary by inviting their friends over and they are given lots of gifts. Alphinaud asks Estinien to be their baby’s godfather. Estinien refuses.

The first time they bring the babies to the Rising Stones, everyone there just surrounds them and clamours to get a chance to hold the babies.

Illya sews plushies of her twins and they now permanently reside next to plushie Illya and plushie Alphinaud

#alphinaud leveilleur #alphinaud #illya skawi #ipheion #eulalie #we've come so far #headcanons #mine #ask #anon #THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THIS BOY DID THIS TAKE... A LONG TIME TO TYPE OUT BUT IT WAS SO FUN #Anonymous

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chocovira · 3 years

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Diwali chocolate hampers are a great way to send your Diwali greetings to your valued employees

Diwali is one of the most extensively renowned celebrations for Hindus. It is the moment when households get together, light up days, burst fire biscuits, and worship siren Lakshmi to develop excellent memories. However, the celebration is also associated with exchanging presents among families, pals, and colleagues. Organizations take it an outstanding chance to produce a long-lasting bond with their workers and customers by exchanging corporate Diwali gifts.

Merchant and online stores develop tempting present sets of sugary foods, dry fruits, chocolates, digital devices, and clothing to entice the consumers. These traditional Diwali corporate present suggestions consist of customized advertising products, customized and one-of-a-kind current items, and a considerable variety of Diwali gifts for corporates. Allow us to look at a couple of company presents items readily available in the market.

Edible Pleasures

It is the most preferred Diwali gift. Hampers of desserts, dry fruits, cookies, and delicious chocolate Diwali gifts come in numerous packs as well as sizes.

Crockery

For years, dishware is thought of as one of the preferred gifts on Diwali so, if any one of your colleague’s like’s difficult sodas, then some stylish glasses can be a great Diwali present concept.

Electronic Gadgets

This classification of gifts consists of electronic cameras, handy-cam, steam iron, toasters, microwave, digital kettles, and even more. Nevertheless, spending plan is a major worry while selecting these. Nonetheless, if a budget plan is not a restraint for you, after that, these can act as a valuable gift to your enjoyed ones.

All-natural Bath & Body Corporate Present Establishes

Most importantly, getting company gift collections from All-natural Bath N Body will certainly be a great concept. Present your staff members and also customers their skin's best friend that comes in attractive present baskets of sustenance. All the items are without parabens, sulfate, dangerous colorants, and also extreme chemicals. You can personalize these gift packs according to your requirement and also spending plan.

On top of that, you can add a note for your customers in addition to your logo design to your corporate gifts. Try these present collections and reveal your concern for your clients, clients, and staff members.

For more info :- Chocovira baby announcement hampers baby announcement chocolate boxes

#Chocovira

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craftconnectstudio · 7 months

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Craft Connect Studio offers a variety of Customizable gift hampers including Baby announcement gift hampers, Wedding hampers Website - https://craftconnectstudio.com/

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mahekmarcon · 1 year

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Baby Girl Gift Hamper Ideas

"Celebrate the Arrival of a New Baby Girl with the Perfect Gift Hamper Ideas Welcome the arrival of a new baby girl with a special and unique gift hamper. Show your love and blessings from the parents-to-be and the new arrival with a thoughtful and practical gift, including a sweet treat of chocolates.

#baby girl announcement hampers #birth announcement gift ideas #baby announcement hampers india

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ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes · 5 years

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Burned Part 26

Summary: Alfie Solomons is in need of a secretary. Tommy Shelby mentions a young woman in need of employment. From there the two step into a dangerous dance together.

Part 26: Theodore Solomons turns 3.

It was seven in the morning when Teddy Solomons came catapulting down the stairs. His nanny tried to keep up but he jumped the last two steps and stumbled into his father’s study.

Alfie chucked when the little boy slid across the polished wood floors in his socks. He stood and caught his son before he collided with Cyril who was nearly the same size as Teddy. “And here comes Theodore Solomons coming in fast as a bolt of lightning!” He grinned.

Elizabeth, the nanny they'd hired around Teddy's second birthday, came running in. "Sorry Mr. Solomons, tried to keep up with him." She panted breathlessly. Tending for the active boy was a work out every day.

"S'alright, Liz, I've got him. Go and get some breakfast." Alfie relieved her of her duties.

Breathless and wide-eyed, Teddy grabbed Alfie’s beard. “Daddy, it’s my birthday!” He chirped happily.

Alfie rested him on his hip. “Oh no, that can’t be right. You just had a birthday.” He teased and pretended to be serious. “Weren’t it just last month? Yeah, you ain’t any older, mate. Just a regular old day.”

Teddy just giggled. “No!”

“Yep, in fact, think it’s my birthday.” He chuckled and playfully threw Teddy over his shoulder, “What’d you get me, then?”

The toddler shrieked with joy. “Not your birthday!”

Every single day reminded Alfie how lucky he was. What sort of happiness he’d found on borrowed time. Teddy was the light of his life and vice versa. The bond between father and son was unbreakable. It reassured Alfie that when his time came, he made a lasting impression in Teddy’s life. One that would hopefully last.

Alfie carried Teddy out to the patio where Louise was enjoying the brisk fall morning. The two foxhounds they bought were outside with her. They were strays that she’d found wandering the pastures. Of course, Alfie couldn’t turn them away and figured they could be helpful. He managed to train them to be protective and to tag along on Louise’s daily rides on Paris. That way he could be assured that she had some sort of defense if she ever needed it even if Surrey was very tamed compared to London. Cyril was far too lazy to get the task done, especially at his age, and Alfie certainly wasn’t going to get on a horse and join his wife. So, they brought in the dogs and let Teddy name them. Thus, Baby and Ollie were welcomed into the Solomons household. Of course the latter being named after Alfie’s former assistant whom Teddy adored.

“There’s the birthday boy!” Louise exclaimed and the hounds began to yip happily. Cyril stood his ground beside Alfie, nipping at the pups if they got too close to him.

“Hold on now, ain’t his birthday.”

Louise gave her husband a playful look. “Don’t tease him. Of course, it is!”

“Oh, right, s’pose it is then.” He chuckled and handed over the now three-year-old to her.

“Hello, love, happy birthday.” She murmured to Teddy, kissing his cheek a few times.

Teddy giggled and clung to her. “I’m three.” He reminded her.

“Three?” Alfie sat down, letting Cyril sit between his knees. Baby and Ollie began to chase each other in circles around the yard. “No, no, can’t be three.” He shook his head adamantly and stroked Cyril’s ears. “Three is practically all grown up.”

Louise smiled and sat down at the patio table as well. “Next thing you know you’ll be dressing up suits like daddy.” But behind her smile, she knew there was a bittersweetness to the day. She’d woken up that morning even before Alfie. Sitting up in bed, she stared at the wall, dumbfounded. Her little boy was going to be three. Wasn’t it just yesterday that she was holding him for the first time? Wasn’t it just last week that she married Alfie? It couldn’t have been more than a year since she first met him standing outside of the bakery. Life moved so fast. She just wanted to grab the passing time and dig her heels into the ground. Try and hold it back from going by so fast so she could savor the moments just a little longer. Just one more minute. One more second.

~~~~~~~~~~

Teddy was spoiled on his birthday. They went for a drive to town to go shopping. He got to ride Paris, sitting in front of Louise in the saddle. His hands over hers on the reins as they slowly walked around on the mare, Alfie watching from the fence.

Before dinner, he opened his presents, enough toys to last him his entire childhood as far as Louise thought. But she couldn’t say no to Alfie who wanted to give Teddy things he could remember his father by. And it was such a gift seeing the little boy tear open the wrapping paper with a glow in his eyes. To see Alfie lying on his stomach, pushing a toy train around the carpet with Teddy crashing a toy car into the caboose.

Then to finish it off, a big chocolate cake. Just like the one made for Louise’s birthday every year at Inglewood. Teddy was delighted and by the time he’d had his share, he needed a thorough bath to wash off all the chocolate from his hair, face, and hands.

While Louise bathed their son, Alfie retired to the bedroom. Cyril plodded off to bed; ready to call it a day after keeping an eye on Teddy and trying to keep Baby and Ollie in line.

Alfie leaned down to pat the bullmastiff on the head. “Good, lad. Family man now, aye? Used to be just us bachelors ‘fore. Now, look at us.” He chuckled and straightened up with a pained groan. Every bone and muscle in his body screamed out. He was so tired. The cancer was wearing him down, slowly taking out every ounce of energy he had left. He feared the day he wouldn’t be able to keep up with Teddy.

He sighed and slipped his shirt over his head, tossing it to the hamper. He paused by the mirror on Louise’s vanity. Time really did seem to catch up with him. He wasn’t the rabid young man who was a captain in the war. Not the fit boy who could beat the ever living shit out of men twice his size. The clean-shaven man who only sported a bruise here and there.

But the war. That’s when he started to wear the burdens life had given him. Scars. Bullet wounds. Unforgettable bits of violence always marked into his skin.

The tattoos. To remember or perhaps to warn others. A man who wasn’t afraid of death and certainly wasn’t afraid of a little needle.

Now, what was left? He was thinner, thinner than he’d been since he was prepubescent. The cancer appeared to be eating away at him. He grew thinner and horrendous lesions littering his skin. Marks that made him sick to look at. He thought it was a wonder that his son wasn’t afraid to look at him and his wife still kissed him. Alfie felt as if he were a piece of metal that was slowly rusting away. Then, in the end, there’d be nothing left but dust.

The door opened and Louise stepped in. “Alfie?” She asked gently.

He was pulled from his thoughts and glanced over at her. “Yeah, love?”

She frowned when she noticed the preoccupied look in his eyes. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, ‘course. What could be wrong?” He forced a smile and went to finish getting changed for bed.

“Alright…well, Teddy’s ready to be tucked in.”

He nodded and walked over to the door, stopping to kiss her cheek. “Love you.” Most days, he couldn’t say it enough to her. He wanted his wife to always have that locked in her mind even when he was long gone. Always wanted her to know that he loved her more than life itself.

She smiled. “I love you too.”

~~~~~~~~

Alfie nudged open Teddy’s door and smiled. “Got all the chocolate off your face, yeah?”

“Yeah.” Teddy beamed. His dark hair still a bit damp from the bath, his cherub cheeks still pink from the warm water. “Mummy said I couldn’t keep any of it for later.”

His father laughed and sat down on the edge of his bed. “I’m sure Baby and Ollie would come in to lick it off you.”

“Ew!” The little boy wrinkled up his nose. “Yuck.”

“Yeah, yuck.” Alfie chuckled and reached over to move aside a piece of hair stuck to Teddy’s forehead. “Look at you.” He said quietly in disbelief. “Can’t believe how big you’ve grown.”

“Gonna be big like you,” Teddy announced happily.

“That right? You don’t want to stay this little forever?”

“No!”

Alfie smiled sadly. He knew he’d never see Teddy as a grown man. As much as he would love to see what a great person he knew his son would become. If fate was on time, he wouldn’t see that day. “Alright then, right, you can get bigger. Long as you never forget dad, aye?”

“Okay.” Teddy didn’t understand. Alfie was always there. The longest they’d been apart is when Alfie and Louise took a holiday one weekend. Ollie and Shayna watched the little boy while they were away. But other than that, Alfie had been there every day. Teddy couldn’t comprehend being without him. The little boy didn’t even understand what death was.

“Good.” Alfie kissed his forehead. “Love you lots. Sleep well, yeah?”

“Good night, daddy.”

“Good night, Ted.”

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upontheshelfreviews · 4 years

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Whenever I discuss Sleeping Beauty with someone who doesn’t share my enthusiasm for Disney, they have an irksome tendency to get it muddled with Snow White; their excuse being “it has the same plot”. I’ll admit, there are some surface similarities that even the most casual viewer can pick up on: a fairytale where a princess is forced into unconsciousness and wakes up with some necking, the comic relief and villain being the most beloved characters, a little frolic in the forest with animals, the antagonist plunging off a cliff, you get the idea. In fact, Sleeping Beauty even reuses some discarded story beats from Snow White, mainly our couple dancing on a cloud and the villain capturing the prince to prevent him from waking his princess. Yet despite that, Snow White and Sleeping Beauty are two wholly different movies shaped by the era and talents of the time.

I’ve discussed how Walt Disney was never one to stick to a repeated formula, no matter how successful it was. He must have noticed the parallels between his first movie and this one, but decided to make one crucial change for Sleeping Beauty that would forever differentiate the two: the look. We all know the traditional Disney house style: round, soft shapes, big eyes; charming as it was and still is, Walt was sick of it after several decades. Meanwhile, artists like Mary Blair and Eyvind Earle were producing gorgeous concept art that rarely made a perfect translation into the Disney house style.

Walt wanted to make a feature that took the pop artistry of their designs and made the animation work for it instead of the other way around – which brings us to another animation studio that was doing well at the time, United Pictures Animation, or UPA.

UPA didn’t have the kind of budget Disney normally had for their animated projects, but what they lacked in fluidity they made up for in style. Watch The Tell-Tale Heart, Gerald McBoing-Boing and Rooty-Toot-Toot to see what I mean. UPA were pioneers of limited animation, taking their scant resources and creating some striking visuals with bold geometric designs. Through this, they defined the look of 50’s animation. Though perhaps unintentional, Sleeping Beauty comes across as Disney’s response to UPA, or what would happen if UPA had the funds they deserved. The characters’ contours are angular but effortlessly graceful, defining their inherent dignity and royalty. And the colors, ohhh the colors…

Because of the immense amount of work required to animate in this difficult new style (and in the Cinemascope ratio, no less) as well as story troubles and Walt barely supervising the animation studio now that he had his hands full with live-action films, television, and a theme park, Sleeping Beauty had a turbulent production that lasted the entirety of the 1950s. For a time, Chuck Jones of Looney Tunes fame was set to direct. Director Wilfred Jackson suffered a heart attack partway through production and Eric Larson, one of the Nine Old Men, took the mantle from there before Walt Disney replaced him Clyde Geronimi. And even after that, Wolfgang Reitherman teamed up with Geronimi as co-director to get the film finished after no less than three delays. Also, Don Bluth got his foot in the door as an assistant animator for this feature, beginning his short-lived but impactful tenure at Disney. Did all this hamper the movie, or did they succeed in what they set out to accomplish?

Well, one of the reasons why this review took so long was because I had a hard time not repeating “MOVIE PRETTY” and “MALEFICENT AWESOME” over and over. Make what you will of that.

The story begins as most fairy tales do with your typical king, Stefan, and his queen suddenly blessed with a baby girl after years of wishing for a child. They christen their daughter Aurora (middle name Borealis, localized entirely within their castle) and throw a huge celebration in her honor. People come from all over the kingdom to pay homage to the princess and OSMKFKSBFHFGILWBHBFC…

Movie pretty…

MOVIE PRETTIEEEEEE…

John Hench, Academy Award-winning special effects man and art director, turned Walt on to the idea of basing the look of Sleeping Beauty on classic medieval artwork. Thanks to him and Eyvind Earle’s insanely detailed designs and backgrounds, this is one of Disney’s most visually distinct and beautiful films. A single still from this feature wouldn’t feel out of place up in The Cloisters.

Among the party guests is King Stefan’s old friend King Hubert (Bill Thompson) bringing his young son Prince Philip. Stefan and Hubert wish to unite their two kingdoms and formally announce Philip’s betrothal to the infant Aurora.

“We were going to do it during the second trimester, but we decided to wait until she was more mature.”

By the way, your eyes are not deceiving you. That is Aurora’s mother, Queen Leah, alive and well and named. And frabjous day calloo callay, she even gets some lines! The most common joke about Disney princesses is that they don’t have moms (even Ralph Breaks The Internet went out of its way to highlight that), so as a hardcore Disney fan who often has to put up with this generalization, Leah’s existence leaves me feeling vindicated.

Once that happy revelation is out of the way, we’re introduced to our main protagonists.

Oh, you thought I was referring to Philip and Aurora? Nonononono, my friends. THESE are the true heroes of Sleeping Beauty, the Three Good Fairies.

The fairies started off as one-note side characters sharing the same personality. Think pre-Ducktales-reboot Huey, Dewey, and Louie in dresses. But the studio had a difficult time giving Aurora more depth and was having a lot more fun developing the fairies. Naturally, they became so fascinating and appealing that more screentime was given over to them. Now the story’s carried by three wonderfully fleshed out ladies who are distinct in both looks and personality: Flora’s the pragmatic tradition-adhering leader, Fauna’s the sweet scatterbrain who mediates, and Merryweather’s the feisty young upstart.

With the plot now focused on characters who held a traditionally minor role, it’s easy to read this as a perspective-flipped version of the fairytale, but there’s more to it than that. Remember in my Clash of the Titans review how I mentioned the gods literally play chess using the heroes as pieces? I tend to view the main conflict of Sleeping Beauty in the same way. The Three Fairies and Maleficent are in a constant game of good vs. evil, moving Aurora, Philip, and the rest of the royals as pawns in their plans. There’s plenty of plotting and intrigue, with both sides constantly guessing and second-guessing the other’s next maneuver, and even if you’re already familiar with the story’s trajectory you’re still left on the edge of your seat as it inches towards the fiery climax.

And dare I say it but…the fairies and their power dynamic make this Disney’s most feminist film. Yes, really. You could argue that some of the other animated movies from the Renaissance and Revival period have more notable, stronger female protagonists, and many of the live-action remakes try to be woke without really grasping the concept, but consider this: The cast of Sleeping Beauty is mostly female, the leads aren’t objectified in any manner (that is if you count Aurora as a supporting character), nor does their gender factor into their competency, each one differs in age and body type, and most of them are working together towards a common goal as opposed to against each other. Name a movie in the past decade that does the same and still manages to be entertaining (no, really, I’d love to see it). There’s even one scene that unintentionally provides great commentary on the divides in the feminist movement, but more on that later.

Flora and Fauna bless the baby with beauty and song respectively which are accompanied by a short chorus and some sumptuous graphics. I don’t think I need to reiterate that when this movie goes extra with the visuals, it GOES EXTRA with the visuals. Next comes Merryweather with her gift. To this day, no one knows what Merryweather intended to give Aurora. Flora’s the most traditionally feminine of the three so her giving Aurora beauty comes as no surprise. By comparison, Merryweather is the most forward (or unconventional, depending on your point of view). I wouldn’t put it past her to favor Aurora with intelligence, or humor, or passion, or creativity or humility or confidence or decisiveness or physical fitness or great swordsmanship or telekinesis or ice powers or one million YouTube subscribers or comfort in her female sexuality.

Me personally, I think I’ve got the best gift of all:

“O Princess, my gift shall be…getting all reviews posted on time for once!”

Alas, before Merryweather can bestow such a wondrous quality upon the child, she’s interrupted by a horny party crasher.

Maleficent. The Mistress of All Evil. Chernabog’s right-hand witch. The Disney villain all Disney villains strive to be. She has it all – the looks, the poise, the power, the laugh, the cunning, the ruthlessness! She doesn’t even need to sing a song because she’s already awesome enough without one. Marc Davis’ gothic design cuts a fine figure and Eleanor Audley’s subtle icy voicework is trés magnifique. As much as I enjoy Audley as Cinderella’s evil stepmother, Lady Tremaine was but an appetizer in comparison to the four-course banquet of pure villainy that is Maleficent.

This leads to a small point of contention some viewers have with Maleficent in spite of hitting top marks elsewhere: her motivation. Putting a hit out on a child for not getting invited to a measly party? Not exactly compelling, is it? And yes, it isn’t a deep motive…is what I would say if I wasn’t well-versed in folkloric tradition. In the original fairy tale and the movie (though it isn’t outright stated in the latter), the party for Aurora isn’t just your average royal kegger, it’s a christening. Back in ye olden days, christenings were very big deals. To not receive an invitation to one was a grave insult, so not extending an invite to your semi-omnipotent magical neighbor is just asking for trouble. In the fairy tale’s defense, no one had seen the evil fairy for years and assumed she was dead, though I can’t imagine how nobody thought Maleficent wouldn’t find about it eventually.

“You dare to deny me, foolish mortals? Very well, then! I shall have my own christening! With blackjack! And strumpets!”

Maleficent is proof that sometimes you don’t have to have an elaborate backstory, a god complex, a tragic past or the unfortunate luck to be on the wrong side of a conflict. Sometimes all you need is some magic, brains, class, and a whole lot of flair to be a perfect, intimidating, and unquestionably iconic villain.

Basically what I’m saying is these movies never happened. Got it?

Maleficent is disarmingly polite over being snubbed, even after Merryweather bluntly tells her nobody wanted her to come. She even brought her own gift for the baby – sixteen years of life cut short by the prick of a spinning wheel spindle, because why change into a dragon and destroy everyone all at once when you can draw the torture out over an agonizingly long time and deliver the coup de grace in the prime of a young woman’s life? That’s how Maleficent rolls, baby. She could dole out capital punishment when she has to without batting an eyelid, but causing human suffering is her bread and butter.

Stefan begs the fairies to undo Maleficent’s curse, but it’s too strong for them. Flora and Fauna insist, however, that Merryweather can use her gift to lessen the spell’s potency. Now instead of dying from that fatal prick, Aurora will sleep until she receives True Love’s Kiss™. Stefan’s not one to throw caution to the wind though, so he orders all of the kingdom’s spinning wheels to be burned in the meantime.

I just pray his kingdom’s economy wasn’t based on textiles otherwise they’re screwed.

As the peasantry celebrates Guy Fawkes Day several centuries early, the fairies ponder their next move. They’ve been around long enough to know that removing spinning wheels from the equation won’t put a damper on Maleficent’s scheme. This scene is incredibly effective in establishing two things:

Maleficent’s near-omniscient presence in the film

How well the fairies’ differing personalities play off each other

Maleficent rarely miscalculates her opponents, and that guile puts her one step ahead of the heroes, making her one of the few Disney villains to nearly reach their goal. The only mistake she makes in the entire movie is trusting her henchmen to do their jobs when she isn’t directly supervising them, though that’s more on them than her. The different methods the fairies propose to deal with Maleficent fantastically illustrate what kind of people they are. Fauna believes she’s just a miserable soul who could be reasoned with if they talk things over. Merryweather would rather take the fight to Maleficent and turn her into a toad. Flora, however, is wise enough to know Maleficent’s too wicked to plead to, too clever to bargain with and too strong to face head-on, so their best course of action is to focus on protecting Aurora through any means necessary. Her initial idea is to enchant the princess into a flower (her namesake is her specialty, after all), but Merryweather reminds her that Maleficent enjoys creating bitter frosts just to kill her flowers.

“Well we could try that but stick her in a castle with a beast for a while…nah, that’ll never work.”

Yet never one to give up, Flora alters the plan so they’ll raise Aurora as a peasant girl out in the woods. This means disguising themselves as humans and giving up magic for sixteen years so as to not attract Maleficent, but that amount of time is like twenty minutes to the fair folk. Stefan and Leah reluctantly agree to the plan, and the fairies spirit little Aurora away from the castle that very night.

Sixteen years later, Maleficent is infuriated that her minions have failed to locate Aurora, even more so when one reveals that they’ve spent the whole time looking for a baby instead of a maturing woman. In an interview with the Rotoscopers podcast, Don Bluth called Maleficent a very flat antagonist because she surrounds lackeys dumber than her so she could be the smart one among them and, again, her supposed lack of motivation. But come on, let’s not entirely condemn the bad guys for having too much faith in their underlings. It’s difficult to find minions smart enough to carry out orders but dumb enough to stay unquestioningly loyal. Usually you have to register as Republican in order to get some.

Maleficent gets her anger out in the most therapeutic way – throwing lightning bolts at her orcs, awesome – then leaves the job of finding Aurora up to her trusty raven Diablo. We then finally see the grown-up Aurora herself, whom the fairies renamed Briar Rose as a nod to the Brothers Grimm version of this tale.

I know I’ve made the occasional case for the princesses from Walt’s era compared to the present day, and yet I have a hard time defending how…I don’t want to say bland. Bland would mean there’s nothing interesting about Aurora, and that’s a lie. She’s gorgeously designed and drawn, and even in her peasant dress she has an air of elegance and sophistication. She carries herself like a queen; her innate royalty reveals itself in her graceful movements. Mary Costa also gifts her with an excellent set of pipes. Hearing her song echoing through the forest is nothing short of magical. She’s a flower child who can talk to animals. She has dreams of escaping her adopted aunts’ loving but stifling care and being allowed to grow up, see the world, actually talk to people, and even find a life partner. She has some strong potential. It’s not that Aurora’s boring, she’s just not quite as developed as we’ve come to expect our animated female protagonists to be. I’m grateful for what we’ve got, but I only wish we could have more. What was her childhood like? How did she learn to communicate with animals? When did the fairies trust her enough to let her spend time out on her own? Did the fairies ever subtly teach her lessons in royalty through lessons and games? Heck, nobody bothers to keep her informed about Maleficent or her curse, and they act surprised when she’s shocked to learn she was a princess the whole time. I want to see what Aurora could have been like if she had known the truth already and what kind of steps she would take to defend herself. Blame the source material for this; it’s difficult to write a compelling main character when she’s supposed to sleep through most of her story.

The fairies send Aurora on a fetch quest so they can plan a surprise birthday party for her. Merryweather wants to bring their magic wands back out for the job, but Flora insists on taking no chances now that they’re in the home stretch. Fauna gets to live her dream of baking an elaborate cake (it’s thanks to her referring to a teaspoon as a “tsp” that I do it too), and Flora insists on making Aurora a gown fit for a princess using Merryweather as a dummy. And we also get one of the best burns in the Disney canon:

Merryweather: It looks awful! Flora: That’s because it’s on you, dear.

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The fairies fall into reminiscing over raising Aurora and get teary over having to let her go soon. I see where they’re coming from, they’re the ones who raised her for sixteen years. They must have so many fond memories, not to mention they put all that work into learning to properly raise a child let alone live like normal human beings seeing how two of them still can’t sew or cook without magic. I wonder what that was like –

No, NO, you CGI abominations DO NOT exist! Go back to the fires from whence you came!!

“Ugh, I’m gonna need something strong to expunge that from my eyes.”

There we go.

Aurora wanders through the forest, drawing out the usual bevy of cute woodland critters with her singing. She also catches the attention of a grown-up Prince Philip (Billy Shirley) who’s more dashing and considerably less blonde than he was sixteen years ago.

By this point, the Disney animators were far more confident in their ability to draw realistic but expressive leading men, hence Philip’s expanded role from the story. He’s also the first Disney prince to have a personality; not a terribly deep or defined one, but it’s a step up from his nameless plot-device predecessors. There are some signs of him being a hopeless romantic, he gets a few funny lines here and there, has a sturdy friendship with his horse Samson, and is fiercely determined when it’s time to kick some ass. He does have the same problem as Aurora in he randomly decides to stop talking for the rest of the movie once he reaches the midway mark (at least Aurora has the excuse that she’s sleeping for that remainder), but I suppose you could chalk this up as to him wanting to spite Maleficent with his silence.

The animals steal some of Philip’s clothes so they can pretend to be Aurora’s dream prince. Aurora plays along as she sings the movie’s standout song, “Once Upon a Dream”. Philip and Samson watch until he smooths his way into the dance. Once Aurora discovers the switch, Philip gets a little too up in her personal space for my liking, constantly grabbing her hand so she doesn’t run off and pulling her closer to him. Not as horrible as what the prince does to the sleeping princess in the original story (a questionably consensual kiss is a trifle compared to how the scumbag of a prince treats her there), but still a bit iffy.

“It’s a good thing my aunts taught me to never go anywhere without a loaded pistol taped to my back.”

But once Philip backs off a little and joins in her song, they both dance together and OEHSGBJSGBLL…

I think I’m going to need surgery to get my jaw off the floor back into its proper place thanks to this movie.

As per Disney tradition, Aurora and Philip’s waltz means the two are head over heels in love with each other. But when it comes time to finally exchange names, Aurora panics and runs away, though she sticks around long enough to tell Philip to meet her family at the cottage that evening.

Back at home, the party preparations aren’t proceeding as planned. Flora’s dress looks as good as my attempts at dressmaking, and Fauna’s dessert wouldn’t feel out of place on Cake Wrecks.

A fed-up Merryweather reads Flora and Fauna the riot act and convinces them to finally take up their wands again. This produces more desirable results, though Merryweather still gets stuck with cleanup duty.

Enchanting a broom to come to life and do your dirty work? I don’t see this going wrong in any possible way.

Things start to go south when Flora and Merryweather argue over the dress color and it escalates into a full-blown wizard’s duel. This gag was supposedly based on the animators’ arguments over what was Aurora’s proper dress color. I think they should have compromised and combined both colors to make purple, which would go lovely with Aurora’s violet eyes, but what do I know. I’m just the illustration major writing a blog. Unfortunately, while the fairies remembered to cover every door, window, and crack that could expose their magic, they overlooked the fireplace. The sparkly residue of Flora and Merryweather’s fight fly up the chimney, alerting Diablo to their hideaway.

Going back to what I said earlier about this movie providing some commentary on feminism, consider this: Flora is obsessed with pink, a traditionally female color, and she gives Aurora an attribute that is oft preferred in a woman but not the most important quality, beauty. Merryweather, on the other hand, is all about blue, a color usually geared towards boys, and she has much more common sense and practicality about her. Though Merryweather and Flora are able to put aside their differences in personalities and approaches for a common goal, it’s when they refuse to compromise and begin prioritizing which color – ie. which ideology and extension of themselves – that they want Aurora to step into that they lose sight of what’s important, and allow everything they worked for to collapse on itself. It’s played for laughs very well, sure, but if not’s symbolic of the dichotomy between traditional femininity and modern sensibility that tears apart the feminist movement then I don’t know what is.

The fairies manage to fix their messes in time for Aurora’s return. She’s thrilled with their gifts but shocks them all when she announces her new boyfriend is coming over for dinner. They come clean about her heritage and betrothal to Prince Philip, and Aurora runs up to her room in tears over the fact that she’ll never see her one true love again. That and her entire life has been a lie and she’s being carted off to meet parents she knows nothing about to marry a man she’s never met and rule an entire kingdom with no prior experience or knowledge. But mostly the true love thing.

Meanwhile, Stefan and Hubert are making wedding plans over wine with “Skumps”, the preferred toast between me and my friends. Also adding to the humor is a minstrel who keeps stealing sips until he literally drinks himself under the table.

This was also his way of getting through the Black Plague, co-opted by the rest of the world six hundred years later.

Philip returns and Hubert goes to greet him. He thinks his son is thrilled at the prospect of marrying Aurora but is disappointed to learn that he’s fallen for an anonymous peasant.

“At least tell me if she’s royalty in disguise so you don’t elope to Sicily!”

Philip rides back into the woods for his big date, leaving Hubert with the unenviable task of breaking the bad news to Stefan. As for Aurora, the fairies smuggle her into the castle and prep her for her homecoming. She’s still blue over having to ghost her forest hubby though, so the fairies give her some time to herself.

Biiiiiiiiig mistake.

So imagine you’re me, growing up watching this movie on tape on a television set with a very standard but not spectacular sound system. Then years later you download the remastered soundtrack and give it a listen while you’re falling asleep. You’ve got the whole score memorized, the volume is nice and low, it’s all good.

And then, just as you’re drifting off, you hear a ghostly voice singing in your ear “Auroraaa…Auroraaaaa…”

That reminds me, I haven’t had a chance to talk about the music yet, haven’t I? Forgive me for waiting so long to do so but my reaction to it is equivalent to the visuals. The score is taken straight from the Sleeping Beauty ballet by Tchaikovsky, the same composer as The Nutcracker, and it is lush, sweeping, sumptuous, just…

While George Bruns was mostly faithful with how the score was represented within the context of the ballet, at certain points he took the same approach as The Nutcracker Prince and rearranged the music order to underscore totally different scenes to staggering effect. The beautifully ominous music where Maleficent appears as a ball of green flame and leads the hypnotized Aurora to her doom? It’s from one of the ballet’s divertissements where Puss in Boots dances with his girlfriend. But tell me which is more fitting for a musical composition such as this – two cats pirouetting around each other in a crowded ballroom, or eerie pitch-black spiral staircases illuminated by green fire as a cursed princess inches closer to her dark destiny against her will?

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The fairies realize their error and frantically search the maze of secret passages for Aurora. Though the princess resists Maleficent’s commands for only a moment, they are still too late to save her from fulfilling the curse. Maleficent gloats and leaves the fairies to wallow in their failure. It’s made even worse as the merrymaking from the oblivious revelers below ring out while they put Aurora to bed in a tower and mourn over her. It’s heartbreaking: they raised and loved her as if she were their own daughter, and they still couldn’t protect her. Everyone talks about “Baby Mine” and Bambi’s mom as huge tearjerkers, but why is this scene constantly forgotten?

Stupid onions, stupid stupid onions…

Fauna and Merryweather can’t even begin to imagine how heartbroken Stefan and Leah will be, but Flora has a solution: put the kingdom to sleep along with Aurora until she is woken up. I understand her wanting to spare Aurora’s family some pain, but conking out an entire principality for god knows how long to cover up their failure? AND at a time when Europe was all about invading and conquering itself? Are we sure this isn’t just part of Maleficent’s overarching plan for revenge? This sounds more like something she would come up with instead of the leader of the good guys.

“So what happens if one of the neighboring kingdoms decides to attack while everyone’s sleeping?”

“Then we’ll put them and their armies to sleep, too.”

“And once Aurora is saved, both kingdoms will immediately wake up to find themselves thrust into a war they’re barely prepared for, is that correct?”

“Oh, you’re right, that’s a terrible idea.”

“Finally, thank you.”

“I’ll just turn them all into flowers.”

“THAT’S NOT AN OPTION!!!”

The fairies flitter about the castle grounds spreading their spell over the unwitting royal court, even putting the candles and sconces out. We have another reprise of the “Gifts of Beauty and Song” chorus now altered to sound like a lullaby, providing an interesting bit of symmetry between it and its earlier use in the film. Whereas it first underscored their blessings upon Aurora, now it plays as the fairies are giving the “gift” of sleep to the entire castle.

While Flora knocks out the throne room, she overhears Hubert muttering about Philip eloping with a peasant girl and she makes the connection. The fairies speed to the cottage just as Philip arrives there. But once again Maleficent beats them to the punch. Her goons ambush Philip and she watches them wrestle and bond him with fiendish glee.

You magnificent, kinky bitch.

Maleficent was only out to capture the one man who could break Aurora’s curse; the fact that he’s really the son of her nemesis’ allies is just icing on the cake. Flora, Fauna, and Merryweather resolve to rescue him from Maleficent’s fortress in the Forbidden Mountain.

Some movies reach the brink of greatness only to falter when it comes to the final act. Sleeping Beauty is not one of them. Everything that happens from the moment we slowly zoom in through the purple mist on to the Forbidden Mountain itself up until the storybook closes is perfection. The perfectly paced action, the animation, the music, Maleficent’s hideaway in all its decaying glory (I swear it’s like Jean Cocteau meets Frank Frazetta meets Giotto) all make for the climax of climaxes.

The fairies shrink to insect size and silently sneak through Maleficent’s creepy domain, narrowly running into guards and gargoyles at every turn. They traverse the stronghold until they find her overseeing a hellish bacchanalia in honor of her supposed victory.

“My old gaffer would have a thing or two to say if he could see us now.”

Soon Maleficent gets bored and goes to “cheer up” her captive. Then we have it: The Moment.

I’ve talked about this before, that one small, devious step further the villain takes to make themselves more heinous in our eyes. It’s the Wicked Witch taunting Dorothy with visions of Aunt Em. It’s the Beldam hanging Other Wybie’s remains. It’s virtually everything Heath Ledger’s Joker does. And it is this simple scene where Maleficent details what she plans to do with Philip. She spins “a charming fairy tale come true” of Aurora sleeping without aging, waiting for her prince to come to wake her. And Philip will escape the dungeon, ride to her rescue and prove true love conquers all – in one hundred years, when he’s a broken old husk of a man on the brink of death. DAMN. If you want to know why Maleficent is considered the best of all the Disney villains, it’s not just all her previously praised qualities, it’s her sheer sadism and the pleasure she takes in it.

The fairies enter and free Philip once Maleficent departs. The course of true love never runs smoothly though, so they arm him with the Shield of Virtue (licensed by Carefree Maxi-Pads), and the Sword of Truth to aid in his escape.

“So, why’s it called the Sword of Truth?”

“Anyone who’s subjected to it speaks only the truth…as they bleed out and die, of course.”

“Cool, cool. On an unrelated note, I think I’m gonna go to DC for my honeymoon.”

Diablo sounds the alarm and the Battle With the Forces of Evil kicks off with Philip slashing his Sword of Truth through Maleficent’s goons.

“I steal lunches from the break room fridge!” “I broke wind last Tuesday and blamed it on the dog!” “I cried like a little girl during The Good Place finale!” “I only wash my hands for NINETEEN seconds at a time!”

Philip makes his getaway on Samson and the music reaches truly operatic levels as Maleficent does everything in her power to end him. Yet Philip soldiers through it like a boss. Crumbling mountainsides, Maleficent hurling lightning from the sky and summoning a forest of thorns to block the way? Fuck that shit, he’s gotta go save his girl.

Then, as Philip cuts his way through the briars, Maleficent looks at her watch, realizes it’s No More Fucking Around O’Clock, zooms over to the castle, throws down the most intimidating challenge ever –

“Now you shall deal with me, O Prince, and all the powers of HELL!!”

– and with that, she takes her final form: a massive fire-breathing dragon.

Every Disney villain who’s gone kaiju in the final act owes everything to this gorgeous terrifying beast. The dragon is an awe-inspiring unholy fusion of style, power and darkness. There’s a reason why she’s the final boss in Fantasmic; the chance to watch a live dragon battle is too cool to pass up.

Speaking of battles, Maleficent’s dragon form was animated by Woolie Reitherman, who previously brought us such gargantuan monster clashes as the T-rex brawl in Fantasia and the escape from Monstro The Whale in Pinocchio. And when you have a dragon confronting a fairytale prince, well, you know what’s coming.

Maleficent backs Philip on to a cliff surrounded by flames, leaving him only one desperate shot. With a little extra magic from the fairies, he throws his Sword of Truth at Maleficent and it plunges right into her heart.

“I liked…Frozen 2…more than the first one…”

Maleficent’s spells die with her, clearing the way for Philip. He gives Aurora that wake-up smooch and everyone in the castle slowly rouses, owing their inexplicable simultaneous twenty-minute blackout to the unusually strong wine.

He can attest to that fact.

The royal families are happily reunited, and the film ends on Flora and Merryweather fighting over Aurora’s dress color yet again as she and Philip waltz together on the clouds using animation Beauty and the Beast would borrow thirty-two years later.

Sleeping Beauty is a movie I can never have on in the background because the moment I look up from my work I am spellbound by it. Do I need to elaborate on how this is one of the most beautiful looking and sounding movies Disney’s ever produced? Sleeping Beauty is the swan song of Disney’s first golden age of animation. For better or for worse, their animation process would switch to the rough, cost-cutting Xerox process starting with their next feature, 101 Dalmatians, and few films would reach Sleeping Beauty’s level of gorgeousness ever since.

Though a massive financial and critical hit on release, it wasn’t enough to make up for the monstrous production costs, not unlike Fantasia. Thankfully, home video sales revived interest and made it Sleeping Beauty of the top-selling VHS tapes of the decade, cementing it as a bonafide classic. It’s one of my favorites from Disney for its stunning visuals, gorgeous music, phenomenal villain and overlooked but great cast characters. Revisit it if you haven’t already.

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Artwork by Charles Moss.

Screencaps from animationscreencaps.com

March Review: Sleeping Beauty (1959) Whenever I discuss Sleeping Beauty with someone who doesn't share my enthusiasm for Disney, they have an irksome tendency to get it muddled with Snow White; their excuse being "it has the same plot".

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