#somehow I accidentally changed my tumblr to dark mode while typing this and I'm still not quite sure what I did

[peaches2217]

Anyone order some Expectant Papa Mario? No? Too bad, I'm in brainrot tonight.

I'm so sorry.

Mario's the kinda guy that will drop EVERYTHING to go coo and make faces at and play with any baby that crosses his path, so it's really no surprise that he starts doing the exact same with his own kid... before she's even born.

It starts when Peach excitedly calls him into the bathroom while she's getting ready to shower one night and shows him the absolute tiniest, least noticeable bump in her abdomen, so small it took getting naked and looking at herself in profile in the mirror to even recognize it. It's been a few weeks since they got the news, but this is when it really hits both of them that Oh, there's a baby in there. And suddenly Mario's kneeling down so he can kiss and press his cheek against Peach's stomach, talking to it like whatever's within can actually hear him yet — "Look at you! Already getting so big! You keep getting big and strong for us, okie-dokie? Mwah! Mwah! Mwah!" And Peach eventually has to push him away through fits of laughter because that area is way too ticklish for all that kissing. The nightly ritual of Storytime (amended to Daddy-Daughter Storytime when finding out they're having a girl some months later) begins the following evening and is religiously observed to the day of her birth.

The first time he feels their daughter kick, it's in response to Peach's voice. Mario spends the next several nights with his head against Peach's chest and his hand on her belly, singing lullabies and telling their baby all sorts of stories, jumping back and forth between English and Italian, trying to see what will get her to react to his voice. But Peach's voice is the only one to get a response out of her for a while, leading Mario to, of all things, start making bribes. He'll get her a whole stable of Yoshis, she'll never have to so much as touch a vegetable if she doesn't want, he'll have an entire castle built from scratch just for her, and all she has to do is kick his palm, right now. Peach tries to offer suggestions for his bribes, but he dramatically shushes her if she speaks any louder than a whisper. The offers are only valid if she kicks for him and him alone!

One such night, after much giggling between the couple but little success, Mario gives up for the evening, assuring his little albicoccetta that he'll spoil her no matter how stubborn she insists on being. "Papà ti vuole tanto bene," he tells her. And then he feels a nudge against his hand, just as he finishes speaking. He proceeds to tell her this exact phrase every night before bed for the rest of his natural life.

The bribes make a return as Peach enters her third trimester and their little girl's nighttime activities prevent her from getting a decent night's rest. It's annoying, yes, but still those nights always feel worth it; whether it's at 10 PM or 3 AM, Mario will get her a warm drink, help her get comfortable again, and proceed to offer impractical material riches to their baby in exchange for settling down for the night. Sometimes that's enough, and he'll ask Peach to remind him to add everything he's offered tonight to their ever-growing imaginary list of things they're obligated to give their child once she's born. Other nights, just hearing his voice won't calm her down, or Peach will be sincerely uncomfortable to the point of pain, or they'll both be too tired to keep up the comical charade, so he'll just hold his wife close and hum songs or mutter half-awake nothings to soothe both of his girls.

(One night in particular, he tries the gentler approach of kissing her belly and asking their baby nicely if she'll consider mellowing out. The resulting kick to the face is shockingly strong, enough that it actually kind of hurts; he and Peach just stare at each other in dumbfounded shock for a moment before collapsing into laughter. "Rude!" he chastises, wagging his finger at her stomach. "You're grounded! You're not allowed to leave your room for the next two months, capito?")

Mario's in an absolute panic by the time he reaches Peach's bedside, berating himself for leaving her side for even a SECOND, asking her how she's managing the pain, reminding her to breathe, he's here, he'll see her through this — but her water just broke like ten minutes ago and the contractions are easily manageable, so if anyone needs all that attention and comfort, it's him. After assuring him that she's alright, Peach takes his hand and presses it to her belly, where he quickly feels a feeble kick. "She's saying she can't wait to meet you," she tells Mario, and yeah, that's enough to calm him down for now. "You be good for Mama," he answers back with a cheeky grin. "Don't give her too much trouble, alrighty?"

The request ultimately goes unheeded, because it's another ten hours before it's over, and it's almost surreal to think something that small could cause so much agony. Half a day's worth of tension and fear and helplessness comes crashing down watching their daughter take her first breaths against Peach's chest, hearing her first tiny cries, and the rush of all these huge and conflicting feelings makes Mario's legs feel weak. "Combinaguai!" he finds himself saying, hovering a hand nearby but not quite close enough to touch her. She looks so fragile. "What did I say? 'Don't give Mama too much trouble!' That was a lot of trouble!" His teasing makes Peach laugh, and hearing that carefree laugh after she's endured so much suffering brings him so much relief that his throat closes up, and suddenly he can't say anything else.

"Hey," he manages a short time later, cradling his daughter for the first time while nurses see to Peach. She looks even smaller all swaddled and clean, fast asleep in his arms, and for the first time since he began talking to her, he's at a complete loss for words. That is, until she stirs at his timid greeting, blinking up at him with drowsy topaz eyes. Peach's eyes. And suddenly Mario has everything to say. There's so much he wants to tell her, so many promises he wants to make, so many stories he wants to recount, so many jokes he wants to crack, and he wants to do it all right now. But he doesn't even know where to begin. So, for the time being, he tells her the one thing his exhausted brain can actually put into words right now, choked between joyful tears and the heaviest, most overwhelming affection he's ever felt in his life:

"Ti voglio bene. Ti voglio bene. Papà ti vuole tanto bene."