#so i just decided to abolish it

[pokemon-researcher-alexander]

[it's package time again—in fact, there's two of them!!! both show up in boxes instead of bryony's usual paper bundles. the larger one is addressed to alexander and tied with a dark green ribbon. there's a blanket inside, crocheted out of thick, soft, dark green yarn with tight stitches, tall enough to fully cover him once it's unfolded, wide enough that some Pokémon can make themselves cozy too if he's willing to share. there's a rhododendron tree embroidered across the front of the blanket, wide and sprawling, taking up more space than not, with scattered petals at the bottom. the back is a bit of a mess and the branches are a little clumsily-done in places, but a lot of care has been put into the detail of the flowers; thicker yarn embroidered in for outlines, thinner thread for the detailing. look closely and there's a little leafeon sticking its head out from between the flowers! sitting on top of the bundle is a full-size instead of sample-size tin of slippery elm bark tea.

there's a handmade card, as usual, reading, "Hi Alexander! It turns out I WAS up to something suspicious!! I know your birthday is a mystery that I guess goes without celebration but I hope you will still accept this as some kind of equivalent gift. This was going to just be a throw blanket and then I realized maybe since you are so tall it is hard to find blankets that are the right size? I hope that is not presumptuous of me!! Thank you again so so much for the gift you sent me too, I know I said so before but it really is one of the nicest things anyone has ever done for me. All this time and I still hardly know what to say! I really really am happy I get to be your friend though. I think I am so lucky that I got to meet you. Take care ok? I am always here if you need me. ♡ Bryony"

the other package is addressed to Sage, with a magenta ribbon wrapped around the whole thing. inside there's a crochet Pokéball—done, of course, in magenta instead of red. it even opens, connected with magnets at the front, with extra loops of braided yarn at the top and bottom one could theoretically put paws through or grip with their teeth if a lack of opposable thumbs made opening it a struggle otherwise. the Pokéball is stuffed and lined around the inside edges so it keeps its shape, but hollow inside otherwise. It's packaged with another tin, though, this one full of thin crocheted sachets in different colors with different floral patterns embroidered on them. each sachet has been filled with different dried herbs, matching the plants embroidered on the sachet, but there's a sheet of paper with a guide, too. the handmade card included with the whole thing says, "Hi Sage! Thank you very very much for the needles! That was so thoughtful of you. I made a little sachet for them and now my closet smells so fresh all the time! I thought you might like to have more nice-smelling things around too, but I was not sure what smells you might like best, so I picked out a whole bunch of herbs from the garden and thought I would let you pick! They should fit perfectly in the Pokéball, and maybe you can share the ones you do not use. I hope it is easy enough to open and close. If it is too tough let me know or get Alexander to tell me and I will try again ok? Take care! ♡ Bryony"]

I can say with absolute certainty that, not only is this not presumptuous, it is the best gift I’ve ever received. Too warm for a blanket this time of year, but I’ll put it to good use in the colder seasons. (I’ll also apologize in advance for all of the fur that’ll end up on it.)

Sage was a bit hesitant about his gift, since he hates going into his Pokéball so much, but one he realized it wasn’t a trap, he was all over it. I think the basil’s shaping up to be his favorite.

Thank you, Bryony.

[czolgosz]

it's kind of annoying how all three of the fl revolutionary factions are bad

[cryolyst]

i just watched panther chan's performance of sahā w jeremy and my god i love her vocals. like jeremy isn't a bad singer or anything and obviously it's her song so ofc she's got an amazing grasp on it but. her power. her range. the contrast in their voices. she sounds so good aughhh

[max1461]

Also consider this: when you get used to behaving in a particular way, it is hard to shift gears. I know this about myself. We grow up doing one thing and just keep doing it. This is a reason for extending people, as I've mentioned before, a significant amount of grace for wrongdoing that is culturally normalized. It takes time, effort, and information to live intentionally, to really choose how you will behave, and we all have limited access to time, effort, and information.

But one consequence of this is that someone who is a controlling parent when their kids are kids will often continue to be controlling when their kids are grown. And even if you defend a straightforwardly different standard of abuse when it comes to child-adult relationships than when it comes to adult-adult relationships, by normalizing certain kinds of controlling behaviors on the part of parents you are also, I suspect, increasing the risk of controlling relationships between a parent and their adult or young adult children.

You can caricature the child liberation stuff as like, "they want to abolish bedtime". I don't think it's abusive if a parent like, sets a bedtime for their 3 year old or whatever. You know, young kids need regular sleeping routines and so on. But if you're not thinking intentionally about parenting, and about the moral imperative to respect your children's autonomy, then bedtime for your 3 year old becomes a bedtime for your 10 year old becomes a curfew for your 17 year old, etc. etc. Because as a parent you have all the power, and so you are the one who must decide to stop, you are the one who must actively decide to relinquish control when the proper age is reached. And people hate relinquishing control.

I contend that many of the most normalized forms of child abuse occur when behaviors that are appropriate for a young child, who truly needs a more active and involved caretaker, are thoughtlessly extended (or indeed extended out of anxiety) to older ages when a young person has started need and to express their need for autonomy.

[decolonize-the-everything]

Have you heard of the American Indian Movement? Did you know natives had a movement/group in the 70's-80's dedicated to native liberation?

No? It's a part of history they don't teach you in school, but come close and look so I can show you.

Watch this, it's not long I promise. This is Russel Means, a prominent native activists and one of the leaders of AIM. AIM sought to help natives with things like tribal sovereignty, housing, healthcare, and food security.

Here he is testifying to the US government.

The transcript ^

A little excerpt of the end:

"The American Indian people’s right to self-determination is recognized and will be implemented through the following policies:

The American Indian individual shall have the right to choose his or her citizenship and the American Indian nations have the right to choose their level of citizenship and autonomy up to absolute independence;

The American Indian will have their just property rights restored which include rights of easement, access, hunting, fishing, prayer, and water;

The BIA will be abolished with the American Indian tribal members deciding the extent and nature of their governments, if any;

Negotiations will be undertaken to exchange otherwise unclaimed and un-owned federal property for any and all government obligations to the American Indian nations, and to fully -- and to hold fully liable those responsible for any and all damages which have resulted from the resource development on or near our reservation lands including the -- including damages done by careless and inexcusable disposal of uranium mill tailings and other mineral and toxic wastes.

I want to thank you, gentlemen, for inviting me here. It's been a high honor, especially since I'm the only one invited here today to testify that doesn't receive money from the federal government. Also, I want to make -- I was introduced as a former founder and leader of American Indian movement to the tribal chairwoman that you have here, a former associates for the American Indian Movement back in the days when we were gross militants and so I just wanted to let you in on that, that the American Indian Movement is a very proud continuing part of American Indian Society.

Thank you."

"The American Indian Movement remains based in Minneapolis with several branches nationwide. The organization prides itself on fighting for the rights of Native peoples outlined in treaties and helping to preserve indigenous traditions and spiritual practices. The organization also has fought for the interests of aboriginal peoples in Canada, Latin America and worldwide. “At the heart of AIM is deep spirituality and a belief in the connectedness of all Indian people,” the group states on its website."

[ladyelissarose]

——————— ☠️

“Oh Sergeant- been looking for yo- oof! hey- HEY!!”

SLAM!!*

Simon stood shocked with his arms out at what he just witnessed and encountered, you running away with your face in your hand while the other pulled over the hoodie you wore. You didn’t even spare him a glance and basically ignored his words as you dashed by him and locked yourself in your little room after aggressively slamming the door.

Soap peeked out of his room that was across yours and frowned when he saw Simon by your door,

“Whatcha do to piss off da lass eh?”

Simon turned into Ghost quickly at the false accusation and grunted,

“I did nothing. Now piss off Soap.”

Soap frowned harder as he muttered while closing his door, not having the balls to press further as Ghost looked displeased.

“Gee sorry Lt.”

After what felt like hours to get through your door without breaking it down, Simon had finally walked in after threatening to toss away your candy stash from his office. And now he stood before you with his arms crossed, looking down at your seated figure holding yourself tightly.

He could tell you were beyond upset, maybe even angry, as you had refused to speak to him fully and didn’t look at him as you usually did. But Simon’s concern for you had him pushing your buttons, unrelenting as he asked for the fifth time.

“What happened Sergeant?”

Silence filled the room for a bit before you

finally replied, still holding a tone of hesitation,

“they... they messed my hair up.”

Placing his hands on his hips Simon kindly insisted, hoping to get more out of you now that you had decided to talk,

“Alrigh’... let me see your face please when you speak, can’t hear ya behind your hands.”

Of course he could hear you clearly, but he wanted to see your face, let you know that you could trust him, even in your most vulnerable state. Seeing you didn’t move he pressed on, growing a bit inpatient now,

“C’mon Sergeant... don’t have all day. That or I’ll-“

Huffing and using your hands to pull down the hood you then dropped them to your lap with a tantrum like behavior as you cried,

“Ok look!! There it is-“

Lifting a ‘threatening’ finger at you Simon warned as he stared you in the eye,

“Hey! Watch your tone with me Sergeant.”

Yes he knew he had been putting pressure on that grenade of yours, but he had trained you hard to conceal the anger in order to not bust at the wrong person and time. But maybe right now wasn’t the right time to exercise such, as you sunk into your chair.

And hearing that tone coming from your Lieutenant was enough to let your eyes tear up again and that bottom lip of yours jut out and tremble slightly, maybe you deserved to be called out, but damn you weren’t feeling up to taking it right now.

Simon felt upset as he saw your saddened state, so he let brown orbs leave your sad ones as he finally took in your ‘haircut’ or more like a ‘hair massacre’, growing even more upset as he found the cause of your state.

He could tell it was no little mistake that they had done, like a slip up or perhaps it was a bit uneven- Nope... they really had the audacity to shave off the left side and chop off the right to the top, and the bottom part was just a mess of tangles and chunks cut off. Who ever did it was an asshole 100%.

Simon face palmed as he thought of many ways he could abolish the fuck out of those shit eating assholes, but hearing your soft sniffle snapped him back to you.

You came first.

He then walked closer to you and sighed, reaching for the top of your head and with his pointing finger he moved it a bit to examine it.

“What happened to your hair Sergeant?”

You hiccuped a sob while caressing what was left of your hair, wiping away some tears with your other hand.

“I-I told the girls to help me with a trim, and *sniff*.. they chopped it off and ruined it. Saying it was about time I had a change.”

Looking back into the tiny mirror you had there, you pouted at the sight of your hair all messed up and disastrous. One pride and joy you had was your hair, you had really liked taking care of it and making sure it was braided nicely and all.. and now? What about now that it’s all gone?

Simon knew about your pride in your hair and braids, or the neatly done buns you had up for missions. It was what made you, you... and he understood that. Simon knew what it was like to have something of him ripped away, like they stole a part of his identity, so of course... he could only imagine your pain.

But all he could do now was sorta fix it and assure you it’s all be fine soon.. soon once he fuckin’ breaks those assholes’ hands- hangs them from their hands- burns them- ties them and- ok.. yeah, let’s just say they won’t ever do it again.

Simon nodded slowly and hummed, rocking on his heels slowly as he dreaded what came next.

“Hmmhmm... ok, bring me my razor so you can cut it.”

Your eyes widened a bit but you replied nonetheless,

“ok...”

You knew it had to be done in order to let your hair grow back to normal, so sadly you went to a personal cabinet to look for the razor Simon preferred to use, it gave him the sharpest and cleanest cut, the shortest one too. You were a tad bit surprised he’d let you use his- but if he was going to supervise maybe that’s why.

Walking back to him you held it up close to his face, for reassurance that it was the right one. Simon glanced at it once and his eyes spoke for you, calm and affirming, it was the right one.

Like a defeated child you looked around your room for the nearest outlet, tears and your pout growing as the moment came closer.

Finally you had it connected and set, looking around confused wondering if you were missing anything, and thinking you weren’t, you were about to start until Simon held your wrist gently, causing you to halt for a second as you listened,

“Allow me?”

Looking up at him you saw the sincerity in his eyes, matching his tone. It was something so rare to see behind eyes that had seen death and hell, darkness and hurt.. but it made you feel somewhat better as you handed it to him,

“sure.. thanks.”

Taking it carefully he mumbled softly,

“don’t mention it Sergeant, now sit back and wait.”

Sitting back in your chair you played with your fingers as you waited patiently, while he prepped the area after discarding his gloves, grabbing a couple more items he needed quietly and gently. It was so different to see Simon like this, taking things slowly and being ever so gentle, unlike his rough tactics on field or his constant loud huffs he let out due to frustration.

He actually looked peaceful.

What was also very nice to see and feel during such a time was him mumbling softly at you everytime he was going to grab your head and move it, letting out a pleased sigh when you complied immediately and moved at his command.

“‘m gonna hold ya right here m’k?”

“Hold righhh- that’s perfect Sarge, don’t move.”

“I’m going behind ya ears, stay still... atta girl.”

“How’re we doin’ Sarge?”

“Hmm Hmm... almos’ there.”

Simon’s soothing Manchester voice could’ve put you too sleep, making you forget your nightmare of a day, and his gentle warm hands holding your head was making the memories and headache disappear bit by bit.

Who would’ve thought that such red hands were actually the hands of an angel? The voice behind the one that screamed at death was indeed soft and rumbling warm like a perfect motor on a winter night drive?

CLICK’

What shook you awake was when you heard out of the blue that click along with some proud proclamation,

“Aha! Look at ya Sergeant.. sporting my look. It suits you well- take a look.”

Simon pat your head and shook off any remaining hairs as you swallowed the lump in your throat and opened your eyes when you got the mirror from him. But shock was read across your face- not from seeing your new haircut- but the man behind you.

“Lieutenant?”

“Hm hmm..”

You turned around in your chair so fast you could’ve knocked the air out of you, but what actually took your breath away was the face now before you, the face behind Ghost.

There he stood in his glory, owning a few scars on his face, but they made him who he was, tiny freckles adorned his crooked nose and cheeks, his brown eyes appeared more bright without the dark masked shadowing over them, and his eyebrows matched his white lashes as so did his buzz cut hair. His lips shaped into a faint smirk as he gestured his head towards the mirror,

“Take a look at my work.. ‘is nice innit?”

Coming back to the moment you nodded dumbly and now looked in the mirror, smiling softly at your buzz cut. It was definitely new and extremely different to you, but the fact that Simon did it for you and it was like his haircut... that made you feel so much better, stronger even.

Raising a hand to feel the prickly feeling over your palm as you ran your fingers through your short hair, you chuckled lightly,

“It’s very nice Lieutenant.. thanks.”

Turning back to see him had your smiling fading a bit, as he had his mask back on already, concealing his Adonis sculpted face, but your smile lifted again when you heard a low chuckle escape his lips,

“Now we match Sergeant.”

“We do Lieutenant... but-“

“If anyone says a word about it they’ll hear from me, but I expect you to stand up for yourself first.. then I’ll knock their ass. Hear me?”

Standing up in front of his broad stature you promised, hoping to convince yourself that you would.

“I-I will Ghost.”

A gentle grip met your shoulder as he warned,

“I’ll find out if you don’t.. but I hope I don’t catch that... because I know you’re strong and better than that Sergeant.”

His reassuring words gave you a boost, like a cool ice cream after a long hot day, a comforting hug to ease the ache.

Spreading kindness wasn’t Simon’s best trait, his life made him a hard man, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t any good left in him at all, and whatever he did have left he made sure to let it out once in a while, so he could remind others and mostly himself, that he was human.

“Appreciate it Ghost..”

Simon gave you a short nod, his eyes twinkled a tad bit, as he leaned forward and planted a kiss on your head through his mask, letting you know he gifted a smile behind his mask. He then pulled back and gestured towards the door,

“Onward you go, and I’ll be keeping an eye on ya.. don’t back down.”

Heading towards the door walking backwards you saluted him,

“Affirmative sir!”

———————

Let’s just say, a few days later an odd occurrence happened? Some of the ladies had a lice infestation all of a sudden, and were ordered by the Lieutenant to shave their heads immediately in order to stop the spread amongst themselves. (Who in the hell knows how that happened..☠️

Also, you walked into your space one evening, and found a small box by your bed, containing the best hair growth products from England, with a lock and key so no one could get to it but you. And lastly a little note on top with a simple message.

‘If you ever need a trim, come find me’

(You didn’t have to guess who it was...☠️)

[bunji-enthusiast]

Pssttt, I heard you were looking for some ideas for the insomniac cat. I got a idea that's been cooking fresh off the stove for you. Catnap has been taking care of a child he found still alive after hour of joy. Simply because unlike most of the kids he would always see in playcare, they weren't scared of him when they first saw him. Following this for background information. The day of the hour of joy was their first day in playcare, so they first saw him all covered in blood after the events of the hour of joy, and yet the reader just ran up to him cutely calling him a kitty as they cling to one his fluffy long legs. Giving catnap a soft spot for them, leading him to start taking care of the child. In present day catnap starts to notice how they haven't slept in days, the cat starts getting slightly concerned so he decides to use the red smoke on the reader so they would sleep. Though for the sake of the idea he isn't aware of the nightmares that the red smoke gives children, so when they start kicking and crying in their sleep the cat starts to panic slightly in his own way while trying to wake them up. Using any means he can to, once they wake up catnap just curls up around them like a fluffy protector vowing to himself in his head he won't use the red smoke on them again. I'm sorry this is long just had this idea cooking in my head for awhile, I hope your having a great day!

Trying To Dream

Note || oh this punched me in the GUT.

WC || 1,086

Sypnosis || In trying times, a cat does the best he can.

It was quite strange, since he had first found you. By no means was CatNap a stranger of caring for children, but you were uniquely different. You were just that, a child with no actual perception of the reality you had been faced with. At that, he felt a pang of guilt for suddenly plunging you into this place without any adult caretakers first and foremost. But he felt they had greatly deserved their place, to rest in the Hour Of Joy. 

When it had all taken place, he himself had rampaged alongside the other toys on his level. Even abolishing the Heretics that went against the Prototype’s rule, he simply was very thorough, cats are naturally akin to being able to notice and spot things. Not a single human soul had escaped his sight.

Yet it seemed he was practically proven wrong when you appeared in front of his very eyes, despite being covered in blood – you were enamored by CatNap.

CatNap’s tail swished and flicked about, prowling right behind his trail as he stopped suddenly in his designated tracks, hearing something out of his vision. “Kitty!” He looked down to see you running up to him, clinging to one of his elongated legs. He was confused for a moment, yet you appeared to be so adorable in his eyes.

Completely oblivious to what had occurred it seemed, you only saw CatNap. A very large kitty, but someone familiar to you. You wanted to cling to that warmth, the familiarity as you were a little nervous and scared before.

CatNap sets everything right for you, to your tiny little mind. Just a small child full of emotions, he felt so strongly in return. A tiny corner in the room of his hardened heart had grown soft, he grew soft at the sight of you. An instinctive familial urge in him to actually want to take care of you.

His head drew closer to the ground, hoping to get your attention. You giggle and smile, keeping onto his fur, instantaneously reminding him of all the children that he saw that came and went in Playcare. He wanted to protect that laughter, that absolute perfect smile of yours. 

You laugh, shuffling over to where CatNap’s head had hung, patting the area around his mouth and eyes. He wiggled and shuffled his head just a bit, hoping to at least draw some sort of reaction out of you (just so he can realize he wasn’t dreaming), “Oh, you look funny Kitty!” You grin, hands clamoring to his neck now. CatNap knew he was sure of it now, you didn’t seem to be panicking or in distress. Nothing of the sort he could indicate, you really were just happy to see him, simply it may be because of the fact he is a cat. By the way you react to him, you really liked cats, so this was an advantage on his part.

You weren’t scared of CatNap at all, that he was grateful for internally. Cause good grief, some memories of the children he had put to sleep before had left them with a bad impression of CatNap.

He didn’t want that happening with you.

CatNap’s tail stretched and stretched, wriggling its way over to you. You giggle at the funny sight, sitting down on the ground as you try to catch it, though it seems to have caught you instead. The tail wrapped around your waist, lifting you up with easing and laying you on the large purple kitty’s back.

“Ahaha! Maybe I should call you…” You pause for a moment, leaving CatNap to be silently concerned due to the length. “Stretchy kitty!” CatNap internally shrugs, leaving no room to be made as he began walking with you on his back, he was painfully aware of you as he didn’t want you falling off on accident.

CatNap in earnest has lost track of how long he had been taking care of you since you two had first met, you really had taken a liking to him.

Yet he took notice very quickly of the lack of sleep you didn’t have for the past few days, not getting the proper sleep and care a human needs can affect one detrimentally. He knows this too, remembering this from experience.

CatNap slinked through the entrance to his room, seeing that you were still at his bed doing your own things. Right now, you were drawing with crayons on a piece of parchment paper that he could find that wasn’t completely ruined. You were quite happy, content.

Your eyes seemed to be so sunken, your energy was low however. CatNap figured it was one of those days where you had a sudden burst of energy to do things. He figured he can help, CatNap knows his gas can put people to sleep.

So that is what he had absolved for, releasing the gas right around the room in your general vicinity. You had gotten so used to the feel of his presence you never looked up at him, just continuing to draw until you had felt very sleepy. Eyes closing and limbs go limp as you fell sideways, CatNap caught you with a swift movement of his tail, laying you gently on his bed.

He quickly went to find a blanket to cover you with, gently draping it over your small form. For a moment, you were silent, finally peaceful to actually get some sleep for the first time in days. Only then did CatNap have the morbid realization of what the side-effects of his Poppy Gas does.

All was peaceful for a good thirty minutes, until a cry broke him out of his nap. He looked around, then noticed your little legs and arms flailing about, not violently but noticeable enough to begin drawing concern from CatNap. He felt a pang of guilt bubble in his chest, nudging you almost roughly enough to get you to awaken. 

Your cries was something he didn’t want to hear again, his own gas caused you nightmares at the risk of just wanting you to actually get some sleep. 

“Ah, kitty!” You sniffle, rubbing your eyes as you cuddle up to CatNap. He in turn returns the sentiment, ears somehow pinned back just possibly enough to understand the emotion. CatNap folds in on both his front and hind legs, laying down completely.

From then on, there wasn’t a chance he was going to use the gas on you again. 

Not if it meant nightmares.

[heartlaboratory]

In the short movie represented, taken from the university archive, you can look at a curious experiment that took place in the firs years of the '900, when physiologist were working on the relationship between electricity and the human body. A brief report accompanies the movie. Colette De La Beatrix was the countess of a small town called "Holy Lady in the Countryside", she was married to a professor of that time. Unfortunately at the age of 32 she suffered a terrible accident while riding her horse. She was embossed down from the saddle and the horse stomped her right in the center of her chest, destroying the frontal part of her rib cage. She was saved miraculously by the university's surgeon that had to remove her sternum leaving her most vital organ covered only by a thin layer of skin. Usually she wore an iron plate to cover and protect her exposed heart. Her husband convinced her to take advantage of the events and participate in his studies about electrophysiology. She happily took part to them and once results were gathered they decided to show them to the other professors and film the experiment. The movie starts with the countess sitting on a woodden bench. her entire chest is exposed and the shape of her beating heart is clearly visible. A rudimental microphone, linked to a gramophone, is held by a belt on the center of her chest and picks up her heartbeat. Two electrodes are attached on the oppiside sides of her heart linking the organ with what was probably a battery. The report is divided into different parts:

Initial- Countess initial heart rate: 85 bpm Showing the audience her condition and her synus rhythm at rest. Single electrical pulses are charged on her heart to demonstrate electricity can start artificial systoles. Audience is encouraged to feel the countess' carotid pulse to further proove the experiment effectiveness. This part ends with a note hand-written. "remember to tell the audience to never directly touch her heart to avoid dangerous ahrrythmias".

Part 2- Artificial pacing at 120bpm The machine delivers a series of consecutive impulses to create an artificial rhythm. The countess's heart reacts to each pulse correctly contracting in a new manually-induced pace. Audience is encouraged to feel the countess' carotid pulse under the influence of the continuous pulses. NOTE: After the pulses are interrupted the countess' heart recovers its initial pace immediately.

Part 3- Reaching physiological limit, 187bpm To demonstrate total control on the countess' heart rhythm the heart is artificially paced at her maximum heart rate (220 - her age 32). electrical pacing can realize the same results as a strenuous physical effort. The battery completely bypassed her local pacemaker. Audience is encouraged to feel the countess' carotid pulse and look at her beating heart. NOTE: Frank and Starling were right, the artificial rhythm seems hard to sustain for her system. The fast her heart gets the less efective its beating becomes. NOTE2: Her heart takes some long pauses in order to recover.

Part 4- Beyond physiological limits 240bpm The domain over her natural pacemaker is so absolute that its natural limit can be higly bypassed. The heart is paced at an innatural rhythm. Audience is encouraged to feel the countess' carotid pulse and look at her beating heart. NOTE: Audience report that just a very tiny wave of blood can be felt at her neck after each heart contraction. NOTE2: The countess's heart seems unable to follow each electrical pulse as some dyastoles seem abolished in a tetanus like manner. NOTE3: The procedure is interrupted as the countess lost consciousness for a brief period of time. NOTE4: Once the machine is turned off a long period of asystole is seen with subsequent ahrrythmias after the spontaneous pulsation restarted. Heart exhaustion? another hand-written part: "I should have never tried this on my wife"

What the report doesn't says is that countess Colette De La Beatrix died of sudden cardiac arrest few days late.

[thatsmybook]

Just rewatching the documentary and just before 4 mins in, Lisa is explaining to Omar her thought process for what will be the main dilemma/ crux of the show, and it made me realise what exactly Simon was saying when he broke up with Wille at the end of Episode 5. He was saying: I've seen what the monarchy does to you and how it hurts you, I've experienced it myself, so I have additional empathy for how that must feel for you. Also, I, too, am being hurt by it (see all of season 3 when he's not smiling with Wille). I thought I could try it out for your sake to see if I could handle it because you're worth it.

But after spending the birthday day with Prince Wilhelm and the Royal Court, he sees that it will continue to hurt both of them, and there will be no respite, things will only get worse. He has seen Wille get worse right in front of him on that day. It is poisoning Wille, and he is becoming someone he doesn't recognise. Simon decides that he does not want that to happen to either of them. The only thing he can do is leave the system so it can stop hurting him. Unfortunately, because Wille is entwined with Prince Wilhelm, it means he has to leave Wille too.

To me, by staying with Wille, Simon is condoning bad behaviour or the status quo by just going along with everything the Royal Court says while they both slowly deteriorate. So though he leaves Wille to save himself, he is also saving Wille because he is showing Wille that this is not alright, boundaries have to be put in place somewhere and Wille needs to start setting some boundaries for himself too. If Wille thought that Simon would stick around to support him and occasionally be someone he could lash out to, then he may not have felt the need to save himself from the monarchy. Because Simon is around to hold him up.

So for King Wilhelm truthers, Simon is required to know his place as an aid to the King, whilst suppressing his own pain and never putting pressure on the King by asking for help with his own issues. There is never a time when they would be equal in their relationship, even in private, because everything about Simon's values, ambitions, and passions would have to be deleted. King Wilhelm's needs would come first. This is what class does. It sets up hierarchies of certain humans' needs being more important than others and even that certain humans are superior/supreme to others. Therefore, to function, it needs lackeys who know their place to serve those on top. Hillerska, as an institution, is a mirror of Simon's relationship as a partner for the next king. Hillerska being closed is the equivalent of Lisa abolishing the monarchy. (By the way, there's a real-life incident of the 16 year old Prince of Denmark having to be removed from his elite school when issues of sexual abuse and other scandals came to light. This happened in 2022).

On a side note, this made me think about the Duke's role as consort and imagine that that would be Simon's role to model himself on. If we want Wille to remain as a Crown Prince and have his boyfriend, do we want Simon to become as bland and ineffective as the Duke is, where all of his focus is solely on the Queen's needs. Smoothing over any rough patches with innane conversation and totally neglecting and not 'seeing' his child. Simon deserves to be himself, as does Wille.

[lady-raziel]

I’m really getting to the point where I can’t even stand to have civil discussions with right-wing conservative people anymore because it’s just like there’s no end to the nonsense. I’m really very close to just making up fake absurd extreme positions just for the sake of it. “Well I believe marriage should be between a MAN and a WOMAN-“ well I believe marriage should be illegal. “Transgender people—“ I think all people should be required to transition at some point during their lives, no exceptions. “But the ILLEGAL IMMIGRANTS—“ I think native born people should have to leave. “There need to be more CHILDREN BORN because CHILDREN ARE INNOCENT AND FREE OF SIN—“ I disagree, I think we should start assigning identities of recently deceased people to newborns, the baby gets their social security number and all assets and gets to pick up where the dead person left off, including all criminal convictions. “America is a CHRISTIAN country” well I’m a prophet and god told me you’re on the naughty list and he decided to go hang out with aliens because they’re more fun. “A WOMAN’S ROLE—“ I’m advocating for abolishing housing so housewives won’t exist anymore.

I really think they’re underestimating how far I’ll go to say things only slightly more batshit than the malicious things they’re suggesting with a straight face.

[alpaca-clouds]

Solarpunk is not archievable under Capitalism

Okay, let me make one thing very clear: We will never have a Solarpunk future as long as we live under capitalism. Again and again I will find people, who have fallen in love with the idea of Solarpunk, but are unwilling to consider any alternative to capitalism. So, please, let me quickly explain what that just is not gonna work out that way. There will be no Solarpunk under capitalism. Because the incentives of capitalism are opposing anything that Solarpunk stands for.

So let me please run over a few core points.

What is capitalism?

One issue that a lot of people do seem to have is understanding what capitalism even is. The defining attribute of capitalism is that "the means of production" (e.g. the things needed to create things) are privately owned and as such the private owners will decide both what gets created through it and who will get a share in any profits created through them. The ultimate goal in this is, to generate as large as a profit as possible, ideally more and more profit with every year. In real terms this means, that most of those means of productions in the way of companies and the like are owned mostly by shareholders, that is investors who have bought part of the company.

While capitalism gets generally thaught in schools with this entire idea of the free market, that... actually is not the central aspect of capitalism. I would even go so far to argue something else...

The market is actually not free and cannot be free

The idea of the free market is, that prices are controlled by the concept of supply and demand, with the buyer in the end deciding on whether they want to spend their money on something and being able to use that power to also enact control on the supplier.

However... that is actually not what is happening. Because it turns out that the end consumer has little influence, because they are actually not actively participating in the market. The market mainly is something that is happening between multimillionaires. It is their demand (or the lack thereoff) that is the influence. Investors, mainly. Which is logical. In a system, where the power to buy is deciding, the person who can spend multiple millions is gonna have a lot more power, than the person who has twenty bucks to their name.

Hence: 99% of all people are not participating in anything resembling a free market, and the remaining 1% are not interested in such a system.

Money under capitalism

One thing everyone needs to understand is, that for the most part money under capitalism is a very theoretical concept. It might be real for the average joe, who for the most part will not have more than maybe ten grand to their name, but it is not real to multi millionaires, let alone billionairs. Something that is going to be thrown around a lot is the concept of "net worth". But what you need to realize is that this net worth is not real money. It does not exist. It is the estimated worth of stuff these people own. Maybe houses and land, maybe private jets, maybe shares in companies and other things. These people's power and literal worth is tied to them being able theoretically able to sell these assets for money.

In fact a lot of these very rich people do not even have a lot of liquid money. So money they can spend. In fact there are quite a few billionairs who do not even own a million in liquidated money. The money they use in everyday life they borrow from banks, while putting their assets up as a security.

Why capitalism won't abolish fossil fuels

Understanding this makes it quite easy to understand why the capitalists cannot have fossil fuels ending. Because a lot of them own millions, at times billions in fossil fuel related assets. They might own a coal mine, or a fracking station, or maybe an offshore rig, or a power plant burning fossil fuels. At times they have 50% or more of their net worth bound in assets like this. If we stopped using fossil fuels, all those assets would become useless from one day to the next. Hence it is not in the interest of these very rich people to have that happen.

But it goes further than that, because politicians cannot have that happen either. Because the entire economy is build around these assets existing and being used as leverage and security for other investments.

Why capitalism won't build walkable cities and infrastructure

The same goes very much for the entire infrastructure. Another thing a lot of people have invested a lot of money into is cars. Not physical cars they own, but cars manufacturing. So, if we were building walkable cities with bikelanes and public transportation, a lot less people would buy cars, those manufactoring factories becoming worthless and hence once more money... just vanishing, that would otherwise be further invested.

Furthermore, even stuff like investing into EVs is a touch call to get to happen, because the investors (whose theoretical and not real money is tied to those manufacturers) want to see dividents at the end of the quartal. And if the manufactuerer invested into changing their factories to build EVs for a while profits would go down due to that investment. Hence, capitalism encourages them not doing that.

Why capitalism won't create sustainable goods

A lot of people will decry the fact that these days all goods you buy will break within two years, while that old washing machine your grandparents bought in 1962 is still running smoothly. To which I say: "Obviously. Because they want to make profits. Hence, selling you the same product every two years is more profitable."

If you wonder: "But wasn't that the same in 1962?" I will answer: "Yes. But in 1962 the market was still growing." See, with the post war economic boom more and more people got more divestable income they could spend. So a lot of companies could expect to win new costumers. But now the market is saturated. There is not a person who could use a washing machine, who does not have one. Hence, that thing needs to break, so they can sell another one.

The market incentive is against making sustainable, enduring products, that can be repaired. They would rather have you throw your clothing, your smartphone and your laptop away every two years.

Why workers will always be exploited under capitalism

One other central thing one has to realize about capitalism is that due to the privitization of the means of production the workers in a capitalist system will always be exploited. Because they own nothing, not even their own work. Any profit the company makes is value that has in the end been created by the workers within the company. (Please note, that everyone who does not own their work and cannot decide what happens to the value created by it is a worker. No matter whether they have a blue collar or a white collar job.)

That is also, why there is the saying: All profit is unpaid wages.

Under capitalism the profits will get divided up under the shareholders (aka the investors), while many of the workers do not even have enough money to just... live. Hence, good living standards for everyone are explicitly once more against the incentives of capitalism.

Why there won't be social justice under capitalism

Racism, sexism and also the current rise of queermisia are all a result of capitalism and have everything to do with capitalist incentives. Because the capitalists, so the people who own the means of production, profit from this discrimination. This is for two reasons.

For once having marginalized people creates groups that are easier exploitable. Due to discrimination these people will have a harder time finding a job and living quarters, making them more desperate and more likely to take badly paid jobs. Making it easier to exploit them for the profit of the capitalists.

A workforce divided through prejudice and discrimination will have a harder time to band together in unions and strikes. The crux of the entire system si, that it is build on the exploitation of workers - but if the workers stopped working, the system would instantly collapse. Hence the power of strikes. So, dividing the workforce between white and non-white, between queer and straight, between abled and disabled makes it easier to stop them from banding together, as they are too busy quaralling amoung themselves.

Why we won't decolonize under capitalism

Colonialism has never ended. Even now a lot of natural ressources and companies in the former colonies are owned by western interest. And this will stay that way, because this way the extraction of wealth is cheaper - making it more profitable. Colonialism has never ended, it has only gotten more subtle - and as long as more money can be made through this system, it will not end.

There won't be Solarpunk under capitalism

It is not your fault, if you think that capitalism cannot end. You have been literally taught this for as long as you can think. You never have been given the information about what capitalism is and how it works. You have never been taught the alternative mechanisms and where and when they were implemented.

You probably look at Solarpunk and think: "Yeah, that... that looks neat. I want that." And here is the thing: I want that, too.

But I have studied economics. Literally. And I can tell you... it does not work. It will not create better living situations for everyone. It will not save the world. Because in the end the longterm goals are not compatible with a capitalistic system.

I know it is fucking scary to be told: "Yeah, change the world you know in massive ways - or the world will end." But... it is just how the things are standing.

You can start small, though. Join a local party. Join a union. Join a mutual aid network. Help repair things. Help people just deal. Our power lies in working together. That is, in the end, what will get us a better future.

[madelynraemunson]

i neeeed you to hear me out on this one okay. okay okay so the song is casual by chappell roan and its about like being super intimate w a guy but he still tells his friends you're just a casual fuck. like some of the lyrics are "i've heard so many rumors that i'm just a girl that you bang on your couch" and "knee deep in the passenger seat and you're eating me out, is it casual now?" so like. eddie munson. angst. and reader whos fed up with him being so cocky to his friends ab how he gets her off while he brushes her off. PLEASE hear me out 🫣

IM HEARING YOU ALL THE WAY OUT 😩😩🗣️

(as someone who dated a literal INCEL in high school who was charismatic to all and manipulative to none but me this fucking triggered me. i see you boo)

CW: misogynist behavior, adult themes, 18+ minors DNI

eddie sweetie, this isn't you :( but without further a due...

"If you have to go around telling people that you're a good person, you probably aren’t a good person."

incel!asshole!modern!eddie x fem!innocent!reader

WC: 1.3k words | part two here

Ever since you became exclusive with the ‘Town Freak’, your friends have constantly been ripping your ass a new one.

They were all so wrong about Eddie Munson. Because beneath the rugged, edgy persona he likes to put on every day (spewing his ‘Abolish-The-Status-Quo’ Manifesto atop an unsteady table in the cafeteria) lies a woman-worshipping gentleman, a soft, romantic, misunderstood love-sick puppy who would do just about anything to know you like the back of his hand.

Your dream boy.

"No one ever wants to date the nice guy," Eddie would say to you, alluding to himself. You’d constantly deny his claim. “But the jocks? The rabbits in band? The chess club dweebs? Oh yeah, without a doubt. Anyone but the freak."

It all made you think Eddie was created perfectly for you. That there was some sort of invisible string in the halls of Hawkins High, waiting for just the right moment to pull you two together. And when you two kissed that one day after detention, his hands snaked gently around your waist behind the rusty, faded bleachers out by the stadium, it felt like a match made in heaven.

“You gonna be my girl?” Eddie grinned into you, stroking your cheek, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. “Mine and mine only?”

“Yours,” you whispered breathlessly to him before reeling him in for another blissful peck.

And soon, lonely afternoons in study hall turned into D&D campaigns with him and his friends. Mundane weekend errands turned into fishing trips with him and Wayne. And soon quiet, anxious car rides became karaoke and head-banging sessions. Once aimless and confused, lost in the melody of life, suddenly all the love songs were about Eddie. You finally found the one.

It all leads you to believe your friends were just jealous of you. True friends would be over the moon.

This afternoon you had a surprise for Eddie. Just last week, you lost your virginity to him and were still swooning over how caring and tender he was with you. Surely, that is the bare minimum for a guy, but the bare minimum is so hard to come by nowadays. Cookies for Discord night with his friends was the least you can do to show how much you appreciate your boyfriend.

After extracurriculars, you rush home to get the oven going, throwing down in the kitchen to make the best snickerdoodles Eddie will ever have. And after one last look in the mirror, fixing your flirty skirt and your plump glossy lips, you set off to Forrest Hills Trailer Park.

Eddie has his headset on so he doesn’t hear your multiple knocks at the door. You knew he would be home though, dude’s got nowhere else to be on a Friday night. Eventually, you decide to hobble out back, looking through one of the windows by the kitchen that he always cracked open just so he doesn’t hotbox the place.

“I’m right behind you, right behind you!” Eddie warns his friends as he nears them in the game. “Gonna need some backup from Gareth the Great.”

Since he’s focused on his electronics, you decide to shoot him a text message. Hopefully then he’ll come to the door.

Hi baby 💕 I brought you some homemade snickerdoodles :)

You can’t help but smile when you hear your custom text-tone go off. But, to your surprise, you watch as Eddie turns a blind eye, chucking his phone onto the nearby couch instead of answering your text.

What the fuck?

"Ugh. She's texting me again," your boyfriend grumbles to the boys as he proceeds with the game. "She's kinda annoying, to be honest. Gonna wait a while before I respond.”

You can’t believe what you’re hearing. Pressing your ear against the mesh blinds that separated you two from each other, you decide to listen in for a while longer.

“Don’t you think you’re stringing her along, Eds?”

Yeah, don’t you think? you think to yourself.

“Yeah, but… free pink,” Eddie sneers with a tsk and shrug. “However I want, whenever I want. She just makes it so easy.”

Eddie then starts to spill the details of taking your virginity, about how you were “chimping out” underneath him on his couch while Wayne was sleeping. What was a sacred ordeal to you was made to sound like a cheap, subpar experience to Eddie. His commentary sends the boys into a spiral, fits of hooting and hollering like it was the best stand-up bit they’ve heard in a long time. Resentment simmers within you. This can’t be the same boy.

“How’d you get a pretty girl like that anyway?” comes another voice in the call.

“Pretty fucking easy,” Eddie scoffs. “You just tell her exactly what she wants to hear. Just say what she says right back to her and the panties come right off. She’ll think you’re soulmates.”

The room erupts with virtual laughter, followed by obnoxious sound effects that the app enables users to send to one another. Your stomach begins to twist, the forbidden cookie dough you ingested just an hour prior threatening to make its way back up.

“HAHAHA,” someone in the chat cackles. “Eds will do anything for that roast beef.”

“I’ve always been keen on them deli meats. Am I right, boys?”

The snickering commences again. Eddie thanks the Discord guys as they extol him in compliments, encouraging him to write a playbook on how to get a proper lay. Eddie ends up shutting down the idea. But not because he thinks it’s fucked. No. It’s because he claims he doesn’t “have to try” and that you just “put out” at the drop of a hat.

The tray of Eddie’s undeserved cookies shakes in your hands as your body begins to tremble. You’re going to be sick. And just when you think it can’t get anymore twisted, it does.

“Hey, what do you think about that girl from math class with the fat ass?”

“Harmony?”

“Yeah.”

“God if she’s into me too I’d dump my girl in a heartbeat,” Eddie swoons.

Of course he’d gawk over Harmony. Outside of Tammy Thompson and Chrissy Cunningham, Harmony Heathers was next up to bat for the Queen of Hawkins High.

“She’s got fucking beanbags where her ass should be. I’d do just about anything for her.”

“And her.”

“Yeah and I’d do her.”

"I'd do her too," Eddie admits.

That’s enough.

You’ve heard enough to know that Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson was just like the rest. Throwing the snickerdoodle cookies you made for him into the trash, you sprint back to your car and set off for your house, music blaring the entirety of the commute.

My friends call me a loser 'Cause I'm still hanging around

I've heard so many rumors That I'm just a girl that you bang on your couch

You slam the door to your room the moment you get home. And before stripping down and hopping into the safety of a warm shower, you send Eddie one last text.

Actually, you know what? It’s over. Don’t talk to me ever again.

Washing the grossness off of you was the only way you felt you could feel okay.

You wanted the remnants of Eddie OFF of your body. Hysterically sobbing, you attempt scrub off all the dead skin on your body with a loofah. Frustrated tears roll down your face.

I thought you thought of me better, Someone you couldn't lose

You wanted all the dead cells off of you. You wanted a new body. You wanted a new life.

And you couldn’t wait to grow newer, thicker skin. A new shell of you. It will be skin that Eddie can never say he touched.

You said, "We're not together" So now when we kiss,

Fuck Eddie Munson.

I have anger issues

You give the weird kid a chance, and then suddenly he acts like you’re the freak.

[samsalami66]

Don't Go Kicking My Heart

Another part of the soccer au, it is time for fluff and trauma! Enjoy!!

Read on ao3!

Today was the first day of a new era. A new age of football.

The world of sports would remember this day. 

The day Morpheus Ateleios, winner of the European Golden Shoe, first played for Fiddler’s Green, the highest ranking football club in all of Europe. 

Or, well, the day he first trained with them. His first match was still far off, the next season only started in a few months after all, but today was his first day as a part of the team. He would face the players for the first time not on opposite sides of a field, but as a teammate. 

Morpheus was about to be sick, standing in front of these unfamiliar training facilities in the middle of London, miles away from Wych Cross and Roderick’s now cold and dead body. The distance wasn’t enough. No distance could make up for the ache he still felt in his bones, in his muscles, for the bruises slowly healing on his back and chest. 

But thinking about the ghost of Roderick Burgess still being imprinted on his skin was not what really got to Morpheus’ stomach. 

No, it was the fact that he would face Robert Gadling for the first time as a colleague. A part of the team. 

Gadling was… well, to say Morpheus and him did not get along would probably be an understatement. They had a bit of a turbulent history. 

Said history might have involved red cards for both of them during their latest match, following a disagreement they had decided to solve with fists rather than words. 

It hadn’t been one of his proudest moments. 

There was just something about Gadling, something that set him off in the worst way possible. Morpheus wasn’t a pleasant person to be around, he’d admit, but Gadling would stare at him with such distaste, it felt entirely unwarranted. Jessamy would say it was jealousy, because Morpheus was clearly the better player between the two of them. But who knew, perhaps the Fiddlers’ star player was simply a homophobic asshole, like so many others in this sport. Maybe Roderick had a point when he said that nobody would want to play with him or share a locker room if they knew about him, about his fantasies. 

Perhaps he had been right to announce them to the world.

But god, was he really about to walk into a locker room full of people who would rather have him dead than anywhere near them? Would they refuse to undress before him, just like the Riggers had done? And what would Gadling do to him in the privacy of a training facility, where there was no referee to step between them, no cameras pointed in their direction? 

Fuck, all of this had been a terrible idea. He should leave, should tell Gilbert that he simply couldn’t play for this club, that he would have to find another player, that there was simply too much antagony and hatred and-

“You alright there, mate?” A voice, all too familiar, sounded from behind him. Morpheus couldn’t help the yelp that escaped his lips at the sudden appearance of Robert Gadling right in his personal space. He had been too caught up in his thoughts and didn’t even notice that the other man had approached him. It took every ounce of self-control Morpheus possessed to school his face back into something less terrified as he turned towards his old rival. 

“Why do you care?” He replied, venom dripping from his words. All it earned him was a raised eyebrow. 

“Well, you look like you’re walking to your death sentence. Mind, I don’t actually know what you’re doing here, of all places, but I’m pretty sure the death penalty was abolished in 1969 over here in the UK.” Robert Gadling looked thoughtful for a moment, one hand coming up to scratch at his beard, and Morpheus was left to stare at him. None of this answered his question. “Unless you committed treason of course, the death penalty for that was abolished in 1998 I think. Not that it matters much, both are in the past now, but the more you know!”

There was a moment of silence after Gadling stopped talking, one in which Morpheus contemplated if he should pinch himself for the unlikely reason that this was all a dream. Though surely not even his brain could come up with such impossible scenarios all on its own. After all, he knew nothing about English history. 

Perhaps if he didn’t answer, the other man would leave. 

But no such luck. Robert Gadling was not fazed by his silence. 

“Not a fan of history, eh? Fair enough, I guess it’s not everyone’s cuppa tea.” Gadling winked at him then, and Morpheus decided that perhaps pinching himself wasn’t the worst idea after all. A stab of pain shot up his arm, but, again, no luck. This really was no elaborate nightmare. Gadling was talking to him. “How about a joke, then? Something to wipe that mopey look off your face?”

He did not wait for Morpheus’ answer. He would not have gotten one anyway, but it was still rude. 

“Why’s Cinderella bad at football?” Morpheus was dreading the answer to this question more than he had dreaded entering the facilities in the first place. Robert Gadling waited for a moment, if for dramatics or simply to torture him, Morpheus didn’t know.

“Because she lost her shoe and ran away from the ball!” 

It was an awful joke. Really, it might be in the top ten of the worst jokes Morpheus had ever heard. And yet, he felt the familiar feeling of laughter bubbling up from deep within him, a sort of hysteria he simply couldn’t control, couldn’t stop as it was about to simply burst from his chest. 

Perhaps it was the whole situation that made him hysterical, the stress of the past few days that came crashing down on him that had sent him into delirium. Or, maybe, he simply wasn’t very sane to begin with.

Morpheus tried desperately to clasp a hand over his mouth in order to stop the horrible noise from escaping his lips, but it was a futile attempt. Waves of laughter shook his body and the sound, only slightly muffled by his hand, spilled into the air between him and Robert Gadling. 

Morpheus knew that his laugh was horrible. Back at school people had held their ears whenever he laughed, much later people had simply asked him to stop whenever he couldn’t catch himself in time. Roderick had had the cane. But Gadling did not do any of those things. 

Gadling was simply… looking. He looked… amused? Fond, perhaps? Morpheus couldn’t really see through the tears that were building in his eyes as he tried to calm down. But he had to be imagining things, nobody had ever looked fond when confronted with his joy. And Gadling… Gadling hated him.

Didn’t he? 

“Looked like you needed that.” he said, tone warm, and Morpheus wasn’t too sure about it anymore. “Come on, I’ll bring you wherever you need to go. And call me Hob, yeah? My friends usually do.”

Robert Gadling clapped a hand on his shoulder, and Morpheus had never felt so unsteady on his feet or in his world-view. 

It was minutes later that the two of them entered the training facilities of Fiddler’s Green, Gadling chattering away at Morpheus’ side as if they were old friends. He talked about anything and everything, topics seemingly unrelated to one another, though somehow Morpheus managed to keep up with the jumps in his stories. How he went from a camping trip the team went on last month to when he went fishing with his father when he was younger, to the anatomy of grasshoppers they had presumably used for fishing, and the physical differences between grasshoppers and crickets. 

It was weirdly familiar, so similar to how his own brain worked. Though he could never verbalise his thoughts like this, without overthinking every single word. Gadling didn’t particularly seem to care if he could keep up, just kept talking and gesturing as they walked. 

It was… calming. Morpheus found himself hoping that he didn’t stop any time soon. 

But, of course, they had a destination. And once they reached it, Gadling slowly came to a stop in his rambling. Before them were the doors to the locker rooms, through which Morpheus heard voices, broken up by laughter, louder than he had ever experienced a locker room to be at Fawney Rig. 

The Riggers hadn’t talked much to one another. Certainly hadn’t laughed together.

“Right, Gilbert should be with the other guys. Do you want me to get him or come inside?”

Considerate. Morpheus wished he didn’t have to go into this room. But there was no point, if he was supposed to work and play with these men in the future. 

“I would come in, if you don’t mind.” 

God, Morpheus hated how small his voice sounded. Gadling must be aware of what he was actually asking. The question Would you allow someone like me into your changing rooms? hidden somewhere between the lines. But the other man simply raised an eyebrow at him, smiled fondly and held the door open for him. 

“I wouldn’t have asked if I did.”

Morpheus remembered very clearly how the Riggers had once asked him to come inside the locker rooms after Roderick had outed him, just to close and lock the door in his face. 

It had been three years since he last stepped foot into a shared locker room. And Robert Gadling invited him, his rival, inside with a smile. 

Morpheus hoped the tears stinging in his eyes weren’t too obvious.

As they entered, member after member turned to look at them with an air of surprise and curiosity. One of them, blond, American, and with a devastatingly handsome smile, whistled and waggled his eyebrows in Gadling’s direction. 

“Did you finally have the guts to talk to Mister Dreamy without starting a fight, Robbie?”

When Morpheus turned to look at the other man, he could see that his tanned skin turned red around his cheeks, all the way up to his ears. Huh, Morpheus hadn’t known that Gadling felt embarrassment over their common disagreements on the field. He had always seemed very confident in his anger.

“Shut it, Cori. He’s here to talk to Gilbert.”

Just as Gadling said it, the man in question looked up from some papers he had been studying, with a smile spreading over his face. “Oh, Mister Ateleios!” Gilbert stood quickly to offer him his hand, which Morpheus took without much hesitation. The coach of Fiddler’s Green was a homely man, soft and welcoming in every way Roderick hadn’t been. “It’s wonderful to have you, son, just wonderful! I’m glad to see you’ve found your way just fine.” 

Morpheus couldn’t remember when someone had last called him son. Perhaps when he had last seen his parents… some six-odd years ago. Though, honestly, his father had stopped calling him son long before that. It made a part deep within him ache to hear it again, from a stranger nonetheless. But he couldn’t get emotional in front of all these people, not now, so he forced a smile and a nod, and hoped his voice didn’t break when he answered. 

“Yes, Mister Gadling was kind enough to lead the way. I am honoured to be here.”

The elder man patted his shoulder, fatherly, and Morpheus was a hair’s breadth away from breaking down. 

“Glad Robert could make himself useful at least, when he’s already never on time.” Gadling pouted at that, but didn’t otherwise react. Such a statement from Roderick would have had the entire room cowering in fear. But these men weren’t afraid. It was strange, but at the same time filled Morpheus with hope that this perhaps wasn’t a huge mistake. “And now that you two are here as well, it’s time for the big announcement, wouldn’t you say?”

Gilbert hadn’t warned the team of him? With all their history? Either the man had incredible trust in his men or he didn’t care much about Morpheus’ physical well-being.

Morpheus was about to be sick after all. 

“What’s the announcement, boss?” a raven-haired man asked from their right, curiosity in his voice. Or was it mistrust?

“Well, boys, Mister Ateleios here approached me a few weeks ago, asking to become a part of the team. And I signed him on, of course. He will take Paul’s place, since his spot opened up with the end of last season.” 

Morpheus closed his eyes, preparing himself for protest, for judgement, for insults. All of it would be reasonable, and he wasn’t stupid enough to hope for a better reaction. He had landed Gadling in hospital once, for Christ’s sake. He would be lucky if nobody resorted to violence in the face of what must feel like betrayal from their coach-

“Oh fuck yeah, we will kick ass this season with Morpheus on our team!”

Gadling’s excited voice cut through the silence like a knife through butter, and suddenly the whole room erupted into cheers. Hands found his shoulders and back, patting them with enthusiasm as Morpheus blinked his eyes open in surprise. The men were smiling at him, not a hint of malevolence in any of their faces. Robert Gadling was practically vibrating with excitement, his eyes shining like those of a child at Christmas. Nobody had ever looked at Morpheus like that, like his presence was a thing to look forward to. 

It would change, surely. They were happy to have his skills on their time, were looking forward to a successful season. That was all. 

It would change. 

Morpheus was sure of it. 

- - - 

The next day, Morpheus was the first ready for training. He was early, really. Dreadfully early. When Roderick said training started at eight, he had expected the team to show up at six at the latest. But apparently the Fiddlers were less inclined to begin a day so early. 

No matter, a few extra hours would not do him any harm. 

He could warm up already, set up a few exercises. Perhaps it would reflect on his conviction to be a valuable player for the team, so they would perhaps forgive his lack of character. 

It was as good a plan as ever. 

He started off with stretching his legs and feet, before moving onto his arms and neck. It was calming, to spend some minutes in tranquil silence, simply feeling the muscles in his body stretch and loosen for the day ahead. Just as he was about to start his last set of stretches, a voice came from the side of the field, which almost caused him to strain his neck with how fast he turned around to look at the source. 

Of course, it was Gadling. 

“Did you hear about the team whose back four was only two fullbacks?”

That. Didn’t make any sense. What was that supposed to mean? Had he been supposed to do preparations for today’s training? Research the teams they would be playing? Gods, if he had already missed such a vital task on his second day they would never tolerate him, they would put him on the bench and find a different player, they-

“Apparently they're double stuffed.”

It was another joke. A pun. A horrible, terrible, awful pun. 

Morpheus couldn’t help the laugh that escaped him, half-delirious, his heart beating so fast in his chest he felt a bit faint. 

He hadn’t misstepped. No reason for punishment. He was okay. 

Except that he was laughing, freely, before Robert Gadling. 

He really had to get a grip on himself. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t keep the laughter in, couldn’t stop, not even when tears were running down his cheeks and his stomach felt like he had done a hundred situps. 

Gadling was smiling when he came closer, as he seemed to do so very often since they had met in front of the facility. He sat down next to him, mirroring his current position, and Morpheus couldn’t help but smile back at him as they began to stretch together, Gadling once again regaling him with stories and anecdotes and seemingly random facts. 

It was nice. 

Morpheus had absolutely no idea how to deal with it. But he decided to simply accept it for what it was. 

- - - 

On Saturdays, the Fiddlers met for drinks. 

It was an unspoken rule, a tradition, and Morpheus had been invited during that first week of training with the team. Therefore, it was important to leave a positive impression. 

He arrived, dressed in a tux and carrying a bottle of wine, at the address Gadling had sent him. It was… not a real restaurant, nor another place he recognised. It didn’t seem to be a place where any of the other players lived either. The sign on the front of the building read The New Inn and from inside Morpheus could hear the same laughter and joy he had come to associate with the locker rooms of Fiddler’s Green. 

They were a loud bunch, almost irritatingly so, if it weren’t for the warmth their company provided. Spending time with them was easier than it had ever been with the Riggers. 

Upon entering Morpheus was greeted with cheers and whistles, and he realised very quickly that he was immensely overdressed. The team sat around a large table towards the side of the room, dressed in jeans, t-shirts and hoodies (except Ken and Cori, those two technically wore shirts, though Morpheus was not entirely sure that they could really qualify as such with how little they were covering.). Gadling sported a fading band-tee about two sizes too large and sweat-pants.

Gods above, Morpheus would stick out like a sore thumb. Why had nobody told him about the dress-code?

“Looking good, Dreamy!” Cori called over the cheers, a grin on his face. “Dress to impress! Robbie will look dreadfully underdressed next to you.”

The man in question kicked Cori underneath the table. 

“Ow! What, it’s not my fault you roll from your couch upstairs right down to drinks night!” 

The tips of Gadling’s ears turned red at the other man’s words, and Morpheus almost felt the need to defend him. After all, it was his being overdressed, not Gadling being undressed, that was the faux-pas here. 

But in the spirit of good impressions Morpheus simply sat down on the free chair next to Gadling and placed the bottle of wine on the table. It was immediately nicked by Mervyn, an appreciative whistle leaving his lips as he read the label. “Good stuff, Dreamy. Cheers!”

That nickname, twice already this evening. Morpheus wasn’t entirely sure if it existed to make fun of him or was simply a thing these people did. It had been there since day one, and apparently the team wasn’t about to stop anytime soon. It… did not bother Morpheus too much. He had never had a nickname. Roderick had only ever called him Morpheus, and he had only ever said it with hatred, disappointment or cold detachment. Never with humour, joy or fondness, had never used it to tease him. 

“Why did the winger miss the match?”

Gadling’s voice, quiet and right next to his ear, quickly pulled Morpheus out of his thoughts. It was a question. Had he missed a part of the conversation? Was he supposed to answer? Or, no, it wasn’t another one, was it…?

“He was busy chasing ball.” 

Oh, fuck, it was another one of Gadling’s horrible, god-awful puns. That was it. Proof that Gadling hated him, had just been nice to him to gain some twisted sort of amusement. Morpheus knew the laughter was coming this time, knew he was helpless against it bubbling up in his throat. He didn’t want to face the whole team as they were subjected to his laugh. Surely they would tell him to stop, to keep quiet, to leave the inn, laugh at him. 

But there was no helping it. With his face hidden behind his hands, Morpheus allowed the sound to spill over and mix with the laughter around them. Seconds passed by, and the noise around him did not stop. Conversations continued, drinks were drunk, and nobody seemed to react at all. 

Ever so slowly, Morpheus dared to raise the hands from his face and to peek into the group of people around him. 

Nobody was batting an eye. 

Stunned, and more than a little confused, Morpheus let his hands drop to his lap. Beside him, Gadling was nursing his beer, almost as if he hadn’t just tried to embarrass him in front of the entire team. Or… perhaps he really hadn’t tried to. Nobody was laughing at him after all. Nobody was shouting at him to keep quiet or to go outside. 

Almost as if it were okay for him to just… be. 

- - - 

About a month later, Morpheus sat in his apartment on his day off. A Sunday. The first of the month. 

It was a quiet day, warm and sunny and the only sounds were the birds chirping outside.

That was, until someone decided it would be a brilliant idea to abuse his doorbell. Probably some reporter, or an obnoxious fan. They would get bored soon. Very soon. 

Ten minutes later, the doorbell was still ringing and Morpheus had had enough. 

“Gamo to kerato sou. People nowadays have zero respect for privacy.”

Morpheus was ready to yell at whoever was standing behind the door, scare them off so they would never show their face here ever again. 

But behind the door was Gadling. And Cori. And Matthew and Mervyn and John and Ken and… even Gilbert was there. Gadling was holding a cake in his hands. Self-made, by the looks of it. 

The frosting read Happy One Month Anniversary!

Morpheus was about to cry. 

He couldn’t help it. He rushed forward, right into the arms of Robert Gadling. Because this must have been his idea, insufferable, incredible man that he was. Considerate. God, he was always so considerate. Cheering him up with stupid puns every single day, forcing him to relax, to trust, to breathe, to be. 

Forcing Morpheus to enjoy his company. Seek it out even. He didn’t do hugs. And yet, here he was. 

“Thank you, Hob.” he whispered, so only Hob could hear. The arms around him tightened, and the other man pressed his cheek against his own. 

“Anytime, Dream.”

[doomzidle]

Legacy/Radical Jack isn't the same monster you think.

I keep seeing Legacy/Radical Jack get chalked up to being nothing short of a 'evil person who wants to do evil things', which... ISN'T true in the slightest. Yes, he's bad. But there's reason. Not everything is so black and white. Here's a dive into Legacy/Radical Jack's character, and why he acts the way he does, along with a retrospective into Jack's life before DSaF. Here's my take on Jack's motivation for the Legacy/Radical Jack routes.

This is all referring to Jack’s hatred towards the real fredbear and fredbear 'cursing' him. Jack blames himself for Dee's death before any of the games happen, and that's clear through just how much regret his soul has (Blackjack being able to literally cross timelines.) and multiple dialogue trees in the game. That Jack would do anything to bring her back, or redeem himself, and Fredbear knew this. Personally? I believe Jack felt obligated to promise he’d give all the souls their happiest day, as he saw it as a way, if not the ONLY way to redeem himself. Why else would a person put themselves through ALL that torture, and be willing to receive nothing in return?

Jack regrets it. Specifically in the legacy and radical routes. He regrets that he ever made the promise because he doesn't want ANYTHING to do with ANY of it. Because it has nothing to DO with him. Dee is gone and dead, and nothing he can do is going to bring her back, so why even bother? Dave encourages him to let loose and not uphold some insane, crazy promise that was shoved in his face. Fredbear cursed him, and that's how Jack sees it. He doesn't want to dedicate his entire unlife to some promise, to have to endure his body rotting and falling apart, people treating him as if he's not even a person, and in the end get NOTHING for all his troubles, all for some stupid bear diety. Frankly, I also think that that's maybe why legacy kills Dee in the flipside. Because he doesn't see that as DEE. His little sister died over 60 something years ago, and he doesn't see that as her. Or, because we know that at one point Henry’s soul enters Jack’s body, Henry killed her instead. It’s one of the two. And, if he doesn’t die? He doesn't have to face eternal nothingness. Which is what WILL happen when he dies, because he has no soul. He can't go anywhere. So, he joins Henry, in the hope of abolishing death and spreading the joy of creation so he won't have to ever face death. Legacy/radical Jack will make himself the problem that fredbear wanted him to get rid of. Not to mention, most people forget it was Jack’s CORPSE who made the promise with the real fredbear, not Jack’s soul. And when Jack’s dead body was awakened to be asked the problem, Jack’s fate was already sealed. Before he even said ‘I promise’ his body wouldn’t ever be able to rest because of the sheer fact that they decided to wake him with his soul out of his body. They took away his chance of ever being able to peacefully rest. They MURDERED him, because they wanted his help.

I don’t really think he had a choice with that promise. He’s gonna end up in the same place no matter what choice or action he makes, he’ll never be rewarded or punished for anything he does, so why bother? Fredbear KNEW Jack felt obligated. It's all obligation. ..this is probably why he kills the real fredbear, and maybe kills to children to piss him off. To make Fredbear's hope of ever giving children their happiest day nearly impossible by killing more and more kids

All because fredbear took his chance of having a happiest day away

And then, you look at Henry's influence over Jack throughout all the games; Especially in the ‘an ending’ ending, after certain in-game criteria are met you can get specific dialogue; BlackJack: ''Well done. Well done, indeed. You've really created a whole legacy out of spite, haven't you? I should have intervened, but I didn't. Was this a passing fancy? Or is this your legacy? Is this really you now?''

Jack: ''This is who I am now. This is my legacy'

BJ: ''I know you'll never be able to put yourself back together, but must you cause such suffering?"

Another secret one you can get from the SAME ending if certain requirements are met

BJ : THIS ISN'T THE FIRST TIME I HAVE SEEN YOU LIKE THIS. I CANNOT TELL IF YOU ARE LOST, OR JUST TOO CRUEL TO UNDERSTAND. IS THIS HOW YOU GET YOUR KICKS? IS THIS HOW YOU FEEL POWERFUL OR, ARE YOU TRYING TO LURE ME OUT? I WANT TO KNOW WHY YOU KEEP DOING THIS.

jack: Perhaps I am trying to follow Henry.

BJ: YOU ARE A FOOL IF YOU THINK YOU COULD EVER KILL YOUR WAY TO HIS DOORSTEP. HE IS GONE. I MADE SURE OF THAT. I AM GOING TO ASK OUTRIGHT: WAS IT ME YOU WERE LOOKING FOR? OR ARE YOU SEARCHING FOR THE OTHER PIECES?

jack: I refuse to put anything back together. Meaning, Henry hadn't interacted with Jack yet, but jack was trying to contact him, and Jack doesn't WANT to put anything back together again.

They broke HIM, so why should he fix them? You also gotta consider Henry's manipulation towards Jack. Through SEVERAL instances in the third game, we see Henry telling Jack the same things he told Dave. Hell, even Doggo confirms that Henry's only manipulating him. Each route of Jack, they're all the same jack- Just the anger directed towards two different sides, two different extremes.

Good route Jack is one extreme, the one that's willing to do anything and everything he can to put everyone else back together, because he himself was broken.

Legacy/radical route jack is the other extreme, the one that's willing to do anything and everything he can to give back what HE was given.

They broke him, so he's going to break them. Hell, all throughout the games it is PRESSED upon the player just how broken Jack is. Dee says it, Dave says it, Fredbear does- Jack Kennedy is more broken than anyone else. They are TWO halves of the same whole, two ends of the same line. One if fueled by regret, the other is fueled with hurt. Another important thing you also have to take into consideration is just HOW broken this man was, EVEN before the games. Here's a short retrospective on Jack's life BEFORE his parents died- Just gonna throw in his life after his parents died too, because it was kinda rough looking back on it. They died when Jack was 16/17, and he was solely in charge of raising Dee, as Peter had already moved out and living with his wife.

Peter for some reason DIDN'T help, he even apologizes for abandoning them, and leaving them alone in dsaf 3's good ending.

A big fault on Peter's end, but there's an important reason for WHY he did this, and I'll get to that in another post. A 17-year-old would've had to drop out of high school to take care of Dee, and we already KNOW he has problems. So, you take a clearly struggling teenager, who was shoved into the role of being a parental figure in an INSTANT, add the other fact that he probably thinks Peter has something against him because PETER left him behind, and add in the fact that there's no room to healthily grieve his parent's death? NOTHING good comes from that. Jack Kennedy is NOT fit to be raising a whole ass toddler on his own. Even IF Dee is Jack's WORLD before she dies, and I full-heartedly believe Dee was the one thing keeping Jack going at one point, that is NOT enough.

But anyways, you have a clearly struggling guy raising a kiddo, and y'know what? His little sister wants to have her birthday party at where he works.

The Diner.

He thinks, sure, why not? It's safe, I work there, my boss will be there, other adults will be there. Nothing bad could happen. He thinks it's safe to leave her alone for a moment. Maybe to go grab her cake, or to use the bathroom, who knows-

He THINKS it's safe, because, y'know, ONCE again- it's where he WORKS. His boss is there, adults are there, he thinks dee is safe. And when he comes back, she's gone. I think the sheer amount of regret Blackjack has is pretty telling on how much Jack blamed himself. So, Jack, panicked, full of self-blame like he usually is (it's a main part of his character), goes home in a panic, finds his DOG dead. His sister is MISSING, his dog is GONE, and what does he do, because he has NO other way to cope with whats happening? He drinks. I'd imagine that's something he's either picked up from Peter or a family member (There's a scene in the game that show Peter drinking, but that's when Peter's a phone-head, so it might be wrong.) He gets drunk. He wants to find dee SO badly, so he goes to the diner. It's night. That's NOT good. He gets caught by an animatronic, and he's dragged to the back, and shoved inside of a springlock suit. (These are the kids doing this, and it's said during the whole flashback when Jack makes the promise. They purposely murder Jack because they want his help.) He's never been in one before, he only worked the nightshift. He doesn't know how it works. He panics, the springlocks go off, and he dies. Henry finds him, and brings what seems to be dee's corpse into the other animatronic in the room. I have no idea if Jack SAW dee, but I am led to believe that it's Dee, because we know Dee was still moving AFTER Jack was dead.(Horrible to think about.) And the previous two children would've been stuffed away already. So, you have Jack. His soul is gone, he's dead. He's awakened, and every AWFUL thought, every AWFUL feeling is still there. He's STILL stuck in the springlock suit, still drunk out of his mind- but something wakes him up. He hears a voice. You have an intoxicated orange who's probably not thinking clearly and is STILL probably overwhelmed by everything that's just happened. He's just lost TWO important people in his life, and he's dead, and he's in pain and he can't even THINK properly at the moment, yet he's being asked to do something that's so IMPORTANT- Jack blames himself for what happened to Dee. He blames himself to SUCH an extent, that he'd do anything to redeem himself for what he did, So, not thinking straight, in unbearable agony, full of self-blame, he accepts the promise, and he drags himself, CRAWLS out of the saferoom. IT ONLY GETS WORSE, FOLKS. His brother, Peter, sees the news. He believes the news over Jack. Jack has nothing. He's LOST everything, and he has nowhere to go, nowhere to turn. He has been broken without any hope of ever putting himself back together again. God, just imagine how AWFUL Jack must've felt when he saw the news, seeing his own face as the murder suspect. Legacy Jack is nothing more then a broken, BROKEN man who wants to give back the world what they gave him. He isn't black and white, good or evil. Henry took advantage of Jack's anger and spite towards those who hurt him, and used it.

[gffa]

I'm coming to really hate this whole idea of having to pick a "side" in Star Wars fandom, like are you pro-Jedi or anti-Jedi? Or even pro-Anakin or anti-Anakin? Or pro-prequels or anti-prequels? I get why these labels evolved and there are circumstances where they are useful, especially when discussing larger trends in fandom! I don't think they should be abolished or anything, I still use them myself! But I kind of hate the whole idea of people boiling down the idea that people must be categorized as one or the other--like, I dislike being thought of as "pro-Jedi", specifically because I'm my own set of opinions and views! Whatever compliments or criticisms I have for the Jedi are mine, not part of some collective opinion. I'm not part of a monolith, I'm just my one solitary person, I'm not responsible for other pro- or anti- people's opinions on things, just as they're not responsible for mine. Thinking of fandom being split up into these "factions"--instead of a bunch of different, unique people with unique to them set of opinions--is deeply frustrating when I don't want to be responsible for others' opinions! I'm only responsible for mine! I'm not that simple, you can't just boil me down into a single category or decide that I must hold certain opinions because I was categorized into a specific group. "Pro-Jedi/pro-Anakin/pro-prequels fans just can't accept their faves weren't literally perfect!!!" is not applicable to me, because I have argued time and again against how much I hate the idea that any of these aren't allowed flaws unless those flaws are being used to show actually they were Bad, but it gets applied to me anyway because I talk positively about the Jedi/Anakin/the prequels. I wish there were more thought given to how my views are not the same as any other "pro-Jedi" or "pro-Anakin" or "pro-prequels" person, that you wouldn't want to be lumped in with those fans because you saw one person being annoying and thus think all fans hold those exact same views and your views don't align with that, so those fans are stinky. No! You don't have to put a label on yourself or anyone else, unless you want to! Just have the opinions you have without needing people to be lumped into groups! And other people are the same way! They just have opinions that are unique to them! Every new fan you meet is going to occupy a different space on the pro-/anti- gamut and I think that makes for a more nuanced, healthy way of looking at fandom.

[teegeeteegee]

Physical Contact Headcanons for Mario, Luigi, Princess Peach, Princess Daisy

Well, here goes nothing. I’m posting headcanons for the first time. 😅 I’ve had these in my mind for a while and decided to write them out. As the title states, it’s about the physical contact (hugs, kisses, etc.) between the Mario brothers and Princesses Peach and Daisy.

Before I begin, I should warn that I am absolutely terrible when it comes to headcanons. They may not make sense despite my best efforts to explain them. 😅

Also, if my headcanon(s) are similar to some that other people already came up with, I assure you it is not intentional, and I apologize in advance.

With all of that out of the way, let’s-a go!

Hugging

Mario

Mario is a great hugger! He’s like a teddy bear who provides a combination of protection and comfort. With that said, he rarely initiates them unless he’s overly excited about something.

The only person he gives consistent hugs to is Luigi. Outside of that, he’ll hug the Toad children if they approach him or ask for one. He’ll rarely hug Peach unless after they overcome a perilous situation and even then, she is the one who hugs him first.

Luigi

Like Mario, Luigi is good at hugs. However, he has to be comfortable with the people first before they experience how warm they are. He’s less likely to give them out than Mario due to his more reserved temperament.

Mario is the only person who he’s comfortable hugging on his own.

One time, he tried to surprise Daisy with a hug from behind, only for her to judo flip him like Peach did to Mario in the movie. Since then, he’s shied away from hugging her and will only do so if she hugs him first.

Peach

Peach is a very generous hugger. Her hugs are tender, snug, and soothing, especially if she uses her healing magic. She loves hugging anything she can.

Of course, her best hugs are reserved for the people who she is the closest to. These consist of Mario, Luigi, Daisy, and Toadsworth.

Outside of them, she has an affinity for hugging cute things. Toad babies and children in particular are her biggest weakness. She has a hard time resisting them, especially if they’re brave enough to approach her first. Yoshi babies also evoke her hugging side.

She is especially fond of group hugs and doesn’t like to exclude anyone.

Daisy

Like her fellow princess, Daisy loves doling out hugs. Unlike her best friend, however, her hugs tend to be anything but tender. They can range from manageable to back-breaking or rib-crushing. She doesn’t mean to hug so hard, mind you; it’s just that she’s very affectionate to those she cares about the most.

Of course, her main victim is none other than Luigi. Let’s just say he keeps chiropractors in business from how frequently he visits them. The types of hugs she loves to give him outside of the normal are running, tackling, and surprise hugs from behind.

She also loves to hug Peach though she’s not as rough with her. Mario is another one she likes to hug on occasion; however, he’ll sometimes compete with her to see who hugs the hardest.

Another thing she has in common with Peach is that she adores children and wants to lovingly wrap her arms around them. Unfortunately, they tend to scatter, or their parents shield them from her due to her, ahem, "reputation".

As with Peach, she loves group hugs.

Kissing

Mario & Luigi

I’m putting these two together because they have similar approaches. It is highly unlikely to see either of them kiss the princesses first. Both are reticent to even think of such a thing due to their statuses. Although Mario has more experience with women, none of them were royalty and thus, he didn’t believe he was worthy enough to kiss a princess. Luigi, on the other hand, abolished the thought from his mind completely. If Mario wasn’t worthy enough, he figured he'd had the same odds as their worst enemies.

The only time they would initiate the kisses is if the princesses wanted them to. They standing under some mistletoe is one example of such a scenario.

Peach would send some subtle hints such as commenting on the mood or giving Mario permission if she sees him wanting to but is reluctant to do so. Think of Kristoff and Anna at the end of the first Frozen Movie. Even then, it would be a peck on the cheek at most.

Daisy would outright ask Luigi to kiss her or tell him through her body language, such as pointing to her cheeks or slightly puckering her lips. Despite the blatant hints, Luigi is loath to follow through due to Daisy playing tricks on him. For example, he would lean in to kiss her cheek, only for her to dip him and plant a big kiss anywhere on his face. As for the puckered lips, she would quickly peck him on the lips right when he was about to make contact. This made him blush profusely and fall on his rear end in surprise. He’s been cautious since.

Mario hasn’t tried to kiss Daisy, nor has Luigi attempted to kiss Peach on their own.

The only time they feel comfortable kissing the princesses is if they (the princesses) are upset over something. The brothers then gently kiss the princesses on their foreheads out of instinct in an attempt to soothe them since that’s what their mother did for them and their father for their mother when they were distraught.

Peach

No question about it, Peach is the most charitable kisser of the group. As much as she enjoys dishing out hugs, she slightly enjoys kissing more. Her pecks tend to be on the tender and warm side. She secretly loves to see the responses of those who are lucky enough to be blessed by her ample lips. Her kisses can also heal wounds or soothe aches if the situation calls for it.

The main recipient of said kisses is of course Mario. She thinks he has a kissable face and relishes his reactions to them.

She doesn’t have a preferred spot as to where she likes to kiss him, but the most targeted spots are his cheeks. She usually pecks him there after he rescues her or as a spot of affection. Other areas include the forehead and nose. The former is when he’s asleep or resting after an adventure. The latter is sometimes after rescuing her, if she’s in a playful mood, or if he hurts it in some way.

She also kisses Luigi from time to time. She almost always kisses him on his cheeks, and they are mostly for rescuing her, helping her out with something, giving her a gift, or if he’s despondent over something. These kisses are strictly platonic.

She is very fond of kissing children, especially Toad babies and Yoshis. She likes kissing the adult Yoshis as well, especially their noses.

Daisy

On the other hand, Daisy isn’t much of a kisser. Her preferred intimate contact is definitely hugging.

When it comes to Luigi, however, a whole army of Chargin’ Chucks and Shovas are needed to keep her lips away from him, and even that may not be enough.

She loves sneaking up on him from behind and surprising him with her pecks.

Her favorite spot is most certainly his nose. One of her favorite things to do is to tap Luigi on the shoulder and peck him on the nose as soon as he turns around, then giggle and grin in his face right after. The best part is that he falls for it every time!

Another thing she gets a kick out of regarding his nose is kissing it so firmly it fluctuates like a diving board after someone jumps from it.

Should Luigi ever be asleep in her presence, he can expect to have his face embellished with multiple orange kiss marks when he wakes up!

As for Mario, the only times she kisses him is when she picks him up and plants a loud stretching one on his cheek in good fun or in the middle of an argument. It usually ends with Mario having a tomato red face and him muttering something under his breath in Italian.

She sometimes pecks Peach on the cheek out of spontaneity or when she’s teasing her. Peach’s cheeks flush sometimes, and Daisy teases her by telling her how cute/pretty she is when she’s blushing.

Like Peach, she loves kissing children and babies. However, like her hugs, she can get carried away, causing everyone to be wary of her.

Other Kissing Trivia

The way the brothers respond to kisses from their beloved princess depends on where they kiss them. Mario and Luigi have similar reactions from them.

Cheek: at minimum slightly flushed cheeks. Sometimes their entire faces turn red, and they swoon. How much they swoon depends on the pressure of the kisses. They also flinch and widen their eyes if surprised.

Nose: their noses twitch, and their mustaches either stretch horizontally or curl upward at the ends. In addition, their faces redden at some parts, and their bodies stiffen. Sometimes they tumble on their backs and look dreamily at the sky. Their noses are the most sensitive and responsive parts besides their lips.

Forehead: slightly flushed faces and droopy eyes. They internally feel warm and giddy.

Lips: it would be miraculous if they were still on their feet if they’re not being held up by something. Their faints and collapses depend on the types of kisses and how firm they are. For example, a long passionate French kiss instantly knocks them out, whereas a quick peck would make their knees wobbly. The only exception to this is if they’re kissed while asleep. Then they instantly wake up with a jolt and flushed faces.

Speaking of sleep, although mentioned earlier Daisy loves to leave kiss prints on Luigi’s face while he’s dozing, Peach loves doing the same with Mario. The difference between the princesses is their approach. Peach loves to leave delicate patterns such as hearts, circles, and even mushrooms. Daisy, on the other hand, just goes feral and plants her lips wherever there’s exposed skin.

On the flip side, in the rare cases where the brothers kiss the princesses, the princesses usually respond with flushed faces and giggles. The latter is mostly from being tickled by their mustaches.

They gasp and slightly blush from surprise pecks, normally on their cheeks. In the extremely rare cases when the princesses are kissed on the lips, they respond with wide eyes, wholly flushed faces, and are rendered speechless.

Miscellaneous Physical Contact

Mario

Mario loves to pat people on their backs, fist bump, high five, or wrap his arm around their shoulders in support. He mostly does this with Luigi, but he also does it with some of the Toads and other allies.

He doesn’t do this at all with the princesses, especially Peach. The rare times he’ll initially touch Peach are if he’s carrying her (mostly when he flies with her wearing a power-up) or running with her hand from present dangers like escaping from dungeons or running from hordes of enemies. Beyond that, he’ll offer a hand if he wishes to have contact with her and leaves it up to Peach to decide if she accepts (and is secretly thrilled when she does).

Luigi

As before, Luigi is similar to Mario except even more shy about it. The only time he’s really comfortable is around small children and animals he’s comfortable around, such as Polterpup and small friendly ones.

The rare times he’ll make physical contact with Daisy are when there’s imminent danger or if she’s too stubborn to back down from an argument or powerful enemy that they can’t defeat at the time. Daisy gets taken aback at first since Luigi rarely takes charge like that; however, she secretly appreciates his more assertive side.

Peach

Peach is a very affectionate person when it comes to physical contact. Outside of hugs, she loves to pat her Toads on the head as well as pet Yoshis and other animals.

Other forms of physical contact include gently patting someone on the shoulder or back, holding hands, and inviting Toad children to sit on her lap.

With Mario, she loves interlocking hands and elbows with him. She is the one who initiates the contact and doesn’t mind doing so. However, she’ll hint when she wants him to make the first move. These hints include commenting on the weather, subtly brushing her arms and hands with his, and offering her hand like he does with her (although this one isn’t a hint at all)

She also loves to caress his face with one or both of her hands. For the latter, she does it before or after kissing him, mostly on the nose, 95% of the time.

She loves to tenderly stroke Mario’s mustache. Although Mario isn’t super fussy about it, she doesn’t want to mess it up too much.

Something that isn't as known about her is that she's an avid tickler! She knows both Mario and Luigi are ticklish, especially Luigi. Luigi is pretty much a goner the moment she touches him. For Mario, however, she has to sneak up on him since straightforward tickles don’t affect him as much.

Daisy

Daisy is a physically affectionate person much like her princess counterpart. Whereas Peach is warm and tender, however, Daisy is more aggressive and energetic. With that said, she never means to be malicious with the people she cares about.

Besides hugs, her favorite form of physical affection is patting people on the back. However, as with her other actions, she overdoes it at times, usually ending with the person staggering if not faceplanting outright. One would think Luigi is the main victim, but surprisingly it’s not him. It’s actually Mario who is mostly on the receiving end. With him, it’s deliberate because she gets a kick out of seeing Mario’s flustered reaction.

She also has a habit of wrapping her arm around people’s shoulders. People tend to be cautious when she does this because it usually means she is either up to something or wants a favor. These are also accompanied by suspicious grins, adding to the atmosphere. The primary victim of this is Peach. Daisy uses this tactic when she wants Peach to do something with or for her.

As for her green bean, outside of hugging him to death, she loves to hold hands with him and will drag him from place to place, especially if he takes too long to join her. She is also fond of carrying him bridal style when the opportunity arises.

Despite her hyper nature, she can be tender when she desires. Again, these are mostly reserved for Luigi, especially when he’s feeling down.

She absolutely adores Luigi’s nose! Besides kissing it, she likes petting, gently massaging, and honking it. For the last one, she’ll do it when she’s feeling playful or if she’s upset with him, though not as hard. In fact, she’ll be beside herself if she hurts it in some form. She’ll caress it and kiss it in an attempt to make him feel better. Her love for his nose stems from Luigi confiding in her about his insecurity over it after it was made fun of by a girl who he had a huge crush on in high school. Because of that, she does everything to let him know his nose is fine the way it is.

She also loves to run her fingers through Luigi’s mustache. Luigi, unlike Mario, is very finicky about his ‘stache and gets slightly exasperated when she messes it up. However, at the same time he secretly enjoys the attention she gives it.

Well, that’s about it for now. Should I think of some more, I’ll add them. I’ll also try to clean this up more to make it look the best it can. In the meantime, I would love to read some headcanons about these four regarding this subject or if anyone has anything to add to mine. 😊