#( babies.......)

I DID WAAAHHHH!!!!! I'm a little sad there are still a few adults (let me see baby Mappi pleeaaasseeee) but they've absolutely taken my heart ;--; Lil Fuuta playing knights in his lil star mask kills meeeee ;-; DESTRUCTIVE CHILD YUNO MY BELOVEDDDD! And I love that Es can play piano 😭(if we go by the logic that the other characters are doing things they canonically are skilled at/enjoy, that means piano is a genuine hobby of theirs ;----;) Also sobbing over infant Jackalope asdfds I want to hold him in my lap......

@lionfanged​ sent VALENTINE’S SMOOCHIES!

he had promised to be home for the day, as, after all, it was a holiday. not just any holiday, at that--a holiday for lovers, their first to be spent together, special in every possible way. but, alas, work had held him up, as he had texted proton. atticus would not be back home until late, long past when proton would reasonably be asleep, and promised most thoroughly he would make up for the lost time in every possible way when he could.

or so he claimed.

the reality came quietly creeping home, trying to step as carefully as possible to not alert any of the occupants of the house as crept in. success seemed to be had--the pokemon who had remained home snoozed, draping themselves across the living room furniture, and there he was, the man of the hour, propped up on the sofa, watching television. the noise of some show atticus cared not to pay any mind to was perfect, ample cover for his approach, and, after carefully setting aside the bounty that filled his arms, his hands swept downward, lips pressing to proton's cheek.

' happy valentine's. ' it was barely past noon. the late schedule had in reality been to provide some wiggle room to pick up the custom made plushes of a houndour and growlithe, snug at the hip, with a heart of black and teal between them at their front. that, and an overflowing bouquet of colorful, sweet-smelling flowers, sharing the coffee table nestled against the sofa with the perfectly hug-sized toy.

Never before has Valentine’s been this quiet.

Perhaps he’d grown much too used to the endless stream of admirers over the years -- amusement in the form of watching his underlings trip over themselves in hopes of a shot with their favorite Executive.

Yet it’s not the attention from those particular people that he’s come to miss. As a matter of fact, it’s great that he doesn’t have to put up with the awkward confessions any longer... It’s just that he’d much rather be kept busy by the object of his very own affections for a change -- disappointment reflected in his sour expression as he lounges across the sofa, still loafing around in nightwear with his hair tangled and half stuck to his face.

Atticus won’t be coming. Proton, in turn, has given up on trying to salvage the rest of the day, his phone flung to the opposite end of the couch where it can offend him no longer. Better to waste the day away not thinking -- just watching people tear one another apart on real-life courtroom dramas -- than to face the idea of a romantic occasion utterly alone.

...Well, save for the dogs currently warming his feet.

Strangely, he smells him before anything else. A sweet scent wafts on through, and before he can start to make out what it is, soft lips are upon him and confusion twists his face, cheeks flushed with color in a near instant.

To say that he’s mortified (caught so very deep in the midst of his sulking) would be putting it lightly. He startles in place, air escaping in a sharp gasp as his hands come up to try and smooth down his hair, embarrassed by the state he’s in.

He should be dressed, ready to face the day. And yet...

“But, I thought--”

He’d been fooled, but it isn’t as if he truly minds. The gifts go temporarily unnoticed in favor of seeking out the man himself, arms reaching out to embrace Atticus, pull him into the snuggle pile...

...And kiss his stupid, smug face.

“You’re in big trouble, mister!”