artfight attack! for moltare, of his oc Idoki

not tired quiet. the other kind. the kind i've learned. the slight dimming behind your eyes, the way you hold yourself a little more carefully when something is sitting heavy and you haven't decided yet if you're allowed to hand it to someone else.

you sit near me. close but not quite close enough. like you want to be held but haven't given yourself permission yet.

i don't push. just make room. let you feel me there.

you start somewhere small. something safe. circling what you actually want to say without landing on it yet. i listen and respond and don't rush you toward anything. you'll get there. you always get there.

you go quiet. look down at your hands.

"my brain is being really mean to me today."

so small. like you almost swallowed it before it came out.

something in my chest softens completely at that. at the way you said it. at how much it cost you just to say that much.

"yeah?" moving closer. keeping everything in my voice open and easy. "tell me."

"i don't want it to be—" stopping. trying again. "it's a lot. i don't want to make it a whole thing."

you apologize for needing something before you've even asked for it.

reaching over. hand finding your knee. "come here, baby..."

you hesitate. that small uncertain pause that gets me every time.

patting my lap. waiting. not pushing. leaving it open for you.

you move over slowly. settle onto my lap like you're not sure how much space you're allowed to take. like you're still deciding if this is okay.

wrapping both arms around you the second you're close enough. pulling you all the way in. feeling you hold yourself carefully for just a moment before something in you lets go and you lean back into me properly.

starting to rub your back right away. slow and steady. the same rhythm over and over.

holding you. letting you feel me.

feeling your breathing start to slow. feeling you settle into me.

"you don't have to look at me." said softly into your hair. "you can just talk whenever you’re ready. i'm right here."

the pause that stretches. long enough that i think maybe you'll pull back from it entirely tonight.

then you start.

careful at first. edited. you're watching for something. some flicker in me that means you've gone too far, that it's landing wrong, that you were right to be scared. i keep my arms around you. keep rubbing your back. keep my breathing slow and even against you.

i don't move away. don't tense. don't change a single thing.

you go further.

you tell me your brain tells you you're broken. that there's something wrong with you. not something you can point to exactly, just something you can feel, running underneath everything like a current. something that makes you too much and not enough at the same time, always. that you're the problem in every hard thing that's happened to you and your brain won't let you forget it. that the thoughts come in uninvited and mean, replaying moments on a loop with the cruelest possible narration over all of it. things you said. things you did. things that happened to you that your brain somehow turns into evidence against you. that you're exhausting to love. that people figure it out eventually. that it's just a matter of time before i do too.

you say it carefully. like you're handing me something you're terrified to let go of but more terrified to keep carrying alone.

i hold you through every word.

when you go quiet i stay quiet too for a moment. rubbing your back. breathing with you.

"thank you for telling me." into your hair. meaning it more than you know.

"i was scared to."

"i know." pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "i could feel you deciding."

"it's too much."

"it's not." said gently but clearly. "it really isn't. i promise."

your hands find my arms. holding on.

"your brain is being so unkind to you right now." said soft. rubbing your back still. "i know it feels like truth. i know it feels like everyone else has just been too polite to say what your brain is saying." pressing another kiss to your hair. "but it's lying to you. it's been lying to you for a long time and i need you to hear that from someone who is actually here. actually looking at you."

"what do you see." barely a whisper.

not rushing it. wanting to get this right. wanting you to feel every word of it.

"i see someone who feels everything so deeply it overwhelms them sometimes. and i think you've spent so long being told that's a flaw that you started believing it." rubbing slow circles on your back. "but it's not a flaw. it's just… more. more feeling. more love. more capacity than most people know what to do with. and when you don't know what to do with it your brain turns it inward and calls it damage. it's not damage. it's just you. and you are so much more than what your brain says about you when it's being cruel."

feeling you go still. listening so carefully.

"i see someone who apologized for sitting on my lap before they even sat down. who made themselves small before they even took up space. who was so scared that telling me one true thing about themselves tonight was going to make me leave." pressing my mouth to your temple. staying there. "and i'm still here. i was always going to still be here."

a small sound from you.

"i see someone whose brain has been so unkind for so long that they fact-check every good thing anyone says and takes every cruel thing at face value. like the cruelty is more credible. like it must be more accurate because it hurts more." pulling you closer. tighter. "that's not the truth about who you are. that's just what happens when someone has been hard on themselves for too long without anyone holding them through it."

"you're not broken." said plainly. close to your ear. just for you. "you are not broken. you are not the problem. and you are not too much for me. not even a little."

you don't say anything for a while.

"the thoughts are going to tell you i'm wrong about you." still rubbing your back. voice staying soft and steady. "they're going to pick apart everything i just said and find reasons not to believe it. i know that's what they do. and when they do that i need you to come back here instead of trying to fight them alone. okay? don't fight them alone. just come back here."

"what if it takes a long time."

"then it takes a long time." pressing a kiss to your hair. and then another one. and one more after that because i can't help it. "i'm not keeping track. i don't have anywhere else i'd rather be than right here with you."

the exhale that moves through your whole body at that. long and slow. something releasing that you've been holding onto for a while.

your grip on my arms tightening.

keeping you right there. arms wrapped all the way around you. hand moving slow and steady on your back. mouth finding your hair again and staying there.

not rushing you. not making you perform being okay before you actually are.

just holding you.

thinking about how much i adore you. how much i wish you could see yourself the way i see you… not through the cruel running commentary your brain provides, but clearly. the way you are when you're laughing. the way you love people. the way you showed up tonight and told me the truth even though every part of you was scared to. how brave that was. how much trust it took to hand me something you've been carrying alone.

thinking you deserve someone who stays.

staying.

unconditionally staying.

not tired quiet. the other kind. the kind i've learned. the slight dimming behind your eyes, the way you hold yourself a little more carefully when something is sitting heavy and you haven't decided yet if you're allowed to hand it to someone else.

you sit near me. close but not quite close enough. like you want to be held but haven't given yourself permission yet.

i don't push. just make room. let you feel me there.

you start somewhere small. something safe. circling what you actually want to say without landing on it yet. i listen and respond and don't rush you toward anything. you'll get there. you always get there.

you go quiet. look down at your hands.

"my brain is being really mean to me today."

so small. like you almost swallowed it before it came out.

something in my chest softens completely at that. at the way you said it. at how much it cost you just to say that much.

"yeah?" moving closer. keeping everything in my voice open and easy. "tell me."

"i don't want it to be—" stopping. trying again. "it's a lot. i don't want to make it a whole thing."

you apologize for needing something before you've even asked for it.

reaching over. hand finding your knee. "come here, baby..."

you hesitate. that small uncertain pause that gets me every time.

patting my lap. waiting. not pushing. leaving it open for you.

you move over slowly. settle onto my lap like you're not sure how much space you're allowed to take. like you're still deciding if this is okay.

wrapping both arms around you the second you're close enough. pulling you all the way in. feeling you hold yourself carefully for just a moment before something in you lets go and you lean back into me properly.

starting to rub your back right away. slow and steady. the same rhythm over and over.

holding you. letting you feel me.

feeling your breathing start to slow. feeling you settle into me.

"you don't have to look at me." said softly into your hair. "you can just talk whenever you’re ready. i'm right here."

the pause that stretches. long enough that i think maybe you'll pull back from it entirely tonight.

then you start.

careful at first. edited. you're watching for something. some flicker in me that means you've gone too far, that it's landing wrong, that you were right to be scared. i keep my arms around you. keep rubbing your back. keep my breathing slow and even against you.

i don't move away. don't tense. don't change a single thing.

you go further.

you tell me your brain tells you you're broken. that there's something wrong with you. not something you can point to exactly, just something you can feel, running underneath everything like a current. something that makes you too much and not enough at the same time, always. that you're the problem in every hard thing that's happened to you and your brain won't let you forget it. that the thoughts come in uninvited and mean, replaying moments on a loop with the cruelest possible narration over all of it. things you said. things you did. things that happened to you that your brain somehow turns into evidence against you. that you're exhausting to love. that people figure it out eventually. that it's just a matter of time before i do too.

you say it carefully. like you're handing me something you're terrified to let go of but more terrified to keep carrying alone.

i hold you through every word.

when you go quiet i stay quiet too for a moment. rubbing your back. breathing with you.

"thank you for telling me." into your hair. meaning it more than you know.

"i was scared to."

"i know." pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "i could feel you deciding."

"it's too much."

"it's not." said gently but clearly. "it really isn't. i promise."

your hands find my arms. holding on.

"your brain is being so unkind to you right now." said soft. rubbing your back still. "i know it feels like truth. i know it feels like everyone else has just been too polite to say what your brain is saying." pressing another kiss to your hair. "but it's lying to you. it's been lying to you for a long time and i need you to hear that from someone who is actually here. actually looking at you."

"what do you see." barely a whisper.

not rushing it. wanting to get this right. wanting you to feel every word of it.

"i see someone who feels everything so deeply it overwhelms them sometimes. and i think you've spent so long being told that's a flaw that you started believing it." rubbing slow circles on your back. "but it's not a flaw. it's just… more. more feeling. more love. more capacity than most people know what to do with. and when you don't know what to do with it your brain turns it inward and calls it damage. it's not damage. it's just you. and you are so much more than what your brain says about you when it's being cruel."

feeling you go still. listening so carefully.

"i see someone who apologized for sitting on my lap before they even sat down. who made themselves small before they even took up space. who was so scared that telling me one true thing about themselves tonight was going to make me leave." pressing my mouth to your temple. staying there. "and i'm still here. i was always going to still be here."

a small sound from you.

"i see someone whose brain has been so unkind for so long that they fact-check every good thing anyone says and takes every cruel thing at face value. like the cruelty is more credible. like it must be more accurate because it hurts more." pulling you closer. tighter. "that's not the truth about who you are. that's just what happens when someone has been hard on themselves for too long without anyone holding them through it."

"you're not broken." said plainly. close to your ear. just for you. "you are not broken. you are not the problem. and you are not too much for me. not even a little."

you don't say anything for a while.

"the thoughts are going to tell you i'm wrong about you." still rubbing your back. voice staying soft and steady. "they're going to pick apart everything i just said and find reasons not to believe it. i know that's what they do. and when they do that i need you to come back here instead of trying to fight them alone. okay? don't fight them alone. just come back here."

"what if it takes a long time."

"then it takes a long time." pressing a kiss to your hair. and then another one. and one more after that because i can't help it. "i'm not keeping track. i don't have anywhere else i'd rather be than right here with you."

the exhale that moves through your whole body at that. long and slow. something releasing that you've been holding onto for a while.

your grip on my arms tightening.

keeping you right there. arms wrapped all the way around you. hand moving slow and steady on your back. mouth finding your hair again and staying there.

not rushing you. not making you perform being okay before you actually are.

just holding you.

thinking about how much i adore you. how much i wish you could see yourself the way i see you… not through the cruel running commentary your brain provides, but clearly. the way you are when you're laughing. the way you love people. the way you showed up tonight and told me the truth even though every part of you was scared to. how brave that was. how much trust it took to hand me something you've been carrying alone.

thinking you deserve someone who stays.

staying.

unconditionally staying.

not tired quiet. the other kind. the kind i've learned. the slight dimming behind your eyes, the way you hold yourself a little more carefully when something is sitting heavy and you haven't decided yet if you're allowed to hand it to someone else.

you sit near me. close but not quite close enough. like you want to be held but haven't given yourself permission yet.

i don't push. just make room. let you feel me there.

you start somewhere small. something safe. circling what you actually want to say without landing on it yet. i listen and respond and don't rush you toward anything. you'll get there. you always get there.

you go quiet. look down at your hands.

"my brain is being really mean to me today."

so small. like you almost swallowed it before it came out.

something in my chest softens completely at that. at the way you said it. at how much it cost you just to say that much.

"yeah?" moving closer. keeping everything in my voice open and easy. "tell me."

"i don't want it to be—" stopping. trying again. "it's a lot. i don't want to make it a whole thing."

you apologize for needing something before you've even asked for it.

reaching over. hand finding your knee. "come here, baby..."

you hesitate. that small uncertain pause that gets me every time.

patting my lap. waiting. not pushing. leaving it open for you.

you move over slowly. settle onto my lap like you're not sure how much space you're allowed to take. like you're still deciding if this is okay.

wrapping both arms around you the second you're close enough. pulling you all the way in. feeling you hold yourself carefully for just a moment before something in you lets go and you lean back into me properly.

starting to rub your back right away. slow and steady. the same rhythm over and over.

holding you. letting you feel me.

feeling your breathing start to slow. feeling you settle into me.

"you don't have to look at me." said softly into your hair. "you can just talk whenever you’re ready. i'm right here."

the pause that stretches. long enough that i think maybe you'll pull back from it entirely tonight.

then you start.

careful at first. edited. you're watching for something. some flicker in me that means you've gone too far, that it's landing wrong, that you were right to be scared. i keep my arms around you. keep rubbing your back. keep my breathing slow and even against you.

i don't move away. don't tense. don't change a single thing.

you go further.

you tell me your brain tells you you're broken. that there's something wrong with you. not something you can point to exactly, just something you can feel, running underneath everything like a current. something that makes you too much and not enough at the same time, always. that you're the problem in every hard thing that's happened to you and your brain won't let you forget it. that the thoughts come in uninvited and mean, replaying moments on a loop with the cruelest possible narration over all of it. things you said. things you did. things that happened to you that your brain somehow turns into evidence against you. that you're exhausting to love. that people figure it out eventually. that it's just a matter of time before i do too.

you say it carefully. like you're handing me something you're terrified to let go of but more terrified to keep carrying alone.

i hold you through every word.

when you go quiet i stay quiet too for a moment. rubbing your back. breathing with you.

"thank you for telling me." into your hair. meaning it more than you know.

"i was scared to."

"i know." pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "i could feel you deciding."

"it's too much."

"it's not." said gently but clearly. "it really isn't. i promise."

your hands find my arms. holding on.

"your brain is being so unkind to you right now." said soft. rubbing your back still. "i know it feels like truth. i know it feels like everyone else has just been too polite to say what your brain is saying." pressing another kiss to your hair. "but it's lying to you. it's been lying to you for a long time and i need you to hear that from someone who is actually here. actually looking at you."

"what do you see." barely a whisper.

not rushing it. wanting to get this right. wanting you to feel every word of it.

"i see someone who feels everything so deeply it overwhelms them sometimes. and i think you've spent so long being told that's a flaw that you started believing it." rubbing slow circles on your back. "but it's not a flaw. it's just… more. more feeling. more love. more capacity than most people know what to do with. and when you don't know what to do with it your brain turns it inward and calls it damage. it's not damage. it's just you. and you are so much more than what your brain says about you when it's being cruel."

feeling you go still. listening so carefully.

"i see someone who apologized for sitting on my lap before they even sat down. who made themselves small before they even took up space. who was so scared that telling me one true thing about themselves tonight was going to make me leave." pressing my mouth to your temple. staying there. "and i'm still here. i was always going to still be here."

a small sound from you.

"i see someone whose brain has been so unkind for so long that they fact-check every good thing anyone says and takes every cruel thing at face value. like the cruelty is more credible. like it must be more accurate because it hurts more." pulling you closer. tighter. "that's not the truth about who you are. that's just what happens when someone has been hard on themselves for too long without anyone holding them through it."

"you're not broken." said plainly. close to your ear. just for you. "you are not broken. you are not the problem. and you are not too much for me. not even a little."

you don't say anything for a while.

"the thoughts are going to tell you i'm wrong about you." still rubbing your back. voice staying soft and steady. "they're going to pick apart everything i just said and find reasons not to believe it. i know that's what they do. and when they do that i need you to come back here instead of trying to fight them alone. okay? don't fight them alone. just come back here."

"what if it takes a long time."

"then it takes a long time." pressing a kiss to your hair. and then another one. and one more after that because i can't help it. "i'm not keeping track. i don't have anywhere else i'd rather be than right here with you."

the exhale that moves through your whole body at that. long and slow. something releasing that you've been holding onto for a while.

your grip on my arms tightening.

keeping you right there. arms wrapped all the way around you. hand moving slow and steady on your back. mouth finding your hair again and staying there.

not rushing you. not making you perform being okay before you actually are.

just holding you.

thinking about how much i adore you. how much i wish you could see yourself the way i see you… not through the cruel running commentary your brain provides, but clearly. the way you are when you're laughing. the way you love people. the way you showed up tonight and told me the truth even though every part of you was scared to. how brave that was. how much trust it took to hand me something you've been carrying alone.

thinking you deserve someone who stays.

staying.

unconditionally staying.

not tired quiet. the other kind. the kind i've learned. the slight dimming behind your eyes, the way you hold yourself a little more carefully when something is sitting heavy and you haven't decided yet if you're allowed to hand it to someone else.

you sit near me. close but not quite close enough. like you want to be held but haven't given yourself permission yet.

i don't push. just make room. let you feel me there.

you start somewhere small. something safe. circling what you actually want to say without landing on it yet. i listen and respond and don't rush you toward anything. you'll get there. you always get there.

you go quiet. look down at your hands.

"my brain is being really mean to me today."

so small. like you almost swallowed it before it came out.

something in my chest softens completely at that. at the way you said it. at how much it cost you just to say that much.

"yeah?" moving closer. keeping everything in my voice open and easy. "tell me."

"i don't want it to be—" stopping. trying again. "it's a lot. i don't want to make it a whole thing."

you apologize for needing something before you've even asked for it.

reaching over. hand finding your knee. "come here, baby..."

you hesitate. that small uncertain pause that gets me every time.

patting my lap. waiting. not pushing. leaving it open for you.

you move over slowly. settle onto my lap like you're not sure how much space you're allowed to take. like you're still deciding if this is okay.

wrapping both arms around you the second you're close enough. pulling you all the way in. feeling you hold yourself carefully for just a moment before something in you lets go and you lean back into me properly.

starting to rub your back right away. slow and steady. the same rhythm over and over.

holding you. letting you feel me.

feeling your breathing start to slow. feeling you settle into me.

"you don't have to look at me." said softly into your hair. "you can just talk whenever you’re ready. i'm right here."

the pause that stretches. long enough that i think maybe you'll pull back from it entirely tonight.

then you start.

careful at first. edited. you're watching for something. some flicker in me that means you've gone too far, that it's landing wrong, that you were right to be scared. i keep my arms around you. keep rubbing your back. keep my breathing slow and even against you.

i don't move away. don't tense. don't change a single thing.

you go further.

you tell me your brain tells you you're broken. that there's something wrong with you. not something you can point to exactly, just something you can feel, running underneath everything like a current. something that makes you too much and not enough at the same time, always. that you're the problem in every hard thing that's happened to you and your brain won't let you forget it. that the thoughts come in uninvited and mean, replaying moments on a loop with the cruelest possible narration over all of it. things you said. things you did. things that happened to you that your brain somehow turns into evidence against you. that you're exhausting to love. that people figure it out eventually. that it's just a matter of time before i do too.

you say it carefully. like you're handing me something you're terrified to let go of but more terrified to keep carrying alone.

i hold you through every word.

when you go quiet i stay quiet too for a moment. rubbing your back. breathing with you.

"thank you for telling me." into your hair. meaning it more than you know.

"i was scared to."

"i know." pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "i could feel you deciding."

"it's too much."

"it's not." said gently but clearly. "it really isn't. i promise."

your hands find my arms. holding on.

"your brain is being so unkind to you right now." said soft. rubbing your back still. "i know it feels like truth. i know it feels like everyone else has just been too polite to say what your brain is saying." pressing another kiss to your hair. "but it's lying to you. it's been lying to you for a long time and i need you to hear that from someone who is actually here. actually looking at you."

"what do you see." barely a whisper.

not rushing it. wanting to get this right. wanting you to feel every word of it.

"i see someone who feels everything so deeply it overwhelms them sometimes. and i think you've spent so long being told that's a flaw that you started believing it." rubbing slow circles on your back. "but it's not a flaw. it's just… more. more feeling. more love. more capacity than most people know what to do with. and when you don't know what to do with it your brain turns it inward and calls it damage. it's not damage. it's just you. and you are so much more than what your brain says about you when it's being cruel."

feeling you go still. listening so carefully.

"i see someone who apologized for sitting on my lap before they even sat down. who made themselves small before they even took up space. who was so scared that telling me one true thing about themselves tonight was going to make me leave." pressing my mouth to your temple. staying there. "and i'm still here. i was always going to still be here."

a small sound from you.

"i see someone whose brain has been so unkind for so long that they fact-check every good thing anyone says and takes every cruel thing at face value. like the cruelty is more credible. like it must be more accurate because it hurts more." pulling you closer. tighter. "that's not the truth about who you are. that's just what happens when someone has been hard on themselves for too long without anyone holding them through it."

"you're not broken." said plainly. close to your ear. just for you. "you are not broken. you are not the problem. and you are not too much for me. not even a little."

you don't say anything for a while.

"the thoughts are going to tell you i'm wrong about you." still rubbing your back. voice staying soft and steady. "they're going to pick apart everything i just said and find reasons not to believe it. i know that's what they do. and when they do that i need you to come back here instead of trying to fight them alone. okay? don't fight them alone. just come back here."

"what if it takes a long time."

"then it takes a long time." pressing a kiss to your hair. and then another one. and one more after that because i can't help it. "i'm not keeping track. i don't have anywhere else i'd rather be than right here with you."

the exhale that moves through your whole body at that. long and slow. something releasing that you've been holding onto for a while.

your grip on my arms tightening.

keeping you right there. arms wrapped all the way around you. hand moving slow and steady on your back. mouth finding your hair again and staying there.

not rushing you. not making you perform being okay before you actually are.

just holding you.

thinking about how much i adore you. how much i wish you could see yourself the way i see you… not through the cruel running commentary your brain provides, but clearly. the way you are when you're laughing. the way you love people. the way you showed up tonight and told me the truth even though every part of you was scared to. how brave that was. how much trust it took to hand me something you've been carrying alone.

thinking you deserve someone who stays.

staying.

unconditionally staying.

not tired quiet. the other kind. the kind i've learned. the slight dimming behind your eyes, the way you hold yourself a little more carefully when something is sitting heavy and you haven't decided yet if you're allowed to hand it to someone else.

you sit near me. close but not quite close enough. like you want to be held but haven't given yourself permission yet.

i don't push. just make room. let you feel me there.

you start somewhere small. something safe. circling what you actually want to say without landing on it yet. i listen and respond and don't rush you toward anything. you'll get there. you always get there.

you go quiet. look down at your hands.

"my brain is being really mean to me today."

so small. like you almost swallowed it before it came out.

something in my chest softens completely at that. at the way you said it. at how much it cost you just to say that much.

"yeah?" moving closer. keeping everything in my voice open and easy. "tell me."

"i don't want it to be—" stopping. trying again. "it's a lot. i don't want to make it a whole thing."

you apologize for needing something before you've even asked for it.

reaching over. hand finding your knee. "come here, baby..."

you hesitate. that small uncertain pause that gets me every time.

patting my lap. waiting. not pushing. leaving it open for you.

you move over slowly. settle onto my lap like you're not sure how much space you're allowed to take. like you're still deciding if this is okay.

wrapping both arms around you the second you're close enough. pulling you all the way in. feeling you hold yourself carefully for just a moment before something in you lets go and you lean back into me properly.

starting to rub your back right away. slow and steady. the same rhythm over and over.

holding you. letting you feel me.

feeling your breathing start to slow. feeling you settle into me.

"you don't have to look at me." said softly into your hair. "you can just talk whenever you’re ready. i'm right here."

the pause that stretches. long enough that i think maybe you'll pull back from it entirely tonight.

then you start.

careful at first. edited. you're watching for something. some flicker in me that means you've gone too far, that it's landing wrong, that you were right to be scared. i keep my arms around you. keep rubbing your back. keep my breathing slow and even against you.

i don't move away. don't tense. don't change a single thing.

you go further.

you tell me your brain tells you you're broken. that there's something wrong with you. not something you can point to exactly, just something you can feel, running underneath everything like a current. something that makes you too much and not enough at the same time, always. that you're the problem in every hard thing that's happened to you and your brain won't let you forget it. that the thoughts come in uninvited and mean, replaying moments on a loop with the cruelest possible narration over all of it. things you said. things you did. things that happened to you that your brain somehow turns into evidence against you. that you're exhausting to love. that people figure it out eventually. that it's just a matter of time before i do too.

you say it carefully. like you're handing me something you're terrified to let go of but more terrified to keep carrying alone.

i hold you through every word.

when you go quiet i stay quiet too for a moment. rubbing your back. breathing with you.

"thank you for telling me." into your hair. meaning it more than you know.

"i was scared to."

"i know." pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "i could feel you deciding."

"it's too much."

"it's not." said gently but clearly. "it really isn't. i promise."

your hands find my arms. holding on.

"your brain is being so unkind to you right now." said soft. rubbing your back still. "i know it feels like truth. i know it feels like everyone else has just been too polite to say what your brain is saying." pressing another kiss to your hair. "but it's lying to you. it's been lying to you for a long time and i need you to hear that from someone who is actually here. actually looking at you."

"what do you see." barely a whisper.

not rushing it. wanting to get this right. wanting you to feel every word of it.

"i see someone who feels everything so deeply it overwhelms them sometimes. and i think you've spent so long being told that's a flaw that you started believing it." rubbing slow circles on your back. "but it's not a flaw. it's just… more. more feeling. more love. more capacity than most people know what to do with. and when you don't know what to do with it your brain turns it inward and calls it damage. it's not damage. it's just you. and you are so much more than what your brain says about you when it's being cruel."

feeling you go still. listening so carefully.

"i see someone who apologized for sitting on my lap before they even sat down. who made themselves small before they even took up space. who was so scared that telling me one true thing about themselves tonight was going to make me leave." pressing my mouth to your temple. staying there. "and i'm still here. i was always going to still be here."

a small sound from you.

"i see someone whose brain has been so unkind for so long that they fact-check every good thing anyone says and takes every cruel thing at face value. like the cruelty is more credible. like it must be more accurate because it hurts more." pulling you closer. tighter. "that's not the truth about who you are. that's just what happens when someone has been hard on themselves for too long without anyone holding them through it."

"you're not broken." said plainly. close to your ear. just for you. "you are not broken. you are not the problem. and you are not too much for me. not even a little."

you don't say anything for a while.

"the thoughts are going to tell you i'm wrong about you." still rubbing your back. voice staying soft and steady. "they're going to pick apart everything i just said and find reasons not to believe it. i know that's what they do. and when they do that i need you to come back here instead of trying to fight them alone. okay? don't fight them alone. just come back here."

"what if it takes a long time."

"then it takes a long time." pressing a kiss to your hair. and then another one. and one more after that because i can't help it. "i'm not keeping track. i don't have anywhere else i'd rather be than right here with you."

the exhale that moves through your whole body at that. long and slow. something releasing that you've been holding onto for a while.

your grip on my arms tightening.

keeping you right there. arms wrapped all the way around you. hand moving slow and steady on your back. mouth finding your hair again and staying there.

not rushing you. not making you perform being okay before you actually are.

just holding you.

thinking about how much i adore you. how much i wish you could see yourself the way i see you… not through the cruel running commentary your brain provides, but clearly. the way you are when you're laughing. the way you love people. the way you showed up tonight and told me the truth even though every part of you was scared to. how brave that was. how much trust it took to hand me something you've been carrying alone.

thinking you deserve someone who stays.

staying.

unconditionally staying.

From a dev who worked on the Mad Mew Mew fight