𔓐𑇓 All Too Much. All Too Little. All At Once.

𔓐𑇓 All Too Much. All Too Little. All at once.

(Hold me, Just stay here. Please?)

in which sprout comforts reader through a shutdown. reader is gender neutral and is heavily implied to be on the neurodivergent spectrum, but can be perceived differently.

☄️: This had been sitting in my drafts for a while. I have shutdowns quite often and it's been frustrating me. I'm at least proud to say I've finally finished this. I hope this can bring you, dear reader, some comfort too.

— featuring; sprout x reader

INCLUDES: SFW, hurt w/ comfort, established romantic relationship, poly! moonberrycake, but focuses moreso on sprout.

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Sprout had always been observant to those he held close. To Cosmo, to Astro, to you.

He was just observant in general.

He observes, and waits, until the right time to directly address the situation at hand.

Always straightforward. Always blunt.

Maybe even..mean to some few. Not that he means to. He tries, he really, truly does.

But as he watched you leave the room filled with others, noticeably quiet, noticeably different, noticeably upset,—he figured this time he'd try a little harder. A little softer. All if it meant helping you.

Especially now, when you don't even really remember how you got into this situation again. Nor can you really try to.

As much as you wanted to, you just.. can't. Couldnt.

Not right now.

Not when everything you felt would contradict itself one after the other constantly.

—It's too loud, yet too quiet. Too much yet not enough. Too bright, too dark—too much, too much, too much, too much, too—fuck!

You hated it. Hate, hate hate, hate, hated it!

Your entire body and mind felt like it was working against you, just for the sake of working against you!

You wanted to scream!

You wanted to cry.

You wanted to simply curl into a ball.

You wanted to hide, tucked away in the darkest corner of your room.

You wanted to sob loudly while clutching your head, tugging and pulling roughly at the edges just to relieve the constant ache, to just feel relief. To fall back into habits you told yourself you wouldn't do anymore because what else is there?

You wanted so much.

You don't even know how much time has passed, or if any has passed at all.

Were you really even in your room, or were you still the dummy in the corner, simply staring, simple observing, barely even there as toons would interact each other so naturally.

It hurt.

You wanted everything and nothing, you wanted—

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A hand.

..A hand—?

A hand pulls you from your thoughts.

Its light, yet firm. Just enough to ground you without being overbearing.

Your vision is blurry. From tears, you had no idea, (were you even crying?)

Regardless, your eyes tried to focus on the hand clasped in yours. Not needing to look up to know who it was. Not really.

You wanted to say something. Anything. You needed to. Yet as your tongue remained heavy, and body remained still, you're left with the crumbling realization you couldn't.

You couldn't really see the expression he wore, too focused on the dread you felt at even being seen, but you remain anyway, trying to steady your breathing.

He squeezed your palm. His voice quiet. The most quiet you've heard of the berry, really.

"... okay... okay,—Okay, Is this alright? Can I touch you?"

His fingers moved to tread your palm, a bit firmer this time as your sluggish mind barely kept up, but nodded anyways.

He seemed to be relieved by that, lifting both of your hands to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles in response.

"okay—you're doing great, okay? Can you talk?"

You shake your head immediately at the question, seeming to wilt further into yourself. It's subtle, but it's there.

He softens at this, then nods. Lowering both of your hands once more, moving to press his thumb onto your palm.

To see you in such a state hurt him.

He wanted to help, even if clumsily, even if he didn't even know how to handle emotions himself, Just as long as you know he's there.

"okay. okay, thank you, honey. That's okay, you're doing okay, you're doing good, you're doing so, so good."

He pressed his palm onto yours again, moving to interlace his fingers with yours instead. Each of his fingers pressing firmly onto each of yours. The pressure felt grounding. Nice.

You took another shaky breath. He mirrored it with his own, much louder as if to ease you back in. Guiding you, like he has many times before.

"we're already halfway there," he cooed softly, from where he sat in front of you, you could feel the heat radiating off him, realizing how cold you really were. You dared to look up. It was scary, but you did so anyway.

His face was filled with the same adoring look he always sent you. Loving. Unguarded. Something he only ever showed to you and the other two.

You felt undeserving of it.

Yet as your grip falters, and your thoughts drift, his voice brings you back.

"... it's going to be okay," another squeeze, and you could feel your tears well up again, blinking them away, "I know it doesn't feel that way right now, I know it feels stupid, but we've gone through this before, and we'll go through it again, okay? So breathe."

You nodded, trembling. Though you didn't get as much as a single breath before tears come rushing again and you're left clamping your mouth shut, stubbornly silencing yourself as if to save you any further humiliation.

It doesn't work.

You were already here.

Your hands clenched against his own, surprising him as you fell into him entirely, collapsing. Burying your face into his scarf, shaking with every stubborn breath you refused to let go.

But Sprout wouldn't have that.

Not as he wrapped his arms around you firmly. Not as he returned the tight grip you had on him, knowing you well enough to know the pressure would help you.

Not as he mumbled soft words and sweet nothings like he has countless times before.

"It's okay, you're going to be okay, please cry, be as loud as you want I promise, it's just us. Doors locked, everyone's still at the party, I promise. "

So you did. It was quiet, at first. Nothing but your shaky breathing filling the room before you eventually broke, sobbing loudly against him, gripping so tightly you were afraid he'd let go.

He didn't.

"It's okay. I'm here. Im right here sweetie—I'm here. "

"I'm sorry—" you hiccuped, struggling to breathe, "I'm sorry, I'm so, so, so sorry."

His chest ached at your apologies. His hand rubbing your back in soft, circular motions for every broken sob that would leave your body.

He knew by now it's an old habit you still have trouble letting go of. Especially given your former 'handler' . He doesn't blame you for it, but he's sure as hell determined to convince you otherwise.

"You absolutely have nothing to apologize for, okay?" He murmured softly, moving to pull away briefly. His hands move to cup both of your cheeks, thumb gently wiping away stray tears.

You trembled under his hold, refusing to meet his eyes. You can't. You couldn't.

"I wish it felt that way." You whispered. Voice so quiet he nearly didn't pick it up, if not for how close he was to you. "I shouldn't—" Your fists clenched, digging your nails into your palm, "I shouldn't be like this. I should be better."

You were frustrated at yourself. He could tell. He knew. He knew that look. The same look you'd give yourself every time you'd make so much as a small mistake or when you began spiralling onto old habits.

"I hate it. I hate it so much, Sprout." You mumbled, shutting your eyes tight, leaning away to hold yourself, wanting for anything to make this feeling stop.

The room was silent for a while.

Part of you feared Sprout had just enough of you, when,-

"This isn't your fault." He said, firm yet gentle in the way his voice cut through the thick silence.

Slowly, he leaned closer, far enough to give you the chance to pull away, yet close enough to reach you. His palm rested onto your arm.

"—It never has been. Okay? It never will be."

Though you were hesitant, you tilted your head to look at him.

By now your hair was far too messy to be presentable, and face too worn to be pleasing...Yet..He smiled.

He smiled at you.

How could he smile at you when you were like this?

Your lips contorted into a wobbly frown, shaking your head. Slowly, your hand moved to rest on his shoulder, pulling yourself closer, if only subtly.

"... 'm sorry." you croaked out, gripping his shoulder a bit tighter. His other hand moved to rub your back, a silent nod to continue. "I.. I don't know why this happened again. I didn't want it to, I promise."

He softened, moving to hold you properly, his arms wrapping around your torso as he pulled you closer, kissing the top of your head. "Do you want to talk about it?" His voice was softer. Quiet. It was a welcome change compared to the loud chatter outside. Now muffled as the doors were comfortably locked.

There was silence for a while. Not that Sprput minded. He'd patiently wait for you any time, that he was sure of.

Eventually though, you do answer.

Your voice was quiet, at first. Unsure, yet honest. Maybe foolishly so, but what else was there to hide, at this point?

A soft sigh escapes you as you burrow your face into his scarf, finding comfort in the familiar scent.

".. I..I dont know.". You mumbled softly, eyes falling shut. You were so tired.

"Everything was just....So loud. And the lights were so bright. Too bright— I hated it." You mumbled quietly. ".. It's like, " you paused, mulling over the words, ".. It's like everything hitting me, all at once. All at the same time. And it feels bad... it's just..so..." You trailed off quietly, before letting the thought go,

"—Sorry." you breathed out, hands feeling clammy as you buried your face further into his scarf, voice muffled, " Sorry I'm, uhm—I'm rambling."

"No, no—" he pulled back, placing your hands on top of his, "By all means, I'm glad you're rambling...You're being open." He spoke softly, his thumb rubbing your palm in slow circular motions. ".. That's a step forward, right?"

You blinked at him, a bit taken aback by the response.

Huh.

That... That was much more positive than what your brain had been conjuring up over the past few months, that's for sure.

You stared at him, your throat felt dry.

"... You,.." you trailed off, hesitating near the end, ".. You're not mad?"

"I—what?" His eyes widens at the question as if you had told him the sky was brown of all things before swiftly recovering, squeezing both of the hands that were clasped in his, voice so resolute it left no room for doubt,

"No- what? Of course not. Worried, sure. But mad?"

He shook his head, moving to press his forehead against yours, sighing softly.

"Of course not. None of us are."

His hands rubbed soft circles onto your palm,

"We just want you to be okay. We love you. I love you. And this—?" He motioned his hands dismissively, " This doesnt change that. Especially, because, it's out of your control."

A small smile forms on your lips at this, feeling warmth spread through your face, chuckling quietly. You feel tears prick your vision, almost wanting to pull away out of embarrassment if it wasn't for Sprout's iron grip on you.

He smiled back, softly rubbing the tears away with his thumb. "I love you." He repeated.

"I love you. All of you." He mumbled softly, moving to press a kiss to your wet cheek, making you yelp as you giggled. He grinned at the sight.

You settled down quickly, your fits of giggles dying out before shaking your head, feeling flustered, yet.. better. So much better.

There was a lull of silence for a while, yet it was comfortable, with you two simply holding each other, and enjoying each other's warmth.

You'd smile as he'd traced silly random patterns onto your skin, every now and then he'd press a kiss onto them, whether they were scarred or not.

".. I don't deserve you." You spoke after a while, making him scoff, pulling away as he gave you a look of mock offense.

"Please." He clicked his tongue, crossing his arms. "Don't be stubborn with me, Because I'm telling you now, you won't win. Ask Cosmo."

* Don't ask Cosmo. Oh boy don't get him started.

You laughed, quiet yet warm. He smiled at the sound, feeling relieved at how you seemingly were returning to normal. Slowly, yet surely.

"You deserve everything and more," he spoke your name lovingly, making you smile like a lovesick idiot, "Don't let anyone convince you otherwise, yeah?" Kiss. He pressed another kiss to your other cheek, earning a bashful grin from you as you halfheartedly shoved him away.

"Pft, going soft on me now, Sprout? What's next, you'll let me whip somethin' up in the kitchen?" You grinned, wrapping your arms around the sides of his face.

He leaned his face closer, cupping the hand that held his cheek, narrowing his eyes pointedly,

"Oh you wish. You are not stepping foot near my stove after your last little cooking-fiasco with Gigi and Finn. Leave the dreaming to Astro, okay?"

You cackled, letting yourself laugh louder this time as your forehead bumped into his, giggling. A silly smile rested on your lips, eyes landing onto his, "You're such a dork."

A snicker bubbles from his throat at the remark, voice dropping to a whisper as you two grew closer, "Says you."

You grinned, moving to close the gap between you two, sighing softly as you relaxed into the kiss, lips pressing softly against his before pulling away. His gaze was soft, as he looked at you, "I love you."

And, without missing a beat,

"I love you too."

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—The other two are relieved to find the both of you later, asleep and safe in each other's arms.

Your dreams are filled with comfort.