You sat slouched on the couch, shoulders heavy, staring blankly at the city skyline through the grimy apartment window. Self-doubt gnawed at you like a persistent itch—you felt small, insignificant, and completely incapable of handling the world. Tigra paced in front of you, tail flicking impatiently, while Jessica leaned casually against the doorframe, arms crossed, eyes narrowing with a mixture of amusement and exasperation.

“You’re sulking again,” Tigra said, voice sharp but concerned. “Do you think anyone’s going to notice if you just disappear into your own pity?”

You muttered something incomprehensible, staring down at your hands. The words didn’t come out right, your confidence drowned in a tidal wave of self-loathing.

Jessica pushed herself off the frame and sat beside you, close enough that you could feel her presence like a steady anchor. “You matter,” she said bluntly, tone softening just slightly. “Even if you don’t feel like it right now. You’re not invisible. Not to me, and not to Tigra.”

Tigra crossed her arms, tail swishing. “Yeah. Seriously. I’ve seen alley cats with more self-respect than you right now.” She crouched down slightly, eyes locking onto yours. “So we’re going to fix this, and we’re going to fix it now.”

Before you could protest, Jessica leaned closer, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear with her fingers. Her touch was gentle but deliberate, grounding you, making you realize that you weren’t alone. “You’re stronger than you give yourself credit for. You always have been.”

Tigra stepped forward, crouching beside you in perfect symmetry with Jessica. “And we’re not letting you sulk in silence. Not today, not ever. You’re going to remember who you are.”

Then, almost simultaneously, they each leaned in, pressing a soft, deliberate kiss to your lips. One after the other, in turn, the world narrowed to the heat of their touch, the brush of their hands, the undeniable message: you matter. You are loved. You are seen.

You stumbled back, laughter breaking through your tears as the tension in your chest began to unravel. “You’re insane,” you said, voice trembling. “Both of you.”

“Maybe,” Tigra admitted, smirking, tail flicking again. “But it works.”

Jessica nudged you with her shoulder, playful but firm. “Snap out of it, kiddo. You’ve got us. That’s all that matters.”

You leaned back between them, finally breathing, letting their warmth seep into every anxious corner of your mind. “Okay… okay,” you whispered, voice shaky but resolute. “I… I think I get it. I matter.”

Tigra’s grin was feral, mischievous. “You better. And if you ever forget, we’ll remind you. Over and over again, if we have to.”

Jessica’s smirk softened into a fond smile. “And don’t even think about running off to wallow alone. We’ll find you. Every single time.”

For the first time in what felt like forever, you believed them. You believed that, even in your darkest moments, there were people who would refuse to let you crumble. People who loved you, stubbornly and fiercely.

And in that small, cluttered apartment, with Tigra’s golden eyes gleaming and Jessica’s unwavering gaze holding yours, you felt a flicker of hope ignite. A reminder that you were not alone, and that sometimes, the right kind of chaos was exactly what you needed to find yourself again.

You laughed, softly, shakily. “Okay… okay. You win. I’ll try. I promise.”

Tigra and Jessica exchanged a victorious glance, smirks spreading across their faces. Mission accomplished—for now.