Chapter 1: Sprout has fucking bpd
Chapter Text
“Sprout?”
The berry looks up from the daze he was in, eyes unblurring and staring towards who was interrogating him.
“Yeah?” He hums, bouncing his knee.
Vee blinks at him, her gaze switching between him and the flower next to him, Dandy, who was there for emotional support. “You were spaced out again.” The TV leaned back in her chair, scribbling something onto a notebook she had. “And, you’ve been avoiding all the questions i’ve been asking you,” She adds, gazing up at Sprout again.
Sprout bites his lip, making a sound. “I’m not trying to.” He inhales. “I just-” A hand falls to his thigh. His eyes flick in the direction the feeling came from. Dandy was looking at him with a comforting face. Sprout’s lips quiver at the sight. He doesn’t want to just spill how he’s been feeling–but he does want to figure out what's wrong with him.
“Nervous is all..” He finishes with a sheepish smile. Vee blinked at him again before she nodded, flipping a page in her book. “Okay,” They clicked their pen twice. “Dandy says you’ve been having these.. Reactions to whenever he leaves for a break after some tension you guys have,” The TV states.
Sprout blinks, recalling multiple events as she said that.
.
.
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“I’m just– Stressed, okay?” Dandy rubbed his temples, then stroked one of his petals. “I’m gonna go out for a bit.” He turned to the door, ready to leave Sprout in the room. The berry walked up to him, hand latching onto his. “No,” He shook his head, his nervous smile fumbling by the seconds. “I promise I can help you feel better.” He pulled Dandy towards him.
The flower frowned, his free hand reaching to cup Sprout’s cheek for a bit before he forced his arm away. “No, It’s okay,” He placed his digits around the knob. “I’ll be back, okay? I just need a few minutes.” Sprout wasn’t having it.
“Dandy, please,” Sprout held onto him again, his smile gone. “Please don’t go.” He pleaded, eyebrows furrowed. Dandy stared at him with concern. Not this again. “Sprout..” Dandy faced him. He sighed, clearly not in the mood for this. He had a lot on his mind already, he couldn't deal with another one of Sprout’s tantrums.
“Please- You- Don’t leave me-” Sprout wrapped his arms around Dandy. “You want to leave me, don’t you? You’re gonna leave and come back hating me.” He adds, eyes watery. Dandy grumbled, holding Sprout back. “I’m not leaving you, babe, I just need some time to myself, okay?” He reassured, pulling away.
Sprout stared down at him with disbelief. “O-Okay,” Part of him wanted to cling to Dandy, hold him back more, keep him here so he could fix him; but he couldn't. What if he was being annoying and then Dandy would actually leave him? “You can go- I’m sorry.”
The flower’s eyes lingered on him for a while before he turned back to the door. “I love you,” He stated. That made Sprout’s heart do a little backflip. He cracked a tiny smile. “I love you too!” He chirped.
.
.
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The berry nodded slowly. “Yes..” He confirmed the accusation. “I just- I don’t know, I get this feeling that if I do the wrong thing toons are gonna leave me and- and-” I can’t be alone, is what he was gonna say before he bit his tongue. “I don’t know.”
“Oh, Sprout..” Dandy pulled him into a side hug, to which he happily returned. “It’s nothing you should really worry about, to be honest,” The berry said as if he hadn’t just spilled the confession of the century. Dandy’s brows curled upwards and his frown deepened. “Sprout, this is a big deal.”
Vee made a noise, redirecting their attention to her. “Right..” She looked over her notes. “It sounds to me that you have terrible abandonment issues.” They tutted, glancing at Sprout for a bit before continuing their interrogation. “Anyway, next thing. Me and the others have noticed you have awful mood swings.” Vee commented. “Mind explaining what could be stressing you out?” They queried.
Sprout thought about his reply before muttering a simple; “I don’t know.”
“You don't know?” Vee repeated.
“That's what I said.” He spat.
Dandy traced his hand down Sprout’s side. “Hey, relax.”
Sprout looked down at his hands, his wrists. Dandy noticed him staring at the healing flesh, a sigh escaping his lips. “How about you just tell us how you feel? Okay?” His other hand gently traced a scar on Sprout's arm.
The berry took a breath before starting,
“I don't know how to explain it. I- I have these times where I feel like I can do absolutely anything and- And everything is going great! Yeah? It's just good and then-” He exhaled. “-then I feel like--nothing. Like, all that euphoria I had just vanished. I feel at my lowest even when nothing's wrong and sometimes I want to feel something, anything so..” He paused, turning his head elsewhere.
Dandy rubbed his shoulder, reassuring him that it was okay to continue if he wanted.
“I sometimes hurt.. Myself. I- I don't like doing it but it just feels like the only escape other than killing myself.” Sprout announced.
“Do you want to.. Kill yourself, Sprout?” Vee asked with concern.
“I don't know.” The berry sighed. “I'm afraid of dying- Leaving forever but it gets too much at times and I just don't know what to do anymore.”
Vee took that in, thinking of a response since Dandy clearly had nothing to say. She tapped the armrest of the chair she was in. “It'll get better eventually, y'know,”
“No it won’t.” Sprout glared at them. “It won't. You don't have to lie, okay? I just-” He leaned back, pinching the space between his eyes. “False hope doesn't work for me.” He enunciated.
Vee nodded, writing that down. “Alright,” They ‘sighed’. “I'll be very brutally honest from now on.” Somehow, that felt better to hear.
Silence follower after that. Sprout took that as the permission to continue his rant.
“There's these times where I switch up on someone.” He tapped his chin. “Like, last week, me and Cosmo were as close as usual but now- I dunno, it's like his presence just makes me upset.” He states. “I feel bad for acting so rude towards him, and I don't know why all of a sudden I don't want him near me.”
Vee raised her brow. “Does this happen just with Cosmo or..?” They clicked their pen.
Sprout looked at Dandy. “No..” He said, feeling guilty he'd act this way towards his own partner at times.
Vee wrote that down. “How long do these switch ups last?”
Sprout thought about it, recalling the last time he felt this way about Cosmo. “It changes, sometimes it's a few days, others it's a week or weeks.”
The clicking of Vee's pen filled the room again, somewhat soothing Sprout’s nerves.
“Okay,” They hummed, eyes trailing across their notebook. They seemed to be reading something now. “What are your opinions on everyone around you?”
Sprout raised his brow. “How is that necessary?” He quipped, dumbfounded.
“It's so I know what I'm diagnosing you with.”
The berry formed an ‘o’ shape with his lips before he replied softly. “It's weird, to be honest.” He clicked his tongue. “If someone does something I don't like, my view on them changes completely.” He explained.
“Do you see it in black and white? Aka, them being a good toon or a bad toon.” Vee crossed her legs. “Or, do you see them in between at times. Like, if I were to call you an insult but then act all friendly with you, how would you view me? Would it be somewhat rude but mostly nice?”
Sprout furrowed his brows. “Definitely black and white. If you called me that, I'd think of you as a terrible toon–no offense.” He pondered aloud. “But, some toons here, I think of more highly than others.” His face turned to Dandy.
“It might be.. Bad but.. I favor Dandy more than I do with anyone else,” He placed his hand on Dandy's, rubbing it with a small smile. “And if he were to do that..” Sprout narrows his eyes.
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.
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Sprout thought it would be funny to play a harmless prank on Dandy.
He had sprinkled some flour on the flower when he wasn't looking. Dandy didn't take it too well.
“Sprout– I'm not in the mood for this..” Dandy scoffed, brushing the flour off his suspenders. “Why would you even- Ugh.” He mumbled, grumbling after.
Sprout felt guilty, his previous smirk falling. “Sorry, I thought it would be funny- I didn't know you weren't.. In the mood.” He looked away.
“It's okay, really! It's not your fault at all.” Dandy reassured with a soft smile, trying to calm himself.
Sprout didn't believe that.
Later, when he was alone, he stuck to his room, on his floor curled in on himself. Dandy probably hated him now. God, he was so stupid. Why'd he even do that stupid prank?
Sprout wiped his eyes, a frown etched across his face. He wanted to disappear. He felt so terrible for the smallest inconvenience. Dandy told him it was fine--why was he acting like the world was crashing onto him??
He should just die. Maybe then Dandy wouldn't have to deal with his stupidity.
A knock on his door snapped him from his thoughts.
“Sprout?” Dandy.
“I found a tape from when we were younger– Wanna watch it with me?” The flower sounded so excited and giddy in contrast to how defeated Sprout felt. “No,” That burned coming from his mouth. He wanted to spend time with Dandy but.. His brain.. His body just couldn’t.
“Aww.. Maybe later?” Dandy pressed.
“Please leave me alone.” Keep showing me you care.
Silence followed after that.
“Is this.. Because of what I said?”
Sprout gulped, balling his hands into fists so had his nails dug into his palms. Now, he really wants to disappear.
Dandy didn't say anything right away. Through the door, Sprout could hear a soft shift, maybe a shuffle of his feet against the carpet.
Then, “Okay,” Dandy said, voice barely above a whisper. “But… I’m here. Whenever you’re ready.”
Sprout didn’t reply. He was afraid if he spoke, everything he was trying so hard to keep inside would just spill. All the shame, the panic, the ugly thoughts that spiraled out faster than he could contain them.
He sat there for what felt like hours—knees pulled up to his chest, head resting on them, the familiar ache in his chest growing heavier. Everything felt so empty in his head, the room itself was too quiet. It was that kind of uncomfortable quiet.
.
.
.
“.. Nevermind.” Sprout pushed down the memory, eyes turning back to Vee. “So.. What's wrong with me?” He asked a bit too forwardly.
“Mind telling me why even when toons tell me it’s okay, my brain’s just screaming at me that they’re lying. And if I try to believe them, it still feels fake. Like I’m being tricked. And then I get angry at them for trying to help me. And then I hate myself for that.” He sniffed, eyes feeling watery.
“I don’t know what the hell’s wrong with me..” He frowned.
Vee pitied him. “You have a lot of things wrong with you, and none of them are your fault,” They chose their words carefully. “This is just your brain responding to past trauma–And even if it isn't, you shouldn't work yourself up for something you can't control.”
Sprout wiped at his eyes. “Well, I hate being like this. I hate this- I hate myself!” He choked. “I hate that I'm so clingy, and that I wish for someone's downfall if they merely step on my shoe, that I keep yelling at my best friend over stupid shit, that I have to threaten others with my own life to feel recognized– I hate being me!” He spat, gritting his teeth.
Dandy held him close, pecking his shoulder. “I'm sorry you feel like this..” He muttered, pressing his face into the berry's arm. “I'm sorry I can't help you– I want you to get better, you know that right?” He looked up at Sprout.
“I want to get better. I really do.” The taller sighed. Dandy cracked a smile. “You're really brave for making that decision, gorgeous.” He traced his fingers in circles around Sprout’s hand.
Sprout shook his head, bitter. “I don’t feel brave. I feel like a burden.”
“You’re not.”
“I feel like one!” Sprout shouted, making the flower flinch. “God—You’re always comforting me, and always trying to help, and Vee’s probably just tired of hearing my crap already. And I keep pushing you all away and then begging you not to go, and who the hell even does that?!”
Dandy narrowed his eyes, not knowing how to respond. Vee did for him.
“Sprout, when we had the handlers, before Gardenview got shut down, did Sam ever.. Neglect you in any way?” Vee questioned, putting her book aside and leaning forwards.
Sprout didn't know how to reply to that. “I don't.. Think so..?” He said quietly, in contrast to how he felt earlier.
“I mean, they gave me everything I wanted.. I don't think they've.. Ever done that?” He cocked his head to his side in confusion.
“What about Delilah? Arthur?” The TV added.
“... When Sam wasn't available to come here, I'd have to be left with the other handlers. Since they'd be so busy with you guys, I'd be left watching TV and just- being so paranoid something was gonna get me- Y'know, usual baby stuff.” He finished with a short huff. “Arthur was nice, yeah, Delilah was a little.. Off at times.”
Vee nodded. “What about emotionally?”
Sprout scoffed. “Probably that. There would be times Sam would make fun of me for messing up on something, they'd just look intimidating sometimes if I did something that was discouraged–however I probably deserve that-”
“I'm gonna stop you there,” Vee raised their hand. “I don't think you realize but any form of invalidation, or humiliation while you're at a young age can be considered emotional neglect.” They explained. “Just like how a parent shouldn't be talking down on their child or much less making them afraid of them, Sam shouldn't have been doing that.” Vee pressed their glass against their screen in exhaustion.
“Oh..” Is all Sprout could muster. “I.. Didn't know..”
“How did you not figure out how wrong it was for you to be afraid of your own toon handler?- How did you think it was fine for them to be rejecting you like that?” Vee said exasperatedly.
Dandy scrunched up his face. “Don't talk to him like that.” He hissed. “This could've been happening to anyone, y'know. It's not just Sprout who could be going through something– Don't you ever blame him for something he can't control.” Dandy pointed an accusing finger at Vee. “Literally, you were just defending him but now you're blaming him for being young and naive like all of us were?!”
Vee shushed him before the two could argue. “Alright, alright, I'm.. Sorry.” They waved off Dandy. “Anyways, Sprout,” Vee picked back up their notebook, flipping through the pages once more. “I think I know what's wrong.”
Sprout's face lit up a bit, a bit of weight being lifted off his chest. “What? What's wrong with me?” He pursed his lips.
“You have borderline personality disorder.” Vee sighed. “It's a mental health disorder that affects how you feel about yourself,” They pointed at him. “-and others.” Their finger turned to Dandy before resting on their book again. “It includes the following:” Their screen presented a table, a bullet being shown for each thing they listed.
“A pattern of unstable and or intense relationships, fear of abandonment, impulsive and intrusive thinking, emotional instability, anger issues, feelings of emptiness, self-harm and suicidal thoughts–”
“You don't have to continue, I'm the one with it.” Sprout stopped her after that, feeling called out.
Vee's screen went back to normal. They flashed a ‘:]’ before turning to Dandy. “You, you're gonna have to be an even more understanding partner than you already are,” They rolled their eyes. “If you want tips, go ask Astro how he deals with Raz and Daz, those two have this too.”
Dandy gave her a thumbs up.
Sprout blinked. “So- So what do I do? Do I just- Go on with my day and brush off this information like nothing happened and keep on hurting toons around me because of my dumb trauma??” He squinted his eyes.
“Unfortunately, yes,” Vee seethed. “But, with a good support system, therapy, and a healthy lifestyle, you might just feel a little better.” She acknowledged.
Sprout nodded. “A little is better than nothing..” He smiled a bit. “Thanks.. For this, Vee.”
The TV waved her hand around, throwing the book she had to the side. “It's nothing, it's just what I do!” She let out a half-assed laugh. “Being the therapist for all you toons.. Love that for me.”
Dandy and Sprout glanced at one another. “Do you need someone to talk to?”
“Get out of my office.”
Chapter 2: When I Look Outside My Window I Can't Get No Peace Of Mind
Summary:
Another one!!
I have PTSD from a lot of stuff and this is how I feel sometimes,,
also I love Connie n Looey why r there no FICS OF THEM?!?!??title from consideration by rihanna..
Chapter Text
Connie awoke from her nightmare with a huff, holding her chest and gasping.
“Fuck..” She murmured, sitting up in her bed. Beside her was her girlfriend, Gigi, all snuggled up under the thick sheets since her room was fairly cold.
Lately, she's been having these recurring nightmares over her past. Gigi suggested she talk to Astro about them but.. They just feel too personal and she doesn't want to bother the moon.
So, each time she had a nightmare, she'd head on over to Looey–They'd be awake anyways.
Connie slid out of the bed, fixing the pillow on the side so Gigi wouldn't fall off in her absence. Then, she grabbed a tank-top from her dresser, throwing it over her head.
Connie took one more look at her room before phasing through the walls and into the hallway. It was dark, of course, the other light being the nightlights and Connie's ethereal form. She drifted past a few toons’ doors. Cosmo, Poppy, Yatta, Razzle and Dazzles’ despite the fact it was no longer being used. It took two more doors before she actually reached Looey's door.
The ghost glanced around the hallway before knocking her hand on the door. Once, twice, four times. A knock combo the two created so they knew who it was. A fee shuffling noises were heard before Looey's occasional squeaky footsteps echoed from the room.
The door was unlocked, showcasing a wide-awake Looey, dark, deep eye bags under their eyes--There was a blue lava-lamp illuminating a good amount of the room. They opened the door wider for Connie to float in.
“Can't sleep?” Looey quipped, shutting the door after Connie came in. “Not really.. Nightmares.” She responded, looking around the room she'd been in many times before. Looey clicked their tongue, a squeak being made for each step they made. “I think you should start talking to Astro about these nightmares, Connie.”
Connie rolled her eyes. “I don't wanna be a bother.” She took a ‘seat’ on the bed. Looey followed suit, picking up an art book they had earlier. “I don't think so. Isn't it literally his job to make sure we're sleeping normally?”
“I could say the same to you,” Connie remarked. Looey made a noise. “Unlike you, I've actually gone to Astro about my sleeping problems,” They stated. “But, seriously, what's the matter? Any idea why you have such recurring nightmares?”
Connie pondered for a bit. “I dunno, to be honest,” She shrugged, flipping back onto the bed, glancing at Looey as they scribbled into their book. “All my nightmares seem to be about my past.” She explained, placing her hands on her stomach. “And, it's weird ‘cuz I'm pretty sure I'm over all that happened.”
Looey paused on drawing for a second, sneaking a look at Connie. “Maybe, you think you're over it but in reality, you're really not.” They shrugged. Connie raised her brow. “What does that even mean?” She queried. Looey sighed, “I mean, maybe your brain is just responding to your trauma and you don't know it.” They resumed making their art piece.
Connie thought about it. “Huh..” She hummed.
“Can I trauma dump?” She sat up again, staring directly at Looey.
“Go ahead,” The balloon stuck their tongue out, focusing on their drawing.
Connie cleared her throat. “Sometimes, while I'm doing nothing, maybe just having a conversation, my brain just flashbangs me with memories of what happened.” She brushed a strand of her hair with her hands, keeping herself busy as she spoke. “And, I'm like, ‘what the fuck’ ‘cuz I should be over it by now,” She explained. “Like, it happened so long ago, why am I still bothered by it years later?”
Looey nodded to show they were listening.
The ghoul continued. “And, whenever people put their hands near my neck and stuff, I'm always flinching and just hoping they stop. I know they don't mean to cause any trouble but- but it just makes me so fucking uncomfortable.”
Looey stopped and turned to face her, a sympathetic expression on their face. “Have you told anyone about this?” They question, closing their book.
Connie shook her head. “No, it's not that bad. It's not like I start screaming and crying and begging they let me go- or- or I'm starting to hyperventilate because any form of physical touch to my neck reminds me of being choked to death.”
Looey stared at Connie.
“Connie, has that happened before?” They scooted closer, placing a paw on Connie's shoulder. She flinched.
“No,” The ghost muttered. “I feel like it might though.. If toons keep doing that.” She confessed.
Looey moved their hand lower, resting it on her hand. Connie relaxed at this, her head cocking to the side where Looey’s hand was for a moment.
“Connie, I'm no expert at diagnosing toons but- I think you might need to pay a visit to Vee or something..” They expressed their concerns. “Cause to me, it seems that you have some trauma related disorder that probably makes you panic if you get reminded of said trauma.”
Connie blinked.
“You wanna test it out?”
“I don't want to make you uncomfortable!”
Connie waved them off. “I just wanna see how far I can go! If it's really serious then I'll go to Vee or whatever..” She sighed.
Looey made a face. “I don't know.. What if you start screaming, crying, and throwing up all over me?”
“Looey, I'm not gonna flip out over you doing what I asked you to.”
The balloon whined but complied anyway. “Okay..” They mumble. “What should I do first?”
Connie pointed at her shoulder. “Put your hand on my shoulder again.” Looey did as told.
Connie shut her eyes, trying to focus on her breathing as Looey’s paw rested on her shoulder again. “Okay, that’s fine,” she mumbled. “Now try… moving it a little higher.”
Looey hesitated, but slowly slid their hand upward—barely an inch closer to her neck.
Connie stiffened immediately. Her breath hitched in her throat. Looey paused.
“That too much?” they asked softly.
“I—” Connie swallowed hard. Her fingers curled around the blanket on Looey’s bed. “Yeah. Kinda. But keep going… just a little more.”
“Connie…”
“I need to know, Looey.”
With a deep breath, Looey obeyed, inching closer toward her neck. Their touch was featherlight—nonthreatening, gentle. Still, Connie’s chest started to rise and fall quicker. Her mouth was pressed into a line, her eyes staring forward blankly. This felt familiar. Too familiar.
“Stop,” she croaked out suddenly.
Looey withdrew instantly, both hands in their lap. Connie blinked rapidly, bringing her own hands up to rub at her neck like she had to scrub the feeling off.
“Okay,” she rasped. “Okay. Yeah. That was—too much.”
“I’m sorry,” Looey said quickly. “You told me to, I didn’t mean to—”
“No, no, you’re fine,” Connie assured. “I told you to. This just… proves something, doesn’t it?”
Looey gave her a long look, quiet for a moment. “I guess,” they started, “Y’know you don’t have to power through it alone like this. You act like you’re not allowed to be hurt. Like your trauma needs a timestamp, or- or an expiration date.”
Connie didn’t answer right away. Her hands were still fidgeting—picking at the seam of a pillow, twisting the hem of her shirt.
“It’s just… hard,” she said finally. “Admitting that I’m still affected by it. Like I’m weak.”
“You’re not weak,” Looey said firmly. “You’re just haunted. And ghosts are allowed to be haunted, you know.”
That earned the faintest twitch of a smile from Connie. “You’re such a poet, Loo.”
“I’m serious!” Looey nudged her with their elbow. “You’re doing your best, but I think your best right now might be reaching out. Not testing your limits until they snap.”
Connie was silent again, but she didn’t float away or shut down. She just leaned back a bit, head tilted toward the soft hum of the lava lamp.
“…Think Vee would listen?” she asked.
“I think so,” Looey rubbed their neck, glancing away.
“…I’ll try tomorrow.”
Looey smiled at her. “Still wanna talk about this Orr..” They shifted the topic.
Connie shook her head. “Nah, we can talk ‘bout sumn’ else.” She crossed her arms. “Like the anime girl you're drawing.”
“CONNIE!”
Chapter 3: Hell's Kitchen
Summary:
smtimes! i gotta remind myself tht not everytime some1 touches me, theyre trying to hurt me
Chapter Text
“So,” Sprout wiped his hands off with a cloth, facing Cosmo with a small smile. “-what to bake?” He asked, leaning down to Cosmo's height.
The cake made a noise, humming. “Uhm,” He glanced to the side, pulling into his apron. “I was thinking something simple–cupcakes maybe.” Sprout nodded, already getting the ingredients from cupboards. “Okie-dokie!” He beamed.
Cosmo stood off to the side, messing with his apron as Sprout preheated the oven. A lot was on his mind today. It was really messing up his emotions--but he wanted to bake. That's the only reason he left his room this morning.
Sprout placed two bowls on the counter top, turning over his shoulder with a little grin. “Your half in this one, mines in that one,” he said, like he was teaching a class. “You get eggs. I’ll get the flour.”
Cosmo nodded slowly, moving toward the fridge. His hands were trembling a bit, but he kept them low, hoping Sprout wouldn’t notice.
He cracked an egg into the bowl. A little too hard. Shell shards slipped in, and he instinctively reached in to scoop them out—but the texture of the yolk made something twist in his chest. His breath hitched. Just for a second.
Sprout didn’t hear it. “So! Cupcakes. Do we wanna do chocolate or vanilla?”
Cosmo blinked, eyes locked on the egg. His mind was somewhere else now. Not in the kitchen. Not with Sprout. It was dark. Cold. Someone else’s voice.
Sprout laughed, still half-bent into the pantry. “Or like… Both? Ooh! Dandy would love that. Choco-nilla cupcakes.”
Still no answer.
“…Cos?”
He turned. Cosmo hadn’t moved. Just staring at the bowl. Face pale. Shoulders tensed.
Sprout stepped over, light on his feet, and reached out gently. “Hey, you okay? You–”
“Don’t touch me.”
It came fast. Sharper than Sprout had ever heard from him. Enough to make his hand freeze mid-air.
Cosmo’s voice cracked. “Just—don’t.”
The kitchen went quiet.
Sprout slowly pulled his hand back, expression softening. “Okay,” he said quietly. “I won’t.” He felt guilty.
Cosmo looked away, wiping his hands on his apron like he could scrub the moment off his skin. “Sorry,” he mumbled. “I didn’t mean to. I just—Sorry.”
Sprout’s smile was gone now, but his voice was still low. Steady. “You don’t have to explain. But… I’m here, okay?” He gazed away, trying to hide the shameful expression on his face. He made this best friend uncomfortable. How does someone manage that..
Cosmo swallowed, hard. His chest ached. He didn’t want to cry. Not here. Not now. And he didn't need Sprout to carry the burden of guilt.
“…Can we keep baking?” he asked, with a soft voice.
Sprout gave a little nod. “Yeah. Of course.”
They resumed baking. The atmosphere was stiff. Silence lingered between them other than occasional noises of utensils clanking against each other.
It was too quiet for either of their likings. Cosmo felt bad for his little outburst. He didn't mean to. It just.. Happened.
Sprout on the other hand felt absolutely terrible. He felt as if the whole world was against him. As if Gardenview was coming to crash down on him. He felt so guilty for the slightest incident. Should've known better. Should've been more careful, is what his brain told him. He had the urge to excuse himself and go release this negative energy in an unhealthy way.
This was bad. He felt himself wanting to jump off over being told the simplest thing? Stupid.
“Cosmo..” Sprout started. Cosmo looked up from the bowl he was busy with. “Hm?” He sounded.
“Are you..mad at me..?”
Cosmo sighed, narrowing his eyes. “No, Sprout, I'm not mad at you.” He reassured. “I promise what just happened wasn't your fault, okay? I'm just having a rough morning is all.” He cracked a small smile.
Sprout tiled his head, taking out a measuring spoon. “M'kay,” He extended his hand out to Cosmo, handing him the tool and some vanilla extract. “-can you?” He trailed off, hoping Cosmo got the message.
The cake took the items, holding his hands over the sink and measuring out approximately half a teaspoon of the extract. “Done,” He poured the extract into Sprout’s bowl with shaky hands, biting his lip harshly to calm himself.
Sprout hummed, getting a measuring cup and 1flour, motioning for Cosmo to do the measuring again. “You wanna talk about it?”
“About what?”
“What's on your mind.”
Cosmo formed an ‘o’ shape with his lips, keeping his gaze on the flour. “Oh.. Uhm..” He mumbled, turning to place the flour in. “Just.. Having memories is all.” He stated.
“Oh,” Sprout blinked. “Are you.. Okay with explaining or..?”
Cosmo furrowed his brows. “Not forcing! Just- It helps to let it out than keep it in, y'know?” Sprout clicked his tongue. “That's what Dandy tells me.”
The cake roll nodded. “I guess,” He whisked together the set of ingredients he had. Sprout prepared himself to listen.
“It's just.. I dunno. I'm touch-starved and all- and- and I want to be held and all that cute stuff,” Cosmo kepts his eyes on the task at hand. “But I can't help but be reminded of what happened everytime someone tries to show me affection.”
Sprout’s hands stilled over the sugar bag. He watched Cosmo stir, watched the way his knuckles trembled just slightly. The way his voice stayed steady even when the words didn’t want to come out.
“I think I hate that part the most,” Cosmo continued with a sigh. “Wanting something so bad, but getting scared the moment it’s offered.”
His voice cracked on the last word. He cleared his throat. Wiped his eye like there was flour in it.
Sprout poured sugar slowly, not saying anything for a second. Not because he didn’t have anything to say—he had too much. A storm in his throat. But he didn’t want to say the wrong thing again.
So he went for the truth.
“I know it’s not the same,” he started, voice quiet, “but… I get scared too. Sometimes when I’m alone I think I messed something up and everyone’s just being nice about it. Like I’m gonna wake up and everything’ll be gone.”
Cosmo paused, eyes lifting from the bowl.
Sprout’s fingers were dusted in sugar. He was still measuring with one hand, but his other fidgeted with the edge of his sleeve.
“I don’t think you’re bad for reacting that way, Cos,” he murmured. “I think you’re doing what you need to do to protect yourself. And that’s not stupid. Or wrong. That’s… Strong.”
Cosmo looked down again. “Doesn’t feel strong.”
Sprout let out a tiny breath. “Yeah. It never does when it’s real.”
They were quiet again for a moment, just the soft sound of batter being stirred, sugar shaking, a faint tick of the oven preheating.
Then Cosmo whispered, almost like he didn’t want Sprout to hear: “Sometimes I wish I could just be normal. Like I want to fall asleep without hearing things. Without feeling like something’s waiting to happen again.”
Sprout’s heart cracked right down the middle.
He put down the whisk. Wiped his hands again.
Then asked, softly, “Can I stand closer? I won’t touch. Just wanna be near you.”
Cosmo hesitated. His breath hitched again, just slightly.
“…Sure,” he said, voice tight.
Sprout stepped a little closer. Not too close. Close enough to show he meant it—he wasn’t leaving. That Cosmo wasn’t ruining anything. That he was still wanted.
They worked like that for a while. Quiet. Focused. Together.
It wasn’t perfect. It didn’t need to be.
The cupcakes came out nicely, even though Sprout forgot the timer for a minute, and Cosmo nearly dropped the tray when taking it out.
But they didn’t burn. They still came out golden, soft, warm.
Cosmo held one in his hands when they were done. It steamed a little in the middle.
“I didn’t think I’d make it through today,” he said. “But I’m… glad I did.”
Sprout smiled, tired but real. “Me too.”
microwavedasphalt on Chapter 1 Sat 26 Apr 2025 06:52PM UTC
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sarnon on Chapter 1 Sat 26 Apr 2025 11:46PM UTC
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