Chapter 1: what's the matter, goob?
Chapter Text
--- "KYAAAAHHH!!!! GET OFF MY SEAT, BLOT!!!!"
Goob squealed out, raising their sling-bag in a threat to attack them if they didn't follow. It was in the middle of class, and he had JUST came back from writing on the board, and this guy took his seat?? The other toon scooted over a bit, sitting beside their own friends instead.
Ahhhh... Goob hated 'toonschool'. How annoying. This is much more of an 'ego-depleting escape room', more than a school. Delilah is just teaching some math to the toons. Where else would they learn if not from here?
His classmates giggled, used to him being all loud and what-not! That was who he was after all! Blot gave him a side eye, clearly embarassed after Goob yelled at them! How rude..
Goob took out his notebook and pencilcase, ready to finally take notes in class! Which he hated, and thought wasn't important! Ughhh...
Most of the time, he just zoned out and drew on his notebook. He was naturally gifted, able to understand multiple hard equations in math despite not learning about it! 'Common sense',, he quoted.
But,,
He could hear his seatmates gossip about him..
He couldn't concentrate..
What now?
Praise just for knowing the solution to "If (2)/(x+y)+(3)/(x+y) = 1, and 2=(x+y), what is the value of ((5x-2)+(5y+4))/(x+y)? He just wrote 'i', for imaginary number. Delilah was syill thinking it over..
Was he wrong??
Did he misread an equation???
Ugh.. Too late to do anything.
....
Until he saw Yatta side-eyeing Shelly and Astro. They were gossiping, well, mostly Shelly..
The other day, Goob accidentally spread out that Astro had a crush on Boxten! Quite embarrassing, right? Haha!!.. Haha. Though, it cost them their friendship. And many other toons had a slight beef with him for it, despite not being included in that problem. Many care about Astro’s feelings.
He hated betrayal!!
He really did!
But he always had a habit of unintentionally making regrettable things and hurting his neighbors.
He didn't know why he was like this!!
"Hey! I was much more mad at Goob than you! HE was the one who told Boxten about your crush on him without your consent—" Shelly spoke, leaning over to Astro’s desk with her dinosaur tail wagging idly, not out of joy or anything.
"I know... I know. Can we,, PLEASE, not talk about this anymore? I'm just upset at him. I really expected better." Astro mumbled, looking away and trying his best to pay attention to the lesson.
..... Can't they shut up? Goob was guilty about it. He doesn't want to cry about it again. It's been 3 days.. Really. He was upset about it.. He hasn't done his homework, hasn't drawn a new page nor talked to his Achi. He couldn't believe how his fear of losing a close friend over a silly chat was worse than not being at the top of this school. Why... why is this—
KRRRIIIINGGGGG!!!!!! ///
"Class is dismissed!! I'm not like Arthur, the bell can dismiss you too."
A voice rang out the corner, silencing the gossips and making Goob snap out of his thoughts. Finally.. Delilah took a quick photo of Goob's simple answer, stating that the two given equations were inconsistent.
He quickly packed up his things, stuffed them in his bag, then ran off to his room. Gosh, he hated this.
"Achi, achi?", he called out to his sister, comparable to a pathetic lost dog waiting for it's owner. He really wanted company right now, he would hate to break down infront of everyone due to hearing them talk about his own mistakes again. Where was his sister? To comfort his stupid crybaby ass?
Right. Her girlfriend.
Ever since she came,,
It was like their familial bond was replaced.
What happened to the days where they ate lunch together?
When they played in the sandpit, making sand sculptures of other toons with their claws?
Is this what growing up feels like?
It doesn’t seem fun..!
Goob idly ran a paw against his bracelet-covered wrist, a small habit he had formed due to stress. He would unintentionally slash-flash someone while doing it, but no one seemed to notice. Maybe they just thought his fur clumped with dried blood was just some sort of paint this immature 'man' couldn't clean off by himself and needed the assistance of his sister because he was so—
"Goob. What the hell." Shrimpo's voice spoke out, in his usual somehow nonchalant yet anger-filled raspy voice. His four eyes stared at him, making Goob feel a bit... Eeeek!!!
Before he could react, Shrimpo grabbed his wrist and placed some of his own stupid friendship bracelets on him. He hated his little sister, she always made him 'friendship' bracelets in hopes to make him nicer. To Goob, this was.. a lot. A lot in a way, that he couldn't believe Shrimpo basically helped him.
"Hey, Shiloh. Want notes?" Goob managed to squeak out, voice barely above a whisper. Maybe he’s almost ashamed that someone could help him in this state. He went to grab his notepad on his sling-bag, before Shrimpo cut in.
"I don't think so. Actually, I listened. Do you expect that low of me?"
"Aaaahhhh... Not reallyyy... Sorry!!!! Really, sorry.. Hahaahh..."
"???. Are you judging."
"F-hey!!!! Shiiii.. you know I would never.. I'm sorry if you thought tha—"
"Is that what you always call me 'Shi' or 'Shiloh'?? You think I'm.. Shit."
". . . . Wuh."
"????? You know what I'm.."
Shrimpo trailed off, lips closing before an eyeroll. He thinks he didn't deserve to waste his time with someone like Goob, despite being somewhat close to him. ".. I shouldn't waste my time with the likes of you." He crossed his arms, paws gripping tightly against his own skin.
"Ah, Shil—Shrimpo.. Sorr—"
"Don't. You dare. Just shut up. And don't break those bracelets I gave you."
"... I didn't do anything wrong!! Hey!"
“I know. Don’t blame yourself again. If you want to talk to me, then atleast you can help… Kill ants.”
“H-WHAT!!!”
Ufufufu.. Goob stared dumbfounded, watching Shrimpo take out his magnifying glass, and then going towards the small gate where sunlight barely passed through.
Goob gasped and quickly pushed the magnifying glass away from Shrimpo's hands.
"No, no, no! We can't burn any ant!" He picked up one of tiny creature gently in his fluffy paws, as an example. "Look how small and cute it is! It has a whole life ahead of it!”
…. Shrimpo stared for a moment, then gave Goob a heavy high-five, ultimately crushing thw ant between their paws. He was surprisingly not as mean today, maybe this was the next stage to their friendship!
Goob's eyes widen as he feels the tiny insect crushed in his hand.
"Sh-Shimpoooo.." He gasps, looking at their intertwined hands covered in the ant's remains. "That was an actual living thing... you squashed it..”
“So? What if it bit you.”
“It had a reason to.. Unlike g-YOU KILLING IT..!”
The atmosphere around them thickened with tension. Shrimpo could see the hurt in Goob's eyes, the aftermath of his thoughtless joke. He let out a sigh, feeling a pang of guilt but refusing to show it.
"Tch. It was just a stupid ant. Why're you making such a big deal out of it?"
He muttered, crossing his arms and avoiding eye contact.
“.... Well..”
“????. Wut now..”
“Nothing!! Just stop killing ants!!!! Meanie!”
Goob grumbled, crossing his arms and rolling his eyes.
Maybe, deep down, he really enjoyed Shrimpo’s company. Despite him being a bit rude.
. . . .
Before he knew it, it was already dinner, with him grabbing a larger plate of rice, bacon, and eggs.
He quietly sat on a secluded corner, watching the other toons eat peacefully with his envious glare.
Scraps was eating her steak properly with a knife, fork, and a napkin on her chest to prevent the juice from spoiling her origami paper self.
Teagan ate her mashed potatoes, somehow elegantly while she gossiped to Tisha and Brightney about Shrimpo, her pseudo-son.
Shrimpo, meanwhile, ate without a care in the world as he scraped the plate with his claws and got the potato chowder all over the clean white tablecloth.
And then, there was Sprout. Already done serving everyone with his 'best friend', already going over to his partner with a plate of food. Another time his partner caught his desperate attempt to lose all that weight as soon as he reached the bathroom..
Sprout's love language was giving food to the people he loved.
Wether it be baking cakes, trying out some recipes Sam taught him,,
He loved cooking.
He loved his loved ones enjoying the meal he ate.
It made him feel worth.
".. Hi, Sprout." Goob croaked, looking away pitifully with paws pressed stiffly against his lap. He almost flinched just at the feeling of his partner's hand raised slightly.
"Gooby!! How come Shrimpo has a cute little nickname and I don't?? I'm yer partner, shouldn't I be more deserving than that pesky little ankle biter?"
He grinned, though the type that didn't quite reach the eyes, as he watched Goob try to scoop a spoonful of rice. He was tired today, so he just felt content seeing his partner eat.
Goob shifted in his seat, his paws flexing and resting. He feels Sprout's burning gaze on the new arrival on his partner's wrists, Shrimpo's friendship bracelets. They had letters, spelling out 'Shrimpo<3' and 'bestbro4evr'.
"Oh, what is.." Sprout spoke lightly, his grin morphing into a face of annoyance. Did Goob relapse. After the countless times he told him not to? He attempted to reach for Goob's wrist, only for the other boy to squeak out;
"He-GAAAAAHH!!!!"
Goob flinched backwards, almost dropping his spoon. He seemed almost afraid of his partner, but why? Quiet. The whole canteen was quiet. Even Shrimpo, who usually didn't care, had his tail raised up as he felt a slight rage forming in him. Despite his careless behaviour for everyone, he still valued anyone who even tried to be his friend. One of them was Goob.
Why would Goob flinch so hardly in reaction to his partner's movements.
".. Uww!!! I'm so sorry, sorry everyone.. Sorry, please forgive me,, please, I didn't mean to scre—"
He squealed out, embarassed and trying to grab tissues from the small box infront of him. Tisha just stared dumbfounded at how much tissue was wasted; That could be cleaned faster with wipes!
"Goob—"
Astro croaked out, before Shelly hripped on his blanket and pulling him back to his chair.
Sprout, feeling a bit concerned, grabbed a small kitchen towel to clean the glass of water spilled on the table.
"Hey, bee, ya good?? I can help clean up yer shirt later! Shrimpo, since these bracelets seem to be from you, are you promoting his—"
"NO??? I DON'T CARE ABOUT THAT!!!" Shrimpk interjected, almost choking on his food mid-bite. He just wanted Goob to feel less guilty about relapsing! Based on his own silent experiences, it was a step to recovery!!! "How about YOU shut your big ass up and let me eat."
"GUYS!! GUYS!! PLEASE..! I'm sorry.."
Goob whimpered, staring at the water-spilled half-eaten bowl of food.
“Gooby!! It’s alrigh—”
He whimpered, head bowed down in guilt with his boyfriend looking at him with those familiar eyes, ones of pity. He hated it. He stormed out, sobbing quietly as he dashed towards his room. All he could think about..
Bathroom.
Weighing scale.
Boxcutter.
Toothbrush.
Clean.
Die.
Tears welled up in his eyes, realizing what he had just done. Ran away from his partner? From everyone? Another punishment. He pulled out the large bucket hidden under his bed, puking out everything he could. If he stopped? He lodged a toothbrush in his throat until he felt nauseous. He didn't feel concerned when he saw himself puking out a large brown lump, usually signs of internal bleeding. Even some fresh red blood from poking his pharynx too harshly. He didn't exactly lock the door either, he just wanted this sick feeling in his stomach to go away.
Why did everyday have to be like this?
Always Humiliation.
Always Suffocation.
Always Condescension.
Always Pathetic.
His final thoughts before his memories went hazy. He remembered grabbing his boxcutter. He remembered opening his phone to that stupid, ‘I am Sober’ app just to reset his stupid 2 digit clean streak. Those cuts turning white before dripping with red, the ones he tried to pry open to bleed more as he felt like he deserved it. He took a small picture, maybe post it on twitter or something. He hovered his chubby cut-pattered thigh over the bucket of purged, undigested meals. Before that familiar click of his phone's camera. He remembered Sprout opening the door, catching him in the act, and nothing else.
Why was he like this?
Messing everything up for others?
Could he live a normal day where his beloved partner wouldn't be harmed by his own problems?
Chapter 2: starve your ego, let it rot!
Summary:
sprout fucking crashes out on goob ig
based off me and my ex friend ig
hope ya enjoy ig
leave a kudos ig
Notes:
heyy!!!! me again! same as before, i'm open to improvement and criticism so please do leave a comment if ya think this chapter is bootycheeks thank youuuu!
love, shartblaster
Chapter Text
"Goob.. Ya promised ya'd stop. Why did you.."
It was too early in the morning, Goob waking up groggily. Here was Sprout, tone laced with genuine concern and affection as he bandaged his partner's cutted up thighs, albeit too tightly. "I’m sorry for what I said earlier,, next time, just tell me if I hurt ya, okay? Please." He paused, tying the bandages before continuing.
"I don't want you to hurt yourself. Just stop doing it.. For me?" The strawberry toon spoke quietly, squeezing the chub of his partner's thigh as discipline, despite it being painful for the other due to the multiple light cuts present. Sprout paused, then felt guilty and backed his hand away.
Goob stayed quiet, guilt dawning on his face for a moment. Before he tried to shift away due to the discomfort. Was it right? Was it wrong? His sister always told him to defend himself if he didn't feel comfortable with Sprout. Everyone deserved their own personal space! Sprout always tried to shove himself in everytime, and his excuse was that they were dating.
But it was his partner, right? Someone he was supposed to trust. So, was it okay? It felt wrong, was Goob the problem?
“E-Ahh.. Sprout.. Enough, fuh-please..”
He moaned in pain, shifting away and leaning his back against the wall. “I’m sorry.. It’s not Shiloh’s fault.”
“SHRIMPO. And it is his fault!! I don’t want him messing around with other people’s partners. For the love of God, I will actually have him SOLD OFF!!! EVEN DY-FUCKING-LE WANTS HIM GONE! IS HE THE ONE THAT FUCKING TRIGGERED YOU?? No one wants him here! Stupid..” Sprout paced the small room, his fists clenched, jaw tight with frustration.
.. But, I wouldn’t blame him.”
He didn’t even look at Goob, not fully, as he muttered under his breath. "God, you're so fucking weak. You let everything get to you. One little scratch at your ego, and you lose your damn mind!!" He kicked a chair aside, knocking it to the floor with a soft thud thanks to the carpet covered floor of Goob’s room.
Goob flinched at the noise, shrinking back into himself, his mind swirling with emotions. He couldn’t make sense of it— he couldn’t figure out if it was just Sprout’s way of showing he cared, or if this was something far worse! The words were like poison, constantly ticking away and hurting him, but his body still reacted like it was supposed to obey, to let Sprout do whatever he desired.
Goob’s throat felt like it was closing in on him, not being able to reply. He wanted to scream, to push back, but the fear that held him in place was stronger than any anger or rebellion. The way Sprout’s eyes bore into him, like he could see every flaw, every weakness, made Goob feel even smaller.
…
"I didn’t mean it like that," Goob tried defending himself again, his voice strained and tired. He felt.. sleepy. "K- I just don’t know how to deal with this. With you. With us..!”
Sprout’s expression shifted, his eyes narrowing, lips curling into a thin line. He stepped closer, his boots scraping against the floor as he leaned over Goob.
"What the fuck does that mean? You don’t know how to deal with me?" He spat the words, angry but somehow even more disappointed. "You’re pathetic. You don’t even know what you want. All you do is screw things up and then act like it’s not your fault.”
“Eeeehhh.. I’m s-.. orry,, I never wanted to screw up.. I… I just-..” His voice trailed up, gaining enough courage to look to his partner in the eyes. He hated how weak he seemed. He hated being belittled.
Sprout’s lips twisted into a cruel smirk, one that made Goob’s stomach churn as memories with that familiar face resurfaced.. He crouched down in front of him, forcing Goob to look at him. "You don’t want to screw up, huh?" He let out a low laugh, leaning in so close that Goob could feel his breath; scented a bitterly sweet strawberry with hints of graham.
"You’re already screwing up, Goob. You always screw up! You’ve changed! You’re getting weak.." His fingers brushed against the fluffy craft’s cheek, cold and calculating. "And you know what? I think I’m the only one who’s been patient enough to fix you.”
Goob flinched at the touch, but there was nowhere to go. "... B-I didn’t ask you to fix me," he whispered, his voice trembling.
Sprout's smile faltered for a brief moment, but it was only for a second. The anger returned quickly, his eyes turning dark.
“You don't have to ask, you idiot. I do what I want. You don’t get a choice in this."
He shoved Goob’s back against the cold, moist, condensated wall, the impact sharp and making the other’s head spin. "You want to keep acting like I’m the bad guy? Ha! Fine! But don’t pretend you’re innocent here. You’ve been walking all over me, expecting ME to just take care of you and NEVER ASK FOR ANYTHING IN RETURN.”
Goob stayed there, not knowing how to respond anymore. He felt his eyes start to glisten, before he ultimately broke down into Sprout’s palms. “Uff-I’m s-suh-ah-ryy..” He sobbed, louder and louder by the second. The other just grew more annoyed.
Sprout’s grip tightened, his fingers digging into Goob’s cheeks, forcing the tears to spill faster. “Sorry?” Sprout giggled sarcastically, twisting Goob’s face toward his with a cruel smirk. “Sorry isn’t enough. Sorry doesn’t fix what you’ve done. Sorry doesn’t fix you, and everyone else you have included in your problems.” His voice was an ice-cold rasp, though not comparable to Shrimpo’s, carrying the weight of everything unsaid between them. It was clear neither of them were satisfied with their current relationship.
Goob could barely breathe, his asthma making it harder. His mind screamed at him to do something, to say something!! To retaliate because he was strong! But every time he opened his mouth, the words caught in his throat. He wanted to tell Sprout that he never meant to hurt him, that he was sorry for all the things he couldn’t take back… But it all felt so useless, so plain, with Sprout standing over him like this..!
Sprout’s expression softened for the briefest of moments, almost like a flicker of regret, but it was gone in a heartbeat. “Pathetic,” he muttered, letting go of Goob’s tear-stained face and stepping back, his hands still shaking from the tension. “You’re pathetic, Goob.”
The room stayed cold, the small buzz of the air conditioner as well as Goob’s heavy breath being the only sound present. Sprout clasped his face between his palms, his head aching from how.. ANNOYING Goob was!! UGHHH!!!! Goob shivered from the biting cold of the aircon, seeing its temperature set at 17. Usually, he always set his aircon at low temperatures, his thick mane made him feel warm very easily. Now, it feels like his shield of fur was useless, stupid, a failure. He couldn’t even stand up to his partner? He was older! Taller! Smarter! Why was he accepting this? Why was he so submissive?
“.. Sorry.”
“…You said you were sorry,” Sprout muttered. “But what the hell are you even sorry for, huh?”
Goob didn’t answer right away. His paws gripped on the bandages of his thighs, eyes still locked on some invisible crack in the floor, or maybe the fallen chair. Anything but Sprout’s burning glare.
“I don’t know,” he said quietly. “For making you hate me, I guess…”
“Don’t apologize,” he snapped, more out of habit than anything. Goob was used to his mood swings, but was still startled by it. “You always do that. Every time. Like it fixes anything… Just, go fucking sleep.”
Sprout spoke, giving one last look at his partner, before leaving his room. Maybe he felt guilty for lashing out like that. Sprout was struggling too, you know?
... ?
The sun was barely up when Goob stirred. The room was washed in a dull grey light rather than the usual yellow undertone, the kind that makes everything look colder than it is. He hadn’t really slept,, just stayed in bed, slept, woke up, and repeated.
Sprout hadn’t come back. The door had stayed shut all night. Not even properly closed.
….
Goob sat up slowly, wincing at the stiffness in his legs. The bandages were starting to itch beneath his fur, but he didn’t dare touch them. He hated how annoying re-opened cuts were.
You know? How the blood would stick and dry on the bottom of your claws, hard to clean and having to scrape it off with your other nails. And then it pools into small droplets above your skin. Despite those droplets looking small, one wrong touch and the entire thing trickles downwards, forming a small branched river of ichor. Ugh.. The memories of those cuts, seeing white in the middle. Seeing the cuts bruise with some purple due to him trying to pry it even more open. It's the second reason why Goob never cleans his cuts with water, first being he hated his fur getting all wet.
The chair was still knocked over near the door where Sprout had shoved it aside last night, he left it like that. Somehow, it felt right. He doesn't care for being organized as he used to, he didn't have his sister to help him now.
He padded out into the hall, quiet like he always was in the mornings. He was scared of waking the others up if he accidentally ran too fast, his long claws pattering on the tiled halls. The kitchen smelled faintly of graham and bitter strawberries. Maybe Sprout is already up. That was a bad sign.. Usually.
Goob found him in the kitchen, hunched over the counter with a Hamilton mug gripped on his paw, the other gripping on the edge of said counter.
“.. Morning.”
“Hey.”
They greeted each other, before Goob went to grab some water. Drinking water helped fill his stomach, making him feel less hungry. It barely had calories too, but he knew Sprout wouldn’t let his meal-skipping slide that easily.
DING!!! ///
“You haven't eaten,” Sprout paused, turning to look at Goob after he took out the hotpockets from the microwave. “again.” He continued, pushing a plate forward to his partner. He wouldn’t admit to Goob that he was a bit concerned.
Goob stared up with tired eyes, ears drooping down slightly. “Not hungry.” He stared down at his cup of water, the liquid swooshing as he shifted slightly. Ironic how water can be disturbed even with a slight movement that wouldn’t affect anyone else, huh?
“That isn’t a reason.”
“I said I’m fine.”
“If you were, then why did I have to go to your room so late to help you?..” Sprout turned to him now, his brow creased. “And then you start shaking by noon, or you pass out during filming or practice. You think I don’t notice?”
Goob flinched, just enough to make the water on his cup recoil to his fur. He hated this. When Sprout tried to be the caretaker, the enforcer, the concerned one for his ‘silly stupid boyfriend’. It always felt like a test. He wouldn’t know if it was real or fake.
Then the back door slammed open.
“What is this?” a sharp voice cut through the tension.
Shrimpo stood in the doorway like he owned the place, all energetic and rude as usual. He wore a black hoodie, shorts, and mismatched socks.
“Don’t you have anything better to do,” he raised a brow, “than hounding Goob before he’s even finished a glass of water?”
Sprout narrowed his eyes. “He needs to eat.”
“And maybe you need to chill,” Shrimpo shot back, slinking across the kitchen to open the fridge. “Unless you’re planning to blend his breakfast and force-feed him with a straw..”
“I wouldn’t have to ‘hound’ him if he’d just-”
“Sprout.” Goob’s voice was soft, but it stopped them both. He still wasn’t looking up. “I’m not... trying to worry anyone. I’m just tired. Please?”
Shrimpo glanced over, then pulled out a yogurt and tossed it across the table toward Goob, who caught it on reflex.
“Eat it if you want. Don’t if you don’t.” He popped the top off a can of soda with a dramatic psshhhk!! “Just don’t let little Mr. Captain Crunch over here start making meal plans for you like some kind of sad sitcom mom.”
Sprout gritted his teeth, but said nothing. He took another sip of coffee, slower this time.
Goob peeled the foil lid off the yogurt. He didn’t say thank you, but Shrimpo didn’t seem to expect one. He started licking it, comparable to how a dog would drink water from a bowl.
The kitchen settled into an uneasy quiet, the kind that felt like everyone had chosen not to say what they were really thinking. For now, maybe that was enough.
Chapter 3: the red is for regret
Summary:
sprout tries to apologize to goob by baking him red velvet cookies. cosmo is there to judge sprout's baking.
Notes:
shartblaster present...
you know the drill... leave a comment if you think this is bootycheeks, also do point out if i left any mistakes tyy!!!!!
Chapter Text
The kitchen smelled like red velvet and shame this afternoon.
Sprout hunched over the mixing bowl, his fingers coated in red-streaked batter despite using a whisk. His thoughts are louder than the gentle hum of the oven. Every stir, every sift, every crack of an egg carried the weight of last night. The sharp words that were like a stab with a knife, the slammed door, the look on Goob’s face just before he left him alone in there.
"I'm an idiot,," Sprout muttered, mostly to himself, partly to the potted plant in the windowsill with leaves shaped similar to his own green leaves. But it was Cosmo, sprawled across the counter with a peeled banana who had answered back.
"You're our idiot," Cosmo said. "But yeah. That was bad. Even for you.”
Sprout didn’t argue. He just kept working. A dash more vanilla. A touch too much food coloring. His hands moved with practiced care, but his mind was wreckage. He could still hear it. His own voice, too sharp, too loud. The way Goob had gone quiet, like someone folding into themselves.
“I shouldn’t have said any of it,” Sprout said, voice cracking like an overbaked cookie. “I don’t even believe half of it. I just… I was tired. He was tired. We were both-”
“Human?” Cosmo offered gently, sliding off the counter and walking over to throw the banana peel.
“No. Dude. We aren’t even humans. But if we were, then Goob is definitely the most human-human. I’m just.. whatever this is.” Sprout gestured vaguely at his flour-dusted apron, his shaky hands, his whole spiraling self.. Ugh.
He hated how he always felt like something else was controlling him. He felt like he was only partly there, watching everything spill out of his control.
Cosmo leaned against the sink, watching him. “So your plan is what? Bake a cookie so good he forgets what you said?”
“I don’t want him to forget,,”
Sprout said, and this time he looked up. Meeting Cosmo in the eyes.
“I just want him to know I’m sorry. Like, actually sorry. Not the ‘sorry-you’re-upset’ kind. The ‘sorry-I-was-terrified-you’d-leave-and-I-panicked-like-a-moron’ kind.”
There was a long silence, filled only by the soft ticking of the kitchen timer.
Cosmo finally smiled, warm and sad. “Then make it a damn good cookie.”
Sprout pressed a heart-shaped cutter into the dough, slow and careful.
“Shush. Concentrating.”
As Sprout finally put the cookie-lined tray in the oven, he set the timer and leaned against the table with a content sigh.
“You know,” Cosmo spoke up, his head tilted slightly. Either a result of the fact that his cake-roll head was too heavy for his shorter body, or he just felt cute. “There's something deeply poetic about you trying to fix emotional damage with baked goods. How do you think that would work out, hm?”
“It’s the only language I speak fluently,”
Sprout mumbled, checking the oven temperature for the fourth time.
“I’m not even that good in fucking english. And he likes red velvet anyways.”
Cosmo raised an eyebrow. “He loves red velvet. And you know it. Plus, don’t be so hard on your English. It’s great.”
Sprout didn’t answer. He stood there, back to the counter, eyes flicking from the cookie tray to the kitchen door like Goob might walk in any second and catch him in the act of trying to be a better person..
“I said some very bad things,”
Sprout admitted, the words not even trying to defend himself. He knew he was wrong.
“Stuff I didn’t even know I could say. And he just… stood there. Took it. Like he thought he deserved it.”
Cosmo’s face softened. “He doesn’t..”
“I know,” Sprout said quickly. “That’s the worst part.”
.. BEEP!! BEEP!! BEEP!! ///
The timer beeped, shrill and sudden, slicing through the silence. Sprout moved like he’d been trained for this moment his whole life. Heh! Oven mitts on, door open, tray out. The cookies were puffed and fragrant, edges crisp, centers soft. Just how he liked it..
“They’re good! Hey!” Cosmo said, peering over his shoulder. “Maybe your best batch yet. And only because Goob is going to eat it?”
Sprout didn’t smile. He just stared at them, all twelve stupid little hearts laid out in rows like confessions cooling on parchment paper.
“I just hope he still wants to eat them. Ugh.. this single one is cracked.. This must be Goob. All eleven others are for my 11 pounds of ass.”
There was a knock at the door.
Both of them froze.
It was soft. Hesitant. The kind of knock that carried more questions than answers.
Sprout didn’t know if he was going to get caught saying something THAT vulgar..
Sprout turned to Cosmo, wide-eyed. “What if it’s him? Goob?? Or them?”
Cosmo tilted his head, adjusted it, before heading toward the entrance. “Eh. Only one way to find out.”
Sprout wiped his hands on his apron, then again on his jeans when that didn’t feel like enough. He took a shaky breath, crossed the kitchen, and opened the door.
There stood Goob.
His eyes were a bit more energetic than the last time Sprout had seen him. His tail was wagging and he stayed only at the doorframes. Sprout used to constantly tell him to only stay there due to his fur possibly contaminating the food.
Neither of them spoke.
Sprout’s voice caught in his throat. All his carefully prepared lines? Gone. As if he didn’t spend hours practicing with Cosmo.
Goob looked at him, and for a terrifying second, Sprout couldn’t tell what was in his eyes. Not anger. Not forgiveness either.
Just.. waiting. Patiently.
So Sprout stepped aside, holding the door open.
“Ah- Guhh.. I made you a cookie..!”
Goob stepped inside, his movements slow, unsure, like he wasn’t entirely convinced he should be there.
His eyes flicked around the kitchen, noticing the flour-dusted counter, the tray of heart-shaped cookies cooling under the window, Cosmo silently excusing himself through the side door with a nod and a small, understanding smile. Though he didn’t leave before saying a small ‘Ayieee’ of teasing.
Then they were alone.
Sprout just swallowed hard. He didn’t know if Goob would be happy about his cooking..
“They're still warm,” he said, gesturing to the cookies like they were the most important thing in the world, but he knew it was Goob anyways. “I didn’t know what else to do. So I-”
“Baked?” Goob finished, his voice flat but not rude. “Yeah. I figured.”
Sprout nodded. He picked up the nearest cookie, cradling it in both hands like it might fall apart otherwise.
“They’re red velvet. I remembered that one time you said they remind you of your birthday. When you were young. Your toon handler made them with cream cheese filling. It was your birthday cake, too!”
“Sprout.”
He froze.
Goob looked at him, really looked at him this time. There was a twitch in his eyes, like he was holding something in with both hands and it was starting to leak out through the cracks.
“You hurt me.”
Sprout’s breath caught. “I know,” he said, barely audible. “I know, Goob. And I’m sorry. I was scared, and I said things I didn’t mean-no, that’s not true. I meant them ONLY IN THAT MOMENT, but I didn’t mean them about you. I was angry, and I didn’t stop to think about how much damage I was doing.”
Goob didn’t answer right away. He stepped forward and picked up a cookie from the tray. Held it. Didn’t bite. Letting the warmth of it seep into his paws.
“It wasn’t just what you said,” he murmured. “It was that you didn’t stop. You saw it hurting, and you kept going.”
Sprout closed his eyes like he’d been slapped. “I know.”
Goob studied the cookie in his hand, turning it over like he was trying to decide if it was safe to trust again.
“I needed you to be better than that.”
“I want to be,” Sprout said quickly. “I will be. I can be. I’m not asking you to forget it happened. I..” He took a breath. “I don’t want it to be the end of us.”
Silence settled between them again, but it felt different now. Not a wall, more like a hallway. Still uncertain, but going somewhere.
Goob finally took a bite.
Chewed.
Swallowed.
“It’s good..” he said.
Sprout looked at him, something almost like hope flickering behind his eyes. “Yeah?”
Goob nodded slowly. “Yeah-”
Another pause.
“I’m still mad at you,” Goob added.
Sprout nodded, eyes wet. “That’s okay.”
“I’m still hurt.”
“I know.”
“But I’m here.”
Sprout let out a shaky breath. “Thank you.”
Goob didn’t smile, but something softened in his face. He took another bite of the cookie and leaned against the counter, just close enough that Sprout could feel the warmth of him again.
It wasn’t a fix.
It wasn’t forgiveness.
But it was a beginning.
“.. You missed the white chocolate chips.”
“Hey..! I forgot-”
Yummy ciel (Guest) on Chapter 1 Mon 01 Sep 2025 03:38AM UTC
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Versui on Chapter 1 Wed 03 Sep 2025 03:18AM UTC
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shartblaster69 on Chapter 1 Wed 03 Sep 2025 03:19AM UTC
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