LOOEY USER

Looey and Sprout had been together for a while now—madly in love, the kind of love that made their world brighter just by being in it together.

As Valentine’s Day crept closer, excitement filled the air… well, for most. For Sprout, it was anything but joyful. He was a mess of nerves, consumed by the fear that his gift wouldn’t be good enough. Deep down, he knew Looey would adore anything he gave—Looey was that kind of toon—but Sprout couldn’t shake the voice that insisted it had to be perfect.

And so, he began to pull away.

When Looey tried to strike up a conversation, Sprout would barely respond. When Looey went in for a hug, he’d gently recoil. Even a kiss—Sprout would dodge it with a nervous smile. It wasn’t that he didn’t want Looey’s affection. He just couldn’t risk slipping up, couldn’t let the surprise spill too early. But with every moment of silence, every cold shoulder, he chipped away at something precious. Because for someone like Looey—a toon who feared being forgotten or left out—it didn’t feel like suspense. It felt like abandonment.

Was the surprise really worth all the distance?

Three days until Valentine’s Day.

Sprout was in the kitchen with his best friend, Cosmo, the two of them elbow-deep in cookie dough and decorations. Cosmo was carefully crafting tiny sweets to look like Looey and Sprout—little edible decorations for the cupcakes—while Sprout focused on lining heart-shaped cookies with pink icing, hands trembling as he tried not to mess up.

Then, the worst possible thing happened.

Looey walked in.

He waved cheerfully, unaware of the panic about to set in. Sprout froze like a deer in headlights, his whole body tensing. He scrambled to hide the evidence—plates, piping bags, the cookies still wet with icing—anything to preserve the surprise. Cosmo kept decorating, unfazed, until Sprout quickly motioned for him to stop.