Archive of Our Own ^beta

The shelter was cramped, the walls were bearing down from all sides, leaving little to no room to even sit up straight. Rust coated the now sealed off entrance and exit of the metal chamber, the smell of copper stung their nose. They could do nothing but wait for the flood outside to end, stuck inside with nothing but their own mind to keep them busy. Enot fiddled with a rock that they held in their paws, passing it from either paw as a small way to express their built up energy. Enot was never the most patient slugcat, but they had learned that patience was an important skill to master if they didn’t want to go insane in these steel prisons. The downpour outside raged, mighty and vast. Enot prayed the shelter would hold against the water, they never had much luck when it came to structural integrity with the supposedly airtight chambers. Maybe they would get a lucky break this time?

A small drop of water splashing against their cold nose dashed that hope instantaneously. The hope now replaced with a sickening dread, a rock settled in their stomach. The slugcat looked up, finally noticing a hidden crack in the ceiling. Water began to congeal and collect through the tiny perforation on the roof, falling as a drop once it accumulated too much. Enot’s ears pinned to their head, the rock growing larger. The drops began to turn into a steady faucet, causing the scug’s eyes to widen in fear. Shelters usually held much, much longer than this, Enot hadn’t even had more than 10 minutes of peace yet.

The faucet quickly turned into a spill, which turned into gush, which turned into a flood. The crack began to coat the tiny room in pressurized water, Enot pinned themselves against the wall, shivering in fear for the imminent fate that approached them. They closed their eyes as the water finally rose to reach their chest. They whimpered as the water then reached their neck. Enot was forced to angle their muzzle upward, in an attempt to savor the quickly vanishing pocket of air at the top. The flood finally turned into an outright monsoon, Enot barely getting the chance to gasp as the room was finally engulfed.

Enot’s heart raced, thumping in their ears as they began to punch and kick at the crack, hoping to break it open and release them from the oceanic tomb. A blaring began to accompany their panicked flailing, loud and fast. A startling soundtrack to their startling predicament. Their slams began to lose their impact as Enot’s supply of oxygen began to dwindle, all while the blaring alarm served as their death toll. It grew louder and louder, suddenly becoming all Enot could hear through the rush of water. It reached a deafening crescendo, Enot tried to scream as their lungs finally filled with water.

Their eyes shot open, the same fast paced beeping rang out in their empty bedroom. With a groan, and a sluggish paw-wave, Enot slapped the button to snooze their irritating alarm clock. They used their other paw to wipe down their face, skin stretching comically as the paw passed. They checked the time on the analog screen: “10:30 a.m.” Lovely. Beams of sunlight managed to choke their way past the small gaps in Enot’s blackout blinds, a soft glow illuminated a chunk of the room. With a groan, the slugcat arose from the alluring comfort of their pillows, rising like a mummy from their tomb. They smacked their tongue against the roof of their mouth, morning breath striking their taste buds. They cringed at that, throwing the covers off of themselves, shivering at the sudden rush of cold striking from every angle. Their fur did not do much against cooler temperatures, more useful as an insulator against the heat instead of anything meant to trap warmth. The current month signaled the cooling of the weather, something that made Enot wish they could grow a coat as luxurious and fluffy as that green hippy they’ve seen sometimes.

Their paws touched the cool wooden floors, eliciting another shiver to travel up their spine. Slowly, less than gracefully, Enot stumbled their way into the kitchen. They grabbed the T.V. remote from their cluttered coffee table, flicking through the channels until they landed on some children’s cartoons. Contentment rose as the silence of Enot’s small apartment was cut by the tune of the intro. The slugcat didn’t really care about what others had to say about their choice in television, no matter the time or day, the background noise of cartoons brought an unmatched sense of comfort to the scug.

They set down the remote next to a pair of socks they forgot to toss into the hamper. They weren’t the most tidy slugcat in the world, relegated to leaving trash, dishes and the like wherever they felt like it. It didn’t matter much anyway, it wasn’t as if they were living with anyone at the moment. Enot felt a mix of jealousy, sadness, scorn, and worry cocktail in their chest. They had broken up with their latest partner just a week ago, the thought still opening up a raw wound. Enot could never say that it was going well, just that it was functional. They very obviously cared for them, but could never reciprocate the obvious affection their partner gave them. They never felt the butterflies they would always hear others say they get when they kissed their partners. Enot’s “I love you’s'' still had merit, but they felt different to Enot, they just could never put a finger on it.

Their contemplation ended as they entered their bathroom, flicking on the violently yellow overhead light. They brushed their odd teeth, not exactly sharp but not too dull. It wasn’t an omnivore’s teeth, or a carnivore’s, or an herbivore’s, it was something else. Enot didn’t care too much about the shape; as long as it didn’t stop them from eating, it didn’t matter. Their eyes made contact with the reflection’s, the same unsettling pair they would always see in the mirror. They were not the eyes of a normal slugcat, they were smaller, eyelashes way too long and striking, sclera white instead of black. Their pupils were a light blue instead of the standard colors other slugcats came in, giving them an unintentionally piercing glare. They were not the eyes of a slugcat.

Enot spit out the frothy toothpaste, wiping their mouth with the back of their arm. They exited their bathroom, flicking the light off. Today was their first weekend off of work for that week, Enot breathed a sigh of relief at that reminder; a day of decompression was always welcome. They grabbed their half charged laptop from their side table, returning to their small living room. The plush sofa nearly wrapped around the slugcat as they settled into its comforting embrace. They propped their feet on the – still cluttered – coffee table, expertly dodging the half full glasses of water that they’d “definitely” return to the sink soon. The laptop whirred to life as they lifted the screen, Enot took a moment to stare at their reflection before the screen blinked on. They navigated to the internet browser.

As per every morning, Enot began to sift through their unread emails. And, as per every morning, it was filled with nothing of real note. Spam, promotions for services Enot had forgot to cancel, phishing links, nothing out of place. Enot frowned, they were hoping that they would’ve gotten an email back by now from the many jobs they applied to online. It appeared that luck did not grace them that day. After about half an hour – assumedly – Enot managed to finally finish the slog of electronic garbage cleaning. Something on the dash caught their attention before they closed the window, however: they had one new item in their favorites folder. Enot didn’t remember favoriting anything new, they would remember if they ever added anything, as their favorites folder was for the most important of important emails.

They navigated to the folder, eyes flicking to the new addition’s title. “YOU’RE INVITED,” read the text, simple and to the point. An inkling of a memory nagged at the back of their mind as they clicked to expand the email. They were met with a digital poster, batflys with cartoonish scary faces and jack o’ lanterns speckled the sides.

“You have been invited to attend Gourmand’s Costume Party on October 31st!
Feel free to bring snacks and party games of your choosing! Please come wearing a costume (nothing too graphic or scary, please!) Party starts at 7:30 p.m!” Below the listed address was a cute tiny drawing of a smiling Gourmand holding a tray of halloween cupcakes. Enot took a second to process this, before a jolt of horror struck through them like lightning. They opened the laptop’s calendar, gasping in horror as their fear was realized: it was October 31st… Enot smacked their head in frustration, how had they forgotten such an important event? Another jolt of terror struck them; they had no costume, they had forgotten to plan for one!

Like hell on wheels, Enot slammed the laptop shut, tossing it on the cushion beside them, before jumping up on their feet. In the process they accidentally knocked over a glass half filled with water (that they’d absolutely return to the sink soon,) on the hardwood floor. Enot swore, throwing a dish towel on the puddle, before running into their room. They slipped on a pair of jeans and a hoodie, before glancing at their wall clock. The time read “11:43 a.m.” They still had time, they had only around seven hours to both think of and make a costume. The slugcat gritted their teeth as they stuffed their essentials into their pockets: phone, wallet, and keys.

Finally, they slipped on a pair of roughed up sneakers, hopping on each foot as they shoved their opposite foot into the shoes. Enot decided to keep the T.V. on, wanting to leave for the nearby crafts shop as soon as possible. They slipped out the door, shutting and locking it behind them. They hurried down the stairs, nearly tripping over their own feet at the speed of their descent. The crisp air of the outside greeted them as they finally exited their apartment building. The sun shone through the golden brown canopy of the tall trees that speckled the sides of the sidewalk. A couple cars went by, kicking up fallen leaves and swirling them in the air. Enot would’ve stayed in place if only to watch the beautiful fall weather. Unfortunately they had a job to do, a time sensitive one, so with some reluctance, the slugcat began their walk toward the crafts shop.

The chill of the air wasn’t too biting, Enot’s hoodie doing more than enough to fight off chills. Their fat tail swayed behind them, close enough to the sidewalk to rustle some more fallen leaves that dotted the concrete. The crafts shop wasn’t too far, but it also wasn’t exactly close by. It was in that irritating middle ground where it would be a decent walk, but still too short to take the car or bus. Enot did not have the latter option at their disposal, so they were mostly relegated to non consensual exercise. Whenever they did need a car, they’d mostly phone Night to swing by. Night was always reliable like that, something Enot learned during their friendship of ten years. They wondered if he was going to the party, too. It was pretty plausible, considering Night was friends with nearly every slugcat they were friends with too. Well, “friendship” would be a tentative term for Enot’s relationships with other slugs (mostly Hunter.) Nonetheless, with how much of a social butterfly Night was – somehow trumping Enot in that regard – they’d be surprised if Night didn’t get an invite.

The walk seemed to drag on, Enot began to actually huff and puff from the small amount of exertion. Maybe they should’ve started getting more exercise, a walk to the fridge and back wasn’t exactly on par to intense calisthenics. If it weren’t for genetics, Enot would probably be as big as Gourmand. Actually, scratch that, Gourmand’s… girth was much more than simple fat, there was a bulk to him. Enot was convinced that, if he wanted, Gourmand could simply clap on either side of their head and squish it with little to no effort. Of course, they had a better chance of getting struck with lightning fifteen times than Gourmand ever even bending a hair out of place. If anything, Enot would die trying to force another of Gourmand’s cupcakes down their gullet than actually dying by his paws.

Hope sparked in Enot’s chest as they finally caught the roof of the craft shop behind the hill they trudged up. As more and more of the building was revealed, the spark of hope began to flicker out, what little of a smile they had fell. The parking lot was packed, not a single space was empty, rows and rows of vehicles lined every possible parking spot. The store’s front door was bustling, slugcats and scavengers alike weaving in and out of the entrance interchangeably. It looked like others had the same costume dilemma Enot had. As the dark slugcat approached the building, a pang of doubt hit them. It would be much easier just to turn tail and walk back, but another thought contrasted the worry. Enot didn’t know who would be attending, but maybe, just maybe, someone there could be a potential date. Someone there might be able to plug the hole the slugcat felt in their heart. If so, they may be swayed by Enot’s craft skills; people loved partners who were dependable. With a steeled scowl, Enot weaved themselves into the hustle and bustle of the crowd, entering the maw of the beast.

As expected, the store was filled to the brim with people, everywhere Enot looked had churning bodies bumping into each other, desperate to get their last minute items for the imminent holiday. Like an inexperienced diver, Enot was bumped and swept into the crowd, barely able to tell where they were going. They weren’t the tallest slugcat, most others practically dwarfed them, and that fact came to the forefront of their mind as they struggled to look over the sea of people. They finally found purchase, eyes landing on a sign hung from the roof labeled “CLOTH.” With fervor, Enot threaded their wave through the walls of the crowd, mumbling a “sorry” and “oops” as they accidentally stepped on random feet. Finally, they managed to crawl onto the proverbial beach of the aisle.

The aisle was still packed, but it wasn’t as bad as the main area was. Enot had a small moment of respite, and time to actually think of their plan. Now that they were here, they began to frown. They hadn’t really spawned an idea of what to make for a costume, hoping that they’d have a “Eureka!” moment during their walk. They pondered a few ideas as they scanned the wall of different cloths. Maybe they could be a slasher villain, no, too cliched. Maybe a ghost, no, also too cliched. A witch? No, no. They needed something fresh but not too complicated, something they could whip up quickly, they were on a time limit, dammit!

The rolls of cloth that hadn’t been picked out were all pretty earthy colors, rich browns and dark greens. Maybe they could be a scarecrow, oh, but a cowboy would be just as interesting. They squinted their eyes as they pondered harder, before snapping their fingers. Why not go as both; a scarecrow cowboy! Excitement rushed over Enot as they began to pick out their items. A nice burlap cloth, an earthy brown shawl, some faux wheat straw, and a leather belt was piled into Enot’s arms. They began to regret not getting a basket or bag of some kind for their haul. Enot grabbed a tiny, strapped cowboy hat as they trotted down the aisle, weaving through slugcats and scavengers with similar armfulls of items.

Enot deliberated for a second as they locked eyes with a tray of small, plastic “sheriff” pins, before sighing and adding one to their mountain of materials. Finally, the black slugcat felt satisfied with their selections, turning to the checkout area. They immediately remembered their predicament as they watched the horde of customers still swerve in and out of the store. Enot sighed as they slowly dived back into the current of bodies. This time, they managed to navigate the crowd with much more success than before, finding themselves in the checkout area. The slugcat suppressed a groan at the sight of the titanic line that stretched from the checkout counters. They took their place behind a perturbed scavenger, who tapped their foot on the ground in clear impatience. Enot couldn’t blame them, the line seemed to inch forward at an agonizing snail’s pace. At the same time, Enot couldn’t blame the workers either, they appeared to be working as fast as possible. One slugcat behind a register looked like the light had died in their soul, staring forward into nothing as they scanned item by item, understandable, really. In their nervous jitters, Enot glanced at one of the store’s wall mounted clocks, eyes widening. The time read “2:30 p.m.” How long had they been in this damned store? Enot leaned past the scav in front of them, taking another look down the long line.

The line had barely budged, the customer at the register had apparently decided to buy half the store’s damn stock, their cart was almost full, with more items waiting to be scanned. Enot scowled, eyes wandering the other lines that stretched similar to theirs. The other patrons seemed to look just as impatient as Enot felt, all except for two. A slugcat couple was sandwiched in the middle of the line left of the black scug. They contrasted the general mood of the store, while others were seconds away from socking the person right next to them, they were content with simply talking to each other whilst they waited. Enot watched as they suddenly began to chuckle quietly to each other, before sharing a quick smooch, causing one of them to glance around, flustered.

Enot felt a burning jealousy bloom hot in their chest. It looked just so easy for them, as if there were no second thoughts for them. There was no hesitation when they leaned in, no doubt in their eyes when they pulled back. No conflict of emotions after the fact, just a simple kiss, pure affection in a quick gesture. Enot wondered how it felt to just… love so effortlessly. They turned away from the couple before their thoughts could sour even more. Enot just had a bad streak with their past partners, they were just not clicking with them. They just were a bad fit, that was it. Enot ignored how they were almost always kind and understanding, sharing their interests and barely if not ever clashing with them. This halloween party might have the person that would show that Enot just didn’t try hard enough. They just hadn’t found “The One,'' yet, they’d find them tonight, they’d have to.

Enot glanced at the clock for the umpteenth time, eyes practically bulging as they read “3:30 p.m.” on its analogue screen. They now only had a mere four hours to complete their costume, time rapidly waning as they rotted in the infinitesimally long line. At that rate, they would only be able to make a poncho before they’d have to leave. What self-respecting cowboy only wears a poncho? Enot narrowed their eyes, the scaffolds of a plan beginning to form in their mind’s eye. They took count of the price of their haul, they were never the best at math, but the simple edition was thankfully in their skills. Enot finally came to about $40 of supplies, not a bad price compared to their previous cosplays. Enot used their free paw to fish their wallet from their jean pocket, opening the gap with a thumb. They counted the bills, two $10s and six $5s dollar bills respectfully. Enot shifted the items in their arms, freeing their other paw, which they used to produce the correct amount of bills. They used a rubber band that was also in the wallet to tie the money together, forming a tight wad of cash.

Enot prayed that the clerks would forgive them. The black slugcat took a few breaths, heart rate beginning to pick up, thumping louder and louder in their chest. Suddenly, they bolted from their position in line, startling the scav in front of them. They moved the pile of materials under their arm like a sports ball, sprinting past the cashier’s desk. They whizzed by, depositing their wad of bills on the table, nearly clipping a slugcat mother and her child. Enot began sprinting harder, slipping through the front door.

A “HEY!” rang from behind them, presumably from one of the clerks. Enot cringed and ignored it, continuing their track running across the parking lot. The materials under their arm jostled violently, thankfully staying put despite that. The scug kept running, up and down the hill, then alongside the leaf littered sidewalk. They half expected a police cruiser to peel from around one of the street corners, intent on catching the dangerous criminal they now were. Thankfully, they managed to make it to their apartment building a free slugcat, bolting up the stairs and past a disgruntled janitor, they finally skidded back through their front door.

Enot panted heavily as they trudged past the living room, depositing the costume items haphazardly on the kitchen counter. Their throat burned an acidic pain, their legs throbbed in pain from the exertion, but they had made it home. Their eyes swiveled to the clock that lay on the T.V, “3:52 p.m.” Not a bad time, they now had about three and a half hours to assemble their masterpiece. Enot peaked in the hall closet, gathering sewing supplies, scissors, and a bottle of half empty craft glue. They glanced for a suitable surface in their small apartment, their coffee table was too cluttered (with half empty glasses of water that they’d absolutely put in the sink, maybe,) their bed was too soft, and their computer desk was way too cramped. The black slugcat shrugged, they decided the kitchen counter was suitable, not preferable, but suitable.

Thus, they began their construction. Cut by cut and piece by piece, the shape of their work began to slowly come to light. The sun outside slowly began to take its descent behind the horizon, but Enot still worked. Glue was placed and fabrics were twisted. Enot felt like the Ancient “Michelangelo Five Stars of the Guild of Picks and Stone.” The fabric scissors were their stone chisel, the cloth their smooth marble, the thread their hammer, the glue their… platform? The analogy fell apart at that point, nonetheless, Enot felt like a tried and true artist. Maybe in another time they would’ve been a world renowned tailor.

Enot held their work up in the kitchen’s overhead light, the sun having finally dipped behind the world, the sky outside now a swirl of pinks and purples. The costume consisted of a few parts, the headpiece was a burlap sack, sewn to fit snugly around their head, two holes in the front sat for Enot’s eyes. Their poncho was all together basic, however, it was littered with randomly speckled patches of the same burlap material for the headpiece, giving off the sense of wear and tear. The ends of the poncho were artificially frayed, simple scratches from Enot’s dull claws made the process much easier. Straw was glued on the inside collar of the poncho, tying together the scarecrow look.

Enot slipped on their costume, deciding last minute to also put on some gardener’s gloves to boot. Their normal jeans looked scuffed up enough to look like they belonged on a scarecrow, and they elected to wear one of their “lesbian flannels” as Arti put it. They inspected themselves in the bathroom mirror, straining their head from different angles to get a decent look in the miniscule frame. A buzzing sensation suddenly vibrated against the black slugcats thigh. They lifted their burlap “helmet,” producing their phone from their pocket. The cracked screen read “NIGHTY~,” Enot accepted the call.

“Yes, bb?” Enot asked.

“Heeey, I heard you were going to Gour’s party?” Droned the voice from the phone. Enot smiled at Night’s tone, he always sounded like he was seconds from falling asleep, no matter the time of day.

“Mmhmm~ I wuz goin’a call you to ask if u could pick me up,” Enot replied.

“Well… I already used my predictive analysis skills,” Night said with a mystical lilt to his voice, “And my calculations have told me you needed a ride.”

“How do u do it~ Are u going, too..?”

“Yup, let’s compare costumes when I get there,”

“Oh! How forward~ I’ll be looking forward to it,” Enot trilled, before Night hung up. Enot glanced at the phone and shrugged. The slugcat returned to their self inspection, twisting their body and craning their neck to still get a decent view. Satisfied, Enot glanced at their phone’s clock; 7:01 p.m. Night lived close enough to both Enot and Gourmand for them to get there on time. Enot’s stomach fluttered in excitement, they haven’t been to too many parties, this was one of a few. Enot glanced back at the mirror, leaning in to inspect their face. If their potential soulmate was at the party, then they’d have to make a good first impression. They tilted their head to inspect what their face would look like from different angles. Should they wear make-up? No, make-up would be useless with their burlap mask. Maybe perfume? No, that might be too tryhard. Enot shook their head to themselves, tilting back from the mirror to stand back up to full height.

They sighed to themselves, before slapping their cheeks in an effort to sike themselves up. Tonight would go great (probably,) nothing would go wrong (they hoped.) Enot slowly flicked off each light in their room, finally ending up in their living room. They sat on the couch, watching cartoons while they waited for Night and his chariot to take Enot to the ball. The cartoons that still showed were a slight comfort, as they always were. The black slugcat was sucked into the – admittedly not very complex – story of the current show, before their attention was snapped by a single buzz from the phone in their paw. The screen lit to reveal a text from Night.

“The wizard hath arrived…” From that text alone, Enot immediately had an idea of what Night chose for his costume, he was always kind of shit at riddles. They lifted themselves from the plush couch, back popping quietly from the sudden re-articulation. They flicked off the T.V. while they wondered if they would turn it on again alone, or with a new addition in their life. Enot double checked they had their essentials, patting their jean pockets a little too hard. The slugcat winced as they felt their keys dig into their leg, but was ultimately satisfied that they had all they needed. Slipping through the door, the black scug locked the deadbolt, before descending the rickety metal stairs of their apartment building.

Enot glanced around the front parking lot, immediately spotting the yellow-ish beams of Night’s headlights. The light provided enough of a glare to not immediately discern who the driver was. However, Enot recognized the spokes of the wheel, the color of the car, even the nasty scratch that extended along the length of the driver side door. As to be expected, when they peaked through the window, a familiar slugcat sat at the wheel. He had fur just as dark as Enot’s, however, his fur had a purple sheen to it when it caught the light. His eyes were half lidded, a pair of stark white eyes contrasted his dark fur. If Enot stared hard enough, they would be able to see the dark circles that surrounded them. If it were any other slugcat, Enot would’ve assumed sleep was not a concept to them. However, Night has always looked like that, whether he got 6 hours of sleep or 12, he always looked like he was gonna pass out. What caught Enot’s attention, though, was the large dark blue robe and hat that he wore. Stars and crescent moons dotted the navy fabric, twinkling in the light from Night’s lit up dashboard. Enot opened the door, sliding into the passenger seat.

“Man, you were starting to make me worry my costume had something wrong with it,” Night says as Enot clicked their seatbelt into place.

“Oops, wus I starin’ too hard?” Enot asked, adjusting the belt across their chest to stop rubbing against their neck, “U’re costume’s really cool, the wizard vibe fits u.”

Night dusted himself off as a visual gag, “I thought so too. If only I could cast spells for real…”

“Fireworx would be a gud sub.”

“Yeah, but I wouldn’t want to evict myself from any of Gourm’s future parties. His food is enough of a reason to kill for.” Enot hummed in agreement at that, Gourmand’s food rivaled – if not straight up challenged – Michelin star restaurants in the food debate. Night turned up the radio, a strange tone filled the car’s speakers. At first, Enot figured it was the start to a song, until it continued to ring without a sign of stopping. The slugcat furrowed their brows.

“Woops, wrong one,” Night said, clicking a button. The radio switched to something more conventional tune, a nice 80s song that Enot couldn’t remember the title to for the life of them.

“What wuz that?” Enot inquired.

“I like to zone out when driving, I got a CD that has a bunch of ‘calming frequencies’. At first I thought all that stuff was fake, but I’m pretty sure it really helps me calm down,” Night answers.

“Did Saint show u that stuff?”

“Shockingly, no. I found it while researching about chakras.” Enot was not afraid to roll their eyes half heartedly at that.

“U don’t believe that magic stuff, do u?”

“...Maybe a little.”

“A lil’? Wut?”

“There’s some merit to all that pseudoscience schtick, some of the stuff is legitimately helpful,” Night explained, ignoring Enot’s raised eyebrow, “They like meditating, a lot. Apparently it’s got a lot of cool benefits. It’s like stretching, just for the mind. I’d say you should try it out.”

“Y?”

“I’ve seen you get stressed out bad about a lot of stuff. I mean you remember last Tuesday? I think taking even 30 minutes to meditate would help a lot for you.”

“It sounds so boring, tho.”

“At first, yeah, but it turns relaxing very quickly. It’s like a break for the mind.”

“Wuzn’t it ‘stretching for the mind’?”

“It’s stretching AND a break for the mind. I’m not forcing you to do anything, it’s just something to consider. I don’t like to see you when you’re in a bad spot,” Night finished, his voice a tired drone even while lecturing.

“I’ll see,” Enot felt touched, and a little guilty. Night was no stranger to seeing Enot at their worst, having to console them over the phone while they spiraled down dark thoughts late at night. He was also no stranger to helping Enot in nearly every aspect of their life, going over to their house to better provide comfort, sometimes even going so far to cook for them. Enot felt like a little bit of a liability, despite Night very adamantly stating he wanted to help the slugcat. Maybe they should show Night that they were determined to get better. Meditation wouldn’t be a bad start.

The car was put in a comfortable silence, Night was always content to sit in quiet. Enot watched the small town fly by as the car raced down the road. Car rides were always relaxing for them, it felt like a small, condensed vacation for a few minutes. Perhaps Night had the right idea with his “calming frequencies” thing, maybe Enot should try that too. The car suddenly turned into a small suburbia, weaving through the packed roads. The suburb seemed quite festive, as each house was densely decorated in fun halloween decorations. Every square inch of building was chock full with ghosts, lights, and projected images of spooky things. One of the house’s windows even had some kind of sheet over the panes, with a projected video giving the impression that zombies were clawing out of sight from the inside. Enot appreciated the effort, as they didn’t have much of an opportunity to decorate their dingy little apartment.

Suddenly, the car began to slow, Night swerved it closer to the curb before shifting it to park and killing the engine. Enot turned their head to the house they parked in front of. It was impressive, two stories tall and covered head to toe in fake cobwebs and faux spiders. Orange and purple string lights lined the edges of the roof, painting the decorations in a soft tangerine glow. How did Gourmand manage to get a house like this? Did he rent it? Enot knew Gourmand lived with Saint, but even if they both combined their income, the average double salary would probably only be able to rent or buy a small flat. Then again, Enot wasn’t the best with finances, so their math might be off. Maybe Gourmand was lying about working at a diner, maybe he really was a Michelin star chef.

The slugcat exited the car, taking care not to slam the car door shut too hard. Enot felt the flutter in their stomach worsen as they began to trudge toward the front door. It was show time, now or never. They pulled the burlap mask back down their head as they neared the door. All of a sudden, Enot felt quite self conscious about their costume. Was it too tryhard? Too shitty? Would people laugh at their average craftwork? They might ruin their first impression with their potential soulmate. What if-

“Wrong house!” Night shouted out from behind them. Enot paused, turning around. Night was standing on the opposite sidewalk, paws cupping his mouth. Enot flicked their gaze between the two houses, before sheepishly backtracking. They crossed the street to Night, gazing up at the actual house. This one was only one story, small, but cozy looking. Several carved pumpkins littered the porch and windowsills, light from the small candles within them flickering and bouncing. Small, white ghost props were hung up with thin fishing lines, giving the illusion they were actually floating. The porch lamp’s bulb was replaced with a blacklight bulb, serving to give an eerie glow to the glow in the dark chalk drawings that littered the front steps. It was less elaborate than the other decorations, but there was obvious heart put into it. That fitted Gourmand’s MO.

Night turned to walk with Enot, the two slowly ascending up the small grassy yard. The porch had a small wooden fence spanning its rightmost side, said fence completely covered with vines and other vibrant foliage. Flowers poked through the wall of green, vines weaved and tucked in every crevice, slowly beginning to pool into the front yard. That seemed like something Saint would do – they were kind of a tree hugger. Night walked up to the front door, while Enot slapped their cheeks as a way to pump themselves up. With a quiet sigh, they finally stood beside Night, who rapped the door with his fist. There was a few seconds of silence, that was when Enot noticed the faint sound of voices and music emanating from behind the door. The faint sound suddenly grew clear as the door opened.

There stood Saint, his vibrant and fluffy green fur contrasted by his costume; a monochrome baseball uniform. There were no tags on it that denoted which team he was dressed as, just a simple black and white color code. His cheeks had thick black lines right under his perpetually closed eyes. If Enot squinted hard enough, it almost looked like Saint had two sets of eyes. Night smiled.

“Heeey, you still got room for us?” He asked, friendliness lacing his tone.

“Yes,” Saint simply answered, side stepping to allow the two of them to enter, “Come in.” As per usual, Saint had not a hint of emotion in his voice, a simple calm and collected tone that fit his quiet personality. The two stepped through the doorway, Enot was almost immediately hit with a variety of pleasant smells. Sweet hickory, cinnamon apples, pastries of some kind, the telltale sign that they were definitely in Gourmand’s house. The music also grew louder, it appeared to be coming from the living room. The sound of voices emanated from various places around the house as well. Enot felt nervous hearing the mumblings in the other rooms. They wondered if they would be successful in their quest.

“Refreshments are in the kitchen,” Saint said, softly shutting the front door. Night nodded, the two of them headed deeper into the house, where the delicious smells originated from. Saint followed suit, Enot wasn’t sure if he wanted the food too or if he was just being an attentive host. As they neared the kitchen, Enot began to pick up the sounds of clinking and shuffling of pots and pans. Sure enough, entering the kitchen revealed the host in his element. Gourmand stirred and shifted, hips slightly swaying to the halloween tunes that poured from the small radio on top of the fridge.

“Feel free to indulge, we won’t run out anytime soon,” Saint said, waving a hand at the table filled to the brim with various horderves and snacks. Gourmand’s ears swiveled to their direction, before he put a lid on a pot of some kind of bronze colored liquid. He turned to the three, paws clasping together in contentment.

“Hiya! Thanks for coming,” Gourmand said, a smile adorning his lips, “Oooh, nice costumes.” Gourmand stood to his full height, towering above the three slugcats that stood with him in the kitchen. He was so tall in fact, his round ears nearly brushed the ceiling. What caught Enot’s attention, however, was Gourmand’s costume. He was dressed in a simple white dress shirt, black dress pants, and a stark black tie. His face was painted white, two black circles were painted on the corners of his mouth. Enot couldn’t parse what Gourmand was dressed as. Was he a slasher villain? That main character from the humorous zombie movie? Gourmand noticed Enot’s incessant staring, he shuffled uncomfortably in place from the unending gaze.

“What’re you?” Night asked, seemingly having the same trouble with figuring out his costume.

“Oh! I’m not entirely sure, this was Saint’s idea,” Gourmand turned to the aforementioned slugcat, “It was from a game, right?”

“Indie game,” Saint said simply, failing to elaborate.

“Yeah! I’m not too into video games, I’m more of a reader to be honest. Saint said the character kinda fit me.”

“What’s the game called?” Night asked. Enot’s eyes flicked to Saint.

“It’s not fun if we tell you,” Saint said, before taking a bite of one of the treats nearest to him at the table. It looked like a tiny apple pie.

“I know it started with an ‘O’, but the name escapes me,” Gourmand supplemented. Saint gave him an unreadable expression, one which caused the larger slugcat to raise his hands in surrender, “I didn’t say it! Not that a hint wouldn’t hurt.”

“It would. No fun if so,” Saint replied. Enot’s eyes flicked to the pair, apparently they were a joint costume. The hint still didn’t ring any bells to Enot, so they internally shrugged their shoulders and decided to figure it out later. Enot slipped off a gardner’s glove, picking up a small cracker that was topped with some kind of cheese. Enot lifted the burlap sack up just enough to free their muzzle. They stuffed the whole cracker mouth and chomped down.

“Holy tit fuck,” Said Enot.

“I haven’t heard that yet. I hope that means you like it?” Gourmand asked. Enot simply nodded their head as they enjoyed the snack. It tasted fantastic, apparently the topping was some kind of cheese. As soon as Enot swallowed, they reached for another one. Gourmand chuckled.

“Okay, I guess it was good,” Gourmand said. Night followed Enot’s example, chomping down on one himself. He hummed.

“Holy tit fuck is right. These are pretty good,” Night said with his mouth still full. Enot swore they saw Saint’s lips purse microscopically at the lack of manners. “What’re these, Gourm’?”

“Oh, they’re just a cheese on cracker recipe I decided to modify, feel free to try the other one’s too,” Replied Gourmand. Night obliged, picking up a small donut-like snack that was in the middlemost tray. “We also have drinks, they’re in the living room since we couldn’t fit the jugs in the kitchen.”

“Alcohol?” Enot asked.

“Yep, just try not to drink too much,” Gourmand leaned a little closer to Enot, “Saint has a deathly fear of vomit.” Enot glanced at the green slugcat again, who was quietly watching Night stuff his face with snacks.

“No promises,” Enot simply answered, Gourmand narrowed his eyes, unimpressed. Enot took their leave, Gourmand shouted out behind them.

“We’ll be having candy apples soon, so leave some room!” He called. Enot gave a thumbs up in place of an “Okay,” the burlap sack made moving their mouth a little difficult, a small flaw in their design. They entered the living room, the music’s volume reaching a crescendo. At some point, the halloween playlist was changed to a karaoke version of some pop song. Two slugcats sat in front of the T.V. One was a light pink, the other a light blue. The blue one, who Enot immediately ascertained was Rivulet, bounced animatedly in every direction, putting their heart and soul into their singing. The pink scug, Hunter, was much less vivacious than her karaoke partner, simply tapping a foot and bobbing her head. Enot scanned the room, catching another slugcat sitting on the couch, watching the two with a bob of their own head. They were a dark maroon, and sat crossed legged on the far left side. Enot watched Artificer smirk and chuckle at Hunter’s embarrassed singing, a foot on her crossed leg bounced to the beat. Enot’s eyes landed on their target: a table stacked back to back with plastic water coolers. Each nozzle had a piece of duct tape slapped above them, the names of the contents were written in black sharpie adorned on the silver strips.

Yet another slugcat was watching the karaoke match, an arm leaned on a smaller cooler labeled “WATER.” They were purple, skinny, and tall, at least, Enot figured they were entirely purple. The rest of the slugcat’s body was draped in a pale, dark blue cloak, face covered by a stark white mask, two large antler-like protrusions curved inward at the top. The purple slugcat stared at Enot through the mask’s dark and empty eye holes, Enot could spot two, white eyes peek from the darkness. To their side was a large sword-like prop, fake cracks and imperfections were carved into it. The costume was impressive, but Enot had no idea who they were and who they dressed up as. Actually, Enot had one educated guess on who it was. The guess was immediately proven correct as Spearmaster lifted the mask, the familiar face speckled with white freckles stared back at Enot. The black slugcat lifted their burlap mask to free their mouth.

“How long hav they been singin’?” Enot asked. Spear shrugged, setting the cup they had been holding down on the cooler table. They began to rapidly sign something, before remembering Enot had no idea what they were saying. They huffed, nostrils flaring, before they produced a phone from an unseen pocket. They tapped for a few seconds, before a text to speech voice played on the tiny speaker.

“They’ve gone at it for thirty minutes. I’m pretty sure Hunter’s losing steam,” Spearmaster “said.” Enot turned back to the singing pair. Hunter was definitely less animated, not that she was moving very much before. As expected, though, Rivulet was still going strong, pink frills bounced and swayed as they danced enthusiastically. Enot smirked, turning back.

“Y did she challenge Riv’?”

“Good old fashioned hubris,” Spears said, “No one sane would challenge them in an endurance game. Even if I could sing I would deny a match.” That made sense. Spears was one of the few slugcats that could rein in Rivulet’s hyperactive attitude. A big part of that was probably how close they were. Anytime Enot saw one of the two, they were accompanied by the other. Enot wasn’t entirely sure if they were just best buds connected at the hip, or they were “something else.” Neither theory was confirmed or denied, and to be honest, Enot was waiting for the moment where one of them pecked the other on the cheek. Well, maybe just Rivulet, Spears’ lack of a mouth seemed like a hindrance in that regard. That thought caused Enot to pause, eyes flicking to the cup that Spears was holding again.

“Wait wut? How’re you drinking?” They asked. Spears responded by flipping the plastic cup upside down, revealing nothing within it, “Oooh, jus’ party ambience? I get that.” The two shared a knowing nod as the music began to finally die down. Enot glanced back at the singing duo, which now only had Rivulet standing there. Hunter was relegated to laying on the couch, legs sticking over the opposite edge. Enot had an opportunity to get a decent look at her costume. She was dressed in a dark gray hoodie, fake blood spilled over the collar and down the front. She had black pants and scuffed sneakers on. Both the sleeves of the hoodie and legs of the pants were wrapped in duct tape. Her muzzle was covered in fake blood, her eyes had dark circles painted around them. Hmm. Another costume that Enot couldn’t figure out, they knew she was some kind of zombie, but it looked too specific to be generic. Maybe they should start branching their media tastes farther than T.V. shows.

Enot’s gaze turned to Rivulet, they wondered what she was dressed as. That was a big mistake; the black slugcat locked eyes with the blue speed demon. As far as the gilled slugcat was concerned, that was an invitation. They crossed the room in under a second, a smile adorned their lips.

“Hi! Wanna sing karaoke?” Rivulet said, excitement laced their voice. Enot watched Spears flail a gesture behind Rivulet, one that probably loosely translated to, “You are fucked the second you agree to a song with this hellion,” Or something along those lines. Unfortunately Enot had little time to answer before a gruff voice rang from the couch.

“Oh, Enot was practically jumping to get a turn with you, Riv’!” Rang Artificer from her laid back position on the couch. Hunter laughed beside her. Rivulet’s face lit up in happiness. Just like that, Enot’s fate was sealed. Spears wore a mournful expression as Enot was dragged to the front of the T.V.

“Alright, alright, what song do you want?” Rivulet asked, handing Enot the oblong T.V. remote, “I’m up for any genre. Pop, rock, grunge, nightcore, even death metal!” Enot hummed. If they were about to experience death by exhaustion, they might as well do it to a song they like. They flicked through menus, typed in the name – specified as the karaoke version – and started the video. The start of the song rang from the speakers, Enot flipped the end of the remote toward their mouth as if it was a microphone. Rivulet relegated to using a half empty water bottle as their microphone.

The following few minutes were an agonizing reminder of Enot’s feeble stamina. Initially, Enot sang the song fantastically (in their opinion,) but began to stumble over a few words at the end. The black slugcat felt pride at their decent performance as the song rolled to a stop. That wasn’t that bad! Hunter and Spears were just melodramatic! Enot mulled those foolish thoughts in their head as Rivulet started a different song. Enot asked what they were doing, Rivulet said that they weren’t done yet. Enot wanted to voice their protest, but Rivulet looked genuinely happy to have someone to sing with, so the black slugcat stayed silent. The next song was not performed as well as Enot wished, but it was still serviceable. Enot watched in dismay as Rivulet started yet another song, making an effort to reciprocate a smile with the blue scug. This song was also sung to the best of Enot’s ability, but began to turn into a slog at the end. Enot pretended to dust themselves off as the song ended. They were definitely done, they had to be, no normal slugcat could keep going after that. Enot felt like crying as their sky blue abductor set up ANOTHER song. Enot mumbled a majority of the words, body more shaking and swaying rather than bouncing. The visage of the words burned a hole in Enot’s vision, the beat of the song was a hellish metronome, counting down the seconds to Enot’s death. Their jailer bounced and flailed like they were onstage beside them, still full to the brim with energy. They should’ve run, they should’ve cut off Artificer. The “what could haves” flashed in Enot’s mind as they slogged through the theme to their demise. The song ended, and Enot practically collapsed on the spot. Before Rivulet could start one more song, Enot stopped them.

“U know, I wud love to do another 1,” Enot panted, “But I’m prety sure Arti’ wants a turn.” The maroon slugcat’s eyes widened as the gaze of the demon was set upon her.

“You’re up for round two? Great!” Rivulet pulled Artificer from her seat, who stared daggers at Enot. Now that she was standing, Enot actually got a decent look at her costume. She was dressed in some kind of space marine get-up. A verdun green short sleeved shirt, stuffed with fake muscles, and a pair of pants the same color – which also had fake muscles. The pants held a slightly lighter green combat belt, which held small square pouches that spanned the length of it. She donned dark brown leather gloves, her head was clasped in a dark gray helmet which only let her eyes and the top of her muzzle poke out. Said eyes were trying to kill Enot through invisible lasers. Thankfully, Artificer wordlessly took the “microphone” that Rivulet gave her, turning her death glare to the T.V.

Rivulet’s costume was fairly simple, a dark red cloak was veiled over their shoulders, nearly reaching their feet. They wore black pants and black shoes. What Enot assumed was supposed to be Rivulet’s mask was propped against the side of the cabinet the T.V. was held upon. It was similar to Spearmaster’s mask, except much more ovular. The strange smooth antlers that melded from the top of the mask gave it the shape of a squished crescent moon. Lastly, two eye holes were carved at the bottom. Hmm. Were Rivulet and Spears a pair too? Enot mulled over their costumes, trying to come up with what they could be. Suddenly, two paws clasped roughly on Enot’s shoulders.

“BOO!” Shouted the voice from behind them. Enot practically jumped ten meters in the air, an embarrassingly shrill shriek erupted from them. Every nerve was jolted, their brain was set off into fight-or-flight mode. They spun quickly in place, their rich brown poncho slapping their sides as it twisted from the velocity. They were greeted by a short yellow slugcat, who wore a mischievous grin. A white slugcat stood behind them, failing to hide their grin at the humiliating screech.

“Happy Halloween!” The yellow bastard said between chuckles. He was dressed in bright blue overalls, a red undershirt, and a distinct red cap. His paler brother, who was standing behind him, was dressed very similarly, except his shirt and cap was green. Both of them were still chuckling at Enot’s reaction. A smile graced the black slugcat’s lips, and they couldn’t help but laugh, too. Enot could see the humor in their overreaction, the scream definitely rang through the whole house. The walking heart attack, Monk, patted Enot on the shoulder, heading past them to say hi to the other patrons. Enot walked up to Surv, who was still chuckling a bit.

“Hope u’re insurance can cover my hart attack,” Enot joked.

“Heh. Sorry! I promised Monk that he could scare one person tonight, didn’t expect to see him use it immediately!” Survivor chuckled. Enot flinched at the volume of his voice, Surv talked like Enot was a mile away. With how often Enot heard Surv across the room in the past, they figured he didn’t believe in “inside voices.” The pale slugcat didn’t appear to be able to control his volume very well, it seemed to be his trademark at this point.

“Wel I’m honored I wuz the slugcat he used it on,” Enot droned sarcastically. Survivor grinned.
“I’m sure he’d be glad! I like your costume by the way, very cool!” Surv complimented, “Didja make it yourself?”

Enot puffed the chest up in pride immediately, almost comically, “Y yes I did, I worked all month on it.”

“I’ll bet! Can’t say the same for Monk or I, though. This’s just some rinky dink cloth we got at The Wall-Mart!”

“It fitz.”

“It does, but isn’t the red guy supposed to be older?”

“I thot u guyz were the same age.”

“I’m older by a day and a half!” Survivor states. Suddenly, Monk practically materializes from out of sight, Enot fights the urge to jump.

“No you’re not, I was told I was older!” The banana slug exclaims, Enot flinches again from the volume. It seemed Monk might’ve shared Surv’s lack of noise control.

“Yuh huh! Mom told me I was older!” Surv retorts. The siblings squint at each other, before Survivor pulls out his phone and begins to dial a number.

“Oh no…” Monk moans. After a bout of ringing Surv taps the screen, causing sudden soft white noise to play from the speakers.

“Mooom, who was born first, me or Monk?” Survivor asked into the receiver. A tired sigh rang out from the speaker.

“You were born at the same time, you’re fraternal twins. This is, what, the third time I told you?” Their mom explained. The two siblings visibly deflated at that news.

“Oh, alright then. Thanks, mom. Love you, bye.” Like that, Survivor hung up. Enot would’ve raised a brow had their burlap mask not cover their face. Survivor stuffed the phone back in an unseen pocket.

“Where were we? Oh yeah, costumes!” Survivor started, before Gourmand called from the kitchen.

“Candied Apples are ready!” The beige slugcat announced. Like a horde of zombies, Enot and the others piled into the kitchen in a horde. Night sat on a chair in the corner, head slumped into his own chest, loud snoring rang from his crumpled form. His wizard hat lay crooked on his head, drooping down from the angle. All eyes then turned toward the treats in question. Laying on the kitchen counter was a large tray, wax paper lined the metal, where nine candied apples were assorted in a circular pattern. Rivulet tried reaching for one, before Gour held out an arm to stop them.

“Ah ah ah. I must warn you all before you take one: one of them is not like the others,” Gourmand explained, leaning from the candied apples like they were radioactive, “One of them… Is a candied onion…” Gourmand had a menacing lilt to his voice. Enot studied the apples, but realized with horror that they couldn’t discern which one was the outlier. Fuck.

“I had Saint arrange them since he didn’t want one,” Gourmand explained, looking around the room of uneasy faces, “Not even I know which is which.”

“Apple roulette,” a quiet voice muttered in the small crowd. Enot couldn’t tell who said it. They glanced at the tray, from their position, they were the closest to the tray, aside from Rivulet. The aforementioned cyan slugcat plucked an “apple” from the tray, wiggling it a little to shake off the wax paper that stuck to it. They lifted the apple to their mouth, before Gourmand interrupted them again.

“Hold on. I think it’s more fun if we all take a bite at the same time,” Gourmand said, an uncharacteristically mischievous grin adorned his face. The group hesitated, before one by one, they plucked an “apple” from the tray. Enot studied their choice with a concentration that rivaled an ace detective’s. Nothing stuck out to the black slugcat, it looked like an apple. Was it?

“Everyone ready?” Gourmand asked, clutching his own candied “apple.” Everyone glanced at each other, looking uneasy and suspicious. The group looked unsure, sans Rivulet, who was just waiting to take a bite already. It felt like a wild west showdown, stances wide, shifting eyes, everyone was waiting to see who would draw first, who would be the unlucky slugcat. Gourmand held up three fingers.

“Three, two.., one!” He exclaimed. On the count, everyone bit into their apple. Enot closed their eyes as they sunk their teeth into the treat. The caramel was delicious, as expected, perfectly made by a five star chef in the making. With the salty and sweet caramel came a sour tang of the apple set in. Juices coated Enot’s tongue as they wrenched their head back. Enot’s heart soared with relief; they had a lucky break! But for some reason, the sour tang didn’t go away, in fact, it got worse. What should’ve been a sweet aftertaste just turned more sour, Enot crunched the piece in their mouth. The smell hit their nose, causing them to open their eyes. What should’ve been the soft off white flesh of the apple that Enot had revealed was instead the layered insides of an onion.

The taste became all consuming, burning their taste buds in the raw and sour flavor of onions. Their nose burned. Enot accidentally swallowed the revolting chunk, gagging at the dual combo of the offensive smell and taste. They dropped the candied onion back on the tray, their face scrunched in disgust from the violation of their taste buds. Everyone else crunched at their apples, before eyes landed on Enot.

Artificer laughed, “That’s karma for before, jackass!” Enot didn’t care about the comment, too busy trying not to projectile vomit from the acrid taste that still lingered on their tongue. The group chuckled, now relieved to see the “rotten apple” revealed. They began to eat their apples without worry, Rivulet practically demolished theirs in under a few seconds. Enot got a pang of sadness as they glanced back at the onion. Not only did they become the victim of a prank, they didn’t even get a real apple. Enot fought a frown, suddenly, however, an apple was extended in front of their face. A beige paw held the stick, the owner munched on his as he wiggled it in Enot’s face.

“I wasn’t just gonna expect the one who found the onion to finish it, was I?” Gourmand smiled warmly. Enot took the treat by the wooden popsicle stick that stuck from its bottom (or top?). They smiled back, taking a bite of an actual candied apple. The same delicious caramel hit their tongue, now partnered with the tart sweetness of an apple. Enot wasn’t very surprised that Gourmand already had a considerate back up in mind. He was always like that, ever since Enot met him. He was the type that anyone could rely on, the type that held others up whenever they were in a bad spot. Coupled with his size, he was practically a walking talking stuffed animal. He wouldn’t be a bad partner, either…

Enot stared at Gourmand as he chatted with Riv and Arti. They waited. Waited for… something. For a spark to light in their chest, for the batflies to flutter in their stomach. They waited for the desire, the want. Enot narrowed their eyes. Nothing. Enot did like Gourmand, but there was no burning passion, no hitch of their breath. The feelings were too… platonic! Enot stared a hole in the back of the beige slugcat’s head, desperately trying to will any romantic feelings from nothing. Frustration boiled in their chest. Why had nothing happened? Gourmand was a fantastic partner, loving, considerate, great cook, and plenty to hug. Where was the love?

“Testin’ your psychic powers on our host? Pretty rude,” Artificer’s said. Enot jumped a little as she interrupted their concentration. Enot glanced at the maroon slugcat. At some point, she had taken her helmet off, presumably to eat the apple. A brow was raised above her scarred eye, her face had the expression like she wanted to say more. Enot considered a question to ask her.

“You’ve been in relationships before, right?” Enot asked. Arti blinked from the sudden switch in topic. She mulled over the question.

“Yeah. A few. Why? You tryna ask me out?” Artificer asked, her eyes traced from where Enot was looking, landing on Gourmand, “Unless… You have a crush on the big guy?”

Enot nearly hung their head, “No. I wish I did.”

Arti furrowed her brows, “Then why’re you asking me?”

“What does it feel like? To be in love?”

Artificer sputtered at that question, “Wh-. Uh. It feels like… Hm.” The maroon slugcat seemed out of her element, “It feels like…” Suddenly, she glanced at the crowd, eyes settling on a pink slugcat.

“It feels like you’re warm. Like you’re filled with energy you’ve never had before. Something about the person feels so right, like the missing piece in your life,” Arti snapped her gaze back to Enot, looking like she just got caught, “Or something like that.”

Enot frowned. None of those feelings came forth, none. For their past relationships, Enot never felt any of that. They loved their partners, sure, but more like they were really close friends, nothing like what Arti had described. Were they broken? They knew their eyes were not that of the average slugcat’s. Did it stem from something deeper? Were they broken at their base layers? Not even functional enough to feel such a basic emotion? Arti seemed to sense the black slugcat’s distress, as she placed a hand on their shoulder.

“Y’know, I wouldn’t worry too much about it, bud,” Artificer said, still visibly out of her element, “Love is cool and all, but it ain’t the end all be all of life.” Despite her comforting words, Enot wasn’t very swayed. If love wasn’t the end all be all, why was it so omnipresent? Why was it, wherever Enot looked, wherever they peaked their head in, love was there?

“Hey don’t tell anyone else, but,” Arti leaned in, whispering. She pointed at Monk, “I think Little Mr. Heart Attack over there might have a decent idea of what you may be dealing with. Just so you know.”

Despite Enot’s soured mood, they appreciated the pointer. They hummed, glancing at the banana slugcat. Maybe later. Enot didn’t have the energy at the moment to endure that conversation.

“I’ll consider it. Thx, Arti’,” Enot shone a genuine smile at her. She reciprocated, patting them on the shoulder.

“No pressure. I’m gonna try and steal some recipes from Gorm’, catch ya later,” The maroon slugcat said, trudging off to the larger slugcat in the corner. Enot finally finished their candy apple, now reduced to an apple core with on a stick, and chucked it in the trash. They weren’t exactly satisfied, however, so they snagged a couple more snacks from the dining table. They didn’t exactly look like they were gonna be gone soon, anyway. A very groggy nightcat approached Enot, his half lidded eyes were somehow even more tired looking. Maybe he hadn’t gotten much sleep last night. Enot extended a small handheld pastry to him, he shook his head and held a hand up.

“I think I’m good with the snacks. I think I was just put in a sugar coma,” He mumbled, rubbing his eyes. Enot shrugged and tossed the pastry into their mouth. Yum! It seemed to be some kind of blue fruit type cake. Enot’s mood was still not the best, but the treats definitely helped. Night also being awake again calmed them somewhat. The two slugcats trudged back into the living room, plopping down on the soft couch. It was then how Enot noticed how much their feet ached, they’ve been standing for a while. They tossed a few more snacks into their mouth, simply enjoying the silence. They took a glance at Night, who was now slumped sideways, back to snoring. Well, that was short lived. Enot remembered how Night told them he was working a bit more on overtime nowadays, since the cafe he worked at was short staffed. Maybe the exhaustion was catching up to the poor slugcat. Enot decided to leave him there, they draped their poncho on top of him like a makeshift blanket.

A flash of yellow in the corner of Enot’s eye appeared, accompanied by the sound of someone landing on the couch. There Monk sat, surfing his phone. The lights danced in his large black eyes as he scrolled. Enot’s eyes flicked from Monk to Night, pondering the words of advice from Arti before. There was no one else here besides the three slugcats, and one of them was asleep. Enot was technically alone with the banana colored slugcat. Enot bit their lip, taking a small sigh before breaking the silence.

“Uh. I wuz talkin’ with Arti’ before, rite?” Enot started. Monk lowered his phone, resting his chin on a his paw, “And she sayd that you might know wut I’m dealing with…”

Monk seemed interested, “Mmhmm?”

“I-I was wondering…” Enot trailed off, their mind was firing blanks. They weren’t known to struggle with talking, let alone stuttering. What was wrong? “I’m struggling with love. Feeling love, reelly.”

Monk was very interested now, “How’re you struggling?” His voice was much quieter than usual, he probably sensed the seriousness of the conversation.

“Faling in love, an’ keeping it. I nevr feel the ffeelings others sae they get. I feel no fluttering in my stomac, or feeling like I’m lighter. I think something might be wrong with me.”

“Hmm. Let me ask you: how do you feel about kissing?”

“I don’t liek it. It feels too wierd. Too… gross.”

“I see…” Monk had a pondering look to him. A far cry from the little shit that took a few years off of Enot’s life with that scare, earlier. Maybe Enot was right to ask him, “Have you ever had a crush before?”

“I thot I did. I tricked myself into theinking it was. I don’t think I ever had a real crush before. I was frustrated.”

“Why were you frustrated?”

“Because evryone else made it lok so easy. It made me realize I was doing something wrong. Even now I cant keep anything for too long, it fels off.”

“I think I understand what you may be dealing with.”

“Realy?”

“Yeah, hell, I think I have it, too. It’s cal-” Monk was interrupted by the sudden barrage of colors as the party moved into the living room. Monk raised a brow, as did Enot.

“What’s going on?” He asked.

Hunter turned to answer him, “Spin the bottle! Wanna join?” She shook an empty bottle in her paw for effect. Monk lit up like a light.

“Hell yeah!” He exclaimed. Enot hid the frustration from the interruption. What was Monk going to say? They’ll have to ask him later. Spin the bottle did sound fun, if a little juvenile, maybe it would help get Enot’s mind off their own dysfunction. They joined the other slugcats as the all took spots in a loose circle around the bottle. Hunter kept standing, her hood having been removed.

“Alright,” She started, looking around the room like an instructor, “We will be going clockwise in this circle, the person who spins the bottle will force the slugcat who it lands on to do Truth or Dare. If the slugcat cannot complete their truth or dare, they will take a bite of this.” Hunter raised the candied onion in the air menacingly. Enot could practically taste the sour and acrid flavor of the disgusting “treat.” Other slugcats in the room had similar reactions, all except Spears, who looked around unimpressed at everyone’s reaction. Enot guessed they were immune to the threat, maybe they’d just make him smell it or something.

“We will be starting with Survivor, and ending with him. We’ll go as many rounds as it takes before someone takes a bite of the onion, once that happens, the game will end,” Hunter finished, setting the vile apple back on its paper plate. Rivulet, who was next to the side table it was set on, gave it a wary glance, leaning back a little as if it would get up and bite them. Hunter took her spot in the circle, all eyes then sat on Survivor. He looked a little uncomfortable from the attention, but leaned forward, grabbed the bottle, and spun it. The circle watched the bottle spin, a pendulum of imminent doom. It slowed, landing on Saint. Enot was a little surprised to see the light green slugcat join the game, even hippies get lonely apparently. Survivor put his head on his closed fist.

“Truth or Dare, Sainty?” The pale slugcat asked.

Saint did not hesitate to answer, “Truth.”

“Hmm…” Survivor mulled over his question with a worrying amount of deliberation, “Are you dating anyone?”

“Yes,” Saint answered, calmly adjusting their black baseball cap, a wave of “Ooo’s” rang around the living room. Survivor looked surprised.

“Really?! Who?” He asked with as much incredulity as someone could manage. Enot swore they saw Gourmand jump up if only by a half centimeter.

“You used up your ‘truth’.”

“Dammit!” Surv snapped his fingers. The next slugcat was Hunter, who did not hesitate to lean forward and spin the bottle as hard as she could. It landed on Arti.

“Truth or-” Hunter was unable to finish her sentence.

“Dare!” Artificer exclaimed.

“I dare you to do a backflip.”

“I- What? That’s it? Lame ass.”

“Alright fine, a backflip while drinking beer.”

“That’s better,” The maroon slugcat rose, her red solo cup already full of the aforementioned liquid. She trudged to a spacious part of the living room, Gourmand looked uneasy. She raised the cup to her lips, tilted it back, and sprung backwards. Her trajectory was off, she managed to flip upside down, but failed to land on her feet, instead slamming on the ground back first with a resounding “OOF!” The cup of beer she had vollied right into her face, drenching her front half in the amber liquid. Hunter giggled.

“I’ll count that,” She said. Artificer sputtered as she got back up.

“You better, this shit stains and it’ll be your head,” Arti threatened. As she returned to her spot, she leaned forward and spun the bottle, due to her being next. The bottle spun. Saint. All eyes were on the verdun slugcat, who hadn’t even moved a hair. He seemed to mull what to choose, or, at least Enot assumed he was. He wasn’t really moving all too much, besides his calm breathing.

“Dare,” He said, breaking the silence before it could turn uncomfortable. Arti rubbed her hands with an evil grin.

“I dare you to use your tongue like a lasso,” She said. Rivulet made a face that bordered between disgusted and intrigued. Spearmaster beside them just looked disgusted. Saint calmly got up, taking the time to brush his pants off with a paw. He stuck his tongue out, Enot cringed as they watched the tongue slowly begin to grow in length. It was a very strange ability, Enot would dare to say that it was freakier than their own eyes. It didn’t help that it was from the same slugcat that always sat in a perpetual and eerie calmness, it would be more fitting if it was on a slugcat like Rivulet. The group watched in fascination as the tongue continued to grow, before Saint grabbed it like it was a rope. He made a small loop with his tongue, before swirling it in the air like a lasso. Saint even did a few tricks, he made the loop go sideways, before jumping through it a few times. Artificer looked legitimately impressed, up until Saint finished his performance by throwing the loop around Arti’s neck. She immediately started flailing, all while making a strange half choking half screaming sound as she threw around the limp organ. What little beer was still in her held solo cup was splashed on Survivor. Saint retracted his tongue and sat back down, the faint impression of a smile on his lips. Gourmand took his turn, spinning the bottle. It landed on Rivulet.

“Dare!” Rivulet interrupted Gourmand before he could ask. He stroked his chin.

“I dare you to go into the kitchen, get four snacks, and try to catch all of them in your mouth,” He said. Rivulet did not hesitate to zoom into the kitchen. They returned with four food items of different types. All of them thankfully looked like they wouldn’t fall apart when tossed. The cyan slugcat did not hesitate to toss one in the air. The snack arced in the air, Enot watched with bated breath as the Rivulet managed to catch it with precision. The second snack was caught with similar deftness, as was the third. However, Rivulet was struck with the curse of hubris, as they tossed the fourth and final snack, they closed their eyes. Their adjustments were off, and they instead ended up smacking themselves in a closed eye with the snack. The disorientation caused Rivulet to slam into a nearby wall with enough force to make them fall backwards. Like Arti, Rivulet took an ungraceful tumble on the floor. Gourmand shrugged with a smile.

“Hey they got pretty close, I’ll take it,” He said. Rivulet got up from the floor, untangling themselves from the bright red cloak they still wore. They glanced at the snack on the floor, before picking it up and returning to their spot. Spearmaster shook their head in disapproval as Rivulet tossed the snack in their mouth. Hunter grumbled a little.

“Urgh. Someone fail already. I wanna see someone eat the damn onion,” Hunter’s eyes flicked to Enot for half a second, she chuckled to herself. Saint took his turn right after Gourmand. The bottle landed on Monk, who perked up as the tip pointed toward him. Saint didn’t have to ask the question.

“I’ll do truth,” The banana slugcat said. Survivor turned and mouthed “Lame,” at his brother, Monk responded with an eye roll. Saint stared at Monk, Enot surmised he might have been doing his “thinking face.”

“What was the most embarrassing thing Survivor has done as a child?” Saint asked. Surv did not hesitate to start staring daggers at Monk, who ignored the death stare. A smile suddenly dawned on the yellow slugcat’s lips, Surv scowled.

“Don’t you fucking dare,” Survivor threatened. Monk did not heed.

“Well… It was more like a series of incidents, one that consistently pissed our mom off every time,” Monk started. Survivor looked half ready to get up and strangle his brother. Monk continued simply, “Survivor had a habit for a handful of years where he’d always chug water right before bed. And every time, Survivor would pee the bed. What’s funny though, is that it lasted until he was fifteen.” A few slugcats erupted in laughter, all fight seemed to leave Survivor’s body as he slumped in defeat. Enot giggled too. Hunter poked Surv while she laughed.

“Remind me not to let you crash on my couch, huh?” She said through chuckles. Survivor sent a glare in response. Even Gourmand couldn’t help but chuckle, however he had the courtesy to try and hide it. The group calmed down, a few slugcats began to look around. Enot was confused at the quietness, until remembering that it was now their turn. They spun the wheel- er, bottle. Which landed on Survivor. A rosy tint was still present on the pale slugcats cheeks.

“Truth,” Survivor muttered. Enot felt a little bad at Surv’s embarrassment, it wasn’t really that bad, but Survivor still seemed pretty burned by it. Enot decided to deliver some justice.

“Wut wuz the most embarasing thing that Monk did as a kid?” Enot asked. Survivor slowly rose to a straighter posture, sending Monk a smile that rivaled demons. Monk’s confidence deflated like a balloon, he sent Enot a wary glance.

“Little Monk here was belligerent as a kid, couldn’t take no for a damn answer. He would always react by screaming. So when our dad denied his request for a plushie while we were at the grocery store, he started belting out every curse word he knew. He started screaming ’FUCK, SHIT, PISS, BITCH, DIPSHIT, ASSHOLE!!!’ at full volume toward our dad. Everyone in the store was looking at us, and I have never seen him walk so fast out of a building. Monk still hasn’t lived it down,” Survivor explained. Another wave of laughter erupted from the group at Surv’s explanation. Monk just sat with his head in his hands, Spearmaster huffed a chuckle through their nose while they bumped Monk with an elbow as their way of teasing. Rivulet spun the bottle. While it twirled on the ground, Enot felt Night stir from his position on the couch. Sitting up with a tiny groan. He seemed to catch on quickly to what the group was doing, taking a seat next to Enot on the floor. The bottle slowed its rotation, landing on Enot. Rivulet smiled at them.

“Dare,” Enot said. They were feeling adventurous tonight. Rivulet visibly thought of something suitable. They suddenly perked up as they giggled to themself.

“I dare you… to kiss Night!” They exclaim. Enot’s good mood pitfalls. The mask they were wearing hid the evident frown on their face. Monk wore a similar frown. A few more “Ooo’s” ring out, one of them coming from Night himself. He laughs before he cranes his left cheek toward Enot, tapping a digit on it.

“Pucker up,” He says. Enot lifts the mask just enough to free their snout, forcing themselves to keep a neutral expression. They pucker their lips, before slowly leaning toward Night. Time seems to slow as they get closer to his face. It should be romantic, shouldn’t it? Why did it feel so… disgusting!? Enot felt sick. They closed their eyes. Bile rose in their throat, they began to sweat. It wasn’t right, it didn’t feel right. This was their best friend, they should at the very least be comfortable doing it with him, right? The disgust grew, and grew, and grew. Enot’s lips pursed tightly, their eyes scrunched up even tighter than before. At the last second, Enot wrenched their face away from Night, before swiftly getting up on shaky legs. They silently trudged to vile candied onion, and took a hearty bite from an untouched sigh. The crowd erupted in a mix of jeers and cheers, Enot did not share their excitement. A crescendo of noise began as small talk between slugcats began. Enot swore they heard Hunter call Gourmand a “mormon” with his choice of a dare while Enot chewed. As before, the onion was awful, but somehow, it was not as disgusting as the kiss was going to be. Enot still felt a little sick, and a little frustrated.

They really were broken, tried and true. They had felt the same disgust with kissing they had before with their past partners, the same conflict of emotions that always came. A thought came to Enot as they stared at the crowd of other slugcats. They were all slugcats they knew, all people they were friends with, no one new, no one like they hoped would show up. Their hopes of “the one” were misplaced, there was never going to be “the one,” and there never will be. Enot had failed in their one goal, maybe they already failed before it began. There was no one compatible for them, they were simply and perfectly fucked. They were broken from the get go, they just didn’t know it. Tears pricked at Enot’s gross and unattractive eyes, they wiped them with a sleeve. The tears weren’t from the onion.

“You alright?” Night asked, appearing from nowhere. Enot didn’t have the energy to jump, they were too busy spiraling.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” They quietly said. Night looked like he wanted to say something more, but was interrupted as Gourmand’s voice shouted over the crowd.

“Attention! Before the party ends, we have one more thing planned: a scary movie. It’ll be in the backyard, so grab a chair before you go out there!” He said, clasping his paws together. The group begins to disperse toward the back door, Enot stays there, paw still clasping the wooden stick that holds the candied onion. Night stayed with them.

“I’m not wholly convinced, bud. What’s wrong?” He asked, voice quiet.

“I’m broken,” Enot said simply.

“No you're not.”

“You dont get it. I am broken, I hav been from th’ start. Hav you evr wondered y every single relationship has falen apart?”

Night shrugged his shoulders, “I never wanted to pry, it wasn’t my business.”

“It wuz because I wuz nevr in love like they were. I thot I wuz, I wasnt. It always felt rong, I always felt disgust wen I tried to kiss them. I dont know whats wrong wit me!”

“The kiss from before made you uncomfortable? I’m sorry.”

“Its not ur fault. I nevr told any1 before. I was scared, I didnt want to confirm that I wuz broken.”

“Stop saying that, you’re not broken.”

“I am! I cant love liek other people, I cant hold a relationship! Im a freak who cant love, Im a worthles freak whos gonna die alone!”

“But you can love, Eno’. What is our friendship, if you can’t? A simple mutual neutrality towards each other? No! I care a lot about you, and I can tell you care for me.”

“But-”

“There's more to love than just sexual attraction. Love is the bonds we make, friends and family. You don’t have to get a partner to have love in your life.”

“Peopl talk so much about romance and stuf everywhere. What about that?”

“I think a lot of people nowadays focus on romance a bit too much. They act like it’s the ultimate goal in life, like it's the only thing of worth in life, and that ‘you’re a sad loser if you can’t find it.’ I think it’s all bullshit really, romance isn’t the end all be all of life, it is simply an aspect of it, one that doesn’t change the worth of someone.”

“But wut happens to the luv when you get a boyfriend? What happens when my friends and family get a partner? Youl be too buzy with them. Wut then?”

“You don’t just disappear when I get a boyfriend, Eno’. Remember when I was with Philosopher? I still visited you, and we still shot the shit at my place. You have been and will be a prominent part of my life, you won’t just vanish into thin air, you’ll still be here.”

Enot didn’t say anything as Night finished. They stared at a spot in the carpet as they digested his rant. Night was right, despite him dating that odd slugcat for a few months, he still kept in contact with Enot. They didn’t feel completely convinced yet, but they still felt marginally better. A paw on Enot’s shoulder snapped them from their thoughts.

“I love you, Enot. The others do, too. I- ‘oof’!” Night was interrupted by a sudden embrace from Enot. They wrapped their arms around the other slugcat, holding on like he was about to be ripped away. Night reciprocated, wrapping his own arms around Enot. They held the embrace for a while, before Night began to shift a bit. Enot realized they were still holding the candied onion.

“I think you’re getting onion caramel on my robe,” He said. Enot laughed and pulled away from the hug. Night was tugging at his robe to try and shift the stain to somewhere he could see it. Sure enough, there was a small patch of light brown on the shoulder blade area. Once Night found it, he began to lick the spot. Enot cringed a little at the sight. Night managed to get the most of it, leaving in place of the stain a small wet spot. He smacked his lips.

“Huh. Not as bad as I was expecting. Anyway,” Night put a paw on Enot’s shoulder, “Let’s get to the backyard, I wanna see whatever schlock they put on.” Enot let themself be led by Night. Enot dumped the grotesque “delicacy” in the trash. Now the horrid treat was in Rubicon where it belonged. They felt better, what used to be a pit of despair in their stomach was now replaced with a warm and fuzzy feeling. It wasn’t the fluttering in the stomach akin to love, but a warm contentment, a ball of hope tucked under their ribcage. They reached the screen door that led to the backyard, a sudden music sting accompanied with a scream was evidence that they started the movie.

A blast of cool fall air hit Enot as the two slugcats stepped into the soft grass. Bugs chirped and chittered in the bushes speckled around the backyard, a calming choir from nature. A small table with a projector sat in the middle of the small yard. Said projector – which was being manned by Saint – was pointed at a large white sheet hung between two trees. The makeshift silver screen showed the scene of a scavenger running away from a red demon, which was currently trying to shoot hellfire at them. An explosion rang out as the scavenger barely dodged a fireball hurled at them. The two slugcats creeped over to two vacant seats, which sat next to Survivor. The pale slugcat perked up as he set sight on the two of them.

“There you are! You just missed the opening scenes thankfully, I don’t think we’re halfway through the movie, yet,” Surv said, voice volume much too loud for the quiet atmosphere, “So the scav right there, right? He’s trying to revive his dead wi-” A series of “Shh’s” and “Shuddup’s!” rang from the various chairs, Survivor flinched but chuckled a little. Enot sat next to the pale slugcat, leaning back a little to get situated in the chair. Their vision was suddenly filled with a small paper bowl. A beige paw held it in front of their face. Gourmand smiled as Enot took it from him, heading off with more bowls of popcorn in arm. Enot didn’t really pay attention to the movie, they just enjoyed the company. They sat back, feeling a smile grace their lips as they heard a few chuckles from Night and Survivor at the ridiculously bad acting.

______________________

Enot sat back in the car’s passenger seat, their paws fiddled the small plastic bag that sat in their lap. It was full of a variety of snack items Gourmand made that had yet to be eaten. They watched the dancing yellowish bronze lights from the streetlamps wiz by on the dashboard. Night had his “calming frequencies” back on. The buzz it emitted was not as strange and disconcerting as Enot found it before. Enot’s eyelids felt heavy, they were convinced they were gonna fall asleep any second. Night turned down the volume with his right paw, his voice low to keep some of the peace the quiet of the car brought.

“I talked to Gourmand about anything in the future, and he told me you and I were invited to lunch at a diner next week. I don’t blame you if you’re too socially tuckered out,” He explained.

Enot smiled, a genuine one, “Sure Im down forr that.” Night made a tired grunt as a confirmation, evidently he was also a bit worn out socially. Enot closed their eyes, feeling sleep tug them. Despite their talk with Night, Enot still felt a sliver of doubt in their mind. Would they ever really come to terms with their situation? Enot felt the bag again. The bag was a sign of love, wasn’t it? It was innocuous, but to Enot, it felt bigger than that. Enot didn’t need to kiss or do anything fancy to show affection, the bag was a symbol of that. It was a small bit of tenderness from a good friend, and that was all Enot needed. The black slugcat closed their eyes.

For the first time in a while, Enot slept well.