Of Teary Living Stools and Over-inflated, Jerky Fruit Bats
Is it bad if (Y/N) had been lying on the bed for nearly two hours now since she woke up, regretting every second of waking up too soon?
A knock on the door.
"Yoohoo, (Y/N)?" Fionna knocked, her muffled voice through the door. "Breakfast is ready!"
"Just a mo'!" (Y/N) replied, hurriedly rising from her bed and wiping unnecessary trails of dried saliva on her face. She patted down her rat's nest of a hair before standing up completely and running towards Fionna.
"You feeling good now?" she asks as both of them made their way to the kitchen. "Because if you want, you can come with us to the Breakfast Kingdom."
(Y/N) laughs nervously. "Yeah. I think so."
Fionna gives her one last smile as she went up a set of ladders, climbing them really fast. (Y/N) eyed them unsurely, swallowing the lump in her throat.
"Come on up, sugar! Don't be scared." Cake's head poked out from the kitchen entrance, way up above.
(Y/N) was not expecting this.
"Uh, I'm not sure if——I'm not scared, but——"
Okay, the aroma of bacon and waffles were not helping her. It was as if they were luring her to her death.
She hated it when her lack of strength in her upper extremities stopped a hearty breakfast. Maybe she should've tried harder at gym class in high school.
But how come she had the balls to jump off a cliff yesterday?
Come on, she urged herself, cold sweat trickling down her forehead. Bacons. Bacons and waffles. Omelettes, pancakes. . .oh, grow some balls already!
"Yah miss me?"
A soft thud. Something small and hard hit the back of her head, but because a good breakfast is at stake, she ignored him.
"Shoo, fruit bat. Go away." she said, clinging to the wooden rungs of the ladder and trying to hoist herself up.
Marshall snorted and continued to pelt her with more of whatever it was he was throwing. His ammunition started to come with speed and abundance that it hurt. His aim was perfect as well, as it always hit her in the back of her head and an occasional one to her butt.
Much to her annoyance (she couldn't stand the guy), she made a sharp turn towards him. She bent down to pick up one of his ammunition and hurl it in his face, but what she saw made her stop.
They weren't rocks. Much to her relief, they weren't the stuff, either. It was something that might bring her to burn him in a spit.
(Y/N) was barely restraining herself from marching up to where he was smugly floating and throttle him, preferably killing him with her bare hands. She could see his face turning purple as she wrings his neck, and somehow that image gives her horrible, dark satisfaction. . .
So much for that 'friendship' thing he's offering. Now (Y/N) wants to strangle him with it.
The gray bits of candy on her palm used to be the cherry flavoured ones that Prince Gumball had given her. The one she was saving for sentimental purposes.
And there he was, smirking and looking annoyingly good in a blood red letterman jacket over a grey shirt. His hair was shaved on the left, and the rest tousled and swept aside.
"Woah. Your nostrils might breathe this whole room in, (Y/N). I doubt they'll fit in your head."
(Y/N) felt like she was going to burst. She grabbed handfuls of the fallen candy on the floor, giving him the best baleful glare she could pull off, and started chucking them at him with all her might. Then she found a fist-sized, smooth pebble on the floor and pitched it towards him too——
