GrimmUlquigrrrl

High school was full of cliques. There were the popular people, the quirky people, the artists, the nerds—and Bubba didn’t fit in with any of them. Maybe it was because he had friends from each group. He was especially friends with Fionna, one of the quirkiest people Bubba had ever met, but he could say that people from every clique came to him for advice. You see, Bubba was notorious for being a confidential source. He would never tell someone’s secret, and his kindness and wisdom far surpassed his years. By the time he got to senior year, almost everyone in his small-town high school had asked him for help in something. B

Marshall was only afraid of one thing. Only one, on the whole planet. One thing that was the incarnation of pure evil, and if anyone knew evil it was the king of monsters. No one knew, because no one else could see the evil in those creatures’ beady eyes. But Marshall saw. Oh yes, he saw. So when one of Satan’s minions showed up in Marshall’s house, well, Marshall went to war. He had thought he had eradicated every crawling demon in the vicinity of his cave-house, but one had made it through his defenses. And that one would not survive to spawn. Marshall donned his thick gloves, covered his mouth and nose with a surgical m

Marshall still remembers the first time he met Bubba. He’d heard about this killer masquerade that was supposed to be held, and while balls weren’t really his thing he hadn’t been invited, which meant he was definitely going to go. After all, he was a royal too, shouldn’t he at least pretend to care about the other royalty? It was important to have good relations and blah blah blah. He knew the candy queen had died just a few months before, leaving her son, the candy prince, to rule the kingdom in her stead. The kid was almost twenty, and this was his first ball. He heard about it through LSP, who was so “totes

Marshall Lee had loved Bubba Gumball. Everyone had. He was undoubtably the best king the Candy Kingdom had ever seen, bringing even deeper peace, prosperity, and further wealth to the already happy land. But only Marshall could say that Bubba loved him back. They had laid under the stars and pointed out the constellations. They had gone to the caves and explored. They had danced in the spray of the pink waterfalls. They had climbed the jagged mountains. They had laughed as they rode through the clouds. They had jumped into purple lakes. They had ridden across marshmallow meadows. They had sat in the moonlight and held each other. No one knew

Marshall had always hated Gumball. The pink man was so happy all the time, so Marshall had assumed that everything in his life was perfect. If it was anything else, the prince never let on. He was always smiling, always so in love with everything, like he didn’t know there was such a thing as darkness. Marshall was wrong. He could never say what made him float up to the prince’s room instead of staying at the party (which he had, of course, crashed, just to annoy the other man). Maybe it was boredom, maybe it was because he had wanted to scare the candy man, or maybe some part of him had known he needed to. It didn’t even