Adventure Time: Fionna & Cake | Deadlocked
Nov. 3rd, 2023 12:16 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
bedesRating: G
Fandom: Adventure Time: Fionna & Cake
Characters: Marshall Lee, Gary Prince, Hana Abadeer (mentioned)
Relationships: Marshall Lee/Gary Prince
Words: 1,887
Content Warnings: Past child abuse
Tropes: Established Relationship, Nonbinary Character (Marshall Lee), Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Domestic
Summary: Marshall Lee experiences creative agony. Gary lies on the floor with him.
This month, I'm gonna be tackling NaNoWriMo! Sort of. I'm just using it as an excuse to focus a lot more on my writing, and also to try and actually write out as many of my ideas as possible!
My first 'fic for this month is this very self-indulgent one, featuring my latest fixation!! Bitches will see one (1) canon M/M couple in animation that isn't sidelined or the gay dads trope, and will literally lose their mind, and I'm bitches.
When Gary returned to his and Marshall Lee's shared apartment, the first thing he heard was the thrumming of an acoustic guitar. Not wanting to interrupt his boyfriend, he quietly placed the groceries he had picked up onto the kitchen counter, not announcing his arrival.
After a few moments, though, he noticed that the notes that were being played were the same set - playing on repeat, like a broken record. As he began to slip his jacket off, he walked to the living area, and spotted Marshall Lee; laying on his back, on the ground, staring at the ceiling as he played his guitar wordlessly. His brows furrowed. His voice vocalizing the notes that he was playing as he plucked the strings.
"Bum. Bum-bah bum... Dun."
...
"Bum. Bum-bah bum... Dun."
...
Gary, after a beat, decided to join them. Silently, he walked to them, lying out his coat on the ground before laying on top of it, staring at the ceiling, as Marshall Lee was. Less relaxed than them, due to his clean freak nature, with a stiff back and hands folded across his belly.
He never noticed Marshall Lee looking at him, but he greeted him once he had layed down, pausing his playing. "Hey."
Gary looked at Marshall Lee from where he laid, grinning a bit. "Hi." He looked back to the ceiling, looking over its slight texture. "Why are we on the floor?"
"Everyone needs some floor time."
"Do they?"
"Yeah." Marshall Lee tapped their finger against the body of their acoustic guitar, with the resulting sound being hollow and rhythmic. "I also crawled down here out of exhaustion."
"Did you?" Gary couldn't help the concern in his voice, his eyes again darting to Marshall Lee. "Do you need to rest? I have a thermometer, if you need it!"
"Nah. Just struggling with this song."
He played those five notes again, his eyes not moving from the ceiling. Bum. Bum-bah bum... Dun.
Gary looked at Marshall Lee for a few more moments, fidgeting with his hands without moving them from where they rested, before forcing himself to look back up and away. He wondered what he could do, sighing through his nose.
After a long moment of silence, he raised his shoulders as he spoke, voice uncertain. "Do you want to... talk about it...?"
"... Yeah."
There was a long pause, as Marshall Lee presumably gathered their thoughts. They took a big breath before speaking. "I feel like, whenever I write songs, I end up coming out of it feeling like I couldn't write what I wanted." They let out the extra air they had in their lungs with a sigh, before speaking again. "It gets there, you know, on paper. It's always what I set out to make... but it's never..." They struggled with their words, before eventually landing on, "Good enough," with a sense of defeat.
"And I know you're gonna say that it is, but it's never what I want it to be. And it's messing with my head."
Gary nodded slowly, not sure of Marshall Lee was looking at him or not. He considered his words carefully, before speaking slowly. "Well, why does it have to be so perfect?"
"I dunno. It feels like it has to... to make up for something."
"Like... make up for the fact that it's... me."
"But what's so bad about that? Music is supposed to be like that, right? A reflection of the artist? When you talk about music, you say that as a positive thing all the time."
"Those people are all famous. Or at least 'made it' in some sort of way. I haven't 'made it'. I'm not anybody that anyone wants to hear about. I'm just me."
Suddenly, Marshall Lee's voice perked up, suddenly speaking faster. "And I do believe in my potential. I think my ideas and my skills - I could do something great. I really think I could..." His voice slowed again. "... make something that could change people's lives. Or something."
Gary smile to himself, endeared. He could tell that Marshall Lee was a bit embarrassed admitting this without looking at them.
"I don't think I'm stuck-up. I just think that if I worked really hard, you know, I could do something important. I have some sort of concept for a song or an album or something, somewhere in some corner inside of me, that could be world-renowned and heartfelt and beautiful. But it's a dark corner. I have to find a way to force it out in the open, but I don't know how. I don't even know how to start looking for it."
Marshall Lee sighed. Not frustrated, but exhausted, still.
"So, when I go to write a song, it messes me up when it's not as good as I wanted it to be. Because if I'm doing the best I can do now, then when am I going to be good enough to make that one thing?"
Suddenly, Marshall Lee turned their head to look at Gary, their hair falling over their face, graceful despite everything. "Is it cool that I'm talking so much?"
Gary turned his head, as well. "Of course. It's like you said. It shows you're passionate."
Marshall Lee blinked for a moment, flustered to have his words thrown back at him, before grinning. "Right. Thanks."
Gary moved his head back so he was looking up just as Marshall Lee did. "I guess the only thing I don't understand is... why is it so important to you to make this... big, world-renowned piece of art? You just... I mean, I don't mean to put words in your mouth, but you seem quite comfortable, in this town's, ah... 'scene'."
Marshall Lee chuckled. "Yeah. I am. The local musicians and stuff, they're really cool."
Silence. Gary got the feeling that Marshall Lee was thinking, preparing to say something, so he waited. Observing the bumps and dips of the ceiling.
When Marshall Lee finally went to speak, their inhale was wet and shaky. Their voice cracking, like there was a noose around their neck, tightening with every word. "I just don't want my..."
Gary could immediately tell what he was going to say, entirely from the way he spoke. He quickly moved to push himself up onto one elbow, fully facing Marshall Lee, and placing a hand on his upper arm. Marshall Lee interrupted themself, looking up at Gary with surprised, tired eyes.
"She wasn't." Gary surprised himself by how firmly his voice came out. He took a breath, softened it, before saying again. "She wasn't." And, "Even if nothing you create makes it out of this town, your mom will never be right. She's not in your life anymore; you don't need to put pressure on yourself to conform to a certain definition of 'success' in her place. What she said, how she treated you - none of it can be justified, no matter what happens with your music."
Marshall Lee stared at Gary for a few seconds, not even trying to hide their surprise at Gary knowing what they were going to say. Then, again, their face softened, reaching up a hand to tenderly rest on top of the one Gary had on his arm. Closed their eyes for a moment.
Then, his face hardened again. Then, his brows furrowed, eyes still closed. Then, he said something that Gary couldn't have predicted.
"You're so far ahead of me."
"What?" Gary couldn't hold the disbelief back in their tone.
"You already know what you want to do. You know what your 'big thing' is gonna be, and you have this huge plan to set it up. Basically all you need is funding now. And it feels like all I do all day is lay around, wait for what I'll do to come to me, and... play my guitar."
One hand was still on Gary's, so Marshall Lee couldn't play anything on their guitar properly. They strummed the strings once anyway. Vrrrm.
"Marshall... you know that I'm not nearly that put together, right?"
"I mean-... but it feels like..." Marshall Lee's fingers pressed down against Gary's, firmer than before. He turned his head so that he was looking away from Gary completely.
"If you're going ahead while I'm staying behind, you'll eventually notice that distance, and go forward without me."
Gary's hand tightened on Marshall Lee's arm; he couldn't help it. He took a sharp breath in, then huffed, a wave of determination washing over him. "Please look at me."
Marshall Lee hesitated, but obeyed, again facing Gary with averted eyes. Eyes which widened when they felt Gary's hand slip out from under theirs, and touch their face. Recognizing the unspoken question in Gary's stare, Marshall Lee nodded, reaching to softly grasp Gary's shirt sleeve.
After having been given permission, Gary carefully pushed aside Marshall Lee's guitar, before wrapping his arms around him and peppering soft, chaste kisses all over his face. His forehead, his cheek, then his nose; kissing him until he earned a bubbling, slightly flustered chuckle from his partner, after which he pulled away to look at him properly.
"Marshall Lee, it is completely, unchangeably alright with me if you need more time to figure out what you want to do." Gary shook his head, but grinned. "I never said that you had to match my ambition, or plan as much as I do."
Gary pressed their foreheads together, closing his eyes. He knew Marshall Lee did the same. "You put so much pressure on yourself. It's okay to take it one day at a time. It's okay to not be where you want to be. You have a whole future to figure it out." He trailed one of the hands resting around Marshall Lee's middle to their face, holding it, caressing their face with their thumb. "And, if you'll have me, I would really like to be in that future. Whatever it turns out to be."
He felt Marshall Lee pull away from him a bit, and tug on his shirt sleeve. Gary knew what he was asking without looking, and nodded.
He was met with a soft kiss to his cheek, after which, he opened his eyes to look at Marshall Lee; still a bit flustered, but clearly happy. "Thanks, Gare-bear." They averted their eyes, but grinned. "I think I needed to hear that."
Gary stood up; too suddenly, he realized, when he glanced down at Marshall Lee and saw him looking up at him, surprised. Gary smiled sheepishly, stretching his shoulders absentmindedly. "Sorry, I just... Couldn't stand another moment on that dirty floor."
Marshall Lee rolled their eyes playfully, before standing up themself, guitar in hand. "I get it. My hero, braving the horrors of the floors for me."
"You're welcome," Gary replied earnestly, picking up his jacket and folding it over one arm. "I still have dinner to make, though, so I'll call you to the table when it's ready." Gary once again gave Marshall Lee a kiss on the cheek, having to lean down slightly to do so, before heading to the kitchen.
Behind him, he heard a familiar tune.
Bum. Bum-bah bum... Dun.
... Dun-dun-dun bum-bah dun-dah.
Fandom: Adventure Time: Fionna & Cake
Characters: Marshall Lee, Gary Prince, Hana Abadeer (mentioned)
Relationships: Marshall Lee/Gary Prince
Words: 1,887
Content Warnings: Past child abuse
Tropes: Established Relationship, Nonbinary Character (Marshall Lee), Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Domestic
Summary: Marshall Lee experiences creative agony. Gary lies on the floor with him.
This month, I'm gonna be tackling NaNoWriMo! Sort of. I'm just using it as an excuse to focus a lot more on my writing, and also to try and actually write out as many of my ideas as possible!
My first 'fic for this month is this very self-indulgent one, featuring my latest fixation!! Bitches will see one (1) canon M/M couple in animation that isn't sidelined or the gay dads trope, and will literally lose their mind, and I'm bitches.
When Gary returned to his and Marshall Lee's shared apartment, the first thing he heard was the thrumming of an acoustic guitar. Not wanting to interrupt his boyfriend, he quietly placed the groceries he had picked up onto the kitchen counter, not announcing his arrival.
After a few moments, though, he noticed that the notes that were being played were the same set - playing on repeat, like a broken record. As he began to slip his jacket off, he walked to the living area, and spotted Marshall Lee; laying on his back, on the ground, staring at the ceiling as he played his guitar wordlessly. His brows furrowed. His voice vocalizing the notes that he was playing as he plucked the strings.
"Bum. Bum-bah bum... Dun."
...
"Bum. Bum-bah bum... Dun."
...
Gary, after a beat, decided to join them. Silently, he walked to them, lying out his coat on the ground before laying on top of it, staring at the ceiling, as Marshall Lee was. Less relaxed than them, due to his clean freak nature, with a stiff back and hands folded across his belly.
He never noticed Marshall Lee looking at him, but he greeted him once he had layed down, pausing his playing. "Hey."
Gary looked at Marshall Lee from where he laid, grinning a bit. "Hi." He looked back to the ceiling, looking over its slight texture. "Why are we on the floor?"
"Everyone needs some floor time."
"Do they?"
"Yeah." Marshall Lee tapped their finger against the body of their acoustic guitar, with the resulting sound being hollow and rhythmic. "I also crawled down here out of exhaustion."
"Did you?" Gary couldn't help the concern in his voice, his eyes again darting to Marshall Lee. "Do you need to rest? I have a thermometer, if you need it!"
"Nah. Just struggling with this song."
He played those five notes again, his eyes not moving from the ceiling. Bum. Bum-bah bum... Dun.
Gary looked at Marshall Lee for a few more moments, fidgeting with his hands without moving them from where they rested, before forcing himself to look back up and away. He wondered what he could do, sighing through his nose.
After a long moment of silence, he raised his shoulders as he spoke, voice uncertain. "Do you want to... talk about it...?"
Bum. Bum-bah bum... Dun.
"... Yeah."
There was a long pause, as Marshall Lee presumably gathered their thoughts. They took a big breath before speaking. "I feel like, whenever I write songs, I end up coming out of it feeling like I couldn't write what I wanted." They let out the extra air they had in their lungs with a sigh, before speaking again. "It gets there, you know, on paper. It's always what I set out to make... but it's never..." They struggled with their words, before eventually landing on, "Good enough," with a sense of defeat.
Bum. Bum-bah bum... Dun.
"And I know you're gonna say that it is, but it's never what I want it to be. And it's messing with my head."
Gary nodded slowly, not sure of Marshall Lee was looking at him or not. He considered his words carefully, before speaking slowly. "Well, why does it have to be so perfect?"
"I dunno. It feels like it has to... to make up for something."
Bum. Bum-bah bum... Dun.
"Like... make up for the fact that it's... me."
"But what's so bad about that? Music is supposed to be like that, right? A reflection of the artist? When you talk about music, you say that as a positive thing all the time."
"Those people are all famous. Or at least 'made it' in some sort of way. I haven't 'made it'. I'm not anybody that anyone wants to hear about. I'm just me."
Bum. Bum-bah bum... Dun.
Suddenly, Marshall Lee's voice perked up, suddenly speaking faster. "And I do believe in my potential. I think my ideas and my skills - I could do something great. I really think I could..." His voice slowed again. "... make something that could change people's lives. Or something."
Gary smile to himself, endeared. He could tell that Marshall Lee was a bit embarrassed admitting this without looking at them.
"I don't think I'm stuck-up. I just think that if I worked really hard, you know, I could do something important. I have some sort of concept for a song or an album or something, somewhere in some corner inside of me, that could be world-renowned and heartfelt and beautiful. But it's a dark corner. I have to find a way to force it out in the open, but I don't know how. I don't even know how to start looking for it."
Marshall Lee sighed. Not frustrated, but exhausted, still.
Bum. Bum-bah bum... Dun.
"So, when I go to write a song, it messes me up when it's not as good as I wanted it to be. Because if I'm doing the best I can do now, then when am I going to be good enough to make that one thing?"
Suddenly, Marshall Lee turned their head to look at Gary, their hair falling over their face, graceful despite everything. "Is it cool that I'm talking so much?"
Gary turned his head, as well. "Of course. It's like you said. It shows you're passionate."
Marshall Lee blinked for a moment, flustered to have his words thrown back at him, before grinning. "Right. Thanks."
Gary moved his head back so he was looking up just as Marshall Lee did. "I guess the only thing I don't understand is... why is it so important to you to make this... big, world-renowned piece of art? You just... I mean, I don't mean to put words in your mouth, but you seem quite comfortable, in this town's, ah... 'scene'."
Marshall Lee chuckled. "Yeah. I am. The local musicians and stuff, they're really cool."
Silence. Gary got the feeling that Marshall Lee was thinking, preparing to say something, so he waited. Observing the bumps and dips of the ceiling.
Bum. Bum-bah bum... Dun.
When Marshall Lee finally went to speak, their inhale was wet and shaky. Their voice cracking, like there was a noose around their neck, tightening with every word. "I just don't want my..."
Gary could immediately tell what he was going to say, entirely from the way he spoke. He quickly moved to push himself up onto one elbow, fully facing Marshall Lee, and placing a hand on his upper arm. Marshall Lee interrupted themself, looking up at Gary with surprised, tired eyes.
"She wasn't." Gary surprised himself by how firmly his voice came out. He took a breath, softened it, before saying again. "She wasn't." And, "Even if nothing you create makes it out of this town, your mom will never be right. She's not in your life anymore; you don't need to put pressure on yourself to conform to a certain definition of 'success' in her place. What she said, how she treated you - none of it can be justified, no matter what happens with your music."
Marshall Lee stared at Gary for a few seconds, not even trying to hide their surprise at Gary knowing what they were going to say. Then, again, their face softened, reaching up a hand to tenderly rest on top of the one Gary had on his arm. Closed their eyes for a moment.
Then, his face hardened again. Then, his brows furrowed, eyes still closed. Then, he said something that Gary couldn't have predicted.
"You're so far ahead of me."
"What?" Gary couldn't hold the disbelief back in their tone.
"You already know what you want to do. You know what your 'big thing' is gonna be, and you have this huge plan to set it up. Basically all you need is funding now. And it feels like all I do all day is lay around, wait for what I'll do to come to me, and... play my guitar."
One hand was still on Gary's, so Marshall Lee couldn't play anything on their guitar properly. They strummed the strings once anyway. Vrrrm.
"Marshall... you know that I'm not nearly that put together, right?"
"I mean-... but it feels like..." Marshall Lee's fingers pressed down against Gary's, firmer than before. He turned his head so that he was looking away from Gary completely.
"If you're going ahead while I'm staying behind, you'll eventually notice that distance, and go forward without me."
Gary's hand tightened on Marshall Lee's arm; he couldn't help it. He took a sharp breath in, then huffed, a wave of determination washing over him. "Please look at me."
Marshall Lee hesitated, but obeyed, again facing Gary with averted eyes. Eyes which widened when they felt Gary's hand slip out from under theirs, and touch their face. Recognizing the unspoken question in Gary's stare, Marshall Lee nodded, reaching to softly grasp Gary's shirt sleeve.
After having been given permission, Gary carefully pushed aside Marshall Lee's guitar, before wrapping his arms around him and peppering soft, chaste kisses all over his face. His forehead, his cheek, then his nose; kissing him until he earned a bubbling, slightly flustered chuckle from his partner, after which he pulled away to look at him properly.
"Marshall Lee, it is completely, unchangeably alright with me if you need more time to figure out what you want to do." Gary shook his head, but grinned. "I never said that you had to match my ambition, or plan as much as I do."
Gary pressed their foreheads together, closing his eyes. He knew Marshall Lee did the same. "You put so much pressure on yourself. It's okay to take it one day at a time. It's okay to not be where you want to be. You have a whole future to figure it out." He trailed one of the hands resting around Marshall Lee's middle to their face, holding it, caressing their face with their thumb. "And, if you'll have me, I would really like to be in that future. Whatever it turns out to be."
He felt Marshall Lee pull away from him a bit, and tug on his shirt sleeve. Gary knew what he was asking without looking, and nodded.
He was met with a soft kiss to his cheek, after which, he opened his eyes to look at Marshall Lee; still a bit flustered, but clearly happy. "Thanks, Gare-bear." They averted their eyes, but grinned. "I think I needed to hear that."
Gary stood up; too suddenly, he realized, when he glanced down at Marshall Lee and saw him looking up at him, surprised. Gary smiled sheepishly, stretching his shoulders absentmindedly. "Sorry, I just... Couldn't stand another moment on that dirty floor."
Marshall Lee rolled their eyes playfully, before standing up themself, guitar in hand. "I get it. My hero, braving the horrors of the floors for me."
"You're welcome," Gary replied earnestly, picking up his jacket and folding it over one arm. "I still have dinner to make, though, so I'll call you to the table when it's ready." Gary once again gave Marshall Lee a kiss on the cheek, having to lean down slightly to do so, before heading to the kitchen.
Behind him, he heard a familiar tune.
Bum. Bum-bah bum... Dun.
... Dun-dun-dun bum-bah dun-dah.
