prompt: “Sing a song for me.”
ship: Princess Bubblegum & Marceline

 by: RadioWrittenHeart

~

This was not what Bubblegum had in mind when Marceline had given her a complementary front-seat ticket to her revival tour. First things first, everything was so … out there. Marceline’s old shows had consisted of little to no props or setup, dim lighting, and limited seating. Now, the entire stage was decked out, people were sitting on each other’s laps or shoulders- simply put, it was out there.

Then again, Bubblegum had only been a few of Marceline’s shows; and judging from her stories…

...well, she wasn’t going to recollect some of the insane things she had been told.

“Hello, Underground!”

Bubblegum coughed from the sudden cloud of dry ice and faux smoke that Marceline walked through as she came onstage. To say that the crowd went wild was an understatement; they were ballistic.

“Did you miss your Queen?” Marceline trilled, grabbing the mic from it’s stand.

Her bass hung lazily on her hip, and the microphone stand carelessly fell below her feet. Bubblegum remembered the days Marceline had no need for microphones at her shows, they were so secluded; now, she had gained a following. What else had she missed out on?

Marceline’s chuckle was low and deep, even when amplified. “Of course you did,” she said.

Bubblegum could only watch, observe as if Marceline was a new subject for an experiment. An experiment to determine many, many things involving the mysteries of the heart. Mysteries that they both knew would never get solved.

Especially with such distractions.

Distractions involving Marceline, of course.

Bubblegum wished she had something to take notes with…

The way Marceline’s long ebony hair, half shaved off of her head, flowed to and fro. Her crop top, slightly curling up as she swayed mid-air on stage. Her low, enchanting voice singing beautiful metaphors. And goodness, the jeans. Bubblegum knew Marceline’s rock star getup was scandalous, but this was just … just. It seemed so simple, so casual, but in this setting, it fit perfectly.

This setting, as wonderfully chaotic as it was.

There was a synth drum playing over the loudspeakers as backup, but everything else was all Marceline, ruling over like the Queen she most definitely was.

“Your lungs don’t need any of that,” she trilled into the mic. “I’ll fly around your heart, just like a bat. Honey, when your eyes have dried, you can’t say I never tried.”

Marceline leaned back on her heels, eyes closed as she rasped out lyrics.

“You need me, and I know it - but whoever said I wanted anyone now that I’ve been bit? Black and blue, nothing’s new, except the fact that maybe this time, we can stay true,” She played a quick riff, and the audience erupted into cheering, some even shedding tears. “Darling, please, let me please you, and the rest is all gonna come with ease.”

It was all such a contrast, the upbeat music yet looming lyrics. Bubblegum couldn’t focus on anything more now. She knew. That was why Marceline had begged and pleaded for her to come to a show. She had been saving these songs, she didn’t even have to say it.

In an attempt to crowd-surf, Marceline floated over the audience continuing to sing the same tune; “And now that we’re done with our fucking, you’ll treat me like a child, tucking me in, putting me away - but you should know I’ve never wanted nothing more, let’s allow our love to become legend and lore. ‘Cause your sweet lips and smart mouth make me think, hey, my favorite color just might be pink.”

She laughed, twirling in mid-air- and yes, Bubblegum noticed her love linger for a minute right over her…

...she caught that sly little wink- what a minx.

The night went on, and Bubblegum could have sworn stars were forming in her eyes as she watched the rest of the show. She realized all of the songs were connected, they were a storyline. Usually, Marceline’s songs jumped around, but this was like a legacy. She seemed to have completely changed her style, and it was marvelous.

Marceline had ripped out guitar solos, songs with nothing but riffs and her slick moves, and others that brought tears to her eyes- especially when she glanced down to the most important fan watching her perform.

There had been glitter, and sweat, and t-shirt cannons, and pure insanity.

Finally, the last song was nothing but guitar strums.

Everyone was entranced, and no one knew what it meant, but that was the beauty of it.

With one last smirk, Marceline threw her microphone into the audience, letting people tackle each other for it. Bubblegum paid no mind to the chaos, and simply watched as her love sashayed backstage, black boots click-clacking away and a few chords echoing through the building.

“Your Highness?”

It took a moment, but Bubblegum perked up and took Princess-like composure- only to see a very familiar face a few feet below her. “Pep Butt? What are you doing here?” she asked.

With his middle fingers curled in and his first and last held up, Peppermint Butler stuck his tongue out.

“Gee, Princess, I’m a huge fan of Marceline,” he said. “I go to all of her shows. It’s not a performance unless we leave in glitter and sweat - that’s a promise from her.” He ignored the Princess’s bewildered expression, and held out the microphone to her. “Here you go. It’s a tradition for her to throw the mic. Whoever catches it gets to spend time backstage.”

A soft “oh” escaped Bubblegum, and she took the mic. “Thank you,” she mumbled.

Why did she have the odd feeling that when she got backstage, she would be the one singing a different sort of song?

Oh, Marcy. What have you done to me?