Marceline Bubblegum Shirt Novels & Stories

That night I can barely sleep, tomorrow is Friday so I just have to wait one more day till I find out what Carlos has in store for me. The next day drags on, my thoughts are too preoccupied to sketch and Marcels babbling rampage of thoughts and historical facts seem to be in full action all day long make the day feel even more long. When 8pm hits Marcel claps his hands together "I know, let's go get you something nice to wear for tomorrow" I cross my arms and frown at his words "I don't even know where I'm going or what I'm doing, how will I know what to wear?!" I proclaim "well there's no harm in showing up looking your best" he says and quickens his pace ahead towards a bundle of clothing

Shirley’s voice was so loud, Nana even jumped in surprise. “Patience, Madam ... Mr. Marcelino has had an accident ...” said Nana stammeringly. Shirley snorted, her eyes scanned Marcel from head to toe with a probing gaze. “Why are you wearing those clothes?” Shirley asked curtly. “These are clothes from the hospital,” Marcel answered flatly. “I was in care for more than one night, that’s why I didn’t go home ...”

he asks, still not believing his ears. “Very.” “Marcella, I….” “You can take whatever you want,” I cut in, crossing my arms with a playful tilt of my head. “Anything in this mall. I’m paying.” That does it. He freezes completely. I swear he even stops breathing. I laugh softly, shaking my head. “You’re so dramatic.” Before he can argue again, I turn and start scanning through the clothes. Then I find it. A crisp, fitted charcoal-gray shirt…. slightly textured, with a sharp collar and subtle silver buttons. Clean. Elegant. Powerful.

Great. "Ah, you're here," the costumer says, turning to me with a warm smile. "I'm Marcel. I'll be creating your performance costumes for the gala." He gestures to a clothing rack. "We'll start with basic measurements, then discuss design concepts. I'll need you both in minimal clothing so I can get accurate numbers." Tatrum pulls off his shirt without hesitation and I force myself not to stare. Force myself not to notice the way the studio lights hit the planes of his chest and abs. Force myself not to track the line of dark hair that disappears into his waistband.

In fact, he often spends holidays with my family. Marcel is forty-nine with short, limp dark brown hair fading grey at the edges. He has a salt and pepper trimmed beard and soft hazel eyes. Outside of the frown lines on his forehead he only has some slight creasing around the corners of his eyes, but no other wrinkles to be seen. He always dresses sharply and is currently in black slacks, black Armani dress shoes, a black pinstripe shirt and a black tie with a gold diamond pattern in the design. He’s also wearing his usual gold wolf cufflinks. He loves anything to do with wolves, he even owns one as a pet which he named Blade, who is absolutely gorgeous! I step out of the cab as Marcel walks

Marcel slowly pulled down my long red dress, pausing at my hips. "You have very curvy hips," he said with a deep husky voice in my right ear as he stopped nibbling at my ear. I could smell his fresh breath hitting against the side of my face and his air rushing from his nose, heated with desire. I squeezed my eyes shut. I needed this to be done with. I needed my worries to go away. I felt Marcel lean over me. My hips were too wide; it was difficult for him to take off the dress.

Stepping out of the uber and waving goodbye to Gina, she began heading home, Marcella felt like she just had the best week of her life so far while a dark part of her told her that she had to be prepared for a very bad crash. Marcella arrived at the Founder's event, wearing one of the outfits they got. A white long floral gown that had an off shoulder and a high slit paired with a small purse hanging off her shoulder. The sun was shining bright and the air was filled with excitement as the festival was in full swing. Gina spotted her from afar and waved her over, her own short gown fluttering in the breeze. "Marcella, you look stunning!" she exclaimed as she hugged her friend. "I knew that d

Marceline entered one of the alleys, turned on the tap water, and began washing her hair and face. Her appearance transformed. Her original hair color returned, and her punk makeup disappeared. She removed all her earrings, adopting a more innocent look. Even the tattoo on her neck turned out to be a stick-on, similar to those used by children. Finally, Marceline changed into Saintly Woods' uniform. Suddenly, she looked like a typical high school student, free from trouble and drama. Now clean and tidy, Marceline entered a building and ascended to the third floor. Despite the moldy stench that pervaded the place, she paid it no mind. Finally, she stood in front of one of the most dilapidated

On my way home, I decided to make a quick stop. I went into a jewelry store and got some beautiful pieces for Marceline — a necklace and matching earrings. Something simple but elegant, just the way she liked. I made sure to be careful this time, not to repeat the mistake I made with the dress. After that, I stopped by a flower shop and picked a fresh bouquet of white roses. Marceline loved white roses. I could almost see her face when I handed them to her — that faint, soft smile I hadn’t seen in so long.

“Seren? You have to be joking. Just Seren?” She didn’t answer him. My gaze dropped to the uniform. It was too ridiculous. Tell me who wears a uniform that is too loose at the shoulders and too long at the sleeves. Marcel noticed, a faint grin forming. “She looks like she was swallowed by the fabric.” Seven’s head tilted slightly. “Is there a problem with the uniform, or are you simply entertained by things that do not concern you?” Marcel blinked once, clearly caught off guard. I felt amused by the way she spoke so eloquently.