Booktok Shirts Novels & Stories

They had purses but I snagged a backpack that was shaped like a cup of ramen that I could put all the clothes in. It was easy to see Marek’s towering figure in the men’s section. He was looking at the wall of shirts that were displayed with funny sayings or pop culture references. Walking the cart up next to him, I nudged him with my elbow. “Find anything you like?” “Why are they $25 each?” I had to seriously shove down the laughter. “If you buy three it actually breaks down to $17 each.” “I’m pretty sure I could buy every shirt on this wall and it would still be e cheaper than the one I’m wearing.”

written in bold black letters on the back of his shirt. Who the hell even wore clothes with their name on it nowadays?

“I hope so.” She seemed to remember she was supposed to be selling him something. “These shirts are pretty basic. The ones with the custom embroidery are over there. Are those more your style?” “Actually, I’m wanting something simple. And without sounding boring, I’m looking for white or black.” “Classic choices.” She eyed the breadth of his shoulders. The length of his arms and torso. Then pulled out four shirts. Two white, two black. “These are the same brand but the fabric weight is different. Try them on. The dressing rooms are back by the boots.”

It's easily my favorite fortress when I'm forced to reside in the city limits. A bright green flying disc cuts across my peripheral vision, and the moment my head turns to track it, my wolf hits a complete wall. I freeze dead in my tracks. There is absolutely no forgetting those high, sharp cheekbones, those full, dark lips, or those long eyelashes. He’s wearing a pair of bright athletic shorts and a thin tunic with bold letters stamped across the chest: My Book Boyfriend Is Better Than Yours. The ridiculous phrase actually forces a low chuckle from my throat. He commands my absolute focus in the exact same violent manner he did yesterday in my sanctuary.

Instead of following her, I make myself comfortable and lay on my bed, hoping she will get bored and go home. Instead, she comes out with a pair of black jeans, a belt with a silver wolf’s head as the buckle, and five coloured shirts. ‘You must try this one on first Boo-boo,’ she smiles and hands me a silver-grey shirt,’ ‘Can’t you just pick one? Then I don’t have to try it on?’ ‘This will be more fun, Magnus.’ Rolling my eyes, I sit up on the bed and remove my shirt. ‘Magnus, my-my, you're so much more masculine than I even imagined,’

Her eyes lit up as she shifted, eager to see what was inside. I held my breath. This gift felt like a gamble. She’d either love it or absolutely hate it. Kathrine peeled off the wrapping and lifted the lid of the box. On top, a pair of soft grey leggings was neatly folded. I’d noticed she preferred comfort over flashy fashion. Beneath the leggings was a t-shirt Noah had chosen and personalized. She unfolded the shirt and held it up. The design showed an open book with a heart nestled between the pages. Below it, the words read: "I don’t watch p**n, I read it like a lady."

He brought out a black card and tossed it on the table. Scott Roger’s eyes blinked continuously on seeing the black card that was before him as he tried to get a grip of himself. "I can see that you only shuffle between four different shirts. The polka dot shirt that I hate, the black plain buttoned t-shirt, the green striped shirt, and the plain white t-shirt. That is my black card and the passcode to the card is 3446! Go to the boutique at LIOR house of luxury! Select fifty shirts, thirty pants, forty shoes, and other things that depict masculinity " Connor said while Scott nodded his head.

“WHERE ARE MY CLOTHES?!” “Whatever do you mean, brother? How would I know? Aren’t those shirts right there?” She said, pointing at the open luggage and feigning innocence. The shirts are in neon colors: pink, green, orange, and yellow. Jude picks up one of the shirts, and the logo reads, ‘GIRLS WANNA HAVE FUN!’ Then he picks up another one, and it has a teddy bear riding a unicorn. Not to mention, they all look a size too small.

a sexy librarian. During that first encounter, I struggled to focus my attention on her face (or Janie), because her tits were an eyeful. Either she had big, hard nipples or puffies poking through her bra; they were almost impossible to ignore. The t-shirt hugged her body and showed everything she had to offer; the shirt had "Books Make Everything Better" across the front and I tried to cover my adolescent behavior by asking her about the shirt. She smiled, "I'm in library sciences and I got it at a library symposium...yeah, there are library conventions. I know it sounds geeky, but they can get wild."

After my lunch break, however, when I've done every other task I can think of, I'm forced to acknowledge that it's finally time to suck it up and start working on the piles of merchandise. I consider going all in and diving right into the T-shirts, but I decide it's better to start with something a little safer. Something that isn't going to bring my lunch right back up. Like... books. An entire bookshelf got knocked over in the scuffle, and the volumes are scattered across the floor. Books aren't obnoxious like neon clothing and key chains, right? Wrong.