Marceline Bubblegum Shirt Novelas e Histórias

“Mom, someone spilled choco milk on my shirt.” Little Madelaine pulled her shirt to show the brown stain on it. Her eyes were red and puffy as she looked up to her mother who gave a sad smile. “It’s okay honey, no harm done. Let’s just wash it off at home, okay?” her mother answered, grabbing her hand, guiding her out from the school. “But she intentionally poured it to me! And…this is Mickey,” she insisted pouting her soft pink lips, her fingers trailing over the sequence design sewed on her shirt that followed the shape of her favorite cartoon character. “This is my favorite shirt…”

It’s just a two-minute load of work, but there’s something calming about folding a blanket, straightening the sheets, and puffing the pillows in the right place. There are a few thin filaments of light piercing through a hole in the curtain, all perfectly hitting the floor. Being a lady who grew up doing household work, her first instinct was to open up the curtain to let fresh rays of morning sunlight into the room; however, as soon as she held the curtain hem, the door flung open behind her. Clad in a light yellow button-down blouse with a black ribbon and a knee-length maroon skirt, Marceline showed up. "Good morning, sweet roomie! I brought your uniforms," greeted Marceline in her usual

"If you don't visit us at least once this month, I'll be very sad." She smiled and excitedly replied, "I will!" Marceline got off her chair and went to the fridge. Pulling out a large lunchbox with a blue lid from it, she came back and sat on her chair. "A gift," she said as she handed it to me. "For moving out?" I asked and she nodded. I opened it and there were small snacks inside together with cupcakes that were a little overcooked. I smiled at her, touched that she even bothered. "Thanks, Peanut butterfly."

He was shirtless again, but wearing an apron, showing off his broad shoulders and lean waist. Why was he dressed like that? The comments were practically screaming: 【The villain is using every trick in the book to seduce her!】 【Those muscles… Girl, just touch them! He's waiting for you to touch them!】 My eyes, guided by the comments, drifted over Marcello’s body. Then my gaze met his. His eyes were intense, scorching. I quickly looked away, flustered. He seemed to let out a soft chuckle. “Two sugars, no milk.”

Umalis ang mga dalaga't binatilyo na naglalaro ng badminton malapit sa kanilang kinaroroonan kaya nagpasya sila ni Joy na maglaro muna bago lumusong sa pool. Dahil naka T-shirt, sagabal ito sa pagpalo niya kaya panay ang pulot niya sa shuttle cock. "Pagod ka na, Gie?" pangangamusta ni Joy. "Hindi ako napagod sa kakahampas ng raketa, napagod ako sa kapupulot nito," tukoy sa shuttle cock. Natawa si Joy sa kanyang tinuran. "Saglit lang, hubarin ko na lang itong T-shirt, maliligo rin naman tayo pagkatapos nito." Sabay hubad sa suot na T-shirt at naiwan ang pulang two piece.

Marcel smiled faintly, yet asking as soon as their lips parted ways. “If it works, then hey… why not stick with it?” He chuckled at her keenness, adding “come on lets go inside, I need a shower… the heat in that greasy kitchen is no joke, I literally smell like fried eggs and I wasn’t even the one cooking.” “Eww! More like smoke and burnt oil.” Marcel held her nose, scrunching her face in disgust. “Haha! I hope you don’t expect to smell like roses tomorrow.”

His arse was pointed towards the door, the position revealing both the beta’s balls clasped by a stretcher and cock ring, and that Reid had missed the main event, from the cum stains. “He can’t talk,” Marcella was dressed in a peacock blue satin kimono, untied, revealing that was all that she wore. She was fresh from the shower, her skin bare of makeup and carrying the scent of her soap. It had been a long time since Reid had seen Marcella without a wig, and seeing her dark hair slicked back to her skull brought back many memories of the past with Marcel.

Marcel hesitated a moment as if he was trying to remember something, "And tell Victor I'm leaving without him if he continues to spend time dressing up like a lady," "Aye, boss," Samuel said, speaking instructions in lowered tone into the wired comms in his ear. He was dressed in a suit just as the other soldiers that would be coming with him on this journey. Marcel abandoned the suit and chose to wear a charcoal black fitted turtleneck top with its corresponding pants, finalizing his look with a burgundy red coat since the weather was cold today. With his blonde hair gelled back, Marcel looked particularly classy - and of course warm- with the coat giving a minimalistic look with the button

“I’ll change. Just—stop acting like this.” Marcel didn’t smile. He didn’t soften or give me that smug look of victory I expected. He only watched her for a long second, eyes dark and unreadable, like he was deciding whether her answer was enough or merely acceptable. “Good,” he said finally, his voice a low rumble that seemed to vibrate in the space between us. “Where’s your other shirt?” The question landed with a dull thud against my ribs. I blinked, feeling the heat rise to my cheeks. “I don’t have one.”

He was bringing in some of his stuff when he saw her staring at a shirt of his. She turned around as she heard him come in. "What in God's name is this?" She asked, amusement dancing in her eyes. Marcel cringed at the sight of his old shirt, his sister Juliet had gifted him on his 22nd birthday. It was a shirt with his face on it. He was lying down on the toilet seat completely wasted. His eyes were shut and there was puke at the corner of his mouth “You look ridiculous.” Abigail said, holding back laughter.