Fluffy Novels & Stories

Not if someone gets sick, not if someone dies, not if someone needs help. My mother shook her head, disgust covering her face at my very presence. She had the courage at last to let her true feelings cover her face. "Have a good life, Flinn." She slipped out the door. Just before she slammed it shut, she wedged in her head. "By the way, Fluffy has a liver disease and needs a serious leg surgery. See to that."

Alicia pulled the sheets off her and sat next to her. —Honey... It's time to get ready, you have to go to school, and we're already late. Alicia kissed the little girl's cheek; she saw how big that girl was and remembered when she was born. She was a beautiful and loved girl. The little girl had been born in the month of April and she decided to call her April. When she was born, she had brown eyes, eyes inherited from her. She had no hair at the time of her birth. From that day to the present she had changed; she was already huge for only being 7 years old. Her hair was long brown, darker than her eyes.

Tears slid down her face as she finally picked up the phone. “No matter the cost or the method—find Jonathan. You must.” On the beach, beneath brilliant sunlight, I felt a smile on my face, something I had not worn in a long time. Beside me, Margo Fallstar handed me a glass of juice and laughed softly as she cupped her face. “What do you think? Isn’t this place great? My best friend recommended it just for me!” Margo rummaged through her handbag and pulled out several pairs of sunglasses, each in a different style, and held them up against my face one by one.

I looked around for signs of trouble. “No, it’s shit. Lots of it.” I walked over to him and saw the shit he was talking about. A large area was covered with a light brown crust. It had been a lot darker when it shot out of the ogre’s rear end, but being baked by the sun had turned it to the colour of fresh bread. It had also expanded so it was high as my knee. A giant turd muffin. “Ah,” said Flossie, “is it supposed to move like that?” She pointed at the area nearest her, which was trembling. A bubble began to form.

She gasped. “Indeed, it is and it is small enough to be used as a hair stick, so you don’t have to worry about carrying it,” The Moon Goddess said. Jamie put it through her hair bun. “My second gift is a friend.” The Moon Goddess said. Suddenly, there was a silver glow on Jamie’s and a Black Cat appeared. “ Fluff!” Jamie shouted and squashed Fluff into a hard hug “I thought you were with your Clowder?“ “I was, but my Mother is a very regal Queen,” Fluff said carefully.

he said excitedly to the others. The one with black hair closed his eyes, covering the irises that were the same color as the night sky. “She’s here,” he said in a whisper. He turned to the other three, a grin on his face, and continued, “The Moonflower.”

A ping of jealously starts to bubble inside her, it’s wrong the feeling she is getting is entirely wrong she knows it but she can’t help but feel that way. Rosie has fallen asleep on the couch while waiting for Ryan to come back, but her peaceful sleep was disturbed when the sound of the door opening wakes her up. She slowly sits up; rubbing her eyes she looks at the door and sees Ryan, walking in with a wide smile plastered on his face. Behind him follows a beautiful looking girl, the girl is being very flirty with him; she is touching him once in a while and giggling. Rosie thinks the girl is a total fake; her smile makes Rosie roll her eyes.

He twists head the way an adult dog would do when attacking. “Ladies and gentlemen, fluffy has his opponent – the pillow – down but can he keep him down? Oh, he twists to the right and he twists to the left. There’s definitely no hope for poor Mr Pillow. Fluffy goes for the countdown – 1, 2, 3. That’s it people, meet the new champion of the world….FLUFFFFFFFFFY!” I pretend to be a wrestling commentator.

"I have got a new job." "Yeezy!" The girls jubilated. "But... I am working in someone's house as a personal maid." She paused

‘Here, kitty kitty. The little creature butted its head against my fingers, purring like a miniature engine. ‘He still needs a name,’ Lochlan said, crouching beside me, his shoulder brushing mine. ‘You should choose one.’ I considered the fluffy body, the round belly, the general air of edible softness. ‘He’s all plump and doughy, with that little white tummy… Let’s call him Custard. Like a custard bun.’ Lochlan was silent for a long moment.