Mutual Weight Gain Art Novels & Stories

“All those flesh rings disgust them and make them lose their appetite for our artworks. How could we have such a fat woman showing young men our artworks or even coming anywhere near them?” I took a deep breath, but my throat went dry, making breathing almost impossible. My eyes started to tear up, but I bit my lower lip to stop the tears from coming. “Is being chubby a crime, ma’am?” I asked through shaky lips, trying hard not to cry. “Yes! Maeve, being chubby is a crime in this gallery! Look at the curator. She’s beautiful, fit to be seen in the art world. Everyone who works here must be as beautiful as the art we are trying to market—not the other way around,” her face cringed in disgust

"I've been eating everything in sight and I've still lost… let's see… almost twelve pounds! Ugh, it's so annoying." I lifted my gaze. It was true. On her petite frame, the loss was dramatic. Her cheekbones were sharper, her collarbones pronounced, giving her a gaunt, almost modelesque look. I let my shoulders slump, painting misery across my face. "I don't get it… I've been doing everything right, but I've gained ten pounds. I feel horrible." My display of defeat was the fuel she needed. Her preening intensified. "I guess it's just genetics! Some people are just born to be lucky, you know? Right, Zach?"

One sunny afternoon, as Liam and Jake enjoyed a leisurely stroll through a bustling city park, they stumbled upon a small outdoor art exhibition. Intrigued, they decided to explore the vibrant display of paintings and sculptures. As they admired the artwork, Liam's eyes were drawn to a particular painting—a mesmerising portrait of a mysterious woman with striking resemblance to Jake. The artist, a young and talented painter named Lucas, approached them, beaming with pride at his creation. "Ah, I see you've noticed my latest masterpiece," Lucas exclaimed, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "This painting is inspired by the beauty and complexity of human relationships.

Angela. Six months after Victoria's birth, I stood in the main gallery of the Art Institute, surrounded by my work. The exhibition was titled "From Grief to Grace: A Journey in Color," and it chronicled my transformation from the broken young woman who'd lost her mother to the wife, mother, and foundation director I'd become.

The sun shone brightly over the city, casting a warm glow over the bustling streets. Andrea's art studio was a hub of creativity, filled with paintings that told stories of hope and resilience. Her latest exhibition, "Rebirth," had received critical acclaim, and art enthusiasts from all over the world flocked to see her work. The studio was a reflection of her soul, a place where she poured her heart and emotions into every brushstroke. As she stood amidst her artwork, she felt a sense of pride and accomplishment.

Audrey nods in agreement, recalling her own experiences with painting during her school days. They find common ground in their shared understanding of art's ability to heal and express emotions, deepening their connection in this moment of shared appreciation. Within the walls of the art studio, Audrey and Natalie's friendship begins to blossom. It becomes a space where their passions intertwine, allowing them to learn more about each other and forge a stronger bond. The art around them becomes a conduit for their unspoken thoughts and feelings, fostering an environment of understanding and camaraderie.

"You're right. You’ve finally learned art well." William gave a crooked smile. "I learned from the best." They were inside a contemporary art hall on the outskirts of Paris, the venue for a charity exhibition titled “Reconstruction and Forgiveness.” The event was initiated by an international art foundation to raise funds for a floating gallery for victims of natural disasters. Evelyn had been appointed as creative director—and, surprisingly, she suggested William’s name as co-curator. Though many were shocked by their collaboration, no one could deny the visual and emotional synergy emerging from their work.

The word 'husband' still felt strange, but it was easier than explaining mating bonds to humans. "Fascinating. And permanent?" "Completely." I met her gaze steadily. "I chose it. Chose him. No regrets." She nodded approvingly. "Bold. I like bold." She gestured to my newest painting. "I'll take that one. The gold spiral piece." After she left, Skyler kissed my temple. "You're amazing. Building bridges between worlds like it's effortless." "It's not effortless. But it matters." I looked around the gallery—humans and wolves, young and old, all connected through art. "This is what I wanted. Community. Understanding. Connection."

“Motherly not, it’s my job to look out for you as an artist but it’s in my interest to see you grow and be successful as a man. You’re like family now so I have to look out for you especially now that you got that three-million-dollar deal.” We laughed off the small altercation and hugged it out. His scent triggered my hidden hormones, the grips of his hold made me feel safe and comforted; I sensed he felt the same. I jerked away apologizing. “It’s ok, the chemistry is mutual, and we just have to remember this is a business and family relationship. Can’t be or go any further.” He hugged me again this time leaning me against the wall, “If I could have it my way you would be way mor