Roast For Tall People Novels & Stories

Aryana Joy Santini's POV He was the tallest of the three, at least 6’ 3” with brown hair and a short, well-trimmed beard… His upper body seemed to be suffocating in that tight, blue shirt. It was tight around the arms and across the chest. Perhaps Craig should have considered a bigger size when he bought that one, but it wasn’t like I was going to complain about the view. Nor about those dark green eyes that sometimes seemed to look right through you.

Why is no one paying attention to what is going on? "MINE," a voice yells across the diner. “Mine,” the voice rasps. What in the world is happening? Who are these people? Are they fighting over some belongings or something? The whole situation feels off. My mind races, and a heavy weight seems to press down on my shoulders. I’m about to retrieve my steps and get the hell out of there, but there is a presence of someone behind me. I turn my head and I look at the most prominent man I have ever seen. He is well over 7 feet tall. He must be in his late forties or early fifties because he has gray hair, and his entire presence seems to demand your attention.

I had no chance of denying since I knew what she was going to do. I simply agreed and headed out to the kitchen. I put on a white apron and started making tea. Mrs Smith and William were watching gameplay videos on the TV. I took out the kettle and started searching for tea powder and some sugar. And there they were, at the top compartment of the kitchen. I was just around 5.7 feet tall. How was I going to reach it? I stood on my heels and tried to reach the compartment. But bad luck, I was still not tall enough.

The hot coffee smell hits my nose and I think I'm already satisfied. "What will you like to have" The barista that appears to be a highschool student smiles at me sweetly, revealing his perfect dentition. Oh no! I forgot to brush my teeth. "I'll have two skinny cappuccino to go please" "Tall or grande" he leans on the counter still smiling. Please don't do this right now, in your front is an angry girl that just had the worst morning and is ready to explode at any slight provocation. "Tall"

But the room is cheap, so I scraped by with everything to make the room inhabitable. Before inviting them to sit, I pushed any comic books and magazines that were scattered on the floor onto the side and gave the two of them a zabuton, a small pillow used as a sitting place. Surprisingly, the two of them also knew how to sit properly on a zabuton, which again raised my sense of respect for them. Though, I had to work a bit harder just to host two massive people which I guessed their height at about 6.4 foot to 7.1 foot. If these two people were to step on the 5.1 foot me, I think I’d probably die.

I didn’t even know a man like him existed… He's human, too. I swallowed hard and looked at the man beside me again. My eyes roamed over his body. He’s really big—probably around 7 feet tall. His muscles were bulging, his frame bulky even under his shirt and leather jacket. His ripped jeans clung to his legs, and he wore black motorcycle boots on his long feet. I swallowed again and ordered another drink.

Broot lit the cigar with a snap of his fingers. Auger came to the door and Broot threw the newspaper at his face and stood up, "Find out who's this Kranky and bring the two bozos over to me for questioning." Auger bowed his head, screeched "Victory to Broot", and disappeared. "Mordant wouldn't like it! Not one bit!" He mumbled. He was almost four feet tall, giant by dwarf standards and muscular, with a body that looked sculpted out of stone. Kritter drummed his fingers on the desk as he watched Broot pacing up and down the room, puffing at the little cigar emanating a green smoke that smelled like burnt rubber.

Outside, Warren Hewitt from the neighborhood association looked flustered as he tried to stop a spirited old man in his 60s. "Mr. Fletcher, please, let's talk calmly. Don't do this. Ms. Lawson is a good person—" The man called Mr. Fletcher shoved Mr. Hewitt aside and thrust a phone in front of my face. "A good person? Mr. Hewitt, don't let her fool you. See for yourself!" On the phone screen, a short video was playing. The footage was shaky and shot at the kitchen's serving window. On the tray was a plate piled with braised pork ribs, collard greens, mashed potatoes, a bowl of bean soup, and some grains.

Bryan crosses his arms so that his muscles bulge at his shirt… a way to show off, to maybe intimidate Jasper…. However, this doesn't work because Jasper also stands up, leaning one hand on the table, proving himself to be at least eight inches (20cms) taller than Bryan. His astonishing height of almost 6'3 feet (2 m) isn't the only thing that makes him stand out, but his broad back and arms are much bigger and stronger than Bryan's.

He opened the door, stared up at the tub of mint chocolate chip sitting smugly on the top shelf, and immediately realized the problem. No stepping stool in sight. He sighed dramatically.“I need help getting something.” Yo Han appeared behind him almost instantly, peering over his shoulder. “Why can’t you get it yourself?” Li Han turned just enough to give him the flattest, most unimpressed glare he could manage. “Because you’re humongously tall.” “Or maybe,” Yo Sun drawled, suddenly appearing on Li Han’s other side, “you’re incredibly short.” “I’m not short.” Li Han lifted his chin. For a beta he was actually tall—173 cm, thank you very much. Most betas hovered between 165 and 170. He’d bare