Shrinking Story Novels & Stories

She looked at me with those eleven-years-of-survival eyes. "Space," she said. "To be themselves without calculating how much of themselves is safe to show. My people have been performing smallness for so long that some of them have genuinely forgotten they were doing it." She paused. "That is the damage I am most worried about. Not the physical things. Those heal. The habit of shrinking. That is the one that takes the longest." I held her gaze and felt those words land somewhere specific and deeply familiar and for a moment I was back in the Obsidian Pack, standing smaller than I was, making myself easier to dismiss, and I remembered with perfect clarity the particular exhaustion of that per

“Then maybe that’s your answer.” Later that night, Ryan stood by his window. The streetlights blurred in the distance. His inbox pinged again a reply from L. Tansey, offering a call. He didn’t answer yet. Instead, he opened a blank page. And he typed: “A Story That Doesn’t Belong To You” by Ryan Calloway He stared at the title for a long moment. Then under it, he wrote: “This isn’t a story about revenge. It’s about reclaiming.” Two weeks later.

I began gasping for air. How could that be? I tried to breathe fire, but all that was blown away was air and smoke. Until I realized the trees were now taller than me. I panicked. Somebody was shrinking me into a small size. Who could that be? Until I heard incantations from the witches on the ground. Until I heard the loudest and strongest spell behind me. Orora was leading it. She was the one shrinking me into a pet-sized dragon. No! It couldn't be! Until I became as big as Thorin's wolf.

I took a sip on the beer that Ethan brought, Shia sat beside him. “Are you still writing?” he asks, he tried to look at my laptop but I closed it immediately before he see what I’m doing. Even Shia looked at me. “No, I’m just doing my presentation,” I answer. Shia laughed a little, so I gave her a shut-up-look that made her cough to stop herself from laughing. “She won’t let herself have a boyfriend if she’s still writing,” Shia says while she’s shaking her head. “No wonder I couldn’t find your account that you used to use to post your pieces before,” Ethan says, I nodded and forced myself to smile.

"Transferring during second year is such a weird time." "Some stuff happened at my last school, so my aunt told me to just transfer. Plus, my dad graduated here, so I thought I'd try it out too." "Did you get into a fight or something?" Crimson asked. "Please, I'm too scrawny to get into a fight. I'd instantly be knocked out." "Then can I ask what happened?" "You can't." I replied almost immediately. "I'd rather not talk about it." There was a bit of an awkward silence, but then suddenly, Scarlet looked like she lied down, but she actually fell asleep. "That scared me!" I exclaimed as I held onto my chest.

I replied and she smiled again. "No one would ever believe us or our story. That you married me forcefully. We look more romantic than the couples who have done love marriages." She said and giggled. I chuckled hearing her. She was right. No one would ever believe us. Not our future kids and grandkids. No one would believe our Stupid Love Story.

Every minute it grew, the signal getting stronger. He didn't know how to stop it anymore. He could almost sense the monsters out there in the world. Hunting for him, waiting for him to slip. Soon the power would be too strong for him to neglect, but for now....Brandon refused to let it rise to the surface. He let the energy roll off him like water when he was alone and desperately chopped and locked it down wherever another person came close to him. He ate frequently and conserved his strength. He understood that his days among the Shifters in that mansion were only growing shorter. Soon he had to move on...or people were going to die.

it was an erotic story ,titled the hot kidnapper) I raise an eyebrow, a hint of amusement in my eyes. I push off from the desk and walk closer, my heels clicking on the floor. “A story, huh? You think you can just walk in here and write a tale for me? How about you show me what you’re made of first? Tell me, what’s your fantasy? What gets you going in the dark?” I lean in, my breath warm against your ear, my large breasts pressing against your arm. (Pushing the paper to you I ask you to read it aloud ,you cheeks turn a faint red as you try to explain you brought the wrong story,I press a finger to your lips shushing you and telling you to read, you read it all)

Those simple sentences kept echoing in Emmett's mind. All at once, it felt like he had been cursed. Those words echoed in his mind so much that a sharp pain spread across his forehead. The immense pain left him devoid of any strength. With a loud thud, his phone fell and slammed onto the table. Unfortunately, Emmett had tied the candlesticks with thin threads to ensure an even distance between each. One candlestick fell, pulling on the threads and causing the others to fall over, too. Hot flames spread onto the dead leaves and feathers on the ground. It then traveled toward the wooden dominoes.

"There's more, too. Apparently, the best friend's family is broke, and the harpist paid for all four years of her college tuition. Talk about nursing a viper." International viewers were just as shocked. Even my new friend, Alice Whitfield, was so upset she stress-ate three plates of buffalo wings. "Ivy, your life has been a disaster. "But don't worry. I would never betray you. Not only would I never betray you, but I'm going to set you up with my brother." I shook my head. "I can't. I promised my grandparents I'd move back home eventually." They raised me close, and settling down this far away would only worry them.