Thinner Novels & Stories

screen, in confusion I turn to see what he's looking at and there she is on the screen clinging to another girl, I looked closely at her long brown hair and big wide brown eyes, she was radiating fear "But she needn't worry" Abyss was tipping, the shock caused my heart rate to speed up and I had started sweating and that one word slipped out at the same time Acre said exactly the same thing "MATE".

She wasn't wearing her protective armor today—no heavy knit sweaters, no structured coats. She was just in an oversized, faded white t-shirt that hung loosely off one of her delicate shoulders, her dark hair falling in soft, messy waves around her face. She looked small, fragile, and utterly exhausted. Her amber-flecked eyes widened, her lips parting as she looked up at me. "Jaxson?" The sheer, visceral proximity was an immediate assault on my sanity. Being this close to her—without a desk between us, without a microphone or a crowded arena separating our skin—was total torture.

i'm not bringing you to that party I sit there afterward, phone clutched in both hands, waiting for the follow up threat, the cold, clipped warning I've come to expect whenever I push back too hard. It doesn't come. He doesn't text again that night, or the next morning, or through the entire agonizing day that follows. The silence is somehow worse than anything he could have said.

She could feeling every angle, curve and ab through the thin uniform she had on. "Like to continue with the lesson, mouse?" He breathed over her in that timbre voice that was starting to become more and more familiar than it needed to be.

Like I was at the heart of convergence. “See anything you like?’ asked Wyren “Not sure, I really do not know what I am looking at or what I want” I replied “True… well, I could get the essentials' ' she replied as she hurried off while her tail wagged. I continued to explore the city with its high rise, metallic tree-like structures that had branches which carried rounded buildings of all sorts of colors. The trees were of different sizes, some small, others large, and with mini buildings hanging from it. These trees were called Mastiers and the buildings that hung from it were called units. Each Mastier’s size represented its use and function. A shopping and housing Mastier were humongous,

"Fine. Go get changed." *** Translations: *nyash: ass. When someone says your father's nyash, its basically your father's ass they're cursing out. *Waka: Its a curse or an insult *No vex o: Don't be angry

My crowbar wasn’t sharp but with enough strength, anything could be removed. This really made them scatter. But it was too easy. They were far too slow. Too slow in shifting. Too slow in running. Just all around…too fucking slow. I kicked the last one down and put my Dock Marten’s through his skull. Blood splattered and I growled, trying to wipe it off my cheek.

“Then I expanded. I wanted to normalize things society calls ‘different.’ Like, being plus-size. I was a plus-size girl technically, and I still am. I’m not a size two or five. Those are what people call thin. Then you have your sevens, tens, twelves, and that’s ‘thick.’ Average U.S. women’s size is fourteen, and somehow that’s considered obese. I used to be way larger than that.” I pause, smiling a little. “I worked on myself, lost weight, got healthy, but not for them, but for me. For a while, I got too thin because I let society’s noise drown out my happiness. Now? I’m happy. I eat what I want, work it off if I need to. Bread is my weakness, though. That stuff sticks to these thick-ass th

“Take your skirt off. Leave the shoes.” I bit my lip and shimmied out of my skirt. He took my hand and held me steady as I stepped out of the fabric. I took in his body… what I could see of it, anyway. His chest was wider, much more muscular than when we’d first been intimate, and I ached to run my tongue over every ridge. He was also much tanner than he had been back then. Gone was the paleness of the Pacific Northwest, replaced with a golden brown that made him more beautiful.

— Poor girls, they look like a skeleton. I smiled kindly, but that's a lie. I'm not that thin, when I'm standing yes, but sitting I have my rolls. Angie is thinner, she is small from every point of view, but at fifteen she dresses much better than me, she even looks like an adult when she wants to. So her physique is not a problem for her, she is already slim by nature. "They're delicious," Angie says, chewing on a cookie. - Oh thanks. Tell me, how do you know Thomy?