Friend Aesthetic Novels & Stories

Her studio was in the back, past the display cases and the workbench, through a door that led to a room filled with light and tools and the quiet hum of something being made. She asked him questions. Not about budget first. About the person. "What does he like? How does he move through the world? What's his relationship to objects? Does he wear his watch on his left or right wrist?" Alexander answered all of them. Elijah had described his aesthetic precisely enough over two years of ordinary conversation that Alexander had an exact model: the watch on the left wrist, his father's, scratched and cheap and irreplaceable. The single quiet line drawn at the stylist's attempt to remove it. The th

I brush it away, fingertips skimming warm skin, and my stomach knots when I catch the faint shimmer of dried tears. Why was she crying again? Was it because of me? The thought feels like a punch under the ribs. My heart cringes. This girl is extraordinarily beautiful, naturally ― not like all those superficial bitches that surround me all the time. She’s beautiful in that rare, infuriating way — not because she tries, but because she doesn’t. No fake lashes, no overdrawn lips, no designer filters. Just Aria — real … original … fresh … unique … unforgettable. Shit.

"Would you, Adrian? That would be a weight off my mind. I know you have a sharp eye for detail. I’d trust your judgment over any stylist." "I'd be happy to assist," Adrian said, his gaze finally sliding to mine. There was a terrifying glint in his eyes—a mixture of possessiveness and a new, dark ambition. "I’ll help her find something that... fits her perfectly. Something that reveals exactly who she is." I looked down at my plate, my heart beginning to hammer against my ribs. My father thought he was gifting me a fairytale, a day of pampering and silk. But as I felt Adrian’s foot find mine under the table—a slow, firm press of his leather shoe against my bare skin—I knew the fitting wouldn'

Loyalty and dedication are also important traits. Trying to maintain her composure, Alessia pressed on, ‘And what about appearance? Do you have a preference for tall, petite, blond, brunette, etc.?’ ‘Appearances are fleeting, and beauty is only skin deep, especially with the prevalence of plastic surgeons and cosmetics nowadays. I’ve seen my fair share of beautiful women...’ Then his response took a surprising turn. ‘But if you have to know, I prefer someone about 5 foot 5, petite, with brown eyes and dark hair that falls below her shoulders…’

I carefully arranged my books on the desk. The teacher, Ms. Reeves, wasn't old, and she wasn't young either. I didn't know her, but you could tell from the way she looks and dresses. Her beauty wasnt loud not artificial either, her skin soft and warm bronze glow. She had style that was not flashy or trendy but timeless. She wore a blouse that was navy and a gold pendant with black pants that fitted her perfectly, exposing a little of her body shape. Ms. Reeves had a presence. An aura that you don't just notice but also feel.

The warm smile on her face was simple and pure. Little Apple was used to coming to the shade every day and seeing her every day. The girl was not so beautiful, and she seemed to be a lot less beautiful than the women at home. However, Little Apple had seen too many beautiful women since he was a child, so he really had no feelings for her appearance. His mom and his sister as well as his senior sister Alice were all beauties. And the women who occasionally appeared at home were all impeccable. Since he had seen too many beautiful women, he would inevitably feel aesthetic fatigue. So, Little Apple were not picky about whether the women were beautiful or not, as long as they were pleasing to t

Paul Henry glanced around at her. "I don't feel that I'm too ugly, but I also don't feel that I'm so beautiful that people have to experiment with my body." Fiona sat cross-legged on the sofa, holding a mask over her face. "Everyone's aesthetic is different, what if someone blind thinks you're beautiful?" Paul Henry looked at the black mask on her face, furrowed his brows, and the girl's clothes were strange. Fiona's hand that was smoothing the mask stopped, and the corner of her eyes glanced over, why does hearing this feel so wrong? Not complimenting her, but on the contrary, as if criticizing her.

Additionally, Jasmine gave off an ominous vibe, which scared Sally. Charlene held Jasmine and said softly, "I know you think you're cool, and that's great, Minnie. However, one's perception of beauty is subjective. While some people favor sweetness and softness, others may like a ferocious, tomboyish appeal. Because someone's taste is different from yours, you cannot offend them. Please, let's respect each person's aesthetics and tastes. Charlene was aware of her daughter's extraordinary intelligence. For Jasmine, things that may be confusing to other kids were simple. Jasmine comprehended. Although she was aware that her actions were inappropriate, she couldn't stand to see Charlene show af

The messages dated all the way back to Friday night when I'd put my phone on silent to not be disturbed at the weekly barbecue. Snobby socialist, Jasmine Drake- who thinks we're a couple- has been pestering my life for months, wanting us to become 'lovers'. I would've taken the offer if her face, boobs and butt weren't surgically enhanced, and I wasn't allergic to her attitude and personality. I love my women natural; curves, breasts, butt and facial features. I'd always felt that plastic surgery basically entailed using products of this world to make oneself beautiful; things that are made by human beings. Beauty was made my God. Nothing can beat that. There's nothing natural about cosmetic

Iniingatan ko talagang hindi masira ang hitsura nito at pinagiisipan ko ang bawat posts ko. Ah, aestheticism! I live for it, religiously. And I am forever grateful cause I have all the privilege to be able to live this life. Nakangiti kong muling pinasadahan ng tingin ang sarili mula sa floor to ceiling na salamin. Nang mapansin ko ang isang pirasong buhok na nakatikwas ay hinuli ko iyon at inis na binunot. Mahina akong napaigik. Well, it’s called tiis ganda. In order to achieve something, a sacrifice is needed.