Funny Aesthetics Novels & Stories

While some bold ones were actually sleeping. Rabbit, however, looked one blink away from collapsing face-first onto his desk. Noah’s eyes narrowed slightly. “…and Wilde uses aestheticism not merely as philosophy,” he continued evenly, voice smooth as he resumed pacing slowly across the front of the room, “but as a shield. Dorian’s obsession with beauty becomes an excuse to separate himself from consequence.” Rabbit’s head dipped again. This time lower. A strand of white hair slipped across his face as he blinked heavily. His pink eyes were surrounded by a sea of pale red.

she laughs "like they say these days faking it in style." I give her a confused look "what?" "You know, when you're in a fake relationship, these days that's what everyone's doing." "Well, I'm only doing this for mom, and trust me I will not develop falling for him." "My dear friend, you're saying that now, but when the time comes you'll be dying for his touch, his kiss, his scent, his di- ah" I shot her with Levi's water gun. That damn dirty mouth girl. "Charlotte you bitch," she curses, ask I continue to shot her.

"I don't like to repeat my words " . . So how's is it? Do you guys want me to use aesthetics? Do press the like button as it will help me a lot. ​​​​​

Impatiently, he kicked the hospital bed and snapped, "Stop pretending. It's just a little anesthetic. Do you need to sleep for so long? Get up. I made you get cosmetic surgery for your own good. Don't act like it's such a huge grievance." Of course, I couldn't answer him. I was dead. Livid, James lifted the sheet and kicked me off the bed and to the ground. "Stop playing dead! Have you learned your lesson or not?" The sheet covering me fell to the ground as well, revealing my ashen face. It wasn't a complexion that a living human could have. I hadn't had the chance to heal after the cosmetic surgery, so my face was still swollen and ruddy. James frowned when he saw me. "You're still so ugly.

He was exasperated by Lucian's taste as a stereotypical man. Children from the upper echelons of society were taught to pay attention to aesthetics. They go to art exhibitions or participate in other activities that cultivate their appreciation for aesthetics at least once a month. But, even that was not enough to improve Lucian's aesthetic sense. There was no hope for him. The pink diamond sparkled. However, aside from its cost, it had few merits. It wasn't something that could be worn out. In the eyes of those unfamiliar with the goods, it was merely a piece of colored glass. Meanwhile, the connoisseurs would find it tacky. Who would wear a ring that could cover three fingers?

He finally introduced me to Selene, she seemed a bit standoffish each time we were together but she didn't go out of her way to be rude to me. She looked like Jordan Alexander from Gossip Girl 2.0, the shitty new season that was very cringe, regardless of this I still managed to watch it all. "It must be nice to travel so much whilst some of us are working shitty jobs every day," I said after she finished a story about their recent trip to France. Fuck. I looked at Grayson to see if he was thinking about the fact that I still do porn, but his face didn't betray any emotions. We were still to discuss that shit that he said about me doing porn.

“I am a function of aesthetic efficiency. Your territory has become a noisy subplot. I am here to quiet it down. To make it… readable.” It gestured with its stylus. From its book, a beam of flat, white light shot out and touched our cottage wall. Where it touched, the texture of the wood—the grain, the knots, the subtle variations in color—smoothed out into a featureless, beige plane. It wasn't erased; it was genericized. This was the worst invasion yet. They weren't trying to destroy or control. They were trying to make us boring. “Over my dead, highly specific body,” I snarled, lightning crackling at my fingertips.

"I wrote this. I used the pencil. This was supposed to be real!" The little girl with the blue balloon giggled. The sound was like silver bells, but it made my skin crawl. She skipped through the chocolate-mud, her white dress staying perfectly clean. "The Shareholders love 'Realism,' Kaima," she said, popping a small chocolate bubble with her toe. "But they don't like the *uncomfortable* parts of realism. They want the 'Aesthetic' of struggle, but with the comfort of a dessert. It's called 'Gourmet Survival.' It's trending on the Lunar Colonies right now."

I shook my head politely, "I'm alright thanks." "Okay then, how are you settling into the work environment? Hope there haven't been complications?" She asked and I shook my head. "Actually, the past couple of days have been nice and welcoming," I said making her chuckle. "Well our model's comfort is our number one priority here, we believe that true beauty comes from within and that can only be attained when a person is comfortable, happy, and confident," She said. "Well, you guys are sticking to that," I said. "So the designs, how do you like them?" She asked. "Well they're beautiful, each of them has this vintage aesthetic almost ancient but a little bit modernized," I said in admiration.

Fuck. Cars. And fuck more. It was supposed to be the motto of my life. A cheesy slogan people go by nowadays. What do they call it? Yes. Aesthetic. My aesthetic was supposed to be a carefree playboy—fucking everything walking. Fuck. I was well aware and needlessly proud of my looks. I’d fuck myself too if I could.