Millie Bobby Brown Aesthetic Novels & Stories

From kindergarten sandbox days to those cringe middle school dances to high school, Millie’s always been there. It’s wild to think of all the stuff we’ve been through together, all the different versions of ourselves we’ve watched each other become. If I had to describe her? She’s my shield. Sure, I could go on about how she’s absolutely gorgeous—short, messy brown hair, those intense green eyes, a dusting of freckles across her nose that somehow makes her look both tough and innocent at once. Oh, and she’s tall, with these long legs that make me feel like a hobbit standing next to her. Yeah, I’m definitely jealous sometimes. She’s cool, too, like ice queen cool.

If he had also asked me to sell him my lifelong recipe, I'm not sure that I would have turned down the offer, but then again, As Milo had so crudely put it, I hadn't been laid in a while. My best friend Milossa, I am not just saying this because I am biased, is gorgeous. She has caramel hair that she cut into a straight bob, her left eye is pink, and the other is the deepest shade of blue that I had ever known existed. Naturally, she was bullied as a child for this. But, I have never seen her back away from a fight. So, I am adding that quality to her beauty. "Annabelle, let me get you laid!" She said then took a swig of her beer. "Give me your permission, and I will be your fairy fuck mothe

Our friends didn't believe it, but somehow their looks were never threatening and never made me feel inferior, probably because they thought Moby was the one who out-punted his coverage, but this girl clearly thinks Moby's too good for me. I'm the first to admit Moby is beautiful, and I'm rather plain, at least on the outside. I grew up in the mountains; people just didn't care about fashion or looking like runway models. They were too busy skiing, snowmobiling, mountain climbing, rock climbing, or any other outdoor activity that having your hair and makeup done for was simply ridiculous. I didn't grow up in an environment where anyone put any stock in appearance. I'm not ugly; I'm just not

She asks, insulted, "Because I think it is." "Moe's smells like an old oil swamp. And I love it, but maybe we could go somewhere else... tomorrow? Once those annoying girls are gone?" I ask, giving her a quick look. Bobbie blinks and gives me a confused look, "We're getting older, we have to be sophisticated. So we should like, dress up and all. Fancy stuff." "Okay..." she drags the word, "But wouldn't it feel like a d—"

My favorite color. “So… What do you think?”. Millie asks excitedly. I hate to burst her bubble. But, I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t. “Well.. I think it’s a dress”. I deadpan, giving her an uninterested look. “Oh, Jesus. Come on, Ath! It doesn’t show any skin at all. You can’t see your stunning figure. Please, do us this favor”. She pouts once again, throwing in the puppy dog eyes. “Don’t do that”.

But that did not stop me from admiring her. She had a perfect barbie figure. Her waist was tapered. A pair of eyebrows looked down on sweeping eyelashes. Her delicate ears framed a button nose. Her light brown hair was long enough to kiss her waist. Her makeup was not that extravagant which was matching with her pale skin. Her natural pink sweet lips seem lilac soft. She was looking so gorgeous and naive. The thought of her being this stylish and fashionable never came in my mind. Baggy clothes were always worn by her and for that reason her body was never well scanned.

It alone set her apart from the people bathed in an aura of perfection. I needed new faces, models who could really catch the eye of my elite clients. I'd got too thin, generic girls, nothing that screamed luxury, nothing which would make any to sit up and take notice. But Millie? She was exactly what I needed. That 'it' factor, indefinable and unable to be trained or bought, sat there in her. I could already picture her doing some of those more out-of-there shoots in my head; these were precisely the types that would set my agency worlds ahead of the competition.

As she sat outside Moore Designs waiting for her client to come out and join her, she typed away on her laptop on the bench, muttering more than once, “I’m losing my mind.” “Sorry, that took so long!” Bonnie looked up to find thirty-something Lauren Moore smiling, her red hair all wild, wavy, and fabulous. Her outfit was to die for, one of her creations. She had a funky hipness to her clothing style that didn’t lack elegance. It was what a hipster would wear when they grew up a little and decided to wash their hair. Closing her laptop, Bonnie rose to give a hug. “You look so cool.” “Me? Look at you!” Lauren motioned to Bonnie’s burgundy wrap dress and brown boots. “I love this!”

Brielle groaned, loosening off a bit before finally tying it off into a big bow. I turned to Brielle, the beta female's eyes scrutinizing me carefully. A small smile was let loose on her lips. "You look beautiful," Brielle said with a thoughtful smile. I turned to look at myself in the tall ginormous mirror and I couldn't help but agree with her. I looked so beautiful, yet so alien. My curly brown hair was beautifully styled, allowed to fall neatly onto both sides of my shoulders. My blue eyes were bright and vibrant, complementing my flawless skin.

The maids chorused as they lined up into a single file and slightly bowed their heads. Alex shook his head in response before his eyes caught on his mum, Mrs Brown, a woman in her late forties. She looked young and attractive with her glittering soft skin. No sign of a slight wrinkle on her face. In short, she was an epitome of beauty and a well-respected public figure in the society. She was elegantly dressed in a well-tailored blue suit and a short Mini skirt, her pink high heels were making a tick-tock sound on the 3d floor that was designed as if an aquarium was underneath them.