Shameless Aesthetics Novelas e Histórias

The quirky glances I was receiving from the other people were telling me I did not belong here. And I shall never try to. Those tall bodies and small figures were ravished with the epitome of desires. Wearing the most expensive brand new collection of Goddamn fashion designers. And here I am looking like a silly schoolgirl with empty pockets and hands. "Follow me," his cult voice made me alive again and face the reality that I do not want to judge or intend to judge. Following the hem of my shirt, I took tiny steps afraid of all the sceptical glances at me.

She succeeded in releasing Shayla’s hair from Annalise’s grip. “But she said Ahaz is here!” “Why don’t you just choose Ahaz?” and she was so full of herself that Ahaz was going to choose her only. She knew she was the most beautiful but she never admitted the large amount of make-up and surgeries behind her beautiful and flawless face. “You’re right!” Brooklyn nodded and so did others. Ashley’s friends were just like her. All were egoistic and believed that they were the most beautiful. In this matter, nobody could get nervous about their beauty and could sleep peacefully with no tension.

She noticed his amber eyes go from her to the plate in front of him with a quick darting flick. She wasn't sure why but his expression made her feel ashamed of herself. In the two weeks that she and Kendrick had lived together she had found it difficult to not shy away from the giant whenever he came close; like a cat that wasn't sure if it liked people or not. She felt guilty for treating him in such a way since it was plainly obvious that he was trying very hard to make her comfortable and not cause her any unneeded stress. It only made her feel worse when that sad frustrated expression would briefly flicker across his face when she'd flinch or startle. He might've thought he hid it behind

Sweet Jesus help me through this night please and I promise to always go to church. "Wow Samantha,I have never seen a women as beautiful as you without her face plastered with makeup." His eyes still scanning me in appreciate. Yes I was wearing no makeup except from a mascara and lip gloss. "Thanks." I said shyly looking to the ground unable to meet those beautiful pairs of eyes he was blessed with.

"I'll have the same." He nods and walks away. "How foolish," he said staring coldly at me, "you couldn't even order for yourself, how useless are you?" Useless? Did this bastard just call me useless? I force smiled "please forgive me, this is my first in such a place so I tend to act strange," you damn bastard I'll get you for calling me useless." I should just call out that you are gay in public. Our food came, and I took a beat, and to my surprise, it was like heaven in my mouth.

“God forbid minimalism be affordable.” Nicole gave a small laugh as she scrolled through something on her iPad. “Meanwhile, I had to convince a luxury skincare brand today that launching a ‘gritty street-style’ campaign with models in couture was not... the vibe.” Liv made a face. "What does that even mean?" “Exactly,” Nicole said. “I think they just throw buzzwords into a blender and hope for the best.” I smiled quietly, watching them talk. I didn’t say much at first; I just listened. It had been a while since we were all on a call like this together, and something about the rhythm of it—the unfiltered chaos of our lives overlapping again—felt like breathing fresh air.

It didn't escape her notice that he sneaked a glance at Amanda when she entered the room, even though he pretended otherwise the very next second. Though Ava considered her vulgar and terribly unsophisticated with her tasteless, ostentatious attire, she couldn't deny that Amanda Chapman was generously endowed with a seductive charm and a lush body that was sure to make men turn their head towards her. There was no way she could compete with her blatant sensuality.

Expensive and nothing like the girl she was. She wasn't disappointed by who she saw, it just wasn't her. Groomed into glamourous, and almost noble, reeking of wealth. It seemed fake and shallow of her to get any enjoyment out of looking like she had stepped out from a palace, and she began to undo it all very carefully. It felt like a mask, one to cover the stench of her own shame, shielding her complete loss of any pride.

"But I would like something different." She looked at me. The eyebrows were at attention. "I don't want minimising," I said. "I don't want anything that draws the eye away or creates an illusion or apologises for anything." I looked at my reflection. "I want something that fits the body I have exactly as it is. Something that looks like it was made for this specific person and would not look right on anyone else." I paused. "Something that when I walk into that gala in two weeks makes the room understand that I arrived on purpose."

"Are your legs intending to maintain that grounded posture for the remainder of the calendar date, or does your internal soul fail to calculate that your brand has already generated enough public embarrassment?" Lulu’s ocular sensors rapidly scanned the environment, only to discover a massive, dense wall of mechanics and paddock personnel recording her chaotic failure of decorum. She violently scrambled back up onto her feet, her facial symmetry completely breaking down. "The shame parameters are scaling entirely too high. My internal mind genuinely desires to purchase a solid block of bean curd to violently smash my own forehead against it until my baseline life metrics hit absolute zero."