The Outsiders Aesthetic Novels & Stories

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

On one page, I saw a boy gazing at a river, his face reflecting deep sorrow. Eventually, Ace paused at a drawing of a woman with her back turned, her hair styled in an updo. What struck me was the attention to detail – the way the light highlighted her hair, which stood out against the shaded parts of the drawing. I realized her hairstyle was unique in this town, where brown and black hair were the norm. She wore an edgy outfit, complete with a leather jacket and a skirt, reminiscent of my punk-inspired style.

The look she gave me was all the confirmation I needed. In her eyes, I had underdressed again. I had always been the black sheep of the family when it comes to being aesthetic. While Rissa was tall, slender, and possessed the effortless grace of a model—despite her actual career as a success banker—I was built differently. I had a chubby, soft figure that I spent most of my life trying to bury under oversized flannels and baggy tees. I didn't like being flashy. I didn't like the way people stared when skin was involved.

Achieving the attention they wanted, the lightning became clearer as natural lighting is introduced, revealing their theme clothing in cyberpunk aesthetic with a dash of horror. The audience was astounded and had their eyes widened. Not everyone could model the cyberpunk aesthetic clothing to its full potential, especially when it was being done by novices. They were on the edges of their seats watching out for the slightest flaws. It was as though their stares were able to penetrate souls.

After everything I’d been through, I no longer gave a shit. As we followed the waitress around the restaurant’s perimeter, Ophois placed a hand on the small of my back. “Sometimes, beauty can be a burden.” “What do you mean?” “People are so dazzled by exteriors that they fail to see what’s inside.” He rubbed his fingers over his beard, making me wonder if it was coarse or soft. “Look around you. They’re all like the woman who works for Hades. She drifted to me out of a lust for power, and she wouldn’t stop staring.”

Sitting next to the driver, serious and serious as always, Adrian would certainly become the attraction of the night, as he would leave the other guys in the dust. There was no other man in that school, or in that town, whose beauty could compare to his. The guy was a tyrant, cruel and heartless, but he knew how to be handsome and charming. He wore a beet-colored silk shirt, with long sleeves rolled up to his elbows, the hem of which was casually thrown over the waistband of his faded jeans. It was the first time I had seen him in jeans, with his short hair slightly messy, without leaving anything to be desired by boys my age. On the contrary, he managed to be incredibly more attractive, mor

Her quiet appearance was very beautiful. She was dressed in a more rustic, conservative manner, and did not reveal her true colors. However, she had a unique kind of beauty. She didn't look like the beautiful women around him. Whenever they appeared, they would always have the smell of synthetic perfume. Yoseph really didn't like it. No matter how little they wore and how much they exposed themselves, he didn't like it when they looked at him. He only felt that the stubbornness in the bones of this girl who had lowered her head and seriously peeled an apple for him was the most suitable for her taste.

With his intriguing blue-grey eyes, disheveled black hair that screamed sex, a brilliant pearly smile, and that figure, Ethan resembled one of the flawlessly sculpted Greek gods you only saw in museums rather than a human being. No one would be be innocent or nice if everyone looked like Ethan Ricci. As much as I hate to admit it, that boy looked nice. It’s just every else that turns me off. The endless amount of girls he sleeps with, the way he wears his clothes make him look like a cheap douche, and is icky enough to flirt with me.

Unfortunately, Jaxon Kane was standing on the other side looking like a luxury advertisement with anger issues. The suit should have been illegal. That was the first thought that came to me. It was dark charcoal, perfectly cut, fitting his broad shoulders like it had been sewn by someone who understood danger as an aesthetic. His hair was styled but not too styled and his jaw looked freshly shaved. He smelled faintly expensive. Clean. Sharp. Annoying. His eyes moved over me once. Slowly. It was not in a way that made me feel small but in a way that made me feel seen.