Johnny Depp Black Mass Makeup Novels & Stories

It seemed Peach always had a story about fucking famous people, or at least someone in their inner circle anyway. Leo had tipped his cousin off the theme of the masquerade was dark fairytale, so Ivanna had planned her makeup according. When Amber glanced at herself in the full length mirror in her room, she legit barely recognized herself. The Spider Queen was alive and well bitches! Her eyes were in smoky shades of grey and black, her cheeks perfectly contoured to give her more definition than God had given her. Ivanna hadn’t bothered with fake lashes, as they would only interfere with her mask, but thankfully God hadn’t been stingy in that department to begin with. She already had long, th

“Men will weep.” “Hopefully not all of them,” I said. “Just one in particular.” Rowan glanced over. “Your mate better appreciate this show, because this prep is costing me more than a small car.” Silas sipped wine. “Worth it.” The makeup artist stepped in next. “We’re giving you sharp,” she said. “A look that could kill.” “Good,” I said. “I have a list.” She laughed and got to work. Brushes swept, powders swirled, liners sharpened. When she finally stepped back, my reflection hit me like a slap.

- River lies on his couch, pondering the ceiling while E Business plays on the television set—showing an ad for some random moisturizer. He checks his phone, then lays it back on his chest, not even a grimace on his face for he was too weary. A second later, the advertisement finishes and begins playing live coverage of Sebastian Black, speaking to the press outside of the Black & Co. building.

With the lid off, I then applied the substance onto her hair and massaged it in, making sure it saturated every strand and her scalp. Afterwards, I asked Cassandra to hand me a small earthen bowl with a lid, and she obeyed. After removing the lid, I saw a grey, pleasant-smelling, paste-like mixture, which I proceeded to apply to Jenna's hair as well. Having used a small towel to dry her hair, I brought my friend to the vanity table, then bandaged her chest region and commenced applying makeup. My friend needed to look good even in death. Soon, my dear Jenna was attired in a beautiful silver gown, looking like the fairy of peace with her eyes closed. If only she could open them, even for a se

“Pity I couldn’t face-fuck her we couldn’t ruin her makeup.” “Mmmnhggg… yesss Daddy… gluuuurgh… I wish I could watch you two fuck someday… gluuuuhhhk… or maybe we could both serve you together.” By now, a huge puddle of thick pussy cream had formed on the hardwood floor beneath her, mixed with her drooling saliva and snot. Her face was a complete mess ruined makeup, tears, spit, and strands of Marcus’s pubic hair stuck to her cheeks. “That’s how a young white whore like you should look… completely ruined by black cock,” Marcus growled.

He pulled out a skin safe cleansing wipe which he always carried around with him and wiped out the smudges from her face. She was naturally beautiful, sometimes he thought makeup only covered her natural beauty, but as a model it was something she could not avoid wearing. She remained still as he swept across her under eye, and realized what he was doing when she saw the black tint on it. Not only that, she also saw wet stains on his clothing. She was embarrassed beyond point right then.

She dumped a pile of products on the bed and started babbling instructions at us. "Make me look beautiful," Maddox said pouting his lips. Lena went all out, instructing us to paste product after product on the men. By the time we were finished, they were unrecognisable. Maddox laughed and giggled along with us. Blake scowled. "Do you still fancy me?" Maddox asked grabbing my waist and pulling me into his lap. He leaned forward to kiss me with sticky, glossy lips. The black painted lashes Lena helped me glue to his eyelids tickled my cheek.

Looking at her pathetic state in the mirror, Jennie could not help but hate that woman who beat her up. She first resisted the pain and washed her hair clean. After putting on some medicine, she then tidied up her hair that had almost been pulled out, putting it into a bun like a young lady. After that was her face. It was definitely not okay remaining black and blue, but Jennie was a makeup master. After a few thick layers of powder, her face was no longer black and blue. However, the swelling was still there. Jennie suddenly thought of something. Beauty could be rich as well; even the fat could be alluring and beautiful!

Dan had described to his mistress. I opened my makeup drawer and bypassed the muted roses and the soft corals he preferred. I reached for a heavy, square tube I had bought in secret, hidden beneath the velvet lining of my jewelry box. I uncapped it, revealing a shade so deep and visceral it looked like an open wound. Blood Red. I applied it with surgical precision. The pigment was thick, matte, and unapologetic. It didn’t soften my features; it sharpened them into a blade. It turned my mouth into a weapon. This wasn’t makeup; it was war paint.

Evenly spaced black lines covered their faces, arms and legs. Ever handed me a matching scrap of lambskin. With an efficiency sadly gained from years of brutal conflict and extensive losses, I quickly settled the garment around my hips and tied it securely in place. Once I was dressed, Asher stepped forward, a small pot cradled in his hands. He lifted the lid. Reaching his fingers into the pot, Ever extracted a thick black substance crafted from tree sap and ash. Settling the small pot on a nearby table, Asher followed suit, coating his fingers with the inky material. Silence weighed heavily in the air as they drew matching stripes along my cheek bones, forehead and chin before making their