Novel & Cerita Padme Amidala Makeup

Unfortunately, I had to shove my nerves away and prepare myself for the event, acting as if everything was perfectly fine. I listened to Amanda's suggestion and let her leave the back of my hair loose, tying up and braiding a few strands from the sides and front. The pins Amanda used glittered like diamonds, and the whole form it created shone like a tiara at the top of my head. My makeup was simpler, with my eyes emphasized by a touch of mascara, thin liner, and a light shimmering eyeshadow, and my lips painted deep red. "You look like the real queen," Amanda commented, praising her own work. "Your whole look screams ‘bite me’!" She giggled and clasped her hands.

Nate tries as much as he can to help, even Jake, whom have come around to acknowledge the baby, though they are keeping him being the father a secret from the rest of the Pack. Adira sits before her vanity mirror as the make-up artist works on her face in preparation of the marking ceremony. Her vibrant green eyes , when it encounters itself in the mirror looks dull, with no life in their depth. The make-up artist, done with his work, steps back to admire his creation. Perfect, he thinks, tilting his head back to regard the blonde intensely. Something feels off. Yes, the blonde looks beautiful, but with a smile, a spark, she looks like a robot, and make up on a robot is hardly appealing.

The boots were made of a shiny material that caught the light, making her legs seem to go on forever. Mia's exotic makeup was bold and eye-catching, with a focus on accentuating her striking features. Her eyes were lined with a thick layer of black eyeliner, making her bright brown eyes pop against the dark backdrop of her eyelids. Her eyelashes were long and luscious, coated with a thick layer of mascara that made them seem to flutter like butterfly wings. Her lips were painted a deep shade of red, a color that seemed to glow under the bright lights. Mia's black hair cascaded down her back in luscious, curly waves. The curls were tight and bouncy, framing her face and accentuating her strik

It was a beautiful shield. “Sit down, Ama. Final touches,” Ember commanded, pointing a finger at the vanity stool. I sat down obediently, my hands clenching into the fabric of the satin robe she had draped over my shoulders. Ember leaned in close, her movements turning light and precise as she picked up a blending brush to apply a final touch of light makeup to my face. She brushed a soft, rose-tinted blush across my hollow cheekbones. “Your skin looks quite pale today..” My heart leaped. “We need to go shopping to get you some quality skincare tomorrow.” She completed.

Without replying, I turn to get a better look at the dress in the mirror. It is indeed an amazing creation that seems to have been made especially for a pregnant woman. I sigh as I consider what a waste of time and money was spent on it. "The makeup artist is waiting for you. We only have half an hour left before you have to appear on the big platform," Alidya informs me as she slowly drives me toward the dressing table. Two women are waiting there with broad smiles on their faces. "My Queen, do you prefer a full makeover or just want to go mostly natural?" ask a blonde. I look at my reflection in the mirror, my face is somewhat pale despite having slept straight through the night. "Do natur

"My sweetheart, the woman behind you has been following your lovely hubby for quite some time," Amiga remarked as she applied concealer and a love bite from Remon from our most recent sex session in the Bahamas. We have known Amiga for many years, and she has worked as a make-up artist for us.

And beneath the ice, a dark shape stirs, patient, fed by the ashes of the night. The makeup is a mask. The foundation smooths everything, erases the stigmata of insomnia and tears. The neutral eyeshadow, the precise eyeliner stroke, the lipstick of a nude pink. My hair is done, each strand smoothed into a low, sophisticated and implacable chignon. Every gesture from Madame Alia is methodical, devoid of any emotion. She is creating an icon, not a bride.

“I want a matte look with a touch of smoky eyes. I hate glossy lips so I want the matte look. “Excellent choice, ma'am. I hear you are going to a banquet so you need a frontal wig to complete your makeup. I would have styled your natural hair but it won't fit this look so I'll fix you a wavy-curl 24-inch frontal wig. I'm going to style it to the side so it would cover a part of your eyes—the right eyes, to be specific. Is that fine? “Just do your thing; what is your name, please? “Pardon my manners; I didn't introduce myself properly. My name is Spicy, and I am the only makeup artist in New York who can add spice to your makeup glam. You can follow me on I*******m at @spicy_hott.

Her eyes widen, and a hand flies to her mouth. “For the love of my great-grandfather’s sword!” She rushes closer, circling me as I twirl with a laugh. “How can one look sooo fucking good?!” “You look just as amazing, Pandora.” I reply honestly as I take her in. She’s wearing a fitted sapphire-blue gown that hugs her curves before flaring slightly at the bottom. The bodice is sleek and sleeveless, with a daring open back framed by delicate crisscrossing straps. Her dark hair, now longer with the extensions, falls in smooth, glossy waves down her back, parted slightly to one side. Her makeup is bold but tasteful: winged eyeliner, soft bronzed cheeks, and a glossy pink lip that makes her smile

She returns with a huge backpack and waves Leila goodbye as she runs out of the house. Leila looks at her in awe, a child her age and size should not be able to lift a bag that heavy, Amara’s strength is a mystery she is yet to solve. “Someone’s looking glammed up,” Amanda says cheekily when Leila appears in front of the iPad. “Get out,” Leila replies, clearing Amara’s dish. “Spill….” Amanda drawls on the word, “I haven’t seen you wearing makeup since….I don’t even remember the last time I saw you wearing makeup.”