Yellowface Review Novels & Stories

“Why the heck is it in this color?” “What color is it?” “Yellow, muddy yellow, dirt yellow, you get the idea. It’s the kind of color that would make your complexion look dull and make it hard for your makeup to complement it…” The older woman raised her eyes to Deirdre’s face and immediately gasped.” Bless my heart! Who on Earth did your makeup for you, honey?!” Deirdre rubbed her cheek. “Is it bad?”

And from their number strode Sunny, Anastasia and Uncle Frank. At first I was relieved. He was himself! Until he turned his head to look at me and I knew the truth. His beautiful face, so boyishly handsome, was perfect on one side, flawless as ever. The other was melted slag. His clear blue eye was yellowed, shriveled in the socket, teeth showing through a raw gap in his cheek. He reminded me of one of our family candles after a ceremony, still mostly intact except where the wax made it through. I wish I could say I held my shock and pity inside, but from the look in his eyes he saw it. And, in that moment, his expression told me he hated me for it.

Those eyes reminded her of everything brown — the coffee. Crinkles usually formed underneath and beside his eyes whenever he cackled. Those crinkles got her thinking if he was older than he looked, because, asides the crinkles, his porcelain skin always shone with youthfulness and vibrance, the kind of vibrance that radiated from a healthy teenager. " ... want some berries?" Dr Jake offered her a bowl of red berries. Rosaleen gave a soft, close-tipped smile which the young man couldn't discern if it was an approval.

Kat gave him a toothy smile. "You could write about us." She replied to him. She had to reiterate that she meant the Series, which Wild should've known. This was dumb. Dumb male brain being hyper attracted to this female. It's not like he would stop it, though. He was sure he would calm down eventually, and everything would be ok. The instincts would do their own thing anyway. "I have a question. What's your favorite color?" She smiled, a sad and bitter smile. "Yellow. It's one of the only colors I can see..." Wild's ears flicked forward. "Don't tell me you're protanopic too -" She immediately perked up. "Not fully, but yes. You are?!" Wild nodded. "Same boat as you. I can see some shades of

I look at the fishes that she was selling. I observed that her product is not fresh so since I did not liked how she talked to me earlier, I decided to bomb her with critics. "First and foremost. This fish..." I pointed at the fishes. "These are not fresh and secondly, you should find foundation that matches your skintone, you freakin' look likes yin and yang to me. I don't even know what's the story of your eyeshadow, coz gurl, they be lookin' like you have bad eyesight."

A sharp murmur broke out as a picture of a woman appeared, her face swollen and inflamed, an angry red rash spreading across her cheeks and forehead. My stomach churned. It was exactly like the woman I had encountered earlier, the one whose voice still echoed in my head. To my horror, I saw my own face on the screen alongside other affected victims. Peter cleared his throat, his voice steady but grim. “The fake product contains toxic levels of hydroquinone, steroids, and unregulated acids, as you must have been told. These ingredients are not only banned but also highly destructive to the skin. Whoever did this wanted fast results, within twenty minutes of application, users experienced seve

I felt the quiver in her voice beneath my hold as she questioned me. In answer I pulled a piece of cotton and started to clean the blood from the corner of her lips. She sucked in a breath, her eyes widening as they met mine. I didn’t know if her reaction was one of pain or to me, to our closeness. Done with her cut on the lip, I wiped the abrasions and dirt from her face and encountered smooth olive skin beneath it. I kept my face straight and didn't show anything as I took another piece of cotton and meticulously wiped all of her face. Her eyes fluttered shut as I reached her forehead than her nose. And once done, I realised my little mouse, the assistant that had been working for me was n

I yelled, tears forming between my eye lids, shaking myhead at his unresponsive figure, hopelessly and angrily I slapped him across the face in frustration, “wake up douche bag!” His head spun to the side, almost immedietly coughing up water as my eyes widened hovering over him as I brought his face towards me, his eyes barely able to open as they fluttered, squinting through the darkness. I looked down at him in surpise, studying his face, breathing heavily in untold relief and anticapation, the sharp jawline, the very light freckles on his face, “are you okay?” I whispered lowering myself just above his face. His eyes were shutting and opening as if he was trying to see but couldn’t,

Even if one would look closely, it had no resemblance whatsoever to Blame. The three of them were given one, and when they compared it to one another, they concluded that the council’s either losing their touch or Blame was behind these weird faces. Hail’s featured a round-face woman with big blotches and hook nose, Briane’s was painted with a distorted face with wide-set eyes, and Michelle’s, throwing it with a disgusted look, contained a featureless face, greenish sluggish something flowing from the thin line at its lower region.

he stepped out of the shadows, revealing his crooked smile. His eyes were a bright yellow, almost glowing against the darkness of the night. He was tall and thin, with short blonde hair and a pale complexion. I heard the growl in his voice as he spoke and knew this wasn’t going to be a friendly conversation. Two other men came out on either side of him, hands in their pockets and heads raised high. They’d been downwind of us, but now their stench invaded my nostrils like a dead fish sitting out in the sun. I pushed Hugo behind me, to which he protested. The blonde laughed, a sound that pierced my ears.