Cotton Candy Hair Novels & Stories

But right now he seems to be thinking about nothing else but the journey. Or maybe he is thinking of the destination. 2. Tuesday 27th April 2010 01:32 Karen Anderson has the look of a woman in power; her hair dragged back along her head so that it looks like the skin at the hairline is ready to tear open. The hair continues back and is tied up with the use of those things that can be bought in pharmacies to keep hair in order, the name of which escapes her at the moment. The excess hair, which is never seen down but is kept for the sake of her womanhood, hangs in a ponytail down to the centre of her back.

"It's so long, and I don't think I can help myself. The fashion designer in me just wants to play with it." Her enthusiasm was cute, and it brought a laugh to my lips. She pulled out something that looked like a long, flexible tube. As she set it down beside her, she started to towel dry my hair. After a few minutes of towel drying and fighting sleep, she finally put the strange, flexible "unicorn horn" around my hair on my crown. She pulled at my wet hair, and while it hurt a bit, I was quite happy that she could style my hair. After what felt like an eternity of pulling and tugging, she had finally changed my curls into the unicorn thingy.

“You look different. What is this, Cathy?” Amelia tugs on the hair and the cap slides off my scalp. I got it really cheap. It’s a cap with hair extensions sewn into it to give the impression of real hair. It’s good for a bad hair day or bald days. Shock spreads over my best friend’s face. She uses both hands to cover her mouth and I fear I made a huge mistake by shaving off my hair. “Cathy,” she gasps out. “Ta-da!” I say. “Surprise!”

While silver is a sensitive element for werewolves, it’s Cassidy’s favourite colour as well, and Calypso had gotten it right. “I can’t believe how well we know each other!” Calypso smiled. “I can’t believe we’re matching with our bikinis! It’s almost ridiculous,” Cassidy laughed. Calypso only noticed then. “Oh goddess!” Calypso giggled. “Let’s dry our hair and see what it really looks like,” Cassidy suggested. They did just that. Calypso’s hair is waist length, while Cassidy’s only reaches halfway down her back. They blew it out and combed it out. Calypso’s hair doesn’t frizz anymore since her treatments from the salon.

I clicked my tongue while watching her. I wandered my eyes around the area and paused when I saw an old woman in front of a cotton candy machine. She had various types of cotton candy surrounding her—cats, dogs, unicorns, and even cartoon characters. She also had a bunny cotton candy on display, and it strangely reminded me of Rosalind. I looked towards her and saw that she was still in a downhearted mood, so I trudged over to the cotton candy vendor and bought the bunny-designed one.

The boys had full heads of hair, it was a pain in the ass to cut it all the time because it fell in their eyes, but it grew like weed on their heads- Kaitlyn’s didn’t, but she had the most beautiful ash-blonde color with caramel highlights that sparkled under the sun.

she whispers when I eventually move back. I lift my hands to her hair. I watched her put her hair up into a bun before we went out, and I was fascinated by this device she used, which consisted of two strips of plastic joined at either end by two hooks. She pulled her hair through the gap in the middle, turned the device over and over until the long strands were wound around it, then hooked the two ends together to form a bun. Carefully, I unhook it, then unwind her hair, which twists in crazy curls, bouncing around her shoulders as I slide the device out. Leaving it on the table, I sink my hands into her soft hair, fascinated as it curls around my fingers as if it’s grasping hold.

Crepe Paper Red smiled at me with those yellow teeth, batting those fake eyelashes that looked like two caterpillars over her eyes. "Oh, honey! Don't be silly, this one is that thing, ummm... what's it called, people... those young girls who go around with rich old men." The one with paint-black hair spoke and I kept staring - somehow her hair was the strangest, it looked like the dye job had gone wrong and it seemed like she had grease on her head and everything was smudged.

I sashayed toward him and began to dance sensually; my hands roamed over my body, through my wig, over my breasts, my stomach, my thighs, in between my legs… “I want to see your hair,” he blurted suddenly. I stilled. When I’d picked up the Candy persona, it had come with a matching bright blonde wig with pink highlights. At first, I’d lied to myself that I liked the look because it made me more attractive to the crowd, but deep down, I knew I wore it to hide. I didn’t want anyone to know who I truly was beneath the façade. “I can’t…” “Please, I want to truly see you,” he pleaded.

Too late. I grabbed a fistful of her golden hair—perfect, pampered, salon-crafted curls—and yanked her head back. She shrieked, struggling, but the chains held. “No more crowns for you,” I whispered, and with one sharp motion, I sliced clean through the thick strands near the root. The sound of the knife sawing through hair was strangely satisfying. Heavy clumps dropped to the floor. Cassidy’s eyes welled instantly, her breath catching on a sob.