Egyptian Long Tribal Braids の小説・ストーリー

My hair was braided with the petals of baby’s breath and had colorful feathers as my headdress. Mom and Aunt Mia took one of their earrings and made me wear it. I held back not to tear up, as the simple yet elegant make-up would be damaged. That would lead to Miley’s endless make-up lessons. The final piece for my outfit is the belt, woven from sturdy fibers. Its buckle is fashioned from a polished piece of bone carved with ancient symbols of protection. According to Aunt Mia, this belt is passed on from one Luna to another. They all carefully pulled me to one side and let me see myself in a full body mirror. My jaw dropped, not recognizing my own reflection. How could someone this pretty an

“Umm-hmm. Same o’ Ian Gallagher.” Her hair’s longer than when I last saw her—when she and her brother, Big Easy, took over the Gulf Coast pack. It’s styled in thin braids she’s bleached a soft white which only accents her olive-toned complexion. They hang to well below her exposed tattooed waist, and as always, are bedecked with strange feathers, pierced medallions, crystal beads and a few random animal teeth or talons, I can’t tell which.

One woman beckoned me over, having me sit in front of her. “Such luscious curls. I bet Alpha Creed loves to pour his claws into them.” I laughed, “yes, he does, he just doesn’t understand how to use a brush on them, otherwise I look like a giant fuzzball.” The women all murmured in agreement, only to brush my hair with their fingers. Another girl came to me, asking for permission to give me a traditional hair braiding. Taking my curly hair, they weaved the fibers together. Several small braids were intertwined with the larger one that fell down my back. I felt like a princess, having my hair not only braided but decorated with small flowers the children continued to bring.

It looks incredible with her dark auburn hair. Once these six small plaits, which are called Goddess braids according to Charlie, are done Charlie undoes the bun on the top of her head and starts working on a bigger braid, it’s still complicated looking. She divides the hair into two sections and begins weaving them together taking about half of the hair from the outside of the right section and crossing it over to the left section, placing it on the inside of the left section of hair. And repeating to the other side.

“Gladiole, start on her makeup. Buttercup, start unbuttoning the dresses, and laying out the crowns. You still can’t wear earrings. I promised Mother not until you are seventeen.” They barely grumble as they start getting everything ready. I scrape my comb through her hair, gathering it in three sections. I pulled her hair taut, and twisted the strands together, forming a long braid that I proceeded to pin around her head. I planned on doing all of the triplet’s hair the same way, crowning them with a braid.

Mom was so busy with work, I won't say I wasn't happy she was, but her presence matters a lot, sometimes, we had days when we braided hair, it was like a tradition, and having a 4c natural hair means war and pain without proper management. And that's more than enough reason to keep my hair braided for a long time, and after so much detangling, washing, and tying tight buns, I couldn't take the pain of combing, so I confronted mom about it, weird enough when she was in the middle of a conversation with a client.

Thank God there were no traffic cops in Bridger National Forest at least! As she walked into Valley Market, cart at the ready, she noticed a striking young woman in the produce section. She had long blonde hair sporting the most intricate braids Liv had ever seen, as well as silver and leather jewelry surrounding her neck and both wrists. A beautiful, swirling black tattoo ringed one lean, toned bicep. She looked like some modern-day Viking shield maiden. Liv was fascinated. She'd always loved Viking stories though she didn't know that much about actual Norse legends. Just as she was about to go over and ask her where she had gotten the braids done, a huge man stalked up to the woman aggress

I plait mine up in five three strand braids. I have never thought about this before, but as I watch Sven do his in a single five-strand braid, I wonder if this is how my mother’s people do their hair. Tying each braid off at the crown of my head, I let the rest of my hair hang loose. Rubbing the back of my head, I feel the prickles of the short hair letting me know I will need to shave the sides and back again soon.

Traitors! Urshia did as she was told, unbraiding the two braids and poured the lukewarm water. Another thing Suhayr is always confident with is, her hair. Yes, everyone around Chad has long dark hair that reaches below their waist like Indians or sometimes even more but hers is way too soft for you to thread your hands in without pins just like Tasneem had done earlier. She doesn't braid her hair, it's just waste of time and that person will only struggle to get them in place.

She looked utterly angelic, as if she didn’t belong in this gritty, ruthless world. Her long blonde hair cascaded down her back in soft waves, gleaming under the warm lights like strands of silk. It looked rich, healthy, and painfully touchable. She always wore it down around him. I never understood why—maybe because he liked it that way. But my favorite was when she wore it in those tight Dutch braids, braided parallel across her head, framing her heart-shaped face with a strength and grace only she could pull off.