Jarhead Buzz Cut Novels & Stories

His clothes, his accessories, and even his hair were all Zeke's style. Evan had enough of that. He gave the money back, and they were estranged. Now, he wanted to be himself. "Give me a buzzcut!" demanded Evan, and something radiated around him. The barber was shocked, and he quickly trimmed Evan's hair. … With every move, more of Evan's hair fell. Freshness welled within his heart. It wasn’t just hair he was cutting off; it was the chains of the past. He was killing the fetters that kept him locked. He could feel the collar around his neck fading away.

Jude refused Linda wanting to help her fighting Williams. "All done! just need to straighten it and sorry about the phone. its just my kids are almost home. i won't be at ease unless they are inside the house" Linda said after looking at her phone. "its fine no worries" Jude replied Soon Linda was done and told Jude to look at the final results "Which cutting is this?" Jude asked "Feather cutting" Jude's long hair were now very very short but they looked really good. Suddenly Jude phones started ringing. Smiling at the caller id she looked at Linda and said " I am very satisfied with the results"

“Now I know why you were so eager to come to the beach this morning.” Radar goes all innocent on me. “Why, whatever do you mean, Leah?” Radar’s words are directed at me, but her eyes remain fastened on the young Marine. His name is Jordan, but we call him Jordy. We gave him the nickname when he was much younger and smaller. He doesn’t look like a Jordy anymore—not by a long shot—but the name has stuck. He’s barely sixteen years old now, but already stands six feet tall. His camouflage uniform does little to hide the swell of his chest or the width of his biceps. He has black hair cut short in the Marine fashion, a tan complexion, and blue eyes that seem to shine from his tanned face.

I've already started having nightmares about it but I hope I bag the medal on this one though. I had my air pods on as I let the stylus do their works on my hair and after an hour, they tapped me to look at my reflection. I actually had my reservations about the hair cut but duty calls. I had a pixie cut, dyed it blood red and added a bit of purple highlights with two new piercings but as I looked I'm the mirror, I actually loved the look. The piercings really accentuated my look and I really began to admire my face, turning side to side, deciding that both sides were my good side and really loving the new mysterious look it gave me.

He toweled off roughly, then stalked back into the bedroom to get dressed. As usual, he put off donning the final article of clothing for as long as possible. As always, he shrugged it on in the end, since he had zero choice in the matter. He regarded his cut in the mirror with nothing but distaste. It was stunning, he supposed, with its expensive leather and red, white and blue background, and the red and black ‘1%’ patch on the shoulders. Even the club insignia – a skeleton with angel’s wings, stretched across its entire upper back, mirroring the tattoo it now hid – was arresting, eye-catching, breathtaking. Put all those elements together and you had a piece of art, and as much as he hate

Her waist-length hair made her look older and served as a shield, but the decision was hers. Berezira thought for a moment, remembering both the comfort and pain associated with her long hair. "I'd like it cut a bit, maybe just past my chest," she replied. Jerald agreed. "That's fine. First, we'll go grocery shopping," he said, rising from his chair. As he did, dizziness overcame him, and he groaned, clutching his side in pain. It was the source of constant agony. "Are you alright, Goo...Father?" Berezira rushed to his side.

with that I stalked off. This was a sign, I needed to get out of here, and fast too. I could waylay someone and take their phone, but that would be too obvious, I just went to my room and changed into the most casual outfit I could find, which was a white button down shirt and some grey slacks. Since I didn’t have a brush or anything, I gathered my hair up into a messy bun.

Her jaw literally dropped, and she sat up straight, smoothing her hair. "Holy mother of hotness," she whispered. I turned to follow her gaze and spotted Jackson walking through the door. And... okay, I had to admit, three years had been good to him. The lanky college boy had filled out, his shoulders broader under a fitted navy blazer. His dark hair was styled in that deliberately messy way, and he'd grown a short, neatly trimmed beard that defined his jawline. "Is that Jackson?" Hazel hissed, clutching my arm. "What happened to the skinny nerd with the Star Wars t-shirts and the bad haircut?"

Gunnar added, leaning closer, his voice low. The barber swallowed hard, his initial bravado now replaced by a sheepish demeanor. “Yes, of course. I’ll stick to the haircut.” Gunnar leaned back, his mood slightly soured but still amused by the situation. The barber, clearly embarrassed and eager to make amends, quickly focused on his task, working diligently to perfect the Classic Quiff cut. Rene, still sipping his whiskey, finally looked up, noticing the tension. He raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. “Everything alright?”

There was enough in my hair to keep it in check for a year, and it made me icky. My fingers itched to run the detachable showerhead over my scalp to rid it of the mess. Len was present, and he stared back when I looked in the mirror. He didn’t like this. Neither did I. But Beth wanted gentle and sweet. I could try to be that or at least look the part. Malik was on a buzzcut, and I had no intentions of growing my beard as long as his. Hank loved his hair gel. The few times I saw him, his hair was intact. So this was a compromise of some weird sort.