Tapered Black Female Fade Haircut Designs の小説・ストーリー

I watched as her cropped black hair bounced with each step. Taking in her appearance, she was beautiful. Her sun-kissed skin held a perfect glow, complementing her golden eyes. She was the exact description of perfection. Her nails perfectly painted, her black dress and blue blazer hugging her curves, her legs went on forever, and the electric blue heels she wore finished her look, adding to her professional look. She was designed to draw your attention. Like all the Fae I had encountered here, the beauty they held was anything less than magical.

It wasn’t even a v-cut, it was practically a bra. There were intricate cuts and designs in the cups. It squeezed my body tight and gave me the look of an hourglass frame. My hips looked a lot bigger than they actually were. When I turned to the side, my eyebrows shot up, my ass looked bigger than it actually was. I had on six-inch fuck me black heels that crossed over my toes, making my feet look beautiful and slender. She styled my hair down. When I was younger, it had always been up in a bun. Today, it was straight and framed not only my face but my chest as it ran down my back.

Something everyone would see and know that something had changed. No more colors for me. I’ll be sticking to black, even down to my underwear. The gown was plain, there were no designs on it apart from the pattern of wool because it was knitted. Its sleeves were short and it weaved to my thighs, modestly short because it stopped right above my knees. I cleaned off the old polish on my nails and reapplied black. Adding purple touches to the edges. Because it caused too much pain to work on my hair, I tied it up in a ponytail.

The black hair—the same hair Zion wrapped around his fingers while he fucked me until I forgot my own name, the same hair Elias brushed from my face with a tenderness that broke my heart, the same hair Luka held like reins while he possessed me with that devastating precision—falls straight and dark over the shoulders of the cheap coat I bought at the first store I found. My natural hair. Black as night, black as Zion’s eyes, black as the secrets I have carried for decades. I pick up the box of blonde dye bought at the corner pharmacy along with the disposable scissors. Not salon blonde, not the sophisticated blonde of a woman who has time and money to take care of herself. The aggressive, a

That little girl is something else. . Saturday. The day of the charity gala has arrived,I did a pretty job organizing this gala without Mira's help. My makeup crew just finished with me and Erica. The hair style did great with my new hair cut. I really love the dirty blond hair but I think my natural black hair is better. My once long hair is now cut short to my neck. Can't say I hate,I love it but I missed my long her. Erica says it was time for me to spice things up.

She asked her. “Yes, please. I'll appreciate it ma'am.” Veronica answered excitedly. Soon Beta Lily got to work. She cut the hair up to half it's previous length just like Veronica wanted, and added the black hair dye to her previously silver hair color. In about one hour and half, she was completely done. Finally allowed to look at the finished work in the mirror, Veronica was amazed at how she now looked. “Wow. I look…” “Beautiful as always.” Beta Lily cut in before she could say anything.

"She's my best friend, Grace." "I see." She smiled. "Nice to meet you guys." Tiffany had jet black hair with dark blue highlights in it and her eyes were too big for her face. She was wearing a pink and black crop top with a pair of black bum shorts. She had the perfect model figure, she was skinny with full breasts and curves in the right places. She was wearing too much eye makeup and her fake lashes looked like she was accommodating spider webs on her real ones. She was pretty either way.

I picked up a pair of heavy industrial shears from the vanity. ​With a single, decisive motion, I hacked through the long, dark locks Malakai used to wind around his fingers when he kissed me. I cut until the hair hit just above my jaw—short, jagged, and practical. I dyed it a deep, obsidian black in the bathroom sink, watching the dark pigment swirl down the drain like the last of my innocence. When I looked back into the glass, I didn't recognize the woman looking back. She looked like a blade—sharp, dark, and ready to draw blood.

“Now, let’s get on with this. If I’m going to endure this sham of a wedding, I’ll do it on my terms.” The hairstylist completed her work in under 40 minutes, transforming my usual straight black hair into a cascade of voluminous curls. Each curl was perfectly defined, framing my face beautifully before flowing effortlessly down my back, just above my waist. The result was stunning, even by my own high standards.

Sometimes fate steps in to help after she knocks you on your ass. – Mike Standing from her chair, Rye stretched her arms high above her head and felt her back pop. The loose black t-shirt for a band she had never heard of rode up exposing pale flat abdominal muscles. She tugged down her shirt before running her hands through her short black hair. Rye wore her hair in what her coworkers had called the Karen bob. Longer in the front, short in the back and her natural gray patch falling on her right side. It worked well with her oval face and required minimal effort.