The Punisher Haircut Novels & Stories

The thrill of winning, of going after a goal and achieving it would never get old, no matter how many businesses I flipped or how much money I made. It was almost enough to lift my dark mood. Then, I caught sight of myself in the artfully arrange mirrors on the far side of the penthouse suite’s office. I hated this fucking haircut. I looked like a werewolf, and while that would serve me for all the business I planned to do in Mooncrest, I couldn’t wait for my hair to grow back to its original length. I should have gouged Silverstone’s Chief’s eyes out for challenging me in the first place, let alone cutting my hair with that illegal move. While taking more than half of everything he owned fo

She would always have him over when we would hang out and slowly our relationship grew close again. I smiled as I remembered the day that I finally got away from Ryker and how Paxton was by my side from then on. He was a very good friend and I loved him for that. I got dressed and went into the bathroom to fix my hair. Before our trip, Bree and Audrey had dragged me to the salon to get our hair done. I had always just kept my natural hair color, which was a dark brown, but I was a free woman and wanted to do something different. So I went with a hombre color. It started with a blue color and faded into pink at the ends. I loved it. Then I had got a hair up my ass and took the girls with me t

“Her hair is light brown? Real long? She wears it in a braid?” When he comes around the corner, my heart hits a hard beat. The fatigue sweeps away when I see how the stylist cleaned up his looks. His new haircut frames his face perfectly. Not too short on top with a little gel holding it in place and a clean fade down the sides and back. They even made him shave the scruff off his face. It makes his jaw look more square and his overall appearance more mature. Those eyes, though, they’re still overflowing with mischief.

He was white, early 30’s, hair in a ponytail, always wearing John Lennon-style round sunglasses, always dressed in black. This guy was really dark-skinned, with a long, ugly scar across his right cheek that was lighter than the rest of his face. He wasn’t shaved bald, but his hair was so closely cropped next to his head that he might as well have been. His angry eyes flitted back and forth like they were on a seek-and-destroy mission. He was dressed in a shark-skin suit, an electric blue tie, and a white shirt so crisp you could have cut yourself on the edges of the collar. He looked a little like Don Cheadle, if Don Cheadle were perpetually pissed-off and dressed like a gangster in a Guy Ri

I just chuckle. "You seem so angry I’m hurt." One last punch lands on my cheek my head hit that floor again, loudly. I'll have a concussion at this rate. Asher stands, tethers his tie out of place, and heads for the door. As the door clicks shut, I muse to the empty steam: "No one talks about you sucking a guy's dick, 01."

I replied. They both looked at each other like this was an amusing game. I can already tell that even though they seem like mean fighting machines they are nothing but jokesters underneath it all. "I was going to cut my hair today, that's what we usually do so that people can tell us apart but, we have crazed elders on the loose so that got put on hold." One replied. A haircut? I could do that. I mean how hard could it be? "How do you usually cut it?" I asked. "I usually buzz cut the sides but leave the top a little longer to style it." He replied. Now that I look I can see that his hair is shorter than his brothers. "Okay, let's do it then." I replied smiling. His smile dropped from his fac

“He hates the hair.” Justice studied it. “You were not born with that bright hair, correct? I like it but I have never seen that color before and I have seen a lot of people since we were freed.” “It’s straight from a bottle. It’s not the color he objects to but he does miss seeing it a lot less colorful. It’s the length he hates the most. I refused to cut it after an especially bad haircut when I was sixteen that made me look like a boy and it was days before my

When I was satisfied enough I let go of him so I could look at him nicely. He cut his hair in the sides and let it only on the top of his head. what's up with guys and this style? He had done dreads with the top hair which he tied back. He's face had changed a little as he looked more mature and his milky chocolate skin had a glow to it. He's eyes were a lighter grey now, and they looked even more prettier and I couldn't stop my smile. When Danny noticed what I was looking at he looked down. My smile dropped instantly. Placing my hand on his cheek concerned I asked.

He should love you as you are, Skinny said a lifetime ago. She shook her head. Squeezed her eyes closed. “No, no, no.” Gripped and sawed her hair. “He doesn’t. He wanted brown.” Pulled and parted and sliced. “He chose brown.” Chopped the platinum free, letting it fall to her shoulders. “That’s an answer right there. Brown not blonde.” Hair fluttered to land at her knees, peroxide strands littering the stranger’s wide knees and pudgy feet. Soon her palm raced over a bare scalp, fingertips discovering jagged and peeling nicks she never felt. Slick, bleeding cuts she failed to notice. The blade returned, the spit in her hand wetting the remaining tufts as she shaved close.

Then she grabbed her puffer coat and looked in the mirror. “Oh ma geez” she said. Her hair, a mess .. and her face still very bruised. The stitches coming down her forehead looked the worst though. Why on earth Quinn would want to be seen in public with her… she had no idea. A few months later he had had to be She ended up throwing her hair in a messy bun on top of her head…. Once again revisiting the idea that she might get it chopped off. Her hair was extremely long right now, nearly down to her butt.