Ugly People With Braids Novels & Stories

Aria The girl in front of me surprisingly doesn't look as vicious as I imagined. From here, I can tell that her hair that's supposed to be a dark shade of blonde, has been dirtied to the point, it looks more like muddy brown. She's braided it into two rough braids that fall behind her shoulders. Her wide eyes are a shade of brown that twinkle in the light coming from the door. But other than that, the scowl on her face is the only thing that spoils her features.

“Excuse me. I want to talk with the three of you.” The group, whom he now realized looked younger and probably in their late teenage years, turned to him with disinterest look on their faces. The tallest of them was a young man with side burns, tattooed neck, and blonde hair that was braided. Wearing dark leather jacket with fishnet shirt underneath, baggy pants with chains on the side, and dark sandals with his nails which were obviously dyed black. The other two dressed not too different from him, but their hair was just messier than him, black and brown, and not braided.

She scrunched her face up "what do you mean" "well you know the two braids that you see the white girls wearing" she nodded her head "well those are called cornrows not boxer braids or any other name they tried to give it; and Kim Kardashian didn't invent them. I mean I have no problem with white girls wearing them, just don't try to say some famous white girl invented them" "I understand now girls at my old school used to say it was because white girls looked better in them, but I knew that was a lie"

The inky, greasy, black hair on his head is slicked back, and he looks sleazy. Behind him and Felix are three pale people with bright red eyes. One is a beautiful dark-skinned female with braids tied up in a large bun on her head. She has a long slender face, big round eyes, plump lips painted maroon, and a matching tight dress showing off her hourglass figure. The one standing next to her looks exactly like the bald male version of her siblings, I guess. He's huge, bigger than the behemoth of a creep standing before them. One of his arms is the size of my head. Then next to him is a thin but well-muscled blonde man; his hair is short on the sides but long up top; he's got tattoos running up

I responded, feeling embarrassed at the thought that they might have noticed me staring at Bas. “We were wondering if we could style your hair,” the older one said, pointing at my hair. “Uhmm..Sure,” I agreed, relieved as they took my hands and led me away from Bas. Being in his presence only stirred up more conflicting emotions that I wasn’t ready to confront. The girls giggled excitedly as they worked on my hair, gently combing and braiding my brown wavy hair “We’re done,” the girl announced, holding up a mirror for me to see. When I looked in the mirror, I couldn’t believe my eyes. The braids in my brown wavy hair were stunning, each one decorated with colorful flower petals. It looked so

"His hair was very long, and it was all stuck together. It was greasy, and there was a pungent stench coming from it. Thus, they couldn't help but step back at the sight of him." "The man's hair was covering his face, so his appearance couldn't be seen at all. The clothes on his body were unbearably tattered, to the extent where some areas were already torn apart. Some of his skin was revealed, but they were all covered in injuries. Furthermore, they saw new wounds and old scars covering his body, so they were terrible." "Well, Mango had only looked at Barack roughly, but she couldn't take it anymore. Perhaps there wasn't much light here now, but Barack's hair looked as if it had turned whit

She seems to have done hers, and cut it so it stays as a bob length with purple highlights while mine are stubborn auburn curls which I could never seem to straighten out no matter how much I had tried—I had given up at this point. The reason I tried so hard back then even was because Anthony hated them—he always complained about how I should lose that body weight—and well, pregnancy added more to it, only none of them knew. He also complained about how stubborn my curls are, and how it always looks so messy let down so I always tie them up to avoid getting on his nerves. Which is why for today, I had sat down and braided them into four braids, letting them down. Both Valeria and I are dress

Her hands move so fast they become a blur of fingers and scarred drum sticks. "Sorry," I mumble. Everyone is staring daggers at me. Wait. Hol'up. Why is that? "Ah-ah, this is like the fifth row you messed up. What's wrong with you today?" She queries. The single ebony braid not tapered into a neat cornrow down her scalp cowlicks before her eyes. There are tiny gold rings slipped through her braids; there always are. I use to think they made her look formidable, like a warrior princess out of an epic movie.

Before I could respond, the questions started flying. "Did you cry?" one of the boys asked. "Who made you cry?" Daniela added. "Do you have children?" asked the oldest. "Are you going to live with us?" the third boy chimed in. "Can you braid hair?" Daniela asked again, her eyes wide with hope. "No, sweetie..." I began. Her face fell immediately. "Why can’t you? My mommy can’t braid, but my grandma can." "Because she’s African!" her brother declared matter-of-factly. "But Mommy is not… she’s Russian. And her?... She's… She's.... She's..Indian?"

Sasha J. Morales << Your hair is beautiful. - THANKS. » I say, rushing towards the exit door. $4000 to have my hair brushed, well, my wig. I want to throw up, I'll never do it again. “I hope we can see each other again.” »> I'm sure he's hiding a doll inflatable somewhere in this mansion. This guy is truly one of the creepiest men I have ever met. There was nothing sexual, he just wanted to brush my hair for almost an hour. But I have the impression that he derived obscene pleasure from it. I feel incredibly dirty.