I tousled my hair this morning when i woke up. I went into the kitchen and had my breakfast. i got dressed and when i looked in the mirror my hair was a mess!
Her hair was tousled and beautiful, she immediately caught my eye as I scanned the crowded room. Her emerald eyes shone as bright as diamonds and she wore a cheeky grin that gave her a mysterious look. I couldn’t take my eyes off this peculiar girl with the tousled ginger hair.
The world stopped at her tousled hair and the sunshine on the windowsill. I never thought of flannel pajamas as particularly exotic but this morning, imbued with the smells of our unslept hours, they were intoxicating.
It was nearing midnight, and the sailor could not fall asleep. The ship he was in was only one in a fleet of 264, out in the deep Atlantic. They were being tousled like hair, the ships and their crewmembers both. He was fresh from the academy, and it was his first deployment. He and the rest of his shipmates were headed to Portugal, specifically to Peniche, to the base established only 6 months prior, before the war.
He sat up and looked around the room. She was hurriedly dressing, but when she saw that he was awake, she stopped and glared at him.
“Since when do you wake up so early?”
He rubbed his eyes. “The bed was cold,” he explained. “I can’t sleep when you’re not next to me.”
Her expression softened. She walked over to run her fingers through his tousled hair. He slid his arms around her waist and hugged her tightly. She gave him a peck on the lips, then slid out of his arms. “I’m late for work.”
tousled, she held her blouse in one hand, swiss army knife in the other,
feeling like a mouse but emanating tiger
she walked down the road with angels on all sides, her
secret smile was hard to read.
The sheets around me bound my feet as if asking me to stay by your side. I turned to look you in the eyes through my hair that always went this way and that. Your bare chest breathed deeply as I gazed, your hair lied perfectly against your cheek. Happiness swelled in the depths of my heart and I leaned in and kissed your collarbone.
Tousled is a parent or older sibling related word. They are the ones who mess up your hair in a teasing manner, forcing you to smooth is back down as quickly as possible, casting anxious looks around you to make sure none of your friends saw it. It’s something that you start hating more and more as you grow up, but look back on when you’re old with fond memories of your childhood.
her hair looked so gorgeous in the morning. she turned to me and smiled, one eye covered by her hair, the other robin’s egg brighter than I could understand.
her tousled hair reminded him of the weekend they spent in New York. It was raining when they had gotten home, so her hair was wet when they fell, exhausted, into bed. In the morning, when the breaking sun fell across her eyes and she woke, the curls she usually fought to tame were alive
“What did you think I meant, silly? Get your mind out of the gutter,” T.J. laughed, tousling her hair.
Despite his faults and his somewhat crude sense of humor, or perhaps because of them, this strange friend, this man who had weaseled a way into her strictly regulated, no-time-for-relationships life, reminded Anna so much of Joe. Sometimes she would do a double-take to reassure herself that it wasn’t him. She felt like a parasite, clinging to T.J. merely to absorb the echoes of Joe that seemed to reverberate from him.
light peeks beneath white shudders, and i’d love to stay, but there is work to be done and people to be seen, love.
and yes, yes last night was fun. and tonight will be just the same.
yes, i’ll come right back after work.
yes, baby, i’ll call.
yes.
yes, i love you too.
I sat back in my chair, my feet on my student desk. Arms crossed against my leather wearing chest. My hair was perfectly straight. The teacher kept yelling across the room at the teens running around screaming there heads off. I stared out the window, the Tornado was approaching
He sits in bed with his hair tousled about his head like it’s never laid straight in his life, but Quan’s fairly certain in that moment that he doesn’t need it to be any other way. Neither of them break the moment by speaking, but when Quan dips over to press a kiss to his shoulder, Derik smiles.
The landscape seemed shabby. The entire town was tousled from the Earthquake… And the tornado… and the Hurricane. Natural disasters frequently destroyed the town. It took a long time for us poor folk to build it back to its original state, but it is always worth it.
She rose from the bed and stared in the mirror at her tousled hair. It’s always worse when I sleep inside, she thought. I could have the world’s hardest rock for a pillow and wake up because a goat walked on my hair, but it still looks better than this.
At least after today I won’t be sleeping inside for a while.
My hair was tousled in the heavy Wind and slamming rain. Thunder was heard off close by and I had to hurry home. I rushed through the town park, lightning struck a tree and it fell in my path. I jumped over it and hurried on.
Her hair was tousled. She had obviously just woken up, and yet she somehow didn’t look mad. That was the thing about Ashley; she was never mad. Not even in that sour, closed-in, grumpy way that most girls use once in a while to let you know that you’ve done something wrong.
Tousled hair, it’s getting too long. He asked me for a haircut last weekend but we were too busy rolling around in my bed and I never got to it. I’d hate to lose his shaggy locks, nothing to run my fingers through, grab, pull…
It took me hours. and in the end it just looked as if I’d been for a walk in the rain. my face was also red and blotched with the fury of trying to get it right. i just have shit hair. end of story. and unless you have a stylist on tap then you don’t stand a hope in hell
Doesn’t tousled always refer to hair? I can’t imagine anything else that could be tousled. And what does the word tousled mean? I can only recall it being used in conjunction with bed head. I suppose you could say that the landscape after a hurricane looks rather tousled. Other than that, it’s an enigma to me. Who chooses these words?
What is it about a tousled head that’s so endearing? I love it when my boy wakes up and is all sleepy grumpy and just wants to roll over and bury his sleepy head in my lap, going directly back to dreamland.
Something was amiss. Something was different. His sneakers were new, untouched by the grimy hands of the earth. His shirt was new too. It had been ironed, she was sure of it. Crisp and creaseless, it was devoid of its familiar casualness. The only thing that remained untouched was his brown hair, as if it was the only survivor of John’s new transformation. It remained silently, almost invisible in contrast to John’s new alterations. It was in its messy state, tousled intentionally, yet still seemed to be completely natural.
He tousled her hair as he looked deeply into her eyes. If she could she would freeze this one moment in time and just bask in the beauty of it all. Life had so many ups and downs, so many hardships and heartbreaks but for now those things all fell away and she was just satisfied to enjoy the simplicity of this affectionate gesture.
It bounced up and down, side to side energetically. Never stopping to question the theory of gravity. I stared blankly at its movement, trying to think of a word to describe it. It was a tousled…..
I looked at myself in the mirror and sighed.
“What are you sighing?” said a voice.
I saw my boyfriend standing at the bathroom’s door. His hair was still tousled and he had only his pants on.
“Oh… nothing…”
He smiled, walked toward me to hug me from behind.
“You’re fine the way you are.”
I looked at myself in the mirror and sighed.
“What are you sighing?” said a voice.
I saw my boyfriend standing at the bathroom’s door. His hairs were still tousled and he had only his pants on.
“Oh… nothing…”
He smiled, walked toward me and hugged me from behind.
“You’re fine the way you are.”
I don’t know what it is. That’s it.
OK, fine. Now I do. I am tousled. And my mind is. And my soul. Especially my soul—after what happened yesterday. Hope the next stage won’t be just ‘broken’.
Right after he got up he already run to her, on the corridor. She seemed all tousled and fluffy, like something you would put in your pocket to show your mother. But not him. He walked past her and said “good morning comrade” and didn’t wait for the smile.
He tousled her hair and smiled down at her. She had seen him here before, and knew he was kind to the other girls. He pointed to the doorway, and raised an eyebrow to ask a wordless question, which she answered by rising from her chair and taking his hand. The game had begun again, but tonight it would end very differently…
I tousled my hair this morning when i woke up. I went into the kitchen and had my breakfast. i got dressed and when i looked in the mirror my hair was a mess!
I tousled my hair
but I don’t even care
people look and stare
and they even glare!
Her hair was tousled and beautiful, she immediately caught my eye as I scanned the crowded room. Her emerald eyes shone as bright as diamonds and she wore a cheeky grin that gave her a mysterious look. I couldn’t take my eyes off this peculiar girl with the tousled ginger hair.
how can you look so
picturesque
with your tangled hair
your splotchy skin
your dried lips
your tired eyes
your severed head
(god must love you,
yes he does)
The world stopped at her tousled hair and the sunshine on the windowsill. I never thought of flannel pajamas as particularly exotic but this morning, imbued with the smells of our unslept hours, they were intoxicating.
It was nearing midnight, and the sailor could not fall asleep. The ship he was in was only one in a fleet of 264, out in the deep Atlantic. They were being tousled like hair, the ships and their crewmembers both. He was fresh from the academy, and it was his first deployment. He and the rest of his shipmates were headed to Portugal, specifically to Peniche, to the base established only 6 months prior, before the war.
He sat up and looked around the room. She was hurriedly dressing, but when she saw that he was awake, she stopped and glared at him.
“Since when do you wake up so early?”
He rubbed his eyes. “The bed was cold,” he explained. “I can’t sleep when you’re not next to me.”
Her expression softened. She walked over to run her fingers through his tousled hair. He slid his arms around her waist and hugged her tightly. She gave him a peck on the lips, then slid out of his arms. “I’m late for work.”
tousled, she held her blouse in one hand, swiss army knife in the other,
feeling like a mouse but emanating tiger
she walked down the road with angels on all sides, her
secret smile was hard to read.
Your tousled hair is the first thing I see in the morning, and it’s the loveliest thing I wake up to.
The sheets around me bound my feet as if asking me to stay by your side. I turned to look you in the eyes through my hair that always went this way and that. Your bare chest breathed deeply as I gazed, your hair lied perfectly against your cheek. Happiness swelled in the depths of my heart and I leaned in and kissed your collarbone.
Tousled is a parent or older sibling related word. They are the ones who mess up your hair in a teasing manner, forcing you to smooth is back down as quickly as possible, casting anxious looks around you to make sure none of your friends saw it. It’s something that you start hating more and more as you grow up, but look back on when you’re old with fond memories of your childhood.
He was all tousled curls and big dark eyes in an innocent face, and people either wanted to protect him or hurt him. Sometimes both.
her hair looked so gorgeous in the morning. she turned to me and smiled, one eye covered by her hair, the other robin’s egg brighter than I could understand.
her tousled hair reminded him of the weekend they spent in New York. It was raining when they had gotten home, so her hair was wet when they fell, exhausted, into bed. In the morning, when the breaking sun fell across her eyes and she woke, the curls she usually fought to tame were alive
his hair was tousled and tumbled, there even was hay buried in the blonde mop atop his head.
Now I understand what is going on, I am not tousled at all, is that what you want to hear from me?/?
Something unusual, probably it is the part of a body or some action connected with it.
“What did you think I meant, silly? Get your mind out of the gutter,” T.J. laughed, tousling her hair.
Despite his faults and his somewhat crude sense of humor, or perhaps because of them, this strange friend, this man who had weaseled a way into her strictly regulated, no-time-for-relationships life, reminded Anna so much of Joe. Sometimes she would do a double-take to reassure herself that it wasn’t him. She felt like a parasite, clinging to T.J. merely to absorb the echoes of Joe that seemed to reverberate from him.
………….aaaand that sounds like Twilight….. -.-
light peeks beneath white shudders, and i’d love to stay, but there is work to be done and people to be seen, love.
and yes, yes last night was fun. and tonight will be just the same.
yes, i’ll come right back after work.
yes, baby, i’ll call.
yes.
yes, i love you too.
I sat back in my chair, my feet on my student desk. Arms crossed against my leather wearing chest. My hair was perfectly straight. The teacher kept yelling across the room at the teens running around screaming there heads off. I stared out the window, the Tornado was approaching
He sits in bed with his hair tousled about his head like it’s never laid straight in his life, but Quan’s fairly certain in that moment that he doesn’t need it to be any other way. Neither of them break the moment by speaking, but when Quan dips over to press a kiss to his shoulder, Derik smiles.
The landscape seemed shabby. The entire town was tousled from the Earthquake… And the tornado… and the Hurricane. Natural disasters frequently destroyed the town. It took a long time for us poor folk to build it back to its original state, but it is always worth it.
She rose from the bed and stared in the mirror at her tousled hair. It’s always worse when I sleep inside, she thought. I could have the world’s hardest rock for a pillow and wake up because a goat walked on my hair, but it still looks better than this.
At least after today I won’t be sleeping inside for a while.
My hair was tousled in the heavy Wind and slamming rain. Thunder was heard off close by and I had to hurry home. I rushed through the town park, lightning struck a tree and it fell in my path. I jumped over it and hurried on.
Her hair was tousled. She had obviously just woken up, and yet she somehow didn’t look mad. That was the thing about Ashley; she was never mad. Not even in that sour, closed-in, grumpy way that most girls use once in a while to let you know that you’ve done something wrong.
Tousled hair, it’s getting too long. He asked me for a haircut last weekend but we were too busy rolling around in my bed and I never got to it. I’d hate to lose his shaggy locks, nothing to run my fingers through, grab, pull…
It took me hours. and in the end it just looked as if I’d been for a walk in the rain. my face was also red and blotched with the fury of trying to get it right. i just have shit hair. end of story. and unless you have a stylist on tap then you don’t stand a hope in hell
probably hahaha… made my classmate’s hair messy.. blah blah blah..twas fun though but they got annoyed.. later again.. and also my room …. fine -.-
Doesn’t tousled always refer to hair? I can’t imagine anything else that could be tousled. And what does the word tousled mean? I can only recall it being used in conjunction with bed head. I suppose you could say that the landscape after a hurricane looks rather tousled. Other than that, it’s an enigma to me. Who chooses these words?
What is it about a tousled head that’s so endearing? I love it when my boy wakes up and is all sleepy grumpy and just wants to roll over and bury his sleepy head in my lap, going directly back to dreamland.
Something was amiss. Something was different. His sneakers were new, untouched by the grimy hands of the earth. His shirt was new too. It had been ironed, she was sure of it. Crisp and creaseless, it was devoid of its familiar casualness. The only thing that remained untouched was his brown hair, as if it was the only survivor of John’s new transformation. It remained silently, almost invisible in contrast to John’s new alterations. It was in its messy state, tousled intentionally, yet still seemed to be completely natural.
She looked so happy lying there on the bed with her tousled hair, free of make up. She was such a lovely creature
He tousled her hair as he looked deeply into her eyes. If she could she would freeze this one moment in time and just bask in the beauty of it all. Life had so many ups and downs, so many hardships and heartbreaks but for now those things all fell away and she was just satisfied to enjoy the simplicity of this affectionate gesture.
It bounced up and down, side to side energetically. Never stopping to question the theory of gravity. I stared blankly at its movement, trying to think of a word to describe it. It was a tousled…..
I looked at myself in the mirror and sighed.
“What are you sighing?” said a voice.
I saw my boyfriend standing at the bathroom’s door. His hair was still tousled and he had only his pants on.
“Oh… nothing…”
He smiled, walked toward me to hug me from behind.
“You’re fine the way you are.”
I looked at myself in the mirror and sighed.
“What are you sighing?” said a voice.
I saw my boyfriend standing at the bathroom’s door. His hairs were still tousled and he had only his pants on.
“Oh… nothing…”
He smiled, walked toward me and hugged me from behind.
“You’re fine the way you are.”
I don’t know what it is. That’s it.
OK, fine. Now I do. I am tousled. And my mind is. And my soul. Especially my soul—after what happened yesterday. Hope the next stage won’t be just ‘broken’.
I love how his hair tangles in my hands, how the curls mold to the shape of my fingers even after they return to my sides.
When I wake up, he’s the first thing I see.
And the only thing don’t want to look away from.
Right after he got up he already run to her, on the corridor. She seemed all tousled and fluffy, like something you would put in your pocket to show your mother. But not him. He walked past her and said “good morning comrade” and didn’t wait for the smile.
He tousled her hair and smiled down at her. She had seen him here before, and knew he was kind to the other girls. He pointed to the doorway, and raised an eyebrow to ask a wordless question, which she answered by rising from her chair and taking his hand. The game had begun again, but tonight it would end very differently…