Black hair salons in southfield mi
Would it be safe to dye my balding hair black?
2023.06.05 15:15 metalf4c3 Would it be safe to dye my balding hair black?
So I have brown hair that’s thinning/balding and I’m just wondering if I went to a good salon would it be safe to dye black. My balding isn’t that extreme you can’t really notice it unless you really look and examine it. I’ve been dying to just be able to do something different with my hair but I’m just scared dying it will just make the balding/thinning worse
submitted by metalf4c3 to HairDye [link] [comments]
2023.06.05 15:11 haroldkebba I Think My Village Was Haunted By God... [Part 1]
I hope this is the right place and someone can tell me what may have been going on in my village. I moved here a few weeks ago. It's a small village in the heart of Russia and my parents and I came here because things start to get really bad in Moscow and my father lost his job. I don't know why we had to move to this isolated village, so far away from civilization. Maybe my parents wanted peace and quiet? To escape the things in that city, the poisoned minds?
The houses here had all been far below average in price. Almost everyone who lives here has moved here recently.
But, there are crazy rumors about this village that people tell each other. It was found abandoned in the mid-nineties. Where everyone went, no one knows. They say that no signs of people were found at all, nothing. But... everywhere in and around the village… strange patches of earth had been discovered, circular and smooth. Not only in the forest or on the road, but also in the dilapidated wooden houses. At our new neighbors' house, one of the mysterious spots had supposedly been found right in the living room floor, where the floorboards had been just cut away.
These rumors scare me. I am afraid of this village. But yesterday... I was redoing the floor in my room with my father and there... I found a notebook under the old boards. I hid it from my father, I don't know why... Someone must have left it there.
Last night... that's when I read it. I read it and now I'm incredibly afraid of this house and this village. Of the fields and the woods that surround me. The notebook apparently belonged to someone called Ilya Vasiliev. I have tried to translate what he wrote, hoping that someone here can help me find an explanation for the rumors. For this uneasy feeling that I have since I moved here...
***********
I am fine. I want that to be clear from the beginning. My story is strange and in huge parts troubling, but I am still in the best state of mental health.
I am fine!
My story begins seven months ago, in December 1979, when deep winter was upon our village. We were preparing for Christmas, the first Christmas to be celebrated publicly throughout the village, after years of having to practice our faith in secret because the Soviet government did not allow religions. Only in the last few years did the Reds' view loosen and they allowed small islands of faith. One of them was my village, which finally dared to celebrate and praise the Lord.
I have been a believer all twenty years of my life, an exemplary Christian, just like my parents. Faith had kept our family line alive in times of terror and misery. Death had always been close to us, as the fields where most of the population of our village had worked for generations had once brought the end of hundreds of people. Many years ago, on those fields, atrocities had occurred that had finally given them their present name: The Fields of Death.
I myself had not been born back then, not by a long shot, but my grandparents had spent their childhood there, a childhood full of hunger and depravity. My grandfather Fomenko often told me and my sister the stories he had experienced and how faith had saved everyone. There had been a long, cold winter and the grain had been confiscated by the government to be taken to the cities for distribution. After all, the grain belonged to all the people, not just those on the farms who planted it, tended to it, and harvested it. And so, the only food of that time left my grandfather's village and never came back. Some of his neighbors had once tried to hold back some grain, to hide some sacks, but when they were caught, a hail of bullets determined their fate. People lived in fear, not daring to stop working, not daring to keep for themselves the food that was destined for the common good. In those days, horrors happened in my village that I cannot truly picture today, not even when I hear my grandfather's usually clear voice begin to tremble. When I see in his eyes that he would rather forget, in order to experience a peaceful sleep once again… someday.
He told us about those horrors to warn us of how quickly life can plunge from safety into infinite terror. Winter had reigned. The grain was being hauled away. They still shot all those who tried to keep back pieces of it, be it a sack or some husks that had fallen from a cart. In time, hunger began to drive people in our village insane. Parents locked up their children so they wouldn't be taken by neighbors to feed their hunger. Friends turned their backs on each other and killed each other in fights for the last livestock that was still breathing. The streets reeked of decay and death, of misery and suffering. One day, my grandfather told us, he had hidden in the back room of his house while his parents dragged themselves, emaciated, to the fields to pick the last scraps of grain from the furrows with their dirty, half-frozen fingers. He had come across a book there, a book that had saved his life.
The word of God. An old Bible.
My grandfather had learned to read at an early age, one of the sad advantages of living in the Soviet Union.
It was in the room I now live in that Grandfather Fomenko had found the dusty book. Actually, he had been looking for something to eat, the days before he had found some sawdust. But despite his hunger and the grumbling in his stomach, eating the book was out of the question. Books were sacred, and no book as sacred as this one. He had begun to read and learned about the greatness of the Lord. Of the miracles his Son had performed. And of the magic of faith. His stomach had growled, but he had ignored it. The words gave him comfort.
The next day he immersed himself in the book again, disappearing into better worlds and times, hearing wisdom and encouragement. But around noon there was a knock at the door. My grandfather emphasized each time that he had not been afraid, that he had known that the Lord would protect him, when the old neighbor gained entrance to our house armed with a cleaver. It was clear what he wanted: Meat. My grandfather told us each time about how the neighbor had looked more undead than human, stinking and with sunken eyes, smelling like death from his mouth, the cleaver trembling in his hand.
"I'm sorry, boy," was all the man could get out.
My grandfather tried to mimic this poor man’s voice at the end of his wits, to express his pain through words so that we understood that poor fellow a little.
The Lord's words had given courage to my grandfather in his most terrible moments. He had stood up and firmly said:
"Away with you, the Lord protects the inhabitants of this house!"
But the intruder did not care, coming closer. And so, my grandfather again sought comfort and prayed. He prayed for mercy and peace and for his life. He would serve the Lord for the rest of his days. Trust Him blindly.
Suddenly, like a gruesome miracle, the famished intruder let out an inhuman groan and collapsed, lifeless and debilitated. There had been no hunger for my grandfather and his family for a week after that. My grandfather had been praying to the Lord since that day, thanking Him for His mercy. The story spread around the village and out of desperation or hope, in the next few days everyone secretly knelt in front of small wooden crosses they had made themselves and prayed to the Lord. A week later, like a miracle, the long-awaited delivery of grain arrived, along with spring. There had not been another bad time since then.
These events are the reason for the faith in our village... and our family. The psalm my grandfather had prayed as the hungry neighbor attacked had become the guiding psalm of our faith. All these years we had not been able to celebrate Christmas with the other families, but since the restrictions on faith communities had been relaxed, we had all finally decided to celebrate the holy festival in the village square. And so, we started the preparations.
There, in those evening hours, my part of the story begins. I and my younger sister Zarina, together with other youths and young adults, were fetching wood for the fire that was to burn in the center of our village. So, we went out into the night, dressed with thick pelts, to fetch logs from the edge of the fields that some men had prepared.
My breath could be seen as an icy breeze in the dawning darkness and I was already looking forward to dancing around the fire with everyone later, drinking good drinks and eating sumptuously. I was glad that we didn't have to walk across the fields themselves, but could stroll along their edge to get the logs.
You can feel death when it has hit a place. I was glad that I didn't have to work the fields myself, and had learned the carpentry trade. Therefore, I was spared from having to wander around there every day, among the echoes of past atrocities and sadness.
We were all in good spirits, strolling over the muddy ground, when all at once Zarina pointed up and into the clear night sky.
"Look, an angel is descending!" she exclaimed excitedly.
We all looked to where her outstretched hand pointed. A round light glowed in the night sky, glaring yellowish and shining strangely cold.
"It's singing! At Christmas! The Lord puts our feast under his sign!" Zarina cried.
We stopped and listened into the silence of the night. At first, I could hear nothing, at first, everything remained quiet, and only the distant beating of axes and the rustling of the wind in the treetops were audible.
But then, there in the wind, I could hear it, briefly but clearly. It was a kind of melodic whisper, joyful, yet also strange and otherworldly. It was heard only very briefly, and soon died away as the glow flew out of sight and disappeared somewhere far away.
"Let's go find the angel! Let's..." Zarina cried, continuing excitedly, but I interrupted her.
"We have to get the wood. We can report back to the village later, if it hasn't already been noticed there too," I said.
"You heard the singing! Surely that was an angel. Shall we leave it there? It may have gotten hurt, it must have hit something!" Sasha murmured.
Sasha was my oldest friend and one of the boys who worked on the fields. He had always been very caring and had always tried to help where he could. His parents were long dead and the old lady who had raised him was no longer around, either. So, he struggled along, working the fields, but the rest of us looked out for him.
"Shouldn't we go and look for it, Ilya?", Sasha continued to urge me anxiously.
We thought about it for a long time but decided to leave the decision to the others in the village. Trusting the Lord to guide our actions, we quickly moved on in the direction of the woodcutters to complete our task.
We were not the only ones who had seen the glow. When we returned to the village square loaded with logs, everyone was in great excitement and full of joy that the Lord had sent us this sign of His greatness. Not everyone agreed whether it was an angel or a return of the poinsettia that had been witnessed, but everyone was sure that the Lord had sent us encouragement. So, we celebrated our first Christmas full of joy and pleasure, with good food, dancing and singing, full of happiness and under the protection of the Almighty Lord. I will always think back to those days, always keep in my heart how I glimpsed a part of the Lord in the sky.
We all talked about the event and even the older people were fascinated and inspired. Even my grandfather and the others who had witnessed the worst death and misery in the world seemed to slowly find a spiritual peace they would never have dreamed of otherwise. They were happy and strengthened in their faith. However, we were not sure if it had really been an angel who had come down and so we hesitated to go and look for the creature of God.
But in the night, after the light had shone in the sky, I was awakened by Zarina crying in her sleep. I straightened up and slowly paced over to her bed, where in the semi-darkness she began to squirm, shaken by spasms.
"No, no, no..." she moaned painfully.
I began to shake her to wake her up. Zarina did not respond to me. Her face was like a distorted mask hiding something bad underneath. Her breathing became shallow, and she began to whimper. I was terrified and began to pray. The Lord had to save her, He just had to save her!
Zarina twitched more and more, started coughing and whimpering louder and louder. Slowly, the rest of the family woke up and my parents and grandfather huddled tightly around her, praying for her to open her eyes.
"Please, don't take our child! She has only been in your world for fourteen years..." my father cried, as panicked and desperate as I had ever seen before.
His thick, black mustache trembled with fear.
Then, abruptly, Zarina stopped convulsing.
For a terrible moment she just lay there, her hair disheveled, her face pale in the glow of the candle my mother held over her.
"Mom, Dad, Ilya, Grandpa... what's wrong?" she suddenly asked sleepily.
For a moment it was as if nothing had happened, as if I hadn't just seen my sister almost die, but then she began to cry.
"What's wrong, dear?" my father asked, just as pale in the face as Zarina.
It took a while before she found some calm and was able to talk to us.
Finally, she croaked:
"I saw the angel. I was with him."
A revelation? Had the Lord touched my sister?
We all said another prayer and finally, filled with awe, I asked:
"Where did you see the angel? Is it here? With us?"
She looked at me briefly, seemed to hesitate for a little moment, and then reported:
"I was with it… in a dream. It was in a white village, a village made of angel dust. I saw it. It didn't have wings and that's why at first I wasn't sure if it was an angel. However, soon it spoke to me."
"What did it say, Zarina?", I asked tensely.
"It said it was not God, but 'the Witness'. It sounded like a man and a woman and a child and a baby and... It felt peaceful. Calm and carefree. Then I woke up."
"An angel. Angels are the witnesses of God, that's how it must be!" my father said enthusiastically.
Suddenly, everyone seemed to be talking at once.
No one knew what Zarina's words meant, but we were sure that they contained something incomprehensible that we, as ordinary people, could not understand. But everyone was delighted. Everyone was caught in a beautiful dream.
The next day, the adults sat together in the large barn near the edge of the village, which was used for community events. Most of them found seats on the lined up wooden benches and the rest stood crowded against the old walls, some of which were already rotten. Dimitri, probably the closest thing to a mayor, sat at a heavy pine table at the end of the room, staring at the crowd, while my parents and Zarina sat on old chairs in front of him. Tensely, the crowd looked at them, waiting for someone to say something. Finally, Dimitri cleared his throat thoughtfully.
"You... all saw or heard about the falling star. It was brighter than the others that keep crossing our sky and much more... melodic. Some even heard the singing. Whoever still doubted that the Lord sent us his messenger... doubts are now useless. Zarina has received a vision. She has seen how the angel, who was sent by God, walked on our earth, and visited a village and consecrated it with its grace. She has seen the angel marching to spread holiness in these lands..."
"Are we sure?"
Mary, the dressmaker, had stood up. She was still young, my age and Sasha's, and she always wore her blond hair carefully braided, her dresses self-made, blood red and flashy, with silver embroidery. As always, she wore makeup - a luxury not many could afford. In other places she would have been considered a lady, but she was also a skeptical person, and I had not liked her very much since childhood, because she often made insinuations that seemed to go against the Lord. Also, she had never played with us outside and had always thought of herself as someone… better. I was shocked that she now so obviously doubted the Lord's actions.
"Mary. Zarina has seen a vision. The Lord spoke to her through her dreams! An angel has joined us. How can you deny it?" my father asked coldly.
"I'm not denying it, I'm just saying, what if there is something dark that the angel was sent to fight? What if it is going into battle against some unknown evil? The angel may be spreading sanctities, but we have no idea if it is trying to redeem us or defend us..."
"It said it was a witness of God," I noted.
"That's what Zarina said when she woke up."
"Then it is benevolent to us! We must find it!" someone shouted from one of the back rows.
An excited murmur began to spread through the room.
"Silence!" Dimitri thundered.
His face looked hard but determined.
"We have to get to it! If it is a message from heaven that the angel wants to bring us, we must hear it! How many can we spare? Who would even want to voluntarily leave the village? We don't know how long the journey will be, and you yourselves know how dangerous this area can be..."
A loud commotion broke out. Everyone shouted at once and volunteered. I also jumped up and loudly offered to go out to look for it.
The angel. The Witness of the Lord.
I imagined meeting it in a clearing, under a full moon. Hearing its bright voice, gaze in awe at its graceful form, and fall to my knees in prayer before it.
"SILENCE!" Dimitri shouted.
"You can't all go. The kids wouldn't make it in the deadly cold out there. Let seven go. Seven is the Lord's number, there must be seven! Seven workers from the fields! We can't spare any more!"
"You can't be serious!" I cried out.
Cold anger boiled up inside me.
"I want to go, too. We all want to. You can't just stand there and make a decision like that!"
Others joined in.
"SILENCE," Alexeij now thundered, the master blacksmith.
"We need you! Daniil, Ilya, Nikita, you have a job to do! We can't get by without you! You can't go, be reasonable!"
"But if the Lord wills it, he will make sure that everything here will work out. That nothing will happen!", I tried to argue, still boiling with anger.
"No. Winter is tugging at our huts, we need you," my father said slowly.
"So do the others. Without you, it's going to be tight. The fields lie under the snow, but everything else will be weakened by time and storms. We can only spare the field hands. Besides, they're the ones most likely to withstand the cold and the wilderness; after all, they're constantly out on the Fields of Death, toiling in the wind and rain. They'll all make the trip!"
I tried to change his mind, and several came to my aid, all those who were also forced to stay.
"You can manage without a dressmaker! I want to go too!" Mary cried defiantly, her cheeks red with anger, her nose wrinkled.
This young woman really believed she deserved the sight of the angel! She really believed her hypocrisies would deceive the Lord, despite her obvious doubts about His divinity!
Others also complained, young and old, many who didn't deserve to go and even those who did.
But it didn't help.
Dimitri was in charge. Everyone knew that. If we started to contradict him, our village would soon end up in chaos. And deep down I knew that I had to stay. That I had to take care of my sister, who would not survive a trip in the snow. That I had to repair the huts that the storms would eat away at.
Sasha was a field worker, he was allowed to go. Sasha and Sofia, Anatoly and old Igor, Ivan and Yulia and Mikhail. When the decision was made, a decision many of us accepted only with heavy hearts and which brought out deep envy in several faces, some of the chosen ones began to cry. They were happy, fulfilled... satisfied. They would see the messenger of the Lord, hear its melodious voice, sing its hymns.
Why wasn't I allowed to go? Why was the world so unfair? I had always believed in the Lord, prayed to Him, been subject to Him and lived according to His will. Why hadn't he chosen me to see his messenger? I had been so proud back when I had been allowed to learn the carpenter's trade and thus had not to go to the Fields of Death to toil there. At that time, I had felt like someone better when I saw Sasha and Sofia setting out early in the morning with all the other workers, with their old-fashioned plows and thick, shabby clothes.
Was this the punishment for my arrogance?
The Lord knew everything. He had seen what repulsive thoughts I had had, how superior I had felt to the others. Perhaps it was my punishment that I was not allowed to go. Perhaps the Lord was no longer favorable to me and I would have to prove myself to Him.
The next day, the seven set out north. They were seen off with singing and dancing; they were the center of the village’s attention. Envy threatened to drown me.
Why not me? Why wasn't I allowed to go? Why did I have to stay here?
And I knew: it was because of these thoughts. I wasn't pure enough. I had to get better, work on myself.
As the others disappeared from sight, as the small group seemed to be swallowed up by a patch of forest between distant trees, an icy chill ran down my spine.
What if they really did encounter evil? What if Mary had been right?
I prayed to the Lord that they would return home safely: Even the darkness will not be dark to you; the night will shine like the day, for darkness is as light to you.
He would bring them home safely, our pilgrims. I did not begrudge them their happiness. I was not a selfish person, was not complacent like Mary or some others in the village. I lived by the word of the Lord and I would not begrudge them.
They would all return home safely.
I continued to stare into the distance for a long time as my suppressed envy sought to consume me. But I was winning.
For darkness is as light to you.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Even though the days and weeks passed, I never forgot to think of all those who had set out to witness the glory of the Lord. The cold winter had passed and frost and cold left the land, so that soon we could begin to prepare the fields for sowing. Since the sighting of the angel had caused us to let some of the farm workers leave, and they stayed away longer than we had expected, I had to join others in helping to plow the Fields of Death. The work was exhausting and made me physically very tired, since I still had to work in the carpenter's shop as well. We could not afford tractors, so we still had to resort to older tools. So, it happened that one day I was driving one of the hand plows through the dirty ground and was lost in my thoughts and full of sweat.
I was quite far away from the village, as the nearby surroundings had been worked shortly after the beginning of the thaw. The fields were extensive, partly reaching further than the eye could see. Only in one direction the dense forest extended, which introduced the beginning of a dark hilly landscape, that finally merged northward into high, alien mountains, whose white peaks rose high into the sky and, like once the tower of Babel, blasphemously tried to penetrate the heavens. But next to these distant giants there was only the plain, the vast plain that had to be tilled.
I hated the field work. And I hated the fields.
Every time I even thought about this piece of hell that had become reality long ago, my stomach turned. All the events that clung to this dark place, all the human lives and suffering that had sown the ground with death and blood here many years ago....
It was even worse when you stood in the fields yourself, truly being there on your own. It was as if I could smell it in the air, the rot of the starving and the hot blood that had watered the soil. It was as if I could still hear in the air the cries and wailing of the people who had met their end here, who had pleaded for their lives and the lives of their children and friends. It was as if I could see them in the early morning fog banks that lay on the Fields of Death, the shadows of people past, crawling and cowering, weak and starved. I had to pull myself together and look away, into the forest. A place does not forget, a place always remembers the days gone by and the cries that had been.
The plow pulled through the ground, ripping a furrow behind it. It was almost a bit comforting to imagine I was gutting this place of horror with my labor, inflicting deep wounds. Hypnotized, I stared down over and over again, watching the ground swirl to one side, smelling the fresh earth being pushed to the surface. But never could I escape my terrible feelings and the forebodings, never could I forget what kind of place I was at.
The few times I looked to the forest beside me, my thoughts wandered enviously to all those who had set out to find the angel. Had they reached it yet? Had they already learned from it what needed to be done for God's power on earth to be strengthened so that false prophets and promises could be swept away? How to drown the selfishness of the state? What needed to be done to serve the Lord?
Oh, how I would have loved to be there! How I would have loved to go with them, but I also understood the decision not to send everyone, and I understood my family's objections. I was needed here. I could serve the Lord here by tilling the fields and taking care of the soil and the sowing. I had to care for my sister.
I had already made several furrows when noon came. The sun was almost not visible, just a murky spot behind the clouds, and the fog had not lifted either. The world looked pale and apathetic. But amongst all the desolation I could suddenly hear something, something that seemed to come out of the forest.
It was at first just like a rustling in the wind that sounded a bit too regular, such that it triggered a natural uneasiness in me. I looked into the forest, but could hardly make out anything through the dense plants and the still lingering fog. That is why it was left to my own thoughts to imagine what was there, what was producing this strange noise.
I could not remember any animal that made similar sounds, was at a loss.
Suddenly, a bang echoed through the forest, accompanied by a panicked scream that broke inhumanly from the trees and spread across the fields.
Then, something new joined the sounds in the air.
The trees and bushes rustled, almost seemed to be torn apart.
Something was running through the forest, something seemed to be... coming right at me.
Was it perhaps a startled bear, an elk, or a wild boar?
Had one of the hunters from the village accidentally startled an animal, scared it in the wrong direction and now wanted to warn us with their cry? But then, why this panicked sound...?
I paused, took my hands off the rusty handles of the plow, and turned toward the forest. Still, I could only see fog, I could only hear rustling, but slowly I could also make out grunts and groans coming to me from the fog. It sounded heavy and panic-stricken.
Was I in danger? I began to pray to the Lord and ask him for assistance. I was not a fighter and so I had to hope that nothing would reach me from the depths between the trees that could easily tear me apart.
Even the darkness will not be dark to you; the night will shine like the day, for darkness is as light to you.
My baptismal motto gave me courage. The Lord saw me, even in my darkness, and would be with me.
For darkness is as light to you.
Then, someone burst out of the bushes and the fog and rushed toward me.
It was Sasha.
I almost didn't recognize him. His skin was pale, almost snow-white. His black hair stuck to his sweaty face. His pants and jacket were almost completely torn, so I could see his dirty shirt and his cut and bruised legs through the holes. There were also some small cuts on his face that worried me. Sasha's eyes twitched searchingly, panicked, and in his hand, he held the rifle that he had taken with him when he had once set out. Apparently, he had run through brush and thorns, had gotten scrapes and wounds from stones and branches.
When he saw me and looked at me with his big, panic-filled eyes, I became horridly afraid.
It was as if… behind his eyes there was no Sasha anymore, but only an animal. As if instinct had taken over his thoughts when an unnamable terror had entered his world. An animal inside him, which had enabled him to escape from... something.
Sasha staggered out of the forest, it was almost as if all strength left him now that he was back home. The rifle fell from his hand and dug into the mud beneath his feet. He limped slowly toward me, not taking his eyes off me. Then, suddenly, he wheeled around and looked back into the forest and the mist.
Only for a moment.
Again, he let out a shrill scream and sprinted the last few meters. When I looked into the forest myself, I saw nothing, only the fog.
But, didn't I feel a presence there, in the bushes? Between the trees?
I didn't see anything.
Sasha had reached me and collapsed. I quickly knelt down next to him and called for help. But the other field workers had already rushed over, obviously attracted by the rifle shot. I was in a trance, seeing only Sasha lying there, supporting his head. His eyes were still twitching around and despite my proximity he didn't seem to recognize me. He looked at me, confused.
"Sasha, what happened?", I asked, feeling his forehead.
Despite his paleness, he was uncomfortably hot.
A fever raged in his body. Who knew how long he had been running around there among the trees, his protective, warming jacket torn? With wounds that had not been tended and some of which were still bleeding?
Then another horrible thought occurred to me.
"Sasha, where are the others? Sasha, where are the others?"
This question apparently brought back some clarity that his gaze had not possessed before.
"They... they took them. Took all of them... All of them. All our brothers, all our sisters... all of them," he gurgled.
*********
So, this is the first part of what I found. I will hurry to translate the rest! But I will definitely stay out of the woods for now... They are still as creepy as described by Ilya in this document and fog ist still around every morning... Also, I don't know what to make of Ilya himself as well, is he just a religious nut and that is the explanation? I just don't know...
submitted by haroldkebba to nosleep [link] [comments]
The houses here had all been far below average in price. Almost everyone who lives here has moved here recently.
But, there are crazy rumors about this village that people tell each other. It was found abandoned in the mid-nineties. Where everyone went, no one knows. They say that no signs of people were found at all, nothing. But... everywhere in and around the village… strange patches of earth had been discovered, circular and smooth. Not only in the forest or on the road, but also in the dilapidated wooden houses. At our new neighbors' house, one of the mysterious spots had supposedly been found right in the living room floor, where the floorboards had been just cut away.
These rumors scare me. I am afraid of this village. But yesterday... I was redoing the floor in my room with my father and there... I found a notebook under the old boards. I hid it from my father, I don't know why... Someone must have left it there.
Last night... that's when I read it. I read it and now I'm incredibly afraid of this house and this village. Of the fields and the woods that surround me. The notebook apparently belonged to someone called Ilya Vasiliev. I have tried to translate what he wrote, hoping that someone here can help me find an explanation for the rumors. For this uneasy feeling that I have since I moved here...
***********
I am fine. I want that to be clear from the beginning. My story is strange and in huge parts troubling, but I am still in the best state of mental health.
I am fine!
My story begins seven months ago, in December 1979, when deep winter was upon our village. We were preparing for Christmas, the first Christmas to be celebrated publicly throughout the village, after years of having to practice our faith in secret because the Soviet government did not allow religions. Only in the last few years did the Reds' view loosen and they allowed small islands of faith. One of them was my village, which finally dared to celebrate and praise the Lord.
I have been a believer all twenty years of my life, an exemplary Christian, just like my parents. Faith had kept our family line alive in times of terror and misery. Death had always been close to us, as the fields where most of the population of our village had worked for generations had once brought the end of hundreds of people. Many years ago, on those fields, atrocities had occurred that had finally given them their present name: The Fields of Death.
I myself had not been born back then, not by a long shot, but my grandparents had spent their childhood there, a childhood full of hunger and depravity. My grandfather Fomenko often told me and my sister the stories he had experienced and how faith had saved everyone. There had been a long, cold winter and the grain had been confiscated by the government to be taken to the cities for distribution. After all, the grain belonged to all the people, not just those on the farms who planted it, tended to it, and harvested it. And so, the only food of that time left my grandfather's village and never came back. Some of his neighbors had once tried to hold back some grain, to hide some sacks, but when they were caught, a hail of bullets determined their fate. People lived in fear, not daring to stop working, not daring to keep for themselves the food that was destined for the common good. In those days, horrors happened in my village that I cannot truly picture today, not even when I hear my grandfather's usually clear voice begin to tremble. When I see in his eyes that he would rather forget, in order to experience a peaceful sleep once again… someday.
He told us about those horrors to warn us of how quickly life can plunge from safety into infinite terror. Winter had reigned. The grain was being hauled away. They still shot all those who tried to keep back pieces of it, be it a sack or some husks that had fallen from a cart. In time, hunger began to drive people in our village insane. Parents locked up their children so they wouldn't be taken by neighbors to feed their hunger. Friends turned their backs on each other and killed each other in fights for the last livestock that was still breathing. The streets reeked of decay and death, of misery and suffering. One day, my grandfather told us, he had hidden in the back room of his house while his parents dragged themselves, emaciated, to the fields to pick the last scraps of grain from the furrows with their dirty, half-frozen fingers. He had come across a book there, a book that had saved his life.
The word of God. An old Bible.
My grandfather had learned to read at an early age, one of the sad advantages of living in the Soviet Union.
It was in the room I now live in that Grandfather Fomenko had found the dusty book. Actually, he had been looking for something to eat, the days before he had found some sawdust. But despite his hunger and the grumbling in his stomach, eating the book was out of the question. Books were sacred, and no book as sacred as this one. He had begun to read and learned about the greatness of the Lord. Of the miracles his Son had performed. And of the magic of faith. His stomach had growled, but he had ignored it. The words gave him comfort.
The next day he immersed himself in the book again, disappearing into better worlds and times, hearing wisdom and encouragement. But around noon there was a knock at the door. My grandfather emphasized each time that he had not been afraid, that he had known that the Lord would protect him, when the old neighbor gained entrance to our house armed with a cleaver. It was clear what he wanted: Meat. My grandfather told us each time about how the neighbor had looked more undead than human, stinking and with sunken eyes, smelling like death from his mouth, the cleaver trembling in his hand.
"I'm sorry, boy," was all the man could get out.
My grandfather tried to mimic this poor man’s voice at the end of his wits, to express his pain through words so that we understood that poor fellow a little.
The Lord's words had given courage to my grandfather in his most terrible moments. He had stood up and firmly said:
"Away with you, the Lord protects the inhabitants of this house!"
But the intruder did not care, coming closer. And so, my grandfather again sought comfort and prayed. He prayed for mercy and peace and for his life. He would serve the Lord for the rest of his days. Trust Him blindly.
Suddenly, like a gruesome miracle, the famished intruder let out an inhuman groan and collapsed, lifeless and debilitated. There had been no hunger for my grandfather and his family for a week after that. My grandfather had been praying to the Lord since that day, thanking Him for His mercy. The story spread around the village and out of desperation or hope, in the next few days everyone secretly knelt in front of small wooden crosses they had made themselves and prayed to the Lord. A week later, like a miracle, the long-awaited delivery of grain arrived, along with spring. There had not been another bad time since then.
These events are the reason for the faith in our village... and our family. The psalm my grandfather had prayed as the hungry neighbor attacked had become the guiding psalm of our faith. All these years we had not been able to celebrate Christmas with the other families, but since the restrictions on faith communities had been relaxed, we had all finally decided to celebrate the holy festival in the village square. And so, we started the preparations.
There, in those evening hours, my part of the story begins. I and my younger sister Zarina, together with other youths and young adults, were fetching wood for the fire that was to burn in the center of our village. So, we went out into the night, dressed with thick pelts, to fetch logs from the edge of the fields that some men had prepared.
My breath could be seen as an icy breeze in the dawning darkness and I was already looking forward to dancing around the fire with everyone later, drinking good drinks and eating sumptuously. I was glad that we didn't have to walk across the fields themselves, but could stroll along their edge to get the logs.
You can feel death when it has hit a place. I was glad that I didn't have to work the fields myself, and had learned the carpentry trade. Therefore, I was spared from having to wander around there every day, among the echoes of past atrocities and sadness.
We were all in good spirits, strolling over the muddy ground, when all at once Zarina pointed up and into the clear night sky.
"Look, an angel is descending!" she exclaimed excitedly.
We all looked to where her outstretched hand pointed. A round light glowed in the night sky, glaring yellowish and shining strangely cold.
"It's singing! At Christmas! The Lord puts our feast under his sign!" Zarina cried.
We stopped and listened into the silence of the night. At first, I could hear nothing, at first, everything remained quiet, and only the distant beating of axes and the rustling of the wind in the treetops were audible.
But then, there in the wind, I could hear it, briefly but clearly. It was a kind of melodic whisper, joyful, yet also strange and otherworldly. It was heard only very briefly, and soon died away as the glow flew out of sight and disappeared somewhere far away.
"Let's go find the angel! Let's..." Zarina cried, continuing excitedly, but I interrupted her.
"We have to get the wood. We can report back to the village later, if it hasn't already been noticed there too," I said.
"You heard the singing! Surely that was an angel. Shall we leave it there? It may have gotten hurt, it must have hit something!" Sasha murmured.
Sasha was my oldest friend and one of the boys who worked on the fields. He had always been very caring and had always tried to help where he could. His parents were long dead and the old lady who had raised him was no longer around, either. So, he struggled along, working the fields, but the rest of us looked out for him.
"Shouldn't we go and look for it, Ilya?", Sasha continued to urge me anxiously.
We thought about it for a long time but decided to leave the decision to the others in the village. Trusting the Lord to guide our actions, we quickly moved on in the direction of the woodcutters to complete our task.
We were not the only ones who had seen the glow. When we returned to the village square loaded with logs, everyone was in great excitement and full of joy that the Lord had sent us this sign of His greatness. Not everyone agreed whether it was an angel or a return of the poinsettia that had been witnessed, but everyone was sure that the Lord had sent us encouragement. So, we celebrated our first Christmas full of joy and pleasure, with good food, dancing and singing, full of happiness and under the protection of the Almighty Lord. I will always think back to those days, always keep in my heart how I glimpsed a part of the Lord in the sky.
We all talked about the event and even the older people were fascinated and inspired. Even my grandfather and the others who had witnessed the worst death and misery in the world seemed to slowly find a spiritual peace they would never have dreamed of otherwise. They were happy and strengthened in their faith. However, we were not sure if it had really been an angel who had come down and so we hesitated to go and look for the creature of God.
But in the night, after the light had shone in the sky, I was awakened by Zarina crying in her sleep. I straightened up and slowly paced over to her bed, where in the semi-darkness she began to squirm, shaken by spasms.
"No, no, no..." she moaned painfully.
I began to shake her to wake her up. Zarina did not respond to me. Her face was like a distorted mask hiding something bad underneath. Her breathing became shallow, and she began to whimper. I was terrified and began to pray. The Lord had to save her, He just had to save her!
Zarina twitched more and more, started coughing and whimpering louder and louder. Slowly, the rest of the family woke up and my parents and grandfather huddled tightly around her, praying for her to open her eyes.
"Please, don't take our child! She has only been in your world for fourteen years..." my father cried, as panicked and desperate as I had ever seen before.
His thick, black mustache trembled with fear.
Then, abruptly, Zarina stopped convulsing.
For a terrible moment she just lay there, her hair disheveled, her face pale in the glow of the candle my mother held over her.
"Mom, Dad, Ilya, Grandpa... what's wrong?" she suddenly asked sleepily.
For a moment it was as if nothing had happened, as if I hadn't just seen my sister almost die, but then she began to cry.
"What's wrong, dear?" my father asked, just as pale in the face as Zarina.
It took a while before she found some calm and was able to talk to us.
Finally, she croaked:
"I saw the angel. I was with him."
A revelation? Had the Lord touched my sister?
We all said another prayer and finally, filled with awe, I asked:
"Where did you see the angel? Is it here? With us?"
She looked at me briefly, seemed to hesitate for a little moment, and then reported:
"I was with it… in a dream. It was in a white village, a village made of angel dust. I saw it. It didn't have wings and that's why at first I wasn't sure if it was an angel. However, soon it spoke to me."
"What did it say, Zarina?", I asked tensely.
"It said it was not God, but 'the Witness'. It sounded like a man and a woman and a child and a baby and... It felt peaceful. Calm and carefree. Then I woke up."
"An angel. Angels are the witnesses of God, that's how it must be!" my father said enthusiastically.
Suddenly, everyone seemed to be talking at once.
No one knew what Zarina's words meant, but we were sure that they contained something incomprehensible that we, as ordinary people, could not understand. But everyone was delighted. Everyone was caught in a beautiful dream.
The next day, the adults sat together in the large barn near the edge of the village, which was used for community events. Most of them found seats on the lined up wooden benches and the rest stood crowded against the old walls, some of which were already rotten. Dimitri, probably the closest thing to a mayor, sat at a heavy pine table at the end of the room, staring at the crowd, while my parents and Zarina sat on old chairs in front of him. Tensely, the crowd looked at them, waiting for someone to say something. Finally, Dimitri cleared his throat thoughtfully.
"You... all saw or heard about the falling star. It was brighter than the others that keep crossing our sky and much more... melodic. Some even heard the singing. Whoever still doubted that the Lord sent us his messenger... doubts are now useless. Zarina has received a vision. She has seen how the angel, who was sent by God, walked on our earth, and visited a village and consecrated it with its grace. She has seen the angel marching to spread holiness in these lands..."
"Are we sure?"
Mary, the dressmaker, had stood up. She was still young, my age and Sasha's, and she always wore her blond hair carefully braided, her dresses self-made, blood red and flashy, with silver embroidery. As always, she wore makeup - a luxury not many could afford. In other places she would have been considered a lady, but she was also a skeptical person, and I had not liked her very much since childhood, because she often made insinuations that seemed to go against the Lord. Also, she had never played with us outside and had always thought of herself as someone… better. I was shocked that she now so obviously doubted the Lord's actions.
"Mary. Zarina has seen a vision. The Lord spoke to her through her dreams! An angel has joined us. How can you deny it?" my father asked coldly.
"I'm not denying it, I'm just saying, what if there is something dark that the angel was sent to fight? What if it is going into battle against some unknown evil? The angel may be spreading sanctities, but we have no idea if it is trying to redeem us or defend us..."
"It said it was a witness of God," I noted.
"That's what Zarina said when she woke up."
"Then it is benevolent to us! We must find it!" someone shouted from one of the back rows.
An excited murmur began to spread through the room.
"Silence!" Dimitri thundered.
His face looked hard but determined.
"We have to get to it! If it is a message from heaven that the angel wants to bring us, we must hear it! How many can we spare? Who would even want to voluntarily leave the village? We don't know how long the journey will be, and you yourselves know how dangerous this area can be..."
A loud commotion broke out. Everyone shouted at once and volunteered. I also jumped up and loudly offered to go out to look for it.
The angel. The Witness of the Lord.
I imagined meeting it in a clearing, under a full moon. Hearing its bright voice, gaze in awe at its graceful form, and fall to my knees in prayer before it.
"SILENCE!" Dimitri shouted.
"You can't all go. The kids wouldn't make it in the deadly cold out there. Let seven go. Seven is the Lord's number, there must be seven! Seven workers from the fields! We can't spare any more!"
"You can't be serious!" I cried out.
Cold anger boiled up inside me.
"I want to go, too. We all want to. You can't just stand there and make a decision like that!"
Others joined in.
"SILENCE," Alexeij now thundered, the master blacksmith.
"We need you! Daniil, Ilya, Nikita, you have a job to do! We can't get by without you! You can't go, be reasonable!"
"But if the Lord wills it, he will make sure that everything here will work out. That nothing will happen!", I tried to argue, still boiling with anger.
"No. Winter is tugging at our huts, we need you," my father said slowly.
"So do the others. Without you, it's going to be tight. The fields lie under the snow, but everything else will be weakened by time and storms. We can only spare the field hands. Besides, they're the ones most likely to withstand the cold and the wilderness; after all, they're constantly out on the Fields of Death, toiling in the wind and rain. They'll all make the trip!"
I tried to change his mind, and several came to my aid, all those who were also forced to stay.
"You can manage without a dressmaker! I want to go too!" Mary cried defiantly, her cheeks red with anger, her nose wrinkled.
This young woman really believed she deserved the sight of the angel! She really believed her hypocrisies would deceive the Lord, despite her obvious doubts about His divinity!
Others also complained, young and old, many who didn't deserve to go and even those who did.
But it didn't help.
Dimitri was in charge. Everyone knew that. If we started to contradict him, our village would soon end up in chaos. And deep down I knew that I had to stay. That I had to take care of my sister, who would not survive a trip in the snow. That I had to repair the huts that the storms would eat away at.
Sasha was a field worker, he was allowed to go. Sasha and Sofia, Anatoly and old Igor, Ivan and Yulia and Mikhail. When the decision was made, a decision many of us accepted only with heavy hearts and which brought out deep envy in several faces, some of the chosen ones began to cry. They were happy, fulfilled... satisfied. They would see the messenger of the Lord, hear its melodious voice, sing its hymns.
Why wasn't I allowed to go? Why was the world so unfair? I had always believed in the Lord, prayed to Him, been subject to Him and lived according to His will. Why hadn't he chosen me to see his messenger? I had been so proud back when I had been allowed to learn the carpenter's trade and thus had not to go to the Fields of Death to toil there. At that time, I had felt like someone better when I saw Sasha and Sofia setting out early in the morning with all the other workers, with their old-fashioned plows and thick, shabby clothes.
Was this the punishment for my arrogance?
The Lord knew everything. He had seen what repulsive thoughts I had had, how superior I had felt to the others. Perhaps it was my punishment that I was not allowed to go. Perhaps the Lord was no longer favorable to me and I would have to prove myself to Him.
The next day, the seven set out north. They were seen off with singing and dancing; they were the center of the village’s attention. Envy threatened to drown me.
Why not me? Why wasn't I allowed to go? Why did I have to stay here?
And I knew: it was because of these thoughts. I wasn't pure enough. I had to get better, work on myself.
As the others disappeared from sight, as the small group seemed to be swallowed up by a patch of forest between distant trees, an icy chill ran down my spine.
What if they really did encounter evil? What if Mary had been right?
I prayed to the Lord that they would return home safely: Even the darkness will not be dark to you; the night will shine like the day, for darkness is as light to you.
He would bring them home safely, our pilgrims. I did not begrudge them their happiness. I was not a selfish person, was not complacent like Mary or some others in the village. I lived by the word of the Lord and I would not begrudge them.
They would all return home safely.
I continued to stare into the distance for a long time as my suppressed envy sought to consume me. But I was winning.
For darkness is as light to you.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Even though the days and weeks passed, I never forgot to think of all those who had set out to witness the glory of the Lord. The cold winter had passed and frost and cold left the land, so that soon we could begin to prepare the fields for sowing. Since the sighting of the angel had caused us to let some of the farm workers leave, and they stayed away longer than we had expected, I had to join others in helping to plow the Fields of Death. The work was exhausting and made me physically very tired, since I still had to work in the carpenter's shop as well. We could not afford tractors, so we still had to resort to older tools. So, it happened that one day I was driving one of the hand plows through the dirty ground and was lost in my thoughts and full of sweat.
I was quite far away from the village, as the nearby surroundings had been worked shortly after the beginning of the thaw. The fields were extensive, partly reaching further than the eye could see. Only in one direction the dense forest extended, which introduced the beginning of a dark hilly landscape, that finally merged northward into high, alien mountains, whose white peaks rose high into the sky and, like once the tower of Babel, blasphemously tried to penetrate the heavens. But next to these distant giants there was only the plain, the vast plain that had to be tilled.
I hated the field work. And I hated the fields.
Every time I even thought about this piece of hell that had become reality long ago, my stomach turned. All the events that clung to this dark place, all the human lives and suffering that had sown the ground with death and blood here many years ago....
It was even worse when you stood in the fields yourself, truly being there on your own. It was as if I could smell it in the air, the rot of the starving and the hot blood that had watered the soil. It was as if I could still hear in the air the cries and wailing of the people who had met their end here, who had pleaded for their lives and the lives of their children and friends. It was as if I could see them in the early morning fog banks that lay on the Fields of Death, the shadows of people past, crawling and cowering, weak and starved. I had to pull myself together and look away, into the forest. A place does not forget, a place always remembers the days gone by and the cries that had been.
The plow pulled through the ground, ripping a furrow behind it. It was almost a bit comforting to imagine I was gutting this place of horror with my labor, inflicting deep wounds. Hypnotized, I stared down over and over again, watching the ground swirl to one side, smelling the fresh earth being pushed to the surface. But never could I escape my terrible feelings and the forebodings, never could I forget what kind of place I was at.
The few times I looked to the forest beside me, my thoughts wandered enviously to all those who had set out to find the angel. Had they reached it yet? Had they already learned from it what needed to be done for God's power on earth to be strengthened so that false prophets and promises could be swept away? How to drown the selfishness of the state? What needed to be done to serve the Lord?
Oh, how I would have loved to be there! How I would have loved to go with them, but I also understood the decision not to send everyone, and I understood my family's objections. I was needed here. I could serve the Lord here by tilling the fields and taking care of the soil and the sowing. I had to care for my sister.
I had already made several furrows when noon came. The sun was almost not visible, just a murky spot behind the clouds, and the fog had not lifted either. The world looked pale and apathetic. But amongst all the desolation I could suddenly hear something, something that seemed to come out of the forest.
It was at first just like a rustling in the wind that sounded a bit too regular, such that it triggered a natural uneasiness in me. I looked into the forest, but could hardly make out anything through the dense plants and the still lingering fog. That is why it was left to my own thoughts to imagine what was there, what was producing this strange noise.
I could not remember any animal that made similar sounds, was at a loss.
Suddenly, a bang echoed through the forest, accompanied by a panicked scream that broke inhumanly from the trees and spread across the fields.
Then, something new joined the sounds in the air.
The trees and bushes rustled, almost seemed to be torn apart.
Something was running through the forest, something seemed to be... coming right at me.
Was it perhaps a startled bear, an elk, or a wild boar?
Had one of the hunters from the village accidentally startled an animal, scared it in the wrong direction and now wanted to warn us with their cry? But then, why this panicked sound...?
I paused, took my hands off the rusty handles of the plow, and turned toward the forest. Still, I could only see fog, I could only hear rustling, but slowly I could also make out grunts and groans coming to me from the fog. It sounded heavy and panic-stricken.
Was I in danger? I began to pray to the Lord and ask him for assistance. I was not a fighter and so I had to hope that nothing would reach me from the depths between the trees that could easily tear me apart.
Even the darkness will not be dark to you; the night will shine like the day, for darkness is as light to you.
My baptismal motto gave me courage. The Lord saw me, even in my darkness, and would be with me.
For darkness is as light to you.
Then, someone burst out of the bushes and the fog and rushed toward me.
It was Sasha.
I almost didn't recognize him. His skin was pale, almost snow-white. His black hair stuck to his sweaty face. His pants and jacket were almost completely torn, so I could see his dirty shirt and his cut and bruised legs through the holes. There were also some small cuts on his face that worried me. Sasha's eyes twitched searchingly, panicked, and in his hand, he held the rifle that he had taken with him when he had once set out. Apparently, he had run through brush and thorns, had gotten scrapes and wounds from stones and branches.
When he saw me and looked at me with his big, panic-filled eyes, I became horridly afraid.
It was as if… behind his eyes there was no Sasha anymore, but only an animal. As if instinct had taken over his thoughts when an unnamable terror had entered his world. An animal inside him, which had enabled him to escape from... something.
Sasha staggered out of the forest, it was almost as if all strength left him now that he was back home. The rifle fell from his hand and dug into the mud beneath his feet. He limped slowly toward me, not taking his eyes off me. Then, suddenly, he wheeled around and looked back into the forest and the mist.
Only for a moment.
Again, he let out a shrill scream and sprinted the last few meters. When I looked into the forest myself, I saw nothing, only the fog.
But, didn't I feel a presence there, in the bushes? Between the trees?
I didn't see anything.
Sasha had reached me and collapsed. I quickly knelt down next to him and called for help. But the other field workers had already rushed over, obviously attracted by the rifle shot. I was in a trance, seeing only Sasha lying there, supporting his head. His eyes were still twitching around and despite my proximity he didn't seem to recognize me. He looked at me, confused.
"Sasha, what happened?", I asked, feeling his forehead.
Despite his paleness, he was uncomfortably hot.
A fever raged in his body. Who knew how long he had been running around there among the trees, his protective, warming jacket torn? With wounds that had not been tended and some of which were still bleeding?
Then another horrible thought occurred to me.
"Sasha, where are the others? Sasha, where are the others?"
This question apparently brought back some clarity that his gaze had not possessed before.
"They... they took them. Took all of them... All of them. All our brothers, all our sisters... all of them," he gurgled.
*********
So, this is the first part of what I found. I will hurry to translate the rest! But I will definitely stay out of the woods for now... They are still as creepy as described by Ilya in this document and fog ist still around every morning... Also, I don't know what to make of Ilya himself as well, is he just a religious nut and that is the explanation? I just don't know...
2023.06.05 15:11 INeedSuppHeheXD 22M- Looking for my passenger Princess[Relationship]
Hey there! I am a 22 year old guy, and im looking for my special someone.
I am 190cm(6'3) tall, I have short black hair, hazel eyes. In my freetime, I go to the gym, I enjoy playing video games such as league of legends, csgo, r6 siege, tf2, minecraft, and etc.) Also, I love working on my cars, going on a long car rides while listening to music. I also have 2 dogs who I enjoy petting and playing with. I go to university to be an IT Engineer 3 days a week, and to work 2 days a week.
I am a very cuddly person, very loyal, honest, and I like giving all of my attention to the person who's important for me. If we'd get closer, I'd love to spend all my freetime with you and chat/voice call a lot, listen to music together, watch videos and movies together, and hopefully develop a long lasting relationship.
Im naturally a dominant person, but we can talk about this in private.
If you'd be interested in chatting and getting to know each other, send me a message here or on discord! :) My discord is Armzii#3764
submitted by INeedSuppHeheXD to MeetPeople [link] [comments]
I am 190cm(6'3) tall, I have short black hair, hazel eyes. In my freetime, I go to the gym, I enjoy playing video games such as league of legends, csgo, r6 siege, tf2, minecraft, and etc.) Also, I love working on my cars, going on a long car rides while listening to music. I also have 2 dogs who I enjoy petting and playing with. I go to university to be an IT Engineer 3 days a week, and to work 2 days a week.
I am a very cuddly person, very loyal, honest, and I like giving all of my attention to the person who's important for me. If we'd get closer, I'd love to spend all my freetime with you and chat/voice call a lot, listen to music together, watch videos and movies together, and hopefully develop a long lasting relationship.
Im naturally a dominant person, but we can talk about this in private.
If you'd be interested in chatting and getting to know each other, send me a message here or on discord! :) My discord is Armzii#3764
2023.06.05 15:11 INeedSuppHeheXD 22M- Looking for my passenger Princess
Hey there! I am a 22 year old guy, and im looking for my special someone.
I am 190cm(6'3) tall, I have short black hair, hazel eyes. In my freetime, I go to the gym, I enjoy playing video games such as league of legends, csgo, r6 siege, tf2, minecraft, and etc.) Also, I love working on my cars, going on a long car rides while listening to music. I also have 2 dogs who I enjoy petting and playing with. I go to university to be an IT Engineer 3 days a week, and to work 2 days a week.
I am a very cuddly person, very loyal, honest, and I like giving all of my attention to the person who's important for me. If we'd get closer, I'd love to spend all my freetime with you and chat/voice call a lot, listen to music together, watch videos and movies together, and hopefully develop a long lasting relationship.
Im naturally a dominant person, but we can talk about this in private.
If you'd be interested in chatting and getting to know each other, send me a message here or on discord! :)
submitted by INeedSuppHeheXD to MakeNewFriendsHere [link] [comments]
I am 190cm(6'3) tall, I have short black hair, hazel eyes. In my freetime, I go to the gym, I enjoy playing video games such as league of legends, csgo, r6 siege, tf2, minecraft, and etc.) Also, I love working on my cars, going on a long car rides while listening to music. I also have 2 dogs who I enjoy petting and playing with. I go to university to be an IT Engineer 3 days a week, and to work 2 days a week.
I am a very cuddly person, very loyal, honest, and I like giving all of my attention to the person who's important for me. If we'd get closer, I'd love to spend all my freetime with you and chat/voice call a lot, listen to music together, watch videos and movies together, and hopefully develop a long lasting relationship.
Im naturally a dominant person, but we can talk about this in private.
If you'd be interested in chatting and getting to know each other, send me a message here or on discord! :)
2023.06.05 15:10 badassbisexualbitch Help me ME community, you're my only hope
Star Wars jokes aside, I really do need help.
I'm running Legendary Edition on PC through Steam and the EA app, with imported saves from the first two games. No mods, either. Never could quite figure those out. I got all the way to the start of the beam run in ME3, the heroic music was swelling, I was holding back tears-and then my game crashed.
Now, when I try to open the game, I have a problem. Starting a new game for ME1 and ME2? Works fine. Clicking Resume or Start for ME3? I get taken to the loading screen with omniblade Shep in front of the earth, the screen flashes quickly to my homescreen before going to the gray planet and freezing. After several seconds of freeze, the game crashes and the launcher automatically reopens.
I have tried everything and the kitchen sink. Restarting, reinstalling, checking for corrupted files, updating the EA app, and several more things I can't think of names for. Out of all of those, deleting my Steam save and keeping the local files is the only thing that has done anything. Unfortunately, that thing is altering the crash so that when I click on Resume, the screen turns black and I'm redirected to the launcher. When I click Start, the same bug happens as detailed above. A new and improved way for me to tear my hair out, I suppose.
At this point, I have three options.
Option one, bite the bullet and restart the game. While it's fun enough that I don't mind replaying it with Asteria (my Shep), I have no guarantees the same bug won't pop up if I get to the beam again.
Option two, google the ending, delete my save files, and start Andromeda. That seems like cheating to me, but it won't have me do several hours of gameplay over again. Although, if anything from ME3 carries over to Andromeda then I'm SOL.
Option three, ask you lovely people for help.
I'm hoping to go with option three. The first two options are on the table, but I'd prefer not to do them if I don't have to. If any advice could be offered, no matter if it works or not, I would be very grateful.
submitted by badassbisexualbitch to masseffect [link] [comments]
I'm running Legendary Edition on PC through Steam and the EA app, with imported saves from the first two games. No mods, either. Never could quite figure those out. I got all the way to the start of the beam run in ME3, the heroic music was swelling, I was holding back tears-and then my game crashed.
Now, when I try to open the game, I have a problem. Starting a new game for ME1 and ME2? Works fine. Clicking Resume or Start for ME3? I get taken to the loading screen with omniblade Shep in front of the earth, the screen flashes quickly to my homescreen before going to the gray planet and freezing. After several seconds of freeze, the game crashes and the launcher automatically reopens.
I have tried everything and the kitchen sink. Restarting, reinstalling, checking for corrupted files, updating the EA app, and several more things I can't think of names for. Out of all of those, deleting my Steam save and keeping the local files is the only thing that has done anything. Unfortunately, that thing is altering the crash so that when I click on Resume, the screen turns black and I'm redirected to the launcher. When I click Start, the same bug happens as detailed above. A new and improved way for me to tear my hair out, I suppose.
At this point, I have three options.
Option one, bite the bullet and restart the game. While it's fun enough that I don't mind replaying it with Asteria (my Shep), I have no guarantees the same bug won't pop up if I get to the beam again.
Option two, google the ending, delete my save files, and start Andromeda. That seems like cheating to me, but it won't have me do several hours of gameplay over again. Although, if anything from ME3 carries over to Andromeda then I'm SOL.
Option three, ask you lovely people for help.
I'm hoping to go with option three. The first two options are on the table, but I'd prefer not to do them if I don't have to. If any advice could be offered, no matter if it works or not, I would be very grateful.
2023.06.05 15:06 CharlieBravoTango Help me find this game please !
Hey, I'm french (sorry if I make some mistakes), I'm not used to this subreddit, but I juste remember a game of which I remember a let's play on a french YouTube channel, I thought it was superbrioche but it's not I checked all of his videos and I have a +18 account. I remember that you controlled a young women in a world where the artstyle is really like black and white, but not completely, the main character was blond really clear almost white with long hair, there was a thing going on with a cat, there was another character really close the the main character which was in opposition to her visually, dress almost totally in black, it was a 3d game,u could move your character freely in the world (I think) and so for the camera. if I had to give a period where I saw the video and so the release of the game I would say around 2015/2017. It could be a french game I have no idea. I may have given some false informations I'm really not sure of my memories, if it rings a bell to anyone, or if you have the answer it would really help me! Thank you for trying to help or just reading this !
submitted by CharlieBravoTango to videogames [link] [comments]
2023.06.05 15:04 xox0_mars Can we actually stop these type of remarks?
 | submitted by xox0_mars to TaylorRussellUpdates [link] [comments] |
2023.06.05 14:53 twocantherapper What Does The Watcher In The Windows Want?
Hey everyone, I'm writing this post because I need to share what happened to me last week. I've been trying to make sense of it all, but honestly, I feel like every time I start to understand, I end up more confused and terrified. I don't know if any of you have experienced anything similar, or even if you'll believe me, but I have to get this out there. I work... Nah, I WORKED for a security firm that specializes in reviewing security footage for libraries and museums across the globe. I loved it, honestly, because I've always been a fan of history and literature, and the job allows me to work from home, which is a huge plus.
Pretty standard gig really - outsourced security, means these places don't have to pay for many night-guards and the like. If there's an alarm triggered we have the on-hand team to notify the cops. My job was to review footage after the event if something had indeed gone down.
Anyway, let me get to the point. Last week, something really fucking fucked happened. I was going through my usual routine, checking the specialist software that automatically alerts me of any suspicious activity in the libraries and museums we cover. Out of nowhere, every single alert went off at the same time. I'm talking dozens of museums and libraries, all around the world. It was insane. At first, I thought it had to be some kind of glitch, so we rebooted the system to see if that would fix the issue. I was then asked to review some of the footage, just in case, even though it seemed impossible that every museum and library could have been broken into simultaneously.
That's when things got really fucking weird.
As I went through the footage, I started to notice something. There was a brief glimpse or a shade of something in each video, lasting only a few frames. It was present in literally every feed I checked, multiple instances in the same buildings and all. I had to slow some of the footage down to spot it, but eventually, I realized it was present in every single video, at the exact moment the impossible simultaneous alerts came in.
The figure... I don't even know how to describe it, but it sure as hell wasn't human. It was vaguely human-like in appearance, wearing an old-time gray suit like something they'd wear in Peaky Blinders of Boardwalk Empire, but there was something deeply unsettling about it. Instead of a human head, this thing had a giant ear where its face should be. The ear was grotesquely proportioned, far too large for the relatively thin body it was attached to. The earlobe hung low, almost touching the creature's collar, and the outer ear was twisted and gnarled, like the tumorous roots of an ancient dead tree.
It was the details of the ear, though, that really got to me. The skin was a sickly pale shade, like a corpse left to rot in the moonlight. It was covered in a network of pulsating veins, so dark they almost looked black in contrast to the pallor of the skin - like they'd been tattooed on by the most sadistic tattoo artist in history. The worming capillaries seemed to throb with a sinister energy, as if they were channeling some unholy power. The inner ear was even worse. It was a cavernous abyss of darkness, a swirling vortex that seemed to suck in the light around it, threatening to swallow everything whole. There were no hairs, no ridges; just pure, unadulterated darkness.
I couldn't tear my eyes away from the figure as it loomed in the footage, and the more I stared, the more uneasy I felt. It was like my sanity was slowly eroding, crumbling away in the face of something so unnatural and terrifying. My heart raced, and my hands shook as I tried to keep my focus, but it was impossible. The sheer wrongness of the figure's existence was like a weight on my chest, making it difficult to breathe. I could feel my mind starting to fracture, splintering under the pressure of trying to comprehend something that simply should not exist.
The strangest part, though, was that the figure seemed to be aware of my presence, even through the screen. It was as if the monstrous ear was somehow listening to me, attuned to my every thought and fear. The more I watched, the more I felt an overwhelming sense of dread creeping in, like I was being consumed by some ancient, malevolent force that had set its sights on me.
I knew what it wanted, too, somehow. It was looking for something, something it didn't have but should - and was furious about it.
That fury… I felt it only for the briefest moment, but it was enough to make me know no human being in history knows what true anger is. Our minds simply deep enough to hold such rage.
I knew I had to do something. I couldn't just sit there and let this thing destroy me. So, I sent an email to my boss, attaching screenshots and explaining everything I'd seen. I hoped that maybe they would have some answers, or at least be able to tell me that I wasn't losing my mind. But I never got a response.
The next morning, I woke up to find that the company I worked for had seemingly vanished from the internet. All the downloaded videos that showed the ear-faced being were gone too, as if they had never existed. I couldn't find any trace of my employer, or any record of the security footage I'd been reviewing the night before. It was like the entire ordeal had been wiped clean from existence.
I'm terrified, not just because of what I saw, but because I don't know what this means for me. I'd worked at that place for five years, and it's just vanished. None of my team are in LinkedIn anymore, or any socials (not that I was close enough to follow them, but I knew where they were - where they still should be). What if the ear-man got them? What if it was the government? Did I stumble upon something I wasn't supposed to see? Are there consequences for having witnessed this fucking thing? What does it want?
I've spent the last week researching and trying to understand what I encountered. I've pieced together bits of information from ancient texts and obscure forums, but I've got nothing. I don't know if there's any way to protect myself from the being or the consequences of having seen it. I don't know if I'll ever be able to forget the twisted visage of that monstrous ear, or the way it seemed to reach into the very depths of my soul.
I do know that I can't keep this to myself any longer. I need to share my story, in the hopes that someone out there might understand, maybe even explain what this fucking thing is and why I keep seeing its eyeless gaze on me from at least one window on every street I've walked down since.
submitted by twocantherapper to nosleep [link] [comments]
Pretty standard gig really - outsourced security, means these places don't have to pay for many night-guards and the like. If there's an alarm triggered we have the on-hand team to notify the cops. My job was to review footage after the event if something had indeed gone down.
Anyway, let me get to the point. Last week, something really fucking fucked happened. I was going through my usual routine, checking the specialist software that automatically alerts me of any suspicious activity in the libraries and museums we cover. Out of nowhere, every single alert went off at the same time. I'm talking dozens of museums and libraries, all around the world. It was insane. At first, I thought it had to be some kind of glitch, so we rebooted the system to see if that would fix the issue. I was then asked to review some of the footage, just in case, even though it seemed impossible that every museum and library could have been broken into simultaneously.
That's when things got really fucking weird.
As I went through the footage, I started to notice something. There was a brief glimpse or a shade of something in each video, lasting only a few frames. It was present in literally every feed I checked, multiple instances in the same buildings and all. I had to slow some of the footage down to spot it, but eventually, I realized it was present in every single video, at the exact moment the impossible simultaneous alerts came in.
The figure... I don't even know how to describe it, but it sure as hell wasn't human. It was vaguely human-like in appearance, wearing an old-time gray suit like something they'd wear in Peaky Blinders of Boardwalk Empire, but there was something deeply unsettling about it. Instead of a human head, this thing had a giant ear where its face should be. The ear was grotesquely proportioned, far too large for the relatively thin body it was attached to. The earlobe hung low, almost touching the creature's collar, and the outer ear was twisted and gnarled, like the tumorous roots of an ancient dead tree.
It was the details of the ear, though, that really got to me. The skin was a sickly pale shade, like a corpse left to rot in the moonlight. It was covered in a network of pulsating veins, so dark they almost looked black in contrast to the pallor of the skin - like they'd been tattooed on by the most sadistic tattoo artist in history. The worming capillaries seemed to throb with a sinister energy, as if they were channeling some unholy power. The inner ear was even worse. It was a cavernous abyss of darkness, a swirling vortex that seemed to suck in the light around it, threatening to swallow everything whole. There were no hairs, no ridges; just pure, unadulterated darkness.
I couldn't tear my eyes away from the figure as it loomed in the footage, and the more I stared, the more uneasy I felt. It was like my sanity was slowly eroding, crumbling away in the face of something so unnatural and terrifying. My heart raced, and my hands shook as I tried to keep my focus, but it was impossible. The sheer wrongness of the figure's existence was like a weight on my chest, making it difficult to breathe. I could feel my mind starting to fracture, splintering under the pressure of trying to comprehend something that simply should not exist.
The strangest part, though, was that the figure seemed to be aware of my presence, even through the screen. It was as if the monstrous ear was somehow listening to me, attuned to my every thought and fear. The more I watched, the more I felt an overwhelming sense of dread creeping in, like I was being consumed by some ancient, malevolent force that had set its sights on me.
I knew what it wanted, too, somehow. It was looking for something, something it didn't have but should - and was furious about it.
That fury… I felt it only for the briefest moment, but it was enough to make me know no human being in history knows what true anger is. Our minds simply deep enough to hold such rage.
I knew I had to do something. I couldn't just sit there and let this thing destroy me. So, I sent an email to my boss, attaching screenshots and explaining everything I'd seen. I hoped that maybe they would have some answers, or at least be able to tell me that I wasn't losing my mind. But I never got a response.
The next morning, I woke up to find that the company I worked for had seemingly vanished from the internet. All the downloaded videos that showed the ear-faced being were gone too, as if they had never existed. I couldn't find any trace of my employer, or any record of the security footage I'd been reviewing the night before. It was like the entire ordeal had been wiped clean from existence.
I'm terrified, not just because of what I saw, but because I don't know what this means for me. I'd worked at that place for five years, and it's just vanished. None of my team are in LinkedIn anymore, or any socials (not that I was close enough to follow them, but I knew where they were - where they still should be). What if the ear-man got them? What if it was the government? Did I stumble upon something I wasn't supposed to see? Are there consequences for having witnessed this fucking thing? What does it want?
I've spent the last week researching and trying to understand what I encountered. I've pieced together bits of information from ancient texts and obscure forums, but I've got nothing. I don't know if there's any way to protect myself from the being or the consequences of having seen it. I don't know if I'll ever be able to forget the twisted visage of that monstrous ear, or the way it seemed to reach into the very depths of my soul.
I do know that I can't keep this to myself any longer. I need to share my story, in the hopes that someone out there might understand, maybe even explain what this fucking thing is and why I keep seeing its eyeless gaze on me from at least one window on every street I've walked down since.
2023.06.05 14:49 kiplet1 [City of Roses] no. 27.1: the Blue room – Bottles & Cartons & Tubs & Boxes
![[City of Roses] no. 27.1: the Blue room – Bottles & Cartons & Tubs & Boxes](https://external-preview.redd.it/qYRyXUWWQABRdxlpUwAdHKEY2WTFbpJX4iX5eV6evSw.jpg?width=640&crop=smart&auto=webp&s=c3d3d20ce92d53d951021fdc145ae09b16cbff40 "[City of Roses] no. 27.1: the Blue room – Bottles & Cartons & Tubs & Boxes") | Patreon submitted by kiplet1 to redditserials [link] [comments] previous Table of Contents tends to crumble The room is blue, and dark, and very quiet. At the foot of the pallet mounded with white pillows under the angled ceilings he’s sitting, and dark hair eaves his shoulders, a great beard brushes his chest, his back and upper arms are hatched with more hair curling with the curves of sagging muscle, down to his thick round waist. His legs are folded tailor-fashion, bare feet tucked under bare thighs, hands held loosely open on his knees, his cock a-jut, tip of it darkly swollen, glistening, there before his thick-furred paunch. Mustache wide in a simple smile beneath eyes simply, gently closed, there between his beard, his hair, serenely still, so very quiet. Explosions rip the television screen, chatter of gunfire, Angels comin thick an fast Sarge, and the guy on the beanbag leans back and forth, thumbs and fingers frantically working the controller in his lap. The view on the screen wheels, jerks, dials and meters in the corners whirling, flashing, galloping along in a tight-packed herd of wildly colored centaurs, garish pastel zebra stripes, neon leopard spots, Appaloosa rainbows, all wrapped in khaki saddlebags, human torsos draped in bandoliers, big guns in their outsized hands, Get to cover! Under the cable! Your six, your six! and another explosion. “Shit!” he yelps, tap-tapping, laughing, “Shit!” Over across the room a woman’s headed toward a grand dark staircase, and the other man in the room looks away from the screen, starts after her, “Ellen,” he says, dodging around a dark wood column, “hey, Ellen, wait up.” She stops, a couple steps up, looks down at him. “How long, exactly,” he says, “is he gonna be staying here,” and he points, up the stairs, past her. She shrugs. More explosions, more gunfire, the guy on the beanbag whoops. “Long as he needs,” she says. Her black hair spiky short, the inky lace of tattoos edging the collar of her running shirt. “It’s just,” he says, at the foot of the stairs, tall and heavyset, cardigan blue. “The occasional overnight guest is one thing, but – ” “My room, my friend, my business,” she says. “You won’t even know he’s there, Dan, unless you go out of your way.” The loudest explosion yet, and “Shit!” yells the guy on the beanbag. The television’s gone red. She’s turning to climb the stairs. “Ellen!” says the man in the blue cardigan, starting up, “Ellen, he was, what the hell was he doing, wearing my shirt?” She looks down at him again, and maybe shrugs. “Looks better on him,” she says, and up she goes, up another flight, up under the very peak of the house. At the end of a cramped hall a door, cut at an angle the top to fit the slope of the roof. The door to that blue room opens, and she steps in, a shadow dressed in black, flashes of silver piping, “Phil?” she says. “You’re, ah, oh.” Stretching out a foot to prod the black huddle of a discarded suit, there on the floor by the door. Splash of yellow within, and blue and white, a rumpled aloha shirt. “Hungry?” she says. “I was gonna go for phở.” Still in the doorway, hand on the jamb. “Did you want some?” Creak of a floorboard as she steps back, out into the hall. “I’ll bring some back,” she says. “You’re welcome to half the bed, if you need it.” The door swings shut. The latch clicks, quietly. • Rattle of glass, yellow bin in his hands, blue letters along the side say Portland Recycles! Clang and clink he sets it down, chock full of bottles, brown glass and green, clear, four or five of them wine bottles long and slender, the rest soda bottles, beer. Squatting he pulls out a wide-mouthed jar, the label mostly torn away, and holds it up in the light. “Fuck,” he says, setting it down. Smacks it, topples it, sends it rolling a hollow rumble away down the linoleum clunk against the wall. “Fuck,” he says, again, rattle and clink, and “shit,” and then “damn.” Over by the floor-length curtains a brown and green sleeping bag, someone in it, rolling over, a voice, sleep-muzzled, “What.” “Bits,” he says, “of pickle,” waving a hand, and dark hair swings about the shoulders of his warm-up jacket, blue and grey. “So rinse it?” The sleeping bag hunches and flops open, whoever’s in it sitting up, a woman, wrapped in a puffy pink and orange parka. “Why should I,” he’s saying, “why couldn’t they,” and he shoves the bin, a chiming crash. “We’ll just have to get some. Bread-and-butter pickles. Trader Joe’s.” “You want to,” she says, and she’s pinching the bridge of her nose, “you want to buy a new jar of pickles, and, what, eat them all, or throw them out, and the rinse the jar, because you don’t want to rinse the jar?” “The label on that one,” he says, and then “dammit! It’s the perfect size.” Stomping the length of the room to snatch up the jar, and then through the door. Clomp and clatter, a squawking wrench, the rush of water. She sighs, crawls out of the sleeping bag, long yellow hair a-dangle from the parka’s fur-lined hood. She slips on a couple of red canvas shoes and heads off carefully through the garbage strewn across the floor, more bottles, empty, all sizes and colors, glass and plastic, quart-sized cartons and half-gallon cartons and little pints and half-pints, cereal boxes and pasta boxes stacked and wrapped together with blue masking tape and black friction tape, towering masts of emptied rolls of plastic wrap and toilet paper, paper towels, plastic tubs tall and squatly broad, whole ranks of them that say Nancy’s in letters of various hues, all laid out in a relatively tidy grid, narrow paths between and through them all where she places her feet, aglets of her undone laces clacking against the floor, until she reaches a wide cleared curl of an aisle of sorts, edges marked with long strips of more blue tape. He’s at the sink, fiercely scrubbing the jar, “Basic civic duty,” he’s saying, “think of other people, come on.” Slamming the jar on the counter by a dozen or more empty jars and bottles, scrubbed clean, gleaming. Yanking the faucet to shut off the water. “Luke,” she’s saying, “Luke,” and he looks up to see her there, hands stuffed in the pockets of her parka. “The hell you wearing that for,” he says, scooping wet shreds of label from the sink. “It’s freezing,” she says. “You know why it’s cold,” he says, dropping the mess plop in a swollen garbage bag that yawns there on the floor. “So I’m wearing this.” “You look ridiculous.” He shakes the slop off his hand. “There’s still a smell,” she says. He’s headed past her, out of the kitchen. “Luke,” she says, following, “Luke. We’re gonna need – ” “Don’t,” he says, kneeling by an untidy patch of garbage. “We’re gonna need money,” she says. “Rent. The fifth. It’s next week.” “We’re always,” says Luke, “gonna need,” plucking up a cereal box, “so get a job,” he says, grabbing another, a clownishly colored bird on the front of it. “I had a job,” she says. “Jessie,” he says, “don’t, just,” and he looks up, a shrug. “Your sister’s gonna be here soon. Right? So maybe she’ll have something for you. For us.” “My,” says Jessie, frowning. “Luke, now is not the – ” “Don’t,” he says, leaning over to place one of the boxes right next to a yellow plastic jug. https://preview.redd.it/87pqqbf7j64b1.png?width=35&format=png&auto=webp&s=1b5613905bd8048ca8edd473abee4b8febe0df55 previous Table of Contents Patreon |
2023.06.05 14:46 coopersushi specifically asked for my hair to be golden and NOT ashy- then she made my hair look GREY and charged $245 for a color. should i request a refund?
here are pictures before and after, plus the inspiration picture i showed her: https://imgur.com/a/TbDnWlo
TLDR: - told receptionist to make sure she booked me for enough time with my stylist for back-to-back foils for bleach because i have long hair and last time it took hours - i asked stylist to make my hair golden and NOT ASHY - she does my hair. she says there wasn’t enough time for bleach and to “give her a heads up next time” so she just put a color in my hair. charged $245 for color and asked for a tip - my hair looks further away from the inspiration picture than when i came in. my hair was already golden when i came in. she made it look ashy and grey. it’s the exact opposite of what i wanted. she books me for 2 weeks later for the actual bleaching session i originally wanted…
it’s been a month so i scheduled the next session. i tried to communicate with the receptionist that i have long hair and last time we did back-to-back foils of bleach. i even asked if she was sure there was enough time because i was there for hours last time. “yes, there’s definitely enough time”
i show up the the appointment at 11:00am thinking i will be there for 6 hours getting another bleach session to go even lighter. i show the inspo picture. i say “i want it to be golden- i DON’T want it to be ashy”. 2 stylists look at the inspo pic- one of them even says to her “wow it looks like she has NO toner in there at all”
they put me in the chair. they talk to each other in the background about lightening my hair for 15 minutes and doing a “pre-toner” and keeping the warmth. i think everything’s fine. after 1 hour and a half they start blow-drying my hair. no foils were done. no bleach was done. i was like “that’s weird, how am i done already”
i look in the mirror. i see my hair is GREY. ashy. it already looked golden before i came into the appointment- and they did the OPPOSITE of what i wanted. it looks even darker then when i came in. my hair looked more like the inspo picture BEFORE.
i literally want to cry. they ask to take pictures for their instagram and i let them. the stylist says “next time you have to give me a heads up before you come in because to get you lighter it would take HOURS”. i’m so confused because i already told receptionist it would take hours of back to back foils and i asked the receptionist to make sure there was enough time. the stylist said “we just did a color today so it shouldn’t be too much”.
i want to cry in the salon but i’m thinking “okay it’s just color- it shouldn’t be too much maybe $80”. then they said $245. she asks for the tip so i tip her 15% on the ipad. i book an appointment with her for two weeks for the ACTUAL bleaching session i wanted. i go cry in my car because now i have ugly grey hair for 2 weeks and wasted nearly $300 for hair that i hate and think is ugly.
i feel scammed almost because she could’ve just told me “sorry we don’t have time today, can you come in 2 weeks?” but instead she put color in my hair that i DIDNT want and made my hair look the OPPOSITE of what i wanted
submitted by coopersushi to beauty [link] [comments]
TLDR: - told receptionist to make sure she booked me for enough time with my stylist for back-to-back foils for bleach because i have long hair and last time it took hours - i asked stylist to make my hair golden and NOT ASHY - she does my hair. she says there wasn’t enough time for bleach and to “give her a heads up next time” so she just put a color in my hair. charged $245 for color and asked for a tip - my hair looks further away from the inspiration picture than when i came in. my hair was already golden when i came in. she made it look ashy and grey. it’s the exact opposite of what i wanted. she books me for 2 weeks later for the actual bleaching session i originally wanted…
- she should’ve told me “sorry there’s not enough time today, can you come in 2 weeks?” but instead she put a color that i didn’t even want and now i have to try and wash it out in the shower. and i lost nearly $300. for hair i think is ugly
it’s been a month so i scheduled the next session. i tried to communicate with the receptionist that i have long hair and last time we did back-to-back foils of bleach. i even asked if she was sure there was enough time because i was there for hours last time. “yes, there’s definitely enough time”
i show up the the appointment at 11:00am thinking i will be there for 6 hours getting another bleach session to go even lighter. i show the inspo picture. i say “i want it to be golden- i DON’T want it to be ashy”. 2 stylists look at the inspo pic- one of them even says to her “wow it looks like she has NO toner in there at all”
they put me in the chair. they talk to each other in the background about lightening my hair for 15 minutes and doing a “pre-toner” and keeping the warmth. i think everything’s fine. after 1 hour and a half they start blow-drying my hair. no foils were done. no bleach was done. i was like “that’s weird, how am i done already”
i look in the mirror. i see my hair is GREY. ashy. it already looked golden before i came into the appointment- and they did the OPPOSITE of what i wanted. it looks even darker then when i came in. my hair looked more like the inspo picture BEFORE.
i literally want to cry. they ask to take pictures for their instagram and i let them. the stylist says “next time you have to give me a heads up before you come in because to get you lighter it would take HOURS”. i’m so confused because i already told receptionist it would take hours of back to back foils and i asked the receptionist to make sure there was enough time. the stylist said “we just did a color today so it shouldn’t be too much”.
i want to cry in the salon but i’m thinking “okay it’s just color- it shouldn’t be too much maybe $80”. then they said $245. she asks for the tip so i tip her 15% on the ipad. i book an appointment with her for two weeks for the ACTUAL bleaching session i wanted. i go cry in my car because now i have ugly grey hair for 2 weeks and wasted nearly $300 for hair that i hate and think is ugly.
i feel scammed almost because she could’ve just told me “sorry we don’t have time today, can you come in 2 weeks?” but instead she put color in my hair that i DIDNT want and made my hair look the OPPOSITE of what i wanted
2023.06.05 14:45 coopersushi specifically asked for my hair to be golden and NOT ashy- then she made my hair look GREY and charged $245 for a color. should i request a refund?
here are pictures before and after, plus the inspiration picture i showed her: https://imgur.com/a/TbDnWlo
TLDR: - told receptionist to make sure she booked me for enough time with my stylist for back-to-back foils for bleach because i have long hair and last time it took hours - i asked stylist to make my hair golden and NOT ASHY - she does my hair. she says there wasn’t enough time for bleach and to “give her a heads up next time” so she just put a color in my hair. charged $245 for color and asked for a tip - my hair looks further away from the inspiration picture than when i came in. my hair was already golden when i came in. she made it look ashy and grey. it’s the exact opposite of what i wanted. she books me for 2 weeks later for the actual bleaching session i originally wanted…
it’s been a month so i scheduled the next session. i tried to communicate with the receptionist that i have long hair and last time we did back-to-back foils of bleach. i even asked if she was sure there was enough time because i was there for hours last time. “yes, there’s definitely enough time”
i show up the the appointment at 11:00am thinking i will be there for 6 hours getting another bleach session to go even lighter. i show the inspo picture. i say “i want it to be golden- i DON’T want it to be ashy”. 2 stylists look at the inspo pic- one of them even says to her “wow it looks like she has NO toner in there at all”
they put me in the chair. they talk to each other in the background about lightening my hair for 15 minutes and doing a “pre-toner” and keeping the warmth. i think everything’s fine. after 1 hour and a half they start blow-drying my hair. no foils were done. no bleach was done. i was like “that’s weird, how am i done already”
i look in the mirror. i see my hair is GREY. ashy. it already looked golden before i came into the appointment- and they did the OPPOSITE of what i wanted. it looks even darker then when i came in. my hair looked more like the inspo picture BEFORE.
i literally want to cry. they ask to take pictures for their instagram and i let them. the stylist says “next time you have to give me a heads up before you come in because to get you lighter it would take HOURS”. i’m so confused because i already told receptionist it would take hours of back to back foils and i asked the receptionist to make sure there was enough time. the stylist said “we just did a color today so it shouldn’t be too much”.
i want to cry in the salon but i’m thinking “okay it’s just color- it shouldn’t be too much maybe $80”. then they said $245. she asks for the tip so i tip her 15% on the ipad. i book an appointment with her for two weeks for the ACTUAL bleaching session i wanted. i go cry in my car because now i have ugly grey hair for 2 weeks and wasted nearly $300 for hair that i hate and think is ugly.
i feel scammed almost because she could’ve just told me “sorry we don’t have time today, can you come in 2 weeks?” but instead she put color in my hair that i DIDNT want and made my hair look the OPPOSITE of what i wanted
submitted by coopersushi to HairDye [link] [comments]
TLDR: - told receptionist to make sure she booked me for enough time with my stylist for back-to-back foils for bleach because i have long hair and last time it took hours - i asked stylist to make my hair golden and NOT ASHY - she does my hair. she says there wasn’t enough time for bleach and to “give her a heads up next time” so she just put a color in my hair. charged $245 for color and asked for a tip - my hair looks further away from the inspiration picture than when i came in. my hair was already golden when i came in. she made it look ashy and grey. it’s the exact opposite of what i wanted. she books me for 2 weeks later for the actual bleaching session i originally wanted…
- she should’ve told me “sorry there’s not enough time today, can you come in 2 weeks?” but instead she put a color that i didn’t even want and now i have to try and wash it out in the shower. and i lost nearly $300. for hair i think is ugly
it’s been a month so i scheduled the next session. i tried to communicate with the receptionist that i have long hair and last time we did back-to-back foils of bleach. i even asked if she was sure there was enough time because i was there for hours last time. “yes, there’s definitely enough time”
i show up the the appointment at 11:00am thinking i will be there for 6 hours getting another bleach session to go even lighter. i show the inspo picture. i say “i want it to be golden- i DON’T want it to be ashy”. 2 stylists look at the inspo pic- one of them even says to her “wow it looks like she has NO toner in there at all”
they put me in the chair. they talk to each other in the background about lightening my hair for 15 minutes and doing a “pre-toner” and keeping the warmth. i think everything’s fine. after 1 hour and a half they start blow-drying my hair. no foils were done. no bleach was done. i was like “that’s weird, how am i done already”
i look in the mirror. i see my hair is GREY. ashy. it already looked golden before i came into the appointment- and they did the OPPOSITE of what i wanted. it looks even darker then when i came in. my hair looked more like the inspo picture BEFORE.
i literally want to cry. they ask to take pictures for their instagram and i let them. the stylist says “next time you have to give me a heads up before you come in because to get you lighter it would take HOURS”. i’m so confused because i already told receptionist it would take hours of back to back foils and i asked the receptionist to make sure there was enough time. the stylist said “we just did a color today so it shouldn’t be too much”.
i want to cry in the salon but i’m thinking “okay it’s just color- it shouldn’t be too much maybe $80”. then they said $245. she asks for the tip so i tip her 15% on the ipad. i book an appointment with her for two weeks for the ACTUAL bleaching session i wanted. i go cry in my car because now i have ugly grey hair for 2 weeks and wasted nearly $300 for hair that i hate and think is ugly.
i feel scammed almost because she could’ve just told me “sorry we don’t have time today, can you come in 2 weeks?” but instead she put color in my hair that i DIDNT want and made my hair look the OPPOSITE of what i wanted
2023.06.05 14:44 phuzx123 My scalp is dry, but it sweat and thinning, no dandruff.
My english is not good, i will try at my best
Little background, i used to have thick black hair when iam still young ( about 12 years old). I used to have a lot of compliment about my hair and i used to proud about that.
"moving time", when i am 16 years old, i got complent that i have a bald spot, which at my crown, but i did borther that. Until my hair was thinning overall on the head ( thinning on the left side, and my top head, but on the right side is still fine, no thinning spot). My hair at that time was shed a lot, i was freaking out, told my mom take me to doctor, and the doctor give some medical like vitamin, zinc,( increase blood??), biotin. They told me i have poor nutrition and it's fine.
The thing i want to tell that my hair didnt grown back to normal. It's still thinning and no sign of regrown. I feel sad about that. My mom and grandfather are thinning the same spot as me ( wonder if it's the cause, gene).
Untill now, i still have the same volume wwhen iam 16 years old ( now iam 21).
About my hair: Dry scalp, getting oil when i dont use shampoo Dont lose much hair anymore( about 50 hairs a day, yes i counted) My hair dont have a sign of regrown I usually have kind of burning, hot at my thinning spot and getting sweat easily too ( you know, burning and sweat at my left crown and over the head) Sometime i got nerve, scaring people would see my thinning, and it's bad and it's made me sweat even more My family no one bald, just thinning hair and only on my mom's family ( i dont know what it call in english, hope you understand).
I used to wanky wanky my little franky a lot at that time, from 12 years old to 18 years old, i know it's not a good habit, still want to overcame this bad habit, my streak now is one week if you ask, thinking maybe it's the cause.
So anyone have the same situation like me. Thinning at very young, no regrowth, burning scalp with no dandruff, sweat oil and dry both scalp and hair.
My hair look slightly normal if it is cut short.
Edit: (sorry about my english) iam a boy btw
Edit2: i can take a photo of my hair if you want to see or need more infomation
Thanks you very munchh
submitted by phuzx123 to HaircareScience [link] [comments]
Little background, i used to have thick black hair when iam still young ( about 12 years old). I used to have a lot of compliment about my hair and i used to proud about that.
"moving time", when i am 16 years old, i got complent that i have a bald spot, which at my crown, but i did borther that. Until my hair was thinning overall on the head ( thinning on the left side, and my top head, but on the right side is still fine, no thinning spot). My hair at that time was shed a lot, i was freaking out, told my mom take me to doctor, and the doctor give some medical like vitamin, zinc,( increase blood??), biotin. They told me i have poor nutrition and it's fine.
The thing i want to tell that my hair didnt grown back to normal. It's still thinning and no sign of regrown. I feel sad about that. My mom and grandfather are thinning the same spot as me ( wonder if it's the cause, gene).
Untill now, i still have the same volume wwhen iam 16 years old ( now iam 21).
About my hair: Dry scalp, getting oil when i dont use shampoo Dont lose much hair anymore( about 50 hairs a day, yes i counted) My hair dont have a sign of regrown I usually have kind of burning, hot at my thinning spot and getting sweat easily too ( you know, burning and sweat at my left crown and over the head) Sometime i got nerve, scaring people would see my thinning, and it's bad and it's made me sweat even more My family no one bald, just thinning hair and only on my mom's family ( i dont know what it call in english, hope you understand).
I used to wanky wanky my little franky a lot at that time, from 12 years old to 18 years old, i know it's not a good habit, still want to overcame this bad habit, my streak now is one week if you ask, thinking maybe it's the cause.
So anyone have the same situation like me. Thinning at very young, no regrowth, burning scalp with no dandruff, sweat oil and dry both scalp and hair.
My hair look slightly normal if it is cut short.
Edit: (sorry about my english) iam a boy btw
Edit2: i can take a photo of my hair if you want to see or need more infomation
Thanks you very munchh
2023.06.05 14:39 Army_unistar Anyone who also hates when webtoon translators change name?
Like I really love how the author gives thier character name with so much thoughts. And some translatora change these name to same random common names like ben/ David. I HATE IT. We know how to read a name 😭
Like if you tell me a specific name given my author, i will know them but tell me David ,, all I know is like 3 characters with the same name. ALL Black hair rich mc.
Btw it's not that it's a English name, but the og name given to the characters are always special and good. Whether its korean/chinese/japanese/ English/others . The author thought a lot so please don't change it.
Same goes to, when people change the relationship while translating, in korean webtoons it's always given as hyung/ unnie/ noona/ oppa/ ahjussi/ name- sshi
But they change it to thier names like, mc's bro/bro's friend will call her as a noona, which is honestly cute. But they change it to her name. It losses the emotion right there. Like we all know what noona means, even If we doesnt know adding * to it and giving the meaning is so much better. And important words too like a in some webtoon, leads have a special relationship when mc calls them as saem (teacher) , it's a important to mention how they call them, like don't just put thier name there 😭😭😭 here ends my rant.
submitted by Army_unistar to webtoons [link] [comments]
Like if you tell me a specific name given my author, i will know them but tell me David ,, all I know is like 3 characters with the same name. ALL Black hair rich mc.
Btw it's not that it's a English name, but the og name given to the characters are always special and good. Whether its korean/chinese/japanese/ English/others . The author thought a lot so please don't change it.
Same goes to, when people change the relationship while translating, in korean webtoons it's always given as hyung/ unnie/ noona/ oppa/ ahjussi/ name- sshi
But they change it to thier names like, mc's bro/bro's friend will call her as a noona, which is honestly cute. But they change it to her name. It losses the emotion right there. Like we all know what noona means, even If we doesnt know adding * to it and giving the meaning is so much better. And important words too like a in some webtoon, leads have a special relationship when mc calls them as saem (teacher) , it's a important to mention how they call them, like don't just put thier name there 😭😭😭 here ends my rant.
2023.06.05 14:38 coopersushi specifically asked for my hair to be golden and NOT ashy- then she made my hair look GREY and charged $245 for a color. should i request a refund?
here are pictures before and after, plus the inspiration picture i showed her: https://imgur.com/a/TbDnWlo
TLDR: - told receptionist to make sure she booked me for enough time with my stylist for back-to-back foils for bleach because i have long hair and last time it took hours - i asked stylist to make my hair golden and NOT ASHY - she does my hair. she says there wasn’t enough time for bleach and to “give her a heads up next time” so she just put a color in my hair. charged $245 for color and asked for a tip - my hair looks further away from the inspiration picture than when i came in. my hair was already golden when i came in. she made it look ashy and grey. it’s the exact opposite of what i wanted. she books me for 2 weeks later for the actual bleaching session i originally wanted…
it’s been a month so i scheduled the next session. i tried to communicate with the receptionist that i have long hair and last time we did back-to-back foils of bleach. i even asked if she was sure there was enough time because i was there for hours last time. “yes, there’s definitely enough time”
i show up the the appointment at 11:00am thinking i will be there for 6 hours getting another bleach session to go even lighter. i show the inspo picture. i say “i want it to be golden- i DON’T want it to be ashy”. 2 stylists look at the inspo pic- one of them even says to her “wow it looks like she has NO toner in there at all”
they put me in the chair. they talk to each other in the background about lightening my hair for 15 minutes and doing a “pre-toner” and keeping the warmth. i think everything’s fine. after 1 hour and a half they start blow-drying my hair. no foils were done. no bleach was done. i was like “that’s weird, how am i done already”
i look in the mirror. i see my hair is GREY. ashy. it already looked golden before i came into the appointment- and they did the OPPOSITE of what i wanted. it looks even darker then when i came in. my hair looked more like the inspo picture BEFORE.
i literally want to cry. they ask to take pictures for their instagram and i let them. the stylist says “next time you have to give me a heads up before you come in because to get you lighter it would take HOURS”. i’m so confused because i already told receptionist it would take hours of back to back foils and i asked the receptionist to make sure there was enough time. the stylist said “we just did a color today so it shouldn’t be too much”.
i want to cry in the salon but i’m thinking “okay it’s just color- it shouldn’t be too much maybe $80”. then they said $245. she asks for the tip so i tip her 15% on the ipad. i book an appointment with her for two weeks for the ACTUAL bleaching session i wanted. i go cry in my car because now i have ugly grey hair for 2 weeks and wasted nearly $300 for hair that i hate and think is ugly.
i feel scammed almost because she could’ve just told me “sorry we don’t have time today, can you come in 2 weeks?” but instead she put color in my hair that i DIDNT want and made my hair look the OPPOSITE of what i wanted
submitted by coopersushi to Hair [link] [comments]
TLDR: - told receptionist to make sure she booked me for enough time with my stylist for back-to-back foils for bleach because i have long hair and last time it took hours - i asked stylist to make my hair golden and NOT ASHY - she does my hair. she says there wasn’t enough time for bleach and to “give her a heads up next time” so she just put a color in my hair. charged $245 for color and asked for a tip - my hair looks further away from the inspiration picture than when i came in. my hair was already golden when i came in. she made it look ashy and grey. it’s the exact opposite of what i wanted. she books me for 2 weeks later for the actual bleaching session i originally wanted…
- she should’ve told me “sorry there’s not enough time today, can you come in 2 weeks?” but instead she put a color that i didn’t even want and now i have to try and wash it out in the shower. and i lost nearly $300. for hair i think is ugly
it’s been a month so i scheduled the next session. i tried to communicate with the receptionist that i have long hair and last time we did back-to-back foils of bleach. i even asked if she was sure there was enough time because i was there for hours last time. “yes, there’s definitely enough time”
i show up the the appointment at 11:00am thinking i will be there for 6 hours getting another bleach session to go even lighter. i show the inspo picture. i say “i want it to be golden- i DON’T want it to be ashy”. 2 stylists look at the inspo pic- one of them even says to her “wow it looks like she has NO toner in there at all”
they put me in the chair. they talk to each other in the background about lightening my hair for 15 minutes and doing a “pre-toner” and keeping the warmth. i think everything’s fine. after 1 hour and a half they start blow-drying my hair. no foils were done. no bleach was done. i was like “that’s weird, how am i done already”
i look in the mirror. i see my hair is GREY. ashy. it already looked golden before i came into the appointment- and they did the OPPOSITE of what i wanted. it looks even darker then when i came in. my hair looked more like the inspo picture BEFORE.
i literally want to cry. they ask to take pictures for their instagram and i let them. the stylist says “next time you have to give me a heads up before you come in because to get you lighter it would take HOURS”. i’m so confused because i already told receptionist it would take hours of back to back foils and i asked the receptionist to make sure there was enough time. the stylist said “we just did a color today so it shouldn’t be too much”.
i want to cry in the salon but i’m thinking “okay it’s just color- it shouldn’t be too much maybe $80”. then they said $245. she asks for the tip so i tip her 15% on the ipad. i book an appointment with her for two weeks for the ACTUAL bleaching session i wanted. i go cry in my car because now i have ugly grey hair for 2 weeks and wasted nearly $300 for hair that i hate and think is ugly.
i feel scammed almost because she could’ve just told me “sorry we don’t have time today, can you come in 2 weeks?” but instead she put color in my hair that i DIDNT want and made my hair look the OPPOSITE of what i wanted
2023.06.05 14:34 RedditorWithClass Do people in this sub not understand that different people like different things?
Over the past week or so, I've seen several posts asking something along the lines of "Do people like [xyz]?" or "Do people think [xyz] is ugly?"
And earlier today, I seen this post, which essentially said that all twinks like muscular guys.
Do people in this sub not understand that everybody is different, and likes different things?
You can't group everyone together and say they all like the same things, or dislike the same things.
Some people like skinny guys, some people like cubby guys. Some people like black hair, some people like orange hair. Some people like tall guys, some people like short guys. Some people like white people, some people like Asian people. Some people like brown eyes, some people like blue eyes.
I'm sure you get my point. There is never a "one size fits all" answer.
submitted by RedditorWithClass to askgaybros [link] [comments]
And earlier today, I seen this post, which essentially said that all twinks like muscular guys.
Do people in this sub not understand that everybody is different, and likes different things?
You can't group everyone together and say they all like the same things, or dislike the same things.
Some people like skinny guys, some people like cubby guys. Some people like black hair, some people like orange hair. Some people like tall guys, some people like short guys. Some people like white people, some people like Asian people. Some people like brown eyes, some people like blue eyes.
I'm sure you get my point. There is never a "one size fits all" answer.
Everybody is different and likes different things.
What you think is sexy, somebody else might think is completely repulsive. And vice versa, what somebody else thinks is hot, you might think is the ugliest thing in the world.2023.06.05 14:34 Paladin-Pilot-07 [OC] Open to Ideas to Finish My Paladin
Sorry I’m advance for the long post. I’m a first time player and not a super creative one at that, but my friends invited me to a session, so I made a character. I’m stuck on some parts and I’d appreciate any and all suggestions to finish him. Some details I already have: His name is Daniel Kahne, a human Paladin. He stands at 5’11” and 200 lbs, with short, black hair and a full stubble. He came from an upper class family as a prodigy and natural leader where he was ready to be handed the keys to the kingdom, (so to speak). He was kidnapped by some alchemists at age 18 and experimented on to enhance his physical abilities (a la Captain America). He was put in command of an elite unit of fighters for the royal family, but his power gave him a sense of arrogance that caused him to overestimate himself. He decided to face the oncoming enemy alone and got his ass royally handed to him. Incapacitated, he had to watch as his comrades died in gruesome ways as he was helpless. He’s since taken on a crusade to avenge his fellows from his mistakes.
It’s rough, but I don’t know how to put that into the world of DnD, since I don’t know locations and all that. I also can’t decide what his Oath will be, his abilities and archetypes, or weapon preferences and proficiencies. I’ll gladly accept any ideas! (PS, if anybody has any Commission Artist recommendations, that would be great too)
submitted by Paladin-Pilot-07 to DnD [link] [comments]
It’s rough, but I don’t know how to put that into the world of DnD, since I don’t know locations and all that. I also can’t decide what his Oath will be, his abilities and archetypes, or weapon preferences and proficiencies. I’ll gladly accept any ideas! (PS, if anybody has any Commission Artist recommendations, that would be great too)
2023.06.05 14:32 chilliwog 35 [M4F] #NYC/ Anywhere - I’m 6’4” and no I don’t play basketball [relationship]
Please be single. After a couple of messages I'd like to swap face pics. It's nice to put a face to the woman I'm chatting with. I’m looking for a friend or more and open to meeting up in the future. Here's a bit about me:
-Single
-Loves to travel
-Open to new things
-Gamer (mostly video games but board games are cool too!)
-Foodie
-Enjoy watching shows on Disney+/Netflix/Hulu especially Mandalorian and The Last of Us!
-Also likes cuddles and hanging out with special ladies! Physical details: 6’4" Short black hair, glasses, bearded, slender, White/Asian
submitted by chilliwog to MeetPeople [link] [comments]
-Single
-Loves to travel
-Open to new things
-Gamer (mostly video games but board games are cool too!)
-Foodie
-Enjoy watching shows on Disney+/Netflix/Hulu especially Mandalorian and The Last of Us!
-Also likes cuddles and hanging out with special ladies! Physical details: 6’4" Short black hair, glasses, bearded, slender, White/Asian
2023.06.05 14:30 _METALEX [English > Japanese] please translate character profile description
Owarino Last are an alien and Supreme Leader of the Stars from the Lastaroid who are currently traveling to Earth for the purpose of studying human culture. Because their spaceship will take a while to reach the solar system, they decided to become a Virtual YouTuber in the meantime. They enjoy hosting gaming, chat, singing streams, and occasionally something different.
They have the appearance of a tall human with an androgynous-like body, pale skin, a slim figure, long, multicolored hair with a black color outside and a gradient purple inside that reaches their knees, and a heterochromia with the left eye being red and the right eye being emerald green in color, which is covered by an emo bang. Owarino Last has a cheerful and charismatic leadership persona and are aiming for the top of the world. They have respect for humans, who are also dedicated to fulfilling their dreams. As a seasoned monarch, they are very talkative, to the point of being self-conscious about it. Despite being the most powerful being in their homeworld, they are kind and dislike violence. Smart and adventurous, they like solving puzzles, discovering hidden secrets, and challenging themselves with something new. Views themselves as cool and are surprised when someone calls them cute. Has a bit of a tsundere side to them.
2023.06.05 14:29 onceuponabeauty Weekly Best Sellers (06/05 - 6/11)
Discover what our fam sold out last week! Don't miss out on the trendiest brands in Seoul!
SKINFOOD : Rice Daily Brightening Scrub Foam 150ml - Exfoliating is the game - $9.00
SOME BY MI : AHA, BHA, PHA 30 Days Miracle Toner 150ml - Pureness and honesty for natural beauty - $24.00
The Potions : Revitalizer; Vitamin B12 Ampoule - Strengthen the skin's barrier - $14.50
Haruharuwonder : Black Rice Bakuchiol Eye Cream 20ml - Create that youthful look - $24.00
House of Dohwa : Rice Bran Sunscreen - No need to worry about whitecast - $32.00
submitted by onceuponabeauty to Coreelle [link] [comments]
SKINFOOD : Rice Daily Brightening Scrub Foam 150ml - Exfoliating is the game - $9.00
SOME BY MI : AHA, BHA, PHA 30 Days Miracle Toner 150ml - Pureness and honesty for natural beauty - $24.00
The Potions : Revitalizer; Vitamin B12 Ampoule - Strengthen the skin's barrier - $14.50
Haruharuwonder : Black Rice Bakuchiol Eye Cream 20ml - Create that youthful look - $24.00
House of Dohwa : Rice Bran Sunscreen - No need to worry about whitecast - $32.00
2023.06.05 14:20 coopersushi specifically asked for my hair to be golden and NOT ashy- then she made my hair look GREY and charged $245 for a color. should i request a refund?
here are pictures before and after, plus the inspiration picture i showed her: https://imgur.com/a/TbDnWlo
TLDR: - told receptionist to make sure she booked me for enough time with my stylist for back-to-back foils for bleach because i have long hair and last time it took hours - i asked stylist to make my hair golden and NOT ASHY - she does my hair. she says there wasn’t enough time for bleach and to “give her a heads up next time” so she just put a color in my hair. charged $245 for color and asked for a tip - my hair looks further away from the inspiration picture than when i came in. my hair was already golden when i came in. she made it look ashy and grey. it’s the exact opposite of what i wanted. she books me for 2 weeks later for the actual bleaching session i originally wanted…
it’s been a month so i scheduled the next session. i tried to communicate with the receptionist that i have long hair and last time we did back-to-back foils of bleach. i even asked if she was sure there was enough time because i was there for hours last time. “yes, there’s definitely enough time”
i show up the the appointment at 11:00am thinking i will be there for 6 hours getting another bleach session to go even lighter. i show the inspo picture. i say “i want it to be golden- i DON’T want it to be ashy”. 2 stylists look at the inspo pic- one of them even says to her “wow it looks like she has NO toner in there at all”
they put me in the chair. they talk to each other in the background about lightening my hair for 15 minutes and doing a “pre-toner” and keeping the warmth. i think everything’s fine. after 1 hour and a half they start blow-drying my hair. no foils were done. no bleach was done. i was like “that’s weird, how am i done already”
i look in the mirror. i see my hair is GREY. ashy. it already looked golden before i came into the appointment- and they did the OPPOSITE of what i wanted. it looks even darker then when i came in. my hair looked more like the inspo picture BEFORE.
i literally want to cry. they ask to take pictures for their instagram and i let them. the stylist says “next time you have to give me a heads up before you come in because to get you lighter it would take HOURS”. i’m so confused because i already told receptionist it would take hours of back to back foils and i asked the receptionist to make sure there was enough time. the stylist said “we just did a color today so it shouldn’t be too much”.
i want to cry in the salon but i’m thinking “okay it’s just color- it shouldn’t be too much maybe $80”. then they said $245. she asks for the tip so i tip her 15% on the ipad. i book an appointment with her for two weeks for the ACTUAL bleaching session i wanted. i go cry in my car because now i have ugly grey hair for 2 weeks and wasted nearly $300 for hair that i hate and think is ugly.
i feel scammed almost because she could’ve just told me “sorry we don’t have time today, can you come in 2 weeks?” but instead she put color in my hair that i DIDNT want and made my hair look the OPPOSITE of what i wanted
submitted by coopersushi to AskAProHairStylist [link] [comments]
TLDR: - told receptionist to make sure she booked me for enough time with my stylist for back-to-back foils for bleach because i have long hair and last time it took hours - i asked stylist to make my hair golden and NOT ASHY - she does my hair. she says there wasn’t enough time for bleach and to “give her a heads up next time” so she just put a color in my hair. charged $245 for color and asked for a tip - my hair looks further away from the inspiration picture than when i came in. my hair was already golden when i came in. she made it look ashy and grey. it’s the exact opposite of what i wanted. she books me for 2 weeks later for the actual bleaching session i originally wanted…
- she should’ve told me “sorry there’s not enough time today, can you come in 2 weeks?” but instead she put a color that i didn’t even want and now i have to try and wash it out in the shower. and i lost nearly $300. for hair i think is ugly
it’s been a month so i scheduled the next session. i tried to communicate with the receptionist that i have long hair and last time we did back-to-back foils of bleach. i even asked if she was sure there was enough time because i was there for hours last time. “yes, there’s definitely enough time”
i show up the the appointment at 11:00am thinking i will be there for 6 hours getting another bleach session to go even lighter. i show the inspo picture. i say “i want it to be golden- i DON’T want it to be ashy”. 2 stylists look at the inspo pic- one of them even says to her “wow it looks like she has NO toner in there at all”
they put me in the chair. they talk to each other in the background about lightening my hair for 15 minutes and doing a “pre-toner” and keeping the warmth. i think everything’s fine. after 1 hour and a half they start blow-drying my hair. no foils were done. no bleach was done. i was like “that’s weird, how am i done already”
i look in the mirror. i see my hair is GREY. ashy. it already looked golden before i came into the appointment- and they did the OPPOSITE of what i wanted. it looks even darker then when i came in. my hair looked more like the inspo picture BEFORE.
i literally want to cry. they ask to take pictures for their instagram and i let them. the stylist says “next time you have to give me a heads up before you come in because to get you lighter it would take HOURS”. i’m so confused because i already told receptionist it would take hours of back to back foils and i asked the receptionist to make sure there was enough time. the stylist said “we just did a color today so it shouldn’t be too much”.
i want to cry in the salon but i’m thinking “okay it’s just color- it shouldn’t be too much maybe $80”. then they said $245. she asks for the tip so i tip her 15% on the ipad. i book an appointment with her for two weeks for the ACTUAL bleaching session i wanted. i go cry in my car because now i have ugly grey hair for 2 weeks and wasted nearly $300 for hair that i hate and think is ugly.
i feel scammed almost because she could’ve just told me “sorry we don’t have time today, can you come in 2 weeks?” but instead she put color in my hair that i DIDNT want and made my hair look the OPPOSITE of what i wanted
2023.06.05 14:13 vampiros1 34 [M4M] UK looking for an extroverted guy to help me out of my introvert shell ( and maybe more)
Well, what can I say here?
Hi! I’m 34 from the UK. I’m here looking for anywhere in the world who would like to chat and maybe more
I'm a normal, kind of guy, brown guy, black hair, brown eyes, 5'11, salt and pepper thing going on, kinda hairy chest, I have a full time job and like what I do.
Just to put it out there I am pretty curious, I have experimented with guys and enjoyed it however it was a while ago and probably didn't fully appreciate it fully. I haven't done anything with a guy since, though I very frequently fantasize about it and, I'll be honest, there are moments when I seek a connection with a guy.
However I find it difficult to interact with males I don't know well. And males I do know well, as friends, I don't feel comfortable thinking about sexually. I'm also pretty nervous about trying this stuff again, but since it's sexually appealing to me, I don't want to let any of that hold me back. I really want to do what I think I'd enjoy doing.
So... If you can handle someone who is nice, interactive at times, intelligent, fun and sincere, who will probably be nervous and uncharacteristically shy around a potential male sexual partner, I'd be happy to talk. I'll even give you hints on cracking my man-shell: I adore physical affection and respond very well to it.
If I sound like someone you could have some fun with, send me a message.
submitted by vampiros1 to phlgbtr4r [link] [comments]
Hi! I’m 34 from the UK. I’m here looking for anywhere in the world who would like to chat and maybe more
I'm a normal, kind of guy, brown guy, black hair, brown eyes, 5'11, salt and pepper thing going on, kinda hairy chest, I have a full time job and like what I do.
Just to put it out there I am pretty curious, I have experimented with guys and enjoyed it however it was a while ago and probably didn't fully appreciate it fully. I haven't done anything with a guy since, though I very frequently fantasize about it and, I'll be honest, there are moments when I seek a connection with a guy.
However I find it difficult to interact with males I don't know well. And males I do know well, as friends, I don't feel comfortable thinking about sexually. I'm also pretty nervous about trying this stuff again, but since it's sexually appealing to me, I don't want to let any of that hold me back. I really want to do what I think I'd enjoy doing.
So... If you can handle someone who is nice, interactive at times, intelligent, fun and sincere, who will probably be nervous and uncharacteristically shy around a potential male sexual partner, I'd be happy to talk. I'll even give you hints on cracking my man-shell: I adore physical affection and respond very well to it.
If I sound like someone you could have some fun with, send me a message.
2023.06.05 13:57 hellO_india Suggest me some razor based on my experience
I have used the Pearl L55 old version and it has been amazing for me, I have also used the Pearl ss01, which is mild,
I did NOT like the mild one much after trying both alternatively for a few weeks,
Now that I have given the L55 to my dad who liked it so much, pls suggest me some alternative, considering that we cannot get the old L55 anymore.
I want something that is equal or slightly less aggressive than the L55 and should be efficient like L55.
Should I try Romer 7 Viceroy as its widely discussed here? or try the new version L55 which also seems to have good reviews here. Any other suggestions are also welcome.
I shave once in 3 days and have thick hair. I liked using winner black blades with L55. I have been DE shaving since 5 months now, my technique has improved a lot and never get nicks or burns.
submitted by hellO_india to Wetshavers_India [link] [comments]
I did NOT like the mild one much after trying both alternatively for a few weeks,
Now that I have given the L55 to my dad who liked it so much, pls suggest me some alternative, considering that we cannot get the old L55 anymore.
I want something that is equal or slightly less aggressive than the L55 and should be efficient like L55.
Should I try Romer 7 Viceroy as its widely discussed here? or try the new version L55 which also seems to have good reviews here. Any other suggestions are also welcome.
I shave once in 3 days and have thick hair. I liked using winner black blades with L55. I have been DE shaving since 5 months now, my technique has improved a lot and never get nicks or burns.