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RE:World America Review - June 20 - June 27 2026
... Checked in, and off to bed we went. I will say, ... aft balcony and secret stairs that lead up to the ... If you can, take the stairs when manageable. If not, just ...and as mentioned above, The Loft is just a quirky setup. ... this ship is beautiful and with full sailing and upwards of ...norm. We will definitely book with MSC again as we feel ...adult and I definitely agree with this. You are old enough ...
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boards.cruisecritic.com |
hyerpraise |
Jul 8, 2026 |
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RE:Reflecting heat from Velux windows
...when I go to bed, back windows almost completely shut, ... I have a Velux (with no blind) above the stairs to the loft so this area gets very ...warm. I do similar on the ground and first floor too, but with doors open... and the only part of the house that has been uncomfortably warm is the stairs going up to the loft.
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www.pistonheads.com |
wiggy001 |
Jun 29, 2026 |
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Moving to his own room?
... fall back asleep with our son in our bed. He has a... our bedroom is like a loft (the only room on the... the very bottom of the stairs is our son's room. I'm ... crib is right by our bed in our room. But if ... and just fall back asleep with him in our bed especially since we won't be...
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community.whattoexpect.com |
ftmdue2025 |
Jun 27, 2026 |
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RE:Mental weather thread
... chimney rather than faff about with window kits If we can... was not ventilation in the loft/roof space. It was regularly ... of hours before going to bed. The difference was massive. It ... certainly wouldn't want to sleep with it on, or whilst watching ... getting it up and down stairs, but it's OK wheeling it ...
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fontgeek.io |
gamingdave |
Jun 22, 2026 |
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RE:Crowne Plaza Sydney Macquarie Park (Master Thread)
We had selected a room with 2 Double Beds, of which ... with Balcony and King Loft Suite as possible upgrades for rooms with 1 Bed.... Inside the room was a printed card with my... were shown to a table with no cutlery and left to... is up the fire escape stairs, passing dusty air conditioning exhaust...
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www.flyertalk.com |
:D! |
Jun 21, 2026 |
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RE:The Sullivan Family #61 We're proud people, don't you know, but I've linked our PayPal down below 🤑
... have a large 6 bed house with a basement.I am elderly... (very)still living with me are 3 adult former... stuff over the years. Ttoday with help I started in the... would make me seriously depressed with all those plastic boxes and... old but we’ve cleared the loft entirely, got the essentials only... that massive cupboard under the stairs, why aren’t they using that? ...
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tattle.life |
armywife119 |
Jun 2, 2026 |
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Re: Where to stay
...) between the bedrooms along with 3 full baths. The... loft suites, which have a king bed on the main floor along with ...a separate bath, and stairs that leads to a loft area with... two double beds and a second bath. They’re nice but come with a... through Costco or directly with a member gives you the ... at the Presidente with a separate alcove we entered ...
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www.tripadvisor.com |
Spartans1995 |
Jun 2, 2026 |
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RE:The Socially Anxious Singularity(Cyberpunk SI/OC-ish)
...the central administrative loft, the atmosphere was thick with a strange mixture... V walking down the stairs safe, sound, and in one ..., to sit by the bed, you know? But those desk-cholos ... definitive corporate execution order. With a NET-breaking file like this ... began to violently spike with unauthorized external diagnostic pings. "And ... floor of the medical stairs, his leather shoes slipping into ...
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forums.spacebattles.com |
sp4rtan12 |
May 30, 2026 |
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RE:Lonely Girl
... led me to the loft. As with my patrol, I walked through... turn. "Someone's in the loft." Brian sighed, angry, and Lisa ...Besides, if someone's in the loft, you think your dog shelters ...of. A swarm clone, sitting with only the back of its head visible to the stairs. More bugs gathered around them. ...my steps back to the loft, but I knew deep down ...yet. I sat on the bed, waiting for the most important ...
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forums.spacebattles.com |
The_Broken-Heart |
May 25, 2026 |
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RE:Lonely Girl
... led me to the loft. As with my patrol, I walked through... turn. "Someone's in the loft." Brian sighed, angry, and Lisa ...Besides, if someone's in the loft, you think your dog shelters ...of. A swarm clone, sitting with only the back of its head visible to the stairs. More bugs gathered around them. ...my steps back to the loft, but I knew deep down ...yet. I sat on the bed, waiting for the most important ...
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forums.spacebattles.com |
The_Broken-Heart |
May 25, 2026 |
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RE:Apartments in Budapest
... minute to xyz major sites” with a grain of salt. Things... are quite a few “loft” apartments where the bed is upstairs - as I... a large old building with a great exterior and grand stairs (even if I... VII after a first experience with noise. And I have only ...
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community.ricksteves.com |
TexasTravelMom |
May 23, 2026 |
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RE:Really struggling whether to do a loft extension or buy a bigger place. Need the opinion of others!
... be sure in advance that with a loft conversion you will get a... has an ensuite bathroom. The stairs are configured in a way ... main house is a 3 bed semi and a bit wider .... So was perfect for a loft conversion. However neighbours with a more traditional inter war ... and a hipped roof) have loft conversions and you can hardly ...
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forums.moneysavingexpert.com |
Albermarle |
May 8, 2026 |
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RE:Last Son of Viltrum (Marvel/Invincible Crossover)
... oak door in another, with a comfortable bed and nightstand just a few... nearby stairs. Despite the unfamiliar situation, Peter's curiosity vanished, replaced instantly with alertness... master? Was that who this loft belonged to? "Then why did ... apparent host took up the stairs. Despite his senses remaining calm, ... life, friendly conversations and hangouts with friends, his internship at Stark ...
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forums.spacebattles.com |
moneyman15 |
Apr 21, 2026 |
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RE:Deadpool!Lisa [Crack]
...as Krouse tumbled down the stairs ass-over-teakettle. Taylor appeared on the ...Luke carried Jess down the stairs while Mars hovered nervously. "I ...," Lisa hummed thoughtfully. The loft was getting a bit crowded, ...She still wanted, like, a bed and stuff. So needy. Taylor ...really, actually. Huh. You'd think, with all the combinations and permutations, ... me and Taylor in bed last night, either," Lisa said ...
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forums.spacebattles.com |
camo30209 |
Apr 11, 2026 |
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RE:Deadpool!Lisa [Crack]
...as Krouse tumbled down the stairs ass-over-teakettle. Taylor appeared on the ...Luke carried Jess down the stairs while Mars hovered nervously. "I ...," Lisa hummed thoughtfully. The loft was getting a bit crowded, ...She still wanted, like, a bed and stuff. So needy. Taylor ...really, actually. Huh. You'd think, with all the combinations and permutations, ... me and Taylor in bed last night, either," Lisa said ...
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forums.spacebattles.com |
camo30209 |
Apr 11, 2026 |
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RE:Warframe: Earth-Bet Protocol
... person." He hopped off the bed, landing silently. He looked her ... at the top of the stairs when she finally stepped out, ... her personal apartment inside the loft, shutting the door firmly behind ... tossed the phone onto the bed without responding, watching it bounce. ... on the edge of her bed, her eyes wide. She was ... their seemingly impenetrable armor. And with them watching the Undersiders, waiting ...
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forums.spacebattles.com |
InhumanMan |
Apr 10, 2026 |
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RE:Warframe: Earth-Bet Protocol
... person." He hopped off the bed, landing silently. He looked her ... at the top of the stairs when she finally stepped out, ... her personal apartment inside the loft, shutting the door firmly behind ... tossed the phone onto the bed without responding, watching it bounce. ... on the edge of her bed, her eyes wide. She was ... their seemingly impenetrable armor. And with them watching the Undersiders, waiting ...
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forums.spacebattles.com |
InhumanMan |
Apr 10, 2026 |
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I'm thinking about getting a loft bed to free up space, but I don't know if my 11 year old dog will be able to get up the stairs in the future.
My dog is eleven years old, and he's an English sheep dog poodle mix. He's my absolute world, and is an emotional support dog for me. I want to be able to free up space in my room, but I also want to make sure he has the ability to still be able to get up onto my bed, as he sleeps with me to soothe my anxiety. Now, he's a very active dog, very agile. But he struggles getting up onto my bed currently, which is only 2 ½ feet off the ground. I'm wondering if getting a loft bed with stairs will help him, and if he'll still be able to get up them as he ages? submitted by /u/RATCRUNCH420 to r/DOG [link] [comments]
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r/DOG |
RATCRUNCH420 |
Jun 23, 2026 |
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Hi! I'm thinking about getting a loft bed, but I have a 11 year old dog. He's a big English sheep dog poodle mix, will he be able to get over these stairs in the future?
He's a very active dog, he's my entire world, and I've had him since I was pretty young. My issue is, I want a loft bed to free up space... But I also want my dog to be able to get up onto my bed, as he sleeps with me to soothe my anxiety. His senior years are slowly approaching, and even if he's a very active dog, I worry. I wanna know if he can get up these stairs, as he gets older. He already struggles with getting up on my bed, and needs a bit of space to be able to jump up into it. I don't know if making my bed be on a staircase will be good for him. He's SUPER active, and is an English sheep dog poodle mix, so he's pretty big as well. submitted by /u/RATCRUNCH420 to r/DogAdvice [link] [comments]
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r/DogAdvice |
RATCRUNCH420 |
Jun 23, 2026 |
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How do I [F28], a widow, tell my in-laws[M58][F59] about my new partner? I am very, VERY close to them (for all intents and purposes they treat me as their daughter, events, sleepovers, trips etc.) and I am afraid that this will destroy everything
I am NOT OOP, OOP is u/CuriousButNotJewish Originally posted to r/relationship_advice How do I [F28], a widow, tell my in-laws[M58][F59] about my new partner? I am very, VERY close to them (for all intents and purposes they treat me as their daughter, events, sleepovers, trips etc.) and I am afraid that this will destroy everything Thanks to u/withlovetara & u/soayherder for suggesting this BoRU Trigger Warnings: death of a spouse, mentions trauma Original Post: May 3, 2026 I married my soulmate, the love of my life and the light of my eyes 3.5 years ago. Unfortunately, he died shortly after our wedding due to an illness, in my arms and while holding his parents' hands. Suffice to say this was traumatic for everyone involved, everyone in his family tattooed his name on their wrist (I have a marriage tattoo, so not a name but a date tied to him, which is why I didn't do it), and the whole after-death, mourning, etc. period we bonded very deeply over his memory. For context (this is relevant), I am from country A. My late husband was from country B. I lived with him in country C, and since then I've moved and now live in country D. As my husband was dying, we both moved from C to B, so that burial and everything else would be easier. I then stayed with my in-laws for a while, moved back to C, sold the apartment I owned there shortly after and moved to D. I am thus now stranded, in a way, between my family (all in A) and my in laws family (all in B). I travel ~2 times a year to spend time with in-laws in B, maybe once a year to spend time with my own fam in A, and maybe once a year my entire blood family comes to D to spend time with me. It's an expensive and exhausting arrangement but it works in maintaining both bonds. It also means that when I am in B, I am now for all intents and purposes treated by in-laws, and the entire rest of my late husband's family, like I am their child: I live with them, travel with them around the country, eat with them, play video games together with my "siblings" in law, I am on the walls of their house in holiday photos and spend time with my late husband's cousins and now, these are basically my family too, my mom dad grandparents cousins etc. They're just as mom and dad as my own mom and dad are. And here comes the hard question: I'm in my late 20s. After my hubby died, I did date now and then, with eventually hoping for marriage and kids, but nothing seemed to work, fellow widows know what that's like. And then... I met this guy. And he has been, well, not like my late husband, but you know how sometimes you meet someone and they are YOUR person? And you just know? In a different way, this man is as much a soulmate now as my husband was. And he is very chill with me going to in-laws, mentioning a memory of something I did with my late husband on occasion, having a picture of him in my bedroom, etc. He is caring, loving, understanding and patient, everything a young widow could ask for... and things are moving fast. Which is the problem. Thus far, I never mentioned any relationships to my in-laws. They are aware, I am certain, that I do date, have sex, etc. but they don't ask, and I don't talk, about anything or anyone other than my late husband while in country B. I don't feel like that's respectful to change that, buuuuuut - well, I want to move in with this guy. And I want to stop saying I'm going on 'solo trips' when I'm actually going on trips with this guy. And I love him, a lot, and we are already talking marriage, and children. And I have to tell them that this man now exists in my life, and here I am, in my in-laws' toilet, writing this out at 2am to ask Reddit for advice. With 2 days left before I go back to country D and don't come back here to B until... God knows. Maybe Christmas? I have to tell them, and I want to do it in person while I am here, but I don't know how. I don't want it to seem ostentatious - there is pictures of me and late husband, together, hugging, on holidays, EVERYWHERE in the house, and announcing a new man in my life out of the blue might seem like I'm bragging or something. I'm not. I also don't want it to seem like I'm leaving them aside - I'm not. They are MY mom and dad in law, my gran gran and gram gram in law, my little brother and sister in law, and this will change nothing. Even after I get married. Even if I have children. They remain family to me and kin. But how do I even start this conversation? Because they won't ask. And I don't know how to mention it, in a way that we never speak about it again, in a way that respects and shows that my late husband is STILL my soulmate, still the light of my eyes - he's just not the only one, anymore. I'm scared out of my mind that this will make me lose them. Relevant Comments OOP responds to a comment about overthinking everything and how her late husband’s family might react to the new relationship OOP: Oh I know it's not betrayal. I am fully ok with this, I'm not feeling guilty over it or anything. Part of what made my soulmate well, my soulmate, is his emotional intelligence, his wisdom way beyond his years, his foresight and his empathy. He was dying and yet he took a few hours, sat me down, and made sure he understood and I understood what will happen once he dies. He told me in no uncertain terms that he wants me to date again. Like a petulant child, I told him I'll kill myself instead to not have to suffer a life without him - and I almost did. The lucidity that came after the suicide attempt made me realise he was right, and I don't carry any guilt in my heart, because in my head, it's a bit like polygamy if that makes sense? I still love my husband, deeply, profoundly and every second, but also, he is ok with this. He wanted me to find another good man (or woman). He wanted me to have children, if I wanted them. What do I have to be guilty for? He ain't mad at this, he's cheering me onwards and is probably proud of me for finding such a good catch. His parents are not as open minded. That's what I'm afraid of - their reaction, and the family's reaction as a whole. He comes from a very tightly knit family, and I really enjoy this, how close and personal everyone is with everyone. But they also might find it painful to picture me as OP, Woman Married to Unknown Man, as opposed to OP, Widow of our Dear Departed And Beloved Relative. The thing is, I am both. I will ALWAYS be both. I am wearing my wedding band proudly, continuously, and likely will keep it on a chain after I marry my current partner (and start wearing our wedding bands instead). Even now I have a promise ring of sorts on my middle finger, right next to my wedding band. For me these things are not a contradiction. I contain multitudes. I just don't know how to help my family of kinship also see this and not reject me. OOP on the reasons for wanting children with a partner OOP: Unfortunately, the line is tick tocking on my biological clock. I have a health condition that is degenerative - it might cause me to become infertile later in life. As you can imagine, in our day and age, this put off many men, who don't see why we shouldn't just wait till I'm 35+, but my late husband and I shared what we knew we always wanted out of life: at least two children (amongst other things). I'm only rushing because I'm afraid that if I don't have all the kids I want by 32-33, I may never have them :(. I wish women didn't have a biological clock, so I didn't have to do that. But life forces cruel choices on us. Had my late husband not died, we were considering starting children at 26 or so, so in a way (and I know this may sound silly) I feel a bit like I'm already "behind" on my planned timeline. House ownership? Check. Good job and being the breadwinner? Check. Finding a good partner to settle down and have kids with? Well, it was a check, and then life told me not only do I not get to have that check anymore, I have to keep staying alive and suffer through what's left. And I'm doing just that, I went to grief counselling, I made my peace with it, life sucks, so I'm just trying to make the best of a bad situation... but I know it's perhaps harder to understand for someone without a degenerative disease. Trust me, I wouldn't rush, if only I felt like I could afford to. (And before anyone asks, no, it's not inheritable.) OOP on if she has her relationships with her biological family as she only mentions much more about her in-laws than her own OOP: I don't, I'm much more close to my biological mom and my bio family over in-laws, but my father is an alcoholic and a bit of a gambling addict and growing up I have fought with him, shouted at him, and even physically assaulted him twice out of sheer anger (I definitely had anger issues as a teenager, and broke my dear mother's heart countless times over my inability to contain them). Now as an adult I have learned to love and appreciate him from a distance. I also love and have always loved children, and my parents are single children, so I have no cousins, and two of my four grandparents were dead by the time I married, so my grandparent exposure has been fantastic, but sadly limited. Comparatively, my late husband has 4 living grandparents (who are now great grandparents), 12 uncles and aunts, and... 18 cousins? I am close with around 9 of them. Of which some are children. And I love being here, playing with them, playing in general. It feels like family. It feels like what I want MY family to be when I have children. When I grew up we didn't really celebrate Christmas, we were too poor. When I grew up I had a chronic illness so everyone was constantly worried that the only child in the entire family will die if they don't take care of me, so we didn't travel much. When I grew up... people loved me, I was a very loved and wanted child, but I was also a difficult, angry, depressed child who felt the weight of the world on her shoulders and I know I didn't make my family's lives easy, the opposite. Which is why I moved to C by myself, took student loans, did a very good university on scholarships and debt, and am now making enough money to give my parents the life they never had growing up themselves (I send them money every month so they can do whatever they want and be happy with them). I feel like I'm allowed this small, vicarious, selfish luxury, to be in this family that's not my blood and pretend I belong. Play with the Legos I never had as a baby. Coo at all the toddlers I never played with, play football with the aunts and uncles I never had. It's not mom and dad's fault that they are who they are. They sacrificed everything to raise me. Sometimes they starved so that I never lacked anything. But at the same time, what do I have back in the home country to visit? Dying grandparents? Sad memories? I love my country, but I don't want to go back. I want mom and dad and my grandparents, as much as they can, to keep coming to country C to spend time with me. I want to make so much money that I can bring my mom and dad here to live with me permanently, even, once they retire and my grandparents die. I just don't see the point in visiting my country of origin, not because it's a bad country (I won't say what it is, but it is objectively an amazing country y'all have heard of), but because I have such a small family that I can just bring them all to me instead. We can go to cute cafes and buy stupid adult Legos and visit overpriced zoos and do all the silly stuff we haven't done before now. I'm killing myself working overtime with a chronic illness to make it happen. I don't think it means I'm more distant from my parents and grandparents of blood. It's just different. Commenter 2: Out of curiosity what are the timelines here? How long were you with your late husband and how long have you been with your current partner? What cultures and continents are we dealing with? My white Western anglophone POV might be out of line, you know? OOP: We're all Europeans, countries A B C D are a mix of Eastern, Southern and Western Europe. I was with my husband 4 years in total, this new guy I've dated for... we're coming up on 8 months? We're not getting married soon or anything, just talking about moving in together. OOP on the timeline of her dating, marriage, and her husband's passing OOP: I first came to country B to visit maybe 1.5 years before he died? We started to bond and do things together all of us already, for sure, but it definitely kicked up a notch after he died. I had a lot of cousins and aunts and uncles at my wedding I barely even knew the names of, but now I would trust them all with my life as if they were blood relatives. They also started visiting me in D after I bought my house there, so by definition after he died. He's been gone 3.5 years, we were married half a year, and we were both 24 at the time. New guy is 29. In-laws are from a very Catholic culture, I don't want to say the country specifically, but nobody in the family is religious. Does this help? Editor's note: OOP updated into the original post Update: May 4, 2026 (same post, next day) EDIT: I DID IT I talked only to my mother in law, because I was a bit afraid to talk to them both, and I kept putting it off until literally the last second before we went to bed but, I did it. I told her that this guy is the first serious relationship I've had since hubby passed away, that it's quite a new thing (I was afraid to tell her it's been a long time - I can come clean about this small lie later on, if he becomes more than boyfriend) but that I've known him for a longer while because we're in the same friend group, and to my surprise, she asked me to tell her more about him! She cut me off at some point then and told me she is very happy for me, but she only wants one thing from me: to stay in touch with them, and to not push them aside, and to that I told her I had been freaking out the whole time while in country B about how to tell her, and she said it’s silly, even seemed to get a bit cross at me that I could ever be afraid to tell her because we are family, and I told her to me she is mom as much as my own mom is mom, so I was afraid to lose her and lose that, and anyway we hugged and she is very happy for me and we bonded over how we were both afraid that this moment would distance me from them, but I reassured her that literally nothing will change between us, and I am as much her daughter now as I will always be. So yeah: turns out, y'all were right, I freaked out over nothing much, and while I am uncertain as to when, or if, rest of family will find out, since she is the one I am closest with and she also knows her children and husband best, I trust that she'll mention it to them when she thinks that the time is right. At the same time I told my boyfriend, and he is very happy that it all went well, and congratulated me for it : D I did chicken out on telling her the full truth, how long we've been together, and stuff like that, as well as to have a full "we need to sit down" talk with father in law, but all in all, I think this is as ok as it will get, and I am reassured that even if he doesn't take it as well, mom (in law?) is in my corner and she is happy for me. Extra detail that entirely blew me away: the guys who said to mention to her that husband did tell me to remarry were more spot on the money than they thought. Turns out, not only did he have this conversation with me, he ALSO had this conversation with them, so she said she is ok with it especially because late hubby told her that this is what he wants. I do feel a bit uneasy at the thought of how this might have went had he not, but once again from beyond the grave and 3 years ago he protected his wife and made sure I am safe and accepted by his family, which. Guys. At 24, while dying. I cannot put into words how much I love this man. I would die for him to get even another hour of life. Until his last day he thought of me and loved me. How blessed are we that we get to have experienced a man such as him into our lives. I dunno how all of the guys who wanted an update will get it but uh... here you go? lol Editor's note: below are two posts that are tangentially to the original and update posts WIBTAH to go ahead with buying a bunk bed despite my partner's hesitation?: May 17, 2026 (nearly two weeks later) Long story short, both my partner (30M) and I (28F) currently live in apartments with roommates. I have finally managed to save enough money and buy an apartment that I absolutely love, and since I wanted to move in with my partner eventually, this turned out to be a great moment for us to do so. We talked about it and, the conclusion we reached is that as I bought the apartment by myself, he will pay me half of the mortgage as rent after he moves in until (if) we get married. Anyway, one of the biggest reasons why I wanted to buy instead of continuing to rent is that I ADORE loft beds. They are my favourite beds in the world, I love the "living upstairs, couch beanbag with PS5 and projector and RGB lighting downstairs behind princess curtains" aesthetic, it's literally my dream. This is something I told my partner for a long time even before buying this apartment, that this is my dream bed, I want to buy one day, and it was a big motivator to buying (in our country almost all apartments for rent are furnished already so low chances to have a loft bed unless I buy the place instead of renting). Never has anything been said by him against this. I even showed him my Pinterest board with how I want it to look, 0 complaints. Now that the place is ready and I am starting to prepare for ordering furniture, ending my rent contract, and moving in, I am showing him again all of the inspo pics and he seems... less than thrilled? He asked a few times if I am sure this is the best choice for a bed, what if him or I fall off of the ladder at night, etc. I told him that the living room will also have a very comfortable guest bed AND a sofa with an extendable bed, so we don't have to sleep together if he doesn't like the bed, but he's all "hmm" and "maybe" and non-committal noises and it's a bit stressful tbh. Feels like he's raining on my parade. I even told him that there's no pressure with the move, I am fortunate enough to be able to pay the mortgage by myself if he isn't certain about moving together anymore, and he got a bit upset at me for implying we'd be giving up our shared dream of living together and sleeping together in the same bed just because he isn't sure about the loft bed idea. I don't know how to tell him this gently, but the loft bed isn't negotiable. It's absolutely happening. He knew about it for such a long time. At the same time, I asked my best friend (who is a man) what he thinks I should do and he said that I should be more open to compromise with this because compromise is the heart of a good relationship. But I don't want to compromise. I want my loft bed. WIBTAH to go ahead with buying it even though my partner isn't super thrilled with the idea? Sorry if my English is bad or the text sounds badly worded, English isn't my native language. Edit: I see some people are confused and think I am talking about those loft beds children have, I am talking about the double-bed sized loft beds that IKEA has for adults, specifically this one: https://www.ikea.com/us/en/p/stora-loft-bed-frame-black-80160867/ Edit 2: fair enough, I take people's points about the weight limit, I'll inquire with a carpenter to have a custom bed built in the same style, but with a sturdier frame. I hear your safety concerns. Edit 3: a kind redditor suggested a bed and the company just happens to deliver to where I live, so it looks like I'll be buying this beauty, with a very much 2-adults'-weight maximum weight to it: https://abc-meubles.com/fr/lit-mezzanine-bois/1452-1270341-lit-mezzanine-sylvia-escalier-cube.html#/67-couleur-brut_sans_vernis Cheers to all the other suspended (apparently bunk is not the word, loft bed is correct) bed owners out there pouring in their stories and helpful advice Tonight I have a date and guess what topic we'll discuss over some nice dinner - will update later! Edit 4: This sub won't let me post comments anymore cause y'all have downvoted my comments answering your questions so much that it fell under some threshold. So no updates or INFO answers anymore. Too bad. Also please stop mentioning "guest rooms". This is not the US. It is a 1 bedroom apartment in a European capital city where the average 2 bedroom apartment is at least 1 million EUR. It doesn't have the immense amount of space that American houses have. We all wish we had those houses. Those houses here, in bumfuck nowhere in the countryside, would be between 1 and 2 million EUR. Edit 5: we didn't break up. We talked about it, and I posted an update on it: https://www.reddit.com/r/AITAH/comments/1tg76o0/update_wibtah_to_go_ahead_with_buying_a_bunk_bed/ To everyone cursing me out and wishing for the death of my relationship, sorry babes, it ain't happening. AITAH has no consensus bot, OOP received mixed reactions, splitting between NTAs and YTAs Editor's note: OOP made numerous responses in this post, the majority of her responses have been downvoted. I am listing significant details not covered Relevant Comments Commenter 1: .... all loft beds are literally under "kids' loft beds & bunk beds" category in Ikea. It's definitely 100% NOT for adults. There's only 1 double mattress loft bed in the states and They even say: "Please note that our loft bed frames are designed for one person at a time even if 2 or more persons total weight is less than 220lb per bed limit." You're mistaken OOP: We don't live in the states. In my country's IKEA website, bunk beds are not aged like they seem to be in the US. Commenter 2: What are your ceiling heights though? Are you going to be bumping your head all the time? OOP: If I remember correctly, they're a bit under 4 meters (editor's note: a bit over 13 feet). It's an old apartment and has blessedly freakishly tall ceilings. OOP on the cost of a place in her country OOP: In my country an apartment with more than 2 rooms is a million EUR (editor's note: $1,160,400.00 USD). I'm being realistic here. Already being able to own my place before I'm 30 is massively ahead of my generation. + Rent is generally higher than mortgage, because housing market sucks ass. 2. a 2 bedroom apartment is around a million EUR, because housing market sucks ass. 3. Being able to afford any real estate in this nightmare of a country is already huge, the average first time house buyer is over 40 years old. Buying my own place before 30 is immense in itself. Commenter 3: it’s your house, not his. if he wants an option on furnishing, he should be paying half the mortgage and half the price of the furnishings. OOP: Technically he's prying half of the mortgage amount per month, but I put my foot down and this will be in the form of a rent contract. It is my property and it will remain my property. OOP on who is paying for the bed OOP: And I'm paying for the bed lol. Like he ain't paying 50%, another commenter made me realise how stupid I am to consider someone else's vision for a bed when I'm buying the furniture, for an apartment I bought... OOP on the weight limit of the loft bed that might not hold her and her partner OOP: We both weigh, together, 130kg. If the bed breaks under us I'll file a customer complaint because wtf lol. Commenter 4: INFO: Do you like having sex with your partner? Do they make loft beds big enough for 2 people? Would you consider a loft that's more of a couch on top? I'm not gonna shit on you for your dream even if I don't get it but I'm just gonna tell you right now you are describing a single person's lifestyle not something that is practical for a couple. So decide which one you want more. OOP: The loft bed frame is 200x200, I've already had a ton of sex in this exact type of loft bed when I had a very short FWB stint in college with another girl who had this bed, trust me, it's 100% sturdy enough lol. Like you can do all kinds of bondage in it even because of how big the frame is and how many board nooks it has available - it makes for some INSANE shibari if your partner knows how to make it! The loft bed love I have is unrelated to this lol, I loved loft beds even before discovering their BDSM potential, but the adult, queen sized loft beds are definitely made with sex in mind, take my word on this ;) OOP on considering hers and her partner's heights OOP: We're both short people and the place has high ceilings, so we shouldn't have problems hitting our heads. Our sex life is, let's say, potentially adventurous: given that we both have housemates, we haven't had the chance to try lots of crazy stuff, but this apartment will be a bit of a chance to explore some kinks and fetishes we both have in common. The bunk bed will help with that also, since there are lots of posts and polls to wrap rope around on it ;) + We're both about the same height, 168-170cm, idk what that is in American units. (editor's note: approximately 5'5") Commenter 5: I mean if the bed is more important to you than the partner is, which it sounds like is the case, then I think that says a lot about your relationship. OOP: It's not about the bed itself, same as it wasn't about the Iranian yoghurt. This is something I communicated as a non-negotiable to him forever ago, it is a dream I actively sank tens of thousands of euros to achieve. The fact that he's only now, when we're 95% there, saying he doesn't like it or is a dealbreaker, feels to me like if I was dating some guy for 10 years with the clear understanding that we both want children, only for him to change his mind up and say he needs to think last moment. You know what I mean? This is a dream of mine he was aware of for pretty much years and only now when it's about to happen he reveals he doesn't like it. If he hated the concept why not tell me sooner? Like when I showed him my inspo Pinterest boards? OOP on the deed of the apartment OOP: I'm sorry, is his name on the deed to this house? Is he buying the furniture? Are we going 50/50 on it? No? Ah, well. Equals isn't just a vibe, equals is a thing counted in cold hard cash. + I have only my name on the deed, he will have a rental contract with no equity claim to my property if he does move in with me. Commenter 6: YTA. You want him to move in, but he doesn’t even get a say in any furniture and he's paying half of the bills. Then you told him the bed is non-negotiable and he can sleep elsewhere or LIVE elsewhere. If this is your dying hill and something to strain your relationship over you have growing to do. OOP: He's paying rent. I paid the down deposit, I pay and am responsible for this house. As far as I am concerned he can have the certainty and joy of us living together, but unless he coughs up some down deposit and we buy a property together, the same way my landlords certainly don't ask me how I want my rental apartment furnished, he also doesn't get a say. We are both adults and I won't be a doormat and let him act as if he bought this house. OOP on whose idea was to move in together OOP:He's the one who keeps pushing for us to move in together as a great opportunity. I won't lie, having to not pay half of the mortgage would be easier on my wallet, and he only works part time, so he could do household chores (he already said he'd want to cook for us and clean the place so that I don't have to hire cleaning help)... I'm ok with him moving in but if he doesn't I won't die. [Update] WIBTAH to go ahead with buying a bunk bed despite my partner's hesitation?: May 17, 2026 (same day, hours later) Short update to all the lovers of loft beds (I have now learned it's called loft and not bunk) and all of those fervently calling me a thousand names and acting like I'm torturing my gem and babe of a partner by having him move in with me. We just had a date night. It was lovely, if a bit cold (why is it so cold so close to summer, anyway?), and with my mind heavy from all the commenters absolutely losing their shit at the concept of shorter-than-average adults sleeping in anything other than the most insanely massive beds known to man, I gently prodded the topic of the loft bed back into conversation. I put all my cards on table and was fully honest, told him that I am hurt that he seems to not have taken me seriously before, that I want to find a compromise that makes him happy as well, but at the same time, that this bed is very important to me and I am not sure where to go from here, but I want to discuss it seriously, because his dismissive attitude made me unsure about the future. To my surprise, he was himself surprised that I took his grumpiness about the bed so seriously. He said he's still not thrilled at the idea, that he was hoping I had reconsidered a bit in light of the negatives he raised, but that if that's what I really want, he'll be there for me for it. And then we got to planning. I won't bore the good folks with too many details; I showed him the French bed someone suggested from the last post (I linked it in the previous post), he liked that the stairs look way less slippery than the IKEA ladder, suggested we put some anti-slip surface carpets on them for extra safety and also that we bolt the contraption to the walls to reduce shaking during, ahem, adult activities, and then he asked me if I think we could fit a bed underneath that bed, and if I'd be ok with that. I said probably yes, but that it wouldn't be a massive bed. He said that's fine. So that's what's happening. The gaming console and beanbag combo will have to relocate somewhere else (the office, most likely - its existence seems to have confused a lot of people, just to help clarify, it's a 1 bedroom apartment with a small office room which is too small to be a bedroom by itself), the downstairs curtains don't really fit into the picture anymore, but we'll put a bed underneath the loft bed, so he can choose whether he wants to sleep in his bachelor-style pad under the stairs (Harry Potter jokes were had) or climb up with me in the upper area. He also said that he hopes I'll grow tired of the "heights" sooner rather than later, to which I jokingly said he'll have to ground me down a lot for that to happen (does this joke make sense in English? it's like when you direct electricity into the ground by reaching up to the sky with a metal antenna), and in response he gave me a tight hug and kiss. The world didn't explode. We didn't break up. We'll just have an even funkier bed situation than before: a double bed underneath the loft bed. It will probably look something like this (replace the table and single bed with a full bed underneath the loft bed): https://pin.it/4SG9BidJt But it's not that bad. We might even put the curtains on the upper side of the bed (the ceiling? a rail? not sure yet) to keep the whimsy aspect and then it might look like something like this: https://pin.it/16BNKDu2e We also, to the annoyance of that person complaining about who makes Pinterest boards anymore, agreed to make a shared pins board to be more in touch with this project and how we see it. Uh... the end? I know some people wanted an update once the bed came home, but realistically, that will be one month from now or so, I thought I'd give this small update until then. The drama my little princess whimsy bed truly was crazy so hopefully this calms some folks down. Editor's note: again, OOP made numerous responses in this post, the majority of her responses have been downvoted Some Comments Has OOP slept in a loft bed before? OOP: I did have it in one of the previous rentals I had, and an ex-girlfriend of mine also had it. It's very much a love it or hate it thing I'm starting to learn - some people absolutely despise them and some really like them, one thing is for certain though, they're not for houses with low ceilings. Saw someone say they had less than 1m between the bed and ceiling in their one as a child, which sounds like a casket with extra steps. Commenter 1: You should show him your other post and comments so he can see exactly how uncaring and dismissively you spoke about him. He has a right to know how you actually view him. It would probably be an eye opener for him. OOP: I think he's happier enough not seeing my angrier side. Some of the stuff people said there... phew. I have a temper, it's in my people's blood, we can light up from nothing, fiery blood. I did say some bullshit I didn't actually mean, when redditors call me entitled retarded a child a bitch a psychopath and every other name under the sun, of course it gets under my skin and makes me aggressive. But with him I'm feeling the kind of calm I've never felt before. As long as we find compromise and respect each other, there is no reason to become upset. He hasn't harmed before, ever, has never raised his voice or called me names. I have no reason for anger with my love. If anything, he seemed more happy that we'll get a cat than anything. And now we have to figure out how to make a cat staircase that's safe for it to climb up in bed and back... I still don't see the joy in it, but that's his lifelong dream, so everyone is moving forward with their plans it seems 😉 Commenter 2: He said he didn’t want the bed, but you are going to it anyhow. You aren’t a great partner. You are prioritizing a “fun idea” over his comfort. OOP: We made a compromise, that's how compromises work. I am happy, he is happy. A compromise did not mean tossing the bed out or breaking up with him or whatever people kept saying I should do. THIS IS A REPOST SUB - I AM NOT THE OOP DO NOT CONTACT THE OOP's OR COMMENT ON LINKED POSTS, REMEMBER - RULE 7 submitted by /u/Choice_Evidence1983 to r/BestofRedditorUpdates [link] [comments]
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r/BestofRedditorUpdates |
Choice_Evidence1983 |
May 24, 2026 |
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Looking for a double loft bed with stairs in the UK.
Im moving house within the next few months and need a new bed, to save space I’m looking for a quality double loft bed with stairs, any idea where I can find one? Here’s an idea of my ideal bed: https://amzn.eu/d/05uyOmcf In terms of appearance and utility that would be what I want, but they aren’t in the UK. submitted by /u/CalzLight to r/BuyItForLife [link] [comments]
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r/BuyItForLife |
CalzLight |
May 11, 2026 |
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It's 1982 but I don't hate it because I am fed up with the grey trend and the simple floor plans.
This floats my boat! Everything could stay as it is! Even the darn red carpet - it suits the space perfectly. Love the uniqueness of this place. Plus almost 7 acres of amazing outdoors. Sure, this and that could be updated, but it's in great shape and functional, and doesn't bother me. Not even the dreaded spiral stairs in the center, because there are other stairs as well. I wonder about the two levels on the tower and the rooms there. Not sure which pictures are showing them. I guess picture 18 that shows sort of loft? Another question is the internal glass window above the master bed. Why it's there and what's behind? (picture #21) Now I only wish to have that kind of money to buy this gem .... https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/7211-Brickyard-Rd-Rockville-MD-20854/37265400\_zpid/ submitted by /u/jve909 to r/zillowgonewild [link] [comments]
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r/zillowgonewild |
jve909 |
May 2, 2026 |
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My FIRST EVER Standard Issue from 25 years ago was my BEST EVER cat.
I got her from the local pound and she'd been found as a stray on the streets. She was so frightened of everything at the shelter that she spent her time curled up in her litter box and flattened herself and drooled on the floor when I tried to interact with her. Volunteers suggested other, friendlier/less shy cats, but I stuck with my decision. Brought her home, set up a bed for her in my back room. I slept in a sleeping loft with a steep ladder which I didn't think she'd be able to climb. In the middle of the night I got up to go to the bathroom and didn't see her. Came back up to my loft bed and she was there waiting for me! She was the sweetest, most polite cat ever. Would climb under the covers and snuggle with me for 5-15 minutes when I first got into bed, then she'd sleep at the foot of my bed and would not come back to snuggle again until my clock radio was playing and she knew I was awake. Always greeted me at the top of the stairs with her tail up. If I went away for more than 24 hours, she'd greet me with 3 tiny "meep" noises. Such a sweetheart - I will love her always. submitted by /u/ArdenM to r/standardissuecat [link] [comments]
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r/standardissuecat |
ArdenM |
Apr 6, 2026 |
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Loft bed with stairs for a full size mattress (mattress measures 54 inches wide by 75 inches long)
Hello. New to this community. Love what the people on this subreddit are doing. I make DIY plans. Here is a recent creation. I would like your critique. The idea behind the design. I noticed a lot of plans make the stairs part difficult. Sometimes leaving the safety railing off completely. What if the person using it gets confused at night. Total lumber cost is roughly $300. Just standard dimensional lumber from stores like Home Depot or Lowes. Please feel free to roast/give feedback submitted by /u/Adorable-Ad5435 to r/Woodworkingplans [link] [comments]
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r/Woodworkingplans |
Adorable-Ad5435 |
Feb 18, 2026 |
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Searchin a loft bed (frame only, no furniture or shelves), black color, sleeping area 90×200 cm, minimum inner height of 180 cm (total height approx. 200 cm), with stairs on the right side
Hello, i live in Germany, Berlin and i am searchin a a loft bed (frame only, no furniture or shelves), black color, sleeping area 90×200 cm, minimum inner height of 180 cm (total height approx. 200 cm), with stairs on the right side. submitted by /u/Federal-Muscle-2794 to r/Bedding [link] [comments]
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r/Bedding |
Federal-Muscle-2794 |
Jan 18, 2026 |
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Searchin a loft bed (frame only, no furniture or shelves), black color, sleeping area 90×200 cm, minimum inner height of 180 cm (total height approx. 200 cm), with stairs on the right side
submitted by /u/Federal-Muscle-2794 to r/HelpMeFindThis [link] [comments]
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r/HelpMeFindThis |
Federal-Muscle-2794 |
Jan 16, 2026 |
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Searchin a loft bed (frame only, no furniture or shelves), black color, sleeping area 90×200 cm, minimum inner height of 180 cm (total height approx. 200 cm), with stairs on the right side
Hello, i live in Germany, Berlin and i am searchin a a loft bed (frame only, no furniture or shelves), black color, sleeping area 90×200 cm, minimum inner height of 180 cm (total height approx. 200 cm), with stairs on the right side. submitted by /u/Federal-Muscle-2794 to r/HelpMeFind [link] [comments]
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r/HelpMeFind |
Federal-Muscle-2794 |
Jan 16, 2026 |
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Finally set up a loft bed with actual stairs
So I've been putting off setting up the spare room for like two years. Finally bit the bullet and got a loft bed to turn it into a proper office/guest room combo. Most of the ones I looked at had those sketchy ladder things which wasn't gonna fly bad knee from playing ball back in the day. Ended up going with this OYUMOENTS queen loft bed that has real stairs: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0F8NXW1ZR What I like about it: Actual stairs with a handrail. Not those janky ladder steps some companies try to pass off as stairs. I can walk up like a normal person without worrying about eating it at 2am. Steel frame rated for 400 lbs which matters when you're not exactly a small dude. Feels solid, no wobbling or creaking. Has a desk built in underneath with some RGB light strip thing. Wasn't really looking for that but it's actually pretty useful for the office setup. Assembly was a pain in the ass not gonna lie. Took me and my buddy most of a Saturday afternoon. Instructions could be better but we figured it out. Only thing make sure you measure your ceiling height first. Queen size bed up high takes up some vertical space. Overall pretty happy with how it turned out. Got a real workspace underneath and guests actually have a decent bed now instead of the air mattress. submitted by /u/dubbletime to r/ProductProbe [link] [comments]
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r/ProductProbe |
dubbletime |
Jan 15, 2026 |
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Need a bunk bed with space below for a desk so i found this but i have no idea what to check for to see if its safe im planning on using 250 lbs on it usually stairs there so my dog can come up top btw
https://www.wayfair.com/furniture/pdp/mason-marbles-twin-loft-bed-with-storage-stairs-metal-bed-frame-built-in-guardrail-anti-tipping-kit-space-saving-loft-bed-for-kids-teens-dorm-or-small-rooms-w114987017.html submitted by /u/UnitOk5192 to r/BuyItForLife [link] [comments]
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r/BuyItForLife |
UnitOk5192 |
Nov 20, 2025 |
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Lofted queen sized bed with 2 desks under it and stairs to get up
New to reddit and im hoping im doing this right, me and my girlfriend just moved into a small apartment together and are trying to save space. Our idea is to get a lofted bed frame for our queen sized bed and put our computers under it (havent been able to find one with desks). We are both very clumsy so one with stairs is needed as we will fall if its a ladder (not to mention our cats would to) i saw the rule against ai generated answers but nothing about using my phones ai drawing tool so i added an image of kinda what i had in mind. Color doesnt matter but prefer darker tones like black and grey. Like i said im new to this whole reddit thing so lmk if i messed something up in this post 😅 submitted by /u/HorrorMan404 to r/HelpMeFind [link] [comments]
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r/HelpMeFind |
HorrorMan404 |
Nov 8, 2025 |
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I get paid to answer phone calls all day...but I am only allowed to listen.
We've all heard of odd jobs before. Quirky social media gigs. Requests from strangers on the internet. Sometimes legit, mostly illegal. I want to warn you about my latest venture. The premise is simple, but confusing: You are paid to answer calls, but you can only listen. If you talk back, if you say anything at all, you're done. Curious? So was I. But before I jump in, I want to set the scene for you. There's a lot of ground to cover, but I promise it'll be worth the wait. Let's start with the call center. There’s a certain uneasiness in the building. It’s not the lights, or the computers, or the AC rumbling through the white paneled ceiling. It’s deeper than that. A quiet, unnerving buzz. The longer you are here, the easier it gets. But the feeling never quite goes away. It just gets buried. Deeper and deeper into that steel case you call your mind. You’d be surprised how many people there are in this office. It’s quiet. But it isn’t silent. Never silent. If you sit still long enough, if you really listen, you can hear them. The voices. The steady rhythm of desperation. Cries, pleas, whispers, screams. They’re not loud. Not loud enough to disturb anyone. Just soft enough to make your skin crawl. Like a bad feeling you can’t place. They’re not coming from the workers. They’re pouring out of the phones. The never-ending sea of desperate callers ringing in day-after-day. Every call is different. Every voice is different. But the words? The stories? Always the same. “Please,” they say. “I don’t know where I am. Something is outside the door. I need help.” But no one responds. No one ever does. Two cubes down, Martha—that’s what I call her—is filling out a crossword. She taps her acrylic nails against her desk like she’s typing away at an invisible keyboard. Then there is Debbie—again, not her name. But she seems like a Debbie. She is tall, brunette, and eating the same cheap parfait she brings in everyday. I think it’s strawberry flavored. Nobody talks here. Not out loud. Not unless they still want to work here. We don’t wear name tags. We don’t introduce ourselves. We don’t even wear our own faces. Everyone’s assigned a mask. Not the sanitary kind. Not the Halloween kind either. They’re...corporate. Sleek, smooth, almost artistic. I would describe it as a masquerade-style mask—without the usual glitter and tassels. They start just below the forehead and stop just above the mouth. They say it’s part of the experiment. What experiment? Nobody really knows. That’s kind of the whole point. We’re not here to understand. We’re here to follow instructions. Answer the call. Don’t say anything. Let them speak. Let them scream. Let them beg. Just sit there with the phone pressed to your ear and listen until the line goes dead. That’s it. That’s the job. It seems cheap—gimmicky almost. Like we’re apart of the latest reality tv series where camera men are hiding in bushes with ulterior motives. I thought the same at first. But if there is something that doesn’t lie, it’s money. And lots of it. That’s why I’m here. I’m Ariana. Nineteen years old. College dropout. A few semesters in, then I quit. Way too much debt, too little hope. Credit cards stacked like a tower ready to fall. I spent weeks scouring every corner of the internet for something—anything—that could get me back on my feet, even if just for a while. That’s when Mabel introduced me to her profession. Mabel was unique. Always dressed sharp—nice car, good career, Chanel bag casually tossed over her shoulder. A very independent woman. She lived in the city, paid her own bills, and did whatever the hell she wanted to. She was fun, serious, and motivating all at once. We have been friends for a while now, but she always kept me at arms length. Sure we would go out and have a nice time together. Bond over past relationships and mutual interests. But there was something mysterious about her. She never really talked about her work. I assumed it was drugs or some kind of shady side hustle. It wasn’t like her to keep secrets. But when she saw how down on my luck I was, she took pity. Handed me a business card. And then, just as quickly, told me she never gave me that card. “If anyone asks you, I didn’t give you that card. You don’t know Mabel and Mabel don’t know you,” she said sharply. Apparently that was against the company’s rules. Nobody can know anyone else who works there. I was confused. But curious. I called the number. A voice answered. Cold. Mysterious. They asked me two questions. “Do you break under pressure?” “Do you know anyone else who works here?” I said no and no. That was it. No background check, no references. Didn’t even ask to see the resume I carefully prepared for the occasion. They gave me an address and a time. Simple as that. The onboarding was just as strange as everything else. You’d think I was signing up for some military program or a secret government project. Everyone was tight-lipped. No smiling. No small talk. The rules were simple. And unsettling. Arrive at the building exactly when your shift starts. Not a minute early, not a minute late. Keep your mask on the entire time. No exceptions. Don’t identify yourself. Don’t try to identify anyone else. Do not respond or speak to the caller on the other end of the line. It felt odd to say the least. But I kept telling myself it was just one big experiment. They’re paying for data, not for us to help anyone. We’re not really answering calls. We’re the product. Being fed to someone or something higher up the chain. That is what the assessors say at least. Assessors are basically glorified managers. People with a flashy degree and people skills that tell you the voices aren’t real. That the people on the other end aren’t people at all. They're artificial, synthetic. Part of the test and nothing more. “Simulations,” they say. “You’re not hurting anyone. It’s about resilience. Exposure therapy. Mental strength.” Sure buddy. I don’t know what they are. I refuse to believe they are people. It wouldn’t make sense. But they don’t act like simulations either. They don’t sound fake. They sob. They stutter. They beg for their kids. They talk about the thing outside the closet, or the eyes under the bed, or monster outside their window. You sit there. You listen. You grip your pen tighter and tighter until the call drops out or the screaming stops or there’s that awful, sudden silence like something just grabbed the person out of existence. Then you breathe. You clear your throat. And the phone rings again. You pick up. I’ve been here eight months now. Not long. But long enough to know the rhythm. This job isn’t about smarts or motivation—it’s about routine. Muscle memory. You have to build your own little rhythm. Listening to terror all day eats at you—breaks you down slowly. I’ve seen it happen. New masks come in wide-eyed and curious, and by month two they’re breaking rules or just gone. My routine is pretty straightforward at this point. I get in at 6:45 a.m. sharp. Same elevator. Same gray carpet. Same cubicle by the fire exit. I don’t speak to anyone. It’s safer that way—chatter is dangerous for me and for whoever’s already picking up calls. At 7:00 a.m., my phone activates. The light goes on. Not a ring, never a ring. Just the light. Blue means wait. Red means answer. And when it’s red, you answer. You don’t greet them. You don’t ask questions. You just listen. And what you hear… Well. They’re always running. Always hiding. Always being chased by something they can’t quite describe. A little boy whispering, saying something is scratching at his door. His mom won’t wake up. A woman panting, saying she’s in the stairwell. Something is coming up behind her fast and the police aren’t answering her calls anymore. A man with a crushed voice, locked in a closet. He mutters that he hears footsteps pacing back and forth, right outside, stopping every time he breathes. Different voices. Same panic. Some of them say they’re in a hallway. Or a small bedroom. Or under a sink. Sometimes they describe this building. The call center. They’ll mention glass double doors. Or the color of the carpet. Or the smell of coffee from a nearby break room. Sometimes they describe the workers. “You have a mask,” they’ll say. “Black gloves—I know you. You can help me.” Then they scream. We’re not supposed to react. Not even a twitch. I’ve gotten pretty good at it—neutral face, steady hands. A woman once asked me to sing to her while something chewed its way through her front door. I didn’t. But I wanted to. It sticks to you. Even after the call ends. Especially then. We all handle it differently. Food, puzzles, fidgeting—anything to let out the tension. To cope, I sketch what they describe. Not out of interest or enjoyment—just release. Macabre, maybe, but it makes the images leave my head a little faster. Dark figures. Tall shadows. Doorways broken and bloody. A lot of staircases. And then, just when I start to forget— The light turns red again. The first few days were the hardest. But then my first check came in. After just one month on the job, I paid off my student loans. That crushing weight finally lifted. I felt like I could breathe again. A month later, I bought my first car—used, but reliable. Then I paid off my credit card debt. For the first time in years, the numbers in my bank account weren’t a burden I needed to figure out. Now? I live in a multi-bedroom loft right in the city. The kind of place with exposed brick walls and big windows that let in way too much sunlight. I’m driving the car I used to drool over in magazines—the one I thought I’d never afford. The money washes away the guilt at this point. Synthetic, manufactured guilt. Like a fresh coat of paint covering the grime beneath. Except the grime is just as processed as the paint at this point. Maybe that was the point all along. Just an expensive, extravagant experiment. A cold, corporate bet that people will do almost anything for the right amount of cash—even if it means listening to fake snuff calls for hours on end. That’s what I told myself. The calls were just noise. Background static to the paycheck. Until I heard something I never expected. It was a Tuesday afternoon. I was halfway through my shift—eyes drifting between the crossword puzzle I’d started yesterday and the dull glow of my screen. I was a little hungover, my head still fuzzy from last night’s bad decisions. Maybe that’s why I was so caught off guard. Maybe that is why I made this horrible mistake. The phone turned red, I picked up instinctively—my eyes still fixed on the crossword puzzle. “Hello? Is anyone there? I—I need help.” The voice was faint but unmistakable. It was her. Mabel. For a split second, I forgot where I was. Thought maybe I’d picked up my personal phone by mistake. My heart started to hammer. “Mabel?” I whispered before I could stop myself. The room was quiet. Not just the usual quiet of the call center, but something heavier, thicker. Like the room was holding its breath. I felt eyes on me—dozens of masked faces turned in my direction, watching. Waiting. I felt my face go red as hot embarrassment washed over me. I ducked my head below my cubicle wall—phone still pressed to my ear. Shit. I was done. Then Mabel spoke again. “Wait… Ariana?” I wanted to hang up, but something stopped me. I just didn’t understand—why was Mabel on the line? I’ve heard hundreds of simulated voices plead and beg for a response. I never imagined it could sound like someone you know. I was already reaching to hang up, but she said something strange. Something…unexpected. “Oh no… no, no, no,” she stammered, voice trembling with confusion. A cold shiver crawled down my spine. This wasn’t the Mabel I knew. Then she started laughing. Not the light, friendly laugh I remembered. A manic, broken laugh. It didn’t stop. I slammed the phone down. I spun around, heart racing—and there she was. A member of HR. Standing just at the edge of my cubicle. Black mask, notepad in hand. Expression unreadable. She motioned for me to follow. No words. Just a slow, deliberate walk toward her office. I sat down in the stiff plastic chair across from her desk, my mind still reeling. The call played on a loop in my head. The voice. The laugh. The way it sounded exactly like Mabel. I couldn’t stop shaking. “You broke the rules. Yes?” she asked flatly, scribbling in her notepad without looking up. “Yes, but—” “You understand this means you are terminated from the call center, correct?” She cut me off with such finality, like it was scripted. Like she was reciting lines from a procedure manual. “I recognized her,” I said. “The voice. I thought I picked up my own phone by accident. I thought maybe it wasn’t even—” That made her pause. She looked up for the first time. Her eyes were sharp behind the mask, almost disappointed. Or was it fear? “You thought what?” “It sounded like someone I knew. A friend of mine.” She didn’t write anything down now. Just stared at me. “When you first applied to this job, you answered two questions. Do you remember them?” I hesitated. My stomach turned. “They asked if I was good under pressure. And if I knew anyone who worked here.” “And how did you answer?” “No. I said no to both.” She stared a moment longer, then slowly ripped a sheet of paper from her pad and slid it across the desk. “You are hereby terminated from this experiment. You can collect your final check at the location printed on this slip. You’ve also been granted a severance equivalent to one month’s salary.” I blinked at her. “Wait—that’s all?” She didn’t respond. Just went back to typing. Like I wasn’t there anymore. No explanation. No follow-up about the call. No mention of what I heard. Just a polite termination and a severance bonus. I grabbed the paper without reading it and stormed out—past the rows of silent, masked employees, past the flickering overhead lights, and out into the daylight. I was halfway to my car when I realized I hadn’t even removed my mask. I didn’t look back. I felt everything over the next few days. Sadness, anger, confusion. Like my body kept going through the motions but my mind was stuck on a loop. That voice on the other end of the call. The thing that sounded like Mabel. I didn’t know what I was supposed to believe anymore. On the second day, I caved and called her. Straight to voicemail. That was weird. We were supposed to hang out next weekend—maybe grab drinks and vent about the call center. Mabel never ghosted me. Not even when she was sick or pissed or going through it. Something was off. By the third day, I decided I needed to get out of the house. Clear my head. The address they gave me for my severance package wasn’t far, so I drove out. It led me to a hotel. One of those upscale downtown places with giant flower arrangements and staff that wore gloves. I didn’t even see a front desk—just a wall of private mailboxes near the back. The code they gave me worked. The lock clicked open, and inside was a check. Neatly folded, like it had just been printed. I left and crossed the street to the parking garage where I’d left my car. As I reached the elevator, I paused. There was someone standing on the sidewalk a little ways down, right outside the garage entrance. Big blonde hair. Fur coat. Tall boots. Mabel? I stepped forward without thinking. Just a few feet—enough to get a better look. And that’s when I saw it wasn’t her. Not really. The thing looked like Mabel if she’d been made from melting wax. Too tall. Limping slightly. Her skin hung off her face in folds, sagging like old leather. Her mouth was slack. Her eyes— God, her eyes. Two hollow pits ringed with tiny, sharp, teeth. Her hands were worse. Loose skin, twisted fingers bent at angles that didn’t make sense. And yet people kept walking past her like she wasn’t there. They moved around her, avoided bumping into her, like she had a presence. She took up space, but no one looked. Not directly. They didn’t see her. Not really. If they did, they would have been as terrified as I was. The elevator behind me dinged and the doors opened. I ran inside, slammed the “close door” button with shaking fingers. As the doors slid shut, I heard footsteps on the concrete. Slow. Deliberate. Getting closer. Too close. I didn’t look. I didn’t want to see her again. The elevator dropped me off a few floors up. I got in my car and drove. Fast. Too fast. Every red light felt like a trap. Every time I glanced out my window, I expected to see her there on the sidewalk. Moving along in slow, rhythmic motion like a snail wearing human skin. I called a few friends on the way home. Just to hear voices. I didn’t tell them what I saw. Didn’t want to sound insane. But I felt insane. All those desperate calls I’ve been ignoring—month after month of people screaming and crying and begging—and now it’s like the floodgates have opened. Everything’s pouring in at once. Maybe I was having a breakdown. That’s what I kept telling myself. Listening to pain and anguish everyday will do that to you. I just needed rest. Some air. Maybe a little trip. I had money now. Enough to disappear for a few days. Clear my head. And if I still didn’t feel right afterward, I’d find a therapist. God knows I probably needed one anyway. I took a detour from my apartment elevator to stroll through the lobby. I wanted to grab a few snacks from the shop beside the front desk before settling in for the night. I needed a bottle or two of something strong to drown out the sadness from my termination from the call center. I was crossing the front desk when I caught sight of something in the corner of my eye. I turned, and there it was again. Mabel. Walking toward me from the lobby entrance. The sight gave me chills, but that feeling passed quickly. I felt steadier after the drive. More level headed. I wasn’t afraid. I was annoyed. This wasn’t real. It had to be some elaborate prank. Or a figment of my imagination. Either way, it couldn’t hurt me. I just needed to prove it to myself. I looked around. Everyone else was just walking past. I held my hands out, desperate. “Really? Nobody else is seeing this?” I took a few deep breaths and started toward it. “Hey sir—why are you following me?” I called out. The thing didn’t say anything. Just kept lurching forward. I stopped a few feet in front of it. The smell hit me first—sour, rotten. I winced at the sight of the bloated figure writhing and convulsing under its cheap Mabel disguise. “Did you hear me? This isn’t funny, creep. I’m going to get security—” Chomp. A mouth. It tore open from the thing’s stomach and bit off the finger I was waving at its chest. Just like that. Gone. I staggered back, screaming, clutching the bloody stump where my finger used to be. It kept limping forward. I screamed louder. Begging for help. No one looked. No one even paused. I turned and bolted toward the stairs, blood dripping behind me. I was halfway up when I heard the stairway entrance slam open. It was coming. I reached my floor and sprinted down the hall. Fumbled my key out of my purse with trembling, bloody hands. Got the door open. Locked it behind me. I backed away until my spine hit the wall at the other end of the apartment. I pulled my phone out and started dialing 911 with my good hand. Ring tone. Then silence. No connection? I checked my service. Full bars. This didn’t make any sense. I called friends. Family. My hairstylist. Nothing. No ring tone. Just silence. I cursed and rushed to the peephole. Nothing out there. Not yet. Just a wide, empty hallway. Blood was getting everywhere. I could feel my heartbeat in my hand from all the pain and swelling. I stumbled into my bedroom, wrapped my finger to stop the bleeding, and popped a few painkillers. Once that was taken care of, I sat at my desk and opened my laptop. Tried to get online. Email. Social media. Anything. Blank screen. No connection. I sat down and cried. I didn’t understand what was happening. Something was wrong. Not just with that thing in the hallway. Not just with me. Reality itself was broken. No one could hear me. No one could reach me. No one cared. I was isolated. Trapped. Food for something that wore my friend’s skin. Maybe that was all that was left of her. Then, it was here. I heard a few limping footsteps outside the door. The light underneath the front door was stifled by something large standing outside it. I held my breath. Waiting. But nothing happened. It just sat there. Doing nothing. I grabbed a knife and waited. It was bound to come in at some point. But it didn’t. Hours passed. It was well into the night and the shadow was still there. It didn’t make sense. I fumbled with my phone. I needed to get in contact with someone. I knew it was futile but I had to try again. But then, I heard something. Not from the phone—from the door. It was Mabel. “Hey…Ariana? I’m here. I need your help.” I didn’t move. I didn’t speak. It was her voice. But it sounded wet. Guttural. Like it was her whispering through the mouth of a corpse. “Don’t ignore me. Say something. Anything? I need to know you’re okay.” It was monotone. No concern in its voice. I carefully walked to my bedroom. Then, a loud bang. “Don’t walk away from me, Ariana. Talk. To. Me.” The voice was deeper now. Less Mabel. More... something else. I pushed my door closed with a soft click and covered my ears as a barrage of loud bangs broke out across the apartment. I heard them everywhere. My door. The ceiling above. The windows facing the city below. The sound passed after an hour. My body was so tired at this point. Partly exhaustion, partly the blood loss from my missing finger. I barricaded my door, clutched my phone, and rested my eyes in the empty bed. I slept maybe an hour or two before something woke me. I sprang up and looked toward the bedroom door. The shadow was under my bedroom door now. It had somehow gotten into my apartment. It was standing there the same way it had outside. But now it was here. I realized I couldn’t escape this thing. Whatever it was, it was going to get me. Slowly but surely. It had no issue entering my apartment. It would have no problem breaking into my room. Maybe it was toying with me. Maybe it enjoyed the chase. I felt panic wash over me. “Leave me alone!” I screamed. I heard a soft laugh break out just outside the door. I returned to my phone. Started calling everyone in my contact list again. Silence every time. Like the world outside my apartment building just vanished. Then I realized something. I realized the silence didn’t mean the calls were failing. They were going through. Every time. No ringing, no static—just quiet. Someone on the other end was always there. Always listening. It was the call center. Every call I made…was routed straight back to the center. I only figured it out because of a tiny, almost imperceptible sound—one you’d miss if you weren’t desperate enough to listen for it. A spoon, scraping the bottom of a plastic parfait cup. Debbie. From work. “Debbie?” I said into the phone. No response. Of course not. Debbie wasn’t her name. Just the one I gave her. None of us knew each other’s names. That’s how they designed it. Masks. Code numbers. Shift schedules that barely overlapped. “Hey—I know you. Well… not know you, but we work together. Please. Just say something. I think you can help me.” Still nothing. And that’s when it hit me. They wouldn’t answer. Not ever. They couldn’t. We don’t speak. Not to them. It didn’t matter what I said. How much I begged and cried. And could I really blame her? I ignored hundreds of calls just like this. That is when I broke. I started laughing. Loud, cracked, borderline hysterical. The same kind of laugh I heard from Mabel, that day she realized the truth. That she was calling the same people she sat next to every day. That none of us said a word. Not when it mattered. It was real. All of it. Real people. Real demons. God, those poor people. Men, women, and children. The poor children. The creature outside went quiet during my breakdown. Maybe it enjoyed my pain. Maybe it was hoping I’d walk out, still broken, right into its jaws. Once the laughter died and I steadied my breathing, I felt a strange mental clarity. Could’ve been the painkillers. Or sleep deprivation. Either way, I had an idea. If they respond, the creature moves on. That was my theory. I never got confirmation from Mabel, but she had tried it. She screamed into the phone until someone broke the rules. And the thing left her alone—at least that was the hope. I needed to get someone to answer. To break the rules. Like Mabel did. Like I did. I wracked my brain for anything I knew about the people I worked with. Something—anything—that could crack their armor. Then it hit me—Martha. She was always working during my shift. The one with the crossword puzzles and clacking acrylics. The only reason she came to mind was because I knew something about her I shouldn’t. We do our best to hide our identities—but every now and then something slips out. A phrase, the flash of a text on your personal phone, the hint of a tattoo. Her mistake was much more telling—and easy to forget. One day I saw a brochure sticking out of her purse. Assisted living facility. I recognized the name. My mom had looked into it for my grandfather once. Nice place. Private rooms. Big windows. Expensive. Probably why Martha took the job. I grabbed the phone. Started dialing. Random numbers. Cold calling the call center. Over and over. Same silent line. Same hollow weight. I listened for her. I waited for the familiar tap of nails on the cheap plastic desk. Fast, plasticky little clicks. Call. Hang up. Call. Hang up. Nothing. Was Martha even on rotation today? I started to feel hopeless. Outside the room, the door handle started to twitch. A soft rattle, like someone trying to figure out the lock. It would be in here soon. Then—I heard it. The clacking of nails. I prepped the script in my mind. I had one chance. “Hello?” I said in the calmest voice I could manage. No answer. I take another shaky breath before continuing. “I’m calling because your family member at Woodbrook’s is in the middle of a situation here.” I hoped this was the right angle. During my time working there, every call was frantic—desperate. Just like me. But I couldn’t show it. Not if I expected this to work. Nobody at the call center would expect something so calm and collected. The clacking stopped. I had her attention. Now I needed to drive it home. “Sorry to call this line. Someone at the call center said it was your work line? I just need to confirm some information. Let’s start with your last name.” I bit my tongue as the door began to unlock. It creaked open slowly. The barricade of furniture slid across the floor like it was a pile of empty boxes. I put my hand over my mouth to stifle a scream. What stood there wasn’t wearing Mabel’s skin anymore. That was gone—sloughed off like wet clothing. What remained was something raw. A bundle of dark flesh. Tentacles and mouths writhing in slow, deliberate motion. Snapping. Smacking. Clicking wetly against each other. They turned toward me slowly. The bundle of wiry flesh writhed towards me in unison. I closed my eyes and tried to keep my voice level. “Ma’am, this is an emergency. If I don’t get a directive right now I will need to call 911—” I felt warmth descending upon my face. A hundred little mouths breathing on my skin in anticipation. Then—she spoke. “Is my mom okay?” she asked. The sound of her voice felt like a lifeline being caught in the middle of the ocean. I opened my eyes. To my surprise, the thing was gone. I caught just the tip of a black tendril vanishing around the corner toward my front door. I grabbed the phone again. “Listen—this isn’t Woodbrook. I used to work with you. Something’s coming for you. The call center, it intercepts your calls, you need to get someone to respond—” The line went dead. I stood there, useless. I didn’t even know her name. Didn’t know what she looked like. And yet, I may have just sentenced her to a fate worse than what happened to me. Or Mabel. I felt sick. I didn’t leave my apartment for weeks. I needed time to process everything. I’m in a better headspace now. You can thank a lot of expensive therapy for that. I got into this job for the money. I didn’t care about the calls. I told myself they were fake. But that was a lie. The truth is—I was desperate. I don’t know if I would’ve taken the job if I’d known what was really going on. Honestly, I probably still would’ve. That’s what scares me. But now? I have a new purpose. A better one. I’m going to end the call center. I don’t know how yet. But I’m working on it. I owed it to Mabel. And Martha. I don’t care if I go broke. If I lose everything. There are more important things than money in this life. And this place is going to learn that the hard way. Until then, you’ve been warned. Don’t accept a job from the call center that ignores desperate people. Real people. Scared people being chased by a real threat. I managed to make it out. But most people won’t be so lucky. Most people will be hiding in their homes. Crying. Pleading. Begging a bunch of corporate morons in masks to save them from something truly evil. But if you already work in a place like the call center, it isn’t too late. If you can help, help. Don’t sit idly by and listen to injustice. Don’t let the corporations tell you it’s all synthetic garbage. Use your own judgement. Be kind. Be curious. You may just save someone’s life. submitted by /u/mythic_melon to r/nosleep [link] [comments]
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r/nosleep |
mythic_melon |
Jul 24, 2025 |
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MAGA friendly businesses in Lancaster County that advertise themselves on Public Square are being Boycotted
It's being reported that people are using public square, an "anti woke online marketplace" to boycott and avoid MAGA friendly businesses. There's a lot, so any that are missed please add them in the comments. Elizabethtown, Pennsylvania Zell Family Farm Integrity Health Alliance Paul’s Woodworks STUDIO57PRODUCTIONS Manheim, Pennsylvania Whitetail Woodcrafters 2 Mount Joy, Pennsylvania Darrenkamp Insurance Agency LLC Wissler Motors Marietta, Pennsylvania George's Furniture BrandNerd Ephrata, Pennsylvania The Exodus Companies Beams Music Store Health 4 Hope Butt Buffer Jd's Pazzo Pizza ELANCO Chiropractic and Rehabilitation Center Kitchens by Eileen Lancaster, Pennsylvania Joy Elizabeth Photography Interior Fancies S&N Handyman Services BE Energy LLC Josiah’s Oils Ron Martin Signs Taylor Chip Cookies Razlyn Cavazos Photography Prosper Mortgage Funding Mettle Financial Group Real Merchant Services of PA Uniq Nails & Spa Emulous Communications, Inc. Homestead Village Enhanced Senior Living Lancaster PA Realtor - Justin Gambone Lancaster Brake LLC Wizard Lock & Safe Co Nostalgica Coffee Simply Ghee Paul Davis Restorations Pete Design Co. Little Lady A LLC Cherry Hill Orchards Witmer's Moving and More Reformed Concrete LLC Lititz, Pennsylvania Kay.Nico Art Family Wealth & Wisdom, Inc. J Marconi Studios For A Dollar Plus DBA Harvest Gift Shop CropCare Equipment Stevens, Pennsylvania Closet 2 Closet Boutique Terre Hill, Pennsylvania Doorstep Dairy East Earl, Pennsylvania BNB Knives New Holland, Pennsylvania Dutch Country Exhaust and Tire LLC J&E Grill Manufacturing Leacock-Leola-Bareville, Pennsylvania Dianna Capka Photography Leola, Pennsylvania Blessings of Hope East Petersburg, Pennsylvania Claar Realty Neffsville, Pennsylvania Lancaster Therapy Center Mountville, Pennsylvania Dayspring Christian Academy Patricia's Hairstyling Center Gap, Pennsylvania Charlene Ranck - Realtor Kinzers, Pennsylvania Lancaster County Backyard Gordonville, Pennsylvania Welsh Stone Supply Narvon, Pennsylvania Ginger's Puppies Ronks, Pennsylvania Beacon Hill Camping Wall to Wall Floor Covering, LLC Bird in Hand, Pennsylvania Kauffman Orchards The Cottage and Loft Millersville, Pennsylvania Blue Rock Bed and Breakfast Integrative Life Counseling LLC Strasburg, Pennsylvania Agape Bioenergetic Health & Wellness Conestoga, Pennsylvania The CAD Connection Inc. Lancaster Cast Iron Quarryville, Pennsylvania Strickler's Barbershop Meadow Lane Distinctions Sanctuary Studio Christiana, Pennsylvania Dependable Solutions Cochranville, Pennsylvania Cope Construction and Renovation Kirkwood, Pennsylvania Burn Wood Customs Peach Bottom, Pennsylvania Three Ring Repair Honey Brook, Pennsylvania Compass Pizza Businesses without specific locations Karri's Creations Happy Hair Salon The Clay House Agape Care, Inc MariMar Galleria Jewelry Pinnacle Stair Railings TidyUp Cleaning Group ShadBoost LanCo Mechanical AvidSphere LLC Sound Dj Entertainment Dutch Country Exhaust and Tire LLC Edited to clarify Business themselves choose to advertise on this website, with Public Square making the following statements. "By using Public Square, the anti-woke online marketplace, you can easily find and support businesses committed to protecting faith and family." "The company, which launched in 2022, has direct connections to Trump, too: Its board of directors includes Donald Trump Jr., who also is an investor." https://www.yahoo.com/news/website-maga-friendly-businesses-backfires-100029564.html https://www.public square.com/blog/culture/parallel-economy-meaning submitted by /u/Buffalobbq to r/lancaster [link] [comments]
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r/lancaster |
Buffalobbq |
Apr 30, 2025 |
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Built-in bunk room with 6 beds and a reading loft
I want to share this bunk room my father and I built in an existing poolhouse for my boss. We built a wall to separate it and make it it's own room. We did twin xl beds up top and full xl on the bottom with privacy walls, large pull out drawers, oak stairs treads, cubbies with outlets on each bed and wired with wall sconce lights as well as a reading loft up top to utilize the space. We were working with a sloped roof on each end so we built a wall above the beds to make it look built in. I couldn't find any pictures of something like this for an odd shaped roof like I needed for inspiration while designing it. I figured I would share for those who are looking to do something similar. We love how it came out. Total cost of materials: approx. $5,000 Took me and my father a month to build the structure and me alone another few weeks to finish all of thr small details. Labor charged $30k Total cost $35k Bed Paint color is Benjamin Moore Revere Pewter Semi-Gloss Wall Paint color is Sherwin Williams Alabaster Satin Built with cabinet grade plywood 1/2" & 3/4", 2x4 & 2x6, quarter round & oak stair treads submitted by /u/PhysicalSwordfish727 to r/Carpentry [link] [comments]
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r/Carpentry |
PhysicalSwordfish727 |
Mar 29, 2025 |
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How to secure loft bed stairs to wall
Long time listener, first time caller. I bought a homemade loft bed with some stairs included but the stairs originally attached to the previous owners wall in a way I can't do myself here(it was because of the layout he had). The steps are pretty secure just leaning up against the wall as is. I tested it by walking up them and they didn't budge, but I would like to add something extra for stability for some extra reassurance as I have a small pet living in this room. I don't have a large wood shop but I am very familiar with all kinds of tools and have access to a friend's woodshed as well as hand tools. The steps are not attached to the bed, but I was considering just putting a screw at the top of the stairs into the bed. Thanks in advance! submitted by /u/ToadallyKyle to r/woodworking [link] [comments]
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r/woodworking |
ToadallyKyle |
Dec 6, 2024 |
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Wearing Power Armor to a Magic School (32/?)
First | Previous | Next Patreon | Official Subreddit | Series Wiki Dragon’s Heart Tower, Level 23, Residence 30. Thacea and Emma’s Bedroom. The Tent. Local Time: 0500 Hours. Emma Booker I fucked up. Big time. And I had no one else but myself to blame. You know that feeling when you dive head-first into a project that you had zero doubts would somehow work itself out in the end? The sudden surge of confidence that comes when you let the indomitable human spirit take the wheel? Well that was me at 0300 hours when my eyes landed upon the hygiene module, and pictured the inevitable outcome of a steaming hot shower after an entire day of nonstop grinding. I couldn’t help myself but to fall into the same trap as every other would-be DIY-er. I couldn’t stop the excitement, the sudden surge of energy, and the absolute hyperfixation that came with completing a project that promised nothing but endless positives, at the expense of some time and effort that would prove minimal in the grand scheme of things. And just like every would-be DIY-er, I was this close to completing the task at hand, before finally reaching a roadblock that inevitably brought everything to a screeching halt. FINAL STEP: REFER TO [UNDESIGNATED WATER SOURCE] FOR ATTACHMENT OF INTAKE PIPE [EIP23] TO EXTERNAL PUMPING MODULE [EPM-1]. That one, final instruction, decimated me. Especially as I got to that final step at just shy of 0500 hours, when I finally had the entire damn module set up, only to realize that I had missed out on a vital pre-procedure checklist that I’d purposefully skipped because I’d assumed it would be a non-issue. ENVIRONMENTAL PREREQUISITE: LOCATE, EVALUATE, AND SECURE A RELIABLE WATER SOURCE. And that’s why I only had myself to blame for this fiasco. Because I’d assumed that the availability of a water-source in the dorms would’ve been an open and shut case. It only made sense for me to make that assumption though, as I saw that Thacea had clearly used the dorm’s en-suite to shower just the night before. It was because of this that I didn’t even bother checking the bathroom to begin with. I thought that whatever was in there could’ve easily fit the hyper-modular fittings of the source-intake pipe. Things couldn’t have been further from the truth however, as what I saw within that bathroom made me question the very fabric of my own reality. As within those four marble walls, was nothing. Nothing, but a series of dull flat marble surfaces, and some strange wall-fittings that looked like something out of a 21st century ‘modern’ art exhibit. There was nothing here that resembled a tap, or even hinted at the fact that there were even any pipes carrying running water behind those four bare walls. The only other thing of note here was an unseen light source keeping the bathroom lit. Aside from that, there was literally nothing else here. This meant I had only one option available to me. The most logical and straightforward option, of simply nudging the avinor princess awake just so I could ask where I could find a fucking tap. Whilst it was the most straightforward thing to do, I just couldn’t get myself to do it. I’d thought about going up those stairs to nudge the avian awake, to then apologize profusely for disturbing her sleep… but given everything Thacea had done for me thus far, and considering the fact that I was responsible for almost all of the headaches we were currently experiencing, it just felt wrong for me to disturb here at that hour. So I was left with the inconvenient truth of my circumstances, and decided to just embrace the suck, toughing out the folly of my hubris… At least, until morning came around. At that point, I could rest easy in actually asking the princess for pointers on the enigmatic machinations of the bathroom. Until then, I would sleep. And hopefully, my shortsighted adventure would bear some fruit when morning rears its ugly head around. Dragon’s Heart Tower, Level 23, Residence 30. Thacea and Emma’s Bedroom. Local Time: 1000 Hours. Emma Booker Good news: Half of my hard work actually paid off. Bad news: Only half of my hard work actually paid off. Upon waking up three hours later, forcing my carcass up and back into the suit, I’d managed to flag down Thacea just as she was getting out of bed. The princess’ reactions to my questions were nothing short of the politeness I’d expected from her. Which managed to put me at ease as I was getting worried I was starting to get on her nerves with my constant flurry of questions. The bathroom turned out to be yet another demonstration of the Nexus’ completely unhinged philosophies. As it relied entirely on a mana user’s manipulation of the room to operate. Apparently, whoever designed this place took the whole concept of a modular, personalized room, and just ran with it. Making it so that every aspect of the room relied solely on the mana user to work, as they had to shape, form, and structure the otherwise blank slate before use. This was supposedly done so that the room could be made to fit the precise criterion of a person’s liking. To me however, it just felt like another bizarre concept pulled straight out of the Nexus’ seemingly endless idea-pool of zany, overkill, and mana-addled solutions to problems that sort of existed. Thankfully, the bathroom didn’t require constant intervention from a mana-user to operate, as certain elements could be permanently turned on. This included the water mains, which I immediately hooked up the pipes to, as the mana-contaminated water was quickly siphoned into a series of filtration units, all with the express purpose of extracting and removing every ounce of mana present within the water. This process took about two hours to do. But by the end of it, I was rewarded for all my troubles by one of the best showers I’ve ever had. All of the stress, even the constant ticking of the bomb which constantly gnawed at the back of my mind, seemed to fade away for a few short minutes as the warm water washed everything away. But that about wrapped up the good news. The bad news however, came in the form of the little MREDD experiment from the previous night. As I opened the triple-airlocked compartment on my side of the tent, I was met with what could only be described as ‘food’ in name and aesthetics alone. The soft, white, fluffy loaf of bread had literally become a baton. Whilst the pancakes were now more reminiscent of a mini-frisbee that cracked and crumbled the moment I laid my fingers on them. My immeasurable disappointment grew the longer I stood there next to the MREDD, and the longer I stared at the small stack of dust that was once a perfectly cooked stack of pancakes. Beyond this however, I could feel a bit of anxiety seeping in, as the results of the experiment did make me a bit anxious as to the long-term food security of this mission. Then again, I should’ve expected this result. It was the first calibration test after all. “I should’ve expected this, shouldn’t I?” I spoke to no one in particular, but quickly garnered the attention of the EVI who remained within the power armor that currently stood imposingly just a few feet away from me. “That is correct, Cadet Booker. As you are already aware, the MREDD is designed with multiple calibration protocols in-effect, each which correspond to the type and densities of the foodstuffs to be desaturated. In addition to this, the systems are designed to test the maximal extraction threshold against the subjective palatability gradient with the food safety variable as an integral aspect of these tests. Thus, the first-round extraction procedures dictate that the MREDD will attempt maximal extraction settings, in order to both stress-test the components and systems, as well as to garner data on the mana-extraction process at the maximal setting.” I blinked rapidly upon hearing the EVI’s explanation being blasted from my suit’s speakers. It felt somewhat jarring turning around to face my armor talking to me. But then again, I should’ve expected it, as I’d yet to set up any other speaker systems within the tent for it to speak through. “I know, EVI. They already ran everything by me during the briefings. Though I would be lying if I didn’t say I sort of hoped that putting the food under full blast for 7 hours would’ve somehow miraculously resulted in something edible.” I managed out with a sigh. “Cadet Booker, it is logical to assume that since the extraction of mana from both food and water is indeed viable, that the only point of contention is now the palatability of the foodstuffs rendered through the MREDD.” “Yeah, well…” I trailed off as I began tapping on the loaf of bread that sounded like styrofoam when I hit it against the armor. “I think you and I have different definitions of palatable.” “I am confident that the mana-extraction process can be optimized, Cadet Booker. It is at this point that I must ask that you assess the palatability of the designated foodstuff marked CONSUMABLE GROUP A, ITEM 1, for the purposes of data-gathering and analysis.” The AI spoke in a no-nonsense fashion, as I turned around, giving it a look of utter incredulity. “You want me to try to eat this?” I shot back, tapping on the styrofoam bread for added effect. “I require data on the palatability of foodstuff A-1 [BREAD] as it is a subjective dataset relying entirely on the input of the human subject.” The AI continued. I couldn’t help but to shudder at that last line, especially with how it was delivered. Popular media back home was currently going through another AI-apocalypse phase, with a lot of movies, both immersive and traditional, diving deep into the uncomfortable topics of human-AI relations post AI-takeover. Being stuck in a bare, white tent, with a monotone, somewhat disgruntled-sounding VI talking to me through a suit of armor several heads taller than me all the while suddenly referring to me as subject really wasn’t doing my movie-binging gremlin brain any favors. I hesitated for a few seconds, tentatively staring at the bread, then the armor, then back to the bread again, before finally just going for it... CRUNCH It did not end well. “Cadet Booker, I did not require that you actively consume a foodstuff you consider inedible or are uncomfortable eating. I merely needed a dataset for the purposes of this experiment, even if that data-set is a refusal to consume the foodstuff in question.” I stared back at the VI with unamused eyes and a mouthful of hard-tack currently turning my mouth into the Greater Sahara. “Damnghit Aeevi.” I managed out with a mouth full of bland, stale bread, before reaching for the water dispenser which thankfully still had some mana-free water inside of it. “Shall I log A-1 down as unpalatable then, Cadet?” The AI spoke with a hint of disappointment in its voice. Though I was probably just imagining the actual tone of its voice. Projection was a heck of a thing after all. “Yes. And make sure you clarify your intent next time.” I snapped back, as I finished up what limited bits of housekeeping I needed to for now. Which included punting the balled-up undersuit into the washer, getting the wash and dry cycle started, before grabbing a fresh undersuit from the cargo airlock and quickly putting it on. “I guess the next test with the MREDD includes extracting mana at a slow, sustained rate?” I spoke as I began recalibrating the different electronic components within the undersuit. “Correct, Cadet Booker. Provided of course, that the foodstuffs are of a similar type, and contain similar properties to GROUP A.” “Acknowledged.” I responded promptly, shuddering a bit as the haptic feedback finished its calibration cycles. “Alright then, we got a lot of work ahead of us, so let’s get going. System status, SRR?” I asked as per protocol, steadying my hand on the suit’s ‘backpack’. “Diagnostics running… pending… All systems nominal, Cadet Booker. Status: Ready for standard operations.” “Operator acknowledges system status after pre-mission diagnostics.” I replied dryly, and with a few final breaths I pulled myself back into the armor. “Current objectives? Preferably the ones I listed before dozing off last night?” I continued, as my eyes quickly readjusted to the constant assault on the senses that was the HUD. “Priority Objective: Locate and Secure Container 10. Current time remaining until activation of the Denial of Sensitive Assets to Unauthorized Parties Protocols**… 36 hours, 34 minutes, and 47 seconds.”** “Alright then, let’s pay a visit to our dear old friend… hopefully she’s alive and lucid enough to get us to the bottom of this little predicament.” Dragon’s Heart Tower, Level 23, Residence 30. Thacea and Emma’s Bedroom. Local Time: 1020 Hours. Emma Booker Transitioning from the tent to the marble and cobblestone world of the Academy was always jarring. Opening those external protective flaps to reveal something that wasn’t more bare white paneling and drab gray composalite would probably be something I’d need to get used to. I got into the swing of things quick enough, as I was met with the likes of Thacea who was busy reading on one of the many ornate seats that formed the mini-living room within our loft. “Was the water to your liking, Emma?” Thacea asked with a clack of her beak. “I managed to squeeze in a couple minutes worth of a shower, so that’s a win in my book!” I beamed out. “But with a constant stream of filtered water filling up my reservoirs now, I should be able to get something more substantial later tonight.” The princess nodded slowly at that. “The lengths to which you need to go, just to attain what we take for granted on a daily basis, is quite remarkable Emma.” “It is what it is, Thacea.” I shrugged in response. “The very air I breathe needs to be filtered. This whole world, or heck, even your worlds are actively hostile to human life. These measures are something that are cumbersome, and seriously draining to deal with, but it’s necessary. Besides, it’s not as if these measures are something new where I come from. My people have had a history of intrepid explorers, brave pioneers, and foolish thrillseekers who all surge forward into inhospitable domains just so they can crest the next wave, or see what’s over the next hill.” I paused for a moment, as I was tempted to strike a pose, but quickly decided against it. “I’m just furthering a legacy that’s already been established. Or at least, I hope I’m doing that. Heck if I know if I’m actually doing things right. Nine times out of ten, I feel like I’m just making the best of my situation.” “I can’t say I can understand the appeal of this legacy of actively seeking hostile-domains.” Thacea responded with an equal mix of curiosity and genuine concern. “And I do not know what manner of civilization would result from such a culture, though I do harbor a morbid curiosity to inquire further… However, I can most certainly resonate with your latter statements, Emma. Half of the court politics I contend with simply amounts to making do with the hand you’ve been dealt, of making best of one’s situation, and doing whatever it is in your limited scope and power to maintain life, security, and perhaps some waning semblance of your own personal liberty. It’s a great game, where doubt comes naturally as a result of being a player and not the host.” There was a small pause that followed Thacea’s response as one point in particular caught my attention more than any other. It was unfortunate that it was so topical as well, given how if things had turned out any differently, this conversation would’ve moved right on into an hours-long exchange of life and culture. Thacea mentioning the concept of a great game, immediately brought me back to the conversation with Ilunor the previous night. “Thacea… would you mind if I consulted you on something?” I began, as the gears in my head began turning now at the first major issue of the day. The princess seemed to catch on as she leaned forward in her seat intently, and nodded. “By all means.” “Something happened last night at the workshop, and it wasn’t anything to do with the armorer… though, we can talk about that later.” I took a deep breath as I shelved that topic for another time. “Did you happen to pay any attention to Ilunor’s whereabouts after I left for the workshop?” “Not particularly, no. Lord Rul-, erm, Ilunor had seemingly remained in his room until Thalmin and I retired to our respective rooms. After that, I simply have no recollection of anything beyond my own domicile.” “Well, Ilunor followed me to the workshop.” I stated plainly, pausing for a moment to gauge Thacea’s reaction. Of which there really was none as she managed to keep that signature poker-face that was probably second nature to her by now. “And I’m assuming since you managed to uncover this, that his meddling had failed in some way shape or form?” Thacea shot back coolly. “Correct. However, here’s where things get complicated. I’ll save the bulk of the events for later, but long story short, that discount kobold decided to use some sort of a projection spell to spook me just as I was in the middle of the weapons inspection with the armorer, and the projection used wasn’t just something a random monster or anything… he purposefully chose to bring out a carbon-copy version of the null.” Thacea’s face shifted at this, which given how difficult it was to phase her, probably meant her mind was going through the full implications of this revelation. I pressed on as Thacea urged me to continue with a single nod. “Well, I shot it. And, no, nobody was hurt. Fast forward a chase sequence later, and the armorer eventually managed to corner and capture Ilunor. However, when we pressed him for answers about why he was there to begin with? Well… I think it’ll be better for you to see for yourself.” It was with this that I brought out my data-pad, and began replaying the relevant scenes for Thacea to see. Starting from the brief spats between Ilunor and the armorer, all the way to my confrontation with the diminutive lizard, Thacea’s gaze remained completely transfixed. She did flinch a bit when the footage finally went over my dealings with the lizard, and Ilunor’s sudden shift in persona as I pulled out the library card and began talking his language. Yet despite being inundated with this sudden flood of information, with a completely unexpected tangent, she soon responded cooly and without much in the way of a delay. “This complicates matters.” She began slowly. “This entire situation calls for a complete reevaluation of the dynamics of this peer group, and how we need to approach Lord Rul-, Ilunor.” Thacea promptly corrected herself before continuing. “There’s a great number of layers to this unexpected development, each of which hints at a greater game being played here, and points at the fact that there are a great number of interested parties beyond just Ilunor.” The princess took a moment to let out an exasperated coo, her eyes finally moving away from the tablet and back to me. “You must understand as well as I, that Ilunor’s actions do not constitute a scheme of his own making, correct?” “That I do.” I nodded simply. “The fact that he’s even bothering to do this in the first place is outside of his whole I’m above you persona. I’m not sure if the same rings true here, but where I come from, becoming a spook is not something that most people in high and mighty positions would ever stoop down to. Besides, I think we have a lead. I don’t think a student would actively defer a bit of punishment from a lower level administrator, in order to fast-track it to the highest authorities if they weren’t in cahoots with them.” “This coincides with my observations of these developments as well, Emma.” Thacea responded with a resonant chirp. “To add to this, his knowledge of the null is most certainly not circumstantial, and considering he was absent from our adventures the previous day, his knowledge of this creature would hint to either the feeding of information via a higher benefactor, or a direct observation of our activities from afar. Either way, this does not bode well.” “This leads me to what I wanted to consult you on, Thacea. If Ilunor’s out there waiting for us right now, would it be best if we confronted him outright in front of Thalmin or-” “No.” Thacea interjected sharply, and with a certainty that was almost uncharacteristic of her. “Confronting Ilunor out in the open, in front of others not privy to you and the Vunerian’s current game, would be outright suicide to the dialogue you’ve managed to broker with him the previous night. You’ve managed to prove yourself as not just another pawn, but a player in the game, at least in Ilunor’s eyes. It would be wise to maintain that momentum, Emma. By continuing this line of dialogue with him in private, there is a higher likelihood the Vunerian will divulge more information as he speaks to you frankly, beyond what his current facade will allow. This is now a matter between you and the Vunerian, as Thalmin and I are not privy to these political transactions.” I couldn’t help but to mimic the princess by gripping my forehead as well, letting out a sigh as the dread of complex court politics had begun seeping in faster than I expected. “That shouldn’t be too hard to do. I’ll just let that situation slide for now, making sure not to mention my dealings with Ilunor when he’s around, and focus instead on our other problems. It’s not like we have a shortage of other things to worry about after all.” I sighed sharply. “That is an acceptable plan. ” Thacea responded promptly as she stood up and began straightening out her uniform. “Right then, shall we proceed?” Dragon’s Heart Tower, Level 23, Residence 30. Living Room. Local Time: 1025 Hours. Emma Booker As we exited the bedroom, we were once more met with a similar sight reminiscent of the previous day’s. As there, on the couch, were the bickering pair that had seemed to have carried over their arguments from the previous night. Except this time, the context seemed to have thankfully shifted to something new. “Every minute I waste in this room for the sake of that Earthrealmer is another minute that I grow increasingly more famished. It is unbecoming of a noble to sit in waiting for a commoner. In fact, it should be the other way around. Or perhaps this is yet another one of your Havenbrockian reforms that test the Nexus’ patience, Prince Thalmin?” I could hear Ilunor snapping at Thalmin just as we made our way into the living room proper. Thalmin, amazingly, resisted responding in kind as he got up as soon as we made our way towards the pair. “We were waiting for the both of you, but it should be fine. Should we miss the breakfast, there is always an a la carte menu we can-” “I have met the criterion for your unlawful detainment, mercenary. Thus, I shall take my leave.” Ilunor promptly jumped off from the couch and began trotting his way over to the door, his little legs were clearly attempting to generate some sort of a forceful series of thumps as he did so, but only resulted in a light series of taps given his diminutive size. “Hold on a minute there! That wasn’t our agreement! You agreed to-” “I agreed to wait for the Earthrealmer and the tainted one. I have no other reason to be here. Now, I must resume my extracurriculars. You lot can do whatever it is you get up to. I will be having none of it.” Ilunor turned to face the Lupinor one final time, before slamming the front door shut, and skittering off. This made things so much simpler as it meant we were in the clear for now. “I’m sorry princess.” Thalmin turned to face Thacea. “I thought we might be able to squeeze something out of him yet, but the Vunerian continues to be as squirmy as a prairie rodent.” “It’s quite alright, Thalmin.” Thacea began, as she turned towards me as if to confirm whether or not I wanted her to proceed on my behalf. To which I did. “There are a few matters we must address regarding Ilunor, which I suggest we do over a short breakfast, as we have even more pressing matters following this.” After a reluctant pause, the lupinor prince nodded in agreement, leading to both of us sitting down- ALERT: LOCALIZED SURGE OF MANA-RADIATION DETECTED, 275% ABOVE BACKGROUND RADIATION LEVELS -and a privacy screen being brought down soon after. “So, shall we talk about this over a brunch platter?” The Transgracian Academy for the Magical Arts, En Route to the Healing Wing. Local Time: 1050 Hours. Thalmin’s reactions were nothing short of what I’d expected. There was absolute outrage, followed by an unrepentant series of growls, capped off with barks of seething anger at the same clips I’d played for Thacea earlier. The mercenary prince was perhaps even more uncomfortable than I was at my entry into this game, as it was clear Thalmin despite his noble heritage, wasn’t really one to dabble in it at all. “I’m telling you Emma, this is a dangerous path forward. Are you certain you are making the wisest choice?” He spoke once again, continuing the conversation from earlier, underneath yet another privacy screen Thacea was maintaining as we approached the medical wing. “I don’t like it either, Thalmin. There’s nothing more I hate than playing politics, but it’s unfortunately a pill I have to swallow if we’re going to get to the bottom of the issues surrounding Ilunor. I mean, I overheard you guys arguing late into the night. I really don’t think confronting him normally is going to get us anywhere.” The lupinor let out a sigh of defeat at that, as he lowered his head in my general direction. “I can’t fault that logic, Emma. Perhaps… speaking his language, as you put it, would bring us some resolution to this frankly irritating problem. However…” The Lupinor’s voice lowered, just as we were about to reach the doors to the healing wing proper. “I know how these games work, Emma. It’s dangerous, so make sure you tread lightly, and just know that I, as part of your peer group, am here to support you should the need arise.” The prince reassured me with a smirk, as we pushed past the double doors and into the medical wing proper. Or at least, that’s what I thought, as we entered what looked to be a massive circular room with multiple branching hallways connected to it like spokes on a wheel. In typical Academy-fashion however, the room really wasn’t at all modest with its size. As it went up a solid twenty or so stories, with high pillars piercing straight up into a marble-lined rotunda with moving murals painted on it like some grand cathedral. Between these pillars were little outcroppings where several gargoyles were perched. Gargoyles which I could swear were looking straight at us. ALERT: LOCALIZED SURGE OF MANA-RADIATION DETECTED, 425% ABOVE BACKGROUND RADIATION LEVELS My gut was proven right again, as it only took a few seconds after our entry for these stony beasts to come to life, with multiple bursts of mana-radiation accompanying what could only be described as the sounds of cracking concrete. Soon enough, several large gargoyles made harsh, heavy landings right in front of us. The two closest to us held out their arms, before zapping two stony spears into existence, crossing them in a clear display to stop us from going any further. “Halt!” A voice commanded from above, as a shadowy figure landed right in front of the two gargoyles blocking our path. The figure’s face was hidden underneath an unnatural shadow casted by his hood, revealing just two trapezoidal lights where his eyes should be. “The healing wing is currently off-limits to visitors. So state your ailment, or leave where you came from.” The voice boomed, echoing throughout the large open space, as all eyes within the room now landed squarely on us. First | Previous | Next (Author’s Note: Hey guys! We see more glimpses of Emma's quality of life getting set up here, and we're now making our way over to the apprentice! I hope you guys enjoy! :D The next Chapter is already up on Patreon if you guys are interested in getting early access to future chapters!) [If you guys want to help support me and these stories, here's my ko-fi ! And my Patreon for early chapter releases (Chapter 33 of this story is already out on there!)] submitted by /u/Jcb112 to r/HFY [link] [comments]
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r/HFY |
Jcb112 |
May 28, 2023 |
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Made my 5 year old a loft bed with stairs, and a fiber optic starry ceiling
submitted by /u/groovy604 to r/CozyPlaces [link] [comments]
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r/CozyPlaces |
groovy604 |
Jan 30, 2023 |
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OOP wonders if he's the AH for giving his son's room to his injured daughter
I am not OP. Original post and update by u/aitainjureddaughter in r/amitheasshole Original (posted 5 days ago): https://www.reddit.com/r/AmItheAsshole/comments/wilhoj/aita_for_giving_my_sons_room_to_my_daughter/?utm_medium=android_app&utm_source=share AITA for giving my son's room to my daughter My daughter, Olivia (18), is moving in with me, my wife, and our 4 sons, Jason (15), Max (12), Nathan (8), and Nolan (7). Olivia was just in an accident that left her with multiple severe injuries including a fractured skull, a severe concussion, spinal cord damage, a broken jaw, and multiple broken ribs. She will be in a wheelchair for a while and will need help with everyday tasks like changing and bathing and it's ideal that she has her own bathroom. We have 2 offices that are being used for guest rooms but neither of them will fit a bed for Olivia and have room for her wheelchair and a cot (my wife and I are planning on taking turns sleeping in her room in case she needs anything), only one of them are downstairs, and it's only close to a half bath, so it would be hard for her to take a bath or shower. Jason has a big room downstairs, it was the master bedroom but we renovated and added a new master bedroom for me and my wife. It has plenty of room for everything Olivia would need and there's a huge bathroom attached. We talked to all of the boys about Olivia coming to live with us when she gets out of the hospital and that we'd need to move rooms around. Nathan and Nolan are going to be sharing a room (they're pretty stoked) and Jason would move into Nolan's room. It would be painted however he'd like and he can pick out new furniture. Jason wasn't too happy about that because his new room is closer to all of his brothers and it's smaller so we compromised and now he gets Nolan's room and the downstairs office will be his game room, under the condition that there will be a futon/sleeper sofa that guests can use if the other guest room isn't available. I thought Jason was happy, he has 2 rooms and a half bath pretty much all to himself, but he's been complaining a lot about us giving Olivia his room, especially over the past couple days when we've been making the bathroom more accessible for her. Now I'm starting to wonder if I'm an asshole for giving Jason's room to Olivia. Edit: go easy on Jason. 15 is a rough age. Update (posted 13 hours ago): https://www.reddit.com/r/AmItheAsshole/comments/wmmmub/update_aita_for_giving_my_sons_room_to_my_daughter/?utm_medium=android_app&utm_source=share UPDATE: AITA for giving my son's room to my daughter This update is less about the bedroom and more about Olivia/our current situation First of all, Olivia is finally out of the ICU! She's still in the hospital but she's doing great and we think she'll be able to come home within a week. She's already walking short distances with a walker and it looks like she will have minimal long term brain and spinal cord damage. We're almost finished working on Olivia's room so hopefully it'll be done by the time she gets home. The police also found the man that did this to her. He's in prison and we're suing for whatever we can. We're not going to let him get away with this. As I mentioned in the comments of my other post, my wife is a nurse. She's been feeling pretty burned out lately so she's quitting her job and is going to help with Olivia (we will have a caretaker here so she'll mostly do mornings before her caretaker comes and evenings after they leave). The boys are doing great. The younger two are still very excited about their loft beds (couldn't agree on who gets the top bunk so this way they're both top bunk) and their beds have forts and slides so they never want to leave their room. We also got them each a Nintendo Switch Lite and a couple games to thank them for being so good about sharing a room. Max's life hasn't changed much except, since the younger two play in their room and Jason has his own game room (I'll get into why we gave him that later), he usually has the family game room to himself. I'd like to address why we gave Jason 2 rooms. When we renovated and gave everyone new rooms, Jason started working on his gaming setup. He's worked odd jobs like tutoring, mowing lawns, walking dogs, etc. to buy a nice monitor, build a computer, get the furniture he wanted, and the consoles he wanted. He paid for it almost entirely with money he earned from working, his allowance, his lunch money (he'd make his lunch and pocket the money), and birthday or Christmas money. This setup is very important to him and he doesn't let anyone, except occasionally Max, touch it. His room is also farther from his brothers so he can play with his friends after his brothers go to bed and it won't bother us or them and if his brothers wanted to play video games they'd go to the game room since it's right outside their room. Jason was worried that they'd go to his new room to play video games instead of the game room because he has newer consoles and better games and because it's also right next to their room. The other big issue was space. Jason is moving into Nolan's old room, which is less than half the size of his old room. There wasn't enough space for his bed, dresser, desk, and the gaming setup that he worked so hard to build. Giving him the small office/guest room that we rarely use solved almost every issue. He knows it's still available as a guest room if the other office upstairs is taken or we gave a guest that can't walk up the stairs. Notable comments: 1) Commenter- "INFO: Could you please elaborate on your family make-up? Why do you refer to her as your daughter only? Do your son and daughter get along? If not, why?" OOP's reply- "Olivia is my daughter from a previous relationship. Olivia is not very close with any of my sons. She and her mom live 22 hours away by car and she has her own life there so she doesn't visit often." ~ 2) Commenter- "NTA. You've done pretty much everything you could do to make this transition easier on your boys. The youngest ones are stoked to share a room for a while to help their big sister - they sound like super sweet little dudes. You didn't mention how Max is adjusting, probably because his room situation is unchanged. But the eldest boy is struggling. Some of this may come down to overall stress due to worry for his sister, and of course a loss of a sense of control both due to that and then having it mean his room is moved. 2 rooms (a game room with a futon which is primarily or entirely his? Lucky kid!) and the half bath is plenty. It's more than enough, in fact. Your daughter needs the large, first floor room with the accessible bathroom - and it's fortunate that you're able to provide that. It's a little crappy for Jason who's used to the nicer room and private bath and is losing them through no fault of his own, but that does not make you an AH. He can have feelings about this, but he's 15 and does ultimately need to accept the reality here that his sister needs this - and it's not his fault, her fault, or your fault. And he cannot make his feelings her problem. Make sure to take some time to talk with all your kids about their feelings around their sister's accident - having a relative almost die in an accident is terrifying - and everything that's going on. Does Max resent Jason getting his own special extra game room? But be assured that you are not an AH for needing to move Jason. It's a really crappy situation all around and there'll be some adjustment for everyone. All the best to your lovely family and I wish a speedy recovery for your daughter." OOP's reply - "Max does not resent Jason. Max has a good sized room that has room for his hobbies. Jason's new room is a lot smaller and he doesn't have room for his gaming set up (that he mostly paid for himself) and he doesn't want it in the family game room because his younger brothers are pretty young and could mess it up so he's getting a second small room away from everyone so he doesn't have to downsize or worry about his brothers messing with it. He does know that the second room is still a guest room and that half bath is not his." ~ 3) Commenter- "Admittedly, why can't she stay with her Mum through this? Is it because she doesn't want to, or because her place isn't accessible enough? Will she be OK with your wife - aka "not her mum" - helping her change and bathe? Will she be OK with her father helping her instead? These are things that you gotta do for your kids, but has she had any input at all in how she's gonna be cared for?" OOP's reply- "I'm not going to go into it but she was not safe living with her mom, which I did not know until recently. And yes, she's okay with my wife (who is a nurse) helping her. I think she'd actually prefer having my wife help her." ~ 4) Commenter- "Wait, the OP was 5 days ago and in it you said your daughter was just in an accident but I am supposed to believe the guy that hit her is already in prison?" OOP's reply- "She was in the accident a little over a week before I posted. It's very possible that the police found the guy and arrested him within 2 weeks." I am not OP. This is a repost sub. submitted by /u/ThatNeonSignLover to r/BestofRedditorUpdates [link] [comments]
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r/BestofRedditorUpdates |
ThatNeonSignLover |
Aug 13, 2022 |
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TIFU by sleeping in a loft.
This literally happened last night. TLDR at the bottom. So my husband and I are celebrating our one year anniversary with a “minimoon” since we didn’t take a honeymoon when we got married. We decided to go to a romantic touristy island near Canada for the weekend and do sightseeing and eat all the fudge we can before getting diabetes (some of you can probably guess where we’re at by now). Now, staying on the island itself is crazy expensive, so I found us a cute little Air B&B “tiny house” style cabin to stay in instead. It’s cute, has a sauna, fire pit, and a loft bed area. The drive up was long and uneventful. When we got to the cabin we decided to find a fun place to eat and have a few local beers before turning in. This was my first mistake. I ended up drinking four hard ciders of unknown alcohol content and getting a pretty good buzz. We decide when we get back to the cabin to just go straight to bed, so we crawl up there and pass out. I slept on the side closest to the tv, farthest from the stairs. This was my second mistake. At some point I have to pee. Bad. So I start to get down from the loft. But I wasn’t fully awake. And I didn’t take the stairs. Dear readers, I decided in my half asleep state to climb over the railing (by the tv) because I thought the stairs were there. I come to full consciousness when I crash to the floor HARD. I screamed for my dear husband to save me since I didn’t know the damage and still had to pee. He flew down the stairs and helped me get to the bathroom and set me up on the couch for the rest of the night because I was too scared to be up in the loft again. Luckily I didn’t break anything (on myself or the cabin) or hit my head, but my hip took the brunt of the fall and we have a full day of sightseeing today. And a seven hour car ride home tomorrow. TL;DR: Yeeted myself out of a loft because I forgot where the stairs were. submitted by /u/breannabalaam to r/tifu [link] [comments]
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r/tifu |
breannabalaam |
Sep 7, 2019 |
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Entitled aunt destroys our house, neglects our pets, and refuses to pay for any of it but ends up anyway without even knowing.
I really hope none of my cousin's have Reddit accounts, but here we go. Couldn't figure out if this would be better placed at entitledpeople or here, but since it involves my aunt and her kids, I decided on here. Obligatory first time post, mobile, formatting. I do have lots of other stories about my aunt if anybody is interested. TL:DR at end. There really wasn't any dialogue interactions that I can remember, so no need to designate abbreviations. This happened a while back, I can't give an exact time frame but I was relatively young, maybe 9 or 10. My aunt's life wasn't the picture of stability back then, and her house had burned down recently (another good story I have about her.) So being the good sister my mother was, she offered to let my aunt and two of her four kids (the two not living at their dad's) stay at our house over the summer while we traveled to the other side of the state to visit my father, which we don't get to do often. All my aunt had to do was keep the place clean (take out the trash, change cat litter), feed our pets (dog and two cats), and generally don't destroy the place. An additional rule me and my sister set in place were that the boys (5 and 6yo at the time) weren't allowed in either of our rooms, as they would have no need to, as they were to sleep on the couch-that-converts-into-a-bed in the living room, and my aunt was to sleep in the spare bed we had at the bottom the stairs. She failed all of those requests multiple times. When we arrived back to our house, the place was a wreck. Let's go over all that she did: She and her boyfriend got tired of the smoke detector going off whenever they smoked in the house (yes, near the animals) so they started leaving the back door wide open so that the smoke could flow out. That clearly didn't work, as the whole house still smelled like smoke, and it only allowed our house to be invaded by flies, gnats, and fleas. They stopped cleaning the cat litter and taking out the trash about half way through the summer. Instead of feeding the animals at regular intervals, they just filled all the food bowls with tons of food and let the animals eat as much as they wanted, and just poured out more when it finally ran out. I'm surprised none of our pets were overweight when we got back. The money we left them to buy more pet food, they spent on cheap kibble and used the leftover money to buy smokes. Did I mention her boyfriend was wearing a police issued ankle monitor the whole time he was there? I don't think I did. Any time over the summer that they were required to put an address for something (which they had to do more than you would expect) they put our address. We're still getting court summons and parking tickets for them to this day. But the one thing that pissed me off the most at the time as a nine year old boy, is that whenever the kids got bored or she just didn't want to deal with them, she just told them to go find something to play with. So of course, they invaded my room, and she did nothing to stop them. I came home to find my room covered in piles of mismatched Lego from dozens of different sets, never to be able to be sorted and reassembled again. They even decided to use a wooden model airplane I built with my grandfather as a glider, slamming it into the ground and breaking off the landing gear and wings. And worst of all, two of my battery powered nerf guns were completely missing. We later figured out that they had jammed them, and angrily threw them to the bottom of the pool in our back yard that was covered in moss and we hadn't cleaned in years. When we finally came back, we had to cover the costs of bug bombing the house to get rid of the flies, deep cleaning to get rid of the smoke smell, vet prescribed ointment for the fleas, and replacing all of the toys and other stuff that her kids broke. We asked her for the money from her directly and she just blamed her kids and said that her boyfriend was the one in charge of watching them when they did all that stuff. Eventually we figured out that the "Apartment" she found was a loft above my grandparents garage, and she was paying my grandma rent to live up there. Rent that the first year of had an additional fee which went directly to my mom, without her knowing. She just thought that the rent dropped after the first year. So she ended up paying for everything in the end anyway. Thanks grandma. A bit anticlimactic, but that's what happened. My house never was quite the same after that, but I've tried to put the memories behind me, and start recollecting some of the stuff that they broke. I've got much nicer nerf blasters now. Other stories about my crazy aunt include the time our family ended up adopting her boyfriend's kittens because they weren't allowed in their apartment (RIP Delilah, you were a good little kitty.) And the time she screamed in my face for SAVING her dumb dog's life. My family is weird TL:DR - My aunt, her boyfriend, and her kids destroyed our house over their summer stay and refuse to pay for it, but with a little help from my grandma, she ended up paying for everything anyway without even knowing what the money was going towards. Edit: the story about my aunt screaming in my face after saving her dog is up on crazypeople if anyone is interested. Edit 2: I was telling my family about this post and they reminded me of a few other good ones. There was the time that her boyfriend removed our cat's gravestone, and the time that a building caught on fire while they were watching me and my sister. Let me know if anyone wants to hear those stories or any suggestions as to what subs those stories would go on. Edit 3: Master has given Jack a silver. Jack is freee! Seriously though, thanks for the support. submitted by /u/Jack0f5pades to r/entitledparents [link] [comments]
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r/entitledparents |
Jack0f5pades |
Mar 27, 2019 |