Has anyone tried making custom art on doors? I would like to make some custom door patterns/designs with my CNC but I'm not sure the best way to go about it without building my own door slab.
I thought about buying a pre-made flat panel hollow core slab, gluing a 1/2" or 3/8" MDF sheet to one side (or 1/4" to both sides if I want both sides carved) and then running it though the CNC. The issue being that the door would be thicker than usual for a hollow core (1-3/4" vs the standard 1-3/8") and I'm not sure how to finish around the perimeter so you wouldn't see the seam between the door and MDF sheet.
I could make my own solid core slab with like a 5/8 particle board core, birch stiles and rails at the perimeter and two 3/8" MDF or plywood sheets as cover to carve, but I would be spending 90% of my time making the slab instead of the carving.
Has anyone found an easier way to carve interior doors or a resource to buy doors with a skin thick enough to carve? Am I over thinking this?

I'm working on an ammo can prop. I managed to pick up a handful of ammo cans that are ideal for my application, but they have the Cabela's brand label embossed into the sheet metal. I'm thinking of hammering these out with a mallet if some kind, but I'm not sure what tool would do the best job with the least amount of paint touchup required.
The embossing is about a 1/32" deep and about 2 inches tall at its tallest. Sanding is likely not an option because the embossing seems about as deep as the metal is thick

I'm trying really hard not to be bitter at Shannon (the other girl) since she was cheated as well. She had no clue.
Last time we talk on IG I told her please not to touch the subject again. And now she is sending me videos about healing, leaving behind a narcissist ex, etc etc.
She is nice but I'm trying to ignore her, I put on mute all her notifications, I hid her chats so I wouldn't have to look at them but today there were a message request from her.
I guess the problem is not her messaging me. It's I can't help but look at her and think how pretty she is. And I'm starting to hate my face, we both look alike. But she is prettier, younger. I see my eyes, my mouth, my nose, my hair, all Shannon's. But she is finer, 3 years younger, thicker in the hips.
I'm starting to hate her. And now every woman starts to look like her. I see long black hair: Shannon. I see thick lips: Shannon, fair skin, sultry eyes, it's her, it's her. The woman is haunting me.
And I know it NOT her fault but his. But I can't help the feeling. And every pretty woman I think, I bet Danny would have look for her as well.
I'm surrounded by people, before none of them looked like Danny, now everyone is his twin.
I'm going insane. A somewhat not sui ci dal morning and them boom! Her message.

Hi all. I was wondering if anyone could explain how the shop works.
I'm confused because I like the K-2000 Blademaster and the Time Keeper skins and would like to purchase them.
Its says in the menu "Sometimes available in the shop." But for the last few months my shop has only had Witch and Visual Kei available when for them it also says "sometimes available in the shop." Long time player but long time thick head as well lol.

Hey guys I have an interesting situation here. My company was subbed out through a designer to install some wool carpet in a house. Typically no problem at all. This stuff however was not normal and around a quarter inch thick. It was an all natural fiber with zero backing, just stitch and latex. The customer was concerned with the height difference so I was told by my boss to turn and tack it. Not my favorite thing in the world and typically It will look fine but this stuff is so thin you can see everything even when you bury the staples.
Info: 5/8 hardwood on top of 1/4 luan=7/8" 3/8 fiber pad with 1/4 inch wool=5/8"
So the difference being a quarter inch. So I overlapped the carpet over the tack strip and had to staple down. The pictures make it look like its bulging more than it is...however I hate it.
What would you have done differently? I said that it needs (most likely) a custom wood transition because the carpet is so thin. Poor choice by the designer all around

I've seen so many posts here lampooning digital night vision, now i get it, analog night vision is cool and if i ever had chance to look through one i would, much more even own one, but i think people are missing some things out.
​
1: Quite a lot of people like me live in countries where NV equipment is hard to find and/or regulated, and where it's hard to find, it's often more expensive
​
2: DNV is cheap, really cheap, i picked up a DNVM from temu for £30, if all you want to do is look in the dark without a torch, it's a pretty good deal
​
3: People need to get into hobbies somehow, this isn't the first hobby and subreddit i've seen where people are expected to splash the cash to get into it, but not only don't a lot of people have that kind of money, i also just don't think that's a good idea in general, unless you really have money to burn, what if you don't end up using it much?
​
4: Tube NVs are a luxury, most people can live without them, if someone wants to get into seeing in the dark without a torch, then a logical first step is some sort of DNV, it's like telling someone who wants to drive that they should buy a lamborghini or walk
​
5: You can't expect a cheap product to perform as well as an expensive one, especially when the expensive product is a military grade device
​
Now i have an R7 NV from temu, you certainly can't run around with it strapped to your head or fight wars with it, it gives off a faint red glow in use and shines light on your face, but it's still way more then stealthy then a torch, also how many of us actually fight wars with their NVDs? and as for being seen by a Tube NVD user, so what? i have nothing to hide, i bought this thing for fun, not save my life, besides i'm much more likely to be seen by any camera that also sees infrared, like a CCTV camera.
​
The abilities i've gained for the price i paid actually aren't bad, remember, the price! i was able to use it to observe a building some 500ft away that was pitch dark to my eyes, and you can see everything in a completely dark room, also being that it's basically a camcorder, i can record and take photos, handheld it's ok but on a fixed tripod it's amazing, if you're into wildlife or anything all you need to do is quickly set it up pointing at whatever area they hang out and watch the show, i'm pretty sure using a torch or anything would scare the wildlife away, and because it can go on a tripod i assume there is probably some adapter out there that let's you put it on a gun, i would expirement with attaching it to a nerf gun but i recently gave all my nerf guns away.
​
They're also pretty sensitive even with the IR off, it's nowhere near tube NVDs but it surprises me at times, the IR also has a brightening effect on some objects.
​
Some day when my wallet is thick enough i'll enjoy tube NVDs, but for now i actually quite like my DNVM, it lets me see in the dark without a torch and makes me keep desiring some tube NVDs, if you want to see in the dark for cheap, i'd suggest giving it a try.

Good day, brothers and sisters!
I turned 26 years old on April 4th, I live independently and have a stable job I love very much, so I figured it would be a good time to look for something serious. Disclaimer: I'm Byzantine Catholic and I want to join the clergy (just saying because it might turn Latin rite ladies off).
A few things about me:
-I study history at university and should be done next year; -After this, I want to enroll into seminary to join the clergy (Byzantine Catholics don't practice priestly celibacy though and can get married, just in case you didn't know); -I've been a choir member for years and singing is one of my passions. I go to the local chapel every day to practice. Perhaps I'll send you some recordings; - I serve at the altar in both the Byzantine and Latin rites as an altar servant. Maybe I'll show you my beautiful vestments; -I'm an adventurer. I've traveled to Athens by myself when I was 17, and the furthest away was California, among many other places; -I'm an avid nature enjoyer and animal lover. I can state at a bumblebee doing their job without getting bored; -I love reading and writing. It would be a plus if you'd be open to send and receive snail mail in order to build a special bond; -I work as an editor at a publishing and printing firm, and I love it very much; -I'm pretty extroverted. I love spending time with my many friends, and making new ones is usually no issue for me; -I'm loyal, serious and committed when it comes to relationships; -I love doing hands and crafts (a friend of mine and I are thinking of opening our own Etsy shop) I make prayer ropes and rosaries!
And much more!
What I'm looking for:
-Ideally a pious girl whose number one love is Christ; -A woman who wouldn't mind being the wife of a priest and even better, actively support me in this dream; -Someone who does something creative (singing, painting, drawing, writing, etc.); -A person who is loyal and in for the long term; -Someone who wants to have children; -Someone affectionate, supportive and sweet; -Someone who agrees to all basic teachings of the Church; -Someone who is a good texter, perhaps clingy even? -Cheerful would be great!
My physical description: I've tried to make my avatar look as much like me as possible. 1.88m tall, slender, beard/moustache and long, thick hair that's usually in a bun for practical reasons. My preferred age range would be 7 years my junior or senior.
If you're looking for something serious and long term with a person with whom you can grow closer to Christ, please shoot me a message!

It started when I was driving down a backroad and I see blue lights behind me. I immediately panic and gas it to over 100 mph, throwing shit out the window, rigs, a half Oz, scales, everything. The blue lights are gaining on me so I hit a dirt road, going insane speeds down this bumpy ass road, eventually, I realize I've rode the back tires off of the vehicle, so I jump out and hit the woods. I see the lights approaching and see flashlights coming into the woods, mind you it's pitch black and it's in a marshy, real rugged terrain, I'm running full speed doing flips and shit over hills and running into shit and the flash lights are coming up on me, and they're getting closer and closer and I am thinking fuck I am about to go to jail. They come up on me and everything goes black.
I wake up not knowing how long I've been laying there and I feel like I've been shot in the chest with a shotgun, I can't move my body and I think I'm dieing. I see a star in the sky that I was fixated on, and I'm thinking that's where I want to be. Eventually it feels like I die, my body is making weird ticking noises and I feel like I just lose my body, I come out of my body and have these giant angel wings and I start flying up to the star, when I'm about halfway there my wings turned to bone and I fall back to the earth, then several times over, I grow angel wings again and fly away again, only to have the same thing happen again, it felt like I was being taunted that I could never make it to heaven. I eventually snap back to my body again, and wake up another unknown time later.
I managed to stand up, and in my mind I was on this earth all alone, like in some type of purgatory. My body is so weak I can barely move, but I managed to stand up. The bottom half of my vision is solid black and the top half I can see the tops of trees, I eventually see this figure, totally black and tall with a cowboy hat on. It's just standing about 5 foot away and laughing at me. I try to pick up a big stick that was near me but my body was too weak to swing it at it. Every time I took a step forward , it just took a step back and laughed.
There is a fuzzy period here, but fast forward about 2 days later of being completely out of my mind in these woods, I stumble upon and oilfield location that had a little trailer where the workers could stay and it had a jeep parked out front. The doors were unlocked and I went inside trying to get some water out of the faucet, I didn't notice the guy asleep on the couch. No water came out, so I went into this guy's jeep, thinking totally that it was mine, got a crowbar and a wrench and went to the water main and broke into it and turned the water on. I go back inside and start ravenous drinking water out of the faucet.
The guy wakes up and at first thinks I'm a worker. He asked me if I just got hired. I told him yeah and he asked what I drove there and I told him the jeep outside. He looked at me confused and then says that's his jeep. I argued with him and told him that's my friends jeep and I'm borrowing it. He realizes something is fucked up and eventually runs me off while having the phone to his ears, undoubtedly calling the cops.
Three more days go by and im completely out of my mind, everything is like the scariest thing you can imagine and i dont know whats real of fake. Im malnourished, dieing, and freaking the fuck out. eventually I think the cops are after me, and I remembered storing some dope in my boot like two years, I had on big rubber duck hunting boots, and for some reason I feel like I need to cut the boots up into tiny pieces and bury it. I do this and then run for another day from imaginary police.
I come across this area of trees cut down and there is a guy like 500 yards away on the other side that I'm trying to sign language to that I need help. My tongue was so dry I couldn't yell. The guy wasn't even real and eventually waved at me and drove off. I find a few berries to eat to wet my tongue and eventually collapse in thick thorn bushes staring up at the sky with big sharp thorns in my back thinking, "this wouldn't be so bad of a place to die" I pass out and get up an unknown time later.
I finally found some sort of road and I decide to try to walk down it, but when I do, like 20 world War two bombers fly over and drop these little silver cubes, hundreds of them, these cubes hatch and there's all these miniature snipers in the woods aiming at me. I freak out and start running down this road, and in My mind I'm thinking "okay they're all trying to kill me and I'm unarmed, all I can do to make them think i have a gun is to take my sock off and put it on my hand like a pistol with my fingers" so I do this while running frantically down this road, crazy as a mother fucker.
I finally run across this house and I beat on the door like the police for like 30 seconds and eventually this 80 year old man answers, and sees this crazy fucking site, I'm shirtless, shoes less, with one sock on my hand with cuts and shit all over my body and face, eyes like saucers and looking like the wolf man or some shit. I look dead in this man's eyes and while waving my sock pistol around I tell him "look, if they told you I'm here to kill you, I'm not. I just want to use your phone. " he looks very confused and shut the screen door while calling the police.
I eventually figure fuck it this man isn't going to help me so I run off and break into his back yard. I find the faucet and turn it on and I'm up under it with my mouth open, drinking in water so desperately and fast that I'm throwing up while drinking it. A cop eventually walks up to me and asks me to come with him. He tells me he has water in the cooler in his ride and I can drink that. I am so out of my mind and thirsty and dieing that I didn't believe him and he had to pry me away from the faucet.
He was able to tell after talking to me that I was very much out of my mind and takes me to the hospital. They tell me I have a 78% chance of dieing that I had ketoacidosis and my kidneys were failing. I lived, and after 8 or 9 days of being in these woods with no food or water, out of my fucking mind, with delusions so bad I didn't know what was real or fake, I finally got released and then sent to a mental hospital for two weeks.
This was by far the worst and scariest experience of my life and I would not wish it on anyone. Stay woke friends, and never go into meth induced psychosis.

Living in a small southern town, you get used to the way things are. I grew up as a military brat, so my childhood memories are a blur of packing, unpacking, and getting settled. It had been seven years since we arrived, and nothing but the grace of God would make me move again. A few years ago, my father got orders to station at a base in the middle of the Mohave. I was only seventeen then, but after a few dozen screaming matches, I decided to strike out on my own a little early. I got a part-time job at the cafe, which was enough to rent a little run-down shack a couple of blocks from downtown. As far as I was concerned, I was living the dream—serving coffee a few hours a week and spending the rest of my time hanging out with friends, listening to music, and drinking.
That particular morning started the same as any other. I woke up around noon with a text from Mark to meet me at the cafe. Took me about two hours to get up and head over. The sun had just begun its descent as I pushed the door to the cafe open, the bell above tinkling softly. The sound bothered me a little bit, but I couldn’t tell why. It seemed to ring a little louder than I was expecting, and gave me this strange drilling sensation inside my head.
I ignored the feeling as the smell of slightly stale coffee and pastries washed over me. I saw Mark and Jamie already sat at our usual spot. Mark looked up as I approached, a grin spreading across his face. "Hey, Alex. Sarah should be here soon."
“So what's on the docket today?” I asked as I sat down, stealing a bear claw off Jamie's plate and taking a large bite before he had the chance to protest.
Mark’s excitement was almost palpable. He was always the one with the big ideas and crazy schemes, which I honestly appreciated. They got us into trouble more often than not, but it beat day drinking in the Walmart parking lot like everyone else our age.
"Alright, check this out," Mark said, his eyes gleaming with excitement. "I was talking to my cousin who works for the county. He told me about this old, abandoned food processing factory just outside of town. They used to can peaches there."
I gave him a skeptical look. "That’s your idea? Old, canned peaches?"
"No, idiot," he scoffed. "They left behind a ton of nitrates and phosphates. I’ve been doing some reading, and we can use them to make fireworks. I was up all night figuring it out and putting these together." He subtly opened his backpack to reveal at least a dozen PVC pipes fitted on both ends.
"Now that's what I’m talking about," I said, grinning.
Sarah walked in, catching the tail end of our conversation. "Sorry I’m late, I had a breakout and had to stop by the pharmacy. Upped my allergy meds. I fucking hate pollen," she said as I scooted over to make room for her on the bench.
"Is there anything you aren't allergic to?" I laughed.
She rolled her eyes, ignoring my question. "So, what's the plan for today?"
Mark, Jamie and I exchanged cheeky glances. "Well," I started, "let’s just hope you’re not allergic to peaches."
We finally managed to pry the side door of the factory off, which broke free from the hinges and smashed against the floor. Stepping inside, the air was thick and rancid as we bounced the beams of our flashlights around the packaging floor.
"We should split up," Mark suggested. "Alex, you and Sarah check out the storage rooms for the chemicals. Jamie and I will find the control room and see if we can get the power back on."
All of us nodded as we went our separate ways. Sarah and I wandered down the dark hallways, kicking open doors and looking for anything that looked vaguely like chemicals. The corridors were dark and damp, with black mold snaking along the walls like veins.
The first few rooms we checked were empty, filled only with dust and the remnants of long-abandoned equipment. Each door creaked as we pushed it open, revealing more decay and desolation.
As we moved further down the hallway, the mold seemed to become more aggressive, spreading in thick, dark patches along the walls and floors. The air grew heavier, making it harder to breathe. We kicked open another door, our flashlights revealing more of the same—nothing useful.
"This place is a bust," Sarah muttered,
"Let's keep looking," I replied, though I was starting to feel the same way. "There has to be something."
We continued down the corridor, our footsteps echoing in the silence. As we approached the end of the hall, something caught my eye. One door stood out, covered in black, creeping mold that seemed to pulse and writhe. Tendrils of fungus snaked out from the edges, reaching out into the hallway.
"Sarah, look at this," I said.
She turned to see what I was pointing at and her eyes widened. "That’s... different."
We approached the door cautiously as the tendrils moved and swayed.
With a deep breath, we each grabbed one side of the door and pulled. It resisted for a moment before giving way, the mold snapping and tearing as we forced it open. The smell that hit us was overpowering, a mix of rot and decay that made my eyes water.
Inside, our flashlights revealed a horrifying sight. At the back of the room sat several pallets with dozens of boxes of peaches each. But it was what grew from these boxes that will haunt my nightmares till my dying day.
The entire back wall was consumed by a towering fungal mass. Thick, fleshy stalks jutted out from the base, climbing nearly to the ceiling. The surface of the fungus glistened with a slimy, wet sheen, appearing almost like rotting flesh under our flashlight beams. Each stalk was covered in a mottled, sickly green and yellow hue, with patches of black mold that seemed to pulse in the dim light.
Interwoven within this horrific sight were bulbous growths, each one throbbing rhythmically, as if with a heartbeat of its own. They resembled obscene, overgrown tumors, ready to burst at the slightest touch. Long, sinewy tendrils extended from the main mass, creeping over the boxes and along the floor like the fingers of some malevolent creature, seeking out any life to ensnare.
The tendrils near the door twitched, slowly inching their way toward us as if aware of our presence. The air was thick with spores, glimmering in the light like tiny stars, each one a potential harbinger of decay and death.
"Oh my god," Sarah whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of our own breathing. "What is that thing?"
We stood there, frozen in shock and disgust, before I slammed the door shut.
"Let's get the hell out of here," I said.
We hurried back down the corridor, our footsteps echoing in the oppressive silence. The lights in the facility flickered on, casting a blinding white light. I heard a bubbling, groaning noise emanate from behind the fungal door, sending a wave of nausea through my body.
We met back up with Mark and Jamie in the main area and quickly told them what we saw.
"Yo, that sounds sick," Jamie exclaimed. "We should blow it up. I found the chemicals in the control room and these bad boys are ready to go," he said, holding up a pipe bomb.
"Yeah," Mark agreed, his eyes alight with excitement. "We'd be doing the world a favor, getting rid of that thing."
Sarah shook her head, her face pale. "No way. I'm not doing this. That thing... It's not normal. We need to get out of here and call someone who knows what they're doing."
Jamie frowned. "Come on, Sarah. Don't be a buzzkill. This is a once-in-a-lifetime chance to do something epic."
"Epic?" Sarah snapped. "That thing is dangerous. We don't know what we're dealing with. I'm not risking my life for some stupid joke."
Mark stepped in with a grin. "Alright, let's all calm down. If you’re scared you can just let the men handle it.”
Sarah crossed her arms. "Fine, but I'm staying here."
"Suit yourself," Jamie said, shrugging. "But we're not leaving without taking care of that thing."
"Alright, let's do this," Mark said, looking at Jamie and me. "We'll be quick. Sarah, stay here and keep an eye out.”
The hallway looked completely different in the fluorescent lighting. I could see now that each vein of fungus emanated from that single door, like a spiral portal threatening to suck us in.
"Let's make this quick," I whispered, glancing back at Jamie and Mark. "We light the bomb, throw it in, and get the hell out of here."
Jamie nodded, holding the pipe bomb tightly in his hand. "Ready when you are."
We reached the door, and the tendrils of fungus seemed even more aggressive, writhing and pulsing as if aware of our presence. The air was thick with spores.
"On three," I whispered, gripping the edge of the door. "One... two... three."
We yanked the door open, the mold snapping and tearing as it gave way. The smell of rot and decay hit us again, making my eyes water. The monstrous fungal mass loomed before us, its bulbous growths throbbing rhythmically.
Jamie lit the fuse and threw the bomb as hard as he could inside. It struck one of the orbs, which burst, shooting a fine white mist into the air.
"Run!" I shouted, slamming the door shut. We turned and sprinted down the hallway. The explosion sounded behind us, the shockwave lifting me off my feet and sending me tumbling to the ground.
Living in a small southern town, you get used to the way things are. My parents were in the army, so we moved a lot, but now I'm staying put. I woke up around noon and got a text from Mark to meet at the cafe. The smell of slightly stale coffee and pastries greeted me as I arrived. The bell's ring seemed off, giving me a small headache.
I ignored it and slid into the seat across from Mark and Jamie. “So what's on the docket today?” I asked, stealing a doughnut off Jamie's plate.
“Going to go to an old peach factory and get some chemicals. I need to make some fireworks,” Mark replied, subtly revealing some pipe bombs in his bag.
Sarah walked in towards the tail end of our conversation and silently stood next to our table.
The three of us glanced at each other, unsure of how to proceed. “Sarah,” I finally started. “Are you ok?”
“Y-yeah,” she replied. “Are YOU guys feeling ok?”
We exchanged uneasy glances. “Yeah, we’re fine,” I said. After a moment, she shook her head and sat down as we continued our plans.
That evening, we broke into the peach factory. We found this disgusting, gigantic fungal growth coming out of some boxes of peaches and we blew it up with some pipe bombs.
The next day I woke up around noon and got a text from Mark to meet at the cafe. The smell of slightly stale coffee and pastries greeted me as I arrived. The bell's ring seemed off, giving me a small migraine.
I ignored it and slid into the seat across from Mark and Jamie. “So what's on the docket today?” I asked, stealing a maroon off Jamie's plate.
“Going to go to an old peach factory and get some chemicals. I need to make some fireworks,” Mark replied, subtly revealing some pipe bombs in his bag.
Sarah walked in towards the tail end of our conversation and silently stood next to our table.
The three of us glanced at each other, unsure of how to proceed. “Sarah,” I finally started. “Are you ok?”
“Y-yeah,” she replied. “Not really. Are YOU guys feeling Ok?”
We exchanged uneasy glances. “Yeah, we’re fine,” I said. After a moment, she shook her head and sat down as we continued our plans.
That evening, we broke into the peach factory. We found this disgusting, gigantic fungal growth coming out of some boxes of peaches and we blew it up with some pipe bombs.
The next day I woke up around noon and got a text from Mark to meet at the cafe. The smell of slightly stale coffee and pastries greeted me as I arrived. The bell's ring seemed off, giving me a piercing migraine.
I ignored it and slid into the seat across from Mark and Jamie. “So what's on the docket today?” I asked, stealing a bagel off Jamie's plate.
“Going to go to an old peach factory and get some chemicals. I need to make some fireworks,” Mark replied, subtly revealing some pipe bombs in his bag.
Sarah walked in towards the tail end of our conversation and silently stood next to our table.
The three of us glanced at each other, unsure of how to proceed. “Sarah,” I finally started. “Are you ok?”
“What's going on?” she asked, tears welling up in her eyes. “I’m scared.”
We exchanged uneasy glances. “It’s fine, Sarah. Just take a seat,” I said. After a moment, she shook her head and sat down as we continued our plans.
That evening, we broke into the peach factory. We found this disgusting, gigantic fungal growth coming out of some boxes of peaches and we blew it up with some pipe bombs.
The next day I woke up around noon and got a text from Mark to meet at the cafe. The smell of slightly stale coffee and pastries greeted me as I arrived. The bell's ring seemed off, giving me a splitting migraine.
As I slid into the seat across from Mark and Jamie, I noticed Sarah outside, fixated on a bird suspended in mid-flight. I went out to see her.
"Are you seeing this?" she asked, her voice tinged with astonishment.
"Yeah," I replied nonchalantly. "That happens all the time. Are you sure you're feeling okay?"
"What the hell do you mean, 'Am I feeling okay?'!" she screamed. "That bird is frozen mid-air, and you don't think anything weird is going on?"
Her yelling took me aback. I didn't understand her alarm, so I shrugged it off and joined Mark inside. As we began planning our nightly excursion to the peach factory, Sarah burst through the door, screaming, then vanished in a puff of smoke.
"That's odd," I mused, my brow furrowed in confusion before we shrugged it off and resumed our scheming.
The day after, I met Mark again at the cafe. This rhythm had become our existence: meetings by day, adventures by night at the old peach plant. That evening followed the familiar pattern; we reveled in the thrill of hurling pipe bombs into that small enclosed room.
This routine had completely engulfed our lives. Day after day at the cafe, night after night at the factory—it seemed as though this cycle was all we had ever known. Reflecting on it, I couldn't remember any other way of life.
However, one thing increasingly disturbed me—the ringing of the doorbell at the cafe's entrance. Each time I entered, the sound seemed sharper, more grating. Focusing on it brought a searing pain to my head, like a needle drilling through my skull. Yet, despite the agony, I found myself obsessing over it, the sound gnawing at the edges of my sanity.
One day, driven to the brink by this incessant ringing, I decided to confront it head-on. I stood by the door, letting the bell chime repeatedly. Each ring sliced through my mind, but I persisted, sweat beading on my forehead, teeth clenched in torment.
As the pain crescendoed, reality shattered. I woke to the blaring of a fire alarm, not the quaint doorbell I had imagined. The cafe was engulfed in chaos. The hallway was consumed by a sprawling fungal mass, its tendrils creeping along the walls.
In the dim, flickering light, I saw Jamie, or what was left of him. Half of his skull was missing, the fungus attached grotesquely to his exposed brain, pulsating with each eerie beat of his fading heart. Mark was there too, seemingly unharmed physically, but trapped in a delusion, his eyes glazed over, a smile playing on his lips as the fungus encased him.
Sarah lay collapsed by the fire alarm, her hand still on the lever. She had managed to pull it before succumbing to the spores that now clung to her body.
The tendrils that had enveloped me snapped violently, each break releasing a sickening crack that echoed through the eerie silence of the hallway. An outline of my body remained imprinted in the fungal mass, a mold from which I had desperately broken free.
Gritting my teeth against the pain and horror, I scrambled to Mark and Sarah. Mark was less entangled, lost in his fungal-induced stupor. I grabbed him under the arms, his body limp but alive, and dragged him across the floor. The fungus resisted, stretching like sinew before tearing away from him with wet, ripping sounds.
Sarah was heavier, her body weakened but still fighting. I clasped her wrists, pulling with all my strength. The fungus clung to her, tendrils winding up her arms like ivy. With a final, determined yank, the last of the tendrils snapped, freeing her. We left behind fragments of the monstrous growth clinging to her clothes.
Together, we staggered out into the night air, away from the suffocating enclosure. The cool air hit our faces, harsh yet cleansing. Behind us, the fire alarm continued to blare into the night. I fumbled with my phone, hands shaking, to dial the emergency number. The call went through, and within minutes, the sound of sirens cut through the stillness of the night, growing louder as help approached.
The next few days were a blur. I remember fading in and out of consciousness as nurses pumped antifungals directly into my IV, their faces blurring into the sterile environment. Once we were somewhat cognizant, the police wanted answers. One by one, we were interviewed, but we gave them nothing. I still don’t know what the exact penalty is for manufacturing explosives and using them to destroy a building, but I’m guessing it’s not community service. Jamie was still missing, and they hadn’t found any sign of him or his body. I tried to hide my tears as I knew he was already long gone.
After a few weeks, I was finally cleared for visitors and got to see Sarah again. She told me that after the explosion, she ran but couldn’t leave us behind. She came back, only to see us being consumed by the fungus. Try as she might, she wasn’t able to free us as she felt the oppressive spores take her under. She fought back and managed to pull the fire alarm before succumbing again. The doctors told her that her allergy medication gave her some resistance to the fungus; otherwise, she might have been a goner.
Mark was never the same. We never talked about what happened, and after trying once and him flipping out, I figured it was best to let sleeping dogs lie. That summer, he moved to upstate New York to work in his dad’s business. I haven’t seen him since. That fall, Sarah started college at Savannah State. I still call her every now and again, but it’s not like it used to be.
Despite all that happened, I’m not moving again. I’m happy here, and if it’s up to me, I’ll die in this little town. I still work at the cafe, as a manager now. On weekends, I come in and just sit at the booth we all used to share.
I still think about Jamie from time to time. I wonder if he's dead or still stuck in his delusion, picturing the four of us sitting at our table, talking, laughing, and passing the time. Sometimes, when the cafe is empty and the light is just right, I can almost see him there, his smile frozen in that moment before everything went wrong.
The cafe grows quieter each day, the hum of life fading into an eerie stillness. My skin feels different, as if the air itself whispers secrets I can't quite grasp. The itching that started as a minor annoyance has intensified, becoming a constant torment. I scratch at lesions that have begun to form on my arms and chest, red and raw, with patches of green spreading beneath the surface. I’ve started to wear long sleeves to cover my arms and a mask to hide my purpling lips.
Some nights, when closing, as I sit alone in the dim light of the cafe, the itching becomes unbearable. I claw at the lesions, feeling a dampness beneath my skin. Sometimes, when I cough, I could swear I see tiny spores hanging in the air, reminiscent of the bursting nodules growing on the stalks of the monster.
Occasionally, I hear the bell ring and the door open, but no one is there. I look outside into the empty night and see nothing. This went on for weeks, becoming more frequent. But one night, the door opened, and I saw Jamie standing there, the picture of health. I went to embrace him and noticed my lesions were gone too. It was almost as if we had never gone to the peach factory. It was suddenly morning, and the light shone through the cafe. For the first time in forever, we were happy. We talked about nothing, passing the time.
After what felt like hours, he told me it was time to go. But his mouth wasn’t moving—I felt like I could read his thoughts, and he could read mine. We stood up as I took one last look at the cafe and headed off with him, back to the peach factory.
As we walked, a strange calmness settled over me. I remember feeling that I wanted to ask if he had talked to Mark or Sarah, and wondered how they were doing. But deep down, somehow, I could feel their presence and I knew they were doing just fine. The sun was bright, the air crisp. The itching had vanished completely, replaced by an inexplicable craving for the sweetness of ripe peaches. Jamie and I shared a silent understanding, a bond deeper than any words could convey.
The factory loomed ahead, its doors wide open as if inviting us in. The familiar scent of peaches and something else—something earthy and ancient—filled the air. We stepped inside, side by side, feeling at home for the first time in ages.
The last thing I remember before the darkness took over was the feeling of the soft, warm peach flesh in my hand, and Jamie’s voice in my head saying, "Welcome home."

I need to get this "off my chest". Obligatory "I can't include literally everything that builds up the situation or otherwise we'd end up with a War and Peace thick post.
Me, 35M; Wife: 35F; Sperm Donor 75 M; Mom 72; Aunt 72F; Aunt 2 70s F,
I used to think my childhood and home life was idyllic and great, but as I've aged I've realised how very, very effed up it actually was. It wasn't so much that it was idyllic, it was that I'm AUDHD and was perfectly content to be alone and do my own thing. Some of these realisations have coloured how I view my parents and family and I have stopped thinking of the man who's DNA I share as "dad" and more "Sperm donor" or "his name".
I fully admit that I have a lot of "daddy issues". All I've really ever wanted was a dad to do dad things with; learning how to do things like fix cars, going fishing, learning to drive, etc. Typical sappy 'Merican "Andy Griffith Show" type crap. I know that's not reality for most people, but it's kind of a sore point for me. Because of this, I've kind of spend most of my youth chasing after older males in my life like a lost puppy hoping someone will pick me out of the box left on the side of the road. I'm lucky to have found at least one person in my life who fulfills that role for me. He's only a few years older chronologically but decades older in experience and maturity.
I've learned a lot over the last few years about how things actually were as opposed to how I saw them. Examples being:
1) My sperm donor is a "what's mine is mine and what's your's in mine too"
2) My sperm donor inflated what he actually did as a "provider" and the reality was quite different. The home we lived in was paid for out of my mother's pocket, my immediate needs (clothes, medication, snacks, activities, school needs) were paid for out of my mother's pocket, and money that had been gifted from family for me to go into a college fund "disappeared" right around the time my dad decided to buy a vintage British racing car.
3) My sperm donor has his side of the family convinced he's father and husband of the year.
4) My sperm donor is stubborn. Not in a cute way, but in a way that's resulted in thousands of dollars of home damage, refusal to repair things for decades because he refuses to call in a professional, and literally refusing to allow his spouse to undergo medical treatment for two years past when it was deemed medically necessary.
The first 10 years of my life were ok, but in my early teens my mom got "sick". To lend some context, her mother also "got sick" when she was in her mid forties. There was never a diagnosis and an autopsy of mother's mother showed only a minor stomach ulcer. Both sets of grandparents are long since dead, any family on her side is gone, and I have no one who was around during that time to give me any input or tell me what was going on at that time other than my parents who have opposing views. Mom says her mother was just a very sickly lady but would also tell me stories about how Grandma would do things like steal motorcycles, get into fights, and do all these crazy things as a younger person. SD's version of events is that Grandma always "got sick" whenever someone in their family or friend circle had an event that might not make Grandma the centre of attention. My understanding is that my mom was expected to act as a live in nurse up until she met and married SD. At which point Grandma and Grandpa dropped dead in quick succession. I am also told that Grandpa took and controlled all my mother's wages from her career up until she met my SD.
Mom "got sick" in my early teens and it was on me to be the one to look after her. I was the one who had to help her when she threw up. I was the one to have to remind her to shower, change her clothes, get her meds refilled, etc. I'd go to doctor's appts with her and try to help explain what was happening and what symptoms she was having because unfortunately, a lot of the doctors were male and dismissed her out of hand. She did end up with a fibromyalgia diagnosis, a condition I also share and understand. The majority of her symptoms are stomach issues; ie nausea, vomiting, not wanting to eat etc. When I say she's had the entire gamut of gut health testing done, I mean it's all been done. At least three times. At one point the Gastro she saw told her that he'd exhausted everything and that there is no physical reason for her symptoms and that if she did not at least try to eat, he'd send her for psychiatric evaluation and have her fitted with a feeding tube.
I need to clarify that I too have always had gastrointestinal issues and not too long ago discovered I have coeliac disease. Adhering to that diet has eliminated the majority of my issues. Despite the fact they eliminated this disease as a potential cause in my mom, I suggested trying this and an elimination diet to see if it helped, but she refused. Her diet for years has consisted of white bread and jam, grits, coca cola, and tea exclusively. Occasionally she would get sushi. This is not an exaggeration. That's all she has eaten for years.
Throughout all of this, my SD rolled his eyes and sat on his ass continuing to eat dinner or watch tv while she'd go running to the kitchen to vomit, me chasing after her to try and help. (Mom would at least appear to get faint during these vomiting instances) so I would be there to make sure she didn't pass out as she vomited in the sink, then clean out the sink after her, then help her back to the couch and bring her something to drink.
It's been 20 years of this now. My wife and I have been living in our own home for about 4 years and I am no longer there to be the one to try and clean up the messes and fill in the cracks, as it were. My family has visited us three times, even though we live maybe 45 minutes away. I have returned to my parents house probably about 15-20 times to do repairs to the home. Right now, all "repairs" have stalled out because apparently having things like a functional and safe bathroom aren't nearly as important to SD as buying military collectibles, guns, and gourmet cheeses.
This January Mom landed herself in the hospital with a bloodclot due to falling and hitting her head. My SD didn't take her to the hospital until a full week after she'd fallen and no one called me for a full 24 hours after she'd been admitted. She went back and forth amongst the ER, rehab, and hospital for about two months and the result of all that was that they discovered she has throat dysphagia but no other underlying disorders. She's now home with a G-tube, oxygen, bedside commode, and an in home nurse that visit occasionally.
Right now, what's weighing on me most strongly is that my parents now have my SD's sister living with them and she is constantly singing his praises and talking about what a wonderful and attentive husband he is. I'm honestly enraged about it, especially now that more of the extended family, who frankly couldn't be arsed to return phone calls, emails, or snail mail over the last 30 years, suddenly have opinions and are lauding him for how great he's been.
I feel like I have this Monty Python 10 tonne weight over my head, because I know that when my parents shuffle off this mortal coil there is going to be a veritable dungheap left for me to deal with in their decrepit home. I'm mad and sad and tired and I honestly just don't want to deal with it anymore. I can't stop feeling irritated that my mom has basically just given up on trying to do.... anything. And had done way before there was an "excuse". Holidays are a nightmare for me because there's nothing this woman wants or like or gets excited about. She doesn't have hobbies anymore, doesn't like doing anything, isn't interested in collecting things, doing crafts, etc, even talking. The times I've been around her for any length of time and attempted to talk to her, she just looks at me with this kind of watery eyed and vaguely befuddled expression or answers with one or two syllables. She is NOT suffering any dementia or similar issues and has been tested for such. It's like she just... doesn't care.
I've spent so long trying to make her comfortable, happy, etc. Tried to get her things she liked or get her into things that would make her happy. My wife's mother is only a few years younger and is active in her community, teaches classes, does art, goes on trip with my FIL, and visits and talks to people regularly. As do most of my peers' parents. This is really hard and I feel very sad and lonely about it. My poor wife has heard it all over and over again and I hate bothering my already stressed close friends with my rants....

So i have a question - can I use thick dowel rods to join wooden posts whem making a self standing pull up station? The statio looks like an inverted T with aditional 45 degree posts on each side of the main vertical one. I have glued the construciton together and wanted only to put screws in for aditional support, but have been thinking, that due to the whole thing moving and being under tension the screws will get loose eventualy....

So i have a question - can I use thick dowel rods to join wooden posts whem making a self standing pull up station? The statio looks like an inverted T with aditional 45 degree posts on each side of the main vertical one. I have glued the construciton together and wanted only to put screws in for aditional support, but have been thinking, that due to the whole thing moving and being under tension the screws will get loose eventualy....

i start my dry fast to get rid of this nasty cold/congested nose but i wanted to know would eating your own mucus break your fast. I like to think of them as zero calories since my body product it but let me know what y’all think Ps. i know this is gross sorry

So i have a question - can I use thick dowel rods to join wooden posts whem making a self standing pull up station? The statio looks like an inverted T with aditional 45 degree posts on each side of the main vertical one. I have glued the construciton together and wanted only to put screws in for aditional support, but have been thinking, that due to the whole thing moving and being under tension the screws will get loose eventualy....

Hello, before starting I want to excuse me for my bad English as English is not my first language. I nursed my baby (17 months) since she was born and I’m planning to do so till she’s 24 months. At the beginning I nursed her on both sides, but when she was 6 months she got a vaccination and got really sick as a single mom this was a very tiring period of time and I nursed only on one side because it was more comfortable to hold her on the right side. After a while I realized I had to nurse her on the left side also before my milk would decrease but then she refused the left side. Since then I tried many times and even bought a breast pump. After my midwife told me it was not going to work anymore I gave up as there was no milk coming and my baby only wanted the right side. Since she was 11 month I didn’t try anymore as I knew there was no milk. Last evening I was nursing my baby as I felt that my shirt was wet and I looked and Saw milk leaking from my left breast that looked Like colostrum, very yellow, thick and sticky. As I pushed on my breast there was more coming out. Is there someone who experienced something similar and can explain to me how this is happening. It kept me thinking and can’t find any answers on sites. (Ps. Im 100% sure I’m not pregnant).

Perfi just can’t seem to open the packets without slipping on the wrappers or accidentally launching them across the room like a pawn launcher on auto-fire, but here we are.

• Standard latex with vanilla mint flavor: the all-rounder akin to ordering a vanilla mint latte at a bar it's standard reliable and mildly interesting great for a basic layer of protection in any scenario including anal sex though it might not spice up the night like a tzar tank rolls into a battlefield, be careful of the splash on this thing, its bound to hit friendlies!
  
• ultra-thin condoms of watermelon splash: as close as you get to raw Perfi(R) without the worry offering heightened sensitivity that might just make you think you’ve reached the watermelon cortex of pleasure particularly good for feeling every detail without sacrificing safety—key in more intimate encounters when your commander is going for the back line!
  
• ribbed and textured condoms, suitable fororange zest: adds an extra 'oomph' to every thrust into enemy lines, protecting you from dragon's teeth and advanced walls alike, its also designed to enhance pleasure like an armada enhances naval power for that under-the-surface penetration attempt - the texture can be quite the game changer—just ensure your partner is as excited about the orange zest as Perfi!
  
• flavored condoms (strawberry banana chocolate) - lemon pie: adding a bit of zest to your test because who doesn’t want their naughty bits to taste like lemon pie ideal for oral encounters but remember the sugar content might not be the best for other types of play unless like Perfi you enjoy playing with yeast
  
• glow-in-the-dark condoms - starfruit delight: why not light up your nightlife like a neon sign at a bar adds a playful twist to encounters and if you ever lose your way well your starfruit delight will guide you home not just a party trick but also a practical choice for making sure everything’s covered properly when you have cloak enabled, just make sure to watch out for Perfi's little spy bots!
  
• non-latex condoms (polyurethane polyisoprene) - cool mint: no latex no problem and now with a hint of cool mint as if your nether regions went to a spa excellent for those with allergies and anyone appreciating advanced fusion of flavor with function—because who said hypoallergenic needs to be boring
  
• warming and cooling condoms - spicy chocolate: turn up the heat or cool down the fires—like controlling the climate of an* ancient armada fleet of big bertha's* on the high seas adds a unique layer of sensation that can be quite exhilarating or as surprising as finding out your partner is secretly a tzar tank enthusiast
  
• extra strength condoms - peach thyme: thick enough to withstand the most vigorous activities like a bar fight but for your bigger 'eco' parts ideal for when you need that extra assurance particularly in more robust sessions with back and forth between the front lines...
  
• extended pleasure/performance enhancing condoms - mint julep: last longer than ever before and not just at a bar quiz night the numbing agent ensures the show goes on while the mint julep keeps things fresh it’s like having an advanced fusion reactor powering your endurance—just more enjoyable
  
• female condoms - blackberry sangria: a staple of Perfi's man-purse, make sure to pop it in early like those big arm commanders always do, this battle protection offers control and protection suitable for all kinds of intimate engagements, especially suited to the tip of the engagement before everything blows up.... yes yes ok its a bit festive and sophisticated like a CUUK at a high society event, surely a Perfi favourite.
  

each of Perfi's choices brings its own little twist to the engagement —literally and figuratively whether you're looking to enhance sensation prolong the experience or just keep things safe and sound there's a condom out there that’s perfect for the job and with these flavors who says safety can't be delicious?

The Rival Tech; you love to see 'em. Well, maybe not "love", unless you're a Leaf-Lover, or something. Or, in my case, a huge fan of technology.
The Rivals, obviously, are a seperate mining corps which are either in possession of (or run entirely by) machines. Whether it be small, flying razor-blades, machine guns embedded in the ground, evil geometry or sadistic cases of psychological warfare with arms (you know which one I'm talking about - Neme... Nem... Nemis... Neem... the big ones that hurt), it's very unlikely you'll make it to retire from DRG without seeing (or hearing) one of the bags of bolts floating around.
Before we get to the fun part, I just want to make it clear - The origins of the Rivals never have been [and may never will be] explained. As far was all hands in R&D are concerned, they're just tin cans.
Now, for my proposition:

The Rival Technology are Controlled By The Elves.

This might sound like a stretch, but hear me out.

Strength 1: Elves are Too Weak for Hoxxean Gravity

Elves, given their weak structure and pathetic bone strength, cannot survive outside of designated planets with a gravity too strong to support them. Even if Hoxxes IV is capable of supporting the Elves, it may be too dangerous (or simply not worth it) to send members of their race to die in the caves. A safer option, however, would be machines. Their thick, robust chassis and ability to fly would make them resistant to the gravity, naturally.

Strength 2: Machine Hostility to the Dwarves Could Be Explained By The Dwarven/Elven Rivalry

It's no secret that we Dwarves are at odds with their kind. Now, whether I believe the Technology is controlled by Elves directly or simply programmed to accomplish work is another question in of itself, but I believe this machine behavior may be due to the fact that Elves simply hate Dwarves.
Take Nemesis, for example. Nemesis has been designed solely to prey on the Dwarves, not accomplish any other major task. It simply cruises around, crushes Dwarves and crashes into the ground to die. That isn't just some natural industrial bickering. Whoever owns the Rival Tech is out for our BLOOD.

Flaw 1: Elves, Famously, Do Not Use Machinery

This is self-explanatory: Elves prefer their toothpicks and string, not the superior power of a double-barrel. The problem comes in the fact that Elves simply don't care for such heavy machinery, so it isn't brilliant to assume they'd operate something like the Rivals.

Flaw 2: Where Did The Parts Come From?

It's obvious that Elves don't own forgeries. Where could such advanced machines come from? Other Dwarves? Orcs?
Overall, I like the headcanon. I don't know if it's plausible or not, but I simply like the idea of such imposing robots being controlled by our weakest enemies.
Let me know what you think, or if you have any other strengths/weaknesses!

TL;DR: Noise sensitivity and other weird symptoms like popping/creeking and hearing my heartbeat. Possibly fluid in ears from sinus/allergies? Can fluid, or sinuses/mold, or a virus, cause these symptoms?
Hello everyone. Apologies in advance, I just found this community and this might be long but I just want to explain my symptoms so that someone might be able to ease my mind. Just for some background this is over the course of the last 13ish days. I have tinnitus but I don’t think it’s relevant because it is anxiety induced, or at least I don’t have any hearing loss as of last year.
Around the 24th/25th I started hearing an involuntary clicking/popping noise in my left ear. This was accompanied by a small tickling/pain sensation in the left ear. I thought I had tiny amount of ear drainage at nights but thought I could be making it up. Went to urgent care on 27th and doctor said there was no fluid behind my ear. Basically said there was no problem.
After the urgent care day I started to get sensitivity to noises in my left ear. I am a musician and it was enough to have me stop singing. It’s since been not as bad, I can wear headphones again, but still notice it a little bit in my left ear. I also proceeded to get post-nasal drip, like a swallowing mucus sensation, and just feeling slightly crummy in general. Now when I swallow I get the sound of releasing pressure in my ears like when you go on a plane or change altitudes. This is also a popping noise but it’s different from the involuntary one. The involuntary one is loud and has a long duration of back and forth.
I also started hearing my heartbeat in my right ear and feeling a slight fullness feeling, but it wasn’t enough to make me confident it was fluid. Thankfully the hearing my heart beat in my right ear is not as often and the involuntary popping in my left stopped for a few days (is now back sometimes but quieter). I still get them when in certain neck positions or straining during exercises, or when I get a high moment of stress and my heart beats a little harder, but I’m just thankful it’s not as often/periodic anymore.
On the 29th I went to the nurse practitioner at the actual hospital and she thinks it may be allergies. She didn’t see any fluid either. Started Sudafed and Flonase (as per her recommendation) and I had lots of ear drainage the same day. I think it was the Sudafed because apparently Flonase takes a few days to work. As a weird detail, the drainage smelled like the Flonase… just thought it was weird and should mention it.
Went back to the nurse on the 3rd and they looked in my nose this time. Said my left nostril was so swollen that they don’t know how I was breathing out of it. I felt no resistance or congestion, I felt fine as far as that went. They prescribed me the steroid dexamethasone 0.75 mg for 7 days twice a day. At first I thought it spiked my tinnitus but it actually started to help it a lot.
Since I’ve been done the steroid, I took one Zyrtec to help my post-nasal drip, and I got a huge spike in my T back. It could be coincidence, as it hasn’t gone back down much. I’ve had headaches, face swelling, feeling of pressure in my ears, lots of ear fluid one night, maybe even a low grade fever one night but my thermometer is not trustworthy.
When I wake up my ears feel like they have this pressure but I’m pretty sure it’s not affecting my hearing. It’s so weird that I’m getting different symptoms in different ears, and how I got the popping sounds before noticing any fluid. My doctor says this could be a virus, but I’m seeing the ENT for the first time tomorrow. I’m scared they’re not going to see anything and send me off.
The only two things I can think of that caused this was that I was riding in my friends car for a long time one night that week and the car had a mildew smell. Other thing is that I rode in a separate friends loud convertible that maybe the exhaust pipe noises caused these symptoms, but I don’t know how hearing damage can cause fluid and nasal inflammation.
Another thing I think about is that my grandpa hated loud noises… but I really hope this isn’t connected. He likely never wore ear protection and always worked around boat engines and engineering docks since a kid. My grandma said she has had similar situations as me in the past where she gets ear fluid and noise sensitivity from sinuses so I’m praying that it is temporary 🙏