#welding monitor

[udwelder]

HD-400B welding monitor: accurate monitoring, leading the new benchmark of welding quality control

In the welding industry, welding quality directly affects the reliability and safety of products. As the "smart eye" of the welding process, the welding monitor can monitor welding parameters in real time to ensure stable and reliable welding quality. Among many welding monitors, Huandian HD-400B welding monitor stands out with welding detector's excellent performance and innovative functions, becoming the industry's leading welding quality control solution.

Accurate monitoring, comprehensive coverage of welding parameters

Compared with other welding monitors on the market, Huandian HD-400B has significant advantages in monitoring accuracy and parameter coverage. Welding analyzer equipment can monitor welding current, voltage, power, power-on time, pressure, displacement, temperature, air pressure and other key parameters in real time to ensure the comprehensive control of the welding process. In contrast, some manufacturers' monitors only support the monitoring of basic parameters such as current and voltage, which cannot meet the needs of high-precision welding.

Intelligent judgment, real-time warning of unqualified products

The HD-400B is equipped with advanced welding quality judgment function. Users can set the upper and lower limits of parameters such as current, voltage, power, pressure, displacement, etc. Once unqualified welding is detected, the system will immediately issue an abnormal alarm and automatically detect unqualified products. This function significantly reduces the defective rate, while some manufacturers' monitors only provide data recording function and lack real-time warning capabilities.

Powerful database, support efficient quality traceability

The HD-400B has a built-in powerful database that can record detailed data and historical alarm information for each welding, with a storage capacity of up to millions of items. Data supports USB flash drive export and generates table files for quality traceability and analysis. In contrast, some manufacturers' monitors have limited data storage capacity, and the export function is not convenient enough to meet the needs of large-scale production.

User-friendly and easy to operate

The HD-400B uses an 8-inch high-definition touch screen, an intuitive user interface and a simple operation process, so even novices can quickly get started. At the same time, welding detector also supports remote monitoring and management, which allows users to understand the welding status anytime and anywhere. However, the monitors of some manufacturers are complicated to operate, lack remote management functions, and have poor user experience.

Conclusion

The HD-400B welding monitor of Huandian has become a leader in the field of welding quality control with its precise monitoring, intelligent judgment, powerful database and user-friendly design. Whethere welding testing equipment is to improve welding quality, increase production efficiency, or support quality traceability, HD-400B has demonstrated excellent performance and reliability. Choosing the HD-400B of Huandian means choosing a smarter and more efficient way of welding quality management.

[oxarcincwenatchee]

OXARC Inc.

At OXARC, we are a proud member of the Meritus Gas Partners federation, combining the capabilities of a large company with the personalized service and support of a local distributor. Located at 291 Ohme Garden Rd in Wenatchee, WA, we specialize in providing cylinder gases, welding supplies, and equipment to businesses across various industries. With our exceptional local service and expertise, we help customers optimize their processes, whether it's improving welding quality and productivity or supplying the right gases for medical, industrial, or retail applications. As your trusted local partner, we are committed to delivering the products and support you need to keep your business running smoothly.

Address: 291 Ohme Garden Rd, Wenatchee, WA 98801, USA

Phone: 509-662-8417

Website: https://meritusgas.com

[diymetalfabrication]

2-month Review & Filter Change: DecDust 1100 Pole Barn Air Filter & Tips For Aftermarket Filters!

Continue reading Untitled

[joyandella-123]

Cameras bring help in many different manufacturing areas, in many ways

My friends in England like to point out, “There are cameras everywhere!” And it is true. What they mean is that cameras for speeders on roadways (a highly unpopular use of the technology that seems to be catching on in the larger U.S. cities), and the ubiquitous security cameras (and not just in London) are everywhere.

We are experiencing something similar in fabricating—really, in most types of discrete manufacturing. (Discrete, as opposed to process, manufacturing has an end product that is a thing, an object made of solid materials.)

Yes, cameras are invading our turf and our machines. The turf invasion started with security cameras, some on the loading dock, some above the shop floor. Now some of the cameras have a roving life on our turf. Their mission is not security but navigation, assisting products like AMRs (autonomous mobile robots) as they go through our shops, warehouses, and shipping departments.

The cameras that are in or on our machines have multiple purposes. In many cases, there are as many cameras as there are purposes on some of the more robust machines. What are some of these purposes? Let’s make a list:

Monitoring. The camera is there to help “keep an eye on things.” Often, this function monitors the proper overall operation of a machine, say, a laser cutter. If the operator or a supervisor has the image of a stopped device, and that device is only halfway through its work, then something is wrong and someone needs to check it out.

State recognition. Robotic and/or autonomous welding systems use color to figure out the welding temperature of a given metal. Or, a camera might measure the amount of light coming through a component to know if it’s time to replace that component. Shape is another attribute that can change over the lifetime of a consumable system.

Augmented reality. This has shown practical use in lasers. The application that is most shown is the one where someone throws a piece of scrap steel onto the cutting bed without aligning straight edges to the side. Although that piece is plopped carelessly, the camera will spot the straight edges and take those into consideration when figuring out a nest or a path to the part. The entire cut job will be moved eight degrees (or whatever the angle is).

Machine controllers. Here is a new and interesting entry for employing cameras in a shop. A camera with the right software can do facial recognition! We already store operator profiles, and in doing so we typically save the most complex work for the most experienced hands. Those with higher skills get to utilize more of the functions of the advanced machine. Now, we can use facial recognition to automatically change the profile when a different, say, press brake operator strolls up to the machine. All the rights and restrictions are put into place upon recognition, and all the data produced will be appended to that operator’s database of work.

My English friends are spot on.

[hsmleindia]

Welding Penetration Inspection System

Welding Penetration Inspection System, also known as a Welding Penetration Monitoring System or Welding Penetration Analyzer, is a specialized technology used in the field of welding to inspect and evaluate the quality of welds. This system is designed to ensure that welds are of the desired quality and meet specific standards. It plays a critical role in industries where welding integrity is essential, such as aerospace, automotive, shipbuilding, and construction. This is an advanced system of weld penetration inspection with a special design high-resolution microscope and USB digital microscopic camera to view and instantly capture a photograph and measure exact weld penetration depth in all type of weld samples with the help of user-friendly software. This system is used to measure all Two-dimensional measurements like length, distance, radius, diameter etc.

[tvmblrsillyman]

playing with the idea of giving ollie a proper robo body (assuming the same design principles i had with helios mascotsona applies to ollie's as well.)

[percussionwelder]

Percussion Welder – Perfect Solution for Unsolvable Micro Welding Problems

https://percussionwelder.com/ - At Percussion Welder, we recognize the challenges and complexities of the welding process. Hence, we provide a comprehensive range of products and services to simplify it. Our Percussion Welder System is specifically designed to give you a competitive advantage and revolutionize micro-welding practices. Percussion welding offers remarkable versatility, allowing the welding of diverse metals like aluminum, brass, copper, steel, and titanium. By utilizing percussion welding, you can consistently achieve high-quality welds that adhere to industry standards while minimizing distortion. This process boasts exceptional speed, efficiency, versatility, and precision, offering unparalleled advantages for various industries. If you are seeking a welding solution that not only meets but surpasses your expectations, reach out to us today to discuss your specific application requirements.

Contact Us: Percussion Welder MTI Micro-Welding 7100 Broadway Building 2, Unit RS Denver, CO 80221 303-536-7838 collin@percussionwelder.com https://percussionwelder.com/

[monayen]

awawawa tysm! (*/∀＼*) then i'll req smth for 17 yo randal w a fem reader! like he's been ignoring reader because he's too busy playing lol or being an asshole on reddit so reader tries to get his attention in other ways--- ( ￣▽￣)

x_thedarkprince_x | Randal Ivory (17ndal)

➷ Paring - Randal Ivory (17ndal) x Fem!Reader [Randal's Friends / Ranfren]

➷ CWs - oral (m. receiving) / blowjobs, pet play, he stink *_*

a/n - i forgot how much i love this freak... i was gonna write him stinkier but im sick with an eye infection and im 90% sure me writing him infected me somehow. also i have never played league but i do watch arcane and play val so i think that's good enough. 'pologies if i got anything wrong in that aspect (not really) also header is @/tapi_taro_ on twt !!

A rhythmic clicking echoed against the dark walls of Randal’s room. It was late — far too late for him to be hunched over his computer, his eyes fixed on the flickering characters on the screen.

He knew it too. Luther had made it clear he wasn’t supposed to be playing this late, even threatening to confiscate his expensive setup if he caught him awake again. Yet here he was, ignoring every warning.

Your legs dangled off the side of the coffin he should've been in hours ago with you, tired eyes flickering at the blue light of the screen. Or more importantly, Randal. 

His long orange hair was disheveled, sticking up in all directions, unbrushed and greasy.  A string of drool hung from the corner of his mouth as he muttered curses under his breath, his razor-sharp teeth glinting in the glow of the monitor. Far too engrossed to even blink.

You sighed, crossing your arms over your chest. It had been days since Randal had given you more than a passing glance. A new season of LoL had started, and you were pretty sure his ass was permanently welded to his chair. The only times he left it were to use the bathroom or grab more soda. Has he even eaten?

Sleep was impossible with the constant noise. The rapid clack of his fingers on the keys, the drag of his mouse across the desk — it all kept you on edge. Even when you managed to drift off, there was always a sharp bang against the side of the table or a shout of some obscene curse, loud enough to snap you awake. And then, you’d have to fight to fall asleep all over again.

You huff in frustration, sitting up from where you’ve been laying against the coffin. “Randal?”

He doesn’t even flinch, his eyes fixed on the screen. For a moment, you wonder if he’s deliberately ignoring you, but the garbled voices from the game blasting through his headset make it clear that he just can't hear. 

You repeat yourself louder, and only then does he push one of his headphones aside, “What?” 

You make a face at his almost exasperated tone, his eyes still not moving towards you, “It's really late.”

He shrugs, lips pressing into a thin line as he shakes his head, barely glancing your way. “Yeah, well, I can’t pause. I’ll be there in a bit, sweetieee.” He drags out the last word with a teasing giggle before adjusting his headphones and continuing playing.

You stand up from the coffin, stretching your arms above your head. Your joints pop and crack, and you wince at the sudden movement. It's been a long day, and you're exhausted. But sleep isn’t going to happen unless he gets off the game.

You take a step towards him, your bare feet padding softly on the carpet. He's so focused on the game that he doesn't even notice you approaching. You lean over his shoulder, peering at the screen. 

He's losing, the game isn't even close. The string of chat logs of him and his teammates arguing in the corner catch your eye. You watch as Randal scowls, quickly typing something in chat. An IP address, but you’re pretty sure it's actually just a random string of numbers. 

Tilting your head, you ask, “Won't you get banned for that?”

Randal doesn't respond, too focused in the game to acknowledge you. You sigh again, a reaction would at least be nice. You're tired of being ignored, desperately wanting some type of attention, affection, anything to make you feel wanted. You're also just tired in general…

You place your hands on his shoulders, kneading the tense muscles. He tenses slightly at your touch, but doesn't pull away. You start to massage his shoulders, working out the knots that have formed from his terrible posture.

"Randal," you say softly, leaning down to whisper against his neck, even though he can't hear you, "You can play with something else…”

He shivers at your breath on his skin, but still doesn't turn to you. You huff, frustrated. 

You drop to your knees, crawling under the desk. You can see his feet, clad in mismatched socks, tapping impatiently on the floor. You reach up, running your hands up his calves, his thighs, until you reach his crotch. 

Taking a deep breath, you began to graze his crotch, him immediately shaking above you, "What are you – hey!" Randal finally noticed your actions, but he made no move to stop you as you continued to rub the fabric of his sweatpants. 

He lowers his headset, leaving them around his neck as he hunches over. “Bad girl! I’m literally about to derank!” 

You feel him stiffen under your touch. "Randal," you murmur again, your hand stroking him slowly. "I want to make you feel good."

Randal let out a shaky breath, his hips twitching forward. "I'm busy," he grumbled, but there was a note of desire behind his pitchy voice.

He makes a strangled noise when you squeeze, finally tearing his eyes away from the screen. He looks down at you, his black eyes lidded. “Fuck… my elo." he breathes, his hips bucking into your palm.

You smile, satisfied that you finally have some of his attention. You tug down his bottoms, freeing his cock. It's hard and hot in your hand, pulsing with need. You swiftly wrap your lips around the head, sucking gently.

Randal groans, his fingers tightening on the mouse. He's still playing, well… attempting to at least. His eyes keep darting back down to you, hands shaking against his keyboard and mouse. 

His thighs tremble more once you begin sucking on the sensitive tip harder, his focus faltering to groan, “C’mon – you can go deeper than that pet,” One of his hands leaves the desk, moving to grip the back of your head.

He groans, hips bucking into your mouth as he pushes your head down, "You're gonna make me lose." It's almost a whine, like it's a genuine bother for you to be down on your knees for him. But he doesn't stop you. If anything, he's pushing you down further, encouraging you with soft, desperate sounds. You take him deeper, tongue swirling around the length of his cock.

You moan around him, sending vibrations through his shaft. He gasps, fingers tangling in your hair.

"Shit, shit, fuck," he chants, voice rising in pitch. His thighs tremble, muscles tensing under your hands.

His free hand still clicks around on the keyboard, your eyes narrowing at the not-surprising ridiculousness of Randal still trying to play the game despite his dick being down your throat. 

You pull off his length with a pop, tilting your head sweetly, "Come on, Randal," you tease, stroking him slowly. "Is the game really that important?"

Randal whines, head thudding back against the chair. With a giggle, he nudges your head back down onto his erection, "I just told these virgins I’m getting my dick sucked, kekeke.”

You bob your head, taking him deep, swallowing around him. His fingers tighten in your hair, pulling sharply. “Hah, keep going pet.” he groans rocking his hips, fucking your face with shallow, needy thrusts. You double your efforts, sucking harder and taking him deeper in your mouth. 

"Fuck, fuck, swallow it–" he cuts off with a strangled cry, hips stuttering. You can feel him throbbing in your mouth, his body tensing. A quick pulse follows before he's flooding your throat. Quickly, you gulp, swallowing his cum down and not letting it leak out your mouth. 

He pants, a lazy grin spreading across his face. He looks down at you, his eyes half-lidded and hazy, slumping down slightly on the chair. 

Randal moves his hand from the back of your head to cup your cheek, his sharp teeth biting his lip, “Goooood pet.” 

Blushing at the praise, you finally crawl up when he moves his chair back, giving you space to get out from under the desk. “Are you sleepy now?” You ask, a cheeky smile on your face as you lean in closer to him. 

Randal lets out another strange giggle before leaning in to plant a quick, wet kiss on your lips.

“Gah, I can taste myself,” he grimaces, pulling back slightly. “Did I burn a hole in your stomach?”

You stifle a laugh and shake your head. “Randal.”

He catches the hint in your voice, finally giving in. With a dramatic sigh, he tucks his soft dick in and pushes up from his chair. “Turn off the monitor then, pretty please?”

You nod, watching as he scratches his ass before collapsing onto his coffin, immediately drifting off to sleep.

Turning to the monitor, you notice a bright red DEFEAT screen glaring back at you. Glancing at the chat, you see the last message a teammate sent before the game ended —

‘GGS report x_thedarkprince_x for throwing’

[worldofstoriesanddreams]

Sparring Session Round 2

Superman assessed his opponent - Captain Marvel, his red-clad team mate and sparring partner. The guy bounced from toe to toe, cracking his knuckles with childlike glee as they waited for the signal to begin.

After their first and only sparring session tore the training room out of the Watchtower, sending it hurtling through outer space; even though they retrieved the tungsten box that was their training room, and Superman's heat vision welded the box back in place; the pair was banned from ever using the room for sparring again.

Justice League trained all members to hone their hand to hand combat skills.

Until Cap joined the team, there wasn't anyone on equal footing with Superman, who could spar with him. Sure, Wonder Woman was the closest match, but Clark still had to be careful not to cause serious injuries, or, heaven forbid, kill her by accident.

Both Superman and Captain Marvel were completely invulnerable, kryptonite excluded, of course.

Batman had found a dead planet the size of planet earth to serve as their training ground.

All communications were done through the earbuds for space missions.

After countless lectures and videos to demonstrate various fighting techniques, Superman and Captain Marvel could finally practice what they learnt, in an all out, no holds barred, training session.

Hal's ring verified that there were no living beings on that planet. It's gravitational force was the same as planet earth, though it had no breathable atmosphere. That didn't pose a problem for Superman or Captain Marvel, but Batman and other regular humans could only watch the session through the livestream from the drones position all around the planet.

Trainers Batman and Wonder Woman, and guest trainer Wildcat from the Justice Society would be watching their session from the monitor room in the Watchtower.

"Twenty bucks says Big Blue will thrash Big Red," said Hal.

"Nah," Flash replied. "Big Red has the speed advantage."

Superhearing picks up everything. X-ray and telescopic vision revealed the entire Justice League and Justice Society crammed into the monitor room, glued to the screen, watching their training session. Plastic man was taking bets, touting their sparring as the match of the century.

Superman rolled his eyes.

"Supes," Captain Marvel tilted his head. "Is anything wrong?"

"Nope," Superman chuckled as he rolled his shoulders in preparation for the fight.

Cap frowned. "If you say so."

"Ready?" Batman growled.

Superman couldn't help smiling as he regarded his exuberant opponent. Their last sparring session was liberating, though way too short.

"Begin," Batman gave the order.

Bouncing around on his toes, jabbing with his fists, Cap executed Wildcat's moves.

The only ground rules were "Don't kill each other. No permanent injuries."

Nothing in the briefing stated that they had to use only what Justice League trainers taught.

Superman executed a Klurkor chop - a form of martial arts he had learned from the archives left in the space bassonet that brought him to earth.

"Holy Moley!" Cap ducked the blow.

Swirling around, Supes performed a kick he had adapted from Kryptonian techniques, striking Cap in the chest, sending him spiralling out of the solar system.

"Stay on the planet," Batman growled.

In a red blur, Captain Marvel's fist pummeled Superman's stomach, knocking the wind out of him, sending him flying into the yellow sun. For some strange reason, Cap's fighting style reminded Superman of a street kid.

That, by the way, was a dumb move on Cap's part. Yellow sun exposure amplifies Superman's power.

"What part of 'on the planet' do you two not understand?" Batman growled.

Supes returned Cap's favour with a punch that sent his red-clad counterpart right through the centre of the planet.

Emerging from the other side, covered in lava, Cap laughed. "Hot mud bath! Your turn."

He body slammed Supes creating another tunnel through the planet's centre.

Lava poured out of the holes, streaming out of the cracks on the ground. Concerned, Cap asked Batman. "How, now?"

"Continue," said the Bat.

In a Kryptonian move that Superman had been wanting to practice, Supes kicked Cap right through the planet.

Emerging, from the other side, beaming like a kid that was having too much fun, Cap punched Supes through the molten core.

The ground shook.

Lava erupted.

Caked in dried lava and ashes, Big Blue and Big Red looked at each other. "Uh oh."

The planet, their new training arena, exploded.

"Terminate exercise," Batman growled. He sounded unhappy, but when is The Bat ever happy. "Return to Watchtower now."

[heartfullofleeches]

Fast Food Reader being forced to deliver pizza like that one episode of SpongeBob, but the customer is either an agent of the secret organization that's been monitoring the restaurant or a person in town that's definitely not a vessel for some other dark entity that both have or have yet to have fallen for them like the supernatural catnip they are. Or it's just a prank call by the ballpit cult because they're dicks.

-

Fast Food Reader: Here's your pizza...

Yan Agent: You forgot my drink - but I'm looking at a tall glass of water right now;)

Fast Food Reader: .... Please just throw me in the back of your van already.

-

Yan "Neighbor": Come in, Come in! You must be so tired from your travels and hungry too! You may have whatever you like and more~

Fast Food Reader: I'm good.

Yan "Neighbor": Did I mention the hot tub

Fast Food Reader, kicking off their shoes: Say no more

-

[The surviving cult members cower beneath booth tables and in bathroom stalls as Fast Food Reader walks around welding a dented baseball bat]

Fast Food Reader: Three hours... You made me walk three hours... in this weather!?!

[Their coworkers watch from the kitchen as they chase cultists around the dining area]

Bathroom Succbus: Well this is the horniest I've ever been on shift. Should be stop them?

The Janitor: Never thought we'd have anything in common, but if I went over there in this moment I'd probably ask them to step on me.

[The mascot pulls the engagement ring off one of the unconscious cultists and follows after Reader as they run outside]

[glassrowboat]

Ruffled Crow. Dottore.

Really just a few headcanons.

Dottore, once upon a time, used to be really bad about safety measures once upon a time, but now there's eyelash stations in every section of his lab along with showers and signs to remind people to wear their safety glasses on every door. Though, he did assign the task of handling that to his segments.

Each segments hair is synthetic, so instead of it being able to grow itself they would have to uproot their hair and fix a new one much like you would do a doll for their new wig (aka the good old push pin method) if they wish to change it.

Dottore has a chemical burn under his mask from an experiment gone awry that caused one of his eyes to go blind. Nowadays, it's been changed out for a robotic eye. It may or may not be like bluetooth connected to the monitor on his mask.

The bracelet Yelan lost that she cherished as family heirloom was actually made by him. When he was in that lab in Liyue (Childe’s story quest for a reminder) he had started tinkering with the idea of making the prototype for what is now his network with how Dottore communicates with his segments. This is why he ended up breaking out in a hysterical fit of laughter when Pantalone brought it to him one day out of the blue and asked him if he knew what it was. 

He knows how to swing dance. It's just you have to be careful with him because those stupid (cunty) boots of his are a hazard. One time they may have even gotten caught on your pants leg and tripped him. A fact he still denies. 

Dottore has a child segment he finds himself disassembling and reassembling every few years. To see the face his own parents turned away running around with a smile, giddy and without worry, is something that always has his stomach turning without fail. So wouldn't it make sense he simply ignores the thing before he turns it to a pile of parts again? So why is he currently building the little boy again with gritted teeth?

Major sweet tooth. To the point he had done some bullshit scientific method to make the perfect baklava. Still, Dottore finds himself preferring the one his mother made.

He does not have any game. Sorry guys, but this is the same man who prefers to hide away in his lab rather than interact with other people. You can't tell me he knows how to flirt, and it ends up affecting any romantic relationship he has because he knows about such practices in theory, but not in reality. It can make his time with you rather....well, let's just say he tries.

(Welder Dottore is so real in my heart, guys) The reason Dottore's bangs are uneven isn't because of a fashion choice, despite the fact he says it is. Rather, it's because one time when he got too wrapped up in his excitement, Dottore didn't properly secure his hair behind the welding mask, and it caught on fire. The only reason he hasn't let it grow back out is because he knows Pantalone would call him out that it was never a fashion choice in the first place. 

He has worked with Sandrone on multiple projects. Their research tends to lean towards the same subject, so it only makes sense that they have collaborated multiple times even if their interactions can be tense and full of snark. But a like, mind that can challenge your ideas is what Dottore needs so he can reach new heights, no? 

His sharp teeth aren't natural. They're the result of one of his first experiments. After all, he didn't have any willing subjects besides himself now, did he?

[wadewnstonwilson]

do you want to play a game?

summary: Wade Wilson (Deadpool) finds himself strapped to a sadistic torture chair in a room filled with gruesome contraptions, yet he remains gleefully sarcastic, much to the frustration of Jigsaw's ominous puppet.

word count: 1.6k

trigger warnings: violence, gore, torture, body horror

authors note: this was a headcanon idea someone posted a while back and asked to have a fic written about it, if it was you please let me know so I can properly tag you!

The room was dimly lit, a mixture of cold steel and rusted iron making up its gruesome decor. Wade Wilson, the infamous Deadpool, sat in the center of the room strapped to a chair, surrounded by a series of sadistic contraptions clearly meant to inspire terror. For most people, this would be the worst day of their lives. But Wade? Wade was thrilled.

“Well, hello, Mr. Saw!” Wade chirped with all the enthusiasm of a kid meeting their favorite mascot at Disneyland. His voice echoed through the dimly lit, blood-streaked room, cutting through the oppressive silence like a hot knife through butter. Strapped securely to a steel chair, Wade looked more like a man sitting in for a casual dental cleaning than someone caught in the clutches of a notorious serial killer.

The room smelled of rust and mildew, the air thick with the metallic tang of dried blood. Around him were a variety of deadly contraptions: gears, blades, and wires all meticulously arranged in a manner that suggested their designer had spent a bit too much time watching home renovation shows. Wade wasn’t scared. If anything, he was curious.

He squinted at the giant monitor flickering to life before him. The screen revealed the infamous Jigsaw puppet, its soulless eyes staring back at him with what Wade could only interpret as disapproval. “Okay, seriously,” Wade continued, completely ignoring the ominous vibe, “do you get these machines wholesale, or are they custom jobs? Because I gotta tell ya, the craftsmanship here? Chef’s kiss.”

The puppet’s expression remained unchanged, its head tilting slightly as if processing Wade’s commentary.

“I mean,” Wade went on, craning his neck as much as his restraints would allow, “are those hand-welded joints? No, really, this is top-tier work. I’ve seen Avengers tech, and honestly? Kinda mid compared to this. Do you have a Pinterest board for inspiration? Or do you just wing it?”

The puppet’s voice crackled through the speaker, distorted and menacing. “I want to play a game.”

“Oh! Oh!” Wade exclaimed, practically vibrating in his seat with excitement. “Twister? Monopoly? No wait, let me guess—Candyland! I love Candyland. Can I be the gumdrop guy? No one ever lets me be the gumdrop guy.”

The puppet’s eye twitched. Or, at least, Wade imagined it did. “Your constant need for validation and unrelenting irreverence have landed you here. If you do not escape this trap in time, your body will be—”

“—ripped apart, blood everywhere, yadda yadda, we get it. You really need a new schtick, Jiggy. I mean, what’s next, making me choose between tacos and chimichangas? Ha! Joke’s on you—I don’t choose. Ever.”

A metallic whir sounded as the trap sprung into action. Sharp blades inched closer to Wade’s arms, clearly designed to slice them off unless he solved the contraption before him.

“Neat,” Wade muttered, leaning as far as the straps allowed to get a closer look. “Do these things come in red?”

------

Logan Howlett prowled through the shadow-choked labyrinth of the abandoned city district, his boots crunching softly against the cracked pavement. The air was thick with the stench of mildew, rotting wood, and despair—an oppressive cocktail that clung to his heightened senses like oil on water. Neon lights flickered weakly from the occasional shattered sign, casting brief, eerie glows across graffitied walls and broken windows. This place had been dead for years, left to fester in its decay.

It was the kind of place Wade Wilson would love.

That thought made Logan’s scowl deepen, his jaw tightening as his claws slid out of his knuckles with a soft snikt. The silver blades glinted faintly in the dim light, their familiar weight offering a grim reassurance. Wade hadn’t answered a single one of Logan’s calls in days. Normally, that would’ve been a welcome reprieve—Logan wasn’t exactly the type to miss Wade’s incessant jokes or ceaseless chatter. But this time, something was off. Wade didn’t just not show up. The guy was like a damn cockroach, always turning up where you least expected him, unkillable and annoying as hell. For him to go silent? That meant trouble.

“Where the hell are ya, Wilson?” Logan growled under his breath, his gravelly voice swallowed by the shadows around him.

He came to a halt, sniffing the air. His hyper-sensitive nose twitched as he sifted through the various odors polluting the area—garbage, oil, rat droppings, the faint tang of rusted metal. And then he caught it, faint but distinct: the unmistakable scent of blood. Not just any blood. Wade’s.

Logan’s teeth clenched as he closed his eyes and inhaled again, isolating the scent. It was there, mixed with sweat and... something else. Fear? No. Wade didn’t do fear. It was exhaustion. Pain. The kind of pain that would kill a lesser man ten times over.

His claws slid back into his hands as he moved, quick and silent, through the maze of alleys. The scent grew stronger, more focused, leading him deeper into the heart of the district. He passed crumbling buildings with boarded-up windows, their skeletal remains groaning in protest against the night wind. A flicker of movement caught his eye—a rat scurrying across his path—but he ignored it. His focus was razor-sharp now, his instincts taking over as he tracked the trail.

The scent led him to a narrow alley that terminated in a massive steel door. It was dented and rusted, the kind of industrial barrier that screamed bad news. A faint smear of blood marked the handle, barely visible in the dim light, but Logan’s eyes caught it immediately. He placed a hand on the door, pausing for a moment to listen. His sharp hearing picked up the hum of machinery inside, accompanied by faint, muffled voices. Or maybe just one voice.

“Wilson,” Logan muttered, his voice a low rumble. His claws unsheathed again, a primal response to the growing anger roiling in his gut. He pushed the door, and it gave slightly under his strength, creaking open just enough to let him slip inside.

The interior was worse than he expected. It was a labyrinth of machinery and steel, a factory of nightmares brought to life. Gears turned noisily, chains rattled, and the faint smell of burnt metal stung his nose. The walls were lined with grotesque contraptions, each one a testament to the sadistic mind that had designed them. But Logan barely registered the horror of the place. His focus was on one thing—the idiot who’d managed to get himself into this mess.

Wade’s scent was stronger now, the blood fresher. Logan followed it through the maze of corridors, his movements a combination of raw instinct and calculated precision. Every muscle in his body was coiled, ready to strike. He rounded a corner, his sharp hearing picking up something new—laughter. Muffled, but undeniably familiar. It was Wade’s laugh, laced with exhaustion and a little bit of hysteria.

“Son of a—” Logan bit off the curse as he quickened his pace.

The sound of his boots on the grated floor echoed faintly, but he didn’t care about stealth anymore. He could feel the beast inside him clawing at the edges of his control, the primal part of him that wanted to tear through whatever or whoever had put Wade in this situation. The scent was nearly overwhelming now, and as he rounded another corner, the sight before him stopped him cold.

There was Wade, suspended in the middle of the room by a series of chains and straps. His suit was torn to shreds, revealing patches of raw, bloodied skin that glistened under the harsh, flickering lights. A grotesque contraption of blades and gears hovered dangerously close to his body, clearly designed to inflict as much pain as possible without delivering a killing blow. Not that Wade would die, of course. That was the point, wasn’t it? Keep him alive. Make him suffer.

And yet, despite the carnage, Wade’s maskless face split into a wide, bloody grin the moment he saw Logan.

“Logie-bear!” Wade called out, his voice hoarse but still infuriatingly cheerful. He waved weakly, his hand slick with blood. “You found me! Took you long enough, you big, hairy softie.”

Logan’s growl was low and guttural, his claws snapping out with a metallic snikt as his gaze swept over the room. His chest heaved with barely contained rage, the feral side of him threatening to take over. He took one step closer, his amber eyes locked on Wade.

“You’re a goddamn idiot,” Logan snarled.

“And you’re a goddamn knight in shining adamantium,” Wade shot back, coughing slightly but still managing to sound insufferable. “Now, how about you get me down from here before I lose more blood? Not that I’m complaining—I mean, it’s great for weight loss, but—”

“Shut up, Wilson,” Logan snapped, but his claws were already slicing through the chains holding Wade. He caught the mercenary as he fell, holding him awkwardly but securely.

“Aw, you do care,” Wade muttered, resting his head against Logan’s shoulder.

Logan didn’t respond. He was too busy glaring at the room, silently daring anything—or anyone—to try stopping them. The beast inside him wasn’t done yet, but for now, it could wait. First, he needed to get Wade out of here. Then, he’d deal with the bastard responsible for this.

“Let’s go,” Logan growled, carrying Wade toward the exit.

“Thanks, Daddy,” Wade murmured, his voice thick with exhaustion but still managing to be as annoying as ever.

Logan sighed. “I should’ve left you in the chair.”

[oxarcincwenatchee]

OXARC Inc.

At OXARC, we are a proud member of the Meritus Gas Partners federation, combining the capabilities of a large company with the personalized service and support of a local distributor. Located at 291 Ohme Garden Rd in Wenatchee, WA, we specialize in providing cylinder gases, welding supplies, and equipment to businesses across various industries. With our exceptional local service and expertise, we help customers optimize their processes, whether it's improving welding quality and productivity or supplying the right gases for medical, industrial, or retail applications. As your trusted local partner, we are committed to delivering the products and support you need to keep your business running smoothly.

Address: 291 Ohme Garden Rd, Wenatchee, WA 98801, USA

Phone: 509-662-8417

Website: https://meritusgas.com

[diymetalfabrication]

New Automatic Shop Air Filtration Unit With Built In Air Quality Monitor - Unboxing And Testing!

Today we unbox and test the Abestorm DecDust 1,100CFM shop air filtration system in my 30×48′ pole barn shop! I do a little bit of everything in this shop from woodworking to welding, painting, 3d printing, and more. Sometimes it gets pretty smoky and smelly in the shop. In the winter it sucks to open the window when it is 20 degrees outside, so hopefully this helps clear the air some while I am…

[shywhumpauthor]

I like the idea of possessive Whumpers with their Whumpees in a setting that’s not direct captivity

Like Whumpee is still living their life, going to work and stuff, from the outside everything seems fine with them. Inside their house, though, of course it’s anything but.

I want the subtle signs of power. The necklace Whumpee wears, that nobody—save for one very specific person—ever gets close enough to notice that there isn’t a clasp—it’s welded on.

Their watch, seemingly a normal smartwatch, but it’s not connected to their own phone. Their location is always being shared to Whumper, and they better pray that the heartbeat monitor on it keeps working because if Whumper thought they took it off for even a minute, they’d be fucked.

Numerous wounds and bruises, hidden under gauze, then bandages, then a long sleeved undershirt, and finally their work clothes. They feel like the fabric is choking them, temperature growing unbearable in the many layers and the office’s heater. But they can’t take it off, not even their jacket.

The dark circles beneath their eyes, concealer smeared over their face to hide the bruises. When their coworkers ask why their voice is so hoarse, why their eyes are so swollen, they respond “just a head cold,” and quickly return to work.

They pray for somebody to notice the signs, and at the same time they hope no one will ever find out, fearing not only what Whumper would do to them, but what they would do to the coworker too.

[penguinpartypalooza]

I N D I G O M I S T

Story by @lilmissrandom4607

more under the cut

AHF is assumed a robot. Wearing an air tight mask with an oxygen tank disguised as a fuel can, they lug around survival equipment and their trusty flamethrower. They come from another dimension, one that trained them hard. Them and their trusty bunny Buni are ready to take on the mist, but would they avoid getting infected? It's unknown if either can. Due to the assumed robo-role, no one realizes that AHF could most likely get infected. How the two didn't when traveling dimensions is a mystery. Buni always wears a gas mask. He's the only one that knows how to unlock AHF's air tight robot head. They welded their mask shut, no more mouth and their hair tightly in the metal head as any flesh is covered. Being the EPF's fire lead in their original home, they make sure to have several things on hand in case they need to run in a pinch. Their mask is now tuned to be a heart monitor, showing their status to Buni. Both communicate via tapping. The code they use helps them to figure out what their plans are. Let's hope they they'll be able to navigate this new island together. Let the stress not get to them after barely escaping their old island.