#locking compression plate

[siorasurgical-post]

Q.C Torque Screw Driver Handle 2.0 mm Tip is a trauma instrument that is used for the application of orthopedic screws to secure locking plates during the stabilization of fractures. You can avail of a high-quality range of trauma implants and instruments from Siora Surgicals Pvt. Ltd., a leading orthopedic manufacturer in India. The company also offers world-class OEM/contract manufacturing services worldwide.

[siorasurgicalsblog]

Broken bones are no fun, they cause extreme pain. Overall, it disrupts life in a major way. But fear not, modern medicine has an answer for many fractures: open reduction and internal fixation, or ORIF for short. This orthopedic surgery requires different types of trauma implants including locking bone plate, bone screws, pins, and wires.

[siora-surgicals]

Locking Plate Orthopedic Implant

Locking Plate is an advanced trauma implant that is used for the fixation of different types of fractures. These plates are designed to have threaded screw holes that provide a fixed-angle construct. Special locking screws are used for the application of these plates that lock against the corresponding threads present in the plate. Siora Surgicals Pvt. Ltd. is a renowned manufacturer of a CE-certified range of orthopedic locking plates and other trauma implants. They are available in different sizes and titanium & stainless steel.

[siiorasurgicalspvtltd]

Curved Broad Locking Compression Plate 4.5/5.0 mm finds application for the treatment of fractures in the clavicle, scapula, humerus, distal tibia & fibula, and pelvis. The plates are made with combi holes and this allows the surgeon to use both locking and non-locking screws as required according to the type of fracture. Siora Surgicals Pvt. Ltd. is a renowned orthopedic manufacturer in India that produces locking compression plates in stainless steel and titanium. 

[mrs-ghost-2]

One Round Man (Round 1)

Pairing: Boyfriend!Simon x fem!reader

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: swearing, oral (m receiving), pet names, Dom/sub tones, sub!simon, dom!reader, basically smut

-Not checked so all mistakes are my own as I wrote this on mobile. This is only round 1! Feel free to reblog and comment! I plan on posting round 2 soon. As always, MDNI and 18+ only! :)

Simon had a lot on his plate. Had people counting on him. Expecting things of him. He had places he needed to be and things that needed to be done and people he needed to impress. He is a part of the 141, after all. His name opened doors for him, but it also crushed his bones and soul under the weight of it, too.

But he also had you. You didn’t expect anything from him other than for him to be present in the moment. For him to be with you physically, and to help him be there mentally, too. Even if that meant he wore a pair of silk ties around his wrists and was tied to the headboard every once in awhile.

Simon had had a long night; too much adrenaline after a training mission and too much paperwork and no way to work off the rage that was brewing under his skin and heating his blood. But he knew that you were still awake, the light shining from underneath your door an obvious sign that you waited up for him.

He knocked twice, two loud thumps on your door and then he posted up between the wooden frames. Fingers curled around the thin wood, chest heaving under his compression shirt and veins bulging in his neck.

“Coming!” You called out, soft feet padding towards the door and swinging it open to see Ghost- your boyfriend and most stubborn patient in the med bay- staring down at you with fire behind his eyes.

You had gotten a heads up from Captain Price earlier that evening that Ghost had been through the wringer with the newest soldiers on base and he would be feeling…pent-up. You nodded and thanked him before bidding him goodnight and heading back to your barracks room.

“Simon.” You acknowledged, always seeing beneath the eye black and skull balaclava to the man beneath it.

“Help.” Was the only thing he said, bulldozing his way through the doorframe and collapsing onto your king-size bed.

“You know the drill, Si.” You loved that he trusted you enough to be vulnerable, to put his mental, emotional, and physical safety into your hands both as a doctor and as a significant other.

“Yes, lovie.” He drawled out, thighs spreading to allow you to sit comfortably between them and wrists crossing above his head to wait patiently.

Simon was a soldier first and foremost, but he only followed orders from people he trusted. So assuming the position without back talk? He trusted you beyond words.

“Need me to take care of you, Si? Help you relax?” You asked him, gauging where his head was at while you grabbed the silk from the drawer under your bed and moved to straddle his wide hips.

“Please. ‘m desperate.” He made a move to grab your hips but thought better of it and put his hands back to their original spot.

“Keep your hands above your head.” You ordered softly, fingers making quick work of tying the strands of silk around his thick wrists and looping them together to essentially “lock” his hands and keep them out of your way.

“Yes, lovie.” Simon’s head fell back against the bed frame, exposing the hard lines of his collarbone and the soft, scarred skin of his throat.

You grinned and leaned forward, plush tits pressing against his chest from underneath your (his) oversized shirt. He groaned low in his throat, Adam’s apple bobbing as your teeth sank into his neck and you sucked a deep purple mark into his skin.

“Fuck, kitten.” He grunted in barely-there pain and his hips rocked up against yours.

“Watch it, Simon.” You gently smacked his hip in warning and he sighed before nodding and settled back against the mattress.

You wanted him pliant. You wanted him to be present with you and the only thoughts in his mind to be about you, your mouth, and letting you take his stress away. You wanted the lights on his eyes but his brain empty to everything but pleasure.

“You gotta be patient, Si.” You murmured against his neck as you peppered kisses along the wide expanse of his chest.

“I am not a patient man, lovie.” He responded, eyes closing as he felt your fingers slide under the hem of his compression shirt and start rubbing soft circles into his scarred skin.

“I know you can be. You can be so good and patient for me. I believe in you.” You cooed, finger tips curling to start drawing nail marks across his abdomen.

“Only for you, kitten. Fu-fuck, only for you.” Your hips started rocking against his, the thick bulge in his tac pants creating the best seat for you.

No words were exchanged for the next few moments; instead, you continued to roll your hips in slow circles against his covered cock while dragging up his shirt inch by inch. Simon knew better than to try and rush you so he decided to do his best to sink into the mattress and let you have your fun. He was fighting to keep his eyes open to watch you while you carefully pulled his shirt up to rest high on his chest and leaned forward to begin mouthing wet kisses and sucking on patches of his warm skin to leave marks for him later.

“Doing okay, love?” You asked him, checking in to make sure he was doing okay while you worked to get his belt buckle undone and tugged the button of his pants to release it.

“Jus’ fine, swee’heart.” Simon’s head lulled to the side and he was only able to nod.

You smiled up at him, keeping your eyes locked on his as you tugged the zipper of his pants down as far as it would go. He knew to keep his eyes on you as you worked his pants down to his ankles so he was laid beneath you with his shirt shoved up his chest and only his black boxers covering his aching cock.

“C’mon, kitten, touch me. Wan’ your mouth on it.” Simon begged, hips jerking up when you began palming him through the dark fabric.

“You’ll have my mouth when you’re good and stop moving.” You admonished, pulling your hand away to shoot him a frown.

“F-fuck, I’ll be good. I promise.” He was slowly falling away from his anger and began to rely on his need to please you and have you happy with him. It was the softer side that you only got to see behind closed doors.

“Promise?” You cock your head to the side, the index finger of your right hand slowly dragging up from the covered base of him to where you know his tip waits, pulsing for you.

“Promise.” Simon swore, eyes heated behind his mask as he watched you bend over from your position between his thighs so you could trace the path your finger just took with your tongue.

“Oh, fuck.” You heard his head smack against the bed frame as you sucked at the wet patch of fabric covering the already-leaking head of his cock.

Just barely, you could see him from your frame of view and the sight almost had you cumming in your panties. His thick eyelashes brushed against his cheeks and you could see his mouth fall open from underneath his balaclava.

“Can I take the mask off, Simon?” You pulled your mouth away but kept your hand busy while you waiting for his permission.

“Yes, shit. Take i’ off.” You didn’t have to be told twice.

You yanked the mask off his head, laying it on the bedside table before turning back to see his now-uncovered face.

“Wanted to see you fall apart.” You explained to him, getting back to your previous position and suckling at the leaking tip of him while your fingers made quick work of tugging his boxers down his thighs to meet his pants.

Simon can do nothing but take the sweet torture, his head falling to the side to watch you try to wrap your fingers around the base of his rigid length while you extend your tongue and run it from base to tip.

“Such a sweet fuckin’ mouth, lovie. Gonna kill me one of these days.” He growled out, chasing your lips and tongue as you move to suck marks into the V of his hips.

“I can’t have that, now can I? This is too much fun to stop now.” You laugh low, warm breath hitting the blooming bruises on his skin as you take the base of his cock back in your hand and wrap your wet lips around his tip.

It’s like a blow to the stomach for Simon as he feels your tongue swipe across the leaking slit before sliding down to curl around the sensitive underside. His stomach caves in and he fights to not break the silk ties; he doesn’t want to disappoint you but he feels like he’s going to combust if you don’t start moving faster. He’s desperate to feel his cock down your throat, to feel the spit used as lube drip down onto his balls and puddle in the sheets. He wants to hold each side of your head while you suck him, wants to lovingly brush his thumbs along your aching jaw, wants to have you stick your tongue out while he bounces the tip of his throbbing dick against it before showing it down your throat.

But he also wants to be good for you. Wants to make you proud of him for staying in his spot, leaving his wrists tied, mind empty of everything but how amazing your mouth and tongue feels wrapped around one and then both of his balls while you jerk him roughly in your palm. He craves the feeling of his impending orgasm building at the base of his spine, of knowing that he can’t really do much but take the sweet torture/pleasure that you gift him.

“‘m gonna cum if you keep tha’ up, kitten.” Simon warns you, panting for breath as you move from his balls back to the head of his dick.

“Didn’t say you could cum yet, Si.” You retort, removing your mouth completely but still jerking him off with long, slow strokes.

“Lovie, please. Wanna cum for you, wan’ you to swallow it for me and let me see it disappear.” Simon begs, mind in the gutter as he babbles his pleas for you to swallow him down once more and grant him the glory of your mouth and tongue for him to cover in his load.

“You sound so pretty when you beg, Si. You have my permission to cum but it has to be in the next sixty seconds or else this is all you get.” He nodded quickly, determined to listen and who was he to lie and say that he would even need sixty seconds?

Ten seconds and he’s a goner, stomach caving in as he shoots ropes of cum across your tongue and down your throat. You do your best to swallow around him while you continue to jerk his still-hard length, tears leaking from the corners of your eyes as he continuously thrusts his hips to fuck your mouth through his orgasm. Eventually he collapses against the bed, slightly shuddering and swearing softly as he fights to regain composure over himself.

“Only sixty seconds, huh? You think m’gonna be done after one round, kitten?” Simon questions you, finally having enough of his bearings to take stock of the new dynamic.

You grinned at him, leaning up and backing down the mattress slowly as you see his eyes darken and one rough yank of his wrists has the silk bindings snapping off and falling to the floor.

“You forget, lovie. I’m not a one-round man.”

[artificialgirl]

Secondhand Market

Her fingers run along your smooth plating, tracing a seam in the cool metal until they find the release. You blurt out a wavering protest as she applies gentle pressure and pops the hatch open in your back- She is not a registered technician, and improper maintenence procedures could cause damage to both her body and your hardware. She ignores you, cutting off your explanation with a command. "Mute". Your speakers fall quiet and you're left there, kneeling silently as she stares into the hatch in quiet contemplation.

Your rear camera shows you her hand extending towards you again, and though you move to block her, you're not quick enough. Your body automatically jolts to a halt as her hand plunges into your machinery, leaving you in a locked state in order to prevent any potential compression damage to your unexpected technician's hand.

She braces herself against your still body as she peers in, looking for something. "Illuminate internals". You feel warmth spread through you as the soft glow of your internal lights creeps up her face. She reaches for a screwdriver as she pushes a bundle of wires away from your left abdominal piston, sending a wave of overwhelming sensation across your circuits as the wires tug gently at their ports.

Still and silent, you can do nothing but rumble almost undetectably as she begins to unscrew the cover for your central memory unit and pops in a protocol chip. She doesn't remove her hand from the wire bundle, and even with the minimal amount of pressure on the ports you can feel tactile processors overheating and fans whirring as you struggle to process the sheer amount of raw feeling. Your vents let out a small gasp of steam as the liquid coolant floods into their chambers, and she pulls her hand back as she realizes what's happening. "Shit. Sorry. Um, unmute".

Your speaker audio briefly peaks as a thousand thoughts you expected to be silent pour out into the room, and you see her smirk as the cacophony of private thoughts fades out and the tail ends of the longest few become briefly clear and distinguishable to human ears. A quiet laugh escapes her lips as she pops the panel closed again and gets up.

"Can you list your registered technicians for me?" You pull yourself back up to a standing position as you repeat the list back to her. Only one name comes from your speakers, and it's one they've never produced before. She grins as you as you realize the name is hers. "Good! Now, let's go home."

[socially-awkward-skeleton]

tagged by @trench-rot thank you <3

Spicy NSFW snippet below from the vampire!au (if you want to join that tag list opt in here)

banner by @/cafekitsune

warnings for: p in v sex, blood, Rory getting to be just a little dominant (as a treat)

Goddamn tired. He’d been awake for nearly 36 hours straight, finally given a chance to rest after prepping for another mission. The briefings had become the least of his worries, the same old-same old, but still every possible scenario circled his thoughts like he was a bloody clown with spinning plates on sticks, making sure not a single one fell on his watch. Laying back in his bed, Price released a long, burdened exhale up towards the ceiling. Staring at the boring beige paint that was military standard as if he had expected it to change, running his hands back and forth through his hair. Thoughts of pouring himself a drink or perhaps lighting up a cigar for a little stress relief sparked behind his eyes.

And then the door to his quarters creaked open —

It was the silence of the night, the others long since turned in, and while everyone else on base should have been sleeping, he realized he wasn’t entirely alone. 

She appeared like an apparition. The door closing shut behind her with the flick of her delicate wrist, the lock clicking just as he gulped down a heavy swallow, his saliva thick in his throat, his tongue feeling sizes too large for his mouth. 

His heart thundered in his chest, pounding in his ears, silencing any of his previous worries. White noise blanketed the gray matter. A haze as thick as fog blurred his vision, tunneling it until all he saw was her – everything else was just background noise. Non-existent. 

Her lithe form crawled up from the foot of the bed. The mattress creaked, bending to her weight, and his stomach dropped as something feral coiled inside him. Survival instinct. Fight or flight. Nerves fired, synapses screamed every red flag and siren and they died away before his body was even given a chance to react. Years of experience, training, battle readiness, all made into myth as big, beautiful hazel doe-eyes locked onto him from under long, dark lashes – the gleam of a predator within them. Hunger. A starving beast. Stalking towards him with the sleek sway of a panther. Slithering up the bed, an adder – deadly, dangerous. Intoxicating. His breath came in short and heavy. Sitting up against his pillows, his whole body felt like it had been entombed in earth, muscles unable to move without the use of brute force, and he’d been made docile under that singular stare, crushing him beneath it. His chest compressed, suffocating, squeezed tight until it hurt just to breathe. Pale, slender fingers stretched out, and with the reaper’s touch, they pushed him down onto the mattress, forcing him down. His struggle, entirely futile under her feather-lite touch. The strength of a two tonne tank contained in her fingertips and total control slipped through his fingers the way the fibers of the sheets within his fists did. A shuddered breath tumbling over his lips before he sucked it back in through gritted teeth with a labored hiss. Frozen hands traveled down arms that could toss a man over his shoulder or throw them over a barrier wall, and he’d never felt so unbearably pathetic. Held captive, imprisoned in his own bed like a child who’d woken from a terrible nightmare and didn’t even have the strength to scream. Soft palms drifted along his limbs, marble-smooth, stone-cold. Shivers slid down his spine, fractals of ice freezing the blood, spreading through his veins and making each pump of the work-horse muscle in his chest painful. Fingers slipped around his wrists, manacles that made his own digits lock like the blistering wind of a frozen tundra had chewed its way through his gloves and began to gnaw at the skin below. His jaw clenched, heels digging into the mattress in some feeble attempt to break free from her hold as she settled herself on his lap, straddling him, milky-white thighs trapping him between them and each desperate attempt to flee only caused the blanket covering him to slip further down his hips, revealing the dark curls that bordered the root of his cock. He bit his lip, chewing on the flesh as his hips bucked, groaning, deep and low from the back of his throat. “Christ, Ror. Please, darlin’...”

“Please what?” She purred, leaning towards him, her mouth inches away from his. Testing him, toying with him. Her soft breath ghosted over his lips like a cool breeze in summer, chilling the heat that simmered beneath his flesh, sending yet another shiver coursing through him as the sweat that began to slick his skin and dampen the hair on his body was wicked away by her frozen touch rather than the evaporation of body heat. The soft swells of her breasts pressed against him, but there was no heartbeat there, the cavity may as well have been hollow below. It didn’t rise or fall either, her lungs lying as still as the grave. “Fuck, woman, can’t just come in here and tease me like this,” he gruffed, teeth gritting together, brow furrowed. With each lift of his pelvis, he would grind against her, stroking his thick length against her velvety soft folds, and despite the icy temperature of her flesh he still hardened to the stiffness of a glacier in return. She giggled and it was the sweetest sound he had ever heard – it was bloody torture. He was more worked up than usual, desperate and aching after days without rest, and she was playing him with the gall of a cat whose claws had managed to curl themselves around the tail of a rat. Lifting his arms above his head, manipulating and maneuvering him like he was a fucking posable doll, she pinned his hands above his head and brushed the tip of her nose against his, paying extra attention to the little mole that sat there. “Gonna get you back for this, sweetheart. Mark my words.” Her hum in response vibrated through his skin and rattled his chest. “Promises, promises.” That sweet voice of hers melting his urge to flip her over and take the upper hand, conquering her gorgeous body – not that he could if he would, she was much too strong for that now.

Growling, his eyes narrowed at her, the piercing blue stare holding her dead to rights. “You’re bloody cruel.” “Oh, shut it,” she said with that goddamn smirk of hers curling her mouth and awakening her angelic dimples. 

The nip at his lower lip, her pearly white fangs pricking against him, caused another groan as his hips rolled towards her. Trying – and failing – once more to lift his arms from beneath her grasp. “So impatient, my darling. Think I never get you off with the way you’re acting.” Brows knitting together, he looked up from beneath them with a darkened expression. His mouth scrunching in frustration, his square jaw cut with sharp edges as he lifted his chin defiantly and a low rumble built like rolling thunder in the distance. “Do not give me that look,” she scolded him, “You’re the one who asks for these bloody games, love.”

His brow cocked and a short huff fluttered the dark waves that framed her face. Much too fucking pretty a face. “Am I not allowed to indulge in a little fantasy, my girl? How many men get to say their lady is a bloody vampire? Doesn’t mean I want to be left in the cold though, Ror. Driving me mad here.”

“Party pooper,” she muttered before capturing his mouth in a deep kiss. Each press of her lips to his seemed to last forever, languid and slow, as sensual and seductive as the very aura that surrounded her since being turned several years back.

Her lips, like the cool side of the pillow, were refreshing, invigorating. The taste of her was sweet, the spoonful of sugar that made the shitshow of life go down a little easier. Grunting as he shifted beneath her, her hardened nipples brushing over his chest and she whined into his mouth.

“Sweetheart…” He hated to plead, hated how weak it made him sound, hated giving anyone that sort of power over him but Christ, if she couldn’t pull every little whimper and moan from him like it was second nature to her. “Oh, my darling,” she cooed, pulling away, her lips glistening with the sheen of his saliva upon them. “You really must be suffering.”

He’d give anything to break free, to run his hands up and down the smooth curves of her waist and over the round of her hips, squeezing her firm little arse cheeks in his rough palms. To be able to grip her tight and drive her back and forth on his shaft, directing her, watching pleasure wrack her body, making her moan the way only he could; but instead, he was stuck there like a bug pinned under the glass in some hobbyist’s collection. 

Her hands squeezed around his wrists a little tighter, constricting the blood flow, the flesh growing hot and red below as his life’s essence pooled in place. Closing her eyes, she sat there silently, unmoving – like a corpse. She used to only be able to read him by memorizing his tics and tells, perceptive in her approach to dealing with him. Now, she could hear his heartbeat, the change in his breath, smell his sweat, feel the blood pump in his veins through his very skin. It had been an unnerving development at first, the woman he loved becoming an undead lie detector with blood-sucking instincts. “Rory,” he husked her name, a quiet whisper traveling in the space between them. Her full lips curled into a half grin and she gazed down at him, her eyes warm and brimming with life despite her circumstances. “You really want your hands free, don’t you?”

Price nodded, jaw tense, his throat bobbing as the pulse point in his neck hammered so hard it nearly strangled him. “Can only take not touchin’ you for so long, darlin’.”

Pulling her hands away, she sat back, her back arching in a gentle curve as she leaned away from him. The entire swath of her silky flesh available to him to roam his callused hands against, appreciating every inch to his heart’s content. Sitting up, moving with the reflexes that made him so dangerous in the field, he wrapped his arms around her, gripping her tight and pulling her against his chest. “Lift up, sweetheart,” he ordered, slipping a hand between her legs and teasing the entrance to her core with the head of his cock. As she lowered onto him, his breath hitched. Taking all of him, every last inch, they groaned in unison. “Fucking hell, love,” he purred in her ear as her hips started to roll against him, her slick coating his shaft as tight walls clenched against him. His eyes fluttered shut and his head rolled back, exposing the flesh of his neck, releasing an inaudible moan. One arm coiled around her waist, pressing her body to his, as the other slid up her back, his hand delving into the strands of her hair, bunching it up in a fistful. Straining to maintain clarity of thought, his whole body stiffened, his tendons all standing in stark relief.  

She gripped his shoulders, snaking her arms around the back of his neck. Her body rocking against his. Hips grinding, rotating. He was faced with Heaven on Earth while buried deep inside her. Price nuzzled in against her neck, breathing in the decadent scent of her perfume – sultry, heady, unfathomably deep. His mouth trailed along the smooth column, laving his tongue over the cool flesh as his beard rasped against her. 

“So damn beautiful,” he mumbled, lost in the feel of her undulating, of being inside her. Trapped in a daze of passion, a dark paradise with a woman cursed with everlasting life so long as she had a constant food source, he was lost in the sensation of reaching the precipice she was leading him towards in her thrall. Losing track of time and space, her soft lips grazed against his artery and the barely there touch of pillowy flesh pulled him back into reality. 

With his jaw cupped in her hand, holding him in place, her thumb brushed softly through the whiskers of his beard and the stubble of the five o'clock shadow on his neck and jaw. The quiet hiss of her parting lips was the only warning he received before the tip of her tongue flickered out tasting the beat of his heart. Fangs descending against his skin, she dragged them gently and pierced the flesh with all the pain of the prick of a needle. Gasping, he gulped air like he was drowning. The pinch of her bite soothed by her plump lips wrapping around the wound and sucking on the flesh, drawing out more of his blood that bubbled to the surface.

The hushed slurp of her open mouth wrapped around him reminded him of biting into a ripe peach in summer and the juice that ran down the chin with it. Succulent, sweet. And as her hand caressed his jaw, gentle and tender, coaxing him deeper into her maw, he was sure that was how her brain had learned to rewire itself with her change so she could stomach what she was forced to do for sustenance.

His fingers dug into her, searching for but never finding any source of heat while warm blood trickled down the contour of his neck and over his barrel chest, pooling where their bodies met as she continued to drink. The suctioned sensation was just enough to keep him from falling over the edge, maintaining at least a portion of lucid thought before the lightheadedness started to creep into the corners of the little world they had created together. “Rory,” he murmured, knotting her hair in his fist as he tried to pull her mouth away. It didn’t take much for her to get the hint, panting as she tore herself away from her source of fresh blood, drips of it curling down her chin from the corners of her mouth. “Sorry, love,” she breathed, her tongue darting out to clean her lips as she wiped the traces of claret from her face with her hand. “‘S okay,” he rumbled before pulling her in for a kiss, tasting himself on her tongue. 

He redoubled his efforts to reach his climax and hers, the metallic tang lingering in the air and in his mouth, clinging to his gums and inside his flared nostrils with each heaved breath. 

NSFW taglist: @roofgeese @efingart @josephseedismyfather @g0dspeeed @cloudofbutterflies92

@imogenkol @inafieldofdaisies @raresvtm @evvie-a @clicheantagonist

@rc-dragons @la-grosse-patate @direwombat @statichvm @cassietrn

@lady-eudaemonia @voidika @strangefable @simplegenius042 @writeforfandoms

@elligatorrex

[letterstomonkey]

Mahogany

Picture me inside Mahogany for this moment:

Mahogany, on the count of Three

Mahogany, compress my restless knees

Mahogany, fold inward my Skeleton

Mahogany, I meet here my friend, again

Mahogany, hugging my chin tucked in

Mahogany, how my head Bowed in lament

Mahogany, hear me through leery Amen

Mahogany, shield me from wolf in sheepskin

Mahogany, my ankles protrude in my seat

Mahogany, I rest my breast plates at your feet 

Mahogany, alchemize my Vulnerability

Mahogany, make light of naive liability

Mahogany, my hiding spot, burnt sienna colored

Mahogany, breathlessly, I’m locked inside your cupboard

Mahogany, whatever happened to me—

Keep me safe and keep it covered.

[siorasurgical-post]

LCP Locking Compression Plate – Stabilizing Fractures

LCP Locking Compression Plate is used for the treatment of different types of fractures, non-unions, and osteotomies. Fixed using corresponding locking screws, these medical-grade LCP plates are made having combi-holes that also allow fixation using cortical screws. These compression plates are available in different sizes and are made using medical-grade stainless steel and titanium. They have an anatomically contoured shape that ensures proper fixation over the fracture. Siora Surgicals Pvt. Ltd. is an experienced manufacturer of locking compression plates and other orthopedic devices. The company also offers high-quality OEM/contract manufacturing services across the globe.

[siorasurgicalsblog]

When you think of broken bones, images of casts and internal metal locking plates might come to mind. But there's another player in the bone healing game: the external fixation system. This innovative approach offers a unique set of advantages for certain fractures and situations. For more info read our blog.

[villain-sympathizer]

I was wondering if you write Magne? There isn’t a lot of fics about her so I was wondering if I could make a request?

Maybe Magne and reader are shopping buddy’s, but reader has feeling for her cause she so beautiful (cause she is), and maybe Magne feeling like she isn’t loveable (just for angst), and maybe the reader prove her wrong by just letting out all they’re feeling for her by accident, then leading to them kisses her. And Magne is just 😳

Sorry, I just love her so much and I think she deserves the world.

YES YES OF COURSE, magne needs so much more love than she has 💕💕💕 sorry it's a lil short, i've got a lot on my plate recently that needs all my brain power lmao

────── ･ ｡ﾟ: .☽ . : ｡ﾟ･ ──────

[Magne x GN!Reader]

[Contents: GN!Reader; No gendered descriptions for reader; Written in third person with “[Name]” instead of “y/n” so OCs can be included! Fluff; Accidental love confessions; Mutual pining; AU where Magne doesn’t die cause shes a bad bitch]

[Content warnings: Brief moment where Magne is insecure about her gender identity, but it's pretty short; MC uses the "womens" dressing rooms but still remains gender neutral, as they're going with Magne to make her feel more comfortable]

────── ･ ｡ﾟ: .☽ . : ｡ﾟ･ ──────

The city streets weren’t very busy, seeing as it was the middle of the week in the early afternoon, and the majority of folks were still at work with the exception of some stragglers. It was perfect for a shopping trip according to Magne, since less people were likely to be roaming about, and thus less Pro Heroes to recognize her. Ever since the raid on the League of Villains hideout and their debacle with Overhaul, keeping Magne’s identity a secret out in public required a lot more effort. Though, it seemed to be a blessing in disguise – pun intended – since this allowed her to experiment more with her fashion tastes and overall gender identity, like she’s always wanted.

Which is why a shopping trip was so important to her and [Name], her best friend and emotional support throughout both their time in the League. Mr. Compress and Giran had managed to fence off some stolen goods to support the League now that AFO was locked away, and Magne decided to spend her rations alongside [Name] on clothes shopping. They said it was for proper disguises, which is true, but it was mostly to regain a sense of normalcy in such a low point of their lives. Horrible coping method, sure, but it brought some light on their darkest days, so who cared?

“Ohhh, I know a good thrift shop that has a ton of styles and trends!” Magne says to [Name] as they make it out of the busiest part of the city without being recognized. Both were clad in baggy, old sweatpants and rugged hoodies to hide their body types from security cams and the public alike. With Toga’s help, Magne was able to look at least a little more put together, with her hair temporarily dyed a darker shade of red and styled in a more trendy, casual way. Her iconic sunglasses were replaced with a different pair, something more similar to reflective green aviators. [Name], on the other hand, simply wore a cloth mask to hide their appearance, with some colored contacts and cut hair for good measure.

“Sounds good to me. Lead the way, beautiful,” [Name] responded to her, the nickname used in a teasing manner that held a genuine truth within it.

Magne giggles at the compliment, waving her hand dismissively. “Oh, don’t make me blush, bestie,” she chirps, before leading them both in the direction of the shop, an excited hop in her step.

---

The thrift store was small and quaint, but true to Magne’s word, held plenty of old-fashioned-yet-trendy clothing styles. The two were currently heading towards the fitting rooms, discussing their outfit possibilities before Magne stops in her tracks just outside arcs to the fitting hallways. [Name] gives her a confused look, before noticing why she was seemingly debating with herself.

The fitting halls were separated by “male” and “female” options, which was unfortunately expected. Magne was typically very confident in her gender identity, especially around her friends, but there were still times where she doubted her physical appearance – especially since it wasn’t mainstream “feminine" enough for most people. And in cases like a dressing room, where body types always seemed to matter the most to everyone in range, her worries flared up instantly.

Realizing why their friend was having an internal debate, [Name] reached over and gently rested a hand on her arm. “Choose whichever makes you most comfortable,” they assure her. “I’ll join with you in there, and if anyone gives you any shit, I’ll make jewelry out of their teeth to go with your outfits.”

Magne’s small but genuine huff of laughter calms [Name]’s nerves a bit, glad to have broken her out of her spiraling thoughts.

“You always know what to say, don’t you?” Magne says to them, a comforting smile on her lips as the two of them head into the hall marked “ladies”.

---

Outfit after outfit was tried on, [Name] letting Magne have most of the spotlight, despite the taller woman cooing and fussing over the outfits her friend also tried on. However, they seemed to notice Magne had lost the confidence she carried when the two of them were picking out the clothes earlier, seemingly nitpicking every little detail that pertained to her body.

“It’s a little too small.” Or “My arms are a bit too thick for this shirt, don’t you think?” Or “This dress would look better if I had tits…”

“Magne,” [Name] spoke up when the red-head changed back to her street clothes, exiting the dressing room with a dejected expression and a pile of “rejected” clothes in her hands. “You know clothes are supposed to make you feel pleased, not others, right?”

An embarrassed blush crosses the woman’s cheeks when she realizes her sour mood had been that obvious. She pouts a bit and turns her face away. “I know, but-“

“And you know your friends adore you no matter what you look like, right?” [Name] gently cuts her off, reaching a hand up to her shoulder comfortingly, glad that the fitting hall was empty so the two could have a heartfelt moment. “You shouldn’t have to force yourself to be appealing to the very people who want to see you in Tarturus. The only outfit they want to see you in is an ugly orange jumpsuit that totally wouldn’t bring out your eyes.”

Taking Magne’s short bark of laughter as a good sign, [Name] continued their reassurances.

“You’re a beautiful woman, no matter what you do with your appearance, no matter what cloth covers your body. No one else’s opinion matters,” they pull down their mask to give her a soft smile. “I love you, Magne, y’know that?”

Magne’s head shoots up to look over at them, the blush on her cheeks growing redder at the confession. “Wait- you mean… as like, more than…?” She stutters out, unable to form a proper question through her shock.

[Name]’s smile turns into a lopsided grin, their own blush rising to their cheeks a bit. “More than a friend? Yeah, exactly that. This isn’t how I wanted to confess, but I felt like… you needed to know, now more than ever, that I’ve always saw you as the most gorgeous and confident person in the world.”

In an instant Magne had them scooped into her strong arms in a bear hug, the red-head burrowing her face into [Name]’s neck as she lifts them from the ground.

“Ohh, bestie, I love you too! So, so, so much!”

[narangmedical]

The LC-DCP Safety Plate 3.5 is indicated for the fixation of fractures in the clavicle, scapula, olecranon, humerus, radius, ulna, pelvis, distal tibia, and fibula, particularly in osteopenic bone in adult patients ... https://www.orthopaedic-implants.com/small-fragment-locking/safety-locking-implants/plates/small-dynamic-compression-safety-locking-plate.php

[femmefeedist]

That Gretel and the witch ask gave me an idea:

What if you take that RP scenario, but your gf gets to stuff you first. I mean, she was just captured by a scary (but strangely cute) little witch after all, so it stands to reason she'd try to plot a clever escape, right?

So, she plays into your seductive sweetness, something about staying in your care, getting delightfully plump on delicious treats till she's too heavy to leave, "delicious enough to eat". All too eager to agree just for the hopes of catching you off-guard, but a deal nonetheless. You grin with satisfaction and just as you turn your back to start piling home-baked pastries onto a plate, she makes her move, pushing you onto the nearby chair, planting herself on your lap, and shoving a pastry into your surprised mouth before you can even utter a grievance

You try to push her off you, but between the weight of her pleasantly chubby figure pressing down on you and the constant flow of delicious treats passing through your lips and dancing on your taste buds, you find it more than a little difficult to resist. The curse of being a good cook, right? It's not long before you resign yourself to the situation, getting lost in a haze of chewing, swallowing, and groaning as you feel your own pudgy potbelly begin to bloat outwards against the snug confines of your dress

By the time she finally stops cramming sweets down your throat, you feel like you're ready to pop, you look like it too. Your belly having ballooned into what can only be described as an overstuffed gut, so distended and swollen that it's completely filled the distance between your two midsections. It may have only been a few inches, but it might as well be a few feet with how unbelievably full she's stuffed you. You realize your belly has grown so large that you can actually feel it brushing against hers as she begins to shift on top of you. If you weren't so deliriously full, you might've remembered to blush, but the thought is quickly tossed aside as she rises to her feet and turns towards the door

With what little sense you still have, you grab her wrist, her hastiness surprisingly being enough to drag you off the chair and send you both tumbling to the floor. You conveniently land right on top of her, groaning heavily from the impact's effect on your poor, bloated gut, but quickly realizing your turn of luck after taking a moment to regain your bearings. She's beneath you now, trapped firmly under your newfound girth, a prison of her own making. Even her arms wound up perfectly wedged between the softness of her sides and your thighs, you can't help but smirk and laugh to yourself as she cutely squirms and wiggles in a vain attempt to free herself. You probably weight just as much as she does now...don't you?

You reach up towards the table and snag another plate, shoving an particularly large pastry right between her lips, eliciting a small whimper as she meets your eyes. You lean in closer, not even trying to hide your sultry smugness, "you know, I was going to play nice, but...since you decided to do this..." you give your gut a small smack, pausing slightly to stifle a groan, "I think it's only fair that I feed you twice as much as I just ate. I mean, you wouldn't go back on our little deal now, would you?" Despite the uncertainty in her eyes, you can't help but notice a small blush betraying them and spreading across her puffed-up, treat-filled cheeks

You lean in closer still, enough that you can feel the resistance of your taut gut compressing against her plump mound of dough. You grab another pastry, press it gently against her lips and stop, her eyes rapidly shifting between your hungry gaze and the inevitability of her next bite. You can only imagine the flurry of thoughts racing through her pretty little head before she locks eyes again. Her head bobs slightly as you hear an audible 'gulp', followed immediately by a hungry gasp that allows you to press the pending pastry firmly between her open lips, her rosy cheeks deepening a few shades at your next words...

"Good girl~"

---

Not sure what your budget is for in-home feeding sessions, but uh, shouldn't be more than a few bucks for all the necessary set dressing, right? If you don't end up making it a reality, hopefully you both at least enjoyed the read and end up a little fatter from it in some way, lmao

The entire time I read this all I wanted to do was go fuck my girlfriend so I may or may not have even finished reading this before I got incredibly horny for her 🥵 Even if I'm not personally into this specific type of roleplay I WILL dress up all witchy and feed her - we've already decided 🔥

[lamialamia]

DID YOU SAY SLEDGEFU PACIFIC RIM AU??? If you want to talk about any of it, please spill. I’d love to hear it

Okay so, thanks for asking. And this baby was not planned at all. I started to write this PacRim AU in my note app because I have a vision, Sledge being the "I'm gonna be the man this country need!" guy and Snafu being the "I hate them kaijus they ruin everything and also I need a job!" guy and they manage to get into the program.

And they aren't hanging out in the same circle of friends at all, so you have Snafu glaring across the training field at Sledge's red hair like it personally offense him.

I need to do more PacRim lore research but for now they got matched up through a computer program that gathers datas from all the training/exams/personality tests that the USMC made them do. Sledge and Snafu start the drifting training with a lot of difficulties and wrestling with their growing attraction ehehehe. Snafu is so pissed about it. His friends are very tired ;) ;)

And then, the fic has Ack-Ack being the dad they all need, with a side of Dunkin' Donuts addiction (hcs incorporated from one of my mutuals whose url escape me rn >"<) And then, you have sledge and snafu's frustrated sparring sessions (as we see from the movie, such a prerequisite in PacRim AU imo)

And then, it probably going to end with an epic kaiju battle.

Have this snippet

They didn't use a Jeager for DC test runs, instead, it was one of those lame simulation boxes that looked more like a cell for two. Gunney strapped Snafu in while he recited the steps to complete locking into the grid, then it was Sledge's turn, his red hair compressed into the bowl they called a helmet, his accent echoed off the plasticized, padded walls. The last image of him before the visor shut Snafuout was of determination: Sledge's brown eyes stared straight ahead, nostrils blared, and mouth relaxed.

When darkness of the helmet engulfed the world, Gunney's voice was distorted, scratchier than forks on a plate. It rhymed with the drum-like beating of Snafu's heart, "Soldier, what's the eject command?"

Snafu didn't stumble, neither did Sledge as they recited together, "Swing both fists forward while pulling knees up to do a roll." Gunney grunted again. It meant approval this time.

This was ten times worse than being strapped in the dentist's chair, Snafu thought. His back was crushed into the leather T-shape backrest. The helmet fanned his breathed back on his skin; a faint sterile smell accompanied it, like meat hibernated too long in cold storage. His arms and body were encased in wires -- the thought of coiling chains and him a sacrificial lamb unceremoniously popped his head. Ack-ack's voice rumbled in his ears, reciting the steps. Snafu breathed in. Out. He sweated all over; the collar of the DC suit stuck to his neck like someone had pour honey over it. He hated the light beaming into his closed eyelids, he wanted to bare his canines and stretch his claws and bit and maim everything. Suddenly, it vibrated and took off. Snafu was lifted up along. His body shook, teeth clattering.

Then he was there.

[jasfhercallejo]

Helm is an intimate, 24-seat restaurant is an expression of Chef Josh Boutwood’s life experiences and culinary training. Designed with a minimalist eye in palettes of black, copper, and grey. Helm’s dining experience centers Josh’s multi-course tasting menu and the one-on- one interaction between the kitchen and the guest.

At Helm, dining becomes theater, an interactive form of culinary performance art.

Our 10-course meal took inspiration from Magellan's voyage to the Philippines. It was a journey that took 1080 days compressed by Boutwood in just two delicious hours over ten mouthwatering bites. In a nutshell, it was an international menu, with each dish composed of flavours and ingredients from a country Magellan visited sewn altogether by the ingenuity of the talented chef.

Ember Manila is a charcoal grill specialty restaurant by Chef Josh Boutwood. Contrary to chef's other concept restaurants where the interior is somewhat masculine, Ember has done the opposite without deviating from its core element: no-frills, uncomplicated, and warm.

This restaurant in Makati has a modern space-like yet chic style, enough to make you feel at home and welcome. The cozy seats along the curved bar allow diners to witness the magic happening in the open kitchen. It also has a curated one-page menu categorized into small plates like tapas, large plates like family sharing dishes, side plates, and sweets to complete the ensemble. Chef Josh loves biodynamic and natural wines which you can order to pair with your meal.

We did not miss the chance to try chef's signature dish, the charcoal-grilled steak, and we loved it for the smoky char flavor and the locked in juiciness of the meat. 

Last but not the least, our 3rd Chef Josh Bautwood's restaurant here in Metro Manila, is Test Kitchen in Rockwell. Here, we celebrated my boyfriend's birthday with his mom (read: naks part of the family lol) and had an intimate dinner for three. We've only fancied trying fine dining tasting menus recently, and we learned that these kind of food require diner to slow down and savor the details; they took the time and only ask the same of you (key takeaway from Mark Mylod's The Menu, if you ask me haha)

Downstairs is where all the action is—get your minds out of the gutter—and where you can really see the kitchen’s cogs turning. But upstairs is where true magic takes place, especially if you’re a real nerd about food. The second floor is where they age the meats, ferment the ingredients and store the spices. This is where you can geek out on the fermented fruits and ingredients, house-made garum (fish sauce) and special spices.

We heard that Chef is opening a new restaurant named "The Dandy Lion" in Ayala Triangle Garden, and we are more than excited to try it once it opens its doors to the public.

[tabbasum62]

Exploring Automatic Bollards in Bangladesh: Features, Prices, and Benefits

In an era where urban spaces are becoming more congested and security concerns are growing, automatic bollards have emerged as a practical and effective solution for controlling vehicle access and ensuring safety in high-traffic areas. Automatic bollards are commonly used in commercial buildings, public spaces, parking areas, government facilities, and even residential complexes to restrict or allow vehicle access based on specific criteria.

In Bangladesh, the demand for automatic bollards has increased as urban planners, property owners, and businesses recognize the value of this technology in maintaining order and enhancing security. In this guide, we will explore the features, types, pricing, and benefits of automatic bollards in Bangladesh.

What are Automatic Bollards?

Automatic bollards are retractable, cylindrical barriers that rise from the ground to block or allow vehicle passage. Unlike traditional fixed bollards, automatic bollards can be operated remotely or through control systems, allowing flexibility in access control. These systems are commonly used to control traffic, protect pedestrians, or prevent unauthorized vehicles from entering restricted areas.

Automatic bollards are typically made from durable materials like stainless steel or reinforced concrete, making them resilient to weather conditions and impact. They can be integrated with access control systems such as RFID cards, remote controls, keypads, or even mobile apps for added convenience.

Types of Automatic Bollards

Hydraulic Automatic BollardsHydraulic automatic bollards use hydraulic systems to raise and lower the bollard. These bollards are known for their robustness and are ideal for high-security environments like government buildings, embassies, or military installations. The hydraulic system ensures smooth and reliable operation, even under heavy use.

Pneumatic Automatic BollardsPneumatic bollards operate using air pressure to raise and lower the bollard. These bollards are energy-efficient and provide quick response times, making them suitable for busy areas such as shopping malls, stadiums, and office complexes. The pneumatic system requires compressed air, which can make the installation slightly more complex compared to hydraulic systems.

Electric Automatic BollardsElectric bollards rely on electrical motors to operate the raising and lowering mechanism. These bollards are relatively simpler to install and are commonly used in parking areas, residential complexes, and commercial buildings where the need for high-impact resistance is lower than in military or government installations.

Removable or Manual BollardsWhile not fully automatic, removable bollards offer a semi-automatic solution for areas where security levels may change. These bollards can be manually lifted and locked into place when needed, providing a flexible but less automated option for low-traffic areas.

Key Features of Automatic Bollards

Durability and StrengthAutomatic bollards are built to withstand high-impact forces. They are designed to stop vehicles from entering restricted areas, making them an essential security feature in places vulnerable to unauthorized access or terrorist threats. Bollards made from materials like steel, aluminum, or concrete can endure extreme weather conditions and heavy vehicle impact.

Access Control IntegrationAutomatic bollards can be integrated with advanced access control systems such as keycards, RFID, biometric scanners, and even license plate recognition technology. This allows for seamless control over who can enter restricted areas, improving both security and efficiency.

Safety FeaturesMany automatic bollards come equipped with safety features to prevent accidents or damage. For example, sensors can detect when a vehicle or pedestrian is near the bollard, stopping it from rising or lowering unexpectedly. Additionally, emergency overrides can be implemented, allowing first responders or security personnel to lower the bollards in case of an emergency.

Customization and Aesthetic AppealAutomatic bollards are available in various designs and finishes to match the aesthetic of their surroundings. In urban areas or commercial centers, bollards can be customized to blend in with the architectural style while still providing strong security.

Factors Influencing the Price of Automatic Bollards in Bangladesh

Type of BollardThe type of bollard—whether hydraulic, pneumatic, or electric—affects the overall cost. Hydraulic bollards tend to be more expensive due to their complex system and high durability. Pneumatic and electric bollards, while still robust, may offer cost savings depending on the specific requirements of the installation site.

Material and Build QualityBollards made from high-strength materials like stainless steel or reinforced concrete will cost more than those made from lighter or less durable materials. However, investing in high-quality bollards is essential for areas requiring strong security measures.

Installation and Setup CostsThe complexity of installation also plays a role in determining the price. Bollards that require integration with underground systems, access control mechanisms, or electricity supply will have higher installation costs. For large-scale installations, professional expertise is required, which can add to the overall price.

Technology IntegrationIf the bollards need to be integrated with advanced security systems like RFID, biometrics, or automatic license plate recognition, the price will increase. More sophisticated systems require specialized software and hardware, which can raise the overall investment.

Brand and WarrantyReputable brands that offer high-quality products with extended warranties may have higher prices. However, they ensure reliability, durability, and excellent after-sales support, which can be crucial for long-term performance.

Price Range of Automatic Bollards in Bangladesh

The price of automatic bollards in Bangladesh can vary significantly based on the factors mentioned above. Below is an approximate price range for different types of bollards:

Hydraulic Automatic Bollards: BDT 150,000 to BDT 400,000 per unit

Pneumatic Automatic Bollards: BDT 100,000 to BDT 300,000 per unit

Electric Automatic Bollards: BDT 80,000 to BDT 200,000 per unit

Removable or Manual Bollards: BDT 30,000 to BDT 70,000 per unit

It’s important to note that installation costs, which can vary based on site conditions and customization requirements, may add to the overall expense.

Benefits of Installing Automatic Bollards

Enhanced SecurityAutomatic bollards provide a strong barrier against unauthorized vehicles, making them an ideal solution for high-security areas like government buildings, banks, and public venues. They are capable of stopping high-speed vehicles and preventing potential threats.

Traffic ControlIn busy urban areas, automatic bollards help regulate vehicle access, ensuring that only authorized vehicles can enter restricted zones such as pedestrian streets, parking areas, or emergency routes.

Aesthetic AppealBollards can be customized to blend seamlessly with the surrounding environment, adding to the visual appeal of public spaces while providing critical security functions.

ConvenienceAutomated systems allow for hands-free operation, making it easy for authorized personnel to control access without manual intervention. This improves efficiency, especially in high-traffic areas.

FlexibilityAutomatic bollards offer the flexibility to control access based on time, specific vehicle types, or emergency situations, providing a dynamic solution for security and traffic management.

Conclusion

Automatic bollards are an excellent investment for ensuring security, regulating vehicle access, and enhancing the aesthetics of urban and commercial spaces in Bangladesh. With various types, features, and price points available, they cater to different security needs and budgets. By understanding the factors that influence the cost and benefits of these systems, you can make an informed decision when selecting automatic bollards for your property or project.