#easy maneuverability

[juliabush2450]

Exploring the World of Small Electric Bikes: DYU's Innovations

The e-bike industry is booming, and one brand that stands out is DYU. Known for their commitment to quality and innovation, DYU offers a range of small electric bikes that are perfect for urban commuting and leisure rides. These bikes are designed to be lightweight and easy to maneuver, making them ideal for navigating busy city streets.

With advanced features like long-lasting batteries and comfortable seating, DYU's small electric bikes provide an enjoyable riding experience. Whether you're a seasoned cyclist or a beginner, you'll appreciate the convenience and efficiency of these e-bikes.

Additionally, DYU's focus on sustainability aligns with the growing trend of eco-friendly transportation. By choosing a small electric bike from DYU, you're not only making a smart choice for your commute but also contributing to a greener planet.

Join the revolution of smart transportation and experience the joy of riding a DYU small electric bike today!

[alphamedicalsupply]

Choosing the right healthcare supplies suitable for our needs is as important as taking our medications as prescribed and visiting the doctor regularly. It can impact our comfort and overall quality of life.

[jeepclinic-blog]

"Find the ideal election campaign vehicle at Jeep Clinic! Our modified vehicles offer easy maneuverability and reliability. Explore our range now!"

Get the perfect election campaign vehicle at jeep clinic! Our modified vehicles feature easy maneuverability, vibrant party-colored exteriors, and comfortable seating options. Check out our website's gallery page to find the ideal vehicle for your campaig

Get the perfect election campaign vehicle at jeep clinic! Our modified vehicles feature easy maneuverability, vibrant party-colored exteriors, and comfortable seating options. Check out our website’s gallery page to find the ideal vehicle for your campaign in Telangana Andhra.

[five-thousand-loaves-of-bread]

not all wheelchair users use manual wheelchair

some wheelchair users use giant group 3 CRT power chair that weigh 300lb+ / 136kg+ n cannot collapse or folded must be transported by big vehicle with wheelchair lift or ramp. that wide & bulky n can’t squeeze through tight space.

but also. not all manual wheelchair user use custom ultra light active wheelchair with low backrests, that really light, that easily maneuverable, that narrow n easy fit through tight space with tight turning radius, that can be collapse n put into small car trunk easily conveniently

some wheelchair users use hospital or off-the-rack wheelchair that really hard to use

some wheelchair users fat n so their wheelchair need be wide

some manual wheelchair users use manual tilt in space wheelchair

some manual wheelchair users use custom wheelchair, often even with ultra light frame, but their seating positioning needs make custom wheelchair bulky & big & heavy. over 50 lb / 22kg. some even approach 100 lb / 45 kg (frame for manual tilt in space can be heavyyyyy). my wheelchair like this n it meet (some of) my needs but it inconvenient as hell n absolutely not light n airy. n wish people like. remember we exist

[dipnots]

Top 10 Best City Bikes for Urban Commuting and Leisure Riding

City biking is a great way to stay active, reduce pollution, and save money on transportation. With so many options available, it can be difficult to choose the best city bike for your needs. In this article, we will take a look at the top 10 best city bikes on the market today. 1- Trek Verve 3: This hybrid bike is perfect for city riding, with a lightweight aluminum frame and a comfortable…

[rockpapertheodore]

Stop giving your fantasy heroes swords challenge

Swords are for dipshits with more dollars than sense, real chad warriors have spears and axes

Spears: probably the oldest weapon humans ever developed that took more effort than just picking up a rock or swinging a branch as a club. Spears are the most venerated and effective weapon in history, used by every culture across the world with very little - if any! - exception. Medium-to-long reach means wider defensive area, ability to change hand position on shaft means you can adjust tip distance for opponents closer or farther away. Fast, maneuverable, throwable; reach for keeping people outside your personal bubble and can be used to just bludgeon people because a wooden pole bonks just as good as another wooden pole without the stabby bit; various styles of tips and blades that can be used to slash (not as effective but still very possible because blood drawn is blood spilled), more room for cool decorations as well as can be used to bear a banner or coat of arms. She does it all and she did it first. (They also twirl real cool)

Axes: PROBABLY THE SECOND OLDEST WEAPON DESIGN MORE ADVANCED THAN JUST PICKING UP A ROCK. Brutal, practical, utilitarian, the axe is excellent for that sweet sweet CHOP. The full force of your swing being focused into an area less than a millimeter wide and several inches long can cause SO MUCH DAMAGE, and if it's dulling mid-fight you still have a brutal tool that will break bone as indiscriminately as any other hunk of metal tied to a stick. They can be small and maneuverable, used with a shield or paired with another axe. They are the most effective way to just hack at an opponent's own shield, and - due to the fact that axes tend to have a much wider, shallower blade than, say, swords - they aren't as affected by the blunt force (with regards to dulling/damaging the actual edge of the blade) or as prone to getting stuck in the wood of the shield. Combat/fighting/war axes are definitely designed and sharpened differently from their wood-chopping brethren with regards to balance and the depth of the blade, but the guiding principle is the same. Chop chop chop chop chop.

Polearms: they're spearses. They're axes. They're both and they're neither. Pikes, glaives, halberds, bardiches, guisarmes, guandao, naginata, scythes, tridents, anything we took a blade or pointy metal and a long pole and ductaped together.

Swords are cool! They can be beautiful! However, they are race horses being used to work the fields: too expensive to maintain, not optimal for the purpose they're being used for, and too easy to irrepably damage if misused. Your opponents are wearing armor? You better hope you have a sword maneuverable enough to work into its weak points, because you're not hacking through that before you find yourself walking through golden fields of wheat. You only have one hand on your sword? Better hope somebody doesn't smack that long lever in your hands in such a way that it just gets knocked from your grasp.

This is the same post as every other Spears and Axes in Fantasy/Fiction post in existence, but I wrote this one and its mine amd im in a mood this morning apparently

[tubbytarchia]

Something something secret identity dragonshifter HotGuy and CuteGuy (thank you for the comm!) Some thoughts under cut

Ok they don't have to be secret identity (it's just too easy to make it that when they're alternative forms look completely different) but some form of dragon shenanigans? They're dragons now so they get slay powers by default but I wanted to give Scar something a little more, so he gets mechanical wing-like limbs that benefit him more than encumber him due to him having a very strong and sturdy build, and not needing to worry about flight (whereas eg Grian is very lightweight to be able to fly well and is better off without additions)

I REALLY wanted some way to replicate anything close to the Hotguy bow so there you go:

The mechanical limbs have full rotation etc so Scar can fuck around with them however he wishes

Grian can use his feathers as projectiles, comparable to bullets in strength with the speed at which he can hurl them, plus just crazy maneuverability and stuff I guess!!

And what exactly is dragon magic? Plot convenience that's what

[weirdmarioenemies]

Name: Mino

Debut: Tetris

Tetris is all about blocks! You know that! Did you know that those blocks are called Tetriminos? Maybe you did! Geometrically, they are tetrominoes, shapes formed from four squares connected at the edges. "Tetrimino" is the official spelling of the ones used in Tetris specifically, which is a little confusing, but it's ok. Don't worry about it unless you are making your own game about tetrominoes! If you do that, be careful.

But what about the little blocks that make up the Tetrimino? These are geometrically called monominoes, but in Tetris, they are simply Minos! Humble little things. The game is named after Four, so what place does a measly One have?

If you ask me, they have all the place, because they are all over the place! There are no Tetriminos without Minos. Together, Minos are powerful, some of the most iconic and recognizable shape clusters in the world! Even in the form of a plush, The Tetris Company almost ALWAYS ensures that the individual Minos are visible. It is a part of the Tetriminos' designs at this point! The only exception I can think of is in situations unable to use their distinct colors, where other design factors are used to distinguish each. In this case, all but the I Tetrimino have their Minos visible, while I is just a solid color. Come on now, I. The most universally beloved Tetrimino, and you can't show some appreciation for the little guys who made you who you are? Sheesh!

While yes, Minos are a bit overlooked, they do indeed get the spotlight every once in a while! In game modes with items, you can expect that there will be one that turns all of your pieces into Minos, allowing you to instantly fill in gaps wherever you like. They are not particularly powerful, only able to clear one line at a time, but they ARE very convenient and easy to use!

Tetris Friends, my dearly beloved and departed Tetris Friends, uses Minos as the base for most of its avatars! I have already talked about these specifically, but I just want to point out these VERY default ones, each a piece of one of the classic Tetriminos, based on color... until the end, where we get what appears to be a Domesticated Mammal Mino! What are the implications of this? Have members of an intelligent species selectively bred the most docile of Minos together? Do Minos reproduce? Am I way off the mark, and is this Mino actually made of cookies and cream ice cream?

Finally, the reason I've been thinking of Minos in the first place! Here is a photo of the Tetris board game, with a single gray square in the Matrix. That's right! A Mino! In my opinion, this game is the most special Minos have ever felt. In this version, Tetriminos are dropped straight down into columns in the Matrix, and so they aren't as maneuverable as virtual ones. They can't be rotated while falling, and can't be slid into place to fill in any little notches.

This is where Minos come in! They are a sort of compensation for the lack of extra control, and can be placed to fill in extra space before dropping a Tetrimino. This is especially useful if you start with a Z or S block, since in this game, dropping one on a flat surface would leave a space no matter what! With a Mino, you can make a nice little ledge for your block to land neatly on.

This game's use of Minos really stood out to me! They're a major gameplay mechanic, they are explicitly named in the instruction manual, and, most importantly, they get their own PIECES. Physical, officially licensed, single Mino objects! They even get their very own color! A humble gray, not flashy like the rest, but distinct among all the others, and practical. A gray not to indicate a lack of interesting qualities, but instead, great potential!

There is no "official art" for Mino, so I just made the post's top image by editing some official Tetrimino art. Also, I have distinct memory of SOME official Tetris game, possibly Tetris Friends, referring to them as Tetrimonos. Does anyone else remember this? Please tell me if you do!

With that, we have reached the end of this post. But this is not the end of my fascination with Minos. In a way, it's only the beginning. In my Mino research, I have discovered some truly incredible things. Look forward to reading about them next week in Minos post part 2!

[tofu83]

What men bred for.

2. Guards

The alien masters never imagined that there are such versatile and easy-to-tame highly intelligent animals in the universe. Well, compared to the masters, the people on earth are actually inferior in intelligence.

The masters' scientists originally only developed breeds for military use, carefully selecting suitable genes so that the humans bred would be strong, aggressive, but united and obedient male individuals.

However, with military success, public opinion began to demand the development of breeds that could also be used by civilians, so breeds that were smaller, more independent, but still highly obedient to their owners were developed. They were also implanted with nanobots when they were young adults, so that their bodies could better meet the needs of their owners. At the same time, control helmets are also installed. Of course, they absolutely obey their owners, but they still need consciousness control to prevent them from attacking each other.

They are kept by many owners as pets and guards, just like humans kept dogs in the past. They take pride in pleasing and being appreciated by their owners, who can make them very excited and proud just by touching their bodies. If they perform outstandingly, such as helping their master fight off robbers or thieves, or assisting in hunting, completing various daily tasks, etc., their master will upgrade their bodies as a more glorious reward.

Master’s scientists have also discovered that when the physical parts of human males of this breed are covered in tight rubber and artificial leather, they will be extremely excited and even fall into a euphoric state, which is only seen during the mating period of primitive species.

Scientists are still unable to explain the exact reason why male humans have physiological reactions to rubber and leather, but they have been widely used commercially to improve the maneuverability and work performance of human guards.

In addition, a new type of guards that first covers the whole male body in a rubber bodysuit , then strengthens the body with nanotechnology, and finally covers it with armor has been put into production. The consciousness of these guards is extremely pleasurable, and their bodies are controlled like puppets by microcomputers implanted in the back of their necks. They will soon be assigned to law enforcement agencies everywhere to protect, serve, and obey forever.

[beneathsilverstars]

been thinking about headcanons for how sadnesses work. they’re made out of solid craft, which can have a variety of physical properties, but is generally grouped into five categories of material. a sadness will be composed of several if not all of these materials, but each craft type has a material it tends towards a greater proportion of. this contributes to its type advantage and disadvantage.

hard craft - favored by scissors types - sharp but brittle. think bone or glass. it’s pointy and smooth and hard to get a grip on, but when it breaks it cracks and shatters. it tends to act as carapace or skeleton.

semi-hard craft - favored by rock types - strong but somewhat malleable. think metal. it can hit hard and it’s difficult to even scratch, but it’s easier to bend out of shape, and with enough bending you can break it. it tends to act as skeleton or limbs.

semi-soft craft - favored by paper types - flexible but soft. think rubber or fabric. it’s very maneuverable and can bend with a force and then back into place, but it’s easy to cut into. it tends to act as limbs or muscle.

soft craft - stretchy but weak. think dough. it’s easy to slice or pull or squish, but it bounces right back unless you tear it off entirely. it tends to act as muscle or skin.

liquid craft - adaptable but flimsy. think slime or honey. it’s hard to truly alter because it flows and reforms easily, but it can’t affect anything else very much either. it tends to act as clothes, hair, or tears.

a person can use their innate craft energy to absorb some of the impact of an attack, and the way it does so reflects their craft type. craft attacks and defenses aren’t made of a solid material the same way sadnesses are; they seem more like light or gas or electricity. but, they take on properties of solid matter when you interact with them, sort of like how oobleck seems liquid but then acts solid when you smack it. alternatively, craft can be channeled through a physical object and amplify its properties instead.

[thewertsearch]

....well, I thought this fight was a lock in Vriska's favor, but Gamzee is the mother of all wildcards. He could be hiding anything in that Jokerkind Abstratus, and we still haven't seen the power that took out the Black King.

I do think Vriska has the maneuverability to avoid most of his weapons, but you don't know what this motherfucker is going to pull out. His mere presence is setting me on edge a little.

If only my hoard were as 8ottomless as his desire to disappoint me. He is set on cowardice, deferring to others to settle his score. Doesn't he remem8er what he's confided? It would 8e easy to give the evidence to Her Imperious Condescension, and he would 8e killed quickly for his unthinka8le presumption. He's taken a gr8 risk har8oring red am8itions for an empress who will never even know his name.

Eridan's ancestor has a thing for the Empress, which is a clear allusion to his one-sided crush on Feferi. I'd be surprised if any troll from Mindfang's story wasn't one of the twelve Ancestors, so I'm pretty sure Her Condescension is Grandma Peixes.

And I recognize that name.

Now - is it just a title, or was this literally the same Condescension?

I'm inclined to assume the former, because the modern Empress doesn't share Feferi's blood color. Still, the idea of a troll ancestor sticking around to personally witness the apocalypse they foresaw is a pretty cool idea.

Here's proto-Gamzee, clearly embodying the violent madness that his descendant has recently embraced. This juggalo cult has clearly been a problem on Alternia for a long time.

There's blood behind him that matches Karkat's non-mutated position on the hemospectrum - and also, I think, blood of Eridan's caste. This guy doesn't discriminate. He's perfectly comfortable with slaughtering his 'betters', and I'm sure Gamzee's just itching to repeat this history today.

I've learned Dualscar has reported to the Grand High8lood all the intelligence he has on me and my fleet.

Gamzee's ancestor is the Grand Highblood. It sounds like he's at the very top of the terrestrial hemospectrum, outranking even other members of his caste.

Equius did say that Gamzee had the highest terrestrial blood on Alternia. Zahhak's a hemospectrum expert, so maybe he's being entirely literal. Maybe Gamzee has inherited his ancestor's title, and is literally the Grand Highblood of Alternia - the highest purpleblood of all.

If he does have a formal role, he was obviously shirking his duties, if he was even aware of them in the first place. His hive certainly wasn't especially regal...

I wonder, though... did this ancestor leave any heirlooms for his successor? How much does Gamzee really know about his birthright?

I would have enjoyed witnessing the entertainment he prepared to please the High8lood. His sense of humor was dreadful. It would have 8een a true miracle if he survived the appointment. Funny, I always imagined a grander entry in my journal for your demise, Dualscar. 8ut I should have realized you would die as you lived. A joke.

L

[respect-the-locals]

🐠 Daily Fish Fact: 🐠

The Snowflake Moray Eel, along with other species of morays, have pharyngeal jaws, which are a second set of jaws located in the throat or pharynx. This species is an unconfirmed hermaphrodite, but there have been records that they are able to change sex during their lifetime. Snowflake morays are also scale-less, secreting a mucus over their skin that allows for easy maneuverability in and around holes in their environment.

[tailschannel]

Balance and difficulty adjustments featured in latest patch for Sonic Frontiers 3rd post-launch DLC

The third and final post-launch downloadable content update for Sonic Frontiers has received a significant patch late Wednesday.

Released to all major platforms, version 1.41 of Frontiers included several bug fixes, balancing patches, and movement improvements for the last content update of 2023, "The Final Horizon."

Here are the official patch notes, courtesy of SEGA of Japan:

Made Balance Adjustments to Easy Mode

Trial Towers: New level designs have been added.

Towers of the Master: The default difficulty and Sonic's attack level have been adjusted.

Master King Koco's Trial: Your maximum Ring capacity and the health of each Titan have been adjusted.

Made changes to some of the controls for Amy, Knuckles and Tails

The parry window for perfect parries was adjusted to be more forgiving. (The window will be extended even further when playing on Easy.)

Knuckles' maneuverability during gliding has significantly increased.

Adjusted the stats of some special moves for Amy, Knuckles, and Tails after leveling them up

The attack and defense of certain special moves for Amy, Knuckles, and Tails after they level up have been increased.

Made it Easier to Retry After a Game Over

The pink panels in the Trial Towers will respawn after a certain amount of time has passed and you are a certain distance away.

If you make a mistake before a Cyber Space checkpoint and you have to restart from the beginning, the timer will now reset so you don't need to manually restart. (Excluding Cyber Space Challenge)

Various bug fixes, including the issue where audio would not play during sub-events, have also been addressed.

[random-thot-generator]

Don’t Leave Me Hangin’

MANDO x FEM READER

Summary: Reader gets stuck aloft in one of the Kom’rik’s cargo nets and has to call out to Mando for help. Filthy Mando smut ensues.

Warnings: explicit language, swearing, explicit sexual content, porn without plot, well, maybe a tiny little hint of plot, oral- f receiving, PiV, squirting, cum play(?), it’s messy- nuff said, Kom’rik sex, improper use of a cargo net, reader is an idiot who should think things through, Mando is an opportunist, no use of Y/N, maybe? bondage - Mando doesn’t help her out of the net like- immediately, but reader ain’t complainin’

(N/A: The brain fog has FINALLY lifted, and I wanted to write about my most recent random filthy thot. This is the result. It’s a long-ish, smutty one shot. Reader & Mando are in a situationship - friends-with-benefits type deal. I’m picturing like a live-in nanny/housekeeper kind of thing, but I don’t think I ever specified. This is post-season 3, and Mando’s living his best life on Nevarro. He and reader are in a Kom’rik, because I need room for my smut to flourish, and I didn’t want to resurrect the poor old Razor Crest from the ashes. If I missed any tags, let me know. And I hope you enjoy.)

Word Count: 4280

You really should have thought this through better.

That was your first thought after the cargo net stopped swinging, and you regained a modicum of composure. You winced at the sound of the net’s straps creaking under the strain as you tried to shift your weight and then froze. You remained completely motionless, afraid to even breathe, for several more moments.

“Shit...” you whispered in a quaking voice, peering down at the floor of the cargo hold several meters below you. You then glanced up at the winch mechanism above your head, praying it held. How in the hell were you going to get yourself out of this?

It had seemed like such a good plan at the time. You had just stepped out of the Kom’rik’s small ‘fresher, having showered and changed into your sleep shirt before bed, when you’d felt the ship drop out of hyperspace with a small lurch. You heard something clatter in the cargo hold below and blew out a tired sigh, knowing it was probably nothing but also knowing you wouldn’t be able to rest until you checked it out.

Grumbling under your breath, you had climbed down into the hold. Only the emergency lights were on, the ceiling and corners hidden in shadow, but you spotted something lying near a tier of shelves attached to the hull’s interior wall. It was one of the kid’s favorite cookies, the teal ones with the creme filling. Peering up into the gloom, you spied an opened foil sleeve of cookies perched on the edge of the highest shelf.

“How the hell did he even get up there?” you said aloud, shaking your head. Jedi training aside, the kid was far too much like his dad, a little risk-taker. You heaved a sigh, with no small amount of exasperation. 

Stars only knew what else he had left up there. Come to think of it, you had given him your datapad earlier to watch cartoons and hadn’t seen it since. Sighing in frustration, you began looking for a way to reach the top shelf. The propulsor lift was still charging, so that was a no-go, and you didn’t see a ladder of any sort that wasn’t attached to the ship already.

And then you had spied the cargo net.

It was dangling by its hooks from a mechanized winch and pulley system attached to the ceiling. It was used to keep extra containers suspended above the floor to free up space, its track running the entire circuit of the area for maneuverability and convenience. Designed to hold several hundred kilograms, you were certain it could support your own weight. You could use it to lift yourself up to the shelf, retrieve whatever was up there and then lower yourself back to the ground. Easy peasy, jogan squeezy.

Detaching the control pad for the winch from the wall, you climbed inside the net, lacing an arm through the holes for a better grip, and then planted your bare feet on the cross sections of the heavy straps. It was a bit shaky at first, but once you gained your balance, you quickly ascended until you were at eye level with the top shelf. Tucking the control pad under your chin, you reached up to feel your datapad under your fingertips and sniffed in amusement. You’d have to give Grogu a good talking-to in the morning, but for now you at least had your datapad back. Slipping it and the sleeve of cookies off the shelf, you shuffled the objects around, your grip on the net slackening.

It was then that the Kom’rik made another jump into hyperspace, making the ship jolt with the transition. You shrieked when the net began to swing wildly, feet slipping out from under you as you let go of everything in your hands to hang on for dear life. Panting for breath, heart thundering in your chest, you clung like a monkey-lizard to the straps and prayed the net didn’t break.

So, there you were, hanging above the hold like a piece over-ripe fruit, arms and legs entangled in the net with no way down, because, of course, you had dropped the winch’s control pad when you dropped everything else. You could see it lying on the floor below you, right next to the broken casing of your datapad.

“Shit!” you repeated, leaning your forehead against the straps and huffing out an angry breath. Could this situation get any worse, you wondered. You’d have to yell for Mando to come get you down, which you weren’t looking forward to, but who knew how long it would take before he even came back this way? What if decided to just sleep in the cockpit? Would you end up hanging there all night?

The thought made your awkward position in the net feel even more uncomfortable. Your feet had slipped through the holes, so your legs were now dangling under you, the straps cutting into the tender meat of your thighs. One of your arms was still threaded through the net while the other one was pinned close to your side. You could feel the cold air of the hold settling into your bones and making you shiver, the thin material of the tunic doing little to stave off the chill.

You knew that the longer you hung there, the colder you were going to get, the number your limbs were going to grow. Your feet were already stinging and your teeth chattering. There was no help for it. You had to call for Mando.

“MANDO!!!”

Your voice bounced back at you, making your flinch. Holding your breath, you waited to hear his boots thudding against the metal floor overhead, but nothing. He hadn’t heard you.

“MAANN-DDOO! HEEELP!”

You waited. Still nothing.

Oh, stars, maybe he had fallen asleep in the cockpit. after all. With the door sealed, he would never hear you. Panic began to creep in, shortening your breath as it constricted your lungs.

“MANDO! PLEASE! I’M STUCK IN THE HOLD! MAN-DOO!!!”

“What the hell are you doing?”

You heard his voice coming through the ship’s comm system and could have cried in relief. You’d forgotten the cams located throughout the ship. Stars, he’d probably been watching you this whole time. You were never in danger.

“I... I’m stuck, Mando.”

A gravelly bark echoed in the hold before turning to static. Great. He was laughing at you. “Obviously. Listen, I need to recheck the coordinates in navi and set the autopilot, then I’ll come get you down. Just, uh, hang tight,” he drawled, another garbled sound slipping out of his vocoder.

You bit your tongue to keep from saying something you might regret. You were in no position to taunt or snark back at him right now. “Fine,” you mumbled, and slumped into the net.

It was only a few minutes before the sound of his heavy boots were thudding across the metal floor above you, his footsteps music to your ears. You heard the clang of his armor hitting against the ladder before he slid down into view, feet landing with a solid thump in the hold. He approached at a leisurely pace, seemingly in no hurry, then stopped to stare up at you. His helmet tilted back, black visor glinting in the low light. Planting his hands on his hips, he tipped his head, first to one side and then to the other.

“M-Mando? What’re you doing? Can you get me down now, please?”

Mando hummed, his stance shifting. His arms dropped down to his sides, hands curling into fists. “You must be getting pretty cold, huh?”

You bunched your brows up in consternation. “Um... yeah? It’s fr-freezing down here.”

He nodded slowly, keeping his visor trained on you. “Hmm. Thought so. You’re not wearing anything but my old tunic. It’s not covering much. Is it?”

You quirked a brow at the change in his voice. His smooth baritone had dropped an octave or three, and it had a distinctive husk to it now. His tone was the one he used when the two of you were alone with the lights off and he was taking you apart, dark and sinfully seductive. It made you squirm despite your precarious position, and the net began to slowly sway back and forth. The edge of a strap slid into the crease where your thigh met your hip, and you felt your lower lips part. A low groan issued from his vocoder. Your mouth fell open.

Sweet Maker, your pussy was on full display for him. You hadn’t bothered with underwear after your shower, planning on putting on a clean pair once you got back to your sleeping quarters. Heat surged through your body, both from embarrassment and unexpected arousal.

“Mando...” Your voice sounded so small and breathy in the cavernous space.

“I can see everything, pretty girl,” he told you, taking an unconscious step closer. He was almost directly under you now, peering straight up at your exposed sex. Mortified, you felt the slow trickle of your arousal easing out of your channel. You weren’t dripping, not yet, but the thought of him standing beneath you, staring at your most vulnerable parts had your breath panting out in little puffs. “You... Are you going to... get me down, now?”

You heard the back of his gauntlet scrape the metal floor as he picked up the control pad for the winch. His breath was rasping through his vocoder, the sound of leather creaking as he moved underneath you. You felt the winch catch and then begin to whir as the net began to lower back to the floor.

“Thank the stars,” you whispered, anxious to be back on solid ground again.

You didn’t quite make it, though. You were still a few meters above the floor when the winch came to a sudden stop, leaving you to sway like the pendulum of a run-down clock. “M-Mando?”

“Look so pretty like this, sweet girl,” he murmured below you, and you felt his gloved fingers trail across the back of your thigh. You gasped at the contact. “Close your eyes,” he husked out, voice gone to gravel.

You didn’t even bother to ask why, just snapped your eyes shut and held your breath, waiting. You heard the slap of leather on the floor, guessing it must be his gloves he’d just taken off, and then you felt his bare fingers tracing the straps that dug into your thighs. His fingertips grazed along the edge where the strap met the skin, the sensation making you tense as heat spiraled in your belly, diffusing through your pelvis to spread in a hot rush of slick that trickled out to cool along the petals of your open folds.

“Oh, mesh’la,” Mando cooed, dark and low. “You’re dripping for me, pretty girl.”

A whine escaped your lips, breath catching in your throat as you felt his fingers slide through your arousal, gathering your essence on his fingertips. There was the pneumatic hiss of air as his helmet disengaged and then the ring of beskar ricocheted around the hold as he dropped it to the floor. You could hear the lewd, wet noises he made as he suckled his own fingers, moaning at the taste of you.

“Don’t move, baby girl.”

“Oh, Maker...” you whimpered in a quaking whisper.

You could feel your walls clenching in anticipation. Mando had never used his mouth on you before, said he’d never gone down on anyone before, but as the winch whirred back into motion only to grind to a stop again a moment later, you guessed you were about to find out if this would be his first time.

When you felt his hair tickle the backs of your thighs, an eruptive shudder passed through your entire body. When his nose grazed over your clit, you jolted in the confines of the straps hard enough to send the net swaying, but he caught you and brought you back to center.

“Sh-shh... Easy, baby girl. I got you...” He paused, sniffed. “Fuck, you smell so good,” he hissed out in a rush, and you heard him inhale, could feel his nose right at your parted lips. It was so filthy, so obscene, what he was doing, but it made you quiver with lust, just the same.

His hands came up to grip your ankles, holding you in place. “That’s better,” he murmured, hot breath gusting over your damp folds, eliciting another shiver from you. “Let me hear you, pretty girl. Want to know how good I’m making you feel. Okay?”

You nodded your head furiously, swallowing in an attempt to bring a bit of moisture back into your parched mouth. “Y-Yeah. Okay, Mando.” You didn’t even care that it came out as a whine.

The first touch of his tongue had you choking on air, hips stuttering, not sure whether to rock forward or away from the lapping muscle, but his strong hands held you fast, not letting your squirm away. He dragged his tongue in a slow, hot line from your entrance to your clit, and you moaned like a porn star. You could feel his cheeks bunch up as he grinned at your reaction, and then he flicked his tongue over your pulsing clit again, pulling a sputtering,” Ha-aaa-aaah!” from your gaping mouth.

“You like it when I do that?” he purred lowly into your folds. “What about when I do this?” He enveloped the sensitive bud with his lips, tongue flickering over it with feather-light touches, making you writhe and grind against his mouth. He groaned, then suctioned his lips around it and sucked, pressing his tongue firmly against it. Your plaintive wail echoed throughout the ship.

“Fuck me...” he moaned, panting for breath, his voice shaking. He was completely wrecked. With a desperate snarl, he dove back in with a vengeance, tongue laving your inner folds, twirling around your entrance, lapping at your juices before kissing and sucking at your puffy, parted lips. He was devouring you whole, winding the coil in your core into a taut vibrating spring of tension. Your thighs were shaking uncontrollably, your breaths wheezing out of your lungs in desperate pants.

“Mando! Mando, I...” 

You couldn’t even voice a coherent thought, couldn’t tell him what was about to happen, but he seemed to understand, nevertheless. His fingers slid along your pulsing folds to catch at the rim of your entrance, circling it once before slipping inside. Your walls immediately clamped onto the digits, muscles undulating to pull them deeper. He growled at the feeling and latched onto your clit again crooking his fingers in a come-hither motion, the strokes sharp and quick as they tapped out a devastating tattoo against the spongy membrane of your G-spot.

The world went white behind your pinched eyelids, and you weren’t even aware of the choked scream that tore out of your throat as you were blindsided by your orgasm. The spring in your core gave way with a snap and warmth flooded from your center to gush out around his fingers and over his arm, splattering his lower face, cowl and chest plate.

“Ha!” he crowed. “That’s it! Fuck yes!”

You were barely hanging on, your very bones liquefied as you twitched and groaned with each consecutive pulse of your climax. If you had oozed out through the holes in the net to pool at his feet, you wouldn’t have been the least bit surprised.

“So fuckin’ good, for me. Look at that. Fuck, I need — nngh!”

You heard the motor of the winch whir back into life, then felt the cold sensation of the floor touch the bottom of your feet. You couldn’t have held up your own weight if your life depended on it, however, and so folded up with the netting as it came to rest on the floor. Strong hands lifted you out the mess of straps, hands moving over you, manipulating you as he whispered feverish words in Mando’a  like some fervent benediction.

You felt your back come to rest on top of the netting, the worn fabric of his cape spread out beneath you to serve as a barrier against the rough material. You had yet to open your eyes, jaw slack as you floated somewhere high above your physical body in a state of pure bliss.

Mando placed his calloused hand over your eyes, unwilling to test fate more than he already had. He felt crazed, rabid with lust, his only desire to be buried balls-deep in your cunt.

“Need to feel you, sweet girl,” he gasped at your ear, his breath stuttering against your neck. “Please, I need — “

“Yes! Stars, please, Mando. Want to feel you inside me. Do it...”

He whimpered as he lifted himself away long enough to scrabble at the closure of his pants, shoving them down with his underwear to the top of his thigh plates, a frustrating exercise to complete one-handed. When his cock sprang free of its confines, he moaned in relief, pumping it roughly a couple of times as he spread his leaking precrum over the head with his thumb. With a grunt, he fell between your thighs, notching himself at your entrance, inhaling a deep breath before he sank into your greedy, grasping cunt with an audible squelch.

“Fuuuckin’ hellll...” he moaned out as he slid inside your fluttering walls, grunting again when he felt them collapse around his cock and seize it in a vice grip. It was a struggle to draw himself back, the sensation making his balls draw up tight against his body. “Too good... too tight... Gonna make me cum...” he mumbled under his breath, fighting off his orgasm. When he had withdrawn a about halfway, he couldn’t stand it anymore and plunged back in, thrusting hard enough to shift the netting beneath you.

You sobbed, the feeling of being so full overwhelming, your shaking legs coming up to wrap around his hips, ankles locking over the flexing muscles of his ass. He was driving into you with abandon, the toes of his boots squeaking on the floor to find purchase, bracing his body against yours. His other arm he shoved under your back, fingers hooking over your shoulder to pull you down on his cock to meet each hard thrust. He was growling, muttering curses in multiple languages, hissing as you clenched and pulsed around him.

“Ah, fuck, sweet girl, I’m gonna — Shit! Fuck, baby, where do you want — “

“Inside... Want to feel you cum in me...” you moaned out, another orgasm rising like a massive wave in your core. “Ah, fuck!” you whined.

Your words snapped that last thread of control he had, and he surged forward, thrusting in wild, arhythmic strokes that sent you careening over the edge. Your climax washed over you like a euphoric wave, slow and liquid, a golden warmth that engulfed your lower half before spreading like molten honey.

Mando could feel your walls clamp down and spasm, milking his cock, drawing him in deeper. He threw his head back and came with a bellow, a primal, jagged roar of triumph. His chest lifted as his back arched, his cock exploding inside your walls, pumping ribbons of his thick seed deep into your hungry cunt.

He barely managed to throw an arm out to catch himself before falling forward. He was trembling above you. and when his elbow buckled, his head fell to your chest. His nose was smooshed into the side of your breast, his panting breaths teasing the sensitive bud of your nipple into a hard little nub beneath the thin material of his tunic. He gave a dazed grin at the sight, wishing he had the energy to take it in his mouth, but he wasn’t sure he could even lift his head yet.

“Stars, pretty girl. I think you’ve killed me.”

A breathless wheeze of laughter burst out of your chest, and you reached up to pull down the hand now splayed limp over your face to your lips. You left a lingering kiss in the palm as you crooked your other arm over your eyes, just so the temptation to peek wouldn’t get the best of you. You felt him lift his head with reluctance, his weight shifting, before his lips pressed to yours in a sweet, chaste kiss.

“You alright? I know I went pretty hard this time. I didn’t mean to lose it like that, but — “

Your hand came up to touch his face, landing on his neck instead. You slid it upward to cup his jaw, the feel of his patchy beard against your palm endearing. “Don’t you dare apologize,” you told him and drew him down for another kiss. “It was perfect. The best I’ve ever had,” you whispered against his lips.

He sighed, smiling against your mouth in relief and pleasure. When he shifted again, he saw you grimace. “Did I hurt you, sweet girl?” he rushed to ask, lifting his weight off you.

You giggled and shook your head. “No, it’s not that. There’s something cold and sticky all over your chest plate. It feels... icky.”

He glanced down to see your release from earlier smeared over his beskar, and he chuckled, low and dirty. “That’s your fault,” he teased. “You drowned me when you came the first time.”

Your mouth dropped open and, if not for his hand coming down to hold your arm in place, you would have jerked it away from your eyes to stare at him in shock. “I did not!” you gasped. mortified.

“Oh, you did, pretty girl,” he crooned. “I want to make you do it again.”

“What? N-Now?!”

A full-on laugh rumbled out of his chest this time. “No, sweet girl. As much as I’d love to, I don’t either one of us is going to be able to go another round after that last one.”

“Oh, thank the Maker,” you blurted out, and then winced. “Sorry. I didn’t mean —”

He sniffed in amusement and pecked you on the lips. “I know what you meant, mesh’la.” Sitting back on his knees, he rubbed at his face, grinning at the sticky feel of your spend drying in his mustache. He was positively covered in your cum, and he fucking loved it. His poor cock gave a valiant twitch before he tucked it back into his pants and stood. “C’mon, sweet girl. Let’s get in the shower.” He retrieved his helmet, slipping it back on before bending to take you by the hand.

You groaned. “Just lemme sleep here. Can’t move right now.”

“You’ll freeze down here,” he chided you. “Now come on. I’ll help you.”

You whined as he hauled you onto your feet, and you staggered on your shaking legs. He shook his head and turned his back to you, bending his knees slightly. “Hop on. I’ll carry you up the ladder. Otherwise, we will be down here all night.”

You made a face at him, but wrapped your arms around his neck anyway, making a weak hop to get onto his back. Grasping your thighs, he hitched you up a little higher and stood, then trudged towards the ladder at the opposite end of the hold.

“Oh, stars,” you moaned out behind him, dropping your forehead to his back. “Do you think we woke Grogu? We were, uh... ahem... We were, you know, a little loud,” you whispered.

“Well, the ship’s still flying, and I didn’t hear anything break while we were down here, so I’m going to say no.”

You giggled. “He’s gonna get it tomorrow morning,” you vowed. “He was the reason I got caught up in that stupid net in the first place. He somehow managed to get on that top shelf with a whole sleeve of cookies and my datapad.” You paused, moaned again. “Shit. My datapad. It broke when I dropped it.”

“Don’t worry, mesh’la. We’ll get you another one, and I’ll talk to Grogu myself tomorrow morning, right after breakfast. Okay?”

You sighed, a little grin tugging at your lips. “Okay.” You heaved a sigh, tightening your grip when Mando started to climb up the ladder. “I know one thing. I’m burning that stupid net when we get back to Nevarro.”

Mando huffed and shook his head. “Like hell you are. We’re bringing that home with us. It’s going up in the bedroom, right above the bed.”

You gasped in shock, rearing your head back. “Mando!”

His rumbling chuckle bounced off the metal walls of the ship, and a warmth like the sun bloomed in your chest as a smile as big as the Dune Sea spread across your face.

“Okay, fine. We’ll discuss the cargo net later. But right now, I want a shower.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Mando purred, and you could hear the grin in his voice. Taking your hand, he led you into the ‘fresher.

Despite Mando’s earlier doubts, you found out that you both did indeed have another round left in you.

(End notes: Just wanted to mention @saradika because she created the dividers and banners I’m using. She makes them for free. You can check out her masterlist on her blog. Her fics are *chef’s kiss* too.) 

[thescarletnargacuga]

RACEWAY AU KART INSPIRATIONS

A list of the racers and the cars/motorcycles that inspired the karts they drive! All of these vehicles are wildly different because I'm going for visual representation over practicality.

CAINE

The 1959 Chevrolet Corvette convertible

Racer insignia: top hat

Advantage: controlled by the administrative AI

Disadvantage: controlled by the administrative AI

POMNI

The C36 Formula 1

Racer insignia: Jester hat

Advantage: extremely fast

Disadvantage: poor traction for drifting

KINGER

The Apollo IE

Racer insignia: crown

Advantage: High maneuverability

Disadvantage: The driver often doesn't pay attention

RAGATHA

The Ford GT

Racer insignia: a button in a flower

Advantage: gets the most air time on jumps

Disadvantage: poor hairpin maneuverability

JAX

The Toyota GR Supra

Racer insignia: cartoon rabbit head silhouette

Advantage: best at drifting

Disadvantage: not very fast on straightaways

GANGLE

The W1 Lamborghini Huracán

Racer insignia: theatre comedy/tragedy masks

Advantage: very cute

Disadvantage: has a nervous driver

ZOOBLE

The Subaru stock rally race car

Racer insignia: a simple equilateral triangle

Advantage: excellent traction on any track

Disadvantage: driver doesn't give a shit

GUMMIGOO

The Harley Softail chopper

Racer insignia: gator head silhouette

Advantage: more agile than standard karts

Disadvantage: easy to delay with items or collision

SETH

The BMW HP4 racer

Racer insignia: none

Advantage: same abilities as Caine

Disadvantage: ego

[rottenpumpkin13]

What is ASG +ZC personal style?

Zack: His entire aesthetic is aimed at looking cool, but keeping his clothes easy to move around in. He's a fan of leather jackets, sleeveless shirts, baggy pants, fitted tees, and combat boots. He wears his dog tag as an accessory likes fingerless gloves. He used to always wear his favorite pair of old sneakers until Angeal had him throw them out.

Genesis: What happened to your sneakers?

Zack: Angeal happened! He made me throw them out. They weren't even that bad!

Angeal, from the other room: THEY SMELLED LIKE SEWAGE. YOU TOOK YOUR SHOES OFF IN FRONT OF CLOUD AND HE FAINTED. SEPHIROTH APPROACHED TO HELP, COULDN'T HANDLE THE STENCH, AND WRAPPED HIS HAIR AROUND HIS NOSE.

Sephiroth: Minimalist, lots of black and dark shades with the occasional splash of silver here and there. He's very comfort over style, however he does have style elements to his wardrobe that he enjoys adding that oftentimes lean towards goth fashion; long coats, button-ups, black leather, fingerless gloves, and turtlenecks (ironically). Genesis got him a mesh top as a gag, which he has worn a few times "purely because it's comfortable" (or so he claims). That being said, he will choose sweatpants and one of Angeal's hoodies over all of that any day.

*Sephiroth is wearing all black*

Zack: Woah! Hehe. Who died?

Sephiroth, confused: Professor Gast, my mother, Glenn Lodbrok, Rosen, [he keeps going]

Zack: .......

Angeal: "Casual and comfortable" is what he calls it, "a cross between a hippie, a dad, and a wannabe musician" is what Genesis lovingly dubs it as. He keeps a flannel tied at his waist in case he or someone he's with gets cold, he likes to reuse old band tees by cutting them out and fashioning them into torn muscle shirts, and if you leave a white article of clothing out for too long and don't use it, Angeal will tie-dye it. He likes black jeans and jean jackets. He would wear more hoodies, but....

*Angeal walks into the room*

Angeal: Has anyone seen my hoodies?

Zack, wearing hoodie #1: Nope!

Genesis, wearing hoodie #2: Not that I recall.

Cloud, wearing hoodie #3: I wonder what happened to them.

Sephiroth, wearing hoodies #4, #5, and #6: Perhaps you misplaced them.

Angeal: Oh my god.

Cloud: He chooses his clothes based on maneuverability and how easy they are to fight in, but there are specific style choices he makes, such as preferring all black over color, wolf emblems, and loose clothing if he can help it. He doesn't like jackets, claiming that since he came from a cold mountain region, he doesn't get cold easily.

*Cloud isn't wearing a coat*

Zack: Are you sure you're not cold?

Cloud: Of course not. I grew up in Nibelheim. This kind of weather is summer over there.

Zack: Your arms are blue.

Cloud: It's a fashion choice.

Zack: You're shaking.

Cloud: No, I'm trembling in excitement.

Zack: What are you excited for?

Cloud: FOR THEM TO TURN THE DAMN A/C OFF.

Genesis: It depends on the month, weather, his horoscope, and his mood. If you send Genesis into his overflowing closet, he'll either walk out looking like a 19th century poet, an English professor, head to toe designer labels, or as if he's about to walk the runway. True to his fanclub name, he loves red leather and tries to incorporate it into each of his looks, all of which have red as the main color. He's praised by his fans for his style, meaning he has a certain appearance to maintain, which often makes him highly fashion-conscious. He disregards traditional gender norms when selecting his clothing, and he likes to experiment with makeup.

*After spending two hours selecting a look, Genesis walks out with a button-up that has a heart cutout on his chest*

Genesis: I'm ready.

Sephiroth: Your chest is exposed. Are you aware of that?

Genesis: Yes, I—

Sephiroth: Whore.

Genesis: