#<- like goggle as in gogglehead

[leorimon]

did i really never post these here???

anyways, fan digimon and animation tests of them

[allthekingssmut]

She's Rough And Coarse And Gets Everywhere

Jeon Heejin - Male Reader Word Count - 7.5k (2.2K) Tags: Rough Sex, Coarse Language and only trace amounts of sand... hopefully.

A/N: Welcome to Sandstorm 2: Electric Boogaloo, aka the reboot but not really since the original didn't happen. Which unfortunately means you're stuck with me. All joke's aside, this started as a anniversary present for Flint, which looking at the date... is pretty fucking late lol. Anyway, super big thanks to @nsfwflint for helping my rookie ass out and just being a cool dude all-round.

God, it is hot, a thought you trace as you find yourself nestled in the dark, dingy corner of Chalmun's Cantina. Even over the roar of crashing glasses and seedy elements, it always feels like your home away from home.

It helps that the music is decent.

Still, you can pick out a familiar guttural bark through the swells of liquor and hazy smoke.

"Shouldn't you be at work, kid?"

Chalmun.

His fingers flex and tug at his grey handlebar mustache... Can Wookiees even have mustaches? A lie pulls at the edge of your lips, tempting as it might be, but you know better.

"I-Uh, yeah," your teeth chew at the inside of your cheek. "Yeah, I should be."

"Do I need to remind you of the deal?"

You roll your eyes, something you hope he doesn't quite see or understand. "I get to freeload as much as I want as long as I help out Heejin."

"Which you are..."

"Not doing," a resigned sigh whispers past your lips. "I get it, I get it, it's just really hot in the garage."

Not a complete lie.

There's a flicker of an annoyed snarl that plays across his features, a hint of worry lingers in your gut. A deep inhale sets him at ease, a smile tickles across his lips.

"One would think you're not used to the twin suns of Tatooine," you feel his firm grip against your shoulder, raw and brutishly animalistic. "Odd, considering you've lived here your whole life."

A thumb bounces against his lip almost playfully in thought.

"Or perhaps something else is making it hard to focus and unbearably hot?"

He is right, there is no point doing it. Fight as you must, your brain lingers where it shouldn't. Her taut, sweat-soaked abs, the swell of her hips barely hidden by her jumpsuit.

You feel the greeting of cold glass against your skin, a bottle of liquor offered to your hand.

"Maybe this will help with the heat."

-

Despite your claims, the garage provides a welcome respite from familiar heats. The squelch of sand gives way to rigid metal.

"Is that you, Gogglehead?" Her voice echoes from deeper within, no doubt immersed in your work.

Pop the bottle, take a swig, cool off.

Focus up if you can.

The liquor saunters through every nerve, syrupy and sweet.

Kowakian rum. 

Maybe it will help, if only to make you regret your existence tomorrow.

"Yeah, stopped off at Chalmun's for a drink," your feet dot around a corner, seeking her familiar tortuous figure. "Do you want some?"

You catch the faintest outline of her voice, her feet dangling out of the chassis, a tangled mess of wires and cords, the wiggle of her ass taunts you with an enticing sway.

Her back arches back with the swivel of her gaze. A furrowed crease lingers on her brow.

"I can't seem to get the pod to start."

You press two firm fingers into your temple, as it seems you now have two reasons to drink today.

Your tongue tastes the edge of your teeth with a stinging annoyance. "That's because I removed the thrust coil."

There's a flare of annoyance dotting each step towards you, the dance of a scoff against her lips. "I thought I told you the thrust coil was fine."

Her pointed finger prods at your chest, still, it's hard to ignore the slight hint of cleavage in her tube top.

Wait, were those your goggles?

The briefest touch sparks in your brain with a subtle intoxication, a want for more.

Her voice lingers in the air, the low huskiness is captivating even in spite of her irritated parlance.

A slow release of air is all you can manage.

Focus.

"Yeah, technically. Except it wasn't fitted properly for the cooling pump."

All this talk of thrusts and pumps isn't helping.

"Which, as you know, would make the engine blow."

A stressed huff is all that escapes her lips, fingers dancing across her temples as her eyes crawl shut.

There's a slightly forced smile that splinters across her lips, "What were you asking about again?"

Her lips soften as her eyes adjust over you, reinforced with a proper smile.

The glass bottle almost seems foreign and forgotten at that moment, "Uh, Kowakian Rum."

Her nostrils flare ever so slightly, her lips roil and dance with the idea before an exasperated sigh joins the fray with knotted eyebrows like tangled cablework.

"I'd love some, but I can't."

Huh?

"Excuse me, what?" The words sound more surprised and scornful than you anticipated, dancing in the simmering heat. You offer an arched eyebrow as a consolation. "Could you repeat that?"

Her lips flatten, curving into the tiniest frown.

"I said I'd love to, but I can't."

She stresses the word once again, you catch the flash of an almost cringe-induced grimace.

There's an almost troubled weight to her brow. A far cry from the Heejin you knew with a liquor tab nine pages deep.

You take another swig, almost habitual as the bottle rests in your hand.

"Do I even want to know?"

There's the lingering whispers of embarrassment that echo through her body onto her features, a dejected huff.

"Well, the Boonta Eve Classic is soon."

Your eyebrows knit together in a handshake of confusion.

"Yeah, next week. What's that got to do with today?"

There's the briefest flicker of her tongue against her lips before her teeth bite taut.

Her fingers pinch at the bridge of her nose as she paces.

"It's dumb, but my old coach would make us cut out all our vices before a race."

You offer her an understanding nod before taking another swig.

More for you.

Sweet rum trickles through your lips as a question cradles at the edge of your brow, before placing the bottle against the ground.

"So, like boxers before a fight?"

It would explain why you've been able to find moments away from her at the cantina.

"Yeah, exactly the same."

It's habitual the way your hands work and coast through wires and machinery, a habit you picked up from your father.

"Is that why you've been a bit…" Your hands struggle through the mess wrought by Heejin's handiwork, locked seals and knotted wires.

"Of a bitch?" She scoffs, a scowl burns across her face.

"Not the words I would've used," your eyes dance across the sandy brown ceiling. "Passionate, maybe?"

You catch the edge of a laugh, hidden by the roll of her eyes. Her laughter ripples with a melodic spring that dances and bounces against the tension that once hung thick in the air.

Still, there's something else that crinkles against your skin, a scintillating static that teases thoughts best left unsaid.

They're unprofessional, to say the least.

Yet, your eyes linger against Heejin, leaving the task at hand forgotten and abandoned. You swear she feels it too, if only for a second.

"Passionate, huh?" There's a flash of amusement that twinkles in her eyes. It twists slowly under your gaze before her eyes narrow, her voice drops lower with its husky richness, almost tauntingly. "Chalmun said you had a mouth on you."

There's something about the way that word rolls off her tongue, the coy dance as she moves closer.

Yet, she says nothing of it, of the deeper insinuation that lingers against your brain. Instead, her hands move with practiced precision, deftly manipulating wires and connectors, untangling the mess she'd left you with.

It's a practice you're used to with other clients. Why should you undo their missteps? Yet, there's a sensual grace to her movements, a fluidity that reminds you that she isn't a slouch in the mechanic department.

Yet, your brain lingers on the other applications such grace could be used for.

She pauses, taken by a sudden thought. There's the flicker of a smirk as she turns to you. "Being a little rough, or even bold, is more my style."

You lean against the nearby workbench, watching her continue to work in silence for a moment. You quickly find the rum in your hand once again, the cool liquid soothes your parched throat, but it does nothing for the simmering heat that lingers in your mind.

Your eyes never leave her taunting sweat-soaked figure, the lingering taste of rum on your tongue only intensifies your imagination and longing.

The question bites at your lips before you can even stop it.

"So, cutting out vices, huh?" You finally respond, your voice rich and huskier than you intended, betraying the thoughts that lingered. "Does that mean no late-night  indulgences of any kind?"

Heejin looks up at you, her gaze meeting yours, a flicker of intrigue glimmering in her eyes. She pauses for a brief moment, as if weighing her response, her lips curving into a knowing smile.

"Well, let's just say that focus and discipline are essential before a race," she says, her voice lower, carrying a sensual edge that carves a shiver down your spine. "But let's just say all this talk of pumps and thrust isn't helping me with my frustrations."

The innuendo in her words hangs heavy in the air, weaving a web of temptation that becomes harder to resist. You can feel your heart pounding in your chest, the air between you charged with an undeniable chemistry.

Your gaze lingers on her as she continues working, her body moving with a seductive grace that seems to draw you in closer. The image of her sweat-soaked jumpsuit clings to her curves, amplifying the allure she exudes. The desire to reach out and touch her becomes almost overwhelming, but you fight to maintain composure.

As you approach her, your voice is laced with a mixture of desire and restraint. "Tell you what, when we win, I'll buy you as many drinks as you want."

Heejin's eyes darken slightly, her fingers pausing momentarily in their task. A smile plays at the edge of her lips, tossing and turning. She leans closer to you, her breath caressing your ear as she whispers, "Don't let your mouth write checks you can't cash, Gogglehead."

Her fingers play at your collar, a twinkling mischievous glint in her eye.

The suggestive implication hangs in the air, leaving your senses reeling. It takes all your self-control to keep your composure as the sexual tension between you and Heejin becomes nearly palpable.

With a knowing smile, you take a step back, forcing yourself to break away from the electrifying energy that crackles between you. "Let's focus up. We can't win if the pod isn't working in the first place."

Heejin's eyes follow your movement, a mix of longing and frustration flickering in her gaze. She bites her lip, as it falters, pushed back by the need for victory or perhaps something else?

A twitch of a smile lingers.

-

Tension hangs sticky and thick like the sweat that clings desperately to your overalls, there’s an anxious pace to your movements. Each wire, each connector, and every intricate detail weigh heavily on your mind and body, with ache and strain.

One small misstep spells defeat... or perhaps even worse.

As soon as the pod leaves the garage, it’s out of your hand. Heejin is no slouch, unless something catastrophically wrong happens... She can handle it. 

Something you need to remind yourself of.

Yet, even as the days quickly blur together, there is a... weird nonchalance to her. That isn't the right word.

Calm and collected. 

Unnerving. 

At least compared to the itchy stressed friction you have grown accustomed to, though perhaps it is just her storied experience kicking in. 

Even if she has been out of the saddle for a bit. 

Still, it does nothing to settle your own worries.

“You know someone would think you’re the one racing Gogglehead,” her voice dances with a teasing playfulness. Even as you scan over the engine for the umpteenth time, you can practically see the smirk that plays on her soft lips—

Focus up.

“I-” How do you say you worry? That maybe it’s not so bad working with someone who isn’t useless an- “I just don’t want you blaming me if you lose.”

It's cocky the way her teeth flare, as her eyes look you up and down. A scoff echoes from her lips, the thought simply unimaginable. "And here I was thinking you were worrying about me."

Her fingers play at the collar of your jumpsuit, and it's hard to ignore the heat that builds  with her touch. The way electricity hums under your skin as she steps closer, pushing into your space with an ease she only knows.

"Plus..." she whispers, and you feel each syllable brush against your skin, it’s light yet tempting all the same, pushing you with coaxing waves towards the edge.

The worry is almost an afterthought as her hand crests your hip. Her voice dips to a sultry, soft, husky whisper. "I have something of a good luck charm with me."

It creeps in your chest, the sparks that dance with her touch. You know better, as her lips peak with a smile, taunting and teasing. Still, it's hard to ignore the magic hidden in a magician devious yet charismatic trickery.

You hate the part of your brain that accepts she might be referring to you. Her taunts and jabs, a way to ease the tension that builds under her skin without indulgence.

It stings, as you bite your tongue, fighting the pull she has. You roll your eyes, step back, hand grasping a cloth to wipe away sweat and grease that mar your skin.

It's easier to breathe without her held in your gaze, your mind clears against her temptation. Still, you can't help but feel the heat that lingers thick in the air with her mere presence.

"Yeah, and what's this good luck charm?" you bite the bait, it's unwitting and against your character as your eyes stray back towards her plunging back into the thick heat.

Her lips brighten with that beautiful smile that pulls you deep and tugs at your core. 

You almost miss when she is insufferable in a different way.

Still, there's a weird softness that flickers briefly on her lips, burning into her eyes for haunting microseconds. Your brain begs to understand what it means, if there is more under the surface. 

But it quickly fades, a nameless speck of sand lost in an ocean.

She pulls out a familiar object, your eyebrows knit together—when did she?

"Really? My goggles?"

Your keepsake, your namesake, has been an afterthought against the heated hours in the garage. Too focused on the pod as a way to ignore the temptations that linger on the horizon.

She cocks her head to the side, the flare of her teeth with a scrunch of her nose tells you everything. Your reaction is priceless to her. To be fair, you completely forget about them in the ebb and flow of your conversation last week.

Still, there's a flit of actual happiness that plays on her lips, curving into a brief yet genuine smile.

You remember the hazy conversations from weeks long past, held in the drunken allure of the Cantina. A confession of vulnerability on your part, held together with liquor and a rare interest in you.

Your father's goggles.

Your good luck charm.

Yet, it means nothing to her, should mean nothing to her. The contradictions to your thoughts and assumptions linger on the sparks that twinkle in her eyes.

Her words are fuel to the fire.

"Of course~" her voice saunters with a teasing edge., flickering against the embers of something more. "A reminder of all the free drinks you'll owe me."

Her words poke and prod, flecked with a flirtatious taunt. Yet there's something that hums deep at the base of her voice, it twists with words unspoken. 

Perhaps you're putting too much value on yourself in her eyes? 

Yet it bounces and lodges in your brain, her own hushed worry.

The idea that you'd be with her, at least in spirit or a reminder of who to win for.

You catch the hitch of a smirk that scatters across her lips, the wind-up for another remark or jab.

"Plus, I can't wait to see all your winnings disappear on my tab."

A groan leaves your lips before you can stave it off, perhaps you are just her mechanic. A damn good one, mind you. Hell, you'd dare to say one of the best.

At least on Tatooine.

"Yeah, yeah." Your hands are already smoothing out the last details with the Pod, closing hatches and double-checking connectors. Your hands stray and drift, placing your goggles on her head. "Just make sure to bring those back, okay?"

Again, there's that flare of softness that beckons at the edge of her eyes as she looks up at you.

A weird tenderness clings in the air, it's vapid and calming. An entirely different beast to the charged and heated air you often share.

"I'd hate to come up with a different nickname for you after all."

-

The aftermath is a storm of its own kind, a mess of sweltering heat in Mos Espa's Grand Arena, charged with tense excitement.

It's violent and sudden, like a crash of thunder to the chest. Your human eyes aren't able to keep up with the sudden burst of sand that trails through the arena.

The roar of the crowd, akin to a gunshot breaking through the air, is the only evidence the race is over.

There's a hum of worry that lingers in your lungs, shoulders tense with an anxious weight. Your hand grips at Chalmun's shoulder, his fur jitters underneath your touch.

A roar tears through the air, a simple guttural howl, animalistic and excited.

Heejin would've probably asked you what he said.

A cheer of excitement, elation... but also smugness? You watch as his eyes dart towards the Hutt Clan's private box, the lavish adornments are lost on you as you catch a pained, scorned look echo across the Hutt's face.

You don't need to know Huttese to know someone is going to get fired.

Chalmun's energy is infectious as he grips your shoulders, lost in the throes of victory he shakes you violently.

Pain twitches through you as the world becomes a blur, yet even with the pain, your brain is focused only on her, the small speck in the distance putting on a show.

Flared waves of sand make it all the harder to pick her out through her victory laps.

Still, you can imagine her smile all the same.

-

It's unnerving, the chill bustle of the night air that saunters through Mos Eisley. Even through the thick haze of laughter, celebrations, and intoxication.

Chalmun's is your home away from home, normally you'd be in the thick of merriment, a sly attempt at free drinks. But something is missing... and you're hesitant to acknowledge it.

Have you been so caught up in the insinuation, the allure of her words that you've actually fallen for them?

...No, you're just tired.

Probably.

Still, you owe yourself a drink at the very least, a chance to join the revelry. After all, it is a rare thing for the Cantina to be filled with fewer of the more rambunctious and unsavory types you've known all your life.

You wave at Ackmena, two fingers a signal for your usual. She smiles, moving with a comforting warmth. If only she could work day shifts instead of Wuher.

Your drink slides over, punctuated with a wink.

"Thank-" the drink is gone in a flash, snapped up in a blur and returned with a slam.

Empty.

Some of the more usual behavior you're used to. A scowl licks at your teeth, your fist clenches tensed with an eagerness to make amends.

"You mind telling me why?" You ask, twisting around prepared to deck the dumbas-

Heejin or at the very least a beautiful woman in her shape and mannerism. The flare of teeth that takes pleasure in your reaction gives it away.

But fuck is she breath-taking, you mean no slight towards her usual appearance. If anything, there is a unique allure to the messy sweat-soaked and grease-smattered appearance that you've grown used to.

Replaced, draped in a luxurious fur coat that almost mocks Chalmun's usual patrons if it didn't enhance her already enrapturing allure. Her black crop top taunts you with the flare of her abs and soft curves aided by her black shorts and leather boots.

Her skin is no longer a teasing insinuation in your unfocused moments, rather a full-fledged suggestion for desire to latch on to, tooth and claw.

A girl out on the prowl through Coruscant's tempestuous nightlife, if you didn't know any better.

Her grin creases into a smirk, because oh god, you're staring and she knows.

It's hard not to, even with the flare of obnoxious confidence that glitters in her eyes.

Any words you have die in your throat, assailed by her charm.

Her tongue flits across her lips with a seductive grace, how would it feel against you in every sense of the word?

"If I'm not mistaken, someone promised me drinks." It's tantalizing the way she pulls herself close to you, lips hovering against your ear. "I intend to get my fill."

It's paradoxical the way you feel underdressed and yet overdressed for your desires. Heat prickles at the nape of your neck, your body's insinuation for how much you stick out, your jumpsuit mere rags in her company.

You knew you didn't, hoped you didn't. Yet it's hard to focus on logic when she lingers so close to you, her short hair tickling your skin.

Her proximity teeters on the edge of electric and intoxicating.

You're thankful your mind lingers on a memory, brief and fluttering, a passing conversation to ease the heat that settles in your core.

"Why the short hair?" An attempt at idle chit-chat before liquor loosened you up to conversation.

"My coach suggested it, said it'd get in the way." An oddly straightforward answer for the racer, you didn't know better back then.

You still remember the touch of her fingers as she leant closer, eyes focused, her voice dropping low to that tauntingly low husky whisper. "When fighting, racing, or fucking."

The grip of her hand pulls you back, calloused yet soft. You can feel the whisper of a smile, her breath tickling your cheek.

"Show me how you do it," her voice saunters like honey dripping with seductive sweetness, you cling to her words against the overwhelming bustle of a busy cantina. "Teach me."

It's hard to ignore the heat that builds, you know she's talking about slipping an order to Ackmena. But you can't help stiffen under the insinuation that haunts and tempts you.

You can practically see the pleasure that would quiver across her lips, tempting her to aid you.

A dry swallow is all you can manage to fight off the thought, a temporary fix.

She follows your guiding touch, moving with an almost uncharacteristic soft tentativeness. "Just like that?"

You swear you catch her breath hitch when your hand clasps against hers, pushing her fingers into place with unintended roughness.

A rare moment of catching her flat-footed, yet the moment drifts away like sand between your fingers before you can pounce.

A firm hand binds your wrists together.

Tork, Chalmun's bouncer.

"Boss needs the both of you in his office, pronto," his voice booms, despite his overwhelming stature and size, a small dumb animalistic fleck of your brain is tempted with the idea of a brawl.

Thankfully, Heejin moves first, slipping her hand out of his grip with spry ease. "We'll be there right away."

She smiles, the soft disarming smile you almost don't see anymore. Earning her a soft nod from the pale blue bouncer.

She shuffles slightly, straightening out her clothes.

"Wouldn't want to ruin a perfectly good day for him."

Tork only grunts in response before guiding you both through labyrinthine sandstone backrooms, the rooms twist and turn with each step before you find yourself in front of familiar doors.

Familiar is a generous term, only having seen them once when you were a kid. Your heart prickles with anxiety at the thought.

You're surprised when the door opens softly, his familiar brown fur gesturing for you to come inside.

You inch forward, your blood thrumming in your veins. You take in the dimly lit office, a timeless recreation from your youth. Your gaze falls upon the wall of blasters and you can feel their powerful presence.

You can still practically taste the freshly heated air, cooked with blaster fire. A fragment that haunts you from years long since past.

Still you push through, nudging Heejin away from the small inviting coffee table opposite his desk, the plush decorative rug stained with years old coffee hints at its sinister nature.

You didn’t want to see another victim, let alone Heejin of all people.

She falls in line with your touch, trusting your guidance. As Chalmun moves with a frenetic pace, a giddiness that keeps him moving.

Though you doubt Heejin could see the nuances when it comes to the Wookie.

"I wish I'd been alerted to your presence sooner," he smiles through his guttural barks. "My friends should only drink the finest liquor."

He rummages through cabinets and containers with a rough ferocity.

You roll your eyes, a smile twists across your lips. "Here I was thinking it was something bad. You can't get Tork to tell us you want to reward us?"

You catch a sigh of relief from Heejin at your words.

"Please, boy, where is the fun in that?" He beams a well-placed smile as he produces two familiar bottles. "I deserve some fun despite your efforts."

"I doubt you brought us here just for two bottles of Kowakian rum... even for a little bit of fun on your end."

"Of course not, make yourself at home, away from the riff-raff and her adoring fans." Mischief dances in his eyes as he steps closer, twisting the flare of a smirk against his lips. "I have a Sabacc game to get to, an attempt by the slugs to regain their honor."

"Alright, boss." Your eyebrows twitch, unsure of what he's playing at or for. He moves with confidence, shuffling past you towards the door.

There's a moment of hesitance as he turns back to you for the briefest second. "Just don't make too much of a mess."

"What was that about?" She asks, head tilting to the side with less than subtle curiosity. The Wookie becomes nothing but an afterthought, a fading ember in your isolated presence with Heejin.

"Oh," you turn to her, biting your lip. "He just wanted us to make ourselves comfortable and enjoy his private stock."

Even in the dim light born from the single illumination panel behind the desk, you can pick out the way her eyes narrow. Her lips purse, teasing on the edge of a question. "What about that last thing? It seemed pointed at you."

Her voice hums with something foreign, at least to your interactions.

Worry?... No, that doesn't seem right. Her nature, her confidence forbids the very idea. No, it's something else that dances tauntingly at the tip of your tongue.

"Relax, it was nothing, Heej," the nickname rolls off your tongue before you can even stop it, you watch as it lingers in the air, moving with a sauntering slowness. Your brain jostles with awkward apologies that die in your thoughts before finally it lands.

Square in her chest, judging from the swell of her smile.

"You don't have to call me that, you know?" there's a warmth that's strange on her lips, a flicker of softness as her eyes linger on you. "It's nice, though."

Her feet shuffle, shifting under the weight of vulnerability. She develops a sudden interest in everything, except for you. Unable to build up the courage to look you in the eye.

To speak plainly too, apparently. A rare silence fills the void in conversation.

A smile bubbles to your lips, you should cut her some slack, offer her a life ring. "We were gonna drink, weren't we?"

Your words cobble together the version of Heejin you're used to, fluttering eyelashes and teasing smirks.

She preens under your gaze with a sultry swipe of her tongue across her lips. Each movement is enticing, weighed heavy with calculated seduction.

The sway of her ass buzzes with a tantalizing edge, pushing into your space with a graceful twirl. "Yes, we were."

Your baser instincts beg for permission, to indulge her in her attempts. To feel your hands carve into her taut, firm ass as you take her. 

It's hard to ignore the stiffening desire that stirs in your loins, her hand traces your chest pushing you back into the hardwood desk.

A smirk blooms across her lips, dancing with the often-times obnoxious confidence you'd grown to love to hate. It's hard to resist the tug, the control she has over you. 

The only defense, the only respite you can manage is found in a bottle of Kowakian rum. 

Syrupy sweet indulgence.

Her hand brushes over your bottle-held grasp, coaxing it out of your grasp into the embrace of her lips. She's less than subtle, as the liquor spills from her lips, trickling in enticing rivulets down her chin.

A knowing wink, pulls you deeper as she continues to imbibe; desperate to get her fill. Awe and admiration bubbles underneath your skin as she throws back the bottle and all of its contents.

The bottle slams against the desk, a devilish grin burns across her lips. She looks up at you, cheeks flushed with liquor that lingers on her every breath.

Her tongue plays against her lips, her eyes sparkle with a flash of insight, a realization.

Her teeth tense against her bottom lip, as the air cackles with tension, heavy and sweltering.

A flash of resignation, as words leave her lips.

"So," her voice drips with a hungry, ravenous need that you didn't need to hear, you could already feel it. The soft ministration of her hand against your clothed cock. "Are we gonna fuck or what?"

Gone is the pretense, replaced with a desperate gnawing need for her fill. It's intoxicating the way her lips quiver and crack against raw primal hunger.

Your hands crest her hair, soft and delicate as a wry smirk bounces across her lips. Her eyes settle on yours, beaming with anticipation and an unmistakable craving that eagerly awaits your command.

Her head tilts back, her silky locks spilling around her face in waves of delight.

A gasp shatters with a moan as your calloused hand tugs her hair, pulling her closer into your embrace. Her breath hitches and floats on the edge of another moan as you press against her contours.

You take your time savoring each sensation, the heat searing through the air as though it were tangible. Your mouth burns against her neck, leaving bruises that smolder in your wake. Each cinder pushes a smile against her, each ember pulls a purr into her throat.

Your cock is an afterthought against the hazy pleasure that twists and churns in the back of your skull. It aches and yearns, an animalistic need to consume her in your roaring flames, reduce her to an ash that knows only your name.

It's instinctual, the way your hands wander and rove over her body, teasing and taunting in equal measure as you whisper sweet nothings in her ear.

"You weren't kidding," a smirk hangs on your lips between flame-licked bruises. You lock your fingers through her hair, hungrily drawing her tight, clawing a soft whimper from her throat. Your hand trickles down her back with playful fingertips, haunting the edge of her hip before finally carving into her ass with a voracious slap. "Rough is definitely your style."

A flash of shock sparks against her features, eyes wide and mouth jar before it shifts into a hungry, carnal smile as her eyes latch tight to yours. She had no escape, but you doubt she'd want to.

You catch the turn of gears, a witty comeback in the making. Yet, you're too focused on the way her supple, taut ass feels against your hand. Your fingers teeter on the edges of her hips, creeping along the divot of her abs, plucking at the button of her short with a teasing flare.

Her words are shaky, barely discernible against the soft moans that escape her lips, blooming into a whiney drawn out fuck, as your fingers snake through her shorts and past her underwear.

Holy fuck is she wet.

A desperate quiver ripples across her lips strengthened with each passionate caress, her throat hums begging for more as your fingers slide into her slick heat, a flooded river of anticipation.

Your mouth clashes with hers, hot and frenzied as the air sizzles with passion. Her tongue crashes against yours, a carnal dance that leaves you gasping for more.

A tug of her hair earns a breathy honeyed moan as a smile twists across her lips, cocky and headstrong. Slowly it fades shifting with the guidance of your pleasure soaked fingers bucking against her sweet spot.

Any thoughts, any words jumble and die in her throat, replaced with a whispered please. Ecstasy ignites like a wildfire across her face tightening into a low whine as you hold her just shy of the precipice.

Her hips buck with a desperate plea, begging for release in the hazy mist of pleasure.

Yet, something fights within her at the edge of her lips, a small defiant fragmented shard.

Her hand caresses your cock, no longer a forgotten afterthought in your pursuit. She purrs as she strokes at your clothed length.

"I think someone deserves some attention," her voice dripping with seduction, a husky warmth. A veiled attempt to regain some semblance of control. "Let's see if it was worth all the anticipation~"

Her movements are smooth and focused, still you notice the weak wobble of her knees as she peels away your jumpsuit by the zip. Her fingers dance with an electric spark-filled tension slowly creeping to your boxers.

It's intoxicating the way her tongue flits across her lips as she drops to her knees. Raw hunger bounces across her lips, quivering in anticipation.

Her hands tremble and shake, a small crack in her veneer of confidence.

Her eyes linger and smolder burning with an intensity that threatens to swallow you whole. Her lips part with the slightest breath, her teeth clench tight against her bottom lip, her gaze unflinching as she slowly and deliberately peels away your boxers.

It's delicious and succulent, the surprise that echoes across her features, punctuated with a gasp as your cock smacks against her soft, dewy lips like a thunderclap of passion. The shock sends ripples all the way across her face as it curves around the bridge of her nose and plunges off the edge of her forehead.

A warm hum blooms in her throat, cresting into a pleasure drunk giggle as she nuzzles against your shaft.

"Oh fuck," she whispers her eyes dance along your shaft, the glint of held back fantasies glimmer in her eyes. Her hand pumps and twists across your length, extraditing a moan from your lips with her eagerness. Her breath hitches with a hungry excitement, tickling your shaft in between lovingly pressed kisses. "You should've told me, you had such a... fat cock."

She continues, lost in her ministrations, slowly and tantalizingly drawing out your pleasure as you groan against her soft touch. Yet, you can pluck out the fine line edge she balances on, the sound of slick wetness indulged as she pants heavily slapping her face with your cock. "You could've had me anyway you wanted you know?"

It's a feverish, lavish dance of her tongue around your cock, strung together with a primal and wild urgency, as if she would die if she didn't taste you against her tongue. Her lathered spit slowly christens every inch of your shaft, marking it as her territory.

Her gaze is a siren’s call, inviting you to dive into her depths. Her lips akin to silk as they tease the head of your cock

Her hands guide your own cresting through her hair, a silent encouragement to ravage her without restraint.

The sensation is inescapable, as your throbbing cock slipping past her dewy soft lips, plunging into her depths. You can feel the hum of a depraved smile as she gags and chokes against the sheer length of your cock, unable to fully take you.

It's a sputtering cough that echoes from her lips, hazed with watery eyes as she clutches for air.

"Come on, I can take it," there's a flare of a scowl against her teeth. "Don't be a bitch."

She asked for it.

Your hands tighten in her hair as she sucks and pulls in surprise, sending waves of pleasure shooting to your core. She looks up at you through heavy lidded eyes, smoldering with desire. Her fingers grip tightly around your shaft as her muscles contract around you - a gentle reminder that she will never let you go.

You push further into her until you bottom out, her nose pressed to your navel.

You're fully engulfed in heat and wetness as she begins to moan around you - softly at first, but quickly growing louder with each stroke that bulges at her throat.

Her eyes water, brim and swell against the ravaging pressure. She hums, smiles under your assault as the cascade begins, her own twisted badge of pride.

The sensation is overwhelming; a perfect balance of tightness and wetness as she sucks and gags around you.

The echoing sound of ministrations against her own slick heated desire becomes your guiding rhythm, the tempo only increasing with each gag and choke.

Her knees quiver and tremble as you ravage her throat without restraint, a mere tool in the pursuit of your own pleasure.

It only takes one final thrust, deep and hard to send her careening over the edge into a carnal pleasure-filled abyss. She screams into your lap, her body twitching in clear pleasure as wave after wave of her orgasmic bliss crashes against your shaft.

It's a desperate fight to stay afloat, to ignore the call to unload deep within her throat against the crashing waves of her orgasm, but you're after a sweeter prize.

"Holy fuck," she gasps, a hazy smile etched into her lips, she swipes at the stray messy strands of spit. "That was hot as fuck."

You found it hard to disagree, "You're..."

"Kind of a slut?" she adds, a dulcet whisper against your ear. It's hard to ignore the brimming smile.

"I was gonna say intense."

It's a soft genuine chuckle that saunters through the air. "Thanks, I'll take it."

Her eyes drift over you, her warm gaze a caress. She licks her lips and smirks as she looks at your cock. "A shame you didn't cum, the thought of you plastering my face or swallowing all your cum was so fucking hot."

Her delicate fingers entwined around your cock, massaging it with a gentle rhythm as your heart pounded in anticipation. Her eyes roamed yours before she spoke, her voice husky and full of desire. "I can't wait to feel this inside me."

All it takes is one swift move, as you grip her waist pulling her so intoxicatingly close to you, pressing her hips against the edge of the desk. A surprised giggle bounces from her lips as you pull her shorts and panties down her legs. The air crackles with electricity, you catch her rugged eagerness, as her clothes flutter and splay around Chalmun's office.

She's barely able to pull herself up the edge of the Chalmun's desk as your thick cock brushes against her drenched folds. You can see the sparks of pleasure as her eyes flutter shut, arms snaking around you, pulling you closer into her electric gravity.

Her legs shudder and quake as you push deep into her, her breath frozen in her throat as you push harder and harder, deeper and deeper into her.

The desk creaks-you swear it splinters-as you feel her cunt finally take the full might of your cock. It's in her wordless, breathless moments as her eyes roll back with 

half-lidded desire, that you actually feel it, even through the torrential storm that is her she's-

"-So fucking tight."

Her fingers dig into your shoulders as her nails scrape against your skin, any words she has die, caught in clutched needy gasps. But you can see it in the flickering fire in her eyes, the twist of her devilish smile.

Make a mess, break the desk.

It's a feverish dance, the slow build to a crescendo that threatens to drown you in pure bliss. Each stroke punctuated with a resounding slap, a jiggle of her chest pushing against you as she moans in a guttural tone.

"Fuck me, fuck me," she chants softly, her eyes glued to your cock, a needy slut to your pleasure. Your hand grips tight against her locks pulling her into a messy torrid kiss.

She nuzzles into you, her lips are sloppy against yours as you plunge further and further. Her muscles clench tight against you, a fire burning with each pull, each thrust and soft moan. Her nails bite into your shoulders, drawing blood as she pants heavily against your lips.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," she chants against your lips. 

A strangled moan escapes her throat, the intensity of your thrusts increasing as the pressure builds within you, threatening to burst forth. She cries out with each thrust, the sound of your cock diving into her depths, a melody to her ears.

Her lips part with the slightest of breaths, her tongue darts across her bottom lip, a silent invitation to dive deeper. The feeling is visceral as she clenches every inch of her muscles tight against you, a searing rapture that threatens to swallow you whole.

The feeling is overwhelming; a soft and wet embrace as you plunge deep into her. The tightness of her walls around you, as they pulse and constrict around you.

She's barely holding onto her consciousness, her eyes glued to the way her breasts shake and jiggle as you fuck her senseless.

You find it hard to resist the incessant call to cum, burning with an intensity that threatens to swallow your mind whole. Her moans fall into a steady rhythm as you plunge into her harder and harder.

"Cum," her voice a husky whisper, yet tinged with something more, a tempered unexpected softness. It's real and vibrant even in the haze of pleasure. "I want to feel you."

It's needy and desperate.

The feeling is inescapable, the sensation of her tight and wet around you. She screams in pleasure, a shrill moan that pierces the air around her.

The desperation in her eyes and on her lips as you're pressed together was unmistakable; a clash of teeth and tongue full of longing. You feel the urgent desire that emanates from her, radiating into your lungs with each clawed breath.

It was more than just sex at that moment, as her lips nip at yours and her legs clutch and locked around your waist. You can feel the raw emotion radiating off of her, a feral passion that throbs through your veins.

You can feel every part of her body tremble with pleasure as each kiss deepens further.

Your hands caress her neck, exploring every inch of her skin as she shudders beneath you. You feel like you're losing control, giving into the sensations coursing through both your bodies.

The sounds of pleasure that escape her lips become heavy and desperate as the sensation builds inside of you both, an explosion of heat that threatens to consume you.

She claws at your back, gasping for air between breaths as each thrust sends jolts of pleasure through both your bodies.

Her hips grind against yours, pushing herself further and further towards the brink of insanity. Her voice catches in her throat as she cries out for more, begging for release from the overwhelming sensation within.

"Cum for me," she whispers into your ear, her voice dripping with lust, tarnished by desperate and undeniable need.

It's all you need.

A crash of pleasure rocks your core, electric shocks race up and down your spine as you finish inside of her, launching rope after feverish rope into her depths. A moan catches in her throat, hitching with each decadent spurt as she truly gets her fill. 

"Wow," she opens her misty eyes, her lips curled into a hazy smile. "That was... intense."

The warm air around you is a heavy blanket that settles around you both, a contented and satiated silence that settles against her skin.

"Hey," she nudges you, languid in the afterglow. Still, you catch embers of a teasing smile. "I have a question."

"Yeah?"

"Is this our first date?"

[p0plotte]

Wanderer of The Stars

Sweet Tooth - Cavetown

—•—

Perched upon the very tip of a lamp pole was a boy in oranges, greens and whites. Fluffy green hair falling over his eyes, obscuring his face from view to anyone too far below and too high above. He set his hands in his pockets, and used his other to prop his goggles up from his eyes, not resting atop his head.

“I’m kind of nervous, you know?” He finally murmured, glancing to the girl on the other side of the pole, “I don't feel like I can be forgiven..”

He pursed his lips in thought, hands somewhat shaky. To be honest, though assigned female at birth, he was definitely a real boy. He even had the awkwardness of one. But.. if it was the case- Then could he .. actually be forgiven?

Actively sinning, even to a god which didn’t care for him anyway- and .. tossed him and his sister aside.. It felt wrong. The lessons of that shitty God had still been engraved into his brain. Ones he could never easily forget.

His cheeks dusted over with a soft pink hue as he felt a hand take his from behind. Though.. he continued looking onward. He didn't need to see her too well.. ‘see’ her. Sometimes, actions and feelings say much more than sights ever will.

“Well, I think you’ree doin’ just fine..”

She squirmed slightly where she stood. The two Oni, back to back with only a lamp pole to seperate them. As their hands collided a shiver fell down her spine. What a guy!.. They’d been friends since the beginning.

Diana and Xingqiu, the two youngest of the Wind Oni. Both around 12 in human years, and 200 in the world of the dead.

She appreciated how close they were. How much they had in common. She appreciated how Lady Nephele had brought them together in the first place. She was truly the most charitable of the gods.

“Your heart is beating a lot faster now..” She breathed, “Are you okay?..”

“I’m f-fine!.. Just.. nervous, I guess..”

“Well.. uh.. yeah.. sorta..”

“I think you’re the prettiest boy I’ve ever met. You’re the realest one, too.” She hummed, “Who cares what he thought? It’s your life. That’s what Lady Nephele tells me.. Live how you want to. Not for anyone else but yourself.”

The gogglehead’s cheeks burned red as she spoke. He swallowed down the saliva which pooled in his mouth, and slowly nodded his head. His palms began to sweat-

Gosh. He hated when they did that. Attempting to pull his hand away as to not inconvenience her, his eyes widened once she tightened her grip on it. He let out a little squeak..

Sometimes, he thought she was a mind reader.

“Right.. th.. thanks, Diana..”

“Sure! A&F, right?”

“Mm. A&F.”

—•—

[holydramon]

I just realized. Della wears goggles. She’s the gogglehead of the og group....

[rvlyrik]

ok so i have an idea of the archetypal Digimon (mostly based on Adventure) that the main Omori gang would have, plus some ideas about how the AU would work, so lemme type this out and see if that works ig??

disclaimer that i’m depending on what i vaguely remember + their TV Tropes pages for both Digimon and Omori, so apologies if i get a bunch of details wrong from both parts

(especially since it’s been years since i’ve completed the first five seasons of the anime, i haven’t finished season 6 and Tri., and i’m not even past Vast Forest in Omori)

if you wanna add on with more ideas or inform me of some stuff i missed, please ask me in my inbox!

the speculation stuff’s under the cut bc it gets LONG (also bc there could be slight spoilers for the new Digimon game out there)

For this alternate universe, I feel like the plot would have similar initial vibes and entrance to the Digital World as Digimon Adventure, as well as the DARK content that comes later on from Digimon Survive.

Right now, I feel like it takes place a couple of weeks or months after whenever Mari’s death would happen in the game (but it will still happen; it just happens differently), so the whole gang would be present. I don’t really know much about what they were doing before the Isekai plot happens… but a possible plot starter would be the gang going on a trip after SUNNY and MARI's successful recital! So this is (initially) an Everyone Lives AU too!

(another possibility is that this would be a one-off adventure BEFORE the game's events happen, so that the kids are eventually gonna forget about it… especially since it CAN be overshadowed by Mari’s death in the way it happens in the game)

Anyways, speculations for the peeps and their partner Digimon time!!

>> —^— <<

First off, I already decided that HERO would be the resident ‘Gogglehead’, but I doubt that he’d even wear his Goggles most of the time (kinda like Marcus/Masaru ig), opting to put it in a bag or sometimes wearing it on his neck. I also think that the ‘not-wearing-goggles-all-the-time’ thing might allude to Hero not being the main focus of the AU, as well as his personality not being, uh, really energetic & assertive like the other Goggleheads.

In extension of being a Goggle Boy, his partner Digimon would be a reptilian-type, which is somehow the norm for all leaders in the main Tamer teams. However, it’s possible that Hero’s partner Digimon would be more serious & focused on the task at hand than the others. A possible candidate would be Huckmon and its whole digivolution line, with the assumption that its characterization is somewhat similar to the one in Adventure Tri.

>> —^— <<

KEL is another easy one, but like Hero, he’s kinda different from the usual characters that bear the archetype that he has right now. He’s technically a Lancer to Hero, and therefore has a mammalian Digimon partner. Buuut his personality is a LOT more similar to the usual Gogglehead.

I don’t have a specific Digimon for Kel (and for some of the others, too), but a possible personality for it would be that of a stereotypical depiction of a dog since I thought of giving him a canine Digimon to reflect the brothers having Hector back on the Real World. And by stereotypical depiction of a dog, I mean absolutely happy-go-lucky guy with kind of a lack of object permanence and gets easily distracted. I wonder how Kel would deal with that…

>> —^— <<

The archetype I chose for AUBREY before now was her having an avian or bird Digimon, but then I realized… that doesn’t make any SENSE! Like, from what I’ve seen, there isn’t any depiction of a bird motif for her in the game, so I thought ‘screw that’ and decided to give her a bunny-like Digimon!

Methinks the partner Digimon would have a rather child-like demeanor, but it’s also wise for a Rookie level Digimon. Lunamon and its evolution line would be very good candidate for Aubrey, along with maybe Lopmon and its good evolution line? But then again, it depends on whether or not i can get a good look on the List of Digimon—

>> —^— <<

Man, it’s s a no-brainer when it comes to BASIL’s archetype. After all, he’s the plant guy, so why not give him a plant Digimon? Although I gotta admit, I did briefly consider him having an insectoid Digimon for the irony, but I didn't go through with it for reasons I'll explain later.

Anyhoo, the partner Digimon would probably be a snooty type with quite a large ego, despite being only a Rookie Digimon. It also would somewhat unintentionally put others down to bring itself up, much to the other Digimons' chagrin. Not sure what to pick for Basil's partner Digimon, though...

>> —^�� <<

Next up is MARI! I'm gonna give her a Digimon that eventually evolves to a Holy-type, but I do desire to make a cruel joke and give her a partner that is related to the Leomon-species... or I could give her a ghastly or spirit Digimon to foreshadow some stuff…

Her partner Digimon’s personality would be, er, probably loyal to Mari (but not as intensely loyal as Kel’s Digimon), but it doesn’t regard its own safety to protect others. This could be an important plot point in the AU, where Mari is EXTREMELY concerned about her Digimon’s sacrificial protector attitude.

>> —^— <<

And then there’s SUNNY, the main character of the game, and in extension, this AU. I thought about his Digimon’s archetype a LOT more than the others, and it’ll show in this description. I think he’ll have an overall dark or demonic Digimon, but its personality is not like that at first, having a child-like curiosity, paired with being very soft-spoken and outright mute at times. Tsukaimon would probably be his Rookie, but its evolutions are… more complicated than that.

You see, I first thought about his Digimon’s Champion, Ultimate, and Mega forms to correspond with the fears that he has to overcome in the game. While this fits with the randomness of some Digimon evolution lines, it still doesn’t make much sense in a way.

And then I remembered how Gammamon evolves in Digimon Ghost Game, having four different Champion forms, which are used depending on the situation at hand. Sunny’s Digimon would evolve somewhat similarly, with one Champion form and three Ultimate forms that correspond with each one of Sunny’s fears. They could also fill in the rest of the archetypes, with the avian, insectoid, and aquatic Ultimate evolutions.

[digimonloving]

A headcanon of Huckmon/Hackmon with a Gogglehead! Tamer?

Huckmon with a Gogglehead!Tamer

You more than likely were given Huckmon from the one who took to training him first: Gankoomon. He saw potential in you to be able to help Huckmon become stronger in more ways than he could. You have the makings of a great leader among your friends, and Huckmon deserves a partner like that!

The very first thing Huckmon asks about is your goggles. Why do you wear them? A leader trademark? He's quite confused over that. He has his own set that were designed into his cape, so he guesses he can slightly understand wanting to have them around if the occasion calls for it.

This little guy can tend to be a little bit on the stubborn side when he wants to get something done when you're first partnered together. He rushes into battle against tougher opponents without your help, since he wants to get stronger on his own. Prior training from Gankoomon can only get it so far against certain foes, though.

Even with his stubborn side, you have your own as well. You're going to stop at nothing to get this little guy to understand where you're coming from, too! You were trusted to look after him, and do that you shall. Even when he tries to not accept your aid, you're always there to help him if he needs it, along with encouragement despite how many times he tells you he doesn't need it.

But, he can't last long against your ironwill to show how much faith you're putting into him. It starts to remind him of Gankoomon and he can't help but let his walls finally go down after a little while.

After some time, Huckmon tells you of his dream. His dream to become a Royal Knight, like his former master! And it seems like you're the only one who can help him reach that level. He finally recognizes why Gankoomon may have given him to you, and so he's going to do everything he can to see it through.

He puts his trust in you completely after that. He discovers you both are quite the team once you decide to finally work together instead of him wanting to go his own way.

He has quite a fun time with you, too! Finally letting more loose instead of being stubborn and stuck-up over things. He still wants to train often, but he starts playing with you a lot more, too, acting how a Rookie level can act. He even naps with his head on your lap sometimes when it's time for a rest, or he curls up beside you to rest, compared to him sleeping out of your reach the first few nights.

The only reason he digivolves is all thanks to you, you were able to show him there was so much more than just fighting to get stronger as a being, something he lacked in understanding. He can't thank you enough for helping in getting him a step closer to his true dream.

Your strength is his, and he uses it very wisely. able to protect you and your friends from great harm with many of his skills.

He doesn't leave your side, now practically joined at the hip as some would say, your personality even rubbing off on him a bit more as he becomes more gentle and easy to make laugh. His stubborn side is still there, but it's just the same as yours. Once you both put your minds to something, you won't stop till it's done!

[kiwi-draws]

if you were a diginon protagonist would you be a gogglehead or one of the other kids

i feel like im silly enough to be a main protag! plus i want goggles :)

[typhos-c-dragon]

Can you tell us more about Hannah in this au?

Once Hannah got her Digivice, she became the first Tamer in Hatchetfield. Because of this, a lot of less-than-benevolent Digimon that have appeared in town have deliberately tracked her and Webby down, looking to fight her and see if she really "deserves" that title. Webby- being very strong and very protective of Hannah, often takes them out pretty quickly. Hannah and Webby's bond is very strong, enough for to catch MacNamara and Silphymon off-guard when they eventually arrive in Hatchetfield. Mac and Silphy have been partners for 13 years at that point.

I consider Xros Program to be an ensemble piece with no de facto main character, but Hannah is the closest thing the story has to the Gogglehead Protagonist*. The goggles originally belonged to Ethan, but he gave them to her once bad/corrupted Digimon attacking her and Webby became a regular thing. Just as something to protect her eyes when debris starts flying around during fights. She's a little skeptical at first, but Hannah soon grows to really like the goggles, even wearing them perched on her head outside of fights.

*Almost every main human protagonist in Digimon- or at least in the animes, wears a pair of goggles on their head. Tai in Adventure, Davis in Adventure 02, Takato in Tamers, fuckin' What's-His-Name in Frontier, and Mikey in Fusion. The only anime exception that I'm aware of is Marcus from Data Squad. Whether or not they actually wear the goggles over their eyes at any point seems to vary. Iirc, Tai never has the goggles over his eyes, Davis does it once or twice, and Takato does it several times. I haven't watched Frontier or Fusion (if the fact that I don't know the name of Frontier's main character didn't tip you off), so I have no frame of reference there.

[erintoknow]

together, we break the rules

been having fun talking about an atla au with my friends;

wrote another piece for it. anita is @dorkousloris‘s oc, logan is @hotlineaisui‘s oc, lyn is @queenofthieves‘s oc, zia is @ratkingkisses oc, finally, angel and cerise are @frozenabattoir‘s ocs.

---

“Why are there so many soldiers in this town?”

��It sounds like they caught a witch in the area recently.”

“Witch what?”

“No, like– a witch, witch.” Ari frowns, one hand firm on her mug of tea. “Like– spooky lady kind.”

Anita leans in over the table, eyes wide. “That’s a real thing?”

“No… No it’s not.”

“But why would someone…?”

“Oh, I can think of a few reasons…”

As soon as the pair finish their drinks, they leave the tavern in huddled conversation. The waitress wonders is maybe she should tell someone what she overheard them discussing but… the one with the goggles did tip well. Whatever, the town is crawling with soldiers.

Ari glances around the street for listening ears as she and Anita walk back to where Bugbear is waiting on the town outskirts. “You s–sure you want to d–do this?”

Anita nods, squaring their shoulders. “We gotta! They’re going to kill her.”

“Glad w–we agree.” Ari pats Anita on the back. “We b–better make sure we’re ready. This is going to–to–to be even worse than when we tried to free those lemurs awhile back.”

Anita nods, then picks up the pace as Bugbear comes into view, snoozing under a tree. “Bugbear!!” The beardog picks his head up with a happy ‘bork, bork.’

Anita runs a hand through Bugbear’s fur, “I’m a lot better with that Bo staff now, we can do this.”

Ari comes to a stop before the two of them. Bugbear cranes his head down and with a anxious hand Ari gently rubs his muzzle. “We just need to jump in there, grab the, ahem ‘witch’ and run the heck away.”

“What could go wrong?”

“You had to ask, didn’t you.”

–

“You ready?”

“Y–yeah.”

Anita leans down to whisper into Bugbear’s ear. Ari clenches her eyes shut in a silent prayer as Bugbear lumbers to his feet. Not far in the distance, a pair of earth kingdom soldiers stand ready at the gallows. Their attention is focused on the woman being half walked / half dragged to her fate. Head held high, not sparing a glance for the crowd lingering behind that’s gathered to watch the show.

How many soldiers? Six? No eight, there’s two more at the rear. Ari has to assume they’re all earthbenders. Not great odds, even with Bugbear to tilt the scale. “W–we got to try.”

Anita nods and with a word Bugbear leaps into the sky, over the crowd.

The crowd erupts into screams as they land, Bugbear flattening the guard holding the ‘witch’s’ chains into the ground.

A gout of flame knocks the second guard off his feet and into the dirt. Ari ducks her head as Anita tries to calm Bugbear. “Holy shit! F–f–firebenders!?” Search the crowd and – there, two of them. Headed straight for them through a parting in the crowd.

And that’s when the boulder connects with Ari’s shoulder sending her spinning off Bugbear and into the ground.

–

It had taken most of the night to work out the plan. They needed to hit at just the right moment in order to take full-advantage of the surprise. Running through every possible scenario, drawing out a plan of attack. Lyn frowns as she looks over the crowd, the armed guards. There’s too many variables, too many of them, and only her and Logan. “You’re sure?” She questions in hushed whisper.

Logan frowns, as if not entirely comfortable with the question. “I can… feel it.”

“Intuition again?” Lyn chews the inside her cheek. That’s not the reassurance she was hoping for.

“Yeah.” Logan rolls a shoulder, feels the joint crackle and pop. “Regret coming with me, yet?”

Lyn shakes her head, “You wouldn’t have lasted two weeks without me.” Smiles.

Logan doesn’t smile back. “Let’s see if we last the next two hours.”

A gasp rises out of the crowd and a shadow passes over Logan and Lyn as they look up. A beardog sails overhead, over the crowd and lands on top of one of the pair of guards escorting the ‘witch.’ Gasps turn to screams as the soldiers rush in, the witch falling backwards in surprise.

“Really.” Lyn facepalms.

Logan laughs as she drops into a firebending stance. “Knew planning was a waste of time.” 

People get out of the way in a hurry as the two firebenders send a burst of flame across the field to knock down the witch’s second escort.

“Holy shit!” One of the two figures atop for the beardog cries out, as she looks their way, “f–f–firebenders!?” Lyn groans. It’s that gogglehead and the airbender they overhead at the tavern last night. What were the odds?

The guards are in combat stances now, one plants his feet and pulls up a chunk of earth. Lyn slides to a stop, cups her hands around her mouth, “Look out you idiot!”

Too late, the boulder goes flying, clipping the woman in the shoulder and knocking her off her ride. The other rider glances back, panicked. “Ari!?” The beardog growls and leaps again, pouncing on another guard as his rider cries out in surprise, desperately holding on.

As Logan rushes ahead, Lyn tears off her hat and pulls back her hair. Forehead tattoo exposed, Lyn grits her teeth as she focuses, hands clenched. A burst of energy collects and then shoots out exploding against the guard that had knocked the rider off, sending him flying and skidding across the grass.

Logan slides to a stop by the woman at the center of the chaos, who was – Logan noted with some concern – laughing. With one hand she reaches down to grab the prisoner by the arm, pulling her to her feet. “Witch?”

The woman’s shock is quickly masked with a cool confidence. “Yes, that’s me. I’m the witch.”

“Are you a waterbender?”

The red-haired woman that had fallen to the ground has pulled herself up with her staff, which she now points in Logan’s direction. “N–n–now hold on, who the hell are you guys?”

–

If Zia was going to die today, then she wasn’t going to give them the satisfaction of begging for mercy. After everything she’d done for this town; the sick she had cured, the injuries she had healed… the dozens of little miracles she had worked over the years as she honed her craft. None of it had meant anything in the end. Just another bloodbender. A nasty ‘witch’ lurking in the forest. 

They hadn’t deserved her.

If Zia was going to die today. Despite everything there remained the conviction; she’d get out of this one. Just like she got out of the last mob. Or the one before that, that drove her from her homeland. Something was going to happen, and she alone would remain standing.

Something would happen, she was sure of it. Even as she was marched through the streets, hands bound in metal shackles before her. Something would happen, even as the crowd gathered to watch. Even as the gallows came into sight. Something would happen.

Right?

A massive brown dog the size of a bear fell out of the sky, flattening the guard holding her chains and knocking her flat on her ass. The crowd erupted into panicked screams as a gout of fire shot out from within the crowd and knocked away the guard that had been following behind her.

Zia couldn’t help the laugh.

Something was happening.

A blond woman slides to a stop in front of her, reaching down to grab her by the arm. Pulling Zia to her feet, the woman looked her in the eyes, “Witch?”

A cold smile formed on Zia’s face. “Yes, that’s me. I’m the witch.”

The woman nods, “Are you a waterbender?”

A wooden staff thrusts in between them and Zia glances over to the owner. A red-haired woman that had been knocked off the beardog. “N–n–now hold on, who the hell are you guys?”

The blond glances between her and Zia. Around them the noise of battle as the other firebender and the beardog try to hold off the remaining guards. A quick moment of mental calculus. “I’m here to rescue you,” she says, looking straight at Zia.

The other woman falters, lowers her staff. “Uh– Okay. Us t–too.”

The blond focus on Zia again. “Are you a waterbender?” She repeats.

Zia smiles and holds up her wrists, still bound together in metal. “Let me out darling, and I’ll show you.”

A shower of stone pelts the three of them, forcing them to the ground, shielding their faces. The woman with the staff hisses through gritted teeth. “Get her loose.” She stands up again, shield her eyes with one arm, holding the staff with the other outstretched. A gust of air blows back against the rocks as she spins her staff.

The firebender grunts and moves towards Zia, and again Zia holds out her wrists expectant. A small flame comes to life in the bender’s hands and begins to heat the metal.

–

“Ari!!”

Anita cranes backwards, trying to grab Ari as she falls to the ground, sleeve slipping out of her grasp. Bugbear cranes up, borking in surprise and Anita flings herself against him, holding tight. “Hey, hey, easy boy!”

Bugbear borks and leaps, jumping on another of the soldiers as behind them and boom rings out. An explosion? Anita glances backwards to see another two figures rushing them in the field. Oh no, more trouble?

And then one of them turns to face one of the soldiers running down from the gallows and Anita watches the burst of white energy collect against the woman’s tattoo’d forehead before shooting across the field to explode against the soldiers, knocking him back against the wooden structure.

Are they… helping?

There’s Ari, pulling herself up off the ground, while a blond-haired lady in bulky-clothing helps up the ‘witch.’ Wearing armor underneath? Unnoticed by the three, one of the soldiers plants his feet into the earth, pulling his arms back. Antia frowns, “com’on boy!” Patting Bugbear on the side, Anita urges him forward. Bugbear borks and headbutts the soldier, sending him sprawling end over even as his pile of earth collapses back into the ground.

“Yeah!” Anita fist pumps the air, “good work boy!” The sense of victory doesn’t last long. Anita notices the boulder flying their direction just in time to urge Bugbear out of the way. Before the soldier can throw something else, the woman with the tattoo crashes into him with a kick trailing fire.

Who’s still standing? One of the soldier’s bugbear pounced on is back on his feet. With a furious cry he sends a stream of stones and uprooted clumps of earth at Ari, the ‘witch,’ and the mystery blond. “Ari! We’re coming!” Anita urges Bugbear onward again, and they barrel into the man, knocking him to the ground. 

“Ari!” Anita glances back to their friend, “you okay?”

Ari grimaces, nods her head. “J–j–just peachy.”

–

The metal melts under Logan’s flame and finally the chain weakens and snaps in two. She shakes her hand, willing the heat to dissipate faster. “We can do a proper job later.”

The witch nods, a broad smile on her face. “Looking forward to it, dear.” She rubs her wrists, flexes her fingers as Logan steps back. “What’s the escape plan?”

Logan frowns, looking over her shoulder. The crowd has dispersed now. In its place a contingent of soldiers is marching down the street towards them. “…run?”

The witch’s smile melts. “Run? That’s your best idea?”

“Yeah well–”

“That was our plan, alright.” The airbender with the staff approaches the two of them, alongside the beardog and it’s rider.

Lyn runs over to them, pulling her hat back on. “We need to go!”

“Just a moment, lovelies.” Witch steps forward, twisting her hand. Around her the grass browns and withers in a widening spiral, beads of moisture collecting into a ring around her. With a flick of her wrist the water collects into an arc in front of her and cascades out in a sheet, turning into ice as it goes and rising into a rapidly thickening wall between them and the incoming soldiers. “There, as you were saying?”

Logan glances at the gathered crowd, then up at the beardog. “Can we all fit on that thing?”

The rider pulls at their goggles, counting with one hand. “Mmmmaaaybe?”

“Then we’re doing it.” Logan gestures them to get moving, “Everyone on the giant dog. Go, go, go.”

The witch falters, “R–really now?”

Lyn glares at the woman, “if you think we’re leaving you behind after all this trouble…”

A smile pulls on Logan’s face, “No sense hanging around here.”

“Ugh.” A look of resignation passes over the witch. “Very well.”

–

Angel lounges in bed, one arm behind her head, the other hand snapping a flame on and off, on and off. When the door opens, she watches with mild disinterest as her bodyguard enters the room.

Cerise puts her hands behind her back. “Mistress, we have a new report.”

Angel sighs, rolls her eyes and dismisses the flame with a wave of her hand. “Well? What is it?”

“The false avatar has been spotted in Zhang this time.”

Angel groans and runs a hand through her hair. “Tell me, Cerise, why is it that our little imposter has to go to most backwater boring places imaginable?”

“She’s likely attempting to keep a low profile.” Cerise pauses, frowns. “Well, until now anyway.”

“What is the point of impersonating the avatar if you don’t milk it for all it’s worth?” Angel stands up and stretches a hand up towards the ceiling. “I’d thought volunteering for this would mean I get to see the world, drink the best booze, find the hottest people… “ Cerise winces. “All on the Fire Lord’s dime! But what have we done so far?” She clenches her hand into a fist and brings it down hard, a wisp of flame trailing after it. “Slummed it in port towns! Harassed podunk villages who can’t even read! Argh! It’s so boring! I hate it!” She stamps her foot.

Cerise keeps her face blank. “That must be incredibly hard for you, mistress.”

“Truly, you have no idea.” Angel laughs. She stalks over to the map unspooled on desk by the door, “But you know what?”

“What, mistress?”

Angel puts a finger to the map tapping the island where they started then tracing a line across their path in pursuit of the imposter avatar. “Do you see what I see here?”

Cerise steps closer, frowning as she does. “I… no.”

“It’s a straight line. A straight line to where?”

“Ba Sing Se.”

“Ba Sing Se.”

[firstagent]

Here's a crossover rank for you: all the goggleheads in an all-out-brawl with each other, using their own fists, kicks and whatever dirty tricks they can think. How well would they do? We all know Masaru will win and Haru gets knocked out pretty quickly, but I'm curious how the others would do. For the sake of fairness, everyone is about the same age and Takuya can't evolve.

Time to do this! No Items, Final Destination! Let the fight for the Golden Goggles commence!

Going in order of who gets knocked out first because drama.

(Everyone please note how Anon here left no ambiguity over whether Masaru counts as a gogglehead. Someone knows the score.)

9. Tagiru (Tagiru would actually be in the top half in fighting ability if he had any tact. Instead he picks out who he thinks is the strongest fighter and charges. Nobody targets Masaru for a while)

8. Takato (Finds it hard to stay out of trouble once everyone gets going. Gets an opportunity at a cheap shot on Taichi, but hesitates just long enough to get walloped by Daisuke)

7. Haru (Does very well to avoid danger while not looking like he’s avoiding danger. Doesn’t attack anybody. Takuya spots him, sees an easy target, and peels off to take him out)

6. Daigo (Yes, I’m including him. Save it. Curses his fate for being included, but sucks it up and scraps anyway, more than holding his own until he somehow winds up in front of Masaru. Next!)

5. Takuya (Definitely not shy about getting in there, but careful to avoid confronting Masaru and picking easier targets. Ends up double-teamed by Taichi and Daisuke. Goes down calling teamwork a dirty, dirty trick)

4. Daisuke (Forms an unspoken team with Taichi for self-preservation and does very well until the numbers start dwindling. Then Masaru becomes harder and harder to avoid)

3. Taichi (Taichi works with Daisuke for survival and avoiding Masaru. Once it was unavoidable, made sure Daisuke was closer)

2. Taiki (Ultimate combination of strategy and ability! Once Tagiru made himself an example, Taiki positions himself to only deal with one threat at a time, while conserving energy to stay in the game as the others take themselves out and wear themselves down. Uses just enough guile and power to give Masaru a hell of a fight once it’s one-on-one)

1. Masaru (But who are we kidding? Masaru doesn’t panic, absorbs a few jabs, lets Taiki dance around, then stuns him with a clothesline and knocks him out with Just One Punch)

Masaru is the ultimate champion! He gets a few moments to boast about his superiority and prepares to don the Golden Goggles when…

0. Rina (Don’t ask her where she came from or why she had a Final Smash attack. She doesn’t know. But those Golden Goggles were shiny and she couldn’t resist!)

Want to support my site and/or my work? Buy me a coffee!

[florencetheflowerfairy]

@transkoushirou replied to your post: i know it would've caused an absolute fandom meltdown, but i really feel like the person who should've taken the goggles was meiko - her arc has been the most in line with 'becoming a gogglehead'.

That would have been awesome! :)

I think that there are two ways of looking at the goggles here: symbolically and literally. Symbolically, we know that the goggles mean “leader” or “protagonist” or “the one who takes action first.” 

Literally, the goggles are the only item that Taichi leaves behind when he disappears. For all the characters know, he could be dead and it is the last remaining part of him.

From a symbolic point of view, it would have been awesome if Meiko had picked up the goggles, since Tri is really all about Meiko and her growth as a person. Meiko and Taichi were also the two main characters of Symbiosis. And ultimately, whether or not Tri will be a worthwhile story to me depends on whether Meiko is allowed to “take action” and be her own hero in the final movie.

In the tags in my post, I was trying to shift the focus to looking at the goggles literally. Even though it may make more sense from a narrative standpoint to symbolically give the “action goggles” to Meiko or Yamato or Sora -- from a moral standpoint, it feels wrong to me that they don’t give the goggles to Taichi’s family, his sister, Hikari. Like, if something bad happened to me, then I would want my possessions to go to my younger sisters. 

Since Symbiosis came out, I’ve been imagining how I would have written the final scene differently. I think that giving the goggles to Hikari or Meiko, and having one of them take action at the end of their movie to go save Taichi and the world, would have been a more hopeful ending. I would have preferred that.

[ladykiradevimon]

Miyako in Digiland: Chapter One

It all started with a proposal. The young Lord had made up his mind, and he and his mother made their plans. He was going to marry Miyako. There would be no ifs, ands, or buts about it. All she had to do was say yes at the engagement party. Everyone was there, everyone of importance, anyway. The young Lord and his beautiful would-be fiance swept around the dance floor, at least, would have, if Miyako's head had not been in the clouds. She didn't want to be here, didn't want to be bumping into people on the dancefloor. "My dear Miyako, where is your mind?"

"I was thinking what it would be like to fly." She said after a moment, frowning at the Lord. Miyako wished she could fly away like the birds. Her eyes caught upon a flash of pale cream and green in the bushes, trailing through the garden as she was. "What was that?" She asked, frowning, following the creature. It continued dashing along, and Miyako lifted the edge of her dress, chasing after the rabbit. They ran to the edge of the hedges, and then the rabbit was gone! Miyako stared at the gap in the hedges, kneeling down, and then she was falling, rolling through space in stunned silence.

When she landed, the first thing she noticed was that she was on the ceiling. The second thing was that she had fallen to the floor, beside a lump of pinkish feathers. It bounced beside her, stirring awake and staring at her in the oddest of fashions. "Miyako?" The little blob chirped excitedly. "Miyako! It is you!"

"Of course it's me. Who else would I be?" Miyako asked, rubbing her shoulder where she had landed hard. The small feathery ball bounced into her lap, chirping excitedly and bouncing up into her shoulder.

"I've waited for you for so long! Terriermon said he had found you! He was right! Come on, grab the key, we've got to go tell BlueWormmon! You've come home!" Miyako frowned, removing the little creature from her shoulder. She got up from the floor, looking around at all the doors.

"Well, how do we get to this BlueWormmon?"

"Through the door!" Miyako tried a couple of them, and found them all locked. "The key, Miyako. It's on the table." Miyako looked back over her shoulder, contemplating. "And the door! It's behind the curtain. Miyako have you forgotten me? It's me, Poromon!"

"I'm sure I remember you, it's just that I never remember my dreams, Poromon. I'm very sorry." She picked up the key, studying it for a moment before she pushed aside the curtain, finding not a door at her height, but one that was much smaller. It was Poromon's size. "I can't fit through this!" Miyako wailed as Poromon darted through past her.

"Grab the drink!" Poromon called. Miyako turned back to the table, spotting a glass bottle on it. She replaced the key as the door fell shut behind her, picking up the bottle and taking a drink. It had said 'drink me' after all.

"Are you sure she's the right one?" Piccolomon frowned.

"Positive. But if you think she's not, be my guest to go back to the human's world and keep looking for her." Terriermon responded. "I spent half a year searching for Miyako."

"What if he did find the wrong one?"

"Impossible, Terriermon is never wrong."

"What if he was this time?" Taichi shot Daisuke a glare. The two were dressed alike, with goggles on their heads and matching blue t-shirts. Beside them, Kiwimon rolled his eyes, clearly unamused by the antics of the goggleheads.

***

Lady stopped speaking, stretching her arms before her in true cat fashion. "So, how is that so far, Poromon?" The BlackTailmon asked with a grin. The two were killing time while their partners were out, and Lady was 'babysitting' after a fashion. She loved the other Chosen Digimon, and she loved them in their in training forms - they were precious and cute and she had a soft spot for babies.

[skythegogglehead]

Why does your username include "gogglehead"? I don't quite get it and am genuinely curious :3c

Hi my name is Sky and I’m a Gogglehead lol. I wear goggles on my head irl hence the username :3 It’s kind of been my thing since late middle school to early high school and it’s been my thing ever since. I even had a nickname in high school as “that kid with the goggles” lmao. And in case you happen to have the question as to why I wear goggles on my head: why not? They’re pretty neat and I use them like sunglasses. Sungoggles if you will.

[canvaswolfdoll]

CanvasPlays: Harvest Moon 64

I have often expressed my nostalgic love for the Harvest Moon series of old, and made mention of Harvest Moon 64 as my White Whale of the series and of video games in general.

So, imagine my surprise when, nearing the end of a rough week wherein I apparently made an accidental blood sacrifice via rotary cutter and a root canal and a half,[1] a port of Harvest Moon 64 arrived on the Wii U Virtual Console.

That same day, I went out, bought a $20 Nintendo Eshop card,[2] paid the ten dollar purchase price, and downloaded the game before I left for work.

Eager to come back to finally dip my toes into the game.

Now, I started with Friends of Mineral Town, which pretty much nailed the series perfectly, becoming the definitive version that modern installments are but pale imitations of. So I didn’t know how the older N64 edition would compare.

Still, I cannot ignore past experiences, so HM64 must be compared to its successors. I will endeavour to be fair, considering its era.

One thing I believe is a fair criticism, even for 1999, is how brown the textures are. The house you live in is composed almost entirely of the same brown wood panelling, furniture decipherable only by their edges, and the sheets for the bed.

It’s a dark, mud brown, too.

The rest of the world is composed mostly of the brown dirt texture. Some grass, sometimes. But dirt prevails.

The limited texture palette makes Flower Bud Village a little drab, at least compared to the vibrant Mineral Town, which made the wise choice of making dirt a tannish yellow color, brightening up the world. Luckily, the creators did learn, and such drabness never returns.

The mechanics, from what I have found, are also much more restrictive than I’m used to. In a bizarre reversal of my mockery of the modern Harvest Moon/ Story of Seasons games’ excessive hand-holding, HM64 gives very little instruction.

Even in the game manual.[3]

For one, there seems to be no way to cycle the items, a mainstay from at least FoMT, wherein holding down a shoulder button and tapping the corresponding button lets you cycle tools or items from the rucksack[4] to your hand. HM64 requires the player to open the pause menu, move the item to hand, then exit the pause menu. And the pause menu is a little sluggish to close.

Also, you can’t hop over single grid items. Or run, for that matter.

At least, I haven’t found controls to do such things.

And time moves fast in HM64. Unmanageably fast! At least time’s still frozen in buildings.

Actually, the biggest weakness of HM64 is the clock. I don’t really know what the real world time to game time conversion is, but it’s clearly faster than FoMT’s one real second to one game minute rate. As the clock is kept on the pause menu, the player can’t easily monitor the time, and so it’s very easy to lose a lot of time.

The worst example of this biting me was on the day of the spring horse race, when I watered three patches of crops (24 squares total), talked to my own horse, then made my way to the event square, talked to some attendees, then had the event end abruptly before I reached the mayor to actually participate in the day’s events. I got so little done, and yet the day was already gone, my opportunity missed.

I can understand not being able to fit everything in a single day; that’s par the course with Harvest Moon and Rune Factory time management. Only so much time to talk to townspeople and do whatever tasks are available; but having to decide between completing farm chores and attending the town festival is unreasonable.

Luckily, later installments have instituted a time freeze when you’re in an event screen.

Just the time it takes to water a couple plants and talk to a horse can take nearly the whole day, and I haven’t even gotten any animals to care for yet! Or even fully explored the mountain. I think there’s supposed to be a mine and cave there somewhere, but I haven’t been able to find them. Because by the time I can get to the mountain, it’s evening, then swiftly dark.

One thing I do appreciate is that tools just automatically improve and level up as you use them, so you don’t need to hire the blacksmith for upgrades and be unable to complete certain tasks as the smith works. I don’t mind the upgrade mechanics of the other games, but I also like the idea of equipment improving as you use it more.

The townspeople are charming, as is to be expected, and most of them avoid the usual pattern of only having two things to say on a given day. Sometimes they have three or more! Really livens things up. However, I haven’t the time to get invested any of them within the terms of the game, instead of through memories of Mineral Town and an old issue of Nintendo Power.[6] With luck, I’ll master the game well enough to become a minor socialite, maybe woo one of the girls.

Obviously, I’m only about halfway through the first spring, so maybe things will pick up as I keep going (because I intend to keep going…),[7] and it does invoke my nostalgia for older Harvest Moon, and it is interesting to see what improvements are still yet to be made. Despite my complaints about brown-ness, it does look really good for its era, and I’m excited to see how the pallet changes with the seasons. The cast of the old classics are nice to see again, shuffled into both different and familiar roles, and the events mentioned by the wiki look to be fun. Still, I doubt I’ll be able to complete the album, since time is not on my side for this game.

So… if you play only one Harvest Moon game, play Friends of Mineral Town which is also on the WiiU eShop. If you're a fan of earlier Harvest Moons, or even the entire series, and like analyzing how series grow, it’s worth its price.

Feel free to message me or whatever, and consider supporting me on Patreon. Who knows, if I actually start raising money, I might be able to afford to stream console games. Then I can do a series on Farming Simulators or something. I don’t know. Power’s in your hands.

Kataal kataal.

[1] I went into a root canal appointment that got downgraded as the dentist worked. [2] Also slowly saving up to buy a Fire Emblem Fates path. [3] Though, admittedly, I still haven’t put much time into the ‘How to Play’ option on the main menu. So… this might be self inflicted. [4] I still love the word ‘Rucksack’. Been wanting a HM-style Rucksack for most of my life. I have one now![5] [5] Still don’t have digimon gogglehead styled goggles, though. Dang. [6] I wonder if that’s at my parents place somewhere. [7] Until I get bored and pick up FoMT again.

[digimonloving]

Thank you for so much for answering my requests 😘 I remembered in Digimon chronicles x that Jesmon has final form called Jesmon GX… so Jesmon GX with gogglehead! Tamer? If that alright.

(Of course! No problem at all! :D)

Jesmon GX with a Gogglehead!Tamer

first part of this ask

previous of this ask

Managing to unlock even further potential from sticking with you and learning so much more, taking to heart Gankoomon's training and mastering each of the rigorous tests with everything you've taught him yourself unleashes this form within him. Even faster than before, his heightened sense of justice shines through even more than before!

His personality doesn't change much aside from that, but he certainly undergoes a change in appearance. He's still very much the same ol Jesmon you had come to enjoy hanging out with and battling alongside. You two made a great team! You really did!

And it was because of how well you both worked together and seemed to be on the same level, as stubborn and hot-headed as you two could sometimes be with each other, but you always worked it out easy enough.

Jesmon GX moves faster than you can keep track of during battles, being a practical blur of colours, if even viewable at all. You didn't think it was possible for him to move faster than he had, since even that was already so quick!

He's a master with offense and defense, able to take to either at the drop of a hat if the situation calls for it, or if he's fighting alongside an ally Digimon and they master one or the other. He can fit himself anywhere in this state, and able to help turn the tides of a battle if his allies fall or weaken too much

having goggles can come in real handy, especially when you're riding on his shoulder as he's flying through the air, not having to worry about not being able to see as he glides swiftly with you, so long as you're alright with it.

Jesmon GX laughs about how, when you both first met, he really didn't like the idea of being "stuck" with you. He wanted to get stronger on his own, after all. But now he can only reminisce all the great times and the cherished memories you both will savor forever, no matter what happens. He appreciates you being his tamer, as stubborn as you can be being a Gogglehead.