#christ crackers this is too long im so sorry to all my followers

[thebuttsmcgee]

Who do you think will voice broly in english now?

Yo! Thanks for the ask anon! As for the question, uhhhhh. Tbh I'm not too sure. Hmm. I think Dan Green would be kinda fun. Well for us I mean, Mr. Green would wreck his throat if he was Brol. I've seen some other choices too like Kaiji Tang, Robert McCollum and I think I even saw someone say Xander Mobius. One thing I do hope for tho!!! Is that they can roll their Rs when they're screamin like the japanese actor. It feels more feral and like he's losing control which is perfect for Brol when he's fightin, but also hopefully someome with a soft speakin voice for the lil peaceful scenes. I feel like [R E D A C T E D]'s perfomance was lackluster with this Broly. He was perfect with old broly cuz he didn't need to do much besides sound evil. Yea he was great with it but the thing is, I feel meh bout old broly. I loved him as a kid but years later I jus didn't find old broly cool anymore. So I don't put much thought into it. New Broly tho has more character and is actually likable becuz of more than just being "The LeGendAry EVil SaiyAn". Not to shame whoever likes old broly tho I mean I really don't wanna shit on old broly but also I got a lotta stuff to work with. Anways, the English dub for Brol wasn't awful but coulda been way better. Most of his screams were more wails than agonized screams. Brol, when paragus dies (lmao), is feelin way too much emotions. He's heartbroken over the death of his father, he's lost the only person he thought he could trust so far, all the while hes in his wraith form that he is barely controlling. When he screams, it isn't just one of agony and loss, it's of losing whatever control he had over himself and succumbing to his overwhelming power. Possibly guilt too. Bin Shimada I feel nearly perfected this and it made me oof real bad. He turned his screams quickly from sadness to pure chaos. Out of control. Eng one tho just wails which isn't bad or unfitting but he really doesn't sound like he's losin his mind. And another moment that sounded great was after Shenron was summoned, and Brol just lets everything out, he's raging but really? He's desperate. He screams out of desperation to gather what power he has left just to survive. He feels fear and rage. Eng one almost got that but they jus kept loopin the same scream. Which isn't NOT used in the japanese dub but c'mon, this was his real big money shot scream. Last part I'll talk about since this is way too long (Im so sorry seriously) is this moment

Look at him. That is complete fear. He even grew his pupils back outta fear. Bin Shimada did really good with his scream/ gasps. He sounded like he just woke up from a nightmare and is about to face what was in it. Heavy breathing and desperate gasps for air, almost like he was drowning. And the eng one almost got this too! So close! Buuut he just settled for a yell near the end. No gasps or anythin, jus a "wAUEGHH". Wasn't bad, actually kinda good but I liked the Japanese one better overall. Wow, I have gone WAY OFF TOPIC IM SO SORRY. My main point is that I hope it's someone who is close to Bin Shimada's performance but maybe with their own spin on it! Thank you again for the ask and I'm so so so sorry this was too long lmao.

#christ crackers this is too long im so sorry to all my followers #im jus a dumbass...i dunno how to do read more on mobile..also didnt expect for me to ramble on this much #long post #very long post #like wow im so sorry this is a long ask djsvzs #also im reeeally hopin this doesn't start discourse lmao. i liked the eng dub more overall #i jus like japanese broly more than the eng one. not to say the eng one was bad by any means #i jus really liked bin shimada's performance more #anonahma #butts answers #Broly

[gaiuswrites]

yoga!din thoughts:

they've been fucking around for awhile, but only in the studio. never beyond the studio doors, not even in the cramped, single-person bathroom across the hall. their relationship is purely physical—probably couldn't even consider it fwb. he likes her, is irritated by her, likes the smoothness of her pussy. she likes him, is fascinated by him, likes the rigidness of his cock. it doesn't go much further than that.

that all changes when they run into each other at the grocery store.

I-

christ on a cracker here we go. I’m ready to die now. Cause of death, yoga!Din oh NO-

This... I have no idea what any of this is, but Jess and I have been having a good ol’ time with it. I also want to give a shout out to Rachel for always being a rock in these unprecedented times and taking interest in this main man and I’ll probably be sending you similar messages for your masseuse au to torture you and im not even a little sorry about it

(warnings: SMUT, spanking, language, so pls minors, politely, go home thanks)

She always does this—why does she always do this? 

She drifts down the aisles with the practiced effort of a trapeze artist, juggling the load of groceries bundled to her chest.

Get a cart. Just get a damn cart—a basket, something.

But no. She doesn’t. It happens every time: she goes in for one item—maybe two—and two turns to three and three turns to four, and suddenly they’ve multiplied like rabbits and she’s got half the store in her arms.

Trail mix from the bulk bins, almond milk, coffee grounds, bananas, spirulina powder, those delicious chickpea chips that were buy-one-get-one—how was she supposed to just walk past that—spinach, tofu, zucchini noodles, salmon fillets—

And she nearly drops it all when she spots him. Dark hair, dark eyes.

She stalls out, puttering to a halt. He’s reaching into the frozen meats section, rifling through the various cold cuts. She’d recognize the yawn of his back anywhere, the slope of that broad plane— his arms too, how his tricep cuts across the tawny gold. The shapes they can make. 

The positions they can bend her into.

Maybe it’s best if she just turns around now, sneaks away, pretends like none of this ever happened—she could do that. That would be easy—the easier of the two options, to be sure, because the alternative sounds terrifying and messy, and maybe if she just backs up nice and slow—

Din wheels his cart forwards and glances up. Shit.

He’s not sure what he’s even looking at at first. His feet slow, and there’s a groove creased into his forehead, brow ticking down. She’s here— right here in front of him. How can she be here? How can she be anywhere but where he knows her best—knows her at all? Inside that room, woven limbs and sweaty skin on glossed wood floors. How can she be here—outside that sacred space—in his fucking grocery store?

They stare at each other. She breaks first.

“Hi,” she mumbles out, beguiling.

“Hey,” Din responds, gruffer than he means.

“Hi,” she says again, pressing her lips together to hide a smile.

A grin tugs at him too, but he tampers it; they let a silent, pregnant beat pass between them and then—

“What are you doing he-“ “Have you been here befo-“

They’re speaking over each other—nervous and out of step—and they share a huffed chuckle. They’ve never been this before. They’ve always been physical and brash and bold and they’ve never needed words—they’ve shown each other exactly what they meant and what they wanted through touch—and now, when they need them most, they’re at a loss.

“Just getting some supplies,” she answers him with a shrug, causing one of her many parcels to slip from the precarious tower she’s constructed, and Din, ever agile, catches it before it strays too far. 

“My hero,” she quips dryly, gratefully, as he carefully places the package of tofu on top of the heap. He makes a face, wrinkling his nose. “Is that stuff any good?”

“It’s an acquired taste,” she smirks.

He’s closer to her now, less than an arm’s length away, and Din’s eyes flit to the fading mark at the swallow of her neck, peeking up from the collar of her shirt— the mark he left there just days prior, when she ground down on him, supple frame speared by his cock, rocking frantic and needy up and down on him, whimpering hushed noises into the empty studio. His hand splayed the width of her back, cradling her to him as she rode Din, stretching around him fucking perfectly. 

“Fuck, this pussy takes me so well,” he seethed through a clenched jaw, her breasts rutting against his chest with each bounce of her hips. He growled. “You’re so - shit - you’re tight-” 

Din gave her ass a sharp smack before pawing at it, grabbing a fistful of the flesh there and she moaned— she fucking moaned, depraved and oaky, and knocked her head back, lips falling open and eyes rolling shut. Din groaned at the sight—this woman, this fucking thorn in his goddamn side—sheathed around him, writhing as he fucked up into her—and she had the audacity to moan like that. 

“You like that?” He slapped her ass again and she whimpered, clawing at him, tangling her fingers into his hair, nails scraping over his scalp. He had to resist the urge to shudder—snapping his mouth tight around a whine.

Normally, she’d meet him with some sort of resistance. She was cheeky and smarmy and they both knew it—it’s a game they played—perfectly balanced, perfectly opposed. But she couldn’t help it—she was too far gone, too fucked out, and the words unspooled from her lips like yarn. 

“Yes-yes—fuck, Din- please.”

That earned her another swift crack, the pillowed flesh prickling red from the sting of his palm, and it tore a guttural sound out of her, wrecking through her pretty throat. “God, you’re a filthy little thing. So f-fucking filthy for me-“ 

He ripped her orgasm out of her, his fingers snaked between their bodies, furiously working at her clit in tight, wet circles. It felt like a punch to his gut, as her pussy clamped down around him and gushed. 

When he finally came, spilling into her slicked cunt, he had to bite down on her neck just to keep from fucking shouting. 

He tears his gaze off the bruise, returning to her face—and it’s hardly any better. The corner of her mouth has turned up, just barely, the whisper of it wry and aching. That look—that infuriating, debilitating glint in her eyes—has settled and it makes his cock twitch against his jeans.

“Having a barbecue?” she asks, nodding to his cart, the beer and buns and patties there.

He clears his throat, “Something like that.”

Fenn insisted on it—’I’m not wasting the perfect weather. We’re all doing something, whether you like it or not’— He could only fight her on it for so long. Lesser men have tried and failed, and he knew it best to quit while he was ahead.

“Sounds fun. It’s supposed to be a beautiful weekend.”

“Yeah, so I hear.” Din has to fight the roll of his eyes.

The spell had been broken. They’d spirited themselves away—lying to each other and themselves—as if their tryst existed above consequence, above ramification—like they weren’t even real people. Just ideas, ideas they’d fuck and then suddenly and conveniently vanish—out of sight, out of mind; would disappear as the sun that set on them, blurring lines into the dark.

But he sees her here, clumsy willow arms and cotton tee and cut-off shorts and those beautiful fucking legs he loves wrapped around him so much, and she’s glowing despite the ugly fluorescent sheen cast up from the linoleum tile and—

It’s different. She’s different. Fuller. He knows her now—like this. And he can’t unknow her.

His throat bobs. Maybe he should ask her if she’s free. If she’s got plans. Maybe—

“I’ll see you on Wednesday then,” she says, something unreadable in her voice.

Din swallows. He nods. “Wednesday.”

Oh fuck, he likes her.

She tips her head to him, grinning something small, and shuffles off towards the register.

He watches her go, eyes following as she rounds a corner and slips away. She can feel them on her, his eyes, boring into her backside—all the way to her car, through the town, up to her driveway, into her kitchen where she cupboards her groceries—she feels him, the heavy heat of him, melting against her spine.

@djarinsbeskar @frannyzooey @pedros-mustache

#yoga!din #I am unwell #good bye #modern!din #din djarin smut #mando smut #I ain’t sorry #din djarin x female oc #mandalorian smut #thirsty thursday #amirite