do you have a link for tres gracas with english subs? i am not seeing it online but i was immediately curious on seeing gifs lmao
hey, Gemma, so as for the complete episodes of três graças, there's no english subs available, but if you're still interested and want to watch Lorena's and Juquinha's scenes, there's this account on the clock app that has been translating and uploading their scenes with embedded subs. This thread has their scenes and the description of the dialogues as well as their context. And of course the official network account, who uploads their scenes with english and spanish subs as soon as it airs on tv (from monday to saturday at 21:20 pm Brasilia time - except for wednesdays because of soccer games - it airs at 20:30 pm Brasilia time). Since their story just started, all these links and the people who runs them will keep updating as it goes. Hope this helps and if you have more questions, please don't hesitate to ask 🌻
EDIT: A site was created to be easier to find their story as well as all content related to them. Here it is! Also the account of the person that created it <3
want to know your thoughts on gicheol/euijeong bc they were the part of the show that made me feel pyscho lmao
they did that woman so dirty smh that actress got fuck all to do and the little she got was so. meh? I feel like u really could have milked that if ur ambiguously in love with that guy and im ambiguously in love with that guy then who is preserving the sanctity of our marriage vows angle way more??? like thats a delicious set up??? but then she had barely any scenes with ji chang wook or got to react to anything that happened or contributed in any way to the story progression at all. its very much giving we got female characters we don't know what to do with them or how to write them but we do got em. and once an ep they remembered that and gave her like 3 mins where she got talked at by men. bibi was wasted too but she at least had something resembling a story arc and or spark with ji chang wook. but as for in universe reasons the whole underwritten aspect actually plays into my hand because I think we're dealing with a triple threat here: 1. catholic guilt 2. gay denial 3. trying to recapture/finally fulfil that idealised version of the life he was supposed to have. they had like 4.7 scenes of stilted conversation before he was like hey guys look at my future wife over there! u realise u wanna kiss ur new bodyguard a lil bit and suddenly the universe throws ur first love in ur path who is a woman AND a cop. hes like. message received 👍
if i think about aaron taylor johnson as bond i feel sad but if i think of david oakes as bond i feel intrigued. a bond for the indie sad girls. thats not what bond is for but it is in my heart…
and you're absolutely correct !! let the freaky borgia girls have this W like no shade to harris dickinson, aaron taylor johnson, jacob elordi or whatever the fuck. but they upset my spirit the second i imagine them as bond like let's get serious here please...
i would actually love to know your opinion on dave filoni and jon favreau if you feel like dishing
they’re both hacks. i enjoy mando s1 and tcw + rebels despite their (many) faults but i think both men let fan service dictate too much of what they create, particularly favreau. filoni comes off as overly possessive of his characters, especially ahsoka, and i hate that he refuses to let her go. she’s one of my favorite characters but her story should have been wrapped up ages ago. she’s completely unrecognizable as ahsoka from rebels onwards and there’s no reason to cram her into everything.
they’re both boys who got access to the best toys and refuse to let anyone forget it
i really wish the show was clever enough to dissect the ways m*lec's relationship is failing and do something actually interesting with both characters bc my literal thought watching the most recent episode was, you really don't know each other at all, do you? if they explored THAT and moved them both on it'd be um how shall i say it? good. but like it's doubtful (anyway loved your take on it bc it's true and you should say it)
First of all, thank you for censoring the ship name so I don’t have to screenshot and do that whole thing to avoid a certain part of the fandom.
And second, I really wish that too.
I honestly cannot say if I would have shipped it if they had done a better job at presenting us this ship because the fandom is the one that ruined it for me. But I sure as hell would have appreciated it more. Conflicts and apologies are good but only if there are actual steps taken to show growth and learning between the characters. Instead, all I see is how their issues are mostly brushed off. Even when I see some hope of maybe they have learned of something from it, they don’t really. They learn more about each other but don’t really understand each other. That’s the biggest hurdle in the relationship that they never seem to overcome.
Unfortunately, the writers seem to be more interested in pleasing the fandom then creating a wholesome relationship. And as long as the fandom are praising them, they will continue to pat themselves on the back.
oh hell yes! do 9 for jonathan/simon (vampire kink! vampire kink! vampire kink!)?
9. Bloodplay. hooo boy well. that sure happened. in spades. @elektra-natchioss it finally happened.
Vague setup for plot: set in COLS, Simon goes in place of Clary because the Mark of Cain can blow anyone who messes with him to shit, Jace is out on an ~errand~ when Simon realizes he forgot to pack blood. Sebastian has an idea.
“No,” said Simon. “No, no, no—that’s Spanish for no, by the way—no, and no. Absolutely not. Categorically in no universe will that ever happen, and I say that taking into account the multiverse and string theory or whatever. Seriously, no freaking way.”
Clary’s weird demon brother sighed, kicking up his (unfairly) long legs onto the fancy glass coffee table. He wore his shoes indoors, which Simon’s upbringing in his mother’s and grandmother’s home could hardly begin to fathom. Still, the aforementioned shoes were also fancy and the pointed-toe kind that made his legs look even longer, especially in those slimming dress pants. Had Simon mentioned that was unfair? “Be my guest, starve yourself to death. I hear the last throes of death by blood starvation are the best—rattles, shakes, uncontrollable thirst for blood. Maybe you could even hold out until my angel brother returns and attack him like a wild animal. Would make a very good home video.”
He held up his phone, a slim black iPhone X, then put it down on the coffee table and relaxed back into the black leather couch with a distinctly superior air, bringing his glass of wine to his lips (Simon was starting to think he had a serious day-drinking problem). Simon stayed mutinously silent for a few moments, occasionally breaking his deliberate lack of eye contact to shoot a glare Sebastian’s way, then finally broke down when the silence—and Sebastian’s all-too-knowing gaze on his back—was too much.
“Fine, say I believe you and there’s really no blood donation places I can get blood at—which I really don’t, by the way. How can I know your blood won’t like…hurt me, or something? Maybe you just injected holy water, or something.” Simon wasn’t sure what the Mark of Cain’s policy on ingested poisons is—would he projectile shoot venom Sebastian’s way if he was poisoned? If so, he was definitely going to have to avoid that one. It sounded very traumatic. Unfortunately, the Mark didn’t really come with a user’s manual.
Sebastian looked bored, fingering the stem of his wine glass. Simon had to wonder if he’d been to the School For Really Pale Villains, or if it was a genuine affectation. “As I told you before, this is a very old, very Catholic district of Paris. The Jesuits slaughtered the vampires living here, destroying all but the lowest underbelly of vampire society. You won’t find any donated blood anywhere in the city, I’m afraid.” He took another slow, measured sip of wine. “As for my blood, you’ve already drank it. Surely a few sips more can’t hurt.”
“Yeah, and it tasted like shit. No offense,” Simon added quickly. Telling someone their blood tasted bad had to be rude, right? Especially when the bloodletting altercation in question…hadn’t exactly been pleasant. Still, it had tasted like battery acid, harsh and acrid, burning at Simon’s tongue. Definitely worse than the medication Simon had to take when he was eight, which up until that point he’d thought was the worst tasting thing in the world.
Sebastian lips turned down into a bemused smile, and before he even opened his mouth Simon knew he was being patronized. “You really don’t know? Blood only tastes like what it carries—hormones, vitamins, nutrients, toxins. Taking a bite out of someone in battle when the stress and aggression is high is going to be much different than biting in bed when…” His eyebrows raised, suggestively. “Well, you know.”
Simon did not, in fact, know this, mostly because he’d never fed on a live human (except that one time. and that other time. and okay it kind of happened a lot but always not his fault). Still, it made sense, even if the source was dubious. Moreover, he was curious how Sebastian knew so much about vampire feeding. Maybe he had a vampire friend. “Really?”
“Mmm hmm.” Sebastian was clearly enjoying telling him things he didn’t know, stretching out on the sofa like a very self-satisfied (and skinny) white cat sunbathing. “Come on, just a little sip. Maybe it’ll last you until Jace is back, and we can take the apartment anywhere your delicate little conscience wants to eat.”
He had a point. Surely a little sip couldn’t hurt when Simon had already chugged a fair bit of it, (never mind that was basically frat boy logic). Also, he was really freaking hungry. His stomach didn’t rumble anymore—which was good, because as a living human stomach Simon’s stomach tended to embarrass him by making loud noises at the most inopportune moments—but if it did, it would be rumbling now. Also, the mental image of throwing himself at Jace the second he opened the door was too humiliating to bear. Surely he’d make fun of Simon forever and a half.
“But what about Jace?” Simon asked. “Won’t he, like, start gushing blood too, what with the—” Simon bit down on the words creepy demon ritual bond and added, hurriedly, “Twinning thing.”
Sebastian gave a bored shrug. “He should feel a pinch when you bite, but not much more. We don’t share all our papercuts, you know. Just major injuries, or life-threatening ones. Besides, my blood replenishes faster than his does. He won’t notice a thing.”
“Fine. One sip.” Simon felt like he was giving in way too fast, but he’d always been bad at pretending to be above these things. Awkwardly, he took a stuttering step towards the couch, then faltered. Sebastian gave him a smug look and moved over so that the couch cushion he’d been on previously was free, patting it with a pale hand. Simon sat, trying not to let his apprehension show (and failing). He looked at Sebastian’s hand, trying his best to keep his fangs from snapping out at the sight of the tiny little veins pulsing in his wrist. “Um, should I—or—?”
Sebastian looked amused, pulling open his collar. Simon could feel the heat and smell of him rolling off him in waves, the fresh pulse of life just under the surface. Since when did he freaking talk that way, anyway? ‘Fresh pulse of life?’ Get a grip, Lewis. You’re not in Twilight erotica. Simon forced his thoughts away from Twilight erotica and back to Sebastian, who was now uncomfortably yet tantalizingly close. Simon could make out every single one of his extremely long, translucent lashes. His nose was weirdly sculpted, like he’d had plastic surgery. The thought of Clary’s weird demon brother having plastic surgery was too much and he snorted, just a little.
Sebastian looked annoyed. “Is there something funny?”
“Um, nothing,” Simon assured him, very quickly. “So, um, wrist or arm or…?”
“Don’t be silly.” The superior tone was back as quickly as Sebastian’s face had flashed its annoyance. “Blood fresh from the heart has more nutrients. Everyone knows that.” He moored his wine glass on the table and pulled back his collar, exposing the long, pale column of his neck. His voice was weirdly soft and his gaze unusually intense when he said, “This will sate you most.”
“Oh,” said Simon. Sate was definitely a normal word that normal people used in normal situations. “Right, yeah, um, totally not weird at all. Gotcha.” He rubbed his hands together, warming them up, then very very carefully put out a hand and laid it uncomfortably on Sebastian’s shoulder. It was warm, and deceptively thin, almost delicate. If he hadn’t seen Sebastian pick up Jace like he’d weighed nothing, he wouldn’t have thought him much stronger than himself—pre vampire glow-up.
Sebastian rolled his eyes and leaned in so that his pulse was just against Simon’s lips, so close Simon could feel his heartbeat against his mouth. It was a weird, electric feeling, and Simon found himself marveling at its slow, steady beat, like a metronome. (His own heart, for the record, was fluttering at breakneck speeds against his ribcage). His fangs slid out, a lot less painfully than usual, and Simon bit down, tentatively.
A sigh passed Sebastian’s lips and salty sweetness exploded into Simon’s mouth, like a kick to the face. He bit down, harder, savoring the blood rushing into his mouth. There was an edge to it that hadn’t been in Jace’s, like the strong sharpness of vodka, mixed with a strange undercurrent Simon couldn’t place, but it tasted good, nothing like the harsh metallic taste of before. He drank and drank, but it seemed no matter how much he got it still tasted so good, nothing like the microwaved bagged stuff he got at the Hunter’s Moon.
Dimly, he could feel Sebastian shift against him—without any urgency. Simon groaned internally, the way he did when he didn’t want to get out of bed. If Sebastian wanted him to stop, he’d stop, but he really didn’t want to.
A languid sound vibrated in his chest and belatedly Simon realized Sebastian had made it. Something between a sigh and a groan, a sound of–pleasure? Was he enjoying this? A curtain of fog lifted, Simon’s mind spinning out. He felt Sebastian’s hand bump his knee and—
“Holy shit are you—are you touching yourself?!” Simon could hear his own voice scale an octave as he jerked back, and hated it. So much for magical vampire ‘no voice cracks.’ “What the hell, dude?”
Sebastian smiled, in the least comforting display of human emotion known to man. His blood was trailing down his neck in dark, tantalizing rivulets, seeping into the crisp white of his dress shirt. No blood, not even arterial blood, was this dark. His gaze was waaay too intense and his voice shockingly husky when he said, “Please, daylighter. Don’t tell me no one has given you a full-course meal before.”
“Um,” said Simon. Apart from full-on admitting to Clary’s (weird) older brother that he was a virgin at 19 (awesome!) and hadn’t really done anything except one very unfortunate makeout session behind a shed when he was 15, he didn’t see any way out of his ignorance. Hadn’t Sebastian said something about physiology affecting how blood tastes? “No offense, dude, but usually when you’re like, eating a steak or whatever, you really hope it isn’t jacking it at the same time, you know?”
There was a ‘beating meat’ joke in there somewhere, but Simon didn’t trust his current presence of mind enough to find it.
Sebastian seemed unaffected by his protestations. “You’re not eating, you’re feeding—on a living, voluntary participant. A performance of two parts, if you will.” He leaned in, and Simon had to pull back at the smell of blood to keep from clamping onto his neck like a very handsome, dashing leech. He traced a finger down Simon’s chin, pulling back his fingertip with a droplet of his own blood. He sucked at the tip of his finger, and Simon’s stomach did a strange little flip he did not want to think about. “So if you don’t mind, you keep to performing your part, and I’ll perform mine.”
A large part of Simon’s brain was screaming to lick up the blood dribbling perilously close to Sebastian’s chest—when had his shirt come that far undone?—so he avoided that no-doubt perilous outcome and ducked in and bit down again, grabbing at Sebastian’s back for better purchase. Fresh blood welled in his mouth, the flavor more complex—notes of sweetness mixed with hints of bitterness. Simon did his best to ignore that Sebastian had hiked one leg up to the couch and was teasing his inner thigh with long fingers–probably good for piano playing, some remote part of him thought. His pulse had picked up, though still steady, beating out a slightly more staccato tempo, though his breath felt unsteady as it brushed hot against Simon’s cheek.
He really hoped Jace didn’t come back right then and find Simon with a mouthful of Sebastian’s blood, and Sebastian with his legs…like that. Simon was quite sure he’d die of embarrassment on the spot, Mark of Cain get fucked. He could just imagine Jace’s smirk right now. “My blood wasn’t enough for you, Lewis?” he’d say, probably flexing. “Really, I’m insulted. Also how come I didn’t get this treatment, too? Is there something you need to tell me about our relationship?”
Simon wasn’t at all sure what Clary saw in him, but he had also been pretty sure he wasn’t going to gorge himself on Sebastian’s blood, either, and that had been just about two minutes ago. Maybe Jace would grow on him. Some day. Even though he was technically dead, Simon wasn’t holding his breath.
Dimly, Simon could feel Sebastian shifting around him, and himself pressing into him. He could feel Sebastian’s heartbeat in his own chest, the sensation unnervingly familiar and unfamiliar at the same time, the rush of blood under his skin. Sebastian’s breath was coming fast and sharp, his pulse swift and sending sharp sparks of sweetness into his blood. Simon could feel that he was breathing hard with him, even if there was nowhere for the oxygen in his lungs to go, his whole body throbbing with the heady power of Sebastian’s blood. Far from sating him, the blood had awakened a deep hunger in him, like standing on the precipice hanging over a very long, dark drop.
Simon felt dizzy with it, chasing the sparks of sweetness, Sebastian’s soft sighs falling away into the addictive heat and richness of his blood. That undercurrent of bitterness was back, but instead of being gross it was incredible, a completeness and complexity that made his chest full and warm like a shot of vodka. (Raiding his mom’s liquor cabinet with Clary when they were kids had been a horrible idea). Greedily, Simon bit down harder and Sebastian groaned, his back arching—
Dazzling sweetness fizzled against his tongue, jolting him with an incredible rush. Sunlight sang in his veins, like the first time he’d felt the heat of sun’s touch on his skin after he thought he’d never see it again. Fireworks popped behind his eyelids as he gasped, wholly overwhelmed, against Sebastian’s neck. Sebastian’s taut spine went soft beneath him, his whole body pliable as clay, and Simon was unable to rid himself of the nagging thought that this was what jacking off furtively in the shower felt like, only like twenty times better.
Tentatively, Simon opened his eyes. Sebastian smiled up at him, looking very self-satisfied. He was slumped against the back of the couch, which Simon had pushed him up against. His eyes, normally inky-black and whippet-sharp, were looking soft, a bit hazy—probably with blood loss. Not for the first time, Simon was arrested by the the unnatural whiteness of his hair, like bleached bones. (Simon only knew what bleached bones looked like because he and Clary had once found one on the beach. They had both been very dissappointed to know it was not, in fact, a human bone, but a chicken’s).
Then his gaze turned to Sebastian’s neck and chest and Simon yelped, nearly jerking backwards off the couch; only his vampire reflexes caught him from what would have been a very ungainly and embarrassing demise. Sebastian’s chest was slicked and smeared with blood, all the way to his stomach, his shirt soaked through with spreading darkness. Simon’s own shirt—an Ironman shirt he’d gotten off TeeSpring—was wet and sticky with blood. “Eww,” Simon whispered, pulling the wet shirt away from his skin. It flopped back onto his chest when he let it go, wet and now cold. “Ewwwww.”
“Don’t worry, you’re hardly the world’s first messy eater.” Sebastian’s voice was a bit slurred, his movements slightly sluggish when he reached for his wine glass and drained it off in a single gulp. He smiled, the way one might smile at a particularly lush piece of cheesecake at the Cheesecake Factory. “Feeling better?”
“Um, yeah, thanks.” Simon muttered, a bit shamefaced. Had he gotten blood on the couch? Could you even get blood out of leather? He was quite sure that was a question shadowhunters asked themselves all the time. “Sorry if I, uh, got carried away, or whatever.”
Sebastian gave an abrupt little laugh, turning his gaze up towards the ceiling. “Believe me, I like carried away.”
Simon was silent a moment, trying to formulate the question in his mind. Hey dude, not in the weird way, but did you orgasm and did I…taste it? Again, not in the weird way. “How….how did you do that?”
Sebastian’s lips pulled down into a droll smile, his head lolling Simon’s way on the couch cushion. “My, it really was your first time, wasn’t it?” Before Simon could blush and trip over himself to stammer out a million words, he added, “Perhaps I’ve been a bit dishonest. I’ve frequented many bleeder dens and, ah, perfected the technique.”
Simon knew what bleeder dens were, even if he’d never been to one. Great way to get tetanus, Jace had told him. Also very gross, very Count Dracula. Wouldn’t recommend. He could imagine Sebastian fitting right in, though. So, like a vampire sex club? Clay had asked, and Isabelle had laughed. Exactly like that. “The technique?”
“Orgasm makes the blood incredibly sweet,” Sebastian explained, as if Simon were an idiot. He gave a pointed look downward. “Though I must say you seem to have enjoyed it more than most.”
Simon had the urge to yank off the Seelie ring, lest Clary somehow hear any part of this conversation. It occurred to him he should have done that ages ago, like maybe before the messy blood orgy for two started. How did those things even work, anyway? Yet another thing that didn’t come with an operator’s manual.(Simon was a very firm believer in reading the manual. Clary, by contrast, preferred to play board games without reading the rules).“Oh, um, that’s weird—”
“Don’t worry, I enjoyed it too.” Sebastian leaned in, pressing a paralyzingly light kiss to Simon’s cheek. His hand went automatically to the spot, even as his soul recoiled in horror. Clary had not actually stipulated don’t make out with my evil demon brother, but Simon was pretty sure that was on the unspoken list of friend rules. like maybe at the very top, highlighted in neon, and flashing with a few sirens going off.
He also really kind of wanted to make out with Clary’s evil demon brother. The thought made him despair.
“I’m going to take a shower,” Sebastian told him with a lingering look, standing up with impressive grace for someone who was currently wearing a whole lot of his own blood as a fashion statement. “I suggest you change your shirt, lest my brother return and think you’ve taken to cannibalism. Maybe rest an hour or so, and then I’ll be ready again.” To Simon’s raised eyebrows and wide eyes, he said, with a glimmer of a dark wink, “The femoral artery is a real treat, for both of us. You’ll love it, I promise.”
wait have you already done an anidala rec list??? bc i too have felt this pain
yeah i’ve a couple here here and here
and here are some i’ve just recently discovered
out of the dark valley by irhinoceri
15 years after the events of RotS, Darth Vader discovers a way to time travel backwards through the Force, to the moment in his past he most regrets. This creates an alternate timeline where he has the opportunity to change his and Padmé's tragic fate. But reliving the past and making a new future will prove to be no easy task, and the sins of the father will have lasting effects on the next generation.
stand the hazard by keeliethompson1
A plot from the future to save the past effectively ends Anakin Skywalker's career as a Jedi knight.
one humanoid escapee ( one android on the run) by TardisIsTheOnlyWayToTravel
Palpatine is the head of a crime syndicate. Anakin is the android in his possession who would like to be free, or at least free not to hurt and kill people. Padme is the county sheriff who isn't sure what to make of Anakin and his offer to help bring Palpatine down.
you were only waiting for this moment to arise by jilyandbambi
Anakin doesn't slaughter the Tuskens, Obi-Wan doesn't get captured at Geonosis, and the War doesn't break out when it does, as a result. Now, with some actual time to grieve his mother's loss, Anakin's life may take a turn for the better.
broken hearts by sparklight
Darth Sidious stands to the side as the droids work on his apprentice, and realises he has to intervene if he's to keep him alive.
