isabelle be my wife

Clary and Isabelle kissing over and over again softly. not quite making out yet, and Clary is laying on top of Izzy, shivering just a little because she’s just overwhelmed with the feeling of Izzy’s fingers trailing up and down her sides under her shirt, and lips brushing across hers. Izzy pulling back a little and asking if she’s okay. 

“No, no! I’m fine, just a little cold” and Izzy smiles and pulls a blanket (previously tangled up at the foot of the bed) up and over their heads. 

“Better?” She’s smiling a little, and Clary can’t see her in the dark but she can hear the grin in her voice. They go back to kissing, giggling into each others mouths until neither feels like laughing anymore.


Hannibal - Homages / Influences / Visual parallels

  • 3.07 “Digestivo” - Diabolique by Jeremiah S. Chechik (1996)
  • 3.06 “Dolce″ - The cook, the thief, his wife & her lover by Peter Greenaway (1989)
  • 3.03 “Secondo″ - Suspiria by Dario Argento (1977)

More influences and homages

Ice Breaker


It’s my wife’s birthday!!! Happy birthday @snarkysurana!! You probably guessed but I saved this specifically for today, I was so happy when you said I could write it XD Ily!!! <3

An awkward silence filled the room, thick, heavy and uncomfortable. Raphael sat in the armchair near the fireplace, trying to ignore the presence of the Shadowhunters, knowing they were doing exactly the same with him. It had been the usual fight; it’s your fault this happened to Simon, you don’t look after him properly, we’re better than you because we have stupid tattoos and get to wield stupid pointy glowsticks while you can’t even go out in the daylight. Paraphrasing, of course.

Every few minutes, Magnus sighed loudly, as if to remind them all that they were in his home and being very discourteous guests. He seemed constantly on the verge of speaking, but never did, possibly remembering that last time he had spoken he started off another argument.

Raphael couldn’t help glancing over at Simon. He sat on the armchair beside Clary, knees drawn up to his chest and his chin resting on top of them. The firelight was reflected in the lenses of his glasses which he apparently wore out of habit, because Raphael knew he didn’t need them anymore. Vampire vision was even stronger than that of mundanes with perfect sight.

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