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Oh, do you have A Tale of Two Cities?" "That silly thing? Men going around getting their heads chopped off for love? Ridiculus." Will unpeeled himself from the door and made his way toward Tessa where she stood by the bookshelves. He gestured expansively at the vast number of volumes all around him. "No, here you'll find all sorts of advice about how to chop off someone else's head if you need to; much more useful. ↗
I need to know you believe me when I say I love you. That is all." "I believe everything you say," Tessa said with a smile, her hands creeping doen from his waist to his weapons belt. Her fingers closed on the hilt of the dagger, and she yanked it from the belt, smiling as he looked down at her in surprise. "After all," she said, "you weren't lying about the tattoo of the dragon of Wales, were you? ↗
He carried a pipe in his left hand, and as he examined Will at his leisure, he exhaled sending a cloud of sweet-smelling, cough-induced smoke. 'Finally broke down and admitted you're in love with me, have you?'He inquired of Will. 'I do enjoy these suprise midnight declarations.' He leaned against the doorway and waved a languid ringed hand. "Go along, have at it. ↗
He said there are thousands of Shadowhunters, but great love comes once in a lifetime if one is lucky, and one would be a fool to let it go. ↗
He was Will, in all his perfect imperfection; Will, whose heart was as easy to break as it was carefully guarded; Will, who loved not wisely but entirely and with everything he had. ↗
Tessa was laying on her side, her brown hair spread over the pillow, watching Will, whose face was bent over the pages, with a look of tenderness in her eyes, a tenderness mirrored in the softness of Will's voice as he read. ↗
For this I would have been damned forever. For this I would have given up everything. ↗
#love #shadowhunters #the-infernal-devices #tid #will-herondale
–Mi consciencia, –susurró Will. –Tú eres mi consciencia. Siempre lo has sido, James Carstairs. Haré esto por ti, pero primero voy a conseguir una promesa. –¿Qué clase de promesa? –Me pediste hace años que cese de buscar una cura para ti, –dijo Will. –Quiero que me liberes de esa promesa. Déjame mirar, al menos. Libérame para buscar. Jem miró con cierto asombro. –Justo cuando creo que te conozco perfectamente, me sorprendes de nuevo. ↗
Women have been brought up with the false sense that they have all the options in the world. We don’t understand that the culture really isn’t offering us all of these options – there still are very strong pressures to conform. We have to step outside the culture to be able to make choices that will really give us what we want. But we lack the psychic mechanisms to do this, to really choose. ↗
