Camilla (thecrazyreader)

“Alec looked at her and shook his head. "How do you manage never to get mud on your clothes?"
Isabelle shrugged philosophically. "I'm pure at heart. It repels the dirt.”
― Cassandra Clare, City of Ashes

“Isabelle waved a hand. "No need to worry, big brother. Nothing happened. Of course," she added as Alex's shoulders relaxed, "I was totally passed-out drunk, so he could really have done whatever he wanted and I wouldn't have woken up."
"Oh, please," said Simon. "All I did was tell you the entire plot of Star Wars."
"I don't think I remember that," said Isabelle, taking a cookie from the plate on the table.
"Oh, yeah? Who was Luke Skywalker's best childhood friend?"
"Biggs Darklighter," Isabelle said immediately, and then hit the table with the flat of her hand."That is so cheating!”
― Cassandra Clare, City of Lost Souls

“Isabelle rolled her eyes. "Oh, for the Angel's sake. Look, if there's no other way of getting out of this, I'll kiss Simon. I've done it before, it wasn't that bad."
"Thanks," said Simon. "That's very flattering."
"Well, I'm not kissing the mundane," said Jace. "I'd rather stay down here and rot."
"Forever?" said Simon. "Forever's an awfully long time."
Jace raised his eyebrows. "I knew it," he said. "You want to kiss me, don't you?"
Simon threw up his hands in exasperation. "Of course not. But if—"
"I guess it's true what they say," observed Jace. "There are no straight men in the trenches."
"That's atheists, jackass," said Simon furiously. "There are no atheists in the trenches.”
― Cassandra Clare, City of Ashes

“You’re a heartbreaker, Isabelle Lightwood,” he said, as lightly as he could with her blood still running through him like fire. “Jace told Clary once you’d walk all over me in high-heeled boots.”
“That was then. You’re different now.” She eyed him.
“You’re not scared of me.”
He touched her face. “A nd you’re not scared of anything.”
“I don’t know.” Her hair fell forward. “Maybe you’ll b r eak my heart.” Before he could say anything, she kissed him, and he wondered if she could taste her own blood. “Now shut up. I want to sleep,” she said, and she curled up against his side and closed her eyes.
Somehow, now, they fit, where they hadn’t before.
Nothing was awkward, or poking into him, or banging against his leg. It didn’t feel like childhood and sunlight and gentleness. It felt strange and heated and exciting and powerful and… different. Simon lay awake, his eyes on the ceiling, his hand stroking Isabelle’s silky black hair absently. He felt like he’d been caught up in a tornado and deposited somewhere very far away, where nothing was familiar. Eventually he turned his head and kissed Izzy, very lightly, on the forehead; she stirred and murmured but didn’t open her eyes.”
― Cassandra Clare, City of Lost Souls