1 - 20 of 30 Works by Amber
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Allison's hair is luscious but all that activity she does leaves it a little fluffy. Lydia combs through it carefully with her fingers, separating each fine, dark strand, easing apart every knot, her fingers massaging gently at Allison's scalp so that she makes soft, happy humming noises. Lydia tries not to think about how that makes her feel, and tells herself that this is a perfectly normal primate friendship ritual. Grooming is considered the height of bonding activities in the animal kingdom.
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Wichita tips her head, her dark hair wet from the stone cold shower they'd fucking luxuriated in.
"We should get married," she says.
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There's a softness when Linka looks at him, a flaw amidst all that sparkling perfection, and one day Wheeler plans to find it and shatter his little Russian world.
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Derek doesn't really have limits. Not like breakable human people do.
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Nearly drowning at the gates of Avalon has left Arthur with a half-formed need for something he doesn't properly remember, and his quest to satisfy that feeling has him "accidentally" falling into the nearest body of water. Together he and Merlin learn to trust each other, awkwardly figuring out each other's kinks along the way.
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It makes her feel wise, looking at Quinn Fabray and all the mistakes she has yet to make, like looking at her senior prom photo. She'd worn pink. Pink has never really been her colour.
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There's a hundred, hundred ways to deface history.
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Merlin needs to study. Arthur... "helps".
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Tyler once explained to me about hitting bottom, but I didn't understand. "It's only after you've lost everything, that you're free to do anything," he'd said.
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Illyria is a cenotaph and a church.
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There are so many places to jerk off in Camelot if you use a little imagination. And Arthur's grown very imaginative.
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Merlin works in Camelot Massage Parlour, London. This is where Arthur finds him. | 'Arthur' chokes and flushes, as though they're not standing in an erotic massage parlour, as though 'Arthur' doesn't have a copy of Penthouse held loosely in one hand. "I'm hardly trying to pick you up, Merlin." He chuckles a little bitterly. "Look, d'you really not know who I am?"
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No matter how many times people say it, Merlin's not wholly an idiot. He's reckless, clumsy, not very good with consequences, and enjoys sleeping in when he can, but mostly he's just a fool for Arthur and that spills out into everything else no matter how he tries to contain it.
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"Hey," says Firo, shortly after the chaos of gaining his immortality. "Hey," he says, urgent, like it's something important. "Can we still get drunk?"
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The worst part of moving into the ante-chamber outside Arthur's room is the fact that every time Merlin wants a wank he has to consider the fact that the Crown Prince of Camelot is only a boot's throw away.
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Gather ye rosebuds while ye may. | Words are immortal and life is fleeting, that's what Keating teaches them.
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The one where Chris jerks off the to Star Trek XI audiobook (as narrated by Zachary Quinto) – and gets caught. | See, the way this had gone in Chris's head was: Zach brought it up plain to get them out of the awkward corner, and Chris made a joke about mood music — or maybe it should be an ego joke, loving the character a little too much, seeing as Zach has the 80GB evidence right there in his hand — and they got over it. His imagination had not made room for Zach bringing it up in the same tone of voice that had very recently made him come like a teenager.
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Kirk relies heavily on his knights; he likes them the best, the way they seem to move in defiance of the rules, acting on their own strange patterns. Think of them as people, Pike had said, but people could never be chess pieces; they're too complex, too driven, too free.
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Pre-canon. Spirit-senpai is a deep sleeper. | Stein's watched Spirit sleep before, but he still finds the process clinically fascinating; the slow relaxation of the muscles in his face, the flutter of pulse at his throat and breath in his fringe and eyes darting rapidly in REM behind their closed lids.
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Stein's body is temporarily female. He experiments. | "Wh-what the hell? What the hell did you do—" the thought obviously occurs to Spirit that Stein might have done this to himself, deliberate surgery, and he chokes a little before pressing on valiantly. "How did— are those even— No, no, no, this isn't any good!"