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Dressing to Impress (angst)
“Do I look all right? Maybe I need a different tie. What do you think?” — “Arkady, you look amazing!” — “Yeah, but do I look devastating? How’s my eyeshadow?” — “What’s gotten into you?”, Violet says with a bemused chuckle, observing Arkady’s fretful glances in the mirror, while she picks at non-existent lint on her impeccably tailored suit; as they’re rushing out the door a second later, Sana looks back and says with a grimace “Our contact’s Arkady’s ex...”, leaving Violet standing alone at the threshold of the ship, the baffled laughter of moment before sticking thickly in her throat.
The Miniature Golf at the End of the Universe (au)
5/5 star review by customer 'violets_are_pink_purple_and_blue': friendly staff, reasonable prices, good snacks — brought my girlfriend here on a date and annoyed the family behind us when we spent too long kissing by the windmill (she’s pretty patient with how terrible I am at mini-golf…and I wanted to make sure it was worth her while!)
The Wallflower and the Rake (crack)
Miss Patel took a tentative step closer to the large potted palm at the side of the ballroom, but her attempts to make herself unobtrusive were evidently less effective that she had intended, since she appeared to have caught the attention of this season’s most notorious rake; the scoundrel was strolling insouciantly across the floor, heading right towards her — “It is a travesty that I have not yet been introduced to the handsomest young woman of the ton; do allow me to be so bold” — the rogue took Miss Patel’s hand and bowed over it in the imitation of a perfect gentleman, then a pair of devilish eyes looked teasingly into hers — “Lady Violet Liu, Duchess of Higginsworth-Cobb, at your service.”
Arboreal (future fic)
Arkady stretches her fingertips across the rough surface of a tree so large and old that her arms do not begin to reach halfway, and feels herself begin to soften against the bark — there is no need to be tough now; just her, Violet’s warm body pressed into the small of her back, and the expanse of the tree; nothing in the world can take this from Arkady now.
Snow Angels (first time)
The captain had managed to score them an hour at the dome before it opened — something about a case of Earl Grey tea and calling in an old favor; Violet hadn’t seen Arkady frolic before or heard her laugh so freely: a lithe scamper had entered her limbs as soon as her boots crunched on the first drift, and she wheeled and whooped through the fresh powder on the frozen, undulating landscape; Violet stood, marvelling, with a wide grin on her face, then called out, “Have you ever made a snow angel, Arkady?”
Down to Earth (fluff)
Violet slid open the door to her apartment, the warm scent of vegetable broth wafting out to where Arkady stood, clutching the tattered remains of an umbrella and looking back with the liquid eyes of a leopard caught in a thunderstorm; “Why don’t you get out of those wet clothes and into a hot bowl of soup?” Violet said; twenty minutes later, and fresh from the shower, Arkady ruffled her damp hair, reluctantly abandoning an attempt to be debonair whilst wearing Violet’s silk robe — which barely reached past her elbows and was too short for decency; instead, they sat down together, inhaling the spicy-sour aroma of their meal, and Arkady pressed her bare leg against the warmth of Violet’s woollen tights beneath the kitchen table.
Arkady’s Heel (humor)
Few people had ever learned about Arkady’s physical frailties and her general demeanor meant that even fewer were brave enough to mention them, so it was with jaw-dropping astonishment that the Rumor crew watched the first mate scramble out of her beanbag chair and run squealing down the hallway, after Sana leaned over to Violet — part way through one of Brian and Krejjh’s interminable Sh’th Hremreh re-enactments — and said in a faux-whisper “Violet, has anyone ever told you that Arkady’s ticklish?”
Damsel in Distress (hurt/comfort)
“Oww!…Oww!” Violet exclaimed, a sharp gasp hissing between her teeth — “Violet, are you hurt? Is there any blood?” — “Um, a bit, yeah…oww!”; Violet did wonder later if, from a medical standpoint, she should have emphasised that a paper cut was unlikely to be fatal and that the bleeding would soon stop…or if she had indeed made the wiser choice by sitting back and watching Arkady’s abdominal muscles flex as she bandaged the finger with strips torn from the shirt she’d just ripped off her very own back.
Spin the Bottle (smut)
“Just how is that supposed to sound appealing to my brand of asexuality, Liu?” Arkady had said — they’d been spending the evening in Violet’s room, with two bottles of lychee juice that Arkady had swiped from the latest cargo, swapping stories from their profligate youths, calling the whole thing a date — and Violet had shrugged a nonchalant shoulder, shifting her fingers on the bottle she’d just emptied, before setting it in motion with a deft flick of the wrist; Arkady’s breath caught, her pulse quickened and when the bottle slowed, slowed, tilted its open, glistening mouth towards her, Arkady’s lips parted in a whisper, “oh.”
You Got This Thing That Really Makes Me Hot (unresolved sexual tension)
Music is blaring through the arena as the jammers line up, eyeing each other; Arkade Fire is known as the toughest in the league — all elbows, heavy eyeliner and a smirk that either grates on her opponents’ nerves or makes them wet — but Violet Bruise’s low centre of gravity often gives her the edge (she’s so small and round and cute that nobody considers her a threat until it’s too late); “think you can catch up to me, sweetheart?” Arkade Fire says, cocksure, and the answer Violet Bruise gives is half-way between a growl and a moan… and, after the referee’s whistle, a brutal hip to the upper thigh: half a second into the bout and Arkade Fire’s a fawn on skates, legs buckling, feet in the air, landing butt-first on the track; with a surprised laugh, she picks herself up, sore ass and all, and races after the pack; a few more of Violet’s bruises won’t hurt .