#PRINCESS CAROLYN X JUDAH | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

astudyincontrasts · 2 years

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Ok so my brain fog is real today bc awful pain but a friend and I were swapping Viktor headcanons one day specifically of musician!Viktor (and what else he could do with those hands 🤤) and now bass playing Viktor lives rent free in my head so do with that what you will if you feel so inclined. 😉 like idk maybe reader has been secretly watching him play at her favorite bar forever and has been pining….or it’s like a Judah/Princess Carolyn situation and reader has no idea he’s a musician on the side. ^_^

Here you go, Lyds! I’m sorry it’s not terribly heavy on musical details, because while I love music I know precious damn little about making it.

Just some sweet fluff, I decided to give reader a name bc I’m terribly tired of doing y/n stuff but it’s still reader perspective and limited name usage.

Musician!Viktor x Fem!Reader SFW

It was getting to the point you couldn't afford this. Neither your stretched thin budget, nor your sleep-deprived schedule. Not even your liver, to be honest. But each week, three times a week, you somehow managed to find a way to pay the cover charge, afford the three drink minimum, and drag yourself from bed the next morning and back off to work.

It was worth it. Viktor played beautifully. But it wasn't just the music, it was him. That first night you caught one of his regular sets at the bar was purely accidental. It was your favorite spot and once or twice a month you'd stop in, treat yourself, or else swing by with friends. He'd sat down quietly on the tall lone stool in the small cleared space that acted as a makeshift stage near the far end of the bar and in the solitary bright light in the warm, dimly lit space, simply began to play.

It was like that each time. No conversation, no introduction or rambling or belabored explanations of who he was or what each song was about. He simply sat, began to play, and one by one the conversations would hush or lower, the whole place wrapped up for the two hour stretch of each of his sets. He only ever sang along to the last song, and played the same one each time to wrap the set. It wasn't a language you understood, and he sang quiet and low, but oh how it haunted. Raised goosebumps across your skin each time, left scalp tingling deliciously without fail. Mouth parted and breath tight, practically shivering, melting.

It had become like a drug.

The only thing that absorbed your week, the one thing you looked forward to and it was draining your accounts and pressing your time... but you needed it. Craved it. You'd even found the perfect spot, the perfect seat in the house to watch him play, relax and not be bothered by any other single barflies that might be looking for someone to make conversation with or flirt with. And most importantly, you were fairly sure he couldn't see you. Perfectly camouflaged in the sea of ever changing faces and other regulars.

Janna forbid he ever start looking up from that bass and caught you sitting there, rapt, with what you were very certain was an incredibly stupefied look of lovesick adoration on your face.

You knew this was stupid, one sided, and ridiculously parasocial. To entertain such an enormous and painful crush on a boy you knew nothing about - simply because he played so beautifully, looked so lovely sat perched there on that stool with the bass balanced on one lean thigh. He was all long, slim limbs, sharp cheekbones and cut of jaw. Heavy brows that would knit in concentration over the complicated parts of songs or lift in unapologetic joy at the lilting melodies.

The warmer nights he's roll up sleeves to his elbows. Rid himself of his tie. And you could sit there, nursing a cool drink as you watched the little trickle of a bead of sweat trace its unhurried path down his forehead, down between brows to roll along his nose and hang shivering off the end of it before dropping away.

To say nothing of the ones that ran down alongside his ear, trickling along the perfect hook of his jaw down along the lean column of his throat only to disappear into the dip of his collarbone just visible in the part of his shirt. Oh, to be able to chase such lucky things; to catch salt on your tongue and taste of skin. To have them drip down upon you with him braced upon elbows above, those narrow hips fitted neatly between spread thighs.

It embarrassed you, how much you wanted him.

You'd never had such a silly crush before. Never let yourself get so wrapped up in anyone that they were all you could think about, that you couldn't sleep at night without indulging in at least one little fantasy of them. He was ruining you, stealing your sleep from staying up late to catch each set and then even more, every night, moans soft across the pillow, thighs shivering out tension with no one between them, nothing but your own fingertips and the cycle of fevered fantasy of his mouth, his hands, his tongue.

His voice in your ear.

It was one of these sticky hot summer nights, and it had already got off to a terrible start. Held late at work, crosstown traffic terrible, a long line at the door of the bar. Your favorite spot had been taken, and you weren't sure how you were going to afford the three drink minimum tonight. You'd skipped your morning coffee and head had throbbed half the day to thank you for the caffeine withdrawal. It was time to accept you simply couldn't keep this up. It wasn't healthy, it would never go anywhere, and what had begun as a delightful indulgence had instead begun to hurt.

Glaring cold jealousy at the unassuming people who'd managed to nab your favorite spot you instead took a seat at the bar and ordered the most refreshing drink they had; laced with thin sliced cucumber and botanical infused vodka, positively crammed with ice and sparkling with the effervescence of charged water. You toyed with the little yellow nasturtium flower that came perched on the top of it and sipped slowly. Very slowly.

“That looks delicious.”

Already having suffered a frustrating day, sitting in simmering in anger over having your comfortable plans ruined, miserable over being ready to shake off this silly crush and preparing to face the inevitable discomfort of having to stop all this madness, ween yourself back to a normal life, all of it compounded by the aggravating heat, you felt your temper spike hot and sudden at the nerve of some random man moving in to flirt with you. Rolled eyes to yourself and clenched jaw before the hand holding the little yellow flower hit the bar and your turned sharply to tell the owner of that voice to piss off.

Only to be met by a soft, fox-sly tilt pair of golden amber eyes under familiar dark brows.

And your heart stopped. Stumbled, stutter-started and tried very hard to both climb up into your throat and simultaneously drop into the pit of your stomach, leaving you reeling. And he smiled, cupid bow shape of his mouth canting ever so slightly higher at the edge that a little beauty mark graced. That soft gaze of his strayed to your glass before it rose to catch the bartender, and he lifted a single elegant finger to order the same drink for himself.

Apparently undeterred by your awkward silent ogling about ten inches away from his face, he turned back to you with that warm look again. Your body forgot it had legs, limbs, internal organs or anything more than the panicked hammering of that treacherous heart and hard static buzz of your brain short circuiting. He nodded at the little flower you held.

“Did you know those are edible? My grandmother used to grow them in a little box outside her windowsill.”

Your attention strayed to the small flower whose stem you were currently crushing between thumb and forefinger. And then that vaporlock finally broke in your brain. Let you breathe a soft laugh that thankfully did not sound as unhinged as you felt.

“You’re putting me on.”

The bartender delivered his drink and Viktor plucked the little flower in his up, stared you dead in the face, dare accepted, and popped it whole into his mouth, chewing thoughtfully as that smile grew and you watched him incredulously. Just waiting for him to give up the game, spit it out sputtering and laugh at having his bluff called. Instead he swallowed happily, the lovely rise of that adam’s apple in his throat moving enticingly against the open part of his collar - no tie tonight - and took a slow sip of his drink.

You eyed your little flower and lifted it slowly, paused to narrow gaze at him before you bit one petal off. It was edible. Peppery, like bitter lettuce with a finish like fresh scrubbed carrots. You felt your brows shoot up and heard him laugh warmly as he leaned an elbow on the bar beside you and took another long sip of his drink.

“See?”

“Yes! Its... they’re good!” You took another nibble and he held out his free hand.

“I’m Viktor.”

You struggled with the half eaten flower, petal still hanging partway out your mouth, and finally dropped the flower back into your drink, covered your mouth with one hand and offered him the other. Real smooth. Just killing it.

“Yef. Imf. Ahem. Haha... I uh, I know. I’m Tasha.”

“Tasha.” He took your hand, kindly ignoring all the awkwardness, or else actually mindboggingly charmed by it, “I’ve seen you here before I think?”

Oh damn. Oh fuck.

As delicious as the gentle fold of his hand was around yours, you tried to slide yours away and hide embarrassment at being caught out by turning back to your drink. Instead he caught the tips of your fingers and held tight. Not crushing, just enough tension to stop you, to draw your hand back toward him. Had you blinking surprise as your heart decided its new job was to turn as many summersaults as possible in your chest instead of pump blood, leaving you feeling a little lightheaded.

“Do you like my music?” It was almost shy, the way he asked it. As if he had no idea how good he was.

“Janna, yes.” You breathed earnestly, before you could stop yourself. Earned a delighted and open expression of surprise from him and a mortifyingly hot blush that swept from your throat to cheeks. So much redder and undoubtedly less attractive than the sweet pale pink dusting in the hollows of his cheeks.

He toyed a callused thumb at your fingertips he still held, gaze focused on them. Oh no, you’d embarrassed him as well as yourself. Good going.

“I’m...” You both began at once. And then just like that the lights cut off. A collective groan went up from the entirety of the packed bar. Left only with the dim illumination of the flickering small candles in their votives scattered on table tops. It happened regularly out here on the city limits, so close to the drop off toward Zaun. During the sweltering days of summer they kept the rolling blackouts random and confined to the edges, siphoning power into the wealthier, glittering city center to keep their lights on and fans running. Just letting everyone stuck out here know their place, and weren’t you terribly grateful to get what you were given? Imagine how bad it was a block or two over and a half mile down.

The bartender threw his rag angrily upon the bar and people began tossing back their drinks and rising to head out into the night to somewhere less packed and stifling and perhaps left with power or in possession of a generator. Viktor seemed only a little chagrined as he released your hand and settled unhurriedly on the barstool beside you to savor his cool drink in the dim light.

“Ah well. No set tonight.” He cast you a sly little glance that had your heart sinking. He had noticed you, and not just as a vaguely familiar face. He knew. “Sorry I won’t be able to play for you tonight.”

Something in the way he said it, though perhaps it was just you reading too much into the cadence of his soft clipped accent; misunderstanding emphasis placed on certain words. But it sounded... gods, it sounded like he really meant he was sorry he couldn’t play for you - just you. No. That was your silly one sided crush talking. Stamp that idea out right now. Intense foolishness. Get a grip, girl.

“I don’t suppose...” He’d turned away a little bit, toward the bar, thumb toying against the condensation beading and dripping off his drink in a way that made you jealous of the glass. “I don’t suppose you’d like to go for a walk?”

Do what now? Yes. Yes you would. Walk wherever. Ends of the earth? Straight into hell? Yes indeed, lets go. You managed not to choke on a swallow of your drink and nodded before voice found you.

“Yes.” Could you possibly manage anything more than monosyllabic answers, please? “Yes, I’d love to.”

There, was that so hard?

He brightened, and half turned back toward you. As if you were the one doing him a favor here and not the other way around.

The sweltering evening passed in a delicious little blur. The two of you slowly finding footing in conversation at the bar, unhurried as you finished your drinks before turning out onto the streets. The wandering was aimless and pleasantly slow as you chatted away, stopped at a street vendor to buy a few kebabs of that unidentifiable but sumptuously delicious meat that was so common here and in Zaun. Dripping with sweet spicy, sticky sauce that had you licking your fingers and him rubbing a smudge away from the corner of your mouth as you both sat on a stranger’s stoop to eat.

A little while later there was a second vendor, selling sweet iced milks, cardamom and cinnamon spiced, sweetened with honey and poured over shaved ice. Viktor insisted on treating, absolutely thrilled to find this vendor out and about tonight, explained how he usually missed them. Readily apparent the incredibly lean boy had a surprisingly raging sweet tooth.

The cane had also been a surprise. You’d noticed the slight limp and the brace that ran up his leg but had never seen him take more than a few steps onto and off the makeshift clearing of a stage at the bar. It had you concerned at first about wearing him out with the walk, but he set a comfortably easy pace and you didn’t mind the meandering at all. Though you did notice when he began to flag. It couldn’t have been easy, along with the weight of his bass slung across his back.

“I... uhm... my place isn’t far. If you want. The power’s probably not on, but there’s a fire escape that usually has a nice breeze. And the stuff in the icebox is probably still cool. If you want to rest a bit.” It all came out in a bit of a rush. Had him stalling on the sidewalk as he leaned weight upon that cane a bit heavily. Gaze inscrutable for a long moment that had you panicking that perhaps he thought you were making a clumsy move on him.

And then a little rocking step brought him closer. Close enough to get a little distracted by that second beauty mark under one golden eye and the scent of iced honey sweet on his breath.

“Alright. Only if you promise once we get there you’ll let me kiss you.” Those luminous eyes not on yours but trained lower, watching the shape of your mouth. And you realized suddenly he’d been doing that all evening; attention flicking between eye contact and sliding away time and time again to watch you speak, eat... and now to catch your lower lip between the crush of teeth like you needed to hide it from that gently hungry gaze.

“W-what?” You heard it practically squeak out of you.

“I’ve been trying to figure out how to all night.” He admitted with remarkable honesty, catching you even more fully off guard. “Please don’t invite me back to your place if... if that’s not what you want.”

Like he was running out of patience with himself and unable to face it if all you were doing was humoring him, somehow just being kind and coolly friendly.

“You can... you can kiss me right now.” Janna, it just came blurting out of you in a hot rush. Stammered and eager and slightly choked.

Ah, how he smiled. Slow and sweet before he rocked forward and caught your mouth. Fingertips trailing little licking electric lines of tingling fire back in a sweep above your jaw before he hooked hand in a cradle and pulled you closer.

Soft little suckle of your lower lip started it all, pulled at it temptingly and you felt the tip of his tongue brush a little taste, just a little one, before teeth caught a tiny tug and then both your mouths were open and you were done for. Hands reaching up to stroke along his throat, slide fingertips up into that soft mess of hair behind his ears. He was terribly gentle for the way you could feel him practically trembling with want as you slid tongue a slow roll slick against his own, drew it into your mouth in invitation, small teases of licks leaving you breathless until you both had to break at last.

Not that either of you wanted to - but the hooting cat calls of several passersby finally managed to penetrate the silent, muffled solitary universe the pair of you had descended into. Viktor glanced after their retreating backs before turning back to you with a shy smile, letting his forehead come to rest against yours as he thumbed away the glistening wet he’d left along your lower lip.

“I’ve been trying to figure out how to do that for weeks.” He admitted and it turned your world on its head. Had you break down in a breathless little ragged laugh.

“Me too.”

#viktor drabble #viktor arcane #viktor x reader arcane #arcane viktor x reader #viktor fic #arcane fic #sfw viktor #sweet fluff #musician au #musician viktor #drabble requests

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saint-hatice · 4 years

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i finished the new season of horseman and i loved a lot of it but hot damn judah (A MAN WHO GENUINELY RESPECTS PRINCESS CAROLYN!!!) is back!!!! and ugh yeah i love the whole platonic like relationship they have BUT he could also be genuinely good for her omg like 2020 better open with Princess Carolyn getting that plate ate by a man who’s worth the eating.

also the finale lmao, we’re going somewhere that’s gonna destroy me but at the same time feels very earned - so it’s not actually destructive so much as cathatrtic, like actions...have consequences and i think even if those actions are shitty and reprehensible, part of getting redeemed is knowing what punishment you deserve and what punishment you don’t, and i guess that’s the difference between cruelty and justice - and redemption sometimes means knowing what you deserve, and having the grace to accept that punishment. so idk, like [SPOILERS]

them journalists are on the trail, and Holly’s about to see a side of Bojack that’s gonna be unforgivable - but I think at some point, after making a lot of shitty decisions, you have to accept that somethings are unforgivable and that’s ok, the things you did to other people - you have to work with that, live with that - and idk I know it’s supposed to be like a big threat to Bojack’s healing and etc but I actually think it’s gonna be very cathartic rather than destructive, and anyway Bojack’s healing was about his self-hatred and dealing with the consequences is gonna be less of a i-mess-everything-up-because-i’m-a-bad-person destructive spiral (as a conclusion at least) and more of a i-messed-up-and-i-have-to-fix-what-i-can-and-live-with-what-i-can’t-and-it’s-not-cause-i’m-a-bad-person-and-being-a-person-is-living-with-ur-choices-and-just-doing-ur-best like that might sounds super kumbaya and shit Bojack takes responsibility and takes the punishment he deserves and dealing with it instead of acting out. idk i’m actually looking forward to it. I know it’s supposed to be like a cliffhanger that’s supposed to make the audience afraid of a relapse, but I’m not too worried. I think it’s gonna be interesting dealing with issues of forgiveness and being held responsible, less of a pc, cest-problematique, woke-culture-hot-take from the writers - and more of a genuine exploration, coz Bojack’s bad and relatable, but people who relate to him and are against his rehabilitation...lack self-love. I really wanna see how this series explores healing, forgiveness, living without being forgiven and etc etc like let the chips fall where they may. I want Bojack to get better, I want all the characters to have satifying emotional arcs and endings, but happiness isn’t something very neat and final, and I do think the way Bojack ends is definitely gonna be saying something about healing being a thing you have to work hard to do every day for the rest of your life, without the overly-neat neatness of a lie where everything ends with a clear solution. I actually really care about these characters. Bojack’s dealt with how he hurt himself and how others hurt him, now it’s time for him to learn to live with how he hurt others, and idk, I’m not dreading it.

#bojack horseman #spoilers #bojack horseman spoilers #princess carolyn x judah #princess carolyn #judah #also what diane and guy had was cute!#have?#sorry have lmao #her chubby face at the airport #let me down easy playing #mr.peanut butter going back to pickles #like lol OF COURSE they were gonna do this the EPISODE before the finale before #they dropped the drama on us #but idk #it was a nice moment #i really genuinely like this show

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