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everytime i see gidcroft content i think about that audio thatβs goes βsheβs too sweet for you, sheβs a flower - a flower in the hands of a gorilla is stupid, i would not give a flower to a gorilla.β
You're kept very separate from Ada's professional affairs. Nobody she works with knows about you and you don't know a single person that she works with. All you know about her job is that it keeps the two of you afloat.
Ada likes that you don't ask questions because questions cause fights. The only time she's ever felt you were justified in questioning her was after you had to pick her up from the hospital.
Your apartment is nice but smaller than what she can afford because she would hate to give you a reminder of how much she's away. The smaller apartment feels less lonely when she's away.
Whenever Ada comes back after being away, there is always some sort of gift for you. It kind of gives you an idea of where she went, but you still never really know.
Ada will make you sit down with her and tell her about every part of your day because she wants to hear you talk. She thinks your voice is soothing and work stresses her out.
She loves you because you're so far removed from everything she's been through. You believe the cover-ups and are distracted from the little news stories that they try to bury as they break.
The only flash you get of "work Ada" came when a man would not leave you alone on a night out. Back then Ada was still pretending not to care so much, but after the way she threatened him, Ada refused to deny her feelings.
She's bad at domestic things overall, but on the rare occasion she decides it's worth it, Ada is a great baker. Baking things is an apology or something she does if you don't feel well.
Ada tries to throw money at a lot of problems, but you force her to listen and actually improve.
You left once for a week and Ada thought she was going to lose her mind. You technically only came back for some of your stuff, but Ada convinced you to give her a second chance.
Kind of toxic in that she'll actually just leave after a fight with no way to contact her and only come back when she's decided you "deserve a chance to apologize" which has only backfired once.
The two of you stop fighting more after you realize maybe it's safer that Ada is secretive. You kind of wish you brought more mystery to the relationship, but Ada reassures you that is not what she wants at all.
Ada keeps control in the bedroom. She tells you beforehand how things will be and leaves it up to you if you're willing to join her.
She's very hard to goad into doing what you want. If you start acting out, she'll just put you in your place. Ada is very good at brat taming.
She tends to receive a bit more than give when it comes to oral. She just likes to talk to you more and knows how well her fingers work for you.
Ada won't shy away from trying something if you ask her about it. She likes experimenting or bringing toys into things, she just doesn't want to push you too badly.
Enjoys sitting on your face and doing it OFTEN. It's probably her favorite position overall because she knows that she's getting off and there's always the option to touch you too if she's feeling generous.
Ada knows that you tend to lose focus while she touches you, so she'll tease you while you eat her out without letting you get too close.
She's not very loud in terms of moaning or making noise, but she talks a lot during sex. It's mainly telling you what to do or the occasional bit of praise.
If she knows that she'll be away for a while, Ada will indulge in a night or two of phone sex with you. She says it's because you're the needy one, but Ada always initiates.
Ada dips after sex at first, but once she's somewhat committed to you, she stays. She does the softer things like cuddling and pillow talk. After a while, you can tease her about how awful her bedside manner used to be.
If you get in the bath with her after sex, she's touching you again. She can keep her hands to herself because a shower doesn't feel very sexy to her, but Ada loves bath sex.
Ada isn't always big on romantic gestures, but when she does them in the bedroom, she goes all out. You're reminded of the obscene amount of money she has access to and she gets to feel good about taking care of you.
Most of the time, you're honestly happy to just be with her. Enough so that you don't call her out for being a huge tease who can't take any teasing herself.
What I love the most about the dynamic between Chris and Jill is that you could headcanon these two as either a gay man and a lesbian who have been BFFs for decades or a romantic couple in a long-term relationship based on mutual commitment and respect (bonus points if it's bi4bi), and both scenarios could be just as plausible and valid.
what if i opened your eyes to the third possibility-
queerplatonic relationship that transcends the social rules of relationships, platonic soulmates ready to die for each other, who trust each other wholeheartedly. Partners.
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summary: After over two years interviewing and collecting footage of the local motorsports team, the Raccoon City Marauders, you finally realise you've made the one mistake no professional should, letting things get personal
pairing: Claire Redfield x fem reader
tags: Reporter x Sportsperson, flirting, biker! Claire, no zombies AU, reader and Claire are in their early 20s, light angst, mentions of injury, fluff, hurt/comfort
word count: 1.5k
"And there go The Raccoonsβagain! Just look at the way she speeds down that track, it is insane. Our team over here have gone through as many trophies as names; intially starting as 'The Raccoons', became 'The Raccoon Raiders' temporarily: 'The Raccoon Marauders', and now finally the team seem to have settled 'The Raccoon City Marauders' - geez all those R's 've got me in need of an R&R, what do you think Josh?"
It was a sunny day, the track was still wet from yesterday's rain, a bit of a hazard but the racers seemed happy enough to proceed. Currently, the RCM were in second place, narrowly beaten by the another racer, Trevor Gibson. You tore your eyes from the camera to your partner, Josh Stone.
"Well this is MotoAmerica, there isn't a second left for a break. Speaking of which Claire Redfield, as we all know had quite the accident 10 months ago."
You almost winced at the memory, suddenly acutely aware of why you'd been so irritable this morning. Claire had wiped out, on a wet track just like this one a few months back. You'd been there, heard the yells before you'd turned to see the wreck.
Claire who'd hidden her face from the camera, holding back sobs. Later in an interview (not by you, you couldn't bare to see her absorbed in rage and fear) she'd said she was terrified in that moment. Terrified she'd never compete again. That infuriated you more.
If anything Claire had been the catalyst that promoted your career as a journalist/reporter. You found yourself doing more of both these days, especially because your audience seemed to love your dynamic with Claire. The publicity from your interviews had skyrocketed her popularity and the way you both bickered after races? Electric and everyone knew it. Apart from her that is.
"Now she's back to be bigger than ever, if you follow the track south-east you can see her now head-to-head with Team CRBK's Trevor G. Who has been doing spectactulary this time around. Two young rising stars, tensions are high!"
"Well yes, Ms Redfield is quite a marvel." You said a little more tersely than you'd should have. The cameras panned to the track which gave you a few more seconds to collect yourself.
"You alright?" Josh placed an hand on your shoulder, handing you a plastic water bottle with his other.
"Yeah, yeah. I'm doing fine. A little parched, thanks." You took the bottle graciously, taking a meticulous sip.
The last thing you wanted was water dripping down your face on national television. The fact that this was so big for you, at such a young age on national tv should have been more nerve-racking, but you couldn't sever your thoughts from Claire on that slippery track behind you.
"Uh huh. Worried about Ms Redfield?" You shook your head vigourously which made Josh chuckle.
"She'll be fine."
"You have not denied your concern." He teased.
He was fully grinning and his face brought you back down to earth. You and Josh have spent over two years proving yourself, analysing broadcasts, improving on mistakes. It was not the time to get distracted.
"I'm more concerned about doing my job."
Josh seemed to sense your defensiveness because he laid off a little.
"Of course. Don't let your nerves get to you. We have practised for this, aboki*."
You nodded in response. At least you're not the main reporters today. Speaking of which, you turned to watch the track just in time to see Claire drift around the loop and you swore for a second you saw sparks. The dangerous stunt bought her some time and, wow, she's winning.
"And Redfield had overtaken Gibson for first place. She came her to prove that she is still the Queen of the racetrack, and she is killing it."
But that was reckless. So fucking reckless, why wasn't she thinking with her head. The same sliding across wet track that shattered her femur. You'd made the mistake of researching the night after, what that did to a person, and it only made you even gladder that you didn't see the accident first hand.
"Josh, is she insane?" You hissed, he was busy smiling at the track, blissful unaware of your scowl.
"She's wonderful, she's two laps away from placing first. Look at that."
While the rest of your team went to collect footage you avoided the crowd of reporters to get to the bathroom.
The whole scenario was aggravating. Sure you were proud beyond belief but that split second where you watched Claire made your heart ache in a way you simply no longer had time for.
You heard a knock on the bathroom door but ignored it, clearly the stall was occupied. You hated it when people-
"Hey, this is The Raccoons female bathroom seeing as I'm the only female on the team, I think you've gone into the wrong bathroom."
You freeze. Claire. Well fuck. Had you not looked at the sign before you walked in? Of course you hadn't, you'd been too pissed and what not to spare a glance at where you were wondering off to.
"Shit- sorry." You fumbled with the lock to open in bathroom, body moving before your mind realised this meant you were about to face her.
Claire called your name softly as you opened the door. Hair dishelved, sweaty and somehow still looking amazing. Her eyes went soft with confusion.
"You do know this is-
"Yes."
"Because you've been at this track many t-
"Yes. I know." You practically growled.
Wonder if you could push past a 7-year athlete by sheer willpower to get out of this awkward conversation. When her face faltered you finally remembered your manners.
"Congratulations on first place, Ms. Redfield."
"What? Ms. Redfield? Are you- what's up with you?"
"Nothing."
You took the opening to start walking towards the sink, washing your hands, you hear the sound of the tissue dispenser over Claire's voice.
"I haven't seen you in months, it's not nothing."
"You've been recovering for months. I got busy." You breathed out.
Suppose it made sense for her to be surprised by your detached demeanour. You'd even let her convince you to go out for drinks after one competition last year. So unprofessional. You were better now. You could resist.
"Well now I'm not," Claire huffed. "What's with the cold shoulder?"
The silence permeated the air for a bit before she talked again, looking at you through the bathroom mirror while you avoided her gaze, water still trickling down the basin.
"Is this about the accident?"
"Yes." Maybe you needed this.
"Yes, it is. Seeing you wipeout like that was terrifying. I'm an idiot for caring but maybe I don't like seeing someone I consider a friend recklessly risk their life."
You watched her chew on her lip, seeming to mull over your words.
"I'm sorry. God, I didn't mean to freak you out - I never thought about it from your point of view, but I miss you. And believe me, after all that rehab I am being careful. Promise."
How did she manage to look at you like that? Blue eyes that seemed to scour the surface of your soul so gently. Like she was holding you already with just a glance. You swallowed.
"You promise?"
Claire held a gloved hand out, soft smile as she gestured it towards you.
"Promise." You shook her hand with a sigh. Maybe you didn't want to resist her in the first place.
"It'll be nice to work with you again, Redfield. Professionally of course."
She snorted as warm as the sunshine outside.
"Aren't we friends? That's not very professional."
You glared playfully. "Right, you're going to get me in trouble for fraternising as well as late back to the office. Thanks for that."
Her head shook at that, finally realising your hand.
"I can drive you back myself if you want? Dodge the traffic?"
You raised an eyebrow at that.
"Shouldn't you be celebrating your win, Claire? This is huge for you and you probably have a bunch of reporters who are actually doing their job ready to interview you-"
Claire raised a dismissive hand with a tired exhale.
"Okay. But you need a lift. Unless you think I'll crash?"
You shake your head, surprising even yourself. Some kind of blind trust.
"No, let's go then."
Claire leads you to the car-park where her personal famous Harley-Davidson is parked. On the way, the silence is comfortable, and it's just the same as it was before the accident. Still, you're not fully ready to be that close again.
"You okay?" She asks, taking her helmet off the handlebar.
"Mhm. You're awfully friendly, you know. Trying to butter me up? I'll forgive but not forget."
Claire rolls her eyes, and you allow her to place the helmet on your head. You feel your cheeks press against the cramped inside as the heavy thing encompasses you. How do these guys keep them on for so long? No wonder Claire's so sweaty.
"Well, maybe I'm interested in being more than just your friend."
Omg this was soooo fun to write. I love Claire I had to physically hold back from writing a kiss scene.
that's because i totally wanna write another part to this dynamic in particular.
eee I love you Claire Redfield (also peep the Lunch by Billie Eilish ref)
also i just had to put Josh Stone in there, if Capcom won't do something with their side characters i will.
*aboki means friend in Hausa, a language most common in nothern nigeria.
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You know the one. Claire infiltrates an Umbrella facility, gets chased down by armed guards and helicopters, causes absolute chaos, and still goes out like a menace. It is easily the most badass FMV from the original era of the series, and every time someone says, βThat should have been Chris,β Iβm like: okay, thank you, you shouldβve just started there. We couldβve saved time.
Because thatβs usually where the argument is going anyway. Itβs not really about whether Claire is βcapableβ of doing it. Itβs about people being weirdly annoyed that Claire got that sequence.
And I find that so boring, because Claire has never needed to be a soldier for that scene to make sense. Her whole character is cut from the same cloth as Ellen Ripley and Sarah Connor: everyday women who are thrown into horror, survive it, adapt, harden, and become terrifyingly competent because the situation demands it.
Sarah Connor is not introduced in The Terminator as some elite commando. Sheβs a nineteen-year-old waitress. Ripley is not introduced in Alien as an action hero. Sheβs a warrant officer trying to keep everyone from doing something stupid, which, unfortunately for her, is apparently a full-time job. Their power does not come from credentials. It comes from escalation. They survive the nightmare, and the nightmare changes them.
That is Claire.
Claire survives Raccoon City. Sheβs been trained by Chris, yes, but more importantly, she has already been through the kind of trauma that either breaks you or turns you into someone who can move through fear without stopping. So when Code: Veronica opens with her breaking into Umbrellaβs Paris facility, I donβt see that as βunrealistic.β I see it as genre language. It is the game telling you: this is not the same girl who walked into Raccoon City looking for her brother. This is what surviving Raccoon City did to her.
And the Code: Veronica opening has always felt like it was recalling Sarah Connorβs unseen Cyberdyne incident before T2, where John explains that his mother was arrested after trying to infiltrate and blow up Cyberdyne. That is the same archetype. Not βtrained military professional does military professional things,β but βordinary woman discovers the machine behind the horror and decides she is going to drag hell directly to its front door.β
So it annoys me when people try to flatten Claire back down into βjust a college studentβ every time she does something impressive.
Yes. She was a university student.
So was Sarah Connor βjustβ a waitress.
Ripley was βjustβ a civilian worker.
That is the point. That is the entire flavor. That is why it works.
Iβll admit, the recent producer comments about Code: Veronicaβs remake portrayal make me a little nervous. The whole βRE2 was only three months agoβ thing is technically true, but I hope that does not become an excuse to sand Claire down too much. Three months is not a lot of time in normal life. Three months after surviving Raccoon City is not normal life.
Claire does not need to be written like Chris. She should not be written like Chris. But she also should not be written like she wandered into the plot with a backpack and a prayer. She has already survived one of the worst bioterror outbreaks in history. She has already learned what Umbrella is. She has already decided to chase them instead of run from them.
That opening is not some random βgirlbossβ power fantasy. It is the thesis statement of Claireβs original-era character:
You can underestimate her because she does not have the official title, the uniform, or the resume.
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summary: After over two years interviewing and collecting footage of the local motorsports team, the Raccoon City Marauders, you finally realise you've made the one mistake no professional should, letting things get personal
pairing: Claire Redfield x fem reader
tags: Reporter x Sportsperson, flirting, biker! Claire, no zombies AU, reader and Claire are in their early 20s, light angst, mentions of injury, fluff, hurt/comfort
word count: 1.5k
"And there go The Raccoonsβagain! Just look at the way she speeds down that track, it is insane. Our team over here have gone through as many trophies as names; intially starting as 'The Raccoons', became 'The Raccoon Raiders' temporarily: 'The Raccoon Marauders', and now finally the team seem to have settled 'The Raccoon City Marauders' - geez all those R's 've got me in need of an R&R, what do you think Josh?"
It was a sunny day, the track was still wet from yesterday's rain, a bit of a hazard but the racers seemed happy enough to proceed. Currently, the RCM were in second place, narrowly beaten by the another racer, Trevor Gibson. You tore your eyes from the camera to your partner, Josh Stone.
"Well this is MotoAmerica, there isn't a second left for a break. Speaking of which Claire Redfield, as we all know had quite the accident 10 months ago."
You almost winced at the memory, suddenly acutely aware of why you'd been so irritable this morning. Claire had wiped out, on a wet track just like this one a few months back. You'd been there, heard the yells before you'd turned to see the wreck.
Claire who'd hidden her face from the camera, holding back sobs. Later in an interview (not by you, you couldn't bare to see her absorbed in rage and fear) she'd said she was terrified in that moment. Terrified she'd never compete again. That infuriated you more.
If anything Claire had been the catalyst that promoted your career as a journalist/reporter. You found yourself doing more of both these days, especially because your audience seemed to love your dynamic with Claire. The publicity from your interviews had skyrocketed her popularity and the way you both bickered after races? Electric and everyone knew it. Apart from her that is.
"Now she's back to be bigger than ever, if you follow the track south-east you can see her now head-to-head with Team CRBK's Trevor G. Who has been doing spectactulary this time around. Two young rising stars, tensions are high!"
"Well yes, Ms Redfield is quite a marvel." You said a little more tersely than you'd should have. The cameras panned to the track which gave you a few more seconds to collect yourself.
"You alright?" Josh placed an hand on your shoulder, handing you a plastic water bottle with his other.
"Yeah, yeah. I'm doing fine. A little parched, thanks." You took the bottle graciously, taking a meticulous sip.
The last thing you wanted was water dripping down your face on national television. The fact that this was so big for you, at such a young age on national tv should have been more nerve-racking, but you couldn't sever your thoughts from Claire on that slippery track behind you.
"Uh huh. Worried about Ms Redfield?" You shook your head vigourously which made Josh chuckle.
"She'll be fine."
"You have not denied your concern." He teased.
He was fully grinning and his face brought you back down to earth. You and Josh have spent over two years proving yourself, analysing broadcasts, improving on mistakes. It was not the time to get distracted.
"I'm more concerned about doing my job."
Josh seemed to sense your defensiveness because he laid off a little.
"Of course. Don't let your nerves get to you. We have practised for this, aboki*."
You nodded in response. At least you're not the main reporters today. Speaking of which, you turned to watch the track just in time to see Claire drift around the loop and you swore for a second you saw sparks. The dangerous stunt bought her some time and, wow, she's winning.
"And Redfield had overtaken Gibson for first place. She came her to prove that she is still the Queen of the racetrack, and she is killing it."
But that was reckless. So fucking reckless, why wasn't she thinking with her head. The same sliding across wet track that shattered her femur. You'd made the mistake of researching the night after, what that did to a person, and it only made you even gladder that you didn't see the accident first hand.
"Josh, is she insane?" You hissed, he was busy smiling at the track, blissful unaware of your scowl.
"She's wonderful, she's two laps away from placing first. Look at that."
While the rest of your team went to collect footage you avoided the crowd of reporters to get to the bathroom.
The whole scenario was aggravating. Sure you were proud beyond belief but that split second where you watched Claire made your heart ache in a way you simply no longer had time for.
You heard a knock on the bathroom door but ignored it, clearly the stall was occupied. You hated it when people-
"Hey, this is The Raccoons female bathroom seeing as I'm the only female on the team, I think you've gone into the wrong bathroom."
You freeze. Claire. Well fuck. Had you not looked at the sign before you walked in? Of course you hadn't, you'd been too pissed and what not to spare a glance at where you were wondering off to.
"Shit- sorry." You fumbled with the lock to open in bathroom, body moving before your mind realised this meant you were about to face her.
Claire called your name softly as you opened the door. Hair dishelved, sweaty and somehow still looking amazing. Her eyes went soft with confusion.
"You do know this is-
"Yes."
"Because you've been at this track many t-
"Yes. I know." You practically growled.
Wonder if you could push past a 7-year athlete by sheer willpower to get out of this awkward conversation. When her face faltered you finally remembered your manners.
"Congratulations on first place, Ms. Redfield."
"What? Ms. Redfield? Are you- what's up with you?"
"Nothing."
You took the opening to start walking towards the sink, washing your hands, you hear the sound of the tissue dispenser over Claire's voice.
"I haven't seen you in months, it's not nothing."
"You've been recovering for months. I got busy." You breathed out.
Suppose it made sense for her to be surprised by your detached demeanour. You'd even let her convince you to go out for drinks after one competition last year. So unprofessional. You were better now. You could resist.
"Well now I'm not," Claire huffed. "What's with the cold shoulder?"
The silence permeated the air for a bit before she talked again, looking at you through the bathroom mirror while you avoided her gaze, water still trickling down the basin.
"Is this about the accident?"
"Yes." Maybe you needed this.
"Yes, it is. Seeing you wipeout like that was terrifying. I'm an idiot for caring but maybe I don't like seeing someone I consider a friend recklessly risk their life."
You watched her chew on her lip, seeming to mull over your words.
"I'm sorry. God, I didn't mean to freak you out - I never thought about it from your point of view, but I miss you. And believe me, after all that rehab I am being careful. Promise."
How did she manage to look at you like that? Blue eyes that seemed to scour the surface of your soul so gently. Like she was holding you already with just a glance. You swallowed.
"You promise?"
Claire held a gloved hand out, soft smile as she gestured it towards you.
"Promise." You shook her hand with a sigh. Maybe you didn't want to resist her in the first place.
"It'll be nice to work with you again, Redfield. Professionally of course."
She snorted as warm as the sunshine outside.
"Aren't we friends? That's not very professional."
You glared playfully. "Right, you're going to get me in trouble for fraternising as well as late back to the office. Thanks for that."
Her head shook at that, finally realising your hand.
"I can drive you back myself if you want? Dodge the traffic?"
You raised an eyebrow at that.
"Shouldn't you be celebrating your win, Claire? This is huge for you and you probably have a bunch of reporters who are actually doing their job ready to interview you-"
Claire raised a dismissive hand with a tired exhale.
"Okay. But you need a lift. Unless you think I'll crash?"
You shake your head, surprising even yourself. Some kind of blind trust.
"No, let's go then."
Claire leads you to the car-park where her personal famous Harley-Davidson is parked. On the way, the silence is comfortable, and it's just the same as it was before the accident. Still, you're not fully ready to be that close again.
"You okay?" She asks, taking her helmet off the handlebar.
"Mhm. You're awfully friendly, you know. Trying to butter me up? I'll forgive but not forget."
Claire rolls her eyes, and you allow her to place the helmet on your head. You feel your cheeks press against the cramped inside as the heavy thing encompasses you. How do these guys keep them on for so long? No wonder Claire's so sweaty.
"Well, maybe I'm interested in being more than just your friend."
Omg this was soooo fun to write. I love Claire I had to physically hold back from writing a kiss scene.
that's because i totally wanna write another part to this dynamic in particular.
eee I love you Claire Redfield (also peep the Lunch by Billie Eilish ref)
also i just had to put Josh Stone in there, if Capcom won't do something with their side characters i will.
*aboki means friend in Hausa, a language most common in nothern nigeria.
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