#Claire x ofc

[currymanganese]

Fak is too involved in Carmy and Claire's relationship. From giving Claire Carmy's number to showing up at her job with his equally annoying brother. He needs to mind his business and stop assuming what Carmy wants. In s3 ep9 Fak tells Claire he thinks (then later says knows) Carmy loves her. If you don't know Carmy's true feelings about her, why tf are you speaking for him?

Also sometimes it seems like Carmy doesn't even like Fak like that. They rarely have one-on-one scenes together and their conversations are mostly surface leveI. I always thought Fak and Richie were closer. In s2 ep3, when Claire and Carmy are talking on the phone, Carmy says Fak isn't his best friend (but then backtracks 5 seconds later saying he's probably my best friend). Then in s3 ep5 when they are preparing for the photoshoot, Fak said Carmy was #1 on his best friends list. The friendship is obviously unbalanced. Fak is one of those childhood friends you have outgrown but keep in your life due to history and familiarity. This is just another example of Carmy being stuck in the past and not being able to let go. He either needs to set some boundaries with Fak or end the friendship.

I love your blog btw. Your analysis on The Bear are very thorough.

*EXTREMELY HOT TAKE INCOMING*

Thanks for the kind compliments / thanks for the ask, but I'm starting to think that, if my suspicions are correct, that depending on how season 4 goes, that she and The Faks may shape up to be fantastic characters, at least from a trollish comedic parody perspective - and that this may be a huge 'star making role' for Molly Gordon and the rest of actors cast as the Faks if what is being set up is executed well post-reveal, and they demonstrate that, contrary to what we have seen thus far on the show, they definitely have acting range.....

Because I'm like 88% sure now that Claire x Carmy x Sydney's love triangle is an allegory/deconstructed (in part) version of Lilith x Adam x Eve from apocryphal / Jewish tradition. And that 'Sammy' Fak may be an archangel Samael figure

Lilith is Adam's first wife apocryphally and in Jewish mysticism that left him and became a she-demon / mother of demons / the "queen of the night" after being impregnated by / becoming a consort of the archangel Samael (whose name means Venom of God and is a seducing/destroying angel).

My thoughts are too incoherent right now to make a post about this theory in its own right, but all of the above could explain why the scenes where Claire is physically intimate with Carmy are shot in darkness and low light, compared to warm /well lit scenes when Syd and Carmy are emotionally intimate; it could explain why the songs that play during Carmy and Claire's scenes are frequently morbid or are outright about death, or lyric less ambient scores that invoke the feel of psychological horror,

and why mostly love songs are played for Carmy and Syd's.

I've made some posts /edits pointing out the parallels between Claire / Carmy / Syd and these biblical / mythological figures, and a post on why I think John Cena as Sammy Fak is a case of good casting (from a comedy perspective) if the Faks are really meant to serve the function that I think they are meant to below;

but some additional similarities between Claire and Lilith are that they were 'created' in the same way, 'formed from the same dust', as their 'Adam' (whose name can also mean red clay/earth and Claire's last name means mud or muddy fortress) - since Carmy and Claire both come from the same neighborhood/highschool and, depending on how much we see of Claire in the future, they may have both come from dysfunctional homes / be the adult children of alcoholic parents.

The posts I linked below are:

1. A webweaving on Sydcarmy + Adam x Eve parallels;

2. A fan edit that I did that was inspired by the webweaving; side note: if Carmy's words to Sydney at the end of their first convo was foreshadowing for them starting a literal nuclear family of their own, and how many kids they're gonna have, I'll scream;

"We're gonna make family, it's meat, (👀) plus three, and we'll eat around two."

3. A reblog add-on to @espumado et. al's @thoughtfulchaos773 @vacationship @kdbleu 's etc. thread on the theme of haunting / religious / mythological imagery and parallels in the show in season 3.

4. Another thread on religious symbolism in Season 3 and Claire and Syd / Carmy's relationship kicked off by @vacationship.

5. Another reblog add on I made in response to @glitterslag about the episode Review in Season one possibly representing/parodying the biblical "Fall of man".

6. A fan edit that I made for clairecarmy with the intent of being humourous at first, but unexpectedly turned out pretty nightmarish / psychological horror-esque without much work because the material/ dark imagery is there; including an eye opening parallel between Claire and Donna.

7. A post on the Bear being a super deconstructed Shakespearean pastoral comedy e.g. like As You Like It.

8. The religious symbolism of Carmy's red string of fate dish for Syd possibly being a visual allusion to the sacred heart of jesus, which is an emblem of God's long suffering and passionate love, an add-on to @twokisses post

Tagging @ambeauty @angelica4equity @imliterallyjustablackgirl @devisrina @ripley-stark @bootlegramdomneess @gingerylangylang1979 @outmakingmoonshine @pureseasalt @augustmonsooning @brokenwinebox @whenmemorydies @mod-doodles @bioloyg @caiusmarciuscoriolanus @post-woke @myloveismineallmine @turbulenthandholding @anxietycroissant

@moodyeucalyptus @ago0112 @unbeweavvveable @blackjack-15 in case anyone wants to chime in.😭

[xblackreader]

>> This song is so Carmy at Culinary School Coded

“All the pretty girls involved with me making pretty love to me, pretty… pity pity. Can’t feel a thing, can’t feel.”

[selmasemlan]

Be Mine

Summary: In the enchanting summer air of New Orleans, Marcel and Luna's deepening friendship blossoms into a romantic relationship when Marcel asks Luna to be his girlfriend

Pairing: Marcel Gerard x Luna Salvatore (OFC)

Author note: I'm back with another part of this fic. I just can't stop

Warning: cute shish, none

Word count: 821

Series Masterlist

Be Mine

The summer air in New Orleans was thick with the scent of magnolias and the distant sound of jazz drifting through the streets. Luna and Marcel found themselves strolling along the banks of the Mississippi River, the setting sun casting a golden hue over the city. It had been a summer of adventures and unexpected moments, each day weaving them closer together.

As they walked hand in hand, Luna couldn't help but feel a flutter of anticipation in her chest. Their friendship had blossomed into something deeper during their time together in New Orleans, and she wondered if Marcel felt the same way.

Marcel, ever perceptive, sensed Luna's quiet contemplation. He stopped by a wrought-iron bench overlooking the river, gently guiding her to sit beside him. Luna nestled close, the warmth of his presence comforting and familiar.

"You know," Marcel began softly, his voice carrying a hint of hesitation, "this summer has been... extraordinary."

Luna looked up at him, her heart skipping a beat at the sincerity in his eyes. "It really has," she agreed softly, a smile tugging at her lips.

Marcel reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair from Luna's face. "I've enjoyed every moment we've spent together," he confessed, his thumb tracing the curve of her cheek.

Luna's breath caught in her throat, her pulse quickening with anticipation. She searched his eyes, finding warmth and affection mirrored in their depths.

"I've been meaning to ask you something," Marcel continued, his voice steady but tinged with nervousness. "Luna, would you... would you like to be my girlfriend?"

The question hung in the air, filled with hope and vulnerability. Luna felt a rush of emotions—joy, excitement, and a deepening affection for the man before her. She leaned in, pressing her forehead against his, their breaths mingling in the warm evening air.

"Yes, Marcel," Luna whispered, her voice barely above a murmur but filled with certainty. "I would love that."

Marcel's face broke into a wide, radiant smile, his relief evident. Without hesitation, he pulled Luna into his arms, holding her close as they savored the moment. Luna melted into his embrace, feeling the weight of unspoken words and uncharted promises between them.

They sat there, wrapped in each other's arms, the soft murmur of the river and the distant jazz music providing a gentle backdrop to their newfound happiness. Marcel twirled Luna playfully around, causing her to giggle uncontrollably, their laughter mingling with the music of the night.

Their laughter filled the air, and Marcel pulled Luna closer, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. "You have no idea how happy you just made me," he murmured against her skin, his voice full of emotion.

Luna smiled, her heart swelling with love. "I think I might have an idea," she teased gently, her fingers playing with the collar of his shirt.

Marcel chuckled, leaning in to capture her lips in a tender kiss. The world seemed to fade away as they lost themselves in the sweetness of the moment, the warmth of his lips a perfect match to the summer evening.

As they pulled back, Luna rested her head on Marcel's shoulder, sighing contentedly. "This feels like a dream," she said softly, her eyes closing as she relished the feeling of being so close to him.

Marcel kissed the top of her head, his arms tightening around her. "If it is, I never want to wake up," he replied, his voice a low, comforting rumble.

They stayed like that for a while, wrapped in each other's arms, the gentle sounds of the city around them. Eventually, Marcel stood, taking Luna's hand in his and leading her to a quiet spot by the water. The city lights reflected off the surface of the river, creating a magical, shimmering scene.

Marcel pulled Luna into another dance, their movements slow and intimate. "Dance with me," he whispered, his lips brushing against her ear.

Luna nodded, her heart full as they swayed together under the stars. Each step felt like a promise, a silent vow of the love they were just beginning to explore.

When the night grew darker, they finally made their way back to the bench, sitting close together as they watched the last rays of sunlight disappear behind the horizon. Marcel draped his arm around Luna's shoulders, pulling her into his side.

"I can't wait to see where this takes us," he said softly, his fingers tracing patterns on her arm.

Luna looked up at him, her eyes shining with affection. "Me neither," she replied, her voice filled with hope and excitement.

In that moment, surrounded by the beauty of New Orleans and the warmth of each other's embrace, Luna and Marcel knew they were embarking on a journey that would be filled with love, laughter, and endless possibilities. The summer had brought them together, and now, their hearts were intertwined, ready to face whatever the future held.

[latibvles]

“a real tough cookie with the whiskey breath.”

oh blind dates oc fest my beloved how i missed you. to the surprise of no one, because i cannot be quiet about anything ever : a MOTA OC this time around. i'm sure this bar probably has a name to be found somewhere on the internet, but until I come across it [ big cartoony shrug ]. anyways, here's Genevieve Laurent, or Gen, if you're friendly. @blind-dates-fest ♡

Tom’s is only a fifteen minute bike ride away. The pay is good, she gets to keep all her tips, and her boss, for lack of a better term — downright adores her.

That’s never been the reason why she’s stuck with it all this time, though. There were better paying jobs in equal distance, and if she really, really wanted to, she thinks she’d do a pretty okay job packing parachutes or something of a similar vein. Respectable work, her mother would call it, which was secret code for: work that will keep you out of trouble, and possibly off the street before midnight. But that was really what it came down to: whether Genevieve wanted to do it. And for all the respect she had for those women, she knew that wasn’t the thing that called to her — not like it did to Claire, who was now off in London with the best and brightest, working in the Foreign Office.

Whatever that meant.

Much more glamorous than Genevieve’s own station, and she’s fairly certain none of their mother’s letters are imploring Claire to quit anytime soon. She was almost apologetic, in a way, that she couldn’t entice her family with letters filled with omissions, with work so secret she could hardly speak of it — but the beer wouldn’t pour itself and somebody had to do it after all those hours in flight.

“Thought you were leaving me out to dry tonight, sweetheart,” There’s a solid hand gripping her shoulder and squeezing, and Tom gives her a smile that’s all crows feet and genuine appreciation. Of course, the place wasn’t actually called Tom’s — but the sign was so faded that she and the other girls just tended to refer to it by the name of their esteemed publican. Genevieve returns the smile.

“And miss out on all this? Wouldn’t dream of it.” As if to accent her point, there’s a wave of hoots and hollering from the floor beyond the bar — no doubt from a bet won or a game of darts coming to its speedy conclusion. The song of the end of the work day. He gives her shoulder a shake, then lets go.

“Do me a favor and take those whiskeys to the table in the back? I think Elsie’s got caught up out there,” she follows his gaze to one of the other girls on shift —Elsie’s smile is easy and the tray on the table is empty, but she’s chatting up a storm at a table of men in brown uniforms. And Genevieve can’t exactly blame her, because while they knew practically every member of the RAF who came in and out on their days off, Americans were a sight to behold. Which is probably why Tom is sending her to the table in the back, with the hopes that she’ll be speedy.

“Yessir,” Genevieve hums, taking the tray of glasses with little fuss, making her way across the bustling floor with practiced hustle.

It’s not the pay that keeps her here, or the warmth of her boss. Not even the fact that she could do every job in this place, if she had to.

Genevieve had a penchant for poking her nose into places for the thrill of it — and there really was no thrill quite like conversation with people who had time to kill and liquor in their systems.

She recognizes the RAF officer at the table: David Griffiths, who Claire knew better than Genevieve did. She’d laughed when Claire told her he joined the RAF, and as an officer, no less. He’d been meek before the war, to put it lightly — maybe that slate-colored uniform and dark blue tie gave him the confidence he once lacked, she didn’t know. And then a couple regulars from around town. So the one in a brown uniform as opposed to their English blue sticks out like a sore thumb, and her curiosity is piqued in spite of David’s attempt to draw her attention with his smile alone.

“Thought old Tom was keeping you in the back tonight.”

“You know, it’s much easier to simply say you missed me, Griffiths,” she hums, leaning over to set down the tray. “Whiskeys for the table, yeah?” David clears his throat and makes a show of adjusting his cuffs, flaunting the new insignia adorning his sleeve as he had for every promotion prior. Genevieve straightens out, wraps her arm around his shoulder to pick off a stray thread.

“Captain Griffiths, congratulations,” Genevieve acknowledges just for the sake of him, then diverts her attention to look over the table, eyes settling on the new face staring right back at her. His dark hair curls over his forehead, with a straight nose and a pretty pair of lips — the wings on his jacket are catching lamplight. The smile on his face is what’s got her the most curious. “And who’ve you brought to cause trouble in Tom’s respectable place of business?”

The smile grows, the stranger leans back in his seat.

“No trouble over here ma’am, not unless you hate singin’.” His voice is deep and gravelly and, well, very American. His tone goes up at the end of the sentence, like it’s a question she’s meant to answer, and Genevieve wonders if it still counts as a bait when she can recognize it for what it is. She raises her brows, David’s hand curls around her wrist loosely as if to remind her that he’s there.

“Only if it’s bad.”

“Best keep your mouth shut then, Major, wouldn’t want to cause a scene,” around them, the other men chuckle at David’s quip — Genevieve pulls her wrist from his barely-there grasp as the Major raises his glass to his lips, before waving a hand dismissively on the swallow.

“Don’t listen to him, I’m like a canary over here.” He draws out each syllable, his smile only growing. She doesn’t believe him for a second.

“Well, Major, make sure not to shatter any glasses with your tunes and you’ll have soothed all my worries,” He chuckles at that, sitting back in the chair and Genevieve looks him up and down rather shamelessly before patting Griffiths’ shoulder. “Enjoy your evening, boys.”

Genevieve knows the feeling well — that sensation of eyes tracking her every movement as she walks away. She’d call it a sixth sense, the way she can make the distinction between the slighted nature of Griffiths’ staring as opposed to the more welcome lingering look of the Major, who’s name she’d surely get by the end of the night. If Claire were here, she’d probably laugh, then apologize to Griffiths for her little sister’s fleeting attention span, accompanied with some remark about how Genevieve had a penchant for things shiny and new. Genevieve would beg to differ and say it was more like she had a penchant for the things she didn’t understand.

And so what if she liked the staring, and leaving the air more charged than she’d found it?

Regardless of the interaction, the night wears on, and so long as the taps are flowing Genevieve is busy enough to keep from staring at the back table for too long. At some point, they stand up and make their way toward the dartboard (and Elsie with them, who shoots her a wink from across the room that has her laughing and Tom groaning from their spots behind the bar). Luckily, she’s only gone for maybe fifteen minutes — and she comes back with orders for Tom, before scurrying over and leaning forward on the bar.

“Better straighten up over there, Genny,” Elsie leans forward further to tuck one of Genevieve’s stray hairs behind her ear.

“Back from your mission so soon?”

“Well I had to make sure the prize was in place.” Genevieve raises an inquisitive brow.

“And that means..?”

“It means—” Elsie is effectively cut off by another round of hollering, and Genevieve knows the grin on the other girl’s face all too well. Elsie turns around and she follows the girl’s eyes to several things. One, Griffiths walking out of the pub, two, Major Canary laughing as he makes his way over and three, a conglomerate of Irishmen clapping his shoulders and shaking them in congratulations. “Well now we know who the winner is. Good luck!”

Before Genevieve can get a word in, Elsie’s scurrying back over to Tom on the other end of the bar to grab the drinks he’s lined up. She turns her back to the floor, but still hears a heavy exhale as someone takes a seat behind her. Then she tilts her head to look, and makes little attempt to withhold her smile as the dots connect fairly quickly in her head.

“Major Canary,” Genevieve hums in greeting. “Am I getting you anything?”

“Whiskey’s fine,” He looks around, like he’s taking a survey of the room, then turns to rest both elbows on the polished wood as she grabs one of the glasses that’s already dried. “Think you got me in trouble with your boyfriend back there,” he laments with a grin, running his thumb over his bottom lip.

“Who, me?” Genevieve slides the glass along the countertop. “You might have the wrong girl, sir.”

“Oh? What makes you say that?” He takes that tone again — so clearly baiting her and Genevieve is, admittedly, a little too eager to take what he’s giving this time.

“Well for one, I don’t have a boyfriend,” she hums, holding up the pointer finger, and then her middle one, “And two, I’m willing to wager it was the dart game that got you in trouble, Major.” She slides the glass over the countertop, and he takes it. He’s closer now than he was at the table — she can finally make out that his eyes are blue, like the RAF uniforms.

“Yeah? How much are you willing to bet?”

“Well, how much did you earn in your game? Must’ve been a hefty sum for the Captain to walk out like that.” Genevieve leans forward on the bar now, tilting her head as she looks at him, already knowing the answer. His eyes flit over her face and down the length of her neck, following the curve of her shape before the bar cuts off his vantage point, then he goes back to returning her stare. He brings the glass to his lips, then licks off the excess before he opens his mouth again.

“A shot with the pretty girl serving drinks tonight? Pretty priceless if you ask me.”

“Well that’s a line if I’ve ever heard one,” Genevieve remarks with an airy laugh.

“But it made you laugh. Must be doing something right.” He counters, and she laughs again with a roll of her eyes. “See? Just did it again.” Genevieve shakes her head slightly.

“Well if my company’s so priceless why haven’t you asked my name yet? Bragging rights and all that.” It’s hardly the bait of their earlier conversation — but it’s something, and she wonders if he recognizes it for what it is, like she had at the table. He finishes off the glass, pushing it back to her with his fingertips and holding her gaze all-the-while.

“Well my bragging was gonna be making you laugh ‘till your boss throws me out, but I should probably get the name so I know who to ask for next time, right?” She takes his glass, and moves to fill it again — feeling both like the belle of a ball and like one of those wood logs in a fireplace crumbling into charcoals, giving off sparks. Somewhere in the back of her head, Claire is screaming at her to stop dancing so close to cliffsides before she takes a tumble she’ll regret, but right now she doesn’t feel any ground giving way beneath her feet.

“Genevieve. Gen, if you’re friendly.” She hums out, taking her time on his refill with the express purpose of keeping him there a little longer. The laugh he lets out is breathy, almost disbelieving, and she looks back up at him through her lashes. “Your turn, or should I just keep calling you Major Canary?”

“My turn, she says,” he mutters, probably more to himself than her even if she can hear it. She passes the glass back over. “Well if we’re being friendly it’s Bucky. Egan.” He exaggerates it — the word friendly, but Genevieve’s really hanging on the ‘if’. She feels almost like a kid picking apart words to prove her point. She should’ve been a lawyer. ‘If’ meant she had options, and maybe she feels a little prideful; to know she has control of where this thing goes. It’s a rush. The kind she wouldn’t get packing parachutes or up in an office. The kind only another person could give her.

The ground gives a little beneath her feet, but Genevieve is undeterred.

“But I take it you’re aiming for a little more than that, is that right, Bucky?”

The smug grin on his face is as much of an answer as any.

And it excites her down to her bones.

[cerase11a]

I am in love with her.

[dumb-zombie-girl]

I'm writing a supernatural fix it fic in my notes app and when i get done would anyone be interested in me posting it on here?

[coco-bean-1218]

Well-Behaved Women Never Make History

Chapter Two: When Blue Met Brown

Chapter Soundtrack

Summary: Claire arrives at Camp Toccoa, where her fate will be decided.

A/N: Hi, everyone! I am back from my unexpected hiatus. I'm very excited about this chapter, and I hope you all are, too. As always, feel free to like, comment, and reblog! I hope everyone enjoys it!

Warnings: Swearing, period-typical behavior, crude behavior towards Claire

Taglist: @whollyjoly @footprintsinthesxnd @panzershrike-pretz @xxluckystrike

June 6, 1942 Camp Toccoa, Georgia 5 p.m. Eastern Time ---

“Okay, I can do this," Claire muttered to herself.

Claire stood outside the entrance, in front of the sign that read Camp Toccoa, Georgia, searching for the confidence to go in. The young woman clutched her luggage handle with sweaty palms, her stomach twisting with nervous energy.

She fidgeted with her blouse and skirt, smoothing out imaginary wrinkles and adjusting her luggage for the hundredth time. Her heart raced as she thought about the rigorous training that awaited her in the army. Claire knew she had to push past her nerves and doubts if she wanted to succeed as a combat medic. As she stood alone, lost in her thoughts, she was suddenly jolted back to reality by footsteps approaching from behind.

“Oh shit,” Claire thought anxiously, “This better not be an MP.”

“Staying or going?” the voice next to her asked.

As she turned towards the voice, her eyes landed on a man who seemed to be her age. He stood tall, with a slim build and a clean-shaven face. The late afternoon sun glinted off his dark hair, highlighting his twinkling brown eyes. Like her, he clutched onto his belongings tightly and had one bag sitting on the ground beside him. She breathed a sigh of relief, grateful that he wasn't an MP like she feared.

“Staying.” Claire finally replied, “At least I think so.”

"I'm James," he introduced himself with a friendly smile, extending his hand. Claire took a deep breath and shook it firmly, feeling a sense of warmth in his touch. "James Alley."

"Claire O'Connor," she replied, matching his smile with one of her own.

“Are you a nurse here?” He asked.

Combat medic,” she replied with a slight edge to her voice, not looking away from the entrance.

James shifted awkwardly. “Oh, my mistake...So, what company are you in?” he asked nervously, trying to recover.

"Easy Company," Claire answered confidently, finally meeting his gaze again.

The young man's face lit up with a warm smile."So am I. You're the first person I've met from Easy." He laughed, a hint of dryness in his voice. "Should've gotten here earlier."

He fidgeted, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. "How long have you been standing here?" 

Claire glanced around before answering, "'Bout ten minutes.

James picked up his bags. “Well, you might as well walk with me.” He then nodded towards the entrance. “C’mon.”

Claire picked up her luggage and followed her new friend through the gates, past a row of wooden buildings, and into a bustling camp.

As they walked into Camp Toccoa, Claire's senses were immediately bombarded with the sights and sounds of soldiers moving about. The barracks were lined up in neat rows, flags fluttered in the breeze, and there was a constant stream of voices calling out to one another. Claire couldn't help but feel small and out of place amid the hustle and bustle. Alley looked just as overwhelmed.

“What do we do now?” Alley asked.

Claire shrugged, "I'm guessing we need to find where we're supposed to check in?"

"Yeah, wherever that may be," Alley muttered

Claire gestured to the left. "I don't know...let's try going this way." 

The two of them started walking in the direction Claire had pointed out. As they continued through the camp, Claire became aware of how immense Toccoa was and felt small, as if she were wandering alone in a dense, shadowy forest. Walking behind Alley, she noticed a large group of soldiers—seven, to be exact. Even from a distance, their boisterous behavior and loud voices were enough to make her uneasy. 

“Oh, fuck,” she muttered under her breath.

“What’s the matter?” Alley asked her.

She shook her head. “Nothing, let's keep going.” She quickened her pace, wanting to avoid any potential trouble that might come from being near them.

Claire kept her eyes fixed on the ground, counting each step she took. She could feel the curious glances of the other recruits burning into her skin, but she knew she couldn't let their stares get to her. If she were to make it, she had to prove herself capable and strong. As a young woman in a camp full of grown men, she had reasons to be apprehensive. Therefore, she didn’t want to engage with the group unless necessary.

Unfortunately, as she walked by, everything began.

Someone whistled at her. One yelled, “Hey, look, it’s a broad!” Another yelled something along the lines of, “Oh, yeah!” or, “Hell yeah!” Claire really couldn’t tell with all the commotion. Someone else yelled, “Hey there, beautiful!” Another just cackled at the other four, which only provoked them more. However, when she glanced back, two of the men were simply watching and didn't engage in the crude behavior.

If she rolled her eyes anymore, they would go to the back of her skull. She had two options: walk away or confront them. She would have likely walked away if it were just some unknown boys on the street. But, these were individuals she needed to interact with in the future and could potentially save their lives, so she squared her shoulders and prepared to confront them.

With her head held high and a confident sway to her hips, she marched over to the group, leaving Alley in her wake. As she approached, she crossed her arms over her chest and narrowed her eyes, projecting an intimidating aura that dared anyone to challenge her.

Among the group, there was a red-haired man with dimples, a shorter man biting his lip to hold back laughter, a man with dark hair who seemed disinterested, a lanky one with thick, dark hair, another with sharp features that suggested he could throw a punch, a young-looking boy who kept winking at her, and finally a tall boy with piercing blue eyes. Her intense gaze locked onto his, but he couldn't meet it for long. He quickly averted his eyes and stared at the ground, feeling a flush of embarrassment spread across his cheeks.

“Well, this is some group,” she thought to herself as she observed the seven before her, “A real bunch of jokers is what they are.”

She shifted her weight to one leg and took a deep breath, the sound of frustration escaping her lips. “There something you need to say to me?” 

The first five, Claire dubbed the ‘rowdy ones,’ stared at the ground, trying to contain their laughter. The other two avoided eye contact with her and exchanged glances.

She leaned in closer. “What is it?” You don’t know what to say when a girl has bigger balls than you, doesn’t take your shit, and stands up for herself?”

They were silent now.

“Thought so,” With a satisfied smirk, she confidently strutted off with Alley at her heels. Claire felt a sense of satisfaction with what she had accomplished in the mere ten minutes she had been here.

The red-headed man chuckled, “Well, I'll be damned,” he exclaimed.

“Wasn’t expecting all that,” the shorter one laughed, gesturing towards Claire.

“Hey! Hey! Buddy, come here!” the skinny one called out to Alley.

Alley sighed and begrudgingly walked back toward the group, “Yeah?”

“So, tell us, what’s the deal with girly?” the tough-looking one asked.

As Alley shrugged his shoulders and began explaining how they had just arrived at Camp Toccoa together, the blue-eyed boy found himself lost in thought. He wondered what it would be like to have a conversation with this girl, to discover more about her beyond her fiery attitude and unwavering confidence. It was an unfamiliar feeling for him, this curiosity that was slowly growing within.

“Hey, watcha lookin’ at, Grant?” one asked, nudging him in the side.

“Nothing.” he snapped back.

“Uh-huh, sure,” the youngest of the group replied sarcastically, raising an eyebrow at his friend's obvious interest in Claire.

Grant's cheeks flushed red, and he quickly averted his gaze from his friends. He couldn't deny that there was something about Claire that had captivated him, but he didn't want to admit it either. He was always known as the level-headed one, the guy who didn't let distractions get in the way of his focus. But there was an indisputable spark within him that had been ignited the moment he locked eyes with her.

As soon as he gained a sense of boldness, Grant found himself chasing after her. He couldn't let her go without at least trying to make things right.

Claire quickened her stride, relieved to be away from the group. Yet she couldn’t help but feel guilty that the group had summoned Alley back.

“Excuse me, miss?” She heard someone call out as they ran up to her.

She stopped in her tracks, “Jesus Christ,” she murmured as she rolled her eyes and turned on her heel. She anticipated encountering one of the other boys, but to her surprise, it was the quiet one.

Claire cocked her head to the side, piercing him with a sharp gaze. Her arms were tightly crossed over her chest, and her voice carried a steely edge, "Yes?"

Grant shuffled nervously, his hands fidgeting at his sides. He glanced up at her, trying to compose himself before speaking.

“Hi, there. I...uh... just wanted to apologize on behalf of my friends. They’re a bunch of idiots and shouldn’t have acted that way,” he said, nervously rubbing the back of his neck. He glanced over at his rowdy friends, who were still causing a scene.

Claire wasn’t impressed, “So, why aren’t they apologizing?

“Um, well,” he stammered, meeting her eyes with a mixture of apology and nervousness. "I thought it would be more sincere if I apologized instead."

"Well, it's not your fault they're idiots," she replied, her voice softening slightly.

He nodded, relieved by her response. "Still, I should have stepped in and stopped them from harassing you."

She quirked an eyebrow, her expression guarded “Mm.”

“My name’s Grant. Charles Grant,” he introduced himself, extending a hand towards her. 

A faint smile tugged at her lips as she returned the gesture, “Claire O’Connor.”

Claire studied Grant closely, taking in his tall stature and young features. Despite his attempts to remain calm and composed, she could see the way he was shaking slightly, the way his cheeks flushed slightly with embarrassment.

It was clear to her that Grant was a man who was not accustomed to being rattled, but there was something about her that had thrown him off balance. In a way, it was oddly refreshing to know that even the strong and confident could be knocked off their feet sometimes.

She had to admit that Grant was undeniably handsome, the way his golden brown hair was neatly side-parted, not a strand out of place. Her gaze was drawn to his mesmerizing eyes, which resembled the clear blue sky on this warm Georgia afternoon. And she found herself unable to look away from him.

"Oh no, Claire, this is not why you're here. We are not doing this again. Remember what happened last time," she scolded herself.

“I’m guessing you’re here to be a nurse or a medic?” Grant inquired.

“Combat medic, yes,” she confirmed. “I know some French from high school, so I’m hoping they might make me a translator, as well."

Grant nodded, impressed by her intelligence and multitasking abilities. "That's impressive."

Claire glanced around the camp, "You wouldn't happen to know where the check-in is?"

“Yeah, I do. I’ll show you if you’d like,” Grant offered.

She graciously accepted and led the way with Grant close behind. Of course, the group of boys behind them caught sight of this and started pushing and shoving each other, their voices rising in excited hollers.

“So, if you don’t mind me asking, where are you from?” he inquired politely.

"Detroit, Michigan. How about you?" she responded.

"Southern California," he answered with a hint of nostalgia in his voice.

"Is that so?" she exclaimed, raising her eyebrows in surprise. "I've always been fond of California. I vacationed there once."

Grant smiled. "Looks like we're both city kids.”

“I suppose we are," she nodded.

As they rounded the corner, a quaint wooden building came into view. "Here we are," Grant announced.

After expressing her gratitude for his assistance, she turned towards the building. She paused for a moment to glance back at him before entering. He stayed outside, waiting patiently. Feeling a bit awkward, he tried to distract himself by taking in his surroundings.

The door creaked as she pushed it open, revealing a cramped room with peeling paint and a musty smell. She noticed a person she presumed to be an officer lounging in a chair behind a desk.

She nervously cleared her throat. “Uh, excuse me, sir?”

“Hmm?”

“I’m here to check in, sir.”

“Name?” the man asked.

“Claire Renée O’Connor. I’m here to be a medic.”

Not expecting to see her, the man nearly fell out of his seat when he heard this. To which Claire, of course, had to look out the window next to her to stop herself from laughing at his reaction.

After composing himself, he cleared his throat. “Just a moment, please.”

The man turned and walked back to another room behind him. “Hey, Dick, she’s here.”

Returning to the office, he introduced himself as Lieutenant Lewis Nixon. He extended his hand to Claire, who shook it firmly while trying to hide her nerves.

Another man walked into the office. He was tall with red hair. He offered his hand and introduced himself as Lieutenant Richard Winters.

“You must be Miss Claire O’Connor?”

“Yes, sir, I am,” she nodded and shook his hand too.

“Pleasure to meet you.” He handed her a thick stack of papers and a pen. “Please review these documents, verify everything is correct, and sign.”

"Certainly," Claire quickly scanned the pages, her eyes darting back and forth as she checked each line for any errors. After a few minutes, she confidently signed her name at the bottom of the last page.

“You’ll be assigned to Second Platoon, Private.”

She nodded, “Yes, sir.”

“Here’s your gear: Dress uniform, PT gear, combat uniform, helmet, utility belt, dog tags, and boots,” Winters explained as he handed her each thing. The pile was so tall that she couldn't see over it.

“Welcome to the Airborne, Private,” Winters said, his voice booming and filled with pride.

“Thank you, sir," Claire saluted.

Claire left the building with her stack of gear, stepping out into the humid air. Grant was still standing there, waiting for her, but was now rolling up his sleeves to gain relief from the heat. He turned to see Claire carrying her vast stack of newly acquired gear.

"Here, let me help you with that," he offered as he walked towards her. 

A flicker of appreciation danced across Claire's eyes. "I appreciate that," she admitted, "but I can handle myself just fine."

Grant's lips curled up into a small smile. "I believe that," he said, "But, what kind of a gentleman would I be if I didn't offer my help?"

Claire hesitated for a moment, considering Grant's offer. She wanted to be more independent, to not rely on anyone else for help; she had done that for too long in her life. But there was something about Grant's genuine kindness that made her reconsider.

Claire sighed, "He is really sweet," she said to herself, "Maybe I should give him a chance."

"Alright, fine," she gave in as she handed him the stack and continued carrying her luggage.

Grant's smile widened at Claire's acceptance of his offer. He carefully took the stack of gear from her, making sure not to drop anything. 

"Thank you, Claire said softly, "I do really appreciate it. I didn't mean to sound cold."

Grant shook his head, a gentle laugh escaping his lips. "No worries, I understand the need for independence. So, what platoon are you in?" he asked.

"Second," she replied.

"So am I. I'll show you where the barracks are." Grant said, genuinely pleased by the coincidence.

Grant walked alongside Claire, each step in sync with the other. As they made their way through the bustling camp, Claire tried to keep her gaze ahead, focusing on the dirt path in front of her. But no matter how hard she tried, her eyes kept drifting toward him. His stride was confident, his posture strong, and there was a subtle grace to the way he carried himself. She wondered what stories lay behind those kind eyes, what experiences shaped him into the man he is today.

"You know, you didn't have to wait for me back there. I could've made it around on my own," Claire said, her voice laced with curiosity.

Grant shrugged, "I wanted to. You know, I was in your shoes just this morning when I first arrived." 

Claire raised an eyebrow, intrigued by Grant's admission. "You were lost too?" she asked, a smile playing at the corners of her lips.

Grant chuckled, nodding as they continued walking. "Oh, definitely. I must have taken every wrong turn possible before finally finding my way around this place. I'm still not exactly sure we're going in the right direction."

Claire laughed for the first time since she left home, the sound echoing through the camp, drawing the attention of nearby soldiers. Grant's face lit up with joy at the sound of Claire's laughter. It was contagious, filling him with a newfound sense of ease. He found himself yearning to hear it again and again, to be the one responsible for that joyful sound.

"I appreciate your kindness," Claire replied sincerely. "Most of the guys my age I've encountered haven't been nearly this nice."

Grant smiled warmly at her. "Well, they don't know what they're missing out on then," he said. "You seem like a force to be reckoned with." 

Never in a million years would Grant have pictured himself running after a girl, especially one he hadn't even spoken to, and being so open with her. Having never felt this way around someone was a strange feeling for him. But, here he was, now befriending her.

Claire nodded, though a part of her couldn't fully trust Grant's words. She couldn't let his words fill her head with false hope, especially when the odds were stacked against her.

As they neared the busier parts of the camp, many of the soldiers they walked past shot Claire curious yet dirty looks, sizing her up with judgment and skepticism. She could feel their eyes on her, questioning her presence amongst them, and some began whistling at her.

"Aren't you afraid they'll tease you for helping me?" 

"Afraid? Not at all," Grant replied, his voice steady and confident, as he shot dirty looks right back at them. He stood up straighter and walked with a swagger. "Let them try," he muttered under his breath, though loud enough for Claire to hear.

Claire spoke up, "So, who was the group of guys you were with? Like, what're their names, I mean?"

"The one with red hair, that's Malarkey. The one who didn't say anything, that's Toye. The skinny one with the thick dark hair, that's Liebgott. The shorter one, that's Luz. The tough-looking one is Guarnere. And the young-looking one standing next to me, that's Talbert." Grant explained.

As Grant listed off the names, Claire made mental notes, trying to match the faces with the names, "I see."

"They're good guys. I mean, I haven't known them for more than a few hours, but they seem like good people," he reassured her.

They reached the barracks, a large wooden structure with peeling paint and worn-out steps. 

"Well, here we are," Grant sighed, "You can pick any bed that isn't taken."

He held the door open for Claire, allowing her to enter first. The first thing that caught her attention was the overpowering smell of sweat and dirt, mixed with the faint scent of cigarettes.

Inside, the room was filled with bunk beds lined up against the walls, clothing, and gear strewn about haphazardly. A few soldiers were playing cards at a small table in the corner, their laughter filling the air. Claire noticed that some of them turned to look at her as they entered, their eyes filled with curiosity.

Grant led her to the last empty bed near the corner, between two occupied ones. He carefully set down her stack of gear and moved to stand beside her. He motioned towards the bed on Claire's left, "This one's mine, and on your other side is Roe. He's also here to be a medic. I think you two will get along just fine!"

"Thank you again," Claire smiled at Grant, "I really appreciate your help. I know at first I was a bit resistant, but having a kind and trustworthy person like you by my side makes everything a lot easier."

Grant beamed at the compliment, feeling a warm glow in his chest. "I don't mind at all. It's my pleasure to help you," Grant responded, his words genuine and warm. 

For once, Claire didn't feel like she was carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders. For once, she had someone who cared about her, someone who would look out for her, and someone who was willing to be her friend.

With a final nod, Grant turned to leave, but not before catching Claire's eye and giving her a reassuring smile. "I'll see you around."

"Yeah, see you around," Claire replied, watching with a heavy heart as Grant walked towards the door and out of the barracks.

As Grant disappeared into the camp, Claire wondered if this newfound friendship would last or if they would just be fleeting acquaintances in a world that seemed determined to tear her apart.

---

[1nm806]

sometimes straight ships r fun actually

[totallynottinsel]

Warnings: none. Just some tooth rotting fluff for the soul. and maybe a little angst

Ship: Chreon (+ some Jill x Claire sprinkled in for fun)

Ty to my wonderful mom for this whole idea of the gang getting to have a chill day out for once, she's amazing so all credit goes to her for the prompt (: (i've dragged her into the Chreon cult)

Finally, with the world saved once again by the skin of everyone’s teeth, there was that silent, open void left over; it was a bit funny how these top tier government agents and so on had a hard time figuring out what to occupy themselves with when not stopping bioterrorists or shooting zombies. Though most of them had gotten used to that same empty space by now. 

After Dylan had been successfully put to a stop, as well as the events on Alcatraz Island settled—the near exhausted group of friends wanted to at least spend a little time all together before each of them had to return to their own set of work again. Yet the question was…what would they do? None could seem to agree on one thing throughout the various ideas and suggestions spat out, though at least someone had a decent choice. Rebecca ended up saying they should simply go out for ice cream, to which they all happily agreed to. Who wouldn’t though?

They all decided to carpool to make the trip easier. “I’m calling shotgun!” Claire exclaimed as she dashed to the side of the car, sitting herself inside right next to her brother, who’d already been the chosen driver—whilst Jill and Rebecca got stuck with the backseats. But at least it wasn’t too squished for the two of them, or so they would think for a good minute. 

“Hey, can I ride with you guys? I’ve kinda lost mine” A low, unsure voice kindly asked the rest of the group, which was quick to catch everyone’s attention. It belonged to Leon of course, who stood just a few feet away from the vehicle, arms crossed as he patiently awaited a response.  

“What happened to your bike?” Chris asked with curiosity towards the other, his arm resting on the rim of the car’s open window. 

“I…don’t really wanna talk about it.” The blond replied in an underlying tone of remorse, his gaze fluttering down to the ground below him, almost in a shameful manner. 

"Not again…" Claire murmured from her side, leaning forward to try and get a better look out her brother's window, not all too surprised by the revolution. Especially seeing who it was coming from.

"What does she mean again? Jesus, how many bikes have you recked?" Jill raised an eyebrow to the topic, staring at the apprehensive man outside the car with a slightly distasteful, yet nonetheless intrigued look on her face. 

"Too many for my liking." Leon mumbled under his breath as it was mixed with the tiniest tinge of annoyance, which was fair in his defense. He made his way over to the car, and slid himself inside the backseat alongside the other two—who were now stuck being squished next to each other. 

"So what I got from that was, is that I get to sit next to the guy who's known for wrecking bikes and or vehicles? Just my luck." She remarked straight back, her tone riddled with sarcasm as she kept on trying to lean far from him, making their limited space even worse no doubt. "Wanna swap seats?" She asked the woman next to her.

"I'll pass." Rebecca gladly declined, knowing fully well she wasn't about to be the human shield in case the curse of the vehicle wrecker was real all along. 

"Don't worry, we'll get you a new one, again. It's no big deal." Chris didn't hesitate one bit to put up an offer towards the other man, his usual warm and inviting smile coming across his face as he started up the car, one hand leisurely placed on the wheel.

"You don't have to do that, Chris—really. I can get my own this time, eventually…" He denied the gracious offer with hesitance; it wouldn't be the first time he's said no, yet came home to a snazzy new bike regardless. 

"He just likes finding any excuse to buy you things." Claire couldn't help but comment with a grin towards the two, shifting to look back at Leon, who rightfully was trying to avoid direct eye contact. Even if everyone was staring at him with intrigue. "You know he'll get it for you no matter what you say or do." He sank right into his seat after hearing that. 

—-------

"Are you going to pick or just stand there?" Chris asked with a gentle sigh, waiting for Jill to finally order whatever flavor of ice cream she was so deeply contemplating for what seemed like years. At this rate, she'd been holding up the line of impatient kids—whilst Claire and Rebecca had no issues ordering and taking a seat outside the place.  

"Give me a break! It's been awhile since I ordered anything, let alone ice cream." She gave a snappy response before eventually making her decision out of the bajillion flavors this place had, and was glad to leave the devilish gazes of all those kids waiting for their daily sugar intake. 

"Did you order anything yet?" Chris directed his attention back to the silent man standing off to the side, seeming a bit fazed out—as if he'd been distracted this entire time, which might've been true. 

"Huh–? Oh, yeah… I'll just have whatever you're having, I'm not really that hungry." Leon merely shrugged his shoulders, stuffing his hands down into the pockets of his leather jacket, having his laid back demeanor as always. 

"You sure?" The older wanted to confirm, though a hint of concern was noticeable in his voice towards the other. 

"Yeah, like I said, I'm not super hungry or anything…but if I do I'll just steal some from yours." He at least had a half smile going, which was better than nothing at all, but something still felt a bit off. 

The two men returned back outside within no time, ice cream in hand as the sun was shining, people out and about, no blood curdling screams of terror. Or big tyrants stomping around. All in all it was…well, a normal, average day, by anyone else's standards. But for this group of pals in particular? This was like a dream.

"Looks like we've been ditched." Leon snarkily remarked at the supposed other three friends who'd left before them, now nowhere in sight. So…that left the both of them, alone once again to either sit in cricket filled silence as they stood on the sidewalk, or attempt at striking up a decent conversation. What the hell would they even talk about at this point? That was always the question when this scene played out, with no mission to swiftly coordinate with one another, or battle to face. Though in all honesty, neither one totally hated the silence—it was almost nice of sorts to just be in each other's company, no words needed.

"You doing okay?" Chris finally spoke up after at least five minutes of just head nodding and gestures of acknowledgement, having already taken notice of the other's odd quietness, and how he kept on resting his eyes nearly the whole time. "You've been pretty quiet all morning." 

"I'm fine, just real tired. I barely got any sleep last night…actually, scratch that, I haven't got any sleep all damn week. I guess it's catching up to me." The fatigued blond rubbed his drowsy eyes with his hand, leaning his back against the concrete wall next to the store. "I can't seem to figure out how to stop having nightmares, and I feel like I've tried everything, you know?" 

"Yeah, I do." Chris gave a weary nod in return; he definitely had similar experiences with dreams throughout his entire life, though he wasn't sure if his were as frequent, and as bad as Leon's. He's heard about them in detail before, and it didn't sound like a pleasant sight to see. He also wasn't an expert when it came to comforting people, so he gently leaned his cup of ice cream towards the other, offering it up with a kindhearted smile. 

Leon let a short chuckle go as he spotted the ice cream, decided to accept the treat, even if it wasn't a flavor he preferred—he didn't mind at all if it was coming from Chris. He pulled out one of the plastic spoons that sat in the side of it, and popped a spoon full into his mouth, pleasantly surprised by it. 

"You'll always have my shoulder to lean on, just know that." The older said whilst taking a bite of his own, happy to have seen his offer of ice cream be taken up. 

"Good, 'cause I'm beat." Leon didn't hesitate much to carefully rest his sleepy head on the side of the other's shoulder, not exactly being able to reach the top due to their slight height difference. He obviously chose to take the Chris's words more literally than figuratively—but hey, the man was exhausted, so what's the harm in it? 

The two decided to stay there, taking in the scenery; sounds of speedy cars rushing by, or the sounds of distant voices and footsteps. It was honestly quite relaxing, and with how tired Leon already was, he was struggling to even keep his eyes open as he took a long awaited rest—which no doubt wouldn't be happening if Chris wasn't here. They made each other feel safe enough to put their guards down for once. It was sort of like having a big fuzzy blanket you could hide yourself under, and you felt as if nobody could touch you. 

"Hey, Chris?" 

"Yeah?" 

"You really don't have to get me a new bike." 

"I want to." 

Leon sighed in defeat, eyes still closed, knowing there was no way he'd win this argument. 

"Maybe Claire was right when she said I use it as an excuse to buy you things, but it's also an excuse to get to see you. Without having to fight bioterrorist's in the same day."  It was true, he was always looking for little ways to try and see or talk to the agent away from anything work related, and it'd become painfully obvious to everyone around that he was trying so hard to spend time with him, well—to everyone but Leon. 

“All you have to do is ask, y’know? It’s no trouble if you ever wanna call me up and hang around, or something. No need to spend your entire life savings on me, Redfield.” He mentally cursed at his own words after some thought over them, wondering if ‘hanging around’ was the right thing to suggest, should he have recommended going out to dinner? Or perhaps another group activity? He was unsure, and the room was a bit hard to read…so, all he could really do was hope for the best. 

“I might just take you up on that, then.” Well, Chris definitely seemed up for it, so…at least he was doing something right. 

—----- 

"That's a keeper." Claire said with a smile of her own as she snapped a good photo of the two men from round the street corner, knowing it was a rare sight they were ever that close in a public setting—and she couldn't wait to see the look on her brother's face once she showed it to him later. 

"How have neither of them asked each other out?" Rebecca asked with absolute disbelief, shaking her head as she finished off her scoop of ice cream.

"Honestly, I thought Leon would be making moves left and right on him, but I realized he talks a bigger game than he's actually got. And that's just based off a few days knowing him." Jill summed it up fairly well as she watched the two, arms crossed with a small smile before she moved her gaze to the other women beside her. "You Redfields are awful at flirting too." 

"She's got a point, I've been around those two long enough to get the feeling that Chris…isn't necessarily great at flirting…" Rebecca chimed in with reluctance. 

"Hey, we're not awful flirters! I can do it just as well as anyone else, and maybe Chris…struggles, but he gets there." Claire defended the both of them with confidence in her voice, one she'd soon come to regret as she attempted trying to come up with a flirt, or pickup line, yet—she found herself stuck with infuriated embarrassment by the end of it. 

"Alright, stop— look, this is how you do it." Jill set her empty cup of melted ice cream down onto the ground, rolling her shoulders back as she stepped a few feet away, then turned around and walked up to the younger Redfield again, who was still speechless. "Hey, wanna go out some time, beautiful?" 

In all honesty, it wasn't that great of a line, and really shouldn't work on anyone. Yet the way Jill said those words—the way she walked with absolute confidence, and her voice was as smooth as ever—it lit something inside Claire that she suddenly couldn't explain, and all she could say was…

"Uh, sure–?" She uttered out with a mix of confusion, surprise, and…an interesting dose of excitement. 

"Great." Jill accepted it, and was content with her work for the day enough to begin walking back—with a flabbergasted Claire and semi entertained Rebecca following—towards the two men who were practically in their own little world—which would soon come to a speedy crash. "Is he asleep…?" She asked in a low voice. 

The sound of Jill's harsh, sudden questioning was enough to jolt Leon awake from his relaxed and peaceful state, swiftly leaving his claimed spot on Chris's shoulder and very quickly deciding to pretend as if that was the last thing he was doing. And totally was not taking an extremely enjoyable nap on his quote on quote ‘friend's’ arm. Yet now he just looked plain freaked out instead of cool and collected. "Where the hell did you all come from–?"

"We were hanging around the corner, just to let you two have some quality time to yourselves.” Rebecca answered with her usual soft tone,  though it was as clear as day she was in on whatever the three of them were conspiring over there. “Well, until Jill had something to say to you, I believe."

Chris audibly sighed, a bit bitter by the fact his moment was abruptly interrupted, but tried in his best efforts to keep calm about it, just for the 50\50 chance that whatever she had to say was important in some way, shape or form.

“What is it?”

“I asked your sister out, and she said sure.” Blunt as ever.

“You what?”

The silence had gotten so thick, you could cut it with a knife. And that soon faded into mindless staring—just waiting for someone to awkwardly cough, or say any sentence at all. Nobody was entirely sure if this was all a planned joke or quite literal. 

“Jill what do you mean? Don’t walk away!” He threw his hands up in utter confusion as he chased after her down the sidewalk, itching to get a straighter answer and much needed context he clearly missed, whilst Rebecca kept on telling them not to banter so close to the busy road. Far too many times.

Leon didn’t give many words to the whole ordeal, and instead chose to simply watch in saddened disappointment as Chris left his side; he had a blatant frown as he put his hands back in his pockets, returning to the same state he’d been in all morning within the blink of an eye. Although he did have one question that took him a bit aback, out of everything that went down. 

“I didn’t know you…well, you know, were into women–?” He tilted his head towards Claire with uncertainty to his own question, even if they’d been close friends for years now—new information still seemed to pop up out of the blue. 

“I didn’t know you were into my brother.” She didn’t even have to look back at him to get her point across, and held back a large smile while doing so. She’d noticed his sudden spring of dismay the moment Chris walked off right away, of course, and couldn’t help but comment on it if no one else would. 

The blond didn’t deny her accusation by any means, and simply took a stand by her side, a chuckle escaping his lips as they watched the other three repartee all across the street, a true sight for sore eyes getting to see them have a bit of fun. 

“I don’t think he knows either.”

[umjamlam]

i keep forgetting that frankie is a potential shipmate for britta.... they would be so cute...

also i read a fic where annie gets together w clair and its!!!! such a good pairing, its canon in my brain

[toadwarts]

Leon has so many partners/datemates and it's so cool he manages that with only two hands and one heart. Love you babygirl

[redroses07]

Just Friends // Stiles Stilinski

Pairing: Stiles Stilinski x Fem!Reader

WC:1.7k

Summary: Stiles is struggling after being controlled by the Nogitsune, and he turns to you for help. But little does he know, it will turn your friendship into so much more. Takes place after season 3. (Allison isn't dead!!!)

Warnings: Swearing, angsty as fuck, sad Stiles, kissing, implied smut if you squint?, PTSD.

A/N: HI GUYS!!! I really like this fic and ofc I hope y'all will too! This is my first time writing about Stiles and I think I did pretty well! As always, enjoy!! And comments and reblogs are appreciated. P.S. lmk if y'all want me to do a part 2 where they tell their friends (Scott's reaction hee hee) - Claire ♡

After Stiles was released from the control of the Nogitsune, things seemed to go back to normal. Well, at least that’s what one would think from the outside.

The series of events had taken a severe toll on Stiles’s mental health, and even though he did a good job of hiding it, you were the one person who seemed to know what he needed.

It all started about a week after everything happened, it was the middle of the night and you were jolted awake by the sound of your phone buzzing by your head.

You were about to hit decline but then you saw it was Stiles and feelings of worry began to stir within you.

You quickly answered, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes as you forced yourself awake.

"Stiles, is everything okay?"

"Yeah...well not really. I hate to ask, but do you think you could drive over to my house. I just really don't want to be alone right now." Stiles's voice was groggy, and laced with exhaustion. The fact alone that he was asking you this made you immediately agree.

You hopped out of bed, not bothering to change out of your pajamas, slipped on your slippers, and you were on your way.

Your house wasn't far from Stiles's, about a five minute drive with no traffic.

You lived directly in the middle of him and Scott, being only a short distance from each. The close proximity was the main reason the three of you had stayed so close throughout your school years.

"Friends", that's all you and Stiles had ever been. Although, neither of you could deny the chemistry between the two of you, risking your friendship never seemed worth it.

It was on this night that all that would begin to change.

When you arrived at Stiles's house, he had left the door unlocked for you so you wouldn't have to fumble around with the spare key in the dark.

You found Stiles laying on his bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. He looked lost in thought, his eyes rimmed with dark circles. It hurt seeing him look so drastically different from the Stiles you knew, and you wanted to do whatever you could to help.

You laid down next to him, your body facing his.

"Hey..." Stiles began, still staring at the ceiling.

"Stiles, what's going on? You know you can trust me with anything right?"

"Yeah...It's just a lot to put into words." Stiles's voice cracked, which told you that he was fighting tears.

You sat up and stiles copied the movement. You were now both facing each other, sitting legs crossed on his bed. You pushed aside the unspoken vow between the two of you and placed his hands in yours. Stiles's breath hitched, and you could tell he was avoiding eye contact with you.

"Take all the time you need, I'll listen to every word." you said softly.

"I know everyone thinks I'm doing okay, but I can't even function. I can't sleep without having nightmares. I can't eat or do anything without remembering all the awful stuff he made me do. I didn't know who else to tell except you. Scott has his own set of issues, and you're the only person I trust like this."

Stiles began to ramble, and your heart broke as he did. How had you not noticed earlier? Yes, it had only been a week, but you knew Stiles better than anyone. You felt like an awful best friend.

"I'm so tired, I just want to feel normal again." He could no longer hold back the tears, the dam broke and Stiles became a sobbing mess.

You pulled him into your arms with no hesitation, which only made Stiles want to cry.

"No, no I'm going to get your clothes all wet." Stiles protested trying to pull away, but you wouldn't let him.

"A few tears never hurt anyone." You said.

At that Stiles let himself fall into you, his body going limp with exhaustion. You tried not to cry along with him, wiping your burning eyes to prevent the tears.

"It'll be okay." You whispered as Stiles's sobs turned into sniffles. He finally looked up, his cheeks wet from the tears that had escaped his puffy eyes.

You did the only thing you could think of and gave him two kisses, one peck on each cheek. Stiles lips turned up in a small smile, his cheeks still turning red despite his current state.

"I think the first thing we need to do is get you to bed." You smiled, pushing Stiles's messy hair back.

He looks at you and nods without moving from your arms. You lean back on his bed, pulling him with you. You positioned yourself to where Stiles was resting on top of your body, his head pressed to your chest. You kept your arms wrapped around him, squeezing his body in an attempt to comfort him.

As you were settling down you heard Stiles whisper your name softly.

"Yeah?"

"Promise you'll wake me up if I'm having a nightmare?"

"I promise." You replied as you reached down and laced your fingers with his.

Stiles gave you a half-hearted smile in response, his puffy eyes glazed over from fatigue.

"Thank you." Stiles murmured, fighting sleep.

"Shhh." Was your only response as you traced your fingers along his back.

"I love you." It was an incoherent whisper, so much that you couldn't be sure of his words. But something told you you had heard correctly.

By the time you went to reciprocate the statement, the room was filled with Stiles's muffled snores.

You sighed and proceeded to fall asleep yourself.

Stiles slept through the night for the first time in weeks.

After that the trajectory of your relationship began to shift.

From holding Stiles's hand to remind him that everything was okay when you were with your friends, to staying up all night listening to him talk.

You rarely got to sleep at home anymore, but you didn't mind. You weren't far if you needed something, and it helped Stiles get a good night's sleep. Yet he would still apologize every time. "I'm sorry to bother you again.", "I promise this is the last time.", when in reality you were definitely okay with an excuse to spend more time with him.

You had become his anchor to reality, and Stiles could feel things beginning to look up with every day that passed.

Your friends picked up on it too.

"So, are you and Stiles together, or..." Lydia and Allison asked when they managed to corner you at your locker one day. It was a question you didn't know how to answer. Eventually landing on, 'it's complicated.'

"What's going on with you and Stiles, I'm starting to feel like a third wheel when we're together." It was a joke, but there was certainly some truth behind it.

You laughed it off and changed the subject, but didn't forget the comment that night when you and Stiles laid in each other's arms drifting off to sleep.

Surprisingly, it wasn't you who finally brought it up, but Stiles.

It was a Friday night, and the two of you were at your house instead of his.

"Shit, I forgot clothes to change into." Stiles said as he fumbled through his backpack.

"It's all good, I have a spare pair of clothes in my drawer for you." You replied, pointing to the dresser.

Stiles smiled and laughed, holding eye contact with you for perhaps a moment too long.

"You take care of so much for me, sometimes I feel like you're my wife." It was a casual statement, but it put you at a loss for words.

You laughed awkwardly, failing to come up with a reply.

Stiles could very clearly read your emotions, he pushed the drawer shut and walked back over to sit next to you.

You tried to calm yourself, but your heart wouldn't stop beating at what felt like an unhealthy pace.

"You're my best friend..." Stiles began, taking your clammy hands in his.

"You've done so much for me in the past few weeks, just like a best friend should; but I can't help thinking that this feels like something more."

You felt as if the world stopped. You knew this conversation would come, but definitely not now. Your brain seemed to stop producing thoughts.

"Please tell me I'm not imagining all of this. I know this is a lot at once, but Y/N I love you." Stiles's voice shook from the overwhelming nerves.

"I love you too." You spoke for the first time in minutes, it felt amazing after you had heard it fall from his lips that first night you spent together.

Stiles's eyes gazed into yours, and suddenly the feeling of just your hands touching wasn't enough.

You reached over and grabbed Stiles face, finally closing the gap between the two of you.

You pulled Stiles down as you did, his body landing on top of you sinking into the kiss.

You tugged on his hair lightly, pulling him as close to you as humanly possible. Stiles fell deeper into the kiss, locking your hands together and pressing your body further into the soft mattress.

After a few minutes of pure bliss you broke apart. The air that filled your lungs was both a blessing and a curse. You needed to breathe, but the absence of his touch only made you want him more.

Stiles hovered over you, the sound of his heavy breathing was the only thing you could hear over your own beating heart.

"So I take it you're not just my best friend anymore?" Stiles giggled, pressing his forehead gently against yours.

"Nope."

You gave a sly smile before pulling Stiles down by his shirt and connecting your lips once more.

[jukeboxsweethearttt]

for older sugar daddy rafe and reader would you write their first argument or something like that

Book of Love

Oldersugardaddyboyfriend!Rafe Cameron x Fem Reader

cw:angst:( but has a fluffy ending, talks of pregnancy, Rafe’s oldest daughter Claire is older than you, Victoria is the same age as you and Hannah is younger than you. no use of y/n I think

inspired by @starfxkr sugar daddy Rafe ofc

The sprawling lawn of Rafe’s Hamptons estate basked in the glow of the setting sun, creating a picturesque scene that starkly contrasted with the storm brewing inside.

The dining room, typically a place of warmth and laughter, was now tense with an unfamiliar strain. You sat at the end of the long, gleaming table, your hands clasped tightly in your lap. Rafe stood across from you, his stance rigid and his eyes filled with frustration.

His three daughters, Claire , Victoria, and Hannah, watched the scene unfold with a mix of concern and unease.

This was the first serious argument you and Rafe had ever had. It had started over the charity gala—a high-profile event you had been working on tirelessly.

“Rafe, I just want to make this event something special, something that showcases what we can achieve together,” you said, your voice trembling slightly.

Rafe, his expression hard, replied, “This isn’t about showcasing us, Bunny. This is about making strategic decisions. You need to understand the stakes involved.”

Claire, the eldest, shifted uncomfortably in her seat. She shared a look with her sisters, Victoria, and Hannah, the youngest of the bunch.

Claire finally spoke up, her tone gentle yet firm. “Dad, she’s trying to help. She’s put a lot of effort into this.”

Rafe’s eyes softened momentarily as he looked at his daughter, but his frustration remained palpable. “I know, Claire, but this is more complicated than just putting in effort. Experience matters here.”

You felt a lump form in your throat. “Rafe, I’m not just some inexperienced kid. I’m trying to contribute, to be a part of this.”

Rafe’s gaze turned steely. “You are young and inexperienced. You don’t get how high the stakes are. This isn’t some game.”

Your heart sank at his words. Tears welled up in your eyes as you struggled to hold back your emotions.

“I can’t believe you see me that way,” you whispered, standing up abruptly. “I thought we were in this together.”

Victoria stood, her face a mix of anger and disappointment. “Dad, you’re being unfair. She’s doing her best.”

Rafe ran a hand through his hair, his frustration boiling over. “Life isn’t fair, Victoria. I’m trying to protect her from making mistakes that could cost us.”

You couldn’t bear it any longer. Tears streaming down your face, you rushed out of the room, the sound of the door slamming echoing through the house.

Claire glanced at her father, shaking her head in disappointment before following you outside.

Rafe stood there, his anger giving way to a heavy silence. Hannah finally spoke up, her voice quiet but firm. “Dad, you really hurt her.”

Outside, Claire found you sitting on a garden bench, your shoulders shaking with sobs. She sat down next to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

“Hey, it’s okay. He didn’t mean it he’s just stressed,” she said softly.

You wiped at your tears, shaking your head. “It’s not okay, Claire. He thinks I’m just some naive child.”

Claire sighed, her heart aching for you. “He’s scared, that’s all. He doesn’t know how to handle this.”

You took a deep, shuddering breath. “I can’t handle all of this stress. There’s something I need to tell you,” you said, your voice barely a whisper.

She looked at you, concern etched on her face. “What is it?”

You met her gaze, your eyes filled with a mix of fear and hope. “I’m pregnant. I just found out a few days ago.”

Claire’s eyes widened in surprise she knows you’ve wanted children of your own but was shocked at the news considering her dad’s age.

Deep down she’s kind of indifferent but pushes those feelings to the side quickly as you started to cry again from her silence.

She quickly pulled you into a tight hug. “Oh my God, that’s news. Have you told him yet?”

You shook your head. “No, I was waiting for the right moment. But now... I don’t know if there ever will be one.”

She pulled back, holding your shoulders. “You need to tell him. It might be exactly what he needs to hear.”

Back inside, Rafe was pacing the living room, his frustration giving way to a deep sense of guilt. Victoria and Hannah watched him, their expressions stern.

“Dad, don’t you think you were a bit harsh?” Victoria asked, her voice steady but reproachful. “She’s part of our family.”

Rafe stopped, his shoulders slumping. “I know, I just... I don’t know how to handle this.”

“You handle it by respecting her,” Hannah said softly. “She’s not a child, Dad. She’s your partner.”

Just then, Claire walked back in with you, your face still streaked with tears but your resolve stronger. Rafe looked up, his heart aching at the sight of you so upset.

“I’m sorry,” Rafe began, but you held up a hand to stop him.

“Before you say anything, there’s something I need to tell you,” you said, your voice steady. “I’m pregnant, Rafe.”

The room fell silent, Rafe’s eyes widening in shock. He took a step towards you, his expression softening. “You’re... you’re pregnant?”

You nodded, tears spilling over once more. “I found out a few days ago. I wanted to tell you in a special way, but...”

Rafe closed the distance between you, pulling you into his arms. “I’m so sorry, baby. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I’m just... scared. Scared of not being good enough.”

You looked up at him, your eyes filled with love and determination. “We’re in this together, Rafe. We can make it work, but you have to trust me. Trust us.”

Rafe nodded, his eyes brimming with tears. “I promise. I’ll do better. I’ll trust you, and I’ll be there for you and our baby.”

Claire, Victoria, and Hannah watched the exchange, their expressions softening with relief but making a mental note to discuss this sudden pregnancy announcement later.

The tension in the room began to dissipate, replaced by a sense of hope and renewed commitment.

Later that evening, you found yourself in the kitchen, helping Victoria prepare dinner.

Victoria glanced over at you, offering a small smile. “I’m so happy that you stood up to him,” she said softly. “Dad needed a wake-up call.”

You returned her smile, feeling a warm sense of acceptance. “Thanks, Victoria. It means a lot that you understand.”

Meanwhile, in the living room, Rafe sat with Claire and Hannah. Claire leaned forward, her expression serious but kind.

“Dad, she’s good for you. We see how happy she makes you, but you have to let her grow up. She’s got a good head on her shoulders.”

Rafe nodded, his eyes thoughtful. “I know, Claire. I just… I’ve spent so much time trying to protect everyone that sometimes I forget to let go. I’ll work on it.”

Hannah, who had been quiet until now, chimed in. “We all want the best for you, Dad. And for her. Just remember, she chose to be with you because she loves you, not because she needs a protector.”

Their words resonated with Rafe, who realized just how much he had to learn about balancing his protective instincts with respecting your independence.

He stood up, feeling a mixture of gratitude and determination. “You’re right. All of you. I’m lucky to have you four looking out for me.”

Back in the kitchen, Victoria was dishing up the last of the pasta when Rafe entered. He walked over to you, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead.

“I’ve been talking with the girls,” he said, his voice soft and earnest. “And they’ve made me see things more clearly. I need to let you live your life, make your own choices. I’m so proud of you for standing up to me.”

You looked up at him, your heart swelling with love and relief. “Thank you, Rafe. That means a lot to me.”

Dinner was a warm, lively affair. The five of you sat around the table, sharing stories and laughter. The earlier argument seemed like a distant memory, replaced by a stronger sense of family and mutual respect.

Claire and Victoria teased Hannah about her latest crush, while Rafe kept his hand on yours under the table, a silent promise of his commitment to change.

As the evening wore on, you found yourself sitting on the balcony with Rafe, the moon twinkling above. He wrapped his arm around you, pulling you close.

“You know, Bunny, I’ve never felt this way before. You’ve brought so much joy into my life.”

You rested your head on his shoulder, feeling content and secure. “And you’ve given me a life I never dreamed possible, Rafe. I’m so grateful for you.”

Rafe tilted your chin up, looking deeply into your eyes. “I promise to always support you, to let you be your own person. We’re partners in this, equal partners.”

You kissed him softly, the love between you palpable. “Thank you, Daddy. That’s all I ever wanted.”

As you both sat there, you felt a deep sense of peace. The argument had brought you closer, teaching you both valuable lessons about trust and love. And as Rafe held you close, you knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you would face them together.

The next morning, Rafe surprised you with breakfast in bed, a gesture that made your heart flutter. He sat beside you, watching you eat with a content smile.

“I thought we could spend the day together, just the two of us. How does that sound, Princess?”

You grinned, feeling the excitement bubble up inside you.

[selmasemlan]

Epic encounters - A Marcel Gerard FanFic

Series master list

This is a story about a girl, who finds herself in a world filled with all sorts of powerful creatures. And while she's at it, she meets a prince trying to become a king. And their love would be known by all.

Pairing: Marcel Gerard x Luna Salvatore (OFC)

Univers: Crossover of The Vampire Diaries + Teen Wolf (+ very lightly Supernatural)

Author note: I'll try to put everything in chronological order of the story. This will include random moments in the lives of Luna and Marcel. It's a story about two individuals in love who grow together and separately as people. With some changes, the plot will follow the shows Teen Wolf and The Originals. There will be a lot of original (my own) plot.

If you guys have any requests for this series, let me know. I'm open to everything.

Warning: Elena bashing (never liked her, so won't even pretend here), angst, light Scott bashing (have a hate-love to him), softness of soft, series situations and conversations, PTSD, mental health, betrayal, mention of abuse and harassment.

Info about the universe

Info we have right now

Couples in Marcel x Luna Universe

The Story

Before season 3 of Teen Wolf and season 3 of The Vampire Diaries

Crash into something epic - The First Meeting

Summary: Stefan, facing his mortality, implores Damon to promise to spend the summer with Luna for her happiness. Reluctantly agreeing, Damon and Luna's journey to New Orleans unfolds, leading to an unexpected encounter with Marcel Gerard, marking the beginning of a potentially life-changing adventure.

Serendipity in the Crescent City

Summary: Marcel knows there is something between him and Luna, he just needs a chance.

Echoes of Love

Summary: Marcel asks Luna about her past before the Salvatores

Be mine

Summary: In the enchanting summer air of New Orleans, Marcel and Luna's deepening friendship blossoms into a romantic relationship when Marcel asks Luna to be his girlfriend

Summer Rain and Promises

Summary: Luna is leaving for Beacon Hills

During Season 3 of Teen Wolf and Season 3 of The Vampire Diaries

The Bond That Isn't Broken

Summary: How is it that Klaus knows and respects Luna. You're about to find out.

Winterbreak Breakfast Bickering

Summary: It´s winterbreak, and the Salvatore siblings are having breakfast.

Too Soon, But So Right

Summary: A night that almost leads to more, but those that wait, never wait too long

One call away

Summary: A video call between Luna and Marcel brings comfort and love, bridging the distance between them on a challenging day.

Revelation in the Woods

Summary: Deucalion lets Luna know what she is

Confrontation Under the Moonlight

Summary: Luna shows Deucalion who she is and who she will always be

Introducing the partner to the brothers

Summary: Luna introduces Stiles and Isaac to Marcel

Shadows of Betrayal

Summary: Possessed by the Nogitsune, Luna unleashes a wave of dark energy against her friends, her vision blurred and actions twisted by a sinister force. In a moment of lucidity, she pleads for a way to stop the destruction, but Scott's harsh decision to knock her out leaves Isaac determined to save her, his heart heavy with sorrow and resolve.

Luna's Triumph Over Shadows

Summary: In a harrowing mental battle against the Nogitsune, Luna Salvatore confronts her deepest fears and emerges victorious, fortified by her inner strength and the unwavering support of her loved ones. Her resolve to face the future is strengthened, knowing she is no longer alone in her fight against the darkness.

During season 1 of The Originals, season 4 of Teen Wolf and a little of season 4 of The Vampire Diaries

In the Arms of New Orleans Part 2

Summary: Stefan and Rebekah rush Luna to Marcel's arms in New Orleans after a near-fatal attack, finding solace and protection in his embrace.

The Queen of New Orleans

Summary: As Elijah tries to make peace across the supernatural community of New Orleans, an important factor joins the game

Exes

Summary: In a cozy evening setting, Luna playfully prompts Marcel to share about his past relationships, leading to a heartfelt conversation where they both open up about their exes and reflect on the importance of trust and respect in their budding romance. Amidst candlelight and shared vulnerabilities, they deepen their bond and solidify their commitment to each other, finding solace and strength in their mutual honesty and connection.

During season 2 of The Originals

Moonlight in New Orleans

Summary: Marcel and Luna share a tender, moonlit dance in his New Orleans loft, finding solace and reaffirming their love amidst the city's vibrant energy and their own recent turmoil.

A trip to France

Summary: A trip to Paris with the troublesome trio, leaders to, you guessed it, trouble.

Moonlight Conversations

Summary: A conversation about the future shows us how much Marcel and Luna love each other.

Playing Cupid - Damon x Bonnie

Summary: When your siblings decide to play cupid, but it doesn't go as planned

Playing Cupid 2

Summary: Over winter break, Luna, Stiles, and Isaac visit Mystic Falls and, while staying with Damon and Stefan Salvatore, they concoct humorous and heartfelt plans to bring Stefan and Rebekah together.

Moonlight and Warrior

Summary: When did Luna go from Sunshine to Moonlight, a nickname conversation.

4 moments Luna flinched

Summary: 4 moments where Luna shows how her trauma effects her in her everyday life

During season 3 of The Originals

Reunited at Marcel's Loft

Summary: Luna and Marcel, reunited in the warmth of his loft after time apart, share a deeply emotional and intimate night, reaffirming their unbreakable bond through tender embraces, passionate kisses, and whispered declarations of love.

​​The Calm Before the Full Moon

Summary: Klaus has a ranting session with Luna

Art Exhibit

Summary: We meet a familiar face, someone Luna thought she would never have to see again.

Dance of Shadows

Summary: The Strix has arrived, and Marcel and Luna face them together.

A Parents approval 

Summary: In the depths of the Mikaelson mansion, Luna's earnest defense of Marcel's loyalty leads to a rare moment of understanding and approval between Klaus and Marcel, ultimately strengthening their bond and affirming Luna's place in the family.

Babysitting Hope

Summary: Luna and Marcel get to babysit and Klaus gets to see a side of Marcel that he has never seen before.

Not like this

Summary: Luna is worried that it´s too dangerous

Sacrifice

Summary: Luna and Marcel are trying to save Davina, Freya and Elijah only care for their own, so our super couple step up

Promises Made

Summary: A tense evening unfolds as Luna's deep anxiety leads her to urge Marcel to take extreme precautions before a dangerous meeting, fearing for his safety and their future together.

Near death's door (Part 2 of Promises Made)

Summary: Luna's worst fears almost come true as she and Klaus face a terrifying moment of grief, but luck is still on their side

More coming soon.......

[justtoomuch]

could you draw for claire x jill? i absolutely adore your art💗

Ofc!!

[gtgbabie0]

Hello! ~~ so since i saw this cute video i cant get this idea out of my head ( the video was basically a cat laying on a girl stomach and it was not getting up cause she senced her owner beinv pregnant and that video was jus adorable 🥺) but what if the group( Jill, Chris, Claire, Rebecca) is hanging out at someone place and ofc Leon and the reader is there as well and as the reader sit down the cat instantly gose to her does the same, plus the cat doesn't leaves her side? I just genuinely find this idea adorable soo m8ch 🥺🥺🥺

- Leon Kennedy x reader

{Claire’s cat doesn’t once leave your side, and Leon finds it adorable}

Ack! This is too cute!! Thank you for requesting as always lovely! Enjoy💕

CW// reader is pregnant

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“Do want anything to drink, sweetheart?” Leon asks, turning to you as Claire and Chris walk into the kitchen, his thumb smoothing over your knuckles. He wouldn’t let you do anything with you being heavily pregnant, he even barred you from cooking. You learned rather quickly that it was useless to fight him on it, no instead, you took great advantage of it.

His hand soothed over the curve of your stomach with a bright smile, “Something sweet would be nice, if Claire has anything sweet” you say, and Leon nods pressing a kiss to your forehead, he lets his lips linger there for a moment.

“I’m sure she’s got something,” he tells you before getting up and joining the siblings in the kitchen.

You glance down at Claire's big tabby cat that was sat by your feet, she hadn’t moved an inch since you sat down, that was until now. You watch as she jumps up beside you curling up on your lap with her head resting against the bump of your tummy.

You smile scratching behind her ear as she purrs, rubbing her head against your tummy. “Aww! Leon look!” Claire beams as she carries a bowl of sweets into the living room.

You watch as Leon’s eyes light up. He chuckles. walking over to you with a glass of cold apple juice, “Here you go angel” he says handing you the glass as you thank him softly, he takes a seat next to you.

The ginger cat doesn’t move an inch, not even when Claire sits down, instead she only nuzzles herself further into your side.

Claire watches and she swears her heart might just melt at the sweet interaction. She can’t help but let out a loud chuckle as the tabby cat shoots Leon a mean-looking glare causing him to retreat his hand.

“She’s protecting you,” Chris says to you, sitting down as he shovels some gummies into his mouth.

“From what?” Leon asks, sending a glare back at the cat, you giggle as you reach for his hand, your thumb soothing over the bump of his knuckles.

“No it’s because she knows you’re pregnant that’s why, she’s a smart cat” Claire adds, taking your now empty glass from your hand before you even have time to lean over and set it down on the coffee table.

The tabby cat doesn’t once move, not an inch not even when your baby kicks and as time goes on she reluctantly lets Leon sit closer to you, his hand holding yours in hopes the kitty might just get the hint that Leon isn’t a threat.

The sun starts to set and you can’t even get near Claire’s door as the cat doesn’t leave your side, walking beside you as you collect your things, she lets out an almost worried ‘meow’ as Claire picks her up.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of her” Leon smiles at the tabby, stroking behind her ear. "She's in good hands"

You smile as Leon’s hand rests on the small of your back. Claire walks over to you with her cat in her arms, “Don’t worry I’ll be fine” You smile down at the furry friend petting her gently, you sniffle trying to hold back the tears as you make your way to Leon’s car before saying your final goodbyes.

It’s only when Leon starts the car do the tears finally start to fall, “Whoa, hey- baby what’s going on? Are you okay?” Leon worries, his hand going to hold yours.

You nod your head wiping your tears, “No- yeah, I’m fine it’s just Claire’s cat, is she going to be worrying about me all night?” You ask sniffling and Leon tries so hard to bite back the laugh that wedges in the back of his throat.

“Oh baby- she’ll be fine I promise, Claire will take good care of her” he promises, taking your hand gently as he presses kisses to your knuckles, smiling against the back of your hand.

“Don’t laugh at me Leon, I’m emotional,” you tell him, and he glances over at you as he stops at a red light.

“M’not” he mumbles and you both break out in giggles, his hand resting against your thigh as he drives you both home.

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