Hi! Can I request some Clarice Starling x female reader headcanons? Fluff would be fine with me :)
Clarice Starling/Fem!Reader Fluff Headcanons
OMGOMGOMG I'm so excited. My first ever SotL req! Thank you anon for making my dreams a reality.
Divider by @/lupineshieldmaiden
Meeting her in a shared abnormal psych course at UVA. Spending the first half of the term sitting next to her, too scared to make a move, until you have to pair up to write and peer review each other's final projects.
What starts as a few hours in the library once a week gradually morphs into whole afternoons and evenings at your dorm or hers, poring over each others' projects and only taking a break to stumble to the dining hall. She initially likes your no-nonsense attitude, and as the term progresses, she learns that she also likes the way that you dress; your analytical mind; your thirst for knowledge; the slope of your nose; the curve of your fingers around your pen as you annotate her paper. She gradually begins to steer conversation away from your projects and toward your shared interests. She has other free periods- what's a little last-minute cramming if it means she gets to hear more about how you almost burned the house down when you were six?
You notice that she's not actively packing to go home before Thanksgiving break, nor is she talking about any plans to see family, and after some wheedling from you, she admits to not having anywhere to go. Her mouth quirks into a self-conscious smirk as she mumbles, "Nowhere worthwhile, anyway."
Oh. Oh, you're not gonna let that slide. She's either coming home with you or you're using the dorm's shared kitchen to make something- even if it's just roasted chicken and baked potatoes with a couple of cans of soda on the side. She won't sit idle, either. Whether you're home with the family or it's just you and her, she's rolling up her sleeves and helping with the vegetables. She'll eat meat that's cooked by someone else, but her time at the farm has made her averse to prepping it herself.
You move into an apartment together after you graduate (both of you still insisting that you're just friends), and quickly fall into a routine that reminds you a bit too much of an old married couple. Neither of you comment on it.
Despite her extensive training and years spent getting up at 04:00 on the farm, she is NOT a morning person. Groans when the alarm goes off and grumbles her way into your apartment's tiny kitchen
Became a coffee snob after almost a decade of the slop she had to drink in school. You buy the groceries, but whenever she runs out of beans, she has to cough up that extra $16. You reap all of the benefits, of course.
Spending any slow mornings sitting on a thrifted barstool, the heat vent under the kitchen island warming your bare feet as you watch Clarice dart about the kitchen. She leans over the other side of the island and tells you about the dumb things that came across her desk the day before while you nurse mugs of rich, chocolatey coffee that barely needs any add-ins to taste good.
All of her suits are strictly for the office and take up less than a third of the closet. The rest is filled with thick sweaters in the winter, and those are exchanged for boxy, colorful, short-sleeved button ups in the summer. All of these are unofficially free game for you to steal, and she might take something of yours when she has to fly to Baltimore for a few weeks.
She can dance, but she doesn't readily volunteer that information. It'll take at least three months of living together for you to learn that she's good at it- and that's only after the two of you reluctantly agree to go to a friend's 22nd birthday party and she's had a few beers. Hears a song she recognizes, drags you into the sorority house's cramped living room, and just takes the lead. Whether or not you're a dancer, she's guiding you into twists and turns you've never taken before, leading you with practiced ease. Both of you end the evening sweaty and out of breath, giggling and leaning on each other for support as you walk home in the thick October fog.
Avid reader, but she doesn't keep any permanent books in your apartment. Has a library card and a tiny legal pad full of titles and authors that she likes so she can check them out again later. If you have a book collection, she tries to give at least a few of your novels a shot- even if they aren't a genre she gravitates toward.
Entertains the idea of writing in her free time, but getting a personal computer would mean clearing out almost half of her bedroom or sacrificing part of the dining table. She hems and haws about it for years before you surprise her with a tiny PC for Christmas. When she doesn't come home from work dead on her feet, you can hear the quiet tap of the keyboard well into the night.
Chronic DIYer. The sink's leaking? She's not calling a plumber- she's asking someone she knows about how to fix it and going at it herself. You made a hole in the drywall because you got distracted and rammed the handle of the vacuum cleaner into it? You're suddenly the proud owners of a jumbo putty knife and a huge roll of drywall tape. Likes the sense of accomplishment and independence it gives her, and your amused grin as she shows off the results of her latest project makes all of the trial and error worth it.
One downside of her independent streak is that she thinks she can take on the world single-handedly. She came back from Ohio quieter- confidence shaken, but not shattered. She kept her experience under wraps for the better part of a year, quietly struggling through nightmares and bouts of insomnia, before she finally broke down and told you what really happened.
You never asked- never pushed- just waited and held her up without her asking for your help until she was ready to talk to you. You listen without interrupting for the better part of the night, and when she finally finishes her story, she seems to retreat inward. Internally, she's tensed and waiting for your pity. For you to coo and fuss over her and tell her that no one should have to go through such things. Or, worse, for you to push her away and say that she never should have told you any of it. But you've never been a predictable person.
You nod once, eyes filled with soft determination, and she feels gentle fingers sliding over the nape of her neck as you pull her in for the softest kiss of her life- the first one you've ever shared.
"Chinese or Thai?" You mutter against her lips.
"What?"
"Do you want Chinese or Thai?" You chuckle, leaning back just far enough for her to look into your eyes and feel instant relief at what she sees.
You're not going to coddle her or reject her. Experiences like hers are part of the job, and you'd already internalized that while she was away. She grins, and her hands tremble with excited nerves as they settle on your waist.
"Chinese," She breathes, a bit more of her accent emerging as she eyes your lips, "An' another one of those kisses, if you've got the time."
If Clarice Starling from Silence of the Lambs was the one assigned to escort Ellie Williams to the Fireflies, how would they fare compared to Joel?
Gets emotionally attached / successfully escorts Ellie to the hospital
Gets emotionally attached / dies on the way to the hospital
Doesn’t get emotionally attached / successfully escorts Ellie to the hospital
Doesn’t get emotionally attached / dies on the way to the hospital
Regardless of attachment, they survive the trip but Ellie dies under their care
Voting ended onFeb 19
Propaganda:
Clarice is an extremely skilled and intellectual fbi agent! I think she’d get attached to Ellie after a while.
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How would she have handled the Firefly hospital massacre:
I think she’d either 1. Try to handle the shootout herself or 2. Call for backup fbi agents somehow if possible to help give her a hand in saving Ellie :)
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Do you want to submit a potential protector for Ellie? Click here if you do!
