Just Had My First Failed Experiment. Scratching My Brain Now Wondering What Could Have Caused It To Not

just had my first failed experiment. scratching my brain now wondering what could have caused it to not work

false alarm, it actually worked. it just wasn't showing on 1/3 analysis methods for some reason

just had my first failed experiment. scratching my brain now wondering what could have caused it to not work

arm's length

cc!Charlie Slimecicle x gn!reader

Synopsis: After several soured friendships and failed relationships, you grew to hold people at arm’s length. But Charlie threatens to break down your walls brick by brick and hold you in his arms.

Warning(s): mild angst, mentions of past failed/soured relationships/friendships, not a happy ending.

Word count: 965

A/N: Sorry for disappearing, I was too locked in to lab work and then went on holiday. I had a sudden burst of inspiration after coming back, so here this is (I promise I’ll get to that one request and my hero!Charlie sequel). The writing style in this one is a little more descriptive than usual, and I blame it on me reading The Lies of Locke Lamora.

masterlist || request guidelines

You used to wear your heart on your sleeve, arms wide open to welcome any newcomer into your bubble of friendship.

Your cheer and openness to making new friends was infectious, until some people took advantage of it and turned it into your very own disease.

From one soured friendship to another failed relationship, it didn't take you long to realise that not everybody was as they seemed, and not everyone returned your bright charity with equal vigour. Some assumed you were easily walked over. Others simply left once they were bored.

So, you started holding people at arm’s length. Sure, there remained a few in your close circle whom you call your real friends. Sure, you still responded to everyone with equal cheer and sincerity. But a wariness hid behind your eyes, and you stopped being as open, as naive as you once were.

Then Charlie entered your life. He was introduced to you through Ranboo and Moonzy. A friend of a friend (of a friend, if you considered how it was your long-term best friend Moonzy introduced you to Ranboo several years prior).

He was bright, witty, and sincere as far as he was letting on. Even with the jokes and bits he created, there was a certain groundedness to him. You could see why Ranboo and Moonzy were such good friends with him.

But the little voice at the back of your head told you to keep your walls up.

Especially when your heart started fluttering every time you were in the same room as him. Especially when the warmth of his words threatens to melt down your defences.

Especially when he looked you in the eye like he could see into your very soul.

You had agreed to visit Charlie’s home to play some games together against your better (was it really better?) judgement. Neither Ranboo nor Moonzy were around as a buffer. So, when Charlie fixed you with the most genuinely serious stare you had ever seen on his face after your multiple attempts to shrug off his flirty banter and prying questions, you had no one turn to for help.

“Why do you do that?” Charlie asks, his controller resting on the table as the It Takes Two pause menu song plays softly in the background.

“Do what?”

You fiddle with the joystick of your controller absentmindedly, desperate to stall for time to think of some excuse because you absolutely knew what he was referring to. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Charlie raise an eyebrow at your bluff.

“You always deflect my banters,” he starts to list slowly, “you always dodge out of my hugs even though no one else does. I envy every single time you smile at Moonzy and Ranboo because you give them the brightest, widest smile that never seems to get thrown my way. Every time I think we’re getting closer as friends, I hit a glass wall. Almost as though,” he swallows, “you don’t want to be friends?”

You wince. Holding people at arm’s length was meant to protect you from being hurt by others. Was it possible you were hurting your own friend by doing so?

“If I didn’t want to be your friend, I wouldn’t have come here to play games with you,” you mumble, suddenly finding the grooves and buttons of the controller extremely interesting.

An inhale, then exhale from Charlie.

“So, you don’t hate me.”

His extreme statement causes you to snap your head to look at him.

“What?” you protest. “I don’t hate you. Why – ”

“Then why?” he pleads. You see the questions swimming behind his eyes. The desperation of a man trying to make sense of why their friend seemed so close yet so far away. “Why do you always dodge out of my way? Why don’t you want to spend time together? Why do you always put this distance between us?”

“Because – ” and the words spill out before you can stop yourself “ – if I hold you at arm’s length; if we never become anything more than friends, or barely friends, then I can never be hurt or disappointed. I can never be tricked or walked over.”

The downcast look on Charlie’s face makes you regret your words. More questions seem to surface behind his eyes as he stares at you, pleading for a friendship that you seem to be self-destructively tearing down on your end.

The jenga tower of your shaky friendship was already wobbling, and you were taking out a disproportionate number of bricks out from your side.

You’re standing up before Charlie can ask any more questions. You leave the controller on his desk, the cheerful soundtrack still playing in the background. He doesn’t stop you from grabbing your belongings, doesn’t stop you from stepping out the door.

You reckoned this was the first time you’d left behind a friendship before things turned sour. You reasoned with yourself that this was a smart move, to leave before you could get hurt. You rationalised that this was in your best interest.

But was it really in your best interest, when the man of your interest was sitting in his room with hurt blossoming in his heart?

BEST DECISION MADE EVER i think it was the most fun gig i've ever been to!!!!

made an impulsive decision in jan to buy good kid gig ticket, now i'm in amsterdam!

Slimecicle uploaded to Slmccl on October 1st!

tws: death, squirrel things

sorry for not posting recently, ive been really busy with work and then really sick.

charlie when you’re on your period i am on my KNEES 🙏🙏🙏

took an ikkle bit of creative liberty here and just thought fuck it lets go through the whole cycle

enjoy (pls)

- afab reader but! gn throughout :)

˙⋆✮ hcs: charlie slimecicle vs your cycle ⭑.ᐟ

⋆.˚ menstruation: - 100% researching, buying, making any and every cramp relief tool, remedy or ‘cure’ he can find

- gentlest pawing at your tender chest, soft kisses when you whine at the sharp sensation

- running to your side with painkillers every time you so much as mention a hint of a headache coming on, seriously considering jumping over the couch to get to you quicker until he remembers the glass of water in his hands

- world-class expert at dealing with the mood swings, recognising your highs and lows, attuning himself accordingly - knows how and when to stay off your nerves, with your increased irritability

- more or less becoming a human taxi around the house when you’re tired, arms slid underneath your thighs as your legs envelop his body, carrying you from room to room

- heating pad ready for you at all times

⋆.˚ follicular/ovulation: - stumbling behind you when your energy comes back, gladly being dragged along whenever you decide you’re in a social mood

- used to getting his bones jumped by now, but never expects, or prepares for, the ferocity with which you’ll tackle him onto the bed ⤷ “i think you just cracked a rib,” he wheezes out, twinkling eyes trailing up your looming body. you press your splayed palms to his chest for a moment, "oh. is that hot?” "..kinda, yeah,” he nods, meek.

- visibly melting in adoration whenever the sun catches your glowing skin (yes he did almost run the two of you off the road once because he was distracted. what about it. let a guy appreciate the love of his life)

⋆.˚ luteal: - tries his best not to laugh when you’re sat in a ‘de-bloating position’; legs to the wall, back to the floor, arms outstretched to your sides ⤷ “it works!” you insist, glaring at him from where he stands, snickering in the doorway. "you look like a life alert ad, babe.”

- adhering to your every craving, as confusing or disgustingly unhealthy as they are

- stays awake with you when you’re struggling to sleep, pulling you in tight to his chest, refusing to so much as shut his eyes until he’s sure you’re gone

- constantly shutting you down when your ego dips, and your insecurities come out to play, assuring you you’re being entirely nonsensical, that you could never look like “that big foreheaded bitch from nightmare before christmas” (”dr finklestein?” “dr fuckasstein” “i worry about you.”)