Cc!charlie Slimecicle - Tumblr Posts

I’m a dance major (and I’m not) 5 6 7 8!

Charlie Slimecicle x fem!reader

Theatre kid au

Synopsis: You and Charlie have been best friends ever since you met in your high school’s theatre club in freshman year. Since then, you were inseparable, even though you were a techie, and he was an actor.

Or, tech week goes really well, with a little luck.

Warning(s): swearing, cuticle picking, slight anxiety, high school theatre tech week.

Word count: 1.5k

A/N: In loving memory of all the high schools that recently finished tech week (I am not American I only saw any of this on TikTok) (Also I assume those TikToks pertain to American high schools? I actually don’t know sorry) (I hope people get the title LOL it's the sound I saw some people used). And thank you to the wonderful @fullofgutsndopamine for beta-ing this for me :)

As a wise man once said, behind every great actor is an exasperated techie.

That wise man was truly wise, because you could find nothing better to encapsulate the current state of your friendship with Charlie.

You were sitting in a pile of wires, trying to hold on to a shred of sanity because who the fuck sorted these wires yesterday, when your goofball of a best friend stumbles into the theatre.

“Y/N!” cries Charlie, practically sprinting towards you with enough energy to power a sun.

“Charlie,” you deadpan, not even looking up from your sorting because whoever coiled these wires needed to be strangled by one –

“Y/N, I’m having a crisis,” he cries again, dramatically flopping at your feet on the carpeted floor of the high school’s auditorium. He reaches for a wire, presumably to start strangling himself, and you snatch it back from him with an annoyed tch.

“So am I,” you deadpan again. “I have no idea who touched these wires last, but they’re tangled as shit and I need to sort them and coil them before rehearsal today.”

In your peripheral vision, you see Charlie freeze in place as a guilty expression takes over his face.

“Charlie.”

“Y/N.”

Exasperatedly, you pause your sorting and stare at him.

“Did you coil the wires last?”

Silence, and you see Charlie’s eyes dart between yours and the pile of tangled wires on the floor, then:

“Maybe?”

You should have let him strangle himself with the wire.

“Charlie, you’re not even a techie!”

“I’m sorry!” He throws his hands in the air. “You guys were so busy after rehearsal, and Nate was shouting, ‘Can somebody help keep the wires!’, and nobody else was free, and the security guard was minutes away from chasing us out, so I volunteered myself.”

You stare at your best friend for a second, absorbing the flurry of words that had just tumbled out of his mouth, before leaning over to flick his forehead.

“Ow!” he complains, holding his forehead.

“Karma’s a bitch,” you say without bite.

“I guess no good deed goes unpunished, huh,” he laments.

“We’re not even doing Wicked, nerd.”

“We should! I would make a great Elphaba.”

Charlie begins to sing the climax of Defying Gravity. You smack his shoulder before he can get too far.

“Shut up, idiot, you’re going to ruin your vocal cords before rehearsals even start.”

“Aw you care,” Charlie coos at you, reaching up to pinch your cheek.

You lean back as you try to bat his hand away, only to tumble over your pile of wires. Your groan is interrupted by a fit of laughter from Charlie.

“Now it’s even more tangled,” you complain.

“Hey, hey.”

You glare at Charlie as he scoots over to you to pull you back to sitting.

“You’re looking a little tied up, want some help?”

“I will strangle you – ”

Your voice cuts off when you catch a glimpse of the clock on the wall of the auditorium. You had fifteen minutes till the rest of your crew would start to stream in for rehearsal. You don’t even realise that you had started picking at your cuticles until gentle hands pry yours apart.

You exchange glances with Charlie, your best friend, your partner-in-crime, your actor to your techie. And you know immediately that he has clocked your anxiety for the impending disaster that would be the rehearsal if you don’t get the wires sorted in time.

“C’mon,” his voice is gentle. “I’ll help you and we’ll sort them a little faster. Just tell me what to do.”

The two of you sort and coil the wires in comfortable silence, shoulders brushing whenever one of you leans to grab a wire that was just a little too far away. With two pairs of hands, the wires are sorted and coiled just in time for the first people to start streaming into the auditorium.

You’re gathering the wires in your arms and about to rush off when Charlie stops you.

“Wait, I have – ” he interrupts himself, shooting you a sheepish, almost embarrassed grin as he rummages through his pockets. You look at him expectantly, but the look melts into one of fondness as he pulls out a small keychain shaped like a tech headset.

“It’s a good luck charm for you,” he says proudly.

Your mouth falls slightly open in shock.

“For tech week?”

“For tech week.”

God, you guys were such theatre kids.

“I didn’t get anything for you,” you say, warmth rising in your neck.

Charlie shrugs as he moves to hand it to you, but when he realises that your arms are too full to take it, he bends and clips the keychain to the belt loop of your jeans.

“I don’t need a keychain when I have you!” he says as he pats your shoulders good-naturedly.

You’re saved from having to give him a proper reaction when somebody yells for Charlie to get backstage to prepare. So, you mouth “Thank you” to Charlie just before the two of you are swept up by the whirlwind of chaos that was tech week rehearsal.

In your three years of friendship with Charlie, the two of you had never really gotten gifts for each other, much less good luck charms. But then again, it was your last tech week of your high school career, so maybe you did need it.

Equipped with a good luck charm from your best friend, you were sure that tech week was going to go just fine.

-

As it turns out, you really did need the good luck charm.

Over the week, several episodes of misfortune occurred. First, part of the set piece fell apart during a climax scene. Then, two of the leads’ mics stopped working during two separate rehearsals. Subsequently, two ensemble members sprained their ankles tripping over a prop. In a completely unrelated incident (lie), you now had a broken bench that needed to be fixed. Lastly, you got chased out by the security guard before the techies could keep all of the equipment. You returned the next day to find three wires and a wireless mic set missing.

All in all, it was tech week. And somehow, you got out of it alive.

By some miracle, the set pieces and props were easily fixed. The two ensemble members had gotten injured at the beginning of the week, so by the end of it their ankles were much better, and both were ready to perform. Another techie found the missing wires and mic at the beginning of the last day of tech week by sheer luck when she was cleaning out the backstage area.

You suppose you should thank Charlie for the good luck charm.

You didn’t get much time alone with your best friend during tech week, the both of you being too caught up with your various responsibilities as an actor and techie. So, by the end of tech week, it was safe to say you missed your best friend.

“And that’s a wrap for tech week!”

Your director’s words are met with cheers from your whole crew. Tech week was over, nothing burned down, and you were officially less than 24 hours to opening night.

Charlie finds you as you’re packing your bag, his own bag sitting on his shoulders.

“Hey,” he greets.

“Hey,” you return, bumping his shoulder. “I feel like I haven’t seen you in a week.”

He rubs the back of his neck as he replies, “Yeah, it’s been a crazy week, huh?”

You hum in agreement, before unclipping the keychain he gave you and holding it out to him.

“Turns out I really did need the good luck charm. I don’t think I would’ve made it through otherwise, so, thank you. Now’s your turn to have the keychain for opening night.”

He chuckles, reaching forward and taking it from you. Then, he’s grabbing you by the belt loop and pulling you closer, clipping the keychain back onto your belt loop.

“What – Charlie – ”

“I told you, I already have my good luck charm,” he says sincerely, gazing into your eyes.

The two of you are close, standing inside each other’s personal bubble. You’re acutely aware of Charlie’s hand hovering over your hip where he had clipped the keychain. You’re also aware that you’re so close you can see specks of green in his blue eyes.

“Charlie,” you whisper. “What does that mean?”

His smile line crinkles as he says, “How about I tell you after opening night?”

There’s a quiet moment as he studies your face for your reaction.

“Okay,” you reply.

You’re not sure what drives you to do your next action – maybe because you missed your best friend and the stress of tech week and opening night were getting to you – but you’re pulling Charlie in for a hug before you can stop yourself.

“A hug for good luck,” you blurt out.

For an embarrassing second, Charlie doesn’t move. Then he wraps his arms around you and squeezes you.

The two of you pull away, smiling.

“You’re gonna smash it tomorrow, Charlie.”

“So are you.”

“I think I’d rather not smash anything,” you joke.

Charlie shoves you slightly, and the two of you are chuckling.

The biggest event of your senior year was happening in less than 24 hours. And the two of you were going to get through it by the power of friendship and good luck charms.

Life’s too short not to rizz up the beautiful stranger in the club

Charlie Slimecicle x fem!reader

Synopsis: Charlie rizzes you up in a club (respectfully).

Warning(s): drinking alcoholic beverages, clubbing (no grinding! Leave space for Jesus, kids), swearing.

Word count: 1.7k

A/N: Just a little fic inspired by Charlie’s new clubbing arc (he posted going to the club once). Also, I’ve only ever been to the club once and have never interacted with anybody outside my group of friends there so if this is super inaccurate, I am sorry.

masterlist here!

The bass boosted music shook the room as Charlie danced amongst his friends. Sweaty bodies pressed against each other; drinks were passed around. The club seemed to be mostly filled with jovial college students who had just finished their final exams for the semester, giving rise to an even more chaotic atmosphere than normal.

The swivelling and ever-changing coloured lights barely lit the club up, and yet he saw you so clearly. He swore you were the most beautiful person he had ever seen. He struggled to tear his gaze from you so as to not stare for too long, especially when he almost locked eyes with you.

But goddamn, you were gorgeous.

Out of his peripheral vision, he saw you leave the dance floor and head towards the bar, presumably to get a drink. All it took was a few encouraging words (and well-meaning teases) for him to muster up the courage to approach you.

“Hey.”

You turned your gaze towards Charlie, and his breath caught in his lungs.

“Hey,” you replied.

Charlie felt heat rise up to his cheeks, and he was pretty sure it wasn’t just from the heat of the club.

“I, uhm,” damnit Charlie you can do this “You’re really beautiful, and I was wondering if I could buy you a drink if that’s okay? I’m Charlie, by the way.”

Your lips parted, almost as if you were surprised, before it turned into a coy smile.

“I’m Y/N, and you’re really beautiful too.”

Error 404 not found in Charlie’s brain.

Charlie stuttered for a moment, messing with his already messed up hair to take a moment to recalibrate. In that moment, he summoned every past experience he had flirting with his friends during DnD sessions.

“So,” he tilted his head at you. “What drink would the pretty lady like?”

Pink spread across your cheeks, and he would have mistaken it as a trick of the light if you hadn’t stuttered out:

“Whiskey, uhm, whiskey coke would be great.”

Charlie shot you a smirk before turning to the bartender to place your orders. The two of you stood in relative silence, bar the club music, as the drinks were prepared. Once the drinks were served, you immediately took a sip.

“God, I needed some of that liquid courage,” you admitted, cheeks still pink.

“So do I,” Charlie said, taking a sip of his. “God, do you know how much courage it took for me to approach someone as beautiful as you.”

“What?”

Your cheeks seemed to get even redder, and you took a larger sip from your drink.

Charlie raised an eyebrow at you.

“What, you don’t believe me? Look at you, at your outfit – ”

“I believe you about that, I know I’m gorgeous,” you joked, twirling a piece of your hair in your fingers. “I meant about the courage part.”

“I’m surprised you couldn’t tell based on how I was tripping over my words trying to offer you a drink.”

For some reason, that cracked you up, causing you to throw your head back as your laughed. In that moment, you didn’t seem to care how you looked in front of Charlie, and in that moment, he thought you were the most beautiful human alive.

“Oh my god,” you breathed. “I think – I think it’s hard for me to see that you’re nervous when I was internally battling my own nerves.”

At that, Charlie’s jaw dropped.

“No way.”

“Yes way.”

“No,” he exaggerated.

You snorted.

“Do you know how long I had been working up the courage to come talk to you? I literally left the dance floor to get a drink in order to hype myself up to approach you. You just beat me to the punch.”

“Are you kidding?”

“No, have you seen yourself?” Your eyes unashamedly checked him out as you gestured at his clothes. “You’re gorgeous. If I wasn’t so down bad for you, I would be jealous of your fit.”

Charlie hid his burning cheeks behind another sip of his drink.

“Now, what gentleman would I be if I let the lovely lady dish out all the compliments? We could trade all night long, or – ” He extended a hand towards you. “You could join me on the dance floor.”

You took a second to consider him, before you knocked back the remainder of your drink.

“I just met you, but fuck it, let’s go.”

You put your hand in his. A spark of mischief lit up Charlie’s eyes as he intertwined your fingers together, chuckling when your expression turned flustered.

“But none of that grinding shit, alright?” you said. “We’re technically still strangers.”

“Of course, my lady,” Charlie said, a spark in his eyes. “We’ll be super classy and refined.”

-

The two of you ended up on the dance floor busting your asses like no one else. Classy was the random macarena dance break, and refined was the failed ballroom dip Charlie attempted that almost caused you to fall onto the dirty club floor.

When you had been with your friends (who had teased your obvious immediate crush on Charlie), psyching yourself to talk to him, you didn’t think you would end up laughing your way through the night.

Of course, that didn’t stop the butterflies. The initial adrenaline from the alcohol faded eventually, and every brief contact with Charlie sent butterflies to your stomach.

You don’t know how he didn’t sense your obvious fluster when you so acutely felt your cheeks aflame. You don’t know how he didn’t realise how infatuated you were with him when he briefly held you close to his chest and you swore your heart was thumping louder than the music.

You spent the rest of the night dancing with Charlie, your cheeks hurting from how hard you were smiling and laughing. At some point, your friends came over to bid you goodbye, insisting that you text them when you reached home and threatening Charlie with his life if they didn’t hear back from you. Subsequently, Charlie’s friends also left, and before you knew it, the club was closing.

“That was so much fun,” Charlie said, his breathing slightly laboured from the strenuous Rasputin routine he had done.

You were also panting, but from being doubled over laughing at him.

“Yeah,” you chuckled, wiping away a tear that had escaped your eye, no doubt smudging your eyeliner. “I can’t believe the night is over, I really enjoyed dancing with you.”

You catch a glimpse of something in Charlie’s eye, before one of his hands barely cupped your jaw.

“May I?” he asked, the other hand reaching towards your eye, no doubt to correct your eyeliner.

Your breath caught in your lungs, brain stuttering at the closeness and intimacy of the gesture.

“Yeah,” you breathed.

His thumb brushed under your eye gently, smoothing over your skin and hopefully wiping away any smudge you had caused. You felt your cheeks warm with nervousness you hadn’t felt since Charlie approached you at the bar, and you bit your lip to try to hide it.

Charlie’s eyes darted to your lips, lingering for a second before he backed away quickly.

“Sorry,” he apologised, and you immediately missed the sensation of his hands on your face. “I hope I wasn’t crossing any boundaries – ”

“You weren’t,” you reply too fast, almost choking over your words.

Clearing your throat, you tried again, but Charlie beat you to it:

“I really enjoyed tonight with you.” He messed with his hair for the hundredth time. “And I was hoping if I could see you again?”

Your heart stuttered in your chest, mind travelling a million miles an hour as you considered the fact that Charlie – handsome, beautiful, funny, Charlie – wanted to see you again after tonight. And all your mouth could produce was:

“Sure.”

Immediately, his eyes lit up.

“Could I have your number?” he asked, fumbling with his pockets for his phone.

“Yea – yeah, sure,” you repeated yourself, cringing inwardly.

He passed you his phone, and you shakily type in your number. After passing it back to him, Charlie typed a few things. Your phone vibrated in your pocket.

unknown, 5.38am: it’s me, Charlie :)

Grinning, you sent back a reply:

y/n, 5.39am: hey there, stranger

Charlie snorted, before pocketing his phone.

“I’m not kidding, by the way,” his gaze turned sincere, one hand reaching to hold yours when you let him. “Tonight was so much fun, and I really like you. I mean that beyond your amazing beauty – and you are so, so gorgeous – ” You flushed again. “ – and your questionable ability to do a floss – ” You smacked his shoulder with your free hand. “ – you’re an amazing person, and I would love to get to know you for real.”

You took a moment to collect yourself, barely holding yourself together as you gazed into Charlie’s soft, sincere eyes.

“I would love to get to know you for real, too,” you replied. Calling back to an earlier action of his, you took initiative to intertwine your hands together.

In a sudden rush of boldness, you stood on your toes and delivered a quick peck to Charlie’s cheek. When you withdrew, you were pleased to see you had managed to fluster the man as much as you were currently feeling.

“Okay, okay,” he stuttered, before taking in a deep breath to compose himself as you giggled. “I, uhm, I guess I’ll see you another time?”

“Of course, just drop me a text, stranger."

When you finally made it back to your flat, the sun was just barely starting to rise. You let your friends know you were back home safely before dropping Charlie a text:

y/n, 6.35am: heyy, I made it back alive :)

charlie, 6.36am: so did I! have a good rest :)

y/n, 6.36am: you too :D

-

charlie, 3.15pm: are you free Saturday for coffee? my treat

y/n, 3.16pm: only if you let me buy you ice cream after

Charlie, 3.17pm: sounds like a plan, stranger ;)

lil midweek bump, currently swamped with school work but hopefully by the end of the poll i have time to write!

guess i got a lot to write after finals :D