Slmccl - Tumblr Posts

hi timeline, i'm trying to procrastinate my research work so come talk to me about any shared interests! i like charlie slimecicle, jrwi, generation loss so just pop into my ask box!

(i'm also looking for more moots but i'm scared to approach pls let me know if you wanna be moots hehehe)

i remember joining an elden ring dlc stream and being confused why people kept talling about land squirts. now watching the slmccl video, i understand

also watching charlie slowly go insane fighting a hippopotamus while some squirt song is playing in the background is an experience

the smash cuts of the near 100 times he died to the hippo made it so much funnier too

folks, im thinking of changing my pfp to something charlie related. any suggestions for what photo to use?

a firefly in your night sky

cc!Charlie Slimecicle x small streamer!reader

Synopsis: When you think no one notices you sinking in your darkness, Charlie does.

Warning(s): poor mental health, a little heavy but it’s mostly allegorised, tiny ounce of comfort.

Word count: 1.4k

A/N: Smol comfort fic. Hugs to everyone who’s going through a tough time <3

masterlist

There are always challenges that come with living overseas, in a foreign country, away from your childhood home and friends. Away from familiarity, away from comfort.

Of course, that isn’t to say that you couldn’t become familiar with or find comfort in your new environment. New sceneries become the norm, and strangers become friends. And when it comes to the job that you have, you will always be thankful for the strangers that had become your friends.

They were the reasons you moved in the first place.

Ranboo, whom you met at a convention and hit it off so well you became friends and started streaming together.

Moonzy, whom you met through Ranboo and quickly became one of your favourite people.

And so many more people who you met either through Ranboo or through various streaming events you had the opportunity to participate in.

Including Charlie, whose witty puns and genuine compassion pulled you in until you felt that you couldn’t get enough of his presence.

With how close you became to these group of people, it was no surprise that you eventually made the big decision to move continents to be nearer to them. It was the biggest move you had ever made in your life, and it filled you with excitement and nervousness.

But boy was it the best decision you had ever made.

Your friends were with you every step of the way, from Charlie picking you up from the airport, to Ranboo helping you set up some of your furniture, to Moonzy bringing you around Los Angeles and introducing you to the city.

It felt like a dream come true.

But as life would have it, highs were almost always accompanied with the lows.

Imposter syndrome hit you when you followed your friends to meet new ones in LA, new streamers who were far bigger in following than you were.

Homesickness hit you when Charlie travelled to a different country for a short family holiday, and you realised just how far away from your family you were.

Burn out hit you out of nowhere. Jadedness weighed on your shoulders. Suddenly, shadows were creeping at the corners of your mind.

And, maybe, you should have confided in your friends? You were friends, after all, right?

But anxiety warped your decision-making abilities, and you find yourself putting up a front. You were good at that anyways, you were a streamer after all.

And viewers never know what happens after the stream is over.

Your stream schedule became slightly less frequent, what with you not being in the best mental space to stream as often as you used to, but it was still frequent enough to not alert any of your fans that something might be wrong.

You still hung out with your friends, following them for outings streaming with them, because spending time with people should cheer you up, right?

You weren’t sure how good your acting skills were, but they were apparently really good because you managed to slide your jadedness under the radar of your friends’ concern.

Except for Charlie.

You didn’t notice it at first, being too focused on keeping a smile up and looking engaged in conversations. But every time people laughed and you only offered a snort, every time you were more reserved than the energy of the room, Charlie was looking at you.

And when you finally realised it, you couldn’t help but feel shame.

It was during a small get together that he approached you about it. Everybody else were occupied screaming at the Smash Bros match on the television, so you took the opportunity to sneak into the kitchen and get some snacks.

Or let yourself drop the pretence for a little bit, but you’re too proud to admit that to yourself.

You weren’t expecting Charlie to follow you into the kitchen and catch you staring into space, hands fiddling with a packet of chips.

“Look at you being the snack goblin while everyone’s distracted,” came Charlie’s teasing voice from the door of the kitchen.

Startled, you reply, “Huh?”

Charlie looks pointedly at the packet of chips in your hands. You follow his gaze to look at the packet, and feel your neck warm slightly when you realise that you had been so deep in your head that you forgot about the chips.

Attempting to salvage the situation, you reply, “I was about to open it.”

“Uhuh,” says Charlie, raising an eyebrow at you. “Like you weren’t just staring at Ranboo’s cursed Garfield portrait unmoving.”

You let out a snort at the mention of the painting that Ranboo had done during the last time you attempted a paint and sip (you couldn’t draw for nuts), but your fingers start tapping on the kitchen counter nervously, avoiding Charlie’s gaze.

You don’t catch the way his eyes soften with concern until he’s moved next to you, the movement causing you to look back at him.

The two of you stand in the kitchen in silence for a while, neither of you wanting to breach the question that was clearly swimming in Charlie’s eyes. Against your better judgement, you scan his features, letting yourself get trapped in how his face was slightly scrunched in concern, how his sincere gaze made you want to pour out your soul to him.

Charlie inhales deeply, as though gathering the courage for his next words, before saying, “I should’ve asked so much earlier than right now, but are you okay?”

You wish that you could come up with a clever quip in that moment, something to take his attention off the darkness behind your eyes, but all you brain could think about was how much you wanted to tell him.

And how much you wanted to crawl into a hole and never come back out just for thinking about that. Because the little parasite in your mind tells you that good friends don’t burden your friends with your problems.

As though he could somehow glean your thoughts from the way you averted your eyes, Charlie tells you softly, “You know I’m here for you, right? I care for you – you’re my friend. I want to be able to shoulder your burdens with you.”

You worry your bottom lip between your teeth, as though that action could keep the words from spilling from your mouth. It’s effective, but only because something in your gut keeps you from sharing your feelings with him.

Somehow, he senses that you aren’t ready yet, and instead offers you a hug.

“If you can’t, or don’t want to share, it’s okay. But can I at least give you a hug?” His eyes crinkle a little as the beginnings of a smile starts on his face. “Hugs are statistically proven to make people feel better.”

You let out a snort at that, one that actually causes a small smile to form on your face. You don’t trust your words in that moment, so you give Charlie a nod.

His arms come around you, enveloping your frame and pulling you into his chest. In that moment, it was just you and Charlie, who was like a little firefly in the midst of your darkness. You wrap your arms around his waist, resting your head on his chest.

You don’t know if it was because Charlie gives really good hugs, or you were just emotional in the moment, but you physically sag into the hug, melting as Charlie rubs small circles into your shoulders. Somehow, it energises and relaxes you at the same time.

You felt safe in Charlie’s arms, like just the act of him holding you was protecting you from the invisible monsters in your mind.

In the middle of Ranboo’s kitchen, with various muffled Smash Bros sounds coming from the living room, time stands still. And when you’re inevitably pulling apart, you find the darkness is far less dark, and your shoulders far less heavy.

You don’t tell him everything that night. Just enough to let him know that you were going through a rough patch. But you promised that you would tell him soon, because deep down you knew you wanted to.

Because Charlie noticed you while you were trying your best to hide away from everybody. He reached out to you when you were possibly pulling away from your friends.

He offered to be a firefly in your night sky.

i'm in love with you too, dumbass

cc!Charlie Slimecicle x fem!reader

Synopsis: Four times you hid your unrequited love for Charlie, and one time you discover the love is requited.

Warning(s): feelings, some tooth-rotting fluff, angst, kissing.

Word count: 4k

A/N: This is finally done! Sorry it took so long, it became much longer than I expected it to be. Will probably take a break from writing after this, because creative juices have kind of run out recently (part of the reason this took so long. Hope you enjoy it!

masterlist

1.

The chaos of conventions never failed to amaze you. Granted, it was your first time at one, but within the short period that you spent at the convention, you just felt equal parts amused and overwhelmed by everything.

Including Charlie.

It wasn’t that you couldn’t stand his presence – he was one of your best friends, of course you wanted to spend as much time with him – but if you had to swallow down the butterflies in your stomach one more time, you swore you were going to vomit them out.

As it turns out, going on an extended vacation with your best-friend-that-you-are-in-love-with-who-doesn’t-know-you’re-in-love-with-him-and-most-likely-will-not-return-the-feeling was not the best thing for your emotional and mental well-being.

To a certain extent, you were able to hide your feelings behind a camera, what with being his plus one (platonic) and camera woman (he was paying you in food, so who were you to say no?) for the convention. It was pretty rewarding too, watching him interact with fans and other creators.

You were happy seeing him be happy.

However, you were still spending hours on end with each other, so there were bound to be instances that threw you off.

“Hey, I haven’t said this yet, but you look really nice today,” Charlie told you as you were resting on some benches in a quieter part of the convention.

You nearly sputtered water out of your mouth.

“Thanks?” you replied, praying to God that your face hadn’t turned bright red. Panicking, you try for a banter:

“I mean, I look the same as always? Don’t tell me you think I look ugly on a daily basis.”

“For the record, I think you look pretty on a daily basis. You just look prettier today.”

He said it with the sincerest look on his face, his eyes crinkling as he smiled at you softly. So many words threatened to pour out of you in that moment, some suave retort on your tongue, some embarrassing confession behind gritted teeth. But all that came out was:

“You look great too.”

Charlie lets out a chuckle.

“You’re just saying that because I complimented you.”

“Well, was I not supposed to say anything? I don’t know how else I should’ve responded – ”

“How about just take the compliment, dumbass,” he huffs out, but you can hear the affection in his tone.

Affection that was 100% platonic, you tell yourself.

You’re saved from trying to come up with another response as another one of Charlie’s creator friends approaches, launching them into a discussion about something like therapy and a funny video idea.

Just like that, you were back behind the scenes, behind a camera, your pride and friendship protected for yet another day.

-

2.

When you had stepped out the house that day for a picnic, you weren’t expecting it to be so fucking cold.

It was freaking September! Why was it so windy?

You tried your best to pay attention to the story Ranboo and Moonzy were sharing, but half your focus was on not shivering whenever the wind blew through the park.

The other half was trying it’s best not to let your eyes linger on how the wind messed up Charlie’s hair just right.

“Can you pass me the strawberries?” asked Charlie.

It takes you a second to register that he was talking to you, and you give him a stiff nod, not really trusting your teeth not to chatter if you replied verbally. Your fingers seemed to also be stiff as you gripped the box of strawberries and handed it to him.

When he takes the box from you, your fingers brush just the slightest, sending a shiver down your spine that you wish you could blame on the wind.

“Thanks – Jesus, why are your hands so cold?” he exclaims.

In a second, Charlie’s put down the box of strawberries on the picnic mat and cupped your hands in his.

Don’t panic, don’t panic, don’t panic.

“It’s really fuckin’ wimdy,” you blurt out.

It sends your friends into a fit of laughter, Ranboo and Moonzy’s story interrupted as they burst out in giggles over your comment. You’re chuckling along with them, but you’re also still really fucking cold.

“Here, take my sweater.”

PANIC.

“Wha – what, wait – ” The rat running the hamster wheel in your brain is sprinting as you try to salvage the situation. “Then you’ll be cold, idiot.”

If you wear Charlie’s sweater, you think you might combust.

But the stupid, handsome, kind, idiot only shrugs and begins to pull his sweater over his head, before holding it out to you. You stare at him dumbly for a second, still trying to come up with a way to reject the sweater.

“God, stop being stubborn and take it, I’ll be fine,” he sighs, brandishing his sweater at you like a weapon. “We both know I’m better at dealing with the cold than you are.”

He’s right, because every time you watch a movie with him, you’re usually hogging the blanket.

But that’s different from taking his sweater!

As the cogs in your brain keep turning, you hear another sigh from him before your vision goes dark. You yelp and start batting your hands as Charlie forces his sweater over your head.

“Charlie – you fucking – I can’t see – ”

“Just wear the stupid sweater, dumbass,” he chides as he gets your head through the collar. “Now, put your arms through the sleeves, or do I need to help you with that too like the baby you are?”

Your eyes widen and you look away from him in panic. As your gaze shifts away from Charlie, you unintentionally lock eyes with Moonzy, who gives you a knowing look.

(Why was she so perceptive.)

(Why did Charlie indirectly calling you baby make your neck uncomfortably warm.)

“Guys, this isn’t the Ranboo baby stream,” you mumble as you put your arms through the sleeves.

That sends your friends into another fit of laughter and signals Ranboo and Moonzy to continue the story. Now, with everyone’s attention back on the story, you privately settle into the warmth of Charlie’s sweater.

You try not to think about how long the sleeves are as you bury your cold hands in the fabric.

You try not to think about how much bigger the sweater is on you than on Charlie.

You try not to think about how you could smell his cologne on the sweater.

-

3.

You wouldn’t say that you were a very short person. You’d like to think that you were about average height. It wasn’t your fault that most of your friends were freakishly tall.

Including Charlie.

Whose house you were currently in.

And trying to get snacks from the top of his cabinets because of-fucking-course it had to be in the highest cabinet possible.

“I swear to God if I fall, I’m charging him for my medical bills,” you mutter under your breath as you drag a chair over to climb on to. But just as you were about to put both feet on the chair, Charlie walks into the kitchen.

“ – taking so long to get the snacks,” he says as he enters, pausing when he sees you about to hop onto the chair. He stares at you quizzically, head cocked to the side.

“Why do you look like you’re about to climb onto my cabinets?”

“Because you decided to discriminate against me and put the snacks in the highest shelf possible,” you huff, resuming your mission.

But as soon as you’re rising to your full height on the chair, you feel hands place themselves on your waist. You’re lifted off the chair easily and placed back onto the floor so swiftly you don’t manage a reaction in time.

You’re still staring at Charlie dumbfounded by the time he’s replaced you at the cabinet, chair nudged aside, and retrieved the snacks.

“You could’ve just asked me to come get them, dumbass.” Charlie turns around with an armful of chips.

You’re still trying to process what just happened. You point a finger at Charlie.

“Why’d you pick me up?”

He raises an eyebrow at you, amused.

“To stop you from falling off the chair?”

“But I would’ve been fine.”

“Or you could’ve fallen. Ever heard of being safer than sorry?”

You pinch the bridge of your nose, trying to clear the fog in your brain that has randomly spawned. Your cheeks were warming, you needed to get a grip.

You’re snapped out of your head when Charlie brushes past you, turning just slightly to send you a playful smirk.

“Let’s get back to watching the movie. Or you do also need to be carried over like a princess?”

“Shut the fuck up,” you snark back, annoyed at him and also yourself.

You’re grateful that he had turned back around with a chuckle, because you were pretty sure the tips of your ears were turning red based on how warm they were getting.

You spend the rest of the movie as far away from Charlie on the couch as possible. When he asks why you’re so far away (and to stop hogging the blanket), you kick at him and try to play it off as wanting to stretch your legs out.

It’s definitely not because you think your brain would shut down if you were any closer to Charlie.

-

4.

Clubbing was always a fun thing to do with friends, because no matter how many people were crowded around you, or how stinky the place was, it was always fun just jumping around and dancing with your friends.

Of course, it helped when all four of you had consumed a considerable amount of alcohol.

“Let’s dance!” Moonzy squeals, pulling you away from the group and towards some open space before you can object.

The two of you bounce around each other, showing off half-assed drunken movements of really cool dance moves (see: orange justice) and screaming the lyrics of the songs blasting through the speakers at each other.

You’re so engrossed in trying to dip Moonzy without dropping her you don’t notice Charlie come up to you until he’s right next to you, causing you to shriek.

“Jesus – Charlie!” you yell at him, smacking his shoulder for scaring you.

He rolls his eyes, nudging you with his elbow.

“Not my fault you were so caught up trying not to drop Moonzy. I just came over to see what the fuss was all about.”

Your tipsy brain latches on the implication that he was watching you and Moonzy. Your cheeks start to warm at the possibility that he was watching you.

“We were so close before you came over,” Moonzy says with an exaggerated sigh. “You ruined our moment.”

Charlie fakes offense, dramatically placing a hand on his chest.

“I sincerely apologise, fair maiden,” he says in a stupid medieval accent. “However can I make it up to you?”

Moonzy lets out a snort, shoving him playfully before stepping away, saying, “Forget it, I’m going to get us more drinks.”

She shoots you a mischievous look before leaving the two of you. Your brain catches up a second too late for you to retaliate.

Damn Moonzy and her stupid perceptiveness.

Turning towards Charlie, you feel slightly awkward now that your dance partner had left you. But it seems that Charlie didn’t feel the same as he quickly grabs your hands.

“Let me show you how to actually dip someone, dumbass,” he says with a smirk.

Your expression turns panicked for a split second, but you’re not able to object before he’s pulling you towards him sharply. One arm wraps around your waist securely and suddenly he’s dipping you low towards the ground.

You’re acutely aware of how close the two of you are, how snugly his arm fits around your body, and how you could spot the specks of brown in his blue eyes.

As he brings you back upright, your proximity to him remains the same. You let yourself get lost in his eyes for a few seconds, before you realise just how close your faces are.

Nervous, you reflexively wet your lips. Charlie’s eyes dipping from your eyes to your lips catches you off guard, causing your breath to catch in your lungs.

There are words dancing on the tip of Charlie’s tongue. Words you know would ruin you, and your friendship. Because it’s not going to mean anything to him, and it’s going to mean the world to you.

You know what he’s about to ask.

You’re not sure if you have it in you to say no.

It’s as though someone dumped an ice bucket on you as you become uncomfortably sober. You yank yourself away from Charlie, breathing heavily.

“I need to go,” you say breathlessly, eyes darting around for where Ranboo and Moonzy might be.

Charlie’s brows are furrowed, like he notices something was wrong, but he didn’t understand why you were reacting the way you did.

“I’ll take you home,” he says automatically.

“No!” you shriek before you can stop yourself.

The air between you two becomes tense. It doesn’t help that the DJ had changed the song to something slower, no noisy techno beats to diffuse the situation.

“Damn, if I was such a bad dance partner you could’ve just said so,” he jokes, but you can hear the bitterness in his tone.

“It’s not that,” you say immediately. Because it wasn’t his fault. It was never his fault.

How could it be his fault that you fell for your best friend?

“Then?” he questions. “What’s your deal?”

It’s sharp, accusatory, almost like a wounded animal. One hand is clenched and the other is fiddling with the hem of his shirt.

You know your best friend well enough to know that he’s hurt.

You know you’re fucking up your friendship in real time.

“I can’t tell you,” you choke out, cursing yourself internally because you know how flimsy that excuse was.

Charlie raises an eyebrow at you. You know he can see through your bullshit.

A moment passes between the two of you as he looks like he’s mulling over his thoughts. He runs a hand through his already messy hair, something like distress passing over his face.

You could just leave.

You don’t know why you’re waiting for his response.

“Fine,” he says slowly, grinding the word out like he’s forcing himself not to say what he actually wanted to. “But can you text the group when you’re home? Please?”

There’s concern in his eyes, even underneath all the hurt. Your heart drops like a stone because even though you were being a total asshole to him, Charlie was still looking out for your well-being.

“I will,” you promise.

You’re quick to book it out of the club after that. Not even bothering to find Ranboo and Moonzy, knowing that Charlie would eventually find his way to them and let them know what had happened.

That you had left in a hurry after being the worst friend ever.

All because of your goddamned feelings.

-

1.

You avoid Charlie for two weeks.

In fact, you avoid Ranboo and Moonzy too because the guilt of being a bad friend weighed down so heavily on you that you couldn’t bear to see your other friends.

It was isolating and caused you to spiral down a deep dark hole you didn’t know how to pull yourself out of.

You tell yourself you deserve it.

Over the course of the two weeks, you tried to formulate a way to apologise to your friends, particularly Charlie for being rude and running out on him. You spent nights muffling your frustrated yells into your pillow because you don’t know how to tell him that you were sorry without exposing your feelings for him.

Part of you wondered if you should just bite the bullet and confess.

But another part of you tells you that was stupid, and you go back to drafting apology after apology to salvage the mess you had caused.

It’s during one of those moments when you were lying on your bed deep in thought that your doorbell rang. Confused, you creep to the door to check who it was. You hadn’t ordered any food or delivery, and you weren’t expecting anyone to show up –

You spot messy brown hair and blue framed spectacles through the peephole. He’s looking down, but you recognise Charlie regardless.

Your blood runs cold.

Should you let him in? Were you even ready to face him again after you practically threw your friendship in his face? What would you even say?

Knocking on the door interrupted your thoughts. You were taking too long.

“Y/N?” called Charlie. “Please let me in. I just want to talk.”

I just want to talk. Maybe he was coming to demand an explanation. Maybe he wanted to tell you he was uncomfortable and that he didn’t want to be friends anymore. Maybe –

“I can hear you breathing on the other side of the door, I know you’re there,” he says.

You let out a heavy sigh. Your thoughts threatened to overwhelm you once more, but your hand moves before you register it. Suddenly, you’re opening the door and coming face to face with Charlie.

In the two weeks you had avoided him, it didn’t look like much had changed. He still looked healthy, save for slightly darker circles under his eyes.

Did you cause that?

The two of you stare at each other on opposite sides of the doorway. His eyes scan your face, as if gauging your reaction to him being there, before tilting his head as though asking to be let in.

Sheepishly, you step aside and allow him into your home.

The sound of the door closing is far too noisy for your nerves, making you flinch slightly as the two of you move to your living room.

Where you continue to stand in awkward silence.

Fuck, how could you have let your friendship come to this?

Charlie is the one to break the silence, placing a paper bag you hadn’t noticed him carrying on the coffee table.

“I brought your favourite pastries.”

You blink.

“Why?”

He sends you a shrug, tucking his hands into his pockets.

“Thought I might butter you up before asking why you’ve been avoiding my texts and calls.”

There it was.

You worry your lip, hands fiddling with the hem of your sweater nervously. You turn your words over in your head, trying to come up with some semblance of a reason that wasn’t complete bullshit.

When Charlie realises that you’re probably not going to respond anytime soon, he sighs and continues:

“I came to apologise, too.”

That snaps you out of your thoughts. Your head snaps to look at him as you meet your gaze directly for the first time since the club.

“Why?” you ask, cringing when you realised that’s exactly what you had said a minute prior.

Charlie runs a hand through his hair, eyes closing briefly like he’s steeling himself.

“At the club,” he begins slowly, “I made you uncomfortable. I’m sorry for that. I should’ve asked first, should’ve waited for you to respond to dancing together and being that close. I’m sorry – ”

“No, stop. Don’t apologise,” you interrupt him, eyes wide. His expression falls, and you think you see fear in his eyes.

So, you ramble on like a steam train running off track. Your words pour out of your mouth before you can filter them.

“It’s not your fault. You didn’t make me uncomfortable – I mean, I was uncomfortable, but that was my own doing. None of it is your fault, I should be the one apologising for avoiding you and – and being a terrible friend.”

You pause to take a deep breath. Charlie’s mouth is hanging open slightly, and you can practically see the gears turning in his head.

You push on before you can stop yourself. Before your brain could tell you that this was a bad idea.

Because you know your next words could change everything.

“I’ve been a shit friend to you because I’m in love with you, Charlie.”

It feels like time stops for you, as you gauge his reaction. You hold your breath without realising and watch him carefully.

This was the moment he was going to tell you that he doesn’t feel the same. That he’s not comfortable being your friend anymore. That he doesn’t want to see you again. That he –

He laughs.

Not a full belly laugh, but a snort that leads to a chuckle. That crinkles the corners of his eyes and fills them with joy.

You feel a pang in your chest, and tears start to prick your eyes. Taking a step back from Charlie, you lower your gaze shamefully.

But then he’s striding up to you and lifting your head up to look at him with gentle fingers on your chin. Charlie’s other hand brushes down your arm to take your hand in his, intertwining your fingers together.

“Don’t apologise,” he says, eyes shining. “I’m in love with you too, dumbass.”

It’s your turn to have your mouth hanging open as you process his words.

“You’re what?” you ask dumbly.

He chuckles again, hand moving from your chin to hold your cheek. You can’t help but tilt slightly into his warmth, revelling in his affection.

“I’m. In. Love. With. You.”

He punctuates each word carefully, sincerely, like he’s making sure that they pierce through your confusion and straight into your heart.

And they do, because the weight lifts from your chest, and the corners of your mouth start to raise into a smile.

Because your best friend was in love with you too.

“Holy shit,” you breathe. “For how long?”

He hums as he thinks, thumb caressing the side of your face.

“Several months, now? Before we went to that convention in LA,” he admits.

“Me too, holy shit,” you breathe, letting out a small chuckle. “Were we just dumb this whole time?”

“Mm, no, I think that’s just you,” he teases, giving your nose a pinch.

You feel your cheeks warm at the action, but you manage to give a sarcastic, “Sure thing.”

Charlie let’s out a breathy laugh at your response, before his eyes turn serious again and he cups your face in both his hands.

“I’m in love with you,” he reiterates. “Can I please kiss you?”

You tell him yes without hesitation, your hands coming up to hold the back of his neck. Because finally you could let your feelings come through as transparent as glass.

He pulls you close and slots his mouth over yours, capturing you in a sincere kiss.

Time stands still again as you embrace. The two of you pour out months of frustration and unrequited feelings (that was really requited the whole time) into the kiss.

When the two of you pull apart, there’s joy shining in both of your eyes. The moment is sweet, before it’s broken by laughter as the two of you consider the stupidity of your situation again.

Charlie spends the rest of the day at your place, the two of you passing stories back and forth when you were hiding your feelings. And when your expression darkens a little as you remember that you have to apologise to Ranboo and Moonzy for avoiding them too, he kisses a little bit of the darkness away.

Finally, you no longer had to hide your feelings deep in your chest.

Finally, you could wear them on your sleeve, as the one you love held your hand.

The end.

accepting requests!

Disclaimer: I can't guarantee that I'll get to all of them promptly, or even write all of them at all because of work and brain juice, but I think this could be fun!

Guidelines for requests:

Only for Charlie Slimecicle x fem!reader or gn!reader (sorry if you're looking for more!), both romantic or platonic

Can be cc!, q! or au! Charlie (meaning if you have an AU in mind, like best friend!Charlie or superhero!Charlie you can request it!)

Avoid giving specific descriptions about the reader, i.e. physical attribute / race / etc.

You can make your requests about a certain situation the reader is in, i.e. reader is going through a tough time, reader is working in so and so

I WILL NOT WRITE:

NSFW, gore

Heavy topics, e.g. depression, etc. If I do, they will only be implied or alluded to in a general way (read my fic a firefly in your night sky for an example of how i would write about these kind of topics!)

Please be understanding if I don't get around to writing your requests for various reasons!

a close streamer friend gaming with charlie or doing a ylyl stream with him?? but secretly in love with him? and the chat picks up on it and they end up trending on twitter with their ship name???? which kinda forces the two of them to confront and talk about their feelings???

only if you want to write this, of course <3 i love charlie i cannot get enough of your writing

Thank you for the request and your kind words anon! This was so fun to write and really is a feel good fluffy fic. I hope this piece is up to your expectations :)

-

you smile you snooze (i do, when i’m with you)

cc!Charlie Slimecicle x streamer!reader

Synopsis: You Laugh You Lose turns out to be a lot harder when Charlie lights up your life with every smile.

Warning(s): light swearing.

Word count: 1.4k

masterlist || requests are open!

“Okay, enough! We need to up the stakes.”

You raise an eyebrow at your good friend, Charlie, who sits by your side in his own office chair. The both of you have headphones on, the sound of a submitted funny video streaming through them.

“What do you mean?” you feign confidence, switching your gaze between Charlie and the camera. “The stakes are pretty high at the moment, I mean, we both have one heart left.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you see the one heart on each of your corners of the OBS scene.

“Yeah, for the past thirty minutes,” he argues. “We need to up the ante! More viewership! Mo-ney.”

He throws out the last parts jokingly, making you roll your eyes and bite your lips to keep yourself from laughing.

Giving in, because you always do, you ask, “So, what do you suggest?”

Charlie snaps his fingers towards the audience.

“Instead of You Laugh You Lose, we’re now playing,” he pauses dramatically, “You Smile You Snooze!”

True to your job as a streamer, you insert your own flavour of entertainment by slumping down in your chair exasperatedly.

“Charlie,” you whine, “that’s going to be so hard.”

“Exactly why we’re going to do it,” he insists, staring back at you for your confirmation.

You grumble and glare at him briefly before glancing at chat, curious to see what their opinions were:

yes, up the stakes! it was getting boring anyways we’ll see who’s the best at not smiling i bet y/n’s gonna lose y/n can’t keep her smiles to herself! mods run a poll? have you seen how y/n looks at charlie? she’ll lose immediately she’s a goner, she smiles whenever she looks at Charlie

You blink hard. Certain chat messages sear into your corneas.

Were you that obvious?

Glancing back at Charlie, you realise that he’s still staring at you, patiently waiting for your response. You feel your cheeks warm, even though you’re certain that he hasn’t read the chat yet.

Not being able to smile at your good friend turned crush was going to be a huge struggle for you.

You sigh.

Goddamnit, you were going to lose, but anything for the views, right?

“Fine,” you answer resolutely. “You Smile You Snooze it is!”

And so, the two of you resume the media playlist with the new challenge of not smiling. The submitted videos turned out to not be that challenging to stay poker-faced at, but Charlie’s quips would often tickle your funny bone in a way that had you breathing in slowly to keep your poker face.

Curse Charlie and his good humour.

The two of you made it through a good fifteen minutes without anything crazy happening, until someone submits an edit of the YLYL stream.

“What’s this? You guys are fast,” comments Charlie.

“This better not be an embarrassing one,” you add, biting your lower lip to prepare yourself for the worse.

The edit gets straight to the point, compiling all the moments from the stream thus far of you smiling at Charlie. Heartwarming music floods your ears, barely piercing through the sudden blood rushing through your eardrums.

Panicked, your eyes glance at chat before you can stop yourself:

whoever made that is doing the Lord’s work isn’t that a little against their boundaries? what’s their duo name? no shipping guys! aw they’re actually really cute wish someone would look at me the way y/n looks at charlie

Charlie’s voice interrupts your reading, jolting you slightly:

“Dude, we should’ve done You Smile You Snooze earlier,” he snorts. “You would’ve lost so bad from the beginning.”

You turn your head to look at Charlie with wide eyes, thoughts reeling about whether he was teasing for the sake of teasing or if he was beginning to catch on to you, when you notice the expression on his face.

The way his eyes crinkle a little. The way the corners of his mouth are lifted.

He’s smiling.

“YOU’RE SMILING!” you yell at him, pointing a finger at him.

His expression turns shocked at your outburst, before he leans back in his chair in defeat.

“Damnit,” he says, although he doesn’t sound all that upset about the loss.

Meanwhile, you get out of your chair and start a victory dance for yourself, losing yourself in the euphoria of winning the YLYL stream.

You miss the fond smile that rises back on Charlie’s face as he gazes at you.

-

“Yo, we’re trending on Twitter,” Charlie says in between bites.

It’s been two hours since the YLYL stream. You’re still at Charlie’s place because he insisted that the two of you should just have dinner and hang out together while you’re there. You didn't object.

“We are?” you ask curiously, scooting closer to Charlie to look at his phone screen.

“Mm,” he replies nonchalantly, clicking on a post and passing the phone to you. “We even have a ship name now.”

“What?”

Your eyes bulge from your sockets and you stare at Charlie. He shrugs, too calm and collected for your racing heart, and gestures for you to have a look at the tweet he pulled up.

It begins with a hashtag of your ship name, followed by “get you a duo that smiles at each other the way charlie and y/n smile at each other”. Below that was a side-by-side comparison of two screenshots from the YLYL stream, one of you smiling at Charlie while he wasn’t looking, and vice versa.

Your eyes glance back and forth between the phone screen and Charlie’s expression. While your brain is working a hundred miles an hour to come up with some sort of damage control, Charlie looks relaxed, almost satisfied or relieved.

“I – We – ” your words stutter as you struggle to focus on a topic. When you look back at Charlie, you scoot yourself a little away from him, nerves suddenly taking over from the proximity and the tweet.

Finally, you settle on accusation:

“Why are you so calm?”

“I mean,” Charlie reaches for another piece of fried chicken, “it’s no big deal. We’re friends. Let the chat think what they want to think. Unless… ”

He trails off, taking a bite of his chicken and chewing too slowly for it not to be deliberate.

“Unless what?” you push. You’re sure you look a little frazzled, still embarrassed and shocked by the post and the emergence of a ship name.

Charlie swallows before leaning closer, closing the gap that you created, saying:

“Unless you actually like me.”

You stare at him. It feels as though something in your brain has short circuited as you register his statement. As you juggle around the possible answers you could give and the potential situations they could create.

You know your face is turning red, what with how your cheeks are warming and how fast your heart is racing, so you shove Charlie’s shoulder a little first, unable to give an actual answer yet.

Letting you push him, he leans back, away from you, a smile lifting on his face.

“It’s okay if you do. I like you too.”

You stare again, your mouth opening and closing like a goldfish as you try to come up with something intelligible to say.

“Huh?”

Charlie is laughing now, full-bellied, head thrown back. At his response, you bristle a little, overthinking his words.

“Wait,” you say nervously. “Do you actually like me?”

You fiddle with his phone, dropping your eyes to the screen to examine the tweet again. Studying the screenshots, you can’t help but think that the kind of smile Charlie wore was the same one you had whenever you looked at him.

The phone is gently pried from your grip and placed face down on the table, forcing you to look at its owner. Instead of the humour that filled his eyes, Charlie now looks at you with utmost sincerity.

“I’m being serious. I like you.”

Staring into Charlie’s eyes, taking in the face of the man that made you smile in every situation, you find yourself being honest:

“I like you too.”

His eyes brighten, and the smile appears on his face again. The same smile that he wore in the screenshot, you realise. His smile is infectious, causing your lips to lift into a wide smile that reaches your eyes.

“Guess we’re both snoozing and losing today,” you quip, sending Charlie into a fit of chuckles before he’s pulling you close to him.

When Charlie retweets the aforementioned tweet, Twitter goes nuts for days.

actually haven't watched a slimecicle video or vod in a while, so watching him in tommy's new minecraft video and clips of his duolingo sponsored stream just slapped his acting skills right across my face (and also his insane commitment to the bit)

charlie being so excited and lowkey down bad for the smart slime girl changed me i think

you’ve captured me (and my heart)

hero!Charlie Slimecicle x villain!reader

Synopsis: You’d think capturing and interrogating a hero would be easier what with the number of years you’ve been a villain. Turns out it’s a whole lot more complicated when the hero you captured fancies you a little.

Warning(s): slightly suggestive, swearing, a bit of sexual tension, violence (no blood, just some tripping and a headbutt).

Word count: 1.4k words

A/N: No part of me wants to admit that this emerged from the Duolingo stream. I wrote this in an hour. I am ashamed and amazed at the same time.

masterlist || requests are open!

Slime had been yapping non-stop since you’d kidnapped him midway during his nightly patrol. Even after placing a bag over his head; even after shoving him into your getaway car; even after dragging him into an abandoned warehouse; even after forcing him onto a chair and tying his arms behind his back – he refused to stop talking.

You should’ve just knocked the idiot out while you had the chance to.

Now, you had no more chance to render him unconscious because you were meant to interrogate the yapper.

“ – dude, the ropes are kinda chafing my wrists, could you loosen them a little?”

Rubbing the space between your eyebrows, you sigh wearily before yanking the bag off his head.

He looked like the typical hero in your city: a green mask obscured the top half of his face, and he was clad in a flexible, but sturdy suit of different green hues. He really committed to the slime theme.

You guess you were no different. You could see his eyes scanning your dark purple suit, which was accompanied by a cloth that obscured the lower half of your face from your nose down. What can you say? You loved your moniker Foxglove.

A light sparks in Slime’s eyes when he registers who you are.

“Ah shit, Foxglove,” he starts somewhat nervously, one foot tapping a rhythm on the floor. “We meet again, huh?”

You roll your eyes at him, folding your arms in front of your chest.

“This isn’t a meeting, Slime. It’s an interrogation.”

“And a kidnapping, I noticed,” he quips, arms twitching in what you assumed was discomfort. “I know kidnapping kind of runs in villainy, but I didn’t think that was your brand.”

“I don’t really give a shit about branding,” you shoot back, cocking your head to the side. “That’s your kind of thing.”

“Yeah, hah,” he replies, a little breathy. “Heroes and branding, that’s how we appeal and gain people’s trust, I guess. Anyways, nice place you’ve got here. A little bare and dusty. You come here often?”

You squint at him. He was rambling.

The two of you often exchanged banter and insults during your fights, and there was usually an air of confidence, almost playfulness around Slime. You don’t recall a time he truly sounded nervous or borderline panicky.

You suppose you’ve never seen him under duress like that before.

Good. It means you had the upper hand.

“ – mean, it’s not a bad place, just not too homey. I could help you spruce things up! It would require the use of my hands though, so maybe we could negotiate that – ”

Snorting at his predicament (that you put him in), you interrupt his rambling by snatching one of your batons and pointing it at him threateningly.

“Zip. I’m going to ask you some questions, and you’re going to answer them.”

Slime’s rambling cuts short with his mouth still agape. His eyes dart between your face and the baton warily.

“What are you going to do if I refuse?” he asks, eyes wide, body fidgety.

The corner of your lip twitches up in a smirk, and you draw closer to rest the tip of your baton under his chin, forcing him to tilt his head up to look at you.

“If you refuse,” you begin slowly, trailing your eyes over his obscured features, “you’re going to be a lot more black-and-blue when I return you to your fellow heroes.”

He meets your eyes with a wide-eyed gaze, treating you to front row seats of brown speckled blue eyes. You’re surprised that you never noticed that before, though you suppose you’ve never been this close to Slime before no matter how much you tussled with him.

It seems as though you’d finally intimidated him into submission, as his breathing slows and shoulders set almost cooperatively. So, it catches you off guard when his lips quirk up and he lets out a little breath through his nose.

“Freaky, I like it.”

Frowning, you’re about to throw a remark when a hand suddenly shoots up to grab onto your wrist. A hand that should’ve been bound behind his back.

“What – ”

You don’t get any more time to react as Slime’s other hand reaches forward to shove you backwards. At the same time, his leg kicks out to knock your feet from under you.

In a second, you’re slammed with your back to the hard warehouse floor, the complete upset of your balance sending you to the ground. You hear your baton go skittering across the floor as Slime lands on top with you, hips straddling your thighs to keep you in place.

One hand is still around your wrist, while the other presses onto your collarbone.

Normally, your body would’ve kicked into overdrive by instinct and started pushing him off you, but your brain was still reeling from his comment and his body on yours and how close his face is.

“At least take me to dinner first,” Slime continues, a smirk rising on his lips.

“What the fuck,” you sputter.

Finally regaining one brain cell, your free hand comes up to jab at his throat. Unfortunately, he anticipates your attack, and his hand on your collarbone quickly slides to your wrist, capturing it and holding it next to your head, mirroring your other wrist.

It’s your turn to stare at him wide-eyed, wiggling in his grip in attempts of some futile escape plan. With both his arms caging you now, you’re stuck under his weight with no way out. The cogs in your brain were running on overdrive.

It didn’t help that you could feel every puff of hot breath against your throat when he exhaled.

You wish you could say you had some experience breaking out of this position, but truth be told, you were bailed out by another villain anytime Slime managed to catch you like this.

As though he could read your thoughts, Slime raises an eyebrow almost mockingly at you.

“What’s wrong? No friend to help you out of this one, huh?”

You glare at him before attempting to buck your hips to upset his weight, but the hero had placed himself over your thighs instead of your hips, smartly evading your escape attempt.

“Now, now,” he chides, “I don’t think we’re at that base yet. Although, it could be negotiated.”

“The only negotiation we are going to have is one that gets you off me, you bastard,” you shoot back.

Slime chuckles, much to your chagrin. But he quickly calms and turns serious.

“Listen, I’m not sure what you were going to try and get out of me, but you’ve already lost the upper hand here. So, why not we just call it a day, eh?”

You keep glaring at him.

“Will you get off me then?”

“Depends. Will you try to attack me?”

“Yes.”

“What if I get off you and take you to dinner some time?”

“Yes – what?”

You’re so caught off guard that your body slackens under him. Staring up at him, you notice something shining in his eyes.

Something like hope.

“I mean it,” he repeats. “Will you let me take you to dinner some time?”

As the two of you gaze into each other’s eyes, his grip on you relaxes slightly. Taking the opportunity, you headbutt him and slip your hands from his grip, pushing him to the side and getting up on your feet. You don’t look back at him before you book it out of the warehouse, swiftly pulling yourself up into a ledge on the side of the warehouse he wouldn’t be able to notice you on when he came out.

Seconds later, Slime is sprinting out of the warehouse, scanning the immediate area for you. He chuckles a little before cupping his hands around his mouth and yelling:

“You never said no!”

You roll your eyes, holding in a scoff as you watch him leave, figuring his way back to the city centre.

You’re not sure why you remain there, on the side of the warehouse. But you sit there and recall the events that had just happened. How he managed to outsmart you and undo his binds; how he quickly overpowered you before you could even start interrogating him.

How right it felt for the weight of his body to be over yours.

Feeling warmth creep up your neck, you shake the thoughts out of your head. There was no way you were falling for a hero, right?

Hi! My special interest is photo booths...can you do Charlie x fem reader where they take goofy pictures in a photo booth?

If thats too specific, i'd love headcanons or fluffy drabbles about amusement park or arcade dates.

Anon, your request is so freaking cute! The idea of going to photobooths with Charlie is so endearing to me, you got me so excited to write this!! It’s a bit more of a drabble, a little tiny one, but packed with so much fluff. Hope you enjoy!

-

photobooth shenanigans

cc!Charlie Slimecicle x fem!reader

Synopsis: Photobooths have been a special interest of yours for a long time, but where’s the joy in going to photobooths alone? Luckily, your boyfriend is there to indulge in your interests.

Warning(s): tooth-rotting fluff, Charlie calls reader baby/babe, established relationship.

Word count: 866

masterlist || request guidelines

You’re walking down the street with Charlie, your hands swinging between the two of you. Comfortable, peaceful silence surrounds you two, when something catches your eye.

The excited squeal you let out bursts the quiet bubble you’re in.

“Charlie!” you exclaim, pointing towards your object of interest. “Charlie, look!”

“What, baby?” he asks, trying to follow your line of sight. He squints his eyes as if the action would help him spot what you were pointing out.

“Babe, the street’s pretty crowded,” he starts, eyes slightly furrowed as he tries to work out what caught your attention. “What’re you pointing at?”

You’re bouncing on your toes now, excitedly shaking his hoodie sleeve to expel the excess excitement that has built up in your body, before pointing again, exclaiming:

“Photobooth!”

This time, Charlie’s eyes immediately latch on to the photobooth you’re pointing at. It was sitting on the side of the street and was a dull grey booth with a cream curtain and bright blue letters on the side reading PHOTOBOOTH in all capitals. It’s almost impressive how you managed to spot it as it nearly blended into the side of the building.

He’s turning back to you, drinking in your form that was practically buzzing with energy. Your excitement was contagious, and he can’t help but smile fondly at you.

“Do you wanna take a photo together?” Charlie asks, even though he already knows what your answer would be –

“Yes!”

That’s how the two of you end up crammed into a photobooth that looked as though it had seen better days. There was a small bench inside of it, so small that you had to prop one leg on Charlie’s thighs in order for both your butts to fit on the bench.

But of course, it didn’t stop your combined joy from filling up the small photobooth.

You’re quickly inserting a coin into the slot to start the photobooth. You were given three poses, so you and Charlie reacted as quickly as possible between each camera shutter to come up with the goofiest poses you could think of:

The first pose the two of you strike is one of utter seriousness. You both keep a straight face and stare straight into the camera, even if the façade of seriousness was broken by the fact that one of your legs was still propped up awkwardly on Charlie’s lap.

The second pose contains Charlie squishing your cheeks together with his other arm slung around your shoulders, while your hands reach up to muss up his hair. One of your hands don’t quite reach the top of his head because of your awkward position, which sends both of you into a fit of laughter.

The final pose has you both making the funniest faces you could think of. Charlie’s pulling the Zoolander face (cough Edward Twilight cough) while you try your best to contort your face weirdly.

When the photo strips are printed out (you managed to print two to your delight), you’re shocked by the quality of the pictures. The photobooth looked so old you honestly thought that the pictures were going to turn out pixelated, but the photobooth managed to catch every last goof in HD.

“Oh my god,” you say in between laughs, “your Zoolander face has been immortalised in high definition.”

You turn to your boyfriend, admiring the way a spark lights in his eyes as he studies the photo strip in his hands.

“But look at you!” He gestures at the second picture. “Your cuteness has been immortalised too, babe.”

You’re giggling again, slapping Charlie across the bicep.

“Shut up!”

“I’m not lying! You’re so cute here.”

“You’re embarrassing me.”

“Nobody else is in here but us. Who am I embarrassing you in front of?”

You’re quiet for a beat, before a shy smile forms on your face.

“You.”

Charlie’s expression immediately turns cheeky as he leans impossibly closer to you.

“Oh? Do you, perhaps, maybe, have a – ah – crush on, moi?”

What should have probably been a sweet moment is completely ruined because as he says that he pulls the Zoolander face, speaking in an exaggerated tone.

You’re shoving him with more force this time, barking out a laugh at his outlandish expression and tone.

“Stop that! You’re going to give me stitches from laughing so hard – ”

“I’ll stitch you right back up, baby.”

“Charlie!”

The two of you end up goofing around for a bit longer in the photobooth and eventually decide to take another photo. This time, it’s a lot calmer and sweeter, each pose being either a hug or the two of you looking endearingly into each other’s eyes.

And, of course, it ends with a sweet kiss.

Which was promptly ruined by Charlie pulling the Zoolander face when you pull away. You smack him again before snatching up the freshly printed photo strips and bolting out of the photobooth before he can stop you.

You’re sprinting down the street, Charlie hot on your heels. Neither of you care that passers-by are giving you two weird looks. Neither of you notice them.

Because you’re both caught up in the little joys shared between you two that came from a simple photobooth.

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?

this time on "dialogues charlie slimecicle has given that should be in a movie":

"So there was NEVER a good ending! There was NEVER A TRUE ENDING FOR ME! I WAS ALWAYS DOOMED TO DEPRAVITY, AND GOD HAD RIGGED THIS WRETCHED GAME FROM THE DAMN START."

the delivery on "I was always doomed to depravity" gave me chills, why is this man so good at acting

episode 1: creature clash

ok this is the last place im posting this promise

(Also on Twitter @ rizzcapt and TikTok @ beezunLIVE)

The Friend, The Taken, The Hero

I am so excited to see c!Slimecicle interact with other characters on the Dream smp, specifically because he knows literally 3 human greetings:  

1: dap me up!

2: kissing them

3:  kidnapping, trapping, and interrogating them while threatening their life

have made the unfortunate discovery i love to draw the slungo

What do you mean "post on consistent topics"?

I don't know who that is!

*casts random slimecicle fan art*

Heavily inspired by that zip-bomb song

(All uneven pixels are intentional)

Commission info

GOOGOOBIE

id believe it

Charlie Slimecicle eats glass!

The glasses and hair are slowly coming back. The whore has been vanquished to the seventh circle of hell and our nerd is returning