slightlylcst-blog

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slightly shakes his head, taking a breath to stay calm. “i’m- i’m not mad, i promise. just, uh. freaking out a little.” the blond boy runs one hand through his hair as the other pats at his pockets, a grimace flashing across his features when it finds them empty. “shit.” he huffs, eyes darting about in search of his missing wallet. “you haven’t, like. seen it, though, have you? it’s orange. like, bright. hard to miss?”

“No, no! I swear I didn’t touch it! Please don’t get mad, it was not me.”

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slightly: oh rip

slightly: godspeed to your sis

slightly: i hope she finds a good cover story for whatever she needs it for

open text

Attina: That won't work, Dad knows you weren't with me last night, because I had dinner with him last night.

Attina: Oh, sorry! That was supposed to go to my sister.

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I was not prepared for this emotional roller coaster

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@barrelselick

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@mr-sparrowman

slightly: do we need marshmallows y/n

slightly: i wanna make s’mores

slightly: you can make them in the microwave, ya know

slightly: you just gotta be careful so the marshmallows don’t like. explode.

slightly: do we need graham crackers y/n

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slightly: there’s a bear one?

slightly: two bear ones

slightly: big bear and little bear

slightly: i’ve never seen them but im pretty sure they’re legit.

slightly: i was just lookin up at the sky and thinkin, y’know?

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texting ; michael

@lilmichaeldarlin

slightly: so like

slightly: you ever think about how creative people were to like

slightly: look at a whole ass cluster of stars and be like

slightly: ‘yeah thatms a fuckin polar bear’?

michael: is there actually a polar bear constellation? michael: because if so, i’ve never found it michael: also why the heck is this whats on your mind?

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texting ; michael

@lilmichaeldarlin

slightly: so like

slightly: you ever think about how creative people were to like

slightly: look at a whole ass cluster of stars and be like

slightly: ‘yeah thatms a fuckin polar bear’?

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the mortification the girl whose pencil he’s holding is feeling is evident on her face and slightly can’t help but feel a bit sorry he’d spoken up. he wasn’t in any way upset with her, however, he’d just been taken by surprise by the flying object, and he tried to convey that he was chill in the way he held himself. shoulders relaxed, expression soft. “hey, it’s okay. no worries! really.” he assured, offering a soft smile. “ ‘s just not every day you get a pencil projectile launched at you from across a café,” he joked, smile widening. and he shook his head at her question. “nope! clothes are safe and clean! ‘s all good, promise.” and then, “you good, though?”

❀ slightly ❀

slightly had been deep in thought, texting while he nursed his iced coffee. so deep in thought, in fact that the impact of one mysterious flying pencil startled an “ah!” out of him, straw flicking out of his mouth and sending a spray of iced coffee in its wake. he stared a moment at the coffee-splattered table before “fuck.” and then his fingers found the culprit, the pencil, and his gaze flicked in the direction it came from. rolling the pencil between his fingers, he lifted it up slightly. “this yours?”

The girl stares in horror. Her cheeks turn a dark shade of something between red and pink as the voice calls out to her and she’s suddenly imprisoned by his gaze. With whatever courage she has left, Dinah gives a small nod and a little wince ( the latter mostly for herself ). Gosh! is she embarrassed… Wearing that shame, she quickly stands for her place –almost spilling the contents of her mug– and reaches his side. And then she’s not exactly what she even came there to do. “S-sorry… can I? Ah! Let me help you clean that up.” Dinah searches for the closest napkin and quickly damps it with the coffee poured on the table. “It didn’t get your clothes did it?”

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slightly laughs softly at barrel’s comment about bugs, nodding. “yeah, bugs are neat. unless they’re wreaking havoc on my garden, then they can fuck off.” and he winces at how lame that sounded. he doesn’t talk about his garden often, growing flowers isn’t a cool thing for a young man such as himself to do. god, fuck gender norms. and upon hearing that it’s leaves in his hair, slightly reaches up to card his fingers through and brush them out, undoubtedly mussing it up a bit in the process.

a soft hum leaves slightly’s lips as he listens to barrel explain their nickname, nodding as they speak to ensure that he’s listening. “that’s neat.” he states, fingers still brushing through his hair. “and yeah, i’ve heard the phrase lock, stock, and barrel before! it’s like. the whole kit an’ caboodle or, uh. something like that.” and a slow smile graces slightly’s features when barrel says his name again. “cool. thanks, barrel.” and slightly tries to pinpoint the origin of his own nickname in his memories, a fact for a fact, but he can’t really seem to. he’s always been slightly and that’s just how it’s been. “i don’t really remember where my nickname came from,” he admits aloud, gaze flicking to the grass. “ ‘ve just been slightly for, like, ever.”

“oh, i sleep! just not very well,” he joked, laugh bubbling past his lips. it wasn’t that slightly was an insomniac, it’s just that he had a lot of thoughts and a mind that didn’t always quiet itself like it should when his eyes were closed and the lights were off. and when barrel sits, slightly takes it upon himself to move a bit closer and sit down across from him. “it’s romantic, in theory. falling asleep beneath the light of the moon, the stars your only company as they watch over you.” he hums. “but in practice it can be very uncomfy. you’re literally sleeping on sticks and rocks and shit.” his shoulders lift in a half-hearted shrug. “i just like tracing constellations til i fall asleep, it’s like. my version of that whole counting sheep thing? ‘s calming.” slightly’s not really used to talking about himself, where does he even start? but he really would like to get to know his new companion better... so he pipes in with a teasing “i’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours.” with a crooked smile that softens at barrel’s question. slender fingers move to nudge his glasses back into place before “i don’t mind the company. i rather like it, it’s... nice not to be alone.”

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slightly straightens his posture a bit as the other steps closer. he’s still not sure what to expect of them, he’s never seen them around before. maybe this was just another restless soul who couldn’t sleep, seeking solace in the cool night air and the promise of adventure under the stars, much like him. and while most logic would tell you to be wary of strangers you meet in the darkened woods, slightly found himself more intrigued than scared of the fellow before him. one hand lifts to adjust his glasses, fingers nudging the frames further up his nose. he’d decided earlier that contacts were too much effort for a late night bout of stargazing, at least he could fall asleep with his glasses on.

slightly cocks his head to one side when barrel speaks again, nose scrunching a moment before “is it a bug? i don’t mind them.” he assures, thinking perhaps that was what he had started to tell him. and then barrel is smiling and- oh. slightly can feel his lips quirk into a smile of his own as any previous apprehension melts away. “barrel,” he repeats, “it’s very nice to meet you. fuck ‘real names.’ a real name is whatever name you’re most comfortable with. that’s how i look at it.” he says with a shrug. and he nods at barrel’s observation. “yeah. been goin’ by it since i was a kid, it feels kinda weird to be called by anything else ‘less it’s by my parents.”

an understanding hum leaves his lips as barrel explains themself. “i get that. i couldn’t sleep, ‘s why i came out here. i dunno what i was expecting to find but you definitely weren’t it.” he says with a laugh before flashing a toothy smile. “most of my nightly star gazing trips end in either me going home and passing out in bed or literally falling asleep under the stars, so. interesting turn of events. can’t say i’m disappointed.”

barrel laughs a little to himself— “no, it’s not a bug. i think i’d quite like it if it was. bugs are really cool. i love those guys. just some leaves,” they explain. slightly smiles back, which is good. they know they haven’t scared him too much, then. or maybe they haven’t scared him at all. even better.

“yeah… that’s right, actually. it’s funny ‘cuz the whole nickname thing— at least for me— it’s ‘cuz of my siblings. there’s three of us, and waaay back… someone just started callin’ us lock, shock and barrel… i think it’s an old phrase, y’know. an expression… means all together. complete. i think it’s actually supposed to be stock, though, but…—” he stops himself. is barrel selick — of all people — nervous rambling? he can’t think of a time he’s ever done that in his entire life, and he’s not really sure why it’s happening now. “b-but yeah. you’re right, fuck real names. you got it, i’ll call you slightly.” he already said it a moment ago, yet he’s uttering the name again, as if confirming he heard right… but really, he just wants to hear the sound of his own voice saying it for a second time.

“you don’t sleep either, huh? well, actually, i coulda’ guessed that,” he says, eyes lingering on the other’s smile for a moment. “can’t say i’m disappointed, either. nice to find someone else who nerds out about the night time.” he takes off his jacket, lays it on the grass and sits down on top of it, leaning his back up against a tree stump. “falling asleep under the stars… now that’s something i’ve actually never done. tell me some other things about yourself, slightly. you seem interesting. oh, and—” big, green, wild eyes peer at the other with curiosity, and suddenly he’s tempted by the thought of just… staying here all night, learning about the other, getting to know him. something about him is captivating. “…you don’t mind the company… right?”

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#mood

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slightly had been deep in thought, texting while he nursed his iced coffee. so deep in thought, in fact that the impact of one mysterious flying pencil startled an “ah!” out of him, straw flicking out of his mouth and sending a spray of iced coffee in its wake. he stared a moment at the coffee-splattered table before “fuck.” and then his fingers found the culprit, the pencil, and his gaze flicked in the direction it came from. rolling the pencil between his fingers, he lifted it up slightly. “this yours?”

Rain drops splatter against the coffee shop’s windows. Not too fat, not too frequent, yet enough to leave her stranded on the place until further notice. With a sigh, she picks up the warm mug on her table and takes a sip– only to move her arm in just the right way to send her pencil overboard and off to the far off land of god knows whose table. That’s great.

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“good! as long as you like it, no one else’s opinion is important.” slightly said with a nod. he was very much of the Wear Whatever The Fuck You Want And Fuck Anyone Who Tries To Bring You Down mindset. he ran his fingers through his hair and gave a soft hum at her question. “i do. the color really suits you. not that i have a before to compare it too but.” a shrug. “it looks good, you’re workin’ it.”

slightly glanced up from his own phone to the girl across from him. running a hand through his hair, he cocked his head to one side. “do you like it?” he asked, referring to the change in question. if you asked him, the color really suited her. it didn’t clash with her skintone or anything, so it was certainly aesthetically pleasing. “the only thing that matters is if you like it.”

    maybe she shouldn’t have spoken out loud. at least not when someone was around. she nearly jumped in surprise at his question. it took her a moment to look away from her own phone screen,“ i think i do.” it was the first time she had ever actually changed her hair. she was reaching to twirl a strand around her finger,“ that’s true,” she paused,“ do you think it looks good though? i promise i won’t get offended if you say no.”

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slightly noticed that tootles seemed to squirm less at the mention of cute crop tops. a smile curving his lips, slightly nodded. “this is me we’re talking about, tootles. of course i have pictures.” he signed back.

reaching into his back pocket, slightly retrieved his phone and started scrolling through his recent pictures - a few dumb memes, progress pictures of the flowers in his windowbox garden, and finally the aforementioned crop tops. “here, feel free to scroll through!” slightly hummed, offering his friend his phone. “don’t worry, there’s nothing weird to run into if you scroll back too far.”

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slightly’s lips quirked into a soft smile as his friend complained about the bites that came with being outside at night and shook his head. “don’t scratch!” he signed back, pointing a finger at tootles. “it’ll only make things worse. tap them instead if you have to.” he hummed when asked about his own experiences and gave a shrug, running his manicured fingers through his hair. “sketching, exploring, buying cute crop tops now that they’re in season.” he grinned lightly. “the usual.”

Tootles shook his head, bouncing up and down in his seat as he resisted the urge to scratch. “But I want toooooo. Tapping doesn’t do anything.” He replied with a whine. He knew it was only a temporary reprieve but the thought of not being itchy for a few seconds seemed totally worth it. “Oh? Cute crop tops? Tell me more! Do you have pics?” Tootles asked, eyes lighting up as he signed. Suddenly, it was as if the bug bites didn’t exist. All that was on the brunet’s mind was cute clothes.

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dude it’s 4:20 u know what that means bro [leans in for a kiss]

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Waking up on a Monday

Photo by Ryan Askren