#ddcclopin

[wendyish]

↕ 6'1" AND CLOPIN

look at these two. they still have to go to 7/11

[carnival-confessions]

[carnival-confessions]

[carnival-confessions]

[theskeletonkxd-blog]

The Kid’s Not Alright

Barrel had told himself it was really no big deal and it wasn’t really his fault, it was the first time he’d ever done that, so it wasn’t that big of deal. However, the more he told himself it wasn’t that big of a deal, the more it bothered him. It hadn’t been fair, that was what was circling in his brain now, and it should be fair. And there was only person Barrel could think of to ask for help, or only one person he was willing to ask. Clopin already knew the whole situation, so he wouldn’t have to worry about explaining why he was asking the question he had and he was 99% sure that Clopin would know what to do. How strange it was how much Barrel was seeing Clopin now when just a few months ago he’d thought of pushing the guy off the back of the train in the middle of the night. (Not to kill him, just to make it so he’d never have to see him again). He’d texted Clopin, simply asking him to meet him and really hoping he’d show up. Barrel was currently sitting in the lounge of the hotel, his knee bouncing as he waited for Clopin, and really wishing he had his fake ID on him to buy a drink. Just 3 months and he could get rid of the thing for good. 

[stealingeveryonesleftshoe]

Bangarang

Everything was sore now that the adrenaline had worn off. He could feel spikes of pain with every movement of his muscles. His back and his head were throbbing the worst, his vision nearly cloudy from how many times his head had hit the ground. Even if  he'd put up a good front in front of his brother he felt like absolute garbage. Like he could topple over at any second. But there was no way he was going to limp around the place like he'd gotten his ass beat. No fucking way. His pride wouldn't let him and he didn't want to look weak in front of Leroy or Reuben.

He always felt like he was weaker than them, it drove him mad.

Stitch kept his back straight, walking almost as he normally would all the way back to his cabin after the fight. After Gantu had walked away from them and he'd managed to persuade Leroy he wasn't in pain. But the second he had the door closed behind him he nearly slumped to his knees, his back screaming with a dull pain. His face still felt swollen and touching his lip he pulled back a bit of red on his fingertips. Great. He shuffled his way into the small kitchen, filling up a towel with ice from the freezer.

The couch would have to be base for now, he felt like laying down might make him fall asleep and that wasn't particularly good after getting hit in the head. He had to let himself drop into it, grunting softly at the impact as pain shot up his spine. 

"Fucking...asshole." He grumbled, setting the ice against his cheek.

[theskeletonkxd-blog]

“Yo Clopin, hey hi, um, you kiss boys a lot don’t you?”

[wendyish]

✧ | Clopin

When she’d stumbled (quite literally.) into Clopin as he was leaving the bar, she’d been quick to apologize to the ringmaster. It was easy to notice he was absolutely trashed, his words slurred as he shuffled about. When she’d pointed this out to him, however, she was corrected with what she assumed was an attempt at a sharp tone adamantly insisting “I am not slurring my words.” but, honestly, the words seemed to blend together even more.

“It’s not called slurring your words. It’s called talking in cursive and it’s fucking elegant.“ He wasted no time reiterating himself as Wendy tried to figure out what she should do.

“Of course it is, Clopin.” Her attempt to try and soothe him seemed more like a snarky comeback and Wendy could feel herself wince, as if she’d actually hit herself. She wondered if trying to help him back to his car would make this better or worse, or if she should just leave now and pretend nothing had happened.