“If i were you, I would move before I make you move.”  @ridereblogs​

“oh, come on - it says i’m 21, what else do you want me to show you? look, my friends, they’re inside, if you let me in and show you they can tell you -“ just by the look on the bouncer’s face (even if they didn’t really emote all that much) eli could tell that he wasn’t getting anywhere with his pleading. usually, on nights like this when he’d be invited to accompany some of the other diablos to some bar or club in town, he’d be able to enter with the rest of them and not have to worry about a thing - but he’d promised he’d be fine getting in on his own if he came a bit late like he had, the bouncers would recognise him, except he hadn’t prepared for there being someone new at the door. and it wasn’t even as if he could play the diablo card to get in, either - he had brought his license to get in (an altered one for his age, sure, but a bike license nonetheless) but, having come on foot, not his bike, and so now, here he was; stuck outside, alone, in the texan-version-of-cold, probably looking to the others like he’d bailed. he was getting to the point where he was half-considering calling one of the other members for help, something he’d sworn to himself he’d never do, he couldn’t look that helpless in front of them - but it was just at that moment when he spotted someone coming up to the door behind him. hit with an apparently sudden jolt of energy, he gave them a quick glance - “you can vouch for me, can’t you?” he asked, giving them a half-hopeful, half-pleading look before turning back to the bouncer with a small smile.

IF THERE WAS COMFORT to be found at the bottom of an empty bottle, she was certain to find it tonight. Her sin soaked goal of numbing the dull ache of emotional pain was one that continued to linger right out of reach, to taunt her with open, inviting arms only to disappear at the last second. Years of training dictated that she didn’t dare show that weakness thought, and instead features were knotted into firm lines, concentrating on the dart board poised in front of her. 

Eyes narrowed just a bit, like that was going to assist with the way the dart seemed to twist between grip of two fingers, and finally it was let go, leaning her body into the shot she took; just like dear old dad had taught her. Perhaps that was the vaguely tragic truth, that her being raised in tiny bars just like this one resulted in such a oddly specific skill set. Regardless, she could feel the eyes on her, like they were threatening to crawl right up her back at any moment. This annoyance begged to be called out without even turning around to attempt to put a FACE TO A FEELING.

“Alright, tell me what the fuck you want before I have to call Chris Hansen or some shit. To catch a predator would be ashamed of your ass.” 

ELBOW CAME TO REST ON THE BAR IN FRONT OF HIM, PALM MAKING THE PERFECT HOME FOR HIS CHIN. That almost wistful smile was hidden behind it for a moment, which was a shame in and of itself. A moment is taken, before lips part for a sigh that matches that expression. “While I do believe that everyone has a right to dress how they please.” He starts, musing more to himself than anything, or anyone else. “And I’m sure I’d be hung on twitter by the small dicks matter movement, which is ironic, in and of itself.....I just don’t feel like one should be out wearing grey sweat pants without the rest of the package. We’ve been robbed a proper dick print and I for one, would like to file a complaint.”