[2wheelz]

        ✱ 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐀𝐑 aka rhea blakely ✱ dancer at deseo, currently unaffiliated. ( intro. pinterest. )

        ✱ 𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐀 aka diego chihuán ✱ sergeant at arms for the diablos. ( intro. pinterest. )

... affiliated with ridefm. written by ray ( twenty5. she/her. gmt. )

[2wheelz]

@𝐒𝐔𝐆𝟒𝐑 : sugar, spice n' everything nice / tagging @thickskcll & @windturns.

[2wheelz]

✱ 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐒, closed for @thickskcll / eloisa.

✱ 𝐒𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆, isa's place, the morning after the brawl.

𝐒𝐇𝐄'𝐒 𝐁𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐔𝐏 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓, worrying about her stupid best friend who stupidly jumped to her defense last night and stupidly ended up in jail. why was she so stupid !? rhea could hardly talk. she's never been the sharpest tool in the shed, but directly involving herself in a reaper v diablo showdown? her dumbest move to date. still no word from isa. the guilt sinks to the pit of her stomach, and it hurts much more than the busted lip throbbing on her face ― the reason isa was stuck in a cell in the first place, probably with a bunch of weirdos and some sweaty guy doing push ups in the corner. totally not speaking from experience.

📱 ➞ ＋1 new message.

𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐏𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐕𝐈𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐒, and she nearly drops it as she scrambles to open the notification. it's her. fast forward ten minutes, and she's outside isa's apartment, banging hard enough to wake the whole of straton. " open up, you idiot ! " the banging continues, relentless. when the door finally swings open, rhea's halfway through a breathless insult before she sees isa standing there ― tired and bruised, but alive. without thinking, she throws her arms around isa's smaller frame, squeezing so tight she might suffocate. she escaped the diablos, but not rhea's deathly embrace. " i hate you. " she mumbles into her shoulder, voice shaky. it means 'i love you' really. just as quickly, she's shoving isa back, landing a hit to her arm. " what the hell were you thinking !? "

[2wheelz]

📱 txt msg to isa 🐻 / @thickskcll. rhea: ur so stupid!!!!! rhea: are u ok 😭😭😭😭 rhea: why am i texting u ur in jail rhea: UGH THIS IS ALL MY FAULT rhea: text me as soon as ur out!!!!!! rhea: are u out yet?????? rhea: hellooooooo rhea: i hate u rhea: but i love u sm rhea: +15 more messages

[jettail]

STARTER: open — capping at ( 05 / 06 ) WHERE AND WHEN: deseo, around 8pm or so.

. . . . . ╰──╮ the music is loud, the air thick with smoke and laughter, the kind of night that promises trouble before it even really begins. deseo is packed, the bar drowning in orders, and jett is in his element – moving fast, pouring drinks, trading easy grins with familiar faces.

he leans against the counter, forearms resting on the polished wood, and looks at the person across from him. his smile is lazy, teasing, the kind that makes it seem like he’s got all the time in the world when, really, he doesn’t.

❛ — so, what’s it gonna be tonight? ❜ he asks, tapping his fingers against the bar top. ❛ — something strong? something smooth? or are we feeling reckless? ❜

[2wheelz]

" 𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐓𝐄𝐌𝐏𝐓 𝐌𝐄. " it'd become a break - time tradition, meeting jett at the bar for a mid - shift shot. or two. " last time you got me in trouble with kendra, y' lil devil ― i'm surprised i still have a job after i threw up in that poor guy's lap. don't think that's what he had in mind when he came lookin' for a lap dance. " she shakes her head, but can't help the laugh that escapes pursed lips. " what in tarnation did you put in that damn drink anyways!? "

[fearstreat]

༄　outside hell's gate,  around  12am ༄　closed for diego chihuán @2wheelz

　　༄　　𝗛𝗘𝗥𝗗𝗜𝗡𝗚  𝗣𝗥𝗢𝗦𝗣𝗘𝗖𝗧𝗦  𝗜𝗦  𝗡𝗢𝗧  𝗛𝗢𝗪  𝗦𝗢𝗟𝗔𝗡𝗔  𝗘𝗫𝗣𝗘𝗖𝗧𝗘𝗗  𝗛𝗘𝗥  𝗡𝗜𝗚𝗛𝗧  𝗧𝗢  𝗚𝗢.  she  feels  like  a  hen  getting  her  chicks  in  order,  demanding  they  return  to  the  forge  before  they  get  caught  doing  god  knows  what  at  the  diablos'  party.  she  doesn't  remember  when  she  turned  into  such  a  square,  a  mother  whose  only  job  is  to  look  out  for  her  kids,  when  she  used  to  run  free  like  there  was  nothing  that  could  stop  her.  back  then,  she  felt  invincible.  she  thinks  it's  her  youth  falling  far  behind  her,  out  of  grasp  like  a  balloon  let  loose  in  the  wind,  but  it's  also  the  simply  notion  that  times  are  changing.  there  are  different  people  in  charge,  now,  and  that  meant  anything  put  in  place  over  the  years  could  be  gone  in  the  blink  of  an  eye.  she's  just  about  done  sending  the  last  of  the  prospects  back  when  he  catches  her  eye,  clad  in  a  well-worn  leather  jacket  and  bathed  in  an  air  of  confidence  that  can  only  come  from  the  power  he  wields  as  the  diablos'  sergeant  at  arms.  it's  practically  instinct  to  roll  her  eyes  at  his  presence,  now.  “  can  i  help  you?  ”  she  asks,  a single brow  raised  as  she  approaches  the  older  man  with  a  strut  that  screams  undeniably  inebriated.  “  or  did  you  come  out  here  to  kick  my  ass  off  enemy  territory?  ”

[2wheelz]

𝐇𝐄'𝐃 𝐁𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐖𝐀𝐓𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐄𝐑 ― marching kids around like she owns the place. he remembers when she was just a twenty - something newbie herself. reaper's girl. out of towner. he'd seen her back then, too ― fresh face wearing a biker jacket she hadn't earned yet, playing the doting girlfriend to a man who'd made real enemies in his time. did she know? " nah, " breathes out between a humorless laugh and puff of smoke, barely glancing her way as he flicks the ash to the floor. " if i wanted you gone, you'd be gone. " the words roll off his tongue like he's said them a million times before. like he's acted on them a million times before. but he's just having fun, really. yanking her chain. he'd never hurt a woman. wouldn't need to. they're much smarter than that. husbands, on the other hand...

brow raises as she struts in his direction, eyes laced with amusement as they finally reach hers; glazed over, drunk. much like his own. 𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐒 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐆𝐀𝐙𝐄 𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐀 𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐎𝐎 𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆 ― not because of some reminder of past actions that meant nothing to him, but because there was something irritably entertaining about watching her stumble around, keeping a peace he never agreed to. " better keep those prospects on a tight leash. " flicks his cigarette to the curb, grinding it out beneath his boot as he backs off the wall, inching toward her. " wouldn't wanna go breaking that peace treaty, would we? " an easy jab, one that didn't require much force. a shared history did the heavy lifting for him ― years of bad blood, the kind that doesn’t disappear just because a couple of presidents shook hands two decades ago. " then again... " a lopsided smirk toys at his lips as the space closes between them. " not like you've got much to lose these days. "

[2wheelz]

✱ 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐒, closed for @ridcersa / katerina.

✱ 𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍, hell's bar.

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐘 𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 𝐇𝐈𝐌 ― laughter, music, the heavy scent of beer and smoke thick in the air. the kind of night he'd lived a thousand times over, the kind he would usually lose himself in without a second thought. and yet, even with a near empty bottle in his grip and the feeling of family by his side, he felt hollow. like something was missing. or someone. he didn't let himself dwell on it, never did. just drank more, laughed when expected, allowed the chaos of the night to swallow him whole. but even as he held his weight up against the bar, hazy from the liquor, he could feel it ― her absence. it ate at his chest, nothing to feed on but a raging fire that had been burning since he was a child. one that only katerina could control ― funny that his wife turned out to be a firefighter. like it was meant to be.

thought he was seeing things when he spotted her through the crowd. maybe the alcohol was playing tricks on 𝐀 𝐅𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐃, maybe he'd drunk himself into wishful thinking. but no, it was her. his wife. a beauty so unmistakable. what was she doing here? she never came to these things ― not willingly. a homebody, she called herself. he didn't mind. quite liked it, actually. she was always there waiting for him when he got home after a hard day, an escape from reality... ― ouch! hit a nerve. it hurt him, thinking of the way they used to be. he knew her once. every part of her. she was a language he could speak in his sleep. and now his tongue feels tied.

𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐄𝐄𝐓𝐒 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒 from across the room, breath catching in his throat. the silence between them hums louder than the music. he should go to her. he should run to her, take her in his arms like he did on their wedding night. but for the first time in his life, he hesitates. she looks different. or maybe she doesn't. maybe it's the space between them stretching so wide that he can't see her clearly anymore. grip tightens around the bottle, knuckles white, breath slow. he has fought wars for men he calls brothers, bled for them ― but facing her now feels like the hardest battle of all. and yet, he moves. picks up his feet before fear roots him in place.

𝐇𝐄'𝐒 𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐑 𝐍𝐎𝐖. close enough to catch the scent of her, like a high all on its own. he doesn't know what to say. has spent so long not talking to her, he doesn't know if he has the right. " mi querida... " words are soft, familiar. almost reaches for her cheek, one he so desperately wants to caress. but something is holding him back. the fear of letting her in, the fear of being seen, the fear that underneath his anger only lies hurt. instead his fingers clench the bottle of whiskey that had taken her place tonight, one he knows he shouldn't be holding in front of her. " what are you doing here? "

[tvandfilm]

KEVIN CAN F**K HIMSELF (2021— ) S01E05, New Patty

[2wheelz]

@thickskcll .

[2wheelz]

✱ 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐒, closed for @thickskcll / eloisa.

✱ 𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍, deseo.

" what're you doing over here on your 𝐋𝐈𝐋' 𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄, missy ? " probably trying to enjoy her food in peace, but there's no such thing where rhea's concerned. she scooches in to isa's booth, opting to squeeze directly next to her rather than the much more sensible option of the chair opposite ― practically sitting on her lap, body glitter rubbing off on isa's signature leather jacket. " this party is wild ! look at the tips i've made already... " hands dig in to her sequined bum bag, throwing a handful of loose dollar bills in the air, the scrunched up notes falling not so gracefully around them. " best believe i danced my ass off for this. n' mr. drool all over his dusty grey beard over there couldn't keep his hands to himse ― " eyes widen, stopping herself before isa could hear the rest. kendra would kill her if she bought more trouble to the club, and isa ― bless her heart ― doesn't play when it comes to rhea. that guy could be drooling blood any minute now. " anyways... help me clean this up. " she's on her hands and knees now, picking up her hard earned cash from the floor.

[ivynightshade]

fatima aamer bilal, excerpt from moony moonless sky’s ‘i am tired of making a religion out of my suffering’.

[text id: i am too little, and too much, and never enough.]

[feral-ballad]

Jennifer S. Cheng, So We Must Meet Apart; “August 24, 2018”

[2wheelz]

✱ ( keke palmer. cis woman. she/her. twenty - eight. ) in texas, 𝐑𝐇𝐄𝐀 𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐋𝐘 is more commonly known as 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐀𝐑. they've been living in stratford for her whole life and is currently a dancer at deseo. some say they are dramatic & restless, but i'm more inclined to believe those that say they're bubbly & charismatic. if you walk by their house, you can sometimes hear sad girlz luv money by amaarae & kali uchis playing from their window. ( a sweet southern drawl, smooth as honey & twice as thick, calling everybody 'sugar' like it's a promise and a distraction all at once — neon lights flickering in a haze of cigarette smoke & sweet perfume — getting lost in an applause that never feels loud enough ).

✱ 𝐁𝐈𝐎𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐏𝐇𝐘 ...

she's always been here. this small town, a place that reeks of gasoline, cheap beer and broken dreams. she grew up in a quiet house — not because it was peaceful, but because no one was ever home. her parents were working class. good, honest people, but too busy to notice the little girl glued to the tv screen, running from reality, dreaming of a life much bigger than this one. she had an older brother to keep her company for a while, but he left the first chance he got, only proving what she already knew; she had to get outta here.

high school rolled around, and she was the kind of girl that never blended into the background — popular, made for the spotlight, even if the only stage she ever found was the auditorium, she made it work. starred in every production, and made sure everybody knew it, too. she lived for the applause, the eyes that followed her when she walked into the room. and for a while, it was enough.

but high school ends, and the world moves on. she was supposed to move on, too — she was going to be somebody. even danced her way into college. but dreams don't pay the rent, and somewhere along the way, she got lost in dollar bills, neon lights and biker attention; the years slipped through her fingers and she got comfortable. one bad decision turned into another, and before she knew it, she was still here, still dancing at deseo, still yapping on about how she was supposed to make it big.

✱ 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒 ...

she calls everybody sugar, honey, or darlin' & in a strong southern accent, which is where her stage name comes from.

reapplies lipgloss when she's nervous. glossy lips, perfect smile as the distraction.

watches old hollywood movies on a busted vhs player, reminiscent of her childhood.

clueless about bikes, but loves her little convertible, blasting music with the top down, screaming at the top of her lungs in the desert.

knows everybody's business, and doesn't know how to keep her mouth shut.

talks with her hands, big and dramatic.

smells like shea butter and weed. swears she'll give up, but never does.

✱ 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 ...

roomie ... ( open to any gender ) rhea is v loud and messy so do with that what you will shjfjhs, but also v openly loving, e.g leaving notes for y/m to read while they're in the shower, making them soup when they're sick, etcetc.

toxic situationship ... ( open to any gender, must be part of either gang ) its messy, it's passionate, it's bad decisions wrapped in leather and late night rendevouz. gimme y/m getting jealous when she's stripping, rhea getting jealous when they gets other girls to dance for them, even though neither of them have the right bc they're not together. loud arguments, fighting n making up. we can plot out details!!!

high school sweetheart ... ( open to any gender ) still figuring this one out, but mayb we could plot it together!!! they wouldn't be together rn, but give me rhea's first heartbreak!!

people from high school ... ( open to any gender ) she's one of those popular girls that peaked in high school, swore she was going to make it big, but low and behold sjfhjksjh... they could've been friends, they could still be friends, they could've grown apart, there could be jealousy from rhea's side bc they did something with their life whereas rhea......didn't, rhea could've made y/m's high school experience hell ( unknowingly, she's not cruel, but she's v self centered ), they could've dated in high school and are now such close friends they're like what were we even thinking???? the possibilities are endless :-)

deseo regulars ... ( open to any gender ) self explanatory hehe. we could expand on the dynamic, like mayb y/m pays rhea for a private dance weekly, but really they just sit n talk bc y/m has no one else or whatever reason shjfkjdsh??? or we can plot smth!!!

flings / crushes / exes ... ( open to any gender ) rhea loves love, but falls out of it just as quickly as she falls in. we can plot details!!

people that don't like her ... ( open to any gender ) maybe they find her annoying, which really isn't hard shjkfhd, maybe she accidentally broke up a relationship, etcetc. we can plot it out!!!

dealer ... ( open to any gender ) rhea is a regular smoker, semi regular other things skhfkd, we can work out the dynamic!!!

more tba!

[2wheelz]

✱ ( benjamin bratt. cis man. he/him. fifty - two. ) in texas, 𝐃𝐈𝐄𝐆𝐎 𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐇𝐔𝐀́𝐍 is known to most as 𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐀. they have been riding with the diablos for thirty - one years. they're originally from newton and the sergeant at arms is known to be very arrogant & vindictive, but other club members will tell you they are diligent & passionate. as the years go by, they've gained a lot of respect in the club and around town. they rarely ever drive a car but when they do remedy by the black crowes is usually heard blasting. ( bruised knuckles — the roar of his engine as the gang rides out like a second heartbeat — years of history stitched into his leather jacket, the weight of tradition heavy on his shoulders, inked into his skin like a map of every scar and sacrifice — a lifetime of forgotten loyalty, resentment leaving a bitter taste on his tongue ).

✱ 𝐁𝐈𝐎𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐏𝐇𝐘 ...

born in peru, raised in lima by a mother who loved fiercely but had little else to give. he was wild from the start, a boy with fire in his veins and fight in his fists. as puberty hit, the streets had started to call his name and his mother, fearful of what he might become under her gentle touch, made a choice that changed his life. at the age of twelve, he and his little sister were on a plane to a foreign land, texas, sent to live with a stranger, his father.

( ** tw: abuse ). his father was strict, hard in ways that left scars beneath the skin. a forgotten 'sir' or missed sunday service earned a beating. god was always watching from the crosses nailed into every wall as his father spoke of sins and salvation, of a world with no place for soft hearted boys. though it wasn't the blows that stung the most — it was the favoritism. his sister; the golden child, daddy's little princess, treated like a delicate thing to be protected whilst diego was trained to be a soldier. taught that boys didn't cry, men provided, and emotion was a weakness best buried.

by seventeen, the streets had called his name once again. he ran away, carrying nothing but his mother's name and the weight of expectation on his back. he learned to survive, to fight, to hustle, and then he found the diablos. or maybe they found him. they gave him something his father never did: a place to belong. his father's house was never his home, and neither was texas until he earned that patch on the back of his leather jacket.

he started at the bottom. a prospect with something to prove, pushing through every test, every hazing ritual, every bloodied knuckle initiation the gang threw at him. loyalty burned in his chest, and ambition even hotter. the diablos rewarded men who bled for them, and diego bled plenty. he climbed the ranks the only way he knew how — with fists, fire and hunger. prison slowed him down, but never stopped him. a few years behind bars for the kind of charges that came with the life he chose — assault, possession, a job gone sideways — but a diablo never snitched, so he took his time on the chin and came out even hungrier than before. the gang was still his when he got out, waiting for him like an old lover, and so he picked up right where he left off.

but five years ago, everything changed. a new president was crowned, and it wasn't him. instead, they gave him sergeant at arms. third in command. the bronze medal. a pat on the back for decades of loyalty, but not the throne he'd been chasing since he was seventeen. the gang knew he was erratic. said he was too impulsive, too prone to outburst, too hot - headed to lead. he swallowed the decision, a traditional man that has always respected his leaders, but the bitter taste of resentment hasn't left his tongue since. will he start questioning his life - long loyalty to the diablos ?

✱ 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒 ...

his biker nickname, killa, comes from the quechua meaning for moon, a nickname his mother used to call him, but most of his gang believe it to mean he's a cold blooded killer, which he doesn't correct.

carries cash, never cards. he doesn't trust banks and certainly not paper trails. always has a wad of cash in his pocket, folded tight with a sentimental money clip.

fixes his own bike. he doesn't let anyone else touch it. spends hours in the garage, fixing her up, hands stained with grease, listening to country rock or music that reminds him of home, like rancheras or spanish ballads.

drives a pick up truck. keeps his bike in pristine condition, but his truck is a mess - empty beer bottles, old maps, and spare bullets scattered inside.

never complains about pain. could literally be bleeding out and he'd say " i'm fine, it's just a scratch. "

has a leather jacket collection. but his oldest one - the one covered in patches, scars and history - is his favorite.

can't sleep without background noise. too many years on the road.

he's quite the artist. he loves creating charcoal pieces.

never says 'i love you', but his actions will always show it - fixing a bike, paying a debt, standing between someone and a bullet.

✱ 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 ...

wife ... wc on the main.

nephew ... wc on the main.

turned head? / enemies to lovers ... ( open to f/nb, must be a reaper, 37+ ) diego has always been a one woman kinda man. okay, not always, but the vows he made to his wife set him straight. however, their marriage is slowly falling apart, and somehow y/m has slipped through the cracks. nothing has physically happened... yet... but it may as well have with the kinda thoughts he has about them. bonus points if they're a reaper and it's an enemies / underlying attraction kinda vibe hehe???

like a sister ... ( open to f/nb, must be a civilian or diablo ) diego lost his younger sister a few years back during a dodgy dealing and blames himself. y/m reminds him of her n he just wants to protect her ( and clings onto her bc subconsciously he's not ready to let go ) </3

enemies ... ( open to any gender ) trust me he has plentyyyyy, from reapers to law enforcement to civilians alike, he's a troublemaker. we could even have some diablo haters as he's known in the gang for making impulsive decisions that aren't always agreed with. we can plot the details!!!

fellow diablos ... ( open to any gender, must be a diablo ) maybe they're scared of him, maybe he's taken them under his wing, maybe they want him out of his position due to his explosive nature, maybe they're on his side and want him as president, maybe they're connected to the og members and we can do something there bc diego grew up with them, etcetc. we can plot it out!!!

ride or die ... ( open to any gender, must be a diablo, 45+ ) he needs a friend </3 he doesn't open up easy, he's v much "i am man i make fire i provide" but y/m is as close as he's gotten, bar his wife. they're partners in crime, grew up in the gang together, etcetc.

more tba!

[drrav3nb]

BENJAMIN BRATT as Parco Delgado DMZ (2022) dir. Ava DuVernay

[thepunkpanther]

Keke Palmer in One of Them Days (2025) dir. Lawrence Lamont