#chey 001.

[xaviermattthews]

for: @cheyxjohnson

where: third dimension records, LA

After an unpleasant meeting with his A&R -- neither he nor Xavier could meet in the middle when it came to his band's second album's sound -- Xavier was quick to take himself and his foul mood out of the building before he was offered another fucking Fiji water.

( Most days he's grateful to be sober, days like this? He'd kill for a scotch. )

He sidestepped the eager temp who was making a beeline for him, giving her no chance to chase after him as he called out to whoever it was that was in the elevator he was a few paces away from to hold it for him.

Given that he had to physically prevent the door from shutting with his hand, it seemed that he either wasn't heard or was and was ignored. He assumed it was the latter.

"Fuck you too, motherfucker." It was only when all six foot five of him was in the confined space did he realise just who he was in there with. "No fucking way."

[luckylewis]

closed for: @cheyxjohnson

where: nearish the fountain, twenty minutes before the countdown

WIth some quick footedness, Lucky had managed to successfully avoid a run in with his younger sister. He loved Lori wholeheartedly, but he needed forewarning before he hung out with her to mentally ready himself and to brace for impact should their conversations go sideways as they tended to do.

If he could find the root cause for what had gone so awry between the pair of them, he would have done whatever he could to mend it, but that was a can of worms kept firmly closed for the sake of not upending his whole night.

If that meant he had to semi-conceal his presence behind a fountain, so be it. He could feel his stress levels spike at the sight of blonde in his peripheral, because it would be his exact luck that in trying to avoid someone who shared his last name with it would draw them right to him.

He turned his head fully and exhales a relief sigh at who it actually was.

"Chey, psst." Instant regret, milliseconds after it left his mouth. He reaches for the flask he had been carrying with him in his jeans pocket, the contents pure vodka and instant reprieve from whatever moment was deemed the right one to untwist the top.

"Wanna hang?" He holds the black and silver flask up to her, giving it an enticing shake like it might cinch the deal. "And watch these lights degenerate style?"

[luckylewis]

His eyes widened a little at her words and how it sounded like having more than one brother was a dangerous thing. He found himself with a sudden appreciation for the fact that he had some sisters in the mix.

"I think sisters always think their brothers are idiots. I know mine would definitely say the same about me." It was a part answer to her question, which is why he continued to answer it fully. "I've got 3 all together. An older brother, an older sisters and a younger sister. Couldn't even have being a middle child to myself."

Not that sharing that space in the birth order with Lemie was a hardship in any sense, but he had only gotten a year of being the youngest before his sister completed the line up.

"I liked having siblings growing up. I think I'd have been lonely without them."

The woman had a million and one stories about her older brothers. They defined her childhood, and oftentimes she found parts of herself that reflected them. While their home was loud and rambunctious back in the day, she wouldn’t have traded it for the world. Growing up with the mind she had, they were truly the much needed sunshine in her life - even when they were complete and utter assholes. 

“I know that feeling,” she rolled her eyes some. “My brothers loved to torture me. The amount of times I nearly died because of their stupid pranks is ridiculous... But I don’t know. They became my best friends. Even if they’re all still idiots.” She chuckled to herself and took a swig of her beer. 

Nodding her head towards him, she followed up with a question. “Do you only have one sibling?”

[chronicxwanderlust]

open to: chey johnson (@waveofstars)

based on: paul revere - noah kahan

ask meme: x

He'd known showing up would be a mistake.

It'd taken all of five minutes for what would've been a Hallmark Christmas without him to turn into a Lifetime drama, and the worst part was that there was nowhere for Carter to even go. He hadn't driven himself, and he'd left his damn phone inside, so there was no calling an Uber. He'd sooner walk to the airport than attempt to go back inside to retrieve it...but he'd left his jacket inside too.

So, he makes it as far as the porch, grateful for the cigarette he'd kept tucked behind his ear and the lighter in his pocket. Dropping down on the top step, he'd barely taken the first drag before the screen door creaked open behind him.

The weighted silence, even as they settled on the step beside him, told Carter everything he needed to know about who it was that'd come after him.

He takes a long second drag before passing the cigarette to his left.

"If I could leave, I would've already left."

[carterjohnsons]

The Aurora Bay Hospital Emergency Room was a madhouse.

The waiting room was overrun by patients and visitors alike, awaiting their turn to be checked in, checked out, or able to check on a loved one. Carter was much too impatient for the fanfare, considering he didn't even know if Mandy was there at all. His cell service still hadn't managed to get restored, and with his constant checking, his phone had died before the storm had ever stopped raging.

The forced radio silence had done little to ease the anxiety that had begun to creep up as his drinks had worn off. Not only did Carter have his own headache, but a crick in his neck, and a tightness in his chest from the antiseptic smell he would forever associate with near death.

But Mandy wasn't dying. She might not have even been there, but rather safe at home, or with friends, or somewhere other than lying on a hospital bed, alone, in pain, needing him--

Waiting wasn't going to work for him.

Bypassing the line that'd begun to form at the nurses station, Carter tried to appear as inconspicuous as possible as he slowly began to wander from closed curtain to curtain, quickly tugging them back in attempt to peer at who was inside.

"Wrong room."

"Apologies."

"Have you thought 'bout maybe seein' someone 'bout that?"

He had the next excuse on the tip of his tongue before he'd even drawn the last curtain back, but it died right in his throat at the sight of his sister in the bed before him.

"Fuckin' Christ, kid, how'd I know I'd find you here?" His relief was as obvious as the grin on his face, stepping further into the makeshift room and tugging the curtain closed behind him. "What'd you do, huh? Try and boogie board down the Quarter?"

@cheyxjohnson

[not-that-kinda-bj]

who: @cheyxjohnson and @connorxrose where: Chey's house

Now that Bobbi had been able to return home after the storm, staying with Finn for the month it took for the repairs to finish up, things felt... Different. She couldn't sleep at night, even in the comfort of her own bed. At least for the first couple of nights, she found herself typing out several texts she'd read over before letting out a frustrated sigh and deleting them every time.

She missed him. She shouldn't be missing him. And yet, here she was, moping.

Thankfully, she'd find little things to keep herself from dwelling on this for too terribly long. And when Chey called for a much-needed practice session, Bobbi swooped in, ready to start playing again. Hardly a day went by without her playing, usually devoting at least an hour a day to sitting at her keyboard. She'd missed that little ritual of hers.

The practice session had gone relatively well, having been over for a few minutes, but Bobbi still stood at her keyboard, lazily playing a simple tune. "So, do we have any shows coming up yet?" she asked, turning off the keyboard after a moment, grabbing her drink, and moving over to where Chey was sitting, sinking into the seat next to her.

[sinsoakedsaints]

"Someone like...?" Phoenix queries, a box of half-empty Marlboro reds in his hand, waiting to lose another cigarette to the habit he was kicking twice a month minimum.

It never panned out for him, which was in line with just about everything else in his life.

He plucks one from the box and indicates to the exit he just slipped out of, where both the party thrown for him and the colleague who was throwing herself at him was awaiting him.

"Sarah?" He says around the butt of cigarette held between his lips, an amused snort following. "That's funny. You're funny."

Sparking his lighter, he sparks up and takes a long drag, holding it out in offer to his best friend while he exhales.

"You didn't have to do all that for me, y'know. I'd have been plenty content with tacos and tequila, as per tradition."

@waveofstars

𝖔𝖕𝖊𝖓: m, f, nb, 30+ 𝖕𝖑𝖔𝖙: chey threw your muse a surprise birthday party. someone has been flirting with your muse all night long and chey found herself feeling secretly uneasy and unwilling to admit that maybe she has feelings for her best friend 𝖈𝖔𝖓𝖓𝖊𝖈𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓: best friends

The night was dwindling down and everything had gone according to plan. Drinks were filled, spilled, and enjoyed. Everyone was in high spirits celebrating the birthday of someone they all loved. Chey was happy to host the event, even happier to plan it all in surprise for them, yet a slight sadness lingered within her as she excused herself to spend some time alone outside. If she thought long enough about why she was feeling this way, she would likely have to come face to face with a truth that she was in no rush acknowledging. So, she took another swig of her beer and did her best to resist finding a cigarette to smoke. She could only break so many bad habits at a time. Whenever she heard someone walking towards her, she turned to see her best friend, the vip of the night. “What are you doing out here? You better get back in there before someone notices you’re gone,” she told them with a somewhat forced smile.

[tractractrac]

TRACTRACTRAC - 001

Sonido 75 presenta el programa 001 de TracTracTrac, e; nuevo programa mensual de En Tijuana Hay Rock. En esta ocasion, es el programa piloto con mucha música nueva para compartir.

Playlist:

Oak Palace - Tu Eres

El Sr. Dr. - Camino Entre Los Pilares De La Ciencia y La Medicina

Inside Joke - Aqui

Serum-K - Al-Kemik

Amazonica - New Start

Cezar Degraf - Valiente

Lost Weekend - Lorelei

Chey 'N' Shiners - Last Night Was a Better Night

Zephyr - Jet City Girl

Rune - The Elephant Song

Ancient Days - The Shape

Alex Vanderville - Solo

Into the Outside Box - Buho

Springworks - Snake Oil Salesman

Soraia - Union City Blue

MISS MICHIGAN - Bang Ur Drummer

MP GREY ft. Rudiger - Roller Coaster

Caroline Phillips - If Looks Could Kill

Love Ghost ft. Cinnamon Girl - Do You Like Me Know

Elli Glyn - Bewitched

MØSCU ft. Steph Egry - Recuperarte

Sabado 18 de Mayo

12 PM

rebrand.ly/escuchasonido75

sptfy.com/sonido75

[scott-gallego]

@cheyvalcntine​ Eureka Police Department

Scott never understood vandalism. But then again, Scott had never felt the urge to buck authority in any way. He’d been a diligent student, a scholar athlete, and his hard work had landed him at the Naval Academy, where he’d been certain to distinguish himself early. Very few officers got into flight school, let alone were tapped to train at the TOPGUN academy. But still he found himself at the local Police department, accompanied by a member of the military police, because someone had taken it upon themselves to spray paint... anatomy onto the naval base’s signage. So he found himself waiting for the detective assigned to the case, not at all enthused to have to be representing the Navy on such a reprehensible mission. 

[heavenisahope]

teenage dream //

@ohdarling​ // chey x joseph

It was the pinnacle of spring: that time of year when the mud was all dried up and everybody started to eat outside again. Advanced placement tests were over and even teachers were losing motivation to do their jobs, hungry to end it just to start all over. With less than a month left, junior year was practically over, and yet it was the start of a few brand new things for Joseph. 

For one, his parents finally let him get a fucking car. He didn’t have to promise great grades or anything, just to stay in school and balance out his days off so he wouldn’t be knocked for truancy. (Notice, they knew he wouldn’t be able to not play hooky every now and then, so it was pointless to make him promise 100% attendance.) His black Maserati Granturismo finally got shipped in this morning, and he drove that baby to school, practicing utmost self-control to keep it a secret from Chey. 

For two, basketball was over, and even though Port Aransas didn’t take the state championship home, they got pretty damn close. And Joseph got to see Dallas for the first time with Chey. It was time to start practicing soccer again, even if most of it came second nature to him anyway. The fields were mowed and the nets were put back out, and he was probably going to get into another fight with one of the football players for turf again. 

For three, Chey had been his girlfriend for a few months now. And, judging by their on-again off-again track record, that was pretty fucking long. It was complicated: When they first started dating, Joseph never made it official -- he just kept messing up. Only around the time of homecoming did Joey decide to ask her out. Though they always felt like a fleeting thing, he couldn’t shake the taste of permanence on his tongue whenever they kissed. 

And finally, the sun. Texas was a sunny place in general, but when it rained, it rained. It was good to feel the warmth on his skin again, remembering what the color yellow felt. 

But that car. 

He rushed through the lunch line in the cafeteria, slapping a five dollar bill on the counter before winking at Lupita, the lunch lady. On his bright red tray, he had his favorite meal: a greasy slice of pepperoni pizza, some chili cheese-flavored Fritos, an apple, and a sliced fruit cup, but for Chey. He shoved a can of Coke in his cargo shorts’ pocket, and it felt a little heavy to carry on one side, but he pushed out the glass doors to the picnic tables outside. 

He saw Chey sitting at one of the tables underneath the huge cherry blossom tree. Kirk, Ben, Luna, Rory, Lulu, and Beckett were there, too. Cohen was sleeping on the ground next to them, and Kirk and Beckett were trying to see how many cheese puffs they could drop on his face before he stopped thinking they were just petals. 

“Hey, idiots,” Joey said, sitting beside Lulu and across Chey. He tossed her fruit cup onto her tray and winked at her. “And beautiful lady. -- Better eat quick, ‘cause I got a surprise for you, and I wanna get outta here before anybody notices.” 

[landon-keller]

location; landon’s house in bayview with; @cheyvalcntine​ - closed

It wasn’t often that there was crime to be reported in Bayview, but Landon knew that if something happened he had some friends on the police force he could call for help. When he’d come home from work that afternoon to find his home had been broken into, he texted Cheyenne right away instead of calling the police department, he knew if she was on shift she’d come over. Though he hadn’t grown up with this girl, he found that he was drawn to her from the first time he saw her in Eureka. She was bold and brave, not to mention beautiful, and Landon was attracted to all of those qualities so he’d been confident in striking up conversations. She may have never taken him up on his offer to take her out on a date, but she put up with him and Landon loved the room she left for him to be snarky. “Hey, thanks for coming. I already walked through and there’s no one here but there are a few things missing that I’ve noticed and a couple of busted windows.”

[minotaur-unslain]

DATE: january 24th, 9:30pm LOCATION: Funfair STATUS: closed for @vindictagloria

Jin liked to think that he didn’t seek Marcella out personally; they’ve all been dragged out in various ways to the outside and spread out amongst the tents, but it also felt too coincidental to find himself bunched together with her. Not when his mind was racing with too many thoughts and opinions about the very rebels he knew that she aligned herself with.

It wasn’t as though he had been against the protest, sit ins were common forms of rebellion and Jin saw it as the perfect time to sleep off the hangover he had accumulated after their stay in Vegas, but from the minute audience members had gotten involved up until standing under the tent trying to decide if it would be worth it to start smoking a cigarette now or later all the reservations he had with the rebels as a group bubbled to the surface. And now he stood less than a foot away from the person he would bet anything was at least partially responsible for the idea in the first place.

“Well, this certainly went better than the last one.” There wasn’t entirely sarcasm laced in that sentiment. He had found their last attempt childish, both in its idea of what a rebellion should look like and in its lack of foresight, and while he wouldn’t consider this one the former, it seemed their attempts were still bogged down by the latter. “Although, I’m curious what did you think was going to happen next?”

[carterjohnsons]

Carter whistled. "Cookin' barbecue for the girl from Texas on the first date?" His head shook, tilted back for another sip of his beer. "These California boys are somethin' else, I'll tell you."

As cheesy as the apron itself was, it was a relief to learn that it hadn't in actuality belonged to their father (despite Amanda's intention to gift it to him). To know that it wasn't some physical reminder of a tradition Carter had fucked up his right to inherit and pass down for himself let him breathe a little easier, the noose it'd created around his neck, even after its removal, loosening before he could hang himself with it.

The apron, now just an apron, was tossed back onto the kitchen counter, swapped out for an empty plate in his hands. She'd gone all out, as usual; enough food to feed the whole city block, rather than just them two--though in his day, Carter would not have shied away from the challenge.

These days though, the hunger came and went. He could either give the All Nighter a run for their money with their all you can eat pancake special, or realize three days in that he hadn't eaten more than a handful of bar nuts and whatever he'd taken a bump of.

Today, he was somewhere in between, though it was probably more nostalgia than true hunger that loaded down his plate with all the fixins. It looked just as it should, glossy BBQ sauce, molasses thick, Carter's mouth watering at just the sight of it alone...but that smell?

Maybe their dad's tradition would live on.

(Carter told himself that the pang in his stomach was that of hunger, and not jealousy.)

"Do I remember--are you shittin' me? Do I remember Culver? Culver Braun? With the ears that were too big for his fuckin' head 'till he was fourteen goddamn years old?" The disbelief was clear on Carter's face.

The kid had been practically family, with a C name to match and all, and he knew he hadn't been the only one anticipating the day where it'd become official. Everyone in their lives had known of their feelings for one another, despite either of their protests...and though admittedly it'd been years since Carter had thought about the boy (man, now), the satisfaction of being right, however delayed, was evident in his grin.

"Well, shit, kid. Why didn't you tell me sooner?" His head shook. "Last I heard of him he...what, joined the fucking Navy?" Maybe it had been longer than he thought since he'd last asked.

Recognizing the misdirect towards the backyard for what it was, Carter followed, but she wasn't getting off the hook that easy. "No...what's crazy is that you two haven't just put us all out of our goddamn misery yet...unless he's in Santorini 'cause y'all are plannin' a big ol' destination weddin'?" His eyebrows wiggled playfully.

@cheyxjohnson

It was the stupidest apron she had ever seen, and he somehow made it even more stupid.

The laughter came easy and she shook her head at him, recalling just where she found it. As much it screamed that it must belong to their father, it surprisingly didn't. "Okay, not gonna lie, I stole that from a guy I went on a date with. He was a huge dick and cooked shit barbecue. He was real proud of that apron, too. I snagged it on my way out of there that night."

There were moments where her anger got the best of her, something Carter knew all too well. It was either steal that apron or punch that guy in the face. Considering she was already arrested once for the latter, she chose the former and safer option.

"I'll give it to dad for father's day. He'll love it." Chey took another swig of her beer before moving to make herself a plate of food. Loading up a variety of meat, she sucked on the side of her thumb to get some barbecue sauce off when he caught her attention with the mention of Greece.

"You're real fuckin' noisy, you know that?" She gave a little smirk before snatching the post card out of his hand. The crystal blue waters and beautiful scenery on the card made her both a little jealous and happy. The fact he even thought of her while in a country so beautiful touched Chey- more than she liked to admit. "It's, uh, from Culver. You remember him?" Chey placed it back on the fridge and admired it there for a moment before looking at Carter.

She mentioned Culver's name as if he was just a casual old friend that Carter may have met once or twice. However, that man was practically family and attached to Chey's hip since they were only kids. Of course he remembered Culver. "We reconnected a while back. I was at this wrap party on this boat, and then lo and behold, he was working on that boat. Crazy, right?" She went back to making her plate and nodded towards the back porch, again as if mentioning Culver was so casual. Chey knew her brother well enough to know the teasing about him would start soon. She was trying to avoid it. "Let's eat out there. Feels nice outside."

[llenore-blog]

DATE & TIME: January 18th, 10:30 A.M. LOCATION: Marci’s Sleeper Car TAG: @vindictagloria

Lenore knows what to do with a hangover. She’s grown up with this circus, knows by now the tell-tale signs of sunglasses being worn indoors, big breakfasts made by people who look vaguely like the undead, and the slight irritability only a pounding headache can induce. 

Vegas is a bright city, one she knows is full of things that’ll give a person a hangover the next day. She can’t take care of everyone in their Sleeper Cars, but she knows one person she wants to talk to, and one person who she’ll certainly want to tease for managing to have a poor handle on her liquor: Marci. 

The knock on her door is quiet, but rhythmic, something she’s done plenty of times before. Three quick knocks, followed by two, followed by three. A pause. She eventually peeks in, a smile already tugging at her features, both greeting and playful. 

“How you feelin’? Can I come in?”

[malachileclair]

DATE & TIME: January 18TH, 7:30AM LOCATION: Marcella’s Sleeper Car TAG: @vindictagloria

The sleeper is a quiet place, where there's only the hint of sun in the window, but still the room is far brighter than it was a moment ago, to leave Malachi sitting at the edge of a bed, slept fine, but that doesn't mean anything for waking up early, nor the pounding from somewhere deep within his skull he swallows back, as if he would try to tell hangovers to save themselves for another time if he could.

The woman behind him stirs after him and he turns to meet the movement, turning to meet knotted hair and the look of the same dull pain he felt too. However, the more concerning part he perhaps should have blinked at is the blood on a cheekbone, he reaches out while still keeping his back straight to wipe it away with the tip of his thumb. 

"Should we leave it up to mystery who this belongs to, or belonged?" A quirked eyebrow, the way a smile can be there and not all at once, hinted with humor. He can know, but also blurry memories can say he shouldn't assume.

(We'll call what they have a pretending, for what, to be left for the silence. For the idea that they have what they want. What's real - we'll leave up to silence.)

[anoracle]

DATE &TIME: January 2ND, 11:10AM LOCATION: Dining Tent TAG: @vindictagloria

It was purposeful, Emme's spot at the back end of the crowd filtered into the Dining Tent, where she can see what's happening without the feeling of eyes on the back of her head even if no one is watching her. Her hands fold into tiny squares a muffin wrapper to get her fingers busy in the silence of a funeral in the morning. The warm hues the tent is decorated in don't fit the atmosphere, too created, too forced, the flowers only leaving a sickly sweet scent that gives to the tension that people don't speak of. It doesn’t help that when Metzger takes his stand in front of them, his grand gestures feel as another decoration even as she tries to focus on anything else. Wondering if even knows what he’s helping to fuel.

The speech is something else that’s more decoration than speech, an attempt to show power, an attempt to rewrite a person, claim ownership over a story, all the while being ridiculous in the same sense, and having a place in the back of the room suddenly becomes a better idea than it started out to be with the face she makes, the way her lips purse and eyebrows raise.  

It's then that she finally glances up, and naturally toward the slightly taller woman beside her to see if she's hearing any of this correctly, or agreement that she had the right thinking about what just came out into the speeches. (Maybe things like this bring community to women who don't understand each other, or never had the chance to.)