idk if anyone’s even still lurking here, but if you are, my discord is mangojuice#0009 if any of you loves want to add me on there to stay in touch until the revamp happens! ( feel free to send me a message and i’ll add you!)

addiscnarcher‌:

Snapchat : Open

uosıppɐ: probably the best gift my brother has ever given me

uosıppɐ: bob ross  t-shirt

uosıppɐ: expect this to be making a usual appearance from now on

archer: thats a sick tshirt 

archer: i just have band tshirts that nobody can read because they’re so worn out

archer: are you going to start painting happy little trees from now on?

stxrryems‌:

his words caught emma off guard, flushed cheeks an inconsequential side-effect of his words. “i mean - you couldn’t have planned last night ending up how it did,” she stammered. “unless you’ve got psychic abilities. or some really intuitive secretary that sees that we’re booked at the same event and blocks off your schedule in the event of a hazard.” hearing archer talk of last night had her thoughts spinning again, all rational judgement put on hold for a brief intermission of recklessness. “shit…speaking of that dress,” she murmured, dragging a hand along the floor in search of the garment. “you know what? fuck it. it doesn’t matter.” emma didn’t often swear, reserving her curse words for spontaneous occasions. it was then that she sat up to face him, pressing her lips to his in a moment of rare initiative before she resigned herself to the space beside him once more.

“no continental breakfast? looks like i should get going then. you know, now that you’re a big superstar my primary motivation in…uhm…staying over was to be served fancy food.” if she could she would tell him that the human contact was far better. it was a messy reminder of a simpler time. but, afraid, she resigned herself to jokes. “you’re right. you’re just so grungy. last night and this morning have been a testament to the accuracy of your no-fucks, punk rock, bad boy image,” she couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of her remarks, always one to challenge his public perception. “that’s brilliant, actually. we can both adopt monikers and take advantage of modern technology. if we do it right we’ll successfully avoid every prying eye that wants to know where we went after that dreadful third speech on the revival of shoegaze.” she paused for a moment, shutting her eyes to muster the courage to say her next words. “and just so you’re aware. the afterparty was by far the best part of my night. maybe my week.” or month.

his smile widens as she speaks, teeth catching on his bottom lip. “ah yes, you caught me now, my all-knowing personal secretary who specifically schedules my nightly rendezvous. and every press event where you’re there is an occupational hazard to me,” he teases lightly, “did you at least get some shots of me and my specifically curated outfit last night or were you too distracted?” this was comfortable banter between them and he knew she’d never take him too seriously. 

“i think it’s in the-” his words are cut short by her leaning in to kiss him, a rare move from her, especially in the daylight setting, and he’s definitely not complaining about this either. “i guess this is a bad time to tell you my personal chef’s on holidays then?” he laughs softly, then adapting a more genuine tone, glancing over at her, “if you don’t have anywhere to be, i’d-” he stops himself, knowing that he can’t say ‘love to’ because that’s so obviously something reserved for pairs who are current partners “i’d like it if you stayed awhile, makes this bigass place seem less overwhelming and i at least can’t burn coffee” 

 in any other form of mixed media, art or music, archer excelled, top of his game. when it came to cooking anything requiring a stove-top? it was just about anybody’s guess how he could literally burn something as simple as toast. 

“god that speech was really terrible wasn’t it? why did we need to dedicate a full hour to that? whoever saw us slip out honestly wished they would’ve thought of the idea first,” he laughs under his breath. at her words, he’s biting his lip again and it shouldn’t feel like this, that was the purpose of no strings attached , but it does and he doesn’t know what to do with himself. so he tilts his head to capture her lips against his.

“i would have to agree with that, even the promise of free drinks and appetizers at some gaudy venue wouldn’t get me to budge from our personal afterparty. but that’s quite the complement- if you keep feeding my ego like that, ’dunno what i’ll do.” 

hey my dudes, this is just a small unformatted post to say i’m definitely still here to continue on my threads/starters/whatever even though the group’s closing temporarily. 

so if you’re still here and want to plot/ask for a starter/anything, feel free to message me!

xo

-peach

stxrryems‌:

a coy hand remained pressed to emma’s face, some bashful part of her still afraid to meet his eye-line. archer deserved credit, though. he was one of her few exes (and the only that she found herself repeatedly in bed with). there was still a comfort there…and she relished in the familiar feelings amidst a los angeles life that felt so unlike ‘her own’. “now that’s what i like to hear,” she mused boldly, liquid courage still running from the night before. “but please know you can terminate my temporary residence any time if you’ve got - you know, girls coming over or band practice or a meeting with the leader of the free world.” the last activity was an overstatement, but the sentiment still remained. “stop flattering me or i’ll end up stammering all morning long.” one shoulder kiss and there she was again, fighting the urge to say do that again with her whole chest. she once heard that setting boundaries was crucial to any break-up, but what about a hook-up or seven could be so bad? 

“i underestimated how greatly success would change your sleeping arrangements. you’ve lost your edge…your grunge. i feel like i’m in a freakin’ hilton,” she joked, light laughter parting pursed lips. emma turned his direction, head inching against his chest as she was not yet ready to prop herself out of a sea of linens. “they gave me today off. it’s like they had some sort of premonition. maybe they knew i’d end up here. god, i hope not. i really don’t like to imagine christopher having any insight into my sex life.”

a laugh catches in the back of his throat at her words. sure, he wasn’t the most committal person in la, but he wasn’t about to throw her out of his bed, especially while he was enjoying the company so much. “what? you think i double booked myself or something like that?” he counters underneath his breath, his tone harmless and more playful than anything. he raises a brow, at her request but still reaches out to ghost his fingers along her collarbone anyways, “well, i sure didn’t see you complaining when i was complementing on how good you looked in that dress last night,” he’s pushing his luck here, no doubt, blurring the lines between what it meant to be exes and what it meant to be something else, but his romantic life in general was akin to a dumpster fire that he just never bothered to attend to. 

“sorry to disappoint you, but there’s no free continental breakfast here at the calloway residence,” he added with a laugh, looking down at her, and with a small movement, moving strands of hair out of her face, lingering near her cheek for less than a second. he’s always been a person of touch, a connection to whoever he’s with. “and hey, i still think i’m grunge, or at least the magazines say i am. are you boldly assuming i’ve gone soft on you now?” he quipped with a trace of a smirk on bold features. “i swear, if i go in to record this week, and people start asking me about how the afterparty was, at the starbucks, i’ll start ordering online and under a code-name,” he’s grinning at his own stupid joke, “if christopher knew anything about what i do outside of cadence, he’d probably be uninterested at best, since i’m not the newest late night tv host’s guest each week,” he snorts, stretching his neck to the side. at this point, the amount of a following archer and his band had was just uncomfortable enough that he over-analyzed his social media posts and would have to wear a hoodie while out jogging, but at the same time he wasn’t just the kid who’s band sung on instagram anymore. 

stxrryems‌:

𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐬: 𝒆𝒎𝒎𝒂 + 𝒂𝒓𝒄𝒉𝒆𝒓

cuckoos chimed in soft song, blasting mellow tunes as emma creeped out of bed to open a window. her and archer had been broken up for a while now, the remnants of any label left in the dive bar where they both got their start. but she was notably bad at refraining from rekindling the physical aspect of their relationship, and after one (or five) flutes of champagne at an industry event the night before you better bet she got a bit nostalgic. “arch,” she whispered, slipping back into his bed. “you don’t have promo to do today, do you? i’m convinced that if i keep you from something cadence-related we’ll both have an apparition of paul johnson telling us off. he’s scarier than the paps sometimes, i swear.” worrying is a girlfriend activity, not a hook-up activity. snap out of it, emma. “i’m going to stop talking now,” she sighed, reaching a cautious hand around to to stroke his hand - light of his fingers touches coming out of a place of bravery before she became skiddish and they ceased entirely, again. “to be honest, staying here seems more inviting than facing the day.”

( @rainymcrnings​ )

archer sweeps a hand over exhausted eyes. he’d been working himself to the brink these past fews days, so the excuse to dress up in a button down and tie, actually make his hair look intentionally styled for once, and to make small talk with potential exec’s, was a very welcome distraction. not even mentioning how he ended up taking his ex girlfriend home, yet again. if he said he didn’t still feel things for her, he’d be flat-out lying, but if he wanted anything more than just this? the magic eight ball of his mind still says ‘foggy, ask again later’. he hums softly, almost unconsciously snaking his arm around her when she was next to him again. “nah, i think we have to do a interview circuit in a few weeks, but for now, i’m free.” he had to think about it for a moment, being probably one of the most unorganized artists’ at cadence, his schedule really was a blur sometimes. “hey, i like it when you ramble though, ‘keeps me awake,” and he’s laughing under his breath, leaning to press a soft kiss to her shoulder. “i agree, this bed is dangerously comfortable.” he settled back against the headboard, turning to look at her, “are you off today or do you have to go out and be an adult?”

bcnvivant‌:

𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐘: lsn….do you ever look back at your life & the decisions you’ve made & just….shake your head ??

𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐘: like how can i be so damn dumb ? it’s a lil embarrassing at this point. when will my stupid bitch juice run out ?

𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐘: any way, i’m thinking about getting “ hot girl summer ” tatted on my ass. what are your weekend plans ?

archer: do you mean : me every single time i leave my house 

archer: b/c same  

archer: nah, you gotta make it a neck tat to show people ur a bad bitch

archer: no ragrets and all that right 

archer: i’m being tortured with a promo brunch and then probably going to take kahlua to the beach or sum

𝒔𝒏𝒂𝒑𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒕 → O P E N

𝚌𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚏𝚘𝚛 @bicncas​

this was definitely weird, or at least Archer kept telling himself that on the way to Bianca’s. they haven’t been together in over a year, and a lot has happened since then. he released a new album, put through an offer on a house (which was somehow accepted by god knows how), and he realized far too quickly that her life was different too now. 

and now, he was going to pick up various clothing items of his (which she used to wear), from her house. but he tried his best not to think about that former part. 

he’d been actively avoiding her at cadence, just for the purpose of trying to avoid awkward conversations or snarky comments. he was never one for fighting, his entire vibe exudes that he’s a non-violent person who would much favor conflict de-escalation than yelling profanities that he would obviously regret the next day. 

he scuffs his left sneaker on the pavement outside of her apartment number, sandwiching his phone between his ear, while he dials her number. 

“hey, uh, i’m outside your place right now, do you wanna let me in? and,” a pause, and shuffling and the slight sound of a paper bag crinkling in the background “i brought coffees and donuts as a peace offering.”

.ooc!

finally drew up a wanted plots/connections page on my blog so please check it out if I haven’t plotted with you yet or if you seen anything you like message me! it’s still under con but there’s a lot more open wcs there!