emma phillips;

It's really a wonder that I haven't dropped all my ideals, because they seem so absurd and impossible to carry out. Yet I keep them, because in spite of everything, I still believe that people are really good at heart.     —    Anne Frank

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ᴍɪᴄᴋᴇʏ.

Before chaos had ensued, they’d been best friends, and closer than most who’d gone on to be couples. And before disaster had struck: living with Emma Phillips had been one of the few silver linings of his life. He hadn’t expected rejection, though he hadn’t been sure what to predict out of the younger either. Regardless, her words bring on an amused beaming nature.  ❛  I can’t make ANY promises, Phillips. But I’ll try to keep theatrics to myself. Try being the keyword here. I dunno if you know this, but– I can be a bit of a DRAMA QUEEN. Dirty dishes in the sink? They might as well get broken. Parents didn’t almost, not really, name me Oscar for nothing. Just– one of the MANY things I deserve.  ❜  The sentence is brought to an end with a shake of his head, expression softening.  ❛  I owe you one.  ❜  

The grin spreading across pink lips flashed white teeth at the sound of his earlier words, but they closed again as he continued and his expression became more SERIOUS, the indents of dimples in her cheeks going slack once again. It felt strange for her to be making preparations to reunite with someone in a more permanent fashion that she’d never expected to be torn apart from in the first place — and someone she hadn’t predicted to be living with again once the constant back & forth of a tumultuous relationship had finally ceased to be as … dramatic. “ You don’t, Mickey. You’re helping ME —— even if you weren’t? It’s what friends do. ” She paused, smile inching back into her expression after reassurances had passed. “Besides, you gave me the BRAND-NEW opportunity to make fun of you with almost kind-of not actually being named Oscar Talbot. I’d actually have to be nice to you if you were serious. ”

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ᴍᴀʀᴋ.

      The brief, fleeting moment of casual RELUCTANCE is replaced with something more explicitly GUADED. He regrets having asked, but then again, conversations floating in LIMBO would eventually fade into NOTHINGNESS. They weren’t the ones he was AFTER, even if they did feel NICE. “ That’s all I ask. ” He says softly. Expecting NOTHING still roused HOPE in him, a trait he sometimes felt he’d be better off WITHOUT, seemingly overshadowing the place of REALITY. “ Well I talked to Molly. We didn’t make any PLANS or anything, but I think she might be INTERESTED. I don’t know how you two are doing, but, it’d be NICE with the TWO of you. ”

And as soon as any willingness to consider compromise found itself cracking the disinterest in a relationship with her father that seemed to be sinking perpetually in her stomach, it solidified itself instead, and she could feel the burning heat of annoyance flushing her cheeks. “ She doesn’t want to be anywhere near me. ” It wasn’t fair of Emma to take out any decisions her mother had made in telling Molly when or where or IF her older sister held  a n y  blame in their father’s absence on her father himself — but it all traced back to him. If he hadn’t left, she wouldn’t have been a pariah in her own family, she would HAVE a family to speak of. But he was selfish, and she never got the chance to be because of it. She never got to throw temper tantrums over chores, because if she didn’t do them, the house would go to ruin. She never got to skip school to hang out with her friends — days she couldn’t go were spent taking care of sick siblings or mother. She didn’t get the immaturity she was supposed to have as a child, stunted in maintaining childlike wonder as an adult, but still living with the weight of the world that had been breaking her back since before she was teenaged. It was all wrong —— her entire life off kilter, imbalanced and setting her up for failure. “ So have a relationship with her instead, okay, da --- Mark? She doesn’t deserve to not have a dad anymore. But it’s your fault you can’t have two daughters, not me being stubborn. ” 

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ᴏᴅᴇᴛᴛᴇ.

          Odette finally brings herself to face the other, though features remain untouched by any indication of emotion. Second thought, confusion was certain to penetrate a faux stoicism. ❛  So?  ❜  The brunette begins, defined brows knitting together.  ❛  Who cares? It’s just a wedding.  ❜  Despite Odette whole-heartedly backing up her own statement, the thought of originality does cross her mind. She refused the idea of being average. What was next– white picket fence & quitting her job? No. She might not be much, but she wasn’t one to blend in with a crowd, least of all one found in Sheffield.   ❛  How’s ‘ Ask Nic ’ for all of the above?  ❜  

A sigh escapes the other, but it’s one more of self-admitted defeat than one of exasperation — she knew from the START that Odette would not be as emotionally invested in color schemes & seating arrangements as Emma herself would have been —– and not for sake of trying. Now, however, one attempt DENIED, she went back to the more obvious plan of letting things fall into plan without grilling the older.  “ All that stuff is IMPORTANT when you’re planning something like … a wedding. " A beat. " Even a small one! "  Good save. “ But you’re the captain. I am merely a passenger with a little more of a job than other passengers on the S.S. Alvarez-Talbot wedding. So … no more planning. " Instead of bringing up more arrangements and plans that Odette would surely roll her eyes at, the brunette resigns herself to moving backward to hop up on the counter nearest her, clearly settling in for conversation. “ What’s Ava think? ”

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PHILLIPS, MARK.

     He nods, a smile tugging softly at the corners of his lips. It’s almost SULLEN with the mention of high school. After all, asking about the four years of her high school experience that he had MISSED was a direct VIOLATION of the confines of SMALL TALK. The nauseating pit in his stomach makes it’s presence known, the GUTTURAL guilt a firm reminder of why he had to RETURN. Though he lets the cogs of his imagination turn, the vision of a young Emma Phillips FAKING a fever. The cost of pursuing an imagined FUTURE was the cementing of forever having to imagine the ABANDONED past. “ Dumb but FUN. ” He admits, his smile broadening HESITANTLY. “ This town, I mean that’s the real GEM. So much to explore I wouldn’t know where to START. As for the apartment, it’s coming along. Starting to look like a real HOME. You should come over sometime … My door’s always OPEN.” He finishes, he doesn’t mean to be BOTHERSOME, but if he doesn’t ask, he knows she’ll never OFFER.

The tension between them was LOPSIDED, veering between a normal conversation and a terse exchange of words syllable by syllable ---- though her expression would have lead an outsider to believe it was the most painful conversation she’d ever endured. And while THAT was certainly an exaggeration, it was worse than the prior explosions of emotion she’d doled out in speaking to him: she couldn’t make a scene, she couldn’t be CHILDISH. That was only excused in the scenario of shock. Now, it was time to be the bigger person. ❛ I’ll ... think about dropping by. ❜ A pause, an excuse already halfway out of her mouth. ❛ Yeah. Think. Sheffield doesn’t have the MULTITUDE you think it does, but if I ever find myself out and about ... ❜ She trailed off, nothing else to say, but refusing to give a finality to the statement and set an empty promise in stone. ❛ But ... I wouldn’t count on a visit. That usually ends up with ... DISAPPOINTMENT. Especially with family. ❜

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MARGOLIT, SLOANE.

      ❛❛ references are simply unoriginal. like.. do you not have a brain? do you simply think in references & thus suffer from a lack of originality, creativity? i am seriously like… worried about you. you should seek medical attention. ❜❜ her expression is blank; features similar to that of slenderman. there’s no problem to be had with emma, but this wasn’t sloane acting as though she had a problem with the girl. more so what she said, & the way in which her brain worked. 

Her expression was half confused, half hurt --- not appreciating it was one thing, and she could take joking jabs, but MEDICAL ATTENTION seemed a bit ... unnecessary. Quickly, however, she bounced back, smiling at Sloane and taking any sentiments of unoriginality in stride as best she could. ❛ So, uh, no Smashing Pumpkins. I take it you’re not a MUSIC person? What about ... movies? We could talk Karate Kid. Throw some Dirty Dancing in there, maybe a little Back to the Future. Still not ... up to any creative standards, but ... c’mon! It’s Dirty Dancing. Nobody puts baby in a corner! ❜

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TALBOT, MICKEY.

         Of course, he felt GUILTY; blame already been put on Mikhail Talbot by himself. Though he never quite refrained from speaking his emotions, he decided to allow the younger to express her lack of NEED for his help. Even if it could be argued otherwise. So, that’s what he chose to do. Personal feelings put aside, Mickey argued otherwise; hands shoved in jean pockets, awkwardly swaying back & forth.  ❛  You got a TEACHER’S SALARY, Ems– and roommates? They’re pretty, pretty hard to come by. I mean, took you long enough to SCORE with me, – no pun intended. Face it, Phillips… You need me. And my hard-earned, shitty, NURSE’S SALARY. Together we almost make a decent living. Too bad we never got hitched, could’ve REALLY used those tax benefits.  ❜  

❛ WELL, we can add our lack of official union to the list of relationship mistakes. If we remember more, you know --- we’re close to breaking one hundred. ❜ She deflected the original proposal ( no pun intended ) of sharing a living space once again, pausing in her speech to give it thought. She definitely needed someone else to contribute, the two bedroom feeling far too much like home to ever exchange it for a smaller living space on her own. ❛ If this time around, we can keep any dramatics to a dull roar --- I wouldn’t mind coming home to Sheffield’s own Mickey Talbot again. ❜ She was no stranger to showcasing appreciation for those close to her, but with the older, attempted humour had always landed them in a better place than sentiment. ❛ Though, I gotta say --- if this is a plot to have me move boxes for you, you better be in it for the long con. ❜ 

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 TALBOT, ROBERT.

robert snorted ━ actually snorted ━ when he chuckled. he knew she was right ━ ever since melinda’s death, he’d been a horrible father. drinking, drugs, abuse; robert was SHIT at this whole “dad” thing. he wasn’t about to let her in on that little secret, however ━ he didn’t care enough about what she had to say, or how she felt about mickey, to tell her anything. even if the guilt tore him up inside.

❛ do you actually think i care if you’re afraid of me or not, emma ?? you don’t have to be afraid of me. i still know how to hurt you, ❜ he threatened. his mouth spread into a malicious grin ━ one that most likely looked unsettling and horrifying. ❛ mikhail doesn’t need my kindness, sweetheart ━ he needs an example. ❜

There was a time where nervousness had ruled her -- she was still at the tail end of it, the contorting & twisting her stomach making her feel USELESS, but there was anger bubbling under the surface: positivity had corroded her logic for years, chipping away at her ability to defend herself. She wanted to take control of her life --- she was TIRED of living on optimistic whims. She was tired of being pushed down and tired of allowing herself to be kicked once she was down. She was so fucking tired. Maybe the newfound confidence, the newfound motivation to become an advocate for her own wellbeing wasn’t uncharacteristic: but instead finally coming to light. ❛ HURT ME? You can’t hurt me. I’m a grown woman, and I’m not going to let you push me around like I’m a kid! You’re a bully, and an ... asshole, and a piece of shit, and you can’t TOUCH me or make me afraid of you ----- the only thing you’re an example of is who to avoid --- so stop talking to me, because I don’t even know why you BOTHER anymore, stop attempting to harass me because I am SICK of it, and leave me ALONE. ❜ She paused, the shock of the increasing annoyance and decreasing nerves lacing her speech almost halting her. Almost.  ❛ Don’t talk to me again. ❜

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take those you godawful gremlins , the remaining replies ( only 9 , im a loser ig ) will be posted tomorrow because i’m a good citizen , i promise im not excluding anyone on purpose except for nico 

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⊳ Robin.

@emmqs

    “   okay,  emma,  i’m going to need you to be a hundred percent honest with me.  if i ever,  hypothetically speaking,  ended up in jail,  would you be willing to bail me out   ?   ”

❛  HYPOTHETICALLY? I’d be at the station in five. Though ... reality-...ly ----- realistically ---- this? Isn’t hypothetical. I KNOW YOU! So ... there’s some rules in play here. It depends on the plan. No grand theft auto or murder, ‘cause I don’t have enough to put up a bazillion dollar bond. Egging the house of a particular perv named Marty Gilford --- THAT’S vandalism I can get behind ---- I’m your girl, Kinney, if you ever find yourself behind bars. Tears make me an EXCELLENT lawyer. ❜

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⊳ Mark.

       The interaction already proves TIRING, and GUILT quickly settles upon him for not reeling in her very PRESENCE. After all, his gratefulness should be infinitely PRESENT, her donning of a hesitant permission for him to be a shadowing FIGURE in her life should never be taken for granted. Yet, her words are STUNTED, and he wish HE weren’t the cause. He won’t embrace EXHAUSTION, because he knows this can’t be the extent of their relationship. He wouldn’t be able to HANDLE it if it were. So, his carefully CULTIVATED patience is tested, and slivers of GRATITUDE are focused upon. “ Good. I’m GLAD. ” His voice is SINCERE, even if he can’t bring himself to smile in the midst of awkwardness and disconnected glances. He repositions the handle of the basket on his arms, if only to reflect Emma’s own feigned DISINTEREST even if he was far from INDIFFERENCE. It was one trait that he struggled to ACT, micro-mannerisms always deceiving of his passion for EVERYTHING that he was SUBJECTED to. It’s why his gaze never strays, but perhaps that’s because the effect of being back in his daughter’s life has yet to WEAR. “ Yeah, it’s GOOD. Had my class choose a monologue to perform for their midterm. I kind of had SHAKESPEARE or HOMER in mind, but so far I’ve gotten a stellar YODA impression, and that monologue in Reservoir Dogs. You know the one ? About not TIPPING ? Who’s the … Steve Buscemi. YEAH, anyways. S’pose I should’ve SPECIFIED, huh ? ” 

❛  It’s ... high school, ❜ She consoled him stiffly and dryly, though not with SARCASM, hoping the statement of the obvious was a enough of a substantial response. However, NERVES got the better of her, eating away at her. She felt guilty for not running back to her father with open arms, as she had always promised herself she would. It was much easier to be kind to people when they hadn’t hurt you --- the revelation was common sense, but one she’d ignored for as long as possible: respect was a two way street, and Emma plowing down negativity wasn’t going to get her anywhere but a dead end. ❛  Kids’ll do that. I probably would have done something dumb too. Ferris Bueller’s opening scene, maybe. ❜ She wants add a biting retort --- acting was about transforming yourself, and SHE’D never gotten to pull teenage hijinks by staying home because SOMEBODY ELSE was the real child. She resigns instead to leaving it at a fondness of the movie. she swallows hard and fiddles with the cellophane peeking over the edge of the cart from whatever groceries were left before speaking again. ❛ Settling in? ❜

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⊳ Jack.

      “ I usually jog in the AFTERNOON, because morning shifts and all. It depends how MOTIVATED I’m feeling, but usually no more than an HOUR. Unfortunately, it’s starting to get a little too CHILLY to jog outside, but I’d say we’ve got a SOLID couple weeks left ! From M.A.S.H ? You’ve never seen it ? ”

❛ MASH is the game you play with the ... numbers and the things you write down for your future when you’re in elementary school. You know --- Mansion, apartment, shack, house? Between our different definitions and your tolerance of jogging in the AFTERNOON -- when people can SEE you ... the similarities are fading, Detler. Don’t tell me you think tomatoes are a fruit, too.  ❜

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⊳ Sloane.

@emmqs

❛❛ this doesn’t seem like the time for polka dot renditions of smashing pumpkins songs. ❜❜

❛ What? You’re not a fan of ‘ 1979 ’? I might NOT sound just like BILLY CORGAN, but ... --- the reference was right there. The blame isn’t even on me once that year is mentioned. Like ... if someone says  ‘all through the night ’, you’re obligated to start singing Boyz II Men. ❜ A smile fell onto her lips and it soon became a beaming grin until it faltered with her exaggeration, feigning seriousness in a rather OBVIOUS manner. 

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⊳ Mickey.

@emmqs !!

         He’d been putting off finding a place of his own, allowing months to pass before even acknowledging the issue that was his lack of residence. Liza wasn’t exactly complaining about his constant presence, but as weeks go by it becomes more & more clear that someone else might. Taking his lunch break to pass by the preschool, Mickey hovers outside until he spots a familiar face.  ❛  Emma, hey!  ❜  Doing a quick jog towards the other, a smile is kept on the older’s face. Hands shoved in pockets to shield them from October air, he begins the conversation as anyone would.  ❛  Hey, so I’ve been meaning to ask you– do you… do you need any help? With bills, I mean. And paying them.  ❜  Exactly like anyone would.

A smile presents itself on her face as he makes his way up towards her, and she acknowledges his presence, though the majority of her attention is still focused on the children as they make their way out to the sidewalk to open arms from parents. As he spoke, however, she turned to face him, face lost in thought for a moment before answering: ❛ I’ve been doing extra stuff around for Bill so that he’s okay if I’m late on rent by a week or two, but ... it’s better than getting kicked to the curb with only my harmonica and good looks to pay my way. I’d still sell my soul to not have to change his cat’s litterbox and water his plants, but --- it is what it is. But, uh ... --- probably better off giving any money somewhere other than your ex-girlfriend’s water bill. Ethics and morals and me feeling bad and the whole SHEBANG. I can find a roommate. Maybe. ❜ She sighs after that; she misses him even more than she misses the general feeling of not coming home to an empty apartment. However, her heart stops for a second and she clears her throat, hard, when she realises how her statement could have sounded. ❛ No blame intended. PROMISE. ❜

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⊳ Robert.

He’d never liked her ━ considered her trashy. It was possible there was a bit of racism tied in there as well ━ he’d never been incredibly tolerable, although he’d never say things like that in public. As he watched her turn towards him, a bitter smirk played faintly across his lips. He’d bullied her enough times to know she was afraid of him ━ though she was getting better at the front, he had to give her that. Robert had his own form of morals ━ though he usually ignored them for things like drugs, alcohol and bullying. And with the exception of Emma, he only ever bullied Mickey ━ he had an image to protect, of course. He was supposed to be reformed.

❝ Hm, I suppose by your math you’re right. Still, we both know he deserves better than the likes of you. ❞ He sneered, menacing. This was a conversation he’d been dying to have ━ he wanted to know all their issues so he could use them against his son in the future. And to remind Emma that she’d never be worth Mikhail’s time and effort ━ that if Robert was the lowest, she was even lower.

Her silence was the greatest measure of her annoyance, leaving a few moments that felt like hours to settle between them as she gritted her teeth; nails making the indents in her palms even redder as she searched for some sort of composure. At her core, Emma wasn’t an angry person: she’d had her fair share of yelling matches and altercations, but all of them were at points where she didn’t exactly feel herself: paranoia running rampant, or the sickly anxiety of being a fish out of water. But now, she struggled to keep lividity under wraps. Instead, she breathed in slowly ---- trying to avoid any shakiness from edging its way in and giving the impression of emotion. ❛  I’m not afraid of you, you know ----- I couldn’t care LESS what you think about me, because I know for a fact that I’m kinder to him than you have ever been. YOU DON’T SCARE ME. ❜

[aprilkepners-archive]

Female Awesome Meme (9/10) LGBT+ Ladies: Kat Edison. “I guess I’ll just have to show them a woman defying them.”

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ROBERT !

@emmqs

❝ You know, I’ve never cared much for you. I’ve always thought Mikhail could do better. ❞

The sound of a familiar voice felt less like a stab or a shock, and more like a queasiness that settled over her. She knew who it was immediately, but she still took her time pursing her lips and turning around as  s l o w l y  as she could --- she had to brace herself for standing up to him: she knew MORALS were in a different ballpark for him, and only on her side of the equation. She didn’t know WHY he was here --- when he’d made his unwelcome debut in Sheffield once again, but she still quelled a shaky voice by digging fingernails into palms, making the sentence after sound as smooth as possible.  ❛  I guess with a father like you one’d learn to settle.  ❜

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JACK !

     “ We should start. JOGGING, together. It could be fun ! Having someone to MOTIVATE me might make me not start WALKING halfway through. I’m not entirely sure if LEONARDO is a realistic life model. Our lifestyles are too DIFFERENT, I need someone like … HAWKEYE PIERCE, he’s real COOL, plus he’s like a DOCTOR. And doesn’t have a YACHT. ”

❛ I’m ... not really the jogging type, but I’m willing to give it a shot. IF it doesn’t involve waking up extra early, because I already do that and ----- I don’t think I could stomach an extra hour. Or two. ------ How long do you even JOG for? Whatever, I bet Hawkeye Pierce doesn’t jog. Even though I don’t know who that is.  ❜