Emmett Ashford

"He’s the kind of boy who hoards the stars in his mouth to give you a taste of heaven,even if it scorches his tongue."

[emmett-ashford]

jenbrookhart‌:

Location: Fox Party Date: Friday, March 29 Time: Late Night (open)

When Wmyack told them all to enjoy the night, Jen took it to heart. While the Foxes didn’t win, they’re acting like they did, and Jen is reveling in it. That’s part of being a Vixen, just kind of going with the mood of the team they cheer for. They’re grateful there’s a party tonight, because it’s always a little disappointing when they spend their away games in their hotel rooms, especially in a cool city like Chicago. 

The night is kind of a blur, but Jen knows they spent the majority of it dancing between celebratory shots. Now their skin is tacky with sweat, and their makeup is smeared underneath their eyes, but they’re the kind of drunk where everything is too fun to worry about little things like that. At some point, someone must’ve ordered a pizza, because now Jen has a slice of Chicago pizza in each hand, one for themself and one to pass on to anyone who may need it. 

They weave through the crowd, shaking their hips to the beat as they navigate their way around the room until they bump into someone. “Pizza delivery!” Jen exclaims as they hold up the slice they haven’t bitten into yet. “It’s important to soak up the alcohol, and I hear it’s against the law to go to Chicago without eating pizza so…” Jen ungracefully shoves the slice in their direction, a too big smile on their flushed face. 

Emmett is drunk. He’s beyond drunk really. It certainly doesn’t help that he’s a mess of emotions about the evening either. He’s upset that they lost, he wanted to win. He always wants to win. But he’s ecstatic that they’ve managed to make it into the final stages of the season. That they’re just inches from winning. It’s like one minute he’s upset and the next minute he’s over the moon. The alcohol makes it easier to deal with, he’s blissfully warm and dancing. There’s plenty of attractive faces to dance next to. Some he knows. Most he doesn’t. He’s slipping off the dance floor for another drink when Jen walks up to him, pizza in hand.

He’s not about to say no to free food and he takes it from them, taking a huge bite out of it before speaking. “I like following the letter of the law...and pizza is pizza. Although I gotta say I’ve definitely had better.” He smirks and takes another bite. “But the last thing I want this pizza to do is soak up the alcohol. I’m going to get more. Come with me.” He wastes not time in shoving the last of his slice into his face and looping his arm around Jen’s shoulders, dragging them towards the bar. “I’ll buy. Whatever you want. Nothing top shelf. That shit is expensive and never worth it.”

[emmett-ashford]

itsoliviafinch‌:

For a moment she focused on her breathing, deep inhales, slow exhales as she began finding the constellations like it was second nature at this point. It helped her ground herself even more before she raised a brow and glanced over as he began to pat himself down, in obvious search of the phone he was talking about. As Emmett continued to speak, she leaned back on her palms, rolling her shoulders back before nodding slowly, “Well, if you want, I can go look for it too tomorrow…ya know, if you don’t feel up to it.” it’s clear to her that he is highly intoxicated, a part of her even wondered if he would remember this conversation come tomorrow. When her father got inebriated, which was more often than not, he forgot a large chunk of their conversations. Or maybe he just said he didn’t so he wouldn’t have to own up to the damage he was doing to his only daughter, but she didn’t know if she wanted a true answer. For now, she’d keep Emmett company. He’s nice, and always kind, probably one of the only people in her life who even paid her any attention beyond Exy talent. 

As he scoots closer, she freezes for a moment out of reflex, out of fear almost until she takes a deep breath and exhaled it into the night sky. It was Emmett. Not a Penn State Lion, not her father. And it gave her peace of mind, even if he had the smell of alcohol lingering into the wind that blew past her. His question snaps her back into reality, and she nodded slowly, “Yeah…I was.” She admitted, shrugging her shoulders as she rolled her head to the side to glance over to him in the moonlight, noticing the way he carried himself, the way his words were almost distant and she sighed as she nodded, “I know you are…but I’m not going anywhere until you’re back in your room where it’s safe. So, until you are able to get back on your feet…it’s just you and me and the stars.” She offers with a tiny smile, closing her eyes for a moment as she took in the night air. 

“No! No. I-I mean...You don’t need to do that. It’s kind of a seedy bar and I don’t want you going there alone. Or with me...or like...ever. Yeah. Ever.” He nods emphatically against the grass, slapping his hand on the ground to emphasize his point. That’s the last place he wants Olivia to be. For numerous reasons. Mostly because he knows about her history...and knows that that bar is probably the last place Olivia would feel comfortable in. And all Emmett wants for Olivia is for her to be comfortable. Besides. He’ll either go back when he’s sober or pick it up when he goes back the next night. It’s not the first time he’s left his phone behind. There's nothing interesting on it anyways. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll get it later. It’s not like anyone will be desperate to contact me.” He shrugs.

“I’m pretty sure campus is one of the safest places in this town. Hence why I’m laying here instead of...the park.” He pauses. “Does Palmetto have a park? I don’t...I don’t spend a lot of time in Palmetto. Thinking about it...If I don’t know about a park...where would...” He shakes his head. There’s a better rabbit hole to spiral down and honestly...park or no park he’d have ended up on campus eventually, right? He sighs. “I don’t think I”ll be moving for a while. And you don’t have to stay out here freezing with me.” He pauses, sighing again. “But...I think I’d like it if you stuck around. Being alone...means being in my head. And being in my head is...like...well, being in my head.”

[emmett-ashford]

claudiajewellx‌:

Emmett being drunk didn’t take Claudia by surprise. She could smell the alcohol wafting off of him and it set her nerves on edge just the slightest bit. She didn’t drink, too afraid of the person she might become once she had booze in her system. She’d tried a sip or two in high school, at a party when she was trying to be Daphne and Claudia at the same time, stuck in the weird, hazy middle ground. She’d even gone so far as to buy a beer at a pub and contemplate drinking it but never actually got the nerve up to lift the glass to her mouth. It’s silent for a moment between the two of them, not uncomfortable, as they both think on things. Claudia knows the exact reason why she doesn’t drink and she knows the exact reason Emmett is presently drunk before he even says anything. 

“I don’t blame you,” she said, quietly, arms behind her head as she looked up at the sky. It was easy to get lost looking at the stars, to allow your thoughts to wander, but tonight wouldn’t be a good night for that. “I don’t think anyone likes feeling like a loser, though. I mean, there’s a reason why I blew my arms out.” Coach would be frustrated, because that’s one of the first things she learned upon her arrival at Palmetto: she didn’t have anything to prove. Don’t do something dumb just to say you could.

Humming, eyes closed but nowhere near on the verge of sleep, she said, “I’m not gonna ask how it’s complicated, but you can tell me if you want to. I’m not Betsy and I’m kind of shit at advice but I’m a good listener.” Emmett is a little tense next to her, so she adds, “Plus, my body hurts too much to get up. Captive audience, you can talk about whatever you want. Or nothing at all.”

Hearing her say that feels a little like a load off his shoulders. He wants Grant and Claudia to like him, and knowing that she isn’t mad at him for being drunk is nice. Thank god. He sighs heavily again and closes his eyes. “I hate feeling like a loser. Like...God. What could I have done differently? Should I have gone left instead of right? How could I have stopped the fucking ball better?” The questions plague him, it’s part of why he’d gone so far down the rabbit hole tonight. It’s with a great force of will that he forces himself to stop thinking about them again. He’s still drunk. He doesn’t want to be miserable and drunk. At least, more than he already is.

“I fucking hate blowing my arms out. Cause Abby gives me this look an then Wymack gives me this speech and, God.” He groans loudly, opening his eyes to stare at the stars again. “I fucking hate when that happens. Makes me feel like a little kid again. And I don’t know about you but I am neither little nor a kid.” Not that Emmett was ever really little...or a kid. He’s not even sure if that’s how kids actually feel when they’re getting reprimanded. “You should ice them before you go to bed. It’ll help.”

Captive audience. An interesting though. But he knows his answer before he even stops to think about it. He’s not going to unload his shit onto Claudia. She’s got enough to deal with. And honestly? His shit has always kind of been his dirty little secret. The Foxes don’t know a lot about him. He likes that. He likes being the friendly Fox. The Fox with pint sized issues. He shakes his head, already digging for a change in subject. “Naw. I can work on my complicated shit on my own.” He scoffs, lapsing into silence. Thinking of nothing and everything. “You ever wonder what your life would be like if...ya know, this wasn’t your life?”

[freshmoviequotes]

The Peanut Butter Falcon (2019)

[emmett-ashford]

graysonsharpe‌:

“What are you doing sleeping on a field?” Grayson counters.  He crouches down beside Emmett, catches the strong scent of liquor on the other man’s breath. “Nevermind,” Grayson  says, making a face. “You reek. That answers my question.” 

Normally, Grayson likes to be asleep by now. He can’t read his watch in the dark, but he knows it’s long past two am. It’s not that unfamiliar a feeling. He used to be so restless—used to wander his family’s land for hours and hours long after dark, walking back and forth across the silent acres to see the stars and avoid the even more oppressive silence of his house. He sleeps more soundly these days, but apparently tonight is the exception. 

When it was obvious he wasn’t going to fall asleep anytime soon, Grayson slipped out, sneaking past Jen and out onto campus for a smoke. Finding a wasted Emmett is clearly the universe’s way of saying Grayson should’ve stayed in. 

Grayson stands though, offers Emmett a hand up. He doesn’t like Emmett, but they’re still teammates—and it doesn’t exactly look as though Emmett’s handling tonight’s loss well. “This is a one time offer,” Grayson says, because Emmett’s drunk and alone and laying on the ground outside. The whole situation seems pathetic, despite Emmett’s characteristic too broad smile.  “But do you need a cigarette? Some shitty coffee from the common room to sober up?” 

Emmett glares at Grayson’s hand like it’s a physical affront to his person for a long, long, moment. He doesn’t like Grayson. He never really has. And he’s so drunk right now that his anger is pretty much the only thing he feels when he looks at him. It’snot a good night to be Emmett. Hasn’t been since that damn buzzer sounded and the Foxes fucking lost. He growls and grabs Grayson’s hand. Perhaps a little harder than necessary, but he doesn’t care. He pulls himself up and releases Grayson’s hand almost immediately. The last thing he wants to be doing  is holding Grayson’s hand. Hell, he feels more sober than before. He hates that. He doesn’t look at Grayson when he finally talks.

“I don’t want to be sober.” He stares up at the sky, watching the stars swim just a little bit.  “I want to be drunk. I spent good money to get here. Let’s not ruin that, yeah?” He nods vigorously. “Yeah.” He pauses again, contemplating nothing and everything. The buzz is fleeting now, harder to hold on to than it had been a few moments before. He misses it already. Hates that it’s happening with Grayson of all people.

Emmett huffs as he turns around finally, crossing his arms over his chest trying to warm them up a little. “What are you even doing out here? I didn’t know you gave enough of a shit about me to stop.” He shakes his head.

[emmett-ashford]

itsoliviafinch‌:

If people thought her getting upset over how poorly she played when they won was bad, it’s twice as hard whenever they lose this game. Especially with scouts in the stand, watching her and her teammates, expectations to the roof only to come crumbling down in a loss. The locker room was quiet that night as they all just wallowed in the sting, Olivia just yanked off her uniform, threw on her sweats and beelined out of the room without a word. She never talked much to begin with, but that night, no words were able to form to get past the lump in her throat. 

Unlike other Foxes, Olivia didn’t drown herself in vices to numb the pain of the loss, instead…she only put more pain on herself. Maybe she was becoming a little bit of a masochist, but there was something about pushing and pushing until you broke that she found comfort in. Reminded her she was human and not some Exy robot, that Exy didn’t control her whole existence, even though she knew it did. No one around here really knew her, they saw a great female Exy player that was reserved and kept to herself, that was it. But that’s because that’s all she allowed them to see. 

She wasn’t sure how long she’d been running, the stitch in her side dull now as she kept going and going, trying to run away from the demon on her back taunting the loss. It wasn’t until she noticed a seemingly lifeless body that she slowed down, eyes widening as she jogged over, only to see it was Emmett. Liv was about two seconds away from panicking, already out of breath, before he opened his eyes. “Thank God…” She managed to breathe out to herself before placing her hands on her hips, feeling a little light headed now that she’d stopped moving and she plopped down on the grass now to steady herself, “…is it bad I don’t even know what time it is? Where are we right now, exactly?” She panted out, wiping her hair back from her sweat slicked forehead as she took a moment to glance to the sky, unable to hide a little smile to the stars.

Her questions come too fast. He doesn’t really take them all in, doesn’t really care to. He’s glad that the person that found him was Olivia. She’s nice. He likes her. She doesn’t say mean things to be mean. She gets things. Mostly though...he just likes her. Soft and kind. Olivia Finch. “I don’t own a phone that tells the time unless I turn it on.” Emmett admits, half shrugging his shoulders against the grass. He absently pats his pockets. Flatter than usual. His wallet, his dorm key, but no phone. Not a surprise. He loses it more often than he uses it really. “Fuck. I don’t even have my phone. Best case I left it in my room. Worst case I left it at the bar. I might be there when I go back. Probably tomorrow.” He lapses into silence, thinking. “Definitely tomorrow.” He shouldn't. He knows this. But he just...doesn’t care right now. He’s far too warm to care about much right now anyways.

He scoots over so he’s right next to Olivia now. His knees at her hip. She’s warm. It’s nice. It’s a struggle to focus in on her right now, drunk as he is, but he notices that she’s breathing pretty hard. Harder than anyone should be this time of night. “Were you running?” He can’t help but sound just a little bit skeptical. Running. After a game? She’s crazy. He laughs suddenly, the world tilting a little on it’s axis, the stars spinning wildly. “Running is for...for people less drunk than me.” He sighs heavily, full body sagging into the ground. “And I am...very, very, drunk right now.”

[emmett-ashford]

cadxmitchell‌:

At first, Cade had planned on just walking by and making sure that the other was alive. If it seemed like Emmett needed help, he’d get him over to help. But Cade soon enough found himself spinning around on his heel and going back to his car in the Fox Tower parking lot and popping opening the trunk. He searched around until he found what he needed, the blanket kept bundled up in the corner.

Cade folded it back up as he shut the trunk of the car and headed back in the direction that he’d seen Emmett, holding the other was still there and not wandering around. He wasn’t sure if the other was tired, avoiding people, drunk, or what but at the very least Cade could make sure Emmett was warm. And thankfully, he was still there.

“Nah, you’re stuck with me on campus,” Cade said when the other noticed him and spoke out. “I just needed to get out some and I saw you laying here,” he tossed the blanket over to Emmett. “Went and grabbed the blanket in my car, I didn’t want you getting too cold.” While the weather was getting warmer, the nights had a tendency to get cold. “You doing okay?” Cade asked as he moved to sit down on the grass.

Emmett rolls his head to the side to look at Cade’s feet. He doesn’t have to look up at him to know it’s him. He hears his voice often enough he could probably pick it up across a crowded room if he wanted to. Not that he ever has. But he could. He doesn’t know what to say when the blanket lands on him. It’s honestly the last thing he was expecting to happen this evening. Sprawled out on the lawn like he was. He surprises himself when he adjusts it over his legs. He’s cold. He hadn’t realized that. Or maybe he was sobering up enough to notice it. Doesn’t matter. He doesn’t have any way of making himself not sober anymore. “I’d rather be stuck with you than most other people.”

He throws an arm over his face, hiding his eyes from the sky. Trying not to spiral away with the stars. “Didn’t know I was cold.” He admitted, mostly in an effort to not think about the answer to Cade’s question. He’s got one. But he doesn’t want to share it. Not even with himself. So he doesn’t. “I’ve had better nights. Mostly because we didn’t get our asses handed to us on them and the alcohol wasn’t half off because it was pity hour.” He groans. “Are the stars still spinning or can I open my eyes again?”

[emmett-ashford]

claudiajewellx‌:

Disappointment was crushing. It made Claudia feel like she couldn’t breathe after seeing the final score and that one thing was certain: The Foxes did not win. Logically, it wasn’t a huge enough loss to ruin their chances at winning but it was a blow to their egos and it had significantly shaken Claudia’s confidence. That talk with Grant had helped some, she had made an appointment with Betsy to talk about her issues and being afraid to get her hopes up and she thought she was in a good place. Or a marginally better one, at least, but progress was just that and even a tiny step forward was still a step forward.

That loss threw her, though. This game was her life and she needed to be prepared for every outcome. Betsy told her that she couldn’t be afraid to hope, that it would only end up limiting her, and it was true. All of it, she was terrified to want things because she felt like it would be taken away from her at that last second. Losing is never fun, but at least if you only think you’re going to lose, you’re not as hurt. It’s not a way to live, unfortunately, and Claudia found herself at the court, taking free throws at the goal until her arms hurt and even after. 

Taking a jog wasn’t planned, but it was her best attempt at not smoking, trying to put an end to her cigarette problem, which as an athlete, was a double issue. Running made her lungs hurt in a way that people called “cardio”, not a “nicotine addiction”. Her best thinking was done when she ran alone, chasing down the light from each streetlamp as she went. Eventually, though, she became acutely aware of how much her entire body hurt, of wanting to just collapse into bed. A figure on the ground spoke and, after realizing who it was, Claudia figured that the ground was just as good as her bed to lie down on. “Didn’t want to go home. I think I blew out my arms taking free throws at the court,” she admits with a sheepish laugh, lying down next to Emmett. “What about you?”

“I’m drunk.” Emmett says simply, rolling his head back so he’s looking at the sky again. Claudia is a known face, someone he isn’t afraid to be honest with. Sure, she’s one of the team captains but...he doubts she’ll berate him too much for nursing his wounded pride. It’s not like he shows up to practice hung over or strung out. He doesn’t have much more to say than that for a moment, which he finds unsettling. Talking has always come easily to him. Filling the silence was a talent of his when the quiet between his parents grew to heavy and sharp. As it often did. As he’s sure it often does now. He wonders if the scared little boy from the parking lot knows how to fill the silence like him. How to smooth over the hurts and fears of their parents. The bitter part of him likes to think he doesn’t. Likes to picture him small and quiet in the backseat of the car, saying nothing, the tension mounting.

Then he berates himself for thinking like that. For wishing that on someone so young. Emmett knows now that it hadn’t been a good life and nostalgic as he is for it...wouldn’t wish it on anyone but himself. He groans and tosses one of his arms over his eyes, blocking out the stars. They aren’t staying still very well and he doesn’t want to ruin his nice buzz by thinking about the people in his past. Thinking about them...makes his heart hurt.

“I couldn’t stay at the court any longer after that game. It was just making me angry...and I hate being angry. And I hate feeling like a loser in the face of being a champion...” He sighs, deflating and letting himself get swept up in the blissful drunkeness again. He doesn’t want to feel much of anything right now. Not yet at least. “It’s complicated.”

[emmett-ashford]

Location: Palmetto Campus Date: March 8 Time: 2:39 a.m. (OPEN)

Emmett's first stop once he’s free of the court is a local dive bar he found years ago. It’s not a Fox hang out and that’s exactly what he’s going for. It’s hard to be positive in the light of this loss. Hard to pretend like it doesn’t feel like a big blow. The Foxes were on a roll and losing tonight feels like it’s over. He knows it isn’t. Knows that they’re still ahead on points, but knowing that doesn’t soften the sting of the loss any. He’s two sheets to the wind before long. Blissfully numb to the sting of the loss. Blissfully numb to pretty much everything at this point. He’s not sure why he chooses to leave when he does. The bar patrons have been perfectly friendly, some even buying him pity drinks. But when the itch to go home had settled in his bones he’d simply followed it.

He doesn’t go to the tower though, that’s too stuffy, too....end of the night. He’s more content to wander the dark campus. Going everywhere and anywhere that strikes his fancy. He ends up somewhere near the tower anyways, flopping out on a familiar patch of grass. It’s cold, sure, but not cold enough to make Emmett change his mind about laying out under the stars. He could go for another drink he thinks as he pulls his hands behind his head, cushioning it against the spiky grass.

He’s half way to dozing off when he hears the footsteps. It takes more effort than he’d like to admit to roll over and open his eyes, flashing whoever it was a toothy grin that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “What you doing out here so late? I kind of thought I had campus all to myself tonight.”

[emmett-ashford]

Text -> Emmett

Indigo: i already knew you were lazy

Indigo: poor effort on your part

Emmett: I feel like I should be offended. :(

Emmett: I was only lazy part of the day.

[emmett-ashford]

Text -> open

Indigo: well my day is shit so

Indigo: send me an emoji that sums your day up

Indigo: i'll guess what happened

Emmett: 🦥

[emmett-ashford]

itsoliviafinch‌:

It’d certainly caught her by surprise, hell, some years she woke up and completely forgot it was her birthday all together until someone had somehow found out or the influx of messages from her father. It was the latter this year, waking up to about 15 missed calls and 20 something texts saying how much he loved her, how sorry he was, how he missed his little girl and wanted to spend her special day with her. It was a load of crap. He never tried or cared this much until the Foxes picked up steam, proving that they were in fact a force to be reckoned with. Before then he’d treated her like he always had, with an iron fist, telling her to push harder, that pain was all in your head and was temporary. When she left Penn State for Palmetto, he got even worse, telling her that she was fabricating a story and ruining her shot. Well, she was proving him wrong, the Foxes were kicking ass and she couldn’t have been prouder or happier to shove his face into it with a cold shoulder.

Zia had gotten her a present once, it was tickets to a show in the city, she remembered the way the theater smelled, the way the dancers on stage came to life, the way the singers poured their soul into the performance. It was how she felt when she was on the court, like she was untouchable. Other than that, the last time she had someone give her a present let alone celebrate the day she was born was when she was eleven. That was it. She tried that party in High School and was beyond embarrassed for even giving it a shot, she still remembered her father’s ‘I told you so’s’. But even then, no one had hand made her anything, not like Emmett had. It made her feel a warm in her chest, and she swallowed it down with a small smile, unable to know anything about what it meant. 

Then he’s smiling at her with an expression that only made her mirror a wide toothed grin back to him, an expression she certainly didn’t dawn too often. “Oh, uh, yeah…..I guess, right?” It was clear she was out of her element, and she took a deep breath before nodding slowly, hearing the nickname that reminded her of Zia. Maybe Emmett could become a close friend, so far he’d given her no reason to steer the other direction. “I just, I don’t really have people….er, give me things on my birthday. Like, it’s just, new to me. Sorry, I’m being weird.” And now she’s blushing as she rubbed the back of her neck and breathed out,”What I’m trying to say is…thank you. Seriously.” She paused, unsure of what to do next but her body is telling her to hug him, which is odd considering physical touch isn’t her favorite thing. “Can I, uh, hug you?” Her tone was gentle, soft as she avoided eye contact and questioned more of the floor than the boy in front of her.

Emmett doesn’t even waste his breath to tell Olivia he’s okay with her hugging him. He’s an affectionate person when it’s on his terms...and he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t wanted to hug her. She looked so small and sad and out of place right now and Emmett hated that. He wraps her up and squeezes, speaking softly. “I don’t get a lot of things on my birthday either. Growing up it was just another day of the year. I didn’t even know the date for real until a few years ago.” One final squeeze and Emmett pulls away. He doesn’t want to overwhelm her and he doesn’t want to overwhelm himself. “But I wanted to make you something. So I did.” His smile is at full wattage again. “I’m glad you liked it so much. The art students thought it looked goofy.” Or maybe they thought he looked goofy, covered in paint from working on such a tiny surface. He picked up his messy creativity from his mother, he couldn’t help it.

"It’s a shame you’ll have to wait until I think of something new to paint. Or until I can convince the art professors to let me back in the art building.” He laughs. “Apparently I’m a messy individual who doesn’t even have the decency to pick art as his major so I need to leave.” He laughs again. “She’s a soft one though. I’ll worm my way back in within the month. If our exy schedule allows it.” And with championships looming so close his exy schedule barely left him with time for studying these days.

“But seriously, Liv. I’m glad you liked him. I’ll have to start brainstorming some ideas for the next one. I’ve used all the easy ones.” He winks at her. He’s already got a handful of ideas. But he doesn’t plan on doing much with them until summer time. Maybe a welcome back to campus gift or something. He’s got time to think of something.

[emmett-ashford]

nguyenalanna‌:

“That is what I meant,” Alanna reassures him, as she writes down the highlights of his answer. “You’re breaking my heart,” she says, nudging Emmett with her elbow as he dramatically collapses. “But fine. After this I’ll see what I can bake up for you. Deal?” Emmett doesn’t need to play hard to get here, not truly. Alanna’s easily won over. It’s obvious Emmett enjoys whatever baked goods she has to offer too, and she loves that. It isn’t quite the same magic as mastering a new move in cheerleading or standing side-by-side with the Vixens, but it feels like appreciation and acceptance all the same. 

She assumes he means Instagram when he says the photo app, so Alanna finishes her notes with that. She follows Emmett there, the same as the rest of the Foxes and Vixens, but it’s true that he hardly posts. It isn’t completely surprising to hear he’s inadvertently locked himself out. “Oh, yeah, there are tons more. Snapchat, VSCO, Pinterest.” She shrugs. “You’ve got the big ones though, I think. I bet you’d like Snapchat though. The filters are fun, and it’s a lot less pressure than like, Instagram.” 

If Emmett even feels the same kind of pressure Alanna does when it comes to social media. Somehow, Alanna doesn’t think he does. Maybe it’s her own bias, her own paranoid thought that her insecurities are hers alone—as if insecure teenage girl is in any way unique—but Emmett seems so comfortable in his own skin. He’s loud and bright and vibrant, and he isn’t ashamed of it. Alanna can take up space, but only once she’s seen someone else do the same. It feels like that’s permission—without that, without someone else to lead the way, it’s too intimidating. “So, next question. What would have to change for you to use social media more often?”

“Deal!” It’s not a hard decision for Emmett. Answer a few questions he doesn’t actually have answers to to get Alanna’s cooking. He’s done less for more. “You’ll let me help, right? I promise that I’ve been practicing in my free time.” Emmett’s not stupid, he knows he’s not a great cook and that more often than not he ends up ruining something...but it’s fun to try. Fun to learn something he’d have never learned growing up. Cooking in the Ashford family meant dumpster diving or whipping up a feast with your imagination. The first time his grandmother had told him to make dinner had been nothing short of an unmitigated disaster...and the last time she’d let him in her kitchen. She’d probably find it hilarious that he’d spent a chunk of his life working in a kitchen to pay the bills. Not that she deserved to know that of course.

He cocks his head to the side as she lists of even more social media apps. A few he’s heard of. Most he hasn’t. None of them really peaking his interest. “It’s hard to do the picture stuff cause I don’t have a smart phone. And I’m terrible at taking pictures.” He can’t even remember why he’d signed up for Instagram now that he’s thinking about it. Probably a vain attempt at fitting in when he’d joined the Hornets. He’d tried back then. Tried to hide what little he had and what little he knew about. And pretending had been fun...at least until he’d spiraled so far out of control that he didn’t  have anything to pretend for anymore. Fry cooks and bus boys in dive diners don’t care much about Instagram or Twitter.

The next question is easy and he smiles at her, rummaging in his hoodie until he pulls out his Walmart brand flip phone. “That’s probably reason one.” He shrugs. He doesn’t want one of those fancy phones people have these days. They’re expensive...and he hardly even uses the one he has now. It’s mostly there for calling his tutors and the Fox group chat. “It’d probably help if I lived a more interesting life too.” A dry chuckle. “I honestly don’t think there’s much of anything that could change to get me to change. I don’t see the appeal in sharing my life with strangers on the internet. The people I want to share my life with like that are right here. If I want to show them something I’ll just tell them to come over and look at it.” It’s a small world, but it’s his world. And there is genuinely no one outside of the Foxes and Vixens he wants to share it with right now.

[emmett-ashford]

itsoliviafinch‌:

WHO: @emmett-ashford​ WHEN: March 5th WHERE: Fox Tower common area

When she woke up two days ago on her birthday, she treated it like any other day, because in all honesty…Olivia never celebrated her birthday. The one time she tried in high school, no one even showed up except for two girls who honestly probably were just there for free cake. They hardly spoke to her, didn’t bring a gift, and just dipped after an hour. Friends weren’t exactly the norm for her, her father didn’t like anything that could possibly distract her from Exy, plus bringing anyone over her sleep overs were way out of the question. So she never really mentioned it, kept it a secret almost and went about her business. 

So it was a huge surprise when there was a present outside of her door, wrapped and addressed to her. When she saw it was from Emmett, she almost felt like crying, because this was the second time he even thought about her or put in effort. But the tears swelled in her eyes when she saw it was another painting, this time of a fox in a birthday hat, and she couldn’t help the huge grin on her face as she got to hanging it beside the Finch he’d given her on Christmas. Her birthday now was just something she dreaded, her father blowing up her phone to the point of just turning it off a majority of the day and shutting herself in her room to binge watch more Netflix shows due to this being the first time in her life that she had finally started catching up to everyone around her as far as pop culture went.

Now, she was making her way through the common space of the Fox tower whenever she spotted Emmett in the distance. Around campus, she’d been looking out for him to ask him how he even knew it was her birthday, so she made her way over slowly with a small smile, “Uh, hey….” Olivia began softly, motioning to him with a little, nervous laugh under her breath, “I got your present, you really didn’t have to get me anything, I just….how did you know it was my birthday exactly?”

The only reason Emmett even knows his birthday is because his grandmother had insisted on celebrating it in the years he’d lived with her. Bought him a cake, gotten him presents, the whole she-bang. His parents might’ve given him a hug. If they’d remembered at all. He’d never understood why people got so bent up about birthdays, at least until he’d gotten his first non-grandmother present. It had come as a surprise. A poorly wrapped little square presented to him after a practice one day. It was just some new pads and a goofy card...but Emmett had been so overwhelmed that he’d ended up crying the whole walk home. He wore those pads until they fell apart and he still had that card. It was old and worn, held together with more tape than actual card, but it meant the world to him. He still wasn’t big on birthdays, he doubted he ever would be...but he knew how it felt to get something, even if it was a goofy painting of a fox in a party hat.

After Olivia’s reaction to her Christmas gift Emmett knew exactly what he’d get her for her birthday. It was just a matter of figuring out when that was. He didn’t have a Facebook to tell him and he knew if he asked around word might get back to Olivia and he didn’t want that. It was purely luck when he’d learned it...and purely luck that he hadn’t missed it. The little fox wasn’t his best work but he didn’t have a lot of time to trouble shoot it. He was a little crooked, if you knew what to look for, but Emmett liked him. He hoped Olivia would too. 

He wrapped it in pain paper, scribbling ridiculous little birthday doodles all over it. He left it just outside her door, pretty convinced she’d prefer him not be there. He hadn’t quite expected her to show up when she did. He shot her a mega-watt grin as she walked up next to him. “It was your birthday. You’re supposed to get a gift or two on your birthday right?” He shrugs and winks at her. “That’s my little secret, Liv. And I never tell my secrets.”

[blooddisco2]

[emmett-ashford]

leodxarte‌:

Leo prides himself on being a good host. He prides himself on maintaining the appearance that he has nothing to hide, too. He thought that it wouldn’t matter, that this house’s ghosts are known only to him—(here’s his father’s room, here’s the safe that Leo can’t open, where he’s afraid of what might be inside; here’s where the gun had gone off, here’s where someone fell, someone bled, someone died, and then was gone the next day like it had never happened)—but seeing someone here, in his father’s room, a room that Leo hardly set foot in when his father was alive and can hardly bring himself to set foot in now even though his father isn’t here to stop him, he just wants to get him out.

Every time he comes back to this house, nothing’s changed. It’s his fault: the house is so big, so daunting, he can’t bring himself to change anything. He just hides in the few spaces that feel close to comfortable to him—his room, the pool, the gym—and ignores the rest of it. How quiet it all is. How quiet it’s always been.

As a result, the place is about as welcoming to him as it’s always been. He’s alone, and he’s going to stay alone, but he can almost imagine that his father is just out of town, the way he’d always been when Leo was growing up, leaving Leo wondering when he was coming back, leaving him wondering why he wasn’t enough to make him stick around.

Maybe there’s a part of him that wants to pretend: he’d tried so hard to be the perfect son and, in the end, his father was gunned down in the fucking street, and Leo was an ocean away. They hadn’t spoken in a year.

“Or something,” he says, his tone gruff. He steps back into the hallway, out of the entryway, leaving room for Emmett to leave, for him to close the door behind him and hope that it stays closed. “You can keep looking around,” he says, trying to get back some of his easy magnanimity. “I don’t mind. There’s a lot that’s more interesting than—some room that no one uses anymore.” Like the rest of the house isn’t just as fucking empty—but that was more typical. It’d always been too much house for just the two of them, and that’s doubly true now that it’s just Leo. “You need another drink? I can show you where I stash the good shit.”

Or something wasn’t really the answer Emmett was expecting...or wanting. Maybe it was because he was drunk or maybe it was because he was genuinely curious, but he wanted to know the real answer. Wanted to learn more about Leo. But Leo had made it unending clear that this was the last thing he wanted to be talking about and the last place he wanted Emmett to be. He feels a little like a scolded child for a moment. Caught in the act of doing something he knows he shouldn’t have been. It passes quickly enough. And Emmett’s amiable enough to start walking towards the door like he isn’t at all bothered by Leo’s short tone. “I’ll keep exploring elsewhere. I’m sure there’s some cool rooms I’ve missed between then and here.” He smiles. “I’ll make sure not to come back here though. It’s better if you don’t share you’re ghosts right?”

Emmett doesn’t know a lot about the background of the Foxes. Doesn’t go out of his way to google them or pester people to learn more about them. If they aren’t telling him why they are the way they are it’s not up to him to figure it out. He doesn’t like it when people ask him how he ended up here. Doesn’t like digging up old ghosts. There’s a reason almost no one on the team knows much about his childhood. A reason no one knows that he’s parents dumped him out and replaced him without a second glance. It hurts to share. He gets it.

He lumbers drunkenly out the door, leaning on the door frame and grinning back at Leo. “I’m always game for another drink. Just give me a minute to finish this one so the new one doesn’t end up getting warm.” He grimaces at the thought. “Warm beer is disgusting.” He lumbers out the door, “Unless you’ve been hiding the mixed drinks section of this party from me...and I sure hope not because that’d be mean.”

[emmett-ashford]

alvstvn‌:

“And that’s fine! We all need someone to worry over us from time to time.” And Alis thinks of her mother, of the moments she exited her room to catch her mother with a hand raised. Poised, prepared. As if she wasn’t sure if Alis would answer, and what would have to be the next step.

And she thinks of her mother’s voice over the phone, unspoken questions hanging in the air. Of how it’s a comfort and a burden pressing against her chest.

She clasped her hands over her lap, shaking her head. “Again, I’m sorry. That was more me being dramatic than anything else.”

She hopes the apology is enough for the moment, and it seems as if it is when he sends her a wink. She meets his smile with one of her own, and she hopes it rings genuine. “Quite scandalous, Emmett. But I’ll treasure your honesty, and I’ll keep your secret.

“As for me going easy, well — we’ll see if that happens. But if it does, I’ll know who to press weights beside.”

“I think Abby and Wymack worry over us enough for everyone. I try to keep my worrying to a minimum for fear someone less understanding than you will finally snap at me.” He laughs. He doesn’t really think his worrying would make any of the Foxes snap at him, he half thinks most of them like the fact people worry over them now, but he’s never been one to rock the boat anyways. Emmett shrugs, not at all bothered. “My mom always told me that sometimes it was okay to be a little dramatic. You hold all that emotion in and you just...pop.” Like his dad. In the early days she said he was simply letting out all the things he’d held in. As he’d gotten older the lie hadn’t felt as comforting. Now, he saw it for what it was, an excuse layered in a happy little lie.

Her smile almost feels genuine. Almost. It’s enough to make Emmett feel good about sitting down next to her. He liked making people feel better...and Alis looked like she needed a little smile in her life. “We will make the perfect slacking off partners.” He holds out his pinky finger, fake solemn.  “But only if you pinky promise that you’ll never tell on me. I can’t handle a disappointed Wymack lecture anymore than the best of us. And I promise I’m not going to slack off that often. I swear it on...uhm...I swear it on my exy racket.”