#eschatologies

[onlyhurtforaminute]

NEXILVA-ESCHATOLOGIES

[returnsandreturns]

You ever go and read stuff you've written on Ao3 and just want to rewrite basically all of it? I mean, not like YOU in specific because I find that your writing is genuinely divine but like you in general as a writer? I'm reading over a fic from years ago after someone left a lovely comment and cringing and thinking, "I could just edit all this terrible shit and no one would ever know..."

Oh mean, I have intense feelings of BURN IT ALL DOWN AND START OVER when I read anything older than a year old, but I’ve restrained myself from doing anything. I am far too lazy to ever rewrite anything, though.

[intosnarkness]

eschatologies replied to your photo: i don’t want to doxx my cats but this is their...

What kind of tree is that?

Artis-tree

i’ll show myself out.

[returnsandreturns]

matt/foggy #18

Matt didn’t actually mean to push Foggy into the pool, but they’re both way too drunk to be near this much water, and Matt’s bare feet slip on tile and he grabs Foggy around the waist to try to steady himself. It doesn’t work. It really doesn’t work, it does the opposite of working, because they both end up toppling into the pool and going under.

Matt surfaces and coughs up water, laughing hard, and Foggy follows him a few seconds later, only he’s not laughing.

“Sorry,” Matt says, grinning apologetically at him until he smells something new. It smells like the ocean, like salt, a little bit like fish but not in an unbearable way. He makes a curious noise and drifts closer to Foggy, whose breath catches.

“So,” Foggy says, weakly. “You know I said I don’t swim because I don’t like taking my shirt off in public?”

“Yeah,” Matt says. He might not have done this if it weren’t for all the tequila in his body right now, but he reaches out slowly to touch Foggy’s stomach under the water, listening to Foggy’s racing heart race even faster.

Matt slides his hand to Foggy’s hip and gasps.

“It’s genetic,” Foggy says. “I didn’t even get to talk to a sea witch, it really sucks.” 

*

“Merman,” Matt says, after Foggy explains everything to him. “That’s--you--that’s what you are.”

“I’m actually okay with mermaid,” Foggy says, shrugging so water moves gently around him.

“Mermaid,” Matt echoes, smiling suddenly, feeling shy. “Can I touch it?”

“The tail?” Foggy asks. “I guess.”

Matt can hear it swishing underneath them, a careful current that washes up against Matt’s legs. He puts a hand on either side of Foggy’s waist, sliding them down until he feels slick skin and scales under his fingers. It’s weird. It’s also spectacular.

His tail’s thick and warm even in the cold water, and Matt holds his breath before ducking under the water, pulling himself down further with his fingers pressing lightly into Foggy’s skin. He explores as much of it as he can, delighted at the feeling of a fin near where Foggy’s feet should be right before he has to get back up to catch his breath.

“Do you have gills?” Matt asks, still panting, before Foggy can say anything.

“Yep,” Foggy says.

“Can you talk to dolphins?” Matt asks, and Foggy barks out a laugh that leads Matt to giggling, drunk enough that it feels fine to wrap his arms around Foggy’s waist and hide his face against Foggy’s shoulder.

“No, I’m not Aqua Man,” Foggy says, holding Matt close.

“Just a mermaid,” Matt says, into his damp skin.

“Yeah,” Foggy says, voice going curious when Matt raises his head.

“That’s really cool,” Matt says. “And weird, so weird. I actually have a weird thing to tell you about me, too, now that I know you live under the sea.”

“I do not,” Foggy says, huffing out a laugh. “What’s your weird thing?”

“I have two actually,” Matt says, softly. “I think I have to demonstrate the first one.”

“Please tell me you’re a werewolf or something, I’ll find you a car to dance on,” Foggy says, but then Matt’s pushing up to kiss him, wrapping his legs around Foggy when he immediately murmurs, “Oh my god, finally,” and kisses him back. Foggy tastes just a little bit like salt, but that might actually be from the margaritas, and the rocking motion of his tail underneath them makes everything feel calm and still besides their bodies and their mouths pressed together.

“There,” Matt says, when he finally convinces himself to pull away. “Too weird?”

“Only if we try to cross any bases while we’re under water,” Foggy says, “because I don’t want to teach you things about fish genitalia.”

Matt gapes at him before laughing again, warm and overwhelmed and really fucking happy.

“Let’s get you dried off,” he suggests, kissing Foggy one more time before heading for the edge.

[existential-undead]

[existential-undead]

[t3rra-bull]

Nexilva - Eschatologies (Live @ O’Riley’s Backroom)

[returnsandreturns]

Autumn meme: matt/foggy baking, obvs.

Their whole apartment smells like cinnamon and nutmeg and pumpkin and melted butter and a few other things that make Matt breathe deeply and sigh when he steps inside.

“Stress baking already?” he asks, smiling at Foggy and shrugging out of his jacket, who’s moving around the kitchen erratically. “It’s barely October.” 

“Law school is killing me,” Foggy says. “Head’s up, I’m handing you a muffin that’s problem going to make you fall in love with me.”

Too late, Matt thinks, feeling a definite tiny pang in his heart as his smile falters until he takes a bite of the warm muffin that Foggy presses into his hand. The smell hits him first, everything blended together perfectly, and it’s so good that he moans a little, going quiet when Foggy’s heartbeat picks up.

“It’s great,” he says, with his mouth full.

“Thanks,” Foggy says, wiping his hands together before boosting himself up to sit on the countertop. “Maybe I can start up a bakery after I finally fail out of school.” 

“You’re not gonna fail,” Matt says, taking another bite of the muffin before he sits it down carefully and moves closer to Foggy, reaching out until his fingers brush against Foggy’s knee. “I would definitely pay money for these muffins, though.” 

There’s Foggy’s heart again. It comes and goes, how it speeds up around Matt. It’s been awhile since it’s seemed so--possible. 

“Feel free to abandon your law dreams with me, then,” Foggy says, kicking his foot out to nudge Matt’s leg gently. “You can use your ridiculous muscles and hand mix everything, we’ll be a hit.” 

“Just say the word,” Matt says, smiling up at him, leaving his hand on Foggy’s knee. He wants to keep eating that muffin. He wants to kiss Foggy. He wants to feed a muffin to Foggy and then kiss him afterward. 

“Can I help you with something, there, buddy?” Foggy asks, a little nervously. 

“Yeah,” Matt says, reaching up to brush Foggy’s hair away from his face. “Did you eat one already?” 

“Oh, I ate three,” Foggy says, laughing, “because everything is terrible.” 

“Good,” Matt says, softly, pushing up to kiss him and taste the cinnamon on his tongue. Foggy goes still before he kisses him back, spreading his legs so Matt can stand between them.

“Less terrible now,” Foggy breathes, when they break apart.

“Good,” Matt repeats, happily, then kisses him again.