#foggy threads.

[motleyscrew]

“you ever spill coffee on yourself in the middle of court? because i just did.” foggy sighs miserably, dabbing at the dark splotch of a stain on his shirt with a damp napkin. “right in the middle of matt’s closing statement, too. i cursed and everything.” if he’d hoped to make an impression on the jury, it certainly wasn’t an impression like this. foggy turns to the other and holds his hands wide, presenting the dampened mess of his shirt. “how’s it looking?”

open!

[motleyscrew]

oh. they have company. foggy pauses in the doorway as he stares at the woman in the office and tries to remember how to proceed. how did she even get in here? he knows he locked the door when he left. god damn it, foggy, you’re a lawyer - act like one. “uh, hi - welcome to nelson and murdock, i’m - i’m nelson. foggy.” he blinks, then extends his hand to present a bag from the deli down the street. “do you want a bagel?” smooth.

@felinewiles​ liked for a starter!

[motleyscrew]

“jesus, ana,” foggy’s standing in his living room in his underwear and a ratty old columbia t-shirt that he can’t be bothered to throw away. the key feature of his ensemble, however, is the aluminum bat he’s wielding in both hands. “you’re lucky i didn’t hit you with this!” as if it would have made a difference, “how the hell did you get in?” his best guess is the fire escape window that he usually leaves unlocked for matt. “when did this become a halfway house for wayward vigilantes? does everyone in new york just know to come visit chez nelson, or what?” he slowly lowers the bat as his pulse returns to a normal level - between both matt and ana, foggy’s certain he’s going to end up in an early grave. 

@silverskins​ - it’s almost crack!

[motleyscrew]

foggy leans heavily against the doorframe of karen’s apartment and tries his hardest to steady the angle of the world around him (it’s pitching terribly, throwing him off balance), giving karen a drunken attempt at a smile as the door opens. “hey kare,” he straightens, attempting to give himself at least some semblance of dignity, “you should come drink with me.” it’s not the first time foggy’s been drunk on a work night, and it certainly won’t be the last, but tonight’s reasoning is definitely different than most other instances - it’s not celebratory. “maeve leaves for college tomorrow,” he slurs, “and i’m not ready. so i’m drinking. join me.”

@boundedbygrief​ // y o i n k

[motleyscrew]

“hey livvy, you wanna help decorate the tree?” foggy’s hauling an old bin of christmas decor across the floor of the living room - his mother had dropped it off earlier, going on and on about how you have a family now, franklin, you need to carry on tradition! until he’d just accepted the bin to prevent an argument. the artificial tree that foggy has been using since college sits in the corner, looking forlorn and empty. “there’s all kinds of stuff in here that we can use. i’ve even got a commemorative ornament from when nelson and murdock first opened up.” it had been a gift from his mother, of course. “we’ll have to get you your own ornament, too.”

@mtchstck​ // soft christmas vibes!