#fgao

Far Gone and Out—Chapter 5

Sledge must do something on the weekends. He must have b-plots, and c-plots, and d-plots. Anyone with that face has to. I don't picture him as a party type of person, I think he’s a little too old and a little too jaded for that sort of college-aged stuff. He fits much more in bars, I decide. Small ones with football games and veterans cracking wise ones in the corner. His head would probably just skim the light fixtures they put over some of the nicer tables, dark shadows making him look more like a phantom than a man.

Far Gone and Out—Chapter 4

Back at it again with more Everest art & her poem book!! Again based off of Far Gone and Out by @carnalhaus

Song I think fits the fic

Transcript below

I think often of seducing someone, just to see if I could.

 I like the look of their eyes going soft and stupid.

I like tricking them. I like winning.

Then I see myself crying through the whole thing. Gagging on the air. The innards of my cheek would go bloody. 

because I can’t want anything without imagining the ugliest way of having it.

†

I have been collecting. lining them up in little jars of spoiled jam, their skins wrinkled, their sweetness brined in glass.

Some are the size of my heaving lungs, others sag heavy as wet wool, dripping into the floorboards.

When people speak to me I hear the sound of teeth in fruit. soft breaking, tender lapping at its nectar, sucré stolen from its skin.

depuration.

I would like to believe I am unripe that my hardness is choice, not defect but I have greenness to my flesh beneath that skin, I spoil.

In the evenings I wash my hands until the water goes cool, until I can’t tell the red from shadow, until they smell like nothing.

I keep thinking there must be a way to be touched without leaving fingerprints.

Far Gone and Out—Chapter 3