#will golding

[starlykree]

lock in chat

[sidewalkmag-blog]

Up up up up up up

[starlykree]

should I upload my fake tma statement featuring Will and Gillian that’s totally not very heavily based off lotf

[starlykree]

I love mucking about with the hunger games simulator

[starlykree]

Does he even know the egg exists cause she’s not hatching

[starlykree]

ah the good days before they all decided mauling each other was better 💔

Minor dump section: so the other really important person in Will’s whole story is Gillian (atp I’m not even trying to hide how heavily I was inspired by Lotf). They REEEEEEEALLY hate each other. She is genuinely a nice person but god she’s controlling and a perfectionist. I love my horrible daughter ❤️

[starlykree]

hi welcome to Kristober where I create stuff and post as usual except it’s october

today I have a short piece of writing I did for my previously mentioned bsd OC Will Golding. I hope you enjoy. ^^

TW: blood

Night

Tonight was another night where Will didn’t think he’d be able to sleep. Not with the constant hum and buzz of the cars, or the blood trickling in a little stream down his nose onto his flaking lips, even though it drained him in every sense of the word.

 He blinked twice, trying to get rid of the awful stretched feeling of the skin beneath his eye. When that failed, he rubbed his eyelid, smudging all kinds of dirt into his face. 

Looking up once again at the sky, he was a little overcome by the sheer amount of stars. He’d never really had the time to look, and never bothered since there’d always be a thick curtain of clouds blotting out the starlight; often even the moon. But just in this moment, he could see them all. He was even able to pick out some constellations, tracing Ursa Minor in the sky with the lifting of a weary arm. Apparently that was meant to be a bear. Imagine! Even with just the one eye, Will reckoned that it distinctly did not look like anything much other than a saucepan, much less a bear. 

The thought of it was almost enough to make him smile. He turned his head as if he was about to tell someone about the funny thought that had popped into his head. This granted him nothing other than the realisation that his nosebleed was now flowing into his hair. 

Of course, he was alone. No Peter, no Norman, no Molly. Especially no Mike. He even would’ve been glad to see Gill. He turned his head upright again and sniffed hard. 

Suddenly, he was very aware of his arms. The way the damp grass felt on them and how cold they were. He should probably adjust his jacket, he thought, but it was too late. He’d do it tomorrow when he had energy. He had a lot of things he said he’d do tomorrow. 

Maybe he would fall asleep. Now that the humming and buzzing started to blur as brief snippets of dreams interfered with reality. He wouldn’t be able to keep his eye open for much longer.