hernuclearwinter

[hernuclearwinter]

cowboy wip eek

Waking up in a sweat to the howling of coyotes. The desert is cold and unforgiving at night and it makes her skin stand on end with goosebumps. Cicadas skitter in dry bushes and wind whistles past her with near nothing to cover the chill. Suddenly, a heavy weight is draped over her shivering form, a poncho- she blinks her eyes open and they sting wet in the frigid air. He’s next to her, sitting upright and unbothered by the extreme temperature. With eyes wet and blurry she squints her vision at his exposed arms: dark skin with black ink moving. Moving? No- surely it wasn’t. She rubbed the sand out of her eyes and immediately his gaze snapped to where she was laying on the ground. His stare pierced through her outline, eyes a little too gold and near glowing under the wide brim of his hat in the dark of desert night.

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a recent orville

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The Ghost and the Knight

French, 19th Century.

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unsight/ gouache watercolor

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Lord have mercy

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[hernuclearwinter]

now watch me wip

“What are you doing in my room?”

His voice was sweeter than expected and it made her sick. He spoke so softly that she almost thought he hadn’t said anything at all. 

Molly froze in place where she had been creeping towards the bookcase next to the bedroom door. When her back was turned he had stood up from his perch in the shitty office chair and approached her with a silence that she found terrifying. 

Slowly she turned around to meet his gaze. His eyes were gray behind huge rounded glasses and the light from the computer besides them shined bright on the lenses. He looked like a deer caught in the headlights, literally- but if anyone here was caught, it was Molly. The boy’s eyes were manic and his pupils were shaking. He was uncomfortable. She was in his territory.

Molly was scared but decided he looked like a nerd. He looked like every stereotype depiction of “nerd” and “geek” in the book, (though some would argue those two words meant very different things). His figure itself was tall and broad underneath a ratty woolen sweater he practically drowned in, but from the way his posture curved him, he seemed almost meek and small like he was trying to hide. He was clearly nervous- Molly laughed, he was nervous? She was the one backed up into a corner! 

His hands were fidgeting and shaking under the stress of the intruder clearly unwelcome in his room. His fingers were covered in small cuts and tears like he had been gnawing on his hands in his spare time- he probably had been. Nasty bitch. 

“What are you doing in my room?” He repeated, swallowing nervously. 

He took a step forward and Molly’s back hit the wall. He was flexing his hands like he wanted to grab her by the collar of her shirt or wring her neck out.

“Uhm…” She struggled to think of an excuse. Really, she was just surprised he didn’t immediately try to maim her. It seemed he was more cautious (or nervous) than his counterparts but she wouldn’t let her guard down. Molly knew what he was capable of. He may look like a wet pathetic greasy loser (and he was) but she had seen the damage he dealt. 

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leo’s 2k celebration ➜ @emorysbabe

the collector in THE COLLECTOR (2009)

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#👑

[hernuclearwinter]

ɢʜᴏsᴛ & ᴋᴏ̈ɴɪɢ - ᴍʏ ᴍᴀɪɴ ᴏᴘᴇʀᴀᴛᴏʀs :)

[hernuclearwinter]

Women of the IRA, Northern Ireland, 1977 by Alex Bowle

[hernuclearwinter]

are you...... "a gay".... if so.... why?

[hernuclearwinter]

are you...... "a gay".... if so.... why?