#tb :: canvas

[void-star]

The Ocean Takes Me In, To Watch You Shake

Acrylics.

#my.art #the bright sessions #tbs fanart #the bright sessions fanart #damiark #mark bryant #damien gorham #acrylic painting #traditional art #canvas painting #the best art ive ever done for the biggest blorbos in my heart

[hpmort]

It’s often been pointed out that Nightmare is the most unrelated to anything Kirby villain, with no explanation. Dark Nebula, at the very least, rules the Underworld, which implies a connection to Morpho Knight, and has a naming scheme that could also imply relation to Dark Matter. Nightmare? To make him relevant, people take his potential relationship to Meta Knight from the anime and shove it in, to try to relate him to, at the very least, something. (I saw one thing that worked with the idea that Nightmare was made of Dream Matter, which, ya’know, is at least something.)

Anyways, this implies that he was almost playable in Canvas Curse, and just how different would the series be if he was just a choice there? Presumably even if there wasn’t, like, an explanation for where he came from or what his deal was, he would have probably somehow become a Dream Friend, which would mean we’d have a single pause screen of lore, probably giving a reason why he’s come along on the adventure.

#tb tagged #Kirby #kirby series #kirby canvas curse #nightmare kirby #the nightmare wizard #nightmare wizard #like with the Dark Matter we can rationalize that as gooey or something #it could have been gooey. wtf is going with Nightmare tho. why was he going to be an option #anyways I think that I would give Nightmare a Paintra/Drawcia type origin #only maybe a poem or song instead of a painting

[arielmcorg]

#Gadget - Nueva tarjeta SD Kingston de 1TB

Kingston Technology Company,  lanza la tarjeta de memoria SD Canvas React Plus V60, ideal para los entusiastas de la fotografía UHS-II, fotógrafos apasionados y creativos principiantes (Fuente Kingston Latam). La tarjeta cuenta con velocidades de hasta 280 MB/s y capacidades de almacenamiento que alcanzan 1 TB; asimismo, eleva ese rendimiento de la cámara  ya que permite captar tomas de acción…

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#kingston #latam #PORTADA #SD Canvas React Plus V60 #ssd 1 TB

[twola]

that last anon's request was Big Brain and i wanna jump off it to request the opposite scenario: F!reader is sick with some sort of illness, perhaps not terminal like TB but definitely debilitating for however long she has it. she still wants to be intimate with HH!Arthur and Arthur is just worried about nursing her back to health, but does miss her too, you know... could make for some cute NSFW comfort. if you do this request, ty!!! 🤭

Ah! Caring Arthur. What a nursemaid. I volunteer to be sick. Here’s a shorty for you!

I am still working on four more requests, so if you have one pending, fear not, I haven't forgotten about you!

In Sickness

Arthur Morgan x F!Reader  Smut (18+), MDNI

➵ Fic Masterlist ➵ AO3 Link

In which the trip up to Ambarino does not quite go as planned.

The cold winds rolled down the mountain’s face, clouds so dark it seemed like the dusk had already fallen in the midafternoon, the snowbanks growing by the moment as the horses trudge on.

“C’mon - no use in going on - we gotta set up a tent,” Arthur yells over the wind, his face tucked into the tall collar of his coat. 

You nod, pulling the scarf wrapped around your head to cover the lower half of your face, holding on tightly to the reins of your horse, but it is getting harder by the minute to stay upright. You knew you should haven’t come with him when he asked to you to come up to Ambarino on a hunt: you had already not been feeling great.

Now even as you try to wrap yourself closer against the wind and snow, you burn underneath your layers, feeling weaker and weaker as time ticks by. Arthur brings his horse to a stop amongst a grove of snow covered pines, bearing a small refuge from the howling wind.

He slides off his saddle and immediately starts to unpack the tent in his saddle bags, positioning the tent just out of range of the weighed-down boughs of the trees. 

“C’n’ you start a fire?” He has to yell above the wind, and you nod, moving to climb down from the horse. A bout of lightheadedness hits you, and your coming down is far less graceful than usual.

Actually, you land on your back in the snow, moaning out in pain and exhaustion, and your horse, your young mare, whinnies, and rears in agitation.

Arthur looks up and curses, immediately leaping up and trudging quickly through the snow, up to his boots, to where you landed.

“Shit - Darlin’, took a tumble there.” He says as he stoops over you, leaning over to help you up.

That’s when he sees your flushed face, your labored breathing. “Hey, hey - sweetheart, you feelin’ alright?”

A weak moan is all you can muster.

Arthur looks around, mumbling to himself. He steps closer to you and immediately hoists you up with a strong arm behind your back and the other under your knees, and carries you toward the trees, placing you gently on the ground against one of the large trunks. He stoops down on one knee in front of you, his gloved hands cupping both cheeks as you struggle to keep your eyes open.

“I’m gonna get the tent up, then we’ll getcha nice and warm, alright there, darlin’?”

You nod, and he leans over and presses his warm lips to your forehead before standing back up and moving toward the tent, working quickly to get it pitched. He grabs the bedroll from his saddle, yours as well, laying them out beneath the canvas. You stumble up, trying to show that you’re not completely useless and wade through the snowbank toward him as he finishes up the tent.

“C’mere,” Arthur reaches for you and you nearly fall into his embrace, he pulls you into the tent, maneuvering your body with ease onto one of the bedrolls before crawling inside himself. He pulls down the canvas flap to keep out the cold, before pulling a blanket over you as he lays on his side next to you.

You want to cry. This was supposed to be an escape for the two of you - some hunting, maybe a lot of time spent in a tent… and now it's all wasted.

“M’ sorry I’m ruining our outing.” You sigh, eyes glassy looking up at him. 

“You ain’t ruining nothin’ there, sweetheart. If you haven’t noticed, it's stormy as hell outside. Even if you was right as rain, we’d probably still be doin’ the same thing just sittin’ in this tent.” Arthur shakes his head as he pats his bandana on your forehead, wiping away the sweat dotting from your clammy skin.

You frown, blinking away tears. “Not uh, we wouldn’t be wasting time away from camp when you’ve been gone for so long.” You add a piteous tone to the last words.

He snorts lightly, understanding your innuendo. “Darlin’, I don’t think you’re up to that now.”

You huff, your red-tinged cheeks betraying how right he actually is. “But I’ve missed you. So much, Arthur.”

“ ‘nd I’ve missed you, sweetheart.”

You pout your lips out slightly, knowing that the man had a hard time saying no to you.

“Arthur…”

“Darlin’.”

“Please?”

He sighs. He pulls his hat off, placing it on the ground next to him. “You know you’re a minx, little miss.” He wriggles off his blue fur-trimmed coat, placing it over your body atop the bedroll. He sheds his boots, leaving them beside the canvas flap tied shut to keep the wind out. The cowboy scoots - a funny sight, considering how large he is inside this little tent - completely next to you, placing his lips softly on your forehead before moving to the back of the tent, behind the bedroll.

Arthur moves to sit behind you, pulling you gently to recline on him between his legs. He presses another kiss against your temples, one of his hands moving slowly toward your lap. 

You let out a deep breath as he draws up the blanket covering your lower half, then pulls at your skirts so that they bunch up around your hips.

You give a weak moan as his rough knuckles brush against the soft skin of your inner thighs.

“I’m here, sweetheart, I’m here. Gonna make you feel so good.” He murmurs against your temple as his hand pushes your legs apart. 

He trails up, up, to the waistband of your bloomers, and slides his hand underneath the fabric as you gasp, his fingers trailing downward once more, through the thatch of hair over your cunt to the apex of your thighs as you close your eyes, your hands clenching against his knees on either side of you. 

He rubs, deliciously slow, at your folds, his pointer finger parting them and pressing gently at your weeping entrance before moving back upwards toward the little nub of nerves. You whine, leaning back against him with your head on his shoulder.

After several moments of gently circling that hooded skin, he kisses your forehead as he presses his hand back downward, and dips his pointer finger inside your entrance.

“Oh -” You stutter as your hips buck toward his touch, and he chuckles softly as he presses his finger in further, pressing against your wet, warm inner walls.

You whine, as he pulls his finger from you and pushes back in, a torturously slow rhythm as he works you open.

A gasp bursts from your throat as he adds a second finger, his middle one, thick and long, as he continues his ministrations. 

“There we go, I’ve got you, sweet girl, I’ve got you.”

His thumb presses against that hooded skin above your entrance as his middle and pointer fingers crook within your cunt. Your spread legs shake as he slowly works you, as you pant and gasp, finally looking up at him with lust-blown eyes. Your mouth hangs open as your fingers clutch at the blanket.

“I-I’m gonna-” You choke out before he pushes his fingers all the way to the knuckle.

“Come for me, darlin’ girl.” He whispers roughly into your hair, and you do, oh, you do.

You mewl, high-pitched and needy, as you clench around his fingers, a small gush of your arousal dripping from your cunt, down his palm to his wrists.

He pulls you closer, kissing your forehead as he slowly retracts his fingers. He rights the disheveled waistband of your bloomers, pulling them back into place.

“What - what about you?” You breathe heavily, trying to stay awake.

“ ‘M fine, sweetheart.” He replies, pulling the hem of your skirt down and pulling the blanket up over your form as he adjusts you in his arms.

“But - ”

Arthur lays down atop the bedroll, pulling you over his chest, so that your head is pillowed softly on him. He winds his arms around you and kisses the top of your forehead.

“We can see in the morning, if you’re feelin’ better.”

#red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan #red dead redemption #red dead fanfic #red dead fandom #arthur morgan smut #arthur morgan x female reader #rdr #rdr2 #rdr2 fanfic #arthur morgan x reader #tumblr prompt #twolafic

[i12bent]

Adam Müller (Aug. 16, 1811 - 1844) was a Danish painter of the so-called Golden Age of Danish Art. He was Academy trained with Eckersberg, won all the available silver and gold medals there for his history and religious paintings, and was awarded a travel grant to go to Italy at Thorvaldsen’s behest. There he caught TB and died shortly after returning.

Above: Aladdin griber imellem andre drenge efter de nedkastede pommeranser, 1831 - oil on canvas (SMK)

#art #danish painter #adam müller #1830s #danish royal academy of fine arts #theater painting #smk #smkmuseum #statens museum for kunst #oil on canvas #christoffer wilhelm eckersberg #bertel thorvaldsen #tuberculosis #golden age art

[lalunameli]

My Chara Fineboard from the TB2 Museum Collab, and my Luna TB Styling 2 figure arrived in the mail today.

The Chara Fineboard was everything I expected and more. Excellent quality canvas mounted to a board.

I had to move some things around to fit it where I wanted, but I'm happy with the placement.

The Luna TB Styling 2 Figure was surprisingly bnib and sealed. The piece of gum was still inside, which has got to be over a decade old.

Super happy with how everything looks though I already have to start thinking of where to make room next 😅

#yuri petrov #lunatic tiger & bunny #tiger & bunny #my merch #ユーリペトロフ #ルナティック #ユーリ・ペトロフ #タイバニ #taibani #タイバニグッズ #タイバニぬいぐるみ #タイバニ2 #yuri my love

[ringthebethal]

Better The Devil You Know I

I posted this last Thursday but Think my tumblr was mean and didn’t post this in the mjf tags so posting again

I'm so nervous to post this but here we go.

Spelling and Grammer might not be the best

I might be working on a next part to this.

Maxwell Jacob Friedman x OC (Beth Foley)

95 days since Max walked out of the company

2280 hours since he told me never to talk to him again.

136,800 minutes later, here I am, a completely different woman.

The 25-year-old bubbly chestnut hair girl, daughter of Mick Foley. Who wore the designer dresses Max used to buy me. My lips used to be bright red. It was rare to see me without some form of makeup.

Now I stood with black hair with blonde money pieces at the front, with a black sweatshirt covering my body and face from the world most of the time. I wore a lot less make-up and only wore it for TV. I barely talked to anyone. I closed myself off to most of the people she called friends.

People used to mumble behind my back. People used to ask me if I had heard from Max.

People used to ask if we were still friends.

I used to ignore most of the questions.

Tonight was All Out and I had a title match against Jade Cargill and Athena.

The casino ladder match was currently on the TV in the communal area. I walked over and stayed at the back of the group. Wardlow and FTR saw me and sent a small smile my way. I flashed them a small smile back. They were the only people I would talk to outside of work, but we still had very brief conversations.

Suddenly swarms of black attacked the participants of the ladder match. Everyone around me was mumbling until it was Stokley Hathaway, Ethan Page, Lee Moriarty, Colten Gunn, Austin Gunn and W. Morrissey. The Joker then walked out in a white Devil mask.

I felt uneasy when I saw him walking down the ramp. When he got to the apron, then I saw it.

Only one man enters the ring that way.

Maxwell Jacob Friedman.

My chest started to get tight. I turned as quickly as I could as tears slipped out my eyes. I was slowly walking around the corner and leaning against the wall. I tried to control my breathing.

‘You need to focus on your match’, I scolded myself. ‘Forget about that asshole.’

I placed my hood down and went back to where the wrestlers were now watching the trios final. Everyone muttering about who the joker was.

I returned to mind trying to calm myself down by focusing on my breathing and keeping my head down until the room went completely silent.

The group of men had walked into the room. The devil scanned the room until he locked it onto me. I hid my face with my hair and crossed my arms, pretending not to see him.

‘Hey Foley, ’ Stokley hollered

All eyes were on me. ‘What?’ I spat.

‘The Joker wants to wish you luck for your title match’, he smiled. The Devil just stared at me.

I walked up to Stokley. ‘You can tell the joker I don’t need his luck or help. I don’t need anyone.’ I looked toward the Devil masked man. ‘Especially since the only person I truly cared about walked out of my life. Now, if you excuse me, I have a match.’

Towards the end of the match

Jade had been eliminated by Athena and me and was down outside the ring. I was on the canvas, and Athena was in the corner waiting for me to get up.

I felt the full force of the O-face and felt myself about to be covered when the lights went dark.

I felt Athena get pulled off me and I rolled to the corner to hopefully avoid the commotion. I heard Athena's groans of pain and a heavy slam.

When the lights came up, the Devil stood in the corner opposite me with Stokley by his side. Athena was on the floor, knocked out.

I froze. I stared at Devil as Stokley shouted, ‘Pin her.’

I slowly crawled to Athena without taking my eyes off him, trying to keep my composure.

I covered her.

‘1….. 2….. 3….. Ring the bell’ the referee shouted.

I sat up as Justin Roberts bellowed ‘Here is your winner and NNNNNNEEEEEWWWWWW tbs Champion, Beth FFFFFFOOOOLLLLLLEEEEEYYYYYYY’

I saw Stokley grab the title off the Referee as I saw the Devil extend his leather gloved hand towards me. I stared at him then slowly put my hand in his to help me up.

Once I was up, Stokley handed me the belt. ‘Congratulations’ he smiled

I felt a rage go through me as I placed the belt on my shoulder. ‘Are you going to say something?’ I looked at the Devil. ‘After what you did. How you just left’

I felt tears well up in my eyes. He went to grab my hand again but I pulled away. Stokley step back.

‘No, you don’t get to work your charm on me anymore.’ I snapped ‘You were my best friend and you just fuck off and leave me here alone with no one and never contacted me. Now I look like I need help to get a title.’

He just stared at me and Stokley tried to stepped forward ‘He will explain when we get backstage’ Stokley tried to diffuse the situation.

‘I don't really think I care to hear his excuses.’ I snapped at stokley and turning back to the masked man ‘To think I'm stupid enough to be in love with you all this time and you didn't give a shit about me. You selfish asshole.’

I went to leave and I felt him grab my hand. I let my anger and slap the hell out of the devil and stormed away from the ring.

I knew this was far from over.

#maxwell jacob friedman #mjf #mjf x oc #mjf x reader #maxwell Jacob Friedman x reader #aew fanfiction

[amorgansgal]

Of Wailing Winds, And Naked Woods

Arthur has found a place to rest away from the difficulties of the world and the misery the gang is facing, but he finds his sleep is disturbed by an old friend.

Warnings: Depiction of illness (TB)

‘Hey. Hey! Pssst. Wake up!’

Arthur mumbles in his sleep and pushes the finger that is poking his cheek away. He rolls over onto his side and tries his best to fall back to sleep again, the welcoming lure of a deep, dreamless sleep is one way he can escape from everything that happens in his waking life.

‘Hey, don’t ignore me. Wake up!’ the woman’s voice whispers.

It takes him a moment to realise that this is strange. He is camping out in the forest, near Owanjila lake. There shouldn’t be anyone here to wake him. Tilly and Hosea aren’t here to wake him up with coffee, nor is the piercing yell of Grimshaw knocking pans over his head or Dutch yelling his name from across camp. If there is someone here, then perhaps he should be in for a ruder awakening. O’Driscolls shooting shit up and trying to rob him or a bear ripping through the canvas material! Not the soft, light teasing tone of a woman.

He cautiously peeps open his eyes, before rolling over onto his back. He is greeted by the dark grey material of his canvas tent and the only sounds he can hear is the heavy drip, drip, drip of fat rain drops hitting the tent from tree branches overhead. He can hear the rumble of the storm rolling over the hills and mountains, disappearing into the west.

Arthur sits up. He doesn’t feel tired anymore. He stretches and finds that the usual joints that would click and cry out in pain, are no longer hurting him. He inhales deeply and finds the air doesn’t irritate his lungs. He stops. Unable to believe it. Maybe its gone. Maybe the illness that has sent burning needles through his lungs, made his throat raw and made his mouth taste like nothing but blood has been cured. He cautiously coughs and isn’t overwhelmed by the furious, burning desire to cough and cough and cough until there is nothing left.

‘Psst!’

He jumps at the sound and stares at the tent flaps. A woman’s giggle echoes through the woods and a shiver runs down Arthur’s spine, as he hears nails run down the material. He swallows harshly and picks up his revolver.

‘Who’s there?’ he barks.

The tent flap shifts aside and Jenny pokes her head into the tent. Mousy brown hair, grey eyes and that irrepressible grin she always wore slides into view. ‘Me, silly. Why are you so grumpy?’

‘I’m always grumpy!’ he mutters. He frowns at her. How did she get here? He rode out alone. He camped alone. The gang are miles away. ‘What are you doing here?’

She frowns slightly as though the question has thrown her off. ‘I… I don’t know. Same as you, I suppose.’

‘Wha’s that suppose to mean? Same as me? You ain’t supposed to be here, you should be in camp, you’re meant to be-’ and the words get caught in his throat. Jenny is dead. Shot dead months ago. A bullet to her stomach. Making her cry and whimper at every jolt in the road while she was in the wagon, even though she was still trying to make jokes and laugh and pretend everything was fine.

‘Where am I meant to be? I think I’m where I’m meant to be. I think most of us are here though,’ she says.

‘What?’

Jenny gives him a teasing smile and then turns her head, as though calling to someone just outside the tent. ‘Hey, c’mere!’

‘Jenny?’ he asks partially confused and partially wary. How is this happening? Who is she speaking to? Where the hell are they? How can Jenny, flesh and blood, rosy cheeks, breathing and alive Jenny, be here? Talking to him, watching him, laughing at him?

Then right by his ear, he hears a small voice whisper as though confused and scared, ‘Papa?’

~~~

He jolts awake, the fierce, painful cough ripping open his throat, making him gasp for air and tears blind him as his body is wracked with coughs. The iron tang of blood seeps onto his tongue and he manages to sit up. He grabs his canteen and swallows the stale water therein. A few gasping breaths and he’s gained some semblance of control, though his body is still fighting him, still failing him.

He wipes a rough hand over his mouth and finds himself blinded by sunlight. He looks up at the opened tent flaps, the world beyond looks like a beautiful painting, the sway of emerald green trees, the grass moving like an ocean of soft greens and purple flowers, the bright bolt of blue sky, it all promises so much for those who get to live in it. He ignores the certainty that he closed the tent flaps last night and busies himself with packing away the camp, so he doesn’t remember hearing his son’s voice so close to him. Only fools believe in anything like that.

#arthur morgan #rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #red dead fandom #red dead redemption fanfiction #red dead redemption fanfic #reddead2 #jenny kirk #isaac morgan

[thornbushy]

Who The HECK Are You?

Hi (●’◡’●)ﾉ

I'm Thorn or TB!

I go by any pronouns and I'm a Traditional and Digital Artist (I use ibis Paint X, Google Canvas, and sometimes Sketchbook)

I love 💚

Cartoons and Anime

Indie Games

Podcasts

Cats (=^ェ^=)

My OC's

Seafood 🦞🦀🦐🦑

I'm opening commissions on September 1st on Kofi and would love for, well, anyone to commission me! But I also have a Commissions Form if that'd be more your style.

If you'd like to know more about my Commissions check out the post linked to it!

Links! Links! Links! 🔗

Commission Sheet 1

Kofi

Commission Form

Instagram

Tiktok

My Carrd

Tags I Use:

#thorn ask -answering questions, words, etc.

#thorn art -my art

#thorn oc -my ocs

#thorn comms -commission art

#at your requst -artwork that was requsted on here

#rms art -my roommate shenanigans (pending name) ocs

Anything Else...? Um... Nope! Just Have a Good Day, Drink Lots of Water, and Don't Forget to Breathe a Little 👋🏾

#thorn ask

[returnofdedsec]

In other news ivebeen painting on tbs big ass digital. Canvas and i hate. Art sm i hate art. Art is my enemy

#izt

[capapers]

Onde você encontra templantes? Se for no Da, ia vc pesquisa pra achar?

୨♡̶୧ 𝐴𝑆𝐾 𓊔 open ✦ ˑ anony

mo assim, no início eu adorava todo o processo de fazer com os materiais disponíveis no DA (templates, stickers), mas agora prefiro a patricidade do canva. No canva pra achar templates já prontos é só colocar palavras com relação ao tema

ex: aesthetic, moodboard

Mas normalmente eu altero e crio o meu próprio, já no DA você pode achar templates jogando literalmente "template" ou construir um pesquisando stickers do seu estilo. Atualmente uso mais o canva, polarr e photopea pra tudo relacionado a edição, vez ou outra faço algo pelo picsart tb, espero ter ajudado !

#៹capapers&u ִֶָഒ

[world-of-news]

Offenbarung 11,1 

Und mir wurde eine Meßrute gegeben, gleich einem Stab; und der Engel (Apollyon) stand da und sagte: Mache dich auf und miß den Tempel Gottes samt dem Altar, und die, welche darin anbeten!

[tecnobinaria]

Más capacidad: nueva tarjeta SD Kingston Canvas React 1 TB

Más capacidad: nueva tarjeta SD Kingston Canvas React 1 TB

Kingston Technology Company, líder mundial en productos de memoria y soluciones tecnológicas, lanza la tarjeta de memoria SD Canvas React Plus V60, diseñadas para los entusiastas de la fotografía UHS-II. La nueva tarjeta SD V60 es ideal tanto para fotógrafos apasionados como para creativos principiantes para quienes el costo es importante. Ofrece velocidades de hasta 280 MB/s1 y capacidades de…

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#Kingston #Noticias #Tecnología

[i12bent]

Wilhelm Bendz (March 20, 1804 - 1832) was a very promising Danish painter of the 'Golden Age' of Danish art. He studied at the Academy in the 1820s and received a scholarship to go abroad to Italy. While there he developed TB and died aged 28...

Above: En ung kunstner (Ditlev Blunck) betragter en skitse i et spejl, 1826 - oil on canvas (SMK)

#art #danish painter #danish royal academy of fine arts #1820s #danish golden age #guldaldermaler #wilhelm bendz #smkmuseum #smk #statens museum for kunst #ditlev blunck #genre painting #tuberculosis

[browncage9]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: TORY BURCH~Ella~PINK LEATHER & CANVAS EXTRA LARGE TOTE BAG.

[bala5]

TB T