How To Make The Ultimate Chocolate Cake

Uses of your white board

Photoshop shortcut keys

Lesson plan goals

Calendar

Drawing a mistress of magnetism

you can take away this trope from my cold dead hands

part 2 , 3 , 4

A literal sleepy baby.

(part 1) as previous mention i recently found out that 2.8 blender kinda changes everything (i’ve been trying to learn the software for a very, very long time, but I could never remember the shortcut keys)

now here’s a bit of little things that i’ve learned. These images are in chronological order starting with 26th august and last one being 17th september. Includes learning modeling, sculpting, procedural shaders and modifiers

This picture of my cat is meme worthy, I think.

@mostlycatsmostly

Me: *does something*

My bones:

RWBY Art Challenge Day 8: An Antagonist

Shhhhh I know it’s late…and out of order but I promise I did start it on the right day I just got…sidetracked *sideways glance at Willow *

An excitement boop!

seventeen ✶ 독 : fear

Misery Needs Company

it sounded like @copperbadge was having One of Those Weekends, so i asked if he’d like some fic and he requested someone with a headache getting coddled

feel better!

–

“Tony!” Pepper calls and he flinches.

A headache going on day three is sitting like a pulsating rock in his frontal lobe and the pitch of her voice is enough to send a needle point of pain inward.

Pepper pauses, looks at him for five seconds, and then says, voice lowered, “When did it start?”

“On the way home from NBC?” Tony tries because he honestly isn’t sure.

Pepper stares at him. “That was two days ago.”

“Yeah,” Tony sighs.

“Tony,” she says, sounding appalled.

“What?” he replies defensively. “I’ve gotten six hours of sleep the last four nights, I’ve eaten regularly, I’ve only had like four cups of coffee per day, and I haven’t gone over the recommended dose of over-the-counter painkillers even though I know you can go over that and be fine!”

“Tony, that wasn’t criticism,” Pepper says, her expression sympathetic and her hand light on his arm.

“Oh,” Tony says, and deflates. “I’m tired and I’ve been sleeping,” he whines. “How is that fair?”

“It’s not.” She nudges him forward gently and Tony moves as directed, reaching up to dig his knuckles into his forehead. If he presses hard enough, it briefly dulls the pain. “Come on. We’re done for today.”

Tony should protest. There’s still a lot to do. But it feels good to have someone take the reins and he doesn’t have it in him to fight when he wants to do what she says so badly.

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