the style tutors


Hey friends!

Meg here for this week’s TUTOR TUES-WEEK! I got a rec curious about how styles come about, so I sat down and started mapping out steps I felt most artists have gone through based on personal experience as well as observation. I feel these steps happen for a reason and lend themselves to our improvement and growth as artists! If your have tutorial recs send ‘em in here or my personal. Keep practicing, have fun, and I’ll see you tomorrow!


Hey, friends!

It’s Meg and I’m so happy to be back! Special thanks to Paul for giving us two wonderful tutorials!

Today we’re going to have a little conversation about the dreaded ‘art style’ everyone seems to be in search of! As I was writing this I realized much of it is what I wish I could tell younger me, so excuse me if it gets a lil’ sappy!

As always,if you have any recommendations for tutorials send them in to this blog or my personal blog. Keep practicing, have fun, and I’ll see you next Tuesday!

Sun-Kissed Hurricane, Perfect Storm by iwillpaintasongforlou

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Words: 7k

Chapters: 1/1

Harry is the quiet kid in the back of his statistics class who writes a lot and dreams about Louis’ cheekbones . Louis needs a statistics tutor ASAP before he flunks and the quiet kid in the back of the class seems like a good choice. Harry wants to help Louis however he can and Louis wants to see how much he can make Harry blush.

anonymous asked:

Could you do something with jock!hamilsquad x reader? but more with john x reader! I love them so much

heck yeaaaaah

“Kiss?” John asked, looking at you sweetly. “Come on, I’m doing so good on these problems.”

“And that is enough of a reward.” You countered. John rolled his eyes, but he quickly cracked a smile.

“I want a new tutor.” He grumbled dejectedly, flipping over the page in his notebook and copying another problem down.

“What? One who kisses you?” You asked teasingly.


“My tutoring style is effective. You got an A on your last test.”

“I say we mix it up a little,” He leaned in closer, kissed your cheek. He tilted his down, kissed your neck. Your blush deepened as he set his hand on your knee. He pulled back slightly, looked over you. He looked rather smug. “See what other methods work for us.”

You brought his eyes up to yours, the finger under his chin bringing his eyes to yours. “We can do whatever you want once you finish, baby boy.” You gave him a soft peck on the lips, teasingly bit his lower lip. He smirked, in turn, seemed to blush.



we push and pull like magnets do

by Anonymous

He’s reluctant to even think about it but Louis has got to admit that maybe, probably, having Harry Styles tutor him isn’t a completely horrible thing. He was still an insufferable prick that seemed to be constantly looking for the best way to have him in everything they discussed – well, everything except Potions, obviously, considering Louis was the highest grade in that class, but point made – but it was the first time in months Louis was actually able to get through more than five pages of reading material without imploding from stress while actually learning something from it all.

or Louis finds himself struggling with dealing with exams and has to deal with somehow getting stuck with Harry Fucking Styles of all people as his tutor.

Remember to leave kudos and comments, it costs you nothing but a few seconds and it means a lot the author!

A blind nb person who is a master swordfighter. They developed an intricate style of swordplay that uses a specially crafted sword that whistles when moved through the air.

 During the day they are a masculine teacher, tutoring the style to their last student. 

At night they dress up in an elaborate gown, wig, and masquerade mask and fight crime with their apprentice. 

-Mod Iris

look, i just needed some fluff this week, and “Eliza as a stress baker” is a good headcannon. have a fox eating a cupcake for cheer.

Having a boyfriend who’s a fox faerie, Eliza decides, is not much different from having a large pet cat.

He watches intently as she cracks eggs into the mixer. She’s baking cupcakes for rehearsal tomorrow, since it seems likely to go over the usual two hours, and the surprise of baked goods will offset the sense of being trapped inside the theater building like the seventh circle of hell. Besides, if she’s baking, then she doesn’t have to think about the edits von Steuben sent back for her paper. Alexander offered to look them over for her, which is why he’s here, except something - the smell of butter, maybe, or the sound of the KitchenAid - distracted him. He cocks his head, whiskers twitching, as she pours in the vanilla extract.

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