This is what inspiration looks like.

Some people see music in color. Grammy-winning producer Alex Da Kid is one of them. So when Alex needed inspiration for a new song, the Cognitive Color Design Tool turned powerful imagery into colors that would show Alex the emotion behind five years of cultural data. That’s why Alex Da Kid’s music has so many feels.

Listen to ‘Not Easy’ by Alex Da Kid on Spotify or iTunes

anonymous asked:

Y'KNOW WHO DOESN'T GET ENOUGH LOVE? Takeda-sensei. He loves those boys and always does his best for the team i mean come on he pestered ukai for weeks to get him to be their coach because he believes in their potential so much and he doesn't even know a lot about volleyball but he's always trying to learn and I JUST LOVE HIM GOODBYE

He got them a coach 

Originally posted by odd-ballduo

He got them practice matches (at the cost of his own life)

Originally posted by erenyeager

He always speaks the truth

Originally posted by otayura

He gets frustrated™

Originally posted by randomyelly

He’s the leader of the cheering squad 

Originally posted by marcoboldt


Originally posted by tanakaryuu

He delivered iconic quotes like:

  • “Isn’t losing difficult for all of you? A challenge where, ending up on your hands and knees, you must see if you can stand up again? If you stay on your hands and knees, that proves that you are weak.” - my personal fave
  • “You guys being weak means you have room to grow. And there’s no greater joy than that.”
  • “When ‘colors’ mix, they become muddy and messy. But when they all blend together, the final result is the color that wins against all others: black. Become a team of black, like the crows you represent.”
  • “I’m good at getting on my knees and begging.”  -> HONESTLY 


It’s giveaway time!!! I was actually going to do this for 500 followers but time slipped from me! I also have something else planned for all 1000 of you, but meanwhile, I’m sure you’re going to appreciate an ~ART GIVEAWAY~


1. You have to be following this blog. After all, this is a follower giveaway. Might throw something in if you’re also following my main: @soapallo I would appreciate if you didn’t temporarily follow me QQ
2. You get ONE like and ONE reblog. Anymore than that, tumblr just won’t count it so yeah lol.
3. Keep your ask box open.
4. Giveaway blogs and the like can NOT win.

If the winner does not respond within 48h, I will be choosing another winner.

Giveaway ends on July 3rd. Winner will be chosen randomly and I will be contacting them through ask box.

You’ll be winning one one flat colored character of your choice! Examples: x x

Good luck everyone! And thank you so much for sticking by me all these times!


Hidden Figures: Althea Gibson #BlackHERstoryMonth 13/28

Althea Gibson was a trailblazing professional tennis player and pro-golfer in the 50’s and 60s. She was the first Black person and person of color to win a Grand Slam title when she won the French Open. She was also the first Black woman to win Wimbledon and the U.S. Open, a feat she accomplished two years in a row. Gibson won 11 Grand Slam Titles overall and has been inducted into the International Tennis Hall of Fame.

#HiddenFigures #BlackHERstoryMonth


How do you enter?

Either reblog this with a reference of the character you want me to draw or submit one!

Oh, and you have to be following me!

What kind of drawings?

I will randomly pick five winners!

Three followers will win a 1-3 colored drawing and two followers will win a fully colored drawing!

What kind of characters will I draw?

I’ll draw basically anyone/anything! 

Just that MLP characters are a little bit boring to me cuz I’ve drawn them so much in the past. But that doesn’t mean you’re not allowed to enter with an MLP oc!

Winners will be announced on February 17!

Good luck, my friends! I love you all! ^^

“Today’s #SignOfResistance is in remembrance of the 49 people who lost their lives one year ago today. On June 12, 2016, a man walked into Orlando’s Pulse nightclub on Latinx night and opened fire, killing 49 people. Today, we pledge to never rest until all people can live, dance, love, and exist safely and freely. Artwork by Kelly O'Brian.”

IMAGE DESCRIPTION: An illustrated graphic with drawings of the faces of the 49 Pulse victims forms the shape of a heart in the rainbow colors. “Love wins” is written at the bottom of the graphic.

It looks like I made it to 400 followers (plus some!) So I decided to do a digital art raffle. I’ve never done one so I’m not entirely certain how it works, but here’s what I’m going to do:

By reblogging, you can win:

1st Place: Fully colored drawing of your choice. 2 characters maximum.

2nd Place: Colored sketch, mostly flat colors w/ a bit of shading, 1 character.

3rd Place: Sketch/line-art, 1 character.

That’s all there is to it!

1 reblog = 1 entry

If you win, I will message you personally, and you can request whatever you like.

The raffle will end July 17th, and the winners will have their art by July 20th.

Best of luck!!


I don’t know what I was thinking when I had slept only five hours and then decided to draw this. Sleep deprivation drawings for the win, I guess.
Marker pen, colored pencil, white gel pencil & acrylic and watercolors, 3-4 hours. I pretty much listened this the whole time. Such a beautiful and relaxing piece.

Aside from Otus, Twig is my favorite character from Owlboy. Not just because I like his personality or design (which I do!) but…for personal reasons.

disagreements | marty scurll

Originally posted by kinghelmsley

A/N: I got my wisdom teeth removed on Wednesday, so I haven’t written anything in the past couple of days, but I remembered I wrote this short lil something :]

Marty and I, well, we tended to disagree. On a lot of things. Not the kind of disagreements that lead to arguments and eventual yelling, but the kind over petty things that are forgotten in a week’s time. The kind that aren’t truly disagreements because, once it came to it, I’d always be willing to give in if he didn’t give in first.

Truthfully, it was just a matter of who would cave first. Usually it was him, since his resolve quickly crumbled when I brought out my tactics, but sometimes he’d stand his ground firmly, forcing me to be the loser for once. On those rare occasions, Marty would raise his hands in victory and mention it at least ten times a day. Exactly the reason why I hated letting him be right.

When it was the other way around, myself coming out victorious, I was left questioning whether my success was worth it in the end. It almost always ended with a pouty Marty who sulked over it for a solid couple of hours.

It had happened when we first moved in together, debating over what color to paint our bedroom. He’d insisted on brown, meanwhile I’d envisioned a gray room and arranged the entire thing in my head already.

In the empty room, myself on the ground sitting on folded legs and Marty leaned against the doorframe, we were tasked with deciding the color quickly, as everything else was ready to go. Our failure to reach an agreement was the one thing holding us back.

“C’mon, don’t you think brown would be quite nice? It’ll make things feel nice ‘n cozy,” Marty offered, picking up one of the paint chips that was thrown haphazardly on the floor.

Brown wasn’t a bad idea, but with the look we were going for, gray would have been much more suitable. Or maybe that was just my bias coming through; either way, I was dead-set on gray and, considering I had made most of the executive decisions regarding the interior of our first house, I felt I had a pretty good idea going on.

“But,” I began, pulling up a reference picture on my phone of what I had in mind, “Look at this. I think it suits us.”

He studied the picture for a moment, zooming in randomly and squinting one eye to make his examination seem more realistic. Once he gave me back my phone wordlessly, I’d assumed he still wasn’t convinced. After all, our debates weren’t squashed so easily, both of us being too stubborn for our own good. Just the thought of the two of us under the same roof had my head spinning; it was a miracle we’d made it this far into our house fiasco. “Okay. Okay, maybe you’re right,” he sighed, a clear sign that it was definitely hurting his pride to admit it.

Hearing his acceptance caused a smile to break out on my face to which Marty flicked the paint chip he had been holding in my direction. It fell short a few feet, assuming I was the target, and I poked my tongue out at him, an act he returned in a second. We were two children who probably shouldn’t be given this kind of responsibility.

“So brown it is?” I confirmed, hopeful that he wouldn’t back out on it now. Otherwise, we’d be right back to square one, undecided on a paint color when all else was going smoothly.

“Brown it is.”

It had almost happened when we were both adamant on the type of pet we wanted to get.

We had moved into our house, complete with the brown bedroom walls, and it truly felt like we were finally settling down. There were still many days without Marty, days that felt empty in the place we created together, and since he was so committed to wrestling, there always would be. But knowing he would soon be back to the bed we shared was comfort enough in those silent nights of solitude.

There didn’t seem to be any issues that I could see, though apparently Marty thought otherwise when he suddenly brought it up over breakfast one morning.

“Something’s missing,” he announced, rubbing his chin in deep thought, “We need a dog, y’know, make it feel like a real family.” He didn’t make much of argument, but it was a convincing one nonetheless. A pet would solidify that sense of family and it would be nice to have some companionship when Marty was away. The only objection I had was his choice of pet.

I was a cat person my entire life. From strays I’d fed as a young girl to the kittens I’d taken in, my heart too big to ever turn down the gentle mewls and big eyes. That didn’t mean I had anything against dogs, not in the slightest, but to me, cats just made sense. Especially when they were easier to care for and Marty had a career that required frequent time from home and I had one that required plenty of time as well.

“That’d be great, actually. A pet would be great. A cat sounds like a good option for us, though,” I suggested, but something told me this wasn’t a battle I’d be winning. A paint color was one thing, but a pet was another.

He frowned, already pouting like a child, his plans diverted by my disagreement. “I want a dog,” he said simply, but he had to have known that wouldn’t be enough to convince me. We’d been through this kind of thing one too many times; it was practically a routine.

I want a cat.

And so it went back and forth like that for another ten minutes, each of us bringing up a valid point in hopes the other would finally agree. He had made such a convincing argument that I was just about willing to accept defeat, though was it really defeat? We’d end up with a really cute dog that I could cuddle with whenever I wanted, which didn’t seem like a loss at all.

“Why can’t there just be a dog cat hybrid?” Marty sighed, leaning his head against his hand, excitement deflated.

“Now that I can agree with,” I mimicked his actions. “But alright. We’ll get a dog.”

He was so stunned by my acceptance that he almost didn’t believe it, asking me to repeat it a few times as he grinned, cheering and raising his arms all the while. I knew I wouldn’t hear the end of it, especially not after we officially welcomed the new addition to our family.

But, I could deal with the bragging if it meant I would come home to the image of the two of them sprawled out on the couch together.

And it had almost happened yet again when our next task was deciding on a name for the puppy we had chosen together.

In my head, I had already thought of several names and I’d assumed there would be at least one we could agree upon. Marty, however, had other plans; he’d come up with a name himself.

“Marty, we’re not naming our dog Villain.”

While it certainly wasn’t the worst name, it definitely wasn’t the best either. I already had a handful with one villain in the house. Two seemed like an absolute nightmare.

“Why not? It’s kinda cute,” he reasoned, scratching behind the unnamed pup’s ears.

I rolled my eyes, taking a seat next to them on the couch. “You are the only villain I need,” I objected, “I’ve already got my hands full with you.”

He chuckled, pressing a kiss to my temple as he mumbled something along the lines of “maybe you’re right.”

“How about Bullet?” he tried again, hopeful that this would be the one to settle the ongoing debate. Even though I wished I could turn it down, wished I thought one of my names was better, I had to admit Bullet fit perfectly. It had a connection and still seemed to suit him. I guess I had to let Marty get his way twice in a row to make up for all those times I’d gotten mine.

“I like it,” I nodded, picking Bullet up and into my own arms, “Bullet. Suits our little guy.”

Marty’s arm came around my shoulders as I placed Bullet back on his lap; in just a few minutes, Bullet was fast asleep. “Seems like he already likes me more than you,” Marty teased, earning him a punch to the arm, careful enough not to wake the pup, “But don’t worry, you’re still my number one.”

Fluffy Fridays—Chapter 98: When I Jab You With My Sword

Fluffy Fridays—Chapter 98: When I Jab You With My Sword

Pairing:  Captain Swan

Rating: T

Summary:  A series of unrelated, fluffy one shots featuring  Killian Jones and Emma Swan and the relationship that makes us all  swoon. Will contain both canon and AU stories. My contribution to  Operation Rainbow Kisses and Unicorn Stickers (aka, my attempt to drown  out the season 4 finale angst with ridiculous levels of fluff.)

Missed the beginning? ( 1) ( 2) ( 3) ( 4) ( 5) (6) ( 7) ( 8) ( 9) ( 10) ( 11) ( 12) (13) (14) (15) (16) (17) (18) (19) (20) (21) (22) (23) (24) (25) (26) (27) (28) (29) (30) (31) (32) (33) (34) (35) (36) (37) (38) (39) (40) (41) (42) (43) (44) (45) (46) (47) (48) (49) (50) (51) (52) (53) (54) (55) (56) (57) (58) (59) (60) (61) (62) (63) (64) (65) (66) (67) (68) (69) (70) (71) (72) (73) (74) (75) (76) (77) (78) (79) (80) (81) (82) (83) (84) (85) (86) (87) (88) (89) (90) (91) (92) (93) (94) (95) (96) (97)

Tagging a few people who may be interested: @sailormew4@annaamell@flslp87@emmateo26@fleurreads @doracianstormrose@mermaidswans@bethacaciakay@ultraluckycatnd@allfangirlallthetime@effulgentcolors, @ilovemesomekillianjones@kat2609@brooke-to-broch@missgymgirl @hellomommanerd @galadriel26 @the-lady-of-misthaven@charmingturkeysandwich@jennjenn615 @laschatzi@kimmy46@snowbellewells@iamanneenigma @daxx04 @lapi-lazuli@nickillian @a-rose-for-a-savior @in-spirational @gillie@manic-pixiefangirl @britishguyslover@ginnyjinxedandhanshotritafirst@nofeels@holmes-a-holic@kmomof4 @linda8084


When I Jab You With My Sword

CS Genre: CS future fic (referencing 2x9)

Emma gripped her sword tightly, dancing lightly on the balls of her feet, mentally preparing her attack. She sized up her opponent, adrenaline pumping through her.  She couldn’t afford to fail.  Not again. Way, way too much was riding on this sword fight.

With a fierce battle cry, Emma attacked, springing forward, bringing her sword down as hard as she could. It connected with the honed steel of his blade, and Emma felt the reverberation all the way up her arm. Emma fought fiercely, calling upon all her training, all her cunning, all her physical strength, but her opponent met her blow for blow.  

Finally, in one last, desperate move, Emma used Killian’s spin and attack move.  Her muscles were screaming at her.  If this move didn’t work, she was out of options.

He anticipated her motion, easily disarming her, and she fell to the ground defeated.

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