kristján páll


lit ladies inej ghafa; what about the nobodies and the nothings, the invisible girls? we learn to hold our heads as if we wear crowns. we learn to wring magic from the ordinary. that was how you survived when you weren’t chosen, when there was no royal blood in your veins. when the world owed you nothing, you demanded something of it anyway.


pasdechat  asked:

YouRiko - breeze

Uchiura gets some serious breezes, being a city by the sea. You’s lived her whole life in Numazu, so she’s pretty used to it! Riko though–not so much. 

“You alright there, Riko?” she asks, watching Riko struggle to keep her bags in hand. They’re full of magazines and music stuff, things from Tokyo that Riko can’t find in their little stores. The wind picks up, and You rests a hand against the top of her cap, eyeing the way Riko’s hair ripples in the wind. Red hair’s pretty cool, even if it is blowing into Riko’s mouth and eyes. 

“Ptthp–I’m perfectly fine,” Riko says, spitting out strands of her own hair. She opens her mouth to say more, but a stiff breeze cuts her off. It rips a bag from her hand, glossy magazines spilling out and scattering across the ground. You bends down to gather them up.

“Oh. Woah.” Woah is the right word for it, You thinks, because these? Riko buries her face in her hands, a low, embarrassed groan gurgling from her throat. Definitely not the kind of stuff you can buy in Uchiura.

A photography exhibition entitled “Hip-Hop Revolution: Photographs by Janette Beckman, Joe Conzo and Martha Cooper” will escort viewers back in time via a nostalgia-inducing series of photographs capturing the zeitgeist of one of culture’s most decisive moments.

And while the music was undoubtedly the standout aspect of this cultural moment, the style wasn’t bad either. Bucket hats, boom boxes, gold chains, flat tops – the spirit of hip-hop wasn’t just pulsing through speaker systems, it was all over the streets.

ghostpillow  asked:

bangs my hANDS GOOD END


     something about this is just… very embarrassing. ’ 

  they’re both currently positioned in front of maxwell’s laptop screen, with yori bending down to the smaller’s level with his hands placed upon his knees; his hair smelling of hairspray & sweet smelling shampoo. maxwell snorts, blue eyes flickering from his laptop up to the taller with an un-amused stare; before he purses his lips, & playfully hits him upon the arm. 

    ‘ you’re a fuckin’ idiot if you don’t take credit for these photos. you may just be a newbie, but you already look like a fuckin’ natural. you make shampoo products look amazing, hyung. with a sigh, the younger lifts up the camera upon his lap, & nudges him back toward the set. hurry up, yeah? let’s take some more until i’m satisfied. ’ 

In which Yori manages to score a modelling job after a major score on the internet. With support and help from one of his old friends, he’s slowly beginning to build up a reputation for himself, that would eventually lead to him becoming a very well known and very popular face in magazines and billboards.