Hi, angels - as many of you may know, I regularly create themed online mixes, and love to share them with you! So, here are two of my favourite playlists that I have made: They are created for the purpose of relaxation, allowing you to disappear into a floaty, elegant world. Listen to them while soaking in a goddess bath, lounging in silk, or wandering around with a face mask on and a tall glass of champagne or ice water in your hand. And if you cannot do those things? Surely the music will make you feel as if you are.
After putting our heads together, we’ve come up with the prompts for McHanzo Week 2017! They’re listed below, plus there’s a bit more explanation and some suggestions for what you could possibly do below the cut. You can find the general rules for the week on our blog right here and anything from McHanzo Week 2016 right here.
(Truth be told, I think these are a little more unique and interesting than last year’s prompts, so hopefully you guys feel the same and get a real kick out of ‘em!)
「 THEME #014: ORIHIME by angelicxi 」 ↳ [ preview / codes ]
❥ the link to the code is in the sidebar desc.
We all have met fictional characters that stayed with us long after the initial encounter, that continue to inspire us or motivate us, sometimes in the most surprising of ways. The design for ORIHIME proves as much — drawing inspiration from the Bleach character of the same name (specifically, from her hairpins), I designed a quaint, easy-on-the-eyes theme that lets you stop & breathe. Aimed at personal and aesthetic blog types, it packs plenty customization options to truly make it your own.
[ + ] everything auto-centers;
[ + ] 500px posts;
[ + ] left & right sidebars;
[ + ] the highlight of the theme — the flower detail on the left side, which is fully customizable: you can edit the border and each petal’s colors separately (I suggest using a gradient of shades, as shown in the preview, but you can have a pride flag on there);
[ + ] a main title slot, independent of your blog title, editable via the customization panel;
[ + ] a secondary title slot, which likewise can be changed via the customization panel;
[ + ] a description slot — remember to properly wrap it in a paragraph tag;
[ + ] NB: keep in mind that as of this theme, you have an inbuilt description slot in your customization panel that is separate from tumblr’s. I chose to add it in since tumblr is so prone to glitching;
[ + ] home & ask + 3 extra links (though you can manually add more);
[ + ] the sidebar text shadow can be turned on/off;
[ + ] plain color background option;
[ + ] texture/pattern background option;
[ + ] gradient background option;
[ + ] full wallpaper background option (don’t fret about size, I’ve set it to cover). tip: tumblr is, as previously stated, very glitchy. in order for all the on/off options to work right, turn everything off first, and then turn on those that you want active.
「 PLEASE LIKE / REBLOG IF USING. 」 Do NOT:
— remove the credit
— use as a base code
— repost/claim as yours
Respect the maker’s work, please. This theme is optimized for Mozilla Firefox & Google Chrome. It is best viewed on a 1366x768 screen resolution.
On their first day of junior High, Robert sat Jace and Alec down as a nursing Maryse watched over an excitable Izzy picking out her first day outfit.
“You’re both men now,” he intoned, eyes flickering over both his sons—one whom had inherited all his striking angles, and dark mop of hair, and then Jace. The orphan he and Maryse had adopted only a few years prior. Jace who sometimes finds himself staring at the mirror in his room, cursing his fair hair and mismatched eyes. Cursing the painfully physical reminder that he’ll never truly be considered a Lightwood, that he’ll always be the boy who disappointed his birth father over and over again. The boy who had his falcon murdered because he has no idea how to divide love from subserviency. The boy who was so unwanted that his mother died while giving birth to him, and who his father despised ever since.
Jace will always be marred with the title of Wayland—never a Lightwood.
“You boys need to take care of each other and your baby sister and brother.”
“I know that dad,” Alec sniffed with an imperious tilt of his dark head.
“Alright, alright, no harm in the reminder Alexander. I just want you both to keep on being true, alright? Always remember that strength is not found in the force behind our fists, but the dignity of our character. Right?”
“So much for we break noses and accept the consequences,” Alec snorts before their father playfully grinds his knuckles into his scalp.
Jace forces himself to laugh, and pretends that he didn’t see the sheen in Robert’s eyes that he and Maryse always seem to get whenever they so much as glide over Jace’s less than pristine past, a past of abuse and neglect by his birth parent.
Simon Lewis is everything bombastic effervescence, and cheeky grins that rival the incandescent rays of light that dance over his chocolate eyes, and make them sparkle in a way that snatches the breath right from Jace’s lungs.
Jace thinks that he might be slightly fucked when their teacher swings off the year by conducting one of the arbitrary, ice breakers that they always seem to be forced into, and Jace is partnered with sunlight personified.
“My favorite color’s blue, my favorite superhero is Spider-man, cause duh, and baseball ’s the best and only sport that I’ll actually sit down and watch.” Simon crows without even a breath between words just as soon as Jace plops down in front of him in the small desk—forcing their knees to brush up against each other every few minutes or so.
“Baseball? Like the slowest sport in the history of ever?” Jace deadpans, brows craned and the corner of his mouth tugging up in a small smile.
“I like the atmosphere, and peanuts.” Simon sulks, his face scrunched up sourly—and honest, it should’ve been Jace’s first sign that Simon was it for him when he found the expression cute over anything else.
“Yeah, well I like Italian food but you don’t see me embedding myself into the nearest mob.”
“M’kay, one I’m pretty sure that’s borderline offensive, and two totally not leveled playing fields. You’re comparing a weekend at Fenway, to waking up with a dead horse nuzzling your neck.”
“I dunno,” Jace gives a one armed shrug. “Sounds pretty equal levels of terribleness too me.”
Simon’s eyes sharpen, impressed, and Jace can’t help the swell of pride in his chest over the development.
“I bet Peeta would not even try recruiting you.”
“Yeah, well they also end up killing thousands upon thousands of the animals they claim to be saving on a yearly basis—can’t say that I’m too broken hearted over the thought. And hey, wasn’t your assumption that the mob actually slices up poor, defenseless horsies borderline offensive towards their organization?”
Simon barks out a laugh, and Jace thinks he is in serious danger of drowning in the color of his irises.
They sit besides each other for the remainder of that year.
“And that is when the conquistadors first infiltrated the Mayan land,” professor Herondale intones, seemingly completely oblivious to how half her class is about to keel over in boredom at her Ken Berns like monotone.
Jace is jolted out of his daydreams of actually making the baseball team when a crumpled up piece of paper smacks him in the forehead.
He cuts a menacing snarl towards where Simon is dutifully sketching in his paper pad, the slightest of leers playing on the edges of his lips. Jace doesn’t open the ball for another five minutes, just to be contrary, and is rewarded by increasingly peeved off gestures Simon directs his way over Maia’s head, who in turn just sighs—long suffering—and lodges a pen to Jace’s temple.
“Fucking hell,” Jace rubs over the tender spot while reading Simon’s note.
More borderline offensive, Prof Herondale trying to pronounce Spanish names, or the Asian neighbor from Breakfast At Tiffanies?
Jace pretends he isn’t so totally giddy while he scrawls back a counter.
They’re not best friends, not really. Simon will always have the spindly redhead that he declares as his plutonic soulmate, and Jace would never bestow that title on anyone but Alec and all his surliness.
So no, Jace and Simon are most definitely not best friends…But sometimes Jace is convinced that they must be more than just ordinary friends too.
Simon’s the only person Jace wants to be around on the anniversary of his father’s death—The lightwoods are all always so unsure on how to act, whether to ignore it considering he’s a proven, abusive monster, or to try and bring up the idea of therapy to Jace once more. What they never seem to understand is that no matter all of that horrendous shit that Valentine had put Jace through, he was still his father. He made him spaghetti when he was sick, and bought him all the books he could ever want, and he was there (Which is sure a whole hell of a lot more than what most kids could say about their fathers.) So what if he wasn’t exactly a Robert Lightwood, or Adon Lewis—He was Jace’s dad.
Simon’s at least ignorant to the whole mess—he still sees Jace as some chill dude that he actually likes hanging out with, and not the broken boy that he had to save. It’s a nice feeling.
And for his part, Simon seems to search for only Jace’s company when he wants to string together his fantasies of the future. When he buoyantly explains his intentions of becoming a detective just like his father, because he loves solving riddles and helping the people who can’t help themselves.
Jace thinks he’s brilliant, but doesn’t tell Simon so, less it exposes his ever growing attraction.
Jace is listening to Simon recite the section of the Torah that he’s incorporated into his Bar Mitzvah’s speech, ready to help out if Simon forgets any words. But really, Jace’s much busier marveling over the round vowels and lyrical cadences of Simon’s voice speaking out loud the foreign words, over actually detecting him stammering over anything.
“You’re amazing—Ah, erm your speech…It’s amazing. You’re gunna do fantastic.”
“You think?” Simon’s smile radiates everything Jace wishes he had. He’s warmth, and beauty, and brightness through every layer, all rolled up into one perfect package. Jace thinks it was a daft mistake that Simon’s still here—friends with him—but a selfish, self indulgent part of him relishes that he is.
“Thanks for all your help goldilocks,” Simon squeezes Jace’s hand, and Jace swears his mind melts right out of his head.
They stand their for another moment—or hour—longer, until Jace cuffs to defuse the static in the air, before he does something really dumb, like kiss Simon.
“More borderline offensive, you fucking up your pronunciation or our parents trying to get everyone to do the Hokey Pokey?”
Simon shutters with a grimace. “Please no jokes, I still remember how my mom almost took out our neighbor’s eye during Beck’s ceremony while dancing the Macarena.”
Jace is pretty sure that he only genuinely laughs when with Simon.