FYI, “Mademoiselle” is very sheer. I love it, but it’s not much different than a really good basecoat treatment. “Sugar Daddy” is my favourite for a sheer that’s pinker than natural but still really subtle. “Hi Maintenance” is less pink but a little more opaque. I don’t have my notes from the last time I went through them, and I haven’t in about a year and a half, but those three are my favourites and I like sheer pinks best and Essie best in case that helps.
omg you had NOTES you were uniquely prepared for this question :D
One of your old friends from high school, Hercules, had just gotten back in touch with you after finding out you were both working for the same clothing company. You soon fell back into your old rhythm and were fast friends. Eventually he saw fit to introduce you to some of his friends.
Alex, you knew through another friend of yours, Eliza, and John had gone to the same high school as you guys (though you hadn’t been as friendly with him as you had been with Herc). Lafayette was the only one you had yet to meet, and lord did you wish it had only happened sooner.
Those words buzzed inside Lena’s head for a long, long time. For a short time, she had stopped being the happy, energetic Tracer the world has known her for. She still did her work and did it superbly, but something within her had changed. She didn’t do it for the people as she once would have. No, she did it for revenge.
Of course, those feelings slowly began to dissipate. Lena always thirsted for revenge, but she realized that wasn’t the path she wanted to choose. She was a hero, she had to act like one. Slowly, but surely, the old Lena Oxton began to return.
Then the Overwatch headquarters blew up.
It was all a blur, something that had happened much too fast for even herself to keep track of, but in such a short time everything she had worked for and everything she knew had vanished. Commander Morrison was dead, Overwatch was dismantled and its members scattered to the vast regions of the planet.
What could Lena do when such a terrible thing had happened? The answer was simple: Keep fighting.
And she did, she fought year after year against anyone she had to. Thugs on the street, the occasional villain with powers they had somehow acquired, even Talon every now and then. It had turned into something normal for her, her new life. Yet this wasn’t meant to be because once more everything was turned upside down, but for the better. Winston made the recall and Lena finally, after years and years of searching, found Amelie.
“Looks like the party is over,” Widowmaker had said, smirking, her skin purple. No longer the person Lena had once loved. No, now she was a monster. Murdering such a good soul in public, and countless others too.
That’s why Lena was here, at Winston’s little home, ready to head out again.
“Lena, you’re not ready to-”
“Do you have her located?” The Brit cut in, putting on her recently repaired chronal accelerator. Winston sighed.
“Yes, but you’re in no condition to go after her.”
“You didn’t see her like I did, big guy,” Lena murmured, her eyes filling with anguish. “They turned her into a monster. She killed Mondatta and was proud of it.” She took a deep breath, turning to face her hairy companion before he could complain. “Before Amelie left, the real Amelie, she asked me one thing.”
“To…kill her?” He questioned hesitantly.
“Yes, and now I know why. Winston, I…I can’t let Widowmaker get away. For Amelie, and for others.”
“I understand,” He huffed. “But you don’t need to do it alone.”
“I have to!” Lena yelled, balling her fists and clenching her teeth. “I’m not waiting for Helix Security, or the FBI or some rubbish to put her in jail! Or- Or experiment on her! I’m going to fulfill Amelie’s final wish.”
She took a deep breath then turned towards the exit.
“I’m going to kill her.”
//////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////// A few hours later she had arrived. Talon must have been planning Mondatta’s murder for awhile because the base Tracer had found was relatively small and the people here seemed in a hurry to leave. Lena was observing them from a hill, hidden in the darkness of the night. The base itself was a bunker of sorts built straight into the hill across from her. They must not have expected spies because the front entrance was wide open.
Now was her chance.
Lena had never gone so fast in her entire life, and that was saying a lot. The normal neon blue streak that normally followed her wasn’t there, she was just too fast for anyone to even see that. Her pistols lit up and enemies began to fall. One, two, three, five, eight, ten. All dead. Lena paused a moment, reloaded, and then blinked out of incoming fire. The enemy looked around with panic and confusion, falling one by one to their seemingly invisible attacker.
Lena had never been faster and she had never felt duller. The only things that ravaged her mind were anger and sadness. Yes, she was here to kill Widowmaker once and for all. But these people, Talon, were responsible for all this. If only they would all die.
The Brit clenched her teeth, appearing in front of one man and mowing him down, blinking into another and knocking him to the ground, then above a third and kicking him in the face. She turned to see more had assembled by a truck. Her face must have been more severe than even she realized because they all faltered, one nearly dropping his gun.
“What are you idiots doing?” The squad leader yelled, raising his rifle. “Fire!”
In a split second Tracer noticed the red barrel by the truck. She blinked forward, dodging the bullets, fired once into the barrel and then recalled back away. The entire truck exploded and engulfed the enemy soldiers in a fiery inferno. Lena was breathing hard, quite tired. She looked around and, with a shock, realized they were all dead. Nobody else outside here was alive.
Lena moved her head an inch to the left, letting a bullet pass so close to her head she felt the wind it created. She’d recognize the sound of that rifle anywhere. It was her, Widowmaker. Lena turned around to see the woman perched on a catwalk right at the entrance of the bunker, her face as calm as ever. The trigger was pulled again but Lena easily side-stepped the bullet. Even Widowmaker couldn’t match her reaction time, her pure speed.
“Time to end this,” Lena murmured, holstering her pistols.
She clenched her fists, grit her teeth and then dashed straight towards the sniper. A split second later the two women were a rolling mess. One over the other, the two of them fighting for control of the rifle. Finally, they stopped. Widowmaker on top of Lena, her beautiful face looking frustrated and perhaps even confused.
“You are a foolish girl,” The widow hissed, her arms shaking in an attempt to overpower Lena.
“Yeah, you’re right,” She agreed. “I should’ve killed you years ago. Just like you wanted, Amelie.”
“That was is dead!” Widowmaker snarled.
“And soon you’ll join her!” Lena replied, just as angry.
She used both her feet and firmly kicked Widowmaker off of her. The woman rolled back and onto her feet, eyes narrowing at Tracer who simply tossed the rifle away, off the catwalk. Their eyes met and, much to Widowmaker’s surprise, Lena was tearing up.
“Quoi…?” She murmured, letting her guard down for one second.
Lena sprung into action, she blinked forward and tackled Widowmaker to the ground. One punch, two punches, three punches. White hot pain traveled through the widow’s face before she grabbed Lena’s fist, then the other, both their arms shaking as they tried to overpower the other.
“Why did you come?” Widowmaker questioned, clenching her teeth.
“To keep my promise, Amelie, don’t you remember?” She whispered back.
All of a sudden, yes, she did remember. It was like a short flashback but Widowmaker could remember her first task. It was as clear as the sky on a summer day. She was on the roof, ready to escape when Lena had caught up to her. She was worried, oh so worried, and Amelie had made one final plea.
If you love me, then next time we meet you must do me a favor. You must kill me.
Goodbye, mon Cherie.
Widowmaker was whipped back to the present. She hadn’t realized how, or when, but her arms had gone limp and Lena was pointing a single pistol at the assassin’s head. Widowmaker stared into the other’s eyes, and she saw nothing but sad determination.
“I remember…that night,” Widowmaker murmured. “I did tell you to kill me.” “I finally understood why last night, when you killed Mondatta,” Lena whispered, tears falling down her cheeks. “Amelie would never do that. She’s gone.”
“Do it,” Widowmaker whispered, leaning up and pressing her forehead against the weapon.
Lena’s arm fell down, so did her face, she began sobbing.
“I loved you, Amelie,” She said between sobs. “God I loved you.”
“I know, cherie, I know.”
Slowly, the widow wrapped her arms around Lena. The Brit didn’t hesitate, she embraced Widowmaker and began crying on her shoulder. It was all too much, she couldn’t do this, she couldn’t possibly do this. It was just too much, she loved this woman.
“I’m sorry, Lena Oxton,” Widowmaker whispered into her ear.
Suddenly, a river of pain filled Lena’s side as Widowmaker drove a sharp piece of scrap metal into it. Lena’s mouth opened in silent agony, unable to pull out of the widow’s deadly embrace. She could feel one hand softly stroke her hair.
“It’ll all be over soon, Lena,” Widowmaker said.
“I love you, Amelie,” Lena choked out.
Those were her final words.
Widowmaker had imagined killing this nuisance a thousand times, she had been waiting years for this moment, she had expected to relish in it. Her finest kill. Yet, when she finally pulled the improvised weapon out of the Brit’s body, when she finally felt her heart stop beating, when she finally knew the deed was done…she finally felt something. An emotion in her emotionless heart.
“Oh no…no no no no no,” She kept repeating, over and over again. Her head now had a splitting headache. She groaned in pain. “Lena, Lena I’m sorry, i-it wasn’t me. Sil vous plait, Lena, they made me."
Now it was Amelie’s turn to cry, clinging to the body of her dead lover.
May I request Naruto/Shino (and maybe Kakashi? idk I can't decide) with a s/o who has OCD or severe Germaphobia headcanons sil-vous-plait?
ah, oui-oui, ma cheri ;D (also i dont have severe ocd or germaphobia so please forgive if these aren’t accurate :o)
- He leaves his house in such disarray, that it’s more than hard core workout to keep the place shipshape. Naruto knows you have OCD, so he tries not to leave it entirely messy. It’s not easy for him, but he does make an effort.
- In terms of germaphobia, he tries to help with the dirtier side of the cleaning whenever he can get a break. Sometimes he leaves a clone at the office to help you clean. However, since he’s not doing it “right”, you usually tell him off, that you’ll get it in a moment, but he does clean the toilet and the bathtub for you so that you can relax.
- You have a routine for yourself, get up, sheets to the right of you, slippers on, etc. Most people would think that it’s very time consuming, but it works for you, so you don’t bother to change it.
- You guys tend not to handhold too often, and while he loves handholding, he can make do with hugging you from behind, trying not to make you feel too uncomfortable.
- Honestly, I headcanon Shino as someone who has OCD as well, so that part comes really easy to him. However, when he finds out just how severe it is with you, he does what he can to make sure that it doesn’t affect you do harshly.
- While he understands your germaphobia, he still yearns for the day where he can hold your hand without you getting too uncomfortable. If it means he has to wear gloves, that’s what he’ll do. However, he’ll grow attached to the gloves saying “They complete how I look.” He claims the gloves are for his aesthetic purposes. You end up laughing to the point where the germaphobia turns into such a minuscule thing that you find yourself inching closer and closer to him, holding his hand. He does bring it up, asking you if you’re comfortable with doing so. For a moment, it all seems so small and you bask in it as long as you can before drawing yourself away.
- Much like you, Shino has his own routine, and thus, he knows better than to butt in and ask if you need assistance. If you look like you’re really struggling, yeah, he’s going to ask, and if you say no, that you’re fine, he’ll still do the little things to help you out.
(bonus, since you asked so nicely, ma cheri)
- Kakashi doesn’t have OCD, but he does try to understand what that means. He tries to keep the house in as clean a state as possible and tries not to interfere with what you’re trying to do. He remembers exactly where you put things, makes sure nothing looks too out of place. He does things for you, and honestly, he’s just too lazy to remember to tell you that he did these things.
- He’s not all that into hand holding himself, and while he doesn’t have germaphobia, he knows what it’s like, somewhat, to get that sinking feeling that you’re utterly uncomfortable touching someone else. Sex is one thing, generally romantic things like, hugging or hand holding set him off a little bit. However, if either of you want a hug, it’s a separate matter, of course, one party asking the other first. Arms around the waist are a huge “no” until either of you are much more comfortable with each other.
- Kakashi doesn’t really sleep, so, when either of you are living together, it’s a tad more difficult to get into a routine where he’s not accidentally messing anything up. You two eventually find it, and he’s more than happy to make sure that your life is nice and calm.
(covering his ears) WHAT WAS THAT? SO YOU GUYS MEANT TO TELL ME THAT YOU *AREN'T* GETTING TOGETHER AND THAT YOU PROBABLY *WON'T* BE HOOKING UP UNTIL I FIND SOMEONE BEFORE YOU GUYS IS THAT RIGHT? YES? OKAY, GLAD WE HAD THIS TALK.
I'm sorry if I don't seem like I'm excited but it's hard to do over something I knew for a *very* long time...
You two totally deserve each other! And I don't mean that in the good way! Ha ha!
Does this mean I have to get a girlfriend too now?
(Melodramatically crying) I'm just *sniff* so happy that even *sniff* someone as hopeless as Ash *sniff* can find someone! *sniff* And it's all thanks to my hard work! *sniff* Miracles do happen. *sniff* And I'm the miracle worker.
(whispering) If she ever asks for us to go on a double date, please say no.
(Motioning to May) Will you guys please adopt me?
(After laughing for two minutes) I'm sorry, this is just, this is just, too much for me, I'm just... really happy Ash found some- (breaks into laughter again) Ow, my stomach is starting to hurt.
You're telling me this, why? No, this isn't rhetorical. Why are you telling me this? I demand an explanation.
Still doesn't prove anything. You're still a kid.
WATER AND LIGHTNING. THE TWO ANTIPODAL ELEMENTS OF NATURE THAT FREQUENTLY ARE AT ODDS WITH ONE ANOTHER, CONJOINED IN A PERFECT UNION WITH A TASTE SO VIOLENT AND TRANQUIL AND-
So you guys didn't say sil vous plait? Well I guess it's back to the drawing board...
Can you guys adopt Bonnie so she can stop doing this?
I'M SORRY FOR SCREAMING SO LOUD. YOU'RE ASKING ME WHY I SCREAMED? IT WAS A SCREAM OF... HAPPINESS. YES, HAPPINESS. AM I BEING LOUD STILL?
notes: the worst thing about you sending this all in on anon is i can’t be half as annoying as i want to be. i say this because i have a very good idea i know who sent these in
On Sundays, your neighbors go to church. They get into the car, dressed in their finest, and the van door always catches when the little girl tries to go in. The mother laughs at every bad joke her son makes, and the father starts the engine.
They’re a nice family.
You’d almost dare to say that they’re perfect, because at least on Sundays they step outside together. At least on Sundays, they’re a functional family that thrives off of terrible puns and “Bethany, tie your shoes before you try to go anywhere” and buys tacos on their way home.
Your family - not so much.
But that’s fine. You’re fine, your mother’s fine, your father’s fine, your stepbrother’s fine, your stepfather’s fine, your stepbrother’s dying goldfish that he overfeeds because he’s six and young and ignorant is fine, and everyone’s fine fine fine -
You first hear his voice when your water boils, Earl Gray teabag in hand.
Girl, I'm sorry but I gotta get Validation™ from you and ask for a 🌞 sun man, sil vous plait, пажалуйста, please? (sorry I'm tired and running on like 2 hours sleep so I feel a bit weird ~~thank fuck for autocorrect, eh?~~)
thats okay phoenix !! ahh i dont understnad the other languages but it means “please, you are welcome” according to google translate?! lmfao go get some sleep my love u need it <3 who needs auto when everything is a typo
what about the s boys finding out their daughter lost her virginity
Shu - …Didn’t he warn you about this kind of thing… (at the behest of his lover, but still)? …Bring over the boy, now.
Reiji - Hahaha, not a smart move. Boyyyyyy, the punishments… He taught you to be more ladylike than this and not fall subject to such lewd desires.
Ayato - Wait? Which boy? Who? He is going to kill him, touching his little girl. Ore-sama is the only man supposed to be in her life dammit-
Laito - While he would feel protective over you, he isn’t really in the place to say anything to you… However, the boy might have a ‘chat’ with him.
Kanato - He has no interest in the subject as long as she was careful. He doesn’t want another rat in the house.
Subaru - Tch, who’s the guy? Do you love him, does he love you back, you wanted it right? He would be a bit of a protective, even a worried mess, but if you would assure him, he would ask to meet the guy (and perhaps make sure he will treat you perfect with a few threats).
Kino - Make lots and lots and looooooooots of minions, sil vous plait, por favor, please, jesus, he needs that army- Although, he might be… protective of who she did it with (he needs only the best minions after all and he still has some fatherly instinct damn it!).
Arthur was wrongly sent to an Asylum by his father. An Asylum with medieval treatments that looked more like torture than a proper medical treatments. But in the middle of a fight to keep his sanity, Arthur met Francis. Now he needed to escape with Francis from that hellhole.
Rating: Suitable for teens, 13 years and older
Warnings: Mild references to torture, TERRIBLLY WRONG treatments (that should never exist), Angsty and Major Character Death. And Engrishi is not my first language (I tried very hard, and I hope that I didn’t make too much mistakes ._.)
imagine their junior team going up to montreal for their march break because hey, where is it easier for a group of dumb 17 yr olds to get alcohol poisoning and go clubbing than in montreal
jack is like ~whatever we’re doing this is guess. he doesnt like clubs but he figures if they get bottle service he can just sit in the booth all night helping himself to the overpriced vodka.
kent is fucked up by association and really not in a good place tm but he cant tell anyone, especially not jack, because hes the one whos supposed to keep it, keep them, keep jack, together. so hes drinking and taking whatever pills jack offers him. when the boys suggest clubbing, he says sure.
theyre walking down st laurant, on their way to club muzique (ofc they are) when jack asks kent “wanna get out of here?”
they head to the belle province (”a culinary institution,” jack says with the hint of a smile) they passed a little while ago. kent hates himself for being enamoured of the colloquial way jack orders (” ouais uh, 4
steamé all dressed, deux graisseuses pis uh, deux pepsi sil vous plait ) but then again, he accepted that a long time ago that he would always be a little in awe and a little in love with everything jack did.
when theyre done eating their hot dogs and fries, jack seems to be in a good mood and says “hey, ive got an idea, let’s go”
they walk down side streets until they reach a big grassy park on the side of a hill. jack starts heading for trees leading up the hill when kent asks where the hell he’s going.
“chill, there’s a trail. just- trust me” he puts his hand out for kent to take.
“ok,” kent says, and takes it.
“it’s three thirty in the goddamn morning and we’re climbing up the goddamn mount royal,” kent says a little while later, after tripping on a rock or tree root for the fourth time.
“stop whining kenny,” jack says, almost laughing
they reach the top just before dawn. they sit down on the closest bench to the edge in the observation area. jacks leans his head against kents shoulder. kent puts his arm around jack and entwines his fingers in his hair. from where they are, they can see the whole city.
“we’re at the top of the fucking world, zimms,”
they watch the sunrise and kent feels bad for wishing he could stay there forever.
if theres a heaven, this is it he thinks ,
i love you, he thinks.
“its like that stupid smiths song,” he says instead.