#featuring our favourite angry french girl

[staardustkisses]

in honour of my birthday today, here’s some memes that i made cause i saw the posts and immediately got An Idea

[politics-notmything]

We fell in love in November

YEah, we back at it with another one shot... I don’t normally write these but after my recent post and the Parrlyn discord, now could I not 👀 Anyway, this took wayyyyyy longer than i thought it would - Part 15 of She Used to be mine is out tomorrow :)  

Tw- implied nudity (nothing over PG-13), bad language, coming out. 

The euphoria Cathy Parr felt around Anne Boleyn was extravagant. Even now when they lie in bed together trying to come down from their high, Cathy still felt energised. The writer rolled over to face her girlfriend, with the bedsheets pulled up to her neck and subtly smiled. Cathy ran her left hand through the Boleyn girl’s hair and cupped her cheek with the other.

“You look so beautiful,” Anne opened her eyes and grinned when she met with Cathy’s.

“As are you.” she simply replied as she moved forward to tenderly kiss her girlfriend. No one could’ve expected that Catherine Parr and Anne Boleyn would become a thing in their second life. Heck, they didn’t even know they had the possibility of a second life! Anne paused their kiss and Cathy looked unexpectedly at her gremlin, “You should tell Aragon.” 

The moment was ruined. 

Cathy tensed as she sat up, pulling the duvet with her and laughing when she pulled too hard, so Anne was left bare, “What?” 

“I said-” Anne smirked as she deliberately rolled onto Cathy’s chest, making her blush, “You should tell Aragon.”

“What if I don’t want to tell Aragon…” Cathy whispered, not looking away from Anne’s eyes.

“You can look at my tits, Cath, I don't mind.” 

“ANNE!” Cathy profusely blushed and shoved the Boleyn girl to the side, 

Anne snickered and pulled the writer into a cuddle, “It isn’t like you haven’t seen them before.” 

“But seriously,” Cathy hummed when she went back to being serious, “I don’t want to tell my godmother, she might not like it.” 

“But she came to pride last year and threw confetti at that proposing gay couple?” 

“That’s different. Not only am I her goddaughter, but I’m also dating the woman who stole her crown.” 

“Yeah, I feel a little guilty for that,” Anne confessed.

“You shouldn’t. ‘Lina isn’t mad about it now because we know you were forced to do it,” Cathy snuffled closer, “but it still doesn’t change history.” 

“She’s family Cath. I told Kat, now you should tell Aragon.” Anne gently kissed Cathy’s curls before removing her grip around the writer’s waist, allowing her to go downstairs. 

“I might.” Cathay smiled as she grabbed her underwear and a towel from Anne’s floor, “I love you.” 

“I love you too, Cath.” 

Both queens had been dating for a significant amount of time, and their story started when they ‘accidentally’ made out in Cathy’s dressing room after Anne trapped them for an hour. After that, there had been a series of confessions, secret glances and planning from both parties, so they didn’t come across as suspicious. Then, once they felt ready, Anne told Katherine who has been a useful distraction when the lovers want some alone time. 

One of the first things Catherine proposed was developing small ‘habits’ that the others would believe. For example, Anne was known to sleep in, so they both took advantage of that when Cathy would sneak out of her room and cuddle Anne in the early morning before heading downstairs for breakfast. Another trick was when Cathy ran out of coffee and needed to take a last-minute trip to Tescos. Anne would always hide the coffee and midnight then plan a Tescos trip the next day when Cathy would happen to tag along. 

And it worked surprisingly well. 

“Morning Mija.” Catalin de Aragon was at the head of the kitchen table, reading a novel and drinking tea, alone. 

Cathy walked over to her coffee machine, “Morning ma, where is everyone?” 

“They decided to go on a walk. Katherine said something about trees helping you live longer,” 

Cathy suppressed a laugh, Anne...

“Yeah, I read that too.” 

“Of course, in our second lives, no one wants to take any chances!” Aragon continued, oblivious, “Knowing Kat, she probably just wanted to look at the dogs.” 

Catherine picked her fingernails, and her stomach churned over, “Can I confess something?”

“Of course…” Her godmother removed her reading glasses and gestured for Cathy to take a seat. 

“I’ve been seeing someone,” A beat, “romantically.” 

The confession slipped out and jumping the first hurdle was surprisingly easy, but unfortunately, it wasn’t as straightforward as that. 

The godmother corrected her posture and licked her lips, “Oh? For how long?” 

“About 4 months.” 

“And you never told me?” 

“I didn’t think it was necessary,” Cathy replied, sheepishly. 

While Catherine may not be her mother, it didn’t change how she acted like one. One of Cathy’s strongest memories was when Aragon comforted her every night after she was reincarnated.

“What’s his name?” 

Another hurdle appeared that Cathy had to somehow jump over - the gay hurdle. 

“He’s a she.” Catherine wouldn’t say she was scared of her godmother, but she certainly valued her approval and beliefs. 

The Spaniard paused to think this over before leaning back in her chair, closing her eyes, and smiling. The smile grew, and a flower of hope blossomed in the Survivor’s chest. Aragon then opened her arms for Cathy to hug her, and the writer reacted all too quickly. 

“I’m happy you felt comfortable enough to tell me.” 

“Does this mean you’re okay with this?” Cathy mumbled into her shoulder, 

“Of course Mija! Now, who is she?” 

“Okay, okay” Cathy could burst with excitement! Even though her godmother didn’t know it was Anne, Cathy could still describe her lover in perfect detail. “She has dark brown hair, which has a subtle wave at the end. She is pretty pale, so her freckles stand out but her cheeks are always red because she is somehow always blushing!” Cathy continued to gush, “Her eyes are grey, but they change with the light, and her favourite colour is green-”

“You told Aragon yet?” Anne Boleyn leaned in the doorway with a giant smirk on her face, “or are you just going to keep describing my facial features?” 

Silence. 

Anne stopped as she realised what she’d said. 

Cathy looked between Anne and her godmother. She loved the gremlin, but she really needs to learn to read a situation.

Aragon stood and looked between Anne and Cathy. Her brain slowly puts the puzzle together in an organised fashion. The hair, the skin, the freckles, the blush, the eyes and finally, the favourite colour. 

The history hurdle. 

The grinding of Cathy’s chair against the kitchen floor wasn’t enough to pierce the tension between the 1st and 2nd queen. The writer took Anne’s hand, and cautiously walked her over to her godmother. 

“Anne, this is my Godmother. Ma, this is-” 

“I know who Anne is.” Catherine’s voice was a deadly monotone. 

The awkwardness had obviously got to the Boleyn girl who proceeded to bite her lip as she glanced around the room, eyeing the wall tiles with great curiosity. 

“Boleyn.” Anne’s head snapped back to the situation as the Spanish queen addressed her. “Are you dating my goddaughter?” 

“Well-” Anne didn’t know what to say, and thankfully, Catherine didn’t want to hear it. 

“Catherine Mary Parr.” Cathy flinched at the use of her full name. 

“Your middle name is mary?” Anne tentatively asked before Aragon shut her off. 

“Are you dating the woman who stole my husband?” 

“Well, when you put it like that…” Cathy trailed off as her godmother rubbed her temple. 

“After all these years?” Aragon tried so hard to keep her composure, she really did. But some situations are just too much. “No puedo creerlos a los dos!” 

“I can’t fucking believe you both.” Cathy translated. 

“Después de todo lo que hago por ti,” The Spaniard flung her arms around, “así es como me pagas?!”

“After everything, I’ve done for you, this is how you repay me?” 

“Mierda, mierda, mierda, odio a los malditos franceses!” She turned to Cathy “Te estas follando ella?” 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, I hate the fucking french, and I verbally can’t repeat the final phrase.” 

“Are you?” ‘Lina demanded to know the answer.

“sí señorita.” Cathy’s reply was quick and timid.

Catherine turned to Anne, “First, you stole my husband, then you stole my crown, and now you steal my goddaughter?!” 

“Oh, I stole more than that from her,” Anne winked at Cathy who couldn’t hold her laugh as she remembered the recent events. She buried her head in the Boleyn girl’s shoulder to try and stifle it. Forgetting all about the angry Spaniard, Anne kissed the top of Cathy’s curls and smiled fondly down at her. 

That wasn’t normal. Catherine of Aragon knew how Anne Boleyn worked when it came to a relationship. She would look at her target with a seductive smirk and a classic wink, she would follow them around before leading them out the room in the dark and alone. Anne Boleyn would destroy families and ruin a country. Manipulate the king and destroy the church, but she would never look at someone with such value. 

In all the years Catherine had been alive she has never seen Anne Boleyn blush as much as she did now or look at someone with so much compassion and… love? 

“No me importa que seas gay” Aragon finally sighed. 

Cathy swiftly removed her head from Anne’s shoulder to translate, “I don’t care that you are gay.” 

“And I shouldn't care who you date either.” Catalina looked at the interlocked fingers. “Forgive me for being so crude, it was a shock.” 

“It was a shock to me too!” Anne quipped but received a slap from Cathy. 

“I apologise for my use of language too, it was-”

“Descriptive?” Cathy finished. 

“Extremely.” It was still a little awkward between the trio, but ‘Lina was determined to settle things, “I just want you to know that I accept you both as family and as lovers.” 

“Thank you, ma.” 

“I really appreciate it.” 

“Now, I know the others will be getting back soon so we should really get started on breakfast.” 

“Let me reheat your coffee, babe.” Anne carefully took the mug from Cathy, who whispered a ‘thank you.’ 

“I have to admit,” Aragon cleared her space on the table and handed her goddaughter the placemats, “You make a pretty good couple.” 

“Right?!” Anne beamed with delight,

“Does anyone else know?” Catherine continued, 

“Only Katherine and you. We both wanted to keep it on the down-low, but Anne said I should tell you because you’re family.” Cathy explained.

“Well, I’m glad you told me, even if it took some convincing. And know that I’m here for the both of you if anyone tries anything!” 

“We’re back!” The younger cousin’s voice echoed off the walls, and she bounced into the kitchen to see Cathy kissing Anne’s cheek as she was handed her mug and ‘Lina placing the apple juice on the table. 

“Did the air work?” Cathy asked Kitty as she took her seat next to Anne around the table,

“I feel younger already!” 

“I’m definitely going to be immortal by the end of the century.” Anna threw her hoodie over the back of her chair and poured herself some apple juice as Jane finally walked in. 

Once everyone was sat, Anne nodded at Kat from across the table and tried to suppress and smile as Cathy subtly linked their arms together. A small gesture of affection which had humungous meaning.

[rochey1010]

Clip 6 S3E2

Ok so context of the clip is that Eliott and Lucas have now arrived at Eliott's. Eliott tells Lucas to make himself at home. He leaves the room as Lucas takes his scarf off and looks at some of his drawings. Eliott comes back with the beer box and 2 seperate bottles. He asks Lucas if he wants to drink. Lucas accepts and they then start conversing. Lucas draws attention to the wall of drawings especially the raccoon. Eliott says that's him but he's gotten better at drawing himself now. Lucas mistakes the raccoon for a badger and teases Eliott having a spirit animal. Eliott says that raccoons are cool and wear a mask.

Lucas now intrigued asks Eliott if he were to draw him, what would he draw him as? Eliott and he stare at each other and then Eliott tells him he's not sure, he'd need to think about it. Lucas then pulls out weed and offers to smoke. Eliott takes it delighted.

So my thoughts about this clip is that out of all the Evaks this is the version where you can't mistake this as just a friendly hangout. I remember watching Evak in OG and seeing how it could be misconstrued early on that Isak could be the one with the crush, as the hangout can really pass for 2 friends chilling with weed and music. But these 2?? Holy crap, from the moment they enter that appartment there is no subtlety, and the flirting is blatant. They give zero fucks about friendship vibes. It's plain as day they want each other. 😏 Everything they say to each other has this underlying sexual tension. Their chemistry is insane. 🔥 We get direct eyefucking and them matching each other every time. It's like watching tennis with the dynamic. One will hit it forward, and then the other will hit it back, each never missing a step. At times Lucas is audacious and confident, and at others Eliott switches with him. 😍 And interestingly the POLARIS symbolism at play here again, as Eliott took Lucas home to his world but it's not dark yet. More like evening is approaching and day is straddling night. So that equality in the dynamic really shows.

I loved that we saw the artistic side of Eliott. Especially the choices the show created for Eliott to debut his art. 🎨 We first saw the very meaningful POLARIS. And now we see the spirit animals and how he represents himself through them. We see the cute but vulnerable raccoon. We see the more cheeky raccoon in the forest climbing the tree happy. We see the more sad raccoon looking lost in a kinda darkness with the very telling harsh line strokes, like a chaotic tormented vibe (La Petite Ceinture bridge/depression). And Eliott hides none of it. It's there on the wall. And it seems to be how he filters his emotions in a safe way. 🙁 Curiously there is also another animal that was never adressed. And when you zoom in the animal looks foreboding and dangerous. The drawing is even different than the cute animal doodles. Eliott's drawn a fox from several angles and it looks emaciated and angry. It's just a theory but i began to think that this was how Eliott represented his bipolar side - the sneaky and feral fox. 😥 His appartment also has a very bachelor-esque bohemian vibe too.

And i adored when Eliott explained why the raccoon?? La raton laveur wears a mask. And then Eliott does the mask motion across his face. This again is a great choice of animal for Eliott to channel. As looking at raccoons for a second: they are nocturnal, intelligent, curious, mischievious, wild at heart, tendency to lash out if feeling threatened or to protect themselves, and have a mask feature that theory says can help with night glare. And i remember the writer Niels did a BTS for insight, ideas and reasons for certain writing themes. And he talked about the Elu spirit animals. And it ended up being one of my favourite things i learned about the season. Because the animal can say so much about the person and what they hide. And when you look at Eliott you understand why he's a raccoon. 🦝 It just fits perfectly personality wise, shame wise, life experience wise and the bipolar symbolism is again amazing. 👏

And drawing animals says so much about how you cope with your feelings. The doodle style cute drawings seem to be a secure way to look deeper into yourself and reveal your fears/insecurities that scare you. I love love that Eliott shows this insight through his art, which is his emotional release when the world ends up being too much. Such great layers for a complex character. 💜

I loved that he brings in the extra beers too cause he wants Lucas to stay longer. 🍻 And then Lucas brings out the weed at the end cause he doesn't wanna leave. 🚬 They both gift each other to keep the night going on. And something that i begin to notice about Lucas is how quickly he goes along with all things Eliott. 🤗 After the initial tease about the raccoon spirit animal and Eliott's cute defense of it. Lucas is genuinely interested and likes Eliott's mind and creativity. He wants to know this guy and is endeared by the things Eliott says and does. And the boy is thirsty as f 💦 because i remember when he dropped that line about Eliott drawing him, my jaw hit the floor. 🤯 Because our isaks aren't this forward, and Lucas is brave and willing. Because not only does he approach eliott first but now he's basically saying "draw me like one of your french girls" and the bitch wiggles his eyebrows 😳 and even Eliott loses his confident composure. Lucas is telling Eliott to think about him, study him, look at him, give him all his attention and think of nothing else but him in that moment. And Eliott rises to the challenge and blatantly eyefucks him 👁👄👁 but we also see his artistic mind because we see his gaze change for a moment to assess Lucas too.

Look, suffice it to say these 2 make eyefucking each other a profession. The entire hang out is crazy desire for each other. 👁👄👁 It's the version where i always saw it as things could escalate a whole lot quicker with them if not for that fated text. They just don't care about hiding their attraction. And they really do end up in their own little bubble away from the world where they are comfortable and themselves. On a cuter note. The little noise Eliott makes when he smells the weed bag is 🥰 Anyway, the night isn't over yet and the best is yet to come. 😋

Song: The Fold & Thomas Geiger - For you

[bunnyhanasong]

Brainwashed

Chapter 3 of Foolish Girl 

☆ Chapter 1 ☆ Chapter 2 ☆ AO3

Main ship: widowtracer

Notes: Hello all! I am so sorry I abandoned this book since November. I have been struggling with a lot due to the pandemic and my own life, so I got sidetracked and also had major writers block. I do hope this chapter makes up for it. We get to see a side of our favourite assassin in a new light, which may help explain her actions in previous chapters.

Content Warnings: swearing, mentions of weapons and injuries, canon-typical violence and the works, Reaper (he deserves his own warning 😂)

               ─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Widowmaker pushed herself off the lumpy, Talon issued cot. The thing was barely considered a bed, no pillow to aid in comfort or posture, with only a thin blanket that scratched roughly at her skin. Still, Widowmaker couldn’t complain; it’s not like she felt the cold anyway. She also didn’t often rest, it just wasn’t necessary anymore, so the cot was mostly a formality.

She looked around her chamber with distaste, forgetting just how drab the whole place was. Her room in Talon always felt like a prison cell, with cement walls and floor and a broken door leading to a small bathroom. There was no personality to the room, the walls were bare and the only sign of life was her hairbrush discarded on the dresser and her own presence. The dresser contained training uniforms and various recreations of her Talon catsuit, an illogical outfit choice for battle but she could not argue. She was just a machine, an object; her opinion did not matter.

She collected her hairbrush and an elastic off the dresser, crossing the chamber to enter the bathroom. She stood in front of the dusty mirror, observing her own reflection in distaste. Her hair was down, something that occurred only when she slept, tumbling over her shoulders in a blue-black mess. Her skin was more pale than usual, it’s blue hue making her seem sickly. What didn’t help was the considerable bruises blooming on her face, highlighting the permanent dark circles under her eyes from the treatments that turned her into Widowmaker.

The bruises, she noted with an eye roll, were Reaper’s gift to her. “A gift,” he said, since she had been so disobedient. She did not off the Oxton girl when given a chance, she directly disobeyed orders and spoke back to her superior. That was asking for punishment, he explain, before landing a calculated punch to her face. Widowmaker had barely flinched at the contact, though the force of it sent her reeling backwards. With a few more hits Reaper ended up breaking her nose and leaving her with a particularly angry bruise across her cheekbone.

Moira had chastised her as she reset her nose and healed it with her scientific magic that Widowmaker would never understand. The older woman was not unkind to her, not directly, she was just cold. The scientist had no empathy in her body, purely apathetic and focusing only on the medical aspect of everything. She only fixed Widow because she was Moira’s creation, her guinea pig; a broken machine cannot function properly. She told Widowmaker that angering Reaper was a mistake, as if it wasn’t obvious, and the French woman had best smarten up. She could have healed her bruises as she fixed her broken bone in mere minutes, but left it as a reminder of her disobedience. A warning that she may not be so lucky next time.

With a huff at the memory, Widowmaker began to run the brush through her hair. She let her mind wander as she worked the knots from her inky blue locks. She wasn’t allowed to let herself to have idle thought, as she was only supposed to think what was put into her head, but no one was there to stop her this time. As she pulled her hair back into its signature ponytail, she let her thoughts fall on a particularly hyper Brit.

Tracer was someone that annoyed Widowmaker to no end. Her constantly giggling and flashing around like a mosquito she could never kill was irritating beyond belief. The sniper had wanted to kill her on multiple occasions, and had the chance almost every time, but she never pulled the trigger. She wasn’t sure why, since she only ever felt truly alive after a kill. Getting rid of Lena would cross a pest off her list and make her job a hell of a lot easier, yet there was something in her mind screaming to keep the girl alive.

With her hair finished, Widowmaker went back to her room to collect her training uniform. She hated wearing her mission suits and, though her superiors preferred her to be mission ready at all times, she would only don her catsuit when absolutely necessary. She saw the way the other agents sneered at her, no doubt objectifying her body in that skintight menace of a suit. They all got armour and protection in their uniforms, but Widowmaker’s was merely a means of demeaning her. She supposed that was the point, to treat her like the object they saw her as. She couldn’t argue, but she could avoid the outfit for as long as possible.

Her training outfits weren’t much better. Still skintight, a pair of athletic tights and a white tank top with the Talon insignia over her heart. She was able to wear a sports bra with this outfit, which gave some support her catsuits lacked. She had been chastised for it before, her hatred for her uniforms; apparently a machine should not care about being objectified. Widowmaker thought that was absurd, since she did still have some human left in her. Besides, her training outfits were more practical and comfortable, giving her more range of motion in their soft cotton and spandex than her suit ever did.

A knock on her chamber door just as she was drawing her jacket on caught Widowmaker’s attention. She sighed and flicked her ponytail over her should, making her way to the metal door that led out to the hallway.

Out in the hall stood the man himself, the shell of Overwatch agent Gabriel Reyes. She supposed that was secret information, but it wasn’t hard to figure out. Widowmaker still held some of Lacroix’s memories, though they were fuzzy. She remembered Reyes, his mannerisms and attitude, and had seen the files Talon kept on Reaper. Moira was easily prompted to brag about her “best accomplishment” and spoke proudly about how she kept Reyes from death. Really it was too easy and Widowmaker had known for a while just who Reaper used to be, and she supposed Overwatch knew by now too.

“Oui?”

“Widowmaker,” Reaper was slouched against her doorframe, “Functioning status?”

The woman tried to hide her annoyance, “Functional and ready for work, sir.”

He nodded, somehow seeming amused despite the unmoving white mask covering his features, or what was left of them anyway. He looked her up and down for a moment before speaking again.

“You are not in your uniform, Widowmaker.”

“I have not been assigned a mission yet, Sir,” she explained in a monotone voice, “Training clothes allow more range of motion for daily activities.”

“I see,” he did not sound impressed, “Well, Doomfist seems to have a mission for you; he requested your presence in the meeting room.”

“Very well,” Widowmaker agreed as she straightened her posture, “Shall I follow you to the room or am I allowed to go on my own?”

“I will take you. We wouldn’t want such an important machine getting lost on her way, would we?”

Widowmaker gritted her teeth, “Non.”

***

No more than forty minutes later, Widowmaker was back in her chamber and shimmying her way into that suit she despised so much. She hated the way it formed to her borderline emaciated body, all of the muscle and healthy fat that Lacroix had was lost due to Widowmaker’s lack of food intake and constant running across rooftops. Her metabolic processes had been slowed so she need not eat much, but that also meant her body had adapted to the lack of nutrients. Lacroix’s muscular dancer’s body had been altered to better suit combat, but it was also failing as her humanity was slowly sucked away through Widowmaker’s treatments.

“Where’s my favourite spider going?” a smug voice crooned from the corner, making Widowmaker jump. Sat cross-legged on her cot, which was empty a mere moment ago, was a particular pest that she would have no trouble pulling the trigger for.

“Sombra,” she snapped as she glanced over her shoulder at the hacker, “Pour l’amour de Dieu...”

Widowmaker made a mental note to always search her room for glowing purple translocators in the future.

“Always so grumpy,” the purple haired woman giggled annoyingly, “What’s your problem?”

“You’re in my room,” Widowmaker rolled her eyes, “I would prefer if you didn’t translocate into places you are not invited.”

“Well that would be counterproductive.”

“What do you want, Sombra?”

The Mexican woman hopped to her feet, smirk returning, “Where are you going?”

“Mission.”

“Not to see your precious lil girlfriend?”

The teasing tone and implications in her voice made Widowmaker want to hit her, “I don’t like what you’re insinuating.”

“Just thought you’d be worried about your poor foolish Overwatch agent,” Sombra grinned, “Since you couldn’t stop Reaper from trying to do your job.”

“She was not my target,” Widowmaker said firmly, “And that is not your business.”

“Oh, c’mon, Widowmaker. I’m your best friend, why won’t you be honest with me about your little girlfriend?”

“We are not friends,” Widowmaker spat, “And I have a plane to be on.”

With that she walked past Sombra, ponytail swinging, and headed down the hallway. Sombra was the most irritating person she had met in Talon, and that was saying something. Her loyalty had always been skewed and it seemed the hacker would turn on them if the opportunity benefited her, but no one seemed to care. Widowmaker hated how smug and nosy she was, but this was just another thing a machine wasn’t allowed to care about.

She stopped by the armoury to pick up her things, slinging her gun over her shoulder so she could attach her venom mine cuff to her suit. She pocketed a few extra mines, locking them in a specially made compartment so they didn’t accidentally activate. After collecting her grapple and securing her helmet over her head, she made her way to the hangar.

The Paris Talon base was small, since it wasn’t often occupied. This was where Talon took her the first time she had been kidnapped. It was also where Overwatch had taken her from after she had been made a sleeper agent, unbeknownst to them. Since the main base was hidden away somewhere in the United States, this one was merely a place to occupy if a Mission called for it. They had been in Paris for a little over two months though, which meant Widowmaker had to deal with Sombra and Reaper in much closer proximity than she’d prefer.

She reached the hangar and found Maximilian standing outside the door of a small aircraft. The omnic regarded her with the same standoffish attitude as usual, somehow his discontent with her presence was very clear on his unmoving face.

“Widowmaker,” the leader nodded when she dipped her head in polite greeting, “Functioning status?”

“Operating as expected, Maximilian, sir.”

“What happened to your face?” His visual receptors caught sight of the bruises, somehow looking at her in distaste.

“Reaper lost his temper,” she replied lowly, “A mistake on my part, it will not happen again. Moira fixed me and I am functional, the bruising is merely a cosmetic issue.”

“I see,” he nodded and then gestured to the aircraft, “You know your mission?”

“Locate the Overwatch safe house and determine who remains in France, oui.”

“Indeed. You know of their possible whereabouts?”

Widowmaker nodded, “Lacroix’s memories tell me Annecy was an important place. It is where she grew up, where her and the husband lived, and presumably that is where Overwatch is most likely to reside.”

“Annecy... that is far, is it not?”

“Five and a half hours by car, but the aircraft can get me there undetected in under an hour I’m sure.”

“Very well,” Maximilian replied, “Get going then.”

“Yes sir.”

“And, Widowmaker?”

“Yes, Maximilian?” Widowmaker had already climbed the steps to the aircraft so she turned to look at the omnic.

“No shots unless absolutely necessary,” he ordered, “I want all of them alive... for now.”

The assassin stifled a sigh and nodded, getting into the ship. The door shut behind her and she took a seat, being the only person save for the pilot on board.

“Surveillance,” Widowmaker scoffed, “Why would they send a perfectly trained assassin for a surveillance mission? Even Sombra could do this on her own.”

She continued her quiet grumbling for most of the way there, switching to French at some point when she realized the ship was probably bugged. She muttered about everything that was bothering her, simply because she had nothing better to do. It was best to get it all out now before she was on surveillance; as she would have to be silent for hours after she landed.

“Stupid foolish girl,” Widowmaker muttered, “Getting herself shot like a dumbass.”

It’s not that Widowmaker wanted to think about Tracer, but her thoughts kept drifting back there. It was beginning to annoy her, how often the small Brit flashed through her mind. Really it shouldn’t happen at all, not with the way her conditioning left her brain wired. She was supposed to only think to kill, certainly not to get distracted worrying about her enemy’s injury. If Moira knew of this she would have a hay day messing with the conditioning again, and Widowmaker would do anything to avoid more of that. So what if she was more conscious than usual? No one had to know.

“Arriving in Annecy in 15 minutes,” the ship’s AI droned monotonously.

“Mon Dieu,” widowmaker cursed under her breath, “Let this mission go by quickly. Why must I waste my time on surveillance?”

When the ship stopped to hover above a rooftop in a quiet part of the town, Widowmaker stood. She adjusted her rifle sling and popped her comm into her ear, immediately hearing a familiar voice a bit too loudly.

“Lacroix,” Doomfist’s accent made the last name sound foreign to her, though at this point in her brainwashing Widowmaker was unsure if Gérard’s name was ever familiar at all.

“Oui, monsieur Doomfist?” Her brain still half stuck in her native language, knowing he would understand those few regardless.

“Keep an eye out for Overwatch agents but also any suspicious looking omnics; they have been known to canoodle with those useless machines.”

Widowmaker had to stifle an almost monotonous laugh, hearing a dull thump as Maximillian undoubtedly smacked the leader upside the head.

Doomfist huffed, “Don’t let your guard down, Widowmaker. That being said, no shots unless absolutely necessary.”

“Affirmative.”

“Good,” Doomfist hummed, “Don’t step out of line again, we wouldn’t want to have to put down our precious spider for disobedience; now would we?”

“Non, sir,” Widowmaker replied through gritted teeth, letting out a sigh when the comm line went dead. She was left in silence, save for the sound of the hovering plane as she went to open the door.

They would never let Widowmaker live it down, that split second hesitation. The screaming voice in her mind that told her to spare Lena. She shouldn’t have listened, she should have followed her programming. Now she was being punished simply because her enemy was still alive at her fault.

“Foolish girl,” she muttered, “Get out of my head.”

***

Those long hours on rooftops were Widowmaker’s safe space. Despite her being technically out in the open, she never felt safe anywhere else. She had become claustrophobic due to her treatments, the straps that bound her to the tables always too tight. The tiny cement box that she spent every non-working hour in made her feel like a caged animal. Out in the open though, she could lurk in silence and not be seen. She was exposed but also concealed, not backed into a corner with no chance of escaping.

She had found the safe house in a mere half hour. After hopping over rooftops and using her infrared scope to see into buildings, she caught sight of a familiar willowy woman that immediately gave away their location.

It was amusing to Widowmaker, to see Angela Ziegler away from prying eyes. She lost her hardened attitude that came with years of being a trauma medic and became a different person. She looked smaller, almost meek, shuffling around the room she had clearly tried to turn into a makeshift medical area. She had a blanket wrapped around her shoulders, pacing around the area like a trapped, injured lioness.

“Ah, Angela,” Widowmaker hummed softly, watching through the open window, “So troubled.”

She watched a bit longer, noting that the Swiss woman merely paced and seemed to mutter to herself. She did seem worried, but that was to be expected. Angela Ziegler had always been a mother hen, with one of her children injured she was undoubtedly upset and feeling helpless without all her medical supplies.

Widowmaker’s interest piqued when the door opened, revealing a muscled woman who’s image made her scowl. Fareeha Amari, how she had grown. So much like her mother yet so different, a soldier but not as hardened by war as Ana had been. Alive, nonetheless, and fussing over the previous subject of Widowmaker’s observations.

She was speaking to Angela in what looked like a gentle tone, a worried hand grabbing her shoulder. The doctor reacted with an annoyed shrug, though she sighed and begrudgingly apologized to Fareeha. Trouble in paradise? Widowmaker shrugged, not her business and certainly not information Talon would value.

She turned her scope to another open blind, fussing with the zoom before she finally caught sight of someone. A thin girl walking past the window, she barely looked older than a teenager, carrying a pair of crutches. Curious, Widowmaker leaned a bit over the edge of the building and focused her view a bit.

The girl, Hana Song according to her previous research on Overwatch affiliates, had walked over to the only bed in the room. There laid a sickly looking thing, a shell of who Widowmaker knew her as, Lena Oxton.

“Oh,” Widowmaker found herself saying, “Pauvre chiot...”

Tracer was slumped into the mountain of pillows propping her up, looking at Hana with a sour expression. The younger was obviously trying to get her to stand up, but the injured woman shook her head firmly. Widowmaker knew it was way too early for ambulation at that point, not with the extent of Reaper’s damage. Ziegler must know that too, so why was the young agent trying to hard to pry Lena from her blankets.

“Interesting...”

Hana had succeeded in getting Tracer in a sitting position and was trying to get her to swing her legs over the bed. The Brit was clearly protesting, clinging tightly to her friend as pain shot through her tightly bound injury. The agony was apparent on her face and it made the sniper want to yank Hana off her, something in her mind protesting at the sight.

Widowmaker was shocked when she felt a pang of something in her stomach, a wave of worry and guilt washing over her. The intensity of them hit her harsher than Reaper’s fist; she hadn’t felt those emotions in ages, didn’t even think she could anymore. Why did her body have such a response to Tracer’s pain like that? Why wasn’t her programming pleased with the sight?

“Merde,” she spit in annoyance at her own thoughts, unsure of what to do. She should be checking other rooms for more Overwatch agents, clarifying who was in France, but she couldn’t tear her eyes away from the sight before her. Hana had slipped out of the room by that point, probably to get Angela, leaving Tracer alone on the chair beside the widow.

The woman was slouched over herself, hand holding tightly onto the windowsill for a semblance of support. Her teeth were gritted in pain as she tried to distract herself, clearly wanting to go back to bed to avoid this situation longer.

Widowmaker jumped when Tracer made a sudden movement. Noise from out on the street made her turn to the window, glancing out into the twilight. The motion made Widowmaker held her breath, she should be further away, she chose a rooftop too close by for secure surveillance. A rookie mistake for an assassin of her stature, especially when she locked eyes with her subject.

Tracer had clearly spotted her, her brain working overtime in her pained haze. It took a moment before a look of recognition crossed her face, quickly morphing to confusion and pain. Widowmaker cursed under her breath, mind screaming to hide, to duck, to run, but she couldn’t bring herself to move.

The injured woman propped herself up in the windowsill, leaning closer to the pane as she gazed at the assassin across the way. She could see the familiar outline of her enemy on the roof, the telltale glowing red eyes on her helmet and the anxious shifting of having been spotted.

This was wrong, Widowmaker thought, what in the world was she thinking?

Tracer’s mouth moved as she spoke to herself, one word that Widowmaker felt hit her harder than it ever had before. The distance between them didn’t matter, nor did the fact that she couldn’t hear Lena. It rung through the silence surrounding her, blaring in her skull like a knife to the brain.

“Amélie...”

[belphegor1982]

Thought I’d make a the Mummy/Returns fic recs posts for @counterwiddershins (EDIT: whom I can tag now!) because they asked for recs. So here are my favourite (complete) Mummy stories under the cut in alphabetical order, title-summary-why it’s on my list style. A few are Old, because I discovered this fandom in 2003 and there’s some great oldies. Hope you - and anyone else looking for great fics - enjoy them!

As Sweet as This / Coming Clean, by robot-iconography

Summary:  Evelyn reflects on the changes Ahm Shere has wrought upon her brother, husband, and son. /  Rick takes his life in his hands as he faces his greatest challenge ever: fatherhood.

Comments: I put these two in the same bag because they’re basically a diptych. They’re like two sides of the same coin. On one hand, you have a lovely story in Evy’s voice, on the other, a hilarious one in Rick’s. Both stories are sweet and more touching than they sound.

Circumstantial Evidence, by robot-iconography

Summary: “She could be damnably silly at times; she dressed like a spinster and carried herself like bloody royalty; but she was my baby sister, the only one I’d ever have. I’d been through hell to get her back, and now I was going to lose her anyway.”

Comments: Probably my favourite Mummy story ever. I love it so much I translated it into French in 2004, and even more so now I’ve read PG Wodehouse. Basically, there is canoodling, funny misunderstandings, and the closing scene is adorable (and made me discover Ella Fitzgerald’s “Always”, which is perfect as Ella Fitzgerald always is). Peak Carnahan siblings shenanigans and a great Rick.

Deeper Within Darkness, by Laurie M

Summary: It is a truth universally acknowledged that wherever Rick O'Connell and Evelyn Carnahan are, trouble is not far away. What begins as an innocent night out soon leads to danger that threatens all of Egypt.

Comments: a great follow-up on the 1st film, with still-developing relationships, a mysterious medallion, and ghostly (sort of) crocodiles. The main four are very well written. 3rd person limited POVs alternate with 1st person POVs in a very natural way, allowing us glimpses into the characters’ heads. Sometimes a little bit sombre, but a lovely story.

A Favour for a Friend, by queueingtrilobite [orphan account]

Summary: Roped into doing a favour for a friend, Jonathan finds himself in charge of an antiques shop in Cairo. This is honestly the very last favour he's going to do for anyone. Ever.

If you ship Ardeth and Jonathan, there’s plenty of fun and/or feelsy stories for you! Like this fun little romp, which features a hilarious style, a Jonathan who is equally good at thinking on his toes as he is as making disasters happen (being a bit of a disaster himself).

Finding Ma’at, by exchequered [orphan account]

Summary: “Hamunaptra Cruises.” Ardeth’s tone was thoughtful. “Do you not fear a curse upon your enterprise, for naming it thus?”

Another Ardeth/Jonathan fic - and boy, this one is *chef’s kiss* I mean, the only three tags are Tourism, Pining, and denial is a river in Egypt :D

Hereafter, by Marxbros

Summary: After TMR. Imhotep has raised Ancksunamun and conquered the earth. Rick, Evy, Ardeth, Jonathan, and some new characters must find each other to defeat Imhotep once more.

Comments: ooh, this one’s a monster to tackle (134k words), and it gets pretty epic - and is worth every second of reading. The OCs are great, necessary, and everyone gets their chance to shine.

Never Spellbound by a Starry Sky, by robot-iconography

Summary: Strange goings-on mar Rick and Evelyn's wedding preparations. Can they and Jonathan solve the mystery?

Comments: another follow-up on TM, as Evy and Rick navigate their relationship and how much they should wait before any sort of hanky-panky. Life interferes in the form of a mysterious object (though NOT the obvious one) and the three are thrust into adventure again. There are battles with the mosquito netting, someone getting a few stitches on their arse (again, not the obvious choice), and all the chapter titles come from dialogue from Elizabeth Peters’ Crocodile on the Sandbank. It’s often hilarious and the dialogue is to die for.

The Mummy: Curse of the Seven Scorpions, by Jac Danvers

Summary: Libby O’Connell hasn’t heard from her brother in years. The word ‘mummy’ meant nothing to her. But when a tiny gold scorpion is revealed to have much greater value, she is thrust back into her family’s life, and the life of a man she once hated.

Comments: back in the day, the “Rick’s sister tags along and falls in love with [usually Ardeth]” trope was a staple of Mummy fanfic, and one I didn’t have much interest in. This little story, mostly set after TMR, is a fun romp; Libby is a good character, well handled, and the little developing romance with Jonathan is fun to watch.

Sidekick, by madsthenerdy girl (on FFnet here)

Summary: Jonathan honestly tries to be a big brother. No, really.

Comments: Fantastic portrait of Jonathan through the years, warts and all, and his relationship with Evy (and later Alex). It’s heartfelt, often funny, and honest (sometimes painfully).

Take That, Bembridge Scholars!, by seren-ccd

Summary: The world has been saved and there's really only one thing left to do. Evy writes a strongly worded letter to the Bembridge Scholars. Oh, she gets married, too. 

It’s a great look at Evelyn, Rick and Jonathan in a few scenes, from the night after Hamunaptra to the start of Rick’s and Evy’s life as a married couple, interspersed by extracts from the aforementioned strongly-worded letter (and it’s great).

The Tenth Plague, by Khedi (on FFnet here)

Summary: Did anyone while watching The Mummy wonder about what would have happened if the tenth of the Biblical plagues had come to pass?

Not a death fic (well, not quite) but a great little look at (again, I’m nothing if not predictable) the Carnahan siblings just after they get back to Cairo after The Mummy. It’s a punch in the feels and a hug. I love it.

Travelers by Night, by 20thcenturyvole

Summary: Very quickly, Jonathan weighed the odds. On one hand, potential death, whether by armed bandits, a mummy’s curse, or people who looked like bandits and who were very angry about someone unleashing a mummy’s curse. On the other hand, potential riches, home ground, and topics of conversation other than what happened at school fifteen years ago and who got it in the neck where.

A great look at Jonathan post-first film and a great take on Ardeth, too. Can be shippy if you tilt your head and squint, or not. Your call.

We Three Together series, by Tinydooms

Basically a series that can act as a novelisation for The Mummy, mostly “missing scenes” and character studies. A joy to read if you like Evy, Rick, and Jonathan.

The Witches’ Library, by jones2000 (on FFnet here)

Summary: He would like to state emphatically for the record that none of this was his fault, thank you very much. It was all entirely coincidental. He should know by now that these things have a tendency to snowball. Or, Jonathan doesn't need the O’Connells to find trouble.

Comments: I read this last year and it immediately made my shortlist of favourites, on top of hitting me in the heart and over the head with the subtlety of a freight train. I even made a rec post about it. The writing is so sharp it might as well be written with a bloody scalpel, the OCs are fascinating, and Jonathan is somewhat jaded but still wonderfully entertaining. It’s the only post-WW2 Mummy story I’ve ever loved (read?), and certainly the only one that incorporates Tomb of the Dragon Emperor elements I’ve ever loved. Give it plenty of reviews, it deserves them.

Edited to add a few and make it more dash-friendly :o)

Also, I wrote a few things if you’re interested:

After the Sunset: What’s left to do, after saving the world and riding triumphantly into the setting sun? A lot, as it turns out. Our Heroes ride camels, negotiate the shift from acquaintances and allies to something like a family, and encounter a couple of surprises good and bad on the way back from Hamunaptra. (Or, the one where Evelyn and Rick discover the contents of their saddlebag, Jonathan finds out that whiskey doesn’t quite cut it when a scarab has burrowed its way into your hand and arm and out your shoulder, and Ardeth gives his name and saves the day. Well, night.)

Long one-shot set just after “the end” of The Mummy.

Fairy Tales and Hokum: 1937: Two years after the events of Ahm Shere, the O’Connells are “required” by the British Government to bring the Diamond taken there from Egypt to England. In Cairo, while Evelyn deals with the negotiations and Rick waits for doom to strike again, Jonathan bumps into an old friend of his from university, Tom Ferguson. Things start to go awry when the Diamond is stolen from the Museum and old loyalties are tested...

This one is looong. It’s 160k+ words. (also took me 16 years to finish but shhh)

Carnahan-O’Connells musings and snapshots: Headcanons and one-shots about the disaster family.

Like it says on the tin - mostly headcanons with a few actual stories with dialogue.

I know, there’s not a lot of them, but they’re my very favourites. If you have other recs, feel free to add them!

[jessicakehoe]

This Week’s Need-to-Know Beauty News

Kylie Jenner Faces Backlash Over Skincare Line

The 21-year old mogul unleashed a torrent of angry Instagram users when she announced the upcoming release of her new facial exfoliator, part of her latest venture: a skincare line. The scrub, not dissimilar in look and composition from the now largely shunned St. Ives Apricot Scrub, features walnut powder, or Kylie’s “secret to a fresh face”. One user commented, “Over priced st. Ives. Smfh. I hope y’all like microtears in your face.”  Another user wrote, “Girl…….no. This will turn your face into raw, ground meat.” Micro-tears have been at the centre of the debate—taking place in no small part over at the r/SkincareAddiction Reddit forum—over Apricot Scrub in recent years, with claims that the suspended walnut powder beads are too harsh on the face and can cause tiny lesions in the skin, leading to cystic acne, irritation, infection and more. In recent years, exfoliation has taken a turn towards chemical components and away from physical scrubs, making Kylie’s version appear a bit behind on the times. Ingredient choices aside, people are not pleased that Kylie has essentially duped the St. Ives version and slapped a higher price tag on it. “St Ives is 4 dollars everybody just sayin,” said one user. And St. Ives themselves even joined in on the conversation: “Why wait till may 22? 💁‍♀️”

View this post on Instagram

my secret to a fresh face… #kylieskin walnut face scrub. may 22

A post shared by @ kylieskin on May 14, 2019 at 9:50am PDT

Italy’s Accademia Del Profumo Has Announced This Year’s Fragrance Award Winners

This Tuesday at the Accademia Del Profumo’s 30th annual gala in Milan, Italy’s perfume academy honoured recipients of this year’s fragrance awards. Female fragrance of the year went to Giorgio Armani’s Sì Passione while Dior Sauvage Eau de Parfum took top honours for men’s fragrance of the year, with votes from over 150,000 consumers on the Accademia’s dedicated website and Facebook page. Other honours of the evening included best olfactory creations, going to Tiffany & Co. Eau de Parfum Intense and Tom Ford Ombré Leather. Givenchy’s L’Interdit scored top honours for women’s communication of the year, for their 2018 campaign featuring Rooney Mara.

Sustainable Lipstick Brand La Bouche Rouge Goes Vegan

“We are proud to have designed a true revolution in the beauty industry, the very first vegan, refillable and cruelty-free lipstick,” La Bouche Rouge announced via their website. The French cosmetics brand now boasts a trifecta of sustainability, cutting beeswax from their formula to add “vegan” to their tagline. “With the health and conservation of bees being crucial for the planet, we have removed we have removed beeswax from our formula—taking a stand against the exploitation of bees and guaranteeing purity,” the brand’s website details. They also consulted with designer Stella McCartney to come up with a vegan case—previously made of leather—to go with the revamped formula. La Bouche Rouge has long been a favourite of eco-conscious beauty shoppers, steering clear of microplastics, offering a refillable tube and donating 100 litres of safe drinking water to Eau Vive International for every lipstick sold.

View this post on Instagram

Our first vegan lipstick case, with no microplastic, is now available on our eshop. #laboucherouge#vegan#kissforlife#sustainableluxury#sopureyoucankiss

A post shared by laboucherougeparis (@laboucherougeparis) on May 9, 2019 at 6:01am PDT

  The post This Week’s Need-to-Know Beauty News appeared first on FASHION Magazine.

This Week’s Need-to-Know Beauty News published first on https://borboletabags.tumblr.com/

[iamyemzi]

#YemziGirl Feature 17 (July) - Tania, Graphic Design Student & YouTuber from Benin

1. Please can you introduce yourself including your name (and age if you comfortable)

Hi, my Name is Tania TEVOEDJRE and I’m 22 years old. I’m from Benin and I currently live in Paris. I’m a fashion and graphic design student and an Artistic Director to be (by God’s grace though lol). Apart from that, I’m also a fashion blogger and Youtuber.

 2. Tell us about the dream you are pursuing…

My biggest dream is to become an amazing Artistic Director and establish a creative agency in my country (Benin). This is obviously a concept which does not exists yet in Benin so, I want to be the first to bring it and build something based on what I love and what I’m passionate about; fashion and design.

Our generation is filled with so many entrepreneurs, people who want to build, invent, create and bring new stuff to my dear continent Africa, and a lot of them do not have the means, or do not know how to make all of these projects visually interesting, attracting, etc. And that’s what I want to change. I want to be the person who give life, an identity, a story to all those projects.

Apart from that, I want to see the world. One of my other big dream is to travel, all over the world, discover and learn new things. I want to see as many countries as possible, because I personally think that evolving implies changing, learning and discovering. And the best way to do that for me is travel, as soon as possible. I may not afford to travel as often as I wish to today, but nothing is impossible, especially when you have God in your life. As we say, "You make your own luck," and that’s exactly what I try to do every single day.

3. Apart from following your dreams how do you stay fulfilled?

First thing first; God. Lol

I can’t say I’m the best christian ever. Far from that. But, all I know is that, everything I have, every opportunity, every blessing in my life comes from God. He’s the only one who knows what is good for me, what I need nor what I want, what I’m supposed to be or become, and he’s the only one who will always be by my side, no matter what I do. He’s there, even when you think he’s not. So, I let him take control, I let him guides me, and I try my best to always bring him in everything I do.

Also, doing what I love, and sharing it with my followers, friends, family, etc is for me a way to stay fulfilled. I try to go out often, meet new interesting people, see new things, and stay away from people who are not good for me or for my self-fulfilment and who do not support me or push me to become a better version of myself.

4. Which places do you call home and what do you love about those environments?

The one and only place I can really call home is definitely and obviously Benin. This is where I grew up, this where I come from, this where my parents live. It’s part of who I am.

Yes, I live in Paris now, but, it doesn’t really feel like home, since I know that I’m here only to get my degree and then go back. I do not see myself living in Paris forever.

So yes, Benin is definitely the place I would call Home.

What I love about Benin? Well…everything…lol

Maybe not EVERYTHING, but, I like the way I feel when I’m in Benin. It’s a small country, so everybody knows everybody. It’s like a big family. Lol

I love the weather (maybe not too much though, lol), I love the fact that in a few minutes you can go from urbanisation, city to little paradises with beaches and stuff.

I love the fact that in the same tinny country you have so many ethnicities, languages, cultures. I love the history of the country (even if a lot of people don’t actually knows it).

I love the fact that life can sometimes feels so much easier than in Europe for example. Anyway, I love so many things about Benin!

5. 3 things you love most about where you live?

I’ve been living in France for 5 years now, and in Paris for 2 years, and the 3 things I love about this city are, the fact that there is so many things to do, so many events to go to, actually, you never get bored in Paris. I love the fact that you have the possibility to travel in so many European countries for low prices, and finally, I love the food! Dah! French food is everything! Haha

 6. When is it best in Paris, Cotonou and Dakar?

Personnally, I’m a heat person, I don’t like winter, since I grew up in a warm climate, so for me, Paris is definitely better in the summer. There are so many things to do, a lot of rooftop parties, walks in the parcs, festivals, etc…And I think visiting monuments and historic places is better when it’s sunny, especially for the photos, it’s better! lol

I prefer Cotonou during christmas holidays. One thing you have to know is that, to have fun in Benin, you must know people or have family there. If not, you can’t know where to go or what to do, and it can quickly become boring. Christmas holidays is the period when most Beninese come back to spend the end of the year with their family, so everyone is there! And since last year, we have our own fashion week now, and it’s actually in December! Also, summer time here is actually rainy season in Benin,so yeah, December is for me the best period to come to Cotonou.

I lived in Dakar for one year only but it was the best year of my life! I went to high school there and it wasn't even as fancy as it is today at the time! But still! I fell in love with this city!

I haven’t had the time to go back there since, but it’s definitely on my bucket list!

I think, Dakar is good all year! Lol, whenever you want to go to Dakar, GO! There are so many things to do and see!

7. Where is your happy face?

My year in Dakar was the best year of my life! So I think if I go back, it’ll still be an amazing experience! So, I think my happy face is in Senegal somehow. Even if Benin is my home, Dakar has something magical! And I can’t wait to relive it again, especially now that I’m all grown up and craving for new experiences!

8. What makes you a #YemziGirl?

My love for Africa, Fashion, Design and Originality and my desire to become my own kind of amazing.

The fact that I do what I love no matter what people think and that I can be so strong and so vulnerable at the same time.

 9. Do you have a favourite Yemzi piece of clothing or collection?

Your SS17 collection is definitely my fave! I do like colors, but I think that black is the ultimate classy color! And if I had to choose one piece of clothing, I think I’ll go for the boubou and the hight waisted pants!

 10. Are you more of a plain or printed type of girl?

Both I guess. I love african prints! So much! But plain fabrics are kind of an everyday life choice. I don’t think I could be wearing prints ALL the time. So yes, both.

11. Can you explain your passion for design and fashion?

Frankly, I don’t even know how to explain it lol, I just love it. I’ve been loving it since I’m a kid. I knew I was going to work in fashion or design. I always knew that’s what I wanted to do and what I was good at. For me, fashion and design are everything. There are means to express yourself, where you come from etc. And what I like about these, it’s that, there are no limits. You can never stop creating in fashion and design, and nothing is too original. There are so many shapes, structures, shades, and all of it is driven by taste, history, culture. It’s amazing.  

12.What is your favourite creation?

Wow…that’s a hard question…

I don’t think I have like ONE favourite creation. That’s the magic of fashion I guess. I love so many pieces, creations, etc…so I don’t know how to answer to this question…lol

 13. How do you maintain your hair?

I just cut and dye my hair every two or three weeks. I even published an article on my blog where I explain all the process to obtain my haircut. Between that, I just make sure that it is always moisturised and to use the right products to avoid, yellow reflects since I have blond hair. Extremely short hair does not requires a big hair care routine. That’s one of the reasons why I decided to cut my hair in the first place.

14. Nature or nurture?

Once again, both I think.

We all come from somewhere, with a background which defines us. But I truly think that nature can be changed by nurture, in other words, by what we go through, what we have seen and what we see during our life, what we experience. We don’t all come from the same country, family, we don’t all have the same genes, but we also don’t experience, learn, see the same things. So I think it’s the combination of those two factors that makes every human unique.  

15. And finally, what's your favourite quote?

My favourite quote is quite long, since it’s more like a paragraph or something so pardon me, but I can’t cut it because it’s the whole idea of it which makes it so powerful:

"They keep saying that beautiful is something a girl needs to be. But honestly? Forget that. Don’t be beautiful. Be angry, be intelligent, be witty; be klutzy, be interesting, be funny, be adventurous, be crazy, be talented. There are an eternity of other things to be other than beautiful. And what is beautiful anyway but a set of letters strung together to make a word? Be your own definition of amazing, always. That is so much more important than anything beautiful, ever." - Nikita Gill

[promomagazine]

Learn How to Fly with Nicoletta Santoro

By: Jessica Michault

Nicoletta Santoro is a fashion industry fixture. One of the most well respected stylists working today, her sartorial vision has appeared in the pages of Italian Vogue, French Vogue and Vanity Fair. She was also the International Fashion Director at Large for Vogue China before her current job as the Creative Director at large for Town & Country.

Nicoletta, with her famous waves of blond hair and her devotion to wearing Prada creations, has travelled the globe to shoot fashion stories in some of the world’s most exotic locations. So in this exclusive interview, a version of which first appeared in the pages of the 12th issue of ODDA Magazine, we though she would be the best person to ask about how to look chic in any circumstances, even on a 24 hour flight.

Q: Nicoletta what sort of flyer are you? Do you get to the airport early…do you have a fetish outfit you always wear on the plane… Do you have any sort of flying ritual?

A: I get to the airport promptly and I have a timetested travel uniform, which includes Prada denim jeans. My ritual is the narcoleptic one.

Q: Do you find that you are flying more now then you did earlier in your career? It seems like there is always some major fashion event now in some exotic location.

A: When I was Vogue China’s Fashion Director I probably spent those years flying more than I ever have in my life.

Q: How do you spend your time in the air? Do you try and disconnect from the world or is it time you use to focus on powering through work without being bothered by any exterior distractions?

A: Unplugging is essential for me. Sleeping pills or overdosing on the mediocre movies that play from the miniature screen in front of me are both helpful.

Q: As a famous stylists I am particularly curious about how and what you pack. Can you give me a blow by blow of what is in your bag…and what is in your carry-on…just in case the checked luggage doesn’t make it?

A: I pack systematically with military-like rigor starting two days before departure, pairing looks with accessories. This is more or less the same frame of mind I apply to my fashion shoots. Having something go wrong is not an option!

Q: Do you have a luggage brand that you are faithful to, and if so which one and why?

A: Tumi. I like traveling with wheels and their bags are sleek and dependable.

Q: What is the most luggage you have brought on a flight when you were doing a shoot?

A: Transporting seventeen trunks for a Vanity Fair Hollywood issue cover shoot with Annie Leibovitz.

Q: How do you pack for a month of shows? Do you have things you plan on wearing shipped ahead of time?

A: I check what the weather will be like. And no, I don’t ship my clothes ahead of time. They’re just clothes after all, right? 😉

Q: What makes an outfit for you? Suzy Menkes always told me to wear comfortable clothing and always have an amazing coat.

A: That’s good advice from Suzy. Me? I stick to a personal combo while trying to keep things unpredictable. I almost only exclusively wear Prada and I like mixing looks from past and present. Looking stale is the enemy.

Q: I know some people love to always sit in the same seat, do you have any preferences, and if so what?

A: I always want the corridor seat. I’m a bit claustrophobic.

Q: What is the secret to looking good and feeling good while traveling on a long haul flight?

A: Staying hydrated. I’m partial to lots of fruit juice.

Q: Have you ever done a fashion shoot on an airplane?

A: I’m not crazy about the idea – it feels a bit cliché – although I once did a suitcase ad featuring Isabella Rossellini on a plane.

Q: What do you always have to have with you when you travel?

A: My perfume. I’ve only changed scents three times in my whole life and each time was simply because the perfume got discontinued.

Q: What do you love most about flying?

A: Being unreachable.

Q: What can’t you stand about flying?

A: Ironically, also being unreachable.

Q: Where do you stand on airplane food? Do you partake or do you bring your own?

A: I am vegetarian and I preorder my meals.

Q: Which airline is your favourite to travel with?

A: I’m very fond of Virgin airlines.

Q: What is your stance on shoes on a flight, must they always stay on?

A: I bring my slippers.

Q: What is the best and worst thing that has every happened to you on a flight?

Q: The best was meeting an old friend. The worst remains, and always is for me, talking to strangers.

Q: Where is your favorite place to travel to?

A: I’ve been all around the world but visiting Milano, where I grew up, is always my favourite trip. I still stay with my mother in the same apartment I grew up in as a girl. The second would be Paris, where my husband and I started our family before moving to New York in the late 90s.

Q: What should you never do on a flight?

A: Get angry. It can spread like a wave and affect everybody.