I know that this blog isn’t super active, I been extremely busy with graduation, now that I am officially graduated- the blog should be a bit more active, though I’ll still be quite busy! Thank you though, for letting this small blog already gain so many followers! I really love Futaba and this fandom, so this is such a nice welcome! Thank you once again!
I’ve been thinking and, personally, I think Sombra might be autistic. inb4 “you don’t have evidence”/“where’s ur proof”, I’m autistic and I see myself in her so honestly I don’t need evidence, but! I do have some things I personally think support my point!! they’re under the cut
Some passerby on the street thinking Satya’s hand stimming was weird and making a comment about how gross and creepy he thought it was out loud, making her feel really bad about stimming.
And when she got home and told her wife, Sombra about it, she almost seemed dismissive at first, which upset her greatly. Little did she know, her hacker wife was up all that night going through the footage of the security camera that scanned the street of the marketplace where her wife was shopping (which she “got access” to through “legal manners”, of course). And she scans through it until she finds the exact moment where the guy made his hurtful comment, and then goes through all her records to identify the guy, which doesn’t take long at all.
And when Satya woke up the next day, feeling a little better, somehow the guy’s entire internet history had been leaked onto the internet and sent to his family and friends.
1. “You know threatening to shoot the roomba has no effect at all on the Machine, right Sweetie?”
“It was spying on me! Following me from room to room like a-”
“I think it was following your trail of pretzel crumbs.” Root says, brushing a grain of rock salt off of Shaw’s chin with her thumb.
Shaw glowers. She can’t *technically* argue with that.
Root surveys the smoking ruins of the roomba while Shaw defiantly cleans her pistol and puts it away. In light of the whole Samaritan/AI apocalypse debacle, Root can understand her distrust of anything even faintly robotic, but Shaw really needs to curb herself on the whole ‘shooting in the apartment’ thing. Lucky the floors are concrete.
“Roombas cost 400$. The next one you shoot, you’re paying for. In scotch.”
Shaw looks aghast. She glances at the cabinet where she hoards her liquors, knowing Root is not above pouring a bottle or two down the drain and making her watch.
“I mean it, Sameen.”
Root turns on her heel and sashays into the office, presumably to order another devil robot cleaning machine.
Shaw picks up the remnants of the roomba and drops them in the trash.
“Stupid vacuum spying on me with its beady little eyes,” she grumbles, “turning my girlfriend against me.”
She feels Root behind her, then, slipping her hands around her waist.
“Come on,” Root says, “let’s go to Sears and get a vacuum that won’t piss you off.”
“An upright one? Just a normal old fashioned-”
“Just a normal, old fashioned upright. For MY normal, old fashioned upright”
Shaw groans. Root and her puns.
Root does the thing with her lips and Shaw’s earlobe and suddenly the ire is gone and Shaw doesn’t really care about vacuums or spies or anything any more.
“Yeah, we can do that. But first there’s um. Something we should talk about, in the bedroom.”
Root’s fingers are already tugging on her belt buckle.
“Yeah, we have to talk about how you’re gonna pay me back for shooting my roomba.”
“Mm, I don’t have… any money.”
“Lucky for you I accept more creative forms of payment….”