i think she’s motivated not by self gain but by the urge to make a change. shes a notorious hacker– if she was really just after money or wanted to be selfish, im sure she could find less dangerous work lmao. she’s ambitious and dangerous but all of that comes from growing up in poverty under an oppressive government that left the poor to rot in a country that was abandoned by fancy organizations like overwatch. she exposes lumerico not because she personally gains anything from it, but because the people of mexico and of dorado would have directly suffered from it and she couldn’t stand for that.
her motivations parallel lucios in a lot of ways that include them both coming from poor backgrounds in desperate situations– difference is that sombra found a way to independently care for and support herself via hacking, so her cause seems less noble because shes 1.) not as nice and not as “relatable” as lucio and 2.) she doesnt need the support of the people or for them to rally behind her, because she can do it all on her own. sombra doesnt incite social change the same way lucio does, she just… does it herself. and she gets labeled a criminal for it, and yeah, not everything she does is morally right and completely selfless, but the intentions are there. i really think that if she gets to the top the way she wants to she’d incite a lot of chaos but only in the way that she wouldn’t allow the rich to exist in the way that they have, sucking the life out of the middle and lower class.
other witches: “if you don’t do an entire ceremony with oils and an offer to the gods before/while you cleanse then you’re not really cleansing and you’re just waving burning leaves around.”
me: *at 2am in my underwear, clutching two lavender incense sticks, walking around my apartment bc i thought i saw something moving and i haven’t been able to sleep and have a really bad vibe*: “you’re getting the fuck out of my place and you’re getting out now, bitch.”
thank you anon! okay so I came up with two different aus because I love merman aus <333
1) FISHER VIKTOR & MERMAN YURI
AU where Viktor was forced to go fishing and he almost kills Yuri by accident (and Yuri almost kills Viktor by trying to drown him) but they forgive each other and fall in love ;7; <3 But in order to meet up with Yuri, Viktor has to pretend he’s going fishing everyday when really he’s meeting Yuri <333 (so kind of like a how to train your dragon au too)
2) MERMAN VIKTOR & //FORGETFUL// HUMAN YURI
//this is probably my fave ahaha// AU where merman Viktor is curious about the outside world and goes onto the beach but then nearly dies (he’s a fish;;;). Luckily, little Yuri saves him and brings/drags him home because he has no idea what to do (what do you do with a merman??). He puts him in the bathtub and they spend the next few weeks together as Viktor heals <3 //with Yuri secretly wishing he could stay a bit longer//. (Yuri’s parents are also away on vacation. Yuri has told Mari about the merman in their bathtub but she doesn’t actually believe him and thinks he’s just playing pretend in the bathroom so she doesn’t use it). BUTTTTT one day, Viktor suddenly disappears ;o;;; The beautiful mysterious merman is gone!! And Yuri is very sad and when he tries to tell his parents and his sister, they don’t believe him;;; //protect him asdfjkl;// and Yuri talks to Vicchan about it. Eventually, Yuri forgets about the merman he saved //and how he (indirectly) pROPOSED to him cOUGHS// //and he even made little matching “friendship” rings to match// and Vicchan dies :’))))
A FEW YEARS LATER;;;; GUESS WHO APPEARS IN HIS BATHTUB BUTT ASS NAKED ;A;;; <3 And this time Viktor is human too!! And claims to be Yuri’s fiance!! And Yuri is just overwhelmed (why is there a hot naked man in my bathtub) and confused :’D He didn’t know how to explain to others so Viktor has to pretend to be his coach until they can figure out how get him back to sea as a merman;;; //but Viktor plans on staying shhh//. Makkachin is a dog fish and Yurio also temporarily becomes a human to try to get Viktor back to sea but,,,, yeh that didn’t work *7* Viktor also cries to Makkachin after he realized Yuri doesn’t remember him ;v;;;
Will Yuri ever remember his long lost lover?? Will Yurio manage to get his instructor back to sea?? Will Viktor be able to pull off a game of pretend?? Will Yuri fall in love once again??
I drink milk every day because my doctor says I need it to grow. Kind of like I need this calcium rush in order to make my bones stronger so I stop cracking them so easily. Preventing them from ever reverting to the weak, knobbly knees of last summer when a boy I had a crush on. Had a crush on, crushed me. Like a pulp. Into grains. Like a spoon grinding up soggy cereal swimming at the bottom of a bowl. I wake up in the middle of the night, remembering I didn’t drink 3 glasses today, and run to the refrigerator in my socks and chug it straight from the gallon, barbaric and yearning like a schoolgirl hitching her skirt up too high, and picture the white flowing through my veins. Softening me. Rounding me out. Giving me curves. I get a brain freeze instead and pray I’ll stop crying over spills and that I can sleep with this cold lurching in my stomach.
Maybe one day my hair will stop being so limp in the heat, but I don’t think that kind of thing can be anticipated, so I just have to wait. Girls like me live in the back of an un-air-conditioned convenience store, ratty sweatpants, tight tank tops, and crawl out with week-old receipts bursting from their pockets. Like glued ribcage kind of girls, like elastic hair tie, red marks around the wrist kind of girls. The cashier doesn’t mind when I snag a magazine from the rack and browse through it without paying because no matter how hard I try, I end up looking pre-pubescent anyway. And they let things slide. For a girl like me, at least. I’m saying, lopsided bun, wide eyes, a mouthful of crooked teeth, stars pulling them into their places, I was always too scared to get braces. The cover has some headline about how to enlarge your breasts naturally, which I think might be useful, and another about how to communicate effectively with others without saying hurtful things, which makes me laugh. I flip to the back to check my horoscope and eat that prophetic, adolescent shit catered to the teenage soul up like Eucharist laid under the tongue. Swallow down a spoonful of March’s: “Prepare to face some stress this month, but that’s okay! You’ll be able to get through it and find time to relax.” I want to rip out the page and shove it into my bra, like keeping these soft, meaningless words close to my chest will make them seep into my heart and change me. Stop making me think so much, fill my brain up with Arizona tea and static instead. But I’m cheap, and I shove the magazine back. I think my chest will stay flat forever.
I seek healing. Mending. I’m fingernails deep, sitting in the back of a subway at 3 a.m., pressing crescent moons into the leather seat, trying to dig up salvation. You can’t find that here, you can’t find that in the cracks between the tiles, you can’t find comfort in the ground up cigarette butt stamped into the floor. I’m wishing against this fogged up glass I could say anything, anything that would make sense for once, so someone could help me. Like please, my mind is bending in backwards, like please, I don’t think this underdeveloped chest can take any more of this resentment or it’s going to explode through my ribcage, out of my flesh, like please, I don’t want to hurt anymore. And it’s not my fault that I launch myself around like I’m in some sick little competition, pretending I don’t care, like I’m having the time of my life. Of course I’m not, of course I’m not, I don’t think having your hands shake and your brain go fuzzy whenever you think a little too much is fun, something to be documented for the world to see. I guess I’m different from other people that way, I’d rather people think I’m having a good time than actually have one without anyone knowing. I wish I knew how to sew, so I could stitch up my fibrillating heart, no matter how sloppy and crooked, but the needle jabs my finger as the subway lurches left, and I bleed, I bleed, I bleed.
My mom told me not to walk naked in front of the altar. Disrespectful, she called it, and even though I agree, sometimes I test my divinity and emerge from the bathroom, the steam from the shower wafting off smoke like the incense in its pot. Young god, skin tinted green from fake gold. Young god, empty stomach, fruit scooped out of its rind, leaving me seedless. This hatred has roots, and I don’t know whether I want to dig out my insides with my hands or fill myself up until I’m close to bursting. I let people think the scratches on my knees are from a night of alcohol and a boy tugging my hair. Of course, it’s that and not child worship on a scratchy rug, not begging for forgiveness, not praying for glamour and glory, not hoping for. Of course it’s not hoping for something better.
Throwback Sunday - Jack talking about the channel (shortly after reaching 250k subs) and his fears of ending up getting lazy and not doing the best he could.
It’s funny to see how this fear has always been there but has never stopped him from putting all his energy into his work. If anything, it has made him stronger and more motivated, I think! And I really don’t think he’s messed it all up at all :D