radioactive wasteland

7

On April 26, 1986, a power surge caused an explosion at the Chernobyl Nuclear Power Plant near Pripyat, Ukraine. A large quantity of radioactive material was released.

On May 2, 1986, the Soviet government established a “Zone of Alienation” or “Exclusion Zone” around Chernobyl – a thousand square miles of “radioactive wasteland.” All humans were evacuated. The town of Pripyat was completely abandoned.

But the animals didn’t leave. And a new study, published this month in Current Biology, suggests they are doing fine. “None of our three hypotheses postulating radiation damage to large mammal populations at Chernobyl were supported by the empirical evidence,” says Jim Beasley, one of the researchers.

In fact, some of the populations have grown. These photos (mostly taken by Valeriy Yurko) come from the Belarusian side of the Exclusion Zone, and area called the Polessye State Radioecological Reserve. Kingfisher, elk, boar, baby spotted eagles, wild ponies, moose, rabbits, and wolves all make their home in the park. In some ways, human presence is worse for wildlife than a nuclear disaster.


Image credits:

  • 1986 Chernobyl - ZUFAROV/AFP/Getty Images
  • Wildlife photos - Valeriy Yurko/Polessye State Radioecological Reserve
  • Ponies in winter - SERGEI SUPINSKY/AFP/Getty Images

still breathing

A lil 4x03 bellarke speculation fic for your enjoyment

Bellamy can’t stand to watch Clarke cry.

Under other circumstances, he would consider himself strong. He threw away his chance at a normal life the moment he held baby Octavia in his arms, he’s gone to the ends of the Earth and back for her and the other delinquents time and time again. He’s watched loved ones die over and over and still pushed on—

But he can’t stand to watch Clarke cry.

As she sits in front of him, sobbing, he can’t help but to reach out to her, just a hand on her shoulder, a silent comfort, a gesture of solidarity. He lets it rest there for a second, giving her a light squeeze, and he’s about to pull away when she rests her hand over his, anchoring him.

Then she turns her head, resting her cheek over the hand that has a death grip on his. He can feel the wetness of her cheeks, and he is so, so weak.

Bellamy kneels in front of her, sliding the hand on her shoulder up her neck to delicately cup her jaw, his thumb swiping away a stray tear.

“Clarke,” he says, voice low. “We’ll figure this out. We always do.”

Another tear slips down her cheek, and he gently wipes it away. He brings his other hand to rest above her knee, thumb tracing patterns back and forth over the fabric there.

She reaches out and grips his shoulders, still catching her breath from crying, and its natural, the way his hand travels from her knee to rest on her hip, his thumb continuing the comforting circles over her hipbone.

Having her this close—it’s terrifyingly intimate. It’s more intimate than anything they’ve done before, but somehow, it still feels right. His heart feels like it’s beating out of his chest, but he’s breathing easier than he has in months.

He shivers when her hands on his shoulders snake around his neck, fingers curling into the ends of his hair. With a sigh, her head falls forward, forehead resting lightly on his, noses barely brushing.

They stay like that for a moment, just breathing the same air, and he can feel Clarke start to relax before him. It would be so easy, he thinks, to close the gap between them—only a few inches—and just kiss her.

He wants to map her body with his lips. He could make her pain go away, even for just a few minutes—he could make her feel good, if that’s what she wanted.

It startles him, when the thought crosses his mind, that it’s not what he wants.

Of course, he’d do anything he could to take her pain away.

But he wants more than that.

He knows, that as much as he’d like to kiss her at this moment, the timing is wrong. The way things are right now, with both of their still healing hearts, the ticking time bomb that is a nuclear apocalypse hanging over their heads—he could never have more.

It’s why he’s so caught off guard when Clarke closes the distance between them and presses her lips to his.

At first, she’s tentative, her kiss gentle and unsure. She presses another slow kiss to his cheek, his temple, his forehead, and then she seals her lips over his once more.

He’s ready this time, and against his better judgement, he kisses her back.

The second kiss is more demanding. She swipes her tongue across the seam of his lips, demanding entrance, and he gives it to her. She groans into his mouth, and that’s when he knows he’s fucked.

The hand resting on her hip slips under her shirt, smoothing over the soft skin of her stomach and sliding up her spine. His other hand curls around her neck, tangles in her hair, holding her as close as he possibly can.

One of her hands remains anchored in his hair while the other fists into the collar of his t-shirt.

Her mouth moves desperately against his, and she presses against him, silently pleading for more.

He lets his hand roam from her spine back to her stomach, and when he traces his fingers over the skin beneath the underwire of her bra, he feels her whole body shudder.

It takes all his willpower to wrench himself away from her mouth. He tries catch his breath, to get himself under control, to tell her that they can’t, but Clarke takes the opportunity he’s presented her and attaches her lips to his neck, trailing hot, wet kisses across his jaw and collarbone.

“Clarke,” he tries, but it comes out more like a sigh when he feels the light scrape of her teeth against his skin.

She finds his lips again, but he feels wetness on her cheeks. He pulls away.

“Clarke,” he says, more firm this time, and she hastily tries to wipe the tears from her face.

She brings her forehead back to his and grips his biceps. “Bellamy, please.”

He rubs his hands up and down her arms. “We can’t, Clarke. Not like this.” She looks at him then, her bright blue eyes boring into his. “Not when we only have months to live.”

He’s afraid, after he’s said it, that Clarke wouldn’t even want this if they weren’t about to die.

“What if we did?” she asks, and her voice is strong, sure. “What if we did have time?”

He searches her eyes for any evidence of hesitation or uncertainty, but he finds none. Instead, her eyes are clear.

It takes him a long time to find the words. “If you still want this after we both survive the end of the world,” he starts, and even he is surprised at the confidence in his words, “then I’ll be here.”

It feels like a promise, somehow, and she squeezes his arm to tell him that she feels it, too.

She looks at him then, eyes a little watery but otherwise composed. “You still have hope?” she asks.

He almost wants to laugh. The only reason he’s had hope since he landed on this radioactive wasteland of a planet is sitting right in front of him.

“Are we still breathing?”

anonymous asked:

You love Poland? Why hahahah. It's not often that I see someone say they love Poland, or any central/eastern/southern European country really.

Do I love Poland?

Do I love Poland?

YOU MUST BE NEW HERE. THERE IS NOTHING I LOVE MORE THAN POLAND.

POLAND WAS THE MOST ENLIGHTENED COUNTRY IN MEDIEVAL EUROPE.

POLISH ART AND MUSIC SHAPED ALL OF WESTERN CULTURE.

POLAND HAS BEEN WIPED COMPLETELY OFF THE MAP THREE TIMES AND REFUSED TO FUCKING DIE.

DO YOU KNOW WHO CONTRIBUTED THE LARGEST NUMBER OF TROOPS TO WORLD WAR II AFTER THE SOVIET UNION, BRITAIN, AND AMERICA? NOT CANADA! NOT FRANCE! THAT’S RIGHT, FUCKING POLAND.

OH, WHAT’S THAT YOU SAY? WASN’T POLAND CONQUERED OUTRIGHT AT THE OUTSET OF WORLD WAR II?

IT SURE AS FUCK WAS. BUT THE ARMY REFUSED TO STOP FIGHTING. THERE WAS LITERALLY NOT A SINGLE SQUARE YARD OF POLISH LAND RULED BY POLES, AND 400,000 POLISH SOLDIERS JUST SAID “WELL FUCK YOU TOO” AND FOUGHT FOR THE ENTIRE WAR.

DO YOU KNOW WHO BROKE THE NAZIS ENIGMA CODE? OH DID YOU THINK IT WAS BRITAIN? IT WASN’T BRITAIN. IT WAS POLAND. THEY GAVE THEIR ALGORITHMS TO THE BRITISH AFTER THEY REALIZED THEY WOULD BE IN NO POSITION TO USE THEM.

DO YOU KNOW WHICH COUNTRY RAN THE MOST EFFECTIVE RESISTANCE MOVEMENT IN WORLD WAR II? DID YOU THINK IT WAS FRANCE? YOU WERE WRONG. POLAND.

DO YOU KNOW WHICH COUNTRY BROKE THE BACK OF THE SOVIET UNION BY HOLDING SURPRISE DEMOCRATIC ELECTIONS AND OUSTING THEIR COMMUNIST OPPRESSORS ALMOST OVERNIGHT? POLAND.

AMERICA DIDN’T END THE COLD WAR. WE JUST GOT ALL THE GOOD PRESS FOR IT. THE SAVAGE GROIN-KICK THAT ENDED THE USSR CAME FROM POLAND.

WHAT COUNTRY HAS BEEN MORE RESILIENT THAN POLAND. WHAT COUNTRY HAS FOUGHT HARDER FOR ITS RIGHT TO EXIST THAN POLAND. WHAT COUNTRY’S HISTORY IS MORE STUDDED WITH HEART-STOPPING, HEART-BREAKING, HOPELESS, HEROIC ACTS OF DEFIANCE THAN THAT OF POLAND.

THE WESTERN POWERS HAVE BETRAYED POLAND’S TRUST AND HEROISM SO MANY TIMES, BUT POLAND KEEPS FIGHTING BECAUSE THAT’S WHAT POLAND DOES.

AFTER POLAND WAS CONQUERED IN WWII, THE SECRET UNDERGROUND ARMY THAT FOUGHT HITLER THROUGHOUT THE WAR TOOK THIS OATH:

“Before God the Almighty, before the Holy Virgin Mary, Queen of the Crown of Poland, I put my hand on this Holy Cross, the symbol of martyrdom and salvation, and I swear that I will defend the honor of Poland with all my might, that I will fight with arms in hand to liberate her from slavery, notwithstanding the sacrifice of my own life, that I will be absolutely obedient to my superiors, that I will keep the secret, whatever the cost may be.”

I HAVE CHILLS. FUCK. FUCK.

POLAND’S CURRENT POLITICAL SYSTEM MAY BE A GODDAMNED MESS, BUT I KNOW THAT NO MATTER WHAT HAPPENS TO POLAND, THERE WILL ALWAYS BE A POLAND. POLAND’S GOING TO BE THE LAST MAN STANDING. WHEN WE’VE REDUCED THE PLANET TO A RADIOACTIVE WASTELAND, THE PEOPLE WHO CRAWL OUT OF THE RUBBLE AND STICK THEIR FLAG ON THE GLASSED HILLSIDES OF THEIR FORMER HOMES ARE GOING TO BE THE POLES.

First Impressions: Peebee

Peebee’s first impression of Scout Ryder when she tackles her on Eos.


Peebee’s first impression of Scout Ryder is… yummy. Followed by weirdo. And then yummy again.

Peebee’s first impression of Scout Ryder is… yummy. Followed by weirdo. And then yummy again.

Messing around with the Remnant console Peebee has been studying, managing to activate it in seconds—not fair by the way, it took Peebee months to figure out how to do that—the stout woman was looking very official in her Initiative armor…with flowers painted all over it.

Peebee amended her first impression: the human Pathfinder was weird. Weird, weird, weird, weird.

Peebee was still trying to wrap her mind around the flower-power armor (seriously, who painted flowers on their armor?) when she noticed the Pathfinder was about to do something else to the Remnant console. Crap.

“Wait!” She charged across the Remnant platform and tackled the human Pathfinder.

Or, well, she tried to.

Turns out the flower-wearing dork was, uh, pretty strong. And she had great balance; she only rocked back a step when Peebee collided with her. Now the Pathfinder was holding Peebee up by her thighs, looking up at her with a curious expression and laughing eyes. Peebee stared down at her dumbly, “Uh…”

“Not that this is the first time an asari as thrown themselves into my arms, it just doesn’t usually happen on radioactive wastelands trying to kill me.”

“Ryder.” The other human woman sighed without lowering her gun from Peebee’s head. “Please.”

Ryder smirked and tilted her head towards the other woman, laughing eyes never leaving Peebee’s. “Alright, alright. It has happened on a radioactive wasteland but only once and really, Josunta wasn’t nearly as beautiful as this goddess.”

“Oh I like you.” Peebee chirped with a bright smile, staring into Ryder’s eyes; it was surprisingly easy to get lost in them.

“Right back ‘atcha, darlin’.”

That made the vaguely familiar turian lady to the left chuckle quietly. “Oh boy.”

My thoughts on the new season so far:

Wow, they really went there. I kind of hoped Trump would chill out once he got office but he’s as darkly entertaining as in the season finale.

I like the realism in them not shoehorning each country into the same roles each time and showing nuance and places changing. If the Fuhrer Trump theory pans out then Germany and American will have swapped roles and that’s really cool.

But I don’t think that’s exactly what they’ll do, and I hope not even though I know that’s what a lot of the fan base wants. Hitler was a really epic villain but I want the twenty first century to do its own thing. (Although there’s this crack theory pointing out that they’ve just about got the tech level to clone a whole army of Hitlers.)

I suppose there’s that other theory they might twist it again and make Germany lead to the downfall of the West via accepting all those refugees, but that wouldn’t make a whole lot of sense.

Looks like they might resolve the will they or won’t they with nuclear war! They’ve made it pretty clear the USA and Russia won’t do it, unless those idiots in charge break up and have it out. But I hope not, that plotline was getting kind of stale. And it’s prompting all this cute fanart of our favourite dictator couple. ^.^

But they also seem to be building up to the global warming apocalypse scenario, or if not an existential risk at least fucking things up.

I’m glad to see Australia getting some airtime, they could be more influential than they look. Is this latest thing with immigration just a taste of what’s to come? I found Tony Abbott more fun to watch and wish they hadn’t switched to the banal dirtbaggery of Turnbull, but maybe we need a foiI for the buffoons like Trump. I know a bunch of people were rooting for Australia but yeah we should have seen this coming. Things looked pretty good with Gillard, but that was an anomaly. Canada’s not getting too dirty though, and New Zealand isn’t either. Yeah, sorry, I’m one of those NZ fans. But I’m rolling my eyes about how Canada’s leader is the young hot one, we get it he’s the good guy, geez. Although we got a Gorbachev cameo and he’s not what I’d call conventionally attractive, so. And Peter Thiel is a pretty good looking bad guy, drinking the blood of the young is paying off. I gotta go see if there’s fanart of when they start dressing the part. I’m kind of hopeful he’ll switch sides and is simply after power without endorsing Trump per se. At least he doesn’t want to rule over a radioactive desert wasteland?

2

[AFTER THE BOMB] is a writing mix about gray skies, gas masks, and a nuclear winter that will end everything as we know it. The wind stops, the sea is still, and the earth has begun to rot. Our world is… dying.

This playlist contains 17 of my favorite tracks for writing post- apocalyptic settings, abandoned cities, and radioactive wastelands. You remember the bomb and the first nuclear snow. It seemed so harmless back then, when it was just snowflakes and soot. The world has changed, though. You venture out of your safe house. You attempt to travel to the city, with the hopes of finding an answer to the question that has been killing you faster than the cold and the starvation. You venture past corpses in the snow and the skeleton of a skyscraper. The world is deathly quiet, and you know why. You’re living through the last winter. But, you think there is a way to undo the poison that is killing the planet.

Let’s hope it doesn’t kill you first.

♪ Listen to this mix on 8tracks ♪

Looking for more writing playlists? I have you covered! Click HERE to check out my other mixes! Made by writers, for writers :D

Oh, and if you want more writerly content, then follow my blog for your daily dose of prompts, advice, and writer positivity: maxkirin.tumblr.com!

+Meihem headcanons

Trying to contribute positively instead of negatively like always


  •  Mei ended up apologizing to Junkrat for judging his cover instead of trying to understand him better. He told her it really didn’t matter, that it was fine, but Mei kept apologizing about how she was the one being somewhat of the bully, and she wished she could start all over.
  • Junkrat stubbornly accepts Mei’s apologies, but also apologizes for teasing her so harshly at times. They both were a bit rude to each other.

  • Mei is very self conscious about her “real” age, and it gets her down, especially when she brings up that she’s way to old for someone like Junkrat. Junkrat tries to comfort her and get her to believe he doesn’t care about her age or his, and joke about how she looks like a young twenty year old while he’s already a gruff old man.

  • It makes her laugh, even though she says that’s a terrible thing to say about himself. He doesn’t care, because it always gets her to laugh and smile again.

  • Jamison is now more concerned about his health, only for Mei’s sake, because of how emotional she gets when she finds out about his horrible habits and how careless he is with his life. 

  • He bathes a bit more regularly, for Mei, and tries to be more careful when working on his explosions and testing them. 

  • Mei does nag him a lot about being safe, but still allows him to do as he wants with his bombs, since he enjoys it so much. She also trusts Roadhog will keep him safe for her.

  • Junkrat suffers from severe anxiety, possibly PTSD from witnessing and living in the radioactive wasteland that is Australia. It took a bit for Mei to realize this when they began sleeping together, and she’d wake up to him tossing and turning, crying or yelling. There have been other incidents as well.

  • One incident involved Junkrat hitting Mei when she tried to touch him, and when he finally came to terms of what happened, he apologized to her for days, not touching her or going to close to her.

  • Mei forgave him, especially after having talked to Roadhog about all of the incidents with Junkrat. It took her awhile to convince him she wanted him to touch her and be close with her, but he was afraid he’d hurt her again.

  • Since then they’ve talked intensely, and Mei had taken Roadhog’s advice about how to deal with Junkrat’s sudden panic attacks and night terrors without harming herself or Jamison. 

  • While Mei had figured that out about Junkrat, Junkrat figured out that Mei has an incredibly severe fear of small places, and pitch dark places. She has to sleep with some type of light on in her room.

  • During their deep conversations, Junkrat figured out why she was afraid of closeted spaces and the dark; it was because of her experience down in Antarctica. It was difficult for her to share, but he tried his best to comfort her and thanked her for sharing something that bitter.

  • Whenever possible, the two try to help each other with what they’re working on; Mei enjoys helping Junkrat with his projects and contraptions, handing him a tool here, screw this in place here. Also listening to him ramble on about his passion for what he does is always a highlight for Mei

  • Likewise, Junkrat tries to do whatever he can to help Mei with her studies and research, although there’s not much except handing her certain books or files off of the shelves, so he keeps her company. He’ll ask her questions with honest curiosity, and watch her face light up as she answers with a sincere smile, or just listening to when she herself talks and talks about her research, what confuses her, what fascinates her.

  • Surprisingly, they get irritated or annoyed when the other members of Overwatch attempt to disturb them during their work, and only seem to tolerate each other.


This my second attempt at meihem headcanons.

proposal: Vishkar Roadhog or Junker D.Va as Symm’s partner in crime?

lots of ideas for the au idk man I love aus

is symm sorta loony and junkrat calm and orderly? or do they keep their personalities- or it is a mix.. like Orderly Chaos vs. Chaotic Order?? am I making sense?

Is India a radioactive wasteland while Australia is launched into being all.. hard.. lighty…? Idk man.

I like the idea of them having the same weapons but themed appropriately. Picture a hard light RIP-Tire and tell me it isn’t cool as shit- or a teleporter made of scraps that everyone’s kinda nervous about using?

youtube

I’m about to be Old On Tumblr; will you all please bear with me? Because I’d like to tell you a thing about the ‘80s. (Well, probably more than one thing.)

Right now we look back at the ‘80s and see bad hair and bad clothes and music of questionable aesthetic value and shake our heads. But, having been there, I can tell you there are basically two factors that explain it all.

First:

Originally posted by tillchicagowin

Second, we were all aware that there was a non-zero chance we were going to be nuked in our sleep on any given night, and the odds of that seemed to be going continuously upwards, because our parents and their parents had elected a right-wing militarist to the Presidency. Reagan gave us trickle-down economics, the War on Drugs, union-busting, Iran-Contra, Antonin Scalia, condiments as vegetables for school lunch purposes, and an ineffective response to the AIDS crisis, but mostly what’s relevant to my point here is that he also gave us an all-out arms race with the Soviet Union.

In retrospect, it… kind of worked? The idea was to force the Soviets to keep up with US military spending, assuming the US economy could handle the increase and the Soviet economy couldn’t, and that’s basically what happened. But at the time, it was terrifying. Here we were, just getting ready to get going in life, and the world is getting more and more dangerous, and we’re invading Grenada, and there’s a proxy war in Nicaragua, and building more and more nukes, and working on this satellite laser system (that ultimately didn’t work) that’s supposed to shoot down the Soviet nukes but that’s just freaking the Soviets out and maybe will freak them out enough that they shoot first while they still can? and rattling every saber he could rattle everywhere else in the world. We were certainly not going to use our nuclear weapons first, because we were the United States of America and we didn’t do that kind of thing (hey, I was a teenager and not especially woke), but what if we scared the Evil Empire (Reagan’s words) enough that they made that first strike?

So… basically, there was a certain nihilistic streak to the pop culture of the ‘80s. When there’s a non-zero chance you’re going to get nuked in your sleep, you don’t worry too much about the future you’re probably not going to get to have.

Then 1991 rolled around. The Soviet Union spent the summer and fall disintegrating, and twenty-five years ago almost to the day it was officially dissolved and it was like a collective weight was lifted off us. Right then, right there, that was the time to be alive, because we were all going to get to live.  

For the next twenty-five years, every time I heard that song - the one in the video at the top of the post - I felt that lightness again.

In the eighth grade, my daughter had to write a paper on the Holocaust that gave her nightmares while she was doing the research. I comforted her as best I could and I was secretly glad of it because in the eighth grade, I had to write a paper on which four of these twelve people I would let into my hypothetical bomb shelter knowing the other eight would die and if she was writing about the Holocaust it was because for her, bomb shelters were never going to be a thing.

Today, I feel so… disillusioned? The weight’s been dropped back on me, the lurking existential dread is back, and I play that video and I want to cry because it feels like a promise has been broken.

Russia is under the control of one of the very few humans on this planet who missed the Cold War. He missed it so much he launched it again, entirely one-sided, on a much subtler and less expensive battlefield; he won it before we even noticed it was back on.

And the United States, in about a month, will be handing the authority to launch nuclear weapons to a narcissist with anger management issues.

I wasn’t kidding during the election campaign when I said that one reason I was supporting Hillary was that I was 99.9999% certain she wouldn’t launch the nukes because someone subtweeted her and I couldn’t say the same about Trump. 

The thing is, for all that I now oppose almost everything Reagan stood for, I recognize that he was still more or less on the Reasonable People Differ scale, and I believe that he would not have actually been willing to turn the planet into a wasteland of radioactive glass without something he considered to be a damn good reason and due consideration of other possibilities.

At 3 AM, all Trump knows is that someone said something insufficiently flattering about him and he’s going to make them pay. And a coworker of mine who’s ex-military, when I asked him what kind of checks and balances there might be if Trump decides he needs to show some other country who’s boss and calls for a nuclear launch, said “Do you remember that movie with Gene Hackman and Denzel Washington on a submarine?”

Bomb shelters may be a thing for my daughter after all. And that’s one more thing I will never forgive Trump’s voters for.

toothlessloveshiccup  asked:

Hiccup lay his head down in his mistress's lap, rubbing against her hand for attention as she ordered her warriors around. They were going water-hunting and oil-chasing, bullet-getting and war-making, to bring back supplies to the tower they had built, their safespace in the radioactive wastelands that had once been Las Vegas. Rapunzel would drive soon, leading the war band and leaving Hiccup behind, chained in his cage to ensure his safety. He didn't want her to leave, not that anyone asked.

Rapunzel moved her hand to rest on Hiccup’s head. She stared down at the map in front of her. Supplies were getting scarce but there was rumor of a recently abandoned area with some supplies. “And how sure are you that there are supplies?” She asked the scout twins.

2

“Turns out I do better as a 200-year-old relic in a radioactive wasteland than I ever did when things were ‘safe’ and ‘normal’. Who knew?”

“You’d think people would think twice about trying to shoot or rob a kid, but uh, you’d be wrong! So that’s fun.”

fuck i love post-apocalyptic aesthetic so much

i’m way too into this idea

…how the hell am i gonna draw ghoul sans and pap, lmao

  • Tracer: So, what’s your story, Roadhog?
  • Roadhog: ...There’s no story. Go talk to the Chinese shiela if you want stories.
  • Tracer: Come on, a globe-trotting mercenary like yourself? Must’ve had a few good adventures.
  • Roadhog: Hm. Well, there was this one time my country blew up and became a radioactive wasteland. That was fun.
  • Submitted by Keakjoinunroq3giudsoni

Headcanon: The Junker’s crimespree was more Roadhog’s idea than Junkrat’s, and is more about guilt than mayhem. According to Overwatch lore, Junkrat was about five-years-old when the Outback was turned into a radioactive wasteland. Now, aside from money, look at what they’re stealing in the special report of A Moment In Crime - ice cream, soda, toys, etcetera. All kids’ stuff. When you take this into consideration, the spree isn’t solely about crime and chaos. It’s essentially Mako attempting to rectify the fact that his actions during the first Omnic Crisis essentially robbed Junkrat of any chance at  normal life.

- Submitted by erikhowlett.

Handle With Care (formerly Explosive) - Part One

The first part of a Meihem fanfiction wherein Mei is left alone at the Overwatch base with the recently-recruited Junkrat. Hijinks shall ensue. Part Two can be found here! And Part Three is here.

This fic was formerly titled Explosive, but I changed it. I found a title I like more. Sue me.

P.S. I totally blame @yuramec and @coulsart for my obsession with this ship… If you haven’t checked their art out already, DO IT.

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