pre-war

First Date

Summary: In light of Boruto episode 17, here’s how I think SasuSaku’s first date went! Sakura’s flashback as she reminisces on the bench. Post-war, pre-travels.


Sakura sits down on the bench overlooking the water, her hand instinctively reaching out to feel the wooden panels. Time had weathered them a bit, but they were still as she remembered them. The shiny reflects of sunlight atop the waves bring her back almost immediately.

-

“Naruto, we just wanted to see the fireworks. We’ve been wandering through the forest for half an hour now all because you supposedly know of a secret spot to see them from,” Sakura complained, annoyed that they’d even considered trusting Naruto.

The festival had been dying down in anticipation for the show of fireworks to come. This was probably the last outing they’d get together as Team 7, since they were expecting Sasuke’s departure soon now that he’d been pardoned for his crimes. He was never one for participating in these activities, usually leaving Sakura and Naruto to enjoy the events without him bringing the mood down. Now that he was uncertain about the length of time he’d be away, when they’d proposed one last outing together, he felt guilty saying no. That’s how the three of them, along with Kakashi, found themselves lost in a maze of trees. 

“Sakura-chan, don’t you worry! I’ll have us out of here in no time!” The eccentric blond flashed her his thousand watt smile, with a thumbs up for good measure, but Sakura remained unimpressed. 

They continue on like this for a few minutes before Sakura breaks away from the group, seemingly distracted by something. Sasuke was well aware that she was perfectly capable of taking care of herself, but old habits tend to die hard. It was dark, they didn’t know exactly where they were, and he felt better knowing that she wouldn’t be going alone. His feet carry him in the same direction as hers, leaving behind his best friend and former sensei. They had taken to bickering amongst themselves, with Kakashi offering dry and subtle quips about Naruto’s spontaneous nature, and Naruto returning with hot-headed replies about his perverted, old-man ways. 

Sakura glances back at him, letting him know that she was aware he was coming with her, but not offering anything about where she was headed. He soon understands that she is intrigued by a fire lit atop of a tower. Wordlessly, they both pass through some bushes and come upon a bench overlooking the sea. 

The nearly full moon was perfectly in view, creating shimmers on the peaceful waters before them. Sakura smiles at him before taking a seat on the bench, her gaze fixated on the reflection of the moon in the water. 

She is surprised to find that Sasuke not only sits on the bench close to her, but places his hand over her outstretched one. She assumes that it’s accidental and makes to move her hand away, lest he be uncomfortable. Before she gets the opportunity, however, his fingers curl ever so slightly over hers. It wasn’t enough to lock them in place, should she decide to move away, but it was evident that he was holding her hand. 

The pinkette stares down at their hands, her mouth hanging slightly open in shock. His hold on her neither tightens nor loosens, and they share this stolen moment where time seems to hang in the air before them, unseen, unmoving. Her gaze travels up to his face then, and she is glad that he continues to look straight ahead, unable to see the rosy hue that colors her cheeks. She remains unaware that his cloak covers the heat that warms the back of his neck. 

The first firework goes off before them, and Sakura can’t help but smile; a silent thank you to the universe for allowing them this almost surreal opportunity. They both knew that there wouldn’t be many for the time being. 

Her thumb curls slightly over his pinky as the next few fireworks light up the night sky, their reflection a myriad of colors on the surface of the sea. Their hands are calloused and rough from years of training, yet the touch between them is gentle. His palm is warm, and there is a comfort in the feel of his fingers holding hers. For a few more moments, they are contented by each other’s presence, not feeling the need to exchange words. 

“OI, KAKASHI-SENSEI, I FOUND IT.” Their knuckleheaded teammate emerges from the bushes, but they have already moved away from one another, putting some distance between them on the bench. Kakashi emerges a moment later behind Naruto, taking the scene in from behind. 

“Oh, is this the spot you were talking about, Naruto? I could’ve brought us here ages ago,” Sakura says, playfully condescending. She glances over at Sasuke, offering him a playful smile. 

He only smirks slightly in return, offering a simple, “hn.”

One may have missed the short, meaningful look between them behind Naruto’s complaining, but Kakashi was still as sharp as ever. He sits down between them on the bench, offering them both a warm, knowing smile beneath his mask. Only at this does Sakura slightly blush, and Sasuke turn his head away, clearing his throat. 

The rest of the night is lost in conversation amongst the four of them beneath a sky full of explosions. It was contrary to the spark that lit between them when their hands touched; two and a half minutes that would that would lead to a forever-burning fire.

Okay this is kind of a stupid idea but what if there was an actual restaurant in the wasteland?? Like I know there are places like the bars and the noodle stand in Diamond City, but I’m talking about a place where you sit down, order, your food is brought to you and then you pay sort of thing.

It’d probably be in Goodneighbour (because as we all know, Goodneighbour is the land of opportunity), so it’d most likely be owned by a ghoul. There’d be some sort of theme to it, and all the wait-staff would be girls in pin-up-esque uniforms. All of the kitchen equipment would be salvaged from pre-war restaurants and would be fixed up as best as it could.

As for the menu, the owner would make deals with farms across the Commonwealth for their vegetables and brahmin meat, so they could serve steaks and things like that. I imagine they could also make stews with veggies and various meats. And of course, they’d serve Nuka Cola and alcoholic beverages for drinks.

I feel like everyone in Diamond City would be like ‘oh well yeah I can only imagine what a hell-hole that is, being in Goodneighbour and all’ but they’d be secretly jealous because they don’t have anything like that. But then a few people would sneak over there and suddenly it’d be the talk of the town and even the snotty people from the upper stands would be going there.

They’d have nights were live performers would come in (singers, poets, comedians, etc…) and entertain people while they ate. As well as an open mic night, and you can bet your ass some of the companions would be up there like dancing monkeys. 

anonymous asked:

If you don't have too many prompts all piled up in your inbox I'd love some pre-serum Steve having to take care of Bucky for once.

“You’re a dumbshit.”

“See, I’m nice to you when you get your ass kicked.” Bucky grunts as Steve prods his swollen cheekbone a little harder than necessary. 

“You give me nine shades of hell when I get my ass kicked. You’re always a jerk.” Steve prods the developing bruise again and Bucky’s sure he’s doing it on purpose. “I oughta kick your ass again right here, the hell were you thinking?”

“Pretty sure the beer was thinking for me at that point.” Bucky snipes back, which was clearly the wrong thing to say because Steve moves onto his fucked up shoulder with no more gentleness to his touch. 

Bucky sighs thickly through his bloody nose and grabs a washcloth from the bowl, holding it against his cheek with a hiss. He’s usually the one ending fights rather than getting in them, pulling Steve out of the fire, so he doesn’t understand why the guy’s getting all pissy now the tables are turned. Sure, Steve’s scraps are usually for more noble reasons than ‘didn’t want to pay his card debt’ (even if Bucky thinks some of them are equally stupid), but still. 

“The Morans, Buck. Really?” Steve’s still spitting mad after a few minutes of tense silence. Bucky’s shirt is pretty much only good for rags now, but Steve’s cleaned him up pretty well and made sure there’s nothing broken, at least. Which means it’s time to yell at him some more, of course. “You shouldn’t even be fucking playing with them, let alone-”

“I was drunk, okay? Christ.” Bucky lets his head roll back to rest against the cabinet, sitting on the counter like a kid. Steve had marched him there as soon as he opened the door, a direct mirror of their usual patterns - no matter that Steve struggles to reach his face that high. “It was a dumb mistake. I was just blowing off some steam.”

Steve throws Bucky’s ruined shirt in the sink with a wet slap, and when he turns around his expression is unreadable. Maybe it’s the buzz he’s still got drifting through his veins, but Bucky blinks in bewilderment when Steve grabs his undershirt and yanks him down so they’re eye level. 

“If you could not blow off steam in ways that’ll get you killed, I’d appreciate it.” His voice is clipped, but his fingers are suddenly gentler as he grabs Bucky’s chin, ostensibly to keep his attention. “You’re all I got in the world, asshole. I don’t need you leaving it too.”

There’s a whole world in the few inches between their faces now, as Bucky realises the anger behind those blue eyes is hiding fear, and something in him wants to just lean forward and touch…

“M’sorry.” He says quietly, afraid to break the spell. “I won’t do it again.”

“Good.” Steve’s eyes flick to his lips again and he swallows hard before letting Bucky go, turning his attention back to the business of cleaning up. Bucky says bent over for a moment, blindsided by the fact he’s breathing hard and wants nothing more than to come up with some pretext to take Steve in his arms and hold him. 

What the hell?

“You should go to bed.” Steve says over his shoulder, clearly not ready to completely forgive Bucky for scaring him tonight. “You’re gonna have one hell of a headache tomorrow.”

“Penance.” Bucky tries to sound contrite as he gingerly gets off the counter, aches and pains starting to set in. He tries to lighten the mood by ducking into Steve’s line of vision, because his chest feels weird about making Steve sad. “Gimme a Hail Mary and call it even?”

“You ain’t cute.” Steve tries to sound deadpan, but Bucky can see the slight lift in one corner of his mouth. Success. “Go to bed, asshole.”

Bucky bites his tongue and resists making a flirty joke back, like he usually would, because somehow it doesn’t really seem like a joke anymore. He gives in and goes to bed so he doesn’t have to think about that, passing out before he can see Steve watching him thoughtfully from the other side of the room. 

“Yeah... Sure” Drabble

Relationships: Pre-Serum!Steve x Reader; Bucky x Sister!Reader (Platonic)
Prompt: Imagine being Bucky’s Sister and dating Steve (from @alloftheimaginesblog)
Characters: Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes, Reader.
Word Counting: 339
Warnings: None, actually.
Imagine link



“You’re taking her back by ten.” Bucky pointed at Steve by your side.

“Midnight.” You corrected him.

Your older brother stared at you for a moment, his eyes almost making holes in your face.

“Eleven.” He said back.

“Eleven and a half.” You continued, not even a bit intimidated.  

Bucky shook his head as Steve just watched you two, blushing at the exchange of looks you two had.

Bucky was always over protective about you, and it didn’t change when you decided dating his childhood best friend. Of course he trusted Steve, but you were his little sister, for God sake. He needed to protect you.

You two were like twins. You looked like twins and everyone always guessed you were the same age when both reached the teens, but you were actually two years younger than Bucky. You had the same eyes and smile and, of course, stubbornness.

“Eleven and fifteen.” He decided.

You were ready to argue, but Steve interrupted you softly.

“Eleven and fifteen.”  The blonde haired man agreed and you looked at him, making him blush a bit.

Steve wasn’t so shy with you anymore. You were together for a couple of months now, and he wasn’t blushing so much every time you looked at him, held his hand or kissed his lips.

“Bye bye, brother.” You smirked, pulling Steve to leave the house, but your brother stopped you two before you could go.

“Remember, punk.” He looked at his best friend. “You hurt her, you lose your head.”

Steve gulped loudly, and you rolled your eyes, dragging him out with you.

You were already outside when you turned to your flushed date.

“You know he’s just kidding, right?”

Steve nodded, but his mind quickly ran to the memory of the boy who had taken a kiss from you without your consent when you were a teen, and how Bucky had almost destroyed his face.

“Yeah.” He took a deep breath. “Sure.“


Tags: @lilasiannerd @andyl394

Music in Fallout

Music in Fallout is a big part of the games, everyone has a favorite radio station, a favorite song, a memory they associate with the songs. But the 50s tunes are more than just background noise.

Fallout’s music is reflective of the game it appears in in many ways. For example, Fallout New Vegas is set in the American West, so the radio stations play mainly country. Not only is this appropriate for the theme, but it also fits the idea of what Pre-War Americans living in the Nevada area would have listened to. Fallout 3 & 4’s music is very jazz heavy, which also fits the idea of what a Pre War American in New England may have liked.

In Fallout: New Vegas, the country music has heavy themes of love, money, or moving on to something new. The songs all represent these themes in different ways, some songs are about falling in love (Mad About the Boy), leaving a trail of lovers behind you (Jingle, Jangle, Jingle), or missing a lover you had long ago (Johnny Guitar). It’s important that even though there are common themes within the radio songs, they are all very different. The themes of love, money, or moving on are also representative of what many people in the Mojave Wasteland want.

In Fallout 3 and 4, the music has mostly songs of either love, death, or radiation. Even the some of the songs about love have radiation incorporated (Crawl Out Through the Fallout & Rocket 69). The radio playing in the post nuclear apocalypse are almost all about the thing that demised the world. I believe it boils down to something simple that I’ve seen discussed many times.

The East Coast can’t move on from the nuclear war. Even 200 years after the war, people in the Capital Wasteland and Commonwealth are living in dilapidated shacks and have ghouls living in their basement. The ‘successful’ towns are glorified shantytowns of thrown together metal, nestled inside pre war locations (Megaton, Rivet City, Diamond City). The music represents the people of Fallout 3 and 4; they can’t move on.

Fallout: New Vegas, on the other hand, has little to no music relating to death or radiation. The people in New Vegas have towns all over the map, have electricity and the NCR was working on building a railroad all the way around the Mojave. They have simply moved on from the war that happened over 200 years ago.

New Vegas has messages of letting go (Dead Money) and the theme of ‘Old World Blues’, meaning people are clinging onto the pre war past instead of moving on and rebuilding society. The people of the Mojave Wasteland have moved on and rose up, while the people of the East have Old World Blues

The Sole Survivor gets along better with Pre-War Ghouls then they get along with humans. That is because they both come from “The Good Old Days”, or the pre-war world. The Sole Survivor shares stories of growing up before the Great War and trades them with pre-war Ghouls who have their own stories.

Coming home to you. Steve Rogers X reader

Originally posted by waterdragon19


“Deliver!” y/n’s head shot up from the sound at the door. Delivery? She didn’t even order anything? y/n looked at the clock hanging on the wall. 10:15 pm. She was kind of getting scared. She got up from the couch and turned off the tv. She stood at the ends of her toes to look through the front door peephole to see who was at the door, but it was too dark out and the figure was shadowy, hiding behind a cloaked hoodie. Her heart pumped hard in her chest.

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