soviet futurism

From: Tekhnika Molodezhi, 1967, Russia.

This is an Arcology, a colossal building envisioned by science fiction writers as being a city onto itself, so huge that a person never needs to actually leave, with hundreds of thousands of inhabitants each, packed like sardines.

Usually, I express admiration for concepts science fiction visionaries of the past came up with, and I am usually sorry they never came to be. With this one, I am glad it didn’t, because living like an ant without seeing the sun sounds like a horrible dystopia. I am delight it was replaced by the modern idea of living around well-maintained greenery, where cities have lots of parkland and trees.

enchantedbysuperman  asked:

hi what are your favorite/best buckynat fanfics from ao3? i'd want to start reading some. thank u! :)

My number #1-all-BuckyNat-fans-must-read fanfic rec is:

world looking in by irnan

You know that saying about old habits dying hard? It’s a cliché because it’s true.

And here are some of my other faves in alphabetical order (and check out the fic recs tag for even more recs):

and in which darkness by anomalocaris

It is 1962, and the world is changing. The future shines bright in Moscow, gleaming in the dark, and all the decades of suffering will soon at last bring their long-promised rewards. Utopia seems imminent.

Meanwhile, Natalia Romanova discovers the true cost of creating the Soviet Dream. What future is there for people like her? What is she fighting for? What can Natalia be loyal to, if not the Red Room?

(Or: a love story, told in the interstices of Mr. Khrushchev’s war.)

beyond here lies nothing by tremontaine

Bits and pieces of a vampire AU.

a case of you by irnan

Spy-like, Natasha Romanov pokes her nose in places it probably doesn’t belong, reads letters definitely not addressed to her, and attaches some distinctly odd sort-of-superstitions to other people’s personal belongings. Meanwhile Bucky Barnes is a very charming sort of person, even when he’s a little messed up.

find the words and the beat by irnan

In which Natasha is something of an Iron Woobie, Bucky is human and needs to be loved, just like everybody else does, and there’s a lot of Melodramatic Feelings.

Heavy by Wikiaddicted723

A Plot brews. The Black Widow tries to stop it. Somewhere between points A and B, the past comes knocking.

“Bodies are machines, and Natasha’s spent the better part of three decades learning to use them. She shoots and the glass breaks and the lights go out, and Natasha’s moving, moving, moving.”

i’ll be home for christmas (if only in my dreams) by girl0nfire

“Hearts always break. And so we bend with our hearts. And we sway. But in the end, what matters is that we loved and lived.”

Natasha Romanov remembers, slowly. And like with most things, destruction is easy; rebirth is not.

(Canon Fix-It for Ed Brubaker’s Winter Soldier arc “Black Widow Hunt.”)

Incendiary Vices and a Filthy Never Mind by nicalyse

In a mess of unknowns, there is a certainty, one thing that has become clear since they began working together again: She wants him.

I will write sonnets to the salt of sweat on your skin by girl0nfire, saturnmeetsmercury (jarofhearts)

This is our collection of mostly domestic, smutty one-shots about the lives of Bucky and Natasha. It started out as participation in the Smut-a-thon (most stories are written for a weekday and prompt), but we kept having more ideas that all take place in the same universe and wanted to be written.

Our Love Came Unannounced (in the Middle of the Night) by girl0nfire, saturnmeetsmercury (jarofhearts)

“If I did this with you, what you just did with me,” Natalia finally says, searching his eyes, “would that feel as good for you?” She feels him shiver below her, his head tipping back into her touches, and his voice is deeper when he replies.
“Yes.”

Some Of The Colors Have To Fade by impertinence

Bucky and Natasha drive around the country, taking out HYDRA agents. Along the way, Bucky learns a thing or two.

the city of three revolutions by yavanei

They call her by many names. The Widow. The Slavic Shadow. The Red Death.

They call him the Winter Soldier. Russia’s deadliest assassin. He has no name.

Years later, as more of the falsehoods and manufactured memories fall away; her mind brings back a single thread of truth to her. An American’s voice, quiet and intense, whispers her name - Natalia - into her ear at night, and it’s a ghost rattling around in the confines of her brain and in between the shattered spaces of her heart. It’s the color of blood dripping on pure white snow.

this bullet lodged in my chest, covered with your name by Cinaed

Some of Natasha’s memories are true, some are false, but throughout all of them runs one thread of remembrance: a cool metal hand gentle upon her back, tender against her cheek, tight around her throat; an assassin with a crooked smile and eyes like winter.

Who Compels My Strength by SakuraTsukikage

“Do you want me to stop?” he asked, smiling as he pressed another kiss into the hollow of her shoulder, she could feel it against her skin, even as his hand skimmed up under her shirt, gentle against the curve of her spine until he found the clasp of her bra and unhooked it easily.

Natasha smiled a little more, burying it with a kiss in his hair as she curled her fingers firmly into the thick hair at the nape of his neck, gripping it tightly so that she could tug at it. “Don’t you dare,” she said.

Arseny Avraamov’s Symphony of Sirens is really really interesting to listen to.  I wouldn’t say it’s enjoyable, necessarily, but it’s, like, actively not supposed to be.  It’s utterly fascinating.  If you like atmosphere type things, or enjoy dystopias, or have an interest in WWI or Soviet Russia, you might want to try it. It’s pretty dang awesome, if you’re into that kind of thing.

Fun fact: it was designed to be conducted by a team of conductors using flags and pistols.