Really lovely AU of the Korra finale. Korra doesn't know how to explain that she doesn't know how not to fight; the idea will just seem alien to somebody like Pema. She misses the harshness of firebending, the swiftness of waterbending, the solidity of earthbending. Airbending feels a little bit like running away, dancing off in circles and dodging the hits instead of delivering them. She knows that's not true, of course- she doubts she could take Tenzin in a fight if he didn't hold back, for a start. But it's not her. I wish the show had given us more of this.
…My heart’s in Accra » When the world is your dance teacher
In 2005, Matt Harding posted a video on the internet. It’s a compilation of clips of him dancing – badly – in locations around the world. It was his video postcard of an extended walkabout, a vacation that began in 2003 when he quit his job and started following his Aussie friends on their global… Read More »When the world is your dance teacher
Steve and Natasha go on a life-changing field trip. To find the Winter Soldier. This is exactly what I want from the movies. Steve and Natasha finding Bucky and bringing him home, with achingly tender threesome action.
“You’re not saying no,” Tony says, pointedly. “It sounds plausible,” Bruce admits. “They had all kinds of samples. I know they did.” “Poorly secured,” Tony states more than asks. Bruce just shrugs. “What I don’t get,” Bruce begins, then trails off. “This is not the first thing I’d do. Or the second. Or…” “Yeah,” Tony agrees. “Why are the villains always so stupid?” “I’m not sure stupid is the right word,” Bruce says. “You tell anyone about this?” “I was waiting for a second,” Tony says. “You want to make a motion?” “There are a lot of steps between the idea and the execution.” “It says they ‘successfully produced viable offspring,’ on the last report,” Tony quotes. “That’s what sent the flare up to SHIELD.” Bruce nods, shrugs again. “You just don’t want it to be true,” Tony says. “Well, yeah,” Bruce says. “Do you?” This is sweet and funny. Oh, Steve.
Sometimes he wanders the streets of his city and thinks that New York is changed so completely he barely recognises it, changed so much Steve doesn't know how he finds his way home at night, changed to the point where it's not his city anymore, panic-attack-inducing knowledge, burning against his skin, struggling to rip itself out of him in a howl - Until he turns a corner, and knows that house, those trees, the stretch of sky above that rooftop, grounding him, settling and centering him. It's to capture those moments, that familiarity, that he asks Tony about cameras, and begins a project of chronicling the city he loves. Occasionally one of the others will catch sight of a photograph or a drawing he's done and ask for a print. By the time they've lived in the Tower a year, one of Steve's pictures hangs framed in just about every room in the place. Steve, settling into the future. The bit with Maria Hill comes out of nowhere, but otherwise this is really lovely.
I remember everything, he tells them, English clear and precise and carrying Brooklyn in his tamped down defiance. If Steve knows it’s a lie, well. He’s not going to contradict him. Sharp, heartbreaking, yet hopeful (because STEVE) story about Bucky's slow integration back into Steve's life and his own head. With gorgeous artwork.
They started calling him the Huntsman after that, and he let them. It was as good a name as any, and in time, that was how he came to think of himself as the Huntsman. It even turned out to be profitable. If someone ran off with your horse and you didn’t feel like involving the law – since that might ultimately earn you the attention of the queen’s guard – you went to find the Huntsman. If your daughter ran off with the wrong boy, you went to find the Huntsman. He didn’t always take the job; when he had enough gold for his mead, he found it very easy to be lazy. But for some reason that only enhanced his reputation as an elite tracker and woodsman. Lovely look at the Huntsman through the years.
Bruce understands fear, and he understands hatred of losing control, so he also understands perfectly well why Natasha wants to have sex with him. He's her bogeyman, the monster under the bed, the strange noise in an empty house. The difference, though, is that he's real, and he does hurt people, so it's not a bad idea for most people to be afraid of him. Natasha, like everyone else on the team, isn't even close to being like most people. She ran from the Other Guy once, and she won't do it again, though it's unlikely she'll ever need to at this point. But not running isn't enough for someone like her—she won't be happy until she's pushed back at him, shown him she's not afraid, proven she can handle him. Bruce is okay with being handled. Smart, hot Bruce/Natasha, in which Natasha is very much the one in charge. Very much how I think it would go with them.
But people look at Steve now and see him, and that’s…Bucky knows it shouldn’t make him angry, knows that it’s not anybody’s fault. Howard Stark, with his clipped accent and his sharply rationed attention, isn’t to blame for all the people who passed Steve by before; Peggy Carter, with her kind eyes and killer right hook, isn’t every dame Bucky ever watched push Steve aside. It’s not their fault that Bucky looks at them and thinks Pal, you’ve got no idea; it’s not their fault that Bucky looks at them and thinks, Fuck you, I got here first. Sharp look at Bucky and at Steve from Bucky's POV. With pining and kissing. *happy sigh*