Anachronisticblues



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    Pro-Tip: don’t accidentally sext with your competitive dickface BFF

    Bucky: whoops wrong convo. Clearly.
    Steve: Clearly.
    Bucky could practically hear the dry tone of Steve’s voice.
    Steve: Go on.

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    27 Apr 2026

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    Bucky looks like he’s had a difficult month, what with the eviction notice and all, but that’s not the reason Steve gives for allowing him to stay on his couch.

     

    “You have somewhere to go?” Steve questioned, crossing his arms and attempting to look casual, not like he was worried for Bucky. He stepped into the apartment, ignoring how bare it was.

     

    Bucky paused and gave him an exasperated look. “I’m not completely hopeless.”

     

    A fic spanning from mid-November to early-February.

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    27 Apr 2026

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    It's 2011, men are allowed to marry, and Bucky is dead.

    The future isn't all that's strange. Together in peacetime for the first time since before Steve took the serum, Steve and Bucky struggle to find their place -- and each other -- in the middle of a new millennium, new bodies, and new dynamics.

    Or, just because you wake up in a century where everything you've repressed is magically okay, that doesn't make it easy.

    [COMPLETE]

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    25 Apr 2026

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    MARRIED?”

    “Basically married. Permanently engaged anyway. Weres have their own deal.” Natasha sounds much, much too gleeful about Steve’s rapidly expanding personal hell. “So you better wake your blushing bride and tell him the happy news: that it was an accident and you had no idea what you were doing.”

    “I,” Steve says, strangled. “I can’t do that!”

    “You can’t?”

    “He thought I was proposing! And he accepted!”

    “Wow, maybe he’s just as dumb as you are,” Natasha says thoughtfully.

    “I can’t just promise him a ring, take him home, drink from him three times in a row and then wake him up the next morning to say oops, just kidding!” Steve casts around, looking at his wreck of an apartment. “I don’t even have any good champagne!”

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    25 Apr 2026

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    “I need a toy.”

    “Uh.” Steve’s eyes flickered over to the ‘CLOSED’ sign he had hung up on the door and then back to the weapons that were attached to the man’s body. He decided it was better not to get murdered for not doing what this guy wanted. “What... kind?”

    “A train.”

    Steve blinked. “Sir, you’re bleeding all over the floor.”

    OR while Steve is working a late shift in the toy store, a bleeding man stumbles inside, looking for a gift.

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    20 Apr 2026