InsaneJournal

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[At some point during the last few months, Bucky has come to several conclusions. He’s realized that future seems to come with some important changes, such as everything costing a lot more now (seriously, the price of one meal could’ve paid the rent in their Brooklyn apartment for several months), but apparently that means you also get more money, much more, really, than he ever could have thought to have in his possession. There’s new kind of food, weird fruit and dishes he can’t pronounce, and also something has happened to bananas to make them taste supremely strange.

When he thought to finally get some new clothes, something more casual than the army uniform he’s been wearing until now, well. He didn’t think he’d be facing yet another Future Thing (as he’s named them), but instead of clothes he’s used to, he’s staring at rows and rows of t-shirts with weird slogans on them, button-ups and hoodies and cardigans and skinny jeans and—are those jackets made of leather? Yeah, they sure seem to be.]

Huh. [For a moment, he just. stares. Until he draws in a deep breath, rolls his shoulders and assumes the air of a man going into battle.]

Right. Better get to it, then.

[Come help a fella out, why don’t you? Or, you know, just laugh at his plight as his journal deems it necessary to record this -- that works too.]