Archive of Our Own ^beta

This has probably already been done by someone, but whatever! 

Buckle in, buckaroos, we’re going on a wild fucking ride. ✌️ 

Kitchen Area

His sofa:

• It’s small. Just imagine Bucky trying to stretch his big body out on there. 
• Look at the little red throw pillow! Does he put it under his head? Hug it to his chest? Does he like the colour?
• And the mismatched sofa cushions. Bucky grew up during the Great Depression, so he would have learned to make do, reuse, and repurpose things. People weren’t so wasteful during the Depression. Repairing a sofa cushion costs next to nothing and it’s an otherwise functional loveseat. Judging by the state of his apartment, he clearly values function and (lack of) cost over aesthetic.
• Likely found it on the side of the road, or someone gave it to him. Maybe it was already there when he moved in, and he repaired it. A sofa isn’t something he really needs, he wouldn’t have put much thought or effort into having one.
• That said, it does provide some cover in case he has to duck behind the kitchen island. Most intruders would come from the front door, which is on the opposite side of the room.

On the front counter: 

• An electric stove, not a gas one. No chance of a gas leak or an explosion resulting from one.
• Orange tea towel on the stove. Bucky, please.
• Dirty dishes, a bowl and a glass. Cereal for breakfast? Orange juice or a glass of milk? Pierce did offer him a glass of milk in TWS.
• One of Bucky’s journals. This is the one that Steve found.

On the rear counter: 

• A bag of something (it’s pink -- cookies? bread?)
• Toaster, knife block, salt shaker.
• Some more dirty dishes that he hasn’t gotten around to washing yet, including a skillet and a couple of mugs.
• Pink/beige tea towel on the right.
• Floral tea towel hanging on the oven handle. Bucky has three tea towels in use, here -- two plain ones that he’s just kind of thrown around (probably uses ‘em whilst cooking), and a third more decorative one which has been draped perfectly straight. He probably uses this one to dry his dishes once he washes them. Back in the day, it was common to spruce up your kitchen with a decorative towel (and, I mean, we do that today even). His mom would have done that, and now he’s doing it, too. Maybe it reminds him of way back when.
• In the below photo you can also see a saute pan, a whisk, and two spice pots. Sugar would likely be in one of them, because that was how sugar was stored in the 1940s, but I’m not sure what would be in the other. Pepper? Rock salt?
• Oh, and that looks like a votive holder behind the yellow bowl. Does he light a scented candle every now and then?

And then we have... The Thing™️.

• I originally couldn’t figure out what that little black/white shelf unit thing was, but you can see that there’s something glass on the right side (thought it might be a coffee pot? it’s too small to be a microwave). On the bottom left of it, there’s a small analog clock, and the top left looks like a measuring cup of some sort. I couldn’t zoom in much more than this. 
• On top of the Thing™️, he’s got some soda/beer cans and more of those caramel snack bars that he’s got above the fridge (under the cut): small comforts. There might also be either a pack of matches or a pack of cigs -- probably matches, but I feel like he might indulge in a cigarette every now and then to calm down.

• BUT YES, THE THING™️ IS INDEED A COFFEE POT. @brooklyn-boy figured out that it’s a Black and Decker SpaceMaker Coffee Machine from the late 70s or early-to-mid 80′s. See photo.
• So, Bucky drinks coffee! That doesn’t really come as a surprise, but it’s nice to have some confirmation of it. I imagine he’d need a lot of it because he doesn’t sleep so well (more on this later). Coffee would be another small comfort, not only because it’s something he likes, but it’s something he can prepare easily.

(there’s a fuck ton more analysis under the cut)

[[MORE]]

On the wall shelves:

• Assorted mugs. Seriously, he has a ton of them, and it makes me wonder if this is because of his army days. He would have had one single metal mug as a soldier in WWII, which he would have had to constantly clean. Notice that none of his mugs are metal.
• Small metal mixing bowl, or is it a pot?
• Bag of flour (or sugar). This coupled with the whisk and the saute pan makes me wonder if he likes to make pancakes. They’re easy to make, for one, but it looks like he has a sweet tooth because he’s got cookies and caramel bars!
• Or he could just as easily make eggs, but why else would he have flour? Because he likes variety, and again, maybe he likes to cook.
• Stack of bowls, a glass, two cooking spoons and a ladle.

On top of the fridge, and on the bottom shelf/floor: 

• A bag of chips (German) and a bag of pretzels. Bucky likes salty snacks, too. The big bad Winter Soldier likes to snack, how terrifying.
• More caramel bars. Cutie pie.
• More cooking utensils, including a BRIGHT GREEN spatula, more spoons (so many spoons!), and another ladle.
• There’s the same journal that Steve found.
• A rug, which he strategically placed under the window.

And now... the thermos. 

On top of the fridge is a red thermos, which looks like it’s made of plastic, not metal (just like his mugs aren’t). 

• I’ll bet he uses this for soup, because he’s got a big ol’ stock pot in the below photo and two (2) ladles! Who needs that many ladles? But yes, soup, because soup is cheap and easy to make, and it’s an American comfort food. Important points, because...
• He’s got all sorts of stuff to cook with: two different types of frying pans, mixing bowls, utensils, spice pots. But he wouldn’t really know how to cook, or at least not well. In the 1940s, his mother and sisters would have done all the housework. Because Bucky wasn’t married, he might have still lived at home back then, so now he’s learning how to take care of himself by experimenting with different things. If he lived by himself before then he didn’t really have the chance to do it for long and in that time he might have a girlfriend to help him out, anyway. 
• Judging by the number of spoons, though, I think he might even like to cook. Maybe his snacks are a form of self-care.
• Now let’s bring back the tea towel on the stove. Most people know not to leave the towel on the stove, but because he never really knew how to cook before, but maybe he doesn’t. 
• Or, maybe he does -- I mean, you’d think he’d have some common sense, right? So that means he might be absentminded; forgetful, even, and possibly because Hydra’s brain-frying left some residual effects.

Dining Area

All of his windows are blocked out with newspaper. You know why.

On the wall shelf: 

• More of his journals.
• An old pink radio. You can see the speaker in the table flip photo below. He’d use this to listen to the news, probably, but I like to think he’d tune in to some music sometimes, too. 

On the table: 

• He started reading that newspaper at some point. He’s got a lot of those around; likes to keep up with current events, and keep an eye out for anything suspicious / any reason to jump ship. Maybe keeps an eye on potential work opportunities, too. 
• I’ll talk more about all this later on.
• Those red papers there might be some coupons to a store.

Below: 

• You can see the stock pot more clearly. 
• There’s another frying pan, and what looks like a couple of splatter guards. He doesn’t like getting splattered with hot oil whilst cooking, imagine that. 
• Bucky’s shelves are made of cinder blocks, which he can use as weapons if needs be. It’s also cheap and easy to make these shelves.
• Lots of newspapers and more of his journals scattered about.
• The black duffel bag is his. I wonder what he uses it for?

Ah, the notorious backpack. This is not the duffel bag.

• Notice where the floorboards end. They’re just in the entryway for that particular door. It leads to the balcony. The other doors have carpet, including the entryway which leads to the stairwell. He chose this location to hide his backpack because it’s a last-ditch escape route.
• In order to hide his backpack there, he either a) would have had to install the flooring himself and remove some of the carpeting to do so, or b) pry up multiple floorboards, but it’s pretty difficult to replace them properly if you don’t know what you’re doing. So either way Bucky knows how to lay floorboards. 
• How does he know? He likely would have learned before the War, I think. Can’t imagine him going up to some random tradesperson in Bucharest and ask for a lesson.
• Not to mention he’d have to remember exactly which ones he hid his backpack under, so that he could smash and grab in a hurry. He probably had a point of reference in mind.

On the palette by the door, he’s got his socks hanging out to dry.

• Trench foot was extremely common during WWII, which is caused by excess moisture -- essentially, your feet rot away in your shoes because they can’t dry out for days/weeks at a time. Soldiers would have to change their socks a couple of times a day to prevent this from happening. Likely another habit left over from the War, which indicates he might have PTSD. (And so do his journals.)
• Those socks might also be his reference point for where the bag is, in case he forgets how many floorboards away from the door it was (which would have been a number easy for him to remember.)

His table is the perfect size to block off one of the primary entry/exit point. Strategically placed, just like everything else. Note the black leather jacket hanging on the back of his chair. 

He also has two chairs. Why does he have two chairs? Does he sit in one and use the other as a footrest? More on this later.

Little shelving unit in the hallway:

• More mugs.
• Two large mixing bowls, one glass and one metal -- so he either a) scrounged these from somewhere and/or b) he knows that acidic ingredients can’t be put into a metal bowl, otherwise it will erode the metal and taint the food.
• A cooler. Bucky would want to keep off the grid as much as possible, so he’d only take cash-in-hand jobs like construction work. I’d like to think he takes his lunch to work in this. (Or maybe sometimes he takes the thermos! Or both, because he’s got a serum-enhanced metabolism.) 

Bathroom

Not much to say, other than: 

• God, that wallpaper is hideous.
• He has a BABY BLUE towel.

Living Area

• Sleeping bag and a pillow. The bare essentials. 
• Right next to the radiator, in case he gets cold. 
• The mattress isn’t for comfort so much as a potential shield to block the window (i.e. gunfire, which he winds up using it against.)
• It is a thin mattress, though, which would be a lot firmer to sleep on -- not quite as firm as the floor, but better than sleeping on a marshmallow like Sam talks about.

Notice he’s got a bunch of lights, here, but the wall lights on the right would be much brighter than the lamp beside his bed. I’ll bet he likes a warm yellow glow instead of such a jarring white before he goes to sleep.

Sorry for the quality, that’s the best screencap I could take. 

This makes THREE chairs, but this one is metal and the others are wood. He keeps his clean clothes on this one.

His lamp has a little side table attached to it. Maybe he reads before he goes to bed, and keeps the books he’s reading there. Or his journals, which he scribbles memories into in the middle of the night. (Seb has stated that Bucky does this, and that his backpack contains 10 of them.)

One of Bucky’s journals. You can see how much he’s written in it. The pen is almost bleeding through the page behind Steve’s photo.

He uses little post-it tabs to keep track of certain memories. They’re a few different colours, so he probably has a colour-coded system going. With 13+ journals floating around, he would need to organize his memories somehow.

Balcony / Outside

He’s purposely selected a top floor apartment. 

• It would be harder for people to sneak up on him that way, considering he’s on the 20th floor (screencap further down). 
• Unfortunately, that also makes it harder for him to get out, which is why he’s maximized his chances with three separate exit points: two balcony doors (with two different rooftops he can jump onto), and the usual entryway door (which leads to the stairwell). 
• He was also kept deep underground in Siberia, so being that high above ground might comfort him.

Sorry for this screencap, too. Poor Steve!

He’s got furniture out here he isn’t using: a plastic chair and a wooden shelf. Bucky would have seen these sitting on the sidewalk somewhere, abandoned, perfectly functional but thrown away, so he tried to find a use for them. Maybe he’s still deciding, or thought that the next tenants of his apartment could use them.

And look, we’ve found another dining chair! A wooden one, so that makes three of them. An imperfect set.

He’s also got a beige blanket and a sun lounger. I wonder if he likes to have his coffee out here in the morning, or maybe he just likes to watch the sun rise (or set, I don’t know what direction the building is facing).

Stairwell

Third apartment on the 20th floor. He’s also really close to the roof access point, which is yet another way to escape if he needs to.

There is a PLANT outside of his next-door neighbour’s door.

It’s not his; it’s situated a little too far back to be, but just imagine him seeing it every day when he gets home. Bucky might not trust himself to keep a plant alive, at least not yet, but he’d get to see that one grow. Noticing the changes day-to-day would make him smile, I think.

Oh, and the neighbour right below him has a wreath on their door. That’s something he’d see every day, too. 

Other observations:

• His apartment has TONS of lights. Like, way too many lights for such a small studio. At least he could pick and choose which one(s) to light for the desired effects outside, I guess? Lots of privacy, or he could cast shadows as a diversion, or something. This may or may not have been strategic like the rest.
• Most of his belongings appear to be secondhand. He would have scrounged for them somewhere, flea markets, etc. instead of paying full price. His kitchen utensils, mugs, dishes, pots and pans are mismatched, and so is all of his furniture. Everything is imperfect, just like him.
• Let’s briefly talk about the specific location he’s chosen to live. If you watch the chase scene closely (too many screenshots to attach unfortunately): one side of his apartment building is in the middle of the city with a 30 km/h speed limit (18-19 mph); the opposite side of the building is where he jumps on top of looks like a bus port; on the other side of that is a freeway with access to a train line. Tons of ways to disappear.

About Bucky’s clutter / messiness:

At first glance, you’d think he doesn't really seem to care about it. And hey, maybe he doesn’t and the rest of this is just psychobabble, but:

• There are at least 2-3 days' worth of dishes piling up (or just one if you go by another one of my headcanons, up to you), and a ton of newspapers scattered everywhere. 
• This could be him trying to adjust to a (kind of) normal life. He’s not used to it, sure, but he clearly doesn't tidy up. Why is that? Does he not feel the need to? We know he needs to be able to leave in a pinch, so I guess he doesn’t care about the state of things.
• Nope! He does, as indicated by that floral towel hanging so pristinely on the oven handle. He wouldn’t decorate if he didn’t care, which means he does care but he doesn’t have the desire to clean up.
• Which leads me to think that he has some form of depression. Of course he does. He’s been through so much. His 10-20 journals scattered about the place also reflect this.
• There are parallells betwen his apartment and the state of his mind. It’s messy; parts of it are broken. But, like the sofa cushion, it can be repaired. 
• So let’s talk about the sofa for a second. And the chairs. Chairs, plural. As in, more than one, for more than one person. He might have wanted some company -- might have been lonely -- and maybe he even had the opportunity to socialize, but I think he would have had to stop himself from getting too close. To me, the chairs signify a desire to bond with the world again, bond with people again, and with that he’d learn to trust again. He has a desire to reconnect, but he just can’t find it in himself to clean up his mind, clean up his guilt, clean up his apartment because he’d never want someone to see or have to experience that side of him. 
• Or maybe he’s too scared to even try -- and because he’s scared, he doesn’t try to clean up his apartment and the vicious cycle of depression continues.
• Or, is he reverting back to the days when someone took care of him? As I pointed out earlier, his mother and his sisters would have done the housework in the 40s. I think that would have made him feel safe and loved, uncorrupted, because it was an experience he had before the War, before Hydra.
• Another thought about the newspapers. I wonder if he purposely keeps them because he’s afraid that he’ll forget the things he read. It also serves as a way to ground him, seeing all of the papers -- all of the days -- he’s managed to stay himself. 
• He’d buy a newspaper every day to have a record of the date, too. He’d likely have routines as all people do, but he might try to shake them up every day -- not just so people can’t track him, but so he can remember for sure what he did yesterday. On Mondays, he might go to the park. On Tuesdays, he might go to a coffee shop (and mix it up with different ones). So if Wednesday comes around and he can’t remember going to the coffee shop yesterday after buying his paper -- and he would check the date on the paper as a safeguard -- then something is wrong. 

Or, you know, it’s just an apartment. 🤷 

Let me know if you spot something I missed!

P.S. Thanks to @crispychrissy for brightening up some of my screenshots, and to @brooklyn-boy for figuring out The Thing™️!