#All my shoes are so crunchy from snow salting.

[seaslimes]

Guy from the South who moved up North recently: Bro, they left free salt on the ground again.

[pbandjesse]

I got really disappointed by an email right at the end of my work day and I have been trying to feel better since then but Sweetp is all cuddled up to me on the couch and that's helping a lot.

Today was not a bad day. I am just tired. I slept okay but I keep getting startled awake. This time is was because James was stomping around because they forgot that today is our recycling day and they wanted to get all go out cardboard out because recycling is every other week and having all the cardboard in here for that long was not an option.

So I would give myself a few minutes and took my time but I actually felt really good today. The best I have felt for weeks. I liked my outfit a lot. The only thing I didn't like was my hair. It seemed really dry today. I had trimmed my bangs but it was more the ends. It was just a weird hair day.

When I came downstairs I helped James get the last couple stacks of cardboard outside even though they kept saying I didn't need to help. But it was okay. They had packed me a lunch and some of the new cough drops lolly pops. And that would help me out a lot today.

I had had kind of a long drive. I need to leave on time because even when I leave 15 minutes later it's adding so much time to my commute. It wasn't that it was the worst drive, but it was more traffic then I hoped.

When I got to camp I felt good. The air was cold and I was happy to be there. There was some snow on the ground still and it was really pretty.

I was surprised by how much ice was on the steps and was concerned for everyone else. So I tried scraping them and when I was not successful I would salt them and send a group text for everyone to be careful.

I had some small things to accomplish before everyone came in. And when that was done I decided to go for a walk.

I walked through the crunchy snow over to the woodlands village. And decided to think about ways my program could be improved. And from the walk and the thinking I decided we need a way to break up tools and dwellings and when I got back to the office and Heather was there I talked through that idea with her.

I also showed her the boots James got me. Which I love so much, though I am still embarrassed by my original reaction. I am trying to break them in but they are rubbing my toes a bit. Once they soften up it'll be fine but I insisted on wearing them with my sheep skin insoles to try to warm them up and stretch them. And I think it worked, despite the pain it would cause.

Later Lou would come in and I insisted on showed him my shoes and he said they were Frankenstein cowboy. And then said that it was very me and made perfect sense. I know he was slightly teasing me but he is also right. They are perfect.

I would worked on my program updates throughout the morning. I figured out a way to split the one program and I fleshed out them both so they can be stand alone. And I think this is going to make the whole thing a lot better in the long run. I still wish the programs could be longer but I am still really happy with the new plans.

Right around lunch Alexi said we would have a 1pm meeting to discuss what we would work with John the consultant on Thursday. She asked me to collect some stuff I had worked on and she asked me and Sarah to fill out a list of all the programs we do and then some breakdown on who does what and then rating them and working through the goals of each program.

I would eat my baked pasta for lunch while I worked on the list. And would spend the rest of my lunch break just scrolling on my phone. Looking at nonsense. I got really interested in where Hannibal Lector lives. James agrees Roland Park makes sense but I also discovered that they used the house at the Walters museum for the facade in the show and that in the book the address where he lives is the law office across from the street market I used to go to for groceries. Fascinating.

The meeting was good. I tried not to talk to much. But I was still actively participating. My throat was starting to bother me so I tried on of the lolly pops and it was great? Like flavor wise it was like a beautiful strawberry jam. I looked into it and it's pectin that is the thing for your throat and while I think it helped it wasn't super powerful. Would buy again though.

We wrapped up the meeting soon after Alexi had to go conduct an interview. We would continue to talk about ways we can improve and ways we can get the enthusiasm up because that is so much of the issue. I feel like some of it is a lack of support and training but a larger part is someone being a sourpuss and then sucking the enthusiasm out of the room. And I don't really know how to solve that!

But I would work on the documents for the meeting and when I wrapped that up I was getting ready to go when I got an email that upset me.

I had been asked to come back to teach the autism society class and had accepted but there were three days I wouldn't be available. And they said that was fine. But now they are emailing me it isn't fine and are giving the class to someone else??? No! Don't do that! I asked Elizabeth if I could not do the open houses and she said that was fine and I emailed back right away that I didn't need to miss two of the days anymore. Like I emailed back within two minutes. And then she didn't respond! It has caused me a lot of stress. I'm worried that she will have given it away already and there isn't a take back and I'm really sad about it. I am hoping she emails me back tomorrow so everything can be okay again.

I left camp and headed to the pet store to get a new vacuum. Which went well. I also got a plant for half price because it had two dead leaves but this specific type of plant does really well in my tank so I'm not concerned about it. The cashier complimented my boots.

On my drive back home there was a good amount of traffic and my phone took me a slightly backwards way to avoid it. But it was fine.

Right before my street I saw a free mirror on the side of the road. I pulled over and threw it in the back and while it did come detected from its frame it's a really nice mirror and the frame is nice so I can still use both separately. I'm very excited about it.

I struggled parking. I got a very tight parking space but while I was able to get in it I was rubbing my tires and was very worried so I asked James to come out and help and they did fix it. And they carried the mirror inside. Thank you my husband.

While I was sitting at the kitchen island (!!! So excited to have somewhere to sit!!) we got a knock on the door. It was our very first package delivered to the house! Amazing! It was my rubber blocks for printmaking. I am excited to do more of that and I have a workshop coming up soon so this was perfect.

James made me tacos for dinner and we talked about our day. And then they went to do their podcast and I went to do some organizing in the studio.

I started building the wardrobe. And I did that for an hour and a half before I got to a spot I couldn't do it anymore by myself. So I went and chilled on the couch with sweetp and wrote this. But now James is done their recording and has come joined me and we are almost done the wardrobe! The doors will go on in just a few minutes. I'm really excited to be finished. This last piece. Because then I can really put things together and finally decorate in here.

I'm really having a good time. Despite my upset about an email. Everything will work out.

I hope you all sleep well tonight. My cough hasn't come back as hard today so let's hope it stays like that. I love you all. Goodnight!

[pisscreant]

hi! i live in canada im VERY familiar w the cold so here's some things off the top of my head please lemme know if u want anything more specific ok here goes:

-i find the nose gets cold before anything else. sometimes the first thing i feel when i wake up is how much colder my nose is than any part of me in the blankets, if it's cold enough outside you can actually FEEL your snot freeze inside your nose (its really itchy), its a good sign that someone's been out in winter recently if their nose is a little red

-snow comes in a LOT of different textures, sometimes it's very powdery and blows around everywhere, sometimes it's DENSE (good for packing into snowballs), often there's a thin crunchy layer on top and then a lighter layer under, lots of room to play

-for people with glasses, coming in from the cold usually involves several seconds or maybe even a minute or so where the lenses fog up from the sudden temperature change, and it gets really hard to see

-anywhere snow gets inside, it melts! most people tend to stomp off their boots outside right before heading in to catch the worst of it, and a lot of shoe racks have thicker mats with tall ridged edges underneath to keep the water in, but stepping on a puddly of icy water in your socks is still a hazard of the season (we call that getting a soaker here, but i think that's just local)

-anywhere that gets a lot of foot traffic and snow will inevitably get a lot of ice, as the people walking slowly melt down the snow which then refreezes overnight. we tend to put down salt on the sidewalks/walkways to combat this (the salt helps the ice melt down faster + now theres a little more traction when you step), and it leaves white salt stains on your boots you have to wash off

-i haven't heard of snow falling off a roof and killing anyone personally (although i dont doubt it could if there was enough of it), but as a kid i was CONSTANTLY hearing adults tell me to step away from being under roof edges because of ICICLES. they can get REALLY big and heavy, especially if it's warm enough to melt the snow in the day but still cold enough to refreeze it at night, and ive seen them rip out eaves, wreck cars, and cause concussions if people aren't careful

-after being outside for long periods of time, your skin tends to get a little numb. after coming back inside, as the feeling returns, your arms and legs get REALLY really itchy and red for a few minutes. i find hot showers usually help, but that can be a little risky since it's hard to feel how hot the water really is, which makes burning yourself a risk. eventually the feeling comes back and the redness fades, though, and then it's back to normal

hope any of this helps a little!

holy SHIT than you so much. these are details I'd never know about otherwise. esp the stuff with texture and how it feels on skin (and the nose freezing shit is a very distressing thought. Idk how yous deal with it). skin feeling numb makes sense since it happens when I touch ice but the idea of it being all over the skin is Something.

very handy insight and really drives home how primal and all-encompassing Shivers must be both as a spirit and a sensation Harry experiences. Also I will never complain abt my town's climate ever again.

[beckzorz]

Snowed In (one-shot)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x f!Reader Words: 6279 Prompt: Snowed In Summary: You’re all set for a vacation in the woods. A cozy cabin, a fireplace, solitude… Then a tall stranger falls through you front door. What’s a girl to do? Rated: T for swearing A/N: Written for @interestedbystanderwrites holiday prompt challenge! Thanks for the fun :3 Hope you all enjoy! And Happy Hannukah 🕎

If you’d like some mood music, here’s a Spotify playlist I made for the story

If you like architectural layouts, here’s one for the cabin

>>> My Masterlist <<<

Bucky wiped his visor yet again and squinted into the blinding snow. The forecast had predicted a flurry, but the snow was falling in thick wet sheets. This was a straight-up blizzard. All he could hear was the struggling motor of his bike; apart from the biting cold, all he could feel was the thrum of the engine under his freezing hands. The narrow road was lined with thick trees, some of which were already bowed low under the weight of fallen snow. He could barely see ten feet in front of him. He could hear an approaching car, but there was no sight of it. Bucky hunched further over the handlebars.

A glow suddenly appeared in front of him.

“Shit!”

Bucky swerved his bike out of the way of the oncoming car, which was skidding straight at him. His front tire caught on a patch of ice and sent his bike into a careening lurch. The car’s horn blared endlessly.

“Shit shit shit!”

Bucky braced himself as his bike drove off the road into the woods, bouncing across the uneven ground. The back wheel snagged on a rock and hitched the bike up and back in an arc. Bucky pushed himself off with a grunt, heart racing and limbs flailing. He crashed right through a young tree, the splintering crack muffled by the snow, and landed heavily amid its spindly branches on the ground. His head ricocheted in his helmet; stars dotted his vision.

He groaned.

The heavy landing had shaken his whole body. The socket of his left arm, already sore from the extreme cold, throbbed with agony. The rest of him was sore, but after a moment lying still he determined nothing was broken. He pushed himself up to his knees with a fresh round of swears. Already snow had begun to seep in between his coat and the helmet. He reached up to brush it away, but his gloves were wet too. He drew his lips back in frustration and climbed slowly to his feet.

Well, he’d live.

His bike, on the other hand...

It was on its side, moving in a slow circle on the ground as the back wheel rotated against the ground. Black smoke was rising in a thin stream from the engine, the slick stench permeating his helmet. Bucky braced the frame with his boot and yanked out the key. The bike powered down with a sputter.

Great. Just great.

He was still three miles from the safe house, and the wind was picking up. He wiped the visor on his helmet for the hundredth time and nudged his bike with his boot. The road was barely visible from here. In another ten minutes the bike would be covered. No one would be able to see it, although it would take a crazy person to be out in this weather. Bucky scoffed. Well, crazy or desperate.

At any rate, he wasn’t driving a smoking bike anywhere. He was superpowered, not idiotic. Steve might have risked it, but Bucky knew he could get three miles on foot, blizzard or no.

Time to walk.

---

You wiped your face yet again and peeked under the splatter screen. The oil wasn’t quite hot enough, but another minute would do the trick. Perfect—just the right time to salt your first batch of latke batter. You sprinkled in a liberal amount of salt and mixed it through the gooey grated potatoes with a wooden spoon. By the time you were satisfied, the oil was spitting happily under the screen. You spooned a tiny test latke into the cast-iron pan and checked your watch. Thirty seconds was enough time to check out the front window to the road.

The tiny cabin in the woods was the perfect vacation spot. A loft for the bed, a roaring fireplace, a functional half-galley kitchen… Just what you needed to refresh after an aggressive autumn at work. You propped your arms on the chilly windowsill and peered out the window.

Oh, dear.

Road? What road? All you could see was an endless flurry of thick snowflakes beyond the window. Even your car in the driveway was barely visible. Well, at least the snow was pretty, especially with your menorah reflected in the glass. You snapped a photo on your phone and hurried back to the stove to flip the little latke.

The scent of frying was intoxicating, and you couldn’t help licking your lips in anticipation. As soon as the test latke was done, you fished it out of the oil and onto a paper towel. You patted it dry and popped it in your mouth.

“Oh my god,” you moaned. The mix of crunchy outside and perfectly cooked inside was perfect. The chopped onion added just the right level of sweetness. How had it taken this long for you to make homemade latkes?

Well, it wasn’t exactly a mystery. You worked, before that you were busy with school, and before that you were busy being a kid. Still, what a step up from pre-prepared.

You spooned six big dollops of latke batter around the edge of the pan. As you were dropping a final blob in the center, a loud bang echoed through the tiny cabin.

Someone was at the door.

---

Bucky felt like he had been walking for days. The endless snow erased time. His hands were stuffed in his armpits as he march onwards. Ice was building on his visor, but he was afraid to take the helmet off. It was already so cold that he wondered if his ears were blue. His fingers had to be. At least his breath was warm, though it was clinging to his cheeks and chin and freezing almost instantly. Why hadn’t he brought a scarf?

Truth was, he hadn’t prepared for this. He could’ve handled the predicted flurry—hell, even a regular snowfall. His bike would have been fine, and he would have been at the safe house ages ago. But this? This was unbearable.

He could barely feel his feet. His combat boots weren’t waterproof, and the snow had been building over the last two storms enough so that he was walking through close to a half-foot with every step. His socks were wet, and soon they’d be stuck to his feet. The snow might have been less deep on the road, but he’d almost been run over once tonight. He wasn’t taking any chances.

Bucky could survive freezing. It had kept him alive this long. Still, he’d rather not have to deal with it yet again. He bared his teeth and forced himself on.

Eventually, the caking ice completely covered the visor. He yanked the helmet off and tossed it aside with a growl. Even without the icy visor, he could barely see. The snow was falling thicker than ever, and the wind drove the icy flakes into his face, plastering them to his skin. Snow clung to his eyelashes and hair. Every blink was an effort, but the wind was too cold to keep his eyes open all the way.

The comm panel on his arm buzzed—he was in range of the safe house. Finally. He wiped his face with his sleeve, his shoulder whirring with disapproval. He could only see white. White blankness was everywhere—no trees, no safe house, no nothing. If he couldn’t feel the unevenness of the ground beneath his feet, he might not have known if he was even on dirt or concrete.

Bucky spun in a slow circle, inching forward as he tried to make out something, anything, in the blizzard.

At last, the glow of a light in a window caught his eye. Bucky shuffled along, his feet dragging on the ground. He grit his teeth and caught himself against the wall of a small cabin. Thin colored candles flickered cheerfully in the window. To his left was a lean-to entryway. Bucky braced himself against the door and banged hard with his left hand.

Then his head drooped, his chin hit his chest, and his eyes slid shut.

---

You glanced at the door, then back at your frying latkes. One minute before they needed to flip? You could make it, easy.

Who the heck was out in this weather? The blizzard was unexpected, but this cabin was in a remote part of the woods. And the closest house was much bigger—far easier to see. Closer to the main road, too.

You slipped into the entryway. Shivers immediately racked you; the warmth of the fire didn’t reach out here. The half-circle window at the top of the outer front door was half-blocked by a bent head.

Oh my gosh! They didn’t even have a hat? Were they crazy?

You unlocked the deadbolt with chilled hands. The moment you turned the doorknob, though, the door burst open, slamming you back into the side wall with a shriek as a giant man fell face-first against the inner door, which swung open under his weight. Snow swirled in from outside as you pressed a hand to the back of your head with a wince.

“Uuuugh,” the man groaned. He propped himself up on his elbows and knees, clearing the doorway. You quickly slammed the door shut and locked it automatically. Then you turned to your unexpected guest.

He was still on the floor, his clothes coated in peeling sheets of snow. You winced. How long had he been outside? You stood on tiptoes to squint out the window, but you couldn’t see another car in the driveway. Not that you could see far enough to see your own car, to be fair.

“Uh, are you okay?” you asked.

“Guh, yeah,” he grunted. He twisted up to sit and lean against the door jamb into the cabin, turning his icy face in towards the warmth. His shoulder-length dark hair was frozen in icy clumps, but they were starting to drip against his shoulders. After a moment, he turned to look up at you. “Sorry.”

You blinked. Oh. Oh my. You knew that face.

“It’s nothing,” you said quickly. “Only—can you take off your shoes? I don’t want to leave this door open for too long.”

“Oh, right.” He reached down and tried to pull at the laces to his boots, but his fingers were stiff. His brow drew low as he wiped his cheek against his shoulder, but he only succeeded in spreading the snow further.

You winced. “Let me.” You edged away from the door, watching for dry spots on the wooden floor, and knelt to pull at the frozen knot. “Yikes, you take your shoe-tying seriously, don’t you?”

He grunted. You glanced up at him as you worked. His face was starkly pale under the snow, save for the bright spots on his cheeks and nose. He hung his head and let out a slow breath when your nails finally did the trick. He pulled that foot closer and shucked off the boot, tossing it at the outer door as you made quick work of the other.

“Thank you so much,” he said as he lurched to his feet. He gestured for you to go in first, and you glanced instinctively back towards the outside before wincing—you’d stepping in a puddle. Great. Time to change your socks.

The second you stepped inside, you remembered. “Shit!” you gasped. You ran to the stove and quickly flipped the seven latkes in the pan. Somehow, they hadn’t burnt. Thank god.

“Smells good.”

You spun around, surprised. “Thanks.”

“I’m Jimmy,” the man said. He’d shut the door into the lean-to, and somewhere along the way he’d brushed most of the snow off his clothes. Still, what was left was forming a puddle on the floor. His nose was still bright red. His eyes were darting around the cabin, taking it all in.

You raised an eyebrow. Jimmy? Well, if that was what he wanted, Jimmy it was.

“Hi Jimmy,” you said. “You’re making a puddle.”

Jimmy glanced at his feet and winced. “Mind if I use the dryer?” he asked.

You shook your head and turned back to the stove where you could digest the last few minutes in relative privacy.

This was supposed to be a quiet solo vacation for cooking, reading, and introverting so hard you repelled everyone in a three-mile radius. Instead, you were suddenly trapped in a tiny cabin with a strange large man. A strange man, and a stranger.

Did you even have enough food for both of you? A guy that size was bound to have a voracious appetite. And it’s not like you could go shopping. The internet hadn’t lasted long once the storm started in earnest, but an updated forecast had predicted snows through tomorrow at least.

Well, you’d come here with plans to cook latkes for some colleagues, but they might have to wait. You weren’t about to let ‘Jimmy’ starve on your watch. That would just be unkind.

You fished the latkes out of the pan and let them drip on prepared paper towels. You wiped your face; between the fire, the stove, and the oven, the cabin was toasty. And now you had extra body heat.

The dryer turned on with a rumble, and you glanced behind you. And froze.

Jimmy had taken off more than his jacket. All he had on was long underwear and a thermal long-sleeved top, both black. They clung like a second skin. You swallowed. Jimmy looked at you with a sudden twinkle in his eye as he squeezed his hair out over one shoulder with his right hand. His left hand was behind his back.

“Want some latkes?” you asked quickly. You took out a plate from the cabinet and pulled the sour cream from the fridge.

“Uh, sure.”

Jimmy took a seat at the table. You tried not to tense under his scrutiny, but you were suddenly very aware of his eyes on you as you prepared his plate. Plus, you’d forgotten to change your socks. Oops.

“Order up,” you chirped, sliding the plate across the table to him. You turned the oven off and covered the oil with the splatter shield. Latkes were quick to make, and you needed to figure out what the hell was going on. But first, you wanted to see how the full-sized latkes turned out.

By the time you turned back to Jimmy, he was chomping on half a latke. The sour cream was untouched, making the bliss on his face even more satisfying. He swallowed thickly, and you bit your tongue as you studied his pale face.

“Oh my god,” Jimmy moaned. He swallowed and looked up at you, blue eyes wide. “This is amazing.”

“Thanks!” You leaned against the counter and grinned as you tugged off your damp socks. You had only eaten the test so far, but yeah. The moan was right on point.

Jimmy shoveled the rest of the latke into his mouth. Despite his bulky size, all you could think of as you watched him was of yourself as a kid, doing the exact same thing. Of course, you never had to hide your left hand as studiously as he did. You felt bad, but you didn’t want to spoil his pretense.

“Try it with sour cream,” you suggested. You fixed yourself a plate with the two remaining latkes and brought two glasses of water. You sat across from him, your bare feet tucked up under you. He nodded and dropped a lump of sour cream on his plate, then passed it to you. You took it with a grateful smile.

“What happened to your hands?”

You looked down at your hands in surprise. Oh, of course. The tips of your fingers were covered with red scrapes, but not for no reason. “Well, when you grate twelve pounds of potatoes, you’re liable to grate a bit of yourself, too.” A dramatic wiggle of your fingers made him cringe and push his plate back.

“Are there finger bits in here?” he asked, brow pinched. You couldn’t help blinking innocently.

“Why would you think that? Are they finger-lickin’ good?”

Jimmy squinted at you, suspicious. You bit the inside of your lip and tried not to laugh. Finally, you gave in and giggled. His lips curved into a tiny smile and his eyes crinkled.

Gosh, what blue eyes.

“No, there are no finger bits,” you told him. “That would be very unkosher.”

“Right…”

Jimmy pulled his plate back and inhaled the rest of his latkes with dogged efficiency and a frankly unhealthy amount of sour cream. You took your time. His plate was clear before you’d even finished your first.

“How are you eating so slow?” he asked.

“For starters, I wasn’t caught in a blizzard,” you said. “What happened to you?”

“I hit a patch of ice at the same time as a car coming the other direction,” he said. You clapped a hand to your mouth in horror. “Had to swerve off the road. My bike’s lying somewhere in the woods a few miles from here.”

“Oh my god, that’s horrible! You walked all that way?”

Jimmy shrugged and scratched his chest. “Made it, didn’t I?”

“Well, thank god,” you said fervently.

He smiled slowly. “Glad you’re relieved.”

“Well, of course,” you said, suddenly shy. You cut into your second latke and shrugged. “The alternative is pretty ugly.”

His bark of laughter was unexpected. “I guess so!”

“So where were you headed?” That was a reasonable question to ask, right?

“My, uh, friends have a place near here,” he said slowly. He glanced towards the window. “Man, it’s seriously snowing out there.”

“Yeah, it’s supposed to keep going until tomorrow.” Your second latke finished, you head back to the stove for another batch, abandoning Jimmy to his clogged arteries. Once the oil started to spit, you dropped the next bunch in and went back to the table.

Jimmy was quiet as he stared past the menorah at the blizzard, his profile standing out against the distant snow. You studied the lines of his face. He was frowning, you realized.

“I—”

“You can stay here,” you blurted, interrupting him.

“Oh,” he said, blinking. Then he smiled, the tension in his face fading. “Thank you so much.”

“Well, it’d take a seriously crazy person to shove you back outside in this weather,” you said. “Especially with all your stuff in the dryer!”

He grinned. “A good point,” he murmured. His bright blue eyes fixed on yours. “Still, thank you.”

“Of course,” you answer, face warmer than ever.

By the time the second batch of latkes was ready, Jimmy was studying the rest of the toppings you’d lined up on the table.

“Smoked salmon? Really?” he asked.

You laughed. “Yes! It’s great with the sour cream. If you don’t want any, that’s fine by me. I love that stuff.”

He wrinkled his nose. “I’ll try it,” he said.

“Suit yourself.”

Jimmy eventually agreed that lox was reasonable, but he left most of it for you. He seemed to favor sour cream and applesauce. Then again, those were the classics. You couldn’t blame him.

“Are you making more?” he asked.

“Not until tomorrow. They’re better fresh.” You stood up to cover the batter, reaching across the table for Jimmy’s plate as you did.

“No way,” he said. “I got the plates. It’s the least I can do.”

Jimmy washed while you cleared the food away. You cast furtive glances at him as you covered the various toppings. He didn’t seem to notice.

“So do you live here?” he asked.

“That would be ideal, but no, I’m just on vacation.”

“What do you do?”

You bit the inside of your cheek. “Property management,” you said. “You?”

“Security,” he said without hesitation. He finished scrubbing the silverware. “So you like the snow?”

“It’s pretty,” you told him. “I’m not particularly keen on shoveling, but it’s nice. I’m really here for the quiet.”

“Ah.” He turned to lean against the counter and crossed his thick arms over his chest. “In that case, I’m sorry to impose.”

“Oh—it’s alright. Not your fault,” you assured him. Your toes were starting to get cold. “I’m just going to get new socks.” You picked up the wet ones from the floor and tossed them in the dryer with his clothes, then climbed up into the loft to rummage through your small suitcase. “Oh hey,” you called, “I have some pajama pants that might fit you. My brother didn’t want them.”

“Uh, sure…”

You tossed down the pajama pants monogrammed with your hometown’s most famous sports team. “He doesn’t like sports,” you explained.

“You do?” Jimmy’s voice was muffled—he must have gone to change in the bathroom.

“Well, they have their place.” You pulled on a new pair of socks and climbed back down, dropping past the last few rungs with a smile. Jimmy came out of the bathroom, his left hand in his pocket. Your smile died and you swallowed thickly. Somehow, the plaid pajama pants riding low on his hips was an even sexier look than the skin-tight thermals he’d been sporting before. How was that even possible?

He popped his thermal pants in the dryer with the rest of his clothes. His shirt rode up slightly as he crouched in front of the low door, exposing a sliver of pale skin. “Thanks. Flannel is good stuff.”

“Oh, uh, you’re welcome.”

You hurried over to the fireplace, desperate for a distraction. Letting him stay was the only moral option, but my god, you were suffering. You settled for curling up on the couch, thinking hard.

Jimmy was tall enough that there was no way he’d fit comfortably on the couch, and you weren’t sure you had enough blankets to set up something makeshift on the floor. It was warm now, but as the night wore on, you knew it would get chillier.

Well, you’d cross that bridge when you got to it. In the meantime, Jimmy settled next to you, an ankle on his opposite knee. His fingers traced the plaid pattern of the pajama pants. You pulled your sweater over your knees and stared hard into the fire. You did not stare at his thighs.

“So what were you planning on doing?” Jimmy asked. “Before I showed up.”

“Nothing, really.” You tucked your hands under your feet. “Read some books, cook a billion latkes, light some candles.”

Jimmy glanced over at your menorah. Most of the candles had burnt out, but two still flickered low.

“My ma had one kinda like that,” he mused.

Your eyebrows flew up. “Really?” you asked, delighted.

“Mm.” He hummed noncommittally and fiddled with the patch logo on his pants.

You tried not to quiver with excitement. He was Jewish? You never would have guessed! You were dying to know more—but asking about his family was not the right move.

Bummer.

“One of my, uh, neighbors has one too,” he added after another minute. “It’s a different shape. Looks like a city.”

“Like Jerusalem,” you murmured.

“How do you know that?” he said sharply. His eyes narrowed.

Your pulse pounded. Uh oh. “Something Jewish with a city on it? That city is usually Jerusalem,” you said evenly.

“Oh.” He slumped back against the couch. “Right.”

“Yeah, Judaica can get a little repetitive. Stars, Jerusalem, pomegranates, tree of life… My menorah’s pretty old-fashioned. I’ll get a fancy one someday.”

“What are you waiting for?”

You shrugged. “A time when I don’t feel the need to be stingy with my disposable income? A second opinion to help me decide which style I want? Every year I see a new one I like. I don’t want to end up with something I’ll be unhappy with down the road.”

“Huh.” Jimmy shifted in his seat and propped his right arm up on the back of the couch. He wasn’t putting his arm around your shoulders or anything, but his dangling hand was only inches from your shoulder. Your eyes lingered on his blunt fingernails, the veins etched into his skin. “What’s your latest favorite?”

“It’s a tree of life,” you said. “It’s delicate, but really beautiful. It’s not just a plain straight thing, you know? It’s… I don’t know how to put it. It’s a quiet design. It reminds me of being alone up here among the trees.” You smile wistfully. “It’s also like, two hundred bucks. So that’s kind of a damper.”

“For an art piece? That’s not too bad.” Jimmy licked his lips as he looked into the fire. “Especially if it reminds you of something you like.”

“I do love it up here,” you confessed. “It’s so nice to finally get away from everything.”

“Yeah… Listen, I’m sorry to ruin your vacation.”

“Don’t be! I’m glad I could help.” You stood up and stretched. The digital clock on the stove shone bright red. That late? You winced. With a glance back at Jimmy, whose eyes are fixed on you, you make up your mind. “Listen, it’s getting late. The bed in the loft is big enough for three people, so you should fit fine. If you don’t mind sharing.”

Jimmy’s eyebrows flew up. “If I mind? Are you sure you don’t?”

“Well, I don’t really have enough blankets to spare to make up something else. Are you planning on behaving badly?”

He swallowed, his eyes darkening as he looked you over. “I wouldn’t say that…”

You laughed nervously. Much though he was the sexiest man you’d ever been this close to, you knew you couldn’t give in to that sort of talk. “Well, if you don’t think you can behave, you can use the couch. Or the floor.”

“Alright, alright.” Jimmy jumped to his feet and made for the bathroom, scratching the back of his head. His left hand was still in his pocket “Heard loud and clear.”

“Thanks, Jimmy.” As soon as the bathroom door shut behind him, you heaved a miserable sigh and stoked the fire for the night. You climbed up to the loft to prepare for bed.

If only!

---

Bucky locked the bathroom door and sat with his back to it, his ear cocked for any sudden noises. He finally pulled his hand out of his pocket. Thank god for the pajama pants, and thank god the collar on his thermal top was snug around his neck. His hostess hadn’t noticed his metal arm. Or at least, she hadn’t said anything. She’d given no indication that she recognized him at all, which was a relief. As much as this was an unplanned detour, he couldn’t say he minded it so far. A cute hostess, a cozy cabin, damn good food… Yeah, he could manage.

He tugged the thermal shirt over his head and tossed it aside. With some dedicated tugging with his fingernail, a panel on his metal wrist popped open to reveal a button and speaker. He pushed the button three times in quick succession.

“Barnes reporting,” he murmured.

Low static hissed; he pressed his ear against the door, but his hostess was out of earshot.

“Tinman, what the hell happened to you?”

“Keep it down, Wilson, I got stranded in this damn blizzard. Lost my bike. I’m stuck at a civilian’s house in the mountains not far from the pick-up point. I’ll get there as soon as I can, but it’s still snowing.”

“Yeah, I saw the forecast.” Sam spoke quieter now, thank god. “Glad you’re okay.”

“I’ll keep you posted,” Bucky promised. “Right now I think it’s bedtime.”

“Hope your civvie is cute,” Sam joked.

Bucky ended the call, cheeks warm. Yeah, she was cute. Too bad he couldn’t do anything about it. Still, he knew how to behave. And as much as he still had trouble sleeping in soft beds, he knew better than to pass up blankets on a night like tonight. He shut the panel in his wrist, pulled his shirt back on, and rinsed his mouth.

Now to make sure he got the left side of the bed.

---

“I prefer the right side, I hope you don’t mind,” you told Jimmy. You’d pulled off your sweater and were already curled up on the far side of the bed, eyes barely open.

“Whichever,” he said. He slid quietly in beside you, a healthy distance between you. “Thanks again, sweetheart.”

You froze, and then a warmth blossomed in your chest. You snuggled further down, a goofy smile on your face. “You’re welcome, Jimmy.”

---

Was the pillow always this hard? You reached up to fluff it, but your fingers ended up jabbing into someone’s underarm.

Jimmy flipped over with alarming speed, pulling his right arm from under your head so fast your head snapped the other way. Red-hot pain lanced through your neck. You cried out, eyes squeezed shut as you clutched at your throat.

“Shit shit shit, are you okay?” Jimmy demanded. He brushed his fingers against your neck, sending shivers down your spine and a sudden burst of awareness to your brain—you were in bed! With a man! And he was hot! You whimpered, but managed a nod. You didn’t dare open your eyes. The pain was agonizing, but even worse was knowing how close he was and that there was nothing you could do about it.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean—”

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” you croaked. You massaged your neck and waited for the pain to fade. “My fault. I forgot you were here.” You finally cracked your eyes open. Jimmy quickly buried his left hand in the blankets between you. He was crouched on his knees, hunched over to avoid the loft’s low ceiling.

“It’s seven,” he said abruptly. “Do you mind if I go through what you have in the kitchen? I can make breakfast.”

“I was planning on eggs and pancakes…” You cracked a smile. What a gem.

“You got it,” he murmured.

You closed your eyes and turned your head away to give him plausible deniability with his arm. His weight moved off the bed, and his jump down shook the whole cabin. You threw an arm over your eyes and screwed up your mouth.

Sure, jump eight feet. Very subtle, Jimmy.

By the time you made it downstairs, your neck was mostly better and Jimmy was working on the pancakes. He’d stoked the fire; it crackled cheerfully, warm and cozy.

“Wasn’t sure how you liked your eggs,” he said. “Pancakes, on the other hand, just have one setting.” You started to walk over to help, but Jimmy waved you off. “Sit down, miss. I got this.”

Plausible deniability aside, being waited on by a sexy hunk in your own pajama pants was a dream come true.

“Thank you so much,” you told him. “I really appreciate it.”

“It’s the least I can do.”

You stretched out on the couch, grabbing a book from the table and picking up where you’d left off. You got through another chapter before Jimmy came over with two plates stacked high with pancakes.

“Here,” he said, pushing one at you. He lifted your legs and sat down, dropping your legs back on his lap.

You laughed, surprised. “Thanks.”

Jimmy shot you a cheeky grin and stuffed a whole pancake in his mouth. There was a hint of stubble across his cheeks. If anything, it made him look better, even with cheeks bulging with breakfast. Why couldn’t he do something that made him less irresistible?

You ignored him as best you could as you ate. When you’d both finished, Jimmy took the dishes and washed them again. He even washed the griddle. Meanwhile, you picked dried wax off the menorah so the next set of candles would fit. The view outside was beautiful. The trees were covered in snow, your car was mostly buried, and the sky was bright.

You blinked.

“It stopped snowing!” you blurted. You spun back to Jimmy.

He turned his head just enough for you to see the curve of his jaw over his shoulder. “Yep. Guess the new forecast was reactionary.”

Jimmy’s voice wasn’t as chipper as it had been. You bit your lip, twining your fingers together as you stared at the scenery. As unexpected as his arrival had been, his company had been, surprisingly, just what you’d needed. Was he as sorry as you were that the blizzard was over?

“What’s your plan?” you asked reluctantly. Jimmy chewed his lip, thinking.

“If you’ve got a phone, I can call my buddy. He can pick me up once the road’s cleared.”

“Oh, sure…”

You knew perfectly well that this road would be cleared soon. Jimmy would call his friend, the road would get cleared, and you would be alone. Again.

Somehow, that prospect didn’t fill you with quite as much joy as it usually did.

---

“Thanks so much, man. I owe you.”

Bucky climbed into the passenger side of Sam’s SUV.

“Damn,” Sam said. He pushed his sunglasses down his nose and nodded at the cabin. “Did she kick you out or something?”

“Huh?” Bucky glanced over as he buckled in. His hostess was hovering in the window, but when he waved, she gave a tight smile and stepped back out of sight. “No, no. Just didn’t want to impose.”

Sam whistled low. “Yeah… I feel that.” He changed gears, did a tight three-point turn in the middle of the road, and drove off.

---

“Buck!”

Bucky grinned and slapped Steve on the back as they hugged. As grating as the group living at the compound could be, it was good to be home. It had taken a few days, too. “Hey man. Sorry I missed movie night. Got held up—had to fish my bike out of a snowbank, and then Sam made me do all his work.”

“Eh, don’t worry about it,” Steve said warmly. “You look good, all things considering. How were the latkes?”

“Amazing,” Bucky gushed. Then his eyes narrowed. “Latkes? How do you know about the latkes?”

“Oh, she told me,” Steve said, eyebrows raised and lips curled up in a smile.

Bucky’s eyebrows shot up. “Is she okay?”

“Course she is. You didn’t scar her for life or anything,” Steve assured him, but Bucky was looking around frantically.

“But why were you talking to her? Why was she talking to you? She’s just—”

“Right there,” Steve said helpfully, turning Bucky by the shoulders. Bucky gaped. Steve grinned unrepentantly. “Funny story, that… You know she was supposed to bring me some. Instead, my portion all went to waste on you.”

“Wha…”

Right there, talking to Wanda and holding a stack of tupperware containers filled with latkes, was his hostess. Unlike last time he’d seen her, she was dressed professionally, with nice shoes instead of fuzzy socks and a fitted blazer instead of an oversized sweater.

How could he have missed her before? She was glowing, the color of her blazer just right and her smile brilliant. Did he really spend so much time to himself that he’d missed a treasure right under his nose?

She glanced aside, caught his eye, and froze. Bucky shrugged out of Steve’s grip and jogged over, eyes wide. Her lips twitched as he approached, and a sudden rush of warmth surged through him as he stopped in front of her. He nodded to her stack of tupperware.

“So… is one of those for me?”

---

You couldn’t help but laugh at Bucky’s question. “No, I’m sorry!”

“Who, then?” he pressed.

“Um, let’s see… Wanda, here, take yours.” You were left with three. Wanda gave a little wave and wandered over to Steve, glancing back at you and Bucky with a sly grin. You ignored her and touched each tupperware in turn. “One’s for Sam, one’s for Peter in Queens, and the last one is for my lunch.”

“You knew who I was the whole time,” Bucky said. “And I didn’t realize. No wonder you knew about Wanda’s menorah.”

“I mean, you are kind of famous.” You shifted your weight, suddenly a little guilty. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to mislead you. I just figured… I don’t know what you were doing, but in case you were being tailed, I figured being vague was safer for everyone.”

Bucky shook his head. “No, no way, do not apologize. It was the right thing to do. And, uh, I liked being normal for a day.”

You frowned at him, heart twisting. That was one thing you pitied the Avengers for. All you did was keep the properties up and running. You could go home, go shopping, go for the occasional night out, and no one bothered you. But if Bucky Barnes wanted a night out… Well, he didn’t get one.

“Well,” you said, “I’d be glad to be normal with you again anytime.”

“Really?” he said, inching closer. He snatched one of your containers away and hid it behind his back with a hopeful grin. “Now that everything’s cleared up, how about we give Steve his latkes, and we go be normal over lunch?”

Your breath caught in your throat. “I’d like that,” you murmured, cheeks warm.

Bucky’s grin broadened. His eyes sparkled. “It’s a date,” he said.

“Alright.” You bit your lip to contain your grin, but you knew happiness shone on your face as brightly as it did on Bucky’s. “It’s a date.”

---

“You know,” you told him over lunch, “the cabin I was staying in is right next to the safehouse. They’re only, like, a hundred feet apart.”

Bucky blinked. He put down his fork and banged his head lightly against your shoulder.

“It’s okay,” you assured him, patting his head. “You probably would have frozen solid before you made it there.”

He sat up, shaking his head. “I’ll never live this down,” he groaned.

You tried not to laugh at his pathetic expression. “Well, I think it all turned out for the best.”

“Yeah,” he said, smiling at last. He brushed his thumb across your cheek. You leaned into his hand, unable to tear your gaze from his blue eyes. “Yeah, it sure as hell did.”

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Day 4: Welcome to the Rock! – Pebble Creek Ski Resort That Is

For me, hearing about a place prior of visiting makes my personal experience that much sweeter. It creates a certain mystique or legend inside my head, encouraging me to look for things that others may miss. This was certainly the case for Pebble Creek Ski Resort and the city of Pocatello. Reading about it in a few blogs and ski magazines, this place seemed like a unicorn. Low-cost lift tickets, two-dollar beers at the resort, great access to backcountry and terrain that was challenging? How could this still exist in North America? I couldn’t wait to see it in person.

Pocatello – Boulder of Idaho

A Ski Town with a college problem or the other way around? Image by: Local Freshies

As we drove out of Twin Falls, the wide-open plains quickly were replaced with massive snow-covered peaks. Arriving to Pocatello a bit earlier than planned, we had some time to explore before dinner. As we drove through the center of town, we were greeted to well-kept historic neighborhoods filled with tree-lined streets, a quaint downtown, easy access to outdoor activities and a university. It reminded us of an affordable Boulder. How many ski-towns exist that are college towns? Not many.

Mocha Madness

Image by: Local Freshies

Venturing through the historic district, an adorable café appears called Mocha Madness. Festooned with neon lights, it reminds us of a 50’s diner. Why not grab a coffee? As we stepped into the cafe, hip hop bumped quietly in the background as we looked over the menu. The barista could tell we weren’t from around here. “You want to try a Mocha Madness Original?” Always taking the local recommendations, we ordered two of them. Taking a sip, it’s thick and creamy almost like a hot cocoa but with a slight tinge of coffee flavor. We come to find out that it’s made with the local dairy’s chocolate milk. This was not an ordinary coffee, mind you. It also contains potato flakes making it naturally creamier and richer than you’d find anywhere else. While sipping our coffees, darkness descends and our grumbling stomachs remind us it’s time to head to dinner.

Best Sushi Ever In The Rockies? Shockingly Yes!

Image by: Local Freshies

We know what you’re thinking. “Sushi, in the Rockies?” You bet ‘cha! We’d read this was considered one of the best restaurants in all of Idaho. So, it was on our must-do list while in the Gem State. Daniel Russo, owner and head chef, grew up near Grand Targhee but like all great artists in the food world, he became a road scholar and sushi was his passion. From stints in Washington DC, California and trips to Japan, his exposure to all things sushi was vast.

Togarashi or Japanese 7 Spice Starts The Meal

Escolar wrapped around cucumber Image by: Local Freshies

The meal started with two styles of edamame. One with garlic, salt, and butter while the other seasoned with Togarashi or Japanese 7 spice. The dressing of the soybeans added a whole different flavor that I’ve never had before. It’s a perfect way to start our culinary adventure. From there, we jumped into Escolar wrapped around cucumber. This dense fish has a buttery, flaky taste. Each course of sushi continued to blow our minds. The “Tiny Dancer” which is the most popular roll, lived up to its fame. Warm, crunchy & spicy from the fresh wasabi carefully placed on top of each piece.

Dozo-Domo?

Oshizushi the traditional way to make sushi – Image by: Local Freshies

The clear winner though was the “Dozo-Domo” which loosely translates to chef’s choice. A sushi roll tailored specifically to your liking. For us, Daniel chose an Oshizushi which is made by pressing blocks of rice and sushi toppings into a special mold (called an ‘oshibako’) that creates perfect rectangles, then sliced and served. Talk about a mind-blowing experience. If you’re anywhere near Pocatello, we suggest making a pit-stop here. You won’t be disappointed. With our stomachs full and souls re-energized, it was time to head to bed.

College Market – Quick Breakfast & Awesome Coffee

College Market – A great breakfast spot & off the hook coffee Image by: Local Freshies

After a restful night, we woke up early the next day ready to get first chair. But first things first… breakfast. Only a block down from where we were staying was the College Market. Another adorable café that would be somewhere I’d camp out and work from if I lived here. It has lots of room with a just enough lived in feel to make it relaxing. Today though, we just ordered some coffee and grab breakfast paninis to go. First off, the Southern Pecan Coffee from the local micro-roaster Bills Beans was off the charts. The flavored roast tasted like I was drinkin’ a pecan pie. Second, the breakfast paninis made from scratch with fresh herbs are scrumptious. Wow! What a great way to start the day.

Welcome to the Rock!

Welcome to the Rock! Image by: Local Freshies

After filling up the gas tank, we hopped on the expressway and headed to Pebble. With only a ten-minute drive, we exited the interstate and meandered our way towards the resort. Located in a massive valley, the resort’s face can be easily seen miles away. It isn’t until you make the final turn that you realize how serious the terrain really is. Big, rocky, and most of all steep. Cliff bands, chutes and sweeping trails drop down its front face inviting you to try and ski it if you can. A true playground for any serious skier or snowboarder. I now understand why the nickname for Pebble Creek is “The Rock”.

Kids, Kids everywhere!!!

It’s a Thursday and the parking lot is full… of kids. Hundreds of them. We meet with our hosts for our stay: Mary Reichman, Mike Dixon and Mike Rodriguez. The first question out of our mouths is what’s up with all the young’uns? Even though there’s a ton of steep terrain, the goal at Pebble Creek is to get every kid in the area on the slopes. So, each day of the week, hundreds of students from schools in the region come up and shred as part of their PE credits. In addition, they make sure its affordable too! For $12/day, these lucky kids can get out on the slopes. What a novel concept! Instead of giving the money to shareholders, Pebble’s trying to help the community by offering an outlet during the cold winter days.

These Kids RIP!

One half of the Edgie-Wedgie Combo Image by: Local Freshies

Mary no longer hits the slopes so Mike & Mike head out with us. Today’s goal is to give us a tour of the mountain. We hop onto the main lift and head up. Looking around, the opportunities are endless. Right underneath the lift are massive moguls surrounded by rocks, stumps and other natural debris. Not a run for the faint-hearted. And then… suddenly over the horizon, a school of children appear. Flying down the trail, they hop over the obstacles, make perfectly arced turns and disappear as quickly as they came. We ask Mike Dixon is this normal? He nods. There must be something in the terrain because these young kids rip!

Edgie-Wedgie

At the top, we head skiers left to the outskirts and hit Outback. While traversing over, we pass two trail signs that call out Edgie and Wedgie. Mary tells us later that day these two runs are named after the children’s ski tool called the “Edgie-Wedgie.” A short piece of rubber tubing that clamps to each ski tip, this little tool makes sure the kid’s skis are in a safe position. Getting a quick glimpse at both these runs, I’m guessing you’d need to graduate from them before you’d hit either slope.

Soft and Creamy

The snow is soft & creamy Image by: Local Freshies

Dropping down onto Outback, the snow is fantastic. Soft, creamy and effortlessly carveable. We take huge arcs through the snow enjoying each turn. As the trees part in front of us, we’re given the million-dollar view of the Portneuf Valley. The scenery is breathtaking. In the distance, Mike Dixon points out Scout Mountain, a popular zone known for mountain biking in the summer and backcountry skiing in the winter. He notes that the skiing might be great in the winter but the area really lends itself to mountain biking in the summer. From Pocatello alone, you can access 52 miles of single track that literally connects to everything around including that peak. Wow!

The Rock!

Image by: nluv Finish & Design Studio

After a few laps on the outer section of the mountain, we decide to check out some of the steeper stuff. We head riders right this time and drop into the Rock. Named after the resorts’ nickname, it’s steep yet soft but the slope is no joke. Filled with boulders and cliffs, you have to pick your line and choose each turn to make sure you don’t end up tumbling down one of them. What a rush! We continue to hit the trails until our legs call “Mercy!”

Rock Bottom Saloon – The Cheers of a Ski Town

It’s beer o’clock time. Even though the Saloon is closed during the week, they open it up for us. After a few minutes, some of the employees getting off of work join the crew over a cold one. The watering hole is the stuff of legends, like a pair of comfortable gym shoes that you never want to throw out. Worn in stools, TVs showing old ski flicks like “The Blizzard of Ahhs”, great conversation and of course, affordable beers like $2 Montuckys.

Pebble’s Employees Are Passionate About Their Resort

Mike Rodriguez deep in his element Image by: Local Freshies

We take a moment to learn a bit more about our awesome hosts. Even though this is Mary’s last year, you can tell this is less of a job and more a calling. Her passion for Pebble and the community can be seen in the beginner’s area she helped create called the Aspens. Looking forward to seeing more of her family, she’s handing the torch over to Mike Dixon. Mike grew up shredding the mountain and you can tell by the way he hits everything and anything that’s put in front of him just like the kids.

The California Connection

Mike Rodriguez on the other hand, grew up in Sacramento and learned to ride up in Lake Tahoe. It was on one of his many shred trips that he visited Pebble Creek and that’s all it took. It was love at first sight. Now the lift operations manager, he makes sure that everything keeps running. After a few brews, we decided to call it a day and head home.

Stay tuned as we dive into the history of Pebble Creek with a little backcountry adventure and take a dip in Lava Hot Springs.