head sportswear


 Graphic color blocks as well as streamlined designs (and synthetic insulations) are the lift ticket this winter… . Zippered and snap-front nylon ski jacket with Thermore insulation, about $255 ; nylon-wool-and-Lycra stirrup stretch ski pants, about $170 : both by Head Sportswear. Goggles by CeBe, about $50. Gloves by Gordini U.S.A. Ski boots by Nordica. U.S.A. Skis by Kastle. Ski poles by Scott U.S.A.  


Where’s My Love by SYML. WARNING!!!! Major character death and really, really sad… 10/10 will make you cry. I fell in love with this though! Not really pairing centric but more of a story about how you’ve affected the following characters. Stiles x reader, with Liam and the reader as brother and sister. Set after season five, but doesn’t really mention s5′s storyline too much.

Cold bones

Yeah, that’s my love

She hides away like a ghost

Does she know that we bleed the same?

Don’t wanna cry but I break that way

The entire universe seemed to hold its breath, as if it too were stunned by tragedy that had transpired.

As if it too cursed the chaos it had created.

Liam peered around the silent church, hating the sea of black that he was met with. He remembered you joking that you would never want anyone to wear black to your funeral, as no event should ever be so somber.

He’d worn the darkest shade of green he could find just for you.

Funerals, he’d remembered you telling him, are to celebrate the life of the newly deceased, not to mourn them.

But how could he celebrate a life lost too soon, though? How could he sit there in a pew between his mother and the boy you’d loved since primary school, with a priest preaching about the life of a girl he’d never met, and want to do anything but scream?

Perhaps this was all just some twisted nightmare, and he’d soon wake up to find you singing obnoxiously from your shared bathroom as you used all the hot water. He’d find you making him pancakes shaped like whatever cartoon character struck your fancy that morning, as Liam would always be a kid in your eyes, and dancing around the kitchen because what wasn’t there to be happy about?

God, he missed you. He missed you showing up to every single one of his lacrosse games, even when you’d had the flu, decked out from head to toe in sportswear with Dunbar plastered all over it. He missed you telling him bedtime stories when he couldn’t sleep, even though he was older now and it so wasn’t cool to have your sister tell you bedtime stories. He missed your horrible driving, and having to cling to the seat in fear of dying on the ride to school. He missed your constant reassurance that he wasn’t a failure, despite his many reasons to believe so, and the smiles you gave him simply because you loved him and he was your little brother, flaws and all.

You’d been there for him through everything. His IED, being kicked out of Devenford, the bite… You’d been an anchor in rough waters and the roof during the storm. Liam only wished that he had thought to thank you while you were alive, and not merely whispering it during a prayer in the hopes that you could hear him.

He clutched a handful of daisies in his hand and knew that wherever you were, you were still watching over him.

Cold sheets

But where’s my love?

I am searching high 

I’m searching low in the night

Does she know that we bleed the same?

Don’t wanna cry but I break that way

Stiles cursed lowly, sleep evading him as the only thing that ran through his mind being the last memory he had of you.

“Stiles.” You murmured softly, your usual dimpled grin tainted by a faint sense of sadness as you caressed his face. “It’s okay, everything is okay.”

“You’re dying.” He whispered, leaning into your intoxicating touch despite the unfamiliar cold that had overtaken your typically warm hands.

“I know.” You replied calmly. “I’m sorry. I am in love with you, Stiles Stilinski, and it’s okay.” You responded lowly, your fingers falling from his face as you felt your strength leave you. 

He groaned, throwing back the covers violently as he made his way towards the bathroom. He clutched the sides of the sink as he fought back the urge to vomit, his eyes in the mirror turning the slightest shade of blue as his reflection morphed into the spitting image of you.

Stiles watched in resigned sadness, the hallucination of your smile not an uncommon sight. It had haunted him ever since that night at the turf, when the killer had launched a final arrow into the night air, catching them all by surprise as it embedded itself in your chest.

If Stiles had been able to sleep at all, he would surely only dream of the way the world slowed down as your body fell to the ground, of the silence that had fallen over them all as they watched the girl that had radiated light fade away before their very eyes.

He would dream only of the darkness.

Stiles supposed that the dreams would be no different than reality, as the image of you bleeding out in his arms seemed to be burned into the backs of his eyelids. There was simply no escaping you.

He couldn’t look at the sky without seeing your eyes, couldn’t lay in bed without missing your warmth beside him, couldn’t even speak to your brother without being overwhelmed with guilt at not having been able to save you as he looked into a face with features that were so similar to your own.

Stiles stared deeply into the eyes of the girl before him, watching in awe as she raised her pale hand to wave playfully at him. His eyes trailed down her body, met with the sight of her blood soaked shirt, and he allowed himself a strangled groan before he pulled his fist back and let it fly.

It collided with the mirror sharply, the shards digging into his knuckles and raining down around him within the bathroom. He peered down curiously at a shard on the counter, a brilliant blue eye looking back at him.

Stiles fell to the floor, sobs wracking his body as he buried his face in his hands.

“Stiles. It’s okay, everything is okay.”

He would never forget you, never stop loving you, because out of everyone Stiles had ever met, you were sole person that had loved him enough to hold him closer when the world went to hell instead of pushing him away.

And god, would he kill to hold you closer once more.

Did she run away?

Did she run away? I don’t know

If she ran away, If she ran away

Come back home

Just come home

Isaac stared at the blank phone, having gone numb hours ago. He couldn’t seem to process what he’d just been told, unable to handle the reality that had never seemed further from a lie.

“She’s gone, Isaac.”

Gone? How could you be gone? You were the only person in this universe that had loved him unconditionally, that had never treated him like the freak he had believed himself to be… you couldn’t just be gone.

He’d been convinced you were invincible once, with your bullet proof smile and open arms. You’d handled the world with a grin, and any problem that came your way was never a snag in the road, but merely another adventure in your eyes.

Then he’d been bitten, thrown into a world that he’d have perhaps been better off without knowing of. He’d seen you bruised, bloody, and broken in a way he had never expected to see the girl with the sky in her eyes and sun in her smile.

But he’d seen you come back stronger every time, learn to hit harder and love fiercer, learn to protect not only yourself, but those around you. He’d watched you grow, always reminding you that he was there to fall back on should you need him.

He supposed the best part about you was that you accepted help when you needed it, and offered it even if you had to break your own back to give it. You’d been hurt so many times, but your sufferings only inspired you to give more chances and love more freely.

“There was an accident at the the turf, but she wanted you to know that she loved you.”

Isaac felt like throwing up. He picked up the phone and chucked it at the wall, shattering it to pieces like the hunter had shattered you, had shattered everything.

You’d been there for him through everything, every wicked word and loss. He’d watched everyone he loved fall apart in front of him, but you were always there, a shoulder to lean on when times were tough and a lantern to guide him when he lost his way.

He’d compared you to the stars once- limitless and infinite and wonderful. He’d told you that you were his favorite constellation, that one day the world would spin the greatest stories about you.

You’d loved the night sky, always dreamed of the wonders the universe held outside of the world you knew. It seemed that now you were a part of the universe you had loved so much.

“Isaac, she loved you, and she only ever wanted you to be happy.”

Happy? How could they expect him to be happy, when his best friend was six feet under and he had done nothing to stop it? How could they expect him to be happy, when the girl who had sent him off to France with a hug and a goodbye would no longer be there to welcome him home with a hello and open arms?

Isaac stared at the crack he’d made in the wall, gaze straying to his view of Paris spread out before him like a vision clouded in grey. 

He grabbed his suitcase and began to pack, no longer captivated by the world outside his window.

He was going home.

(Although it wasn’t really home without you.)

I got a fear, oh in my blood

She was carried up into the clouds, high above

If you bled, I bleed the same

If you’re scared I’m on my way

Lydia gently grasped the photo taped on her mirror, pale hand shaking as she traced the lines of your face as you laughed alongside the red haired girl.

She couldn’t bear to look at the next picture, with you snuggled between Allison and herself. Lydia was the only one left of her group of best friends, the only one left to remember the adventures and the secrets you’d shared.

Yes, Allison’s death had hit her like a gunshot, leaving her scarred in a way she knew she would never quite heal from. But you had been there, with your arms around her as you both cried, letting her know that she wasn’t alone.

If Allison’s death had been a gunshot, yours was like a hydrogen bomb going off, leaving her in pieces and completely unstable. You had been her best friend since before either of you could walk, learning and growing together as you protected each other fiercely.

Losing you was an ache that would never go away.

You two had practically been attached at the hip, closer than sisters and sharing a bond that rivaled even that of Stiles and Scott’s. She’d been through it all with you by her side, her partner in crime and biggest ally in every battle. You were someone that she could always count on, whether it be for a helping hand or just someone to watch movies with all night.

Lydia smiled despite the tears pooling in her eyes as she eyed the next picture, taken in the third grade as you proudly nursed a black eye and broken nose after having gotten into a fight with a boy who had picked on Lydia. It had always made her laugh, and she remembered you writing what you’d told your mother about the incident on the back in your messy cursive “I only get into fights for Lyds! But ma, you shoulda seen the other guy!”

Her lungs constricted painfully, a tear running down her pale cheek as her eyes roamed her room, covered in pictures documenting the two of you over the years.

Lydia rubbed furiously at her eyes, not caring that she was most likely ruining her mascara. She sobbed a bit hysterically, cursing the cruelty of fate and what it had reduced her to.

What it had reduced you to.

You should have been alive, getting ready to graduate with the rest of them in the spring like you’d always dreamed of. You’d been planning for prom and college with Lydia since you both could speak, and it didn’t feel right to go through senior year without you. This was supposed to be your year.

You were supposed to be the maid of honor in each other’s weddings and the godmother to the other’s children. You were supposed to cry to each other late at night about your children growing up too fast and make fun of the other parents at high school reunions. You were supposed to do it all together.

Lydia knew that you were still there, but she had never felt more alone.

She still held you close to her heart, the matching lockets you’d purchased together still around her neck while you’d been buried in yours. She would never forget you, and you would always play a huge role in her life.

But life would never be the same without you.

Lydia didn’t want it to be.

Did you run away?

Did you run away? I don’t need to know

If you ran away

If you ran away, come back home

Just come home

A barely audible sigh escaped Scott’s lips as he plopped down gently on the cold ground, the early winter air causing his breath to fog. 

He placed the large bouquet of daisies on the ground in front of the gravestone, his rough yet incredibly caring hands tracing the lines of the simple yet elegant tombstone that bore your name.

“I brought your favorites. You always loved picking daisies when we were kids. Mom started a garden of them out front just for you. You would have loved them.” Scott began, voice hoarse as if he hadn’t used it in weeks.

God, it’s been three months already. We miss you. It’s like we were one massive clock, but someone took out all the little cogs that made us tick right, and now we can’t seem to make time pass.” He spoke with a tight smile, teeming with sadness.

“I still can’t believe you’re gone.” He whispered, breath catching as if the words pained him. He gazed down at his hands, palms riddled with bloody crescents from his control slipping far too often since you’d left them.

“You always were my anchor, in way. You kept us all grounded, even as kids. You were practically a mother at age three.” He let out a sad chuckle. “But you were a little sister to me, too. I… I promised I’d protect you. I’ll never forgive myself for letting you down. It’s just… I never thought… I could never have pictured a life without you. You were always just there.”

“Liam’s doing well with lacrosse. Still misses you more than anything, but you would be so proud of him. Stiles… Stiles is having a hard time. He’s been in love with you since the first grade. That’s not something you can ever recover from. I’m worried about him. You would have known what to do, you were always so good with this stuff.” He sighed, toying with a stray daisy.

“Lydia’s been a mess. Can’t sleep, and hardly ever eats. I’ve been forcing her to eat breakfast every morning during first period just so she remembers to eat. Malia catches herself going to text you sometimes about little things, and she goes to the bathroom tor cry every time. Kira sends us updates sometimes, but I know she’s been having a tough time.” Scott trailed off, exhaustion weighing him down as he vented to the marble.

“Isaac’s back. He’s staying with me again, but he’s back to square one with control. Derek came back to help, and Cora did too. Jackson even flew in for a few weeks, and I think he’s planning on staying. It’s like the whole group came back together, except for you. We all miss you like crazy.” Scott picked up another daisy, absentmindedly weaving a daisy chain like you’d taught him a few summers ago.

“God, even Coach misses you. Nothing’s been the same without you around. You deserved so much better, kid. You deserved the whole world.” He was silent for a few minutes, weaving the daisy chain as he allowed himself a few moments of peace in your presence. 

He finished the chain, gently draping it over the tombstone as he admired his work. “Maybe in another life we’ll all get that happily ever after.”