#even more over the top is that I’m considering knitting a specific button hole for my lone acorn button

[vashti-lives]

I am of the opinion that everyone should be in the habit of making gage swatches when knitting stuff where the final size really matters but I will admit knitting a little sample button band so I can decide which button hole method to use (the one in the pattern will be too big) is probably overkill.

[iceeckos12]

and he sees dawn before the rest of the world

or: a fucked up little au of 200. intended to be unsettling so just be warned warnings for: unreality (i think that’s the appropriate term? please lmk if not), implied self harm, fucked up relationship dynamics; lmk if i should tag anything else

Bzzzt! Bzzzt! Bzzzt!

“Ugh, five more minutes,” Martin hissed, throwing an arm across his face, as though he could stop the barrage of sound just by covering his eyes. His alarm was unsympathetic to his whinging, continuing to scream its daily mourning dirge, grieving the end of another period of blessed rest. “Fine, fine! I’m getting up, christ…”

He reached clumsily for the phone on his bedside table, only for his fingers to scrabble uselessly around the ghost of its presence. He was momentarily so stymied by the absence that it took him longer than it should’ve to remember that he’d moved it to his desk, to prevent him from giving into the temptation to hit the snooze button just one more time.

Letting out another slew of curses, Martin shuffled onto his other side and reached for

A jaw-cracking yawn near split Martin’s face in two as he hunched over the gleaming tea kettle, steam beginning to pour from the spout. He shuffled his feet, eyes meandering sightlessly over the cow-shaped mug drying on the counter, the cluster of crumbs that he must’ve missed when cleaning up after dinner last night.

He hated mornings. Maybe it was the preemptive dread he felt at the thought of going to work; maybe it was because he hated having to be upright this early in the morning. Either way, he felt strangely disconnected from his morning routine, each motion carried out with habitual, distant efficiency as his thoughts raced along like a hamster on a wheel just below the surface.

It...was a bit silly for him to be worried about work, though. The stuff he was doing was interesting, and he had the loveliest coworkers a guy could ask for. They’d even offered to teach him a thing or two about artifact restoration once they learned the truth about his CV.

He drew himself up to his full height and rolled his shoulders back, clouded sigh mingling with the fog from the boiling water. Things were going well. Hell, he was actually going to get top surgery sometime in the next year or so, which was amazing considering his teenage self would’ve laughed at the very idea of being out.

There was no reason to dread going to work.

Martin carefully poured the water into the mug, letting the tea steep before adding a splash of milk and sugar. When he picked the mug up, the heat from the tea had bled into the ceramic, so warm as to be uncomfortable against the delicate skin of his palms. He didn’t let go, just kept on gripping the mug, like trying to contain the last gasp of a dying star.

Martin stared around his kitchen. The waterstains on the inside of the cow mug slowly evaporating into the still air; the crumbs that had sat there for who knows how long. The empty, blank face of his fridge.

Martin lifted the mug, and steam collected on his glasses as his breath wafted over the surface of the tea. He drew away, waiting for the lenses to clear, before leaning in for another sip.

His reflection stared back at him, a monochrome facsimile of his face rimmed in white smoke, and he recoiled, the mug slipping from

Working nine to five, what a way to make a living…

Martin stared out the window, his hand pillowed in the palm of his hand as Dolly Parton crooned in his ears. Split second by split second, he let his eyes catch on a point in the darkened surroundings, only letting his vision blur into incoherence when that fixed point whipped out of sight. It was a game he sometimes played when he got bored of reading or playing cards on his phone.

The old woman across from him let out a quiet grunt and shuffled, drawing his attention back inside the train. She was a gnarled old thing, bowed by the gravity of grief and time and life, though Martin couldn’t say for certain whether it was one well-lived.

Barely getting by, it’s all taking and no giving...

That was the thing about people watching: Martin was never quite sure if it was disrespectful to make assumptions about a person’s life based on a passing glimpse. He could never be sure if the person with the grumpy expression had a foul attitude, or if they were just a kind person on the tail-end of a truly awful day.

The old woman was knitting though, and Martin generally found it safe to assume that knitters were nice people.

For a moment he thought about taking out his headphones and striking up a conversation; the pattern looked devilishly complicated, and as a beginning knitter, he always appreciated tips. There was an unfinished set of fingerless green gloves in the back of his closet; it was easy for hands to get cold in the Archives, and the color suited

“Alright, Martin?”

Martin startled, his pen clattering to the floor. He looked up to find Sasha perched on the edge of his desk, grinning like the cat who’d just eaten the canary. Or, he thought she was. His eyes kept skittering from one corner of her face to the other, like a smooth stone skipping across a lake.

“Uh…” Frowning slightly, he let his gaze travel over the shelves of books, the humming lights, his cluttered workstation. He removed his glasses so he could rub at his aching eyes, and let out a deep sigh. Probably just the stress. “Yeah—yeah! Sorry, I’ve been distracted all morning.”

Martin got the impression of Sasha’s grin being tempered with genuine concern. “I’m sorry to hear that. Is everything okay?”

“I think so. Just...work, and my mum…” he gave an expansive you know sort of gesture at life in general. “Thank god the weekend’s coming. Anyway, is there something I can help you with?”

“Well, I was going to ask if you wanted to come get drinks with Mel and Tim and I after work, but…” She cut him a meaningful glance, the bottomless holes where her eyes should be boring bright spotlights into the back of his skull. “We’d understand if you’re not feeling up to it.”

“Is Georgie coming?”

Sasha shrugged. “Probably. Mel didn’t say so, but they’ve been all over each other since they started dating.”

Martin laughed. “True.” Tried to gauge how he was feeling, whether or not he was up to a night of socializing. You should go, a strangely posh little voice murmured in the back of his head, and he found himself saying, “Actually yeah, I would like to come. I could use a night out.”

Sasha clapped him on the shoulder, and the impact rattled through him like a gong being struck. The echoes of it vibrated all the way down to his toes. “Excellent.”

Martin hesitated, and then, not entirely sure of what he was asking, “What about J

“Thanks for waiting with us,” Georgie said, smiling beatifically up at him. Passed out on her shoulder, Melanie let out a drunken snuffle and curled over, like she was thinking of climbing through the spaces of Georgie’s ribcage and sleeping in her chest cavity forever.

“Not a problem,” Martin replied, scratching the back of his neck.

To be honest, waiting with her was as much for his benefit as theirs. At first, he’d thought it was just stress; now, he was very sure that something was wrong. It wasn’t anything specific, or even bad; more like there was a sepia camera filter tinting the world dusty and nostalgic.

After his third drink, he’d looked into Tim’s laughing face and thought he might burst into tears. And he still didn’t know what Sasha was supposed to look like.

But he didn’t want to worry her, so he just bit his lip and rocked back and forth on his heels, even though the motion made his head spin that much worse.

(Maybe he needed to take a couple of days off. Have a lie-in. But that would—that would delay his work. The Institute’s work. Delays were bad; he felt strongly enough about that to carve it directly into his skin so that he’d never forget. He could roll down his sleeve and take a peek at it whenever his motivation slipped, like checking a watch for the time.)

For lack of anything else to say, he nodded toward Melanie. “She’s really out, huh?”

“She’s always been a lightweight.” Her tone was wry, but her eyes were soft and fond as she brushed Melanie’s bangs back from her face. “Never gets hungover though, the lucky bastard.”

“The nerve!” Martin said, affecting offense, which sent them right into another giggling fit.

Once he got his breath back, Martin mentioned offhand, “You know, considering how similar they are, I’m surprised that her and J̷̧̱̜͕͕̤͉̣̺̺̝͖̠̹̜͙̣͉̩̺̤̟͉͓̞̹̗́̆̂̋͆̊̎́͂̑͋̌͊͘̚͠ͅo̶̧̨͕̖͔̬̖̝̪͚̻̟̠̜̣̰̅n̶̉́̎͑̀͂͆̿̾͛̾̔̐͌́̅͝��̥͂̒̆̐́͊̄̾̍̅̅

“Stop it!” Martin screamed, grabbing the mug from the counter and throwing it across the room. It shattered against the wall, scattering shards of ceramic across the floor. “I know

“What you’re doing,” Martin gripped the bathroom counter, ignoring the persistent ringing of his alarm, staring deeply into his reflection, “Stop it, stop it, nononon̴̡̡͚̮̠͙̻͔͎͈̜̓̈́̈́͜͜ͅǫ̸̯̠̱̖̲͙͍͎͒̇̑͒ṅ̶̨̩̳̩̝̹̳͎͈̬̦͆́̈́́͐̏̈́̕͝͝o̸̡̻̱̗̥̮̙̳̞͗̄͋̈́̀͝n̸̢̛̟͙̘̱̩͕̦̫̤̮͆͑̊͋́̂̽͜o̶̘̱̗̘̘͑̿͜ņ̶̥̞̠͕͓̠͔͚̮͈̬͕̀͗̄̓͑͑͛̕ͅő̸̮̫̓͌̾̌͋́̂̏̒̃̃̄̚n̵̗̫͕̺̻͔̭͖̉͒͗̀̈́̃̅o̴͓͉͉͗͋̎̕—”

“Shhh, it’s okay. I’m sorry, it’s okay—”

“No!” Martin shrieked, shoving Jon’s hands away, skittering backward across the broken and cracked stones of the Panopticon. Through the arched windows, the sky was a poisonous green and black, and multitudes of eyes orbited the room, watched his every movement with sickening fascination. “Just—stop.”

Luminous gaze weary and resigned, Jon did as he was bid, dropping back onto his heels.

Rubbing sweat and grime and tears from his face, breathing harshly through his mouth, Martin took a moment to remember where he was, why he was here. It always took a moment for everything to come back.

As though unable to keep silent any longer, Jon asked, “So what was it this time?”

“Don’t,” Martin hissed, dragging his hands through his greasy hair.

Though his expression went mulishly annoyed, Jon raised his hands placatingly, a silent, alright, you win. It was a familiar gesture, one that he’d done so many times while they were living in Scotland, while they were traveling the devastated landscape of the apocalypse. It made Martin ache for when things were simpler, when his heart didn’t just feel like one big bruise.

He gently set the thought aside, and turned a more assessing eye on the Panopticon. Normally the changes were insignificant, but something thick and red and black had started to coil around the windows, weaving in and out of the floor, cracking the stonework. Martin traced the strange things with his eyes, frowning—

“Christ, Jon,” he whispered in horrified realization. “Are...are those corpse roots?”

Jon bobbed his head. “They’ve long since overtaken the rest of London. It’s just us, now.”

Martin sucked in a long, frustrated breath through his teeth. There was no point trying to talk any sense into Jon, not after so long, and force would only result in immediately getting kicked back into that horrible dream world.

“And the others?”

Jon shrugged, tracing the cracks in the earth with his fingers. “Still alive, and living happily in the dream I made for them.” He didn’t say, unlike you, but the implication was so loud he might as well have screamed it.

“Shut up,” Martin muttered, pushing to his feet and limping to one of the windows.

Corpse roots, as far as the eye could see. They covered the city of London in a blanket of tangled black, so thick that it was impossible to see the buildings beneath.

“Was it worth it?” he asked, sagging against the side of the window, too tired to be angry.

When the silence persisted a second too long, Martin turned around to find Jon with his head tilted back, examining the corpse roots consuming what had once been the Beholding’s seat of power, expression distant and thoughtful. The eyes, ever-watching, never understanding, drifted closer, greedily drinking in the sight.

When Martin realized that Jon wasn’t planning on answering, he let out another sigh, ruffled his bangs away from his face, and said, “You’re never there.”

Jon’s gaze snapped to him with a laser-edged focus. “Sorry?”

“If you’re going to trap me in a dream,” Martin said, each syllable clipped and precise, “You could at least be there.”

Like it always did, Jon’s face crumpled, and he looked away. “...I don’t deserve it.”

“Oh, we’re well past that and you know it!” Martin shrieked, striking his fist against the stone. “You made your fucking decision to damn the world, to hell with whatever we thought, the least you could do is stop hiding behind your pointless guilt and act like this is what you actually want!”

It would’ve been better, if Jon had simply become drunk with power and was no longer listening to reason. The fact that he’d made this same decision every single day with clear, unclouded eyes and sound judgement—as Jon the human, rather than Jon the lynchpin of the apocalypse, pupil of the Eye—made Martin want to scream.

“I do want it!” Jon snapped back, then quieter, “I do.” He looked up at the corpse roots again, eyes going misty. “I just—I should witness every second of misery and pain that I’m causing. I don’t deserve to just...forget.”

Wind snapped and howled around them like a creature mad with rage, and Martin idly wondered what would happen to this world once Jon died. If it would all go back to the way it had been before, or if the shell of the apocalypse would remain until the end of time, a corpse husk of a reality warped beyond repair.

“You shouldn’t have to experience this alongside me though,” Jon continued, rallying. “So I would really appreciate it if you’d stop breaking your dreams.”

“Tough,” Martin snapped back, folding his arms obstinately over his chest.

“You could be happy!” Jon reiterated, stabbing his index finger into the palm of his hand. “You could just...live your life! Forget! There’s no point in being here.”

“It’s a deal, remember? Where you go, I go. Fuck you very much, but I don’t break my promises.”

Jon stared at him for one beat, then another—and then promptly burst out laughing, his whole body shaking with the force of it. Martin stared at him, utterly bewildered, as the laughing slowly began to dissolve into desperate, heaving sobs, as he began rocking back and forth, arms wrapped around himself in a mockery of comfort.

“I miss you,” Jon gasped out, half-crazed. “So much. I miss you every day even though you’re right in front of me. But I can’t go to you, because I don’t deserve to, not when I’m the one who trapped you here. I’m everything that’s wrong with the world. I always have been.”

“Jon,” Martin sighed, low and tired.

Jon buried his face into his knees. “No, you shouldn’t—you shouldn’t forgive me just because you pity me, that’s not what I—I don’t—”

“Who said anything about forgiveness?” Martin shook his head. “Fine. You’re an asshole, and I hate you. But it’s like I said.” He gestured toward the Panopticon, the roots, the poisonous sky. “When has deserving ever mattered?”

Jon lifted his face from his knees, though his gaze stayed rooted to the floor. “...I suppose.”

“Right,” Martin agreed. “I’ve accepted that you’re not going to change your mind, but...at the very least, I don’t want to die alone. So can you please just…”

There was a long, weighted pause.

They’d had arguments like this what felt like hundreds of times before. Martin begging for Jon to change his mind, Jon refusing with that same resigned, determined expression on his face, before sending Martin back into his dreams.

Maybe it was because Martin wasn’t asking him to change his mind this time. Maybe it was because they were so close to the end of all things, and soon they’d be the last two people on earth. Maybe it was because Jon was tired, had been for so, so long, and he had won anyway, so there was no point in fighting any longer.

“Alright,” Jon whispered.

…

…

...

Bzzzt! Bzzzt! Bzzzt!

“Ugh, five more minutes,” Martin hissed, throwing an arm across his face.

Somewhere in the far distance, the toilet flushed. A moment later, a pair of feet padded lightly into the room, hesitated at the edge of the bed, and then made their way over to the desk. The alarm abruptly went silent.

Martin uncovered his eyes and grinned up at Jon as he tentatively slid back between the covers, every movement careful and deliberate, like he was reading stage directions from a script.

“Look at Mr. Workaholic, having a lie-in,” Martin teased, pulling Jon into his arms and inhaling the scent of his coconut shampoo. “Must be the end of the world, or something.”

Jon stiffened for just a moment, before turning around and burying his face into Martin’s chest. “Or something.”

[darkpoisonouslove]

“Happy New Company” Chapter 2

This disagreed with me a little as there was supposed to be a flashback but it was getting too long and it’s getting too late so the flashback will be in the next chapter along with some others.

Griffin looped her arm through his and he was glad she went through the trouble even when she’d have to let go of him the moment the door opened and they started getting hugs and handshakes. The warmth of her touch complemented the lingering feeling of her kiss and kept the cold of the last day of the year away and his spirits high. And he hoped they would only get higher as they were met with the inviting demeanor of their friends, even if that would prompt him to pull away from her for a while. But she would still be right there by his side as they were also surrounded by other people that loved them. He couldn't imagine anything more magical.

He rang the bell and looked at Griffin who smiled at him, and if she had been the one to encourage him the previous times they’d stood in front of Marion and Oritel’s door waiting to be let in, then this time her smile was more grateful for the hand he’d given her with the mess in her head, and he ached to stroke her cheek and offer her more comfort for her to lean in but he was holding the two bags that contained their entertainment for tonight and he didn’t want to let go of her yet so he had to pass on that. Regretfully. Very regretfully.

The door opened, drawing his attention away from the unfortunate turn of events and revealing Oritel who smiled at them.

“Welcome,” he said as he stepped aside to let them come in where Hagen was also waiting for them. Not that Valtor was upset at seeing them but he’d been expecting Marion and Faragonda to meet them. Yet, they were nowhere to be seen, leaving them with the two men.

“Sorry we’re late,” Griffin said, looking at Oritel as she let go of Valtor’s arm to take off her coat. It was more than warm at Marion and Oritel’s house and she’d been bothered enough by everything in her head to allow the heat to get to her, too, and cook her alive. “We had some things that had to be dealt with,” she said but her eyes were now on Valtor to make sure he knew she didn’t blame him and he appreciated it, hoping she’d be able to read that in the look her returned.

“That’s okay. We’re all over the place ourselves,” Oritel said as he took Griffin's coat from her, surprising with the honesty. He usually insisted on presenting a collected front but after Bloom’s birth and all the emotions they had shared around it–all four Valtor, Griffin, Faragonda and Hagen had dropped everything the moment they’d heard that Marion had given birth and had driven to the hospital to deliver the congratulations and encouragement that were in order and Marion and Oritel had both seemed really touched by their readiness to help with everything they could–that seemed to go to the back of his mind when they were together. Whether because he considered them friends now or because the care for baby Bloom had left him too exhausted was yet to be determined. Though, the fact that they had a babysitter to help them was making Valtor lean towards the first. “You need a hand there?” Oritel asked him, nodding towards the bags he was holding.

“No, I’m good,” Valtor said, giving them to Griffin who was quickly by his side to take them so that he could take his coat off as well. Not that he didn’t trust Oritel, but he preferred to have her hold on to what they’d prepared together specifically for the occasion, and Griffin seemed to return his feelings if the smirk she gave him was anything to judge by. “You seem a little underdressed,” he said as he gave his coat to Oritel as well, looking over his outfit. He was wearing jeans which was definitely a first and the top two buttons of his shirt were unbuttoned which the lack of tie allowed for. Apart from their stay in the cabin, Oritel had always worn a tie when they’d gathered, and it was strange to see him without one. “No appreciation for my Christmas gift, I see,” Valtor teased, letting enough amusement seep into his voice so that he wouldn’t be taken seriously.

“Yeah, I decided to loosen up a little this time,” Oritel returned, not letting the comment get to him even for a second which hadn’t been Valtor’s idea anyway. Otherwise, things would have been different but that was all behind him now. Those teases were the most biting remarks that left his mouth these days and perhaps it was less ‘in with the new’ and more ‘out with the old’ but it seemed to work well enough not only for him, but for everyone else too so he was content with that progress. “What about you? I don’t see the gift from Marion and me either even though it would be very appropriate considering the essence of the celebration,” Oritel asked, making them sound like two kids that were insecure enough in their friendship still to need validation over every single interaction.

It looked like Griffin had had the same thought because her lips were pursed in an attempt to hold her laughter in when he glanced at her.

“I thought it wouldn't be such a tragedy if I left it at home this time,” he said as he wore an obviously fake apologetic expression. He and Griffin had been worried enough as it was. They hadn’t needed anything else to prompt even more negativity. “It’s been put to good use, though,” he reassured but it seemed that wasn’t enough for Oritel who looked at Griffin for confirmation and only seemed to relax once she’d nodded. “Good call on loosening up, though. You could use that,” Valtor said as he patted Oritel’s shoulder theatrically and focused on Griffin and the bags she was holding.

Oritel did give him a glare that he pretended he didn’t notice before moving to hang their coats, leaving them with Hagen for the time being.

Griffin looked at Hagen as Valtor took the bags from her and the robotics engineer turned his head away with a pout on his face like the drama queen that he was. “Come on, Hagen, it was just an innocent little kiss,” Griffin whined, entering her own drama queen mode and leaving Valtor with the striking realization of how much she and Hagen were alike in that regard. Faragonda seemed to like the dramatical types. Though, considering the matching wedding bands on his and Griffin's hands he couldn’t really judge. If anything, an overdramatic spouse certainly made things more interesting. And he would never trade Griffin for anything in the world.

“Innocent is not a word that goes with you,” Hagen grumbled as he crossed his arms, turning slightly away from Griffin and looking exactly like a fussy child, making Valtor look away to make sure he wouldn’t burst into laughter and ruin the entire scene they were putting on.

“You don’t mean that,” Griffin drawled out the last word as she summoned her best glassy look that gave the impression she was about to cry from Hagen’s rude treatment as she moved so that he could look right into her eyes and feel guilty for his words. Valtor was pretty sure that his wife had been an inquisitor in a previous life or something. And she wasn’t really trying to torture Hagen currently.

“Like hell I don’t,” Hagen said, looking her right in the eyes as he did his best to remain impartial to the gut-wrenching stare she was giving him but his gaze softened almost instantly. Valtor had to give him credit, though, since he was holding up far better than Faragonda or Ediltrude and Zarathustra would have been in that situation, or, well, him.

“You know Faragonda loves you,” Griffin said seriously, dropping the pretense and making Hagen’s resolve drop and shatter as well, his arms unfolding and falling at his sides as his lips even got pulled into a gentle smile. “Besides, I have Valtor,” Griffin said as she walked to him and wrapped her arms around him, her touch tender and firm at the same time, making him smile as well which kind of ruined his own theatrics.

“Oh, so I’m just a replacement since you can’t have what you want?” he asked, going for scandalized but the feeling of her body pressed against him was filling him with too much content for it to look believable. Not to mention that he wrapped an arm around her waist despite being allegedly offended.

“I told you,” Griffin said as she turned to him, her gaze holding his as she put genuine emotion into her words, “you’re the only thing I want.” She gave the words a moment to sink in before going for a kiss on the cheek.

That wasn’t enough for him, though, so he turned his head, capturing her lips into a passionate kiss and pulling her even more into himself which drew a moan from her throat that gave him the perfect opportunity to deepen the kiss as his tongue slipped into her mouth. He almost dropped the bags he was holding in his desire to wrap his other arm around her as well and hold her so close that she was one with him well into the New Year. He couldn't imagine a better way to start another chapter of their life together and was seriously considering it when Hagen cleared his throat, abruptly severing his string of thoughts.

Valtor broke the kiss and opened his eyes to glare at Hagen for the interruption.

“I’m the one who deserves an apology for this display,” Hagen said coldly with a stone face, completely missing the point of the glare even when he’d read the reason behind it correctly. “And make sure to keep your wife away from my girlfriend,” Hagen added, knitting his eyebrows at the memory of the kiss.

“You mean her best friend?” Valtor asked. “Yeah, I don’t think that will happen.” He would gladly just keep holding on to Griffin and showering her in all the love he held for her, and if that meant holing themselves up in their bedroom and never leaving it again with the sun rays and the starlight as their only companions, he wouldn't mind too terribly. Griffin was all the world he needed. He was still surprised when he found that he’d miss the people they’d just only recently started bonding with–or at least he–and it was quite the shocker. But he couldn't lie to himself when he knew he would feel the absence of that feeling of being accepted by others, like he’d finally found his place in the world and he didn’t have to hide in Griffin's embrace–though, he was still highly tempted to simply because that was the best place to be–afraid that the world will throw him off of its surface if he dared poke his head out. “I wouldn't get between them and I would advise you not to do it either,” he said seriously, the advice genuine. He wouldn't take well to someone trying to take Griffin away from him or trying to make her distance herself from him. Which was just another plus of his mothers being sent to jail before he’d met her. They wouldn't have liked her and they’d had an uncanny way of getting inside his head so he was beyond relieved that he hadn’t had to go against them for his love for Griffin to be given a chance to bloom.

Hagen held his gaze, the grumpy facade falling away to reveal deeper emotions underneath, and Valtor knew he’d been heard. Hagen certainly knew how much Griffin and Faragonda meant to each other considering the effect Griffin's words had had on him earlier when she’d reassured him of Faragonda’s feelings for him. And Valtor knew he wasn’t seriously considering to try to stand between the two of them but it was better to warn him, just to be safe. It would be a shame if Faragonda broke up with him after Valtor had made so many efforts to get along with him. And he didn’t want to see Faragonda heartbroken over having to choose between Griffin and Hagen when she loved them both dearly.

“It was in the name of tradition, Hagen,” Griffin said, her tone lighter as she was trying to brighten the mood that had gotten too serious for a celebration.

“Speaking of which,” Valtor grabbed at the opportunity to move along to the fun parts of their gathering. Or at least, the fun parts for him and Griffin. It was yet to be seen what reaction he would get out of Hagen, though he had a feeling it wouldn't be in the positive spectrum of emotion. “Griffin and I have brought something for us all,” he said as he let go of her reluctantly to open one of the bags he was holding, “and something for you specifically,” he said, trying to keep a straight face as he pulled out the packet of cookies Griffin had made. There would be time to gloat later.

He handed it to Hagen who froze the moment he saw the treats inside. They were shaped as rings and while the normal cookies they had brought had several pieces of chocolate jutting out of each one, those only had one that made them look like engagement rings with a gemstone each.

Griffin had spent at least an hour–he might have spent about the same amount of time staring at her adorable expression of concentration instead of helping her–to make them just like that and he was still in awe that she’d taken to his crazy–and a little cruel–idea and had actually done most of the work on it. He’d expected her to tell him to drop it since it carried the potential for a serious argument but she’d just given him a wicked smile and whipped out the products she needed to make the cookies. And he had fallen in love yet again.

Just as he’d expected, though, Hagen’s reaction to the “cookies” was very polar to the amused energy radiating from both him and Griffin. He didn’t explode but the look on his face unambiguously suggested that he was extremely done with their prank. And they hadn’t even brought it to its full potential yet.

Valtor sighed dramatically. “No appreciation of our hard work,” he turned to look at Griffin who met him with a sad gaze carrying just a hint of disappointment in it.

“I thought you would be a bit more considerate having in mind your own feelings on the matter of meddling,” Hagen tried, the annoyance practically making up his tone but there was also some hurt in there. Like, he’d been betrayed and the realization that his actions might have hurt Hagen, hit Valtor harder than he’d thought and he felt a pang of guilt and some anxiety setting at the pit of his stomach since he hadn’t expected Hagen to consider him trustworthy. And he’d done everything to prove he wasn’t.

He opened his mouth to apologize but was interrupted when the others decided to join them. They first heard Faragonda cooing at Bloom before she walked into the living room, walking side to side with Marion who was carrying the baby in her arms, and Oritel walked behind them, looking like he was expecting something to attack so he was keeping himself battle ready.

“Put this away,” Hagen growled as he shoved the packet in his hands only for Griffin to snatch it away as she headed towards her best friend, leaving both Hagen and Valtor frozen at their places.

“Griffin,” Marion noticed her first since Faragonda was preoccupied with Bloom who was currently quite content to be holding on to her finger and was looking at her with her big blue eyes, returning the smile Faragonda was giving her. “I can’t quite welcome you currently,” Marion said apologetically even if her difficulty was understandable. Bloom occupied both her arms and Faragonda and Oritel were standing at her sides like guards that made it impossible for Griffin to reach her.

“That’s okay,” Griffin said as she smiled widely at Marion and then looked to the baby in her arms. “I know I’m not the center of the universe. At least at this party,” she said as she focused on Bloom herself. Her braid fell over her shoulder as she leaned down and the tender purple color must have caught Bloom’s attention because she let go of Faragonda’s finger and reached for Griffin's hair instead. “I’m sorry, Bloom, my braid is off limits,” she said as she returned the braid back to its previous position so that it was falling over her back and was hidden from Bloom’s gaze. “I don’t like my hair pulled,” Griffin said as she made an exaggerated expression to compensate for denying Bloom access to her hair.

“Since when?” Faragonda asked, so matter-of-factly, without even looking up, dragging Valtor out of his stupor only to send him into another shock as she practically voiced his thoughts. Only he’d thought it inappropriate to say that in the current situation. He’d have to up his game. He couldn't have Faragonda rooting him out of his place as the most scandalous and insufferable friend in the group.

Griffin looked genuinely shocked as well, the disbelief on her face looking like it had seeped deep inside her skin as it took her a few seconds to react. “I am very offended, Faragonda,” she said as she went for crossing her arms before she remembered she was holding the packet of cookies. “First, you don’t greet me and then you start spilling my kinks like that in polite company,” she huffed in fake outrage since there was no harm done really. Marion and Oritel seemed to have gotten used to what the friendship between Griffin and Faragonda actually looked like and not to the version they showed to outsiders. The only problem could be...

Faragonda looked at Griffin for a second before drawing her into a hug that his wife easily accepted. “Come here, you witch,” Faragonda said as her arms moved over Griffin's back, keeping her close.

“Look who’s all rude tonight,” Griffin bit in return. “And I’m the witch? Just so you know, I won’t be tolerating this behavior for a whole year so you’d better straighten it out in the next few hours,” she said as she pulled away from Faragonda and narrowed her eyes at her friend.

“Still have a few hours left to annoy you then,” Faragonda grinned as she tugged on Griffin's sleeve, causing her whole turtleneck to shift on her body.

“You keep that up,” Griffin chuckled dangerously in warning, “and I’ll have to take matters into my own hands,” she said, her head shaking slightly in a subtle threat that was supposed to convey the message even better as she pulled her sleeve back to its previous position.

“What are you gonna do? Punish me?” Faragonda asked as she stepped even closer to Griffin, holding her gaze in a challenge as she didn’t seem intimidated by the way Griffin was staring her down. But of course, they were too used to each other’s antics to fall for them. Or rather, to not fall for them and quit their banter. Valtor knew that from experience and while he had no problem with it, Hagen looked like he might drop to the floor any second now.

“As a matter of fact-”

“I think you should stop,” Valtor interrupted Griffin making everyone look at him except for Hagen who still seemed to be processing everything he’d heard. “Hagen looks like he’ll have a heart attack,” he added and hearing his name seemed to snap Hagen out of his stupor. “They’re just joking around,” he said as he put a hand on Hagen’s shoulder for support before walking over to the couch to set down the bags he’d been holding since they’d arrived.

“I’m so glad Daphne isn’t here to hear all of this,” Marion said as she looked at Oritel. “She’ll never look at either one of them the same way.” She was probably right about that since Daphne seemed to respect both of them deeply–even if she leaned a bit more towards Faragonda–and their childish behavior could prove a bit unsettling to someone who’d been looking up to them her whole life.

Her words seemed to snap Faragonda out of her BFF mode. “Right,” she said as she remembered they weren’t alone. “What’s that you’re holding?” she looked down at the packet of cookies, looking grateful to have something that allowed her to change the topic.

Hagen didn’t seem so thrilled by it as he walked over to her and crossed his arms frowning in Griffin's direction and some overprotective instinct came over Valtor, making him join them as well and wrap an arm around her shoulders. Not that he needed to watch out for her just because Hagen was currently having a problem with her–she could watch out for herself–but he wanted to be by her side since the whole idea with the cookies had been his doing and he’d hate for her to get the burnt of it when it was his responsibility. Though, he’d been ready to drop it.

“We made cookies,” Griffin announced enthusiastically as she looked up at him before returning her gaze on Faragonda. “We have the rings here and the others that are circles are in the bag on the couch,” she said as she shoved the packet in Faragonda’s hands. “You know, coming full circle and all that,” Griffin gave a sickly sweet smile, waiting for Faragonda’s reaction.

“They look delicious,” Faragonda complimented, not saying a word about their shape or Griffin's behavior that was very obviously off. She wasn’t that clueless–as proven before–so she was simply refusing to play into Griffin's prank. Perhaps for her own good as much as for Hagen’s. “We should open them and add them to the rest of the feast on the table,” she said before walking over to the kitchen to find two bowls to put the cookies in before they sat down on the table so that they wouldn't have to get up again.

Speaking of Hagen, his shoulders drooped at Faragonda’s words, in a way that suggested resignation rather then relief. And it seemed very familiar to Valtor, poking at the back of his mind from a memory that he preferred to keep buried away, for it caused him pain. Perhaps he had to dig it out, though, and use what he’d learned from it to talk to Hagen, apologize for the out-of-place prank and try to help him. It would be a good way to send the old year away and celebrate the change it had brought him. Because there was a significant change and he owed a big deal of that to the others who had done their best to reciprocate his efforts at building a genuine bond between them. He just needed to find a good moment to talk to Hagen when he could be sure they wouldn't be interrupted.

“Will you hold her while I go help Faragonda?” Marion’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts when she turned to Oritel, and he looked at the baby in her arms that was peaceful currently. Marion seemed to have managed to calm her down after Griffin had denied to entertain her with her own hair. And Bloom hated it when she didn’t get what she wanted, starting to cry almost immediately. A loud bossy baby was what she was and Valtor had joked that it was obvious she was Oritel’s daughter, making Marion laugh and throwing Oritel in shock before he’d admitted that Marion was less obstinate than he was. Not for a lack of stubbornness, though. She just tried to reason with people first.

“I think Valtor wants to hold her,” Oritel said to his wife before both of them turned to look at him and gave him knowing smiles, though he only got worried when he felt Griffin's gaze on himself as well.

He looked down at her to have her smile at him and catch his hand to disentangle herself from him. He did get an encouraging squeeze from her before she let go of him and allowed him to walk over to Marion, in a bit of a trance as he was.

He’d held Bloom before but he was still terrified of doing something wrong since she was so delicate and small. It would take just one wrong move to hurt her and he was always extremely self-conscious when he was holding her, watching out for every single action of his which was exhausting. He’d never thought it would be a tiny baby that would bring him down but he had to admit that holding her was the most frightening and draining experience of his life and he was in absolute awe of Marion and Oritel for the endless care they put in being parents. It was also fascinating, though, to watch as the little hands reached for him and the eyes lit up as she mirrored his smile–Griffin had told him he’d been smiling the entire time when he’d first gotten to hold Bloom and he’d realized how true that was as he’d observed himself later on–and it was absolutely surreal to him that Marion and Oritel trusted him enough to let him hold their newborn daughter and share their happiness. Just two months ago he would have never believed that that would be his life. It was more like a fairytale rather than the nightmare that had been his home before he’d met Griffin.

Marion handed him Bloom slowly, making sure that he was cradling her head the way she’d shown him the first time she’d given her to him and he was grateful instead of annoyed that she was checking on him because he probably trusted himself less than she trusted him. And that was another thing he added on the list of things he wanted to say. He fully intended to since he was no longer the man that had been taught that the more others knew about you, the more vulnerable you were. He’d listened to Griffin and had shown the others his true colors and they had welcomed him like family. And if his marriage to her had taught him one thing, it was that family was most definitely a strength.

Marion headed to the kitchen and he found himself alone with baby Bloom who seemed enlivened by the different face she was seeing and was moving under the blanket she was wrapped in. Oritel was watching him, of course, which made him feel a little less helpless at the face of the very unfamiliar territory that babies were to him. And so was Griffin which was the only thing that could make him tear his gaze away from the little life in his arms that he had to guard carefully.

Griffin met his gaze and the smile that took over her face was shy and broke out slow from under the layers and layers of worries that he knew were swirling around in her head, but that only made it more precious to him because it meant she was battling her fears in the name of their family just like he was. And it warmed his heart to see her look so lovingly and longingly at the sight that he was with a baby in his arms. He knew the combination of exaltation and terror that gripped at him when it was her who was holding Bloom always left him unable to feel his mind and his stomach for a good few minutes after while his heart was pounding madly in his throat and trying to shrink out of existence at the same time. And that just meant that her appreciation for what she was seeing was that much stronger for it to come out so distinguished among the sea of fears.

He smiled in response and was surprised when Griffin walked over to him, putting a hand on his back and somehow that felt even better than the moment she’d let him take her hand at the alter. Perhaps because she was taking the next step into their happiness and it was still hard to believe that there were more because from the moment he’d heard her say “I do”, he’d been the happiest man in the universe. And then they’d reached out to other people and somehow their happiness had seemed to expand. And now she was ready to reach for an even deeper connection between the two of them, for a tiny little human being that would outshine everything else with all the happiness woven into it.

“She’s so tiny,” Griffin whispered, her voice sounding like she’d start crying every second even if she’d already seen baby Bloom and had held her. And that was exactly what Valtor had said the first time he’d been allowed to hold the baby. Yet, she sounded like she was just rediscovering that fact and it had left her unable to function if anything like his thoughts had been running through her mind. “She’s so fragile,” Griffin added and this time there was definitely something dark in the words, something that seemed to startle Bloom as well as him as Griffin tangibly filled with negative energy and Valtor couldn’t bear to watch her like that since it was like he was watching the woman he loved die slowly in front of him while he was unable to do anything. But it was exactly his place to do something for her and help her out of her thoughts like she’d done so many times for him.

“And she’s so loved,” he said as he turned to look at Griffin and didn’t give up until she looked back at him and the tears in her eyes seemed to retreat scared by the security in his as it slowly seeped into her as well and the clouds behind her eyes cleared, letting the light of her love shine through.

Her fist closed into his suit jacket as she held on to him so that the emotions wouldn't sweep her away and offered Bloom one of her fingers, the baby latching on to it like it was a shiny thing that she wanted to add to her hoard and keeping her grounded.

[robertshugartca]

Layer cake. Seven-layer dip. Lasagna. There’s a lot to love...

Layer cake. Seven-layer dip. Lasagna. There’s a lot to love about layers, something Abigail Stern, founder and designer of base-layer company Matek , knows well. “I love layering talk,” she says to me on the phone. Of course, she and I are talking about the best way to layer for skiing, not discussing how to make dip. (If you must know, the perfect seven-layer dip is actually a six-layer dip—skip the olives and don’t @ me.)

Having graduated from Parsons and worked at Nike on sportswear before founding her own line of technical performance intimates, Stern is something of an expert on layering for skiing, so I sought out her advice ahead of a family ski trip I was taking to Jackson, Wyoming. I first learned to ski in Switzerland when I was about 4 years old and living in Germany. At the time, I spoke fluent German and was fearless. These days? I can utter a danke, but that’s about it. And don’t even try to put me near a black-diamond slope.

Showing off the Matek Gentoo and Dik-Dik before my first morning of skiing.

What do you even wear skiing these days? I wondered. Puffer bike shorts? Obviously not. Space blanket leggings that convert the body’s energy into heat? Also no, but somebody should get on that.

One thing I know for sure? My other expert source, professional skier Lexi duPont , isn’t sitting around asking herself these questions. In fact, she’s designing her own gear for Eddie Bauer and literally flying herself around her hometown of Sun Valley, Idaho. Lucky for us, she took some time away from skiing in Alaska to answer a few questions I had about layering from a pro’s point of view.

As for me, I’m no expert, but I followed their directions and lived to tell the tale. Keep scrolling to see a designer, a professional, and a novice share the best tips for layering while skiing.

For too long, the base-layer space has been basic and boring, and it hasn’t fully considered the female form. Think men’s items sized down and offered in typically “girly” colors like pink. Abigail created Matek to address this disparity. Her first tip? Don’t forget fit. “When things fit you better, you stay warmer,” she says. That’s why she designed her line specifically with women’s bodies in mind.

The base layer is the most intimate part of your outfit—it’s literally touching the skin—so it needs to fit right. As Abigail astutely points out, “Undergarments in any other situation are very important, not only for how all the other layers look and how warm you are and all that but also for how you feel and confidence.”

Her next tip? Smart layers , which she thoughtfully considers when dressing for a day of skiing.“ I put a base layer on, and then if it’s not the Gerenuk, which has a turtleneck, I make sure I have [something to cover my neck]. I just came out with a dickie harness-type thing, which is essentially the same thing as a gaiter. Then I always like a sweater that’s cashmere or something knit—not a sweatshirt. When a sweatshirt gets wet, it gets very heavy and will keep you cold, and it’s not even that warm to start with.”

And don’t forget to keep the snow away from your body . “If I get cold, I’m done for the day,” she shares. “If there’s any inch for the cold air or the snow to touch, that’s terrible. Even with my two-piece set, it’s a bodysuit, so it’s basically making it a onesie because it’s a high-waist legging with a bodysuit so there’s no exposed skin.”

Not into an actual onesie? Wear the bodysuit with the leggings, and you’ll get the same coverage.

You can wear these leggings all year round.

Professional skier Lexi duPont has very succinct and easy-to-remember advice: no cotton. “The most important layering tip for skiers is more of a motto that you must never forget: Cotton kills ,” she shares over email. “Cotton is a definite no-go for winter activities or pretty much any outdoor activity. If cotton gets wet, it stays wet. If your layers get wet and stay wet, they will freeze and can have catastrophic consequences.”

So no cotton ever, but here’s what you should wear when skiing if it’s a little warmer out: “Put a cotton-free tank top or T-shirt under everything. It can be super cold in the morning or in the shade and blazing hot in the sun. Put on some sunscreen and work on that base tan while shredding in the sunshine.”

Speaking of sunscreen, don’t forget to layer your skincare as well. “The sun is intense in the springtime,” Lexi says, “and when you combine the power of the sun with altitude and its reflection off the snow, you get double the power.”

As for her go-to outfit when she hits the slopes, “Eddie Bauer’s Fineline Jacket and pants are my go-tos. I personally designed this ski outfit, and I swear by it. It is great for layering and good for every ski condition.” Oh and she also shouts out Matek for the ultimate base layer. Same, girl.

The most comfortable and capable ski jacket on the mountain, according to Eddie Bauer.

This bib will keep snow off your body if you take a tumble or two.

When it gets warm, you can wear these base layers as your only layers.

Truthfully, I don’t have much to add. Except maybe bring enough chapstick for everyone so you’re not stuck at the top of the mountain sharing with your dad like I was.

But I will tell you this: I took into account Abigail’s and Lexi’s tips, and I was way more comfortable than I thought I would be for my first time skiing in more than a decade. For two days in Jackson, I wore the Gentoo and the Dik-Dik with a Patagonia fleece and Obermeyer down jacket and pants (and Supergoop! Superscreen Daily Moisturizer , $38).

Besides being offered in my favorite color on earth, Yves Klein Blue, the Gentoo was incredibly comfortable. (It also comes in my second favorite color: black.) I felt contained and warm and like I never wanted to take it off. The full-body long johns are made from recycled nylon and have palm tree nut buttons, an eco-friendly touch from Abigail that nods to the mountain community, which will undoubtedly be affected by global warming.

The Dik-Dik is hilarious and unexpectedly stylish. It was the key part in keeping my neck and face warm as I skied down the slopes at Jackson Hole faster than I should have been doing. I can see myself wearing it on and off the slopes for many seasons to come.

My Obermeyer outerwear had one job—keep me warm and dry—and that’s exactly what it did. I was dismayed to find out my pants didn’t have pockets, but I was able to stash my phone and accessories in the jacket, which had multiple.

Keep scrolling to shop my ski outfit and some other pieces on my wish list for next year.

This onesie is named after the gentoo penguin, which looks like it’s wearing a suit. In fact, all Matek items are named after animals.  I got this jacket in a size 8, and I’m so happy I sized up so I could add, you guessed it, layers. No pockets, but roomy and comfy. I wore a size 6 long.  I wore this over my Gentoo and under my jacket.  This sweater’s merino wool will keep you warm while the Coolmax fibers wick moisture from the body.  You can never have too much heattech.  See above.  Protect your skin with sunscreen. Protect your eyes with goggles.  I just want to wear one-pieces all the time.  This Woolmark collab will keep you warm on and off the slopes.  This sweater’s slim fit makes it ideal for layering.  Life’s hard. Get a helmet. Already planned your next ski trip? Here’s what to wear on the plane .

source https://gothify1.tumblr.com/post/183942932130

[gothify1]

Layer cake. Seven-layer dip. Lasagna. There’s a lot to love about layers, something Abigail Stern, founder and designer of base-layer company Matek , knows well. “I love layering talk,” she says to me on the phone. Of course, she and I are talking about the best way to layer for skiing, not discussing how to make dip. (If you must know, the perfect seven-layer dip is actually a six-layer dip—skip the olives and don't @ me.) Having graduated from Parsons and worked at Nike on sportswear before founding her own line of technical performance intimates, Stern is something of an expert on layering for skiing, so I sought out her advice ahead of a family ski trip I was taking to Jackson, Wyoming. I first learned to ski in Switzerland when I was about 4 years old and living in Germany. At the time, I spoke fluent German and was fearless. These days? I can utter a danke, but that’s about it. And don’t even try to put me near a black-diamond slope. Showing off the Matek Gentoo and Dik-Dik before my first morning of skiing. What do you even wear skiing these days? I wondered. Puffer bike shorts? Obviously not. Space blanket leggings that convert the body's energy into heat? Also no, but somebody should get on that. One thing I know for sure? My other expert source, professional skier Lexi duPont , isn’t sitting around asking herself these questions. In fact, she’s designing her own gear for Eddie Bauer and literally flying herself around her hometown of Sun Valley, Idaho. Lucky for us, she took some time away from skiing in Alaska to answer a few questions I had about layering from a pro's point of view. As for me, I’m no expert, but I followed their directions and lived to tell the tale. Keep scrolling to see a designer, a professional, and a novice share the best tips for layering while skiing. For too long, the base-layer space has been basic and boring, and it hasn't fully considered the female form. Think men's items sized down and offered in typically "girly" colors like pink. Abigail created Matek to address this disparity. Her first tip? Don’t forget fit. “When things fit you better, you stay warmer,” she says. That’s why she designed her line specifically with women’s bodies in mind. The base layer is the most intimate part of your outfit—it’s literally touching the skin—so it needs to fit right. As Abigail astutely points out, “Undergarments in any other situation are very important, not only for how all the other layers look and how warm you are and all that but also for how you feel and confidence.” Her next tip? Smart layers , which she thoughtfully considers when dressing for a day of skiing.“ I put a base layer on, and then if it’s not the Gerenuk, which has a turtleneck, I make sure I have [something to cover my neck]. I just came out with a dickie harness-type thing, which is essentially the same thing as a gaiter. Then I always like a sweater that’s cashmere or something knit—not a sweatshirt. When a sweatshirt gets wet, it gets very heavy and will keep you cold, and it’s not even that warm to start with.” And don’t forget to keep the snow away from your body . “If I get cold, I’m done for the day,” she shares. “If there's any inch for the cold air or the snow to touch, that’s terrible. Even with my two-piece set, it’s a bodysuit, so it’s basically making it a onesie because it’s a high-waist legging with a bodysuit so there’s no exposed skin.” Not into an actual onesie? Wear the bodysuit with the leggings, and you'll get the same coverage. You can wear these leggings all year round. Professional skier Lexi duPont has very succinct and easy-to-remember advice: no cotton. “The most important layering tip for skiers is more of a motto that you must never forget: Cotton kills ,” she shares over email. “Cotton is a definite no-go for winter activities or pretty much any outdoor activity. If cotton gets wet, it stays wet. If your layers get wet and stay wet, they will freeze and can have catastrophic consequences.” So no cotton ever, but here’s what you should wear when skiing if it’s a little warmer out: “Put a cotton-free tank top or T-shirt under everything. It can be super cold in the morning or in the shade and blazing hot in the sun. Put on some sunscreen and work on that base tan while shredding in the sunshine.” Speaking of sunscreen, don’t forget to layer your skincare as well. “The sun is intense in the springtime,” Lexi says, “and when you combine the power of the sun with altitude and its reflection off the snow, you get double the power.” As for her go-to outfit when she hits the slopes, “Eddie Bauer’s Fineline Jacket and pants are my go-tos. I personally designed this ski outfit, and I swear by it. It is great for layering and good for every ski condition.” Oh and she also shouts out Matek for the ultimate base layer. Same, girl. The most comfortable and capable ski jacket on the mountain, according to Eddie Bauer. This bib will keep snow off your body if you take a tumble or two. When it gets warm, you can wear these base layers as your only layers. Truthfully, I don't have much to add. Except maybe bring enough chapstick for everyone so you're not stuck at the top of the mountain sharing with your dad like I was. But I will tell you this: I took into account Abigail's and Lexi's tips, and I was way more comfortable than I thought I would be for my first time skiing in more than a decade. For two days in Jackson, I wore the Gentoo and the Dik-Dik with a Patagonia fleece and Obermeyer down jacket and pants (and Supergoop! Superscreen Daily Moisturizer , $38). Besides being offered in my favorite color on earth, Yves Klein Blue, the Gentoo was incredibly comfortable. (It also comes in my second favorite color: black.) I felt contained and warm and like I never wanted to take it off. The full-body long johns are made from recycled nylon and have palm tree nut buttons, an eco-friendly touch from Abigail that nods to the mountain community, which will undoubtedly be affected by global warming. The Dik-Dik is hilarious and unexpectedly stylish. It was the key part in keeping my neck and face warm as I skied down the slopes at Jackson Hole faster than I should have been doing. I can see myself wearing it on and off the slopes for many seasons to come. My Obermeyer outerwear had one job—keep me warm and dry—and that's exactly what it did. I was dismayed to find out my pants didn't have pockets, but I was able to stash my phone and accessories in the jacket, which had multiple. Keep scrolling to shop my ski outfit and some other pieces on my wish list for next year. This onesie is named after the gentoo penguin, which looks like it's wearing a suit. In fact, all Matek items are named after animals.  I got this jacket in a size 8, and I'm so happy I sized up so I could add, you guessed it, layers. No pockets, but roomy and comfy. I wore a size 6 long.  I wore this over my Gentoo and under my jacket.  This sweater's merino wool will keep you warm while the Coolmax fibers wick moisture from the body.  You can never have too much heattech.  See above.  Protect your skin with sunscreen. Protect your eyes with goggles.  I just want to wear one-pieces all the time.  This Woolmark collab will keep you warm on and off the slopes.  This sweater's slim fit makes it ideal for layering.  Life's hard. Get a helmet. Already planned your next ski trip? Here's what to wear on the plane .