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Price: (as of – Details) Top Brand Product Dimensions : 15 x 12 x 2.8 cm; 300 g Date First Available : 30 November 2022 Manufacturer : Paras Textiles, Paras Textiles,Tiruppur,7667277497 ASIN : B0BNN4P8FT Item model number : RB-BS-Winter-03-Pewh AOP(030) Country of Origin : India Department : Unisex Baby Manufacturer : Paras Textiles, Paras…
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Burning in the winter wind
changbin x reader. (fake) enemies to lovers. hurt/comfort but it’s a light fluffy read!! college!au. lowkey romcom vibes (i tried 😭) wc: 4.4k)
summary : Sustaining an ankle injury during a ski retreat isn't fun. Especially when Seo Changbin volunteers to stay back to tend to you- the one man you can never get a read on.
a.n: sahar finally writing a fic that doesn’t take an emotional turn… we cheered!!!!!!!!!!!!! my 3rd fic for the winter falls collab with my writer :,) if u haven’t checked out xi’s fics yet what are u waiting for!!!!! please enjoy reading, i hope you’ll like this one too <3 i love you muah
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“Are you okay?”
It is quite difficult to roll your eyes when your face is pressed against the snow, you’ve found, so much so you're sure you’re breathing in dainty snowflakes rather than the intended oxygen.
A dull pain emanates from your right ankle, the very one you just twisted while attempting to ski down a sled, making you plummet head-first into the hard ground. Despite how soft snow looks as it blankets the earth in a pristine white, it is quite incapable of cradling your fall. Instead, its snowflakes seem to liquefy, filtrating through your clothes and making a biting cold cascade down your spine.
Clearly, you are far from okay; hence, your eyes roll in a silent protest at the stranger’s questioning, though they cannot see you. If you further bury your head in the snow and do not move, would they think you are a collective hallucination and spare you the embarrassment of helping you?
“Um, should we call an ambulance?”
Clearly not.
“I'm peachy!” you throw a thumbs-up in the air, not bothering to lift your face off of the ground, you’re sure that by now the blank canvas beneath you has reluctantly molded itself to the contours of your face.
Much prettier than a snowman, you’d personally argue.
“Are you sure?” the tentative voice quips up again and you suddenly feel bad for ignoring this passerby, now stuck comforting an odd person whose limbs are not adequately crafted for skiing.
“Yeah,” you finally turn around, realizing that the pain in your ankle will not disappear, even if you choose to ignore it. “Just resting, on the snow. The view is nice from here, you know.”
The stranger backs away subtly at your words, and you chuckle inwardly.
“I got it.” Someone else speaks from your left and their voice carries a familiarity that drapes an uncomfortable weight atop your lungs. You pivot your head incredibly slowly, locking eyes with none other than Changbin.
You scoff outwardly.
“Need help?” he asks, hovering above you like a shadow.
Changbin was once your partner in a lab chemistry project, he is also the one person you now avoid most in college.
So, you do what any sensible person would in your place— you turn away, once again pressing your face into the comforting oblivion of the snow.
“I… can still see you.” His words linger, hesitating in the crisp winter wind, and you respond with a (now more effortless) roll of your eyes.
“I know.”
“Then, what are you doing?”
“If I pretend you are not here long enough, will you finally tire and leave me alone?”
“No.”
“Fine,” you huff, turning back once more. You summon the resolve to finally push your torso up from the pits of your embarrassment, before glancing down at your ankle, only to find that it has doubled in size. An angry scream bubbles up in your throat, but you will yourself to tame the fire within— if you think slightly more about your situation, you’d burst into tears right here and then.
“That needs to be treated,” Changbin states simply, his eyes also locked on your injury. You shut your eyes closed, forcing a deep breath to travel through your lungs. The oxygen you just inhaled seems only to fuel your anger more.
“I actually think it’s fine,” you put on the brightest smile on your face, yet your eyes refuse to follow the movement of your lips, making you look like a catatonic doll. You hope that’s enough to make Changbin go away.
“Who are you lying to?” he cocks an eyebrow at you.
You’re wrong. Again.
His self-assured tone further aggravates you, so you will yourself to stand up, wincing as soon as your right foot touches the floor. You bite your lip hard enough to draw out blood, the metallic taste of it coating your tongue uncomfortably.
“See, I can stand!” you say cheerfully and he crosses his arms before his chest, clearly unimpressed. “Try walking.”
“I actually wanna stay here.”
“Still as stubborn, I see,” he sighs, before bending his knees slightly. Next thing you know, you’re scooped up in his arms, your hands wrapping around his neck instantly.
“What are you doing?” you ask incredulously, eyes darting furiously over his face.
“Carrying you to the infirmary.”
“I can see that,” you say between your teeth. “I said I'm fine.”
“You clearly aren’t.”
“What are you? an ankle expert?”
“When your parents own the ski resort you kind of become one,” his eyes meet yours once, still as emotionless as they’ve always been when they gaze at you.
“Do your parents own this?” you clear your throat, surprise overtaking your tone.
“Yeah.”
“Can you tell them to upgrade my room to a suit, then?” you bat your eyelashes at him, your smile as sweet as saccharin.
“You literally buried your head in the snow two minutes ago because you wanted me gone.”
“Exactly,” you nod vigorously, “that was two minutes ago, I am a changed person now.”
“Yeah?” he smirks slightly, the corners of his mouth almost tugging upwards. “What changed?”
You shrug as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I didn't know your parents owned the resort.”
☃︎⋆꙳•❅
“It's not broken, thankfully, just sprained. You need to ice it, and not put any pressure on it. Keep your leg elevated at all times, and avoid walking at all costs.” Maria’s voice reaches your ears in waves, the pain in your ankle making it harder to grasp what she’s instructing you to do. Still, you easily understand that all your winter break plans are now officially ruined.
“But I wanna ski,” you pout at the fifty-something nurse who smiles sympathetically at you, handing you a cooling balm.
“You shouldn’t have fallen then.” Changbin deadpans before she can reply and your right eye squints in annoyance. Maria catches it and winks at you.
“You shouldn’t have fallen then,” you mimic, voice high-pitched. He simply shakes his head, a ghost of a smile appearing for a second on his lips, before disappearing promptly.
“Thank you, Maria,” he bows slightly, his voice sounding kinder when it speaks to everyone but you.
“Welcome, baby,” she squishes his cheeks before patting them gently, and you stifle a giggle at the blush sprouting on his face.
Maria leaves the room, stating that she has another patient to check up on. Your eyes remain downcast, glaring at your ankle as if it’ll scare your body back to health.
“You'll burn a hole into your skin at this rate,” he comments, his hand suddenly appearing in your line of view. You sigh in defeat before reaching for his hand, intertwining fingers as he aids you in rising. His arm becomes a secure anchor around your waist as he guides you toward the elevator. There, he inputs a code on a small panel before pressing button 44.
“That's not where my chamber’s at.”
“I know, I had them move your stuff to the penthouse,” he explains simply as your heart skips a traitorous beat.
“Actually? I was just kidding; I don't want an upgraded room.”
“I wanted to,” his eyes locked on yours, a myriad of stars seemingly swimming in his pupils. “It has easier access for you since it opens up directly in the room.”
“I'll pay you back. How much is the difference?”
He leans in, whispering a six-figure number in your ear and you feel your knees buckle underneath you.
“That much?” your face pales and he nods. “You still want to pay me back?”
A nervous chuckle leaves you as you lock eyes with the camera in the elevator, “thank you Mrs. Seo for the gift,” you bow down to the best of your capacity. “Thank you, Mr. Seo.”
The penthouse is much more spacious than your previous room, vast windows framing breathtaking vistas of pristine mountains. The sound of a crackling fireplace tames the fire within you, morphing it into a harmless ember rather than scorching flames, soothing your soul. A chandelier right above the bed casts a warm glow on the room, that softens your heart and makes you less resentful towards the snow.
“Here,” he sits you down on the edge of the bed, before heading to the mini-fridge across from the room. He takes out a packet of ice before promptly kneeling in front of you.
“It'll be a little cold,” he reassures before placing the ice on your wound. the sarcastic retort you had withers at the tip of your tongue, like a candle flame blown away by a gentle breeze; because Changbin is being gentle to you right now. his eyebrows scrunching as he makes sure not to hurt you even more, his fingers encircling just above your ankle to hold you in place. Clad in his black hoodie and joggers, the tenderness of his touch is an echo of softness from days long past.
“Thank you,” you whisper, hoping your voice would get lost in the crinkling of the wood. It doesn’t, as Changbin looks up at you, pausing his movements. “For helping me,” you add, “you didn’t have to do it.”
“It's okay. You’re not a stranger, so…” he trails off, as a buried bitterness floods your throat, akin to downing a shot of acid. You withdraw your ankle from his hold, taking the ice packet from him.
“You can go, I got it,” you smile, yet your eyes flee away from him, refusing to catch his gaze, refusing to peer into that same void that once lured you in.
“Fine. I'll come check on you later.”
As Changbin swiftly exits the penthouse, you sink into the mattress, hands pressed against your forehead, squeezing tight. to Seo Changbin, you were not a stranger. To you, he might have been everything, once.
☃︎⋆꙳•❅
You first met Changbin on the stage of your nationwide rap contest, held within the confines of your campus.
You did not know he was, but you were instantly captivated by his incendiary stage presence, and so was everyone around you, gleaming eyes turned unanimously toward him, the air ablaze with loud cheers erupting like a bubbling volcano. The question at the tip of your tongue was a natural one— “Who the fuck is this gorgeous man?”
It was as though he had sensed your inquiry, because soon after he concluded his rap with a boastful line— “They call me,” a pause, his eyes meeting yours, “Seo Changbin,” he finished, a subtle smirk painted on his lips, as if he knew that his name would become a golden trademark, one that the music world would remember for generations to come.
His gaze lingered on you, but you did not shy away from it, you’ve never been one to run away from the things you want. Instead, you smiled at him, a toothy grin that left your cheeks slightly aching afterward.
He did not return the gesture fully, but the corners of his lips did tug upwards, as he dipped his head slightly forward in thanks.
Cute.
You stayed back long enough to witness Changbin accept his well-deserved first place award, clad in his gray joggers, a snug black tank top, and atop it a deconstructed hoodie boasting enticing holes on the side, giving you a generous view of his sculpted muscles. His silver chains glimmered under the resounding flashes, and you felt a surge of pride at this stranger basking in the spotlight.
Your smile only grew wider as Chan and Jisung ran to him, encircling him in his arms and shaking him with palpable happiness. Thunderous cheers erupted, a chorus of voices chanting 'Seo Changbin' at the top of their lungs.
His name will stay with you long after that.
“So, is he single?” you inquired casually a few days later in the university cafeteria, three cups of iced americano placed before you, Chan’s extra sweetened. The latter looked up from his phone, eyes slightly widening, before leaning in.
“You like Changbin?” he asked incredulously and you squint your eyes, moving even closer to him.
“Why? Shouldn’t I?”
“I'm just surprised because you’ve never liked any of the guys I introduced you to.”
“Because they’re all douchebags who can’t keep up with me,” you declared, tossing your hair over your shoulder as Chan smiled amusedly.
“Hey! He introduced me to you,” Jisung chimed in from your left and you rolled your eyes, patting his shoulder reassuringly. “We’re better off as friends, Ji.”
That was true, your first, and last date with Jisung, ended up with you ordering sushi and laughing at your Tinder matches at an empty parking lot. He's been one of your closest friends ever since.
“Are we?” Jisung made obnoxious kissing noises and you faked a gag, pinching his arm. Han retaliated by yelling so loudly the entirety of the cafeteria turned to look at you. Chan attempted to cover his face with his palm, a desolated look painted on his features.
“Anyways,” Jisung cleared his throat once he settled again, “he is single. But he’s not looking for anything right now.”
“Maybe he just hasn’t looked at me yet.”
Fate seemed to be on your side because Changbin did look at you after that. Your professor Kim, an unwitting cupid, paired you with him for your chemistry project, and for the following month, you found yourself meeting Changbin every day in the college laboratory, to work on the synthesis and characterization of aspirin.
Changbin was different from anyone you’ve ever taken a liking to. He did not stir violent butterflies in your stomach, nor made your palms sweat endlessly from nerves. Instead, he infused a peculiar serenity within you, enough to make you eagerly count down the minutes until your next meeting.
Contrary to the fiery persona he unleashed on stage, Changbin exuded a calming aura that held you captive each time he drew near. It was impossible to divert your gaze from him, especially when his loose curls cascaded perfectly over his dark brown eyes, ones framed by thick-rimmed black glasses. His scent, a captivating blend of pinewood and spices, lingered like a second skin on your body, trailing after him and enveloping you in its embrace, long after he was gone.
He felt like a winter wind brushing against your skin—strong enough to be felt, yet cool enough to be craved by each one of your senses.
You sensed his gaze upon you as well, felt the subtle brush of his hand against your spine when he moved around you, unnecessary yet deliberate. How he brought you hot chocolate every time you met up to warm up your icy fingers. He was sweet and caring; in a way you’d only notice if you paid attention to the things said silently.
Yet, he remained an enigma—warm on certain days, cold on others. It seemed as if he restrained himself from growing comfortable in your presence, as if you were a bad weed that’d spread through his roots if he dared approach you. Or maybe that was how he viewed himself— a delicate shell with a void inside, guarding itself against any perceived threat.
Who was Changbin, truly? What did he like and dislike? Why did he withhold his smiles, stifle his laughter, and avert his eyes after just a fleeting glance at you? Why did he draw near only to retreat each time you attempted to get close? The questions swirled in your mind, creating a tapestry of curiosity that begged to be unraveled by his hands.
“Wanna come to karaoke with me and hang out tonight?” Chan asked a week after the end of your chemistry project. You hummed non-convincingly, nose buried in your newly purchased book.
“Changbin might come too,” he sang-sung and you quickly perked up, much more interested in his plans now. He snorted at your reaction, and in response, you playfully flashed him your prettiest middle finger.
Chan's disbelief was right though. It was unusual of you to be so expectant of someone’s presence, for your gaze to flee to the door every two seconds awaiting their entrance.
Despite your high hopes, Changbin did not come that night, and as much as you tried to have fun, a sense of disappointment tainted your mood. That, and the realization that he wasn't a mere crush, but something much more to you. The man you couldn’t get a read on was already coursing through your veins when you thought he had only stopped at the surface of your skin.
Muttering a quick excuse about needing some fresh air, you left the karaoke booth, exhaling heavily, the warmth of your breath translating into silver gusts of air in the chilly night. As you descended the stairs, however, your ankle twisted on the slippery ice, and you found yourself falling, bottom-first, onto the unforgiving concrete.
An ugly sob caught in your throat as hot tears streaked down your cheeks, your palm now scraped and bloody from the impact of the fall, in a useless attempt to soften the blow.
“Let me see,” someone crouched in front of you, and you gasped softly as your eyes met Changbin's concerned gaze.
“Oh god, this is so embarrassing,” you admitted, clasping your eyes shut as he gently held your injured hand in his own, blowing air into the open cuts to soothe their burn.
“I didn't see anything,” he reassured, his tone overly sweet, and you squint your eyes at his obvious lies. “Definitely did not see you trip over nothing,” he added, a teasing smirk drawn on his lips.
“Hey!” you punched his arm playfully and he laughed, full-blown high-pitched giggles you did not think Changbin, out of everybody you knew, would be able to conjure. His eyes were squinted close, his apple cheeks raising higher as he laughed some more, and you felt an electrifying warmth flowing through your being. Suddenly, you were burning in the winter wind.
Suddenly, you wanted to confess.
“Did you just get possessed by a five-year-old girl?” you teased as his laughter quieted down, the smile refusing to leave his face, yet. His eyes softened as they found yours, a simple hum leaving his lips in reply. He applied some pressure on your ankle, checking if it is swollen, but that was the last thing you cared about. The sight of Changbin smiling so freely still running through your mind, again and again. You replayed it enough times since to make sure it was safely guarded in your memory, that the long march of time may not wear it down, graining its delicate edges.
“You should smile more,” you said softly and he looked up at you, a twinkle of gratitude gleaming in his eyes.
“Your ankle is fine. Stay here, okay? I have a first aid kit in my car.” He didn’t wait for you to reply as he jogged up to his vehicle, and you sighed, heart clenching at how affected you were by his simple touches.
“It will sting a little,” he spoke gently once he returned, before dabbing up your cut slightly with an alcohol-drenched pad. You hissed softly and he frowned, pausing in his tracks. “Okay?”
“Mm,” you nodded, a small smile playing on your lips, “Okay.”
He continued cleaning your cuts, before applying a cooling cream on it and wrapping it in a clean gauze. He hesitated for a few seconds and your breath hitched as he leaned forward, placing the faintest kiss on your palm.
“Healing kiss,” he said shyly, a blush blooming on his face and you giggled, bringing his hand to rest upon your cheek.
“I like you, Changbin,” you said truthfully, simply, even as your heart thudded in your chest. “Tell me, should I stop? I don't want to hurt myself.”
“I…” he began, his words trailing off, interrupted by Chan walking out of the karaoke booth.
“What happened? Are you okay?” he asked, worry clearly dripping from his tone and you cursed inwardly. You loved Chan but you’ve never been more annoyed to see him. Your eyes flee tentatively to Changbin as Chan takes your hand in his, inspecting it.
“Let's go inside, it’s freezing here,” Chan pulled you up and you nodded, as Changbin followed suit, before he stopped you by the door, his hand on your arm. “Come over tomorrow, please? We can talk then.”
“Sure,” you smiled and he nodded, swiping his thumb soothingly along your wrist. “Thank you,” he whispered, before walking inside.
☃︎⋆꙳•❅
The landline ringing snaps you away from that long-buried memory, as it disappears before your eyes like morning mist. You rub your forehead tiredly before answering.
“Hello?”
“Hello, I would like to inform you that we'll be coming up with food service shortly,” the sweet receptionist announces in a cheery tone, and you furrow your brow.
“I did not order anything, though.”
“It is on the house. Enjoy your food!” she explains gleefully before hanging up.
On the house meaning it is Seo Changbin's treat. You couldn't help but scoff at the array of food presented before you minutes later, including that damned hot chocolate he always used to bring you, complete with marshmallows on top and colorful sprinkles because why settle for plain when you could have rainbows in your drink.
“He remembers,” ou whisper to yourself before sighing. What was the point of him remembering now? Every bit of hope you had was dismantled two months ago, akin to a hopeful dandelion blown away by the bitter wind.
You bite your lip, contemplating for a few seconds before finally dialing Changbin’s number.
“The food will get cold. Come quickly. I won't wait for you,” you mumble before hanging up and tossing your phone away.
A few minutes later, Changbin enters your room, his cologne still following him like a second shadow. You avoid his eyes as you dig into the seafood pasta, the one he ordered for you.
“Good?” he asks, and you glance at him from the corner of your eye. "Yeah, good."
“Are you okay?” he inquires, taking a bite of the pepperoni pizza.
You knew he was asking about your ankle, and yet, in this moment, sitting on the floor of the penthouse Changbin upgraded for you, eating the food he bought after tending to your injury, you suddenly no longer cared about the state of your body. Instead, an exasperation built up in your throat, directed towards the man who had left you hanging many nights ago.
“You confuse me,” you say honestly, putting down your fork and he frowns. “I confuse you?” he repeats incredulously.
“Yes. You always confuse me and I hate it.” Sudden tears threaten to well in your eyes and you groan, burying your face in a pillow to hide it.
“I can't believe you are saying this,” he whispers, pushing away his plate and you scowl, lowering your silky shield.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You never came, y/n,” His voice, draped in heavy emotion, catches you off guard like a sudden storm in the calm of the night. “I waited and waited for you and you never came.”
“I came,” you say quietly, the hurt suddenly feeling fresh within the confines of your heart. “At the wrong time, maybe the right one, I don't know. But I came.”
“What?”
“I came to your dorm only to see you kissing a girl’s cheek and hugging her by your door. You told her you missed her and to come later once you sorted something out. Was I… What? supposed to enter and sit there to hear you reject me?” You say quickly, finally releasing the words that had long haunted you.
An incredulous laugh escapes his lips as he runs a hand through his hair, slightly pulling at its edges. “My god, that was my sister.”
“What?”
“She came over unannounced that morning. I actually told her she can't stay the night because I had someone important coming over. That someone being you,” he explains and you feel hot embarrassment flood your being, then relief. For what, exactly? Wasn’t it too late?
“How was I supposed to know?” you ask defensively and his eyes widen as he comes closer to you.
“You could’ve asked me!”
“I was embarrassed because I put my heart bare to you. I told you I liked you when I wasn't even sure you liked me back.”
“Of course, I liked you back.” His voice softens as if it were a truth known to everyone but yourself.
“Then why were you so… distant.”
“Because you scared me, you came into my life unannounced and everything changed around me,” he pauses, a shaky breath escaping him. “Because I wasn’t looking for anything but it turns out I just didn’t know to look for you yet.”
You giggle against your will at his words, shaking your head slightly. “That's exactly what I told Chan when I asked if you were single.”
“See, soulmates,” he grins, satisfied, and you feel tingles pulsate through your entire being at his words.
“Slow down Mr. Seo. We are not even dating yet.”
“Yet? So, is there still a chance?”
“I…” your phone rings and you let out a loud groan as you peek at who's calling— Chan.
“You have the actual worst timing ever dude,” Changbin nearly screams into the phone and you can clearly hear Chan’s confused voice asking “Changbin? Where is yn?”
Changbin hangs up on him without answering, before putting your phone on silent. Then his, for good measure.
“It's like he’s my archnemesis or something,” Changbin sighs and you laugh, amused by his exasperation.
“So,” he clears his throat, a bit shyly, “can we start again? Properly?”
“I don't know… I need to see if something’s still there…” you muse and he cocks an eyebrow at you, leaning even closer.
“And how will you do that?”
You throw your hands around his neck, before resting your cheek on the slate of his shoulders. He remains still for a few heartbeats, only to tighten his hold on you, his lips delicately grazing the exposed canvas of your neck.
“I knew it, you smell nice, and you are really warm,” you sigh contently, closing your eyes as a soothing peace wash over you, all the worries you harbored dissipating at his warmth.
“You smell really nice too,” he whispers and a grin lights up your face.
“I can hear you smiling,” you point out, leaning away slightly to look at him.
“I’m happy.”
“That's cute.”
“You’re cuter,” he says, nuzzling your nose with his own. “Your total for the food is 160 dollars by the way.”
“Can I pay back with my kisses?” you smile cheekily, bringing your lips a hair breadth away from his.
He’s breathless as he finally presses his mouth on yours, “Please do.”
#skz x reader#stray kids x reader#stray kids fanfic#stray kids imagine#stray kids imagines#skz imagines#skz scenarios#stray kids scenarios#stray kids angst#stray kids fluff#skz angst#skz fluff#skz au#skz fanfic#skz reactions#stray kids fanfiction#changbin x reader#changbin fluff#changbin imagines
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Double A Misfit
Lucien x Reader Fluff
Summary: It's a snowy day in Velaris, yet you can only think about the Autumn Court male who burned a fire in your blood.
Warnings: mutual pining (can someone tell me if I'm using this term correctly idek)
A/N: This is my first ever ACOTAR piece. I'm a bit nervous about this because I knew I wanted to write, but there was nothing in my brain really.... yeah. Also, I know this is way past the holidays, but it's snowing here so.
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•--•
Gentle. The fall of the snow outside of your window was gentle. The snowflakes laid soft kisses on the ground, crowding together, a family reborn into foreign membranes. It was beautiful, a symbol of the changing seasons, uniquely precious to Velaris.
You watched alone, a fire burning in the hearth in front of you. Fire licked into the open air, searching for something to embrace its heat more closely. Though the beauty of the cold drew you in, your heart seemed to cry the same way that the fire did. Warm bodies felt cold when lonely, as yours did.
It struck you then, the same way your yearning did every winter. An intense want for the same thing your friends had. You had considered that you were simply the problem, that you never could stick anywhere. Even Amren, cold and caved in when she wasn't content, seemed to inhale the same love that everyone else did, breathing it back out into the group.
Yet, somehow, you never stuck the same.
Maybe that's exactly why you sat here, watching the snow, sympathizing with the fire, while a pile of presents sat on your table. Wrapped with a delicate hand, a bow placed on top of each, and his name written in cursive on a tiny sticker.
He left tomorrow for the Spring Court. He left tomorrow, for Tamlin, that kindness in his heart unwavering. He showed that same, gentle kindness towards you, a clone to the fire that reached out it's fingers. When his hands touched yours, a warmth spread, yet a soft chill soothed deeper than surface level.
Lucien was a dream. You had decided that the moment you met him. The hard lines of his face, cut from cinnamon and bark, yet structured through the very sun which tanned his skin. The plains of his face, sharp, but also smooth like a baby blanket. His eyes, soft in every nature, sucked you in, leaving you breathless.
Gods, everything about him was made with a precision, one that was built to make you fall to your knees.
The knock at your door was enough to startle you to your feet, brushing off the size-too-big brown sweater you wore, sleeves threatening to swallow your hands with every movement. Your blush seemed to glow brighter, ashamed at being caught in a daydream.
Socks slipping as you started for the door, you combed a hand through your hair. It wasn't usual that you were greeted so late at night.
Opening the door, a stinging cold burned at your eyes, brushing past your legs with the irritation of being denied entrance. If you didn't know any better, you would've thought the wind was trying to sweep your visitor inside as well. "Trying" ended up being a fleeing word, the lanky body standing in front of you allowing himself in before the cold could nip at your limbs any longer.
You sent out a 'thank you' to the wind, a howl against your window its only response.
"Lucien," you breathed, shocked at his sudden appearance.
He smiled at you, warming the room with the shine of his teeth. The light from the fireplace cast an orange hue onto his honeyed skin, your heart skipping a beat, every feature hightlighted by the cast shadows. The straight edge of his nose, the way his lips spread over his-
"I was thinking about you," he remarked, unlacing his boots with a calm fluidity, "I wanted to stop by before I left tomorrow. Didn't need you missing all my greatness."
You rolled your eyes, hearing the obvious smirk in his tone, even with his head down.
You stepped back to watch him, unlacing the other boot and kicking it off, standing themselves at attention on your door mat. He shrugged off his coat, revealing a green turtleneck which hugged his arms, alluding to the lean yet broad nature of his chest, tucked into black dress pants. His hair, a glowing shade of red, still had snowflakes in it.
He ran his hand through the front part of that sea of autumn, shaking off some of those flakes. You watched, lips pressed together, keeping composure as he took a few steps before plopping himself down on your couch.
It never failed to shake you, the way he was so comfortable in your place of rest. It spread a heat through you all the same, like the flames were reaching for your heart at his mere existence.
Out of everyone, he had always shown interest in your space.
In you.
You walked over, not noting the way his eyes watched you intently, sitting beside him. His one legs was stretched out across the cushions, forcing you to lift it up, scooting underneath and allowing it to rest across your lap. You never touched people much, though it was not foreign to be physically connected to Lucien.
It was a problem, as it was also a blessing.
"Usually you're happy to see me," he teased.
You rolled your eyes, again, "I am happy to see you, that doesn't mean you aren't obnoxious."
He relaxed a bit, arms spreading over the back of the couch, "There's that little spark."
A silence took over the room. It was familiar, recognizable. Except, this time, it snuck into each breath a little differently, like a hint of something else existed within that silence. Your eyes looked anywhere but his, but his laid on you, drinking in every ounce he could get.
Your fingers twitched, reminding you of the icebreaker that existed right under your nose. You snatched up the pile of presents, setting it on the leg that was laid out on your lap.
"I have presents for you. I meant to find you before you left for Spring, but I... lost track of time."
Lucien breathed in deeply, starting at the three boxes. For him. He moved his leg off your lap, at attention, sitting in a stance that was more serious than the previous. Summoning those he had left at his house in self-consciousness, presents with a shiny yellow and auburn paper sat in his own lap. Your name written on every one.
Surprise played on your features, not expecting gifts from him. You should have guessed in the end, knowing Lucien and his heart. He always looked out for you. He was one of your kind; a stray without a definite home. A wanderer that made a name for himself, as well as a family.
"You first," you whispered, handing him the top present.
Lucien held it, lithe fingers finding purchase in the folds of the present, ripping the soft silver paper, revealing a small box. Lifting the lid, there sat a broach, a deep brown with hues of orange, reminiscent of his own mother's eyes. You knew, having been lucky enough to see the woman that shared such a love for Lucien as you did. Yet, the love you gave was on another level deeper than hers. Hidden and deep-seated, thriving just to be near him, begging your hands to grab him, have him in any ways tangible.
"It's beautiful," he breathed, looking up at you, russet eye reaching out like a siren call.
"There's more," you nudged the next one towards him, blushing at the close attention he paid to every movement.
Setting aside the box that held the broach, he resumed, tearing into the present, met with another plain box. He took it apart, mechanical eye whirring with excitement as his human one flashed excitement.
"A cloak. Gods, how did you know this was the one I wanted?" he asked, smiling wide, "I just saw this in the shop the other day."
You smiled, body curling in on itself at his joy. You pushed the last one to him, feeling bad for interrupting his joy, but shyness crept in at his reactions.
Behind the layer of wrapped paper was a large shoebox, thick cardboard, without detail. He opened the lid, pushing aside the paper that surrounded what was hiding beneath. Boots. A pair identical to the ones he had complained about having to throw away months prior. They were specially designed in the Spring Court, which pushed you to travel and meet with the maker. It took a while before you had heard news of success from the man, but it came nevertheless.
You remembered his face when he realized he would have to get a new pair. You swore at that moment you had never seen a look more devastating. A vow you made yourself; you would never allow him to look that way as long as you could help it. So you left the next day, using diplomacy as your excuse.
Lucien's eyes flicked to yourself, full and beautiful. His soft, burnt umber eyelashes framing them in such a damning beauty you knew for him to die, that beauty could never exist again. Glossy, he blinked away moisture that filled the orbs beneath.
"Where did you get these?" he asked, exasperated.
You blushed. "I had them replicated. The shoemaker was flattered that they had been so well-loved."
He released a shaky breath, striking your heart all the same.
"How do you expect me to live up to these?" he asked, a shy grin taking over his face, "My gifts seem pathetic."
You shook your head, chin low, "I doubt anything you give me could seem 'pathetic.'"
His eyes captured yours again, taken from the sight of his boots. You felt important when he looked at you, like a flower in a glass case, protected and yet shining through.
He set down his boots, as if they no longer mattered, attention fixed as he placed a present in your lap. Your hands tore through, savoring the intricate design and the time placed into wrapping these. Had he thought of you the whole time, like you did while wrapping his?
Except, you had thought of him the whole time you spent wrapping everyone's gifts. You never seemed to stop thinking about him.
Similar to the one that had held his cloak, you unboxed the one in your lap, peeling back paper to see a soft cream sweater. But, holding it up, you gaze at the design. A running fox, knit in the top right of it, directly above your breast, the back holding a similar design, yet the creature sitting upright. The soft texture almost made you angry, knowing it wouldn't be appropriate to wear it every day.
"Lucien."
He hummed in response, questioning your call of his name.
"It's so beautiful," you looked up at him, love seeping from your pores.
His whole face went a shade deeper, pointy ears pulling back. He had no words, handing you another. You opened it with the same grace, finding a small box, one that left you clueless as to what it could hold. You looked up at Lucien, seeing the way that he chewed on the skin inside his cheek. Lifting the lid with a small shake, the bottom half fell into your hand, gaze drawn to the necklace inside.
You couldn't have guessed how much Lucien made from Rhysand weekly, but with his frequent absence, you imagined this cut a chunk. A gold, dainty chain trailed down to what was centered; a teardrop pendant, a diamond shining in the center, refracting the dim orange light that consumed the room. Paired with it were earrings, each with a matching teardrop shape that hung off the ear. They were-
"Gorgeous."
Lucien shifted, adjusting his hands only to rub them up and down the black of his pants. "Feyre had to help me pick them out."
You smiled to yourself, catching his stare. A nervousness that you didn't catch much darkened his cheeks.
You quirked an eyebrow, "Is everything okay, Lucien?"
He avoided your eyes, taking a deep inhale, his chest expanding with the breath. Watching it fall back out of his mouth, he began to speak.
"Y/n," his throat caught the way your name came out. He tried again, "Y/n. I have been... meaning to tell you this for quite some time now. I-" he took another deep breath, looking into your eyes.
"I have loved you since the very first moment I met you. The grace of knowing you fell upon me like a sword I had no choice but to use. Everything you are, and everything you have grown to become has enchanted me so deeply I don't feel I have the capacity to hold it in much longer."
Your jaw fell slack, watching as the stars in his words, in his posture, and in his confidence fell in line, brightening the world you had known.
"I can't breathe knowing you're not mine, but I know if you requested it say so, I would try to shed that part of myself to make you happy forevermore. To separate from you after every interaction is like tearing myself away from my very own soul. I do not think I can bear it much longer; the pain of not having you. I am yours, as wholly as I am my own," he bowed his head, "Without you, I feel half of myself has been lost to whatever Gods demanded you be created. And to be with you here drives me crazy, to know that I cannot hold you in my arms and share you with myself the way my body begs. I need you, and I have grown to known this. I need you deeper than just a friendship, than just a lover. I need you, in this deep string that tugs at my heart, pulling me till I come home; till I find you."
You felt it then. You had always felt it, but it had been muddy, confusing, and had misled you so many times. That fog cleared now, your mind registering exactly what it was -- that glowing golden string, existing only to keep Lucien tied to you.
It made so much sense, cleared out your mind and filled it with every memory and dream you had associated with the male in front of you.
It must've been what launched you at him as well.
Your hands cupped the face of your mate, bringing your lips to his own. Like a mould crafted to fit your own, your mouth fit like a missing puzzle piece. Smooth, warm lips embraced your own, sharing a dance that seemed to spill a power into that bond, its glow burning brighter than the sun in which Helion commanded. Every movement was met with a hunger, one emerging from the years it took you to survive the Autumn Court in which you had met and find him in the Night Court in which you not resided. Centuries of waiting, of reaching into the darkness beyond your eyelids and finding him without his casual heat.
You pulled back, slow as you let your lips cling to each other, forgetting to resist the urge to plunge back into him as you pressed another kiss to his mouth. You lost your mind in that cavern between you, balancing on that rope, folding into each other.
He murmured against your lips, "Y/n."
You only allowed yourself enough space to separate your mouths, resting your forehead against his. Your thumb stroked the scar that cobwebbed under his left eye, capturing you in it's lure.
"Lucien. I could never deny you," you closed your eyes as you nudged your nose against his, reopening them, "I have loved you; this whole lifetime, I have loved you. Even before I knew of you, I loved what you were."
He smiled, a giddy, childish smile, caging the air in your lungs. A new vow, here and now;
Gods, you'd do anything to see him smile like that again.
•--•
#acotar x reader#acotar#acotar fluff#acotar x reader fluff#lucien x reader#lucien x reader fluff#lucien fluff#lucien vanserra#lucien vanserra x reader fluff#lucien vanserra x reader#lucien vanserra fluff#dexthtoyounglings: the archive
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Anthology Blast Prompt 5: Reverse Shaping a Friendship
for the Tales from Athendrolyn Anthology Full prompt list for the Anthology Blast Tips are appreciated! Contains: passive-aggressive arguing, misunderstandings
It was a beautiful spring day in Athendrolyn. Parks blossomed with fresh leaves and bright flowers, the streets bustled with people, and a collective sigh of relief that the long winter had finally ended. Dhosseda took in the sights as she made her way down the sidewalk, an engraved blackthorn wood cane in one hand and a bulging purse under her opposite arm. It was a lovely day all around, and what better way to spend a lovely day than with her neighborhood?
In the distance, a Mid-Kingdom Elvish style building came into view. A dignified construction of polished wood, marble columns, stained glass, and an artfully slanted roof, it would have been a cathedral in nearly any other city. In Athendrolyn, the sign over the entrance—new, but styled to match the historic architecture—announced itself to all passersby as the Waterside Community Senior Center. Dhosseda turned down the street and through the entrance garden, a rainbow of plants greeting her on the way.
The enchanted doors slid open as she approached. A quaint reception desk sat in the center of a small lobby, but Dhosseda didn’t need to bother the volunteer behind it. She turned down the same hallway as always, and looked for the floor sign with “Weekly Knitting Circle” scrawled across it in big, looping chalk letters. It was the third room on the left, as usual, with its doors wide open to anyone who cared to join.
“Good morning, Miss Oakfall,” said the pleasantly soft voice of Fiadh, a young selkie with brown hair down to her lower back. She wore her velvety, spotted, sealskin coat as if winter had never ended, though that was no surprise.
“Please, dear, I’ve said it a hundred times,” she replied, waving a hand. “Call me Dhosseda—or you can even call me Eda, if you like.”
Fiadh took her cane when she offered it and held out her arm instead. “Sorry, Miss—Dhosseda. Old habits are hard to break.”
“You’re much too young to be saying that.”
“Am I?”
“Mark my words, Fiadh: when your hair goes as gray as my beard, you’ll remember this talk and guffaw until your heart gives out.”
She laughed gently. “I’ll take your word for it.” Fiadh lead her to the nearest low seat in the knitting circle, to accommodate her dwarvish stature. She set the cane against the wall. “Just call for me if you need anything, okay?”
“Thank you, dear, it’s a pleasure to see you as always.”
“Eda, is that you?” asked Vinthia, a blindfold secured tightly over her eyes. Her bullsnake hair twisted over and over itself, each snake flicking its tongue trying to sniff out the newcomer. Her hands worked at almost the same rate, knitting needles clicking burnt orange yarn into even rows.
“It most certainly is,” Dhosseda replied, opening her purse for her own project. “I didn’t mean to be late, but it was such a lovely day, I walked instead of taking the trolley.”
“It is pleasant today, isn’t it?” Crabapple agreed from across the circle, a stout dryad—closer to a shrub, really—with long, spindly branches tipped with springtime leaves.
“Hold onto your hats, everyone,” said Pimpernel, a halfling on their other side, “Ol’ Crabby has something positive to say for once.” The circle only laughed because it was true.
Crabapple brandished their crochet hook. “Don’t you start with me, or won’t bring my homemade jelly when my fruit starts to ripen.”
“A threat, indeed!”
Dhosseda chuckled into her beard, unfolding her latest blanket project onto her lap. There was nothing she’d rather do than be here among her neighbors. She’d gotten so used to the regulars, she almost felt like they’d known each other their whole lives. Vinthia, Crabapple, and Pimpernel, of course. Then there was Oloyra, an elf older than the building but didn’t look a day over six-hundred, Xilbeth, a minotaur with needles double the size of Dhosseda’s legs, and Tokea, the satyr who used yarn made of its own fleece. Yes, she truly couldn’t have asked for a better group of friends. The only problem she’d ever had at the knitting circle was—
“Good morning, Miss Meldrish,” Fiadh said. Dhosseda snapped up.
A brilliantly purple dragonfolk entered the room in a frilly, square-neckline dress. The wide sunhat on her head had holes poked in it for her horns. She had a wicker basket over her elbow, stuffed with colorful yarn and different sized needles. Her sharp teeth flashed while she spoke with Fiadh, the picture of polite innocence. Dhosseda felt her blood pressure rise.
Meldrish squeezed between chairs into the circle. “Excuse me, darlings, I hate to interrupt.”
“Don’t kid yourself,” Pimpernel said, scooting his seat over to let her pass. “All you’ve cut short is talk about the weather.”
“It is such a lovely day, isn’t it?” Meldrish had the gall to plop her scaly behind right next to Dhosseda, her tail slipping through the gap in the chair’s back. “I took a walk to get some sun on my scales.”
“That’s what Dhosseda said!”
“Oh, is that so?” Meldrish put her basket in her lap, and coolly turned her gaze. “How lovely, Dhosseda, we all need some fresh air from time to time.”
“Absolutely,” she agreed, smiling through gritted teeth. “It’s hard to imagine a better time for it than today, wouldn’t you agree?”
“Of course, I feel the same.” Meldrish plucked a pair of needles out of her basket. “But of course, I’d never miss a meeting. Not even for an entire hoard of scrap fabric.”
“As if you need another hoard,” Oloyra teased.
Everyone laughed again, and Dhosseda pretended to join them. She picked up her own needles and yarn. She would ignore Meldrish, and focus on her project. Nothing this woman said was going to send her ranting today. Not this time.
Dhosseda assessed her next row. She’d been working on this blanket for a few months now, and it was in its final stages now. Her choice to use an alternating zig-zag pattern in forest green, bright lime, white, and gray required stopping to switch colors fairly often, but it was nothing she hadn’t done before. For this blanket in particular, all the hardship in the world was worth it. She picked up where she’d left off with her dark green yarn.
“What are you working on this week, Vinthia?” she asked.
“Now that it’s getting warmer,” she replied, “I thought I’d try a light shawl for the beach.”
“That’s a great idea! I love the color you chose, it looks excellent with your hair.”
The bullsnakes writhed in her direction. “I’m so glad you think so! I was worried it would be a bit too bold.”
“Nonsense, there’s no such thing as too bold. Especially not for you, dear, it suits you.”
She smoothed her hair back and the snakes tangled around her fingers. “Oh, enough about me. What are you working on, Eda?”
“The same blanket I brought last week, I’m finally getting to the end of it.”
“Well, just make sure not to start a new blanket before you’re done.”
Dhosseda chuckled knowingly. “Oh, believe me, I’ve thought about it. But I’m on a bit of a time crunch with this one.”
“How so?”
“I have to get it done in two months for my grandson’s graduation.” She paused, sitting up taller. “He’s on track to be at the top of his class in Thaumaturgic Engineering at Cragshield University, and I want to surprise him with this.”
“That’s wonderful!”
“I agree!” interrupted Meldrish, sticking her snout where Dhosseda certainly didn’t want it. “Congratulations to your family! One of my grandsons graduated with high honors from Cragshield last year. It’s such a rigorous school to succeed in, your grandson must be very astute indeed.”
“Thank you,” Dhosseda said, forcing the platitudes past her tongue. “And congratulations to yours as well.”
She scoffed, waving it off with her needles. “Oh, it’s old news now. He’s no engineer like yours, but he did land an office at Montagar & Powell Law this year, and we’re all very proud.”
Before Dhosseda could reply—spit a reply—Xilbeth chimed in. “My granddaughter did an internship at Montagar & Powell!”
“What a small world,” Meldrish said. “How did she like it there?”
They continued to chit-chat, but Dhosseda couldn’t hear them over her blood boiling in her ears. How dare this overgrown lizard “congratulate” her grandson, only to sweep him aside to brag about her own.How dare she try to dismiss his success by name-dropping one of the most prestigious law firms in the country!
“Eda…” Vinthia warned. Even the snakes were giving her wary looks. She huffed, but knew Vinthia was right. She should just focus on her own project, let Meldrish gloat to Xilbeth until he keeled over instead.
No such luck—Meldrish put a hand on her arm. “But where are my manners?” she chided herself, and Dhosseda almost rolled her eyes. “I meant to say that two of his clutchmates are at Cragshield as well, perhaps the three of our grandkids know each other?”
“I doubt it,” she said, before she could stop herself. “My grandson is quite studious, as I’m sure you assumed, and lately he’s been working very hard to polish up his Master’s thesis—it’s his second degree.” Dhosseda shrugged, trying to hint for her to get those obnoxious claws off. “So unless they both happen to be engineers, I don’t think they could possibly know each other.”
“Oh my, that’s impressive.” She sat back, nodding into her chest. “It does sound like he’d be too busy. Maybe they’ll meet up if he goes back for his doctorate? At least one of mine is going back for a Ph.D. in—”
“Unless it’s in engineering, I highly doubt they’ll ever see each other.”
“Ladies,” Tokea interrupted with a sigh. “Do you have to do this every time?”
“Yes, do you?” Vinthia agreed.
“Do what?” Meldrish asked, blinking around the circle. “Don’t tell me none of you ever talk about your grandchildren.”
Dhosseda felt her eye twitch. “I’d hate to cut this short, but I would like to focus on my project now. Dear.”
“It’s not a problem at all!”
Meldrish cheerfully went back to her basket and the project in her hands, knitting row after row of light blue yarn. Dhosseda almost snapped her needles in half.
“I think I might try a halter top next,” Vinthia said, overly loud. “What do you think, Eda?”
Dhosseda a calming breath. “I think that sounds lovely, darling.”
Despite her best efforts, Dhosseda spent the rest of the knitting circle fuming. Vinthia, the kind soul that she was, tried to keep her occupied in conversation, but it only went so far. Weeks upon weeks of bitterness bubbled to the surface and simmered at the top of her mind for hours. When everyone packed up to leave, Dhosseda was shocked there wasn’t steam pouring out of her ears.
She couldn’t even enjoy the walk home like she planned. She stomped down the street, striking her cane against the pavement, and sulked. Birds chirped, people watered flowers in their gardens, and Dhosseda scowled at her feet. A gorgeous spring afternoon—wasted by that foul woman’s obsession with herself!
Dhosseda reached the door to her condo complex and took the elevator down to the basement levels. She was still grumbling by the time she reached her door, not even comforted by the familiar confinement of stone walls and fairy light lamps.
“I’m back,” she announced on the way inside.
“Well, you don’t sound happy about it,” replied Turel, her husband and much calmer half.
She sighed harshly, kicking her shoes off in the foyer. “You’ll never guess why!”
“Was it Mel—”
“It was Meldrish again!”
Dhosseda stomped into the living room. Turel sat on his favorite lounge chair, short beard tucked into his chest while he fed treats to their phoenix, Nora. The fiery feathered bird perked up and cocked her head from where she perched on the arm of the chair. If Dhosseda had been in any other mood, she would have joined them quietly, but she just couldn’t wait to get the off her chest.
“I was talking to Vinthia about Reiroc’s graduation,” she ranted, “and this woman has the gall to interrupt and talk about how her grandson is a big, fancy lawyer at Montagar & Powell, and that two of his siblings are at Cragshield doing their fancy degrees—”
“Eda.”
“—and just happened to mention that they’ll be going back for doctorates when I said Reiroc was busy with his Master’s defense! Oh, and when I mentioned what a lovely day it was for a walk—”
“Eda.”
“—she told me that ‘we all could use some fresh air’ and I just know she was trying to insinuate something—”
Turel waved his arms in desperation. “Blessings and curses, Eda, slow down!”
Dhosseda broke off, huffing and puffing. Nora raised and lowered the crest on her head, chirping in alarm. Turel stroked the back of her neck.
“You’re going to make the old girl burst into flames at this rate,” he chided.
“Well, I won’t be far behind,” she replied, and slumped on the chair across from his. She set her cane against the side and put her head against her fist. “I swear on all the stone in the earth, if I have to talk to that woman one more time…”
“Why do you talk to her?”
“I don’t! She talks to me first!”
“So ignore it!” Turel hushed apologetically when Nora chirped again. “Honestly, Eda, you’ve never had a nice word to say about Meldrish, but if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you go out of your way to speak to her every week.”
“It’s not—I don’t start the conversations, but I can’t just let her have the last word.”
“Why not? What are you actually getting out of entertaining these talks?”
She didn’t know, honestly. Dhosseda hated how Meldrish clearly craved to be the center of attention. She couldn’t let anyone speak well about themselves or their family without trying to counter it with a brag of her own, something that would inevitably turn the group’s praise and ears toward her. There was an undercurrent of challenge to her every rebuke, daring someone else to steal the spotlight back. Dhosseda couldn’t stand Meldrish or her antics, but she hated to be dismissed even more. Not that their terse conversations ever made her feel any better, even on the few occasions she had “won.”
“Nothing,” she admitted, with a sigh. “My pride gets the better of me, I guess.”
Turel nodded, a smile on his face. “That’s the Eda I married, no question. But you’re going to make yourself sick with all this hate you bring home. Just try ignoring her next time.”
How? she wanted to ask. How could she possibly ignore it when her own achievements, her family’s achievements, her joy was constantly under scrutiny like that? When there was someone like Meldrish in the room, waiting to pounce on unsuspecting conversations? It took everything she had not to fly off the handle. How was she supposed to sit quietly?
Nora flew off Turel’s chair and landed on hers. She cooed, eyes pinning in interest. Dhosseda ran a hand down her long back and wings. She took a deep breath.
If she couldn’t ignore Meldrish for her own sake, then she’d do it for her husband, who deserved better than to hear her rant about this unpleasant woman every week. She’d do it for Nora, who stressed so terribly easily. If Meldrish needed to tear others down to lift herself up, that was her business. Dhosseda didn’t want any part of it—would choose not to take part in it. Besides, they were both too old for these childish games. She didn’t want to poison herself with anger, or ruin the time she spent with her neighbors by dreading a single person.
“I’ll do my best,” she agreed.
Her mind was made up. Next week, she would protect her peace.
Dhosseda “making herself sick” was supposed to be a figure of speech.
The day before the knitting circle she felt a bit groggy, but on the fateful morning of what was supposed to be her new beginning, she could barely get out of bed. As the last straggling cases of the winter flu popped up around the city, Dhosseda was, unfortunately, one of its victims. Instead of knitting, she spent that day—and several days afterward—feverish and coughing. It was bad enough that she tried to convince Turel to wax her beard clean off, but thankfully he didn’t.
He and Nora were constants at her bedside, the darlings, and Vinthia dropped by with a pot of soup. While she ate, the two of them got to talking about what she missed at the knitting circle, and Vinthia reported that, while everyone wished she could have been there, Meldrish seemed particularly unhappy. Dhosseda couldn’t help puzzling over that.
“I thought she hated me,” she remarked to Turel that night.
“It could be that you were the most fun to argue with,” he suggested. “Hold still, now.”
He rubbed his hands together and a cool blue spark jumped between his palms. A little ghostly familiar in the shape of a mouse ran down his arm. A spell burst from his fingertips, and the mouse disappeared as the welcome relief of chilly air washed over Dhosseda’s face.
“Thank you, dear,” she sighed, relaxing into her pillow. “I think the worst of it’s behind me.”
“Hope so.” He scooted under the blankets next to her. “After all, I think you’d lose your mind if you had to miss two weeks of knitting in a row.”
She laughed, but it was subdued by her unanswered questions. If all Meldrish really wanted was a good argument, couldn’t she get that from anybody? Maybe Dhosseda was the only one who fought back as fiercely, but wouldn’t that be a detriment to her need for attention? As she recovered, the more she thought it over, and the less it made sense.
Luckily, her illness had since subsided by the time the next knitting circle rolled around. She took a bit of medicine and used the trolley instead of walking, just to be safe, but she was upright and stir-crazy from sitting in one spot for days on end.
“Miss Dhosseda! “ Fiadh greeted, rushing to her side. “Vinthia told us you were sick last week, how are you feeling?”
“I’m moving a bit slower,” she admitted, “but glad not to be hacking up my own lungs anymore.”
“We’re all glad too. Here, come sit down.”
Dhosseda took her arm to the usual seat. Vinthia was already there at her side, talking to Tokea, and Meldrish sat on the other. But this week was the week—she would not be letting her mood be dictated by petty, childish contests. She took her project out of her purse.
“Dhosseda!” Meldrish gasped, and she braced herself, “I’m so sorry to hear you’ve been ill, what happened?”
“Just a little flu,” she replied. She got to work on her blanket, counting the rows. “I’m feeling much better now, thank you.”
“I’m so glad to hear it, I was lonely without you last week.”
Dhosseda did a double take. “Lonely? Wasn’t everyone else here?”
Meldrish waved a hand. “Oh, it just isn’t the same without you, darling.”
“Oh.” That was a surprise. “Thank you?”
“Of course! And if you’re ever ill again, if you ever need anything at all, just let me know.”
“I—I’ll keep that in mind. Thank you, again.”
Meldrish went back to her project. Dhosseda went back to hers—or tried to.
It was as if the months of arguments had been an elaborate joke. Meldrish was unflappably kind the entire time. They had a genuine conversation about their pets when Dhosseda brought up how Nora stayed by the bed while she was sick, and Meldrish mentioned she had a dog, Dori. They… got along for the first time. Vinthia was surprised, too, Dhosseda could tell, but didn’t have an explanation for her.
By the end of the knitting circle, she still didn’t have one. Dhosseda took her time packing up her things, half on purpose, and half lost in thought. Was this supposed to be another way of getting attention? Had her brief illness knocked something loose in Meldrish that convinced her to be kinder? Was Dhosseda’s new mindset all it took to prepare her for a completely different experience? There was only one way she could find out.
“Meldrish,” she asked, once they were the final two leaving, “I hate to come across rude, but you seem different today.”
“Do I?” she asked, a hand to her chest. “I’m sorry if I came on too strong, I just missed our boasting session last week so terribly.”
Dhosseda blinked. “Boasting session?”
“Yes, is that not what dwarves call it? Our little verbal sparring matches, I love hearing about your grandson!”
A boasting session. Verbal sparring. This whole time, while Dhosseda thought she was being brushed aside, Meldrish had been trying to bond with her. She thought they were swapping stories, engaging in a friendly bragging competition. A flush of embarrassment ran through her, nearly as hot as her fever.
“It’s no trouble at all,” she quickly said. “How would you like to get tea somewhere this weekend, to make up for the meeting I missed?”
Meldrish clasped her claws together. “Oh, I’d love that! I know an excellent tea shop nearby, it’s called The Daughter’s Cup.”
“I can meet you there at two o’clock tomorrow.”
“Perfect!”
They said their goodbyes at the sidewalk and went their separate ways. Dhosseda thought about stopping by the library on her way home—apparently, she needed to learn a bit more about dragonfolk boasting culture.
-
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Taste of Strawberries, chap. 41
Hayffie Post-Mockingjay Multi-chapter, Rated M
Four years have passed since the end of the war when Effie returns in to Haymitch’s life once again. An old friendship is renewed. Will it lead to something more?
Meanwhile Panem has entered a new era. The rebellion’s over, the borders are open but in the shadows, anger and mistrust are smoldering. Something that will affect Haymitch and Effie’s life in a way they never saw coming.
Author’s note: TRIGGER WARNING for mentions of suicide and life’s general awfulness à la young mentor Haymitch. So, yeah. This lil’ chapter is hella depressing.
Chapter 41
Piece by piece
June wouldn’t look at him – not once – as she tied balloons to a nearby tree. Floating ones of every color, just outside the cream colored party tent. The helium canister stood by her feet. A big cylinder thing, gray as stormy seas. If anything it looked like the bombs that a Capitol hovercraft might drop.
Course, he knew better than to blurt that out.
The party tent was anchored at every corner, accompanied by more of June’s floating balloons. Tethered to the ground and tied up with ribbons. The sidewalls had all been removed, leaving the waterproof ceiling above, just in case of rain.
The garden table was set up with the plump coffee pot and matching china. Pretty glasses with soft yellow napkins. Frog green plastic plates and sippy cups for the birthday kids along with a stack of gifts.
Sitting in a bucket of ice was a bottle of (obviously) alcohol-free apple cider and over by June’s apple tree: Effie’s picnic blanket spread out in the shade – just in case it didn’t rain.
“You did it wonderful out here”, he told the blonde woman’s back. “Sincerely.”
Nothing. Not even a sour: “I didn’t do it for you.” If Annabel’s patience was wearing thin, he was one drunken stupor away from making June an enemy.
Not that he wasn’t used to it. Making enemies.
Her silence. Her body language. He knew it all too well. Used to get it all the time back home. Not so much anymore. Post-rebellion.
“Because you helped put an end to Snow. An end to the Games”, Effie said but that wasn’t it. He hadn’t redeemed himself. The supposed thawing of District 12 toward him was all due to the depressing fact that almost no one survived the fire bombings.
But in the glory days – the hateful glances, the cold shoulders, even confrontations was all part of his everyday life. Took only a few seasons.
For about a second after his Quell, him actually winning breathed a sense of hope into the district. Not only because of Parcel Day - those monthly food packages sent in the first year. It was the fact that Twelve finally, finally had a mentor now. A mentor clever enough to win one of the hardest Games in history. Surely it would make a difference? Surely!
Course, it didn’t take him long to prove them wrong and all that hope and optimism turned cold and bitter as a winter storm. It wasn’t just that they resented him for not doing enough. He was also their living breathing reminder of the Games. Past and future.
And as the dead children under his care accumulated he spent less and less time outside the house, unable to look at the young faces of towners and Seam kids alike, wondering which one was next.
That and their loved ones. Families, friends, sweethearts of the kids he failed to bring home. They shouldn’t have to endure his presence more than absolutely necessary. Not if he could help it.
Like the funerals. Few things on this Earth could compete with his hatred for the reaping but those god awful double funerals were definitely up there.
As the mentor, he was expected to attend. And he did, the first couple of years.
Dandruff wasn’t present of course. You didn’t escort dead children back. It was just him and a handful of mourners, carefully selected. All presided over by an armada of peacekeepers, armed to the teeth.
The Iron Maiden and later old Cray held a speech over the small-sized coffins but it was never really about the dead, or the living. More like … sitting round the table and now let’s all give thanks to our lord and savior president Snow.
You’d think there’d be flowers. White, perfume-reeking roses, reminding you of who ran this show. But of course not. Snow wouldn’t waste a single bloom on something as unimportant as a dead tribute. Not even the local wild rose that Katniss might encounter out in the woods.
The last funeral he ever went to was before she and Peeta were born. Effie must have still been a child.
Dandruff reaped a couple of Seam kids that year, just like she did most seasons. 15 year old Laurel and Douglas – just twelve. None of them made it past the bloodbath.
Their families weren’t to go near the coffins to say a final goodbye or put down a daisy. They were just an audience. A class of school children and like the dutiful crowd they kept their expected distance while the Head Peacekeeper ran their pathetic charade.
Lauren’s parents, her brothers and sisters all sobbed together. Silent ones so as not attract the attention of those rifles. Douglas’s mother seemed in chock. Her eyes stared at nothing, bone dry, while her husband - face sunken, a head shorter than her - cried for the both of them.
Haymitch kept his distance at the scene, like he always did. Out of respect for the families. Their pain. But his eyes had flitted to Douglas‘s father at one point and right in that moment Tucker looked at him.
The coal miner knew the mentor would be there. Or maybe not. The funerals were never aired. Not unless there was a special year, like the Quells. Either way he looked stunned, staggered. Like coming out of a dream.
And then, rage took its place. There was no other word for it. And he left his wife’s side. Elbowed himself right through the crowd. Haymitch knew what was coming. Could have deflected it. Easily. After his time in the arena he had reflexes like a wild rabbit. But he didn’t and Tucker struck him to the ground. His body had barely hit the dirt before the man was all over him.
Hand clenched into a fist he punched his face, over and over. Busted his lip up, his nose, his eyebrow – all the time hollering the same thing.
“Murderer! You murderer! Child-murderer!”
Tucker never got to finish the job. Later that same day, only hours after they buried their son, wails could be heard from the coal miner’s house. Peacekeepers arrived to learn the cause of the racket and found Tucker in the bedroom covered in blood, holding his dead wife’s body.
The realization that her only child was gone must have finally hit her. She’d cut her wrists open with her husband’s shaving knife.
The peacekeepers wanted to retrieve the body but Tucker, mad with grief, wouldn’t let them anywhere near Eliza. Teeth bared he fought their every attempt until they shot him.
Square in the chest.
That night, Haymitch got himself drunk for the first time. The Hob was closed but he found his way into the Seam, guided by whatever moonlight he could make out through his one good eye. Knocked on Ripper’s door. Asked for a bottle of white liquor.
The one-armed woman hesitated, reluctant to sell to someone still so young. But her gaze travelled across his bashed, beat up face. His eye swollen shut. The gashes, the crusts of blood, the red and purple bruises.
Finally she nodded.
The liquor burned just as much as he remembered – from that one time with the butcher’s. A beverage so vile no one with any sense left, or choice, would drink it willingly. But he powered it down.
Every drop.
Sip by sip, mouthful by mouthful – even when he gagged on it, even though he knew he’d puke himself into another nosebleed in just a matter of hours.
He did it anyway. To rid himself off their faces. Their voices. If just for a little while.
Laurel, dead. Douglas, dead. Eliza bleeding out in her husband’s arms. Tucker with a hole in his chest.
Murderer! You murderer! Child-murderer!
That was the last time he ever went to a funeral. They could put him in chains, throw him in a cell, flog him or just shoot him on sight like they did Tucker. He didn’t care.
And as time wore on, he spent less and less of it outside the Victor’s Village. He reckoned there’s where he’d do the least harm. He actively pushed people away, alienated himself from the rest of the community.
Stopped spending any real time with Sae and Hazelle and all the rest. Was rude and hurtful on purpose to keep people at a distance. Like Tessa when she arrived at his door step, wanting to treat his face with her soothing herbs and salves.
He shut her out. Shut them all out.
So they’d be safe.
He drew a deep soundless sigh. Stared at the tiny lady bug crawling up a purple ribbon.
He meant what he told June. And he wanted the twins to have all this. And yet ... the whole thing felt increasingly unreal. Presents, balloons, birthday cake.
Why did he get to be here celebrating his kids growing up when so many good, decent, innocent people were all just bones in the ground?
It wasn’t fair and he didn’t deserve it.
Any of it.
#hayffie#haymitch x effie#the hunger games renaissance#haymitch abernathy#effie trinket#district 11#my fanfiction#post-mockingjay#young haymitch
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Best Cotton Dohar for Double Beds: Ultimate Comfort & Style by Tarvik
The Ultimate Guide to Choosing a Cotton Dohar for Your Double Bed
When it comes to comfort and style in bedding, a cotton dohar double bed is a must-have. Whether you want to stay cozy during winters or need a lightweight covering for summer nights, a cotton dohar offers the perfect balance of warmth and breathability. At Tarvik, we bring you the finest collection of cotton dohars crafted for ultimate relaxation.
Why Choose a Cotton Dohar for Your Double Bed?
Superior Comfort: Made from soft and breathable cotton, dohars provide a gentle touch on your skin, ensuring a comfortable sleep.
All-Season Utility: Cotton dohars are versatile and suitable for all seasons. They keep you warm during chilly nights and allow airflow during hot summers.
Easy Maintenance: Unlike heavy blankets, cotton dohars are easy to wash and maintain, making them a practical addition to your bedding.
Stylish Designs: At Tarvik, we offer an array of elegant patterns and colors to complement your bedroom décor.
How to Select the Perfect Cotton Dohar for Your Double Bed
Fabric Quality: Always choose a dohar made from 100% pure cotton for maximum comfort and durability.
Size Matters: Ensure the dohar is large enough to fit your double bed perfectly.
Design & Aesthetics: Pick a design that blends with your room’s theme and enhances its overall appeal.
Layering: Look for triple-layered dohars for better insulation and enhanced softness.
Caring for Your Cotton Dohar
Wash in cold water using a mild detergent to retain its softness and color.
Avoid using harsh chemicals like bleach.
Dry in shade to prevent fading.
Store in a cool, dry place when not in use.
Why Buy from Tarvik?
At Tarvik, we are committed to providing premium-quality cotton dohars for double beds that redefine comfort. Our collection features lightweight, soft, and breathable dohars designed to enhance your sleeping experience. Browse through our range today and transform your bedroom with the perfect cotton dohar!
Final Thoughts
A cotton dohar double bed is a timeless bedding essential that brings comfort, style, and convenience. Whether you’re looking for a traditional print or a modern pattern, Tarvik has something for everyone. Shop now and experience luxury like never before!
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FURTALK Winter Scarf for Women Pashmina Shawl Wraps Cashmere Feel Warm Fashion Blanket Scarves
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/b88ac734608a8ff1e0da6483eb61849c/7a48117f5b66d3c3-69/s540x810/e807fc3da6a7e78936b78036a5c57f317d4dd874.jpg)
About this item
Cashmere Feel Scarf Shawl: Blend of fine viscose and modal. It's soft, medium-weight, and has a subtle sheen. Drapes nicely and stays wrinkle-free
Extra Long Large Scarves Size: 25.6"W(65cm) x78.7" L(200cm), including length of fringe 3.9"(10cm); Whether you wrap it like a scarf or drape it like a shawl
Winter Women Scarf: Soft Warm Eco-friendly materials make this soft scarf reversible, doubling the number of ways you can coordinate it with your wardrobe. Indoors, keep this scarf handy in the TV room or at a party night; And on warmer days, wear it as an outdoor wrap;Great idea for evening wraps or wedding shawls
It is ideal as a wrap for a wedding or evening event. The high-quality thick scarf wrap makes it a perfect gift for any event or occasion; Look elegant and enjoy comfortable warmth from a fall, winter spring wrap
Gentle cycle or hand wash in cold water. Do not bleach. Hand wash in cold water.
Check the price
#WinterScarf#PashminaShawl#CashmereFeel#WarmFashion#WinterStyle#LuxuryScarf#CozyWinter#FashionScarf#WinterAccessories#WomenFashion#WinterWrap#SoftScarf#ElegantScarf#WinterEssentials#ChicWinter#ScarfStyle#WinterWarmth#FashionBlanket#LuxuryWinter#ColdWeatherFashion#WinterMustHave#ScarfLove#WinterOutfit
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The Ultimate Guide to Choosing the Right Winter Scarf
As the temperatures drop, a winter scarf becomes more than just an accessory—it’s a must-have for warmth, comfort, and style. Whether you're layering up for extreme cold or adding a cozy touch to your outfit, choosing the right winter scarf can make all the difference.
In this comprehensive guide, we’ll explore everything you need to know about winter scarves, including types, materials, styling tips, and how to choose the best one for your needs.
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/5fb950993b6d7d88c9a0332df1af3328/114c3255f7ee7636-b8/s540x810/0d73d142ed23da608f468356d1d98f0451afe7a5.jpg)
Why a Winter Scarf is Essential
A winter scarf serves multiple purposes:
✔ Keeps You Warm: A well-chosen scarf acts as an insulating barrier, trapping heat around your neck and protecting you from icy winds. ✔ Adds Style to Your Outfit: From casual to elegant, a scarf can enhance any winter ensemble. ✔ Protects Your Skin: Cold weather can be harsh on your skin. A scarf shields your face and neck from the elements, preventing dryness and irritation.
Types of Winter Scarves
Not all scarves are created equal! There are different styles of winter scarves, each serving a unique purpose.
1. Classic Long Scarf
Best for: Everyday wear, layering, and versatile styling
How to Wear: Wrap it around your neck multiple times for warmth or drape it loosely for a relaxed look.
2. Infinity Scarf
Best for: Casual and trendy looks
How to Wear: Simply loop it around your neck once or twice—no need for complex wrapping techniques!
3. Blanket Scarf
Best for: Extra warmth and layering over coats
How to Wear: Drape it over your shoulders like a shawl or wrap it around your neck for a cozy feel.
4. Pashmina Scarf
Best for: Formal occasions, lightweight warmth
How to Wear: Wear it as a wrap or loosely drape it around your neck for an elegant touch.
5. Snood Scarf
Best for: Maximum warmth and coverage
How to Wear: A snug, tube-like scarf that fits over your head and around your neck, great for extreme cold.
6. Woolen Neck Gaiter
Best for: Outdoor activities, sports, and protection from the cold
How to Wear: Slip it over your head and pull it up over your mouth for extra warmth.
Best Materials for a Winter Scarf
Choosing the right material is just as important as selecting the style. Here are the most common fabrics used in winter scarves:
1. Wool
✔ Pros: Excellent insulation, warm, durable, and moisture-wicking ✔ Cons: Can be itchy for sensitive skin (opt for merino wool for softness)
2. Cashmere
✔ Pros: Ultra-soft, lightweight, warm, and luxurious ✔ Cons: Expensive and requires delicate care
3. Fleece
✔ Pros: Affordable, lightweight, soft, and warm ✔ Cons: Less breathable than wool or cashmere
4. Cotton
✔ Pros: Soft, breathable, and hypoallergenic ✔ Cons: Not as warm as wool or fleece for extreme cold
5. Acrylic
✔ Pros: Budget-friendly, warm, and easy to maintain ✔ Cons: Less durable compared to natural fibers
6. Alpaca
✔ Pros: Extremely warm, soft, and hypoallergenic ✔ Cons: Can be more expensive than wool
7. Silk
✔ Pros: Lightweight and elegant, great for mild winter weather ✔ Cons: Not suitable for extreme cold
How to Choose the Right Winter Scarf
When shopping for a winter scarf, consider the following factors:
1. Climate & Warmth Level
If you live in a region with harsh winters, opt for wool, cashmere, or fleece scarves.
For mild winters, cotton, silk, or pashmina scarves provide light warmth without overheating.
2. Length & Size
Shorter scarves (50-65 inches) are great for a simple wrap-around style.
Longer scarves (70+ inches) allow for multiple wraps for extra warmth.
Blanket scarves offer maximum coverage and can double as a shawl.
3. Comfort & Texture
If you have sensitive skin, go for merino wool, cashmere, or alpaca instead of traditional wool.
Fleece and cotton scarves are also great options for a soft, non-itchy feel.
4. Color & Pattern Choices
Neutral colors (black, gray, beige, navy) match with most outfits and are timeless.
Bright colors & patterns (red, plaid, checkered) add personality and a statement touch to your look.
5. Versatility
If you want a scarf that can transition from casual to formal, opt for a classic wool or cashmere scarf in a neutral color.
For a more fashionable option, a patterned blanket scarf or colorful infinity scarf is a great choice.
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/0a975fe7f116b77692786311b763f3c7/114c3255f7ee7636-ce/s540x810/32c78967df65fd4fd3dfe8431da68dbb19920abe.jpg)
How to Wear a Winter Scarf: Styling Tips
Once you've chosen the perfect winter scarf, knowing how to style it can elevate your look. Here are some easy and trendy ways to wear a scarf:
1. The Classic Wrap
Simply drape the scarf around your neck with both ends hanging down evenly. Perfect for a casual and effortless look.
2. The Loop & Tuck
Fold the scarf in half, place it around your neck, and pull the loose ends through the loop. This style keeps your scarf secure and warm.
3. The European Knot
Wrap the scarf around your neck, then pull one end through the loop. Adjust to your preferred tightness. This is a sophisticated look for formal settings.
4. The Belted Scarf
Drape a long scarf around your shoulders and cinch it at the waist with a belt for a chic, layered look.
5. The Over-the-Shoulder Drape
For blanket scarves, drape one end over your shoulder and let it hang effortlessly.
Caring for Your Winter Scarf
To keep your winter scarf looking and feeling great, follow these care tips:
✔ Check the Label: Always follow the manufacturer’s care instructions. ✔ Hand Wash or Dry Clean Wool & Cashmere: These delicate fabrics require special care. ✔ Machine Wash Fleece & Acrylic: Use a gentle cycle and cold water to prevent pilling. ✔ Store Properly: Fold and store in a drawer or hang on a scarf rack to avoid wrinkles.
Conclusion
A winter scarf is more than just a cold-weather necessity—it’s a stylish and practical accessory that enhances any outfit. Whether you prefer a chunky wool scarf for maximum warmth or a sleek cashmere piece for elegance, there’s a perfect scarf for every occasion.
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How to Choose the Perfect Bedding for Every Season
The selection of bedding depends a lot on seasonal conditions to have a good night's sleep. The appropriate material should be comfortable and adjust to temperature changes throughout the year. During summer seasons, choose a breathable material such as Jaipur bed sheet cotton for comfort. In winter, consider thicker materials such as flannel or fleece for warmth. For spring and autumn, lightweight layers such as a double or single bed with a cotton bed sheet are adequate. A fitted bed sheet king size makes sure the fit is snug and comfortable. A fabric choice that is durable and easy to maintain will be ideal at all times. With season-wise bedding, you are sure to sleep cosily anytime during the year.
Understand the Material
The material of your bedding is a very important aspect in determining your comfort level. In the warmer months, light and breathable fabrics are essential. However, Winter requires thicker, cosier fabrics to keep you warm.
Cotton is a great choice for summer. Jaipur bedsheet cotton is soft, breathable, and allows air to circulate. It's perfect for hot nights. Additionally, for the colder months, consider heavier materials like flannel or fleece, which trap body heat and provide warmth.
Opt for Light Bedding in Summer
In the summer, you want bedding that keeps you cool and comfortable. A light cotton bedsheet double bed or cotton bed sheet single bed works wonders. The fabrics absorb moisture very well and breathe in to make them perfect for hot and humid weather conditions.
Furthermore, a lighter duvet or blanket also does the trick for the season. You can also try Jaipur bedsheets to add an element of elegance to your summer bedding.
Go for Warmth in Winter
When winter comes, you need bedding that will warm and comfort you. Thick duvets, flannel sheets, and layered blankets are your best bets. If you have a larger bed, choose fitted bedsheets king size. They will fit snugly and ensure warmth throughout the night.
Moreover, bedding during winter seasons should be soft yet insulating. Flannel or fleece material will trap the warmth and keep it warm. A better thread count is the bedding one needs to provide comfort during those colder nights.
Spring and Autumn Bedding
Spring and autumn are a relatively unpredictable season when it comes to weather. You will need bedding that can change with the temperature. The secret is in light yet warm bedding. A cotton bed sheet double bed should be comfortable for this transitional period.
Therefore, layer your bed with a light duvet or blanket during these seasons. You could even go for Jaipur bed sheet cotton, which brings you that fresh, spring-like feel while ensuring you remain comfortable.
Choose the Right Bedding Size
Bedding size must be taken into consideration since a good fit is guaranteed. A single bed will be ideal for one sleeper using a cotton bedsheet, and it is best for couples or bigger beds by using a double bed with a cotton bedsheet. A fitted bedsheet king size will be the best option for a king-size bed since you can gain a good fit that will prevent the sheets from slipping off at night.
Additionally, ensure your duvet or blanket fits your bed so as not to cause discomfort. This will also add to the aesthetics of your bed with a well-fitted sheet.
Consider Maintenance and Durability
Bedding is an investment, so you should choose fabrics that are easy to maintain and durable. Cotton is a very easy fabric to wash and maintain, so it is a great one for daily use. Jaipur bedsheets can particularly be known for their durability for long use.
Furthermore, ensure your bedding sheets are easily cleanable and dry quickly. Such are vital if changing bed often, or to anyone staying in wet places.
Add Style with Bedding
Bedding serves both functional and decorative purposes in your home. Always choose bedding that reflects the season and enhances the appearance of your room. Jaipur offers bed sheets with different colours and patterns, where you can suitably decorate your room.
However, you might prefer darker, rich tones during winter. Then, in spring and summer, lighter pastel shades or floral prints can give the feeling of freshness and airiness.
Conclusion
Selecting the right bedding for each season is crucial for a good night's sleep. Whether you opt for Jaipur bedsheet cotton in summer or a fitted bedsheet king size in winter, it's all about material, size, and warmth. You can make sure that your bedding provides maximum comfort all through the year by keeping in mind the needs of the season.
Moreover, don't forget to add layers during transitional seasons, and always make sure to use suitable fabrics for your sleeping place. Create a cosy, stylish bed for every season using these suggestions.
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Why Choose a Cotton Dohar for Your Bed?
When it comes to choosing the perfect bedding for a restful night’s sleep, comfort and breathability are key. A cotton dohar is a top choice for many people looking to enhance their bedroom’s comfort and style. Let’s explore why cotton dohars are the ideal addition to your bedding collection, whether you prefer a single bed dohar or a double bed dohar.
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/3d02a868608ec25510e9e46faa4dd46c/7f4fd21f2c20bda6-a1/s540x810/add4f7c0def6b646fa630b49b78469dbe32eec13.jpg)
1. Unmatched Comfort and Softness
Cotton is renowned for its softness, and a cotton dohar provides the luxurious comfort you deserve after a long day. Unlike synthetic materials, cotton allows your skin to breathe, preventing overheating and offering a cozy yet airy feel. This makes it perfect for year-round use, whether in warm summers or chilly winters when layered with a dohar blanket.
2. Lightweight and Versatile
One of the standout features of cotton dohars is their lightweight design. Unlike heavy blankets, a dohar set adds just the right amount of warmth without feeling bulky. This makes it easy to store and handle, whether you need a single bed dohar for a compact space or a cotton double bed dohar for a larger mattress.
3. Hypoallergenic and Skin-Friendly
Cotton is a natural fiber that is gentle on sensitive skin. A cotton dohar is an excellent choice for families, especially for children or people with allergies. Its hypoallergenic properties help reduce the risk of irritation, ensuring a peaceful and itch-free sleep.
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/4a99e58857eb877217d2df6977f83d08/7f4fd21f2c20bda6-d7/s540x810/b07959dae5e6b85ad8d14fd4b92d30c6c33d0200.jpg)
4. Stylish and Decorative
Today’s cotton dohars come in a wide range of colors, patterns, and designs, making them a stylish addition to your bedroom decor. A well-chosen cotton double bed dohar can act as a statement piece, adding elegance and vibrancy to your space. Similarly, matching a dohar set with your room’s color scheme can create a coordinated, cozy ambiance.
5. Easy Maintenance
Cotton dohars are known for their durability and ease of care. Most are machine washable, making them convenient for regular use. Unlike more delicate materials, a dohar blanket retains its softness and appearance even after multiple washes.
Choosing the Right Cotton Dohar
When selecting a cotton dohar, consider the size that best fits your bed. A single bed dohar is perfect for individual sleepers or smaller beds, while a cotton double bed dohar provides ample coverage for larger beds or shared sleeping arrangements.
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/b17f10c843b78b88fe115d53e54263ba/7f4fd21f2c20bda6-15/s540x810/77c208f5cde581fe60176086b4d8f6e390f0e7cc.jpg)
Conclusion
Investing in a cotton dohar is a smart choice for anyone seeking comfort, style, and practicality. With its natural softness, breathability, and elegant design options, a cotton dohar enhances your sleep experience while adding charm to your bedroom. Whether you’re looking for a cozy single bed dohar or an expansive dohar set, you can’t go wrong with this timeless bedding essential.
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Real Basics unisex child fleece Track Suit
Price: (as of – Details) Top Brand Product Dimensions : 15 x 12 x 2.8 cm; 300 g Date First Available : 11 January 2023 Manufacturer : Paras Textiles, Paras Textiles,Tiruppur,7667277497 ASIN : B0BS48YKKR Item model number : RB-BS-Winter-03-GrnPan(029) Country of Origin : India Department : Unisex Baby Manufacturer : Paras Textiles, Paras…
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/c21facaeeeb5f2f5da434f7d6a067b76/e3a06207f9108635-c9/s540x810/d9722c629236394d2cdcd25dd38141f5d9617812.jpg)
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Winter Warmth: Extra Soft Double-Sided Fleece Quilted Blanket
The Winter Quilt Extra Soft Double-Sided Fleece Quilted Blanket is your go-to solution for staying warm and comfortable during the coldest months. This luxurious blanket combines practicality with plush elegance, making it an essential addition to any home.
Crafted with two layers of ultra-soft fleece, this quilted blanket delivers exceptional warmth without feeling heavy. The double-sided design ensures consistent coziness, while the quilted stitching enhances durability and prevents shifting of the inner filling, maintaining an even distribution of warmth. Its lightweight yet insulating properties make it perfect for layering on a bed or using as a standalone blanket during crisp winter nights.
Available in a variety of colors and sizes, the blanket caters to diverse tastes and home decor styles. Whether draped over a couch for a stylish accent or spread across a bed for ultimate comfort, it adds a touch of elegance to any room. Its easy-care fabric resists fading and maintains softness after multiple washes, ensuring long-lasting use.
Designed for versatility and luxury, the Winter Quilt Extra Soft Double-Sided Fleece Quilted Blanket is perfect for snuggling up on chilly evenings, making it a thoughtful gift or a personal indulgence for winter comfort.
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Sweet Home Collection 5 piece Comfortable Set Bag Solid Color All Seasons Soft Down Alternative Blanket & Luxurious Microfiber Bed Sheets, gray, Twin
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About this item
100% Double Brushed Microfiber
Imported
OUTSTANDING 5 PIECE SET - Ready to update your bedroom decor? Get everything you need in one set! This soft and comfortable down alternative comforter set includes all you need to transform your bed into a home décor dream. In each pre-packaged set you will receive 1 all season brushed microfiber comforter, 1 fitted sheet, 1 flat sheet, and 2 pillowcases. Update your bedding with our Sweet Home Collection 5 Piece Bed in a Bag Comforter Set today!
PERFECT FOR ALL SEASONS - We want you to be comfortable all year 'round. Having to pull out the old and heavy down comforter for winter is a hassle. We bring you a comforter that was designed for use throughout the year. Stay warm in the winter and cool in the summer. Our breathable, double brushed microfiber was designed with you in mind. Be comfortable and bring some flair today with this beautiful 5 piece set.
LIE IN LUXURY – No more sleepless nights on uncomfortably itchy sheets! Sleep soundly on the softest microfiber sheets and down alternative comforter. They become softer with each wash and stay cool through the night. Be warned, though: You may never be an early bird again!
HOW WE SIZE UP - Our comforter comes in five sizes, Twin, Twin XL, Full, Queen, and King size. King dimensions are as follows: Comforter: 102" x 88", Fitted Sheet: 78" x 80", Flat Sheet: 102" x 105", 4 Pillowcases: 20" x 36" Each
STAY CLEANER, LONGER – Who has time to wash their comforter and sheets every few nights? When it’s time for a wash, machine wash cold, and tumble dry low.
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Price: [price_with_discount] (as of [price_update_date] - Details) [ad_1] BSB HOME Present Soft, cosy and light weight reversible comforter with 220 GSM hollow siliconized With 2 other Layered high quality microfiber cloth 100 percent microfibre shell for a rich, luxurious feel Machine stitched pattern to keep the filling in place for durability BSB HOME Comforters are designed to keep you warm and cozy. Perfect for usage during mild winters and in air conditioned rooms, these lightweight comforters are perfect for everyday use. Premium Microfiber Material: Crafted from high-quality microfiber fabric, the comforter is incredibly soft to the touch, providing a luxurious feel and enhancing your sleeping experience. Generous Size: Measuring 60x90 inches, the comforter is designed to perfectly fit a double bed, draping elegantly over the mattress and offering ample coverage for cozy nights. Versatile Use: Whether you use it as an AC comforter or a standalone blanket, it's designed to keep you cozy and comfortable year-round. Machine Washable: Easily clean this comforter by tossing it in the washing machine, making maintenance a breeze. Use a gentle cycle with mild detergent to preserve the quality and colors of the comforter. Do not use bleach or harsh chemicals, as they can damage the microfiber material. [ad_2]
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Sofa Throw Blanket: Comfort and Style in One
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A sofa throw blanket is not just a simple piece of fabric; it’s the perfect way to bring warmth, comfort, and a touch of style to your living space. Whether you're looking to refresh your home décor or want something cozy for those chilly evenings, a throw blanket can be your best friend. Let’s dive into why these versatile pieces are a must-have for every home.
What is a Sofa Throw Blanket?
A sofa throw blanket is a lightweight, decorative blanket designed to be draped over your sofa, chair, or bed. Unlike heavy quilts or comforters, throw blankets are smaller, making them easy to handle and perfect for layering. They come in various colors, patterns, and materials, allowing you to pick one that matches your style and comfort preferences.
Why Do You Need a Sofa Throw Blanket?
1. Adds Comfort
There’s nothing like wrapping yourself in a soft blanket while watching your favorite show or enjoying a cup of coffee. A sofa throw adds an extra layer of coziness to your living room, making it inviting for you and your guests.
2. Enhances Home Décor
Throw blankets are a simple yet effective way to style your space. Drape one casually over the back of your sofa for a chic, relaxed look, or fold it neatly for a clean and organized vibe. Patterns like floral prints, stripes, or even block prints can act as statement pieces in an otherwise neutral room.
3. Perfect for All Seasons
Sofa throw blankets aren’t just for winter. Lightweight cotton or linen throws are great for summer evenings, while thicker wool or fleece options keep you warm during the colder months.
4. Multi-Purpose
Not limited to sofas, these blankets can be used as picnic mats, bed runners, or even shawls on particularly cold evenings. Their versatility makes them an essential household item.
Choosing the Right Sofa Throw Blanket
When selecting a sofa throw blanket, keep the following in mind:
Material
Cotton: Lightweight, breathable, and perfect for everyday use.
Wool: Warm and cozy, ideal for winter.
Fleece: Soft, lightweight, and budget-friendly.
Handwoven or Handcrafted Options: Sustainable and unique, these add a personal touch to your space.
Size
Ensure the blanket is large enough to cover your sofa or fit your intended use. A standard size (50x70 inches) works well for most sofas.
Design and Color
Pick a design that complements your existing décor. Neutral tones like beige, gray, or white are timeless, while bold colors and patterns can add personality to your room.
How to Care for Your Throw Blanket
To keep your sofa throw blanket looking fresh and new:
Wash it according to the care label (most can be machine-washed).
Use mild detergents to preserve the fabric quality.
Store it neatly folded in a dry place when not in use.
Final Thoughts
A sofa throw blanket is the perfect blend of style and practicality. It keeps you warm and cozy while doubling as a fashionable décor piece. Whether you choose a handmade block-printed throw for a touch of elegance or a soft fleece blanket for ultimate comfort, this little addition can transform your living space into a haven of warmth and charm.
So, why wait? Pick a sofa throw blanket today and add that extra touch of comfort and beauty to your home!
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Best Cotton Dohar for Double Beds: Ultimate Comfort & Style by Tarvik
Best Cotton Dohar for Double Beds: Ultimate Comfort & Style by Tarvik
The Ultimate Guide to Choosing a Cotton Dohar for Your Double Bed
When it comes to comfort and style in bedding, a cotton dohar double bed is a must-have. Whether you want to stay cozy during winters or need a lightweight covering for summer nights, a cotton dohar offers the perfect balance of warmth and breathability. At Tarvik, we bring you the finest collection of cotton dohars crafted for ultimate relaxation.
Why Choose a Cotton Dohar for Your Double Bed?
Superior Comfort: Made from soft and breathable cotton, dohars provide a gentle touch on your skin, ensuring a comfortable sleep.
All-Season Utility: Cotton dohars are versatile and suitable for all seasons. They keep you warm during chilly nights and allow airflow during hot summers.
Easy Maintenance: Unlike heavy blankets, cotton dohars are easy to wash and maintain, making them a practical addition to your bedding.
Stylish Designs: At Tarvik, we offer an array of elegant patterns and colors to complement your bedroom décor.
How to Select the Perfect Cotton Dohar for Your Double Bed
Fabric Quality: Always choose a dohar made from 100% pure cotton for maximum comfort and durability.
Size Matters: Ensure the dohar is large enough to fit your double bed perfectly.
Design & Aesthetics: Pick a design that blends with your room’s theme and enhances its overall appeal.
Layering: Look for triple-layered dohars for better insulation and enhanced softness.
Caring for Your Cotton Dohar
Wash in cold water using a mild detergent to retain its softness and color.
Avoid using harsh chemicals like bleach.
Dry in shade to prevent fading.
Store in a cool, dry place when not in use.
Why Buy from Tarvik?
At Tarvik, we are committed to providing premium-quality cotton dohars for double beds that redefine comfort. Our collection features lightweight, soft, and breathable dohars designed to enhance your sleeping experience. Browse through our range today and transform your bedroom with the perfect cotton dohar!
Final Thoughts
A cotton dohar double bed is a timeless bedding essential that brings comfort, style, and convenience. Whether you’re looking for a traditional print or a modern pattern, Tarvik has something for everyone. Shop now and experience luxury like never before!
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