#bedding comforter sets

[jaipurwholesaler]

Top Reasons to Buy Comforter Sets in Bulk from a Wholesaler

Comforters popularity has only risen with each passing year, making it an exciting venture for folks to start a business in. And the best advice for starting a retail business is to buy in bulk from a bedding comforter sets manufacturers. But why is that? What are the benefits of buying comforters in bulk? Let’s take a look at that.

[buttercupshands]

silly guys finally got another one in

took them a while but they did it! (oh no)

[writing-whump]

Why would you go through such pain?

Update about Isaiah's condition and Seline's flashback to their first date, when she got horrible blisters and Isaiah took care of her.

Seline was seriously considering calling Dylan back just to force Matthew home. The wolf in question was currently snoring in the chair next to Isaiah's bed. Head leaned back, a shade away from falling off. Sounding like a malfunctioning lawn mower.

Perhaps it was also a good sign. It meant Matt felt like he could relax, that Isaiah wasn't dying anytime soon.

Isaiah was already asleep again when she returned with the food and their phone chargers. Matthew described his state like a documentary movie, longer than it could have lasted in his efforts to be informative.

Seline really had no capacity to be angry right then. It would come later, likely, but not now.

Isaiah lay in bed surrounded by the soft hum of machines monitoring his every breath and heartbeat. His face normally relaxed and peaceful in sleep was scarily devoid of any expression, looking empty and pale, dark black circles under his eyes. She could count the veins in his cheek, thin sheen of sweat on his forehead.

His normally thick black hair with a slight wave to them was tousled and thin from grime, sticking to the pillows from the perspiration. He would never let them get to such a state if he was awake.

The IV line snaked from his left hand, which she was glad for, cause his right hand was free for her to hold. His fingers were slightly curled as if he was reaching for something. The clip-like device on the finger tip of his forefinger measuring his pulse prevented her from entwining their fingers. It made her scared she would mess up something.

His chest rose and fell in shallow, steady breaths. The thin hospital gown didn't quite disguise the thick bulge of bandages where the surgeons cut his heart and mended his open chest.

The chair wasn't the most comfortable thing, so she leaned her elbows on the bed, tracing little circles on the back of his palm and forearm that disappeared into the gown.

What was he thinking? Not telling her? At this point of her emotional and physical exhaustion, it was more of an abstract curiosity at his thought process than anything else.

It got her thinking of their first official date after they confessed they felt something for each other. Barely a month into starting to live together, they were used to each other, but the new status promised to change some things.

Isaiah planned the day for her to enjoy and she felt a new set of expectations and pressure set on her. She even called her mother for tips about what dress and shoes to wear. Her mom, of course, insisted on a dress with a belt around the middle to highlight her slim build and basically forbade her from wearing her white sneakers. No, no, you have to wear the black leather sandals.

And Seline wanted to be pretty for Isaiah. Prettier than usual.

They took the tram to the center, took a walk around the park, ice cream on the programm before lunch, then the new city museum at Karlsplatz...what Seline didn't account for was Isaiah's enthusiastic insistence they could get everywhere on foot.

She never noticed how vehement he was about it. Isaiah was the only one with the car of the three of them and Seline loved Vienna was so well-connected a car was more of a burden on good days.

The central Ring in Vienna had all the exiting sights in one row, which was great and practical for a walk. Except nothing was actually near, every stop and every park good 700 meters away from each other.

And her sandals hurt.

At first it was just light stinging. It could as well have been the hot pavement, the day was particularly warm for late autumn. She didn't pay attention, tense as a string to focus on doing the right thing, to listen to him, but also talking but not too much.

Being with Isaiah was so fun she was scared to overwhelm him the way she sometimes did her friends. She could talk their ear off for good four hours at lunch and then not understand why they were asking her if she didn't want to catch a train home or something.

That's when you missed 10 different signs it was too much, her mother told her.

So she was very very careful about not letting her mouth run too much and be considerate. Paying attention way more to Isaiah since then than she did to Matthew, who she wasn't so scared of chasing away. Matt didn't care that much about her deep discussions anyway, zoning out or telling her to leave him breathe. She learned to accept that with humor.

So they kept walking and Isaiah walked with such confidence and had so many things to show her while entertaining her with most fascinating topics.

Is there a difference between thought and thought formulated in words? Is there an understanding that proceeds the language you are currently thinking or speaking in? What about the language you choose for your personal notes and to-do-lists, how do you choose it? What makes someone like to-do-lists in the first place? Is that a discipline attempt or a way for creative chaotic people to ground themselves in reality? Why did some people like chaos and some order?

Isaiah went all nerdy on her with his psychology classes and cited books and studies he read and she did hers and she was jittery with the happiness and excitement it filled her with.

Who cares about some stinging? She was normally not a fan of suffering for beauty ideals of others and she wasn't big on make up and prettiness, but she could take it today to not ruin the date.

They ate the lunch and made their way to the next stop when her feet started to really hurt. Like the break made it settle in more. What was going on? Maybe there were blisters—but forming so quickly?

Another problem was that she was too emberased to get the shoes off and inspect the soles of her feet in public. And looking at blistered sweaty feet in front of Isaiah on their first idealistic date? No way in hell.

It got to a point that focusing on anything else but her feet got impossible. They burned on four specific places, under her fingers and the small fingers on both legs and the pain spread over the whole soles that she couldn't identify the worst points anymore. Not showing the pain on her face had her looking all over the place and forcing smiles. She usually smiled when she was sad about something, so that was a natural mode to slip into.

In hindsight she could have just stopped on a bench in a park. Told Isaiah the shoes weren't good for walking and call it a day.

But then she would also have to admit she chose special shoes just to impress him and she was supposed to be more mature and knowledgeable about damn shoes and being beautiful as a grown woman than that.

Even worse, what if he thought she expected them to spend every date drinking coffee and talking? What if that seemed too boring?

She missed out on worrying over these things as a teen, having zero interest in the immature loud creatures her friends were crushing on in high school. It would be totally different for her, she would be herself and everyone else be damned. If he didn't like her, his bussienss, she wouldn't change for him.

Easier said than done when you already were in love.

And Seline was so in awe at the feeling, at the childish fluttery joy she felt around him. Being able to genuinely admire someone. The form of Isaiah's jaw from the side, his vibrant and lively green eyes and how his black curls fell into them, the thoughtful expression and the tone of voice when he considered her question and started explaining something...

It was her trap, her tendency to look down on people—she knew that and she hated that about herself—and then to hold on to them obsessively if she found them interesting. She could forgive and forget terrible treatment, ignoration, her own promises she wouldn't budge on who she was. Stinging feet were nothing in comparison.

As the day was ending. Isaiah's voice was zoning out on her and she yearned for a good excuse to send him away and go to the pharmacy for some band aids. Or to just walk barefoot on the sidewalk, cause she couldn't take one more step in those stupid sandals without crying.

"And I was thinking for dinner, we could go that sushi place you like so much-"

"We shouldn't leave Matthew all without dinner," she found an excuse! "Do you think you could take takeout from the place and I'll stop by-" where could she stop by? Think, think, think! "-the drugstore for some essentials missing at home?"

Isaiah frowned. "We can go together-"

"No, it's okay!" Don't sound so enthusiastic, girl. "It would save us both time and it's already late and I won't have time tomorrow...since it's Sunday and everything will be closed. And it's already late, if we don't go now, we won't make it."

Isaiah looked a bit suspicious but let her drag him into the scheme.

She let out a relieved breath once he was around the corner. Shaking off the shoes even though it was a rather nasty commercial street, she hurried to the pharmacy.

In the end she gave up on the stairs to her room. Her feet were passively burning and black from how filthy they were. She bought disinfection and blister band aids, but first she would need to get to her bathroom to clean them. And that was proving entirely impossible with how much they hurt.

Seline sat there, pouting and overheated, pained tears running down her cheeks at her own stupidity, when Isaiah walked in.

"I got enough sushi for tomor-" he froze in his tracks. "Sel? What's wrong?"

He put the bags down and crouched in front of her, his voice impossibly gentle. "Hey, Sel, baby, what's wrong? Why are you crying? Can you tell me?"

That was the first time he called her that.

She rubbed at her cheek in frustration and looked down. "'is nothing...my feet- it's just-"

Isaiah's eyebrows went up and he reached for her leg to lift it carefully. His breath hitched as he took in the giant blister burst on the side with bloody edges, covered in grime. "Aww, baby, why didn't you tell me? That must have hurt."

"Sorry- I didn't want you to-didn't want to ruin the date because of the stupid shoes and-" A sob interrupted her and she hid her face in her hands.

Isaiah checked the other leg that was in similar condition. He was taking those deep controlled breaths that told her he was supressing some kind of emotional response. "Okay, everything is okay. Would you mind if I carried you? Sel?"

Seline looked up at him from between her fingers shyly. Isaiah reached over to brush a lock of golden hair out her face. Something about his eyes shimmered painfully. "Can I help? Please?"

She nodded tightly, not entirely sure what he meant with that. Her feet felt like the skin got scorched off.

Isaiah scooped her up gently in his arms and took her to the ground floor bathroom - his and Matthew's. Carefully positioning her on the edge of the bath, he got the shower head going, checking the temperature.

He planed a hand on her shoulder to hold her in place. "Ready?"

Once she got her breathing under control he let the warm water spray over her feet. She moaned quietly, hands shooting out to hold on to his his elbow and he let her. "Shhhh, alright, you are doing great. Hold on a sec."

She watched the water turn darker as the worst of the filth flowed away, but she was scared to look down at the actual blisters.

"You took your shoes off outside?" Isaiah asked gently.

"Uhmmm." She hiccuped, trying not to cry anymore. It was ridiculous to have a meld down over blisters. Especially since she could have prevented this if she had half her brain working.

"Okay," Isaiah kissed the top of her head. He stood behind her back, one arm wrapping around her front, coaxing her to lean back against him.

"Think you can take some soap? I'll just clean it out, then we can disinfect it and put a band aid on it. Good as new."

He was lying. She was plenty sure she wouldn't be able to walk for a few days. Standing was totally torture and her feet were still on fire even under the water. She turned the faucet towards blue, the soothing coldness elicting a sigh.

When he reached for the soap, she took it from him. "I can do it," she said shakily. The idea of him touching the blisters had her mortified for him. "That's so gross."

Isaiah rolled his eyes, leaning his head chin lightly on her shoulder, cheek pressed against her neck. "It's a wound, baby. I can take care of it."

In the end she didn't have a choice. The soap had her clawing at her legs in pain so Isaiah took over smoothly, finishing massaging the soap before splashing it clean.

He balled her legs in a big towel and carried her bridal style again back to the sofa. Looking through the bag she brought from the pharmacy, he nodded approvingly and got the miniature scissors and a cologne.

"I think it will be less painful if we cut the moving parts away. The skin will heal faster that way."

"That's-" she gulped, looking at him spraying the tiny scissors with his perfume. "That's your expensive one, why don't you-"

"Strong alcohol. I'll desinfect the wound with the spray after, but I want to be sure with these." He leaned over to kiss her on the tip of her nose. "Don't worry about my cologne, silly. At least you will smell more like me."

She shook her head, eyes welling up again.

Isaiah held her feet carefully in his grasp as he cut the moving skin on the edges and then sprayed it generously with the disinfect.

Seline pressed her fingers into her heel, the pressure helping with the stinging burning pain as the spray worked its way through the germs. It was like he drove sharp needles deep into her foot.

"Let's leave them breathe for a bit and then we can use these blister band aids," Isaiah said calmly, studying the box with the guidelines. "Any other wishes?"

She ducked her head at his green eyes, now lased focused on her in concern. Like he expected her to flinch. She could take it though and she needed him to know she could, despite the pathetic tearful display from before.

"Sel? What is it?"

She nodded tightly, her eyes darting to the ceiling.

"Yes?" Isaiah said expectantly, not missing the look.

"Could you- would you..."

Isaiah sighed, leaning forward to take her hands in his. "Tell me."

"I have Aloe Vera spray in my bedroom-"

"I'll be right back," he squeezed her hands once and jumped to his feet.

Blisters safely covered and disinfected, they stayed on the sofa. Isaiah brought her a glass of water and after studying her stoic expression and the tears in the corners of her eyes, forced her to take ibuprofen for the pain.

She couldn't find a comfortable position, her feet up on the sofa but the armrest being much shorter than the backrest.

"Wait a second." Isaiah pushed her away like he was touching porcelain. He slid against the armrest in a lying position then pulled her into his arms. He propped her feet on his bend knee and closed his other around her. This way her soles were in the air, but she was cocooned in his warmth. "Still hurting?"

Seline hid her face, melting against his chest. An overwhelming sense of warmth and security washed over her, like a soft blanket that reached all the way to her insides. His arms around her were strong but tender, like she was something precious he wanted to protect.

The throbbing of her blisters was still there, but it faded in comparison to his steady breathing and face this close to her. It wasn't just physical comfort, it was like a balm for the soul.

"Just a little."

His arms went snuggly around her waist. "You can tell me stuff like that sooner, you know? I don't know why you would put yourself through such pain."

She felt her cheeks turning pink. "Sorry."

"Don't be sorry. Just tell me next time, okay?" He nuzzled his cheek against her.

It was the first time he was this affectionate. In the chaos she forgot about the first official day and date and pressure. It was only Isaiah and her feeling stupid she didn't feel like telling him. "Okay."

Blinking herself back from the memory back to the beeping machines and the hospital bed, she wondered.

Couldn't she make him feel the same comfort she felt around him?

[stroopwafel-enthusiast]

I am a simple man. I see a Wesper gif, I cry, I like, I reblog.

[walking-loather]

When it comes to hygiene tasks and self care with disability and chronic illness, its pretty much a constant case of: don't let perfect be the enemy of the good.

Basically: it's better to do something, than to do nothing at all.

TLDR: Just because you can't do something "properly" doesn't mean you shouldn't do it at all. Do it half-way. Do it shitty. Do it barely. Do it on a technicality. But do what you can. Just try, because doing something will help you.

If you don't have the energy to scrub your body with a sponge, just rub soap over your skin with your hands.

If you don't have the energy to wash your whole body with soap, just hit the places where sweat accumulates, or where you're smelliest.

If you don't have the energy to wash with soap AT ALL, just sitting in water is better than nothing. It will wash away dirt and oils.

If you can't bathe or shower at all, a warm wash cloth is your new best friend. If that's too much, then try bath wipes. They're a bit bigger than regular wet wipes, and a bit more heavy duty. They're designed to help keep bed ridden patients clean in hospitals.

If you don't have the energy to dry yourself after a bath or a shower, just put on a bathrobe and get into bed. If you don't have the energy to get dressed afterwards, just don't. It can wait until you can.

If you don't have energy to brush your teeth for two minutes, honestly, just a cursory scrub is better than not doing anything.

If you can't brush your teeth twice a day, brush in the evenings. It will help take away the build up of food from the day.

If you don't have the energy to brush AT ALL, honestly, just take a cloth and wipe the plaque off your teeth. Rinse with mouth wash after if you'd like. Something is always better than nothing.

If you can't floss twice a day. Try once. If that's too much, try a few times a week. If that's too much, try setting aside a day once a week as a goal. If you can't keep a schedule, do it when you're able to. Hell, I keep some floss next to my bed so that if I forget and don't have the energy to go get it, I can just reach over.

If you can't iron your clothes, don't bother. Wrinkles are fine. Wear jumpers over wrinkly t-shirts. No one will know, and honestly, most people won't even care. If it's really wrinkly and it's A Big Deal And It Needs To Be Ironed, here's my life hack. Step 1: take a spray bottle, and spritz the item of clothing (while you're wearing it is easiest) until it's lightly damp. Step 2: use a hair-dryer on the clothes until they're dry. It gets rid of creases like nobody's business, it's easier than lugging out the iron and ironing board, and you get to have nice toasty warm clothes afterwards.

If you can't fold your clothes, try just hanging them up. It's less commitment. It's quicker to do. Granted, you need to have the space in order to do this, but it is also good at helping you downsize, and lets you visualise exactly what you have.

If you can't put your clothes away, invest in a couple of laundry baskets, and then just keep your clean clothes in the baskets. You can then separate washed clothes into underwear, pants, and shirts baskets. You can just leave them like that. I'm giving you permission to never fold your laundry again if you can't. Just leave it unfolded. Who's going to care? Something is better than nothing. If you can, try to put those baskets into your closet so that you can keep the clutter out of sight, and give yourself a more restful environment.

If you can't separate your clothing out into different categories and wash them "properly" (whites, warm tones, cool tones, darks, delicates / switching between hot & cold washes / paying attention to laundry instructions on the label) then just don't worry about it. If you cold wash your clothes, colours won't bleed. Maybe gradually over the course of dozens of washes there'll be some changes in hue, but it's really not as high stakes as the One Red Sock In The Whites Turns Them Pink trope makes it out to be.

I've pretty much come to the point in my life where if a piece of clothing can't survive the washer and dryer, then it's just not meant to be. I colour separate my clothes, and if I have the energy/remember I'll take my bras and jumpers out of the washing machine to drip dry. But otherwise, I leave it to the universe.

If you can't separate out your recycling, then don't. If you have a large amount of rubbish you need to get rid of but the idea of separating it out properly is stopping you from doing so, then just don't worry about it. I know it's not ideal, but if you have garbage in your room/house and you need to get rid of it, please just get rid of it. Don't let the problem get bigger and harder to deal with. Don't let "doing something properly" get in the way of keeping your living spaces clean. Please. Give yourself understanding.

If you can't wash your dishes, get paper plates. Obviously, it's not ideal, but it is better that you eat food than skipping meals. It is better that you have a clean kitchen, rather than having dishes piling up and making it harder to look after yourself.

If you can't prepare meals for yourself keep making the tasks easier and easier. If you can't do recipes, then simplify. Use pasta sauce from the jar instead of making it. Eat canned soup. Buy food you can just stick in the oven. If you eat fish fingers and microwave veggies every night, it's better than not eating anything at all. It's better than having to fork out money on take-out. If you need ready-made meals, then get them. If you're literally just eating a raw cauliflower for dinner; 1) I see you, 2) me too, sis, 3) something is better than nothing.

These are the basic things you need to do every day to function as a person. They are your activities of daily living. Brushing your teeth. Bathing or showering. Using the bathroom. Getting dressed. Eating. Drinking. Sleeping. Keeping your environment clean. You don't need to do these things perfectly, but they need to happen in order for you to have a decent quality of life.

And it breaks my heart, because I know that so many disabled people can't do these things every day. I'm not saying this to guilt or judge, I'm saying that these are basic needs; you deserve these things. These things bring dignity. If a disabled person is unable to do these things, it diminishes their quality of life. It robs them of dignity.

If you need help to do these things, Its okay to ask for help. It's okay to need help. But if you can't get that help and you have to do these things by yourself -- or you just plain want to be independent and do it without help-- then don't hold yourself to standards you can't meet.

Don't let perfect be the enemy of the good. Doing something is always better than doing nothing. Even if it's not perfect. Even if it's not done well. Do what you can.

[magicalshopping]

♡ 7 Piece Crushed Velvet Bedding Set ♡

[lunaetis]

a friendly reminder that you're always welcomed ( and encouraged ) to turn any crack / casual responses into threads. ( this includes but not limited to dash games, commentary, opens, random posts, etc. ) i'm pretty slow with starters & asks, and sometimes crack / casual interaction is a good way to break the ice between muses or get some development / bonding time going ! so pls feel free to take them & run & see where things go !

[orcelito]

6.5hr in the car was rough. But I'm all bundled in my beddie bye and I have the box fan going (so glad I thought to bring it) and the view outside the cabin is beautiful and I'm going ziplining tomorrow morning

It is time to sleep bundled like a rat in its bedding and then have a wonderful day tomorrow

[msbarrows]

My moss bed has a lot more decorative stuff now; more than double what it started out with. I've picked up three more leaves, two mushrooms, and a Crow Time plushie for it. I'm also eyeing an oversized fox plushie as something to maybe get. Though I might wait until the fall for any further additions, as we're starting to get into warm enough weather that things like the duvet and its shaggy cover will be going into storage soon, as will all the pillows except the flower. Because, as previously mentioned, its bowl-like shape makes it a great rallying point for things like my reading glasses, cell phone, bluetooth speaker, and so forth.

(Yes, the desire for the oversized fox is absolutely based on liking the recent Crow Time comics sequence where the crow is journeying with a fox. 1 | 2 | 3)

[jaipurwholesaler]

Benefits of Buying Comforters in Bulk for a Retail Business

Comforters popularity has only risen with each passing year, making it an exciting venture for folks to start a business in. And the best advice for starting a retail business is to buy in bulk from a bedding comforter sets manufacturers. But why is that? What are the benefits of buying comforters in bulk? Let’s take a look at that.

[prick-love-for-pricking]

Okay so, a little bit of context, my boyfriend has one pillow on his queen size bed. Just one. I have 6 on my full size bed. And I really want to know what the average number of pillows people have on their beds when it is made, not how many they sleep with.

Bonus points if you say what size bed you have

[crimeronan]

lord i am headache. who's up rn. if i set up a stream to watch some of the hunter eps of toh would any of u guys wanna pop in and join me. extra bonus if you haven't watched the show before but just want to know wtf i'm talking about at any given time.

[lexkent]

an old professor asked me to be the videographer for some interviews today, and it's been a few years so I was nervous but had some ideas on what I wanted to do, but then he set me up to shoot the subject right in front of a plain white wall with extremely poor lighting and I should've spoken up and shared my ideas, but I didn't and this footage I have to edit and turn in is grainy Hot Garbage and I'm so ashamed it's not even funny

[digitalproducts4all]

Abstract Red and Black Comforter - Cozy Bedding

About product

Abstract Red and Black Comforter - Cozy Bedding for Modern Bedrooms. This comforter exudes a cozy and modern vibe, perfect for adding a pop of color to your bedroom decor. Ideal for those who appreciate contemporary design and want to stay warm and stylish during the colder months. Relevant for holidays, celebrations, or occasions where a cozy and stylish bedroom setup is desired. Product features - 100% Polyester for softness and sophistication - Double square quilting pattern for stability - Vibrant colors for bright and crisp designs - Lightweight material for easy handling - One-sided print for a bold statement Care instructions - Machine wash: cold (max 30C or 90F), gentle cycle - Bleach as needed - Tumble dry: low heat - Do not iron - Dryclean

Get this product NOW

[lakesandquarries]

i could make one of those cute interactive threads on twitter just with stuff from my own life and the thought is making me feel really good about myself lol

[more-than-a-princess]

@mechatiqe asked: [ 12 ] a lonely bus stop at 2am, (except kaz is snoozing away on the bench there)

Various Settings/Location Prompts - Accepting!

It was one of the few times Sonia would let her perfect posture slip: where no one could see her, or paid enough attention or care to tell her otherwise. In the back of the black car, with its tinted windows and bulletproof exterior, she leaned against the leather seats after fastening her seatbelt, driver and bodyguard in the front. Upscale parties that stretched late into the night, even after a full day of classes, were a test to both her nerves and her stamina. As soon as she'd been free to leave Miss Yukizome's homeroom, her private tutoring sessions for the day had been entirely devoted to primping for that night's gala: skin and hair and nails and makeup, well before she even donned her gown and jewelry that had been painstakingly selected for her via video call at home. Every bit of her appearance, from her looks to her gestures to her words, had to send just the right message to the organizers and attendees: that Princess Sonia of Novoselic was inquisitive and respectful of their culture and customs, not appropriative, and she was delighted to represent her father in all sorts of polite chit-chat, photographs, and dances when requested. Of course, a speech was expected as well, in nothing less than flawless Japanese delivered with the brightest smile.

No pressure, save for the ones that cut into her heels and toes. Weight of the diamonds and emeralds at her ears, neck, and wrist aside, it was her shoes that brought along the aches and pains. As the car turned a corner onto a busier road, well away from the tucked-away mansion in the city's most expensive area, she reached down to unbuckle the small straps around each ankle, letting out a sigh of relief as she kicked the glittery shoes aside.

"Are you more at ease now, Your Royal Highness?" A question in Italian came from up front. Insistent that Sonia not muck up the event, her mother had sent over a guard from Novoselic personally recommended and vetted by her family's head of security who would be certain to keep the Princess in line and on task in the absence of her personal secretary. In public, anyway: in the privacy of the car, Luca hadn't given a single care to how his client slouched in her dress, one that easily cost a three month's salary for the average Japanese office worker, against the seat or how she so easily discarded the shoes her mother had insisted upon. By a coveted French designer that pinched and prodded Sonia's toes.

"Very much so, Luca, I feel as if I might finally breathe today," She smiled, knowing it would be reflected in the rearview mirrors. Breathing, much less eating, were secondary and tertiary activities in her gown, considering how fitted it was through the bodice, but for now she didn't mind. Soon enough she'd be back in the safety and comfort of her dorm, her gown hung on its satin-padded hanger, while she dug into the chicken karaage, onigiri, and sweets the chauffeur had picked up for her from the konbini and that all three of them had made a pact not to tell her family about later. She deserved indulgences here and there, even if they were ones the Novoselic Royal Family didn't approve of.

Just like extending a helping hand when it couldn't be recorded for future posterity, or at least a necessary PR campaign in the wake of a scandal. As they pulled up to a stoplight, Sonia glanced out her window, her tired eyes suddenly no longer feeling so tired. A familiar shade of hot pink, of black lined eyes and a hat and jumpsuit: Kazuichi Soda looked far less animated than his usual self in her presence. On the contrary, he seemed to be waiting for a bus, fast asleep. A bus, she noticed after rolling down the window and sticking out her beautifully-coiffed head to read the sign beside the bench, that likely wasn't coming: the bus ended its route nearly two hours prior, if the sign beside him was accurate.

Sonia frowned. She couldn't very well leave him there, but this was Kazuichi she was considering. Their friendship, for all intents and purposes, was a relatively new development of relatively new mutual respect: he no longer called her Miss Sonia or put her on a pedestal, and she no longer referred to him as her stalker and pursued a restraining order. They were navigating uncharted waters, so to speak, and the last thing either of them needed was for him to read into a situation for something that wasn't there. Still, it would be cruel to simply drive by and allow him to sleep on a bench.

She cleared her throat, having made her decision. "Soda-san!" She called from the car. To no avail, it seemed, before she quickly instructed her driver to remain idle by the bus stop for a few moments longer. Nodding in satisfaction, she stuck her head back out the window again: was she truly going to 'cat call' him? That was what it was, right? When people hung their heads out the window to garner the attention of someone else?

"Soda Kazuichi-san!" She spoke again, this time louder, with full intent to wake him and anyone else in a fifty meter radius. "What are you doing out here so late? I am afraid the buses have stopped driving their routes ages ago. But if you would like, I am happy to share my car with you back to Hope's Peak Academy."