#Quiet Air Purifier

[curekahealthcarestore]

Beurer LR 330 2-in-1 Comfort Air Purifier

Beurer 2-in-1 Comfort Air Purifier will leave the air in your home clean, odorless, and comfortable to breathe, as well as living in a healthy environment. It uses an ultra-effective 3-layer filter to purify the air in any room while also humidifying, leaving the air clean, smelling fresh, and breathable.

https://www.cureka.com/shop/healthcare-devices/daily-living-aids/air-purifier/beurer-lr-330-2in-1-comfort-air-purifier/

[sainte666]

Me months ago to my partner: Yeah I feel pretty good about our air change per hour rates with the two big air purifiers (and a corsi rosenthal box, now semi defunct and a small Levoit purifier)

Me today: I NEED ANOTHER BIG AIR PURIFIER

[rubyekinc]

https://bit.ly/3S9egpW An anti-gravity air moisturizer is a type of humidifier that uses advanced technology to suspend a water reservoir in mid-air, creating the illusion that it is floating or levitating. This unique design not only adds a futuristic and stylish look to any room but also eliminates the need for a bulky base or stand, making it a space-saving option. Additionally, the device releases a fine mist of water vapor into the air, which helps to increase humidity levels and alleviate dry air symptoms such as dry skin, chapped lips, and sinus congestion. Overall, an anti-gravity air moisturizer is a functional and visually striking way to humidify the air in your home or office.

[gearbraininc]

Here is a powerful and effective smart air purifier for large rooms.  It's by Rabbit Air.

[nerdangels]

I wish i didnt need large fan loud white noise 5 hour video to fall asleep

[alpha-dash1998]

A Breath of Fresh Air: My Experience with the Breezy+ Air Purifier

[ikramtipu23]

LEVOIT Air Purifiers for Home Large Room, Smart WiFi Alexa Control, H13 True HEPA Filter, Removes 99.97% of Pollutants, Covers up to 915 Sq.Foot, 24dB Quiet Cleaner for Bedroom, Core 200S, White

WORKS WITH ALEXA Add voice control by combining with an Alexa device See More ColorCream WhiteBrandLEVOITProduct Dimensions8.07″D x 8.07″W x 12.6″HPower SourceACItem Weight6.6 Pounds About this item OZONE FREE: Our most popular air purifier series is back with an all-new smart model. Levoit air purifiers avoid using UV-C light, which is especially harmful for Asthma sufferers and…

[jsms01]

Instant Pot HEPA Quiet Air Purifier with Plasma Ion Technology for Rooms up to 1,940ft2, removes 99% of Dust, Smoke, Odors, Pollen & Pet Hair, for Bedrooms, Offices, & More, Pearl

Price: (as of - Details) Instants Air Purifier uses sophisticated technology to deliver cleaner air, giving you peace of mind. It also removes 99.9% of other viruses and bacteria from treated air. (2 see above) And the built-in sensors monitor the air quality and adjust the fan speed automatically, to work 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. (3 see above) The advanced filtration system includes a HEPA-13 filter with carbon layer that captures 99.97% of dust, dander, smoke, and other ultrafine impurities in the air and helps reduce smells.Plasma ion technology projects positive and negative ions for cleaner air. Instant Air Purifier starts delivering cleaner air in minutes and completely recycles the room’s air 5 times per hour. (5 see above) With Instant Air Purifier, you’ll inhale cleaner air, and exhale peace of mind. And it comes from the makers of Instant Pot, with all the quality, convenience, and versatility you’ve come to expect from Instant. NOT AVAILABLE FOR SALE IN INDIANA. CLEAN AIR IN MINUTES: Filters up to 630 SQFT per hour, and AHAM-Verified to exchange 126 SQFT 5 times per hour, allowing you to breathe cleaner air in minutes. AUTO MODE: Automatically senses the air quality and adjusts the fan speed according to detected quality. Digital read out of % air quality and light band indicates when air quality is good-white, okay-orange, or poor-red, and adjusts to get back to good. ODOR REDUCER: Activated carbon filter layer helps decreasing unpleasant smells, allowing your rooms or office space to be refreshed. WHISPER-QUIET: Light sensor automatically turns off displays and lowers noise to whisper-quiet levels when it is time for bed. ENERGY STAR CERTIFIED: Eco mode cycles the fan on and off every 10 minutes, if air quality is detected good for 30 minutes, allowing 50% energy reduction. LONG LASTING FILTER: Our high quality air filter can last up to 12 months and changing it is effortless! Unhinge the bottom of the purifier and swap out your old filter and swap in a new Instant Air Purification Replacement Filter. Read the full article

[syoddeye]

unedited 400 word ghost x reader thing. dark!

cw: abduction and captivity, noncon touching

ghost shares a "i found this hidden room while renovating" photo album to a forum.

the first post only has two pictures, one of a banged-up, dingy wooden panel leaning against a wall. another of an old steel door with an archaic-looking padlock. it goes viral overnight.

he ignores the hundreds of comments and direct messages pleading with him to update. he posts a week later, feigning surprise that folks are interested. he explains it took him a while to pop the lock and pry the door open, but he shares a second album.

the room beyond the hidden door is decently sized and all cement. no working lights, so he's set up a camping lantern on a folding chair he found inside. the pictures are...unsettling. a rusted bed frame with a thin, warped mattress discolored by something. a central floor drain ringed by what must be years of stains. a metal bucket. however, most commenters are horrified by the last picture, the one with the tally marks. a gloved finger cuts off the frame, but eagle-eyed viewers count at least three hundred.

people say he's unlucky, he's purchased a murder house. that someone was obviously kept there against their will. that it's probably haunted. the discourse spirals and explodes, with conspiracy theories flooding his inbox.

and ghost plays into their concern. he asks if the house can be purged or purified, and if he should contact the authorities. he posts about how he sunk a lot of money into the place so far and would hate to lose his home.

some are kind and dumb enough to offer their services. spiritualists. clairvoyants. a few religious types. he wades through their messages with a grin, shifting you on his lap as he reads them aloud. asks if it upsets you, how his stupid bait albums garnered more attention than the missing persons post your boyfriend made. when you don't answer, trying to keep your sniveling quiet, he checks on the facebook group for your case. no updates in ninety days and counting. looks like everyone's moved on. your man certainly has, judging by the new girl in his profile, so why don't you?

that night, he deletes the account from his phone. you stir in your sleep, face contorted with nightmares, little puffs of air wetting the silk covering your mouth. he watches, rapt. as if he'd ever let you sleep in a basement when you were made to warm his bed.

he traces your cheek with a finger. if any of the armchair sleuths somehow manage to track the location of that room, they'll find it long gone. buried under a decade of construction. but he's confident in how he's covered his tracks. after all, nobody's found you.

[the-kr8tor]

Hobie nurses you back to health.

Feat: the cats

Pairing: Hobie Brown x f!reader / Spider-Punk x f!reader

Word count: 2.2k

Tags: no use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, fluff, description of sickness, established relationship.

My Masterlist

A continuation of this fic but you don't need to read it to understand this one.

*I don't consent to having my work translated/ published on other platforms*

Carefully swinging from building to building, Hobie clutches the fragile bag in his hand, careful not to spill a drop of the precious chicken soup from your favourite deli.

Before he left for patrol in the morning, you already felt the sickness crawling in your throat, so much so you didn't kiss Hobie goodbye that morning, in case you got him sick. He didn't want to leave you alone at first, but you insisted that it's probably just hay fever. And you're not alone, you've got your three little gremlins with you to keep you company.

You know that the city needed Spider-Punk more than you needed your boyfriend. That's why Hobie's so adamant in taking care of you now that his patrol is over, and all seems to be quiet around the city. All his attention is now on you, and making you better.

Hobie finally reaches your flat, he perches himself on your fire escape, peeking through your dimly lit bedroom, he sees your folded form buried under a mountain of blankets. Your air purifier puffs out clouds directly at your contorted face. He hates seeing you like this, he should've taken a break in his patrol, if it weren't for this week's villain, he would've had the time to check up on you.

He feels bad leaving you alone in this state.

Hobie opens your window, a gust of much needed fresh air enters your room, an orange glow hits your face directly.

You groan in your bed when the late afternoon sun shines directly at your sensitive eyes; shielding yourself from the light, you turn around lifting the heavy blankets over your head.

Hobie lifts his mask over his head "Hey, I bought you chicken soup" he softly says in case your ears are also sensitive.

" 'm not hungry" your voice muffled by the blankets over your face.

Hobie looks at the discarded bottle of medicine, empty packets of paracetamol, and a moist rag next to your bed. But no dirty plates or glass near you, you haven't eaten anything since he left.

Hobie sits down next to you, before he settles down, he hears a hiss on top of your body.

Crowley opens his bright emerald eyes, the only thing that Hobie sees of the cat; with the dark blankets and dimly lit room, Crowley's fur perfectly camouflages on top of you. The little dark void stands up as if he's challenging Hobie.

"Oi, we're on the same side, I'm gonna take care of her" Hobie scolds the hell spawn.

Your arm reaches out of the mountain of blankets to pet Crowley, calming him down.

Hobie grabs the end of the blanket, pulling it down to see your face. He touches your forehead lightly to feel your temperature. You're hot, dangerously so, even with his glove he still feels the warmth.

"Fuck lovey, you're burning up" Hobie's voice echoes with concern.

"Hmm?" You look at him with your half lidded eyes. "Hey baby, when'd you get here?" You're delirious, you feel like your mouth's full of cotton, hot air comes out of your nose.

"Shit, we need to lower your temperature" he leaves the soup on top of your side table, tissues and bottles fall on the floor to make room for the warm soup.

He leaves briefly to go to your bathroom, filling up your bathtub with cold water. Crowley makes biscuits on your blanket covered chest.

Hobie comes back, seeing the scene in front of him he stops for a moment to take a mental picture of it. He rushes to you flipping your blankets away from you, Hobie sees in his peripheral that Crowley moved away before getting smacked in the face. That's definitely gonna bite him back, literally and figuratively. He'll apologize to him later, right now he needs to get you to your bathtub ASAP.

When the blankets are pulled away from you, a chill runs through you, a second later heat rushes throughout your body. You feel hot and cold at the same time. The fever clouds your mind; you mumble in Hobie's chest as he carries you.

Hobie carefully sits you down on the edge of the tub, he crouches down next to you with a wet rug in his hand. You can hear the loud rush of water behind you.

"Hnng" You cover your sensitive ears, Hobie sees your reaction, he quickly shuts off the tap, concern on his face.

He carefully holds your chin up so you're facing him. "This is gonna be cold, I'm sorry" he dabs the cloth on your forehead, testing your reaction.

You instinctively flinch away from the cold, "oww" Your joints cry out in pain, every muscle in your body protests against the cold rag. But you don't flinch away when he lays the cold rag against your collarbone.

"That's it, lovey, taking it like a champ"

Hobie opens a couple of buttons on your pajama shirt so he could wipe your chest. He hears a mewl from behind him, Crowley sits elegantly on your countertop, eyes judging Hobie.

Hobie looks over his shoulder, "yeah, yeah I'm being careful" He talks to your cat like he understands his meows.

Crowley answers with a louder meow "Yes, I will wipe behind her bloody ears, d' you think you could do any better?" Hobie raises the rag towards Crowley.

Crowley scrunches his nose at the rag, "I didn't think so" Hobie squares off with your cat, Hobie continues to carefully wipe your arms as Crowley stares daggers at his back.

You stare at Hobie curiously, in your state you have no idea if you're just imagining your boyfriend having an argument with your cat.

You hold on to Hobie's strong shoulder, getting his attention. "Are you fighting with Crowley?" You tilt your head questioningly.

Hobie smiles that you're finally aware of your surroundings, "There's my girl," he pecks your sweaty forehead. "He's being a little shit, that's why"

Your eyes widen "you can understand him?! Is that part of your spidey powers?" You shake his shoulder weakly.

"Love," He pinches the bridge of his nose "I don't even know how to answer that" he squeezes out the excess water from the rag to trickle down on your head.

"Ack! Hobie!" You glare daggers at him, mimicking what Crowley might look like behind him.

"Just a little bit of water," he wipes little droplets off your eye lids with his thumb. "How do you feel? Better, yeah?"

You drop your head on his shoulder with a thud, "tired" you sigh, snuggling further into the crook of his neck.

Hobie hugs you, he kisses the side of your head affectionately, rubbing your back he feels your fever sweat through your thin pajama shirt.

You cringe when you feel him tugging up at your drenched shirt, "I'm sorry, I'm such a mess" your voice vibrates against Hobie's skin.

"Don't be, this is nothing compared to what I've seen 'round pubs" he cradles your head, moving stray hairs away from your tacky skin. "I need to change you out of those clothes, yeah?"

"If you wanted to rip my clothes off, you should have said so" you teasingly said with your hoarse voice.

Hobie chuckles at your sense of humor, despite your sickness. "When you're better, I'll do just that"

Lifting your head away from his shoulder, you stare at him lovingly "I better get… better then" fumbling over your words. You give him your sickenly sweet smile.

After a change of clothes, a much needed toothbrush and change of linens; Hobie guides you back to bed, with Crowley following closely behind.

"Good, the soup's still hot"

Recognizing the packaging of the soup, you instantly perk up "Is that from Tom's deli?"

"Yeah, you should have seen old Tom's face when I came in as Spider-Punk" he sits down next to you as you prop yourself up to a sitting position.

"Did he look giddy?" You make grabbing hands towards the tupperware. You feel a little bit better, still feverish though.

"Giddy as a school girl, he even asked for a bloody selfie" Hobie opens the lid, the familiar savory smell wafts through your room, relaxing your muscles.

You giggle at the mental image, "did he get it? The picture with you?"

"Yeah, in exchange he didn't let me pay for it, even though I was shoving him money"

You imagine the entire interaction between the two, both being stubborn as they are, you would pay money to see it.

Hobie takes a spoonful of the soup, blowing on it carefully before he feeds it to you. You don't protest, even though you feel good enough to feed yourself. Hobie's being so sweet and sensitive you let it slide this time.

You haven't seen this side of him before, sure he's always sweet on you, but this? He's been so attentive to your needs and your pain, you can't help but love him even more. You never heard a single complaint or scolding for making him take care of you, just for that you're already thankful for. You feel his love shine through with every caress, and concerned look.

As you swallow the soup, you can't help when a sob breaks through, fat tears slide down your cheeks.

"Shit, was it still hot?" Crowley loudly meows at Hobie, as if to say: what did you do now? Hobie ignores the cat. "Love, are you okay? Where are you hurting?"

You shake your head, "nothing hurts, it's silly, I'm sorry" you wipe your tears with your sleeves as you avoid eye contact.

Hobie puts down the bowl on the nightstand to carefully cup your tear stained cheeks. "Hey, it's not silly, please tell me. Y'know you can tell me anything" his heart hurts with every tear you let out, "if you're not ready to tell me it's okay, just know I'm here, yeah?"

You finally look at him with a brave face, you exhale and finally let it go "I love you" you feel heat behind your eyes, the fever's crawling up again. "So much Hobie Brown, and it's not the fever talking. It's okay if you don't say it back, just wanted you to know"

Saying it loudly for the first time turns your arms and legs into jelly, the three words send shivers down your spine. And yet you stare at him directly, waiting for his reaction.

He feels slightly offended at your last comment, how dare you think he doesn't love you enough to not say it back to you. "You're a bloody idiot"

Your face falls, before you could think of the worst, he kisses you suddenly, it's messy and fast, your teeth clashing with his, you feel his lip ring against your lips. Pulling away first, breathlessness clings to you, if it wasn't for the flu affecting your lungs you would've lasted longer.

Hobie holds your face tenderly "Fuck you for ever thinking that I won't say it back," He swipes at the beads of sweat on your forehead, "Because I've said it a hundred times in my head. I love you" he kisses your tacky cheeks, "I love you," he pecks your nose, you chuckle at his kisses. "I love you," he kisses the corner of your eye "I love you, so fucking much" he confesses.

You let out a sigh of relief, holding the back of his neck as you guide him towards your shoulder, hugging him tightly you feel the roughness of his suit. He sighs into your hug, he feels a heavy weight lifted off his shoulders. You wish you could hold him in your arms forever, protected and loved.

The other two cats trudge in your room nonchalantly. Hobie feels eyes on his back, he cranes his neck to look at Crowley.

Crowley stares at Hobie, he moves his tail from side to side before he curls against himself. While Crumpet and Teacup jump over to your nightstand to smell your soup.

"He's warming up to you" you sniff while caressing his cheek.

"He watched over you, while I was gone. Can't say the same thing to those two though" Hobie moves his head towards the couple sniffing at your food. "Oi bloody leeches, couldn't even bother watching over your sick mum, huh"

Teacup jumps at Hobie's raised voice, while Crumpet's paw wipes at her face. Hobie translates that action to being ashamed from his scolding.

"Yeah, you better be ashamed" Hobie glares at the two cats.

"Stop picking fights with them" you giggle.

He reluctantly pulls away from your warmth, "they deserve a scolding" Hobie grabs the bowl again "now let's get you up and running again, yeah?"

You nod, grinning ear to ear.

—

A few weeks later, with Hobie's help you're finally strong enough to go jogging again. After your run, you head towards Tom's deli to grab your usual. To your surprise, you see Spider-Punk and Tom's picture above the stove, Hobie holding your soup in his hand while his free arm hangs over Tom's shoulders,Tom widely smiles making a peace sign. Tom sees you staring at the picture, he skips over to you, telling the story behind the picture while he shows it off, pride coating his voice. Your smile gets bigger with every wild gesture he makes.

A/n: hope you liked it! And yes Crowley is named after Neil Gaiman's Crowley. As always likes and reblogs are appreciated ❤️❤️❤️

*picture above is from pinterest*

[rubyekinc]

https://bit.ly/3S9egpW An anti-gravity air moisturizer is a type of humidifier that uses advanced technology to suspend a water reservoir in mid-air, creating the illusion that it is floating or levitating. This unique design not only adds a futuristic and stylish look to any room but also eliminates the need for a bulky base or stand, making it a space-saving option. Additionally, the device releases a fine mist of water vapor into the air, which helps to increase humidity levels and alleviate dry air symptoms such as dry skin, chapped lips, and sinus congestion. Overall, an anti-gravity air moisturizer is a functional and visually striking way to humidify the air in your home or office. Anti-gravity, Humidifier, Air Purifier, Dehumidifier, Portable, Quiet, Ultrasonic Technology, Essential Oil Diffuser, Aromatherapy, Healthy living, Home comfort, Energy efficient, Easy to use, Automatic shut-off, LED light, Health and wellness, Innovative technology, Allergies, Asthma, Dry air, Indoor air quality, Moisture control, Compact design, Mist output control.

[guiltysungho]

— boynextdoor when you need help to sleep

genre : tags. fluff, suggestive (18+), established relationship, comfort (?)

wordcount. 150 - 300

a/n. you might feel the quality degrade as you continue but i really just wanted to post something. its not too bad i hope, enjoy 😭

@onedoornet

sungho is used to your tossing and turning in bed whenever falling asleep becomes a task, and whether it’s a nap or full night’s rest he knows what to do to get your melatonin up.

he’ll keep you close, enough to feel body rise with each tired breath. gentle pats on your head as he sings a sweet melody to you, humming the instrumental part quietly for you to travel with the sound.

earlier in your relationship you had told him about this song, your childhood nights filled the same harmony he sung to you. he’d learnt the song just for you, for nights like this one when sleeping wasn’t so easy.

you remember the first night you heard the song from him, such a cherished memory. you dreamt of wonders that night, of you and him in a fairytale where that song played throughout the kingdom.

even when he was away from home where he couldn’t hold you, his voice would still be at your reach. after seeing how much you enjoyed his singing, he’d recorded the song for you, saving it on your phone so you could always sleep soundly even when you were miles apart.

when you can’t sleep neither can riwoo, he needs to see you sleeping soundly for the slumber to settle in. he doesn’t know exactly how to make you fall asleep but he tries to figure it out based on general opinions.

so when it’s time to sleep the whole mood in the room switches. rain ambiance noises added to a white noise in the background, cool toned led lights, air purifier, assuming at least one thing would work so got everything.

most of the time you end up laughing, watching him put on every appliance in the room to set the mood right just makes you smile. checking with you on the settings, asking if you want to change the rain sounds to fire place sounds since its winter.

while laughing doesn’t help you sleep, whenever you did fall asleep you were at ease. no matter what happened in the day, you could look forward to the sleeping sessions because of the joy they brought.

at times he would go the extra length and start counting sheep out loud for the both of you, giggling together at each number when you should be sleeping.

the truth was you knew exactly how to fall asleep, you’d fall asleep in the first couple minutes, just lying down on his chest, arm around his torso, but you liked the whole drama of it all so you would let it happen.

jaehyun is like a homemade podcast, you’ll lay there between his thighs while he tells you all about everything. sometimes he’d tell you about his day, depending on how interesting it was and other times he’d tell stories.

he knows you like listening to him so plays with that, telling you all sorts of things that grow more unbelievable as he goes on. at times you’re unsure if he is even saying coherent words or just making sounds that sound like words.

it never did bother you though, if anything you loved it the more incoherent, the easier the slumber came. you would let him play with your hair as he told a story you’d never heard of before, braiding it to the best of his abilities.

something about having his fingers tangled up in your hair and his voice so close to your ears made sleeping such an easy task, you wonder how it was ever hard for you.

you’d fall asleep to his sweet voice, bedtime stories from your one and only. even when he’s far from you he finds a way to make it work, late night calls were he'd just take you along with him, narrating his every movement.

he knows by your soft hums through the line that it works just as well so he continues till all he can hear is your quiet snoring.

slow relaxing tunes fill your room whenever it’s bedtime. you get so close together under the sheets, cuddling as you let the music transport you to a deep slumber.

most of the time that’s all you need to fall asleep, his arms around you and sweet melodies playing from the speaker. the only downside being that it wasn’t an immediate solution to your insomnia.

for taesan there’s only one way to help you sleep immediately and if the tiredness is too much for you he’s always willing to help with a little stimulation. he’ll help you relax completely and release all tension from your body.

he finds it cute the way you always fall asleep immediately after an orgasm, the way your small hands would wrap around his wrist when you felt it coming and stay wrapped there once you passed out. if you need an orgasm to fall asleep he'll give it you with the most pleasure.

whenever it came to it his main focus would be you, wanting you to feel the most pleasure so the slumber could settle as soon as you orgasm. he plays with your most sensitive parts, teasing and pleasing you, kissing you wherever you ask for it.

when you finally finish your eyes are already shut as you slowly regain your breath falling into a deep sleep. he gives you a kiss on the forehead to telling you did well before letting you sleep comfortably.

leehan is particularly gentle with you when you're sleepy, to be honest he enjoys listening to your little yawns and groans that come whenever you were tired so he's a little more unserious in his ways of helping.

when you're tired in bed with him he'll whisper to you while you're craddled in his arms but it's more of an asmr session that a soothing moment. while his gentle touches help you relax, the sound of his voice by your ear whispering the script to a cartoon movie keeps the sleepyness from reaching it summit.

occasionally he will add sound effects to the show, mimicking sounds of bubbles with his mouth and flicking his cheek with his finger to remake the sound of water drops, trying his best to not burst out into laughter.

so most nights instead of sleeping you're giggling in a dark room with your boyfriend whispering the script of nemo to you telling you to imagine the movie while he narrates. with all the laughing you do you always end up falling asleep in the middle of his story, imagining your self in the movies.

he never lets you miss out on his late night asmr, even when he isn't with you he send you voice memos whispering to you in the most erotic way while telling you to tuck yourself in bed tight. giving you some sort of guided meditation session so you can sleep soundly.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Dirty Work 23

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as bullying, familial discord/abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You start a new gig and find one of your clients to be hard to please.

Characters: Loki

Note: what up my slutty butties!

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You help Leslie bring out the plates. You set one before Mr. Laufeyson as Leslie puts one down before an empty chair. You can hear your dad muttering at his puzzle. Your boss is unfazed as he smugly sits waiting.

"Offer him something to drink while I get your father," Leslie lowers her voice, turning her back to your guest, "I know you didn't have a mother around but have some common courtesy."

You flinch, injured by her unnecessary remark. Sometimes she says things that sting, just like your father. You suppose that's why they get along so well. She sidesteps you and enters the front room, announcing her presence gaily as she calls your father's name.

"Mr. Laufeyson," you face him sheepishly, "would you like something to drink?"

"I suppose you haven't any cabernet," he snorts. You clamp your lip tightly in humiliation. "I am driving so I suppose it wouldn't matter, you have water, yes? It will suffice."

"Yes, Mr. Laufeyson," you answer and spin away, fleeing to the kitchen behind the shield of the simple task.

You take a glass from the cupboard, checking to make sure it's clear and clean, and fill it from the filtered jug in the fridge. You return to the dining room as Leslie helps your father in. He bats her hand off his arm and grunts as he drops into an empty chair across from Mr. Laufeyson. You put the water in front of your boss and peek over at your dad.

"Dad, do you want something--"

"No," he barks as he snatches his fork, poking at the seasoned turnip, "what is this shit?" He sniffs, "smells like garbage."

You sit and balance at the edge of your chair, not paying any mind to the food before you.

"Charlies, don't be rude," Leslie claims a seat of her own, "Loki's mother was so kind to send this over to us."

"I don't know her," your father growls.

"Can't complain for free food, can we?" Leslie girds gently and sends a smile to Laufeyson, "it's been a tough day for him. The humidity really bothers him."

"Would you be quiet?" Your father snaps, "I can speak for myself and I'm just damn fi--"

Your father breaks out into another storm of coughs. He hits the table and braces it, his fork clattering as he struggles to catch his breath. Mr. Laufeyson sits placidly, picking up his knife and fork, and cutting into the pork loin.

"My, you do sound rather terrible," he says as he pokes a morsel of meat in the air on the tines. 

"He'll be fine, he just needs to catch his breath," Leslie assures.

"Mm, have you thought of an air purifier? It might do this place some good?" Laufeyson suggests with a curl of his lip, biting into the pork.

"Mr. Fucking Fancy Pants," your dad slaps his own chest as he finds his voice, "what do you know? You ain't some doctor walking in here telling me how to breathe."

"I have several degrees so I could claim the title, I suppose," Laufeyson taunts, "I always thought it a bit pompous, however."

"Ah, go off and buy another set of tits," your father snarls.

"You are such a loving father, aren't you?" Laufeyson goads.

"Good enough to know yours never smacked you hard enough," your dad retorts.

Silence. You look at Leslie as she peers between the men, a frigid smile frozen on her face. You bat your lashes as you teeter and grip the table.

Your dad takes his fork again and scoops up a soft chunk of turnip. He puts it in his mouth, making a face as he tastes it then gags and spits it out. It flies across the table onto Laufeyson's plate. Your brows rise as Leslie's expression mirrors your shock.

"Tastes like garbage too. That mother of yours must be just as much a disappointment to your father as you," your dad chortles at his own insult, hacking into another fit.

Mr. Laufeyson sets his fork down. He sighs and slides his plate away. He stares down your father as he sets his back straight.

"As much as you are to your daughter, I'm sure."

"Mr. Laufeyson," you squeak.

"Get--" your father coughs and chokes, fighting to get to his feet, his stomach hitting the table and rattling the dishes, "the fuck--" cough -- "out of my house."

"Is that what you call this place?" Laufeyson remains seated, glancing around derisively.

Leslie gasps, "sir, now you are too much, we welcomed you in--"

"I wasn't aware your job included nursing his bruised ego," Laufeyson shoots in her direction, "don't remind me of etiquette. I brought you all more than the scraps you have in the back of that dingy fridge. Of course, you wouldn't have the taste or sense to know good food."

"I said GET OUT!" Your father hollers so hard he sways, his voice scratching at its peak.

"Dad," you stand up, "Mr. Laufeyson, please, you need to go--"

"Take your own advice," he stands and scoffs in your father's direction.

"Stop, please, he's my dad--"

"Oh yes, I've heard it before," Laufeyson sneers, "and I heard you beg him just the same before he--"

"No!" You exclaim, "no, leave. Now. Please--"

"You needn't convince me further," Mr. Laufeyson strides around the table, "Chuck," he stops next to your father as he puffs, grasping the chair for support, "try not to choke on your own vitriol."

He pats your dad arm, causing him to recoil and fall onto the chair. Leslie rushes over to him as you stand dumbfounded. You hoped the day wouldn't get worse and yet, you can't say you didn't expect it. Even so, it hits you like a car at full speed and knocks the wind out of you. You don't know what to do.

"Have a good night," Mr. Laufeyson says at the door, "however pleasant it could ever be in a rat-infested hole like this." He looks at you, "thank you for this lovely dinner."

He turns and struts out. You shake your head as adrenaline courses through you, burning around your lungs and hammering in your chest. You look over at your father as he continues to cough violently.

"Dad..." you try to go to him.

"Haven't you done enough?" Leslie snaps as she lashes you with a glare. You wince and stumble back.

"I didn't--"

"He's right about you, isn't he?" She snarls, "you're just an ungrateful brat."

"No--"

"Go!" Your father forces through his choking gasp, "you little bitch!"

Your lip trembles as the room spins. You twirl away without a second thought, horrified and humiliated. You run out into the hallway and barrel up the stairs, sobbing by the time you get to the top step. Mr. Laufeyson has ruined everything. Your job, your family, and your entire life.

You thought you had nothing before, how wrong you were.

✨

 You cry yourself to sleep, just like many nights before. Your head swirls with rippled visions of angry eyes and shadowy figures. You drown in the thick unconscious, nearly suffocated with terror as you're paralysed against the virulent nightmares.

You wake only as a crash splinters your sleep. You sit up, heaving for air as you see a dark figure eerily similar to the one in your dreams. You blink until you can, the light of the hallway glowing in the limn your father's portly figure.

He drags out the next drawer from your dresser and dumps it over the pile mounded on the floor. He staggers as he drops the plywood and kicks it aside. He leans on the handle of his oxygen tank as you reach for your lamp.

"Dad? What are you--"

He struggles to reach for the bottle by his feet. He lifts it and wobbles as he untwists the cap. He overturns the bottle of bleach onto the heap of clothes, kicking them around as the stringent chemical spills out. You watch as he ruins the layers of new clothing and cry out as you bounce to the foot of the bed.

"What are you doing!?" You shriek.

"Whore's clothes," he tosses the bottle on top, "you... bring your pimp in here like the slut you are--"

"Dad," you whimper but have no words. He's not so far off after all. You look down at the clothes and the pale stains of the bleach patching across the fabric, "dad, I'm sorry. I tried-- I was only--"

"I don't care," he grits, "I'm done with you. You been..." he takes a deep breath, clasping his chest, "mooching off me for thirty years. You sucked the life outta me--" he gasps again, "look what you done to me," he tugs at the tube that trails down his chest, "this is your fault. You killed me just like you did your mother."

"No, no, no," you touch your cheeks as they burns and your tears fall free, "please, don't say that."

It's another nightmare. It has to be. You're still sleeping. This can't be real.

"Dad," you stand and reach for him, "don't be mad--"

He hits you. Not hard, he can't. He's too weak. You flinch and back away, cowering as you cradle your head. He looks around, his head bobbling and grabs the hardcover book from atop your dresser.

He nears you as you shrink down, stunned into helplessnness. He grips the book with both hands and swings it at you. The first strikes doesn't wake you. It's real. 

He hits you, over and over, the sharp corner jabbing into your cheek and chin, then the side thumping across your shoulder and against your side. He keeps on until he can't.

He drops the book and coughs, bending over as he slips to one knee. You watch him, tears streaming into your hands as you babble like a child. 

"Daddy," you murmur.

"You get out or I'll call... the goddamn... police," he braces the oxygen tank and forces himself up. "This isn't your home no more." He limps and drags the tank to the door, "it never was.”

✨

You don't know what to do. You can barely stop crying long enough to think. The heavy bags weigh down your steps as you wander mindlessly to the corner and stop, the reality of the moment crashing down like thunder.

You drop the duffle bag and sit on it, letting your work bag hit the pavement by your feet. The sun has barely come up as you sit in the dim hue of dawn. Where do you go?

You feel yourself sinking. Your lungs are reading to shrivel and your head is going to cave in. You're lost. You have no home, you have no father, you have nothing... well, you still have a job.

You cry a little longer, until you hear the first sign of life from across the street. You get up as a man comes of a house. He doesn't notice you as you hitch up your work bag and grab the duffle from the sidewalk. You just need somewhere for a night or two. Let dad cool off and you'll apologise. It will be okay.

You walk down to the main road and catch the first bus. You have no direction, no destination. You get off as you see the marquee of the Holiday Inn. You've never stayed in a hotel, hopefully they have room for you. It seems like no one does.

You shuffle inside, tired and worn out. There's a woman behind the front desk, sitting on a chair so you can only see the top of your head. You hobble over under the weigh of your bags and wait for her to notice you. When she doesn't, you tap the bell on the counter.

"Eh?" She stands up, almost tipping over, "sorry," she yawns, "didn't hear you come in."

"Mm," you hum and chew your lips, "that's okay. Erm..."

"Do you have a reservation? Bit early... or late, to be checking in."

"No, uh, I don't," you lower your eyes, "do you have anything available?"

"Sure we do," she answers chipperly. You look at her name tag; Mindy. "I got a few singles clean and ready."

"Okay, that's good," you answer, "how much?"

"Hundred and twenty for tonight. Credit on file or three hundred cash deposit."

"Oh," you try not show your surprise, "okay, I er, think I have enough but I don't have a credit card."

"Now worries, there's an ATM," she points across the lobby.

"Thank, can I leave my bags here for a second?"

"Sure, sweetie," she turns to the computer and clicks around.

You cross to the machine and dig out your debit card. You slide it into the slot and push the firm metal buttons. Your stomach plummets as you punch in the custom amount for withdrawal. You were saving that for the mortgage and Leslie. You hit Yes and the machine whirs, spitting out a stack of bills and a receipt.

You return to the counter and hand it over. Mindy asks for your name and phone number. You give her your info, growing more weary by the moment.

"Here are your keys," she hands over a tiny paper folio, "checkout is 11am tomorrow."

"Thanks."

"Wifi info is in there, along with information about breakfast. Coffee in the room and a kettle. Oh, and microwave."

You thank her one last time and collect your bags once more. You go to the elevator and check the folio for your room number. You hit floor six and wait for the box to rise. You step off, following the wall plaques to the matching door. It's yours, just for a little bit.

You swipe the card several times before it unlocks, struggling to make it register. You push your duffle inside with your feet and put your work bag beside it as the door shuts on its own. The room is small, the walls are pasted in faded wallpapers and the bed is made with sheets that remind you of another decade.

You put the keys on the table against the wall and drag yourself to the bed. You don't really have any time to nap, you just need to get off your feet for a little.

Your restlessness doesn't let you sit long. You wear some of your old clothes, of the few pieces you salvaged from the ruin. You check yourself in the mirror. You don't bother with the makeup. Mr. Laufeyson will be disappointed either way. Besides, you shouldn't care so much what he thinks. You're just his house manager after all. You're there to do a job.

If only believing it would make it true.

You find a route that goes towards his neighbourhood. It lets you off a few blocks away and you take your time. You almost don't have a choice as your body is achy from your father's attach, new bruises rising tenderly to the surface.

You're early despite the fractured night. As you pass the cafe, you slow and glance through the window. Just one more quiet moment before you face the inevitable.

You push inside and see the same woman as last time. You give the same order as you doubt she even recognises you. She hovers her finger over the touch screen of her till, "we have a special, a rose tea latte, if you're interested."

"Oh?" You scrunch up your lips, you've never been good at saying no. "Sure, I'll try that."

You got the change to pay and frown. You shouldn't be spending what's left on a tea. You should be smarter. Maybe if you were, you wouldn't be such a loser.

You sit and stare at the pink foam. You don't know if you can do this but what other choice do you have? You could just disappear but for how long? You'll run out of money. As hard as it was to get this job, you don't think a new one would be any easier when you have one reference. A reference who you don't expect a shining review from.

You sip carefully. It's delicious. You drop your forehead into your hand as hot tears brim your eyes. You fight to constrain them, nearly quaking with the effort. Your eyes are swollen enough as it is.

You continue to drink, keeping your head down, and finish before you resign yourself to fate. To face Mr. Laufeyson. You can do this, not because you're strong, but because you have to.

[writingquestionsanswered]

I'm a teen aspiring author. I live in a house with three children and my walls and door are not very soundproof. Do you have any tips to get focused not by reducing distractions but getting focused while still being in the middle of chaos?

Focusing Despite the Chaos

Even if you can't eliminate distractions, it's still worth trying to minimize them, so I want to start there... then I'll get to what to do if you can't. Here are some things you might be able to try...

1 - Minimizing Noise - In a perfect world we could all afford a nice pair of noise cancelling headphones, but there are other ways to minimize the noise that reaches your ears. For example, many convenience stores and stores with pharmacy areas sell packets of disposable ear plugs for just a few dollars. These can reduce noise enough to make it less distracting, so definitely worth a try.

2 - Utilize Continuous Sound/"Noise Colors" - Continuous sound, like the deep rumble of a waterfall or the gentle roar of heavy rain, falls on a spectrum called noise colors. White Noise covers all frequencies equally, so it provides a soothing background hum that can help to minimize other sounds. You can find white noise generators via different apps and places like YouTube or web sites like A Soft Murmur. Or, you can put on a loud fan, air purifier, air conditioner, etc. Pink Noise is a little softer, like the fall of gentle rain, so this might be something like a fan on a lower setting. Brown noise is a step lower than that, like the ambient noise you get from having the window open on a quiet but breezy day. White, pink, or brown noise can be a great way to reduce the impact of chaos coming from the rest of the house.

3 - Put on a YouTube Ambience Room - YouTube is absolutely bursting with "ambience rooms" and channels dedicated to study music, sleep music, relaxation music, etc. These can be a fantastic way to promote focus, not only because they give you something steady to listen to, you can often find things that gel thematically with whatever you're writing, which can help you block out other distractions.

4 - Try a ZenWare Writing Program - OmmWriter, ZenWriter, Focus Writer, and others provide features that help you focus on your writing, such as simple interfaces, special typing sounds, white noise and sound generators, and word counters. These are not typically free but are usually reasonably priced.

5 - Shift Your Writing Time - Even a chaotic house has its quiet times. It could be early in the morning before everyone else is awake, late at night after everyone else is in bed, during mealtime, or when everyone is away. Pay attention to when the chaos is at its lowest each day and try to utilize those times for writing if you can.

When you can't minimize the chaos...

Any combination of the above tactics can still be great ways to help you focus a little more, even if it doesn't really reduce the noise or chaos. Just having things like a special screen or special audio to focus on can help you mentally block out distractions. To some degree, it's something that takes some trial and error--to see which tactics work for you--and practice. I know writers who can write on plans, trains, buses, car rides, in the middle of busy places... it's just something they did out of necessity and got good at with time. You will, too. ♥

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I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

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[darkbluekies]

Teddy Bear

Yandere!doctor OC x Y/N (reader) Christmas special

Summary: you can't leave the hospital for Christmas, so your very own yandere doctor decides to make it special in your room. But he seems to have darker thoughts behind the sweet gifts.

Warnings: mentions of drugs(?), loneliness, toxins, obsessive behavior

You're too weak to leave the bed nowadays. The toxins spreading in your room from the air purifier has doubled to refrain you from leaving the hospital for Christmas. Thanks to your state, he can tell your loved ones not to visit you either. Win-win. He refuses to let you spend the holidays with your family.

He's noticed that you've been very quiet since you got to know about the holiday plans changing.

You look out the window at the snowflakes falling from the sky. They look so gracious. You want to be out in it. It's Christmas eve. You should be at home, not here.

The hospital is almost empty except the patients that aren't allowed to leave. You being one of them.

Of course, Dr Kry is here as well.

A gentle knock on the door catches your attention.

"Hi, Y/N", Dr Kry says softly as he enters your room. "Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas ..."

You tense in his presence. Suspicious eyes follow him to the bed. He pulls out a stool and sits down next to you. In his hands is a pretty large wrapped present. You can't help your curiosity spreading.

"I got you a little something", he smiles and places it on your legs, over your white blanket. "I thought it'd make you a little happier."

You don't touch the gift even if you'd very much like to. Terrified of making the smallest mistake. You know what a madman Dr Kry is.

"What are you waiting for?" Dr Kry smiles. "Go on. Open it!"

That's the signal you've been waiting for. You rip of the paper as quickly as your weak hands let you. Something fuzzy meets your fingers. You open it and pick up a teddy bear with shiny, black eyes and warm smile on his little face. You don't know why, but your eyes fill with tears. It's not alive, but you still feel like it'll be a great companion in this lonely place. You wipe your tears quickly and thank the doctor quietly. If only you knew how much tranquilizer Dr Key stuffed that teddy bear with, maybe you shouldn't have thanked him. It'll keep you calm, keep you ... asleep.

"There's something more", Dr Kry smiles.

You reach into the box again and pick up a book. It's one that you haven't read before.

"I asked the lady in the book store for tips", the doctor smiles. "She said that a lot of people like that one. Have you read it?"

You shake your head and start to feel how heavy your eyelids start to become.

"I can read it for you", Dr Kry offers and takes it out of your hands. "Do you want that?"

You nod and yawn. Dr Kry smiles. He starts to read it aloud for you with a calm, lulling voice. You fall asleep after two pages. The doctor smiles and puts the book on your bedside table before giving your forehead a kiss and walking out. He locks your door behind him. No one but him should see you when you're this cute.