#Himalayan Salt Tile

[willahollandblogs]

Enhance Your Space with Premium Himalayan Salt Tiles

Himalayan salt tiles are a unique and stylish way to elevate any interior space. Whether you’re looking for a natural wellness solution or an aesthetic upgrade, Himalayan Salt Tiles provide both beauty and health benefits. As a leading salt tile exporter, manufacturer, and supplier, we offer top-quality Himalayan salt tiles for walls and other applications.

What Are Himalayan Salt Tiles?

Himalayan salt tiles are crafted from natural pink salt, mined from the foothills of the Himalayan mountains. These tiles are known for their warm, soothing glow and their ability to improve indoor air quality by releasing negative ions.

Why Choose Himalayan Salt Tiles?

Natural Air Purifier – Helps remove toxins and allergens from the air.

Aesthetic Appeal – Adds a warm, rustic, and luxurious touch to any space.

Health Benefits – May help reduce stress, improve sleep, and enhance relaxation.

Versatile Applications – Perfect for salt rooms, spas, yoga studios, and home décor.

High-Quality Salt Tile Exporter & Manufacturer

As a trusted salt tile exporter and manufacturer, we ensure our salt tiles are hand-carved with precision. We deliver high-quality pink salt tiles that are durable and enhance any interior space with their natural beauty.

Himalayan Salt Tiles for Wall Installations

If you want to create a breathtaking feature wall, Himalayan salt tiles for walls are a perfect choice. Whether for home, office, or wellness centers, these tiles provide a warm, inviting ambiance while offering health benefits.

Himalayan Salt Bricks for Custom Projects

For those looking for a more versatile building material, Himalayan Salt Bricks are ideal for customized projects. Our Himalayan Salt Bricks exporter services ensure top-quality bricks for spas, wellness centers, and decorative installations.

Why Choose Us?

Premium Quality – 100% natural, authentic Himalayan salt.

Reliable Export Services – Trusted salt tile supplier with global reach.

Customization Available – Various sizes and shapes to fit your project needs.

Competitive Pricing – High-quality products at the best rates.

Final Thoughts

Whether you’re an interior designer, wellness center owner, or looking for a unique home décor solution, Himalayan Salt Tiles and Himalayan Salt Bricks provide a perfect balance of elegance and wellness. Contact us today for premium-quality salt tiles from a trusted salt tile manufacturer, supplier, and exporter!

[buildsaltwall]

The Rise of Himalayan Salt Bricks Walls for Better Sleep

Himalayan salt bricks wall treatments aren't only a decoration that's very much in trend in your home they also come with various health advantages that can lead to better sleep and overall wellness. Himalayan salt walls are believed to provide natural, soothing, and therapeutic at-home solutions, which is why more people are looking for such for better sleep quality. This article will cover how salt walls work and what benefits they can have for your sleep environment.

What are Himalayan salt Bricks walls?

History and Origins of Himalayan Salt

This natural salt is millions of years old and has formed as the oceans evaporated in the early history of the earth. It is highly prized for its rich mineral content and unique pink color derived from iron oxide.

How Himalayan Salt Bricks Walls Are Designed?

Himalayan salt bricks walls are made from big blocks of Himalayan salt that have been deeply trimmed. They can be incorporated into anything from homes to spas, wellness centers, and beyond with aesthetic beauty and health benefits!

How Himalayan Pink Salt Walls Benefit Air Quality

3.1 Negative Ions and Their Effects

One of the biggest benefits of Himalayan salt bricks walls on sleep is its ability to release negative ions. Charged particles known to reduce the amount of pollutants in the air--these ions are particles that carry an electrical charge. Negative ions also help to neutralize dust, pollen, and other allergens, thus making the environment cleaner, which leads to better sleep.

3.2 More Oxygen Circulation in the Room

Additionally, negative ions increase the flow of oxygen in the room, thus increasing the absorption of oxygen in our blood stream. This may encourage better circulation and ultimately better sleep quality by making it easier to breathe while you sleep.”

Himalayan Salt Bricks Walls: Their Connection To Serenity

4.1 Salts and Stress Relief

Himalayan salt is said to be calming. When heated, it can produce a relaxing sensation that alleviates anxiety and tension. The salt wall fosters a peaceful ambience, signaling to your body that it’s time to unwind and making it easier to relax ahead of bedtime.

4.2 The Impact of Himalayan Salt on the Nervous System

The mineral-rich salt can additionally help both the nervous system and the elevated production of stress hormones (like cortisol). This can decrease anxiety levels and enable your mind and body to be in a more relaxed state, ideally suited to sleep.

How Himalayan Salt Walls Foster Sleep Disorders

5.1 How Salt Therapy Helps with Insomnia

Salt therapy has helped many insomniacs cope with their sleeplessness. Himalayan salt walls also aid by creating a relaxed environment that helps balance hormones and calm the mind, all essential for a good night's sleep.

5.2 Relieving Sleep Apnea Relieving

This method of Himalayan salt therapy will generally be good for those who suffer from sleeping problems, sleep apnea, snoring, etc. Salt can improve airflow, which opens the airways and allows the user to take deeper, easier breaths while sleeping.

Himalayan Salt Walls: Creating a Soothing Sanctuary

6 The Visual Appeal of Salt Walls

Not to mention that Himalayan salt bricks walls are visually impressive. Salt blocks add a beautiful, warm glow that gives any room a cozy feel. This soft, calming light is perfect for creating a mood that promotes relaxation and allows you to unwind before going to bed.

6.2 Transforming Your Personal Space Into a Spa for Ideal Slumber

You can bring the ambiance of a luxury spa to your bedroom or sleep space by adding Himalayan salt walls. This calm environment encourages mental and physical relaxation, which makes it easier to drift off into a restful night’s sleep.

The Himalayan Salt Walls and Their Impact on Mental Health

Salt Walls to Relieve Stress and Anxiety 7.1

Many people find Himalayan salt bricks walls to be very helpful for their mental health. Salt therapy has a calming effect on the body, relieving stress and anxiety, which can contribute to poor sleep. By aiding in balancing the body’s stress response, Himalayan salt walls create a soothing space for sleep.

7.2 Elevating Mood and Alleviating Emotional Fluctuations

Furthermore, Himalayan salt not only improves relaxation , but its negative ions can help elevate mood and relieve depression symptoms for an overall better emotional state. This boost in mental wellness can also lead to more solid and uninterrupted sleep.

Benefits of Himalayan Salt Walls for Sleep: Scientific Studies

8.1 The Science Behind Salt Therapy

Himalayan salt walls are known to emit negative ions, and according to studies, they can improve air quality levels, increase oxygen levels in the blood, and make a significant difference to mental health! Salt therapy is known to improve sleep in many users, as well as having positive health effects.

8.2 Evidence Linking Himalayan Salt to Sleep Improvement

Himalayan salt therapy has been scientifically proven to improve sleep patterns in individuals suffering from respiratory issues or anxiety. Studies show that salt walls have soothing effects, helping you achieve deeper, more restorative sleep.

How to Use Himalayan Salt Walls in Your Home

We Hope You Enjoy Your Experience with Lifestyle.

Himalayan salt bricks walls come in different sizes, so pay attention to how much space you have available and how much exposure you desire when choosing one for your home. Smaller walls can suit bedrooms or meditation rooms, while larger installations can have a more dramatic impact in living areas.

9.2 Placement Tips for Optimal Efficiency

To maximize the benefits your Himalayan salt wall will provide, position it where negative ions can flow easily. Make sure that the area is well-aired and that salt blocks are not blocked off by furniture or anything.

So, is a Himalayan Salt Wall the solution to enhance your sleep?

This is where Himalayan salt walls can add much more than visual appeal to your sleep environment. Scientific reasons (the health benefits, like better air quality or reduced stress, that all support respiratory health and play into sleep) combined with poetic reasons (getting outside makes you happy) encapsulate why we should get out more for sleep. A Himalayan salt wall can be a stunning and effective addition to your home if you want a natural way to improve your rest.

FAQs

How Do Himalayan Salt Bricks Walls Help with Sleep?

Himalayan salt walls, which are built with pink Himalayan salt bricks, work by emitting negative ions that purify the air while also producing a calming effect. This helps create a calm environment which may help facilitate better sleep quality.

Is Himalayan salt wall effective for insomnia?

Yes, Himalayan salt walls have calming effects that can help ease you into sleep and promote moments of sleep, which can also help ease anxiety and stress, both of which are prevalent causes of insomnia.

Can sleeping on a Himalayan salt wall cure your breathing problems?

Yes, the salt walls help clear the airways, allowing for easier, more effective breathing while sleeping, which is good for people with sleep apnea, for example.

[himalayansalters]

How Himalayan Pink Salt Bricks And Salt Tiles Are Employed Within The Home

Salt Tiles for the Perfect Home Decor Home décor can be quite expensive. The good news is that numerous inexpensive options are available. Salt Tiles has everything required to construct the most exquisite interior design imaginable. Whether you're looking to redecorate your home or simply discover a new way to enjoy your space, Himalayan pink salt products are easy to use, versatile, and beautiful.

We are all aware that design plays an important role in home décor, but we do not always consider how it will impact us. For example, we could have a beautiful painting in our home, but it would not contribute significantly to the room. Salt tiles are an excellent addition to floors, bathrooms, fireplaces, and even countertops in homes. They can serve as both a decorative and functional element.

Salt Bricks as a Home Design Essential Whether you're looking to give your home a complete transformation or simply enhance its current design, the right accessories can make a world of difference. You will be amazed at how much better your home looks when its decor reflects your overall aesthetic. However, in today's fast-paced society, it is easy to disregard décor, and it is even worse to leave it to chance. Consider Salt bricks so that you can make the best choices when selecting your next significant interior design project.

You can use Himalayan salt products to make a statement about your home and yourself. Salt Tiles are the best option if you want your home to reflect who you are and your personality. From your favorite quote to your family name, Himalayan pink salt can become a meaningful and one-of-a-kind expression that will last a lifetime.

Regarding interior design, there is in actuality no such thing as too much. When decorating their homes, the majority of individuals fail to attain a sense of aesthetic harmony.

Salt Wall

What Makes Pink Salt Home Decor Special? Despite the fact that Himalayan pink salt products are popular home decor items due to their natural salt crystals, their true allure rests in their customizability. People are willing to pay a premium to be the only ones with these exclusive tiles because they are inspired by such objects. When it comes to home decor, individuals revere unique and uncommon pieces. This holds true for domestic goods and fashion alike, including Salt Tiles. They can add an artistic flourish to your space and truly distinguish your personal style from others.

There are numerous shapes and sizes of pink salt products, but they are all fashioned to resemble natural stones. Common applications include kitchens, fireplaces, and countertops. However, they can also function as wall decor. Himalayan pink salt products are a relatively novel interior design concept. Italy invented them in the 1980s. However, they have acquired popularity among some designers since then. And it is simple to comprehend why. They add a touch of elegance, sophistication, and allure to a space.

Why Salt Tiles Are an Excellent Choice for Interior Design? Regardless of the size of the salt tile installation, it makes a statement. They come in a variety of sizes, shapes, and colors, making them the perfect kitchen or bathroom accessory. With the recent trend toward minimalist interior design, these tiles are easy to implement into your home without requiring major renovations. Additionally, they require minimal to no maintenance after installation.

Their appearance and texture are unique. Salt tiles are available in a variety of designs and sizes, including miniature and jumbo sizes. There are virtually no limitations on how pink salt products can be used in interior design, given the vast array of patterns and colors available. Himalayan pink salt can give any space a very distinctive appearance, from flooring to wall décor.

Himalayan Salt Buying Guide What will you do with Himalayan salt products now that you know their uses and advantages? Depending on your objectives, you can approach this inquiry in numerous ways. To determine your tile goals, it is helpful to have a comprehensive understanding of your bathroom renovation plan. If you want to renovate your entire bathroom, you must decide whether you prefer a modern or traditional aesthetic. After determining a design, you can select the salt tile varieties to use.

[britannianking]

Poolhouse Poolhouse Large trendy backyard l-shaped lap pool house photo

[prythiansprincess]

kiss with a fist | chapter one.

home | chapters | playlist

pairing: theodore nott x reader.

song inspiration: kiss with a fist - florence and the machine.

author's note: i'm so excited to share this series with everyone. this was literally meant to be a one shot fic but i have no self control therefore it spiraled into a whole series. without further ado, please enjoy the first chapter and let me know what you think 🤎

Wit beyond measure is a man’s greatest treasure. 

Intelligence, knowledge, wisdom. These were the traits that Ravenclaws valued most, but if the founder of your house could see you now, Rowena Ravenclaw would probably roll over in her grave. 

Because there was nothing smart about falling in love with Theodore Nott. 

In fact, it might be the most idiotic thing you’ve ever done in your entire life. 

So why did it feel so bloody exhilarating? 

To understand your descent into madness, it was prudent to trace the events back to point zero. 

It was a rainy September afternoon, unusually dreary even for the Scottish Highlands. The first week of your return to Hogwarts had been chaotic to say the least. Between performing your prefect duties by showing the first years around the castle and dealing with the clueless third year that accidentally set off Weasleys' Wildfire Whiz-bangs in the Great Hall, you were absolutely knackered by the time Friday rolled around. 

Unfortunately, you had no time to rest. Even though the term just started, you were already spending much of your nights studying until your eyes felt like they were going to fall out of your skull. Tonight, you were in the potions laboratory tackling a particularly stubborn advanced draught. No matter how hard you tried, you just couldn’t figure it out. 

You dropped a sprig of wormwood into the cauldron and stirred counterclockwise then clockwise, just like the recipe instructed. The concoction bubbled to the surface. Holding your breath, you peered into the mixture with hope that this try would finally turn out successful. The potion turned a vibrant magenta color before exploding all over the front of your uniform. 

Sadly, this was the closest you’d come to brewing the Angel’s Trumpet Draught. You sighed, wiping down your tie with a washcloth. It did nothing except make the mess worse. What you needed was a good old fashioned soak.

Luckily, you had access to the prefect’s bathroom on the fifth floor. During this time of night, it would be gloriously empty. Giving you the perfect opportunity to wallow in bubbles and self pity. 

The trek from the dungeons to the fifth floor was fortunately uneventful. The hallways were dark and quiet, allowing you to slink off to the bathroom in peace. With a whisper of pine fresh, the pearly gates opened.

You turned on the faucets, setting the temperature just below boiling and dispensing herbs and fragrances into the tub. When you were finally satisfied, you quickly discarded your soiled clothes and eagerly stepped into the warm bath. The scent of rosewater and pink himalayan salt instantly relaxed you. 

You sighed deeply, leaning against the marble tile and closing your eyes. This was definitely not the way you thought seventh year would go. Your last year at Hogwarts was supposed to be the highlight of your academic career. While your housemates fretted and fussed over quidditch games and blood moon balls, you refused to take your eyes off the prize.

Ever the diligent student, you had no interest in extracurriculars unless it brought you closer to your dream of becoming an accomplished potions master, which would hopefully catch the eye of the Most Extraordinary Society of Potioneers. Joining the prestigious group was a dream that you had been working towards since first year. Blood, sweat, and tears had gone towards achieving this goal, especially during your most recent break. 

You spent the entire holiday interning at the Brewery, attending lectures at the Magical Division of the University of Oxford, and you had not only completed the assigned reading for your Advanced Potions class, but Professor Slughorn’s personal recommendations as well. All of that hard work should have placed you ahead of the curve, but your class rank remained the same as always. 

Second. 

Not first.

Never first.

No, that spot belonged to that rich infuriating smartass pureblooded motherfu—

“Theodore Nott,” you said, lacing your voice with as much venom as you could muster. 

Between the pale moonstone pillars stood the source of your academic anguish. Theodore was dripping sweat, his green and silver quidditch jersey covered in mud and grime. The prefect badge pinned to his robe was barely visible, more brown than silver. His curly brown hair fell erratically across his cheekbones as he brushed a stray strand away to squint in the faint light. 

The side of his mouth quirked up into a smirk when he recognized you. “You know, most people just call me Theo.” His gaze lingered on your form, which was barely covered by pink suds. “Especially those who know me rather intimately.”

You flushed in response. Amusement danced in his watercolor eyes, which seemed brighter now thanks to his sun kissed complexion. Knowing Nott, he probably spent his summer laying out in the Italian sun while attractive witches fed him grapes by hand. You didn’t get a tan like that from holing up in the English countryside with nothing but a boiling cauldron and a dusty textbook for company. He didn’t even have the audacity to pretend like he was worried about his class ranking. The bastard. 

“Every rule has its exception, Theodore,” you gritted out. “Now get the fuck out.” 

He cocked his head, sending a mass of wavy brown locks to spill to one side. “You’re right. Most people don’t usually say my name like it’s an unforgivable, but I guess you’re special in that way, diavolina mia.”

Little devil, Nott's idea of a fond nickname, irritated you to no end. Your annoyance only made him use it more. Gods, what a wanker. 

“Are you deaf or just thick? This bathroom is occupied,” you huffed, sinking lower into the bubbles. “Leave before I scream bloody murder.” 

Theo smirked. “Oh, I guarantee you’ll be screaming.” He kicked his shoes off, leaving them in a messy pile beside your own neatly arranged boots. “Though the only thing I’ll be murdering is that pu—”

The glare you sent his way would have sent lesser men running for the Forbidden Forest. “I’m serious, Nott. I’ve had a terrible fucking day and I am not giving up the bath.” 

“Neither am I,” he countered. “Practice was brutal. I ate shit on the pitch and all I want to do is to reap my prefect benefits via bubble bath. I’m afraid you’re just going to have to learn how to share, sweetheart.”

You watched in stunned silence as he peeled off his jersey. The moonlight streamed through the glass stained windows, painting him in a surreal sort of light. There was no ounce of shame to be found in Theodore Nott as he stripped off his trousers and stood stark naked in the middle of the bathroom. 

Look away, you thought. Look the fuck away now.  

But like a moth to a flame, you found yourself horribly drawn to the cocky, arrogant, son of a bludger. His tall frame cut an imposing figure in the dark as slivers of moonlight danced across his ridiculously toned chest and well-defined abs. He was neither brawny nor scrawny, but somewhere in the middle, which unfortunately happened to be your sweet spot. 

To make matters worse, the smug prick seemed perfectly aware of your ogling. You could’ve sworn Theo flexed as he stalked towards you. Unlike most boys his age, he wasn’t awkward or bumbling. Theo was confident in his body. Too confident. 

You sighed. “Can you at least attempt to be decent?” 

“Why? It’s not like you haven’t seen it all before.”

As if you needed a reminder of this ongoing tryst between you. Theo waded to your side, leaning his head back as the warm water sloshed around him. His eyes fluttered close, those thick lashes of his kissing the top of his cheekbones. Water trickled down his collarbone and you had to fight the urge to lean over and lick it off. 

“I told you, last time was—“ 

“The last time,” Theo finished. “I’m perfectly aware, principessa. You say it every time.” 

“I mean it this time.” 

He cocked his head, flashing those hypnotizing eyes at you. “Oh?” Theo drawled slowly, reaching out to brush a wayward lock of hair that had escaped from your braid. “Did my poor little Ravenclaw finally find the courage to say no to the big bad Slytherin?” 

Your breath hitched as he pressed his lips against your throat. “Fuck,” you whispered. 

“Go on then, love,” Theo hummed against your skin. He kissed the sensitive spot beneath your earlobe, making you involuntarily arch into him. Slender fingers wrapped around the base of your throat, holding you in place. “Tell me what you want, diavolina.” 

You sighed in defeat. “Stop being an asshole and kiss me, Nott.” 

Theo grabbed the back of your head and crashed his lips against yours like a man starved. After months of going without, you came to the horrid realization that you craved this as much as he did. You crawled into his lap, straddling him as he gripped your hips hard enough to leave bruises. 

I am a stupid girl, you thought. A stupid, horny girl who had no business snogging Theodore Nott. 

One, you were bitter rivals. Two, Theo awakened a dangerous side of you that defied all logic. This whole fucked up situation started because of your lapse of judgment last winter. As always, Theo had said or done something to annoy you during class and in return you hexed his drink to taste like dragon dung. He retched for a week straight. Somehow Snape found out that you were to blame and placed both of you in detention.

One thing led to another in the potions classroom and you ended up with your skirt around your waist and Theo’s head between your legs. You quickly resolved that the only way to shut him up was to keep him occupied and occupied he was. Ever since then, the two of you had been at it like rabbits. 

You thought that you would leave all of it behind in sixth year, but barely a week into this term and you were already repeating the pattern. 

“I’ve been thinking about this all summer,” Theo groaned into your mouth. 

“That’s cute, Nott,” you responded sarcastically. “Miss me over the holidays, did you?”

Theo rolled his eyes. “Oh, please. Don’t act like you haven’t been thinking about this too. You’ve been testier than a Hungarian Horntail since the minute you got off the platform. I could tell that you haven’t been properly fucked since our little impromptu goodbye in the broom closet last spring.” 

“You’re absolutely repulsing.” 

He smirked. “Then why are you pulling me closer?” 

You rolled your eyes. “Shut up and fuck me before I change my mind.” 

“You could say please.” 

“I could,” you said with a shrug before gripping his cock and lining him up at your entrance. Theo groaned as you sank down into him with a satisfied little smirk. “But I won’t.” 

The moan that came out of his mouth barely sounded human. “Fuck,” he said, burying his head in the crook of your neck. “How do you always feel so fucking good?” 

You knew what he meant. As much as you hated to admit it, Theo was right. You hadn’t gotten properly laid since your last tryst. There had been other boys this summer, but none of them made you feel like this. Because sex with Theo wasn’t just sex. It was warfare. You fucked like you both had something to prove. 

Even now, as you grinded your hips against him, Theo thrusted upwards with equal force like you were competing for the bloody house cup. You ran your fingers through his hair, frowning a little. 

“What?” Theo asked. 

“Did you cut your hair?” 

He grinned as he trailed kisses along your jaw. “You don’t like it?”

“Less to hold onto.”

“Don’t worry dolcezza,” Theo chuckled darkly. He squeezed your thighs and pressed you against him roughly. “I’ll make sure to hold on tight for the both of us.”

You hummed in agreement before sinking down again, setting a steady rhythm as you rode him with reckless abandon. For someone who valued logic, every ounce of common sense you possessed went out the window when it came to this infuriating boy. 

Maybe you were a masochist. But as Theo thrust sharply into you, the stupid little voice in your head said that you didn’t really mind the pain. 

You moaned as Theo tilted your chin, capturing your lips with his. It was a clash of tongue and teeth as you fought for dominance, putting your bodies to the test. He knew exactly what buttons to press, which sensitive spots to hit, how to challenge you physically and mentally. 

“Gods, right there.” You whimpered, digging your fingernails into his back. Theo’s hypnotizing eyes snapped to yours, piercing through every layer until you felt even more bare than you already were. “Don’t fucking stop, please.”

He smirked. “So you do have bedside manner after all.” 

“Not for you,” you said as you grinded down hard, making Theo bite into your shoulder. 

“Salazar fucking save me,” he grunted. 

“Your founder can’t save you now, Nott.” 

“Cruel, ruthless woman.” Theo looked up at you like he was praying to the stars. His movements stilled as your gazes collided. “Tell me you missed this. Tell me that no one else makes you feel like this.” 

You whined at the loss of friction. “You’ve picked a shit time to get all sentimental on me, Nott.”

“It’s not sentiment, it’s the truth,” Theo declared, thrusting lazily. “And I want to hear you say it.” 

“Why?”

“Call it curiosity,” he said casually. “I want to know if I measure up to the boys back in Oxford.”

Not even close, you thought. But you were not about to admit that out loud. 

“Curiosity killed the cat, you know.” 

Theo chuckled before sinking his teeth into your neck. “But I’m not a cat, little bird. I’m a snake and I’m coiled around you ready to strike if you say the word.” 

You shivered slightly. This constant back and forth, all the bickering and banter, was just you and Theo’s sick and twisted version of foreplay. Gods, you fucking missed it. 

“Fine,” you grumbled. “Theodore Nott, you are an infuriating little shit but you fuck like an absolute demon. I missed sneaking around with you in the broom closet, the charms classroom, the astronomy tower, and wherever else we managed to defile in this bloody castle. Is that what you wanted to hear?” 

The shiteating grin on his face almost made you want to take it all back, but then he flipped you over, laying you down on the cold marble tile and staring at you with so much lust in his eyes that you felt the depths of his desire in your core. He crawled over you, water trickling down his tanned skin. 

“Close enough,” he remarked before hiking your leg over his shoulder and burying himself so deep that you clawed the edge of the tub to keep yourself from slipping. 

The rest of it was a blur of skin on skin as Theo unleashed himself on you. His mouth, his fingers, his cock were all just tools of seduction that he wielded with lethal precision. 

The pleasure washed over you in waves, crashing again and again as he made you cum not once, not twice, but a total of three times. By the time he reached his peak, you were so exhausted that the two of you collapsed in the dark. 

You laid side by side, staring up at the domed glass ceiling in stunned silence. After a moment, Theo turned over to face you.

“So?” 

“So what?”

“Did I manage to knock that stick out of your arse?”

You rolled your eyes, pushing off the tile. “And that’s my cue to leave.”

“I’m kidding. I’m good, but I’m not that good,” Theo teased, following closely behind as you put your clothes back on. He eyed the bright magenta stain on the front of your uniform. “What happened there? Did you murder some poor unsuspecting pygmy puff?” 

“No, but I did a number on the potions lab,” you lamented with a sigh. “That stupid Angel’s Trumpet Draught is bloody impossible to brew.” 

“That old thing?” Theo asked, pulling out a fresh set of clothes from his quidditch bag. “I finished it ages ago.” 

You gaped, nearly tumbling over your own skirt. “How? I followed the recipe word for word and this disastrous stain was all I managed to achieve.”

“Sometimes you have to go off the book,” he replied. “Experiment a little.” 

“No thanks, I’d rather keep all my limbs intact.”

“I think you’re doing a rather splendid job of endangering yourself all on your own,” Theo said sarcastically. He cocked his head as you slipped on your boots. “I’ll make you a deal. I’ll show you how to brew the draught in exchange for a favor.” 

You narrowed your eyes in suspicion. “What kind of favor?” 

“That’s for me to decide and for you to accept.” 

“I’d rather not give an egomaniac a nuclear advantage.” 

Theo rolled his eyes. “Do you want my help or not, diavolina?” 

“Fine,” you said with a sigh. “But only because I’m desperate.” 

“Words every bloke is dying to hear.” 

Without a word, he tossed a mass of balled up fabric in your direction. “What’s this?” 

“A jumper, an article of clothing generally worn to retain warmth in colder climates,” Theo deadpanned.

“I know what a jumper is, you tosser. Why are you giving it to me?” 

“Because, you’ll get a cold walking around like that,” Theo explained with a longsuffering sigh as though you were a clueless first year. The corners of his mouth quirked up. “Plus, I can see your nipples through your blouse and as much as I enjoy the view, I doubt that flashing Filch is at the top of your bucket list.” 

“You truly are appalling,” you replied, shrugging the slightly faded jumper on. The thing was so worn that you couldn’t even make out the inscription on the front. The fabric swallowed you whole, skimming the top of your thighs. It also smelled like sea salt and smoke and boy. One boy in particular. 

“You’re welcome, sweetheart.” He grinned, showing off those stupid little dimples of his. “Meet me in the potions lab tomorrow. Eight o’clock sharp, just like old times. And bring a muffin.” 

“For the draught?’ 

“No, for me.” Theo said, holding the door open. “I’ll need motivation if I’m spending my Saturday morning with you.” 

You slipped into the hallway and flipped him the bird. His laughter followed you in the dark like an annoying shadow.

“See you tomorrow, my little pygmy puff!”

Taglist: @annaisabookworm@marina468@yaraasthings @the0doreslover@bubybubsters@moony-artemis @natasha887@lucyysthings@criesinlies @bunnymallowo@niktwazny303@letmedownslows @siriuslyalovergirl@wordsarelife@clairesjointshurt @daydreamingabthar @mishtay @cherry-hoe  @littlebookbengal @maybefoxysouls @nomup  @aliensknowmyillusions

[salt-pro]

[sabineelectricheart]

Distracted, Desperate, Determined [Pt. 1]

Summary: Baxter is having difficulty focusing on his work these days, ever since his seamstress hired a new assistant to help around the office.

Rating: R - Content features heavy themes. Not suitable for most audiences. Consult warnings before proceeding.

Explicit depictions of violence. Reader discretion is highly advised.

Words: 1038

Notes: Don’t be deceived, boo. Things go down fast with this one.

Baxter was a man, distracted.

Distracted. Divided. Not inattentive, but pulled away from his responsibilities by a force he couldn’t name and could not say he cared for, either. He was not a stranger to romantic inclinations, fantasies, sudden flings, slow-burning inclinations that died the moment his attention was called elsewhere. Predictably, the few relationships he allowed himself were short-lived, at best disastrous at worst, but he did not have a problem with that.

If anything, he appreciated it. He had always thought of company as optional, and what little loneliness he was still capable of feeling could be drowned with a generous glass of indulgently expensive wine. He was not one to linger, he tried not to overstay his welcome.

He had been sentimental, once, too emotional for his own good, and he had learned his lesson, he remembers how excruciatingly painful it had been for him to wane himself off that attachment, how far he fled from everything. He did not intend to change. He did not want to change.

Yet, here he was. Back to the same well. Distracted all over again.

He could not think. He could not focus. It was all he could do to look like he might’ve been trying to read the most recent file left on his desk. It was about another tech bro wedding in Santa Clara, the sort of thing that was burdensome and required too much air travel, but that paid his bills for months on end. It was a bunch of invoices, travelling bills, vision photos, proposals, budgets and requests, stuff to sift through and organize. A drag that he probably would have dealt with days ago, if he had been able to concentrate.

He made a half-hearted effort to straighten his back as the door to his office began to open, but Baxter dropped the act quickly, abandoning it completely by the time he heard the sound of heeled boots against hollow tile, caught a glimpse of a familiar, albeit rarely used, catalyst, searched for eyes and found the cover of a thin book. Instead, the lovely face was still buried in some novel as the person stepped through the threshold, not bothering to knock.

It was Jamie Last. He should have known it would be her. Who else did he deserve? Jamie, his in-house seamstress’ new assistant. Jamie, the latest addition to his tight social circle. Jamie, his current, infuriating, unshakable fixation. Jamie, the new employee who had not paid him so much as a passing glance since her arrival, much to his frustration.

She did not look at him. She rarely ever does, but today it hurt more than it usually did, as she dropped another stack of papers onto his desk, letting it replace the greeting she had forgotten to offer.

“Xavier needs you to sign this.” She started, laying out her priorities clearly, a skill that he was beginning to resent. “It’s their bill for their services on the Ackerton wedding last week. They said that, if you don’t want to read it, I’m supposed to look the other way.”

Ah, they must have inflated the numbers a bit, under the guise of a “rush order” expense. Not that they do not have a point on that, as the ludicrous ingredients on the desserts must not have been easy to source. Well, the Ackertons were too wealthy for their own good, they would not mind covering the extra hundreds when he sends them the full bill.

Baxter glanced over the rows of numbers, the messy hand-writing, the columns of meaningless gibberish that blended together into a mess of ink and digits, skipping over black truffles, llama milk and Himalayan salt. He takes their suggestion, scrawling his name across the only blank line. It was a lost cause, especially with her in the room. Especially with her unoccupied hand resting on his desk, her fingertips idly tapping an unsteady rhythm into the wood, and all he could think about was who he would be willing to kill to feel that hand pressed against his cheek.

He considered asking her, for a moment, giving her an order and hoping she would absent-mindedly obey. He is, after all, ultimately her boss, is he not? He thought about touching her, or running his fingers through her hair, or pulling her into his lap and mumbling sweet nothings into her ear until someone else dragged her away.

He thought about a lot of things.

In any case, he actually said, “I take it your silence comes at a price?”

She shoots him a teasing smile. “Do I seem that selfish to you?”

Jamie is selfish. She had to be selfish. If she was not, then, surely, she would have been kind enough to put him out of his misery months ago.

“I like helping people. Just remember this when I need a favour from you.” She laughs, a heavenly sound that sings to his ear like the violin she plays when a contractor bails on them. “Such as when Xavier brings you a thank-you cake.”

“Ah, that’s going to take a while. They’re swamped with work and need no referrals from us.” He went on. “I’m sure we could work something more immediate out between ourselves.”

The young woman is already starting towards the door, calling the conversation to a close before Baxter could begin to finish. In the back of his mind, something flared, the urge to catch her wrist, to go after her, to put himself between her and the only exit and refuse to move until she looked at him. However, he forced it down, swallowing the temptation before it could eclipse his common sense.

He could not be impulsive. He could not make rash decisions. He is not prepared to deal with how difficult that would make things, not now. Not yet.

“Join me for a drink?” He tried, again, attempting to sound unbothered. Nonchalant, casual, normal. Like he was not itching to burn every book she had ever touched. “I know that you don’t have anything better to…”

“Another night, Mr. Ward.”

And just like that, she is gone, leaving his muttered response to echo through his empty office.

“Of course.”

*_*_*_*_*

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[localratbastard]

When i was 16 i fell in love with a boy who drank plain lime Jorritos.

His eyes were the color of Himalayan poppies running down a creek. and the first time he kissed me it was an unwritten allegory and relief all the same. He never let me leave without a bear hug goodbye. He traced my scars with his fingertips. He was the morning after spring’s last frost, apple pie moonshine, and walks along the train tracks. He was always warm and smelled like childhood books and loved holding my hand any chance we got: my cherished bonfire , my three-letter vice, my Kafka fanatic. He followed my skin and called cardinal directions in the thrift. Casual stability and consistency in a shipwreck. There's no fireplace that compares to the homely warmth of his arms.

When I was 16 my favorite number was three, two vowels and a consonant. 

Now as I’m 17 I’ve fallen deeper for that boy, the boy that drank plain lime Jorritos and loves dr. pepper almost as much as he loves me. His eyes, blue still, are now the color of bluebells breaking through concrete. and every kiss, is still relief, every kiss an unwritten metaphor and an excuse to fall into a deeper kiss. He admires the imperfections bandaged in permanent ink. He is  the final call of summer as the leaves turn; a neat glass of well aged whiskey; walks along those damned train tracks and drunken rest found on tiled rooftops. He’s warm, he’s perfumed by the charm of cold showers and salt scrubs; he holds my hand and treats it like a lifeline: my darling pyre, my three letter vice, my burning bassist. His principle joy is to tread on skin as if he’ll never touch again, he calls upon the stars for their blessings. What use is there for a lighthouse when drowning with him is as divine as all love is when given kneeling? A year has passed and comparisons have become obsolete. He is my love and he is himself.

Now as I am 17, my favorite number is three, a consonant and a couple of vow(el)s.