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inky-duchess · 7 months

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Etiquette of the Edwardian Era and La Belle Époque: Tea

This is a new set of posts focusing on the period of time stretching from the late 19th century to the early 20th Century right up to the start of WWI. I'll be going through different aspects of life. This series can be linked to my Great House series as well as my Season post and Debutant post.

Today will be focusing on the rules of tea with this time period.

Tea was a staple in society, not only as a comforting beverage but as a social gathering beset by strict rules. Etiquette at tea is not only important for guests but is a sign of respect to one's host.

High Tea vs Afternoon Tea

You're reading both terms and you're thinking high tea is the formal version and afternoon is informal. In fact, no. It is the opposite. High tea was actually served far later, about 6pm/7pm and focused on more savoury, substantial dishes. High tea was more of a lower class tradition, designed to fill the stomachs of hungry workers. The word "high" is derived from the tall tables used. Afternoon tea is served at 4pm, designed to fill the gap between lunch and dinner. Afternoon tea is served at low tables with all the guests seated and involve a lighter meal, more nibbles than anything.

Hosting and Attending Tea

Tea is an event that happens every day, it's not an excuse for a snack, it's a ritual. One can have tea served in one's own home or at the home of a friend. One must be invited to tea, one can't just show up and expect to get fed. Tea was typically served in libraries or drawing rooms and done times outside in the gardens if weather permits. One had to dress for tea usually in comfortable but appropriate clothing. Men would wear suits, women would wear tea gowns or a simple gown - keeping their hats upon their head, if they are visiting. Tea was not poured by the footman but by the host or if it is a large party, by one assigned guest. The hostess or designated tea pourer would serve themselves last.

The Tea Set

Tea sets are highly coveted and much remarked upon at tea. One would usually inherit a service (that's what the collection was called) or be gifted it at one's wedding. Services would all match and most households had different kinds, the best usually reserved for important guests.

Teapot: the tea pot held the hot water and tea leaves was was usually made of china and decorated.

Cups: the cups were generally low, shallow.

Saucer: a small plate for the cup to rest on

Tea cannister: where dried tea leaves would rest until needed.

Sugar bowl: was a small container made of china with a cover to protect the sugar from moisture.

Milk jug: a container for the milk

Slop basin: was a porcelain dish used for disposing tea leaves left behind with the dregs of tea.

Tea spoon: small spoon used to stir tea

Side Plate: small serving plate used for food.

As you might have noticed, other than a tea spoon, cutlery is not listed. There would be a spoon for jam and a knife for a scone, most food was designed to be eaten with one's hands.

There is also one instrument not listed here and it's the most recognisable thing at afternoon tea.

The Tiered Tray

The tiered tray is a set of trays stacked upon one another holding on each one, a different course. Sandwiches and savouries were served on the bottom (Favourites include smoked salmon, cucumber, cress, egg salad sandwiches), scones on the second and sweeter delights served on the top (sponge cake, macaroons, pastries etc). One would begin ay the bottom and work one's way upward.

Making the Perfect Cup of Tea in the Edwardian Era/Belle Epoque/Gilded Age

Disclaimers: Let's make one thing clear. Tea is not prepared one way for all. Tea is culturally important across the world and every culture has their own rules about how tea is consumed and served. There's no one right way.

I will be discussing the English way of brewing tea in this post.

As mentioned before, tea is held in a cannister before use. Tea leaves were added to the hot water and lightly stirred.

Controversially for most people, milk was commonly added first.

One would then set a strainer in one's cup, tilting the pot. The strainer will catch the leaves and leave your cup almost tea-pulp free.

With the tea added, one could add in sugar. The trick is not to make a show about it or be too loud. One simply should gently turn your spoon from the 6 o'clock position to the 12 o'clock position. Also, the spoon rests on the saucer when not in use and doesn't stay in your cup.

When drinking your tea, put your pinky down. That's an American myth. Simply lift your cup to you, lifting the cup to your mouth by the handle. Saucers are not lifted unless your cup is far away. Don't slurp it, there's plenty more where that came from.

Etiquette at Tea

Afternoon tea is for light conversation, do avoid heavy topics.

Listen attentively when being spoken to.

Don't talk with your mouth full or stuff your mouth. Typically everything should be polished off with 2-3 bites.

Gloves should be removed at tea because one is eating with their fingers.

If one is leaving the table to go to the bathroom or a breath of air, simply turn to your neighbours and excuse yourself. No explanation needed.

Napkins should be removed from the table and set across one's lap when one is sitting down. When finished with tea, set it beside your plate before you rise.

Also you daub, not smear.

Don't cut your scone but break it.

Don't lick your fingers.

Don't bang the spoon on the side of the cup.

Also there's no dunking biscuits into your tea. It's just not done at afternoon tea.

Never thank the staff for fetching anything - or at very least, don't be overhead doing so.

Always say your goodbyes to the hostess and compliment the tea, even if you had a rubbish time.

Also most importantly, never criticise somebody else's manners. That's the height of rudeness.

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cutestkilla · 9 months

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Tea for (more than) Two

So, in a delightful turn of events, I recently got together with some pals who are also TOTALLY NORMAL about Carry On. And we did our best to replicate afternoon tea at Lady Ruth’s house. And I thought it would be kinda fun to share the results (and some recipes, which are at the end under the cut). So, here they are, featuring:

Scones! (Sour cherry, ofc.)

Cake! (Chocolate with Chocolate-Orange Buttercream featuring a super respectful remembrance, Lemon Drizzle, and Classic Victoria Sandwich.)

Lavender Earl Grey shortbread cookies!

Finger sandwiches! (Egg & cress, Lemon and prawn, Caprese on focaccia, and Coronation chicken - all on freshly baked bread.)

A selection of teas! (Including Simon's Sour Cherry looseleaf blend, Simon Snow Tea, some proper English Breakfast, and of course Earl Grey.)

A giant slab of butter! (Fancy butter.)

A basil plant!

A crucible!

A sword through the table!

Special cameos by a Watford goat (wings hidden) and Prof. Minos (tiny fluffy edition)!

Sadly, no tea trolley, but we did our best to provide glamorous staging anyway.

It was pretty much the best, guys! Highly recommend. Recipes (including dairy-free versions for many treats) below the cut.

Chocolate cake with chocolate-orange buttercream (dairy-free)

Using this recipe for the cake, and this one for the frosting (instructions at the end for a chocolate variant). A hot tip is to use egg whites instead of aquafaba (they whip up much faster) and of course to add orange zest, per AWTWB ch 89.

Lemon Drizzle Cake (dairy-free)

Using this recipe, using vegan butter and replacing the self-raising flour with some flour/baking powder/salt ratio from the internet. Garnish with Kellogg's ICEE Cereal or any other weird cereal you saw at the store and couldn't resist trying, for a little visual flair.

Classic Victoria Sandwich (dairy-free)

Using this recipe, substituting butter with vegan butter, milk with a non-dairy milk alternative (ideally soy but in this case oat milk was used), and replacing the self-raising flour with the same flour/baking powder/salt ratio from the internet as above. Regular old granulated sugar can be used in place of caster sugar. Garnished this with some black raspberries, but any attractive fruit (or weird cereal) could be used.

Sour Cherry Scones

This recipe from the Joy of Cooking does the trick! Use the GOOD butter.

Lavender Earl Grey Shortbread Cookies

You can find the recipe here

Overnight Focaccia Bread

Lemon and Prawn Sandwiches

This recipe came from @cookingmywaythroughcarryon and there are tons more there for tea party inspiration, including alternate versions of some of the above, so definitely check it out!

#carry on #the simon snow series #dairy-free baking #the simon snow trilogy #simon snow #rainbow rowell #tea for more than two #except at lady ruth's this is probably the spread she would put out for only two people #rainbow if you see this i hope the oxford commas aren't too offensive 😂

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the-girl-from-dres · 3 months

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Hrmng

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kimetsu-no-yaiba-writings · 1 year

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Hi there! I saw that you ask for request about the demons, so I'm here to request for Gyutaro with a S/O who wants to have a tea party with him.

That's it, hope you have a good day!

Hoi! Thank you for requesting (^0^.) And for requesting Gyutaro too, I've not written anything for him yet so I hope I got him right.

I hope you enjoy these headcanons ☆彡 My askbox is always open if you want to slide anything my way - e.g. questions, personal headcanons, request etc. - and if you have the time.

Gyutaro with an S/O who wants a tea party with Him - Headcanons:

You want a what? A tea party? With him???

Surprisingly it takes very little to convince him to join you for one - He's always been weak to your pouty lips and watery doe eyes

A day chosen and blocked out in both of your schedules

And when he first arrives, Gyutaro stands awkwardly in your kitchen doorway not knowing where you wantd him to be until you usher him with your soft voice and hands and force him down in a comfortable cushioned chair across from yours

"You've really gone all out,huh?" He grumbles, looking at the large round table filled with serving stands and a pretty teapot with matching cups + saucers

One serving stand with four tiers, holding different types of sandwiches - Noting the range of flavours you've made (Cheese. Ham + Mayo, Tuna Mayo, Egg Cress to name a few)

Another filled with cakes and one of scones with clotted cream and jam - strawberry Gyutaro notes with a wrinkle of his nose

As well as pastries, petits-fours, biscuits and cookies

Won't admit it but he does have a sweettooth - Eyeing up the tiers that contain a large variety of cakes, biscuits and cookies - already picking the order of what sweet-thing to eat first

A whine parting his lips when with a wiggle of your brows - and that stunning smile of yours - you piled his plate with sweet goodies

You'd even gone all out with the teas! Having brewed three different types - Earl Grey, Ginger with Honey and Lavender

"There's and order to drinking the tea Gyutaro!" You said, excitedly filling up his cup with one of them "We have to save the Lavender for last as it's meant to be soothing and the perfect drink for nerves"

Gyutaro followed your order, sniffing each type of tea before drinking - nose wrinkling in disgust at the strong smell of the ginger although it tasted nice with honey

You'd even brought card and board games as entertainment!

While tea parties are meant to last about 2-3 hours long, this tea party lasted for 4 hours

Simply enjoying each others company

Letting the comforting sounds of your home - of the nature outside and the sound of rain - sink into the foundations

And when you both did speak, it was calmly and relaxed

"Lets....Lets do this again," Gyutaro murmurs into his cup, form hunching over in fear of rejection "I enjoyed this....."

Gyutaro's heart skips a beat when you joyful agree - his lips wobbling up into a smile back as a shy giggle bubbles in his chest

And thus, a tradition was born for you both

#kny #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer #kny x reader #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #demon slayer x reader #kny gyutaro #demon slayer gyutaro #kimetsu no yaiba gyutaro #gyutaro #kny gyutaro x reader #kimetsu no yaiba gyutaro x reader #demon slayer gyutaro x reader #gyutaro x reader #anime x reader #x reader #kny headcanons #demon slayer headcanons #kimetsu no yaiba headcanons

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ewanmitchellcrumbs · 10 months

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Here’s a request for Abraham as I only just found out who he is and I already would let him spit on me. He’s in the pub where he sees a girl with big boobs and a cheeky grin, he follows her out. Maybe she leads him to the stables? And he fucks her good and hard against the hay. However, just as he’s about to pull his pants up. He falls on the ground due to reader and she rides him like a pony. Maybe some dirty talk and against the hay he chokes her but while she’s riding him she chokes him. You decide how to interpret this and where it goes from there. Hope you have fun writing!

Hello! First off I'd like to thank you for your patience - I'm sorry it's taken me over two months to fulfil this request, I am slow and I have a lot to work through. Secondly, this request is absolutely bonkers, but I've done my best to fulfil it in my own style. I hope that you enjoy it.

Warnings: Infidelity, choking, fingering, smut. Word count: ~2.6k

It’s a bright and sunny July afternoon on Grantchester Village Green. The sounds of a brass band playing and children’s laughter float on the breeze, yet she is bored. It’s the Village’s annual church fête and every Grantchester resident has turned up to take part and lend a hand. Mr. Ruskin has lent a donkey from his farm to give rides to the children, there’s a tombola offering up various prizes of assorted chocolates and cuddly toys, and games of boules and cornholing have been laid out across the Green, under reams of brightly coloured bunting. She feels like she could scream from the civility of it all.

“Fetch you some more squash?” Robbie asks with a soft smile, gesturing towards her with his empty paper cup.

“No. I’m alright, thanks, love.” She replies, stiffening uncomfortably as he places a chaste kiss to her cheek before heading off in the direction of the refreshment stand.

It’s all so bland. She can’t stomach another cup of tea, another orange squash, another egg and cress sandwich. Worst of all, she’s not sure how much more of Robbie she can stand. They have been courting for almost a year - the perfect match in every sense - he is the Vicar’s son, polite, gentle, and inoffensive. She is the daughter of the head of the Village committee; pretty, well mannered and kind.

Truthfully, she finds Robbie painfully dull. He isn’t bad looking and doesn’t treat her unkindly, he is just unambitious and set in his ways. She had agreed to go steady with him because it was what was expected of her. He’d taken her by surprise when he’d expressed the desire to sleep with her three months into their relationship, and for the first time in all the years they’d known each other she’d actually found herself excited by him. That was until they did the deed and he’d rutted atop her with all the enthusiasm of a captain going down with his ship.

She’s heard the murmurs around the Village, the rumours that he plans to propose. Robbie hasn’t exactly been subtle about it either, the way he gawks in the window of the jewellers makes dread sink in her stomach like a stone, not just at the idea of him asking her to marry him, but the fact that she knows she’ll say yes. It’s what her father wants for her, and living somewhere so small, where everyone knows everyone and all their business, she doesn’t want the reputation of the girl that broke a good Christian boy’s heart.

A future as Mrs. Robert Chambers, wife of the vicar’s son, Village postmistress, daughter of the head of the Village committee. Boring, boring, boring.

Life in Grantchester had suddenly become more interesting when he had rolled into the village; part of the Romani settlement that had taken refuge in one of Mr. Ruskin’s fields. The locals had treated them with suspicion and hostility, such was the attitude to newcomers, especially travellers. However, something about him intrigued her; his slicked back hair, dazzling blue eyes and cocky smirk made her heart race, worsened by the fact that whenever she’d seen him around he always managed to catch her eye and send her reeling with a wink.

She’d never dared to speak to him, yet she feels her breath hitch as she notices him and five of the other Romani men approaching the Green.

“Here comes trouble.” She hears her father sigh as he steps forward to approach them.

She gently grabs his arm. “Dad, leave it,” She pleads. “They haven’t done anything.”

“Not yet anyway.” Robbie says as he returns from the refreshment stand with a refilled drink.

“They’ve as much right to be here as anyone else.” She fires back, watching as the group sit themselves on nearby picnic benches.

“I’d like to see what sort of contribution they’ve made to the Church or Village.” Her father mutters darkly.

As if on cue, the eldest of the group stands from the picnic bench and walks over to Mr. Chambers, depositing a handful of coins into the money box he holds.

“There’s fifty pence from each of us there.” He tells the Vicar.

“Very generous of you, thank you.” Mr. Chambers responds with a bow of his head.

“See?” She says to her father. “Just leave them.”

As the afternoon progresses, the group is rowdier than anyone else at the fête. The sounds of their jeering and raucous laughing drowns out the tuba and trumpets of the band, earning them glares from everyone else in attendance. However, they keep to themselves, doing nothing more scandalous than using the picnic benches to arm wrestle one another.

She’s taking a walk around by herself, watching a group of children toss bean bags at each other with squeals and shrieks when she spots him, leaning against an outbuilding and swigging from a labeless brown glass bottle.

He winks at her when he sees her and she feels her cheeks heat up.

“Having fun?” He asks with a raise of his eyebrow.

“Not really.” She says with a soft laugh.

“Tea and sarnies not your thing then?” He smirks at her and it sets off a fluttering in her lower belly.

“I can’t imagine it’s yours either.” She says with a shrug. “What’s your lot doing here?”

He sniffs, taking another swig from his bottle and offering it to her. Tentatively she takes it from him, a shiver running through her as their fingers brush for the briefest of moments.

“We’re moving on tomorrow. Figured we’d come pay our respects before we push off.”

She is unable to mask her disappointment at this revelation, her eyes widening as her heart sinks. “Tomorrow?! You’re leaving..?”

He leans in, his blue eyes locking with hers. “You gonna miss us?”

She takes a long drink from the bottle in order to avoid having to answer the question, spluttering around the acrid burn of the liquid in her throat.

He chuckles, taking it back from her as she coughs and wipes her mouth. “Pal’s home brew. Put hairs on your chest, that will.”

She whips around when she hears Robbie calling out for her.

“Go on then, run back to your little boyfriend.” She has to suppress a gasp as she feels the hotness of his breath against the shell of her ear, how closely he’s moved behind her in order to lean down and whisper to her.

She swallows thickly, walking away before turning back to him. “I didn’t catch your name…”

“Abraham.” He tells her, with a mock two fingered salute.

“Nice to meet you, Abraham. I’m-”

“-oh I know who you are. Seen you around.” He interrupts, eyes roving over her form appreciatively.

She bites her lip, feeling the heat return to her cheeks and turns back to rejoin Robbie and her father.

The next hour passes uneventfully, until she hears raised voices coming from the area where the donkey rides are being given. Curious, she moves closer to see what’s happening. She’s surprised when she sees Abraham squaring up to Mr. Ruskin.

“It’s my animal, I think I know best how to look after it.” The farmer says angrily.

“And all I’m saying is that if you’re gonna have the poor fucker carting kids back and forth all day, the least you can do is give it a drink!” Abraham spits back.

The two men stare each other down, until eventually Abraham turns around and walks away. She thinks he has left and is bitterly dismayed that she hasn’t had the opportunity to speak to him more, when fifteen minutes later he turns with a bucket of water, setting it down near the donkey’s hay bales.

Mr. Ruskin grumbles at this, telling Abraham to clear off, but makes no moves to take the water away. She smiles at this, she knows nothing about this mysterious man, yet it’s endearing to see how he cares for animals.

She doesn’t see him again for the rest of the day and it’s only as things start to get packed down for the evening that she realises his group has left. The bucket remains where Abraham left it and she decides she’ll return it to him, emptying the water out onto the grass before turning to let her father and Robbie know what she intends to do.

She thinks better of it as she sees the two of them grappling with the hinges of a long folding table, struggling to collapse it. Probably for the best that they don’t know where she’s going. She takes the bucket, heading off in the direction of the farm.

Abraham isn’t hard to find. He stands in a stall of the stable, running a brush along the back of a chestnut coloured thoroughbred. He is bathed in the orange glow of early summer evening, the dying sunlight plays upon the sharpness of his features, making him appear ethereal.

“He’s beautiful.” She says, making sure it’s the horse she nods towards as she approaches.

Abraham grins when he sees her, continuing to brush out the horse’s coat. “He’s alright. Still needs a bit of work, but he’s fast. Should be fit for racing soon.”

“Mr. Ruskin doesn’t mind you keeping your horses in his stables?”

He laughs drily, tossing the brush to one side and stepping out of the stall. “He told us to. Pitched a fit when he saw the state they were making of his field.”

She nods in understanding, watching as he brushes his hands off on his trousers.

“So what brings you to me?” He asks, leaning against the door of an empty stall and eyeing her closely.

“Oh,” She steps forward, holding out the bucket. “You left this. Thought you might want it back.”

He takes it from her with a smirk. “Right, because Ruskin couldn’t have brought this with him when he brought the donkey back…”

She feels herself grow hot again, opening and closing her mouth as she struggles to formulate a response.

“Why are you really here?” He closes the gap between them, a predatory glint in his eye.

“I don’t know what you mean.” She whispers, feeling arousal seep between her legs, warm and sticky, as he grips her lightly by the tops of her arms, turning her and backing her into the empty stall.

“I think you do.” He says lowly, fingertips tracing her jawline, the pad of his thumb passes slowly across her bottom lip, pulling slightly. “See, I think that little boyfriend of yours isn’t fucking you the way you’d like him to, so you thought you’d come see if I could do a better job.”

“N-no!” She stammers, fighting to keep her composure, as her stomach feels as though it’s doing somersaults.

“Oh?” He cocks his head, the hand not cupping her jaw moves, pushing the skirt of her dress up her thighs. “You a good girl then? Tell me to stop.”

She knows she should, but what she should do and what she wants to do are at direct odds with each other, so she says nothing, her chest rising and falling quickly with the rapidity of her breathing.

“That’s what I thought,” He utters, inhaling sharply as his fingers come to stroke over her clothed centre, feeling the dampness there. “Good girls don’t soak through their knickers like this for boys like me.”

It’s then that he finally presses forward to capture her lips with his own. It’s like no other kiss she’s ever experienced before, as his mouth moves with firmness against her own, parting to slip his tongue alongside hers, it feels like he is staking claim to her. She clings desperately to his shoulders, whimpering as she feels him push her underwear to the side and slowly sink a long finger inside of her.

“So tight…” He mumbles between kisses, moving his mouth to neck to suckle at her pulse point as his digit curls and pumps within her heat.

She allows her head to fall back with a soft thump against the wood of the stall’s wall as he adds a second, the repetitive strokes across a particular spot deep within her cause her muscles to tense as she bucks against his hand, feeling her belly tighten.

“Gonna come for me?” He asks cockily, sounding pleased with himself. His thumb begins to stroke at her pearl in tandem with the push and pull of his middle and forefingers.

The motion causes the tautness in her to finally give way, a wave of warmth rushes over her body from head to toe, and she lets out a strangled cry as she tightens and spasms around him.

She whines, her knees buckling as Abraham slowly retracts his fingers, but he’s quick to hold her in place by her waist. “S’alright, I’ve got you.” He reassures, keeping her steady until her breathing returns to normal.

The haze from her climax lifts slightly when she hears the metallic sound of his belt buckle unfastening, anticipation causing her breath to come in shallow puffs when it has only just recovered.

“You gonna let me inside, pretty girl?” He questions.

It almost makes her want to laugh, after what he’s just done to her, now he’s asking for permission. She nods feebly, her eyes heavy lidded as they take in the sight of his length as he fists it, long and thick. For a brief moment she wonders how he’ll fit.

“Use your words,” He urges. “Tell me what you want.”

“You,” She whispers shakily, “Want you inside of me.”

He smirks, pressing into her with a satisfied groan and she mewls pathetically as he stretches her open, his grip on her thigh as he holds her open to him is sure to leave bruises.

“Fuckin’ hell.” He grits out, once he’s finally sheathed within her.

He smells faintly of sweat, musky and intoxicating as she holds him close to her. She has never felt so full before, and the roughness of the wood against her back through the thin cotton of her dress, combined with the press of Abraham against her is almost overwhelming.

Her head lolls to the side and she gasps once he finally starts to snap his hips against hers. He places a hand around her throat, giving the sides a gentle squeeze. “Look at me,” He orders. “Look at me when I fuck you.”

She finds that once she meets his eyes, she couldn’t look away even if she wanted to. There’s a hunger that burns within those baby blues, commanding and insatiable, that keeps her trapped like an animal beneath the intensity of his gaze.

His pace is relentless. The slap of skin against skin mixed with the cadence of the wanton sounds that fall from her lips is lewd, utterly obscene, yet she is too far gone to care or feel embarrassed.

She knows that Abraham is close when his pace falters. He pulls out with a grunt, stroking himself furiously until ropes of his pearlescent spend coat her thighs and lower belly.

He falls forward, keeping a hand pressed to the wall beside her head to stop himself putting too much of his weight onto her, and rests his forehead against hers.

“Fuck,” He breathes. “We should do that more often.”

“You’re leaving tomorrow.” She says quietly, hoping her voice doesn’t betray the sadness she feels.

“So? Come with me.” He says, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world, brushing the tip of his nose softly against her cheek.

“I can’t do that!” She huffs incredulously.

“Why?” He asks, stepping away, looking for something to help clean them both up. “What’s stopping you?”

She pauses, her brow furrowing as she struggles to think of an answer. Really, what is stopping her? She grins, her future suddenly seeming much less dull.

#abraham #grantchester #ewan mitchell #abraham smut #abraham grantchester #abraham fan fiction #abraham fanfiction #abraham fan fic #abraham fanfic #grantchester smut #grantchester fan fiction #grantchester fanfiction #grantchester fanfic #grantchester fan fic

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jenntastic10 · 9 months

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🌸 Indulge in a Delightful Afternoon Tea Experience! 🌸

Join us for a truly enchanting afternoon tea that will transport you to a world of elegance and indulgence. Our full afternoon tea menu offers a delightful three-course experience that is sure to satisfy your cravings.

✨ First Course:

Indulge in a selection of delectable sandwiches, including the classic egg sandwich, mouthwatering smoked salmon and dill sandwich, refreshing cucumber sandwich, and the ever-delicious egg and cress sandwich. These perfectly crafted bites will tantalize your taste buds and leave you longing for more.

✨ Second Course:

Savor the timeless tradition of freshly baked scones served with clotted cream and jam. These warm, flaky delights are accompanied by a heavenly Battenberg cake, adding a touch of sweetness to your afternoon tea experience. And don't forget to relish our delightful fruit scone, bursting with juicy flavors.

✨ Third Course:

Treat yourself to a heavenly assortment of petit fours. Dive into the delicate and irresistible madeleines, indulge in the classic Victoria sponge with its light and airy layers, and savor the delicate and colorful macarons that will leave you in awe.

Embark on this journey of culinary bliss and make unforgettable memories with friends or loved ones. Immerse yourself in the ambiance, sip on a cup of perfectly brewed tea, and let the flavors take you on a sensational adventure.

🌺 Join us for an afternoon tea experience that will leave you craving for more! 🌺

#black is beautiful #black luxury #black tumblr #black beauty #black femininity #it girl #luxury black women #hypergamy #black love #coquette #tea #tea time #Etiquette #proper etiquette

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tj-dragonblade · 5 days

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Tell me something about the academic conference AU? :D

The Academic Conference AU is a long-term beast that started life more than a year ago as a quick smut fill for the prompt 'bed sharing' and turned into an anticipated four chapters of hooking up (at an academic conference) and relationship development (assuming I can see it all the way through). There are pieces of it scattered all over and tagged for convenience and here is a second-chapter snippet that I shared on Discord last fall but that has not been seen yet on tumblr:

"Hope these next panels are at least interesting," Hob says through his last bite of tikka chicken sandwich back in their room. "It's awful when it's the boring shit." "And did my presentation fall into this category?" Dream is cross-legged on the rollaway bed, giving Hob that same coquettish look that's been steaming up his glasses for the past couple of days. "Course not," he says, winking as he leans back in the desk chair. "You were riveting. Enthralling. Couldn't take my eyes off you." "Flatterer." Dream does not seem terribly upset about it. "In all seriousness, you were amazing." Hob leans forward again, earnest and sincere. "By far my favorite panel this year. You really know your stuff and you make it accessible and interesting." "I—well." Dream is decidedly more flustered by the sincerity, which Hob finds infinitely charming. "You—ah. You have something—" He gestures at his own face, changing the subject with an endearing lack of grace. "Oh? Oh." Hob swipes the corner of his own mouth with his thumb, comes away with a smear of mango chutney. He licks it off without a thought, pops the digit into his mouth to suck it clean. Dream makes a soft, strangled noise; Hob freezes and glances up, an abrupt awareness of symbolism and suggestion crashing over him belatedly. The look on Dream's face says everything, but he speaks anyway. "It becomes you. Having something in your mouth like that." Hob feels his temperature ratchet up a couple notches, and keeps his thumb where it's at as he swallows. He scoots the chair closer to Dream, wheels squeaking. "Yeah?" He pops his thumb out with a lewd wet noise and grins. "Such a thing to say, Dr. Murphy. Is there something you'd like to put in my mouth, perhaps?" Dream visibly suppresses a shiver, and his slow smile positively smoulders. "In due time, Dr. Gadling." Hob can't take it, this weighted flirting on top of the anticipation bubbling low in his stomach; he leans in close. "Sorry, sorry, there's just—something we didn't get to last night that I really want to do—" He reaches to touch Dream's face, draws him into a softly-open kiss. Dream tastes a bit like the egg and cress sandwich he'd just eaten and a bit like nothing Hob can describe, and he is just a little dizzy with it. He slides his hand around the back of Dream's neck, presses closer; Dream, frustratingly, twists out of the kiss and grasps him by the wrist, removing his hand. "Stop. Stop." Hob's heart plummets. "But…no?" Anxiety spikes sharp in his gut, the accusations of a dozen exes rising swift and ugly behind his eyes. Too fast, too soon, too much— Dream lowers Hob's hand in both of his, holds it grasped with the back of it pressed to his own chest, head somewhat bowed. "Do not misunderstand me, Hob." And that's when Hob feels the gallop of Dream's heart beneath his ribs, the way his breath is coming faster. "We are required to attend the sessions this afternoon, and if I kiss you—" his eyes lift to Hob's, shadowed by the thickness of his lashes and the flop of his curls and absolutely molten with intensity "—then neither of us is leaving this room for the rest of the night."

WIP Title Ask Game

#askmemes #TJs Writing #Sandman #Dreamling #wip: academic AU

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