#tea drinking preferences poll

[annaholak]

Wyrd Sisters Tea Poll (Part 1)

We all know witches love tea. We also know they're practical, and therefore would probably prefer teabags over loose leaf. But what brand of tea, and what kind of tea would each member of our beloved Lancre coven prefer (if they lived in modern day UK)?

Lets kick it off with none other than - drumroll please! -

Granny Weatherwax

Granny is a traditionalist, and that means black tea. But would she have a secret fondness for something like Earl Grey (still very much traditional, but with that nice hint of bergamot), or would she stick to the older generation's favourite Yorkshire Tea?

Lets vote!

If you answered "Other", please specify in the comments/tags/wherever I might see it. Same goes if you want to add anything about your choice, tea in general, the British and their habits, the Lancre witches, and so on and so forth.

Have fun!

[penig]

You forgot tea. That's got tannic acid, too, and it's delicious.

Something that I've personally wondered about for a long time.

You know the drill. Reblog for sample size.

[deepdisireslonging]

Cake or Cookies

A good round of sexy texting during girls’ night leads to sexy personal time when Bucky gets home.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x curvy!Reader

Warnings/Promises: food mention, descriptions of injuries (canon-level), dirty talk, sexting, SMUT, oral (both receiving), implied further smut

Word Count: 3080

Note: They can pry the Avenger Apartment/Tower from my cold dead hands. Everything’s fine, everyone is fine; what trauma? Why can’t we have nice things? I went hunting through some of my lost prompts and found a couple to squeeze together. Happy reading!

Girls’ night in the Tower was bound to be dangerous. It was usually when Natasha came up with the next round of pranks to play on the boys. And when Wanda took it upon herself to create the best pillow fort to watch movies in. Her magic made it easy to pile the couch pillows and blankets into what looked more like a cozy cave than a fort. And Maria kept track of where to find any films not already stored in Stark’s library.

You were in charge of snacks. Drinks were cozy only: tea, hot chocolate, and coffee. Alcohol parties were for other nights. Snacks ranged anywhere from home-made chips to hors d'oeuvres (fancy and simply indulgent), to the smorgasbord of mass produced favorite snacks you raided from the corner bodega. But you were stumped when it came to tonight’s desserts. The bodega’s sweet treats were present, cheap candy and the like, but you were stuck between the roll of cookie dough and a box mix for cupcakes.

Stumped, you didn’t acknowledge the warm body that ghosted up behind you until a hand slid across your waist. “It’s girls’ night. What are you still doing here?” Sitting down the treats, you turned in Bucky’s arms and scratched your fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck.

He lightly kissed your forehead. “Needed a break from Tony. Can you blame me?”

“Not at all.”

You both inhaled deeply, cheek to cheek. The last mission had been a rough one. Most of the team had come back banged up. And you still had a nasty scrape of road burn up one leg. Which is why you were wearing the equivalent of biker shorts. Pepper had gotten them for you sometime after the social media trend of those leggings ladies liked to tease their S.O’s with. They were surprisingly supportive of your form. You usually wore them underneath your gear because they were borderline indecent. But, with one of Bucky’s oversized shirts covering your figure, nobody had commented.

Except for Bucky as he slid his hands down your body to rest over the curve of your ass.

“I thought these stayed out of sight?”

You teased a glance up at him. “Usually, yes. But It’s girls’ night. We all wear the equivalent of our pajamas since you boys will be out. You are all going out, right?”

He nodded. “Yes. Eventually.” But he didn’t move. He hugged you closer, brazenly tilting your head to one side with his nose so he could kiss the underside of your jaw.

“Y/L/N!” Natasha waved from the living room. “Are we ready to go, or what?”

A smile spread across your face. You lightly pushed Bucky away, making him whine. Natasha was already starting the voting poll for the evening’s movies when you turned back to the counter. “I’ve got to bake before the party starts. Do you have a preference for what sweets you’d like to be left over? Cookies or cupcakes?”

Bucky pressed up behind you, resting his large hands on the counter on either side of you, and griding his front into your ass. “Cookies. There’s enough cake in this kitchen already.” He slapped your ass, following with both his hands taking tight squeezes of your flesh.

As you gasped, he rushed out. The wink he shot you from the door warned you that the tease would not be the evening’s last.

Fifteen minutes later, the cookies were out, the movie was in, and everyone was settled into their favorite pile of pillows.

Five minutes into the movie, the texting started.

Lover Boy <3: “How’s the movie?”

You rolled your eyes as you turned your phone on silent. If Okoye heard your phone again, you’d never get it back. “We’re watching Magic Mike. So… It’s going well.” You added a smiley face with its tongue sticking out for good measure.

Bucky’s messages popped up every few minutes. You kept your phone screen towards you to see the notification light up your screen without bothering the other women.

Lover Boy <3: “Should I be jealous?”

You: “Nah. Their gyrating doesn’t do it for me.”

Lover Boy <3: “Good to know.”

Lover Boy <3: “Is there anything in the movie that does ‘do’ it for you?”

You smothered a chuckle into your blanket. Each passing second that you took to come up with a teasing reply was surly wreaking havoc on your man.

You: “Maybe. Who wants to know?”

His reply was slow in coming. When it did, you almost fumbled your phone into the floor.

Lover Boy <3: *image incoming*

The picture you received was of Bucky’s hand resting on the top of his thigh. They were out to dinner somewhere, the edge of the table blocking your photo view from the rest of the guys. In the curve between his forefinger and thumb, his bulge was the center of attention. You stuck a sucker in your mouth to cover up your gasp. But the other ladies were too busy hooting for the first dance scene to notice.

You: “Just him? I must be slipping. Especially since I thought you really liked my shorts earlier.”

Lover Boy <3: “I like those shorts because I like taking them off. Girls night got in the way.”

You: “You’ve got to come home sometime.”

Lover Boy <3: “Then what do you have in mind?”

You turned off the flash for your camera and waited for the TV screen to illuminate your face. Sucker holding down your tongue, you sneaked the pic. Before any of the girls could see and tease you. While it sent, you sucked on the round sugar treat. You imagined Bucky’s cockhead on your tongue, as you knew he would too. His reply came in seconds.

Lover Boy <3: “Minx”

You: “And?”

Lover Boy <3: “When I do get home, I’m going to taste something sweeter. All night long.”

Lover Boy <3: “If you can handle it.”

Biting your lip, you smiled into your blanket.

You: “We both know what I can handle. But can you handle what I want to do to you?”

You: “Bet I can blow you so good you forget how to speak Russian before morning.”

You: “Actually, bet I can make you forget all your languages.”

Lover Boy <3: “An official bet?”

Now it was dangerous territory. Neither of you would wager anything that would show in public. Or bring attention from the team inside the tower. But Bucky’s winnings had a steep cost on your ability to walk the next day. Yours usually meant him taking a few days off to spend time together in some distant cabin.

You: “Do we have time to disappear to the Rockies when I win?”

Lover Boy <3: “We just finished a mission. I’m sure I can convince Steve to leave us alone… at least for several nights in a row when I win.”

It was on.

He played dirty by escaping to the bathroom to shoot you a picture of his cock. It was already thick for you, proud and flushed in his palm.

You also escaped. But the picture you sent didn’t require you to take your clothes off. All you did was tug down the front of his borrowed shirt, and splay your fingers wide between your breasts.

You: “Can’t wait to squeeze you between these.”

Lover Boy <3: “9hey now…”

Good. His texting was already stumbling.

You: *picture incoming*

All you did was rest your hand over your throat. But Bucky’s reply of a bunch of scrambled letters made you laugh. You returned to the movie.

You: “Can’t wait for you to get home. But we’ve got about 3 more hours of movies to watch. Think you can last that long?”

Lover Boy <3: “If I have to. Might have to take care of myself before then.”

Wanda looked over as you squirmed in your seat.

You: “You can’t wait for me? I’ll wait for you.”

When the movie lit up enough, you took a picture of the pillow between your thighs.

Lover Boy <3: “Promise?”

You: “Say please.”

His reply, despite the distance between text and actually hearing his voice, dripped with promise. You bit your lip, hearing his growl in your head.

Lover Boy <3: “Since when do get to make the demands around here?”

Lover Boy <3: “Please.”

You: “Since I’m home. Away from the consequences of mouthing off at you till later.”

Lover Boy <3: “You’re not sharing this conversation with the ladies are you? You’re not usually this… sassy.”

You: “This sass is rated E for everyone. But, no. This conversation is just between us.”

You: “I have to stop texting. Natasha is beginning to notice.”

Lover Boy <3: “Until I get my hands on you:”

It was several minutes until you checked your phone, waiting for the others to drop their questioning looks. When you did, you had to smother your moan. He sent one last picture of his tongue out between his fingers. A promise of delectable problems to come.

***

Somebody texted the guys when the movies were almost over. They arrived halfway through you girls cleaning up.

“How was the double feature?” Tony asked. He snagged a remaining hors d'oeuvres off the tray before Maria could stick it in the fridge.

You didn’t hear the reply. All you could focus on was how lust-blown Bucky’s eyes were as he stared you down from the other side of the room. You pressed your thighs together. If the way your chest heaved was any indication, you were in for a long night. Steve barely gave you a glance when you walked past him. Bucky gliding past made him give your departure a second look.

The hallway to your room was dark. The lights that illuminated the floor wouldn’t engage fully unless there was an emergency. Which meant that your shadow was faded against the wall. And it was fractured into several clusters of shadows at reach installation. You didn’t look back. It was part of the game. You couldn’t hear him, but sometimes you could have sworn your shadows had an extra layer.

When you reached for your door handle, another hand beat you to it. Bucky pressed up behind you, pushing you into the room and pinning you to the inside of the door as he locked it. He slid his knee between your legs. Fascinated, he enjoyed the show as you slid the apex of your thighs across the muscle he gave you. He stopped your movements with a hand on your hip, while the other lifted your wrists above your head.

“Did you actually wait, or was that a tease?” He reached into your shorts, groaning to find your slick there. While you trembled, he loudly sucked his middle finger into his mouth. “Oh, ангел, I am going to ruin you. For teasing me like you did.”

“You – you started it. Technically.”

He brought one of your hands down to rest over the front of his pants. “Maybe. But you laid down the gauntlet. How do you want to do this?”

With a grin, you wriggled out of his grasp. You walked backwards towards your bed. Bucky stalked slowly after you. Turning, you ran your hands down your sides, to your hips. And back to the curve of your ass. “Cake?” You smoothed your hands up from your rear to your breasts. “Or cookies?”

Bucky groaned. “The whole damn bakery if I can get my hands on it.” He guided you onto the bed, crawling over you in a way that stole your breath. When you tried to roll him onto his back to begin the challenge, he chuckled. “Nuh-uh. Challenger goes second.”

“But-“

He silenced you with a kiss. As he deepened it, hands kneading into your flesh and removing your clothes, your rebuttal died on your tongue. He barely pulled back enough to remove his own clothes. It wasn’t long before he was working his mouth down your body, kissing and sucking and nipping at your skin until he made it to your sex. 

Sometimes part of the challenge included a timer. Like that one gala when he dared you steal away with him during Tony’s speech, and cum before the ending round of applause. With his head buried under your dress, he won with enough time to participate in the applause for a speech you didn’t give a damn about. You didn’t find out till later that Steve had kept track of when you two disappeared and reappeared. Bucky wrote the time on your bathroom mirror as the time to beat. It had yet to be broken.

Tonight wasn’t one of those times. There was all the time in the world. All night to edge or overstimulate each other to your hearts’ content.

Breathing warm air over your sex, his grin between your thighs sent a ripple of goosebumps over your skin. You weren’t sure which was more disarming: his knowledge of your body and its sweet spots that he could make you cum in minutes, or that same knowledge used to bliss you out over hours till you couldn’t remember more than screaming his name. With his tongue, he began the challenge. As if you weren’t soaked already, he made a mess of you. Curling his fingers through your folds. Delving his tongue deep in search of the ability to taste you for days. When he scraped his teeth across your clit, the electricity tightened your fingers in his hair.

He wasn’t drawing this out. A man on a mission, Bucky was doing everything he could to bring you to the brink as fast as he could. The speed that you hurtled toward release stole your breath. That was his plan. Shock you while trying to beat his time so that you wouldn’t be able to speak. And then he’d win double the bragging rights.

And, damn him, it might just work.

Hungrily, he slurped up your pleasure. Adding a third finger to his onslaught, he curled them all to make you see stars. His metal arm flashed out to pin down your hips before you could arch away from him. The metal was cold, frigid, against your flushed skin. The difference in temperature was enough of an overload to your sparkling nerves that your eyes screwed shut. You babbled a series of sounds, making Bucky hum in delight.

But when he came up for air, gently stroking your folds to ease you down, you surprised him.

“Is that all you got, Barnes?”

“Fuck. Seriously?” He rested his cheek against the inside of your thigh.

You did your best to steady your breath. No point in revealing those six words were all you could manage. After another moment, you curled your own finger. You summoned him to hover over you, dangling his dog-tags in your face. Catching one between your teeth, you gripped and pushed his shoulders until he was on his back.

It was your turn to kiss down his body. Across his collar bone and pecs. Down that center chasm between his abs. From one hip bone, down his V, and up to the other side. As you took his length in hand, you had to smile. The poor man should have let you pleasure him first, instead of torturing himself and his cock with waiting. Gently, you circled your thumb around his tip. It dragged a groan out between his teeth. Good. The more vocal he was, the better you could track his ability to speak. Or lack thereof.

You set the challenge into the back of your mind and got to work in pleasing your man.

The first movements were gentle. And careful around how sensitive he was. Still, each touch and twist kept his voice active. He tried to watch you, but kept dropping his head back in pleasure as you quickened your movements. While he was laid back, you shifted your position.

His head snapped up, and he cursed loudly in Russian as his cock was enveloped between your breasts.

Darting out your tongue, you kitten licked the tip of his cock when it came into range. It gave you no small pleasure to watch your man, the Winter Soldier and former Commando, fall to pieces because of you. He cursed louder in English, Russian, and… was that German? But the more you jerked him between your breasts, the more his vocabulary scrambled together. You waited patiently. His metal hand twitched towards to before fisting the sheet. His flesh hand reached back for the pillows, sheets, headboard. Anything to ground himself. Then you struck. You let go of your breasts and dipped low enough to swallow him down. He roared as he bumped the back of your throat. Planting his feet on the bed, his thighs trembled with keeping himself from thrusting into your mouth.

That was fine. You moved enough for the both of you. And, just as his Russian was little more than the most strained of curses, you settled his balls into one hand, and slid the other up his torso. Your nails lightly caught his skin over his heaving breaths.

The high-pitched hiss from the depths of his lungs was your only warning before he filled your mouth.

Your ministrations slowed. You took every ounce of his pleasure, and smiled around his cock as you sucked your way off his length.

He dragged you up to bury his face in the crook of your neck. His lips trembled while trying to say something. Anything. But all he could do was pant into your skin.

You smiled. And kissed the underside of his jaw. While you both recovered, you murmured gentle reassurances between breaths.

“You cheated,” he finally managed.

“Oh? When did I manage that?”

Running his fingers through his hair, he stared you down. “Those damn shorts.”

With a laugh, you nipped at his chest. “What? You did get to take them off, like you wanted. And I can’t help it if you decided to run your hands all over me and get yourself hard. It jazzed me up too. So, in my mind, we’re even.”

“Fine.” He tilted up your face to kiss you. Mumbling against your lips, he complained, “you’re using alotta words there, ангел.”

“And you’re still capable of Russian.”

Bucky grinned. “Then I guess this challenge isn’t done.”

And it wasn’t until long into the night.

***

Ангел: angel

***

Masterlist

Marvel Masterlist 

[pekoehoneyncream]

Colonel König Headcanons

Part One!

Words: 400~

TW: None (sfw)

Part Two

Same drill as with Price, bit too many headcanons to post in one go, so we're splitting it into two.

Enjoy!

König prefers coffee over tea. His favourite drink is “Kaffee Verkehrt” which means ‘upside-down’, it's a popular specialty coffee in Austria that has more milk than coffee and is served in a tall glass.

He takes his normal coffee with lots of cream, but no sugar. He likes the sweet rich taste that whole and heavy cream has over the more typical half-and-half, he also likes that he can use less of it and still make his coffee taste creamy.

When asked how tall he is König answers 208 centimetres, and if they ask what that is in feet, he lies and says 6’8. He did not like the way people snickered when he said 6’9, so he no longer says it. No one's called him on it yet and he prays that no one ever does. 

Carries around multiple handkerchiefs. He handwashes them and keeps them clean. His mother thinks one-use tissues are a rich-man’s idiocy, and so does he.

Doesn't like being asked about his past or his family, but he'll sometimes mention his mother or an ‘Uncle Alexi' when giving advice or talking about how he learned something.

Grew up poor. Not Charlie & Chocolate Factory ‘there's only one bed and we all share it’ poor, but needing to be mindful of money, and make everything last as long as it can, repurposing things, collecting coupons, trading with neighbours, paying with meals or labour where you can. That kinda thing.

Was raised as an only child by his widowed mother. Big Momma's boy. Or Mutter's boy, in König's case. And his mother raised him right! All the aunties around their neighbourhood knew him as “Annika’s polite young man”. Annika never had to worry what the neighbours would think.

König still calls his mother every week and gets Care-Packages from her frequently. Anytime Annika finds something she thinks he'll like she sends it over, alongside a bottle of his favourite jam, and some cookies, and a new handkerchief, and etc, and etc. Every phone call includes König being asked if he's taking care of himself, when he's getting married, and if he's sent back this or that container yet. 

König sends a good two-thirds of his paycheck back home to his mother. He doesn’t need much as he's often living out of a duffle bag when on missions, and he likes his mutter to be able to live a good life without worrying about money.

There we go! I hope you enjoyed it!

I was thinking I'd post part two of Price's headcanons tomorrow, then a poll for whose headcanons to post next the day after that, then part one the winner's headcanons, then part two of König's headcanons. Etc and so on. You see how I've planned this out.

As always if there's anything you want me to write about please let me know, my ask box is Open!

PekoeHoneynCream's Masterlist

[honeysghost]

Warm Honey

Pairing: Porter/Treasure

Word count: 1,179

Porter and Treasure won the poll I put out, so here’s some mushy sick comfort featuring my favorite freaks 🖤 Up next (a lot sooner than you'd think) is Guy and Honey!

The AO3 version if you prefer: Warm Honey - honeysghost

“I’ll admit, when I decided to pay you a visit I was hoping for something… more, yes—but you’re clearly not up to the task, Treasure, and that’s not your fault.” Porter’s voice feels like honey in their ears. 

He’d dropped the usual bite in favor of something much softer after one look at them, knowing sex should be the last thing on their mind right now.

“I know, but I still feel bad. You came all this way and-”

“Treasure.” 

He places a hand on their cheek and face their head in his direction. “You are the only thing I’m concerned with right now. Whatever came before, whatever comes after, none of it matters if you aren’t in good condition.” 

They stifle a laugh at his phrasing. 

“Good condition,” they repeat, giving him a funny look. “Like I’m some worn down item at the thrift store?”

“Well, if you’re just going to make fun of me the whole time…” He makes a show of turning around, putting one foot toward the door. 

They catch his wrist with their hand, wrapping shakey fingers around him. “Stay, please.”

It’s not often Porter finds himself unable to ascribe words to a feeling, but being around Treasure seemed to elicit that response more and more. It’s odd, he thinks, being wanted the way they want him. It’s not sexual—at least not all the time. 

They want him simply because his presence brings them comfort. 

The strangeness of it all isn’t lost on Treasure, either. They found it just as weird to seek comfort in him, safety, warmth. This man, this decades old vampire—who kicked off their… whatever you could call this by telling them they had shit friends and asking to drink from them in some piss-soaked alley only 20 minutes after first meeting.

He was even an assassin of sorts. No one in their right mind would see all those bloodstained red flags and still jump into bed with him at any given chance.

His hands find their shoulders, spinning them around to walk down the hall, leading them toward their bedroom.

“We always end up back here,” they remark, smiling to themselves at the thought of having him in their bed again. 

It had been too long since the last time—which was half the reason they’d been so eager to have him, despite being sick. 

Every inch of their body craved his touch.

“You’re trouble,” Porter chides, fighting a smile of his own as the memories of all their late night dalliances surface in his mind.

When they’re settled into their bed, he heads back to the kitchen in search of tea. It wasn’t so irregular for them to start an evening slow, often finding Treasure cooking something whenever he comes over. 

They’d chat idly about their days until their plates were cleared, make tea afterward to relax just a little before getting on with their more… aerobic activities. It was an easy sort of routine they’d found themselves settling into.

When Porter arrives in the bedroom again, their favorite mug in hand, Treasure looks paler than they were when he left. He sets the tea down on the nightstand and presses his hand to their forehead.

It feels like heaven, Treasure thinks. They can’t help but lean into the touch, his cold skin soothing their feverish head. When he pulls away, they let out a small whine, reaching for him again.

At this, he laughs. He’d gotten used to them being a little needy, but that was usually reserved for after they were finished exhausting each other. 

“I made you tea.” He settles into the bed beside them, wrapping an arm around their shoulder and sighing contentedly when they lean into him further, nuzzling into his neck. 

“What kind?”

“The kind that’s good for you,” Porter sighs, pushing their head back and picking the mug up again, bringing it to their lips.

They make a face when they taste it, scrunching up their nose at the amount of honey he’d put in it. “Too sweet,” they whine.

He scoffs, taking a sip for himself. 

“It tastes fine, darling. You’re being dramatic—honey is good when you’re sick.” 

They mime gagging, fighting a smile when he rolls his eyes at their antics.

“Hush.”

They curl up against him once more, resuming their previous position with their face buried in his neck. “You feel so good,” they mumble, breathing him in.

“You’re delirious,” he smiles, brushing off the compliment.

Treasure focuses on the steady beating of Porter’s heart, letting the sound lull them into a calm state.

If they had the energy, they would think about how easy it was to relax when he held them. A hand on their hip, the sound of his breathing, the way he would kiss the top of their head when they were quiet for too long—it was his way of reminding them he was there, that he wasn’t going to just take what he came for and leave, he would stick around a while longer.

“I really am sorry,” they sigh, lifting their head to meet his gaze. “I should’ve told you I was sick, and you didn’t need to come over.”

Porter looks them over for a moment, his brows quirked like he doesn’t understand why they keep apologizing.

“I told you, darling, it’s no bother.”

Treasure nods, not quite satisfied or rid of guilt, but tired enough to let it go.

“Will you stay the whole night? It’s silly, but I feel better knowing you’re here… just in case I get worse or something.”

Or something… If he picked up on their meaning, he didn’t comment on it, instead just agreeing to stay—something Treasure was immensely grateful for.

There were going to be other times much more suited for a proper feelings talk. Neither of them seemed ready for that, anyway. They would much rather settle for the strange kind of uncommitted-commitment they had going on.

“If I knew enough about healing magic, I would offer to speed up your recovery.”

Treasure hums sleepily in response, questions about magic running through their head that they file away for later. “That’s alright, this is enough.” 

Porter lets out a breathy laugh. “This? Me holding you? That’s all it takes, is it?”

They close their eyes, readjusting into a more comfortable position, throwing one leg over Porter’s. “Must be the magic.” 

“Hm. Must be.”

The overwhelming amount of heat radiating off their body makes Porter wiggle around until half his body is outside the blankets in an attempt to regulate his own body temperature. 

He runs a hand through their hair, ignoring the flutter in his chest when they let out a soft moan at the touch.

“Do you want me to put you to sleep?”

“Like a toddler?”

Another laugh. “No, Treasure. With magic.”

“Oh, no. 'M sleepy enough already.” 

Porter presses a kiss to their hair, and another to their temple, before closing his own eyes and waiting for their breath to even out.

“Sleep well, darling.”

[papaya-inspiration]

What is your distinction between a tisane and an herbal tea? My understanding is that a tisane is a tea made from plants that aren't the traditional tea plant, and thus would cover everything I normally think of as an herbal tea (e.g. chamomile, mint, cinnamon, various floral teas.)

[danandphilplay]

this doesn’t have to be alcoholic bc it can apply to non alcoholic drinks too. for example i don’t really care about coffee unless it’s very sweet however my brother hates sweet coffee and will only drink it black. weirdly i can’t drink tea if it’s sugary UNLESS obviously it’s peach iced tea. but in this case i mean like. uk breakfast tea.

i couldn’t remember if i actually posted this or not but i don’t think i did. anyways that made me decide to create an actual tagging system for dif polls however i haven’t had time to finish tagging stuff (i have almost a year’s worth of polls to go through could take awhile) but when i have done that i’ll do an intro post thing explaining the tags. idk if anyone will be interested to look through them but i think i have reached a point where i need a tagging system lol i cant remember anything. also means if anyone wants to submit a poll its easy to check whats been polled already!:)

[diagoose]

i'm gonna do a seperate poll for japanese teas,

[cleolinda]

Tea preferences

From what I've heard, people who drink hot tea feel very strongly about it, and so I am not making any kind of poll for this because I learned my lesson about polls two weeks ago, damn.

My Mountain Dew habit has resurfaced, right as my doctor also wants me to bring my blood sugar levels down. I have chronic fatigue issues because blah blah blah and I need caffeine mid-morning. So I've started drinking hot (black) tea again, and it gives me a mild lift with no sugar crash, so I'm interested in what y'all drink. Mostly I drink English breakfast with milk (around a latte proportion) and a spoonful of honey, because I like honey. I'm thinking of trying Irish breakfast to level up the caffeine. A maltier flavor, I know, but I think I've tried it before and it was fine.

(I like strong tea to go with all that milk, so I use two tea bags in a large cup for five minutes, which apparently horrified an online friend of my sister's--an Englishman who insisted that Proper Tea is meant to brew for about thirty seconds, even though I am following the instructions on the Twinings box, Arthur, and it doesn't come out bitter at all, how am I out here in Alabama drinking stronger tea than you? I don't even know what he thought about the honey.)

I started out drinking Earl Grey because I like bergamot (I may do a Bergamot in Perfume post at some point), but ultimately, I think I like my Basic Black Tea Latte setup. If you drink hot black tea, what brand do you drink, what do you put in it, how long do you steep it, are you horrified by my methods (I stand defiant)?

[annaholak]

Wyrd Sisters Tea Poll (Part 3)

We all know witches love tea. We also know they're practical, and therefore would probably prefer teabags over loose leaf. But what brand of tea, and what kind of tea would each member of our beloved Lancre coven prefer (if they lived in modern day UK)?

Lets finish with none other than - drumroll please -

Magrat Garlick

Even though the mighty herbalist, that Magrat Garlick is, would succumb to the (unspoken) peer pressure of the older members of the Lancre coven and drink black tea, she herself would probably prefer something slightly different. But what? Would she go with the calming camomile tea, a sweet strawberry and raspberry infusion, some green (plain, or jasmine) tea, an organic rooibos infusion, or maybe the trendy matcha?

Lets vote!

If you answered "Other", please specify in the comments/tags/wherever I might see it. Same goes if you want to add anything about your choice, tea in general, the British and their habits, the Lancre witches, and so on and so forth.

Have fun!

[sunnyrosewritesstuff]

Round 1, Poll 12

Heart of the Mountain: (Arkenstone is Bad News)

Thorin approached Bilbo trying to grasp onto him only for his hand to slide straight through him. His eyes widened even more. No! This wasn’t right! What kind of magic is this? Thorin met Bilbo’s eyes. Desperation against misery and vowed he would do whatever he could for their burglar. Before he could utter a word though, boots clamored down the steps towards them.

“Thorin! Are you okay?”

“We heard a shout!”

“We’re done here!” He called back. “We…Bilbo is…”

He decided not to finish that thought. They would find out for themselves soon enough after all. Dwalin was the first to reach him.

Fighting for a Dragon's Wish: (Dragonball Z AU)

Tea did not seem to be the preferred drink of the Ereborians judging by the way they guzzled his ale. Although, there was a nice silver-haired one who preened over Bilbo’s camomile. Bilbo learned that their appetites could rival his own, and he frequently made trips into town to pick up more food. By the time he returned that evening, he was completely over having aliens in his home, on his planet for that matter.

“So why the Arkenstone?” Bilbo asked the older one who at least seemed courteous enough to have a conversation with.

Before he could answer Bilbo, the king interrupted with a sneer.

[justcuriouspolls]

Another note - I did actually make a similar poll to this back when this blog was first created, and since this blog has gotten more popular since then I’m intrigued for the results with (give or take) ten times as many votes

[omegapheromone]

Dear Misce Folk, do you like the flavour of your own scent?

It's time for another misce poll, inspired by the fact that I found peach-flavoured monster ultra at the nearby store and it made me think about how it's sort of interesting that I absolutely love anything and everything peach-flavoured, which is also the base note of my own scent, and I started wondering if liking similar flavours to one's own scent is a common thing for misce folk.

It may be hard to interpret this question if you have a scent that isn't exactly a flavour, if your scent has multiple notes/layers, or is otherwise complex. Here are some examples on how to interpret this poll:

Viable example: your scent is vanilla. Answer the question as "Do you like vanilla-flavoured things?"

Viable example: your scent is equal parts wood smoke and coffee. Answer the question as "do you like foods with a smoky aroma" OR as "do you like coffee and/or coffee-flavoured things?" (Whichever you like)

Viable example: your scent is old books with a side note of whiskey and a very, very faint hint of sea salt. Answer the question as "do you like whiskey, whiskey-flavoured things, and/or foods/drinks that contain whiskey as a flavouring?" (Answer based on the strongest "edible" thing that is a part of your scent)

Viable example: your scent is cigarettes and old leather. Answer the question as "do you like the taste of cigarettes?/do you smoke cigarettes?" (Technically, cigarettes are not eaten, but they are consumed as a flavour in some sense, so they can be counted as somewhat of an exception to the rule. Also no judgement whether you do smoke or not.)

Viable example: your scent is lavender. Answer the question as "do you like lavender tea and/or other lavender-flavoured things?" (It's not a common food flavour, and is more associated with scented items such as candles or soaps, but it does exist as a fairly common flavour of tea. Answer based on this. For other floral type scents, try to figure out if they are often used as flavourings in things- cherry blossoms are often during the spring season, for example, but lily-of-the-valleys aren't, especially since they're poisonous.)

NOT VIABLE: your scent is earth after the rain. While you can technically lick the ground after it rains, you're not going to find it as a flavouring for actual foodstuffs meant to be eaten and enjoyed. Novelty items such as "beanboozled jelly beans" which are meant to taste like inedible things DO NOT count. Please pick the first option ("my scent can't be a flavour")

With that out of the way finally, here's the actual poll;

Feel free to elaborate in the notes! I'm curious to know if this is a common experience for misce folk.