chocolate-slab

harry potter rated by references to chocolate
  • philosopher's stone: First introduction into chocolate for Harry after a life with the Dursleys. Harry's first birthday cake was chocolate. + Hagrid gave him a chocolate/raspberry ice cream at Fortescue's. ALSO CHOCOLATE FROGS EVERYWHERE. They are big plot point too! a sturdy introduction: 8/10
  • chamber of secrets: Hermione savagely uses chocolate cake to trick Crabbe and Goyle. But, most importantly, if Dumbledore wasn't getting hot chocolate Colin Creevey would have probably died. proving again, chocolate saves lives. A steaming book for hot chocolate with 3 mentions. decent: 5/10
  • prisoner of azkaban: absolute PEAK. A whooping 27 references. A chocolate reference every 9 pages! Honeydukes is introduced!!! "Hundreds of different kinds of chocolate in neat rows", Slabs and bars galore! + chocolate is canonly used as a remedy for sadness!! chocolate queen™, remus Lupin helps the cause with his generous handing out of chocolate. Also, Pomfrey even provided a boulder sized block, complete with a hammer to collect chunks, ingenious. EVEN THE MINISTER FOR MAGIC insisted on Harry having chocolate! -5 points because Harry says he's sick of chocolate ate the end. Yet, still a solid 11/10
  • goblet of fire: The Fat Lady makes an excellent choice by getting drunk off chocolate liqueurs, a+ example of combining chocolate and alcohol. Ron got some chocolate from Hagrid for having a sneaky lil niffler... the BIGGEST disappointment is Molly Weasley sending Hermione a tiny chocolate egg instead of a dragon sized one like harry and ron because of a Rita Skeeter™ rumour she's with Krum and Harry?? like wtff a grown ass woman almost made a child cry because of their passive aggressive chocolate giving 1/10
  • order of the phoenix: Hermione gave two boxes of chocolate for Harry's birthday, but teenage angst™ harry throws them out. Poor form m8. Also, he has a weird dream about Cedric, Cho and chocolate frogs?? Why bro. Additionally, Harry and Ginny have a romantical moment as she gives him chocolate... Before Madam Pince screams "CHOCOLATE IN THE LIBRARY- OUT- OUT!" Classic choco madness! Overall, a wild ride on the chocolate train. maybe too wild. im going with a 6/10
  • half-blood prince: Romilda Vane tried to spike Harry through chocolate cauldrons -30 points... Furthermore, Tom Riddle kills Hepzibah Smith with hot cocoa and uses that death to make a horcrux. An absolute shocker! Chocolate used to make Voldemort immortal!!! and to murder!!! improper use of a sacred food: -282939399/10
  • deathly hallows: Wow, disappointing. One chocolate card wrapper on the floor, a chocolate card and french chocolate from the Delacours. 3 mentions in 197,651 words. Disgraceful. I reckon there's correlation between how happy a story is and the amount of chocolate references. conclusively: appalling 0.015/10
  • bonus fantastic beasts: "But I made 'em cocoa?". excellent start, promising: 7/10
To Care For A Niffler

I couldn’t resist, and so here’s a short piece inspired by this gorgeous art by @ginger11-on ​ . I hope you don’t mind! @funkzpiel ​ if you be interested :3


There’s a warm weight on Percival’s stomach when he wakes up, and he opens his eyes to an unusually quiet Niffler lying dispiritedly on him. The little critter only chatters weakly at the man before burrowing deeper into Percival’s bed clothes. The Auror sits up, worried because the Niffler seems sick and Newt isn’t around. There’s a note on the bedside table, and Newt’s messily scrawled that he’s out to gather herbs for his Niffler, and that could Percival please keep it with him at all times? There’s a post script note, that says the Niffler needs body heat, and it should be kept wrapped in a blanket at all times. Loki (Percival decides that he can’t keep calling it, it) stares woefully at him through slightly watery beady eyes and croaks pitifully, and Percival’s heart melts because pest though Loki might be, Percival’s grown quite fond of him, despite his constantly disappearing cufflinks. And besides, the little thin looks absolutely pathetic lying there shivering, its tail tucked around its little body. Percival sighs and scoops Loki up, wrapping him in a warm, fluffy towel that it immediately burrows into, and sets about his daily routine. It’s a good thing it’s his day off today; he can already imagine how his Aurors would look at him carrying a sick Niffler around.

It’s quite a task, cradling the limp Niffler in one hand while shaving with the other. Somehow, he manages to not slit his throat, but the real problem is when he wants to take a bath. Raising Loki to his eye level, Percival, very seriously, addresses the creature, “I’m going to take a shower now, so you stay put, alright?” Loki huffs, as if saying “you think I’m going anywhere, pal?” Percival, not quite trusting it, showers with the door open and with one eye trained on Loki. All right. Personal care routine, check. Time for breakfast.  Man and creature move to the kitchen, and Percival manages to fish out a hot water bottle after a little rummage in the cupboards, and filling it with hot water, slips it under Loki’s blanketed body and make sure it’s not scalding to it. Pleased with his innovation, Percival proceeds to fry an egg and some bacon, and feeds a small slab of chocolate to Loki. They eat their food respectively, staring at one another, and Percival feels somewhat ridiculous sharing a table with the pilfering thing. Adorable, but still a thief.

The rest of the day goes by rather unspectacularly. The sick Niffler is thankfully compliant, and only slips in and out of bouts of sleep. Despite the hot water bottle, Loki seems to prefer Percival’s body heat, and curls deeper into him, snuffling happily. He rubs its soft fur gently, a look of exasperated fondness in his eyes as Loki chitters contentedly from the warmth and attention. Looking at the clock hanging on the wall, Percival wonders if Newt is alright; it’s getting rather late and still his red-head beau isn’t back yet. The fire is roaring in the fireplace, there’s a mug of hot cocoa on the table next to him, and there are the fuzzy slippers Newt gifted him the Christmas before on his feet. The warm weight of the Niffler on his lap, and the blanket currently covering them both, lulls Percival to sleep, and his eyelids flutter close as the clock strikes 10.

Newt’s return home is quiet and unannounced, save for the slight creaking of the front door, and the thud as he removes his shoes. He’s about to head to the kitchen to grind the paste for his poor Niffler, when he sees Percival’s silhouette on the armchair before the fire. Curious, he inches forward, and his heart melts because there is his love with his Niffler, both sleeping soundly, and the little creature is even growling softly in sleep. Newt moves closer and places a hand on the soft fur of the Niffler, smiling when he feels the fever has gone down. Said creature opens its eyes, and immediately chatters at the sight of his mummy. Newt picks the little bundle up with a twinkle in his eye, and as the blanket leaves Percival’s body, the dark haired man awakens. His dark eyes meet the green eyes of his partner, and he smiles crookedly before yawning. Newt beckons him to the kitchen, and Percival finds Loki thrusted into his hold as Newt grinds up the herbs he’s collected into a paste, and adding water and some honey, feeds the medicine to the Niffler who’s snorting and trying to get away from the medicine. Newt is firm as he coaxes its beak open and gets the medicine in, and Percival laughs because the look of disgust on Loki’s face is hilariously human. Loki is placated however, when Newt feeds him some worms and a small piece of chocolate, and it settles in Percival’s hold sedately.

They go to bed after that, and the Niffler is happily burrowing in the pile of blankets, making a mess as usual. Percival helps a sleepy Newt remove his clothes and into his bedclothes, and they fall into bed, careful not to squish an indignant Loki, obviously feeling much better. They fall asleep holding hands, and it’s a good night’s sleep for them both. Until they wake up the next day and find that Loki’s stolen every shiny thing in their room for his nest. Needless to say, both men gain great pleasure in tickling its stomach and forcing everything out. Blasted pilferer.

Territorial. (Tyler Joseph x Reader)

“This is my life now. I have climbed this hill and now I will die upon it.”

“Shut up. We’ve only been hiking for twenty minutes.”

Tyler groaned in displeasure and put on a fake cry as he reluctantly continued slogging his way towards the distant opening where the two of you planned to camp out.

You turned to the boy behind you with a pinched expression. “Let’s not forget; this was your idea.”

“When I said that we should camp out, I was thinking more along the lines of in the backyard; not the top of a mountain!”

“It’s not a mountain. It’s barely even a hill,” you corrected. “And I used to come to this place all the time when I was younger. You’ll love it, trust me.”

Tyler let out an overly dramatic sigh and followed behind you as you led your way to the clearing.

After another twenty minutes, which consisted of several complaints and constant nagging from Tyler, you arrived at your destination. Even though you hadn’t visited the site in years, it still looked precisely how you remembered it; the location brought back fond memories, and sent a wave of nostalgia through you, making you smile as you reminisced about the good times you’d spent there with your family.

“Finally,” Tyler huffed, sighing in relief as he tossed his backpack onto the dirt ground beside him.

“You’re such a weakling,” you taunted, resting your hands on your hips as you watched Tyler, who was thirstily slurping at a bottle of water while trying to regain his breath. “That wasn’t even a proper hike.”

“(Y/N), my body isn’t equipped for such things. You know this.”

“Oh, but you can scale a twenty-foot structure without a problem?”

Vertical twenty-foot structures.”

You rolled your eyes and returned to reminiscing. A familiar tree caught your eye and you gave a small smile as you approached it, running your fingers along the letters that were carved into its bark.

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N),” Tyler read aloud as he appeared next to you, wincing a bit as he rubbed a stitch that had formed in his side. “When did you do this?”

“When I was eight,” you chuckled, thinking back to that night. “It was the fifth time, I think, that my parents brought my brothers and I up here. And at that point, we kinda felt like it belonged to us. So (Y/B/N) thought we should make sure everyone knew.” You pointed at the other side of the tree, where two other sets of names were – your brothers’.

“Wow,” Tyler said in amazement. “I didn’t know that being territorial ran in the family.” He gave you a sly smirk, and you knew that he was referring to the hickeys you’d regularly leave on his skin.

“Shut up,” you muttered under your breath as you punched him lightly in the shoulder, avoiding his gaze out of embarrassment. “Sun’s gonna set soon, we should get the tent set up.”

Tyler sniggered at your clear embarrassment and turned to follow you back to where your bags were, helping you remove the tent poles from its holder.

Ten minutes later, the sun had almost disappeared on the horizon. Tyler was relaxing in a camping chair, taking occasional sips from a can of soda he held in his hand, the other draped casually over the arm rest.

“Perfect,” you beamed happily, brushing the dirt from your clothes as you stood up and took a step back to admire your handiwork.

“It looks great, angel!” Tyler yelled out.

“Yeah, no thanks to you,” you scoffed. “You were no help at all.”

“Hey, I told you, I’m no good when it comes to this sorta things,” he said defensively.

“You could’ve helped at least a little bit.”

“I tried! But then you told me to… I’m not gonna repeat what you said because it wasn’t very nice,” he pouted, moving to an upright position.

“You almost impaled me with a tent pole!”

“Which is why I’m better off over here!”

“Ugh, whatever,” you groaned. “Grab a jacket and a flashlight, we’re going exploring.”

~

The sun had long set, and the moon had taken its place, casting an eerie glow around the surrounding trees as you and Tyler strolled through the forest.

Tyler was distinctively on edge, not at all a fan of this particular activity, afraid that a wild animal might emerge from the proximate darkness and attack, or, even worse, a supernatural being would appear.

“It’s kinda creepy out here…” Tyler whimpered, scooting closer to you.

“Aw, are you scared?” you teased. “Does baby wanna go home?”

“Screw you,” he hissed.

“At least I’m not a coward,” you retorted.

The two of you walked in silence for a little more, the only sounds coming from crickets and from Tyler’s laboured breathing.

“BOO!”

Tyler screamed like a five-year old girl and dropped his flashlight, sprinting back towards the campsite, screaming all the way as you doubled over in laughter.

It took you significantly longer than it should have to get back to the campsite, considering that you carried on laughing all the way back, the picture of your boyfriend’s terrified face still fresh in your memory.

When you did eventually saunter into the clearing, Tyler sat huddled near the fire, evidently unimpressed with you. “You’re a world-class jerk, you know that?”

You attempted to cease your laughter as best you could, but seeing Tyler sitting on the ground, glaring up at you with narrow eyes, you couldn’t help but let out another string of giggles, which made him even angrier.

“I’m sorry, Ty,” you cooed, reaching out to hug him, but he rejected you by swatting your hands away. “But you’re just too easy.”

Tyler didn’t respond, and instead shot glares your way every two seconds.

“Would some s’mores cheer you up?” you asked, holding up bags of marshmallows and chocolate.

You giggled as his eyes lit up and he scrambled to his feet, running to find some sticks you could use. You opened the bag of marshmallows, chocolate slab and packet of crackers and began decanting them into containers as Tyler returned, two long sticks in one hand and his ukulele in the other; the prospect of him playing a couple songs by the campfire brought a huge smile to your face.

Three hours, ten s’mores and lots of ukulele playing later, your eyes started to droop as you leaned on Tyler’s shoulder, arms linked as you huddled against him while he continued strumming and humming along softly.

“That’s a nice tune, Ty,” you purred, nuzzling against him.

“Thank you, (Y/N).”

“Is it for the new album?” you yawned, fighting to keep your eyes open.

He shrugged. “Maybe. It’s just something I’m messing around with. I like it a lot, but there’s something that’s wrong. Or missing. I don’t know. But I’m hoping that the more that I manipulate it, it’ll eventually click. And then-“ he stopped when he looked down at you and saw that you had drifted off during his ramble. It didn’t bother him, though. You were his number one supporter – well, behind Josh, of course – and he knew that you would’ve listened and showed interest like you normally would, if you were able to stay awake.

He chuckled and leaned down to place a kiss on your forehead before going back to strumming.

“Sleep well, angel.”

~

“Got everything, angel?” Tyler called out to you as you stood examining the carved tree with narrowed eyes.

“Yeah, everything’s packed,” you responded, taking a step closer to the tree and running your hand over the engraving. “Tyler?”

“Yeah?”

“Did you do this?”

“Do what?” he asked innocently.

You pointed at the tree.

“Nope. Wasn’t me,” he said casually, gathering all the bags and starting down the path back to the car. “You coming or not?”

You scoffed incredulously as you watched your boyfriend disappear down the hill. Turning to the tree again, you ran your fingers over the bark one last time as a smile played on your lips before turning to catch up with Tyler, the image of the words carved into your mind.

                                                  (Y/N)(Y/L/N)

                                                      loves

                                              TYLER JOSEPH

_______________________________

Thank you for reading x

It’s been several years since Carl’s allowed himself to think of Christmas at all. When the apocalypse had first started, they’d all been in a sort of limbo phase of thinking which even nearly seven years later Carl can still remember as one of the most disoriented periods of his life. His mother and Shane had both spent quite some time trying to convince him that everything would go back to normal soon, that the walkers were only a temporary problem, a sickness that would be quickly eradicated, like bird flu, or typhoid fever. That they’d be back home for Christmas, maybe even for Thanksgiving.

Except winter had come and gone with nothing to mark it. No tinsel, no lights, no trees outside of the ones Carl and the rest of the group ran through and slept in, like a bad camping trip that never ended. The walkers hadn’t gone away, either; they’d multiplied, staggering, infesting Carl’s world, ruining everything. Gaunt and peeling away at their edges. And then spring, another summer—Carl’s twelfth birthday in there somewhere, though by that point they’d stopped trying to mark the days on the calendar—and then fall, and Shane died, and Carl stopped trying to find the good in anything for a long time.

So he hasn’t let himself remember Christmas. It was always more his mom’s holiday than his dad’s anyway, with the tree and the cookies and making sure the stockings were stuffed full of little racecars and Hershey’s and, once, memorably, a PS3, laid flat underneath the bulging weight of the stocking itself. And it’s hard to remember holidays, easier to forget, when there’s no guarantee the people you love will be around to celebrate them. When you’ve grown up with a gun in your hand, blood and guts on your shirt. When you’re only seventeen and you’ve got one eye and nightmares that come every night in torrents and no way of escaping, not for the rest of your life.

He didn’t think anyone else was really thinking of holidays like Christmas anymore either, which is why he’s surprised, one morning, to wake and find Negan draping Christmas lights over the edge of their doorway, draping them over the bedposts.

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xf fic: date of birth

Summary: Five of William Van de Kamp’s birthdays.

hey i’m only a month late, right? this has literally been in my drafts forever. also m/s are barely in the damn thing yet i still managed to make it all about them. show-stealers.

i.

His mother bounces him on her hip as his family sings “Happy Birthday”. She sets him down in what they almost exclusively refer to as a “big boy chair” while everyone claps. William reaches for the slab of chocolate cake, and smears icing along the surface of the table. He giggles as he stuffs a chunk in his mouth. “What a messy boy,” his mother says affectionately as she wipes a brown stain off the tip of his nose.

“I am messy,” he agrees. He holds up three fingers to display how many he is.

“How do you know his real birthday?” his grandmother wants to know. Secretly, William hates her presents - mostly uncomfortable clothes. He doesn’t her voice, either - she sounds like his mom when he does something bad, right before he’s put in time-out.

“It was on his birth certificate,” his father says uncomfortably, brushing a hand over his son’s hair.

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We’d Never Forget! : Pack Imagine

OMG Guys! I just hit 200 followers! That’s insane thank you guys so much! I wanna do an extra special imagine for you guys so send in your requests! And I hope you like anon! It wasn’t identical to your request but I got a little caught up in it oops!

Birthdays are weird. Why celebrate the fact that you’re getting older? But when I was thrown head first into the supernatural world I soon realised that birthdays were more milestones on the fact that you actually lived through another year.

“Lydia did you bring in all the presents?” I ask, flipping through my checkboard as I scanned the table for all the brightly coloured boxes I had seen a second ago, stuffing another handful of crisps in my mouth.

“They’re upstairs, I’ll go get them.” The redhead rushed up the stairs, leaving me impressed by the way she ran in her heels as easily as if they were trainers. Now that’s talent.

“Malia how’s music?” I call over and Malia’s head pops up into view as does two wires she’s trying to force together that definitely don’t belong together. I frown worriedly, pushing another piece of chocolate in my packed mouth.

“Someone help her, she’s gonna electrocute herself. Oh god Kira!” I say frantically herding Kira towards Malia. She hurries over and pulls the two wires from Malia’s hands, which were starting to spark.

“Stiles! Scott! How are decorations going?” I ask, looking around impressed at the streamers and confetti covering the tables. I turn to look at Scott and Stiles blowing up balloons. Well, Scott was, Stiles was rambling.

“Do you ever think about how weird balloons are? It’s like “hey happy birthday! Here’s a sack of my used oxygen.” Scott looks at me with a plead of help in his eyes and I grin, swallowing my big mouthful.

“Stiles sweetie, we can determine the existence of balloons later?” I ask and Stiles laughs before nodding, putting another balloon in his mouth.

I turn slightly to read the banner on the wall, “Happy Birthday! You made it another year!” I reel back around on Stiles.

“Did you get that?!” I cry, pointing frantically at the banner, using a sausage on a stick as a pointer. Stiles smirks proudly before nodding. “You’re messed up!” I laugh, pointing at his face but decide to leave the banner up, thinking that it left a very Stiles-y feel to the room.

I eat my sausage, instantly reaching for the platter for another. My hand was batted away by an orange balloon and I was met with an intense look from Stiles.

“If I’m not allowed to eat anything that means I’m cutting you off as well! If I’m going down, everyone’s coming with me!” I laughed at the force in his voice and the drama on his face.

“Okay fine.” I sigh when suddenly my phone beeps. I unlock it and flick open my messages.

On our way home be there in 5 – Derek

“Okay guys!” I shout catching everyone’s attention. “The boys are on their way back so make sure everything’s ready and then hide!”

Lydia finishes laying out the presents, adjusting them to find the most picturesque look. Kira finally manages to get the music working, gently pushing Malia’s hands away from the brightly coloured wires that had grabbed Malia’s attention.

Scott and Stiles throw the remainder of the non-blown up balloons behind the couch before throwing themselves behind it as well, dipping down and out of site.

I hit the lights and the room was in instant darkness as I duck behind the stairs, now hearing Derek and Liam’s footsteps.

“What’s goi-“Malia started but was muffled by Kira covering her mouth as we all intensely shushed her as the footsteps got louder.

The door creaked open and as it did I flipped on the light switch, lighting up Liam’s shocked face and Derek’s grinning one.

“Happy birthday sweetheart!” I shout and everyone breaks into applause.

Liam’s chin crumples and I could see tears fill his eyes as a shaky smile makes its way to his face.

“Aww sweetie.” I coo, feeling my motherly instinct skyrocket as I grab the beta into a tight hug.

“I thought everyone forgot.” Liam mumbles, “Or didn’t care.” I pull back slightly to grab his chin, looking into his watery blue eyes. “Of course we do! We love you too much!”

Liam’s face breaks into an adorable grin as I pull him in for another hug. “Get me cake.” I say to Scott, who tilts his head confused but hands me a paper plate with a slab of chocolate cake on it.

“What’s it for?” He asks and I look at him like it’s the most obvious thing. “I wanted cake.” I state and Liam giggles, pulling away as I bite into my cake. I suddenly get an amazing idea, one so great I broke into a big smile.

“Oh I have the perfect birthday present for you!” I squeal before turning round to face everyone.

“Stilinski!” I shout and everyone’s head snaps to look at Stiles, who looked like a deer caught in the headlights, with his face now covered in chocolate.

“Seeing as its Liam’s birthday I think it’s about time you tell him you love him now.” My face breaks out into a wicked grin as Stiles’ jaw drops with horror and everyone bursts out laughing.

“Go on.” I press, smirking at Stiles face. Stiles purses his lips before saying, “Love you kid, you’re my favourite beta.” Liam beams at him and Scott leans over and high fives me.

“Let’s get the party started!” Malia exclaims, heading for the big speakers. “No, no, no, no!” Kira says, rushing after her and I giggle.

Everyone says Lydia throws the best parties in Beacon Hills but I swear this party was a huge rival. Everybody was laughing and dancing, me and Stiles were stuffing our faces at the snack bar and I’ve never seen Liam happier.

He started going round, thanking everyone, starting with Lydia who hugged him tightly and kissed his cheek, leaving a red lipstick mark on his cheek. Both Kira and Malia enveloped him in a massive hug wishing him a happy birthday.

Scott pulled him into a brotherly hug and both exchanged smiles. Liam then moved to Derek and I saw him hesitate, unsure on whether or not he’s even be allowed a hug but to everyone’s surprise Derek grabbed Liam round the neck and pulled him into a hug.

He clapped him on the back a couple of times before saying, “Happy Birthday Kid!”

I smiled to myself, happy to see the whole pack getting along. Liam comes up to Stiles and I .Stiles ruffles his hair and yanks him in for a bear hug. Once he pulls away Stiles dashes over to Scott, with a gleam of mischief in his eyes.

Liam slips his arm around me waist, leaning his head on my shoulder. “Thank you so much.” He says and I smile warmly before kissing his forehead. “Happy birthday sweetheart.”

Soul Mates Ch2

 ( previous) 

Summary: In the aftermath of a battle Error is about to kill Ink but to his surprise discovers they share the same health value…

Words: 3421    Characters: Error and Ink

Notes:     (o´∀`o) Thanks for your support guys! I love your comments and messages sent to me♥

—–

Error woke in the typical way  he had done a thousand times,  with a growl from his stomach and a clench in his chest.  Hunger pains to stir him awake.  Sometimes things would fall in the void.  When  he was younger… it was one of the first signs things existed outside of this plane. It was also how he sustained himself. Drops of water… rotten food, it was rare a treat would drop through. Food wrappers he could lick clean. It was a couple months before he learned how these things fell through and followed the tears to other worlds.

That was the one good thing about the mistake universes. Food. Something so precious and delicious was produced from the trash heaps of those fucked up worlds. Error often kept a stash of junk food around from one of his raids but judging by the peaceful nothingness around him he had probably already dumped the last of those wrappers in Underfell. All that remains in his corner of the void are some string he had to put up so he would stop knocking himself into the wall.

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Intense and rich dark chocolate, introducing “The dark blend”.


Dark chocolate, with its rich and at times intense flavour is certainly a “love it or hate it” type of chocolate. However, its unique flavour makes it the ideal companion for flavour packed fillings. So prepare to enter into the shadows of the chocolate spectrum with “The dark blend”.


The dark blend.

This recipe will produce approximately 62g of dark chocolate. Since this is quite a small amount I would highly recommend repeating the stages of “Making, The dark blend, steps 1-7” before moving on to tempering.


Ingredients:

  • 30g Cacao butter.
  • 25g Icing sugar.
  • 7g Cacao powder. 


Instructions:

Making, The dark blend, steps 1-7.

  1. Blend the icing sugar, cacao powder together in an electric blender until smooth and flour like in consistency.
  2. Next, begin to melt the 30g of cacao butter in a heat proof glass jug using the hair dryer method as covered in (insert link here). Melt the butter down until there is only a few lumps left solid. The residual heat left in the glass and the molten butter will melt the remaining lumps without any need of further heat.
  3. Gently heat the pestle and mortar using the lowest heat setting of your hair dryer until it is no longer cool to the touch.
  4. Pour the now fully melted cacao butter into the mortar, followed by the icing sugar and cacao powder mix.
  5. Begin to conche the mixture using the pestle for around 10 minutes, by mixing and grinding the mixture. If the chocolate begins to thicken while conching, heat it gently using the low heat setting on your hair dryer until it has thinned.
  6. After conching for around 10 minutes, pour the melted chocolate into a clean, plastic ice cube tray. Don’t forget to scrap the remaining chocolate out of the mortar using a spatula.
  7. Place the ice cube tray in the fridge for around 15 minutes or until solid. When set unmould the chocolate from the ice cube tray and store in an airtight container for around 24 hours. This will give the flavours of the chocolate more time to mature and develop.


Tempering, steps 1-6.

  1. After around 24 hours your pre-tempered chocolate cubes are ready to be chopped or grated into smaller chunks.
  2. Melt the dark chocolate chunks using the hair dryer method in a glass mixing bowl until only ⅕ of the chunks remain solid.
  3. Turn off the hair dryer and continue to stir the molten chocolate until the remaining chunks have completely melted.
  4. When all the remaining lumps of chocolate have melted down, pour around ¾ of the chocolate onto a marble slab or cool metal worktop and begin to spread the chocolate back and forth until it reaches the consistency of margarine.
  5. Once the chocolate has thickened on your slab, return it to the reserved ¼ of molten chocolate and stir until the two have recombined.
  6. At this point your chocolate should be tempered and ready to pour into moulds, ready to set and enjoy.


In my next post we will be returning to the light side of the chocolate spectrum with my new recipe for a smooth and creamy white chocolate, “The light blend”.

So until next time, stay rebellious.



I am now never going to be able to let go of grumpy Kiwi Mick Rory, so have a stack of headcanons:

  • Mick Rory’s family is originally from South Dunedin - they’ve been Otago people since the first time his people laid feet on the earth, regardless of which way you look at it 
  • They were farmers first and factory workers next
  • Mick hates sheep with a passion because of the sheer volume of them he’s used to
  • Mick went to Kings back in the day, mostly to play Rugby
  • He has been known to break out the Kings Haka when tipsy
  • You have to get him really drunk before he’ll start singing in Maori, but it’s worth it when he does
  • Mick tried explaining whanau to Len back when they were teenagers, but it didn’t make sense to Len until the Rogues appeared. 
  • The Rogues are Mick’s whanau in the USA. He takes them to meet his actual whanau one day, and he’s still not entirely sure how he got them to leave.
  • Mick has no fewer than five tiki tattoos. Drunk Mick really likes tiki tattoos. 
  • Len and Mick’s wedding rings have a greenstone inset. 
  • Mick teaches Jax and Sara the rules to Rugby, and they watch it with him all the time - Jax has become particularly fixated. He loves it. 
  • Mick teaches Hartley about waiata 
  • Mick will fight people over the All Blacks. He has before, he will again. 
  • PAVLOVA. 
  • Mick gets nostalgic for L&P and Pineapple Lumps and Twisties and Jet Planes and Peanut Slabs and Chocolate Fish and Eskimo Marshmallows. There is a correlating black market trade in Kiwi snack foods that comes through Central. 
  • You can tell that Mick’s thinking about his and Lenny’s wedding when he starts humming Pokarekare Ana 

anonymous asked:

hey <3 so I don't often send asks but I've had a really shit couple of weeks. I have binge eating disorder and you don't see much support for it on this here website. I just need someone to tell me it'll be alright. The thing is, my binges are closer to 8000 calories than like 1200 or whatever is a binge to most people and i need help believing i'll be okay. i feel like death and i need support please oh god

Honey, I totally get you. I used to have binge eating disorder. About a year back I would’ve eaten like three breads a day, with stuff on it. I used to eat a shit load of food. There were times when I’d just stay at home and eat nonstop. I’d eat slabs of chocolate, like four at a time and giants bags of chips each day. It’s one of the reasons why I look the way I do. I binge ate to try and cope with my extreme depression a year ago. But, hey, look at me now. I’m not eating that much anymore. You just need to find something to replace it with. I used to eat because I coped with my sadness that way… I started self harming when I stopped because that was another way to deal with my shit. I’m definitely not telling you to self harm. I’m just saying, that maybe you’re binge eating to try and suppress something else. So, whatever is bothering you, try to talk about it. Or find a different coping mechanism. I’m in no way authorized to give advice on an ed. But that’s just what worked for me.

I’m sending you lots of love. Message me anytime. 

Lunch Break (GabrielxReader)

Request: More shy reader with confident Gabriel

Warnings: Slight Bullying, Fluff-ish

Hope This Is Alright

The warning bell rang as you sped up to make it to class on time. However, you didn’t notice the wet floor sign and ended up sprawled on the ground with your stuff tossed everywhere. The students who were still making their way to class, paused to watch you struggle as your face turned red. You noticed two girls taking pictures of you and tried to hide your face behind your heavy history book.

All the attention made you want to run and hide somewhere and never leave. But, that  thought went away as a strong blonde man grabbed your arm and helped you up. He had a sucker in his mouth and a janitor’s uniform on. His whiskey eyes glared at the two girl as you collected the rest of your things off the floor.

When the final bell rang, the hallway was clear except for you and the janitor. “Thanks.” You mumbled out, keeping your head low as you trudged to class. The man didn’t say anything as you left.

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AU: One cannot see the colour of their soulmates eyes until they see them

Ao3 Link: Here

Sam woke up every morning to a grey room. No matter how wide open he left the curtains the night before, he could ever embrace the colour of the morning. His brother told him it was stupid, but Sam didn’t care. He knew why he couldn’t see the light, or why he saw Dean drizzling the most unappetising grey liquid onto his pancakes on a Saturday morning, and he knew why he and Dean would sit in the Roadhouse every Friday night chucking back shot after shot of grey alcohol that stung his throat. It was because that was the colour of his soulmates eyes.

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anonymous asked:

what are your favourite kabby moments and why?

Thank you nonnie, well, I’ve been going through another aggressive Kabby cycle of late so you either have very good timing or very bad, I’m not entirely sure which. You also didn’t specify a number of scenes…Which may have been a very bad thing as well because I’m unlikely ever to shut up…But I think you all expect this of me now anyway so without further ado:

1)- 1x05 ‘Thank You’ or that moment where Marcus isn’t as much of a dick as we first thought (and also look at the way he looks at her)

This one is actually quite early on (shipping from the start people) but I think it’s really important for both Kabby and Marcus as well because it’s that sort of, it’s not that he doesn’t want her play with Raven to fail out of spite and he definitely doesn’t want to proceed with this culling; he does want her plan to work, he wants Earth to be survivable, he wants that option and he’s taken steps to ensure that, if by some miracle it does work, he’s got people to report to him the second she gets through so they can stop this.

And I think this is a really big moment for Marcus in season 1, for the audience as well because it’s hard to get out of the knowledge that you have. You know as an audience that the ground is survivable, you know that Raven made it, you know that Abby’s right and Marcus is wrong which makes what he’s doing seriously hard to swallow but from his point of view he doesn’t know that. Abby is very much best case hope and Marcus is very much worst case planning here; he’s not a lunatic on a power trip, he’s just trying to do the best that he can for his people.

And I think that very genuine little ‘thank you’ that she gives him (and the way that she looks at him, mustn’t forget that, never going to be over that) is her sort of realising that fact at the same point we do and looking at him a little bit differently and I think it’s just really nice to see that these two, who are so often at loggerheads, so often opposed and arguing and fighting because they have such different viewpoints and ideals on how to get things done, are literally standing side-by-side in this scene and  I think it just really reinforces that they do have this common ground; they both want the same thing. He’s not bad and she’s not good so to speak, they just have different ways of going about things, but they’re united by this common goal and that becomes a really strong tie for them in later seasons so I enjoy this foundation work.

2)- I don’t care if the world is literally crumbling around my ears I am going to crawl through this tiny cramped little tunnel and save your stupid self Take 1 Marcus edition 1x11

Also known as that one scene that catapulted me from hmm, I like this, to otp fuck me and send help.

There are many things that I enjoy in this world, I am a person with simple pleasures, tea, a good book, a big slab of chocolate, and the smile that lights up Marcus Kane’s face when he holds Abby Griffin in his arms in that one scene in 1x11 and realises that she’s not dead. I don’t know if it was scripted for him to look like he’d just seen the damn sun after ten years encased underground or if it was an acting choice by Ian (goddammit Ian) but whatever it was, it delighted the life out of me so here we are.  

The physical contact in that scene is also really interesting as well, I think pretty much from the moment that his torch lights upon her and he runs to her and turns her over to wake her up, there really isn’t a moment at all where he’s not touching her in some way, either cupping her cheeks in his hands or helping guiding her down towards him or just flat out snuggling (I love that, I really do, the world is falling apart around them but we must take time out for Abby recovery cuddles, it’s wonderful) and I just really love the way she just slumps down with her head on his chest and it’s just a real sense of safety that she gets from him, he’s found her, he’s there with her, everything’s going to be alright now and she knows that there with him and it just, yeah there’s a lot there, it’s a fairly small little beat but damn if it didn’t ruin my life and make me into what I am today.

3)- ‘There has to be another way’ Take 1 - 1x13 

There is /so much/ to unpack in this scene and so much that I love about it and you know, you’re never getting an abridged version of anything with me so on we go.

The possessive little arm seatbelt of hers just ruins me okay, it really ruins me, just, he hasn’t even managed to untangle himself or stand up yet but she already knows exactly what he’s thinking and she also already knows that it’s not something she’s just willing to sit back and meekly watch happen and so the arm comes out and he gets glowered at and yes Marcus but what exactly do you think that you’re doing here? Because it’s not happening.

And I think that one of the more interesting things about this is that she never actually takes her hand away? If you watch that scene, all the way through his line about someone having to stay behind and all through her next line she shoots at Sinclair, the arm stays very, very firmly in place, reaching across his body and trying to keep him there and stop him rising. The only time that she actually takes it away is when he makes her? It’s hard to see (dammit) but I think it’s pretty obvious that just before his ‘salvation comes at a price’ line you can see him curl his fingers around the hand that’s still outstretched to him and just sort of, it’s a very nice physical way of telling her to let go of this, she can’t win every fight, there isn’t always another way, sometimes someone has to sacrifice themselves/suffer so that everyone else can get what they need.

Then we come to that little line that ‘there has to be another way’ which is just, incredibly important in this scene and spoken by Abby. It’s been her mantra the whole season, wanting to find another way around the culling, she has half a hundred suggestions at one point, she’s desperate for them to give the 100 more time to make contact and stop them going through with this and it’s a sentiment that carries into the next season but most interestingly it’s Marcus who really carries it through. That little beat in 2x03 with the grounder ‘there’s got to be a better way’ definitely echoes her and he repeats those very words of hers in the season 2 finale (but I’ll sob more about this later I just want to draw attention to another point of this meta to come, namely parallels between these two)

But yes, the point there was that this has been Abby’s mantra all season; but a lot of the time it’s been directed /against/ him. He has been the one she has been saying find another way to, but now they’ve come to the point that he wants to sacrifice himself but she’s saying this for him now, to try and save him. And this time, he’s right, someone does have to stay behind, and he’s decided that it has to be him and just, there isn’t another line of dialogue exchanged between them in that scene after that and the silent communication that we get between the two of them is amazing.

Her desperate, pleading look towards him just before he stands up and his half-placating, half-insistent and impatient look back as she silently says don’t do this, don’t leave him, and him just, this is his choice, he has to do this and god her face when he stands up and makes it absolutely clear that he’s going through with it is soul destroying.

And then, to cap it all, we have the final nail in the coffin of every Kabby shipper barely keeping it together and the hand hoooolding which is just, okay who decided this was an okay thing to do to me I mean really. But I think there’s a lot of symbolism in that, I think it’s both, something of a resolution for their earlier arc, a certain coming together (made more poignant when they become the first two to step out onto the ground together and an idea of coming at this a little more united than they were before) but I think it’s also a lot about acceptance? She’s accepting his choice here, his decision, she doesn’t want him to do this, in fact she’s jus actively tried to prevent him from doing so, but he has to.

And there’s a certain feeling of their earlier arcs all wrapped up in this because he wants to make the sacrifice play, a clear echo to the culling, put the needs of the many before the needs of the few (in this case himself) and she wants to find another way, a way that they can all survive, a way that they can all get through this but someone has to stay behind. He listened to her, he waited to see if Sinclair could give them other options this time, but there weren’t any, so he went on ahead with this and I think that hand holding is a nicely little way of binding up their arc and yes, they have their differences, but I think there is that sense that they can come together, they can work together, they can present a united front, and ironic as it is when he’s about to stay behind, it’s the idea that they can get through this together, with a little bit of both of their mentalities and just, I don’t know, I’ve gone on too long about this already.

(much) more under the cut! 

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S’mores

Written for the incredible @magicaldestiny who supported me through the writer’s block and the struggle. Thank you <3.

Enjoy!


“You’re ruining it.”

“I’m not ruining it! Just watch.”

“It’s going to burn.”

“It won’t burn. I know what I’m doing.”

“The last one burnt.”

Their evening had turned from dinner to drinking, from drinking to conversation, and from conversation to…this. Tipsy attempts at marshmallow roasting by use of their stove. And Hannibal was, despite his criticisms, enjoying himself immensely.

“This can’t be the traditional method.”

“Well, usually there’s a fire, and usually we’re outside…But this will work fine.”

Will twirls the marshmallow above the small fire, the yellow flames ribboning up from the stove, grazing its surface. Drunk, he finds it ridiculous, absolutely absurd, that Hannibal has never once eaten a s’more in his life. As he twists the skewer between his fingers,  rotating to expose the other side, he wonders momentarily if he’ll find as ridiculous sober…

“You’ve burned it again.”

“Dammit!”

Hannibal’s laugh fills the room, golden and bright. Just like the glow rising in Will’s cheeks as he smiles. He reloads the end of his skewer, unsteady fingers securing the marshmallow in place before placing it above the fire yet again, this time with renewed determination.

They had spoken of the change of season, and while the fireplace crackled in the background and the whiskey warmed in their bellies, what they spoke of shifted from spring, to autumn, to winter, and eventually to one of the more happy memories from Will’s childhood; camping in old, ruddy tents with his father and eating s’mores for dinner in the crisp night air.

It didn’t matter to him then if the marshmallow burnt or not.

The salvageable things from his childhood, the softer things that could be stood to look at, had been retrieved and fossilized, and possibly, if Will was honest, glossed a bit and made to shine. There was plenty he carried on his back, but these he cradled in his arms, brought to life around him.

The smell of pine and motor oil. Cheap whiskey. Starlight, and the open window through which the cold breeze rustles the curtains early in the morning. The simplistic refuge of handiwork, of tangible problems with tangible solutions. His aptitude for both solitude and silence, the dread and calm of it, that for so long he told himself was an appreciation.

Home cooked meals, woolen blankets, and canine companions. The sunlight dancing on the windowsill just above his bed.

It didn’t matter to him then if the marshmallow burnt or not.

But it matters to him now.

Will pulls away from the flames, successful. He slides the marshmallow on top of the slab of chocolate, between the blocks of graham cracker, and then squashes it together, its white innards spilling out the sides.

S’mores, ruddy old tents, and the crisp night air.

He turns around in offering, and Hannibal’s cocked eyebrow matches his skeptical grin.

“Eat,” Will commands.

“Is there a dignified way to go about this?”

Will shakes his head. “But that’s the fun of it. Try it.”

Hannibal meets his gaze, red cheeked and smiling, and takes the plate from Will.

Pine and motor oil and cheap whiskey.

Hannibal inspects it like a fussy cat who has been offered an inadequate meal. And Will watches impatiently, amused.

“Just try it!” he says with a laugh. Hannibal picks up his concoction using the least amount of fingers possible, forcing a sigh from Will, and finally he takes a bite.

Home cooked meals, woolen blankets, and canine companions.

Melted chocolate and bits of marshmallow cling to the corner of Hannibal’s mouth as he pulls away, and as he goes to wipe it away Will kisses him.

The sunlight glittering on the windowsill just above his bed.

The part of his lips while he sleeps. The sleepy, heavy sigh just before he wakes.

Long walks and dinners.

The weight of his arm slung over him. The warmth of him pressed against Will every night.

Every morning.

The ground gives way beneath him and the room disappears. The atmosphere bends only for them. Only for the precious things Will cradles in his arms. Protected. Safe.

Hannibal.

How to Avenge 101 [Part 13]

[Master list]  [Part 12] … [Part 14]

A/N: I know some of you said you wanted longer chapters (although I promise they won’t be this long again) I just had trouble getting the story to flow if I stopped it in the middle of this ‘part’ – so Part 13 is pretty much 2 chapters at once, because I didn’t want to stop writing it. Plus I know I said this would be up yesterday – so take this as my apology for being late! I hope you enjoy it <3

Word Count: 4,281

Warnings: Violence, injuries (including blood), mild language.

You’d closed your eyes, bending your head into the crook of your arm as you fell. The next thing you felt was your shoulder and hip smacking against an exceptionally hard surface, something also stinging your knee. The material of your outfit flexed accordingly, trying to dissipate the impact, but it was to no avail. You felt dust in your mouth, and you choked almost instantly, trying to expel the dry powder.

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