#don’t even get me started on peeling the skin off of frozen blueberries

[bigender-cowboy]

Guys help what do I do if I have no strawberries please I can’t drive and I need them please

[wiypt-writes]

Murder, He Wrote

Part 4 Co-Written with @southerngracela​

Summary: Ransom shows you a softer side, but when the table flips he leaves you with no doubt that he’s still just as dangerous as he has always been…

Warnings: Bad language words. MATURE (NSFW 18+) NON-CON situation, kidnap, violence. DO NOT READ IF ANY OF THOSE TRIGGER… READER DISCRETION IS ADVISED. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!!!!

Pairing: DARK! Ransom Drysdale x Reader

A/N:  So this is Part 4 to our submission for @jtargaryen18​ ‘s Haunted House 2020  Challenge. My writing partner @southerngracela​ is currently on an indefinite hiatus from Tumblr, and I’ve sadly no idea when she will be back. However, this chapter was pretty much finished before she took her break and the rest of the series is also planned out to finish, so as per her blessing before she took time out, I’m intending on finishing what we started.

READ THE WARNINGS!!!! This is a DARK Series… don’t @ us if you can’t follow simple instructions and end up with butt-hurt. And if you’re under 18…get off my blog.

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and by writing it does NOT mean I agree with or condone the acts contained within. This fiction is classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar reader and any other OCs that may or may not be mentioned. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Murder, He Wrote Masterlist // Main Masterlist.

Part 3

True to his word, Ransom had let you spend the day with him after Blanc's visit. It was a day interestingly enough your mind wandered back to, if not for the change in scenery, but for the change in his demeanour. A couple of weeks had since passed from then, but the memory was burned in your brain. And since, you'd spent far more than just a day above the confines of your room. Almost every morning since he’d ‘allowed’ you to make breakfast and most mornings, unless he was heading out to wherever he went, he then let you stay upstairs with him whilst he plugged away at the book he was writing. That in and of itself had come as a shock to you, to learn he was an aspiring author for sure, but you had simply nodded and encouraged him when he had told you. And you had quickly realised that when he was busy writing, you could get busy reading one of the many books or writing in your journal while sat in the large study and he left you pretty much alone.

Which is where you were currently sat now, curled up on the leather sofa as he sat at his desk, tapping away at his laptop, your journal open in your lap and a leather bound copy of ‘Great Expectations’ lay next to you, the page marked waiting for you to pick up from where you had left off the previous evening. As you thumbed the pages of your journal to find the next blank page, you had to smile at the little doodle of a Christmas tree that caught your eye in the top right hand corner of a page you’d written a few days back, the day you’d convinced Ransom that he should at least get one Christmas Tree. He’d obliged, had one; only the one, delivered and permitted you to decorate it how you’d wanted to and even managed a little smile when you stepped back and proudly showed the finished product to him. Then, of course, quid-pro-quo, he had had expected something in return which you’d given, because let’s face it, he’d have taken it anyway.

You’d seen a softer side to him that day, and not for the first time either. Granted, non-asshole Ransom wasn’t an everyday feature by any stretch of the imagination, but you’d seen it twice now. You paused, and then thumbed back a few pages to the day you were now remembering, the day you’d first been confronted with a very different Ransom to the one you were used to dealing with. One that came out of nowhere.

It was a wet day, an early winter storm passing through New England. You were sure it could have snowed but instead, it was just wet and cold. He'd come down with breakfast, instead of inviting you up. He'd brought you warm oatmeal with cream and cinnamon, a small bowl of blueberries on the side and a pinch dish of raisins, having forgotten how you took your oatmeal. A cup of coffee, steaming on the tray. He'd set up your breakfast on the table and sat across from you, not eating. He hadn't even brought coffee for himself. 

You'd assessed his mood as morose, distant even. You didn't press, but rather waited for him to out himself and his particular mood. You'd come to recognize when he was thinking and this morning, he was all thought and no presence. 

"I'll be gone most of the day," he finally came clean, just as you'd finished your oatmeal. 

"Okay," you replied. He hadn't ever really announced his plans to you before. He'd just come and go at all times as he'd liked, never leaving you home alone without the doors locked. This willingness to let you in on his plans for the day fielded a small red flag in your mind and if you were honest with yourself, you felt like this was a test. He said nothing else, just picked up your breakfast dishes and left. 

In the time he was gone, you'd managed to shower, nap, write and read. You were growing hungry for dinner, having had to skip lunch in his absence. Then you heard it, the tell-tale signs of his return. The clicks of doors and sounds of boots on the floor above you. The jingle of keys, and a few failed attempts at unlocking your door. A 'fuck' and a 'God damn it' before the door opened and there he stood. Soaked to the bone, dressed in all black from his coat to his toes. Was that ice on the tips of his hair? Was he drunk or just having a moment? Fingers frozen from the cold. 

'Jesus Christ, you're soaked.'  You said as you took him in. His lips looked a little discolored, his skin more alabaster than ivory. Throwing caution to the wind, you grabbed your throw from the chair as you passed it by. 'Get that coat off,' you pulled at its thick woolen collar. The heavy fabric peeled away from his broad shoulders and you let it fall to the floor. You heaved the throw over him and pulled it closed around his thick chest. 'You're not getting sick and leaving me here to rot.'

You moved to give him some space and guide himself further into the room, but ice cold fingers wrapped around your wrist and you stopped dead in your tracks. Your eyes moved upwards from where his hand swallowed you're wrist, along the wet fabric of his black sweater, water droplet covered neck, to eyes that were lost and distant, just as they were that morning, but much worse. 

You were nearly as frozen as his fingers were, not sure what to say or do. Worried about consequence. So you just stared back. 

'Thank you', it was barely audible as the words poured from his lips. 

'Of course.' You weren't sure what he was thankful for but you replied anyway. Cautiously, you continued, 'Will you come sit down? Do you want something warm to drink?' You wanted to ask where he'd been but that was a slippery slope. 

'Not here,' he replied. 

'Upstairs then, in the lounge,' you suggested. He nodded and turned on his heel, a glance over his shoulder to see if you were coming. You followed, pulling your cardigan around you tightly as the chill from the basement filtered through you, or was it coming away from him, you weren't sure. 

You'd thought the lounge was where you were headed but instead, he'd headed for the kitchen, taking a seat at the table there. When he didn't provide instruction or conversation, you inhaled deeply and thought of something to warm you both from the inside-out. You felt his eyes on you as you gathered the ingredients you needed, cocoa, chocolate chips, milk. The cinnamon sticks from the cupboard. You were careful not to make too much of a clatter as you pulled the sauce pan from under the counter. 

In minutes, fresh hot chocolate was in two steaming mugs with whipped cream and freshly grated cinnamon. You handed him a mug and then sat across from him, your mug between your fingers. You watched as he sipped from his mug, blowing a little on the liquid before his lips touched it. His eyes closed as if he was stuck in a memory, his expression softening. 

His eyes opened and he sighed, 'I can't remember the last time I had something like this. I was just a kid, my nana was still alive. It amazes me how they turned out from the two of them.'

'Money changes people,' you commented. You assumed 'they' meant his family, or at least more specifically, his mother and her two brothers, one of which had been gone for years. 

He scoffed, 'fuck my family.'

Throwing caution to the wind, you asked, 'is that where you were?' You couldn't have guessed, given he was usually extremely angry and frustrated when he'd spent time with anyone in the Thrombey-Drysdale family tree. 

He frowned and nodded. 

'What happened?' You couldn't resist.

'Harlan's memorial.'

'Oh' . You said unable to think of anything else to respond with, because really what else could you say. He’d attended a memorial for the grandfather that would still be alive had it not been for him. 

'Oh, indeed,' he mused, long fingers flexing around the mug. 'Surely, you’ve figured out I wasn’t particularly welcome.' 

You couldn't say more, he wasn't wrong. You bit the inside of your lip and swallowed hard. He needed comfort. But would you give it to him? Was he deserving of that? Hell no, but your heart ached for him a little. It couldn't have been easy. But maybe this was his punishment for avoiding the ultimate consequence.

'Go on, say it.'

'Say what?' 

'That I deserve it.' He looked at you, 'I know that’s what you’re thinking.' He leaned back, 'maybe you’re right.' 

Well, that threw you. 'I don't know what I'm thinking, to be honest.' You leaned forward, intending to slip the mug from his hands and take them in yours, but you caught yourself and stopped. That was a step that you weren’t quite ready for, or willing as might be more accurate, to take. 'But, I can tell you're hurting and despite what happened, how it happened, you deserve to say goodbye without the rage and selfishness that got you here.'

'Well,' he leaned back and took another sip from his mug, 'that’s certainly not what they thought. Meg assured me I'm still the stuck up prick without my trust fund.'

A small smirk played over your lips, barely noticeable, 'fuck your family.' 

'Careful, Sweetheart,' he smirked, but there was no threat in his words, not this time. He was genuinely amused.

You managed a slight shrug, 'If there’s one thing I learned from writing about you and your ridiculously entitled family tree, it's that each and every one of you is all about everyone for themselves.' You took a deep breath, waiting for the repercussions to fall. 'What happened, happened. Now, this is what you have, so own it.' 

You flinched a little as his hand reached to scrub at his clean shaven chin, finger tracing his bottom lip as he studied you for a second before he took a deep breath and reached back for his mug. 'I think you need to make this for me more often.' He stated simply, and just like that, the deep foray into his emotions and psyche was over, and the barriers were closed once more.  

'Sure.' You nodded. 'Whatever you want.' 

At that he gave a little scoff. 'Sure, whatever I want.' 

Silence filled the room again, your mind not sure what to make of that last comment, and his was clearly working overtime, you could tell by the way his eyes were still glazed as he simply stared down at the mug in his hand. The rest of the time you sat by the table was quiet, and you were surprised to find yourself a little disappointed. This was the first real meaningful conversation you’d had with him since arriving here. Sure you’d talked, but never once had you got any insight into what exactly made him tick. You’d learned more in the last ten minutes or so than you had in the entire six weeks you’d been his captive.

His captive. 

The words echoed in your mind and you swallowed as you remembered exactly what it was you were doing here. This wasn’t by choice, this man wasn’t your friend or your lover, he was your captor, keeping you for his own entertainment, which he was no doubt going to be seeking from you again tonight.

'I think I need a shower,' he leaned forward, disturbing your thoughts.

'Okay,' You replied. 'I'll, uh, well you know where to find me when you're ready for me. Anything in particular you'd like me to wear tonight?' 

'No, not tonight,' he answered with assurance, his voice carrying a low yet soft tone. 'You can go read or whatever it is you do when I'm gone.' You blinked, temporarily dumfounded and he looked at you, snorting a little. 'What? You want me to come and have my way with you?' 

'Is that a trick question?' You blurted out before you could stop yourself, before you swallowed and waited for the admonishing, but it never came. Instead he chuckled and shook his head.  

'Didn’t think so.' With that he rose from his chair, reaching for your empty mug as he passed. His fingers lightly brushed yours and you were jolted by the sudden sparks that flew up your arm and you took a little breath as he passed, depositing your mugs in the sink. Without another word he breezed from the kitchen for the first time, leaving you alone in the room.

It left you perplexed. Completely and utterly perplexed. He never left you alone, even the weeks on your cycle he’d found other ways for you to satisfy him, with your mouth or your hand for instance, but tonight…

Taking a deep breath, you headed back to your room. You didn’t even look at the main door to the house, there was no point. It was always locked and you knew what the consequences would be if you left. Besides, you wouldn’t get far. Not to mention you had no idea where you actually where and the thought of being outside alone in the dark, frankly scared you to death. No, you were better here. At least you knew it was warm, and familiar.

You headed down the stairs and got ready for bed. You settled in with your book, and after a while your ears pricked up as you heard footsteps outside your room. You swallowed, clearly he had changed his mind. But, as you set your book aside, it wasn’t the sound of the door opening followed by his feet padding down the stairs that you heard, it was the lock clicking as he shut you in for the night.

The sound of the doorbell jerked you away from your memory. Ransom frowned and looked up from the screen of his laptop before his eyes caught yours and he gave a little smirk.

“Expecting someone?”

You rolled your eyes at his asshole joke and he chuckled to himself, grabbing his phone. As he saw who it was at the door his good humour slipped from his face and without another word he rose from his chair. He paused in the doorway and turned to you. “No funny business, remember…” 

 “Yes, I know.” You replied quietly. “You know where my family are.”

He hesitated, almost as if he was about to say something else, but he didn’t. Instead he turned and left the room to answer the door. 

The study wasn't far from the lounge merely the next room down, and the lounge was closest to the door so you tuned your focus to the voice speaking with Ransom. You recognized it and suddenly found yourself adjusting your tee and duster, making sure the cuffs on your jeans were even. You could hear the distress in his tone, the guest was unwanted and you hadn't realized you were now in the hall beside him. You noticed he took a step back towards you, as if he knew you were there. 

Linda Thrombey's eyes raked over you, in shock and disbelief. “What the hell is she doing here?” 

As she glared, you shifted uncomfortably, your hands pulling on the sleeves of the duster sweater you wore as you swallowed.

“She’s with me.” Ransom replied, his tone even.

“With you as in 'with you'?” Linda turned her eyes back to him, distaste evident on her face.

“Is that a problem, Mother, because you know where the door is.”

It was a problem, you could see it in her face as she once more looked at you, but instead of sniping back she simply took a deep breath and cleared her throat.

"No, I just wasn't aware you'd have company." Her eyes flicked back to Ransom who simply shrugged.

"Since when did you know anything about what I do on a daily basis, Mother?"

"Don't start, Ransom. I'm not in the mood and I didn't come here for a fight."

 "Then pray do tell, to what do I owe this pleasure?"

"Can you stop being such a sarcastic little shit for once in your life?" she snapped.

You stilled a little, your eyes flicking to Ransom and you were surprised to find that instead of the usual anger you expected, his face remained passive on the whole, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes, something that, well had it been anyone else you'd have sworn was concern. But Hugh Ransom Drysdale wasn't concerned about anyone but himself...

“What’s happened?” he asked, his voice still gruff but there was a softer note to his voice. Linda took a deep breath and she shook her head.

"I felt a call to tell you wasn't appropriate and this needed to be handled in person." She fixed him with a look. “It’s your Greatnanna Wanetta. She died last night, Ransom.”

You froze, hearing the news leave his mother's mouth and you suddenly felt sorry for him. Ransom, stood there stoic, his eyes fixated on his mother.

“Was it peaceful?” he eventually asked, his voice measured.

“In her sleep.” Linda replied, her tone soft.

Ransom stayed silent for a moment, his chest rising and falling slowly as he took deep breaths. His expression was unreadable as he simply looked at his Mother, before he raised his eyebrows inhaling slowly.

“Was there anything else?” He exhaled, and Linda simply shook her head at him, a huff of annoyed laughter escaping her.

“That’s all you have to say?” She asked, incredulously, as Ransom shrugged with a petulantly nonchalant air, and you saw Linda’s face redden as she exploded "Oh for God's sakes, Ransom, you really are such a selfish little bastard, aren't you?”

“What do you want me to say?” He asked, his tone measured. “You said it was peaceful and she didn’t suffer.”

“No, I said she went in her sleep.” Linda corrected him. “I imagine she did suffer, how could she not after everything that happened, huh? Hell, she probably died of a broken heart”.

At that you saw Ransom’ nostril’s flare as his eyes burned into Linda’s face, a flush of red rising up his neck.

"Get out," he deadpanned. When Linda made no attempt to move, Ransom stepped forward yanked open the front door of the house, gesturing with his arm. “I’m not gonna ask again. Go.”

"Ransom..." Linda tried to strong arm her way to stay.

"Are you deaf or just fucking stupid?" Ransom replied, his voice didn't even raise in volume but something about it made you shiver. He was positively frightening when he was in this frame of mind.

You watched as Linda gave him a final glare and stepped outside without so much as a glance back, the slam of the door behind her making you jump.

Ransom saw his mother out but didn't return to the study, in fact he ignored Y/N's presence in the hall entirely. Instead, he sulkingly moved towards the wet bar in the lounge. He didn't even bother with the glass, he picked up the first bottle he could wrap his fingers around and white knuckled the neck, spinning the cap off, it clinking to the floor. He downed a long pull, the amber liquid burning sinfully as it coated his throat, his eyes stinging but not from the booze. 

“Are you okay?” Y/N’s soft voice startled him as he hadn’t heard her enter the lounge. Taking a deep breath, he wiped his hand over his face, and turned to look at her, his jaw clenching.

“Did I say you could leave the study? Did I say you could join the conversation with Linda?” His voice was steely, flat, but he knew full well that she understood that to mean he was pissed and she visibly recoiled in the doorway, her eyes widening. When she didn’t answer immediately he slammed the bottle he was holding down on the bar top, and when he spoke again his voice was louder as he demanded an answer. “Did I?”

“No.” She answered with a quiver, “But I…”

“But I…” he mocked, sneering before he scoffed. “You know considering how smart you’re supposed to be, at times you’re really fucking stupid.”

Y/N blinked a little, and opened her mouth to talk but she fumbled over her words as she frantically began to apologise, which simply served to irritate him even more. With a frustrated growl he reached out and grabbed her chin, forcing her head up to look at his.

"You do as I say, when I say it. That rule has NEVER changed," his voice was filled with venom. “I didn’t ask for your sympathy. And I certainly don’t need your pity.”

“That’s not...” she whimpered slightly, and the grip he had on her face tightened causing her to cry out. “Hugh, please!”

And there it was, that fucking name.

You immediately realised your mistake as his face burned red and his lips curled up into an ugly sneer.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t…you were hurting me and…”

“You think I give a shit?” He spat, and the hand suddenly released your face only to wrap painfully in your hair. Without so much as another word he began pulling you from the room, ignoring your shouts of pain and protest as you wrapped both your hands around his wrists, desperately trying to get him to release you. But it was no good, the more you struggled, the tighter his grip became.

Before you knew what had happened he’d dragged you to the door that led to your room and down the stairs, your feet slipping slightly, causing you to stumble, harshly banging your knee on the bottom few steps where he finally released you, shoving you harshly. Your balance already gone, you stumbled and collided harshly with the side of the vanity table, the pain in your cheekbone causing you to yell out once more as the stars exploded in front of your eyes.

It took you a moment to shake off the daze, and when you finally did you looked up to see his retreating back heading up the stairs, slamming the door behind him. With a gasp you slumped down, your back against the wood of the dressing unit, your hand reaching up to your tender face. From somewhere upstairs in the house you heard another door slam, then a moment or so later there was a roar of an engine, which was followed by nothing but eerie silence.

Hugging your knees to your chest you let out a sob as the tears streaming as uncontrollably down your face.

***** All he could see was rage. Red, hot, firey rage. He slammed the basement door and didn't miss the bar cart on his way out, a full bottle of top shelf scotch in his hand, coat and keys in the other. He drove for miles, no destination in his conscious mind but a rather interesting one in his subconscious.

Headstones came into view until his SUV stopped at the end of the grassy knoll where the mausoleum stood surrounded by trees. He climbed out of the car, bottle clutched in his hand and shut the door behind him, simply leaning against the dark metal of his vehicle. For a long while, he didn't move, he simply stared at the entry, gulping large pulls of the scotch as he stared. His thoughts raced and raced, almost making him dizzy. It was that or the fast burn of the booze.

It felt like a flash of his life replaying in his mind. His great-nana, his grandparents, his parents, a life of entitlement growing up, parties, recreational drugs, booze, women, his fight with Harlan, his sudden plot to commit murder and then the crime, his arrest, and then the visions came to a halt with a mind bending pain and at the end of that pain was Y/N.

Her face, her scent, her voice. The way she felt beneath him, around him…those breathy, little moans, sighs. They’d connected recently, Ransom was sure of it, ever since he’d invited her upstairs and let her do something as mundane as cook. They talked more, engaged more, he no longer fucked her and left, instead he’d dress and hang around for a while, and he liked it. But then, today, after his Mother’s visit, those eyes which had mesmerised him from the moment he’d met her had once more reflected fear and confusion.

And Ransom didn’t like it.

Where that fear had, at one point, given him a buzz, now it simply served to remind him exactly how things had been when he had first taken her, and he didn’t like that one bit. He’d grown to crave the other things, like the way she would touch his arm or squeeze his hand. The way she smiled and spoke. The way she made him feel human, not some ghastly, beastly monster capable of killing someone. But he hurt her, more times than he wanted to admit. He hurt her and did things to her, he was vile and despicable. He WAS those things everyone said. 

He was a fucking monster.

He felt the upheaval of emotions begin to collapse around him and he fell to his knees. The sting started and he couldn't stop it. An outpouring of emotions, years, decades even of built up anger, resentment, unhappiness, disgust, fear, pain all erupted in a strangled cry as his chest heaved and his heart raced. Salty steaks of tears wet his cheeks.

And all Ransom Drysdale felt in that moment in time was utter defeat.

His Greatnanna, the only other member of his family who truly ever cared about him, that remained on his side or remotely understood him other than Harlan was now gone and the realization of loneliness hit him like a ton of bricks. His body shook, his chest ached, his mind grew numb and all he could do was cry. 

What the fuck had he become, WHO had he become? What did he do? Why did he do it? This was all his fault, Harlan didn't deserve to be cold in the ground. He did this, all of this. Again, but why?

He had absolutely no answer other than because he could. 

It grew cold, dark, and late. The scotch was gone, his eyes burned and he couldn't breathe through his nose. At this point he didn't care if he made it back in one piece. He was a piece of shit and deserved everything that came to him by way of a tragedy. He climbed into his SUV and tried to collect enough sobriety to drive towards home. Towards her.

******

You had no idea how long you sat on the floor, but by the time you finished crying and had mustered enough about you to move; you were cold, stiff and aching from sitting in the same position for so long. Your face hurt from the blow you’d taken against the dresser, your knee hurt from where you’d banged it but all that paled into insignificance to the pain that was going on inside your chest.

You didn’t understand why Ransom had flipped like he had. For a few weeks now, things had been okay between you, good even. He’d been reasonably amenable to most of your requests and dare you say it, almost happier in himself. But all this served to remind you what lay underneath that façade. A dangerous narcissist with the ability to swap his face and mood at the click of a finger.

Or, in this case, a visit from his mother.

You wiped at your face, hissing as your fingers brushed your tender cheekbone and with a slight whimper of pain you pushed yourself up off the floor and stumbled over to your bed where you lay down and curled up, hugging your pillow to your chest.

You must have dozed off, because the next thing you recall it was dark and you were still cold. Whilst the basement was equipped with heaters, you couldn’t shake the chill from your bones so you decided that your best option to warm up, and ease your aches and pains was a nice, hot bath. Stretching out slightly, you gave yourself a moment before you pushed yourself up, flicking on the lamp on the nightstand before you got up and headed into the bathroom, flicking on the light. 

You paused at the basin unit, glancing at your reflection and you swallowed at the sight of the bruise that was already forming around your right eye and cheek socket. Swallowing the emotion you felt at seeing your face marked once more in such a way, you turned your attention to the bath and the suddenly remembered that the other night Ransom had presented you with a bag from a Boutique you liked that sold home-made soaps and bath bombs, clearly having been in one of his good moods that day. You had yet to unpack it all and put it in the bathroom, so, deciding that you were going to use one tonight, you turned to head back and grab the bag, but as you emerged into the main part of your room, you were stopped short as a thick chest, covered in a ribbed white tee, a hint of a cardigan peeking out as broad shoulders kept warm by a camel coloured coat blocked your path.

You gasped and felt your belly drop out. Your body immediately began quaking in fear as he stood so close to you. You cowered away, taking a half step back but it wasn't enough to put space between you as his hand gently grabbed your upper arm and pulled you into his chest, a shriek emitting from your voice. 

"Don't," his voice cracked. "Don't scream, I'm not gonna..." his words trailed off and he just shook his head. 

He held you against him. You were sure he could feel you trembling as his large hands pressed against your back. You inhaled a deep, shaky breath through your nose and was met with his scent. He smelled so good, like an expensive aftershave with hints of amber and sandalwood, cedar and vanilla but there was an underlying, distinct aroma of alcohol, scotch you suspected, unless you were mistaken.  

You felt his face press into your hair as he took a large, shaky deep breath, as if he was inhaling your scent, which he exhaled before he pulled away, his hands cupping your face. He tilted your face slightly so he could examine your left cheek and you saw him swallow as he took in your bruising. Something stirred behind his eyes, a sad melancholy that you’d seen only once before crossed his arrogantly handsome features, and his head dropped slowly to yours. He held your jaw in his big hands, his lips on yours. You didn’t fight, fighting was futile, but as the kiss continued it soon became clear that this wasn’t like any of the times he had kissed you in the past. No, this one was soft, like a need to just feel you pressed against him. His plump lips pulling yours in and holding you there and you realised, from the lingering taste of something sweet yet ever so slightly tinged with sour, that your suspicions were correct.

Despite your earlier fear, you willed yourself to relax into the relative comfort. It was like he was back to how he had been before his mother had visited and whilst he was in that frame of mine, you knew you were safe, so keeping him there was in your best interests. Your fingers moved from your sides to his chest, the ribbed tee rough against your skin. You continued your movements as his mouth pulled you in just a little more until he traced his tongue over your bottom lip. Your fingers moved out to and up the lapels of his coat, the soft texture like a cottony suede under your fingertips, before settling on the back of his neck, his smooth skin and hairline a definitive juxtaposition to feel. He didn't balk or pull away as he had done previously when you’d tried to show him affection, and you continued to respond to his kiss, your touch seeming to be a comfort for him and in the back of your mind you wondered what had changed to make him act this way. He broke away and rubbed his nose along yours, almost as if he were touching a butterfly, soft and unsure. 

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry..." He continued to whisper, over and over. A soft, barely there kiss to your bruises and broken skin and more words, "Let me take care of you."

You were scared to admit that this felt good, the way he was being gentle, apologetic even. Pain radiated from his body once again, like it had just a few weeks ago, his eyes telling you everything he was feeling. The outpouring of emotions there were hard to ignore. You weren't sure if forgiveness was in your repertoire, but compartmentalization was. You looked back at him, and with a slow blink, almost hypnotized, you nod in reply to his request. 

Long fingers reached out and tucked a tendril of hair behind your ear, the other hand simply cradling your jaw. You swallowed hard as he bent down and placed his lips on your neck. Your body shivered at the feel of his mouth warm against your skin. His breath hot on your ear, “do you trust me?”

"I don't know," your voice was breathy as you replied. 

“Let me fix this," his voice wavered. It was a question, not a demand. He nipped at your skin and you shivered again from a combination of desire and disgust at the way this asshole could make you feel, how traitorous your damned body was. 

Ransom felt her breath hitch against his touch. She wasn't fighting him, she wasn't combative, she was...receptive. The thought nearly made him crow for, in that moment, he could feel her trust in him coming in, even if she couldn't verbalize it. He was debating on his lips devouring hers but he was... oh God, he was actually afraid of losing her in the moment. Of her closing herself off. No, he thought, it's best to wait. Ignoring the throw blanket on the floor and the mugs of cocoa on the table, Ransom held her face in her hands. "Do you trust me?" He asked again. She swallowed hard and blinked again, slowly. It was as fair if a reply as he'd get. He could see the war in her eyes, her mind battling with her feelings, her heart. "Stay here."

He left her standing there while he started the hot water. He could feel her eyes on him, watching his every move. He felt different, better even, from the moment he sought her attention when he'd come home. He started the tub faucet and as he brushed past her again, he shucked his coat, tossing it on her bed. He took a small bag he'd brought her earlier in the week and carried it with him. He emptied the contents of a small vile like bottle and watched a moment as bubbles began to firm in the hot but tolerable water. With the bath filling, he sighed to himself and turned to face her.

He peeled his own dusty blue cardigan over his shoulders and let it set over the basin unit. He pushed the sleeves of his white thermal up his forearms and held his hand out to her. She hesitated but slowly slipped her hand in his. He pulled her close and his hands gathered the lapels of her cardigan and peeled it away from her. Underneath her cardigan, Y/N sported a firm fitting white tee and jeans that looked well fitted for her hips and ass, toned legs, bare feet curling into the tiled floor. Ransom salivated as her nipples hardened through the material. He realized she had no bra on under her tee and his hand gently slipped under her rib cage, his thumb padding over her pert nipple. He lifted the thin white tee away from her body and tossed it to the floor. He was half hard just at the thought of her naked under her clothes and now he was solid. Discomfort growing by the second. 

A hooked knuckle traced down her sternum, between her breasts and along the center of her taught stomach. He watched as goose flesh covered her exposed skin. As his knuckle reached the waistline of her jeans, he took to his knees, pressing soft, open mouthed kisses to her belly, just above her flies. With just his fingers, he undid the button, unzipped the zipper and the peeled the material away from her legs, all the while deep blue eyes peered up at her. He wasn't disappointed to find she'd still worn panties under the rough material, in fact he was delighted. His eyes roved down to her black, lace panties and he reached out, fingers gently tracing long the detailed waistband. Those came down next and as she stepped out of the material, Ransom's hands traced patterns up her leg, faint kisses to her thigh, her hip, her belly. He stood and admired Y/N, completely bare, with less than a foot of space between them.

Ransom hummed, his right hand reaching out, pads of his fingers again trailing a path down the valley of her heaving breasts to her navel. He paused as her breathing hitched and with a smirk his hand dropped lower still, over the faint tuft of hair he insisted she kept groomed, his fingers slipping into her folds. She gave a soft gasp, eyes widening as he continued to tease her, her hands reaching to up to grasp at his biceps as he played with her. She was wet, so wet from just this little bit of play and with a sharp flick of his wrist, he pushed two fingers inside of her. 

He leaned forward, mouth brushing the shell of her ear, “Just say the words and I’ll make you feel so damned good, Sweetheart, like you’ve never felt before.” Ransom pulled away, removing his fingers from where they’d been, his hand curling on her hip, sticky with her essence. He backed her toward the tub's edge, his forehead pressed into hers. All motion stopped the second the back of her legs touched the tub. "Get in," he whispered. 

You sunk down into the water, the aromatic smell of calming lavender swallowing your senses. Bubbles covered your body, to the point they tickled your collar bone. You eyed him kneeling as he reached over you, grabbing the natural sea sponge loofah and dipping it into the water before he squeezed it over your skin, gently scrubbing. Your face once more met his and you carefully watched him as he exhibited a patience you had never seen from him before. Those blue orbs bore into you, but still he made no move to take you.

And it was unnerving.

But then, as you stared into those deep, icy blue pools something suddenly clicked in your mind. He wanted you to want him. That was what this was about. He’d spent his entire life with people who regarded him as unworthy of love or any kindness and he was seeking validation. Whilst you could see he was genuinely hurting, you also still knew this man was violent, angry, had taken you without your permission, taken what he wanted from you and when. You knew he would take what he wanted tonight too, regardless of what your answer was, the moment for you to back out had been and gone.

But something felt so good about his touch that you were shivering in anticipation of more rather than in fear and the feeling of enjoyment on your mind started to overpower the feeling of disgust in your belly as your core tightened with each breath you felt against your skin. You blinked, your head a whirl, as you were shamefully turned on despite the depraved nature of this entire situation. You broke from your thoughtful trance as a hand cupped your face, a thumb pad tilting you chin upward just a pinch to look at him,

"What?" You whispered. 

"Let me in?" He asked, his tone a bit contrite and hopeful. 

When she nodded in a slow reply, Ransom felt his stomach drop out from under him. Butterflies grew to take flight like an albatross deep in his gut. He dropped the sponge in the water and stood tall, towering over the tub. He reached behind his neck, between his shoulder blades and pulled the thermal over his head, his hair catching slightly on the fabric. He ran a hand through it to straighten it back up and tossed the garment to the floor. He watched as her eyes grew noticeably wide as they roamed over his taught, well-formed abs, his bare chest. He flexed a little, his muscles twitching as he focused on the buckle and flies of his pants. He'd kicked his boots off as he'd undone his belt, the clank an ignored sound as all he could do was watch her and she him. Ransom allowed the material to fall between them, his pants hitting his ankles and he was quick to slip out of his pants and socks. He palmed his hard cock through his boxer briefs as she watched him touch himself.

He could see the change in her, the look of desire and lust in her eyes. The way she was admiring him now, rather than cowering at him. She was appreciating what was before her. His pale skin, his sculpted body, his naked form. He’s seen her, stripped her bare. But normally he's pulled his dick out and just fucked her. This was uncharted territory, this was new. And he liked it. He liked the way she was looking at him, feeding his ego and willingly participating. This, yes, this was something fun for him. And oh yeah, she wanted this, he could see it all over her.

One foot, then the other, Ransom stepped into the tub and sat opposite of her, careful to avoid the faucet. The water felt inviting, the company even more so. Her one leg nestled between his legs while the other just to the outside of them. She slid her left foot up close to his thigh, bending her leg at the knee. At this new comfortable position, his fingers started drawing intricate circles along her shin and calf. He watched her inhale deeply and tilt her head towards her shoulder, observing him. 

As you watched him, carefully, you saw him swallow, the hollow of this throat constricting a little before he took a deep breath, his touch on your leg still feather light. You wanted to lose yourself, give into the desire that you were feeling whether it be wrong or right, at that point in time you were past caring. You were in this position, nothing was going to change that, so was it really wrong to want to feel something more than fear? It was like there was a game of chess being played between your mind and heart, your gut and will.

And then, Checkmate, the idea came to you. You had a chance here to keep Ransom satisfied but on your terms. You had the power. And as long as you kept it that way you could control his temper and his actions, and get what you now shamefully admitted to yourself that you wanted.  And the realisation that you had the winning move here was almost liberating.

Ransom shifted a little, the water sloshing around him as he sat up, his chest poking a little further out of the water as he studied your face, and you waited to see what he would do. His tongue poked the inside of his cheek, he was clearly going through a mental battle himself and eventually he licked his lips, his gaze dropping to your breasts which were just under the water line and he swallowed once more before his hand on your leg stilled and he squeezed your calf muscle gently before he moved, leaning forward, his large hand once more resting against your cheek as he drew you in for another deep, gentle kiss.

You leaned into him, letting his lips works softly against yours as your hand dropped under the water and grasped his solid cock, giving him a gentle stroke. The kiss stuttered immediately, and he let out a choked groan as his eyes flew open, locking onto yours.

“Sit back.” You encouraged, and he did just that, his back once more resting against the top as you followed him, your hand remaining soft but firm enough to keep drawing those noises of satisfaction from his throat. His head tipped back as he let you take control, his Adams apple bobbing, eyes closing as no words left his lips, no dirty talk, no hissed little demands about what depraved position he wanted you to adopt, nothing. You held the power, and that turned you on in a way it really shouldn’t.

He gave a strangled hiss as you gripped him tighter and then you shifted, letting go to allow yourself to move your right knee to his left side, following with your other, his eyes flying open, a look of surprise on his face as you lined yourself up and his hands reached up, surprisingly gentle as they rest against your hips. There wasn’t much room, but it was doable, and you sank down onto him, his eyes flying to your hips as you both gave a little whimper as he filled you completely.

His fingers flexed against your skin, blunt nails biting ever so slightly, as you remained still, your hands sliding up his chest, curling over his shoulders. He was tense, coiled like a spring, clearly fighting back the urge to slam up into you and you began to work at a little of that tension, fingers rubbing up and down his neck, the index on your right trailing that vein that was bulging along his throat. His eyes never left yours until you softly began to knead at the strained muscles along his shoulders and neck, massaging deeply as you worked at the knots, his hands still resting on your hips, contracting every so often as you found a particularly knotty spot.

Every so often, he would make the slightest of movements, simply because he was relaxed and you could feel your walls fluttering sporadically, just from being full and stretched to your fill. But, still he made no move to take over, until at one point you hit a particularly knotty area at the point his neck met his collar bone and he gave a little jolt which caused you to groan and he opened his eyes, searching almost for permission. When he found no objection, his hands gently started rocking you.

The pressure and friction on your clit was boiling. It was slow and burned in a way that was so delightful it was almost painful. And, before you could stop yourself you were rolling into him as he kept that same delectably slow rhythm, rocking you back and forth slowly, deeply, before one hand left your hips and grasped the back of your neck, pulling you down for a deep kiss.

Ransom pulled away from her, breathless, his forehead against hers. The words were barely heard, but he knew he said, "I want you..."

"You have me," she replied in a soft whisper. 

"Not here," he shook his head, their foreheads rubbing. He glided his nose against hers. 

He missed the way she felt around him the second she managed to stand and slip out of the tub. Ransom was quickly behind her, following, bubbles and water dripping to the floor from them both be damned. He followed her to the bed where she stood at its edge, her eyes inviting him. He took a seat, bare ass and thighs soaking the comforter, knees bent over the edge. His eyes roamed her body, taking her all in. His own deep appreciation for her firm an awakening in his soul.

Slowly, just like she had in the tub, one knee slipped passed a hip, the other following. His lips were on her breasts, inhaling the scent of the oils and bubbles clinging to her skin as his tongue traced a hardened nipple and then the other. As he did so, she sunk back down his shaft again, a guttural groan escaping them both. She was ready, the thick vein of his cock giving a seductive friction against her wall.

Ransom ran his hands up and down her back, long index finger tracing up and down her spine as hot open mouth, needy kisses covered as much skin as he could. His hands splayed over her shoulder blades as his hips met her grind, catching her as Y/N arched into his movements. Her head tipped back, sheer wanton pleasure radiated from her with a heat he could almost feel. His mouth moved to the spot he knew drove her wild on her neck under her ear and the little whimper she made was nothing short of delectable. 

As he began to lean back towards the mattress, he rolled her body against his, bringing her down with him. He planted his heels against the comforter and scooted them both to the center of the bed, still buried deep inside her. With a hand back to her hip, a gentle grip keeping his own pace with her rhythm, the other tangled in her messy hair as his tongue dove deep into her mouth, savoring each pass her own tongue made against his. He could feel her body flutter against him, sweet kisses her walls made against his solid cock. Her hands braced herself against his broad chest as she sat up, riding him with fluid, long rolls of her hips and he shivered, despite the searing fire between them. He was no longer fighting that desire to take control, he was more than happy to let her take the lead and respond accordingly, dare he say he was enjoying it. The slowness and sheer intimacy was something he never knew he’d craved until now and as she gave a particularly desperate roll of her hips he groaned, "Fuck yeah, Baby, just...like...that..."

A gasp and a shudder ran through you, your walls clenching down on him as a rush of power surged through your entire body. You rolled your hips deeper against him, the friction against your clit nearly too much. You brought your eyes down and looked down at his face, strong jaw, piercing eyes, his thick bottom lip sucked between his teeth. You had full control over him, beneath you he was as powerless as you had been made to feel. "Oh, God," you’re ready to sing a song of pure ecstasy as your body coils and tightens under your own volition. The signs of orgasm were just...right...there.

As you felt a deep thrust from his hips, hitting your sensitive and perfect spot within, your head lulled back and you felt his name roll off of your tongue, "Ransom...."

At the sound of his name spilling from her mouth Ransom gave a groan. It wasn’t Hugh, or Drysdale, it was Ransom. The one thing she had refused to say from day one and she had finally let herself go enough to give in to what he knew she wanted. His chest swelled, a warm feeling flooding from his toes right to his head and he surged up, his lips on hers, the kiss sloppy as with an easy movement he flipped them both so she was underneath him, all semblance of self-control now lost as her voice echoed round his mind, the soft, sultry way in which she’d cried his name repeating like a prayer. 

"Gimme one more, baby, just one more..." his hips were thrusting hard, but not painfully so."Say it again, please," his voice was laced with fire and emotion, a whimper or sob nearly on his lips.

"Ransom...." she replied coming again and his fingers gripped into her skin, holding her in place as his seed shot deep into her, filling her, his entire body shaking, no nearly convusling as he came.

Breathlessly, they laid there, his body gently caging her in, her fingers curling around his neck and into the nape of his hair.

“Thank you.” He whispered, and you blinked, not quite sure you’d heard him right.

“What for?” You asked, your breath still punctuated by your gasps as you came down from your high.”

“For trusting me.” His nose nudged yours and you looked into his eyes, “for forgiving me.”

“I’m not sure I have.” You replied honestly, and a frown furrowed his brown before he sighed and closed his eyes, his head hanging a little.

“That’s fair, I suppose.” He looked back at you before he moved, pulling out of you and immediately you missed his presence, the heat of his body gone as he rolled to his side. You waited for him to rise and dress as he usually did but he made no effort to move. Instead he lay still, looking up at the ceiling before he turned onto his side, his fingers gently trailing down your bruised cheek as it brushed the soft pillow when you turned to look at him.

“Can I stay?” He asked.

It was a pointless question. Because, let’s face it, you didn’t have a choice. If he didn’t want to go he wasn’t going to, and it wasn’t like you could leave. But, nevertheless, the fact he had bothered to ask you in the first place was another first. And you found yourself suddenly believing that if you did say no, he would leave.

Instead you nodded, and he gave you a small smile, not a sneer or a smirk, a genuine smile that lit up his handsome face as he leaned over and pressed his lips tenderly to yours.

Together you managed to get yourself under the duvet before you reached up for the lamp and clicked it off before settling on your side, facing away from him.

“My err, my cheek hurts.” You said quietly, offering him an explanation as to why you’d turned your back on him. He gave a small sigh and one of his arms snaked under your neck, the other curled round your bare body, resting just underneath your breasts. He gave your shoulder a gentle kiss, another unspoken apology before you felt him tug you back into him, your back pressing against the hard wall of his chest.

He was the first to fall asleep, his body spent as was yours but you laid there still feeling the electricity roll through your muscles, tiredness settling into your bones. You had given him what he wanted but kept your ground and done it on your terms. It's what he'd needed this entire time, to hear his name from your lips, to be wanted to be cared about, to be "loved". You internally scoffed. To be loved... you doubted he had any idea what that actually meant, to be loved unconditionally. But as you’d questioned the other day over hot chocolate, was that really his fault?

This situation was fucked up. What you were doing was fucked up, but, if giving him what he wanted and what he needed kept you in the driving seat, so to speak, you could work with it.

**** Part 5

[gingerwritess]

just a question regarding the loki imagines ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°),, if loki lives for thousands of years , what happens to his mortal wife and elliot? do they just die within their 100 years or so?? you might’ve answered this before but I was just curious...absolutely adore your writing!! xx

it’s the mortality talk. happy reading... (the read more tag isn’t working i’m sorry! it’s in the wrong place and i can’t move it :( )

warnings: talk of death/mortality, mentions of childbirth, poor editing

“Elliot’s finally down. He put up a fight this time.”

You glance up, watching Loki peel his shirt off. “That’s not like him.”

“Didn’t want to leave his Blueberry,” he chuckles. “Can’t blame him.”

A soft smile on his lips, he settles onto the bed beside you, pressing a kiss to your temple before laying his head on your shoulder to gaze down at the tiny baby girl in your arms.

“She’s a hungry one,” he murmurs, reaching down to cradle her head as she feeds. “Are you still okay?”

You nod with a small smile. You’re alright, all things considered. As okay as someone who nearly lost their child can be.

Loki wraps his arms around you for a moment, lifting you carefully to set you between his legs, resting against his chest. You don’t protest, focusing on keeping Frigg close, and you feel him kiss the top of your head, run a hand down the back of your neck.

That all-too-familiar warmth curls around your shoulders and you can’t help but sink back into him as the tension gives way to a relief you haven’t felt for nine months.

It’s a somber evening.

You want to celebrate, revel in the fact that your daughter is alive, in your arms, but...neither you nor Loki can manage to keep a smile on your face for more than a few minutes at a time.

Neither of you want to bring it up, either.

So you sit there, giving your daughter any life you can offer, and Loki cradles you both close against him, arms under yours and head against your cheek, his breath tickling your skin.

He brushes a finger over Frigg’s cheek as she sucks, and her whole body jerks, a tiny hand hand flying out to grab Loki’s finger.

“Ow.”

You grimace, the sudden movement not exactly comfortable, and try to reposition her for a bit more relief.

“Sorry,” Loki whispers, dropping a kiss to your cheek.

Silence settles heavy over the room again, both of you staring at this miracle of a baby in your arms, gripping onto Loki’s finger with a tiny death-grip.

You catch your bottom lip between your teeth.

“Loki...”

He grabs your chin in his free hand and kisses you, hard.

“We don’t have to talk about it.”

Your eyes sting when he pulls away, trying to give you a steady smile, a reassuring gaze, trying to be everything you need.

That only makes this harder.

“Yes, we do,” you manage to say, quickly turning to lean back against him; tears are the last thing he needs from you right now. “We can’t keep ignoring this, it’s–it’s going to catch up with us.”

You feel him swallow thickly behind you, his chest lifting under your back.

“We can keep doing what we’re doing. Not thinking about it. Focus on the present, and whatever happens in–in the future...”

His voice cracks, and he falls silent.

The grip he has on you borders on bruising.

Your vision swims and you take a shuddering breath, clutching your daughter to your chest.

“What the hell are we doing?”

He can only make a distraught noise in the back of his throat, giving a tiny jerk of his head. Seconds away from breaking, you can tell.

“We had another kid,” you whisper, more to yourself than to him. “And she can die.”

Loki is breathing sharply through his nose, his teeth gritted and eyes clenched shut, willing this conversation to die and fix itself.

“Loki.” You tap the back of his hand. “Did I die, too?”

The desperation in the way he buries his face in the curve of your neck answers the question for you.

No force of clenching your teeth can stop the tears anymore, and you quickly shift Frigg to one arm and press your fingers to your eyelids, rubbing away the tears before they fall, fighting back the lump in your throat.

“What are we doing?” you choke out again, not trusting your eyes to be open. “Loki, we–we have kids, what the hell were we thinking—”

“Stop it,” he hisses, still hiding in the curve of your neck. “Don’t do that.”

“I have to,” you plead, voice trembling. “If you won’t think about it, someone has to, and–and I’m going to be the one who dies—”

His grip on you tightens. “Please stop.”

You couldn’t if you tried.

“You’ll just move on, and the kids—they’ll probably stay with you, too, or maybe they’ll die with me, and we have to live the rest of our lives just waiting for them to die—”

“Shut up,” he groans into your skin.

“I can’t live like that,” you choke, clapping a hand over your mouth at the awful sob that escapes. “I don’t know what we were thinking, getting together, having kids—”

“Shut up, norns, stop.”

“No, you listen to me,” you gulp, eyes clenched shut. “I’m just a human, you’re–you’re like, four other things and I don’t even know why we thought this could work—I won’t–I won’t even get your lifetime, much less th—”

An ice-cold, blue finger lodges itself between your teeth, shocking the rest of your worries to freeze in your throat, and Loki lifts his tear stained face to level with your ear, forehead pressed to your temple.

“Bite,” he hisses in your ear. “Do it. As hard as you can.”

Teary eyes wide and frantic, you try to protest and squirm out of his grip, but his gaze is feral, breathing erratic.

“Bite.”

So you do, eyes locked with his.

His eyelids flutter shut when your teeth break skin, frozen blood dripping onto your lips.

For a horrid moment he won’t move, and Frigg has stopped sucking, probably disturbed by your pounding heart; his hand is blue over your jaw, pulling your head back against his shoulder, his bleeding finger still between your teeth.

“‘Oki,” you gulp around his finger, the tightness of your throat starting to choke you up again.

“My blood,” he whispers, staring down at your mouth. “By your doing.”

You nod frantically, your eyes pleading with him to let you go. You told me to.

Even with the bruising grip he has on you, you can’t find it in yourself to be upset at him for it; he’s grounding you, grounding himself, in the only way that makes sense to him.

“Breathe.”

He says it to himself, struggling to remember how, but you follow his silently counted focus with him, reaching up to brush your fingertips across his lips.

Minutes tick by before you’ve noticed your chest rising and falling with Loki’s, your heartbeat slowing; your day-old daughter latches back on, her tiny eyes opening to gaze up at you.

Loki hasn’t reached the point of opening his eyes.

You move for him, reaching up and carefully pulling his hand away from your mouth, placing a gentle kiss on the bite mark.

“Thank you,” he breathes, staring at the bite.

Generally when something like this happens, it’s only to one of you, and the other is there to help the other back to their feet. But this time, you don’t know if you can lift him when you’re still fallen yourself.

So when he presses his lips to your jaw and whispers “let’s have it out,” it catches you by complete surprise.

“You don’t...want to wait?”

“No. We’ve waited too long already, you were right.”

You take another deep breath; here we go. This has to be figured out. Decided.

“Turn around,” he adds quietly, nudging your back to help you turn to face him. “I need to look at you.”

You oblige him, cradling Frigg close to not disrupt her, and when you sit between his legs facing him and get a good look at him, your heart shatters.

“We’ll figure it out,” you promise, caressing his tear-stained cheek with your free hand. “That’s what we do.”

He nods; but it’s more of a resignation, a farewell before marching off to war, a goodbye wave out of a window.

Where to start.

—

“So,” Loki begins shakily, “you–you are going to die. Soon.”

You give him a sad smile. “Right. And you are going to keep living. For a long time after I’m gone.”

His eyes snap shut and he grunts, smashing a fist to his mouth to stop the sob that he almost lets out.

You give him a moment.

“You’ll ruin me,” he eventually concedes, voice still muffled and thick with tears. “If you die, I’ll be ruined. There’s no way I could function, I–I couldn’t be what our children need.”

“You know that’s not true...”

He holds up a hand. “Don’t. Just don’t.”

Your heart sinks, and you take his hand in yours and hold tight.

“Then let’s figure out our options.”

“You come with me,” he blurts, “you eat the fruit, extend your life to match mine, we give it to the kids, and nobody has to go. Nobody...nobody leaves.”

“But we would need Odin’s permission,” you point out, stroking your thumb over his knuckles. “And we don’t know how human bodies would react to that.”

“Then I will steal them for you.” Loki lurches forward, eyes ablaze, and grabs your face in his hands. “I will break every law I’ve ever known and rewrite the rules of nature, just to have you by my side.”

Your eyes burn and you look down at Frigg, wishing your husband didn’t sound so desperate, so certain that he knows the perfect solution.

“That’ll just cause a million problems. Humans with immortality, it’s not going to be a good mix. If I can have it, then every human is going to feel they have a right to it.”

“Then we don’t tell any other humans. Keep it above the clouds, between us.”

Your eyes close with the soft shake of your head, and Loki bares his teeth in a quiet snarl.

“Talk to me,” he pleads, eyes glistening. “Why not? Tell me, please, tell me.”

“I don’t...” you swallow thickly, gaze darting to anywhere but his.

“Tell me.”

“I don’t know if I want to live forever.”

You watch the words smack him across the face. Imprint themselves on his forehead, gouge his eyes out. In an instant his face sets like stone, a practiced facade void of any betraying emotion.

“You don’t?”

“I...I don’t know,” you whisper; he looks so hurt. “Hear me out, okay? It’s not you.”

He stays silent, chewing the inside of his cheek.

“I think...maybe it’s nice having an endpoint,” you start cautiously. “Knowing that one day I’ll have reached the end, and–and hopefully have done a good job. That’s been the only constant my entire life.”

“And you actually want that??”

“I don’t know.”

“You should know,” Loki says incredulously, staring at you as if you’d gone insane. “There’s no question, I–I can’t believe you’re even entertaining this.”

“What about the kids?” You nod towards the door; Elliot. “He has friends. We have friends, I have family—human family—and I’ll have to watch them die. If my life changes, I can’t just bring along anyone I want. It doesn’t work like that.”

He clenches his jaw, his gaze dropping to Frigg. “It can work like that for us.”

“But it’s not just us. Everyone we know and love would die and we would have to watch.”

“So you’re scared.” He taps a finger on Frigg’s tiny toes. “You’re just scared of losing people?”

“Of course I am,” you hiss. “I’m terrified, and you certainly aren’t helping put me at ease.”

That hits him a little harder, and for a moment he stays silent, absently playing with Frigg’s toes while she continues to eat.

“There’s still the other option,” you quietly remind him, reaching over to catch his hand in yours.

“Ah, the one where I kill myself for you?”

“No...no, Loki, don’t.”

“I’ve tried,” Loki says bluntly, eyes stone cold. “It didn’t work out well.”

You chew your lip, thumb rubbing over his knuckles. “You’re scared, too. You’re not fooling me.”

His shoulders sink.

It’s perfectly twisted, and he shouldn’t be so surprised that this is how his life would end up: you want to die together, he wants to live together.

And you’re both terrified.

“I’m...sorry. Sorry.” He shakes his head. “Which one, then?”

“Choose a sacrifice,” you quietly answer. “I don’t think there’s a happy ending either way.”

Loki falls silent, his gaze dropping to his hand in yours. Your thumb still moves over his knuckles, his daughter cradled to your chest.

“Would you...be happy if we went my way?”

You can’t answer; you don’t have an answer.

Your husband nods. “Alright.”

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, eyes clenched shut, “I don’t know. Humans have never had to answer a question like that, I-I have no category for something like this. I don’t know.”

“Alright.” He forces a smile, catching your thumb with his. “Then starting now, I have about seventy years until I die.”

You blink up at him through teary eyes. “What??”

“I’ll die. When you do.” He reaches up and wipes away one of the tears that makes it down your cheek, a cracked smile on his lips. “We’ll go together, when the time is right.”

“No,” you choke, “no, I can’t make you do that—”

“My love.”

The tears on his cheeks only adorn his smile all the more beautifully, and he takes your face in his hands, brushing his thumb over your lips.

“You are not making me do anything.”

“I’m guilting you,” you gulp. “Aren’t I?”

“No.” He shakes his head. “Not in the slightest. I’m choosing this. You are my choice.”

“Loki—”

Pressing his lips to yours, he shuts you up with a harsh kiss. “I would rather live a hundred years by your side,” he murmurs, “than five thousand more without you.”

“But I’m asking you to die,” you whisper, searching his eyes for the lie, “I am asking you to kill yourself for me. Just say no and leave, Loki, say no.”

He laughs softly and shakes his head again. “No. You’ve sacrificed enough for me, let me try to repay you for all you’ve done.”

You can only stare up at him, trying to regain control of yourself, clutching your daughter close; Loki just smiles, and you know his mind is made.

“I think,” he says, and kisses the tip of your nose, “perhaps I was only allowed my...immortality or whatnot, to keep me alive until I met you.”

You wipe at your eyes with the sleeve of his shirt. “What do you mean?”

“Perhaps I am a man out of time.” His gaze drops to Frigg. “I know this is where I am supposed to be, so maybe now is the time when my eternity ends and I become a part of yours.”

“You–you mean it?” You sniff, and Frigg lets out a quiet mewl to let you know she’s had her fill.

“More than I’ve ever meant anything in my life.”

“Are you sure??”

“Listen to me,” he laughs, carefully taking Frigg from your arms. “You’ve given me life a hundred times over—and two entirely new lives.” He kisses Frigg’s tiny forehead. “So the least I can do is give you mine. End of discussion.”

Frigg starts crying then, and Loki pulls himself to his feet to gently rock her and pace around the bed, quietly crooning at the tiny girl.

In another world, it’d be laughable: she barely extends the length of his hands when he cradles her in them. And he can only stare at her, this little being he lost and gained all at once.

Steeling yourself, you manage to sit up on your knees—everything still hurts from giving birth just a day before—and call Loki over.

He gently pushes you back down though, back onto the pillows, and sits beside you. Your teeth worry at your bottom lip, and you study his eyes.

“Are you lying?”

The only change you find in them is a new sadness, his soft smile faltering.

“I am not,” he promises, “and I cannot. Not to you.”

Elliot’s tired eyes peek through the doorway before you have a chance to ask him one more time.

“Why’s she crying, momma?”

“You,” Loki frowns at the little boy—half-heartedly, of course, “are supposed to be asleep.”

That guilty grin is going to get him into trouble one day.

He gives some rambling excuse, something about his heart hurting and his head hurting and it being too loud to fall asleep, but you don’t care. There’s a light in Elliot’s eyes that lifts the weight off your chest, a glimmer of contentment in the kid’s grin, and you don’t want him to go back to bed.

Once his sister is secure in his arms, Loki scoops them both up and carries them to your bed. “You have to sleep,” he warns him, tapping him on the nose. “No tricks tonight, your mother needs to rest.”

Elliot only giggles and hugs Frigg to his chest, the little prince snuggling into the pillows between you and Loki. 

You lay back down, watching Elliot make faces at the baby, and Loki climbs into bed on his other side with a quick smooch to his cheek. He reaches over Elliot’s legs and takes your hand, giving it a squeeze, and you offer him a small smile, half-hidden in your pillow. 

Should we tell him? you mouth, and Loki presses his lips into a thin line, mulling over the thought. 

Between the two of you, Frigg blows a spit bubble, which only makes Elliot laugh so hard he snorts, and Loki shakes his head with a smile he can’t fight.

Not for a long, long time.

You nod and squeeze his hand, too. 

“Goodnight, crazies.” 

“Night,” Elliot giggles, and you know no sleeping is going to be happening anytime soon. “Love ya.”

“I love you,” Loki announces, tapping his thumb on the back of your hand. “I love all three of you, so, so much.”

You fall asleep that night hand-in-hand and cuddled up to your babies, content with the firm decision that that, however long this life lasts, will be enough.

―   ―   ―   ―

~ masterlist link in my bio ~

loki tags: @bluediamond007 @himitoshi @drakesfiance @destiel1597 @dangertoozmanykids101 @archy3001 @jcalpha1 @yzssie @skullvieplu @forthesnakeofdragons @skulliebythesea @wegingerangelica @storiesfrommirkwood @agarwaeneth @adaliamalfoy @laurfangirl424@fitzsimmons-is-forever @ladylokimischief @katelinwrites @tarynkauai @polaristrange @loavesofmeat @canadian-ravenpuff-multishipper @lou-makes-me-strong @holyn0vak @chocolatealmondmillk @swtnrholland @kenzieam @jessiejunebug  @the-republic-and-face-of-texas

~ scroll here! ~

@doralupin01 @whitewitchdown @atomiccharmer @falconfeather23435 @babygirlicecream @avengrcs @vethrvolnir2 @bookgirlunicorn @wabisabigrl @myhealingstar @khaleesi-marvel @ei77777 @spacecrumbs @scarlettghost13 @rocks-are-pretty-odd @confessionsofastrugglingteen @easilydistractedwriter @arttasticgreatnessoftheawesome77 @fluffyllamaswearinghats @milktearose @lcyouinhell @h0tshotholland @dontmesswithmemundane @southsidesarcasticwriter @helnik-s @lilith-akemi @fire-in-her-veinz @unlikelysamwinchesteronahunt @mischievousbellerina @kcd15

~ scroll here ~

@mellowgirl01 @lokislilcaribbeanprincess @allthingzhiddleston @scorpionchild81 @lokixme @blue-automne @devilbat @kangaroobunny @end-up-well @planetariumx @sarcsep @mrfandomtastic @amaru163 @im-way-too-many-fandoms @caswinchester2000 @kybaeza @wester-than-west @vintagesunshinebitch @adefectivedetective @poetic-nikolai @moonduhsted @kerri-masson @iamverity @innaminitus @spnbarnes @narcissxblack @woohoney @anxiousamandapanda @padmeisgay @authordreaming13 @lokisironthrone @theunknowinglys

~ scroll here ~

@highfuncti0ningfangirl @epicfallenismine @stubby-toe-589331 @fandomnerdsarecool @retrofantasyland @arch-venus25 @forever-trapped-in-my-dreams @littleredstarfish @marshyrebelcloud @okie–loki @atterodominatus @stfxlou @pandacookieowo @tonakings @shinisenko @tinchentitri @nildespirandum @thefallenbibliophilequote @vodka-and-some-sass @highfunctioningfangirl19 @sadwaywardkid @lokioneshot @brooksaza @wild-honey-piy @ellaenchanted91 @watermelon-lights19 @just-another-romantic @skinny-macncheese @lokisironthrone @rorybutnotgilmore

~ scroll here ~

@toozmanykids @brooklyn-times @nonsensicalobsessions @londonisacountry @peterparkerbabyyy @rogvewitch @imnotrevealingmyname @magnitude101999 @pistachoz @sigyn-njorddottir

[plants-rule]

(adsbygoogle = window.adsbygoogle || []).push({ google_ad_client: "ca-pub-3156616266723397", enable_page_level_ads: true });

My third, 5-minute “Get Healthy” Simple Step:

 4 Fruits a Day

Pop question:

Would you rather eat:

1 “Healthy” Energy Bar

#gallery-0-17 { margin: auto; } #gallery-0-17 .gallery-item { float: left; margin-top: 10px; text-align: center; width: 50%; } #gallery-0-17 img { border: 2px solid #cfcfcf; } #gallery-0-17 .gallery-caption { margin-left: 0; } /* see gallery_shortcode() in wp-includes/media.php */

200 calories

13g fat

15g carbs

6g fiber

6g protein

Gone in 6 bites

or:

4 Pieces of Fruit

Fresh peaches and nectarines

230 calories

1g fat

58g carbs

11g fiber

3g protein

4 snacks you can spread throughout the day

Answer:  Pick the fruit

It’s so simple, it’s ridiculous.

When you’re craving a sweet treat at the end of a meal, a juicy burst of flavor, or a crunchy, crispy snack — reach for fruit.  Fruit is “Nature’s Candy”.  It’s all-natural, unrefined goodness. It is packed with nutrients like Vitamin C, Potassium, fiber, and even a shot of protein.  It’s gluten-free, plant-based, and you can splurge on organic for less than the cost of fancy granola bars.

Sadly, though, most of us aren’t eating enough of it.  In fact, only 33% of adults are eating fruit 2 or more times a day.  That means most of us are eating only 1 (or even none!) servings a day.

Fruit is a healthy source of vitamins, fiber, and natural sweetness.  It can be a delicious treat any time of day, convenient for on-the-go snacking or an impressive healthy dessert.  With a rainbow of colors and flavors to choose from, fruit provides endless recipe possibilities.  

Could you eat:

Strawberries at breakfast

An orange at lunch

A banana as an afternoon snack, and

An apple with cinnamon for dessert after dinner?

Or maybe:  Toss some blueberries in your oatmeal, add some pineapple to your salad, snack on a few grapes during the bus ride home, and eat a 5-Minute Chocolate Banana “I-Scream!”; at night?

Your goal this week:  Eat 4 Natural, Whole Fresh Fruits Every Day

I’ve got some tips and tricks to get you started…

Here’s my Ultimate Chef’s Guide:

New Ideas on how to Cook and Enjoy Fruit

Besides just biting into a fresh apple, there are quite a few options for cooking fruit.  You can stuff and bake those apples, grill some pineapple, or poach some pears.  My experience as a plant-based chef has taught me a few key lessons on basic cooking techniques for fruit:

[the_ad_placement id=”content”]

Roasting or Baking

Skill Level: Intermediate                                  Taste Level: Nervous Seedling

Use on: Harder, sturdier fruits like apples, pears, and peaches

How to do it: Preheat oven to 375.  Use an apple corer or a small paring knife to remove the core, seeds, and pit.   Place the fruit into a baking dish and add enough water to cover the bottom of the pan.  Sprinkle on a teaspoon or so of cinnamon or pumpkin spice mix.  Cover and bake 40 minutes, then remove the cover for another 10-15 minutes.  You want the fruit to be knife-tender and slightly brown on top.

Chef’s Tips for Ultimate Flavor: You can add extra texture and delicious flavor by stuffing the fruit.  For a quick gluten-free, healthy stuffing, mix: rolled oats, raisins, pecans, and cinnamon. Play with other variations by mixing in dried cherries, chopped dates, walnut pieces, cooked brown rice, nutmeg, and ginger.

#gallery-0-18 { margin: auto; } #gallery-0-18 .gallery-item { float: left; margin-top: 10px; text-align: center; width: 33%; } #gallery-0-18 img { border: 2px solid #cfcfcf; } #gallery-0-18 .gallery-caption { margin-left: 0; } /* see gallery_shortcode() in wp-includes/media.php */

Chef’s Tip: Make a quick, healthy stuffing for baked apples by combining gluten-free rolled oats, raisins, pecans, and cinnamon

Chef’s Tip: An apple corer makes quick work of baking off a batch of healthy, satisfying fruit treats

Chef’s Baking Tip: The apples are done baking when a knife easily slides in and out. You’ve got a satisfying, warm, delicious dessert ready to go.

Poaching or Stewing

Skill Level: Intermediate

Taste Level: Curious Seedling – Confident Brussel Sprout

Use on: Whole or halved fresh apples, pears, peaches, apricots, and nectarines.  Also great to rehydrate dried fruits like cherries, apricots, and figs.

How to do it:  To poach fruit, first prepare your fruit by removing any inedible parts (like core, seed, or tough peels).  Place fruit into a wide pan and add enough liquid to come up about 1/2 inch of the bottom of the fruit.  Partially cover and bring to a simmer.  Simmer over low for 10 minutes.  Then, flip the fruit, and simmer another 10 minutes, or until the fruit is tender enough to pass the knife-glide test.  Serve the fruit with the poached liquid.  The only difference between stewing and poaching?  With stewing, you’ll add enough liquid to completely cover the fruit and generally cook the fruit longer.

To make the Ultimate:  Infuse the poaching or stewing liquid with flavor.  Whole Vanilla Beans and a splash of white wine are classic.  A dash of cinnamon or pumpkin pie spice is an easy go-to option.  For fancier flavor, try spices like Cardamom, Anise, Cloves, or Chinese Five-Spice.

For more interesting textures, use both dried and fresh fruits.  The dried fruits will plump up as they absorb the poaching liquid, creating delicious “flavor bursts”.

Chef’s Tip: Add enough liquid to cover just 1/2-inch of the fruit. Stir or flip the fruit to make sure it even soaks up some of the poaching liquid for healthy, fat-free, delicious flavor

Broiling or Grilling

Skill Level: Intermediate                             Taste Level: Curious Seedling – Confident Brussel Sprout

Use on: Tropical fruits like pineapple, mango, banana; Stone fruits like peaches, plums, and apricots; other fun fruits like apples and grapefruit — so many options!

How to do it:  Basically, you want to heat a grill or your broiler to a “Hi” heat.  Cut your fruit in half and leave in large pieces.  If you’re using something like a peach or apple, remove the pit or seeds.  Once your grill is nice and hot, place the fruit on the grill.  Don’t touch it!  Let it sear for at least 5 minutes.  This will help the fruit caramelize, bringing out the natural sugars.  It will also help release the fruit, making it easier to flip.  After 5 minutes or so, flip the fruit and grill another 3-5 minutes on the second side.

To broil:  The only difference between broiling and grilling is where your flame is.  For grilling, the flame is below.  For broiling, it’s above.  You can broil a large quantity of fruit in your oven.  Simply spread the fruit onto a baking sheet, leaving the cut side facing up.  Broil 5 minutes, flip, and finish another 5 minutes.

Easy Broiled Apples – Healthy, Gluten-Free, Oil-Free, No Sugar Added, Plant-Based, Vegan Fruit Dessert Snack Recipe

Broiled Banana with Cinnamon and Cocoa Nibs – Healthy, Gluten-Free, Grain-Free, Paleo, Oil-Free, Plant-Based, Vegan REcipe

Frozen…and even Canned

Skill Level: Beginner                             Taste Level: Curious Seedling – Confident Brussel Sprout

Use on: Frozen berries, mango, banana, peaches, and pineapple

How to do it:  When fresh fruit isn’t at its peak, try frozen instead.  Frozen fruit is packed during the height of the season, when fruit is at its ripest, so it can provide high-quality sweetness at a reasonable price.  Some organic fruits like wild blueberries or organic peaches are cheaper frozen.  In fact, many chefs prefer the consistency that frozen fruits provide, especially in baking recipes.

Wild Blueberries add a pop of sweet delicious flavor to these healthy vegan muffins. You can use frozen year-round

Fresh

Skill Level: Beginner                             Taste Level: Curious Seedling – Confident Brussel Sprout

Use on: Anything!  Oranges, apples, mangos, blueberries, pineapple, watermelon…whatever looks delicious!

How to do it:  There aren’t many “rules” when it comes to eating fresh fruit.  Generally, it’s best to follow what is in season…strawberries in January usually aren’t as flavorful as they are in May.  However, with year-round indoor farming catching ground and international shipping that brings us incredible plums from Argentina, even this guideline isn’t steadfast.

Two tips on picking the best fruit:

1)  Smell it — If you can close your eyes and identify the fruit (or at least smell sweetness), you’re off to a good start

2)  Weigh it — Heavier fruit is generally juicier, riper, and more delicious.  You can just hold it in your hands to give it the “weight test”.  If the fruit feels heavier than it looks, you’re good to go.

To make the Ultimate:   Ever had an apple tasting?  Why not try this at your next dinner party?  Rather than a cheese tasting or wine tasting, choose 4-5 different varieties of apples from the market.  Slice them up, then lead a “tasting” where your guests rate the apples on color, sweetness/tartness, crispness, and overall flavor.

Or make tropical fruit skewers with some unique fruits like papaya, guava, and lychee?  This is a fun way to bring some playfulness to dessert.

For kids:  Try the “color challenge”.  Next time the kids join you for grocery shopping, give them to the goal to choose “2 red, 1 purple, and 1 orange” fruits.  They might come back with red apples, purple grapes, and orange grapefruit…or something totally different!  They’ll love playing a game AND getting to have a choice in what groceries come home.

Healthy Fruit Nutrition:

Heart-Healthy Fiber

Nutrition Powerhouse

Can you eat Too Much?

Nutrition Powerhouse Truths:  Fruit is naturally a good source of Vitamin C, Potassium, Folate, and Dietary Fiber.  These nutrients help fight colds, protect you from heart disease, lower blood cholesterol, help your skin heal from cuts, improve red blood cell function, and generally keep you moving and grooving for years to come.

Too Much Fruit:  Is it possible to eat too much fruit?  Despite the fact that most of us aren’t getting enough fresh fruit in our diets, this is one of the most common concerns.  Often we’re worried about “too much sugar” or “fructose toxicity”.  However, research has shown that eating even 20 servings of fruit a day was safe, even lowering cholesterol.  This article on the Forks Over Knives blog lays it all out: Is it Possible to Eat Too Much Fruit?

Check out my Fruit Videos on YouTube:

Fruit: How to Pick It and Cut It

Easy and Creative Fruit Recipes:

Hungry Yet?

Here are some healthy, plant-based recipes to inspire you to Eat Your Fruit:

Cherries, Berries, Pineapple, Pears: 15 Easy and Creative Healthy Fruit Recipes

[the_ad_placement id=”content”]

References and More Reading:

Why is it Important to Eat Fruit, Choosemyplate.gov : https://www.choosemyplate.gov/fruits-nutrients-health

Fruit and vegetable consumption among adults–United States, 2005. Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC): https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmed/17363889

Is It Possible to Eat Too Much Fruit? BY NAOMI IMATOME-YUN, Forks Over Knives blog: https://www.forksoverknives.com/is-it-possible-to-eat-too-much-fruit/

Step Three: 4 Fruits a Day, An Easy Change towards a Healthy, Plant-Based Life My third, 5-minute “Get Healthy” Simple Step:  4 Fruits a Day Pop question: Would you rather eat:

[nemodernmama]

Top 10 things you could be making yourself!

Along my journey to be healthier I was shocked to understand the amount of chemicals I was consuming in certain products. I was equally shocked when I discovered how flippin’ easy these items were to make myself. When it comes to making changes, I am a huge fan of little changes that make big impacts. Try these out and let me know what you think!

1) Dressings:

Dressings take no less than 30 seconds to make. Seriously, 30 seconds people!!! They can contain as little as two ingredients (oil and vinegar). Once you learn how to make one you can make a thousand variations by changing your spices and herbs. Bonus: kids love dressing!!!

My favorite dressings are creamy I must confess, and my all-time favorite is an orange ranch where you substitute the juice of an orange and some zest for the typical lemon or vinegar you find in the standard recipe. You can shake your dressings in a jar or container and they will keep in the fridge all week.

½ c mayo

1/3 c sour cream

Tblsp milk or water

S+P and garlic powder (tsp each)

2 tblsp citrus juice (orange and grapefruit are my fav, lemon and lime combo is also superb) OR vinegar (white,champagne,balsamic,apple cider sooooo many options!)

Fresh chopped herbs (pair with your citrus, parsley goes well with lemon and cilantro goes with orange. I like chive and spicy oregano too, those I would pair with a vinegar)

1 teaspoon sugar

2) Smoothies:

Number one the price of smoothies has gotten waaay outta control! Number two they are usually packed with sugar when you get them pre-prepared either at the store or at the juice bar. People say sugar is the silent killer, but I don’t think it’s so silent. I think everyone just doesn’t want to hear it. Well good news people this one is also prepared in about 60-90 seconds depending on what you throw in your blender. Even better news, you can pretty much throw anything in there! Here is my family’s favorite recipe:

Two cups frozen fruit (WF organic fruit medley 2lb. bag)

One can coconut milk  

Bunch of greens (usually spinach or kale)

½ c fruit juice (usually pineapple or pineapple cranberry)

Banana

Any fresh berries on hand or frozen (blueberry, raspberries have seeds and my kids don’t love it)

3) Popcorn:

So apparently eating microwaved popcorn is one of the worst ideas a person ever had. Having a lot to do with the butter topping and electromagnetic exposure, tasty! But popping your own popcorn is so simple your kids could do it and it takes just minutes. You don’t need any special equipment, just a stock pot with a lid. You add your oil (we use vegetable) and your popcorn kernels and cover placing over medium high heat.  Shaking occasionally until you hear it stop popping. Let sit at least 60 seconds before removing top. You can add sooooo many toppings, some of our family favorites:

-Melted chocolate with sea salt

-butter salt and sugar

-salt pepper and white vinegar

-salt and parmesan cheese (not shake on, grated from a block)

I would love to hear what you try!!

4) Cheese sauce:

Who’s kids don’t looooove Mac n’ Cheese?! My kids request it daily. What if I told you, you could make it from scratch in the same amount of time as the boxed version? I confess I use the box from time to time. But as my kids get older and my boys are eating enough for grown 200 lb. men I had to start questioning what I was doing. Cooking 4 boxes of mac n cheese for one meal seemed excessive, even for me! Once you learn this sauce you can use it to make so many wonderful things! Chicken broccoli alfredo, vegetables with cheese sauce like loaded baked potato, baked mac n cheese, pretzels with cheese dip! I just love cheese 😊

 2 tblsp butter

2 tblsp flour

Seasoning (S+P, dry mustard, about ½ tblsp each)

1-1   ½ c milk or half n half

1-2   1 cup grated cheese (cheddar, gruyere,parmesan,any kind you like!)

Melt butter over medium heat, add flour and whisk about 60 seconds. Add milk and seasoning continue whisking, bring up heat a bit. Whisk until thickened, about 2-3 min. remove from heat and add cheese.

5)  Bread Crumbs:

How many times have you thrown away stale bread? The best meatloaf’s, meatballs, and breadcrumbs come from these leftovers that normally would be tossed. All you have to do is keep a brown bag in your kitchen drawer and throw your unused bread pieces into it. When you need bread crumbs simply pulse for 15-20 seconds in a food processor. You can mix with herbs and spices to flavor your crumbs. My favorite is S+P, garlic powder, parsley and lemon zest. For meatloaf or meatball soak bread in milk until you can crush with your fingers, add to your mixture for the moistest results.

 6) Croutons:

If you catch your bread before it’s gone dry but not quite fresh it is perfect for croutons!!! Just cube and toss with Olive Oil and seasoning (I use S+P, garlic powder, parsley and shake on Parmesan cheese) and cook in 375 preheated oven for about 8-10 min. until golden, tossing occasionally.

7)      Whipped cream:

Whipped cream is ONE ingredient, heavy cream. You need a bowl and a whisk and the cream needs to be cold. You whip until fluffy. My kids love love love to make whipped cream. I add a tsp. of sugar and dash of vanilla when I want sweet cream.

8)      Fruit syrup:

I give my kids plain milk and almond milk but sometimes I make flavored milk and above and beyond their favorite is strawberry. Once you have learned to make strawberry syrup you can add it to milk, serve over yogurt or ice cream, make a milkshake or use it to sweeten a smoothie or bowl of oatmeal. Just like all the rest it could not be easier!!

1 carton strawberries, greens removed (can substitute any fruit, larger fruits need to be chopped)

½-1 c sugar (I find one cup to be way too sweet but if you are just lessening your intake you may need to start there and then cut back)

1 cup H2O

Optional:

Zest of citrus (I always use Orange, it is just my favorite 😊)

Put in sauce pot over medium/low heat and bring to a simmer. Let simmer until it reduces and becomes syrupy, about 8 min. for strawberries, longer for larger fruits.

My family’s favorite syrups:

Figs (cut in ½), orange (you use peel, talk about multipurpose!), peach (skin off, sliced) and blueberry (I pass thru sieve)

9) Salsa:

I love salsa!! It is so good with well just about everything! I am not talking about that soupy stuff from a jar. I am talking about cilantro bursts and bright refreshing lime followed by heat from the jalapeno on the back of your tongue. I am talking guacamole for daysssss. It is just a handful of ingredients thrown into the food processor and pulse. Once you have the basics you can go nuts changing out the ingredients always having a super FRESH, RAW topping on hand.

             Two tomatoes, rough chop

             Spicy pepper like jalapeno, rough chop

             Cilantro bunch

             Juice of one lime

             S+P and garlic powder

             *MMH: Taste your spicy pepper before adding to the mix to gauge heat level. Much like women peppers level of spice can vary greatly from one to another even though they look exactly alike on the outside😊

10)   Memories!!!

The most important part of all of this is your relationship with food and your family’s relationship with food. When I stop to take the 10 minutes to prepare these items listed my kids inevitably end up at my feet and a memory is imprinted.

My hope is that just one person tries something new because of this post!  

XOXOXO

MK

[acre-of-wheat]

Summer Blue Chp. 10

Clarke makes it all the way to the kitchen, throws open the pantry door and pulls the chain light before she remembers she can’t cook. Something about taking care of Lexa, the domesticity of it all, had fooled her into thinking she somehow newly possessed this skill by virtue of genre construction.

Clarke walks into the pantry and closes the door behind her, alone with the boxes of mashed potato flakes, canned corn, and the still swinging light chain. She fights the urge to sit on the floor, curl up, and turn off her brain. Perhaps it was the lack of sleep or the early hour or the strangeness of the circumstance, but it felt like at some point in the night she and Lexa had slipped into a sideways space where nothing existed apart from them and the house. It wasn’t an unwelcome sensation, not entirely, but the intimacy of it frightens Clarke-- like this morning was one for telling secrets, whether you wanted to or not. Like staying up together as the sun rose was some kind of pact magic that existed in humans since there had been a sun to rise and Lexa’s place in her heart was going to be cemented there indelibly. As if it hadn’t been the summer of Lexa already for Clarke.

There was simply too much to lose, and Clarke doesn’t feel strong enough to brave another loss.

Clarke comes to herself, realizing that she’s been locking eyes with the Quaker Oats man the entire time. She grabs the oatmeal off the shelf, takes a deep breath, and opens the pantry door, emerging out into the kitchen where golden sunlight bisects the room-- half in brilliant warmth, the other in cool shadow.

It takes a moment for her to find where the pots are stored, the kitchen is so rarely used. After a scuffle with an overstacked cabinet and a moment to peel off the price tag, Clarke stands in the middle of the kitchen, pot held in one hand as she studies the directions on the oatmeal with a frown, deciding to eyeball the measurements rather than try to find wherever the measuring spoons and cups had ended up.

The next few minutes are taken up with the minutia of boiling water, of finding sugar and pouring milk, of rinsing blueberries and shaking up orange juice jugs. Birds sing outside the window. The normalcy of it is comforting to Clarke, and she tries to focus on nothing but the task at hand, doing her best to shake off the meditative moments where Lexa’s face comes to her mind and she finds herself staring into the middle distance.

Even with her attempted full attention, the oatmeal clumps and singes at the bottom, and Clarke does her best to hide the inconsistencies with copious amounts of sugar and berries. She clears a bowl of fake lemons off a decorative tray and replaces it with two steaming bowls of oatmeal, two spoons, two glasses of orange juice, and two green cloth napkins that Clarke folds and refolds, fussing with the placement of them so much that Clarke actually begins to lose respect for herself.

Clarke takes a deep breath, pushes her hair out of her face, and picks up the tray, padding softly back into the living room, walking carefully to avoid spilling any juice. She looks up to see Lexa, still on the couch, the sunlight accentuating every cut and bruise. Clarke could paint every shade of purple and blue she sees there, every rusting red that spiders across her skin, but she wishes she couldn’t, wishes the only sketches she could draw of Lexa were ones where she was whole. Clarke sighs, and it’s a sigh of mingled sadness and affection.

Lexa attempts to sit up as Clarke comes forward to set the tray on the coffee table. Clarke frowns at Lexa’s grimace of pain at the movement.

“Lie back down, Lexa,” Clarke commands.

Lexa shakes her head, “I’ll have to sit up eventually, Clarke.”

Clarke sighs again as Lexa continues to struggle, finally settling on placing the pillow from her floor-bed behind Lexa with a disapproving look.

“Thank you, Clarke,” Lexa says, and her eyes are only a little glassy from pain, “There is room now, if you would like to sit?”

Clarke nods, taking a seat by Lexa’s socked feet. Lexa’s socks are gray, with red toes and heels, and Clarke is too fond of her. She hands Lexa a bowl of oatmeal, and slides her orange juice closer to her on the table.

“Thank you for breakfast, Clarke,” Lexa says, stirring the oatmeal slowly, “I don’t know how to thank you. For everything you’ve done.”

Clarke shakes her head, remembering how she’d frozen the night before, how she’d been so frightened of losing Lexa she’d been unable to help the way she wanted to.

“I wish I could have done more,” is what she ends up saying.

Lexa smiles, split-lipped and soft, “I already owe you a great deal, Clarke. I don’t know that I could afford more.”

They eat in silence for a time, Lexa taking measured bites and methodically chewing, Clarke doing her best not to wolf her food down immediately. As the food runs out, the words build up, and Clarke begins to dig her toes into the carpet.

“So,” Clarke says, elongating the ‘o’ as she pushes the last clump of oatmeal around the bottom of her bowl.

“So,” Lexa replies, placing her own bowl on the table and folding her hands like she’s in a boardroom, sets her shoulders like a general.

“I was in a fight last night,” she says.

“Yes,” Clarke nods, eyes running over Lexa’s various injuries,“I put that much together.”

“Nia and her group are--” Lexa seems to grasp for the right words, “They--she--objects to my sexuality.”

“So she’s an asshole.”

“Yes. Also I dated her sister.”

“Oh,” Clarke says, eyebrows raising as she looks away from Lexa and down at her empty bowl, “Are you and her sister still close?”

Lexa takes a long time to reply, “No. We’re no longer close.”

Clarke glances back at Lexa, who is staring out at nothing, mess of hair and tousled braids obscuring her expression.

“There’s more you’re not telling me.”

“Yes,” Lexa says, but offers nothing else.

“Okay,” Clarke says, “I guess that has to be good enough.”

Lexa nods once.

“For now,” Clarke amends.

Lexa’s shoulders fall, but she nods again.

Clarke collects their bowls, stacks them on the tray and takes them back out to the kitchen. The sun has fully entered the room now and with the unforgiving light Clarke realizes how tired she is. She’d like nothing more than to turn back the sun, pad back into the living room, and collapse onto the couch with Lexa.

When she does come back to the living room, Lexa is sitting up on the couch, a look of horror on her face.

“Lexa?” Clarke asks, moving to her quickly and kneeling next to her, “What’s wrong?”

“Clarke,” Lexa says, and her eyes are downcast, “I have something to confess.”

Clarke frowns, puts her hand on Lexa’s knee.

“I think I got blood on your white couch,” Lexa says, pulling her tangled blanket to the side to reveal the smudges of dried brown blood from the many cuts and scrapes they'd been heedless of the night before in their haste to set Lexa's arm.

“Oh, shit,” Clarke says, thinking of Abby and the interior decorator she’d hired to do this room.

“Yes. Shit,” Lexa grimaces.

“Well,” Clarke says, chewing at her lip, “I guess we have to flee the scene.”

It takes time for Clarke to search through Abby’s bag to find her keys, and longer to painstakingly get Lexa to the garage, her arm thrown around Clarke’s neck as they move as slow as possible, partly for silence and partly for Lexa’s bruised ribs.

The car is new, and starts with a barely audible purr, but opening the garage door sounds like a landslide. Clarke reverses slowly, switching off the automatic headlights so not even a stray beam can make its way across Abby’s upstairs window and alert her to their escape.

Once she turns onto the twisting lake road it’s smooth sailing-- the road is deserted this early in the morning and well paved this close to the water and the complaints of the rich who abhor potholes. The silence Clarke had wrapped them in to secure their escape becomes nerve-wracking-- the only sounds the smooth whir of wheel over still wet road and the gentle huff of the air conditioning. Clarke turns on the CD player with a quick jab, and her mother’s Coldplay CD starts to play. It’s corny, Clarke thinks, glancing over at Lexa to gauge her reaction, but not too embarrassing.

Lexa has her elbow up on the window, chin in her hand as she looks out, a surprisingly relaxed gesture that feels at odds with the bruises and cuts that are still fresh on her face. Lexa looks so at ease that Clarke decides not to disturb her for directions, and instead points her internal compass towards the center of town, driving only a little over the speed limit to savor the morning.

As they leave the tree dappled lake roads and begin to pass the far less grand homes of town locals Lexa slowly loses her ease. By the time they’ve reached the roundabout at the center of town, war monument to victory winged high, Lexa’s hands are laced tight in her lap, the set of her shoulders a visible few inches higher. Clarke stops at the entrance to the deserted roundabout and looks to Lexa, at a loss for their route finally.

Lexa nods forward, “Straight on, Clarke.”

Clarke finds herself driving slower and slower, weaving carefully to avoid the several stretches of rough road, inching to a near crawl as they cross the train tracks that bisect the town. Clarke has never seen a train on these tracks.

Here is the part of town where the business’s change every summer Clarke is here, where no one can seem to sustain a dream or a storefront. They pass by the giant empty parking lot of a failed grocery store, a place where seagulls inexplicably congregate, and by a strip of fast food restaurants-- the only places that have had a face lift in the past several years, and only to keep up with the marketing campaigns that must be kept uniform through every state.

Clarke glances over at Lexa, and there is something wistful in her look, like she’s also taking in the enormity of a town that only ever seems to grow more faded and cracked every year.

“Turn here, Clarke,” Lexa instructs, and Clarke does, turning down a tree lined street with a number of old and once beautiful houses that are showing their age. At the corner is a church, white paint peeling, message board advertising a surprising number of services throughout the week, and an unelaborated on verse: Proverbs 6:16-19.

“Just down this street. On the right,” Lexa supplies.

Clarke drives forward and turns into a parking lot so cracked to pieces that dandelions are growing between the asphalt. Several cars are also parked, none of them new, and all of them with some unique car ailment-- a duct taped on exhaust pipe, missing hubcaps, a door of a completely different color. The apartment complex they sit in front of seems similarly dilapidated-- a grungy beige that was popular two decades ago, a roof that’s missing shingling, and rusted out balcony fencing. Clarke parks and turns off the engine, turning to Lexa.

Lexa doesn’t look at her, and there is color to her normally pale cheeks. Clarke is suddenly aware that what she had mistook for anxiety in Lexa may well have been something else.

“Lexa?”

Lexa picks at a blood stain at the hem of her shirt, eyes trained downward, “I may need your help getting up the stairs Clarke, but I will be fine from there. Thank you for the ride. It was kind of you.”

Clarke frowns, and shakes her head, taking one of Lexa’s too busy hands in her own.

“Quit it,” she says, and Lexa looks up to meet her eyes, “You’re being real fucking weird right now.”

Lexa smiles, which surprises both of them, and nods.

“Okay,” Clarke says, squeezing Lexa’s hand one last time before opening the car door. She goes over to Lexa’s side and helps her out, looping an arm around Lexa’s waist to support her. They hobble to the stairs and make their way up, Clarke insisting on several breathers when she sees that Lexa is gritting her teeth. When they finally make it up to the second floor, Lexa leads them to the third door down. The numbering announces that it is the 2nd apartment, but the faded imprint and screw holes of a lost number hint that it is in fact the 12th. There is an outdoor lamp that Lexa carefully unscrews the glass from, fishing out a hide-a-key and spending a moment struggling with a sticky lock, before finally pushing the door open.

It’s dim inside, the blinds all pulled closed, and it takes Clarke’s eyes a moment to adjust. The inside of the apartment is like stepping into a sepia photograph-- everything seems to have that faded out brown look to it. There is wafer thin brown carpet, a brown and tan patterned couch, and more wood panelling than Clarke had thought still existed, including an ancient wood panelled TV. Clarke can hear the refrigerator humming.

“Is there anyone else here to help you?” Clarke asks.

Lexa unwinds herself from Clarke’s hold on her, limping towards the couch. She sits on the arm of it and begins to laboriously unlace her shoes. Clarke starts forward to offer to do it for her, but stops herself.

“My sister will not be back from her haul until tomorrow evening, but I will be fine until then, Clarke.”

“Can I get you anything? Some water?”

For a moment Lexa looks as though she might refuse her, and then she winces, “Water would be welcome.”

Clarke opens several bare cupboards before she finds where the glasses are kept, grabs an orange plastic one and fills it at the sink. By the time she returns with it Lexa has managed to get one boot off and seems to be taking a break to steel herself before the next one.

“Here you go,” Clarke says, passing the glass over.

“Thank you, Clarke,” Lexa says, and the words make her sound tired. “And thank you for bringing me up. I really will be alright now.”

“I know,” Clarke says, staring at her, “Can I stay anyway?”

The side of Lexa’s mouth quirks up in a sad smile, and in this dim house she looks broken down and at home.

“Of course,” Lexa says.

Clarke matches her half smile. She feels adrift in this house, not sure what to touch or where to sit, but she knows she doesn’t want to leave.

“I think I should get out of these clothes,” Lexa says, pulling at a tear in her dark jeans, which brings to attention her dirt and blood rimmed fingers, “and perhaps take a shower.”

“Okay,” Clarke says, feeling her face color, “can I-- should I help with that?”

“I will manage, Clarke,” Lexa says, smiling at Clarke’s stutter.

Lexa begins an uneven, one-booted walk down a dim hallway, opening a door on the left, and turning back to Clarke for a moment before she disappears inside, “Make yourself at home, Clarke.”

Clarke nods and gives a stilted wave at Lexa’s disappearing form, biting her lip at the bizarrity of her own behaviour. Left alone in the house, Clarke isn’t quite sure what to do with herself, deciding to take a slow loop through the living room, fingers running along the wood panelling, catching at the seams. Behind the couch is a shelf with a few photos and tchotchkes that arrests her attention.

One photo is of a shockingly young Lexa, face dour even in childhood and pink barrettes, seated next to a teenager who shares the same sharp cheekbones, piercing eyes, and scowl. Clarke guesses this must be Anya in her youth-- the half-sister she’s heard only a little about and who seems to be away more often than not. Another photo is of a woman, perhaps a little older than Clarke is now, wearing elaborate braids and a fond smile as she looks down at a baby in her arms. There is not much beyond the similarity of her braids to Lexa’s that would suggest her identity, but Clarke makes an assumption anyway. There is an American flag folded into a triangle that Clarke tentatively traces the edge of a star on, wondering who Lexa had cared for that fell. The rest of the knick knacks Clarke can’t parse the meaning of-- a small silver bell, a drawing of a startled looking rabbit, a snow globe of Chicago with no water inside, all coated in a layer of dust.

Clarke is momentarily startled by the groaning sound of pipes and the sound of spraying water, an indication that Lexa had at least managed to get the shower going. There is nothing else on the walls of the living room to hold her attention, so Clarke’s gaze drifts downwards to a crate shoved underneath the coffee table. Refusing to listen to the part of her that suggests she might officially be snooping, Clarke gingerly pulls the box free and finds that it’s full of a old records, the sleeves showing the signs of being well-loved rather than meticulously collected. She flips through them-- Singin’ In the Rain, Judy In Love, Breakfast at Tiffany’s, A Couple of Song and Dance Men-- faces Clarke vaguely remembers from old movies, songs that have been covered a dozen times since these recordings. She pulls out an old copy of Oklahoma! and smiles at the brilliant orange sky over the two lovebirds giving sappy smiles, about to burst into song. She glances around the room for a record player, but there’s nothing in the living room. Still clutching the record, Clarke wanders down the hallway Lexa had disappeared down. Clarke can hear the sound of the shower through the door on her left, and she briefly places her ear against the wood, listening for she doesn’t know what before she hurries along, pushing open another door on the right to escape.

Clarke can tell immediately that this is Lexa’s room. The bed has been made with clinical precision, a frayed knit blanket folded at the end, and there is a row of plants sitting in the windowsill, all looking obnoxiously healthy and full. Aside from the bed, there is only one other piece of furniture; a desk with faux wood covering that peels at the corners, stacked carefully with books. Clarke shifts them slightly to read the titles and grimaces-- Problem Solving in Chemical Engineering with Numerical Methods, Fluid Mechanics, Heat Transfer, and Mass transfer. Three pencils are laid out in a straight line and a protractor sits at the exact same angle. Impulsively, Clarke grabs a sticky note from a well-organized supply box that also contains silver paperclips and plain thumbtacks. She slaps it on the desk next to the pencils, scrawls “super weird” and draws an arrow to the now slightly askew pencils.

Clarke wanders the room, record and sticky notes still in hand, and she finds herself writing questions and sticking them around the room. “What are these” she writes next to the plants and sticks it on the window. “Why engineering” she writes a note on top of Lexa’s books. Clarke opens Lexa’s closet to find rows of plaid button downs and just two pairs of pants. “Which is your favorite shirt,” she writes and puts it on the closet door handle. “Who made this,” is stuck to the fraying yarn of the knit blanket. As time passes Clarke writes more open-ended questions, sticking them on the walls at arbitrary points-- “who was the flag for” “what color is Anya’s truck” “when will you tell me your middle name” “do you think the fish you caught were frightened” “should we get a posse together and kick Nia’s ass.”

Clarke almost misses the sound of the the shower turning off, only stopping her scribbling when she hears shuffling steps down the hallway. She drops the sticky notes back on Lexa’s desk, returns the pen she’d been using back to its holder, just as the door opens and Lexa walks in.

It becomes quickly apparent that neither of them had thought through this part-- where Clarke would stand or where she should look or if she should say anything when Lexa walks into the room soaking wet, hair clinging damply to bruised collarbones, and wrapped only in a rough gray towel. Their eyes meet for a moment before Lexa blushes-- a coloring that Clarke can see goes all the way down her neck and chest-- and looks away.

“Sorry. I’ll go,” Clarke says, taking a step towards the door, towards Lexa. Water is puddling on the carpet at Lexa’s feet, running down her bare legs.

“It’s okay. Just have a seat,” Lexa says, backing up and gesturing in the direction of the desk chair. “You can,” Lexa clears her throat, “face the other way.”

“Oh,” Clarke says, “sure.”

Lexa opens the closet door, using it as an obscuring screen as Clarke flips the chair around, facing towards the window, eyes locked on the sky outside. She hears the sound of plastic hangers rattling and fabric rustling.

“I see you found the records,” Lexa says from behind the door.

Clarke reflexively squeezes the record in her hand, raising it to her chest, feeling as naked as Lexa in the moment.

“No record player though,” Clarke replies, her voice raspy to her own ears.

“We had to sell it,” Lexa says, “But I refused to let Anya take the records. No one would buy them anyway.”

Clarke looks down at the record in her hands-- those cheerful smiles, that brilliant sunset--wondering how long it had been since Lexa had listened to it.

“I wouldn’t have guessed you were a fan of musicals.”

“They belonged to my mother,” Lexa says, and Clarke can feel her walking up behind her, turns to look back up at her. Lexa’s hair is still tousled and wet, hanging loosely over her shoulders and a black and blue flannel. Faded block letters that read “Tri-State” ran down the legs of her worn gray sweatpants. Lexa looks pale and scrubbed clean. The blood and grime is gone, and what’s left is the fine lines of repair, like shattered ceramic carefully glued back together. “She loved old movies, old musicals. When I was small we would spend all night watching them. She knew every word to every song. She was not as talented at the dance numbers.”

Lexa’s eyes are fixed on the record as she speaks and Clarke can see in them that depth of resigned sadness she’s seen there before, like loss was a home you could grow used to rather than one you ran away from.

For a moment Clarke is tempted to ask more, but thinks better of it. Whatever had happened, Lexa’s mother wasn’t here now, and the sadness on Lexa’s face was explanation enough.

“I’m sorry,” Clarke says, holding out the record.

Lexa shakes her head slightly, the corner of her mouth going up in an attempt at a smile.

“It’s alright, Clarke,” she says as she takes the record, placing it carefully on the desk, “It was a long time ago.”

Clarke can’t help but think of her father, can’t help but wonder if in a year, five years, ten, she will still have that same broken down, rusty catch in her voice that Lexa has when she speaks of her mother. Clarke wonders if she’ll also insist that the pain is too long ago to matter, even as she handles pieces of her father so gingerly, like they might cut her open if mishandled. Her heart aches for herself, and for Lexa.

“It’s this one,” Lexa says, turning back to Clarke and holding out the post-it note from the closet, “my favorite shirt.”

Clarke laughs and it catches in her throat, twists around the tears there. She reaches out to Lexa, grabbing a fistful of her shirt, soft and faded to the touch and heated from Lexa’s still water warm skin. Clarke feels Lexa’s hands in her hair, and tugs her forward so she can bury her face against Lexa’s middle, inhales the smell of fabric softener and that uniquely green smell that belongs just to Lexa. She feels Lexa’s fingers continue to twist through her hair, feels Lexa bend to hold her, feels the soft kiss Lexa leaves on top of her head.

“I’m sorry,” Clarke says around the tears, face buried in Lexa’s shirt.

“I’m not,” Lexa says, and Clarke both hears and feels her voice, so close are they together. “It’s not wrong to be in pain, Clarke.”

Clarke continues to clutch at Lexa, taking comfort in the steady feel of her body around her, the way Lexa’s careful fingers run through her hair, grazing her neck.

“I’m so tired,” Clarke says.

“I know,” Lexa replies, “I am too.”

Clarke looks up and meets Lexa’s eyes, green and weary and soft for her.

“Can I stay?” She asks.

Lexa nods, and holds out a hand for Clarke to take. Clarke reaches for her, and Lexa locks their fingers together, pulls Clarke to the bed. She folds Clarke underneath blankets and close to herself, and Clarke nestles into her arms, careful against Lexa’s ribs. Lexa’s bed smells overwhelmingly of her, and Clarke clothes her eyes, breathes it in and is comforted. When she opens her eyes again she finds Lexa still looking at her with the same warmth, the same care. Clarke traces a line across Lexa’s sharp cheekbones, dancing over the scrapes there. Lexa’s fingers find their way back to Clarke’s hair, stroking it away from her temple and, instinctively, Clarke turns to kiss Lexa’s wrist.

“Clarke,” Lexa sighs, and Clarke watches her cheeks and neck color again.

Clarke loves the sound of her name in Lexa’s voice, loves the way Lexa seems to melt under her lips even more. Clarke is exhausted, and so tired of being sad. More than anything she just wants to sink into the sound of Lexa saying her name.

“This is a really strange summer for me,” Clarke says, “but I’m glad you’re in it.”

Lexa smiles, still looking a little shaken, “Well, this is all fairly standard for me.”

Clarke traces the smile with her fingertips, her touch lingering at the corner of Lexa’s mouth.

“I liked kissing you the other night,” Clarke says.

“I enjoyed it too, Clarke.”

“So you wouldn’t mind if I tried it again?”

“No,” Lexa says, and her voice is lower, her eyes darker.

Clarke closes the distance between them, presses her lips to Lexa’s jaw, to her neck, to the place just below her ear.

“Clarke,” Lexa says again, her voice nearing a whine.

Clarke grins, biting her lip, “You don’t like building anticipation?”

Lexa’s fingers twist in Clarke’s hair, dragging Clarke towards her so that Lexa’s lips finally meet her own. Lexa’s lip is split and Clarke knows it must hurt, but Lexa doesn’t seem to care, kissing Clarke harder until Clarke opens her mouth and feels Lexa’s tongue against hers. Clarke’s hands start to slide down Lexa’s side, forgetting to be careful against the bruises and cuts along her skin, digging her fingers into Lexa’s hips. One of Lexa’s hands traces down Clarke’s neck, brushes across her collarbone, and Clarke’s skin shocks at the touch.

Clarke is so wrapped up in the feeling of Lexa against her, the taste of her mouth, and the smell of her skin, that she only dimly registers the sound of a door clicking open, or the sound of stomping feet. It’s only when Lexa draws back and cocks her head at the door that Clarke’s senses are able to register anything other than Lexa.

“Lexa?” a sharp voice calls from somewhere in the apartment, sounding rough and familiar.

Lexa’s eyebrows shoot upward and Clarke would have been tempted to laugh at her expression if she wasn’t in such a compromising position.

“Anya’s home early,” Lexa says, her face still flush, “Would you like to meet my sister?”

[minhele]

grab your brooms(cause it’s a mess)| pt 1.

mermaid!AU pairing: taehyung x reader word count: 2,424 prompt: taehyung keeps getting attacked by the ocean and he’s literally going to lose his mind if one more seagull shits on him. 

note: if you get the title, i’m sorry. anyways, i really love mermaids and i just think they’re really great, and there aren’t enough mermaid fics?  i also love marine life and the beach, so this just kinda popped out. also omfg this edit is beautiful kick me

Taehyung sat on the edge of the pier, admiring the beautiful colors of the sunset fading into the ground. He sighed deeply, taking a long sip from his beer. The sound of the waves crashing upon the shore was like a soft ballad, making Taehyung almost forget how shitty his day was. 

“Hey stranger.” A new voice said from behind him. 

Taehyung turned around, a small grin overtaking his features as he saw Jimin approaching him. The black-haired male took a seat next to him, helping himself to one of Taehyung’s beers. 

Jimin popped open his can, and drank from it, letting out a loud belch after finishing. “Alcohol is so much better when someone else buys it.” He paused and took another sip. “Anyways, what’s got you down TaeTae?” 

Taehyung groaned, childishly laying his head in Jimin’s lap. “My parents cut me off. Apparently, I have to make it out there on my own without any help. Some kid dropped his ice cream on my Gucci loafers, and I got a ticket. Life just sucks.” 

Jimin snickered softly but stopped when Taehyung gave him a look. “Sorry. So, you really can’t leech off your parents anymore? What are you going to do about your apartment?” 

“I have to move into the dorms… and get a roommate.” Taehyung said, shuddering.  

Jimin patted Taehyung’s forehead lightly. “It’s okay TaeTae, roommates aren’t that bad. I have two and they’re bearable. You’ll fit in just fine. You have me anyways.” 

“Yeah, but what if I get a complete psycho? Can you just be my roommate instead?” Taehyung pleaded, giving him puppy-dog eyes.

“Sorry TaeTae, the RAs are kinda tough on us. If he’s that much of a psycho, just file a complaint.” Jimin said, sipping on his beer. 

“But Jiminie, I’ve never shared a room with anyone else before!” Taehyung whined, crossing his arms.

Jimin snorted, finishing his beer and setting it aside. “You let me crash at your place before.” 

“That’s besides the point.” Taehyung replied, frowning.

Jimin lifted Taehyung off his lap and slung an arm around his friend. “Look TaeTae, you’re going to have to deal with it eventually. There’s no point in changing the inevitable.” He paused, standing up. “Stand up with me. I think you need to relieve your stress.” 

Taehyung stood up, curious as to what Jimin was going to do. Jimin fixed the position of his empty beer can, and took a few steps back. He started running and kicked the can to the far right, the empty can landing on an unsuspecting man sleeping on the beach. 

“Goal!” Jimin shouted, jumping around in circles. “Try it.” 

Taehyung smiled, finishing the rest of his beer and set it down on the pier. He took a running start and punted the can into the ocean, the can bouncing on a rock before landing in the water. He whooped, high-fiving Jimin and cheering loudly. 

“Wow, that’s actually really fu-”

FOOM.

“Ow, what the fuck?” Taehyung cursed, rubbing at his forehead. He looked at the object that had hit him and furrowed his eyebrows. 

It was the fucking beer can. 

Jimin doubled over, body wracked with laughter. He was practically on the ground now, eyes getting watery from laughing so much. “Jesus, did that actually happen?” he managed to choke out, wiping the tears from his eyes. 

Taehyung stomped on the offending beer can angrily and made his way back to his car. “I’m going home.” 

Surprisingly, Taehyung blended into college life quite easily, despite living such a pampered life before his parents cut him off. He only complained about eating cold chicken nuggets 34 times today. His roommate was going for a major in music with a minor in philosophy. The guy was chill, the only downside of him being that he was the fucking definition of clumsiness. But, for the most part, dorm life wasn’t too bad. 

“Hey, Taehyung?” His roommate, Namjoon called.

Taehyung looked up from his work. “Yeah?” 

“There’s gonna be an end of semester bonfire at the beach. Wanna come?” Namjoon said. 

Taehyung’s thoughts trailed back to the one day he was mysteriously hit in the face with his own beer can. He’s a bit skeptic about going to the beach again, but the desire to get totally fucked up was too strong. 

“Will there be weed?” Taehyung asked hopefully.

Namjoon chuckled, his deep voice almost like velvet. “Oh, not just weed. But coke, molly, you name it.” 

Taehyung lit up like a Christmas tree and nodded, with a big grin on his face. “Count me the fuck in.” 

Out of all of the beach bonfires he’s been to, this one was surprisingly well-made. Lanterns and lights decorated the beach, and was bright enough for him to see what he was getting, but dark enough for no bystanders to see the ridiculous amounts of alcohol and drugs stashed on the tables. 

His face lit up when he saw Jimin sitting on one of the benches, talking to a girl with dyed-blonde hair with a red solo cup in hand. He inched towards the girl, leaning into her ear to whisper, “He has syphilis. Don’t take any drinks from him.”

And right on cue, the girl spit into her cup, dropping the drink at Jimin’s feet. 

Jimin reached out for her, desperation latched onto his face. “Jiwoo, wait, he’s just fucking with you, I’m clean, I was tested!” he shouted after her. 

Jimin groaned in frustration, glaring at Taehyung. “What the fuck man, she was about to invite me into her car!” 

Taehyung grinned at him, kissing Jimin on the head and then taking Jiwoo’s spot. “You’re mine.” 

Jimin rolled his eyes and smiled at him, his previous anger dissipating. “How you liking dorm life?”

“Not as bad as I thought it’d be. It’s pretty fun, and Namjoon is like the coolest person I know.” Taehyung said. 

Jimin pouted. “I thought I was the coolest person you knew.” 

Taehyung patted Jimin’s cheeks. “Sorry Jiminie, that spot has been taken by Namjoon. If it helps, you’re the cutest person I know.” 

Jimin shrugged. “That’s fair. Have you gotten anything to drink yet?” 

“Nope.” Taehyung answered, popping the ‘p’. 

“What the hell are you doing here? Go get fucked up!” 

It’s only been an hour, but Taehyung feels pretty fucked up. His brain feels fuzzy and his vision is kinda hazy. He’s starting to have some pretty important questions. Like, why did hot dogs have to be frozen? They’re hot dogs. Where does the word go when he erases it? Why did he have to keep drinking 8 glasses of water a day when his body was already 60% water? Why were blueberries blue on the outside but green when their skin was peeled off? Namjoon probably knows the answers to these things so he’ll ask Namjoon when he’s sober. Taehyung needs to pee. Oh, how convenient, the ocean is right there. Taehyung unbuckles his belt and pulls down his zipper, not caring if anyone sees his dick, because holy fucking shit he needs to pee. Taehyung pisses into the ocean, and right now, emptying his bladder feels more orgasmic than any drug. A flash of orange catches his eye. Wow, what a big fish. Is that… skin? Are those boobs? Taehyung is sure he’s fucking higher than a kite, because there is no way that he’s seeing a mermaid. The mermaid seems to notice him now, and her eyes widen in panic and she swims away, the force of her tail, sending waves crashing into him. Taehyung is now drenched from head to toe, and he doesn’t know if the salty taste in his mouth is from the ocean or his own urine.

A few weeks have passed since the incident, and Taehyung has brushed it off as just a hallucination. But weird things keep happening whenever he goes to the beach. The water manages to drench him, but not his friends walking just beside him. While he naps, hermit crabs come and pinch the living fuck out of him. Seagulls target him and shit on him and basically everything he owns. He’s starting to think that the ocean has something against him. Which is impossible, because how could anyone hate him? He’s perfect. So Taehyung decides he’s had enough of this. Everything that had happened to him occurred during the evening, so he decides to conduct a little experiment. He chooses to visit the beach at various times, the early morning, the afternoon, and the evening. He starts the first trial at 7AM. There were a few people on the beach jogging, but otherwise, it was peaceful. So far, the ocean hasn’t attacked him, little crabs weren’t pinching him, and birds weren’t crapping on him. Taehyung rules it as a success. After waiting a few hours, he returns to the beach. A lot of people are there now, doing random activities. Birds are still not crapping on him, crabs aren’t pinching him, and the waves are soft and gentle. Taehyung rules this as another success. For the last trial, Taehyung decides to wait until 9PM to commence his experiment. Once everyone is cleared from the beach, Taehyung prepares an umbrella, a flashlight, and rain boots. He knows he probably looks like a fucking idiot, but he really doesn’t want to feel the wrath of a million angry crabs. Once he steps foot onto the beach, Taehyung almost screams because all the crabs are coming towards him with their pinchers and the birds are flying at him like tiny, angry airplanes, and right now the ocean looks really fucking scary, but wait… that orange tail looks familiar. Taehyung shines his flashlight on the orange tail, and he drops his flashlight in shock. The crabs and the birds stop rushing at him and carry on with their business, as if they weren’t just about to kill him. The waves remain aggressive however, and the woman with the orange tail is swimming away as fast as she can. Taehyung hasn’t really planned for this part of the experiment, but he’s kicking off his boots, and stripping down to his boxers, because that is a mermaid, and he is not going to let her get away. And with that, Taehyung blindly dives into the ocean, following the mysterious mermaid, who may have been the cause of all these strange occurrences. 

Taehyung wakes up in a cave with a hoarse throat and he coughs repeatedly, trying to relieve the pain. A shell is pressed to his lips on and he realizes that he's drinking fresh water. He gulped it down aggressively, letting out a big sigh of relief as his throat goes back to normal.

 "I can't believe you actually followed me." A voice behind him grumbles. 

Taehyung turns around and sees the mermaid in all her naked glory. He catches her staring disapprovingly at him, and he looks away, murmuring a quiet “sorry.” An awkward silence falls over them and he looks at her again. 

“Ah, thanks for saving me. How long have I been out for?” He asked. 

“13 years.” You answered, with a serious expression. 

Taehyung blanches and he tries to find a reflective surface, before you start cackling. 

“No, I’m just kidding, 3 days max.”  She said, laughing.

Taehyung feels at his face before relaxing and letting out a sigh of relief. “You’re a mermaid.” 

She scoffs, rolling her (e/c) eyes. “No duh.” 

“I mean, you guys... really exist?” He asked, dumbfounded. 

“Yeah.” She answered curtly. 

Taehyung can’t stop staring at her and is having trouble formulating sentences that make sense because, wow, she’s stunning, and how does her hair look so nice and soft when she’s probably stayed underwater for her whole life, and holy fuck, mermaids are real. 

“Okay, no offense, but will you close your mouth? You look like a brain-dead fish.” She stated snarkily. 

Taehyung complies, and looks down in shame. He looks up again and is kinda scared to talk to her. “Why did you save me? To be honest, it kinda seems like you hate my guts.”

“I’m not evil. I wouldn’t just let you die like that. But I probably should have, since you’re probably going to go back and tell everyone about my existence.” She replied. 

Nah, Taehyung thinks. He wants to keep her all to himself. “What makes you think people will believe me? In a world filled with technology, no one’s going to actually believe me unless I have evidence.”

“I should probably not trust you, but you seem too dumb to have an ulterior motive.” She retorted. 

Taehyung put a hand over his heart, faking hurt. “Ah, harsh.”  

She smirked at him. “Only to people who litter.” 

“Wait... were you the one who splashed me with water and sent birds and crabs after me?” He questioned, furrowing his eyebrows. 

“Yep.” She said, proudly popping the ‘p’. 

“But when did I litter?” He asked. 

“You kicked that can into the ocean. You don’t know how many animals could have choked on that. A little after that, I saw you toss your plastic wrapper into the sea. Animals can get strangled by that, and it is such a hassle to remove it.    You also peed into the ocean that one time, and let me tell you, that is downright disgusting. You’re a really handsome guy, but it’s a shame that you have no regards for the animals in the ocean and the quality of the water.” She ranted, taking a deep breath afterwards. 

Taehyung whistled lowly. “Well, gee, never thought about it like that.” He answered. 

The mermaid sighed, crossing her arms. “Since I’m feeling generous, I’ll offer you a proposition. I’ve really wanted to come back to land, but it’s been a really long time, so I wouldn’t know how to act or dress. I heard you whining about money that one day, so I want you to come back here occasionally and teach me about what’s been happening. I also need you to bring me appropriate clothing so that no one suspects that I’m a mermaid. If you do this, I will call off all the animals and I will also stop splashing you everytime you come to the beach.”

Taehyung smirked. “So you need me to be your sugar daddy?” 

“What’s that?” She asked, blinking innocently. 

“Nothing, my sweet summer child...” He said, pausing to pat her on the head. “Count me in. You’re about to become the most educated and well-dressed mermaid in the history of mermaids!” 

“Don’t touch me.”

note: this was supposed to be a one-shot, but i suck. this is kinda trashy, and i don’t really like it, but i hope it wasn’t complete garbage for you guys. if you have the time please leave a comment about what you liked and didn’t like about it! thanks for reading! have a good day/night~

[artsoccupychi]

9 Ways to Get Kids to Drink Healthy Green Smoothies

If you’re in the habit of drinking a green smoothie every day, you already know how healthy and delicious it is.

You probably even reap some of the benefits, including more energy, weight loss, better digestion, skin tone improving, and fewer cravings for sweets and processed foods. (My survey of 175 new green smoothie drinkers yielded these top 5 answers, published in The Green Smoothies Diet [2009]).

Of course, it’d be even better if you could get your family on the bandwagon – and if you’re like hundreds of parents who have asked me over the years, you may be wondering how to get kids to drink healthy green smoothies.

The nice thing about getting more nutrient density in a child’s diet, in the form of a pint of green smoothie a day (which is 7+ servings of raw greens, superfoods, and fruit), is that he or she is less likely to beg you for candy and treats, especially as an after-school smoothie becomes a habit.

In this article:

Start with something your kids already love.

Be smart about how you serve it.

Include your kids in the selection and preparation process.

Teach them to whip it and shake it!

Work with your kids — not against them.

Pull back on pressure, but take responsibility.

Make it matter — what’s in it for them?

Set a good example?

Challenge each other.

The epic battle between kids and parents who want them to eat their veggies is a common one, but including greens as part of a healthy diet is crucial for children’s development, as well as reducing the risk of chronic disease and helping maintain a healthy body weight.1

The US Department of Agriculture ChooseMyPlate tool2 recommends that kids fill their half their plates with fruits and vegetables at every meal, aiming for one to two cups of fruits and one to three cups of vegetables each day, depending on a child’s age and sex. Sadly, the Center for Disease Control reports that 60% of kids don’t meet daily recommendations for fruit, and 93% don’t eat enough vegetables.3

And most other government estimates are far lower. The USDA reports that the average American child eats just 1-2 vegetables and fruits daily, with most of those being in the form of ketchup, french fries, and the juice to wash it all down.

These aren’t exactly the best fruits and vegetables. (If I were in charge of classifying foods, I’m not sure that I would call french fries a vegetable.)

What if you could get spinach, kale, chard, sprouts, blueberries, cashews, flaxseed, ginger, and turmeric in your child (just an example of what you could throw in the blender) before she starts her school day, every day? It’s brain food for getting A’s and staying focused and happy!

And what’s even better, it’s not particularly expensive, and it can be achieved in 10 minutes every morning, with a good blender.

As a parent, would you be excited about that?

Green smoothies are the best way to get lots of nutrients in little time.

If you can get your kids on board with green smoothies, you have an easy way to help them get the vitamins, minerals, calcium, fiber, and other nutrients they need.

Luckily, there are plenty of ways to make it happen and make it easier. I’m a veteran green-smoothie mom, having raised four children to adulthood drinking green smoothies daily. I think I’ve pretty much seen it all, and everything I share with you below came from the “school of hard knocks.”

For instance, I learned early in the process NOT to send the daily pint of green smoothie to school in the lunchbox. It’s too easy for them to not drink it, because 5th graders care about little more than not standing out among their peers. Blended spinach isn’t exactly standard in school lunches.

For us, the green smoothie as breakfast or after-school snack worked better, because I was there to supervise it.

What happened when I took my eye off the ball? I once found 11 pints of rotten green smoothies in my younger daughter’s bedroom, in a toy “treasure chest.” Apparently she hadn’t learned to “treasure” nutrition yet. I had been wondering what happened to all my pint jars, which sent me on a treasure hunt that ended in Libby’s closet.

(Happy update: that same girl loves plant-based, whole-foods nutrition nowadays, and is away at college and asking for tips and help on a weekly basis because she’s learned she feels better when she eats greens, vegetables, fruits, legumes, whole grains, and nuts and seeds as the foundation of her diet. Teaching your kids correct principles when it comes to nutrition is something we both model and teach, and the benefits aren’t always immediate.)

Check out some of the tips and tricks I’ve learned through the years for how to get kids to drink healthy green smoothies, and watch your kids start slurping!

MAKE IT FAMILIAR AND FUN

1.    Start with something your kids already love.

To get kids to drink green smoothies painlessly, think of developing this habit as a process, rather than an event. If your kids are new to whole foods, and you’re trying to right the course now that they’re rather addicted to processed foods, start out simply with ingredients they already love.

Make sure some dark-colored berries are involved at first; a “green smoothie” doesn’t actually have to LOOK green (a color that kids may react to negatively, at first) — it just has to have greens in it!

A green smoothie can come out looking purple, orange, pink — any color of the rainbow!

Use flavorful fruits like berries, pineapple, or peaches that have natural sweetness – and use only mild-tasting greens like spinach to start. After your kids love green smoothies, you can sneak in higher amounts of greens and other superfood ingredients like cabbage, sprouts, bee pollen, and ginger.

Here are two yummy green smoothie recipes, with video demos, that are perfect for starting kids out with:

Greena Colada Smoothie

Bumble Berry Pie Smoothie

2.    Be smart about how you serve it.

Getting your child to try a green smoothie can be an uphill battle, but a little creativity goes a long way. Whip up a concoction and give it a fun name you know will entice your child.

If your child can’t get enough of Marvel comics, make a vivid green smoothie and call it “Hulk Juice.” Younger kids might respond well to “Frozen Elsa Elixir” if they’ve watched Frozen 361 times, or “Thomas the Tank Engine Turbo Fuel” if they love talking trains, as my youngest son Tennyson did.

  Make it even more appealing by putting it into a fun “character” cup or a colorful kid-friendly container that belongs to just him or her and can be used only for green smoothies – and you may just get your kids to drink super-healthy goop every day of the week. I know one family who started with shot glasses of green smoothie and worked up from there!

MAKE IT HANDS ON

3.    Include your kids in the selection and preparation process.

Turn your family green smoothie experience into a bonding opportunity, and get your kids in on the fun! In fact, it just might be “training” that you can hand off to the eldest children, as a permanent assigned job, which might be called “Family Sous Chef.”

Decide on what kind of potion or hero-juice you’re going to whip up, and make a list of ingredients together, guiding your kids toward healthy, reasonable options. Then, go on a scavenger hunt together at the grocery store or farmers’ market to pick out the ripest, juiciest, green-smoothiest ingredients you can find.

To get your kids even more invested, plant a green smoothie garden. Talk with your kids about what ingredients they’d like to plant, aiming for easy-to-grow produce like greens and strawberries. You can even purchase miniature citrus trees if they’re suitable for your area.

Gardening is one way to get your kids more interested and invested in what they eat.

Whether you create it in a small plot in the backyard or in a few containers on your patio, your kids will love digging in the dirt, planting the seeds, and watching the garden grow. Of course, you won’t have ingredients immediately, but when your produce is ready for harvest, your kids are bound to be excited about finally tasting all their hard work in a delicious green smoothie.

If they grow it, shop for it, or prepare it, they are far more likely to enjoy drinking it.

4.    Teach them to whip it and shake it!

If your kids are old enough, let them handle any age-appropriate kitchen tasks. Collecting the ice or peeling oranges may be fun for younger kids, while older children might be able to help clean vegetables or juice citrus fruits. Even the little ones are probably able to press the button on the blender under your close supervision.

A kid-friendly, healthy recipe book with easy smoothie recipes is a great way to get them excited about taking the initiative in healthy choices. My Big Book of Green Smoothies features 50 kids’ photos, submitted by my readers, and even a horse, bunny, and dog green smoothie mustache I didn’t ask them for! Let kids see that other kids do it, and love it, and they’ll be more likely to jump in and join you.

MAKE IT EASY

5.    Work with your kids – not against them.

If your child automatically rejects anything that’s green, don’t be afraid to adjust. Maybe it’s time to step back, meet him where he is, and quietly start praising every positive choice (like a full glass, instead of a shot glass, or a smile on his face rather than pouting or complaining).

Maybe it’s time to have a full-fledged incentive chart. What does she get if she drinks a pint a day, for a full month? (Make sure the reward isn’t a box of ice cream or a package to herself of Oreos. Can you say “mixed messages”?)

We all respond to encouraging behaviors and praise. I’ve seen very famous, successful adults do fairly ridiculous things to please a teacher in a training and earn a small reinforcer.

What would your child be willing to do to spend a few hours with Mom and Dad, ice skating on a Friday night, all by himself, no siblings included? (This was a common reward for completing a goal chart for my kids as they were growing up.)

If your kids are young, no pressure here, but as an older parent, I’d love to share this with you:

From ages 0 to 11, you have a lot of control. Later, you will have decreasing impact on your children’s choices, so not only am I telling you to enjoy being the center of your child’s world; I’m also suggesting that you take very seriously that ages 0-11 is where you create habit. You are creating deep associations with food that will be powerful for the rest of their lives. Your child will have a very difficult time changing his associations with food — positive or negative, junk food versus nutritious options — after setting those tastes and habits and attitudes in the early years.

So, I’m asking you to consider how your example, what you talk about, and what you present to your children has everything to do with whether they’ll be healthy at 10, 20, 30, 40, 50, and beyond.

That might feel heavy. But it matters. Even if everything you serve isn’t the ���perfect” diet, do you think you will ever be sorry if you’re writing a blog post like this, 20 years from now, telling other people you made a blender full of superfoods-and-greens smoothies every day your kids were growing up?

I don’t think you will. I don’t think you’ll say, “I just wish I hadn’t fed my kids all that healthy food.” No parent has ever said it, and none ever will.

(Quite the opposite. Check out this blog post I wrote, collecting reactions from parents when I said, “What do you wish you’d done differently, as a parent?” You WILL find responses that say, “I wish I’d modeled and taught healthier dietary choices.” You’ll find no one saying the opposite.)

6.    Pull back on pressure but take responsibility.

“Forcing” your kids to eat anything can backfire. Once I watched one of my girlfriends, on a weekend at the lake with our little kids, hold her son down and shove pieces of a hot dog in his mouth. It was a shocking sight — an otherwise good mom driven to momentary insanity because her little guy was severely constipated and refusing to eat meals.

But just because we don’t “force,” does that mean everything should be a “choice,” even when a child is 3 years old, 7 years old, 10 years old?

Take advantage of the time in your child’s life when you have the most influence on them.

My own advanced study of child development leads me to this basic conclusion: we are not equipped to make all of our choices at a very young age. We should have increasing choice the older we get. And how a family rule or requirement is presented makes all the difference.

Remember when your mom made you clean your plate because kids in China were starving?

(I’m one of 8 children in a one-income military family [read: money was scarce, groceries were rationed], and I remember many times I woke up in the morning to have my dinner plate still at the table, and I wasn’t allowed to have oatmeal until I ate the two cold pieces of zucchini stuck to the plate from the night before. Because “there are starving children in Africa.” I always wondered, will they not starve if I eat all my zucchini? Or, is there any way I can send the starving children this zucchini? Because I would really love to.)

I don’t think everything about the “eat what you’re served” old-school mentality is bad. It’s an easy mentality to criticize, since most of us who were forced to “clean our plate” had to later overcome an eating disorder. (I gained the Freshman 15, because I didn’t have the self-awareness that I could go through the buffet line and then not eat every bite I’d put on my tray.)

On the upside, though, my 7 siblings and I will all eat pretty much anything, regardless of how it tastes. This serves us well in making our food choices based on what that food will do for us, rather than all our choices being related to whether it “tastes good.”

How can we have the best of both worlds from old-school parenting (“eat your vegetables, dammit”) and new-agey parenting (“here are some choices”)?

I understand that modern parenting believes that everything should be just giving your child choices. However, it’s foolishness to think that if you offer a kid a piece of pizza, versus a vegetable tray, that any kid would choose the veggies.

(I’ve actually tested this on groups of 25 children and gotten 0 takers each time on the vegetables.)

Most adults can’t resist junk food when it’s available to them — how can we expect kids to do any better?

I often tell my kids, “There are two kinds of foods. The kind we eat because it’s good for us, and the kind we eat because it tastes good. Most of our choices need to be in the first category. So just eat it, please.”

I think I’ve said it so many times, it’ll be quoted from the mic at my funeral, and all my kids will laugh their heads off.

It’s not very New-Agey parenting, I know. Parenting advice today is all about not “making” anybody do anything and just helping kids feel good about anything they choose as long as it’s not murder or grand larceny.

But it was all theory, this idea that kids should never be required to do anything; they should just be shown some vegetables on a regular basis, in case they might feel like trying some, and to break down their aversion to them.

Part of “getting real” about our responsibility as parents, as the primary teacher and behavior model, is not bringing junk food into the house.

It’s already next-to-impossible to avoid kids being fed donuts and soda at daycare, school, and even church.

So we’re doomed if sugary garbage foods are constantly tempting our kids in the pantry and fridge. The home is where food habits are taught, where most meals are eaten, and it’s where our children will learn habits that either serve them well, or lead them into obesity, the dieting yo-yo, and health problems for life.

I didn’t have junk food in my home. Ever. Not everyone will agree with that philosophy or practice, but I decided to give some healthy respect to how addictive these foods are and just not bring them home in the first place.

But if you put chocolate in my pantry, no matter what my PLANS were, I’d have it all gone within two days, guaranteed.

And I’m a certifiable health nut, with a fully developed frontal lobe, at my age, aware of higher purposes and consequences of my actions. And still, I’m helpless against chocolate. I’ve learned I just cannot have it in my house.

It’s rather foolish to think we can put Cheetohs and Diet Coke in our pantry and expect our kids to make healthy decisions and go for the big salad instead. While this is the prevailing popular parenting advice, I think it lacks a healthy respect for the addictive qualities of processed foods that are hurting our children, and dogging virtually all of us, into adulthood.

I am responsible for the food I bring into my home. I am responsible for the eating habits I show my children I am committed to.

And I am responsible for the things I need to know, and then teach, my children, about health, consequences, and how to optimize their life using food choices.

Parents are responsible for modeling healthy eating habits for their kids.

Oh, and one more thing:

While it might be tempting to try offer a green smoothie as a treat or a reward, that can send the wrong message to your kids.

Treating food as fuel for a healthy body is a smarter strategy for helping your kids to develop healthy eating habits and attitudes. It takes more creativity as a parent, to avoid defaulting into “food as a reward,” but even rewarding kids with a green smoothie teaches them some dangerous thought patterns.

Once I went to my children’s charter school and asked that my child not be assigned to a popular, excellent 5th grade teacher for the following year. Why? Because she rewarded all good behavior in her classroom with a drawer full of candy.

It wasn’t just that I didn’t want my daughter eating candy all day, which is bad for her physical health. It’s also that I didn’t want psychological hard-coding, at that impressionable age, that if you do something good, you deserve some junk food.

7. Make it matter: What’s in it for them?

When I talk to my kids about a healthy choice I wish they would make, I always talk about health benefits that matter to them.

Be very specific.

For instance, a motivated student will care that getting lots of vitamins, minerals, and enzymes will help her think more clearly and perform better on tests.

An athlete will care that all the muscles he depends on for fast-twitch activities, like pitching and fielding and hitting, are optimized when the foods highest in minerals keep the neurons and muscle fibers firing.

A child with acne will care that gluten, dairy, or sugar (or more than one of these) are causing inflammation in his gut and liver, showing up on his skin.

If you don’t have that conversation, he will think that his acne is a skin problem. (It’s never a skin problem–it’s a hormone and a gut problem, and while terrifying drugs like Accutane can mask symptoms, the problem remains.)

If I have any regrets as I look back at the time I had with each of my four children, it usually starts like this:

“I wish I had talked to him more about…..”

Deciding to have regular conversations with the kids about food, and its impact on the symptoms they complain about, is part of great parenting.

We must do it without heavy judgment or condescension. Information is best received by teens and young adults, I’ve found, if you start with this:

“You probably already know this, but….”

Try that. It’s magical. It disarms them from their automatic response of trying to prove to you how smart, independent, and sophisticated they are.

A series of smaller conversations about healthy eating will probably be more effective than one huge lecture.

And keep the conversations that could be construed as “lectures” short. Kids tune out instruction that goes on at length (you can probably imitate the teacher in Charlie Brown, symbolic of every time we’ve all spaced off during a long lecture).

I remember thinking I did a great job of teaching my kids about sex.

Later, my then-21 year old daughter scolded me, “You told me so much, all at once — you should have spread that out, and had lots of conversations over the years.”

And it was true, I realized. I delivered a mighty sermon on human sexuality, complete with a fabulous nuanced values statement of my own — and then considered the job done.

The best kind of sex ed is delivered, like most classes, in bits and pieces.

Food and nutrition are so very important — they deserve a lot of coverage. Not just “eat your vegetables!” But rather, focus on the WHY. Know your facts about food and health, and be very specific, and make it relevant.

MAKE IT A FAMILY AFFAIR

8.    Set a good example.

If you’re wondering how to get your kids to drink healthy green smoothies, it’s likely you already drink them yourself – but if you don’t, it’s time to start.

Kids learn by watching you, and modeling healthy food attitudes and behaviors will help them to develop their own. As an older parent, let me assure you that the results of what you model to your kids will be clear only as they become teenagers and adults.

Kids pay attention to your choices, and everything you eat matters. If your kids see you drink a green smoothie but then devour an entire bag of chips every night or scrape half of your own serving of broccoli into the trash, while taking seconds of the chicken dish, that green smoothie probably isn’t having the effect you hope it will.

Example is far more powerful than lectures.

9. Challenge each other.

Gamifying your daily green smoothies is a quick way to get the whole family into the habit. Try a green smoothie challenge where everyone commits to adding one smoothie per day for a set amount of time. I like a nine-day challenge, because it’s long enough for kids to see great results in their energy and sleep and try a variety of different smoothies.

At the dinner table, have the kids share with you what they notice during and after the 9 days. Maybe the family can discuss whether to continue on with the 9-day challenge. Ask them if they notice they have better/more poop and any other changes.

  Getting kids to drink greens can seem daunting in a world where few of their friends, and none of their social life, models this kind of choice – but it’s not impossible. With a little creativity and lot of patience, you can teach your kids to love making healthy choices that have long term positive consequences.

A FINAL NOTE

Because I did battle with the junk food world myself, and learned everything I write about in this blog post from experience raising four children, I wrote a book that many parents find very useful, to engage their children in making good choices.

The Adventures of Junk Food Dude is all about a boy named Connor who is suffering in grade school due to his diet being primarily processed food. Like one-third of America’s children today, he is significantly overweight.

Another boy in class, the Green Smoothie Guy, befriends him and challenges him to eat no processed sugar for 4 days. He teaches his new buddy how to make a green smoothie.

As Connor changes his habits, his family is inspired, and things turn around for him at school, too.

Many parents have told me that this book, geared for ages 4 to 11, is their child’s favorite book, and that they re-read it to them often.

Some parents tell me that their child asks, at the grocery store, “Mom, is this a Junk Food Dude food, or a Green Smoothie Guy food?”

When this book debuted, I made green smoothies for kids at book readings all over Utah, hosted by health food stores, and I let them choose a badge that said, “I’m a Green Smoothie Guy!” (or Girl)

A quiz at the end of the book lets your child point to foods Green Smoothie Guy taught Junk Food Dude about–foods they could choose more, so that they perform better in academic, athletics, and life in general.

READ NEXT: How one GreenSmoothieGirl reader is raising her kids to be healthy eaters–great tips!

  Robyn Openshaw, MSW, is the bestselling author of The Green Smoothies Diet, 12 Steps to Whole Foods, and 2017’s #1 Amazon Bestseller and USA Today Bestseller, Vibe. Learn more about how to make the journey painless, from the nutrient-scarce Standard American Diet, to a whole-foods diet, in her free video masterclass 12 Steps to Whole Foods.

    [1] Pem D, Jeewon R. Fruit and Vegetable Intake: Benefits and Progress of Nutrition Education Interventions- Narrative Review Article. Iran J Public Health. 2015;44(10):1309-21.

[2] US Department of Agriculture “Choose My Plate – Kids” Retrieved from: https://www.choosemyplate.gov/kids

[3] CDC Newsroom: Children eating more fruit, but fruit and vegetable intake still too low. Retrieved from: https://www.cdc.gov/media/releases/2014/p0805-fruits-vegetables.html

  Disclaimer: This article may contain affiliate links, which allows you to support our mission without costing you extra.

[Read More ...] https://greensmoothiegirl.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/10/healthy-green-smoothie-green-smoothie-recipe-ss-300x202.jpg https://greensmoothiegirl.com/kids-drink-green-smoothies/

[physiciansweightlossorlando-blog]

FIND YOUR DETOX SMOOTHIE: 7 SMOOTHIES FOR SPECIFIED RELIEF

When I started making my own detox smoothie the first thing I realized is that it will never taste like something off the menu at a Planet Smoothie…and nor should it ever.

The difference between a homemade detox smoothie and chain store smoothies (with the exception of a few) is added acidic toxins, like sugar. But isn’t this true with most foods we don’t make at home? Everything is healthier when we see what we’re putting into our dish (or in this case our blender).

If you’re like me, I like to pack my smoothies with optimal nutrition and to be honest, there isn’t much rhyme or reason to them. My usual smoothie has spinach, cauliflower, broccoli, avocado, mixed berries, mango, cinnamon, turmeric, and collagen protein. However, sometimes we need more targeted smoothies. When I feel fogged in a certain area, I find food that will clear that fog per say.

I then ask myself which part of my body needs a detox. Where am I hurting? Why am I feeling fatigued? What do I want to improve? When I target a problem area I can design a detox smoothie specifically designed for that relief.

PICK A DETOX SMOOTHIE FROM 7 RECIPES TO HELP COMBAT WHATEVER IS FOGGING YOUR BODY:

1.

MATCHA SMOOTHIE

FOR PROTECTING YOUTHFUL SKIN:

• 2 peeled, sliced and frozen ripe bananas • 1/4 cup chopped pineapple • 3/4 – 1 cup light coconut milk • 2 tsp matcha green tea powder • 1 heaping cup organic spinach or kale

Matcha is a powerful ground, powdered form of Japanese green tea that is actually much more potent in antioxidants than regular green tea offers. Because it is a powdered form, it is typically much thicker and foamier than steeped tea. Coupled with potent antioxidants, a matcha smoothie also contains a catechin called EGCG: a natural phytochemical found in plants. EGCG protects cell membranes from damage from free radicals.

If this isn’t enough to convince you, matcha is a natural and high source of caffeine to replace a sugary morning Frappuccino from Starbucks. Additionally, it contains the super food chlorophyll, which helps your body detoxify from chemicals we ingest from acidic foods. Matcha is also strong in improving metabolism function and supporting weight loss efforts.

Not to mention, matcha is delicious! To sip, blend, or bake with!

2.

BEET AND DRAGON FRUIT SMOOTHIE

FOR DETOXIFYING FOR LIVER:

• 2 frozen bananas • 1 medium dragon fruit • 1 medium beet, raw • 1 tablespoon chia seeds • 1 teaspoon fresh ginger root • Pinch of cinnamon • 1 to 2 cups of water (depending on desired consistency) • Optional: Scoop of vegan protein powder

The betaine, pectin, and betalains in beets helps your body detoxify by aiding in the removal of toxins we build up from too much acidic foods, exposure to pollution, and from internal stressors in the liver. Your liver health is vital as it is part of your body’s filtration system. Your liver decides which substances that you ingest are waste and which substances are nutrients to better your body. This means your liver deals with toxins firsthand and can therefore get a little dirty.

You liver needs to need to be cleaned and maintained. When your liver is “cleaned” or detoxified, it eliminates fat, stones in the gall bladder, and even helps lower your cholesterol and blood sugar levels.

3.

BLUEBERRY AND AVOCADO SMOOTHIE

FOR BRAIN FUNCTION:

● 2 cups blueberries ● 1 cup pomegranate juice (or any berry juice) ● 1 cup ice cubes ● 1 Tbsp. chia seeds ● 1 ripe banana, peeled ● Half of an avocado, peeled and pitted

A blueberry smoothie contains flavonoids which actually aid your brain in creating more neurons. Flavonoids, like matcha and turmeric, are another strong contender for antioxidant defense forces. Now it is actually the component that gives blueberries its color, anthocyanin, that helps reduce damage to our brain’s neurons. Because of an increase in neurons, it aids your brain’s hippocampus, which is your long term memory storage. So blueberries aid in overall function, prevention, and memory for your brain health. And they’re delicious!

Feel free to layer any detox smoothie with layers of plain Greek yogurt, granola, or even raw almond butter.

4.

ARUGULA PEAR SMOOTHIE

FOR OXYGENATION (ADDING OXYGEN TO THE BODY’S SYSTEMS):

• 1 oz arugula • 2 pears • 1 tbsp dried cranberries • 1/4 cup walnuts • 1 tbsp chia seeds • 1 cup water • 1 cup ice

Alongside other leafy greens, arugula contains an antioxidant that lowers glucose levels in the body. Arugula is a champion of weight loss and maintenance. Arugula is also high in nitrates which helps your body from an oxygenation deficiency. This means that an arugula smoothie is optimal for athletes or any level of exerciser from extended workouts. Arugula’s nitrate is also wonderful for people with cardiovascular or respiratory problems.

5.

TURMERIC SMOOTHIE

FOR INFLAMMATION:

• 1 large ripe banana, peeled, sliced, and frozen • 1 cup frozen or fresh pineapple • 1/2 Tbsp fresh ginger • 1/4 tsp ground turmeric • 1/2 cup carrot juice • 1 Tbsp lemon juice • 1 cup unsweetened almond milk

Turmeric is a plant from the same family as ginger which is another ancient healing spice. Inflammation is a part of arthritis, diabetes, and heart disease which when left untreated, can lead to pain and complications. Turmeric is powerful enough to reach the nucleus of cells and block inflammatory molecules invading the cell much like prescriptions with this purpose. A turmeric smoothie has anti-inflammatory components that are coupled with antioxidant properties that help strengthen your body’s preexisting antioxidants.

Feel free to add turmeric, ginger, and cinnamon for additional anti-inflammatory properties to any detox smoothie!

6.

CHOCOLATE AVOCADO SMOOTHIE

FOR STRENGTHENED HAIR:

• 1 avocado 2 tablespoons Dutch-process cocoa powder • 1 medium cold banana • 1/4 cup plain Greek yogurt or coconut cream • 2-4 tablespoons milk, optional • 1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract

Hair needs omega-3 and protein for growth. To limit breakage, add avocados to your diet with your multivitamin supplements. It’s actually recommended that you take your vitamins with avocados because avocados are made of monounsaturated fats that aid in your body’s absorption of nutrients like carotenoids and vitamins a, d, and e. You can even wear an avocado hair mask while you sip your avocado smoothie!

7.

CHERRY PROTEIN SMOOTHIE

FOR MUSCLE RECOVERY:

● 1 cup cherries, pitted, frozen ● 1 cup coconut milk, from carton ● 1 scoop vanilla protein powder

Cherries contain anthocyanin which aids your body in muscle recovery from soreness. Our muscles often feel inflamed after an extensive workout and therefore need anti-inflammatory foods to reduce that discomfort. Our muscles’ recovery is just as important as the workout itself. A cherry smoothie is particularly beneficial if you work out at night because cherries contain melatonin which help relax your body. So go ahead, drink some cherries recovery of the body and mind!

TO MAKE YOUR SMOOTHIES MORE POWERFUL AND MORE INSTAGRAM-READY, TOP THEM WITH SOME OF THESE:

– Chia seeds: omega-3, protein, magnesium, fiber – Cacao nibs: iron, magnesium, zinc, potassium, antioxidants – Flax seeds: omega-3, fiber, protein, vitamin b – Hemp seeds: protein, magnesium, iron, fiber, omega-3 – Chopped almonds: protein, fiber, vitamin e – Raw granola: fiber, manganese, iron, vitamin e – Bee pollen: protein, calcium, potassium, iron, zinc – Unsweetened coconut flakes: fiber, iron, zinc, manganese – Raw honey: vitamin b6, calcium, copper, zinc

The best part of smoothies is that there is no limitation on the ingredients you can blend together, however, some ingredients are just more powerful when paired intentionally.

Smoothies are the most convenient way to get maximum nutrition with very minimal effort. Most of these ingredients can be frozen and prepped for busy mornings and blended for a safe, on the go breakfast. Which detox smoothie will you start with?

Looking to lose weight in Orlando? We have medically-supervised weight loss plans that use your own body’s biology to work for you!

[psychotherapyconsultants]

7 Simple Smoothies to Boost Your Mood

I have mentioned in some of my posts that drinking a green smoothie is one of my more effective sanity tools. For fear of sounding like an infomercial, I must say that I realize there is no simple cure for depression. But I do think chugging down two or three of these leafy-green concoctions a day has significantly impacted my health and begun the healing process for some of my conditions.

The Benefits of Green Smoothies

Why green smoothies?

“Greens are the primary found group that matches human nutritional needs most completely,” explains Victoria Boutenko in her book Green for Life. They are nutrition powerhouses, packed with vitamins A, C, E, K, and folate; minerals like iron and calcium; carotenoids; antioxidants; omega-3s; and phytochemicals. In the book, you’ll read smoothie testimonials from people who have been able to get off breathing machines, sell their wheelchairs, recover from a stroke, and heal from cancer.

Greens provide insoluble fiber, which is like a miraculous sponge, helping us regularly eliminate pounds of toxins. They balance our pH levels, leaving our bodies more alkaline, and are a major source of chlorophyll, which, according to Boutenko, “heals and cleanses all our organs, and even destroys many of our internal enemies, like pathogenic bacteria, fungi, cancer cells, and many others.”

We could eat kale, Swiss chard, and spinach, of course, but many of us — and especially those like me who have been on different medications for decades — don’t have the stomach acid required to break down and process all the nutrients from the greens. Even for folks that do, it’s difficult to invest all the time we need to actually chew our food as we really need to in order to get the nutritional value from the greens. When they are chopped and blended into bitty pieces, they absorb more easily into our digestive systems.

How many of these things do you need to guzzle in order to feel any benefits? Boutenko recommends that we consume one to two quarts (liters) of green smoothies a day in addition to our existing diets. That’s four to eight cups.

My Favorite Recipes

Folks have been asking me for recipes, so I’m starting you off with a few simple ones.

I would recommend you start with more fruit and less greens (at least half and half) and graduate to a smoothie with more greens than sweet stuff. I started out hard-core, of course, and was pretty disgusted off the bat. Then I introduced more fruit and eased into this gig. Now I can tolerate more greens. If you Google “green smoothie recipes,” you’ll get over 8 million results! So don’t stick to these if you find that you feel better drinking this stuff. There is a whole new world ahead of you. I would start by visiting these two sites dedicated just to smoothies: Simple Green Smoothies and Incredible Smoothies.

Unfortunately, the smoothies are going to taste a lot better if you prepare them with a power blender, like a Vitamix or a Blendtec, but I realize that is an investment. My husband bought a refurbished Vitamix off Amazon for $500 two years ago. At the time, I was not at all happy about that. But given that I use the thing a few times a day, it’s proven to be one of the best investments we’ve ever made.

RELATED: 5 Tips for a Super-Healthy Smoothie

Boutenko says it’s important to rotate your greens and not drink the same smoothie every day. That way, you avoid a buildup of alkaloids from the same plant and you get a variety of different nutrients.

Place all the ingredients in your blender. The order doesn’t matter. If you have a Vitamix or another sophisticated blender, set it on the smoothie setting. If you are using a generic blender, blend the ingredients for one minute or until the mixture is smooth and without clumps.

1. Eric’s Kale and Pineapple Smoothie

This is my staple — the one I keep going back to — because it’s the easiest, and the one with which I began this venture.

4 cups kale

1 cup frozen pineapple

1 cup water

Beginners: Throw in another cup of either frozen pineapple or frozen strawberries.

2. Spinach Banana Smoothie

This is my second staple because, again, it’s simple. When I’m at the store, I buy a bunch of bananas, peel them, cut them up, and freeze them. I find that the frozen fruit tastes better in the smoothies.

4 cups baby spinach

2 frozen bananas

1 cup water

Beginners: Add a cup of frozen strawberries or pineapple.

3. Swiss Chard Strawberry Smoothie

When I can make it to Whole Foods, I buy Swiss chard because it always tastes good in a smoothie, and it’s incredibly nutritious. I like to blend it with berries, but warning: The color isn’t appealing. Just imagine that it’s chocolate.

4 cups chopped Swiss chard

1 cup frozen strawberries

½ cup frozen blueberries

1 cup water

4. Spinach Cocoa Smoothie

You don’t think of spinach and chocolate as a happy marriage, but let me tell you: This one tastes ALMOST as good as a Dairy Queen shake. Spinach, of course, is a wonder food, but did you know that just one tablespoon of unsweetened cocoa powder contains 3 to 9 percent of the recommended daily intake of essential minerals like iron, manganese, magnesium, and zinc? It’s a win-win.

4 cups baby spinach

2 tablespoons unsweetened cocoa powder

1 cup water

2 frozen bananas

5. Tropical Skin Cleanser Green Smoothie

To be honest, I’m not really after the skin side effects from drinking green smoothies, but people have told me my complexion looks better. I liked this smoothie from the site Simple Green Smoothies because it was, well, simple, and because avocados are a mood-boosting food.

1 ½ cups fresh spinach

1 cup unsweetened coconut water

1 cup frozen pineapple

¼ avocado

6. Apple-Lemon Smoothie

This is one of my favorite green smoothies from the site Incredible Smoothies:

2 apples

1/2 lemon, juiced

2 cups fresh baby spinach (or other leafy green)

1 whole carrot

1/2 cup water

7. Igor’s Favorite

Boutenko includes 30 green smoothie recipes of her own in her book Green for Life. This is her husband’s favorite:

½ bunch spinach

4 apples, peeled

½ lime with peel

1 banana

2 cups water

  Join Project Hope & Beyond, a depression community.

Originally posted on Sanity Break at Everyday Health.

from World of Psychology http://psychcentral.com/blog/archives/2017/01/10/7-simple-smoothies-to-boost-your-mood/

[plants-rule]

(adsbygoogle = window.adsbygoogle || []).push({ google_ad_client: "ca-pub-3156616266723397", enable_page_level_ads: true });

My third, 5-minute “Get Healthy” Simple Step:

 Four Fruits a Day

Pop question:

Would you rather eat:

1 “Healthy” Energy Bar

#gallery-0-25 { margin: auto; } #gallery-0-25 .gallery-item { float: left; margin-top: 10px; text-align: center; width: 50%; } #gallery-0-25 img { border: 2px solid #cfcfcf; } #gallery-0-25 .gallery-caption { margin-left: 0; } /* see gallery_shortcode() in wp-includes/media.php */

200 calories

13g fat

15g carbs

6g fiber

6g protein

Gone in 6 bites

or:

4 Pieces of Fruit

Fresh peaches and nectarines

230 calories

1g fat

58g carbs

11g fiber

3g protein

4 snacks you can spread throughout the day

Answer:  Pick the fruit

It’s so simple, it’s ridiculous.

When you’re craving a sweet treat at the end of a meal, a juicy burst of flavor, or a crunchy, crispy snack — reach for fruit.  Fruit is “Nature’s Candy”.  It’s all-natural, unrefined goodness. It is packed with nutrients like Vitamin C, Potassium, fiber, and even a shot of protein.  It’s gluten-free, plant-based, and you can splurge on organic for less than the cost of fancy granola bars.

Sadly, though, most of us aren’t eating enough of it.  In fact, only 33% of adults are eating fruit 2 or more times a day.  That means most of us are eating only 1 (or even none!) servings a day.

Fruit is a healthy source of vitamins, fiber, and natural sweetness.  It can be a delicious treat any time of day, convenient for on-the-go snacking or an impressive healthy dessert.  With a rainbow of colors and flavors to choose from, fruit provides endless recipe possibilities.  

Could you eat:

Strawberries at breakfast

An orange at lunch

Abanana as an afternoon snack, and

An apple with cinnamon for dessert after dinner?

Or maybe:  Toss some blueberries in your oatmeal, add some pineapple to your salad, snack on a few grapes during the bus ride home, and eat a 5-Minute Chocolate Banana “I-Scream!” at night?

Your goal this week:  Eat 4 Natural, Whole Fresh Fruits Every Day

I’ve got some tips and tricks to get you started…

Here’s my Ultimate Chef’s Guide:

New Ideas on how to Cook and Enjoy Fruit

Besides just biting into a fresh apple, there are quite a few options for cooking fruit.  You can stuff and bake those apples, grill some pineapple, or poach some pears.  My experience as a plant-based chef has taught me a few key lessons on basic cooking techniques for fruit:

[the_ad_placement id=”content”]

Roasting or Baking

Skill Level: Intermediate                                  Taste Level: Nervous Seedling

Use on: Harder, sturdier fruits like apples, pears, and peaches

How to do it: Preheat oven to 375.  Use an apple corer or a small paring knife to remove the core, seeds, and pit.   Place the fruit into a baking dish and add enough water to cover the bottom of the pan.  Sprinkle on a teaspoon or so of cinnamon or pumpkin spice mix.  Cover and bake 40 minutes, then remove the cover for another 10-15 minutes.  You want the fruit to be knife-tender and slightly brown on top.

Chef’s Tips for Ultimate Flavor: You can add extra texture and delicious flavor by stuffing the fruit.  For a quick gluten-free, healthy stuffing, mix: rolled oats, raisins, pecans, and cinnamon. Play with other variations by mixing in dried cherries, chopped dates, walnut pieces, cooked brown rice, nutmeg, and ginger.

#gallery-0-26 { margin: auto; } #gallery-0-26 .gallery-item { float: left; margin-top: 10px; text-align: center; width: 33%; } #gallery-0-26 img { border: 2px solid #cfcfcf; } #gallery-0-26 .gallery-caption { margin-left: 0; } /* see gallery_shortcode() in wp-includes/media.php */

Chef’s Tip: Make a quick, healthy stuffing for baked apples by combining gluten-free rolled oats, raisins, pecans, and cinnamon

Chef’s Tip: An apple corer makes quick work of baking off a batch of healthy, satisfying fruit treats

Chef’s Baking Tip: The apples are done baking when a knife easily slides in and out. You’ve got a satisfying, warm, delicious dessert ready to go.

Poaching or Stewing

Skill Level: Intermediate

Taste Level: Curious Seedling – Confident Brussel Sprout

Use on: Whole or halved fresh apples, pears, peaches, apricots, and nectarines.  Also great to rehydrate dried fruits like cherries, apricots, and figs.

How to do it:  To poach fruit, first prepare your fruit by removing any inedible parts (like core, seed, or tough peels).  Place fruit into a wide pan and add enough liquid to come up about 1/2 inch of the bottom of the fruit.  Partially cover and bring to a simmer.  Simmer over low for 10 minutes.  Then, flip the fruit, and simmer another 10 minutes, or until the fruit is tender enough to pass the knife-glide test.  Serve the fruit with the poached liquid.  The only difference between stewing and poaching?  With stewing, you’ll add enough liquid to completely cover the fruit and generally cook the fruit longer.

To make the Ultimate:  Infuse the poaching or stewing liquid with flavor.  Whole Vanilla Beans and a splash of white wine are classic.  A dash of cinnamon or pumpkin pie spice is an easy go-to option.  For fancier flavor, try spices like Cardamom, Anise, Cloves, or Chinese Five-Spice.

For more interesting textures, use both dried and fresh fruits.  The dried fruits will plump up as they absorb the poaching liquid, creating delicious “flavor bursts”.

Chef’s Tip: Add enough liquid to cover just 1/2-inch of the fruit. Stir or flip the fruit to make sure it even soaks up some of the poaching liquid for healthy, fat-free, delicious flavor

Broiling or Grilling

Skill Level: Intermediate                             Taste Level: Curious Seedling – Confident Brussel Sprout

Use on: Tropical fruits like pineapple, mango, banana; Stone fruits like peaches, plums, and apricots; other fun fruits like apples and grapefruit — so many options!

How to do it:  Basically, you want to heat a grill or your broiler to a “Hi” heat.  Cut your fruit in half and leave in large pieces.  If you’re using something like a peach or apple, remove the pit or seeds.  Once your grill is nice and hot, place the fruit on the grill.  Don’t touch it!  Let it sear for at least 5 minutes.  This will help the fruit caramelize, bringing out the natural sugars.  It will also help release the fruit, making it easier to flip.  After 5 minutes or so, flip the fruit and grill another 3-5 minutes on the second side.

To broil:  The only difference between broiling and grilling is where your flame is.  For grilling, the flame is below.  For broiling, it’s above.  You can broil a large quantity of fruit in your oven.  Simply spread the fruit onto a baking sheet, leaving the cut side facing up.  Broil 5 minutes, flip, and finish another 5 minutes.

Easy Broiled Apples – Healthy, Gluten-Free, Oil-Free, No Sugar Added, Plant-Based, Vegan Fruit Dessert Snack Recipe

Broiled Banana with Cinnamon and Cocoa Nibs – Healthy, Gluten-Free, Grain-Free, Paleo, Oil-Free, Plant-Based, Vegan REcipe

Frozen…and even Canned

Skill Level: Beginner                             Taste Level: Curious Seedling – Confident Brussel Sprout

Use on: Frozen berries, mango, banana, peaches, and pineapple

How to do it:  When fresh fruit isn’t at its peak, try frozen instead.  Frozen fruit is packed during the height of the season, when fruit is at its ripest, so it can provide high-quality sweetness at a reasonable price.  Some organic fruits like wild blueberries or organic peaches are cheaper frozen.  In fact, many chefs prefer the consistency that frozen fruits provide, especially in baking recipes.

Wild Blueberries add a pop of sweet delicious flavor to these healthy vegan muffins. You can use frozen year-round

Fresh

Skill Level: Beginner                             Taste Level: Curious Seedling – Confident Brussel Sprout

Use on: Anything!  Oranges, apples, mangos, blueberries, pineapple, watermelon…whatever looks delicious!

How to do it:  There aren’t many “rules” when it comes to eating fresh fruit.  Generally, it’s best to follow what is in season…strawberries in January usually aren’t as flavorful as they are in May.  However, with year-round indoor farming catching ground and international shipping that brings us incredible plums from Argentina, even this guideline isn’t steadfast.

Two tips on picking the best fruit:

1)  Smell it — If you can close your eyes and identify the fruit (or at least smell sweetness), you’re off to a good start

2)  Weigh it — Heavier fruit is generally juicier, riper, and more delicious.  You can just hold it in your hands to give it the “weight test”.  If the fruit feels heavier than it looks, you’re good to go.

To make the Ultimate:   Ever had an apple tasting?  Why not try this at your next dinner party?  Rather than a cheese tasting or wine tasting, choose 4-5 different varieties of apples from the market.  Slice them up, then lead a “tasting” where your guests rate the apples on color, sweetness/tartness, crispness, and overall flavor.

Or make tropical fruit skewers with some unique fruits like papaya, guava, and lychee?  This is a fun way to bring some playfulness to dessert.

For kids:  Try the “color challenge”.  Next time the kids join you for grocery shopping, give them to the goal to choose “2 red, 1 purple, and 1 orange” fruits.  They might come back with red apples, purple grapes, and orange grapefruit…or something totally different!  They’ll love playing a game AND getting to have a choice in what groceries come home.

Healthy Fruit Nutrition:

Heart-Healthy Fiber

Nutrition Powerhouse

Can you eat Too Much?

Nutrition Powerhouse Truths:  Fruit is naturally a good source of Vitamin C, Potassium, Folate, and Dietary Fiber.  These nutrients help fight colds, protect you from heart disease, lower blood cholesterol, help your skin heal from cuts, improve red blood cell function, and generally keep you moving and grooving for years to come.

Too Much Fruit:  Is it possible to eat too much fruit?  Despite the fact that most of us aren’t getting enough fresh fruit in our diets, this is one of the most common concerns.  Often we’re worried about “too much sugar” or “fructose toxicity”.  However, research has shown that eating even 20 servings of fruit a day was safe, even lowering cholesterol.  This article on the Forks Over Knives blog lays it all out: Is it Possible to Eat Too Much Fruit?

Check out my Fruit Videos on YouTube:

Fruit: How to Pick It and Cut It

Easy and Creative Fruit Recipes:

Hungry Yet?

Here are some healthy, plant-based recipes to inspire you to Eat Your Fruit:

Cherries, Berries, Pineapple, Pears: 15 Easy and Creative Healthy Fruit Recipes

[the_ad_placement id=”content”]

References and More Reading:

Why is it Important to Eat Fruit, Choosemyplate.gov : https://www.choosemyplate.gov/fruits-nutrients-health

Fruit and vegetable consumption among adults–United States, 2005. Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC): https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmed/17363889

Is It Possible to Eat Too Much Fruit? BY NAOMI IMATOME-YUN, Forks Over Knives blog: https://www.forksoverknives.com/is-it-possible-to-eat-too-much-fruit/

Step Two: Four Fruits a Day, An Easy Change towards a Healthy, Plant-Based Life My third, 5-minute “Get Healthy” Simple Step:  Four Fruits a Day Pop question: Would you rather eat: