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could-have-beens · 5 years ago

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Like A Memory

For Day 6: First Christmas of the @hansannafortheholidays event!

I kind of stretched the prompt for this one, but I hope you guys like it!

Also posted on ff.net and ao3. Feedback is very much appreciated.

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Summary: In which Anna spends her Christmas Eve panicking in the emergency room, worrying about going to jail, and embarrassing herself in front of the man she may or may not have run over with her car. Modern AU . . . sort of.

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The night had started out innocently enough. All Anna had wanted was to get some glögg before Elsa came over for dinner. It was Christmas tradition, after all. One of the few she and Elsa remembered from their childhood, in the years before their parents died and her sister shut the world away. And now that she and Elsa were reconnecting, now that Elsa was learning how to let people in again, Anna wanted their Christmas Eve to be fun and memorable and special. Just one night of bonding and reminiscing with the only family she had left. Was that really so much to ask for?

Go get some glögg, Anna, she thought to herself. It won't take long, Anna, just drop by the grocery store and, boom, you're back in a jiffy! Ugh.

But Anna had underestimated the number of last-minute shoppers, and what was supposed to be a quick, twenty-minute trip turned into a frustrating two-hour crawl down the checkout queue and, later, through the godforsaken traffic.

And then this, of all things, just had to happen — the final nail in her proverbial coffin.

"You're going to jail," said Kristoff.

Anna groaned. "Shut up."

"Isn't that what happens when you nearly kill a dude?"

"You're exaggerating."

"Anna, you ran him over."

"I did not!" she cried indignantly. "I just . . . grazed him, that's all."

"Yeah, well, graze or not, poor guy whacked his head on the pavement and was knocked unconscious."

"It's not my fault, okay? He was jaywalking. I had the right of way! The stoplight said so!"

"Still," Kristoff said, shrugging.

Anna glared. Not that he noticed. The hospital's waiting room was equipped with a vending machine, and Kristoff was busy steadily working his way through each of the snacks. The crunching of the bags made Anna's head pound and her teeth grind.

Kristoff wasn't that bad, really, all things considered. He and Elsa had been friends since their freshman year, and it was easy to see why her ever paranoid sister, always so determined to keep her safe and sheltered, had insisted they share an apartment when Anna left home for university. He was nice. Responsible. An all-around good roommate who did her dishes with minimal complaining when she forgot to. But sometimes he was a bit too pessimistic — realistic, he would say — and it grated on her nerves.

Like right now.

"How are you so calm?" Anna demanded.

"I wasn't the one driving."

"If I'm going to get charged, I'm pointing you as accessory to — to — to whatever it is I'm gonna be charged with — which won't happen because I didn't do anything wrong! If anything, he should be getting fined because he wasn't watching where he was going —"

"Neither were you."

"You were distracting me."

"Yeah, because there was a guy crossing the street. Which I told you."

"You didn't tell me — you screamed."

"Nuance," he said, shrugging again. Then there was a bag of chocolates being shook under nose. "Here. It's no marzipan, but it's better than nothing."

Anna was touched, in spite of everything. Maybe being roommates with him for the rest of the year wouldn't be so bad after all. Maybe she might just survive living with Kristoff Bjorgman until the end of the school year.

Unless she went to jail.

Oh god.

"I don't think I can eat right now," said Anna, feeling her stomach churn with dread.

It must have shown on her face, because Kristoff started to look a little panicked. "Look, I'm sure it's going to be fine," he said carefully. "Just . . . calm down, okay?"

She tried to breathe. In, out. In, out. It was easier said than done, more so when she felt her phone vibrating in her bag and heard the familiar ringtone. As she looked at the screen, Anna could have sworn her heart plummeted to her stomach.

"Please tell me you didn't call my sister," she said, voice barely above a whisper.

There was a long, agonizing pause. "Um."

Anna put her head in her hands and groaned. Elsa's never gonna let me borrow her car again, is she?

That is, if her sister didn't lock her in the house first. Anna could imagine it, and at this point, she wouldn't even blame Elsa for closing the gates and throwing away the key.

An hour, a panicked phone call, and several bags of chips from the vending machine later, they finally let Anna in to see the guy she had lightly grazed. She had a whole speech planned — a long, winding, heartfelt monologue where she apologized to the guy and begged him to not press charges because it wasn't like she meant to hit him, okay, she really was just following the stoplights and the signs and being a good, safe, harmless driver and, besides, it wasn't like he broke any bones, right? All he got was a concussion, and he was obviously fine now, wasn't he? So it wasn't like it was that big of a deal, right? Right?

Except the words died in her throat the moment she saw him. When Anna had hit him, it had been too dark out in the street to get a good look at his face, and she had been too busy panicking and freaking out to register what he looked like when Kristoff had helped bring him to the hospital.

But now, under the fluorescent lights, it wasn't hard to see his face at all. The auburn hair, the green eyes, the high cheekbones, even the light dusting of freckles —

— they're dancing, gliding, flying across the ballroom and she feels the swish of her ballgown as he twirls her and his smile makes her cheeks flush with a strange, pleasant warmth — they're climbing up rooftops in all their finery, staring up at the star-strewn sky and there's goosebumps all over her arms as the cool night air passes over her — he's down on his knee and the rush of water is so loud that she almost doesn't hear him, but she sees his eyes, beautiful and breathtaking and guileless — gloved hands in her own, on her waist, brushing her cheek — Oh, Anna, if only there was someone out there who —

The room stretched out at the corners, then shrank back in again before finally blurring all over — and suddenly Anna was back to white linoleum floors and pale blue walls and too bright lights.

The man had cleared his throat, she realized, pulling her back forcibly into the moment. Anna could hear her heart drumming in her ears, faster and faster the more she stared at him, loud and heavy in the dead quiet silence.

"Um, hi," she said at last, and just like that it was as if a dam had broken inside her, and a stream of words came flooding out all at once before she could reign them in. "I didn't mean to run you over — I mean graze! I grazed you! And I didn't mean to do that, honestly, but — well . . . look the sign obviously said — not that I'm blaming you for getting hit by my car! It's just — well, I — er, are you okay?"

He — I'm so sorry, are you hurt — was looking at her, eyebrows slightly furrowed as he struggled to parse out all the word vomit she had spewed at him. It occurred to her then, as her eyes searched his face, waiting for some sort of response to her rambling, that there was no spark of recognition in his eyes, no flicker or hint of anything that could have meant he remembered her —

But why would he? Anna had never met him before tonight — why on earth did she think he would recognize her? That she should recognize him?

And yet . . .

She couldn't help but feel that she had done this all before. The longer she stood there, watching him watching her, the more she found herself unable to tear her eyes away from him, afraid he would disappear at any moment.

Wrong, something inside her whispered. Wrong wrong wrong but —

Familiar.

But how — why would he — why did she —

"I think I should be the one asking you that," the man said quietly. Hesitantly.

"What?"

"You're crying."

Mortified, Anna raised her hand to her cheek — tears, she realized, because she was crying, why was she crying —

"Oh," she said, forcing out a laugh as she quickly wiped her cheeks. "Sorry. Um . . . it's been a long day, you know?"

"Are you sure?" he asked, eyes soft with concern.

He's sitting astride his brown horse, looking at her worriedly as she blushed and stammered and tried to stand up with as much grace as she could muster —

"Oh yeah," Anna started, a little too loudly, and tried to look away. Good grief someone shut me up, she thought, inwardly cringing. "Totally. I'm fine. Super fine. So, um, are you? Okay, I mean?"

"Super," he replied with a small half smile. "I'm just sorry I kept you waiting."

"No, no — it's fine — er, not fine, obviously. Because you're in a hospital bed and all. Which is on me — sorry about that."

"It was my own fault anyway. I should have watched where I was going."

"And I should have been paying more attention to the road so . . . I'm sorry for hitting you with my car. And for every moment after."

I'd like to formally apologize for hitting the princess of Arendelle with my horse . . . and for every moment after.

He gave a slight shrug. "Don't be. If anything, I actually want to thank you. You single-handedly kept me away from my brothers for the evening. Believe me, I owe you my life."

"I'm pretty sure there are other ways to get away from family reunions. Ones that don't involve spending Christmas Eve in the emergency room."

"Well, you're here too," he said. "So I'd like to apologize anyway, for keeping you and your boyfriend from whatever plans you had for the evening."

"Boyfriend? You mean —" Anna broke off, snickering at the thought. She hadn't even realized he had seen Kristoff. "He's not — that is, I'm not really seeing anyone right now —"

Again, Anna cringed. How many times was she going to do this in one night? Ugh, too much information there. Way to go, Anna. If he doesn't already think you're an idiot, then he definitely does now.

"Really?" the man said, tilting his head. "So I take it no one's going to object if I wanted to, say, buy you a drink?"

Anna's mind went blank.

"Wait, what?" she sputtered. Surely she hadn't heard that right. . . .

"Either that, or I press charges," he said, still grinning — which was strange, because it felt like he was asking her so much more.

"What?" she repeated. He still hadn't looked away. "You're serious."

"Deadly," he said, but his laugh didn't reach his eyes. He looked nervous all of a sudden, and it made her aware of the heavy pounding in her chest.

"But you — you're asking me out on a date? Right now? On Christmas?"

"It doesn't have to be right now — I'm sure you have plans . . . but maybe after? Tomorrow? Whenever you're free."

"This is crazy. You — you don't even know me and I don't even know your name —"

"Hans," he said, and for a moment Anna saw someone else — the same man but different, offering his hand, pulling her to her feet, dropping to his knees and bowing —

"And isn't that the point of dates?" he went on. "To get to know each other?"

"Well, I guess but . . ."

She still didn't understand what this was, what it meant. But he was looking at her, waiting, still with that same nervous — hopeful longing guarded — look.

It wasn't like that day by the dark fireplace, when she was crawling on a cold, hard floor, shards of ice piercing her skin from the inside. It wasn't even like that night on the balcony, on the rooftop, by the waterfall, when he had promised no more closed doors, no more pain of the past, I would never shut you out, can I say something crazy, will you marry me —

This was different. Familiar, yes, but different too. Somehow there was a distinction, in ways she hadn't worked out yet. And maybe it didn't matter — maybe for now just knowing and being and living — because he was here and she was here and maybe —

"Yes," she said at last, trying to ignore the reservation, the flickering film of — of memories she knew but didn't understand — telling her to turn tail and run. "I think I'd like that."

Something dull in his eyes sparked to life. "Think?"

"I'm still trying to figure it out," Anna said, smiling, and maybe this was enough.

#hansanna #hansanna fic #prince hans #hans #princess anna #anna #hansannafortheholidays #hansannafortheholidays2019 #my fic #fic: like a memory

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star-trekkin-across-theuniverse · 6 years ago

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Spooky

The mission has been straight forward enough - get in, eliminate the target, get out. It was idiot proof. Or so you thought. You’d begun to learn that where Clint Barton was concerned, nothing was ever idiot proof.

Wait. That sounded cruel. But it was true. If a mission could be fucked up, Clint was at your side for it to happen. Maybe that said more about you than him? Maybe you were just a doomed partnership. He didn’t seem to have the same problems with Natasha.

Now, Eastern Europe was filled with anxiety-inducing former-Soviet-bloc horrors that honestly gave you nightmares, but being assigned to track down and eliminate a human trafficker who liked to go by Vlad Dracul made the whole thing creepier. October in Romania, Clint’s shitty-ass vampire jokes, and your own self-sabotage by being far too big a fan of the genre was not helping.

And the rest of the team had thought it was hilarious that you were tracking a vampire. Because they don’t exist, right? You laughed and played the dupe, but you weren’t so sure. All the intel on the guy made him sound disturbingly like the actual Dracula of legend. Which scared you even more. Which made Clint ride you even more. Which, when the chips were down, made the whole goddamn scene an even bigger shitshow.

Turns out vampires do exist, by the way. And you were now sporting a nice hickey from the truly-from-legend-goddamn Dracula. Clint was knocked out at your feet, apparently not Drac’s type and you were just. so. fucking. done. Weak from lack of blood, mad at your partner, and tied to some kind of freaky-ass altar, you just couldn’t even. You were praying for a cavalry. Your extraction wasn’t due for 72 hours, and you were over 100 miles from the extraction point, as near as you could figure, so you really didn’t have a lot of hope for the cavalry, but you were opportunistically praying to every god you’d ever heard of, whether you knew they existed or not, hoping someone would show up.

The walls of the crypt you were in were damp and caught the dim light from the stereotypically bleak candles in a way that emphasized exactly how spooky the whole scene was. It felt like the set of an old black and white B-movie where they’d blown the budget on the dressing the scene. Too bad you were the world’s shittiest actress. And your so-called leading man was on the ground, down for the count.

There was a hollow dripping than echoed throughout the chamber, making you wonder if there was a well nearby. And the wind howled outside, and there was an occasional flash of light followed by a loud, booming crack of thunder. If you weren’t feeling so weak, you might have been more frightened. As it was, you were dehydrated enough that no one was going to be able to scare the pee out of you if they sprung out of one of the dark corners.

You resumed your quiet muttered prayers, wishing the bastard vampire had at least shackled your hands together. But spread apart, you couldn’t even hope to break free.

“Why the fuck do they always send out unpowered teammates together? Could I get sent with Steve? Or Bucky? Or Wanda? Nooooo. Me and Clint. Every goddamn time.” You stopped praying long enough to soliloquay before starting back up. A low moan from near your feet informed you that Clint was finally rousing.

“Try praying to Thor, dumbass. He’s at least on our side,” Clint grumbled. “And we know he fucking exists.”

“Look dipshit -” you started, and then realized he was right. Thor might not hear you, but maybe Heimdal would. You hoped Asgardian hearing was supersonic because you didn’t want to risk yelling through the castle walls and alerting your captor. A clanging of metal on metal sounded from the stairs and your breath caught. Had it seriously worked? Your eyes strained in the low light, only to be disappointed by the appearance of Dracula. It must be feeding time.

“My flower, your cheeks grow wan,” he commented, brushing his hand along your face. “Soon, you will be drained, and you can join me in the afterlife.”

“I’d rather not. I have this thing about enjoying the sun. I get really bad seasonal affective disorder, so living in darkness might not work for me long-term. And I was thinking of becoming a vegetarian. Pretty sure people are off the menu if I go that lifestyle,” you rambled, nervous and frightened. He leaned down and inhaled deeply near your throat.

“The fear makes your blood so much sweeter,” he commented.

“Really? Because I would think I’m burning through my stores pretty damn fast at this point. Like, my blood sugar has to be down in my boots, and my hemoglobin, after your last drink? I’m like when your gramma thinks you’re looking chunky so she waters down the fruit punch at Auntie Donna’s birthday party. I bet Clint is way more delicious at this point,” you were starting to panic and your words were coming as fast as you could form them.

“Hey!” Clint protested from the ground. Dracula just smiled and shook his head.

“Your humour makes your sacrifice all the more determined. How could I resist such wry commentary? For eternity? No, darling, you are my chosen consort,” he laughed softly, his breath cool against your skin. You felt his lips against your neck and stiffened, bracing for the snap of teeth into your skin.

“Oh please, oh please, oh please, oh please.” The words were a rapid litany under your breath, your eyes clenched shut. “Thor, please, Thor, please, Thor -”

“He is not coming, my dark princess. No one is. Submit. Submit and this fool will be your first meal,” Dracula interrupted, kicking Clint in the ribs.

“I don’t want to eat him!” You protested weakly. “He’s my friend.”

“And not your lover?” Dracula asked, crooning an eyebrow. “A shame. It’s always sweeter when there is love between you.”

“Aww, dude. No,” Clint moaned from the floor. If you could have shrugged, you would have. He was only saying what you both felt. Lightning flashed in the room again and the thunder was just seconds behind it. In any other circumstance, you would have assumed it was Thor, but the storm had been raging for hours, and hadn’t shown any sign of letting up.

“You will still provide nourishment to your partner, despite the lack of amorous feeling,” Dracula explained, looking down at Clint. The thought of digging your teeth into your friend’s neck was enough to turn your stomach. Or at least, it would have been, if there was anything in there to turn. You’d been running on chocolate covered almonds and caffeine for half a day when you’d been caught. You doubted you had enough substance in you to even create bile to toss up.

Dracula turned back to you, and resumed the weird scenting ritual he seemed to be performing along your neck.

“Quick question?” You asked. He paused, as though waiting. “Why me? What makes me so special that you want me to rule by your side?” You asked, mocking his accent in the process. And suddenly were hit by a fit of the giggles, at the sheer ludicrousness of the whole situation.

“For a human, you are remarkably gifted,” he admitted. “And there is the concern of you wanting to eliminate me. What better way to remove my enemy than to turn her to me?”

“Okay, Clint is just way more talented than I am. Much better if you’re looking at skills. More agile, braver, definitely a better shot. Nicer physique too, I have this whole weak upper body thing going on, but check out the dude’s guns. He’s packing some serious heat, I mean, he could rival Steve almost, I think. And if you’re wanting a companion that can lure in more victims, he’s pretty cute as long as he keeps his mouth shut. You could bounce a fucking quarter off his ass and -”

“Enough!” Dracula snapped, effectively silencing you.

“Thanks, Y/N,” Clint grumbled. “Way to chuck me under the horse drawn vampire carriage.”

“I can’t help that it’s true. And this is where the whole you’re braver thing comes in. I know you’d just suck it up, pardon the pun, and being the hero and die, but I’m not brave like you. I got to where I am by being sneaky and sly and -”

“I said enough!” Dracula’s voice boomed through the room and you startled silent. Everything startled silent, it seemed, the storm finally quieting down, the wind no longer howling down the stairs. He leaned down to you again and this time drew his tongue across the bite marks he’d previously left. “When you waken, my love, you will hunger. You will thirst as you never have before. And you, and your friend will be locked down here until he is drained. And then you will join me in death’s embrace.”

His teeth grazed your neck and you could feel your heart rate accelerating, and cursed it, knowing the damn muscle would just pump you down his throat that much faster. You drew in a deep breath, and forced yourself to go to the happy place the team shrink had forced you to build after your first bad mission.

“I’m in my happy place, I’m in my happy place,” you mumbled. “I’m on a beach, and it’s sunny, and Thor and Steve are playing beach volleyball with Tony and Sam and Bucky and no one has shirts on, and there’s sweaty glistening muscles and I have a frosty, slushy drink with loads of booze in it to lower my inhibitions and OH FUCK THAT REALLY FUCKING HURTS Thor’s shorts have little hammers on them like some kind of joke, and even Loki is there and his shirt is off too and it’s like a fucking hot dude calendar filled with guys I’d totally screw and OW OW OW OW OW, happy place, happy place, happy place.” Your mind grew grey and fuzzy and you couldn’t stop yourself as you lapsed from consciousness as a huge crack of lightning lit the room.

You drowsed back into consciousness and felt a warm hand on your cheek. “Tell me more about my shorts, ástin mín.” The voice was warm, and rich and you tried to open your eyes, but the room was too bright and you flinched, closing them again. Your stomach rolled at the onslaught and you groaned and turned your head into the hand cupping your face.

“What shorts?” You asked. Your mouth was dry and your voice cracked with disuse. It was so fucking bright. You must be dead. You must be dead, and this must be heaven. Or maybe hell, because that sounded a lot like Thor and if he’d heard about his shorts and your happy place, this was your worst nightmare.

“My shorts with the hammers. And my brother, did his shorts have that cow horned helm of his?” It was Thor. And he was teasing you. You were in hell.

“Am I dead? If not, can you kill me? I would like to be dead,” you moaned.

“Is there a theme to our beach attire? Does Steve have shields, and Tony -”

“I really hadn’t got that far into the fantasy,” you turned your head away from his voice, suddenly warm with embarrassment.

“But you knew of my shorts? Does this rank me higher on the list of guys you would screw?” His teasing was gentle and there was a soft huff of laughter from him at the end of the question. You turned your head back to him and forced your eyes open enough to glare at him.

“I nearly died, Thor,” you pointed out.

“You did,” he nodded, sombrely.

“And you’re teasing me about my stupid crush on you,” you complained. He lifted the hand you hadn’t realized he was holding and kissed your palm.

“I nearly lost you, ástin mín. Forgive me for trying to forget it by teasing you.” You curled your fingers against his face and felt the rough scratch of his beard, and forced your eyes open again. There were tears at the edges of his eyes and he looked tired, and drawn.

“How did I not die?” You asked. He laughed.

“I am a god, it would seem,” he smiled.

“What?”

“I heard your prayers. We had been looking for you and Clint since you’d fallen off the grid. We’d been following your trail, but you’d disappeared. We knew we had to be somewhat close, and then I found your tracking beacon where you’d dropped it near the castle. And then I heard your voice in my head. And I could see you, as clearly as though you were in front of me,” he explained. “I wasn’t quite in time to stop him from draining you, but he didn’t feed you, and we were able to transfuse you in the quinjet. Dr. Cho thinks there may be some side effects.”

“Why?” You asked. There were so many words, and most of them boiled down to you nearly dying.

“Steve was the only blood type match on the team,” Thor explained. “I, of course, am a universal donor to all humanoid creatures. Between Steve and I, we donated nearly four full units.”

“Side effects like?”

“It’s possible you may experience some serum-induced changes,” he hedged.

“And from you?”

“You were already kona í hjarta mínu. I’m afraid if those feelings were unrequited, they no longer will be,” he explained.

“Kona -” you trailed off, as the words suddenly translated in your mind. Your eyes widened, blinding you for a moment, and you blinked and looked back at Thor.

“Eilífur elskaðir,” you murmured. “I think I can handle that.”

#i’m Sorry #I’m still learning this iPad thing and can’t get the read more to work properly

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jinkisbelly · 6 years ago

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Oblivious - 1/2

Hello~ Pairing: Friends -----> lovers! onkey Rating: pg w/c: 2.2k Summary: Kibum is a high-end Jewelry designer that lives in the city, who’s best friend is Jinki, who owns his own veterinarian clinic and owns a small farm about an hour from Kibum’s place. Saturday’s are their weekly dinner ‘dates’.

The pencil made a soft, soothing sound as it shaded the sketch lightly. Kibum hummed quietly, right foot tapping slightly as he fidgeted, and a gentle sway of the classical music coming from the portable speaker sitting on the desk to his right. He’d clean up the sketches and scan them into the computer later, for he had once tried the tablet and despised the feeling of it in his hand. He enjoyed the texture of the paper as he moved across the parchment, the way a finely sharpened pencil felt as it’s line was pulled, and the way the eraser squished just a little when he used it to make a mistake disappear. He stopped moving the pencil, tip still against the sketch pad when the door to his office opened. Not that he needed it to in order to know who it was, all glass of the inner wall took away the necessity. He smiled easily though, “Hey, Minho.”

“There were donuts in the breakroom. I saved you a jelly-filled.” Minho slipped in, the glass door closing soundlessly behind him, and slid the donut onto the desk on it’s napkin. “That weird girl in accounting was eyeing it.”

Kibum softly snorted. “Well thank you for saving it from the world of numbers.”

“You’re very welcome.” Minho scowled for a minute at the sprinkle that fell on his white button up. “What are you up to this weekend?”

“Mm, the usual.” Kibum pushed his sketch pad forward with the tips of his fingers and placed the pencil along the binding. After wiping his hands on the damp cloth to his right he lifted the donut closer. “Tomorrow I’m going over Jinki’s for our weekly dinner. Gonna take Garcons over there for the first time, see how he fares against the chickens that guard the back porch.”

“You sound like you’re dating him.” Minho paused to lick his fingers of chocolate icing before asking, “Are you?”

Kibum’s boisterous laughter probably could be heard across the building. “Me? Dating Jinki? Hilarious.”

“Well, either way, I hope you have a good time.” Minho grinned as he stood, dropping his napkin in Kibum’s wastebasket. “I’ll see you on Monday.”

As the door closed behind the man Kibum scooped some of the jelly from his donut with his finger and as he ate it slowly he laughed quietly to himself. “Yeah.. dating Jinki.. Hilarious.”

-----

Saturday Night

The sun was setting on the horizon. The few cows were grazing up on the hill, causing a beautiful silhouette. Kibum stepped out of his car, small poodles following after him and causing a billow of dirt to flow into the air around their feet. He glanced around as he closed the door, the food he brought to make in the bag in the back seat. He spotted Jinki through the open barn door, rubber boots on his feet and his big silver bucket Kibum knew to be the feed for the horses. He looked away from the horse trying to get to the bucket when he heard the yaps of the dogs. The smile on his face spread easily, even with the dirt splattered on his face. “Hey! Is it dinner time already?”

“Yeah,” Kibum snorted when the horse, the nameplate telling him their name was Chu, knocked against the gate again out of impatience. “It seems you’re being too slow.”

“Just because you’re pregnant Chu Baby doesn’t mean you get special treatment. HEY!” Jinki stepped far enough away so his shirt wasn’t in reach of her teeth. He pouted, “You’re being an asshole because we have company, aren’t you?”

She whinnied in response. Jinki grumbled as he opened the gate and poured the oats into her pale. He was running his hand over her coat when Kibum quietly said, “But you love her.”

“She’s my favorite, but don’t tell the others.” Jinki grinned before stepping out and locking the gate behind him. “Let’s get inside. Garcons is picking a fight with the wrong hen.”

Kibum whipped around just in time to see the bird peck rapidly at the tiny puppy and rushed to scoop him up. “Oh baby no, no, not Mrs. Pots. She’s mean.”

As they headed out Jinki gestured toward Commedes, walking as far away as he could from the chicken. “They learn though.”

Jinki slipped his boots off on the back porch, tossing them onto the grass along the steps. Kibum had already dropped the slippers Jinki placed on the table down beside him. Jinki took the leashes from him so he could run down and get the food from his car. He returned just as Jinki was pushing open the door. “Yes, yes guys air conditioning.”

Commedes ran straight for the first cat bed in sight as soon as the leash was off his collar as usual. Garcons was a little more hesitant. He was just a tiny dog in a big new world. Jinki was leaning against the archway leading into the kitchen watching him slowly make his way into the big living room as Kibum carefully unloaded his bag. “I thought we could have garlic pasta.”

“Sounds great Kibum.”

“Oh and you already have the wine chilling, wow I love you.”

“It’s white of course it’s chilled.” Jinki hummed. “I think Garcons has found his spot.”

“Let me guess,” Kibum quietly spoke as he straightened with the pots and skillet he needed. “On your recliner?”

“Exactly. How the fuck did you know that?”

“He sleeps in mine all the time.” Kibum untwisted the bag of garlic. “Are you going to help me or lay with my dog like the last hundred times?”

“I help!” Jinki exclaimed as he turned away from checking on the pups and walked to the edge of the counter to lean against it on his elbows. He smiled cutely. “I eat everything you make for me. I make dishes easier.”

“Uh huh.” Kibum scuffed, tossing a napkin at him. “Wipe off the counter and go shower. You smell like a farm.”

“Yeah, yeah I’m going I’m going.”

-----

The timer on the oven was beeping when Jinki’s soft footsteps could be heard coming down the hall. His hair was still a little damp. He was wearing blue plaid pajama pants and a long sleeve t-shirt that Kibum was sure he had in college. The man perked up when he saw the garlic bread being placed on top of the stove. “Is that cheese?”

“No that’s bread.” Jinki glared at him, which was menacing at all as per usual, before grabbing a slice. He yelped softly at the temperature, breathing quickly on it to try and cool it down, before taking a bite anyway. Kibum crossed his arms as he leaned back against the kitchen island. “I’m surprised you even have any taste buds left with how often you burn them with your impatience.”

“Don’t make such delicious food and I wouldn’t have to.” Crumbs were falling out onto his lip and on his shirt as he spoke, words a little muffled from the mouth full of bread.

“You’re a mess.”

“Mm, no argument there.” Jinki put the rest of the bread on the plate on the right, knowing it was his by the extra cheese present on top. He grabbed both plates once Kibum placed his bread alongside his pasta. “You get the bottle Bum.”

He hooked his fingers around the two wine glasses carefully before curling his hand around the neck of the wine bottle, following Jinki out to his small dining room. The table only had places for up to four people, five if the squeezed, but Jinki wasn’t much for extensive visitors or guests… so it worked. Kibum popped the cork and poured them each a glass before taking his seat to the left of Jinki, back up against the white lace of his curtains that when open gave a beautiful view of the magnolia trees he had planted along his driveway. “Anything exciting happen at work?”

Jinki laughed a little as he twirled his fork in his pasta, “I own a vet clinic. It’s not a day until some type of pet does some type of bodily relief on me.”

“That’s not exciting if it happens all the time,” Kibum scrunched his nose, a little grossed out. Then he remembered the story Jinki was telling him on Wednesday and his eyes widened, “Whatever happened to that kitten?”

“Mm,” Jinki hummed as he finished his bite, “The underweight one that I should’ve put down?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh well, he’s in cat room.”

“Jinki~”

“What?” Jinki dipped his head, shy and embarrassed. “I had two cats, what’s another one?”

Kibum’s gaze softened, knowing deep down that the kitten was going to go home with Jinki no matter what. “Well after dinner you’ll have to show me them.”

“I have to feed him anyway!”

“Him, hmm? Have you named him?”

“Chip.” Jinki happily answered. “His front tooth was chipped when they brought him in so.. Chip.”

“You knew you were going to take him even before you weighed him, didn’t you?”

Jinki played with his food, swirling the noodles with his fork, cheeks a little pink as he mumbled. “I dunno what you’re talking about.”

“Mhmm.”

“Shut up.”

----

The second movie’s credits were rolling as Kibum drank the last sip of wine from the bottle. Jinki’s eyes were beginning to close, for he had always been a sleepy type of drinker. The tipsier he felt the warmer he was, and the drowsier he became. He tugged his blanket tighter around his shoulder as he shifted his head against the couch cushion to look at him. “Are you ready for bed?”

“Should’ve been like 2 glasses ago but yeah.” Kibum’s gaze fell to his lap, where Jinki’s eldest cat Moe was stretched out like he owned the spot. “Don’t think he’s gonna like it though.”

Jinki unswaddled himself to scoop the fat cat up off Kibum. “Come on sweetie. It’s time for bed.”

Moe protested, as expected, but soon he slowly made his way down the hall to the right, toward the room where his big meant-for-a-dog bed was waiting for him. Commedes and Garcons were sleeping in the cat bed under the table. Kibum knew that Commedes would be okay, but Jinki still put out a pee pad he still had from puppy fostering just in case Garcons needed to go. “I hope he doesn’t go on your floors.”

“With what’s happened in this house, it wouldn’t be the first,” Jinki paused for a minute gathering his blanket. “Or last for that matter.”

Their glasses and the empty bottle was dropped off in the kitchen on their way down the left hallway, where the master bedroom was. Jinki tossed a pair of pajama pants on the bed for Kibum as he went to brush his teeth and wash his face before bed. One thing that had come out of being friends with Kibum for so long was his skincare routine. He was coming out finished when Kibum was walking in, picking up the toothbrush that was left in the cup for him.

Jinki was comfortable in bed, hugging his pillow tight. His glasses were folded and placed on his table. He squinted to see him coming in. “I think tomorrow I’m going to make waffles.”

“Waffles?” Kibum echoed as he lifted the blankets on the other side of the bed. It had been a few years since Jinki had bought this house and made it his home, and about that long since they had made Saturday nights their dinner night. He could remember Jinki’s ludicrous tone when he offered to sleep on the couch when it was far too late and he was far too tipsy to drive home. ‘I’ve put aloe on your ass when you fell asleep at the beach with a thong on. I think we can sleep in the same bed.’. Even now when Jinki had a guest bedroom, it was the routine. He was fussing with his pillow as he asked, “Why waffles?”

“I haven’t used the waffle maker you got me in a while.” Jinki softly explained, turning onto his back to be able to look over at him. “Unless you want something else.”

“No, no, waffles are good.” Kibum shifted onto his left side, hands under his cheek, smiling as he gazed over at Jinki. “Goodnight.”

“Mm, goodnight Bum.”

------

While Kibum showered and got dressed in the extra clothes he packed, Jinki went to work on the waffles. After breakfast, he would go out and take care of his animals. He was plating the first waffle when he heard Kibum coming from his bedroom. He had a toothbrush in his hand, toothpaste foam on his lip as he removed it to speak. “I keep telling you that shampoo is bad for your hair.”

“Does my hair look bad?” Kibum pauses, mid brush and looks at him fully. Jinki’s hair is everywhere from sleep, a little frizzy even, and he just bursts out laughing when the man smiles from ear to ear at him. Jinki almost drops the batter in his hand when the toothpaste foam starts coming out of Kibum’s mouth, threatening to drip onto his clean shirt. “Please go fix yourself before my tummy hurts too much from laughing to eat my waffle.”

-----

#onkey #jinkibum #onew #key #shinee #oblivious au #Jinki got Kibum Garcons for his birthday a few weeks before #anyway the second part should be up tomorrow? but by the weekend for sure #I hope you like them being completely and utterly oblivious to each other #Like Jinki as a hard time connecting with people to a deep enough level to want to date them #kibum keeps finding things that are added to his deal breaker list. He has high standards #Jinki's last relationship lasted about two years about 4 years ago but hes happy in his life and isnt really looking for someone... or wanti #ng someone #Kibum is tired of going on so many bad first dates so he goes on what he likes to call his 'no dick year'#jinki questions him if that included trans men #Kibum corrects himself 'no man year."

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baronessblixen · 8 years ago

Note

25 :)

And I included setting prompt No.18 (also sent by @contrivedcoincidences6!) Set between Redux and Detour.

25. “What wereyou like? I mean before all of the shit we’ve gone through.”

“You’renot going to tell me where we’re going, are you?” Scully tries to soundannoyed, angry even, and she fails spectacularly. They’re in the car, whereelse, and Mulder is driving. He’s grinning that grin; the one that tells her heis planning something crazy, dangerous or stupid. Maybe all of it. He showed upat her apartment an hour ago, his feet shuffling nervously, asking her if shewanted to go for a drive.

“Is it acase?”

“No. Ipromise it’s not a case.”

She believedhim, dressed casually, and now here she is. It’s barely 10 pm and the coldNovember night reveals bright stars as the moon winks at them. Scully smiles upat the sky through the car window. If she’s honest, she doesn’t care wherethey’re going for once. She’s got all the time in the world now.Absent-mindedly, she scratches her neck. It itches sometimes, the small woundthat covers the chip. She catches Mulder glancing over at her for a moment.There’s a question on his mind, does she feel tired, is she really all right,and she puts all her answers into a contented sigh. Mulder relaxes his fingerson the steering wheel and nods along to an inaudible tune.

They remainsilent, comfortably sharing each other’s company without any words; none coulddo this justice anyway. They’re here together, neither dead, neither of themdeadly ill. For once the stars seem to be aligned in their favor. Any words,both seem to fear, might cause a shift in the cosmos, remind them that this toocould end soon; too soon.

“Here we are.”Mulder tells her as he navigates the car into a deserted parking lot.

“Where ishere, Mulder?” She gets out of the car and follows him. It’s quiet here,wherever they are. Walking a few steps, a huge sign comes into view: TheGreatest Carnival In The World! Come in and have your life changed forever!Scully turns to face Mulder, a skeptical look on her face, and he smilessheepishly.

“I didn’tname it.”

“What arewe doing here? It’s closed.”

“Only forthe general public.”

“Mulder…”Scully starts warningly and he dangles a key in front of her face.

“We’re notbreaking in.”

“Why doyou have a key?” Her question goes unanswered as Mulder opens the heavylock and leads her inside the gate. “It’s dark, Mulder. What are we doinghere?” She repeats.

“You’renot really patient, are you Scully?” He chuckles. He disappears into thedarkness for a moment and Scully stands there, nervously tugging at her scarf,until she hears a loud click and everything lights up in bright, warm colors.

“Oh.”Escapes her lips as she takes it all in. Small, carefully decorated boothsstand there frozen in time, abandoned, while teddy bears grin up at her. Scullycan imagine this place in daylight, in the early hours of the evening, when thelights come up and put smiles on children’s faces.

“You likeit?” Mulder’s voice is right by her ear; she never even noticed him comingcloser. His hand is on her arm, warm and heavy. Scully nods and the movementcauses her head to graze his chest. There is no reason to stand this close, shethinks, in this vast space. Yet, she doesn’t move away.

“This isnot why we’re here, though. I won’t win a teddy bear for you tonight.”Mulder’s voice is soft, but laced with something rich and deep. It makes Scullyshiver and Mulder, thinking she’s cold, draws her in closer.

“Comeon,” he whispers, his breath visible in the cold air, mingling with her own,“I want to show you something.” Mulder takes her hand into his andshe lets him lead her.

“Tada.”Mulder stops, but doesn’t let go of her hand. His voice sounds shaky anduncertain. Scully takes a step forward, dragging him with her as neither is readyto let go just yet.

“That’swhat I wanted to show you.” The carousel, an old, used beauty, beckons hercloser. Scully reaches out one hand tentatively as if a simple touch could breakthe carousel horses.

“Oh Mulder…”Her hand on the cold surface, Scully feels herself go back in time to when shewas a little girl always wanting to go just one more time, please, just onemore time. It had never been enough. Every go on the carousel made her squeal,made her want more. She gently pats the plastic horse; they at least haven’tchanged in all these years.

“You knowwhen you,” he clears his throat, “when you were in the hospital Iwondered what… I thought if it came to,” Mulder takes a deep breath andScully, without facing him, reaches out her hand and finds his easily like itbelongs there, “You were sleeping a lot… a lot more than you used to. Iwas wondering what I could do to… I didn’t want your last memories to be ofthat hospital room. I didn’t want you to think of government conspiracies orhow all of this was just not… I didn’t want that, Scully.” His chest isagainst her back now, his hand still holding hers, and she feels warmeverywhere he surrounds her.

“I thoughtwhat can I do? Where can I take you? And you know what, Scully? I didn’tknow.” His last words not more than a whisper against her hair.

“I didn’tknow where to take you. Because I never asked you what you liked to do. I beganto wonder, Scully… what were you like? I mean before all of the shit we’ve gonethrough? I didn’t know and I couldn’t ask you. How could I have possibly askedyou? I was desperate,” he chuckles against her and puts his arms aroundher, loosely, just in case, but she puts her hands above his, finally lettinggo of the carousel horse, “so I asked your mother. I would have askedBill, but who could know young Dana Scully better than her mother?"

Scully’s eyesdrift close; she is warm, she feels loved and safe, and his voice richer thanany chocolate, softer than any kiss, caresses her cheek, her ear, and her soul.

"She toldme that wherever your family went, you always just wanted to go to thecarnival. Your brothers made you shoot for prizes because you were better thanthem, always. Of course neither of them would ever admit that. You never neededanyone to win you a teddy bear, because you could do it yourself, Scully. Butyour mother said that’s not why you wanted to go there. No, Dana Scully wasobsessed with the carousel. You would use all your allowance and when that wasspent you’d beg Melissa to lend you money. Just so you could go another time.”

“When shetold me this, Scully… I knew this is where I had to take you. I knew you had tobe here more time. I wanted to see it, Scully. I needed to…”

“Mulder,I’m not-”

“Yes, Iknow. I would have been too late, right? With all this crap, with all mypersonal shit-”

“Mulder,stop, please.” He nods against her, breathes her in, and relaxes.

“I know, Iknow. But I thought this works, too. To celebrate. You can go as many times asyou want, Scully.”

“As manytimes as I want?”

“Hm.”He softly kisses her cheek. She knows he wants to kiss her somewhere else, makeit more, make it feel real, but tonight is not about that. A celebration, hesaid, and she turns around in his arms. Her smile is blurry, smeared by happytears that he wipes away carefully, his face a mirror of her own.

“Will youcome with me?”

“Someonehas to operate this thing.”

“Oh comeon, Mulder. Don’t tell me you’ve never chased a carousel horse,” achallenge gleams in her eyes and he nods, gives her a short peck on the lipsthat Scully is almost sure she imagines, before he lets go of her to turn onthe carousel.

“Getready, Miss Scully. We’re about to start the race.” Scully giggles andmounts one of the plastic horses. She giggles even harder just thinking ofMulder with his long legs and lanky stature attempting to get on one, too. Itstarts turning, slowly, with a soft squeak before music starts to fill the air,and then there’s Mulder as the carousel picks up speed. He’s laughing, or sheis, and he is by her side and they’re both flying.

#did not write at all this weekend #so today was the day #xf fanfic #msr #msr fanfic #it got fluffy #i feel fluffy #oh so fluffy #txf fanfic #maybe one day in the future i'll have something to do again at work #never give up on a miracle

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piecesofscully · 8 years ago

Text

Cancer Arc, Final: Bubbles in the Wind

This is the fourth and final chapter of my Cancer Arc Series.

Part 1: Mint Chocolate Chip

Part 2: Love Me Tender

Part 3: I See You

Author: @piecesofscully

Rating: R

Timeline: Season 4/5ish

A/N: Serious hardcore thanks to @kateyes224 for all of the love, and the uber quick and always efficient beta. You never cease to amaze me, boo.

I swallow a groan as I turn to face her, sleeping peacefully, just inches from me in bed. I move cautiously so not to wake her; it’s been months since she’s slept through the night. As I watch the slow rise and fall of her breathing, I convince myself that if I don’t look at the clock, don’t do the math regarding the number of hours I’ve tossed and turned, then I won’t know how much sleep I missed in the morning. Maybe I won’t feel as tired.

This trick of the mind is one I taught myself ages ago when nightmares plagued my twilight hours, when I began suffering regularly from self-induced insomnia. At times in previous years exhaustion has nearly crippled me, reducing my days to riding the caffeine influenced roller coaster of highs and lows until 5pm when I could race home and finally crash. Finding comfort in the last rays of sunshine, their glow washing away the haunted visions that kept me awake in the dark.

It’s not the nightmares, however, that keep me up tonight.

She jerks gently as she dreams, her legs twitching under the heavy comforter that lay over us, and I wonder how the hell she’s able to sleep at a time like this. My stomach has been a twisted knot of anxiety the entire day, and I found myself puttering around her apartment in an attempt to keep myself busy. To keep myself from thinking.

I stared at her, squinting my eyes in an effort to see through this facade she had recently donned, but was awestruck to find nothing but genuine calmness. When had we flipped the script? In the last 24 hours I felt as if she had grabbed me by the shoulders and spun us around; me landing in her position, crippled by uncertainty and doubt, and she taking my place as a bulwark of strength and encouragement.

“Mulder?”

I offered her a wide grin, one of the sanguine smiles I’ve had months to perfect, and forced myself to nod. “Of course,” I said quickly. “I’m just going to finish up in here, and then I’ll get dinner started.”

I could hear her nasally chuckle as I ducked backwards into the bathroom, and turned on the faucet to rinse down the blue paste that covered the surface of her freshly scrubbed bathtub. The sudden roar of the gushing water reverberated through the small space, drowning my smile with it. I watched, mesmerized, as it rushed in and immediately began mixing with the cleaning agent, blending seamlessly around the edges, making it impossible to see where one ended and the other began. They danced together like two lovers down the long length of the tub, spinning one last twirl around the drain before descending into their fated journey through the plumbing, to their destination of the unknown.

She kicks again and I’m startled from my thoughts, jerked back into the late night reality of the woman lying next to me and the worries of what tomorrow brings. Her breaths, still heavy and even, puff against my cheeks as I reach between us to graze my fingertips down her face; the soft skin of her forehead, her delicate nose, her plump lips, stopping once they reach her chin. I lean towards her and lick my lips, then press them feather light against hers.

If you’d have told me four years ago that I would fall helplessly in love with Agent Dana Scully who’d been sent to spy on me, to debunk my work, I’d have laughed and asked what your secret was to passing the bureau’s psych evaluation. It wasn’t that I didn’t find her interesting; she’d intrigued me immensely from the very beginning. She was the storm that I wasn’t prepared to weather, a force of nature that I’d received no warning of. She bustled through my basement office door and into my life reinforced with shoulder pads as substantial as her intelligence, an eager smile, and hair the bleak color of treebark in the winter.

“Agent Mulder. I’m Dana Scully, I’ve been assigned to work with you.”

The conviction in her voice and the strength in her handshake were admirable, but they weren’t able conceal the fact that she was guileless, green. In her naivete she stood tall with squared shoulders, ready to take on the ‘bad guys’, the monsters of the night, to find the answers that would right the wrongs of the world. I should have warned her of what was to come, of what she would likely have to sacrifice in hopes of righting those wrongs.

Her friends, her sister, her reputation.

And now possibly her life.

As her hand inches towards me and then presses itself flat against my heart, I can’t help but wonder if perhaps, years ago, she would have chosen differently knowing what she knows now. The simple thought of a life without her terrifies me, but what terrifies me more is what it says about me that, regardless of what’s been sacrificed, I wouldn’t change a day of the last four years.

I break the sole rule of my game and turn to glance at the clock.

3:05am

In 7 hours and 55 minutes her oncologist will explain to us the finer details of her treatment and their effects on the tumor. With his guidance, Scully will then decide if the progression is enough to justify continuing, or stop and let the cancer take it’s devastating, inevitable course.

Tomorrow’s prognosis will determine Scully’s fate, and thus, mine.

Xxxxxxx

2 months later

The toilet flushes and I watch as she emerges from her bathroom, her cheeks flushed pink like they’ve just been pinched. Her hand grazes the wall for support as she stumbles slightly, her knees weak as she crosses the floor to take her place next to me on her couch. The warmth of her emanates through our clothing, bleeding from her body to mine as she presses herself tightly against me.

“Everything ok?” I ask, and she nods slowly. I pull away from her slightly, running my eyes over her profile. “You’re sure?”

“I’m fine, Mulder,” she breaths as she runs the back of her hand lazily over the side of my ribcage.

“You said you wouldn’t-”

“Oops,” she says with a giggle. “I did it again, didn’t I?”

I nod. “And you promised.”

“But I am fine, Mulder. No nausea, not anymore. But I’ll make it up to you, I promise,” she says as she leans into my side. My arm settles around her shoulders, pulling her closer.

“Scully, given the events that have just taken place, I’d say your promises are running on empty.”

She giggles again, high-pitched and sing-song, and I can’t contain the chuckle that rumbles through my chest. If I’d have known that two bottles of the bubbly and a seriously low tolerance for alcohol had this effect on her, I’d have bought stock in Veuve Clicquot ages ago.

“What if I promise to play your flute,” she says quickly.

“My- what?”

“Fill!” She squeaks through her fit of laughter. Her head tips back as the chortle rolls into a full blown belly laugh with tears streaming down the side of her face. “Fill your flute! With more champagne, oh my god!”

“Agent Scully, I hereby declare you as drunk. Three sheets to the wind.”

“Three champagne sheets, Mulder,” she informs me with a slurring of her words while wiping under her eyes, her laughter dying down to sporadic snickers. “Or is it champagne wind? Like a delicious bubbly wind. Can you paint with all the bubbles of the wiiiiind,” she sings, slightly off-key.

God help me, I think as I watch her sway slightly to a rhythm only she can hear. In this moment, right now, I’m falling even more in love with her, and I didn’t know it was even possible.

“Have you ever heard a horse cry, to the blue cord mooooon,” she belts suddenly, this time severely off-key.

And I lose it. The laughter rips through me, exploding loudly from between my lips, and I’m suddenly light-headed from the lack of oxygen and the few glasses of champagne. She quiets instantly and turns to stare at me, her eyes shooting daggers from under her raised eyebrows.

“I’m sorry,” I gasp, clutching my belly. “That was great, Scully, really it was.” I sigh heavily and lay my head back against the couch as I struggle nearly unsuccessfully to gain control of myself. I can feel the tears streaming from my closed eyes down my face, dampening my cheeks that are twitching with soreness from laughing so hard.

“Mulder…” I hear her mumble. She shuffles next to me, and then I feel her weight suddenly straddling my thighs, her warm hands coming to rest on my shoulders.

“Mhm,” I hum as I grip her thighs, pulling her closer with my eyes still closed.

The tip of her nose brushes against mine. “I have to tell you a secret,” she whispers with a sudden urgency, her breath warm and sweet tasting against my lips.

“Your secrets are always safe with me, Scully.”

I feel her hands slide up slowly to grip the back of my neck, and I have to bite my lip to keep from moaning as she grinds herself against me.

“It’s been two months since I went into remission.”

“That’s not a secret,” I whisper.

I can feel her body shudder over mine as she tries to stifle a chuckle. “No, silly, but you’re still here.” She giggles again, and then pokes me in the chest. “Agent Scully is in looove with Agent Mulder.”

My eyes open quickly and struggle to focus on her face that is only inches away, staring back at me with a wide smile.

“Oh, is she?” I ask, a smirk playing at the corners of my mouth. They say that a drunk mind speaks a sober heart, but that doesn’t make this moment any less profound, sending my heart into a beating frenzy in my chest. .

“I have it on good authority that she is,” she says, her husky voice vibrating against my lips. Her eyes close slowly as she leans in to kiss me softly. “Tell me, Mulder.”

“I love you, Scully.”

She hums in response and grinds herself against me once more. Her lips trail lazy, wet kisses across the length of my jaw and I pull her against me once more, groaning at the heat radiating between us.

“Now,” she says as she removes her shirt and drops it on the floor. “Take me in the bedroom, and show me.”

Wrapped in the sheets of her bed, declarations of love are kissed along delicate skin of the neck, whispers of promise are elicited by the brush of fingertips. Our souls bleed together, blending seamlessly as we become one, our fates sealed together once more.

The End

#my writing #cancer arc series #final chapter #Bubbles in the Wind #msr fanfic

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marcos008-blog · 5 years ago

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Memories of Fifties Britain

EVERYBODY who grew up in Fifties Britain will have his or her own indelible memories of their childhood, from the first taste of welfare orange juice to the birth of rock’ n’ roll. The nation was recovering from the ravages of the Second World War and the camaraderie of wartime was still evident throughout the country.

Children waking up on Christmas morning in 1952 had experienced rationing of food and clothes all of their lives. It was quite normal to go without the sweets, biscuits, crisps and fizzy drinks that would be taken for granted by future -generations . Before sweet rationing ended in February 1953 the most prized thing in your Christmas stocking would have been a small, two-ounce bar of chocolate.

You probably didn’t get your first black and white television set until the late-Fifties. After all, only three million British households had one by 1954, with numbers increasing to almost 13 million by 1964.

But it didn’t matter if you had no television because you could play in the streets without the fear of traffic or the obstruction of parked cars. Buses and bicycles were the most popular modes of transport. In 1950 there were just under two million cars in Britain, with only 14 per cent of households owning one. The most-popular models in the Fifties included the Ford Prefect 100E and the Austin A35 saloon.

Many of us who grew up then have memories of houses that were draughty in winter with curtains hung behind the street door to reduce the flow of cold air and frost that formed overnight on the inside of bedroom windows.

Outside, the larger urban areas suffered with dense, yellowish smogs – known as pea-soupers – caused by fog combining with coalfire emissions. In 1952 a particularly thick smog shrouded London and caused the deaths of an estimated 12,000 people.

However, life was certainly not all doom and gloom. You grew up in a much safer environment than we can ever imagine these days. Children were able to enjoy the freedom of outdoor life. They played lots of rough-and-tumble games, got dirty and fell out of trees. The purple stains of iodine were always evident on the grazed knees of boys in short trousers.

We would also dress up like cowboys and Indians, wear holsters with cap guns and point and shoot at each other.

There was no such thing as health and safety or children’s rights. We were taught discipline at home and at school and corporal punishment was freely administered for bad behaviour.

There was no mugging of old ladies and people felt that it was safe to walk the streets. There was very little vandalism and no graffiti. Telephone boxes were fully glazed and each contained a set of local telephone directories and a pay-box full of pennies.

Youngsters respected and feared people in authority such as policemen, teachers, and park keepers, knowing that they would get a clip around the ear if they were caught misbehaving.

Home life was much different from today. Everyone seemed to have a gramophone, an upright piano and a valve radio in their front room and there were ticking clocks all around the house.

The kitchen was filled with products such as Omo washing powder and Robin starch and a whistle kettle was a permanent fixture on the kitchen stove.

Most adults smoked and there were ashtrays in every room, even in the bedrooms. Most homes didn’t have a bathroom so people would either wash in a tin bath by the fireside or take a weekly trip to the local municipal baths where they could pay to have a hot bath in a little more comfort. Toilets were usually outside.

We still managed to eat lots of wholesome food, which was always freshly cooked, and mums seemed always to be baking and though many of us didn’t have a fridge and went shopping for-groceries every day. Perishable foods were bought in small amounts just enough to last a day. It was quite usual to buy a single item of fruit.

On Sundays everyone had a roast dinner and leftovers were made into stews and pies to eat later in the week. In 1950, 55 per cent of young children drank tea with their meals. Bread and beef dripping was standard fare but we cringed at the sight of a curled-up Spam sandwich.

That was even worse than the daily spoonful of cod liver oil many of us had to consume.

Boys and girls played street games together, such as run outs, hopscotch and British bulldog. In the playground schoolgirls practised handstands and cartwheels with their skirts tucked up under the elastic of their navy blue knickers, while the boys played conkers.

We travelled in third-class compartments on train journeys to the seaside. In 1956 they were renamed second class. The change didn’t move you any higher up the social ladder but it made you feel there was a bit less of a social gap. At the seaside you wore a knitted bathing costume on the beach.

Do you remember Pathé News at the cinema? Going to the pictures was everyone’s favourite outing, with all those wonderful stiff-upper-lip British film stars such as John Mills, Jack Hawkins, Kenneth More and Dirk Bogarde and great war films such as The Dam Busters, epics such as Ben-Hur and comedies such as The Belles Of St Trinian’s. When the film ended everyone stood for the National Anthem and stayed until it finished playing.

For children the Saturday morning pictures provided the best fun. Every week, 200 to 300 unruly children would descend on a cinema for a couple of hours of film and live entertainment. The manager would regularly stop the film and threaten to send you all home if you didn’t behave and the solitary usherette was often forced to run for cover. It was controlled mayhem with the stalls and circle filled with children cheering for the goodies and booing the baddies. It introduced us to The Lone Ranger and Zorro and the slapstick comedy of Mr Pastry and Buster Keaton.

Dusty, old-fashioned sweetshops had high wooden counters jam-packed with boxes of ha’penny chews and other sweet delights. Remember Lucky Bags and frozen Jubblys and getting a sore tongue from sucking on gobstoppers, aniseed balls and Spangles? Then there were those old Smith’s potato crisps. The salt was in a twist of blue paper and you always had to rummage around for it at the bottom of the bag. All your one-shilling-a-week pocket money would go on sweets and comics (yes, we used old money back then, pounds, shillings and pence).

It was the decade of skiffle music with Lonnie Donegan and of the start of rock’ n’roll with Bill Haley, Elvis Presley and Cliff Richard. Did you know that Cliff’s first hit Move It is credited as being the first rock’n’roll song produced outside the United States? Other British singers such as Tommy Steele, Marty Wilde, Billy Fury and Adam Faith first came to fame in the Fifties. But while everyone now remembers rock’n’roll, in reality the record buyers were suckers for-ballads and throughout the Fifties homegrown ballad singers had -British girls swooning in the aisles.

I have memories of Bob-a-Job Week, as a Cub Scout, you lend a helping hand to friends and neighbours in exchange for a small payment, it ended in 1992 after concerns were raised over health and safety and child protection issues.

“Sex was something mysterious which happened to married couples and Homosexuality was never mentioned; my mother later told me my father did not believe it existed at all ‘until he joined the army’. As a child I was warned about talking to ‘strange men’, without any real idea what this meant. I was left to find out for myself what it was all about.”

It is hard to identify the Britain of today with how it was back then. The whole appearance of the country has changed, particularly in inner cities where so much building and development work has been done over the years.

The wartorn dilapidated houses, derelict land and bomb sites that were the forbidden playgrounds of postwar baby boomers are now long gone.

There was something cosy about growing up in the last decade in which most children retained their childish innocence to the age of 12 or 13 and enjoyed a carefree life full of fun and games. The stresses of adolescence and then adult life could wait. We were lucky.

1950s: what it was really like

It was an era when women stayed at home, a 9-to-5 job meant just that, workers had a job for life and nobody had a Blackberry to ruin their holidays.

When the Queen was crowned in 1953, food rationing was still in force, supermarkets were unheard of, and fish and chips were our undisputed national dish. How things have changed. But is our diet more healthy now than it was then?

Despite the challenges of rationing, family diets still contained more bread, vegetables and milk than children have today.

There was a succession of callers to the 1950s house. These would include the rag and bone man, a man with a horse and cart and a call of ‘any old rags’. The rag and bone man would buy your old clothes for a few pennies and mend your pots and pans when the bottoms went through.

The milk man came daily and delivered your milk right on to your doorstep – again he would take away the empty bottles to be washed and re-used. The local shops would also deliver your groceries, bread and meat, the delivery boys using bicycles to make their rounds. The dustbin men worked extremely hard, carrying the old metal dustbins on their backs from the householder’s back door to the cart and then returning them back.

Fear of Polio held a reign of terror over this nation for decades. But unless you were born before 1955, polio may seem to be just another ephemeral disease that has been nonexistent for years. Those born before 1955 remember having a great fear of this horrible disease which crippled thousands of once active, healthy children. This disease had no cure and no identified causes, which made it all the more terrifying. People did everything that they had done in the past to prevent the spread of disease, such as quarantining areas, but these tactics never seemed to work. Polio could not be contained. Many people did not have the money to care for a family member with polio.

I can remember the days before the internet, local radio, Sky Sports etc. The was no information on Saturday matches other than the results on the TV and radio starting at approx 4.40. (Matches finished much earlier then. They started on time; there was only 10 minutes half time; there as very little added time)

In those days the only match reports on the day came in the Green’un. It was delivered just after 6.00 pm and, amazingly, there would be people queuing in the shops waiting for it.

The reports usually had a lot of detail on the first half but next to noting on the second half. (Not surprising as the reporters had to send their reports by telephone at half time and full time)

The green-un and a pink-un. One printed by the Evening World and the other by the Evening Post.

1950s memories

* We walked to school, had open fires and no central heating

* we spent our holidays in the UK

* No bathroom just a tin bath

* The outside toilet, you wiped your rear end with newspaper

* Cod fish fingers produced in Great Yarmouth were introduced in Britain in 1955.

* Chickens were for high days and holidays only as they were very expensive.

* Rabbit was eaten a lot those days.

* Pickled beef was a favourite of our family back in the 50s. The beef would be chosen and then pickled by the butcher.

* cows udder served warm with brown bread and butter. Also pigs trotters cooked until the crackling and meat falls off the bone.

* It was always stew and dumplings on Mondays as it was wash day and it was easiest to cook and always fish on Fridays.

* Mums used to do their weekly baking on Saturdays.

* In the summer we always went blackberry picking so had plenty of jams and pies. Some families had allotments so soft fruit was available.

* We certainly ate dates, they were delicious.

* worms in apples

* We had our first television set in 1955

* Butter was also sold from a large block and the grocer would pat it into smaller blocks with wooden paddles.

* Very few cars, lots of buses, neighbours talking on the doorstep and helping each other and the mangle in the garden for the weekly wash.

* fresh fish…cockles, mussels

* REAL butter

* chicken was only eaten at Christmas

* no ordinary family had turkey at Christmas

* The Corona popman would come round on a Friday selling bottles of lemonade. You’d save up the empty bottles which were worth tuppence each.

* broken biscuits from Woolworth

* cheese cut with a wire from a large block

* coal delivered in heavy sacks by filthy men

* boxes of shredded suet.

* toasting bread and crumpets over a real coal fire

* fruit salad with Carnation milk

* home made rice pudding

* Stewed steak and Onions

* bread and dripping with lots of salt

* Meat and Potato Pie

* Fresh bacon cut on a slicer to the thickness of your choice

* Bubble and Squeak on a Monday with leftovers from Sundays roast

* homemade Jam in a sandwich

* ration books!

* Brylcream

* Sunday School

* Kids were still innocent and weren’t trying to grow up too fast.

* Very few people were fat.

* Kids rode bikes and played outside.

* signs in house windows that said ‘Rooms to Let: No dogs, no coloureds’.

* No fast food in those days, other than fish and chips!

* Pasta had not been invented.

* Curry was a surname.

* Olive oil was kept in the medicine cabinet

* Spices came from the Middle East where they were used for embalming

* Herbs were used to make rather dodgy medicine.

* A takeaway was a mathematical problem.

* A pizza was something to do with a leaning tower.

* Bananas and oranges only appeared at Christmas time.

* The only vegetables known to us were spuds, peas, carrots and cabbage,

* All crisps were plain; the only choice we had was whether to put the salt on or not.

* Condiments consisted of salt, pepper, vinegar and brown sauce if we were lucky.

* Soft drinks were called pop.

* Coke was something that we put on the fire.

* A Chinese chippy was a foreign carpenter.

* Rice was a milk pudding, and never, ever part of our dinner.

* A Big Mac was what we wore when it was raining.

* A Pizza Hut was an Italian shed.

* A microwave was something out of a science fiction movie.

* Brown bread was something only poor people ate.

* Oil was for lubricating, fat was for cooking

* Bread and jam was a treat.

* Tea was made in a teapot using tea leaves and never green.

* Coffee was Camp, and came in a bottle.

* Cubed sugar was regarded as posh.

* Figs and dates appeared every Christmas, but no one ever ate them.

* Coconuts only appeared when the fair came to town.

* Jellied eels were peculiar to Londoners.

* Salad cream was a dressing for salads, mayonnaise did not exist

* Hors d’oeuvre was a spelling mistake.

* The starter was our main meal. Soup was a main meal.

* Only Heinz made beans.

* Leftovers went in the dog.

* Special food for dogs and cats was unheard of.

* Fish was only eaten on Fridays.

* Fish didn’t have fingers in those days.

* Eating raw fish was called poverty, not sushi.

* Ready meals only came from the fish and chip shop.

* For the best taste fish and chips had to be eaten out of old newspapers.

* Frozen food was called ice cream.

* Nothing ever went off in the fridge because we never had one.

* Ice cream only came in one colour and one flavour.

* None of us had ever heard of yoghurt.

* Jelly and blancmange was only eaten at parties.

* If we said that we were on a diet, we simply got less.

* Healthy food consisted of anything edible.

* People who didn’t peel potatoes were regarded as lazy.

* Indian restaurants were only found in India .

* Brunch was not a meal.

* If we had eaten bacon lettuce and tomato in the same sandwich we would have been certified

* A bun was a small cake back then.

* The word" Barbie" was not associated with anything to do with food.

* Eating outside was a picnic.

* Cooking outside was called camping.

* Seaweed was not a recognised food.

* Pancakes were only eaten on Pancake Tuesday

* "Kebab" was not even a word never mind a food.

* Hot dogs were a type of sausage that only the Americans ate.

* Cornflakes had arrived from America but it was obvious they would never catch on.

* The phrase "boil in the bag" would have been beyond comprehension.

* The idea of "oven chips" would not have made any sense at all to us.

* The world had not heard of Pot Noodles, Instant Mash and Pop Tarts.

* Sugar enjoyed a good press in those days, and was regarded as being white gold.

* Lettuce and tomatoes in winter were only found abroad.

* Prunes were medicinal.

* Surprisingly muesli was readily available in those days, it was called cattle feed.

* Turkeys were definitely seasonal.

* Pineapples came in chunks in a tin; we had only ever seen a picture of a real one.

* We never heard of Croissants and we certainly couldn’t pronounce it,

* We thought that Baguettes were a problem the French needed to deal with.

* Garlic was used to ward off vampires, but never used to flavour food.

* Water came out of the tap, if someone had suggested bottling it and charging more than petrol for it they would have become a laughing stock.

* Food hygiene was all about washing your hands before meals.

* Campylobacter, Salmonella, E.coli, Listeria, and Botulism were all called "food poisoning."

* The one thing that we never ever had on our table in the fifties …. elbows.

do you have any memories of the 1950s?

Posted by brizzle born and bred on 2019-08-26 12:58:13

Tagged: , 1950s , UK , Memories of Fifties Britain

The post Memories of Fifties Britain appeared first on Good Info.

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blockheadbrands · 6 years ago

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The Best (and Worst) Stoner Cereals

Wilder Shaw of High Times Reports:

Is there anything more definitive of the munchies than a big bowl of cereal? We honestly don’t think so. It’s a perfect food, no matter the time of day. We think it’s high time we look around at the world of cereal and see just what’s going on.

Best Cereal in the History of Cereals: Cinnamon Toast Crunch

As you chomp down a spoonful of Cinnamon Toast Crunch, a river of sensations flow, dreamlike, across your palate: The delicate, yet precise balance of cinnamon and sugar; the flawless crunch of the toasted wheat and rice; the cold sensation of milk blended with a dash of nostalgia. Memories are triggered from a simpler time– flashbacks to little league, or school, or after 15 blunts. Every aspect of General Mills’ masterpiece combines to create a harmonious union of flavor, elevating you from the blandness of your normal life to a place far away from worries, strife, and away from trouble. The taste takes you up to the heavens, to the great beyond, towards light, to the edge of time and space, and into dimensions untold.

That’s what a bite of Cinnamon Toast Crunch is like.

Most Ingenious Idea: Reese’s Puffs

Reese’s Puffs, by all means, is cheating. Not sure how they got away with simply combining Cocoa Puffs and Peanut Butter Crunch, but they’ve done it — and they’ve done it well. Peanut butter and chocolate is a time-tested combo, and just like Reese’s candy, the cereal is nothing short of a grand slam.

Not Much Different than Eating Razor Blades: Cap’n Crunch

Cap’n Crunch is straight up painful. With every bite, you’re declaring war on the roof of your mouth. What’s the deal, Cap? Why does your cereal gotta be so dangerous? Surely there must be a way to retain the flavor without feeling like you’re eating a bowl of ninja throwing stars.

Best Mascot: Dig’em Frog

Dig’em is about as chill as it gets. He’s named after the way he feels about the very cereal he promotes. I have no choice but to assume Dig’em spent years trying to promote other cereals, but never really felt, in his heart, that they were the ones. But then Sugar Smacks came along (they’re called Honey Smacks now, for some reason) and Dig’em dug ‘em.

Oh, by the way, please don’t eat them right now. Unless you feel like getting salmonella.

Worst Mascot: Crazy Craving

What a true nightmare Crazy Craving is. The thing is fully rabid, and capable only of screaming, “ME WANT HONEYCOMB”. It’s like they managed to make Donie from The Wild Thornberrys even worse. Get Crazy Craving out of here, please.

The Chris & Liam Hemsworth Effect: Honey Nut Cheerios & Cheerios

No reason to sugar coat this (pun only semi-intended). Liam Hemsworth ain’t shit. Chris Hemsworth, on the other hand, is the dang God of Thunder. A great actor. A specimen of a man. Eyes like the sea after a storm. You may know Chris Hemsworth from such hits as The Avengersin which he plays Thor, or Snow White & The Huntsman, in which he plays the titular Huntsman. You may know Liam Hemsworth from such hits as The Expendables 2, in which he plays the character you forgot was in the movie, or The Hunger Games in which he plays the worst character in The Hunger Games.

The point is: Chris is Honey Nut Cheerios, and Liam is regular Cheerios. One is flawless, and one isn’t. I’m sorry. This is the way it is.

Biggest Sneak: Froot Loops

Froot Loops have been hiding two things from us for a very, very long time. For starters, fruit is spelled “froot”, which is despicable. Second, every single loop of froot that you eat is the exact same flavor. Very sneaky, Froot Loops. Very. Sneaky.

The Cereal That Even Weed Can’t Make Taste Good: Raisin Bran

If you make a food that contains raisins, and the raisins are the best part of the food, then guess what? I’m sorry, but you have made a bad food.

Biggest Waste of Potential: Oreo O’s

To this day, I still have no idea how this went so wrong. Oreos are incredible. Oreos dipped in Milk are double incredible. Oreo O’s — which contains an incorrect usage of an apostrophe — are dirty water trash, because they taste nothing like Oreos. Why did they remove the cream filling aspect in favor of tiny little cream filling-flavored marshmallow flecks? Whose idea was that? They should be sent to jail.

Biggest Dark Horse: Honey Bunches of Oats

Honey Bunches of Oats doesn’t really offer much in the way of an appealing name, but they more than make up for it with flavor. Do yourself a favor and slice up some fresh strawberries for your next bowl; it’s the stuff dreams are made of.

Most Overrated: Lucky Charms

That’s right. I said it. Lucky Charms are gross and it’s time we all admitted it. Maybe Lucky hypnotized everybody, because I legitimately don’t understand what there is to love about this cereal. Those soggy little marshmallows that taste like a stale version of meringue? Those flavorless bits of toasted oat that show up at a 75/25 ratio? The disgusting marshmallow milk that remains at the end? No thanks to all of that.

Most Underrated: Krave

Why isn’t Krave more popular? Originally launched in Israel as “Kariot”, Krave is a chocolate-filled cereal that never feels too overwhelming or rich. And if you’re one of those freaks who refuses to put milk in your cereal, Krave still tastes great without it.

Best Post-Cereal Milk: Cocoa Puffs

Cocoa Puffs is a make-your-own chocolate milk kit.

Worst Post-Cereal Milk: Fruity Pebbles

Fruity Pebbles is a make-your-own rainbow barf kit.

Best Replay Value: Alpha Bits

Alpha Bits are fun, and if you don’t think so you’re a narc. You can write your name, spell out all kinds of hilarious curse words, and a million other things. Just keep your energy light, or you might start thinking about Hi Dad Soup from A Goofy Movie, and oh no, oh no no no no, ugh, great, now I’m crying.

How Did They Mess it Up: Cookie Crisp

Cookie Crisp seems to have taken a page from the Oreo handbook, because once again, I don’t know where this went wrong. A bunch of chocolate chip cookies in a big bowl of milk sounds like a sure-fire hit, right? Then why is Cookie Crisp so spectacularly missing the mark? You’re better off just putting a bunch of those Trader Joe’s chocolate chip cookies into a big bowl and pouring some milk over the top.

Might as Well be a Basket of Sticks: Shredded Wheat

Shredded Wheat should not be consumed by a human being. Breakfast cereal is supposed to make us feel like a bunch of little kids eating sugar, not like a bunch of cattle grazing on raw wheat.

Best Slogan: Reptar Crunch

Hey, every single cereal company ever, have fun coming up with a better slogan than “He’s big! He’s green! He’s just in time for breakfast!”

TO READ MORE OF THIS ARTICLE ON HIGH TIMES, CLICK HERE.

https://hightimes.com/edibles/foods/best-worst-stoner-cereals/

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thegreenhorseman · 7 years ago

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…you sometimes forget to eat.

I’m about to go Fighting the Fat Kid Within on you in this post because human health is equally as important as horse health. We can’t do our horses any good if we’re not healthy.

True barn rats can tell you that time on the farm slips through your fingers worse than reins when you forget riding gloves on a hot day. You arrive at the farm and before you know it six hours have gone by and you haven’t eaten anything and you’re lucky if you remembered water.

I love this because I have a few pounds to lose but it can be detrimental, especially when you feel your blood sugar suddenly drop. Allowing this to happen can be very unpleasant at its best and dangerous at its worst. Nobody wants to be around hungry people. Neither do horses. When your blood sugar drops you easily get tired or confused and you might even get hangry. When dealing with half ton creatures you need to be physically, mentally, and emotionally clear.

Why am I bringing this up?

I have gotten into the habit of keeping a few snacks handy at the barn and in the car for those times when I run out of the house with horses on the brain and not properly planning for the day. I admit, it happens a lot on my days off.

What kind of snacks can I keep at the barn?

I discovered Graze a year or two ago and it has changed my life.

Please bear with me. I am not an affiliate of Graze but I do receive rewards through referrals. THIS IS NOT MY MAIN OBJECTIVE.

I want to make it very clear going forward that my praise comes from a truly happy customer who wants to share a surprisingly good experience with you. I 100% stand behind this company because of how relevant it is for us barn folks and many of our lifestyles. I would never sing praise of a product I didn’t support, it simply is not who I am.

Before I used to grab protein bars at the store. I have enjoyed several varieties, Quest being one of my favorites. Many are $1.50-$2.00 per bar and are often meant to be used as meal replacements…200 calories or more. If I needed a snack I’d have to either eat half (and rarely finish the other half) or have too many calories. Plus, energy bars get BORING.

Then you could get fruit snacks but those are full of sugar.

…Or chips but they are unhealthy and go stale.

……Veggies and fruit go bad quickly.

………and then,

…………GRAZE.

WHAT IS IT?

Like the Heart to Horse Box, Graze is a subscription program. I began by receiving my first box for free and it contained a number of snacks personalized to my tastes and preferences. Because of a nut allergy in my house I was able to trash all the snacks containing nuts. If I was going gluten free I could do that as well. In fact you can categorize your preferences by:

Vegan Friendly

Gluten content

Soy content

Dairy Content

Nuts

Bananas

Pineapple

Cranberries

Raisins

Chocolate

Spiciness

Microwave Required

If you’re peculiar like me and want to handpick the snacks you can go through each of the 100+ options and personally choose “Trash” “Try” “Like” or “Love” and each will determine the frequency of what you receive in your personalized box. Like the Heart to Horse box, however, Graze keeps each box a surprise while choosing from your preferred snacks. So you won’t know which of your picks you’ll end up getting but you’ll have a say in what they choose from.

HOW MANY SNACKS DO YOU GET?

In the subscription you receive 8 snacks. As my gift to you, Using my Code HTPPN32KU will get you a free box. Yes, you need to submit your credit card information but believe me, if you choose to cancel there are no gimmicks. I got my first box with the full intention of cancelling. I LOVED my snacks!

HOW MUCH IS EACH GRAZE BOX?

Anybody who knows me personally knows I’m frugal and hate spending money on stuff like this. I had 8 different unique and HEALTHY snacks. Each was sealed, tasted great, and decently portioned. I ended up staying with the program and pay $11.99 per order. Breaking it down you get 8 different and completely tailored to you snacks for $1.50 each. I was paying that for my energy bars!

With my code if you enjoy your first box and continue your subscription you will also get your 5th box free. This means your’e only paying 60% of the first 5 boxes….or 90¢ each for the first 40 snacks.

HOW OFTEN ARE GRAZE BOXES SHIPPED?

I began by signing up for one box per month. Because I enjoyed the variety so much they were gone within the first week. I then chose to order every other week. You get to decide how often you want to receive your order. You can choose weekly, every 2 weeks, or every 4 weeks. You don’t have to sign any contracts, join any clubs/memberships. All you do is sign in and change the frequency. No penalties, no fuss.

You may also delay a box. If you’re going on vacation or simply need one shipment held off, log in and snooze your box. You’ll get to choose when to receive the next order.

WHAT ARE SOME DRAWBACKS?

When I receive a snack I’m not particularly a fan of I have to go into my account to select “Trash” on that snack.

–>The nice thing is, however, when you go into your account Graze will show you the 8 snacks you last received so you don’t have to navigate through the entire catalog.

I also sometimes have trouble deciding which one I want because I’ve narrowed my boxes down to all snacks that I really enjoy.

WHY ARE THESE BARN FRIENDLY?

Most of the snacks you will receive in the graze box are ready to take on the go.

The snacks are healthy and mostly low calorie

Each snack is sealed really well so if you have a box hanging out at the barn getting dusty it won’t ruin your food.

HOW CAN I GET A BOX?

I mentioned earlier that my code will entitle you to your 1st and 5th boxes free.

Follow This Link and make sure to use code HTPPN32KP

This will help you out but it will also help earn me rewards so I can get more tasty snacks. It’s a win-win.

Have you already tried Graze?

How was your experience?

If you had a negative experience did you contact the Graze team and were they able to resolve you problem?

My review above is purely based on my experience with the company. They have always responded quickly when I reached out to them and have been very supportive. I look forward to hearing from you!

When You’re a Barn Rat… ...you sometimes forget to eat. I'm about to go Fighting the Fat Kid Within on you in this post because human health is equally as important as horse health.

#BarnRat #Food #Graze #Graze.com #Healthcare #HealthySnacking #Reviews #Snacking #TheGreenHorseman

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