#my country bumpkin upbringing showing through

[heynhay]

let's drive out

[youarejesting]

Sly like a... ? Part 2

[Master list] [Sly Master List] Beta: n/a (at the moment) Rating: All Pairing: Hybrid!BTS x FailedHybrid!Reader Genre: Hybrid au, fluff, action, adventure, angst, drama, slice of life. Some marked chapters will contain mature/smut scenes, BUT they will not have plot in those scenes and are 100% skippable without losing your place in the story. Words: 2.1k

Summary: Human’s strive to be better, faster and stronger looking to animal DNA. Thus Hybrids are born. As the rise for designer and Pedigree Hybrids increase, so do the failed attempts. There is one species scientists are unsuccessful in creating, but, folklore says they have been here all along, hiding and blending in with the humans for many millennia. How clever they are.

[First] [Next]

It was your dream to convert a large warehouse on the outskirts of town into a home and education center for Hybrids. Somewhere they could learn to be self-sufficient. You would have professors and volunteers, teaching and fundraising, all for the day you could buy another warehouse on the other side of town. You wanted it to become the norm that these Hybrid facilities would build and grow in every city. Allowing the Hybrids to become an independent race no longer looked down upon by society.

You were on the last day of your heat and craving something savory. As it was late your best option was the convenience store that was always open late.

Things were falling into place as you received an email earlier that day confirming that all the items you had requested were acquired. That meant school books, equipment, and more. You were also granted the first loan for the Hybrids, a loan you would receive every term. The board wanted no less than five and no more than ten participants for an adequate examination of results.

You assumed for the program to be officially approved, you would have to show successful results from Hybrids with different backgrounds during this trial. That meant different ages and different upbringings. Wondering if it was worth visiting the adoption agency or perhaps a Hybrid store, it wouldn’t hurt for more variables.

Shaken from your thoughts by a shadowed figure rustling through the garbage, in a dark alley between the antiques and postal office. Your ears picked up the sound easily, feet scuffing to a halt on the pavement catching the Hybrid’s attention. Their eyes searched the dark for any sign of threat before falling upon you, a deep growl resonating on the wind. It was best to not get involved with stray Hybrids, they tended to be more violent. This is what you were doing the program for, to stop Hybrids from ending up homeless and on the streets. To prove that they aren’t dangerous and are capable of learning.

Struck by an idea, if you could get a Hybrid from the street to join the trial program, you could prove they weren’t violent and show that given the opportunity they could all learn and grow into members of society.

“Can I buy you dinner?” You called out, voice cracking from the cold. Your breath puffed out like smoke visible between you both. The night brought you more energy, it made you feel alive.

Cars passed, their headlights illuminating the entire alleyway and reflecting in his eyes a blood-red. He stalked forward, his body moving gracefully but you could see he was hurt, his shirt ripped and there was a strong scent of blood in the breeze. That was a downside to having heightened senses. You tried to control the disgusted look on your face, “I will pay and there is nothing else to it, just sit and have dinner with me, so I don’t look like a woman in her mid to late twenties eating alone at a convenience store”

He looked you up and down, it was then you noticed his features, he was a feline, not a common house cat. No, he was a big predator.

“Do I look like some charity case? Some pathetic creature who needs help from a human?” His words rumbled from his chest in a growl. You wanted to correct him that you weren’t exactly human yourself but decided against it. Stuck somewhere between Hybrid and human you didn’t fit in either category.

“What’s it to you? My reason is my reason, just take the free meal. Hell! Exploit me for a free meal, anything you want, go crazy.” You shrugged, trying desperately to charm him. He seemed to contemplate his choices for a moment before turning to walk away. You scrambled for your wallet and grabbed out twenty dollars, holding it out to him.

“Wait! At least take this; if you don’t want to eat with me, get something warm, and here is my card if ever you need help.”

He eyed the money but didn’t move to take it. Hoping he wouldn’t rip your arm off, you grabbed his hand. You knew it was risky. His fingers were cold, but you didn’t want to linger and make him mad, quickly placing the money on his palm with your business card.

“Have a good night, mister,” He nodded confused about the whole encounter, before shoving his hands in his pockets and leaving. It seemed even if you tried your best, it wouldn’t be enough to persuade him. He was too defensive, the best you could hope for was that he would stay safe in the cold.

What trials and tribulations must you go through to have these Hybrids trust and confide in you? Hopefully, it wouldn’t be this hard to get through to the group of Hybrids you were soon to obtain.

This was going to be a rather difficult experiment and you weren’t sure if it was going to go well but you hoped with every fiber of your being that you would see this through for the sake of the Hybrids.

That night you dreamed about the group of participants being hostile and unresponsive to the program, it did little to soothe your nerves the next morning. When you received an email about the new house. Jimin would have the key and would meet you outside later that day with the other Hybrids. No matter who they were, you were going to make sure they were achieving the best result they could.

The government had registered two Hybrids in your name, their files attached to the confirmation email. The two participants were so contrasting, Hoseok was a deer Hybrid, from a small farming family. The other was a Lion Hybrid by the name of Namjoon. He was from New Zealand and had participated in another government program regarding genius Hybrids.

Altogether, there were four: Namjoon the genius, Hoseok the country bumpkin, Taehyung, and Jimin. You decided to look for possible participants within the Hybrid store, and rehoming center. That would give you a wide variety of variables for the experiment; each would have a different background and would require different tools to help them.

You started at the nearest Hybrid shop. There were several rooms each with an observation window, a photo card, and a brief description of the Hybrid sitting, reading or playing video games inside. It was such a small space, how could they live in these tiny rooms every day until someone adopted them. Reading their descriptions by the windows you analyzed each of them, your attention caught by one playing video games. He had dark ears that stuck out from his dark hair. He seemed fun and you thought it would be easy to connect with him.

Hello, My name is Jungkook, I am twenty-three and I am a fully vaccinated Melanistic Jaguar.

You didn’t bother reading the rest, thinking you would like to learn about him properly, “Sir, I would like to adopt this Hybrid,” You declared, whilst walking towards the counter to begin the paperwork. Once everything was signed the young Jaguar boy was led from his small room. He looked nervous holding a small store backpack filled with all his essential items.

On the drive to the next location, you were the one doing most of the talking, receiving quiet one-word answers and small fidgets. He seemed excited when you finally parked the car, you guessed he was eager to see his new home.

However, as you walked towards the menacing rehoming center, he grew quieter and quieter, slowing to a stop before the entrance. Looking at his feet crying profusely, you realized how this must look. He must have thought he had done something wrong, how could he think you would buy him and rehome him on the same day.

“Jungkook, I am not abandoning you, I am picking up a brother for you to play with.” It took a few moments to console the young man. Wiping his tears and giving him a few pats on the head careful of his ears.

Deciding anyone younger than Jungkook would be too much to handle. “You have to help me find a big brother, someone you think will be really nice and that you like to play with, what do you think? Can you do that for me?”

Jungkook nodded, sniffing and wiping his eyes on his sleeve. “Okay, I can do that,”

The inside of the rehoming center smelt like disinfectant, you explained you were looking for another Hybrid and were led to a large room. There were Hybrids of all ages all playing and entertaining themselves with different activities.

It was overwhelming even for you, so you grasped Jungkook’s hand and encouraged him to look around, “Hey, what about ping pong?” You grinned at Jungkook who smiled playing a few rounds with you, the two of you giggling.

“Have I told you I am the ping pong master,” an older Hybrid grinned, he had a striped tail. You handed over the paddle and stood near Jungkook. “Do you want to play a game?”

Jungkook nodded, was this boy unable to say no. Either way, the two were getting along quickly, the older Hybrid was very playful and funny, even as he lost you were holding your sides from the laughter and Jungkook seemed to grow really comfortable with him.

Talking to one of the volunteers she explained that Seokjin was a raccoon hybrid and the oldest in the center. She explained that he often took the younger hybrids under his wing. It was an easy decision to adopt him. While you were filling out the paperwork, Jungkook was telling you all about his match with Seokjin.

“And I got the winning shot,” He grinned, swinging his arm like he was hitting an invisible ping pong ball.

“He seems really fun, would he make a good big brother?” It was cute how he nodded wholeheartedly. “Jungkook why don’t you go tell him that he is coming home with us?”

He grew embarrassed again, his dark ears twitching but followed the volunteer nonetheless. You were quick to finish up the last of the paperwork before the two came back laughing volunteer in tow.

“Unbelie-Bubble” Seokjin said before squeaking in laughter. He had all of his things and like Jungkook was nervous, but he showed it through talking.

You felt good with your selection, there was a Hybrid for every walk of life and socio-economic background. This would be perfect for the trial. They all seemed like lovely young Hybrids and you could already see them forming friendships.

It was on your way out that you saw a familiar face struggling against Hybrid control. “This is your last time, you know what happens to strays.”

“Wait!” You shouted, everyone in the lobby froze turning to look at you, the cold room felt quite warm with all of the attention “He is mine”

They froze looking between you and the hybrid before letting him go curiously. The injured Hybrid staggered over to you, knowing this was his best chance at survival, “why didn’t you tell them my name?” you asked him curiously but he kept his head down.

“This white tiger Hybrid is yours?” The handler spoke in disbelief, practically accusing you of lying. “why is he not microchipped, or registered in our system?”

“I was supposed to register him last week when I got him but I had been busy with work, I would like to properly register him under my name today,” You didn’t break under this man's pressure, you could notice the more he held eye contact the more he seemed to falter himself. “so that you will stop taking him in when he is harmlessly walking the streets”

The man opened his mouth to argue but you blinked up at him, watching him lower his hand.

“I am so sorry miss, we didn't mean to cause you trouble?” It wasn’t exactly odd behavior, you often found your arguments nullifying this way. You liked to think that your self-confident stare was what made people give in.

“Miss we have just noticed some suspicious activity in your account it says you have adopted four Hybrids today,” The woman behind the desk said, “We are legally required to ask your intentions or we can detain the Hybrids from you”

Almost questioning her, you remembered the government was placing two Hybrids in your name; they would be arriving today as well. With a smile you removed a folder from your bag, “I have a grant from the government.” You said brandishing the signed document, “I will be placing these Hybrids in my care”

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[iwriteficsandmore]

A Little Piece of You

Oh shit, haha! Forgot to put a preview here. Hi! I’m alive! Have been busy writing for my other WIPs but wanted to get this out here bc I love you guys and also this was a cute af soulmate au. Thanks to @insanemarshmallow for the wonderful explanation of this chibi soulmate AU! Also god bless the settphel pairing of league of legends. It gave me the right amount of inspiration for a cute and angtsy oneshot :D

For a child, it's a wondrous thought the one of knowing you would one day find a soulmate. Even more so when you constantly saw it everywhere you went. People going about their lives with cute tiny versions of that one person that belonged with them and whom they were to spend the rest of their lives with. It was a fairytale on its own. One that became yours to live once you turned eighteen and that little piece of them came to you. It was a strange thing to see it happen, but just as great as you thought it'd be when a tiny version of your soulmate hatched from its egg. It had been born alongside you, a reminder that you, too, had someone waiting for you once you grew. You took care of that egg when young knowing how precious it was after hearing so many stories of happily ever afters. And now you finally had it. Alive. 

The first thing that came out of the shell when it broke were red feathers. They poked out somewhat matted and ruffled as it finally emerged and huge amber eyes met yours. His tiny hands ruffled his dark blonde hair back. Chills ran down him as he shook himself out of his stupor and traveled from his head all the way to his toes and tiny wings, sprouting at the end like a blown-up balloon. He was adorable. And the first and only thing he said was his name: Keigo. Finally, you had your very own soulmate! 

But...the experience of having a soulmate was tiring to say the least. 

You didn't know if it was just Keigo, but taking care of this particular red bird was a full-time job. Quirks were already a problem to deal with in and of themselves. But that the small part of your soulmate's soul could readily use those wings of his to fly all around your house was a bigger problem in itself. When you got him at first you thought about keeping him in a cage whenever you had to go out and couldn't take him with you. The first few times, though, you noted how sad he was when you came home. The way he clung to you every time you let him out and how those massive tears welled up in his eyes broke you inside. You threw that cage away after a week of having it. Having no place to keep him however meant that you needed to teach him to be careful. If Keigo wanted to be free, he needed to be careful lest he be taken away or hurt. Little Keigo didn't take that lesson fully to heart until after a little incident with a cat. After that, he would stay close to you whenever you took him outside with you. It took almost a full year to get used to him, but once you did, it was like you two had been together for your whole life. 

Little Keigo was fun to be around with, always enjoying the things you did with him. His taste for chicken got you to learn plenty of new recipes. He slept soundly with you, his little hands always cradling your thumb when he slept in the palm of your hand. And those feathers. You kind of figured what his Quirk was simply by the way he would control all those feathers on his crimson wings. Thing was that he would try to help you at times with things a little too heavy for him which was both worrying and sweet in equal measures. 

Sadly not everything was nice. Not long after he was born did you notice that he began showing signs of pain. Always different places but very visibly hurting. Like someone was hitting or hurting him somehow. You knew the wounds wouldn't show, but seeing him always tired and in pain for days on end would cause your heart to ache to no end. There were also times when his feathers would simply fall with no explanation. It wasn't him controlling them either. They would simply fall and turn a dark brown like petals falling from flowers. And in a way, it was, because when that happened, it would take several days for new ones to grow. Although you were saddened that he was grumpy and glum from being unable to fly, a part of you was also glad. Only when his feathers fell like that did he ever seem to take any breaks and rest. 

'It's your soulmate,' your mother said when you asked her. 'He's reacting to the soul bond between them. There's nothing you can do except wait it out with him.'

And it's exactly what you did. You never questioned it nor chastised him. You knew it wouldn't serve any purpose. Instead, you took care that Keigo wouldn't suffer anymore from your end than his counterpart was already going through. It still hurt though, seeing him hurting. But what stung your heart the most was the way that sometimes tears would just spring from him out of the blue. It happened during the middle of the night almost always and when that crying woke you up, it tore at your heart that you could do nothing more than hold him close and soothe that tiny part of his soul. 

A couple more years went by like that—sometimes painfully, most rather joyfully—until you figured it out. 

It was during dinnertime. Now that you were out of home and living by yourselves in a little apartment close to campus, it was usually spent doing exactly that, eating. But that particular day, Keigo wanted to watch TV. It's not something you did often. You were what they called a country bumpkin through and through. Though you had the resources, you seldom were on the web unless necessary for a task. You had a TV when you lived with your folks but aside from watching cartoons every now and then you never really paid it any attention. The one you had in your tiny apartment was one that had been left behind by the previous tenant. Just a small box with antennas that worked only when it wanted. Complying with his request, you somehow made it work, having it close enough for him to watch while you both ate. And it was while chewing through a serving of yakitori, you saw him.

Keigo. A much, much bigger version. And he was saving people and beating villains on network television. To say you almost choked to death would be an understatement. Keigo—your cute, little Keigo—was the Number Three Hero in all of Japan. The hero known as Hawks. Disbelief was what struck you first and hard. But the more your little Keigo, that little piece of him that resembled the hero to a T, pointed at the flickering screen with a larger than life smile on his face, the more you knew there was no denying the truth. But how? How had you missed such a huge thing for so long? Sure your upbringing explained it a bit. That your parents weren't big hero fans in general also added to it. But that could only hide everything for a little while. Maybe the first year. But for the last four?

God, you seriously needed to see an eye doctor from how damn blind you were. 

You were still baffled as could be when you and Kei went out to the convenience store if only to get your mind out of things. But there was no time for you to space out when, out of the blue, Keigo suddenly perked up and flew away from his perch on your shoulder. Utterly freaking out when it was this late at night, you chased after the fast little pigeon, turning corner after corner and getting more lost the longer you did. You dodged some random people who were on their late night stroll or going back home from work apologizing all the way as you chased after that little red fluff of feathers as quick as you could. Finally, when he was getting too far, you shouted his name in an attempt to get him to slow down. He turned a corner, you did too—and crashed right into someone.

A hand firmly grasped your arm to stop you from falling back almost instantly. You hurriedly apologized not wanting to lose Keigo. But when the person spoke up, you froze in your tracks.

"Y/n?"

Almost instantly, your head snapped upward and met amber eyes. Rather familiar ones at that with those delineations on those eyes. The name spilled from little lips almost instantly without you even noticing.  

"Keigo?"

A soft glow took both of your attentions and made you face to the side were a couple of little things were floating in midair. It was your little Keigo and in his arms...a tiny version of you. Both were giddily giggling as he spun them in midair with his wings. The glow that caught your sight had been the one they were emanating as they danced. A glow that, like you'd been told by your mother long ago, meant that you and your soulmate had finally found one another and were truly bonded. Out of breath as you were, it took you a second to finally turn back to the man before you. 'Keigo,' you reminded yourself. Before you could say anything, he let out a hearty laughter that reached his eyes as he took off the baseball cap he had on letting windswept blonde tresses fall over his face. Curious how on him it was a rather handsome look instead of cute. 

"Who would've thought, huh?" As he laughed again, he reached out his hand to the two tiny versions of yourselves. Your little Keigo brought themselves back to the palm of his hand, the two holding hands and bumping their foreheads against each other like little doves. "Y'know, I always thought the little you was cute. Never thought you'd be this lovely in real life."

"T-Thank you." Dumb, yes, but you had no idea what else to say. Your brain was fried after all these surprises in less than 24 hours! The No.3 hero—your soulmate—was before you, and it was far more than you could take at the moment. When you noticed him staring, it finally brought back some of that notorious self-consciousness of yours as you fidgeted in your own shoes. "S-Sorry! It's a bit of a shock to find you, well, here. Now. And god, I can't believe this is happening now when I just found out about you."

Those amber eyes grew a bit quizzical at her statement. "What do you mean?" You were embarrassed to admit that you barely had put two and two together about his identity which got another laugh from him. "Honestly, not surprising." He reached up to ruffle the little you's head lovingly as a tender smile came to his face. "You never liked watching TV or playing with my phone. I always carry a book with me because you like to read so much. I never thought it'd take this long to find each other."

"How long have you been a hero?" you asked, curious.

"Since I was eighteen."

Oh. That explained so much. Yet nothing at all at the same time. Wanting to start things again, you cleared your throat and stood in front of him as your little Keigo returned to your side, sitting on your shoulder with a proud grin. "H-How about we start again? I'm y/n, it's nice to meet you, Kiego-san."

Keigo chuckled as the little you returned to the safety of his shirt pocket, peeking out from under the flap with as wide a smile as his. "It's nice to meet you, too, y/n."

[kirishwima]

The RFA+V+Saeran with a female MC who is secretly a country bumpkin and they find out when they insist on a trip to visit her family? Hope you're safe and healthy, hon!

awe this is cute! Honestly, im from a really tiny island and a complete city girl, so this was a little hard to tackle, but hope you’ll like it regardless!! ^^

YOOSUNG:

*As much as he doesn’t want to admit it, he’s also a bit of a country bumpkin-sure, he’s an absoloute introvert who loves to stay home and play games, but if he has to go out, he’d much rather be in the countryside rather than the city-the quietness and the friendliness of people just lifts his spirits every time, and he’s actually quite fond of gardening and farming chores!

* He realised MC is similar to him when they got talking and he realised how much she prefers the countryside to the city-she explained how she was born and raised in a little rural area hours away from the town they live in now, and how moving into the city was a huge deal for her.

* Yoosung’s so excited? He asks MC about anything and everything, asks her if her parents work in argiculture (yes, they do), what animals they raise (mainly chickens Yoosung, she answers with a little giggle), if all her family lives in the countryside (nowdays no, it’s just her grandparents but her parents aren’t too far away)

* He decides they HAVE to take the next weekend as an opprotunity to visit her family. It’s not like he hasn’t met them before-they’ve talked frequently through skype when they check in with MC, and her parents seem to adore Yoosung-he’s shy but such a little ball of energy, she’s sure they can’t wait to meet him up close.

* So they both pack their bags, hop on a bus and spend the hours-long ride watching TV shows on their phones or playing online games together ‘till the signal weakens too much-a signal that they’ve arrived.

* MC sure wasn’t exaggerating when she said it’s a very small rural city-by the time they reach the bus station the roads turn from asphalt to dirt-roads, and he has already counted over 4 donkeys walking by the side of the street!

* MC’s parents were there to greet and pick up the two of them, taking them to MC’s grandparents place where they’d be staying the weekend-and Yoosung was THRILLED. MC seemed so happy to be seeing her grandparents, and they both seemed to love Yoosung so much, if the fact that they kept trying to get him to eat more food was any indication?

* He let MC guide him around, taking him out to the back of the house and into the big courtyard where her grandparents had planted fruit-bearing trees and vegetables, stopping by the kitchen coop where she remembered the names of every single chicken around.

* It was different from what Yoosung was used to, but he loved it-and seeing the smile on MC’s face, he loved it even more.

ZEN:

* Zen’s a city boy, through and through. He was born for the hustle and bustle of cars and trains, for the busy bustling life.

* So when MC’s parents called, insisting she and Zen come visit them on their next time off, she was perplexed-she wanted to see her family, and Zen seemed eager to meet them too...only she never told him where she grew up.

* She never mentioned that she lives in the countryside, how her parents have their own vegetable patch and sell the best lettuces and potatoes to big supermarkets-it’s not that she was embarassed of it, on the contrary she was proud of her parents’ hard work, but she had no idea how Zen would react to the idea of staying where there’s barely a decent phone signal for a few days.

* Well, it seems she was worried for nothing-when she explained the situation to him, he was thrilled! He packed more relaxed clothes for their trip, slacks and even farmer jeans he’d been saving in the back of the closet, that really...shouldn’t look as good on him as they did.

* She was worried throughout the trip, and Zen rolled his eyes as he held her hand, rubbing soothing circles on her knuckles. “I love you, and I love everything about you, your hometown included. There’s nothing to worry about!”

* And well, he was right. Her parents were so excited to meet Zen, they’d invited her grandparents and cousins for dinner, a huge meditarranean feast with produce they had grown and were proud of, and Zen was so happy to try it all and even help set and clean the table-her mother had taken her aside at some point, tipsy with wine as she whispered in her ear ‘don’t you EVER let this man go!’

* The next morning, MC woke up to find Zen wasn’t next to her-no, instead, he was out in the field with her dad, where he’d been doing all the heavy lifting for her parents-and seeing her man with sweat on his brow, his sleeves rolled up and a sack of potatoes over his shoulder shouldn’t be as hot as it was, but it’s Zen so-that’s a normal reaction, right? Right?!

JAEHEE:

* Boy....

* When MC’s parents said they’d love to meet her girlfriend, she was so shooketh-of course she wanted to meet MC’s family, but this suddenly? They’d invited them over this weekend?! She had no time to practice her reactions and speech and oh god, what if they hated her, what would Jaehee dO-

* “Jaehee, baby...I have to tell you something.”

* Jaehee’s mind went on overdrive. Oh no. OH NO. Were her parents going to hate her? Were they inviting them over to tell MC to dump her, is this what it was about? What MC wanted to tell her?!

* “Um, my parents-I was born and raised in the countryside. Our property is actually a house with a farm where we raise cows and sheep for milk and wool. Uhm, I just-I guess I wanted to make sure it’d be cool with you to stay over at this sort of place for the weekend?”

* Oh. Oh?! Is that all? Jaehee breathed a sigh of relief, turning to look to MC with a small smile. “Of course it’s alright MC. I’d love to meet your family and see the place you grew up at. I just...” she shrugged, a blush on her cheeks, “I just hope your parents will like me.”

* MC rolled her eyes. From the little they saw of Jaehee when MC skyped them, they’d already said she’s the best partner for their daughter-’the only one able to knock some sense into you’, her father has specifically said.

* Turns out Jaehee was far more of a countryside girl than she’d initially thought-she spent the weekend learning all she could from MC’s parents, meeting the sheep and even getting licked on the cheek by an over-excited cow, at which she laughed until tears formed in her eyes.

* At night, she sat at the porch with MC, a glass of wine in one hand, her other interlaced with MC’s. She was wearing a woolen sweater MC’s mom had knitted specifically for Jaehee, a ‘welcome-to-the-family’ gift as she called it, and it took everything in Jaehee’s heart to stop from crying.

* “I want that”, she said as she looked out to the starry night above them, far brighter than what they could see from their little apartment in the city.

* “Want what?” MC asked with a hum. Jaheee sighed, looking to the woman she loved, imagining the future ahead of them. “This” she said, “A life like this, for us-to be able to just hold each other and be proud of our produce and live quietly in the countryside-I can see how much you love it here and...I love it too. I-I love to see you this happy” she admitted.

* MC smiled, big and toothy as she leaned close to give Jaehee a quick kiss on the lips. “And we’ll have just that. We have the rest of our lives to plan it out” she added. 

* Jaheee laughed. “That almost sounds like a proposal” she grinned.  “Maybe it is” MC said cryptically.

JUMIN:

* Of course he had to visit MC’s family and properly introduce himself, as he’d be the one to marry their daughter. Despite MC’s concerns, he was the one to call her parents and introduce himself, explaining that he’d love to meet the family of the woman he loves as soon as possible.

* MC’s parents were....baffled, to say the least, and demanded MC explain everything to them-how could she be ready to marry this man when she never even told them she was dating him?! But she promised they’d meet him soon and they’d explain everything, so they calmed down, and said they’d expect the two to come over this weekend.

* MC bit her lip as she turned to Jumin as she hang up the phone. “Um, baby-I should tell you first, my family lives um-they live in the countryside. Is that...okay?”

* Jumin frowned. “Why would it not be? I want to know everything about you my love” he said, taking a step forward to take MC’s hands in his. “I want to meet your parents, see the place you grew up in, learn everything there is about you-it wouldn’t make a difference to me if you grew up here or the other side of the world.”

* With that, MC remained quiet, saying little else about her upbringing until the day they were to go to her family’s home. She saw Jumin pack his usual suit and tie and smiled a tight-lipped smile. “You won’t need those there. Rather...it’d be best to take something far, far more casual” she said cryptically. Jumin blinked owlishly but complied, taking out his suits in place of casual shirts and slack pants, as casual as a man like him could get.

* When they arrived hours later to her family home, he understood what she meant. Her home was in a rural area, bordered by green lush forest all around, and right beside it was a long stretch of a vineyeard, where they met her parents, a crate of grapes besides them.

* They were more than weary of Jumin at first, eyeing him like a foe-especially MC’s father, but when they all sat down for dinner and explained the situation to her parents, they started warming up to him. Her mother was more than pleased when he started asking about their vineyeard, clearly knowledgable in both wines and the different kinds of grapes there were.

* MC loved to see Jumin bond with her family, and was so excited when the next morning he woke up earlier than her to get dressed and head down to the gardens to help her parents spray the grapes to protect them from bugs, then going down to the small strawberry garden with her mom to pick fruits to make jam.

* Seeing Jumin smile with no inhibitions, standing side by side with her mother as he carried a crate of strawberries so MC’s mom wouldn’t have to do any heavy lifting....already she could see a life ahead of her with this wonderful, gentle man, and she couldn’t wait another moment to start living it with him.

SEVEN/SAEYOUNG/LUCIEL:

* He’d talked with her parents many times online, peeking at the corner of the camera whilst they face-timed their daughter. At first he was shy, barely able to stutter out a word to them, but eventually he was more than used to greeting them, even cracking jokes with her dad and talking about the latest gossip from the farmer’s markets with her mom.

* Of course he knew all about where she grew up-he hacked into all of that information the moment MC had stumbled into the RFA chatroom!

* He’s not really fond of the countryside-Saeyoung has so much energy as a person that a place that offers him little stimulation is borderline furstrating, so he never attempted even visiting the countryside before. 

* When he explained just that to MC though, she laughed, loud and bright. “Baby, if you want, just try and help out my parents with their daily tasks...I promise you by the end of the day you’ll be begging to just sit down and do nothing for hours on end.”

* Well, MC was....partly right. As soon as they arrived to her parents’ home, stopping a few times along the way as Saeyoung’s pricey sports’ car rumbled and complained on the dirt roads, he excitedly greeted her folks with hugs and kisses, telling them he’s ready to get to work.

* MC explained how he wanted to help them as much as possible this weekend they’d be staying over, and they were both overjoyed-a chance for them to relax a little was rare when there was both livestock and wide stretches of vegetables and fruit to take care of, and they’d take any opprotunity they could.

* So MC...barely saw Saeyoung the rest of that day. Instead she was content to let her parents guide him around, choosing instead to make some lemonade to take to all three of them on the fields as a little break.

* What she found when she walked out into the vegetable patch was an unexpected yet welcome sight-Saeyoung, a rake in his hands, farming gloves on his hands as he cleaned the soil and helped her mom pick out the cabbages that were ready for harvest, Saeyoung laughing besides her dad at one thing or another, looking like he belonged right there-it warmed her heart, to see a man that had been through so much laugh this bright.

* When Saeyoung turned to look to her, his smile shifted into something more private, his gaze clearly filled with love, enough to make her cheeks redden.

* Her mother walked up to her, taking a glass of lemonade from the disk MC held as she leaned close to whisper to her daughters ear; “This one’s a keeper honey. You better marry the heck out of him!” 

* And boy, looking to Saeyoung, walking towards them with his bright silly grin, his hair matted with dirt from the soil, his eyes crinkling with glee-her mother was right. MC would marry the heck out of this man.

-I’ll be adding Saeran and V soon! I just need some more ideas first so it doesn’t become repetitive, sorry ^^”

-send me a mystic messenger headcanon/scenario for character reactions!-

[zenyukifanficblogs]

The Fallen Blossom Act 01 - F

For the first time we’ve met, I was the well-to-do, introverted and lonely country bumpkin from Kyoto, following my best friend Mina to South Korea, in hopes to pursuing beyond what I have always knew.

You were literally what I thought to be the guy that every girl in the world will dream for. You were handsome, kind, talented though as introverted as I am.

Like what Mina say, I did meet my match for being an introvert and this match that I have met is no other than you, Lee Jihoon.

When I struggled a lot with dance, you’ve helped me a huge hand. You see, I knew nothing about dance.

All I know about dance then was through learning it every weekend in school as an extra-circular activity.

I mean, what’s so great right to pick up a couple of lessons from a school in countryside Kyoto and call dancing genius right?

Those memories with you were one of THE very best. You maybe strict but still approachable, very different.

Yet, I never felt that comfortable before with somebody besides the people that I know.

I ended up learning a lot from you even after Soonyoung joined the company. Honestly, I do admit, I felt scared for a bit cause you were always heating up whenever you saw him practicing.

I am truly happy when you eventually warm up to him and accepted him as part of us.

I truly am, the few months between laying low learning from you and making Soonyoung feel welcomed in the company, the effort was a worthwhile.

Even if what I said next may sound like I’m talking a lot of crap, I wasn’t once mad at you whenever you get mad at me.

I truly thought maybe you will feel better, at least, getting your anger out like that. I still wish like that the past few times we fought.

I was wrong…I really was…I only just ran out to not let you see the tears I’ve shed for you.

I don’t like showing my tears, I know you will find it stupid still but I am just not used to showing my weak side because of my upbringing.

Especially when one of the reasons of my weak side is nobody else but you…Lee Jihoon

[mdye]

[Editor’s note: Nixon biographer John A. Farrell wrote this comparison of the two presidents in February — well before the firing of FBI Director James Comey. It is reposted here with only light edits.]

We’re barely into the Trump administration and we’ve had war on the press, electronic eavesdropping, a sacked attorney general, humongous demonstrations, fury over a Democratic National Committee break-in, Cold War­­–style skirmishes, and scandalous intrigues akin to Watergate.

Sound familiar?

“Imagine packing 6 yrs of the Nixon admin into 3 weeks,” tweeted Nicole Hemmer, a scholar from the University of Virginia’s Miller Center (and Vox columnist), in February. “It’s like Nixon speed-dating.”

Veteran hands like Dan Rather, Bill Moyers, John Dean, and William Kristol have joined youngsters like Rachel Maddow in drawing parallels between Richard Nixon and Donald Trump.

As the author of a new biography of Nixon, I get asked — a lot — how I plotted the book’s release to coincide with the surge in discussion, in the press and social media, of similarities between the disgraced 37th president of the United States and his latest successor, Donald Trump.

Having lived the past six years with Nixon in my head (I seek no pity; just buy the book), I approach the idea of comparing the two leaders with caution and restraint, for there are important differences.

As bad as Nixon was, for example, he never embraced white nationalists, much less sat one on his National Security Council. Nixon supported every major civil rights bill in the 1960s, and may have lost the 1962 gubernatorial election in California as a result of his spirited denunciation of the John Birch Society, the alt-right wack jobs of their day. “It was time to take on the lunatic fringe,” he wrote to Dwight Eisenhower.

Which is not to cast Tricky Dick as a saint. Fallacious comparisons cut both ways. When Trump dismissed acting Attorney General Sally Yates, a Justice Department holdover from the previous administration, for declining to defend his executive order on immigration, the episode was immediately compared to Nixon’s “Saturday Night Massacre.” But Trump’s move hardly rates with Nixon’s. The stakes were far higher in 1973, with war in the Middle East, a nuclear alert, and the resignation of a corrupt vice president as a backdrop. Nixon’s own attorney general and his successor resigned over principle after refusing to fire the Watergate special prosecutor, before Solicitor General Robert Bork stepped in to do the deed.

So restraint keeps me from overstating the echoes. But then Trump will produce a performance like his rambling, combative February 16 press conference (“Russia is fake news!”) so rich with “narcissism, thin skin and deeply personal grievances,” as NBC’s Brian Williams put it, that the analogies with Nixon’s piteous “last press conference” of 1962, or his Watergate-era clashes with the media, are insistent and appropriate.

And finally, perhaps inevitably, Trump himself joined the game: He alleged that Barack Obama had bugged Trump Tower in an act worthy of “Nixon/Watergate.” (You want to see your book sales leap on Amazon? Have POTUS tweet your topic.)

Why is Nixon the go-to model for presidential misbehavior? For one thing, he is deeply embedded in our lives and culture. The only president to resign in disgrace was famously polarizing long before Watergate. This red-baiter from Southern California was the point man for McCarthyism, earning the eternal enmity of postwar liberals.

In the swinging ’60s, he was the stodgy self-made man: the square in the age of hip. As such, Nixon was a model for Mad Men’s Don Draper and, after stretching out the Vietnam War for four additional years, his reign helped inspire the evil Galactic Empire in Star Wars (according to George Lucas). He may not be the subject of a hip-hop Broadway musical, but he has served as the central figure in an opera (Nixon in China) and played the villain in the X-Men and Watchmen movies.

Andrew Caballero-Reynolds / Getty It took Nixon a while to provoke protests like these. On the other hand, some two-thirds of the current American population were either not alive or not residents of the United States, when Nixon resigned in 1974. In my Nixon biography, and in what follows, I’ve tried to portray this oft-caricatured scoundrel, in all his glories, for Gen X-ers and millennials who may know him only as the disembodied head on Futurama.

Thinking through the points of similarity between Nixon and Trump, and where they differ, may help us to better understand both men.

Psychobiography — correlation: modest

The differences in their upbringing — Trump came from a wealthy home in New York, Nixon from the California outback and a family wracked by illness, death, and poverty — make any comparison between the two men on this score somewhat strained. Yet both are known for self-centered, narcissistic personalities — and these, perhaps were sired by the emotional austerity of their childhoods. Trump exhibits insecurity, harbors grandiose fantasies, and shows a tetchiness about criticism. So did Nixon.

The Nixon home was known for its physical and emotional severity. Frank Nixon was a crotchety and abusive dad described, by a nephew, as “a highly acquisitive person and a slave driver” who “worked all his children and he worked his wife.” Nixon’s mother, Hannah, a devout Quaker, gave the future president his sense of idealism: He really did want to bring peace to the world. But she was preoccupied with his four brothers, two of whom died as youths, and the demands of the family store. Dick craved her approval, but she never, as Nixon famously confessed, told him that she loved him.

Historians tread lightly when it comes to psychobiography, but Nixon’s career “vindicates one of that maligned genre’s most trustworthy findings: The recipe for a successfully driven politician should include a doting mother to convince the son he can accomplish anything, and an emotionally distant father to convince the son that no accomplishment can ever be enough,” wrote Rick Perlstein in Nixonland.

Much of that may apply to Trump. As biographers Michael Kranish and Marc Fisher describe him in their book, Trump Revealed, the president’s father, Fred Trump, was also a disciplinarian, a workaholic, and a skinflint. At 13, Donald was culled from his family and exiled to military school as a disciplinary remedy. It may not be unreasonable to suggest that, like Nixon, Trump has spent his life seeking to fill an emotional void.

The press — correlation: high

It is no accident that both Nixon and Trump are famous for waging war beyond reason with the press. In men with their backgrounds, criticism may be interpreted as rejection, ripping the scabs from old psychic wounds and inducing emotional pain and hostility.

It’s also no small irony that each was quite successful at courting the press in their early years. Nixon was a protégé of the Chandler family, which owned the then-right-wing Los Angeles Times and promoted Nixon’s career through the simple tactic of imposing news blackouts on his opponents. Trump was a dealmaking playboy in New York’s tabloid jungle. The experiences left both men spoiled by the media’s fawning, cynical about its professed values, and reckless with the truth.

Mark Wilson / Getty Trump surveys the “enemy of the people.” Trump’s well-documented disregard for veracity was well matched by Nixon’s: He lied repeatedly about Vietnam and Watergate as president. When announcing that he was dispatching troops to invade Cambodia, Nixon solemnly assured the nation that the US had been scrupulous, to that point, in observing that poor country’s neutrality. In fact, he had been bombing Cambodia, secretly, for a year.

Nixon was as brash about his lying as Trump. On one occasion, when he thought the camera had stopped filming, Nixon told an interviewer how he had inserted a crude obscenity into a quote from Lyndon Johnson, because it made for a more colorful story — and portrayed Johnson as a vulgar bumpkin. When his aides could not find the chopsticks he used during his famous trip to China, Nixon told them to use any pair for a museum display, as the public would never know the difference.

Striving to maintain control, Trump rages over leaks. Nixon, too, confessed to being “paranoid” about leakers, and famously declared: “The press is the enemy.” Trump has friends in some corners of the media, and his declaration of war may be cynical and manipulative. For Nixon, the hate was real.

Trump, erupting in nocturnal tweets — emissions quite similar to those captured on Nixon’s White House tapes, except that they are instantaneously blasted out to tens of millions of Twitter fans — has taken it further. The press is not just his enemy, he tweeted, but the “enemy of the American people.”

Their politics — correlation: modest

Trump and Nixon both rode the politics of grievance — particularly white grievance — to the White House.

“I am your voice,” Trump told the disaffected electorate of the South, West, and Midwest, who responded by giving him an Electoral College majority. In his speeches, Trump called for the return of “law and order,” just like Nixon in 1968. “The silent majority is back,” Trump said, identifying his voters precisely as Nixon did. “We are going to take the country back.”

The division between coastal elites and the heartland is a hardy theme in American political history — the tension between frontier farmers and the Founding Fathers led to open rebellions in 1787 and 1791. In crises, the country draws together, then the old divisions reemerge in times of peace.

The gulf yawned after World War I, when the carnage of industrial warfare and the doctrines of scientific and moral relativity inspired a fundamentalist response in the midlands. Americans came together during the Second World War, but the rifts reappeared thereafter. In 1946, a young Navy veteran, running as a Republican, unseated a New Deal Congress member in rural California with a campaign that promised, “Richard Nixon Is One of Us” — not one of the pointy-headed pinko elitists running things in Washington.

Arriving in Washington, as a member of the House Committee on Un-American Activities, Rep. Nixon embraced journalist Whittaker Chambers, a reformed communist agent, and went to war with the establishment by identifying one of the New Deal’s golden lads, the former diplomat Alger Hiss, as a Soviet spy.

It was “an epitomizing drama,” Chambers wrote in his memoir Witness, a book that would become a bible for the conservative movement. There was “a jagged fissure” between “the plain men and women of the nation and those who affected to act, think and speak for them … from their roosts in the great cities, and certain collegiate eyries.” The left “controlled the narrows of news and opinion,” Chambers wrote, but “my people, humble people, strong in common sense, in common goodness” were led and inspired by Nixon — “the kind and good.”

Nixon used the Hiss case as a launchpad to the Senate, and then to a spot as Eisenhower’s running mate. He survived a brush with scandal over a campaign slush fund filled by wealthy businessmen with a now-legendary televised address, in which he made memorably mawkish mention of his mortgage, his wife’s cloth coat, and the family cocker spaniel, Checkers.

“The sophisticates … sneer,” wrote columnist Robert Ruark, but Nixon’s speech “came closer to humanizing the Republican Party than anything that has happened in my memory. … Tuesday night the nation saw a little man, squirming his way out of a dilemma, and laying bare his most private hopes, fears and liabilities. This time the common man was a Republican.”

That was 1952. Long before the ’60s, the culture war was raging. The ’50s were “the Nixon years,” columnist Murray Kempton would write, when “the American lower middle class in the person of this man moved to engrave into the history of the United States, as the voice of America, its own faltering spirit, its self-pity and its envy, its continual anxiety about what the wrong people might think, its whole peevish resentful whine.” And so Trump and his legions follow Nixon down a well-worn path in American politics.

However, there is one significant difference in how Nixon and Trump got elected. As circumstances had it, in all three of Nixon’s campaigns for the presidency —against John Kennedy’s “New Frontier” in 1960, amid the chaos of 1968, and against George McGovern in 1972 — he ran as the candidate of moderation, of calm and experience. His speeches were generally soothing.

A young Navy officer named Bob Woodward cast his vote for Nixon, convinced he was the candidate who could end the Vietnam War. Even Hunter S. Thompson bought in.

“For years I’ve regarded his very existence as a monument to all the rancid genes and broken chromosomes that corrupt the possibilities of the American Dream; he was a foul caricature of himself, a man with no soul, no inner convictions, with the integrity of a hyena and the style of a poison toad,” Thompson wrote in 1968. But “the ‘new Nixon’ is more relaxed, wiser, more mellow.” Nixon’s were campaigns, as the political scientists Richard Scammon and Ben Wattenberg put it, of “social stolidity.”

Trump is anything but stolid.

Monkey-wrenched elections — correlation: high?

It is a testament to the efficacy of the Republican cover-up that four months after a foreign power affected — may even have determined — the outcome of an American presidential election, we still don’t know the facts. The timidity of the electorate, permitting Congress to let this pivotal question go unanswered, is stunning.

Ira Gay Sealy / Getty Anna Chennault was Nixon’s secret liaison with the South Vietnamese government before the 1968 election. The extent of President Trump’s possible contacts with a foreign government before the 2017 election has come under scrutiny.

From what we do know, it is safe to say that the Russians sought to influence the outcome of the 2016 election, in favor of Donald Trump. We don’t know how or if he and his advisers, in contacts with Russian officials, acted to further the illegal hacking of Democratic organizations and officials. We know that Trump publicly encouraged the Russians to do so (though whether this was a serious request or a glib comment is debatable). This has been written off, like several such misdeeds, as “Trump being Trump.”

In Nixon’s case, it has taken almost half a century for the truth to come out about the 1968 election — about his own conspiring with a foreign power, and the steps that he took to affect that year’s outcome.

Nixon feared that Lyndon Johnson’s election year initiative to negotiate an agreement that would bring an end to the Vietnam War was nothing more than an “October Surprise” designed to elect Vice President Hubert Humphrey. (LBJ had pulled such a trick in the off-year elections of 1966.) And so Nixon employed a campaign official, Anna Chennault, to act as a go-between and persuade South Vietnam to drag its feet and scuttle peace talks with North Vietnam. He — and she — promised the South Vietnamese better terms if Nixon won.

Tragically, peace was indeed close at hand in 1968. The Soviet Union, wanting to promote Humphrey, had promised Johnson a “breakthrough” in the talks and vowed to pressure North Vietnam. But Nixon’s attempts to monkey-wrench the talks were successful. In a telephone call to Sen. Everett Dirksen, a bitter LBJ, who had been getting details of Nixon’s machinations from electronic eavesdropping conducted by US intelligence agencies, accused Nixon of “treason.”

(Trump has offered no evidence for his claim that his campaign was “tapped” by President Barack Obama last fall, but there is no doubt that LBJ was eavesdropping on Chennault, a Nixon campaign official, in her discussions with the South Vietnamese Embassy in Washington.)

There is a law — the Logan Act — that makes it illegal for a private citizen to interfere in the foreign affairs and diplomacy of the United States. Nixon appears to have crossed that line; without more facts, we cannot say that Trump did too.

The deep state — correlation: modest

Like Julius Caesar, cut down by Brutus and a gang of conspirators, Richard Nixon fell victim to a coalition of mutinous forces. He had clashed repeatedly with Congress over its power to declare war, to appropriate funds, and to have access to presidential documents and tapes. He declared war on the press. His antipathy for the State Department, the CIA, the military brass, and other power centers was well-known, and his reliance on backchannel diplomacy with China and the USSR spurred the Joint Chiefs of Staff to plant a spy in the White House. Nixon may also have alienated the federal judiciary by pledging to end its lifelong terms and security.

How low has President Obama gone to tapp my phones during the very sacred election process. This is Nixon/Watergate. Bad (or sick) guy! — Donald J. Trump (@realDonaldTrump) March 4, 2017

The FBI offers an instructive test case on what Nixon’s rash antipathy yielded. Nixon had come to power in Washington with the help of Director J. Edgar Hoover, but after Hoover died, the president provoked the bureau by trying to install a Nixon loyalist as a replacement. “Deep Throat” — the legendary anonymous source for Washington Post reporters Carl Bernstein and Bob Woodward — was Mark Felt, a deputy director that Nixon passed over when choosing Hoover’s successor.

Trump has been tormented by leaks he blames on Obama holdovers in the national security agencies and other entrenched bureaucracies. Trump profited during the campaign from FBI Director James Comey’s eleventh-hour revelation about Hillary Clinton’s emails. But Comey was reportedly outraged by Trump’s allegation that Obama tapped Trump’s headquarters during the campaign and, according to leaks, demanded a public repudiation of the imputation. (And now, of course, Comey has been fired.)

Scandals — correlation: to be determined

There are more than half a million responses to a Google search for Trump and Watergate. But as much as his critics hope to see the 45th president exit the White House like Nixon, we have a long way to go before “Russiagate” is reasonably equated to Watergate.

There are obvious parallels. Both scandals stem from break-ins at the Democratic Party headquarters, whether real or virtual. Both involve electronic eavesdropping. And credit must be given to Roger Stone, a minor figure in the Watergate wars, who managed to survive the decades since and surface once more in the Russiagate stew.

Yet Nixon had years to dig his grave, and the Watergate scandals were, as Woodward and Bernstein famously wrote, “a massive campaign of political spying and sabotage.”

The DNC headquarters at the Watergate were one of a half-dozen targets for burglary and/or bugging, including the campaign headquarters of Sens. Edmund Muskie and George McGovern and the offices of the psychiatrist who treated Daniel Ellsberg, leaker of the Pentagon Papers. By the time Nixon resigned, Watergate was a vast umbrella. The scandal brought to light subsidiary issues — like whether Nixon shortchanged the Treasury on his income taxes, and used taxpayer funds to protect and improve his Florida vacation home — that have obvious correspondence to Trump’s behavior.

But there will have to be some remarkable revelations — proof that Trump and his aides offered inducements to the Russian hackers — before Russiagate can be compared to Watergate. On the other hand, if it is proven that the Trump campaign, in league with a foreign power, stole the White House, it could supplant Watergate as the greatest political scandal of them all.

John A. Farrell is the author of Richard Nixon: The Life, which is being published March 28.

The Big Idea is Vox’s home for smart, often scholarly excursions into the most important issues and ideas in politics, science, and culture — typically written by outside contributors. If you have an idea for a piece, pitch us at thebigidea@vox.com.

[katiezstorey93]

Real Weddings: Fallyn & Grant’s Old World Wedding Features an Owl Ring Bearer

Fallyn and Grant were married at the Lovely Maleny Manor at Queensland, Australia. An Old World theme that was vintage was neatly followed by their reception, and their outdoor ceremony included a special visit by a owl ring bearer!

The Details

Bride’s Name: Fallyn Groom’s Name: Grant Venue: Maleny Manor Wedding Day: July 11, 2015 Bridal Gown Designer: Pronovias Wedding Gowns supplied by The Big Day Shoes: Christian Louboutin supplied by Myer (bride) Style Tread (bridesmaids) Accessories: Pearl Galleria (including $35K pair of vintage pearl earrings gifted in advance by the owner for my particular day) Groom’s match: Stuart Suits Bridesmaids’ Dresses: Pia Gladys Peri supplied by White Runway Florist: Mondo Floral Designs (like special arranged peonies out of France as a surprise in my gentleman) Photographer: Calli B Photography Videographer: Sunshine Coast Videography Cake: Ideas in Icing Makeup: Pru Edwards Makeup Hair: Dot & Birdie (Bride), Hair by Nicola (Bridesmaids) Celebrant: Jarrad Bayliss Ceremony Music and Entertainment: Cut a Rug DJ Stationery: Adorn Invitations Rings: Diamond House Jewellers Transport: SV Limousines Venue Styling: Love Bird Weddings Accommodations: Remingtons Cottages

The Story

                                My husband and I met at high school. I was new to the town, and we were introduced through my family. It had been love at first sight, very cute.

For our marriage, I needed a traditional Old World vintage Gatsby feel. I had to be surrounded by blossoms, I wanted tender pinks, lavenders, and whites along with accents of gold. Love Bird Weddings and Mondo Flowers worked in creating a classic elegance that is captured in Calli B Photography’s pictures of the day. I had my heart set on peonies however, as it happens, they have been out of year! However, my florist had ordered peonies to be imported as a particular surprise on the wedding day from Paris! From the easy floral styling (blossoms were everywhere, my one quite insistent request) along the aisle, into the fantastic rose and timber arbour that surrounded us, to the glass house mountains away in the distance, the air enabled us to say “I do”s at the most romantic manner. Our day has been highlighted by design thoughts, thought around a couple of years of preparation, right down to the reddish gumboots I wore to our place shots. (It had rained that afternoon, and I was not denying my Louboutins; also, it showed off my country bumpkin upbringing in perfect humour.)

My very best friend made our masks within my husband comic characters which we used throughout the night as props, and I made the menus and service sequence of occasions.

We had the chance of dealing with a organisation named Raptor Vision located in Sunshine Coast. The men behind this have been Australia Zoo raptor trainers who rescue and care for birds. To finance the cost of caring for the animals, they coached one of the owls to deliver wedding bands. Our guests were surprised by Luna that the owl for your service because our ring bearer.

Which were your favourite or most memorable elements of your wedding day?

There were a lot of very special moments, created by our awesome team of suppliers and our amazing family, however I feel that the quiet moments with my family members and friends getting ready, my husband and me standing at the altar at a bubble of love, and our grandparents being a large part of the party were my most cherished moments. We unfortunately misplaced my husband’s Nanna lately, so that these minutes shared with our loved ones are very cherished. We loved ones that had passed and had the room, and it added our day and a touch that is lovely.

Is there something that  you would have done otherwise?

Nothing, except making the day longer! It had been the wedding and ran without a glitch because of our carefully chosen and highly recommended team of suppliers, which I cannot recommend since they really make. Additionally, a special mention to my family that went above and beyond for us the entire day was great.

Do you have some advice for future brides?

Remain true to what you as a couple want. Everybody has opinions, as it’s daily and if they are are valid, listen to advice but do not live by it. Don’t lie about the photographer! Above all, write a list of what’s been most important for you for your own wedding in your own experiences as a guest in others, stick to that listing, and hope your suppliers, as it’s their job to bring it all together for you daily. Let go of the reins per week really let down your hair, because trust me when I tell you that it’s over before you know it and spend time with your family and friends. Really adopt and appreciate every moment, including the lead up to it.

~~~

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Real Weddings: Fallyn & Grant’s Old World Wedding Featuring an Owl Ring Bearer

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