#I hope you look forward to reading the rest of the story🌼

[intergalacticfloralexplorers]

Intergalactic Floral Explorers AU: The Full Story

-The rest of Event 1 and first intermission-

Event 1(cont.):

-After Brittany gathers some pikmin from the onion (which only contained blues, rocks ,and winged pikmin) she would encounter a bomb wall. The bomb wall blocks the section to where the ‘courage reactor’ was originally found, which is also where Olimar is. Olimar and Brit realize this, and at this point the ship contacts them. Olimar attempts to contact Louie and Brittany contacts Alph.

- Cut to Alph waking up on top of the snowman, having no memory of how the ship crashed. He finds the yellow onion and some yellow pikmin digging up bomb rocks. After calling them over, he walks in the direction where the Fiery Bulblax is and lo and behold, Charlie is being attacked by it. A yellow pikmin (Rigol) saves him by throwing a bomb rock at the Bulblax. Charlie was over there because he was retrieving Alph’s koppad (C’s broke during the crash) and after getting it back, A and C retrieve the call from Brittany.

- A and C are on their way to their location, Brit tells Oli and the ship the good news (Oli was unable to contact Louie) and so they opt to wait. The ship is making minor repairs to the Drake at this same time too. But then the Smoky Progg appears behind a distracted Olimar, killing 2 red pikmin. Olimar flees holding the last remaining red pikmin, Brit comms Alph and Charlie to hurry!

- The Progg corners Olimar, and Oli braces himself for a fight, but then Louie comes seemingly out of nowhere and strikes one of its eyes with his butcher knife. 

-The Progg flees, O and L stare at each other awkwardly for a moment before Olimar begins to express his relief, for Louie is ok, and also concern, for Louie’s nose is bleeding. Lou tells him he’s fine, and the nosebleed was from the crash and that it's nothing. 

- Distant explosions are heard, A B and C have destroyed the wall. O and L reunite with the koppaites just before dusk, and they head back into the Drake, ending the day.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

An “Intermission” period would occur to answer asks, explore characters and areas, introduce the leading piks, Blue returns to our universe, etc. y'know, a little break before the story continues :]

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[dkakapizzaboy]

Darling I’m a Nightmare Dressed Like a Daydream (Part 1)

Masterlist || Taglist Form

Pairing: Conman! Minghao x Fem! Reader

Words:1.2k Genre: Crime/Mystery (Suggestive! MDNI) Synopsis: Minghao has had a pretty easy life…partly due to his sharp looks, but mostly due to his even sharper mind. His day job, you ask? Oh, just your average little joe conning wealthy women out of thousands of dollars …until he meets you. Warnings: Deception, lying, Morally Grey Hao, Morally Grey Reader A/N: Hello, this is extremely overdue but this is my contribution to @svthub's 70steen Collab! Please read the rest of the stories as well! I really wanted to finish the story in one go but I wanted to do it justice and take my time with it. So, it is just Part 1 for now, but nonetheless, I hope it still is a fun read!

A big thanks to @playmetheclassics for your input on the banner 🌼

Feedback always helps!

Minghao saw you through the front window of Tiffany's, purchasing a pair of solitaire studs, which were, from his guess, at least 1.5 carats each. His eyes scanned through your appearance next, mid to late 20s, affluent, judging by the Chanel briefcase and tweed suit, understated in jewelry except for the dainty yet elegantly crafted diamond bracelet. 

He'd found his next target.

He made his way into the store and immediately caught your eye, along with everyone else's. Well, it was pretty easy: a tall, handsomely dressed man with a striking long neck and sharp features who would give Elvis a run for his money. 

He made his way to the counter you were standing by, his leather boots clicking on the wooden floor- drawing even more attention to him, and timidly made eye contact.

"Sorry to do this miss, but can I ask you for a favour?" 

He maintained eye contact, his gaze had started to make you uncannily hot on a chilly autumn evening.

"Y-yes" you stuttered, mentally cursing yourself for sounding so frail.

"It is my mom's 60th birthday and I want to buy her something special but so many choices confuse me. Could you please help me pick something?" 

The group of girls standing on the necklace counter audibly swooned, making your upper lip twitch in amusement. 

"Oh, umm sure... I guess." 

He took your shyness as a sign of apprehension and decided to persuade you further.

"Sorry I wouldn't have asked but my brother and I have this unspoken competition every year, who will get Mother the better gift. I've been losing for the past 3 years but this time, with your help hopefully (he looked down and gave a shy smile, a seasoned move on his part), I have a feeling I can win against him."

He knew he was bullshitting his way through, but it'd always worked in his favor. ‘Just charm your way forward: the key is eye contact.’ was his mantra in life.

Little did he imagine that his further explanation had created more trouble for him than he bargained for. 

"Oh really, and how do you decide who wins?" You asked, with your eyes full of suspicion. 

It's funny because you were just messing with him but since Minghao had almost never been cross-questioned by one of his targets, he was completely caught off guard. 

He racked his brain, looking for the best answer to give you... he didn't want to blow his cover but the more time he took thinking of an answer, the more nervous he became- internally of course, as it hadn't even been a few seconds.

He suddenly gave you a crooked smile, unknowingly making your heartbeat a bit faster and your underwear a tad bit wetter.

He'd found the perfect answer.

"Oh, believe me…….. you know." He said, boring those beautiful cat-like eyes into yours, sirening you to him.

This story is actually full of funny things. While Hao was trying to seduce you with those smoldering looks of his, there was a mischievous twinkle in your eyes that sucked him in. It was like he was drowning deeper and deeper into those beautiful orbs, only realizing he was sinking into you when you averted your gaze.

This was weird.

But Minghao was here for work so he didn’t ponder too much. 

You helped him pick out a beautiful set of white pearl earrings, with diamonds encrusted around the pearl. 

“I think you should give them a try, just to see if they’re as beautiful as they’re on the display.”

He didn’t wait for an answer and proceeded to grab your wrist and slide the earrings in your hand, his fingertips gently brushing against your palm, sending a jolt of buzzing current down your spine.

Well, I guess I have to try on the pretty earrings, you thought bemusingly.

After he had purchased his earrings, he insisted on getting you dinner, or breakfast, or lunch, or whatever you preferred. You blushed as he confessed he’d really really like to see you again.

You made plans with him for the weekend. Since night had already fallen and, in his words, it would be against every fiber of his moral being to let a pretty lady like you go unescorted home in the crime-ridden streets, he basically forced you to let him drive you home.

He opened the passenger side door of his shiny black impala with a cheeky ‘M’lady’. You talked all the way home, about anything and everything. You also observed how his boot cut trousers hugged his thighs, and the slight indent of his-

Yeah, focus on something else girl! You turned to look out the window, hoping that the cool air of the night will calm your hot face, and even hotter heart.

He pulled up to your front porch, impressed at the location of the street and the size of the house. 

You would be his most prized possession till date.

He smiled at you as you thanked him, and then gulped audibly as the skirt of your suit hiked up a little to reveal, what he could describe as probably the softest skin he had ever seen, as you got out of the car. He got an almost primal urge to pull you back to the seat and feel if the skin of your thighs was as soft as it looked. 

He got out of his daze as you said, “I meant to say this earlier, but you honestly don’t really look like a Jun, I don’t know, just something funny that came to mind. Bye now, see you Saturday.”

Good thing you didn’t see his shocked face as you skipped back into your house.

….

Minghao made his way back into Tiffany’s, looking for his liaison.

“Here you go. Come’on now hyung, you really think I’ll cheat on you, It’s been five fucking years.”

“And one can never be too careful” Wonwoo replied as he inspected the pearl earrings though a microscope, who knew, the conman could very well con his partner. After inspecting its authenticity, he gave Minghao his money back, after taking a 5% cut, the usual fees for ignoring his shenanigans at his store. 

“So, do you want to grab a beer?” Minghao asked hopefully.

He didn’t really know why, but since dropping you off, he’d been feeling uncannily lonely.

“I really don’t want to extend our relationship beyond business, sorry.” Wonwoo replied quite blandly as he put back the pearl earrings on display, and to be very honest, it broke Minghao’s heart a little bit.

 But Minghao knew life wasn’t really sunshine and roses all the time.

…

You made your way into the living room after taking a shower, a cold one as your nerves still sizzled thinking about Jun. 

“So, did the asshole buy it?” Your best friend asked as you handed her the beautiful, shiny studs you’d purchased earlier using her cheque book.

“He ate it from the palm of my hand, darling,” you replied coyly.

No matter how sexy you thought he was, or how gorgeous his long neck was, or how stunningly captivating his eyes were, it was time for payback, Xu Minghao.

A/n: this is loosely inspired by a Bollywood movie Ladies vs Ricky Bahl!

[queenofbaws]

Hi! 🌼 I know I'm a little late but I'm also so happy to see you again! How are you?! I really hope you're resting well! 💛 You must be looking forward to your recovery but it's really important to take your time, especially to recover from lyme disease. Anyway, know that it's always a pleasure to read your writings, I'm glad you're back!

And to tell you the truth... I don't have anything really incredible to propose. ^^" But how about writing again about our favorite duo Alan and Edgar and our dear four ghost hunters (with the number 26 in the list)? I think it must be one of my favorite aus!

Anyway, have a good weekend and a good end of day! Big virtual hugs and courage to recover completely! 💛

six(ish) sentence weekend ;P

There was just no getting around it - the house was exactly what she’d imagined in her head: It was all fresh siding and crisply painted shutters, a well kept willow tree brushing languidly against the bay window, an oddly antiquated weathervane marking a southerly wind on the roof. It was, to put it plainly, perfectly unassuming! Once you, uh...once you got past all the crows standing watch on the nearby telephone lines. And the tree. And the chimney. Yeah, once you got past all those beady little eyes, it was sort of the picture of suburban living.

Inside, though? Inside was another story entirely.

The Addams family wished they had the sort of setup Edgar and Alan were working with inside that house. There seemed to hardly be an inch of wall not taken up by something, be it painting or bookshelf or - God help them all - momento mori, everything horrid in its own way, everything tastefully gruesome. It was somehow, Sam thought, as though some divine hand had reached down and pressed Alan’s office into the library, squeezing them tight until the place where they meshed exploded out into a life of its own.

It also seemed to her, as she continued to think on it, that she was probably spending way, way, way too much time with Josh and Ashley, if that was the way her brain was processing all of this.

“Love what you’ve done with the place.” It was hard to say with any certainty how long Josh had been standing in front of that painting (a monstrously large wooden frame housing an unspeakably awful scene of a ship mid-wreck done up in oils), but it was longer than she would’ve been able to look at it. “Really homey. Welcoming, y’know. It’s, uh...it’s cheerful, almost.” He turned then, catching Sam’s eye just long enough to wink.

She probably would’ve returned that wink, too, had the case of taxidermied bats not caught her attention first. “We really could’ve just...picked these books up from you later. At the library.” And then, proving she’d been spending too much time with Chris, too, “At, um. School.”

“Oh, it’s no trouble at all. I’ve always been firmly of the belief that, in matters of the ephemeral, time is of the essence.” There was something just a little too content in Edgar’s voice; it was bordering on joyful, really. He had his back to her as he (and Ashley, of course) stood before a set of floor-to-ceiling bookshelves positively packed to the point of bursting, but even so, she knew beyond a doubt that he was smirking. “Particularly...” he continued in that enigmatic way of his, fingers skimming the faded spines of so many ancient books in his search, “...in those cases where the tenacity of death is rivaled only by the tenuousness of its grasp upon us.”

Up until that point, Chris had been beside her, just sort of awkwardly loitering in the doorway, but that seemed to jog him out of his socially anxious fugue juuuuust long enough to get a word in edgewise. “Oh. Yeah. For sure,” he said, nodding enthusiastically. When he saw none of the others were looking, he turned to Sam, wide-eyed, and mouthed, “The fuck does that mean?” to which she could only shrug.

“You do know how concerned I become when I hear you rambling on like that to yourself,” came a new voice, no less familiar (though considerably less unnerving) than Edgar’s. “All the world might be a stage, but for what it’s worth, the living room is just that - a living r...” Alan made it about halfway down the stairs before he seemed to take notice of them, the light from the bay window catching on his pinky ring as he rested his hand on the banister. If he was perplexed, or put-out, or...much of anything else, Sam couldn’t rightly say; the man had a pokerface the likes of which could’ve made him a millionaire in Vegas. Instead, he simply took in the sight of them for a beat, then continued his way down to the landing, his voice just as even as it’d been at the start. “Dare I ask why there are students in our home?” He paused, inclining his head just slightly as he passed, “Samantha.”

“Hi, Dr. Hill.”

“Chris, I’d assume?”

“Um, uh, that’d be me. How’s it going.”

He took a breath perhaps a bit longer than necessary before acknowledging Josh, greeting him not with his name but with a sagely nod towards the painting. “The sinking of the Essex. Why is it, do you think, that it always comes ‘round to cannibalism with you?”

Pleased as punch, Josh lifted his shoulders high as they could go. In combination with his grin, it was a perfect example of the ‘aren’t-I-a-little-stinker’ brand of mischief she’d grown so accustomed to. “I dunno, Alan, but I’m sure an inkblot or two would help puzzle that one out.”

“Yes, I’m sure it would too,” he said lightly. “And Ashley, of course.”

Distracted as she was by the books, her usual politeness only appeared as a blip. Barely glancing over her shoulder, Ashley flashed him an uncertain smile and a quiet “Hello” before crouching down once more, scanning through the titles on display.

“Far be it from me to point out things as banal as basic propriety and conflicts of interest within educational spheres, but again, why is it, precisely, that these four are milling about our private residence?” She wasn’t sure why she was surprised, but something about Alan’s continued use of his therapist voice knocked Sam for a loop. It sort of suggested that - mother of God - these weren’t just characters the two of them played while they were at work. It sort of suggested, uh...that they were just...like that.

A low sound of triumph, almost inaudible, accompanied Edgar pulling a book from the shelf, giving it a cursory flip-through before offering it to Ashley. “Why, ghosts, of course,” he said by way of answering Alan’s question. He was, as she’d suspected all along, smirking. “You know me - tender-hearted creature that I am, I couldn’t turn our ignoble paranormal investigators away without first offering them some assistance.”

“Ignoble?” Ashley asked in a small voice (taking immediate solace, Sam noticed, when Edgar met her eyes and shook his head, flippantly waving her off as if to say he hadn’t meant her, of course, just the rest of them).

“Tender-hearted,” was what bristled Alan, though, and almost to the point of laughter. “Tender-hearted creatures don’t lure children into their homes speaking in riddles and offering books on the occult. Storybook monsters do that. Witches hoping to make a stew out of orp - ” There he paused again, glancing Josh’s way with open curiosity. “It does always come ‘round to cannibalism with you. Perplexing.”

“A storybook monster I may be, my dear,” Edgar drawled, returning to the bookshelf, “But you forget yourself. People love a good monster. No one ever remembers the boring old men in sweatervests and pressed slacks.” He took another book from his collection, giving it a once-over, and as he handed it to Ashley, glanced Alan’s way with a quirked brow. Just to make sure the hit had landed, she was sure.

The pokerface did not so much as shiver. “Well, if the four of you did come here seeking some sort of help in the field of the supernatural, I suppose I can’t say you’ve made a mistake. I’ll leave you to it, then, under the watchful eye of this ghoul. A word to the wise, however - I’d be loath to accept offers of gingerbread or sweets from a creature like him.”

“How dare you.” There was nothing even approaching insult in Edgar’s voice - just that same low, slow amusement. “You know better than anyone else I haven’t the stomach for eating poor, lost children. Not anymore, anyway.” It was he who dropped Sam a wink that time, and strangely enough, it managed to almost land identically to Josh’s. “So hard on the digestion, you understand. Maybe in my younger days.”

Chris leaned in towards her, their shoulders not just touching but pressed flush together. “I think we should go home now,” he said with a nod. “I’m worried this might be their version of foreplay.”