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[overthefroggymoon]

Na Clocha ar Trá - Pikelan One-Shot

Summary: Scanlan can't skim stones

Word Count: 700

AND FROM THE SHADOWS, SHE RE-EMERGES !

with a teansy pikelan fic <3

Read on AO3!

“Scanlan, this shouldn’t be this hard” Pike said, tinges of pity in her tone, a look of pure love and appreciation plastered on her face. She was currently waist deep in the water of Glendalough Lake, which, despite the warm summer temperatures of the early morning, was freezing. 

Her hands shook slightly as they held her baby blue dress in bunches by her chest, but the cold was nothing worthy of note, when before her on shore, her husband, adorned in an outfit of a similar shade (which she lovingly informed him looked like a children’s sailor costume), was starting an argument with the ground he stood on. 

“It’s just that the damn pebbles here are too small-or big-or misshapen-or something!” Scanlan responded, frustration filling his own voice. His shaggy hair hung over his head as he turned it downward and shook it from side to side. 

In his right hand, Scanlan held a light brown sunhat, a gift from Pike which he hadn’t taken off once since arriving in Ireland; except for 10 minutes ago when in an act of disbelief and frustration, he ripped it off his head; "But I-I did everything right" he had whispered with confusion, as for the sixth time in a row the pebble he had thrown did not skip over the water and instead promptly sank with an unsatisfyingly quiet plop.

10 tries later, and it seemed Scanlan had officially snapped. “No, No, NO!” he exclaimed as he began to analyse the ground below him, using his hat to point to various rocks of differing sizes, shapes and colours as he did, “All of them. Completely insufficient.” He said wistfully, moving his hands to his hips in a move of what could only be described as disappointment. 

“Honestly, Pike, I think it’s just something about Irish rocks….they weren’t made for my beautiful hands to hold them…” he said, tearing his eyes from the ground and moving them toward his wife as he did. 

And then he completely forgot about rocks.

Before him, she stood a vision. The sun was setting between the mountains which lay beyond the lake, framing her in such a way that the eye, even if trying to look at the mountains or sky, could only ever be drawn to his Pike. The remaining rays of sunlight surrounded her head perfectly, and reflected off her platinum blonde hair as it lay unbrushed on her shoulders. From his spot just a few feet from her on shore, Scanlan's breath stopped as he felt himself fall in love with her all over again. 

“So now it’s Ireland’s fault you can’t skim stones, is it? Does that mean there are also Irish stones back in Emon?” She retorted, a teasingly wicked grin on her face. It only took a moment before she realised he was lost in a trance. Again.

"Oh, Saranrae" She whispered to herself, mentally chastising him for his current state as she did. This was nowhere near the first time she had found him frozen in place, really it was a state she found him in more than once a week. She couldn’t say she didn’t do the same, but her moments of blissful admiration were ones she was still able to function through. Scanlan’s, however, were always more paralysing and obvious - the showman in him not shying away from the chance to fully and dramatically embody his emotions outwardly at every chance he got.

“Exactly….” Scanlan assured, voice breathy and mind not fully conscious of what or who he was responding to. 

Pike trudged back to shore, freeing her sundress from her hands as she exited the water, and replacing the cold, still fabric she had been clinging to with her husbands warm, worn hands as soon as she found herself before him. 

“Okay then, Scanlan. It’s Ireland’s fault” she indulged, smiling into his brown eyes as they jumped from each of hers, unsure which one he should look into, before finally settling on her lips.

For a moment she expected him to kiss her. But then he mirrored her shy smile back at her, his eyes returned back to her own, and they each simply did nothing.

[overthefroggymoon]

A-Side: if you’re anything like me, i’m sorry

by tameila

In the quiet, mountainous town of Westruun, the newly retired Scanlan Shorthalt is ready to put his stardom behind him and start the best and happiest days of his life building a home and family with Pike Trickfoot. Right. Well, it turns out that he may have gotten a head start on that family without knowing it, and here he thought wedding planning was going to be the biggest challenge of his retirement!

this chapter: Scanlan navigates his life post-retirement.

[sequel to The Sun Always Rises, established Pikelan]

[overthefroggymoon]

sorry for being mia yall, have been distracted thinking about the perfectness that would be pikelan but make it orpheus/eurydice 

[overthefroggymoon]

Recipe Book - a Pikelan One-Shot

Summary: a car chase, a woman who fears for her man, and a violent opening up - HOW WILL THEY SURVIVE? (they play mario kart, pike gets worried she's overstepping some boundaries, and Scanlan talks about his Feelings a little)

Words: 2,559

Day 7 of (hopefully) 30, using the ‘September’ prompts by @creativepromptsforwriting

Read on AO3!

“YES YES YES” Pike squealed, “One more bend and you are toast, Shorthalt”

“In your dreams, Pikey” Scanlan retorted, though his contorted face suggested a slight lack of confidence.

After a night of loud music and drinks, Pike and Scanlan decided today was to be filled with nothing but comfy clothes and video games. A few hours into the Mario Kart marathon, however, Pike was getting restless and decided it necessary for the game to get, in her words, “spiced up”.

Despite Scanlan’s suggestions, she insisted the best way to ‘spice up’ the game was by placing a wager, and so after 2 separate instances of the terms of the bet being changed (‘nonono best of three is stupid, it should be best of five’ ‘that is not a fair win, King Boo's AI clearly cheated' ) they found themselves strewn across their worn grey couch, eyes locked on to the screen.

Currently Pike, as Dry Bones, was in 1st and had just entered into the final lap of what they had just insisted would be the deciding race. Scanlan, as Link, was trailing behind in 3rd, after Bowser had decided to blue shell him only moments beforehand.

“Oh Mr. Shorthalt get ready to expose yourself” Pike said, mind too focused to fully hear the words as they left her mouth. Scanlan was even incapable of responding to such a suggestive request, transfixed instead on getting his rightful place in 1st back.

Whipping around the track, Dry Bones’ driving got more and more erratic with every passing second. Driving past yet another cow, he barely managed to avoid a mud puddle which would have lost him precious moments he couldn’t afford to lose.

Link, on the other hand, was facing disaster after disaster. Between bananas hidden around sharp turns and meandering cows, he somehow found himself soon falling into 4th place, the promise of a win becoming a near impossibility as he did.

If there had been anyone else in the room, they may have taken notice of the two people playing this game as well as their avatars in front of them.

They may have seen that offscreen, Pike was beginning to rise from her seated position, the blanket that lay on her lap falling away as she did. From her squat-like position hovering above the couch, Pike started biting her lip and gripping the controller much tighter than needed.

They could also have seen Scanlan, who stayed in his seat, but who’s face had become rigid, to the point that he had not blinked in nearly 2 minutes.

But the only people in the room were too focused on the television before them to notice any of that.

That is until,

“AHA!” Pike yelped, spinning herself around to face her opponent as she did, “I. Fucking. Won”.

Scanlan found it hard to tear his eyes from the game he had been so focused on for the last few hours, but eventually he found his way back to Pike’s eyes - like he always did.

“On a technicality, I suppose you maybe won that one” Scanlan conceded, smirking up at Pike - happy for her win but refusing to explicitly acknowledge it to her face.

Standing up fully now, Pike dropped her controller to the couch below her dramatically, “You cannot ruin this for me, Scanlan. I officially won this tournament. And you know what that means”

Pike’s legs had seemingly turned jelly from what must have been a combination of lack of movement and spontaneous elongated squatting, and in that moment they seemed to fail her as she suddenly dropped to the floor in front of Scanlan’s legs.

She pulled herself closer to him, and propped her head on his knees as soon as she was able to. “You have to show me now” She stated, eyes wild with excitement and intrigue.

From his spot above her, Scanlan smiled slightly, “Are you sure this is what you want for your prize?” he asked her, placing a hand on her cheek as he did.

“Positive” she answered instantly, nuzzling his hand slightly when it met her skin.

Scanlan shrugged and rolled his eyes at her perseverance, “Okay!” he proclaimed “but don’t blame me when it’s not that interesting!”

He shifted his torso forward, intending to try and stand but Pike made no attempt to move when he did so, “Pikey”, he addressed her softly, her eyes still locked onto his, “I need to get up to do it”

Pike sighed deeply but surrendered eventually, and picked herself off the floor (a more than difficult feat when your legs are currently made of jelly).

“Let’s-a go!” Scanlan deadpanned, holding a hand out for Pike to take.

Pike simply frowned in response, but eagerly grabbed his hand in hers as she did.

Once their hands were interlaced, Scanlan turned away from the still-playing race recap, and started to move his way toward his bedroom, Pike trailing behind him slightly as they walked.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“I could have sworn it was in here” Scanlan called back to her, head half buried in his closet that now stood in complete disarray.

It had been 10 minutes since they entered the bedroom, and 8 since Scanlan first stuck his head in his closet and began pulling through every inch of it in search of Pike’s prize.

Pike sighed slightly from her spot on the bed, “It’s okay if you don’t have it. I’ll just have to think of a new prize” She assured him, tucking her knees beneath her head and beginning to think of the many possibilities before her.

“Ooh” she spoke after a moment, “How’s about ice cream?” she asked, directing her question toward Scanlan’s feet - the only part of him she could currently see.

Her question gained no response, and his feet soon disappeared into the closet with the rest of him.

Accepting the defeat that she would simply have to sit and wait for him to re-emerge eventually, Pike lay back on the bed and allowed her eyelids to flutter closed.

When her eyes opened again, she was immediately met with an overly-eager Scanlan. He now stood at the side of the bed, entranced in a shoebox he held in his hands.

“You found it!” She said, yawning as she did.

“Yeah, I don’t even know what’s in here, really” Scanlan said, eyes not leaving the box.

“Let’s find out then” Pike urged, scooting her body closer to his standing form as she did.

Scanlan plopped himself next to her, keeping the shoebox in his grip. He was good at playing at aloofness, but Pike could tell from his demeanor that he was anxious, uncomfortable, and excited all at the same time. Being him though, she also knew he would in no way want to talk about any of those feelings and so she simply placed a hand on his arm and squeezed in support.

He flipped the box open soon after, and turned it to her, “would you do the honors?” he asked.

Before Pike’s eyes was a treasure trove of Scanlan. Everything from souvenirs to the odd baby photo was poking it’s head out from the mess of stuff that somehow all fit together inside this small box.

“I’d love to” she said simply, and took the box in her hands, slowly beginning to sift through it when she finally felt the man beside her relax a little.

The first thing she pulled from the box was a harmonica. A small, rusted silver thing, with an intricate V on it’s side, “this is cool” Pike said, the worry of stumbling into rocky terrain stopping her from asking or saying any more about it.

After a few more various knick-knacks, old birthday cards and jewelry, all of which Pike observed in either silence or with only a small comment (‘pretty’/’wow’/’you were so young'), Scanlan interjected in her exploration.

“Pike” he started, placing a hand on hers, in which currently rested a passport photograph from at least 20 years ago, “I can tell you want to ask things about this stuff, you’re doing that tongue thing you do when you’re tryna do your sudoku’s - it’s adorable, don’t get me wrong, but I’d love you tell me what's on your mind rather than try and not get into anything messy. It’s gonna get messy eventually, unfortunately” he admitted, a softness in his eyes telling Pike he was scared but wanting to open up to her. All he needed was for her to ask.

She tilted her hand, and the photograph in it, toward Scanlan, “This?” She started, “What are you, 6? 7?”

A nervous smile started on his face as he gazed into the eyes of his younger self, “No actually…that is unfortunately me at the ripe age of 12”

Pike couldn’t help the bulge in her eyes as it happened, “12?” she asked bewildered, looking back between the man in front of her and the boy in the photograph, “I knew you’d said something about a growth spurt but that must have been real rough”.

He laughed lightly at her comment, nodding and confirming her theories, “Turns out girls don’t like you so much when you look like a literal baby”

What followed was an hour of intense analysis and exploration of the random knick knacks that were Pike’s only clues to his past. From his first visit from the tooth fairy, to a particular edgy (and hilarious) song he had written at age 15 after he kissed a boy for the first time, Pike felt like she had struck pure gold.

The late afternoon quickly turned into evening, and the shoebox’s interior grew less and less crowded as time wore on, until eventually all that remained was a small, worn leather folder.

“What’s this?” Pike asked as she grabbed for it, removing it carefully after seeing its corners had become nearly congealed to the box around it.

“I don’t actually know” Scanlan admitted from beside her, “I haven’t looked in here for a long time”

Finally freeing the folder, Pike popped it open and gently pulled its contents out. Seemingly in response to the movement, Scanlan’s breath suddenly slowed.

From inside the folder, Pike had found a notebook, which she imagined had once been a lavish and delicate thing covered in an intricate pattern, but who’s outside was now worn from use and age, and who’s insides were crammed with various bits of paper.

“Wait”, Scanlan said as she went to open it, Pike freezing immediately upon his request, “I think I’d like to open this up. I haven’t seen it in a long long time”

She simply smiled at him in understanding, and handed the notebook over with ease. It took him a moment, but eventually Scanlan accepted the book and began to simply caress the front cover.

Pike didn’t feel inclined to question or rush him, and so she took a moment to simply watch and observe him. From her seat beside him she found she was able to see hints of emotion she wasn’t sure she would have caught from any further away.

In his hands and arms she saw a gentleness, one he carried only on occasions where he was desperately trying to make sure what he held was real, was cared for, and wasn’t going to leave.

Finally, Scanlan flipped the book open, and Pike was struck with the sheer messiness of the journal before her. The front page was a simple ‘This book belongs to’ page, and yet every inch of it was filled with one scribble or another.

Pike tried to make out the name labeled on the dotted line, but found herself dumbfounded by the scrawl of handwriting atop it. Moving quickly on to the other sporadic notes which littered the page, Pike did her best to make out some of the hidden messages, but only found herself able to decipher 2;

“Sully - Piano Lessons” and

“12/12/88”

The second one she imagined was a date, but given the complete lack of context for either message, she couldn’t tell if this was something that meant anything or if it was just another scribble on a page; a forgotten note taken in haste.

Just as Scanlan went to turn the page again, he paused, and brought his calloused fingertips over to the date Pike had just read.

12/12/88

She thought hard on it, but came up empty for what it could have been.

“Her due date” Scanlan finally provided, “She always called me a 'scoundrel' for making her wait an extra few weeks” he laughed lightly to himself. "scoundrel" he repeated lightly.

In the silence that followed, pieces of the puzzle that was Scanlan began slotting into place in Pike’s mind.

And suddenly, that scrawled name along the dotted line became clear as day.

Juniper Shorthalt.

Flicking her eyes over to Scanlan, she took note of the joy that seemed to have sparked in his eyes and she grew desperate to climb behind them and watch the memories that played inside.

“She seemed like such a good person, Scanlan” She said, unsure of what else she really could say in such a moment

“She really really was” He responded, “Fucking awful handwriting though, Ioun’s sake, I cannot read half of this chicken scratch” he continued, turning the notebook every which way as he did, chuckling lightly with Pike’s soft laugh following suit.

“She called it a ‘recipe book’” He explained, replacing the notebook back onto his lap again, “And like, sure there’s a lot of recipes in here, but really it was her scribble pad. Everything, everything went in here”

“I don’t know how she managed that, I’d forget what every note meant instantly if I had something like this” Pike said, hoping to get Scanlan talking about his Mother more.

In their 5 years of knowing each other Pike had heard very little about Juniper - mostly all she knew was that she was kind hearted, had supported Scanlan through his artistic endeavors, and that she had died when Scanlan was young.

Despite her careful attempts at triggering conversation about the woman, Pike had found Scanlan was nervous to give any more details than the basics and so usually most conversation about her had covered those same three topics on a loop, in the most detached way Scanlan could muster.

But now Pike was finally getting context to the woman, and relished in the moment while she could.

Scanlan flipped through an assortment of pages quickly, and finally landed on a random page in the middle.

“I think this one was my favourite” he cooed, and Pike read the recipe name along the top - Shorthalt’s Shortbread - exhaling a small laugh at the name as she did.

“Why don’t we make it tonight?” Pike asked him, seeing the short list of ingredients needed, “we’ve got all that in the cupboards, I think”

Scanlan paused for a few moments longer than Pike was comfortable. Had she crossed a line? Had she pushed him back into the fear of the intense intimacy of their situation? Was this all just too much for him?

Until finally she felt him exhale beside her and put a hand to her knee, “You have no idea how much I would love that, Pike”

[overthefroggymoon]

hello babes if anyone is keeping up with my 30 day writing thingy just a heads up i probably wont be posting tonight. gonna do my best to but im not feeling right so dont wanna push myself when im just not in the space for it.

will be back and better than ever tomorrow xx

[overthefroggymoon]

Pike x Scanlan | TLOVM 1x09

The Tide of Bone

[overthefroggymoon]

Coffee Smell - Pikelan One-Shot

Summary:  camping, and one-bed, and unspoken feelings, oh my!

Words: 1,855

Day 1 of (hopefully) 30, using the ‘September’ prompts by @creativepromptsforwriting

Read on AO3!

They had never been this close before, she suddenly realised. Sure there had been moments in cramped elevators or concert crowds, but this was by far the closest they had ever been to one another.

“God, your breath wreaks, Scanlan. Did you eat a pile of garlic before bed?” Pike asked, more so out of desperate need to distract her mind and body than out of any actual curiosity or annoyance.

Even though Pike had her eyes closed, she could tell a wicked grin was growing on the face of the shorter man laying beside her, “I may have had a handful of Keyleth’s almond barks, yes…and Grog’s little accident also means I have no toothbrush so I’m afraid I can’t do much about it, Piekypants” he retorted, taking a pause between words to purposefully breath out from his mouth much harder than he needed to.

Pike mmm’d a response, shifting slightly to try and get her head in an angle that wasn’t directly in front of Scanlan and his almond bark breath. “Yno, I love Keyleth and the fact she only bakes with natural ingredients….but I am not convinced that those things don’t have actual bark in them” She mused, being yet another attempt to distract both herself and Scanlan from her obvious discomfort.

“Oh no they definitely do. I saw Percy pull out a piece the size of a gold coin earlier” he said, his body responding to her movements as needed.

The pair were currently on a camping trip with some of their friends, and had had to cram into Pike’s single person tent when Grog had accidentally thrown Scanlan’s hiking bag into a river as they attempted to cross it.

To say the space they were in was tight would have been a massive understatement. The only comfortable position Pike had found so far had been laying on her left side, facing Scanlan, and seemingly the only comfortable position he had found had been on his right side, facing Pike. And now that comfortable position was being rudely interrupted by Scanlan’s awful bark breath, so began yet another desperate search between them to attempt to find some semblance of comfort.

It didn’t help matters that the close proximity was also making Pike feel certain things she really didn’t want to feel right now. If it had been anyone else on this trip beside her - well, maybe not anyone else - she would have been fine, maybe even happy to cuddle in with the other party, but Scanlan had always been different from everyone else.

Their friendship had an unfortunate start, with their first meeting abruptly ending when a drunken Scanlan announced to Pike and Grog that she was the love of his life. What followed was years of constant innuendos and advances from Scanlan, all of which Pike had turned down with a laugh. Eventually, they had come to an understanding that it would be best for Scanlan, and their friendship as a whole, if he stop with the advances completely.

That had been almost six years ago now, and their friendship had become something Pike treasured deeply. Scanlan was an ever-present menace, but he was also the most caring and supportive person she knew. Pike knew early it didn’t take much for Scanlan to fall deeply in love with someone, but over the last few years she finally got to see that play out in a platonic way. She adored him for the level of genuine care he had for those he didn’t obsess over and idealise.

But that was just the problem. She adored him for it. She didn’t know for certain when it had started, or why, or how, but laying here contorting her body into a multitude of equally uncomfortable sleeping positions, she was finally confronted with a truth she had been long avoiding.

She had a crush on Scanlan Shorthalt. To make matters worse, it wasn’t even a normal adult crush it was one of those stupid, embarrassing crushes you get when you’re eleven and all your body wants to do is doodle pictures of them in your notebooks.

She cursed her body and her mind for betraying her so dastardly, and made sure to curse Vex’ahlia while she was at it too. While Pike had been able to pretend her crush wasn’t there, Vex had been quick to call her out on it over a year ago, and when Scanlan’s belongings emerged from the lake predictably unusable, Vex had insisted no one else but Pike could share a tent and that actually that would be a fantastic arrangement for everyone. Somehow.

Cursing her friend silently under her breath, Pike finally settled on laying on her left side with her face turned into the air mattress beneath them. She was completely uncomfortable but was more than willing to sacrifice her physical comfort for her emotional one.

“Man, is it really that bad?” Scanlan asked quietly, himself unmoved from his previous position, “Listen, I think I have an idea for making us both more comfortable….but there’s a 50/50 chance you’re gonna hate it”

Not moving her head from its fixed position, Pike took a moment before mumbling out a “Go on”

She could feel Scanlan perk up beside her, to know she was at least willing to hear him out, “So, essentially what the idea is, is that we both face the same way and spoon” he paused, presumably waiting for her to respond, but continued after what he seemingly deemed as too long, “To clarify, I mean like, fully spooning. Like cuddling, limbs, hair in face, all that……and like, yno, spooning in itself is just really comfy so….the longer you stay silent, the more I’m just going to ramble until you speak…..The first time I masturbated I-”

At that, Pike finally began shifting in her spot. Craning her head toward Scanlan, she opened her eyes for the first time since laying down beside him, and put a finger to his lips, “I really really don’t want to know, Scanlan. But I will admit. Spooning would solve a lot of the…issues we’re having here so…..fine”. While at first she had seen only darkness, slowly the man in front of her was coming into a sharper focus, as a faint light from what remained of their campfire glowed outside.

Taking him in for the first time, she was immediately struck by the large smirk on his face, and instantly her heartstrings were plucked. He had changed out of his daywear since she last saw him, but she couldn’t place where this new garb had come from. His hair, usually in a bun or ponytail, was untied, and loosely pushed to one side of his head, with the occasional lock cascading gently over his face.

“Great!” He said, the smirk only growing wider, “I happen to be an excellent spooner by the way”

At this Pike rolled her eyes, and started her slow move closer toward Scanlan, “Spooning really isn’t a skill, Scanlan”.

When she had settled a few inches shy of them touching, she stopped, and looked at him waiting.

But he simply stared back at her, eventually knitting his brows together, “Yno, usually spooning means you gotta turn around yno….” he said, confusion evident.

“Yep” She said, “So, you gonna…?”

Scanlan was immediately taken aback “You want me to be the little spoon?” Pike only nodded in response, causing the man to appear stunned for a moment. He took almost a whole minute before blinking his confusion away, and softly, but excitedly, adding “I never even considered that an option….I love it but, are you sure you don’t want-”

“Turn around, Scanlan” She interrupted, and he graciously nodded and awkwardly flipped himself, facing his back to her, and whipping his entire head of hair at Pike’s face as he did so.

Sputtering a few of his strands from her mouth, Pike said, “I never really considered how much hair you had before now. Have you got a hair tie?”

Scanlan sighed before starting to tie his hair up, a more than difficult task in their tight enclosure. Pike leant her head back, staying wary of his elbows and fists, and did her best to ignore the heat that radiated through her as she watched his dexterous fingers do their work.

“That’s the best I can do” he said, completing the top knot with a sigh. While the top knot itself was less than perfect, it achieved its goal of getting the hair out of Pike’s face, and so she considered it more than acceptable.

Gazing at the hair atop his head, Pike couldn’t help as her eyes flitted down and landed on his neck. She had never really thought of it before, but that was a nice neck. Perfect for-

“You okay?” He whispered to her, snapping her mind from out of the gutter it had plunged itself into, “You don’t have to actually spoon me if you don’t want to” he continued, unaware of where he had just dragged her mind out of, “It’s all good, Pikey”.

Swallowing hard, she allowed his words to drown out the horny, stupid, loud teenager that was taking over her brain, and slowly began to shift closer to him.

Fueled in part by her desire to just touch him already, and in other part by her desperate need for comfort and sleep, she nestled herself into the curve of his back, and threw her right arm around his side. Immediately, she felt him tense up and smiled to herself at the reaction.

“Thank you for saying that, Scanlan” She whispered into his neck, watching it as it slowly moved with each of his breaths.

Taking a gulp, he responded, “Ye-yeah of course…”

“Is this okay?” She asked him, gesturing to her arm that lay around him.

“Yeah” he said simply.

She grinned to herself wildly. She didn’t know how but she had somehow stumbled into the answer to the age old question of ‘how to make Scanlan Shorthalt shut up’, and couldn’t help but bask in the power she felt in her fingertips.

After a few more minutes of silence, Pike’s eyes began to droop. Without thinking, she put her head onto the nape of Scanlan’s neck and while she would go on tomorrow to insist that she didn’t kiss him, she puckered her lips and let them land on his skin.

He shuddered beneath her, and the two of them sighed heavily in unison.

“Is this okay?” She asked against his skin

“Yeah” He responded

“Good night, Scanlan” She said

“Good night, Pike” He replied

Allowing sleep to come over her, Pike took one last deep breath before drifting away. She grinned to herself as she was struck by a smell, seemingly one seeped into Scanlan’s cool tanned skin. She didn’t know how she could’ve missed it before but she decided right there and then, in that split second before her dreams took her away, that this was the best smell in Exandria.

Definitely much better than Keyleth’s almond barks.

[overthefroggymoon]

Not in the Cards - Pikelan one-shot

Summary: He needs to give up on this whole love thing. It's never going to actually pan out for him.

Words: 1,236

Read on ao3!

Maybe if i think about it enough you’ll appear he thought If I close my eyes tight, squeeze my fists, and hold my breath for a full minute, I’ll open my eyes and before me you will stand. With my eyes closed, colours can dance before the black of my lids as I create the picture of you, more solid than I have ever seen it before;

5 foot tall, frizzy but styled hair that's been dyed auburn, and arms filled with tattoos. Your warm brown skin covered by a skimpy bathing suit, with a flowing deep red sundress over top. Heavy eyelids that look to me with adoration fueled purely by your own confidence.

His cheeks were heating up the more he thought of this manifestation, from both the tension in his face after holding his breath and squeezing his eyes for a whole twenty seconds, and from a slightly different tension, in a slightly more southern region of his body.

Please he thought I need this

Behind his eyes, the figure stood, elusive and silent, his innate musicality failing him in the moment he longed for it the most. The voice, he considered, the voice should be light and-no wait, deep. Yeah, a deep and seductive voice with maybe hints of a Nicodranas accent in there.

As the seconds wore on, the image only became more vivid, and his entire body soon joined his face in the burgeoning tension that was threatening to never leave him again.

He couldn’t help the grin that grew large on his face when her image crystalised in his mind. With his eyes closed, he could almost imagine she was in fact standing right before him, ready for him. Waiting just for him.

If it weren’t for the fact his constitution had always been rather low he may not have noticed the seconds as they slowly ticked by. He may have been able to stay behind his eyes with the love of his life. He had just found her, after all. Did he not deserve a few moments more with her?

A dull pain that had begun in his lungs began to solidify and his mind was on the verge of a panic, but he held out longer than he probably should have just to stay with her a moment longer.

And he was so glad he did when she finally spoke.

In that deep voice he had bestowed upon her, with an added quality he could only describe as pure heaven, she said “Don’t worry, love. Just open your eyes. I’ll be there”

Unsure but uncaring of whether this was a hallucination from lack of oxygen, or some kind of actual magic, he grinned widely, took a quick last look and opened his eyes, expectantly.

With a smile plastered on his red face, and his eyes wide with excitement, from his spot on the edge of his bed he took in the scene in front of him.

Where he had expected his love to be was filled instead with a messy pile of dirty laundry he’d forgotten to do yesterday. Whipping his head around in confusion, he found a wall full of various photographs and cheap magazine posters the only thing before him.

His eyebrows furrowed. She had told him - she had said -

He took a swig from the near empty bottle of whiskey grasped in his right hand, reality setting in.

She had lied. She wasn’t here. She may never be here.

And why should she, he supposed. He was a guarded and oftentimes cruel man who was currently flunking almost all of his college classes in favour of playing unpaid gigs at the dingiest spots in town.

Like any other 23 year old, he lay back on his stained and unruly bedsheets and began to come to terms with the fact he would be alone forever. No one would ever love him, or understand him, as much as she had. As much as the taller gentleman he had pictured a month ago would. As much as the throng of imagined loves he had pictured over the last decade would.

Accepting his unavoidable eternal loneliness, he lay his left arm over his eyes, and downed the rest of the bottle. Well tried to, about 80% of the way through his chug a knock came at his door and startled him so much he began sputtering and coughing his way back into a sitting position, with the remaining 20% of the bottle now covering the distressed tee he wore on his chest.

Just at that moment, his roommate, a pale bald man with a body that would make The Rock weep, barreled in through the door, “Scanlan! Fuck’s sake, man. I thought you were doing that auto-ass- auto-assnati - auto….the strangling thing, or something”.

Honestly, that might be a less embarrassing thing for Grog to have walked in on than what was actually playing out in this dingy, dark and depressing excuse for a bedroom.

He could only imagine what his friend saw; a drunken mess of a man, vacantly looking back at him with bleary eyes. Oh, and hacking up his lungs.

“One time big guy. I did it once. Never again” He managed to get out between coughs, with each one only moving the whisky to a more uncomfortable spot in his trachea.

The larger man stood eyeing him suspiciously for a moment before he spoke again, “Were you uh, thinking about them again?”

“No” Scanlan answered too quickly, “I was not thinking of anyone. I was just….drinking” He had learned early on that lies were always better when you added at least a hint of truth to them.

Grog just stood in the doorway, big enough to block out the view from outside the room, and shuffled awkwardly in spot, “Sure, sure. Anyway. My sister’s here”

At that, Scanlan's eyes grew wide once again and he couldn’t help but facepalm at his own forgetfulness and stupidity, “Shit, yes. Sister. Right. Sorry. Let me…let me just change my shirt and I’ll come say hi” he ended with a smile.

That seemingly satisfied Grog, as he promptly turned and closed the door behind him. Still coughing lightly, Scanlan immediately ripped off the soaked tee from over his head and made his way to the dresser, stumbling through more piles of mess than he liked to acknowledge.

He pulled out an old shirt he’d had for a few years now, ensuring it had no holes before putting it on.

Making his way to the bedroom door, he took a moment to compose himself. As he stood, taking a few deep breaths, he caught his own eye in the mirror hanging on the wall beside his door. Gazing at himself, he immediately noticed his brown eyes were now drowning in a sea of red, and his usually bright tanned skin had somehow become an almost sickly white. Almost as pale as Grog, he thought. Soaking in his ghastly appearance, he decided he badly needed a pep talk, “Okay, fucker. New rule. No more romanticising, idealising, daydreaming, or making up people in your head. Love. Isn’t. In. The. Cards. Stop forcing it”

With another breath, he straightened himself, put on his best attempt at looking sober, and opened the door, ready to make a good first impression to his best friend's sister.

And immediately broke his new rule.

[overthefroggymoon]

The Last Thing She Needed - a Pikelan one-shot

Summary: Pike's had a really hard day. It doesn't help when her fuck buddy decides to show up to her place unannounced.

Word Count: 2,184

read on AO3!

Pike collapsed into a heap on her sofa, the clothes she had meant to tidy away the previous evening falling with her into the small crevice her body creates. She takes a deep breath, and does her best not to let it overwhelm her, even though she knew that realistically, she was already far past the point of no return into the overwhelm.

She had spent the day substituting for her friend’s class and trying her best to wrangle a group of nine year old's to do anything besides talk loudly and throw paper at each other. While she understood the excitement and unsettled feeling that came with the end of the school year since she was feeling it too, today had just been a perfect storm of sensory overload that resulted in her being in a foul mood all day, which was only exemplified by an extremely long and tiresome journey home. All of which meant she didn’t arrive home until the stupid o’clock time of 8:45pm. On a Tuesday.

At least tomorrow will be the last day before Summer, she thinks.

She had thought the familiar, and usually comforting, environment of home would immediately put her mind and soul at ease, but she had forgotten about the previous nights own stressors that had meant what should be her place of respite, was left in complete disarray. Not a very prime place to try and wind down from a long, hard day of work.

Her handbag began to buzz lightly from the floor where she had haphazardly dropped it. Being so far into stress, she noticed it immediately, with any and every slight shift of noise, smells, or visuals immediately triggering a new wave of stress and panic. For a second she started to pray to Sarenrae that the vibrating phone would put itself to rest and the battery would run out, or the notification would be quick and harmless beyond those small vibrations. But then it began to sing, and she immediately despised her past self for choosing such an obnoxious song in a moment of attempted whimsy. Kelis’ 'Milkshake' started to sing loudly throughout her open floored sitting room/kitchen/utility area, though the bag provided a few layers of muffling that Pike felt was her only saviour from going into a full blown rage. Or maybe it would be a panic this time. Or a breakdown. It was never easy to say exactly where the overwhelm might take her on a given day.

Despite Kelis’ insistence that she’d “have to charge” Pike chose to ignore the singing, opting instead to remain face first in her couch and its soft, cool cushions, which were providing her her only small bit of comfort and distraction from the constricting space that was her current mental state.

Plus, she knew she’d have to deal with those damn clothes if she moved, and she really wanted to pretend they weren’t there at all.

The phone went quiet eventually, and Pike sent Sarenrae a quick, slightly passive aggressive thank you prayer (“I mean I would have rathered it not go off at all, but thanks all the same”). She breathed a heavy sigh into her cushion, with the coolness of it starting to provide that much needed de-stresser she had been longing for.

And then, her bag began to sing again.

Pike groaned loudly and whimpered slightly at the damn thing and it’s stupid singing. It couldn’t have left her alone for more than a minute?

She began swatting her arm around the couch, trying to blindly find her way to another cushion to cover her ears and head with, when the phone suddenly stopped ringing again. And a loud knock came at her door.

Instantly she bolted upright, and confusion, and slight amounts of fear, filled her. After a moment of sitting on the couch, thinking perhaps she was hearing things in a stress induced break of psychosis, another more rapid and frankly, frantic knock came to the door. From her spot she heard a voice that sounded as though it was calling out to her, though the distance between her and the door, as well as its thick material, meant whatever the voice was saying exactly, or whoever was saying whatever it was, was completely and utterly distorted from her.

Slowly, she rose from the couch, her once pristine bun now in complete disarray and drooping toward her neck, having shifted dramatically from its spot atop her head since the beginning of the day. Making her way to the door, Pike grabbed her car keys from the table, shoving one of the pointier keys between her middle and index finger, readying herself for whatever the hell was whaling on her door.

Pike attempted to make as little sound as possible while edging closer, a difficult feat when the thing was wedged between a row of kitchen countertops on one side, and a brimming garbage can on the other. Somehow, she managed to successfully avoid the traps she had unintentionally laid out for herself, and angled her eye above the doors peephole finally taking in her boogeyman.

Except before her eyes stood no boogeyman, but her newest fuck buddy, Scanlan fucking Shorthalt.

Breathing an annoyed sigh of relief that she was in fact not about to be murdered, Pike settled herself in front of the door, and started to shift the locks, swinging it open, and glaring at the shorter man with the dirtiest look she was capable of giving.

“Scanlan” she said through gritted teeth, “what are you doing?” she knew her annoyance was more than evident in her tone, and general demeanor, and a small part of her brain screamed at her that while this surprise visit may be odd, there was no need to be so cold toward him. That voice only screamed at her louder as she took in his figure, standing there in the apartment complex hallway, a wild look in his eye, phone in hand, and clothes that she could only describe as being literally thrown onto his body (with his shirts inside seams poking through his wrinkled denim jacket, and his hair tied in a bun which was in a similarly messy state to her own). “I-I just…..you didn’t….you never….it’s like 9 o’clock, Pike - to be honest I was getting really….worried” he admitted, , as he lowered his phone into his pocket. Seemingly in some sort of shock and stress of his own, his eyes staring wide at her, with something deeper in their gaze she was too angry to figure out right now.

Pike’s anger did not cease with this explanation, and the kind eyes that bored into her and her foul mood were only making her more uncomfortable as he examined her. She couldn’t for the life of her figure out why he’d be worried. They barely knew each other more than being fuck buddies, and mild acquaintances who saw each other on occasion at one party or another over the years. “No strings attached” he had told her, he had insisted on. Of course things were never going to be that simple, she supposed.

“Scanlan. Why are you worried. I’m at home, I’m fine, and I’m really tired so I could do without….whatever this is” she said, the guarded tone in her voice still heavily featured as she gesticulated at his entire body, labelling it as the this to which she was referring.

He swallowed something down before he spoke again, not moving his gaze from hers, though his eyes were slowly returning to their normal state, “I see that now. But, we were supposed to yno….whatever we were supposed to do, at like 4pm. And then I checked in with Grog to see if he knew anything and he got all worried too and so I called but there was nothing, and then I figured maybe you were just ghosting me which - that’s fine if you were-are, I suppose. I mean, not fine really cause yno, communication is key with any kind of - anyway, then I saw on the news that there was a really bad crash on Appleton and I know that’s the route you take home so I got really freaked, and…now I’m here, and you’re…well....you’re not dead anyway” He attempted to end his burst of rambling anxiety with a chuckle, but Pike was too distracted by the amount of worry he was throwing at her to notice. Despite her best efforts, Pike suddenly felt one of her many walls she built around her heart be collapsed, and she shifted uncomfortably as it did.

But, never being one to give up, or give in, or trust, Pike retained her bad mood, and after a few seconds, threw back a spikey retort, “Scanlan. We’re meeting tomorrow. Wednesday. It’s….nice you were concerned for me but, look - I’m fine” She did a sarcastic jazz hands before returning to her glaring she was sure made her look like a stroppy 16 year old, but she didn’t care. Her overwhelm needed an outlet and Scanlan was the unlucky son of a bitch who got into her line of sight.

“No, Pike. Today is Wednesday”, he said without a second thought. Pike was sure he was wrong, he had to be, but his voice carried such an air of confidence in the statement that she just couldn’t be sure. Her brows knitted together as she processed the thought that maybe he was right. Maybe today was Wednesday, maybe she had neglected to message Scanlan to let him know she couldn’t meet up after all. Maybe she was the one in the wrong. The one who’s demeanor and expression of feelings were being out of the ordinary and unfair.

Just as another wall was slowly being deconstructed, Scanlan held up his phone in front of her, a google search of ‘what day is it today?’ flickered on screen, and there in front of her it read “Wednesday, 17th August 2022. 8:56pm.”

Well shit. Pike hated when she was proven wrong by someone, especially when it was Scanlan. That last wall melted away when he pulled the phone back to himself and she looked at him again, but with a fresh, unclouded perspective. There before her stood someone she now thought was maybe more than an acquaintance. Maybe more than a fuck buddy. But that was a whole other can of worms, and to be honest, the whole unlabeled thing was working really well for her and her overthinking mind. So she let herself settle on looking at Scanlan for the first time as a friend. A good friend. A good friend who was standing in front of her, with what she could now see was genuine worry and immense care in his eyes, still transfixed on her. All for her. She started to put his words and his appearance together, realising and beginning to relate somewhat to his panic when he started to think the worst, and - fuck had he said a car crash? - “Oh, Sarenrae” Pike thought to herself “I can be a real piece of work sometimes”.

She shifted uncomfortably, and averted her gaze from him, coughing in attempts to get her words out of her throat where they seemed to be stuck. “I’m really sorry Scanlan,” she started, “I had a crazy busy day in work, I only got home about 10 minutes ago. I completely lost track of time, and day” she ended with a chuckle, and she eased as she saw him return the light laugh, himself easing in his spot.

“I honestly don’t care. You’re okay. You can have shit days and forget about me, hell you can do that whole stroppy moody thing to me everyday as long as it means your eyes are open and your heart is beating”

“Oh fuck” pike thought, and then stood there, her breath hitching slightly for a moment.

“Do you want to come in?” she asked, “I could actually do with a-....distraction”

He met her request with a smile and nodded “I would love to be your distraction”

She stood aside and let him in, the destroyed walls around her heart meaning that the quickened speed and loud thumping were hard for her to ignore, and so she didn’t. She let herself be taken by his sweet words, and later even allowed herself to cry into his shirt over the day she had, in return listening to the panic he had felt seeing that news report.

When they were finally parting ways to sleep for the evening, Scanlan happily taking the couch per her request, he reached out to grab her hand when she stepped away, “Pike. You know what it being Wednesday means?” he asked

She looked back at him with suspicion and intrigue, shaking her head in response

“You are officially on summer break, and free of all nine year olds”

She couldn't help it. She grinned a sunny grin at him, and squeezed his soft hand where it held hers.

[overthefroggymoon]

THEM.

[overthefroggymoon]

✨ Happy Witcher Season 2 yall! ✨

What a fun installment the last season was and im looking forward to more!

Also yes this was a good excuse to paint Roach as the goodest bestest prettiest good horsey.

[overthefroggymoon]

The Fringilla and Francesca ship name could be something dull like 'Frangilla' but I personally think it should be Frinfran

[overthefroggymoon]

one note from a respectable mutual on a shitty text post is worth thousands from random users

[overthefroggymoon]

loose, foot loose

put on your fuckin

[overthefroggymoon]

every day i wake up and find more new internet trends i do not Understand and every day i thank god for keeping me clueless and protected

[overthefroggymoon]

Yennefer + Fantasy of a Simple Life with Geralt and (gestating) Ciri

[overthefroggymoon]

just our boi geralt! (I wanted to end with a *chef’s kiss* and first wrote *french kiss* - WELL)