search for the perfect wave

Tattoo ♠ Shannon Leto Imagine

Dedicated to my lovely friend @meghan12151977
Words: 1,671
Triggers/Warnings: -

He laughs at his good friend on the other side, leaning on the counter. His eyes, concealed by the usual aviator sunglasses, quickly darts to the exquisite woman walking towards them. She orders her coffee, just like he likes his, and, as she reaches to take her wallet out her purse, Shannon notices the tattoo on her right forearm, near the elbow.

“Nice tattoo you got there,” He says, smiling.

The woman looks at him and then at her arm. “Oh, thanks,” She smiles at him, too, seeming not to know him.

“What it means?” Shannon asks, pulling down the sleeve of his raglan shirt to cover his own tattoo.

“Hm,” She hums, placing the dollar bill on the counter. “It’s Mars,”

“The band?” He quirks his eyebrow.

The woman frowns. “Band? No, the planet,” She shakes her head slightly.

“Oh!” Shannon says. “The red planet,”

She opens a bigger smile. “Exactly!”

“You must really love it to get it tattooed on your body,” He comments.

“You have no idea,” She replies mysteriously, opening a side smile.

This intrigues Shannon, who tilts his head, looking at her. “Oh, I’m Shannon, nice to meet you…” He offers his hand.

“(Y/N),” She says, accepting his big hand and shaking it. “It’s a pleasure to meet you,”

He looks at her for a moment, thinking about his next words. “How about grabbing a coffee and talk more about this love of yours for a planet?” Shannon asks.

She looks at her cup, now on her hands. “Well, I have a coffee…” She points out.

“Oh, right,” He chuckles and turns to his friend. “Hey Travis, can you get me one too? And some donuts,”

“Got it, boss,” Travis replies, making another coffee.

“Shall we take a seat?” Shannon asks, motioning to the tables around.

The beautiful woman nods and walks ahead Shannon, choosing a table near the window. She likes to see people walking by while she’s drinking her coffee and have a clear sight of the sky, the love of her life. As she takes a seat, the first thing she does is to look up at it, noticing how dull everything looks in the cloudy day today is.

Shannon slides to the seat right across from her and frowns, with a smile, to the tired sigh she lets out. “Everything’s okay?” He asks.

“Yeah,” She shrugs. “It’s cloudy,” She points out, looking at the sky again.

“Yes, it is, unfortunately,” He agrees. “I don’t like it, California is supposed to be sunny all the time,”

She chuckles, sipping her coffee. “I agree,”

“Tell me more about this tattoo and your love for Mars,” Shannon asks, crossing his hands over the table. But Travis shows up with his coffee and a plate filled with delicious donuts. “Thank you, Travis,”

He only nods and goes away. “What you want to know?” The woman asks, looking at him.

“Hm, what does this two dots means?” He points to the tattoo. It’s Phobos and Deimos, of course, Shannon thinks.

“It’s Phobos and Deimos,” She explains and Shannon nods. “Mars’ moons,”

Shannon raises both eyebrows. “Two moons? How fancy is that,” He chuckles and so does her.

“Yeah, pretty fancy,” She nods.

“Help yourself,” He says, pushing the donuts plate towards her. “What else can you tell me about this love?”

“I work for the NASA,” She replies absently like that’s not a big deal.

Shannon blinks. “What? That’s amazing!” He says, making her smile. “What do you do?”

The next minutes are destined to what she does at NASA and Shannon listens to it attentively, observing how much she loves what she does. The why she wanted to work at NASA required a growing up story and the way she likes just to lie on the ground at night and see the stars.

“So, it’s not just Mars?” Shannon smiles.

She shakes her head with a smile, too. “No, it’s the whole outer space,” She says.

“That’s very nice,” He says as she takes her phone.

Shannon waits in silence as she goes through her phone, looking for something. When she founds it, she turns the phone to him and looks at his face. The drummer looks at her before looking down at the device screen. To see better whatever she’s showing him, Shannon takes off his sunglasses, putting it aside.

It’s a photograph, clearly of her, with her bare back turned to the camera. In her spine, the planets are aligned, in black and gray. From the sun to Pluto, coming down right below her nape.

“Is that you?” Shannon asks anyway.

She nods, smiling. “But Mars it’s my favorite. That’s why I have it here, too,” She points to the tattoo on her forearm.

“Hey, I have something on my back, too,” He says, remembering his own tattoo.

This takes her interest, not like she wasn’t before. “Really?” She asks.

Shannon nods, looking into her eyes. “Yeah, lemme show you,” He says, giving her phone back and taking his own.

Before anything else, she realizes how beautiful is the coloring of his eyes, something she hadn’t seen yet because of the sunglasses. But the beautiful hazel eyes match perfectly with the good looks of this man.

Shannon isn’t sure if he’s gonna find a photo of his own back in his phone and he’s actually right, there’s none. But, before he gives up, he realizes that the internet does have photos of him and not just the ones on his Instagram profile. While the woman in front of him awaits with her chin rested on her palm, Shannon googles “Shannon Leto back”.

The search result comes to the perfect one: he is facing the waves, the sun is shining strongly, making the blues of the tattoo stand out from his tanned skin, just like the blues of the sky and water in front of him. The photo was from a Miami weekend and he has no idea how people got it, but it is there. Anyway, he clicks on it and shows her.

She quickly looks at it, bringing her hands to cup Shannon’s phone, consequently, touching him. “Oh, it’s the Big Blue Marble,” She says with a smile. “It’s beautiful!”

“Yes, it is,” Shannon agrees, but looking at her.

Her eyes meet his and she smiles shyly, taking her hands away. “Why did you got it?” She asks.

“Because it’s beautiful, it’s my home, my favorite planet,” He winks.

“Needs no further explanation,” She waves her hand, giggling. “I’ve talked so much about myself, but never heard anything about you except your name,” She says, resting her chin on her palm again.

“I’m not as interesting as you are,” Shannon shrugs off, looking down.

“Oh, cmon!” She protests. “That’s not fair! I deserve to know some more,”

“Really,” Shannon insists. “I’m not interesting. I don’t work at NASA,”

“Hm,” She hums. “Where do you work?”

Shannon chuckles, looking at her. “Anywhere, I have a band,” He replies.

“Really? That’s nice!” She says with an excited smile.

Her phone buzz stops her from saying something else and she takes it. The text content says she has to go now and her will to leave doesn’t exist.

“I have to go,” She warns, putting her phone inside her purse.

“Oh, okay,” Shannon says, kinda disappointed. “What are you doing?” He chuckles, watching her take off a few dollar bills out her wallet.

“I’m paying for my donuts,” She replies simply.

“Don’t do that,” He says.

She looks at him. “Well, I think the owner will mind if don’t pay,”

“Oh, no, I’m okay with it,” Shannon shakes his head, smiling.

The woman looks at him for a whole minute in silence, processing the words. “You own the shop?” She asks.

Shannon chuckles. “Yeah, I do,” He confirms.

“Wow, that’s something you could have told me,” She says. “But I’ll pay anyway,” The cash is placed on the table.

“I won’t take your money,” Shannon retorts, folding his arms.

“Ugh, really?” She gives him a stern look, which Shannon just nods. “Fine,”

She takes the money back and thrust it into her wallet, saving everything in the purse. From there, she picks a marker and takes Shannon’s paper cup, writing her phone number on it.

“We should finish this conversation another time,” She says, giving Shannon’s cup back.

Shannon reaches out to his cup, turning it around to see what she wrote. In black on the white cup, there’s her number, her name just below and a small heart punctuating it. He smiles and looks up at her.

“I agree,” He says.

Just as she nods, ready to stand up, something in Shannon’s arm catches her attention. He’s taking his arm away and she’s quick in holding it still, making Shannon frown, looking at her. Gently, she holds his wrist, looking at the colored symbols tattooed on his forearm, but the last one is half covered. She reaches out and pulls his sleeve up, revealing the Mars symbol, just like hers.

Slowly, she looks up to meet his eyes and Shannon is already looking at her, with a soft expression, waiting for her reaction. “You knew what was it,” She says softly.

“Yes, I knew,” He doesn’t deny.

“So why ask?” She inquires, not mad though.

“How else could I start a conversation with a gorgeous and intelligent woman like you?” Shannon replies.

Instead of turning him down right away, what he is expecting, she opens a smile, a true one. But her phone buzz again, remembering her that she has to go. “Good one,” She says, standing. “Call me,” She demands, bending down and leaving a kiss on Shannon’s cheek.

Once again, she surprises him. NASA employee, not turning him down, kissing him on the cheek. “I will,” Shannon guarantees, turning his head to watch her leave.

In the way to the door, she looks back and smiles at him, opening it and leaving.

                                  He’s the moon of her life. She’s his sun and stars.


What I’ve learned about life is that people may not always love you back and the timing might always be a little bit off but somehow, life always picks itself up when your back’s to the ocean. You’ll search for the perfect wave but you’ll realize that nothing’s really perfect and that nothing good will come if you’re searching for fate. My dad always told me to never ever turn your back to the ocean but I’ve always been a little naive and I was feeling lost and slightly uninspired so I thought that maybe if I stood on the beach and looked the way everyone ignores, I’d get some direction. Sometimes when you turn your back to something you love, you feel free, because often so, that very thing that you love to death is the one thing holding you out at sea when all you need is shore. I’ll tell you one thing: the wrong people are poison and the right ones are home. But it’s hard to tell the difference when your heart’s on your sleeve. You think storms are sunshine when venom’s in your brain, but that always seems to be how toxic relationships work. If I could tell myself a few months ago one thing, it would be that what you think you want, isn’t actually what you want, and you’re missing out on so much fucking life. You're missing laughter and starry nights. You’re missing sleep-filled nights and calm feelings. You’re missing peace. And no person, no matter how beautiful the idea of them is, is worth anxiety and the devaluation of your self worth. The ocean is still the ocean whether you face it or put your back to it but I’ve learned that that ideal doesn’t always apply to friends. Some people are going to hurt you. And sometimes figuring out who’s worth it and who’s not is a trial and error process. Some people look beautiful when the light hits them and touch you to the point of addiction, but addiction isn't love and the danger you feel in their presence and absence is sign the they aren’t like the ocean when you turn your back. They change. The bad news is these people will deeply affect you, the good news is that one day it won’t hurt anymore, and you’ll break free from the manipulation. Poisonous people don’t have to be forever, and I hope no one’s scared to wear their heart on their sleeve just because these people exist. Sometimes it does you good. Sometimes you learn, and sometimes it leads you in the right direction. Because I know that I have never felt more grounded than when I started to turn my back to the ocean, close my eyes, and leave my heart on my sleeve like the vulnerable person I’ve always been. I found home in some place new. I home found in calm thoughts and self acceptance. I found home in knowing the ocean is the same ocean no matter where I look. I found home in imperfect waves, and never have I ever felt more myself.

The ‘Endless Summer’ boys - The classic 1963 documentary that followed two young surfers, Robert August and Mike Hynson, with Bruce Brown behind the camera, around the world in search of the perfect wave. As they traveled the world, the film became a touchstone that inspired surfers to travel the globe following their passion.

Olicity Prompt: 8 Weeks

Okay @captainolicitysbedroom here’s your prompt: I of course devaited but I hope you’ll like it anyways. 

Prompt: Oliver very serious, trying to win Felicity’s heart before get’s married to someone else. (Important: Oliver has to stay serious and in this whole one shot.) a bit like Mr. Darcy in Bridget Jones. 

Read it here or on AO3

8 Weeks

The rain hitting the stained glass should have been a clear sign. Today was supposed to a beautiful fall day, when the crisp fall air tangled perfectly with the heat of the fading sun. He was supposed to the right guy. His fairytale good looks had drawn in her in but, it was supposed to be his personality that made her stay. Felicity stared into a pair of lifeless blue eyes. “Why did he have to be the one,” she muttered to those dead eyes. “Why can’t I just forget about the last eight weeks,” she complained while the church bells rang around her. 

“Why are you still in love with him?” she silently mused as the door knob slowly turned behind her….

8 weeks ago….

The office was bustling as usual. Everyone had a place to be or a place they needed to be before the clock struck nine. He stepped off the elevator with a dull, yet predictable thud greeting his secretary as he passed. “Morning Janet, is she here yet?” 

Janet with her fire red hair, and freckled nose smiled at him gently. “She’s waiting in your office sir.” 

He nodded curtly, “is he with her?” he asked almost out of habit while glancing down to silence the constantly buzzing phone. 

The younger woman softly sighed, “No she’s flipped the script and come on her own today.” 

Oliver glanced up starring coldly at his slightly smirking assistant. “What’s so amusing Janet?” he asked again with ice running along the curve of every word. 

Unfazed by his cold nature she let her smile brighten as she retorted back, “Take the stick out of your ass and maybe try smiling when you greet her.” 

Oliver cleared his throat, “I don’t have that sort of ease when conversing with her anymore…” 

Janet held her hand out then demanded, “Well let’s work on it so….” 

Oliver followed the line of her eyes immediately groaned in retort, “Not a chance in hell…” 

Janet persistent as the day was long began to beckon for his buzzing device with her fingers. “Phone now,” she ordered. 

He glared, “No…” 

She just chuckled and said again, “Now or I’ll book another lunch date with the ice queen for tomorrow. The choice my friend is all yours.” 

He paused. Janet was an old family friend and by old he meant she was one of the few people who knew him beyond his reputation. “Oliver…” she lightly scolded. “Humor me,” as the device once again buzzed. 

He frowned. “I should fire you for this.” 

She nodded easily, “Yes you should but we both know you won’t,” she replied simply while Oliver plopped the phone into her waiting hands. “Thank you,” she answered as he shuffled angrily to the woman beyond the partial closed doors.

Janet watched him move with those rigid, uptight shoulders. “Are you completely insane? He’s never going to change. Not even for her,” the voice on the other end of the line complained. 

Janet smirked when she saw the slight tremor in his hand as he reached for the door. “Yeah he will,” she answered just as she saw those rigid shoulders disappear behind the frosted office glass. 

“How are you so sure?” the voice replied with a small amount of annoyance. 

“Because Thea,” she verbally swatted back as the receiver erupted into small giggles. 

Keep reading

Clever Girl: Secrets a Friend Told Me

On occasion, I am reminded that I have luck. Certainly enough luck to meet clever friends, the slippery kind with two cards and five tricks up each sleeve. The kind that live between cracks and have known how to use a butterfly knife since grade school.

My luck lays with the fact I skipped their hard childhoods and learned their tricks. From stitching charms into the hems of my clothes in red thread to knowing how to pick locks and walk like a cat. Those clever friends taught me to wear underwear inside out and put salt lines on window sills. Sometimes all you need are the right words, add a dash of magic and bring to a boil.

Humans are surprisingly stupid, under a peculiar preconception that magic does not exist. Of course, they do not recognize that magic lives in every story told to small children, every cigarette stub on the street, in the sound of CD cases clicking together to search for the perfect songs in a wave of nostalgia. Tiny threads of magic weave through the daily tedium of humanity, strands of spider silk catching on the breeze.

Clever friends, clever fingers, clever little me. Luck does swing two ways though, good and bad and I’m rather familiar with both. My clever tongue has cost as much if not more than it has won. Living a human life and thinking like a fairytale creature is ridiculously confusing.

I speak rhymes and riddles, writing the words in looping script on old paper and knotting the pieces in my hair. Sometimes it’s best to carry secrets with you in plain sight.

Witch. Liar. Killer. Savior. To some it all amounts to the same thing: a little clever girl who thought she was nothing at all.