search for the perfect wave

can’t pretend anymore

grace left mississippi for a reason. she just wants to be left alone. niall is spending the summer traveling through spain searching for the perfect wave and, instead, finds grace. liam has chosen this moment to pop back up in grace’s life. she doesn’t want any of it.

a surfer niall / expat grace / tech billionaire ex liam nsfw one shot

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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. 

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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.