sea rafts

2

MYTHOLOGY MEME - [19/?] GREEK GODS/GODDESSES: LEUKOTHEA

“Kadmos’ daughter, slender-ankled Ino who is also Leukothea;

once she had been a mortal and spoken with human voice,

but now she lives in the salt seas and the gods

give her the honour that is her due.”

There are times in our lives when we have zero control over what is happening.

Like a ship at stormy sea or a raft caught in the rapids, we are carried by the momentum of our choices and all that stands between ourselves and total chaos are the reflexes entrained in us. 

In those moments, what carries us is our karma. 

How we have lived, who we have become, the kinetics of our consciousness, all of these things come into heightened play. 

It is said that this is the way at the moment of our deaths and it is what magnetizes us toward our rebirth. 

So when the skies are clear and the seas are obedient, be very deliberate about how you choose to live. You never know when the storm will come and the waves will overtake you. You must be ready. 

Use the time you have. Meditate daily, contemplate continually, question endlessly until the bedrock of your awakening stands self-revealed.

Namaste

These little specks aren’t bugs – they’re sea otters! 

Sea otters often gather in loose-knit groups called rafts. Last June, researchers spotted a huge raft of sea otters in Olympic Coast National Marine Sanctuary, near the mouth of the Hoh River. These 687 otters represent nearly 40 percent of the Washington sea otter population! While typically rafts of sea otters include only males or females and pups, this one included all three. 

(Photo: WDFW)

The Bronx: Part 7

Pairing: Reader x Peter Parker
Word Count: 2.9K
Warnings: Angst?, fluff, swearing

A/N: The finale! A huge thank you to everyone that showed this series love, through likes/reblogs/comments/feedback!

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6

~~Peter’s POV~~

“You alright, kid?” Tony’s voice sounds in Peter’s ear. Peter finally succeeds in taking out his share of the guards, knocking the final one out with a hard punch,

“Yes,” Peter replies through gritted teeth. He didn’t mean to be mean to Tony, but he was too on edge right now to worry about being polite.

The moment Peter and Tony had returned to the compound, after seeing you dragged into the quinjet and out of reach, they started planning this mission. Peter’s first real mission; one that he wouldn’t have had to fight if it weren’t for his stupidity months ago. Getting you back safely was the only way he could fix his mistake, and he was determined to do it first try.

“Through here,” Tony informs Peter when they meet up, passed out agents littering the ground. Tony leads Peter down multiple hallways and staircases, it seemed they were going deep underground. ‘How big is this facility?’ Peter wonders to himself.

Keep reading

As he wandered around, exploring the many rocks which jutted out into the sea from the beach, Algy found an old wooden crate which had been washed up by the high tide. It was a holiday weekend, and although the weather was surprisingly cold, the sun was shining and the sea was definitely blue. Algy looked at the crate, and looked at the sea, and then he looked at the crate again… and after pondering the matter for a wee while, he came to the conclusion that it was about time to enjoy some leisure activities…

Algy hopes that you will all enjoy your leisure this weekend, and if you are lucky enough to be on holiday Algy wishes you a truly wonderful time xoxo

Running Home to You

George Washington x Reader

Time Period: Canon Era

Words: 2,263 (i keep getting carried away with the word count, there ! :o )

Warnings: Nothing much ? Just mentions of war ?

Tags: (*cries because this is my first tag tysm* ; - ;) @nervous-crossbow

A/N: Hi everyone! So basically I heard this song, fell in love, and tried my hand at a songfic for the first time ! I am so sorry it takes so long for me to write ! 
I literally have like five stories (including that one request) that are halfway done but I can’t seem to finish them ! Again, sorry ! :(

BUT IN OTHER NEWS !!! I’VE REACHED A HUNDRED FOLLOWERS !!! I am so very honored thank you all so very very much *ugly sobs* ; U ; 

I hope you all like this ! Please tell me if it’s okay or what I can do to improve it ! Feedback is the absolute best and thank you to all who give me any type of feedback !

Without further ado ! Enjoy !

Originally posted by romanovass



Can’t say how the days will unfold

Can’t change what the future may hold



She had received another letter from the battlefield. The courier had arrived not long ago, and upon seeing the name of the sender, (Name) had rushed to her room and all but tore open the envelope.

George had sent her a missive.

Reading the words, her heart grew heavy - as if the sentences were weights upon her chest, making it infinitely harder to breathe.

They had lost yet another battle. There was no official number of casualties as of yet, but George expected them to be plentiful. But that was not the worst part. Now, the army would settle into their winter encampments at Valley Forge. 

Already, George had received reports of disease claiming the lives of his soldiers - appendages lost to frostbite because the army could not spare no shoe nor glove. George knew they were low on rations, and starvation seemed inevitable.

The general knew very well he could lose half his army to the unforgiving winter ahead, and with the dollar devaluing as much as it had, he was unsure of their ability to finance another campaign.

With all odds stacked so clearly against their favor, hope was as scarce a resource as the food on their tables.

This was the end of the revolution.



But I want you in it

Every hour, every minute



(Name) couldn’t stifle the sob that escaped her lips at the sight of the written words.

The script was untidy and almost unreadable - as if her husband’s hand had shaken profusely upon writing. The ink ran where teardrops that had long-since dried fell; black smudges at the margins where fingers hastily tried to wipe the salty drops away.

She buried her face in her hands as her heart bled with the pain of it all. Never had she felt so helpless. So unable to do anything to help the man she loved so dearly, when his world was crashing down around him.

Her place was at his side; to be there to take his hand even when they faced the darkest of times. 

So why, then, was she here - beyond her husband’s reach when he needed her most? 



This world can race by far too fast

Hard to see while it’s all flying past



There seemed to be new developments everyday. News of battles that would shape the outcome of this gruesome war.

In such charged times, rumors were as common as the events themselves - taking on such detail and life that they resembled reality.

She wondered if there would come a day when her heart wouldn’t stop when she heard someone whispering of her husband’s rumored capture.

Now, however, fighting was at a standstill as the armies retreated into their winter camps. In those freezing quarters, it would be a fight for survival - the chill as lethal as bullets and bayonets. Here, even the greatest of generals could not outmaneuver the hunger their men had to suffer - helpless and unable to fight back.

And George… he would be alone. Nothing but his darkest thoughts to keep him company on the long, winter nights. Blaming himself. Loathing himself. Suffering.

It was those thoughts that finally made the decision (Name) had been debating upon for some time now.

The answer was quite simple: she could not let that happen.



But it’s clear now

When you’re standing here now



“Please tell the coachman to ready the carriage. I shall ride for Pennsylvania tonight.”



I am meant to be

Wherever you are next to me



It was a ten-day journey - traversing over hundreds of miles to reach the military encampment. A weariness had settled into (Name)’s bones from the unforgiving travel.

But that did not matter.

Not when she was getting closer and closer to her husband with each turn of the wheel. Not when she felt as if she could nearly burst with happiness at the prospect of seeing him again. Of having the chance to be there for him and to console him - to take him into her arms for he would have no one else’s.

She could not keep the smile from her face at the thought. 

To be his wife.

He did not have to face the dark winter alone any longer. Not when she would be there.

Outside, the dark forest, faintly lit by the light of the moon, passed by. (Name) gazed out the window - determination shining clearly in her eyes.

‘I am on my way, George.’



All I want to do 



“Sir? There is a woman at the door, asking for you.”

“A woman?” George questioned, looking up from his writing in confusion. Another letter to congress, begging for supplies.

“Yes sir,” the soldier continued. “She says it’s urgent.”

The general’s brow furrowed.

“I have five minutes. Send her in.”



Is come running home to you

Come running home to you



“Five minutes, George? I’m quite certain you have more time than that.”

The quill in the commander-in-chief’s hand froze mid-stroke. The ink began to blot as the stain grew wider - effectively ruining the letter and ensuring he would have to rewrite the missive.

But George could not bring himself to care. 

He knew that voice. With its tone colored in amusement, and the smile practically visible in the words…

But it could not be.

She was hundreds of miles from him, in the safety of their home. Perhaps he was imagining things.

But… did he dare to hope?

With a shaky breath, the general raised his eyes from the piece of parchment.

And like an impossible wish granted, there she was.

His eyes were wide with awe and disbelief - a single word ringing in his stupefied mind.

’(Name).’



And all my life I promise to 

Keep running home to you



In great strides that bordered a run, George swiftly closed the distance between them, and took his wife into his arms.

He embraced (Name) as tightly as he could without hurting her. His hold was almost desperate - a strong hand resting protectively behind her head to shield her from the world outside.

And if (Name) could feel hot moisture trickle from where her husband’s face was buried in the crook of her neck - she did not mention it.



Keep running home…



“You cannot be here, dearest,” said George urgently, eyes almost frantic when he fully realized the dangers of their situation.

To this, however, (Name) smiled with eyebrows raised - as if taking the worried words as a challenge.

“If you think I am leaving you to brave this winter alone, you are sorely mistaken, my dear.”

Adamantly, the commander shook his head.

No. I will not have you in danger. I will not risk it. I need you safe, (Name). I need you to go home, this instant.”



To you.



“I am home, George.”


Oh, and I could see it

Right from the start 

Right from the start



From there, everything had changed.

The soldiers and staff could see it; the way the general walked with something of a spring in his step. He was more sure, more hopeful. His voice was clear and confident - his decisions certain and precise.

His troops could notice the change as well - the commander’s new-found vigor, boosting morale and spreading hope amongst the army like a wildfire.

And ever-beside the great commanding officer was his wife - never faltering in her duties as the Mrs. General.

The soldiers smiled to themselves whenever they caught sight of the couple.

It appears Mrs. Washington had packed the renewed spirit of the army in her trunks.



That you would be

Be my light in the dark 

Light in the dark



When spring came, and the snow melted, the fighting inevitably resumed. (Name) knew of the risk of staying with the army in these times, and knew it was far too dangerous to remain. And so she exchanged a somber goodbye with her husband, before returning to Virginia.

But in some ways, it felt as if she had not left.

Her letters kept the flame of hope blazing brightly in the general’s heart. In the most trying of times, she was George’s beacon of hope - his raft upon sea. She was not there in person, no - but he felt as if she was still near. As if still with him in heart and spirit.

She was there, by his side, through the bloody battles - when the smoke of gunpowder choked his lungs and it seemed all was lost.

She was there when he grappled with congress for supplies - his frustration, near-overwhelming.

She was there when his nightmares woke him in the wee hours of dawn.

There when they finally began to win more and more victories over the enemy.

There when he began to prepare battle strategies for final attack.

And she was there, by his side, when Cornwallis surrendered his troops at Yorktown.



Oh, you gave me no other choice but to love you



On the 3rd of September, 1783, Washington received word that their delegation had signed the Treaty of Paris, containing the British terms of surrender.

And for a few seconds, he could do nothing but sit in stupefied silence.

Against all odds, they had done it. 

They had won.



All I want to do



It was nighttime when the carriage crossed the border into Virginia. Foreign fields transformed into familiar landscapes - into panoramas he knew well since childhood. And at the sight, George Washington could not help the tears that sprang to his eyes.

For so long, he wondered if he would ever be able to return. On those infinitely long nights - miles and miles away, in a camp with his army - he feared he had bid the place of his birth his final farewell. He knew not if his endeavors would end with a victory, or end at the gallows. If he would be able to come out of the war alive, or if he would perish with the rest of his men.

But now… all of that was over.

And he was coming home.

The carriage moved swiftly, but not nearly as fast as George would have wanted.

How could one be patient, when their home was so close after being out of reach for so long? How could one be patient, when the love of their life was on the other side?

‘Just a little longer,’ George thought to himself. 

'I’m coming home, (Name).’



Is come running home to you

Come running home to you



At Mount Vernon, a piece of parchment found its way into the hands of (Name) Washington from the courier.

On it were four simple words, written hastily - tears staining the cheeks of both author and recipient.

'Will be home soon.’



And all my life I promise to

Keep running home to you



It was dawn when (Name) saw the carriage coming - like a scene she had imagined so many times before. 

She did not know for certain who its passenger was. It could very well have been another acquaintance or perhaps even a tradesman.

But her heart - oh, it was screaming George’s name.

And so against all logic and reasoning, she ran.

She knew it was undignified for her to do so. Unladylike. Unbecoming of a woman of her stature to run like a youngling in a game of tag.

And it did not matter the slightest bit. Not when George was on the other side.

So she kept running.



Keep running home…



He did not know what made him do it. It was instinct - a tug in his heart he knew well never to ignore. It went against all sense; he was mere seconds away from the front doors of his home.

But he did it anyway.

“Stop the carriage,” he barked almost urgently to the coachman. 

He nearly pitched forwards at the abrupt stop, and tumbled almost clumsily out of the carriage - his footing not quite so secure.

But then he looked up, and what he saw made his heart swell and his eyes water.

Because his wife was there - smiling more radiantly than a thousand suns because he was home and he was safe.

And she was running towards him.

His feet were moving - leaping, striding, before he could even think of what to do next. Then suddenly, propriety was worth as much as a handful of ash, and he was running towards her with an urgency he had never felt before in all his time on earth.

She was getting closer.

And closer.



Home to you



And when they met, the world melted away - fading to the background and of no consequence whatsoever.

Suddenly, all the struggle, the heartache, the worry; years of tears and fear and helplessness and hopelessness… it meant nothing.

Her husband was back home to her - breathing - alive. So wonderfully, wonderfully alive. And nothing on the face of the earth mattered except the man she had in her arms.

And for the battle-worn general, everything else could rot in hell for all he cared.

Because he had his wife now. That was all that ever mattered.

He was home.



Can’t say how the days will unfold

Can’t change what the future may hold



Neither of them knew what would happen in the days or the months or the years to come. What hurdles lay ahead - what seemingly insurmountable mountains they would have to climb. Their role in the birth of this nation was not yet finished - on the contrary, just beginning - and the future would not be an easy one. It never was.


…But now was not the time to worry about such things.

Now, the sun was rising above the horizon.

Now, husband and wife were reunited.


And that was everything.



But I want you in it

Every hour, every minute…