On 26 July 1513 James IV responded to pleas for assistance from France and declared war on England.  This was the lead up to the biggest loss against England at Flodden, in 1512, King James had formally renewed the ‘Auld Alliance’, between Scotland and France.  If England attacked France, Scotland would be required to fight alongside France. In early 1513,he formally offered peace to Henry VIII, provided he did not attack France.  This proposal was rejected by Henry. In the meantime, ties between France and Scotland were strengthened.  A French envoy, La Motte, came to the Scottish court, bringing wine, gun powder and other munitions, together with some English ships he captured on his journey.
The French Queen, Anne of Brittany, sent James IV 14,000 crowns and a ring of gold and turquoise with a letter couched as if to a lover, imploring James IV to be her ‘true knight’ and to invade England, if England attacked France. Queen Margaret beseeched King James not to invade England and asked “Why he preferred the Queen of France to her his wife, the mother of his children, whom he had wedded in her girlhood.” She was also Henry VIII’s sister. The concerns of the French court were justified, as, in June 1513, King Henry VIII, with a large army, invaded France.  In compliance with his treaty obligations, King James IV prepared to invade England.James IV’s Queen and his nobles were deeply worried and urged James not to take such a drastic step. Margaret withdrew to a tower in Linlithgow Palace, to watch King James leave for Edinburgh and the invasion of England.  The tower is known as Queen Margaret’s Bower.  This was the last time the Queen saw her husband. James was a popular king and his call to arms was enthusiastically received in all quarters of Scotland.  The Scottish Army began to gather at Edinburgh in August 1513.

&— “Five years of peace and gratitude,” Marcel grabbed a drink that was offered to him, “Here’s to centuries more!” he rose his glass along with others, taking a drink before he felt someone behind him. “And what can I help you with?”

White person: I really understand what black people are going through. The Boondocks is an American adult animated sitcom on Cartoon Network’s late-night programming block, Adult Swim. Created by Aaron McGruder, based upon his comic strip of the same name, the series premiered on November 6, 2005. The show begins with a black family, the Freemans, settling into the fictional, peaceful, and mostly white suburb of Woodcrest. The perspective offered by this mixture of cultures, lifestyles, social classes, stereotypes, viewpoints and racial(ized) identities provides for much of the series’ satire, comedy, and conflict.


“I don’t ever want to sing for any other reason, especially now that I’m older, I only want to sing when it’s for a purpose—to change.”

Did I offer peace today? Did I bring a smile to someone’s face? Did I say words of healing? Did I let go of my anger and resentment? Did I forgive? Did I love? These are the real questions. I must trust that the little bit of love that I sow now will bear many fruits, here in this world and the life to come.
—  Henri Nouwen

concept: the enterprise landing on a planet with lots of plants and chekov picking flowers for everyone and making flower crowns that best match their shirt colours

uhura would put the flower in her hair, smile, and thank chekov

sulu would kiss chekovs forehead, and put the flower in the room where all his plants are kept

scotty would nod and smile as a thank you, and when chekov walks away hed turn to keenser and say something like ‘aye, why canne ya be as nice as that lad’

kirk would ruffle chekovs hair and place the flower somewhere safe on his captains chair

bones would be grumpy and probably say something like ‘god damn it boy those flowers might be carrying a deadly disease’ but after double checking hed feel bad and thank chekov for it

and finally spock would be very confused by it, saying ‘we are on the same ship, i do not need a peace offering’ but chekov insists its a gift of friendship, spock smiles a little and places it neatly next to his badge

Kai and Callie: Bonus thing 2

“Do you think there’s really something in Hogwarts castle?” Callie asked while they were on their rounds. “I’ve heard an acromantula escaped from the Forbidden Forest.”

Kai snorted, a bit derisively. “I heard it was a dementor.” he replied. “Someone even told me it was Voldemort himself. Callie, don’t pay attention to rumours.”

“You know what they say about rumours, though.” She scanned the area around them a bit apprehensively. “There’s always a bit of truth to them.”

“It doesn’t matter. McGonagall will deal with it.” He looked around too, and it was a good thing he did. “Look- there’s a kid out of bed. He looks lost.”

Kai went to speak to the child, while Callie ended up wandering around the general perimeter waiting for him. That was not a usual arrangement, and retrospectively Kai couldn’t figure out or remember how they’d gotten to it. But he’d been figuring out what led a Ravenclaw first year this far from the towers at night when he heard a scream, and he knew it was Callie’s.

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“I have told you these things, so that in Me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.” John 16:33
None of us are exempt from trouble. But Jesus, in the midst of your trial tells you to take heart, which means to: be encouraged, to have hope, to be bold and confident, to not give up, to be of good cheer, to have courage, and to cheer up! Before He even mentions the word trouble, He talks about a peace the we can have that is exclusive, that is found in Jesus alone- He said, “In Me you have peace.” This peace cannot be found in anything the world offers. Not drugs, not alcohol not even meditation. Only Jesus!
Lord Jesus, I have been running to people and running for help instead of running to You. I need Your peace, Lord. Please fill me right now with the peace You alone can give. Amen

Five Kisses between Shiro and Lance Ch. 1/5 (Shance fanfic for y-annah)

It’s been a godawful week at work and I’ve been insomniac for days and I can feel all of my bosses just judging me for getting so little work done at such an urgent period in the company’s business expansion to the neighbouring countries. All because my brain just won’t shut up about Voltron and how little Shance fan works are around so far.

Anyhoo, this one’s a gift/peace offering to @y-annah who’s given me the most awesome headcanons of Shiro and Lance. This fic will be the first of five loosely connected drabbles centering on Shance, because putting a manly hunk together with a hyperactive dork is apparently my kink.

And y-annah, this is pretty safe for work, I promise.

Read it after the cut!

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Offering (RWBY AU Snippet)

Of all the gods in Remnant, there were few so feared as Death. Oh, a wise mortal feared and revered all the gods, but a wise or lucky mortal might also be able to avoid most of them. There were peaceful places where the gods of war seldom walked, and there were places of warmth and safety where the gods of pestilence and sickness were rarely present.

But mortals were destined to know Death, and so all mortals made offerings to Death in the hope that the encounter would only come after a long and peaceful life. Different gods demanded all manner of offerings. Some demanded wealth in gold and jewels. Others demanded wheat and livestock. And still others demanded sacrifice of an altogether darker variety.


Death asked for something far simpler: a plate of cookies, a glass of milk, and some strawberries.

It was a strange demand, and there were many who questioned why so powerful a god would desire such a thing. But the priests and priestesses of Death were adamant, and so, at least once each year, all wise families would go to make their offering of cookies, milk, and strawberries at one of Death’s many temples.

It became common, too, for families to have their children submit the offering. Perhaps they could win Death’s favour, for the world could be a cruel place, and children were often the first to suffer.

To see Death while submitting an offering was said to be either a great blessing or a terrible curse, and it was often difficult to know which one it would be for many years.

X     X     X

Princess Weiss Schnee could not help but tremble as she walked alongside her family into Death’s temple. It was a glorious place, wrought of the finest materials and decorated with vivid combinations of crimson, silver, and black. The scythe - Death’s symbol - was a frequent motif, along with the great cloak, red as blood, that Death was said to wear over clothing as dark as the dead of night.

It was her turn to submit the offering, and as one of the princesses of the Kingdom of Atlas, Weiss would be submitting it in the inner chapel, a place accessible to only the holiest of clerics and the most noble of nobles. 

They reached the entrance to the chapel, and her father nodded at her.

“Go on, Weiss. Submit our offering.”

With trembling hands, Weiss took the plate of cookies and strawberries and the glass of milk. As was his custom, her father had arranged for the finest bakers to craft the cookies in their offering, and he had chosen only the most delicious of strawberries from the very best of farms, as well. Likewise, the milk was of the highest quality.

Slowly, Weiss made her way into the chapel. There was no one else within, and the candles inside cast light upon the stained-glass windows that depicted scenes involving Death. There was Death smiting the people of Mountain Glenn who had sinned against the gods and invited demons into the world. Elsewhere, Death stood amidst the four seasons. It was said that the goddess of summer had given birth to Death and in doing so had become the first soul that Death ever took into her domain. Yet Death loved her mother, so each year, she let Summer free to walk the world once more, if only for a time.

It was said too, that Death would have dearly loved to let her mother go, but there were rules that not even Death could break.

Slowly, carefully, Weiss went forward to place the offering at the base of the statue at the front of the chapel. It was a statue of Death: a tall woman with a scythe whose features were obscured behind a hooded cloak. Yet, as she climbed the stairs to the statue, she tripped. 

The cookies and strawberries scattered across the floor. The glass of milk broke, and its contents spilled out onto the steps.

Weiss cried out. This was terrible. She was only a girl, but she had heard stories of what happened to those who  offended Death. This offering was supposed to win her favour, but Weiss had dropped it. What was she supposed to do now? Her father would undoubtedly scold her terribly if she told him what had happened. But, surely, it would be improper to simply gather up the offering and submit it anyway. The cookies and strawberries had touched the floor, and the milk had spilt.

What was she supposed to do?

Her father must have heard the sound, for he entered the chapel. Weiss turned to him at once.

“Father -”

“Weiss!” Her father’s voice cracked out like a whip. “What have you -”

The words died in his throat, and his gaze snapped to something behind her. A chill filled the room, and Weiss felt the edges of a cloak brush against her back. Something clanked into the stone steps in front of her, and she froze as she realised that it was the shaft of a large scythe wrought of a material so black that it seemed to drink in the candlelight.

Weiss didn’t want to turn around. She knew who was standing behind her. In front of her, her father had fallen to his knees and pressed his face to the floor.

“Please,” her father begged. “Please…”

And then he could speak no more, for that eerie chill grew so sharp that the very air seemed afraid to carry her father’s voice. Almost as though she was a puppet whose strings were being pulled, Weiss found herself turning.

Death stood before her. The stories had spoken truly. Death was tall, and her hooded cloak was as red as blood. It moved almost as if it were alive although no wind or breeze stirred the chapel. Beneath it, Death was clothed in the night itself.

And above her, beneath the hood, were a pair of eyes like silver stars.

Weiss could not speak. 

Death stared into her eyes and then, like it was the most natural thing in the world, she bent down and picked up one of the cookies that had landed on top of the others and thus never touched the floor. Slowly, she raised it to her lips and took a bite of it. A smile crossed her lips, and Death reached down, dragging one finger down Weiss’s face over her left eye.


And then Death was gone, and Weiss’s father was pulling her into his arms, eyes widening as he took in the scar that Death had left, the one that marked Weiss as Death’s Chosen. 


sleepless in a nightgown stinted like moonlight
the lace forlorn against my cold body

i’m gilded tongue, rosewater rinds, the jeweled 
evening’s soft mumbled lullaby 

pained by every crook of your belligerent bones,
the thudded heart spits out a peace offering

a kiss of candlelight for your winter-fractures, 
embossed like silvered embers and the brocade,

like the tips of your hair or sifting through the 
smokescreen of a madly grinning country

i see how you flirt with the rain, the way the 
stars ride your eyes like blurring trains 

the night and all her sisters, attuned to the 
sand & silt of your familiar touch, the

sorrowed veins of sempiternal dreams
and the frosted novices of sparrows 

brimming tears or fugacious flowers 
curling into the lantern of restlessness.

more fake ah crew au where jeremy and ray are in the crew at the same time!!!!!!!!!

  • while ray is excited to have another crew member he keeps his distance from jeremy 
  • jermey takes notices but is told that ray is just elusive and it has nothing to do with jeremy
  • jermey takes it to heart though and decides to start giving ray peace offerings (mostly super high quality joints that you only get from the best of the best drug cartels)
  • of course ray is more than happy to take the offerings and goes to his normal roof top hideout to smoke them
  • after one particular deal jeremy manages to find ray’s out out and joins him on the roof, their feet just dangling over the side of the building
  •  ray offers a smoke and jeremy refuses it
    • all of this a non verbal exchange 
  • these meet ups happen every sunday evening, a quiet time to just look out over the peaceful city
  • that is until jeremy mentions that he sees why ray likes it up here, its calming
  • in which ray just shakes his head with a smirk and grabs his rocket launcher to shoot off
    • ‘i come up here to see how much one rocket can destroy… pretty fucking funny’
  • their new routine becomes them throwing a grenade or shooting a rocket launcher to see who can do more destruction from one shot
    • it’s always sunday night while ray smokes and jeremy refuses it
A slight cold || Steve Rogers x Reader

A/N : I’ve been kinda inactive with imagines for so long and im so sorry. Here’s some Steve Rogers as a peace offering for you guys not to unfollow us.

ORIGINAL REQUEST: prompt 21,22 and 25 with Steve Rogers.

PROMPT 21:“I could have died ! ”
“You tripped over it !!”
“I could have died !”

PROMPT 22 :“uhhhh I’m dying ”
“Calm down drama queen, it’s just a cold ”

PROMPT 25 : “will you cuddle with me ?”/

Steve Rogers had been trained to deal with a multitude of situations. It came alongside being in the army , being Captain America and being an Avenger. However , he still wasn’t trained enough to not let out an exclamation of surprise when he entered his house to find his girlfriend face down on the floor.When you told him you were sick , this was not what he was expecting , not even to the slightest . Without even taking off his coat he rushed towards you ,
“(Y/N) , are you okay ? ”
“Uhhhh I’m dying ” you groaned your voice all messed up because of the cold and sounding more like a frog than yourself.
“Calm down , drama queen , it’s just a cold ” Steve soothed as he put an hand under your forearm , nudging you to sit up.
“I really should remove my coffee table ” you contemplated “ i could have died because of it ”
“(Y/N), you tripped over it ! ”
“I could have died ! You don’t even know.! You weren’t there ! ” you yelled , regretted it immediately as your scratchy throat started to hurt again.
“I found you on the floor near the coffee table, it doesn’t take a genuis to figure out what happened ” Steve countered.

However when he saw that you made no effort to reply and let out another groan , he dropped whatever he was going to say , shaking his head slightly as he grabbed your arms and very easily helped you to your feet. Winding his arm around your waist , he allowed you to lean to his side. But the cold was really taking a toll on you and you could feel your head getting cloudy and the next step you took almost resultied in you falling falling down again but Steve quickly caught you , steadying you. Shaking his head slightly , he just scooped you into his arms. Not all that difficult for him , really.
“Let’s get you to bed , shall we ?” He asked as you nuzzled your face into his neck.
“One condition, will you cuddle with me ? ”
“I promise ”


Pick a Name

Warning(s): Some swearing, pregnancy(?)

Author’s Note: I am so sorry for the long absence. I’ve had no motivation to write. I’m going to do my best to get back in my groove and get some stories up for ya.

Anyway, as a peace offering for my absence, have some fluff and smiles.

Originally posted by mystrana

Seven months ago, you and your at-the-time-boyfriend broke up. Seven months ago you found out you were pregnant. Last month you found out you were having a boy. Last month Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes, your best friends, began their dispute on what you should name your son.

“I’m just saying, Y/N should name the kid ‘James’. I mean, come on, ‘James’ is great.” Bucky says, gesturing with his hands as he speaks, as he walks into the living room.

“‘James’ has nothing on ‘Steven’. ‘Steven’ can be shortened down to ‘Steve’ if the kid wants, and if the kid ends up being a doctor, or something just as prestigious, ‘Steven’ is good for that, too.”

You turn around in your seat on the couch where you were watching T.V. You notice as Bucky rolls his eyes, but as soon as he notices you’re in the room, he smiles widely and makes his way over to you.

“So what do you think, Y/N? ‘James’,” Bucky asks, throwing you a wink, “or ‘Steven’? Bucky shakes his head.

You roll your eyes and turn back to the T.V.

“Yeah, Y/N, which one? Personally, I think you should choose ‘Steven’. I am your best friend.”

“Hey, I’m her best friend too!” Bucky argues, which puts a smile on your face.

“Yeah, well, how does neither sound?” You say, glancing over at the boys to see their facial expressions at the comment. You’re not disappointed and only smile wider when you see their mock hurt expressions.

“Neither? That’s not allowed! I call cheating!” Bucky says, grinning.

“So you picked a name, then?” Steve asks, moving to sit beside you.

“Ding! Ding! Ding! We have a winner!”

“Well, what is it?” Bucky asks, putting his arm around your shoulders.

“It’s neither ‘James’ nor ‘Steven’, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“I got that, Y/N. What less amazing name than ‘James’ did you pick?”

You laugh. “Taylor.”

Bucky makes a face and gives Steve a look before turning back to you. “Taylor? Isn’t that a girls’ name?”

“It is, yes.” You say patiently, waiting to see if one of them would understand what you were getting at. When they were still just giving you questioning looks, you take a deep breath and explain. “I had another ultrasound today. Doctor Shepherd was looking at the monitor when she realized my little boy is actually a little girl. She was situated a little funny and fooled us.”

Steve and Bucky laugh.

“Well,” Bucky says, leaning down to talk to your belly, “you little tease, I can’t believe you made me and your Uncle Steve do all that fighting about who you should be named after when you were a little girl all along,” Bucky pauses, thinking, before he continues, “Well, I guess ‘Steve’ would have worked anyway. He is kind of a girl.”

You smack Bucky’s head. “Hey! I will be having no sexist comments around my baby or myself. If I wasn’t pregnant and making a human right now, I’d kick your ass and show you just how much ‘girl’ is an insult!”

Bucky just laughs, Steve with him, and soon you’re laughing too. “Yeah, okay. I believe you. But, to be honest, I don’t know how much better swearing around your kid is.” You smirk and stick your tongue out at him childishly.

“Guys?” You ask, leaning your head on Steve’s shoulder. They hum in response. “Thank you. For being there for me, I mean. You’ve both been a great help.” Bucky looks over at you and smiles, and you know Steve is smiling down at you even though you can’t be bothered to look. “I appreciate you guys. And one thing is for certain,” you move your hand to cradle your belly, “Taylor is going to be extremely loved.”

“Yeah, she is.”

GIFs are not mine