#Aigremoine

[ochoislas]

Se tiende la paz del campo junto a la ermita y en el cruce polvoriento, entre las avenas, la yerbabuena, la achicoria y la agrimonia, se levanta un gran Cristo en cuyo vano leño anidan las abejas. Y en el sol se ven ir y venir, colmas de miel, las laboriosas, como negras letras escritas en el cielo.

¿Qué pábulo a su Dios darían, sino miel?

[...]

*

La paix des champs s’étend autour de la chapelle. Et, au carrefour poudreux, parmi les avoines, les menthes, les chicorées et les aigremoines, se dresse un grand Christ de bois creux où les abeilles ont fait leur nid. Et on peut voir, dans le soleil, aller, venir, ces affairées pleines de miel comme des lettres noires écrites dans le ciel.

De quoi nourrir son Dieu si ce n’est pas de miel?

[...]

Francis Jammes

di-versión©ochoislas

[tisane-et-jardin]

Astringente

Définition La plante astringente contracte et resserre les tissus des muqueuses. Elle raffermit les muqueuses enflammées, les rend moins perméables et réduit les pertes de liquide (sang, diarrhées, lymphe…). En excès, l’astringence peut constiper, irriter et nuire à l’absorption des nutriments. L’astringence n’est pas une saveur mais une sensation bio-mécanique. Lorsqu’un produit astringent est…

[seijch]

#16 👁

make me work on my wips!!

16 13. the edge of dawn, a kuroo fe3h au

continued from this 👁

your throat is dry. painfully so, even -- it feels like sandpaper, the feeling only exacerbated when you make yourself aware of each swallow, each breath. what happened? the memory is hazy, but you do your best to follow the mental trail regardless.

your leg, an arrowhead lodged into it as you hobbled towards him. kuroo, bleeding out.

(unbidden, you remember the jokes you had made about him being a god, about being untouchable as the poison crept into his system.)

your blood, mixed with his.

(he was no god, no heavensent messiah.)

he wanted you to leave while you still could.

(he was flesh and bone, with a dream you both needed to see through.) 

then, the javelins of light.

“you’re awake.” there’s sweat on kenma’s forehead as he parts the tent flap. “good.” you want to ask about kuroo, but the thought of speaking sounds like torture of the highest order. thankfully, kenma hands you a flask of water and pretends not to see the water trickling down your chin as you finish off its contents.

“kuroo’s alive.” some of the tension in your body leaves, drifting away with your sigh of relief. “but he’s not doing well.”

that’s enough to make your whole being tighten. “where is he?” you ask, trying to sit up. it doesn’t work, pain shooting up your leg as though you had just been wounded. “kenma.”

“that healer from karasuno is with him. now, sit still. this is gonna hurt.”

[lxveille]

18, 19, 23!

18. Do you have a WIP that you keep telling yourself you’ll eventually get back to, but deep down you know that’s probably a lie?

lmao so many???? the second part of “easy as...” probably won’t happen, and even though i really like the fence!au i don’t think i’ll ever get around to the longer installment of it that i started drafting and writing ages ago.

19. Do you edit your fics after you write them, or do you prefer to just hit post and run (because it’s someone else’s problem now)?

i do some editing as i write and try to do at least one edit read after all the scenes are down. except for flash fics, which i usually just write and post !!

23. What’s your absolute favorite trope to write?

i think part of the reason i like to write dystopian/post-apocalypse aus is because i like writing the hurt/comfort trope ??? and also the whole ‘finding love/peace/happiness in an otherwise cruel place’ thing -- if that counts as a trope.

there’s probably fluffier tropes that i write a lot too but i don’t think i’ve noticed as much of a pattern for those. drunken and/or sudden confessions or compliments are pretty great, tbh, but i don’t think i’ve written them that much? also Longing Stares and Near Kisses, but again i don’t think i’ve written them as much?

[testeuse13]

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[misterrightscenarios]

agdnehahJAhsjsva I chOKED

[svt-kismet]

who are some of your favourite svt writer? i see you reblog so many people but there has to be a few you really like to read from. i'm in a dying need of new writers to follow

hi! i do reblog a tonnn of people KSJFJF my current favorites are @thetypingpup (their lawyer au’s are just chef’s kiss), @skydivingstars , and @boogerines !!

[dinoshaur]

title: v for vandal characters: kwon soonyoung x reader genre: romance, fluff, superhero!reader, graffiti tagger!soonyoung, 5+1 things warnings: swearing, vandalism (graffiti), passing mention of guns, mention of robbery, mention of a bus accident, minor injuries, minor suggestive content (sfw) words: 2.6k  a/n - a big thank you to @aigremoine​ for helping me read this over and giving the best reactions ever, ilysm c:

the five times soonyoung vandalises something, and the one time you do. (or, you’re a tired superhero and soonyoung can’t stop leaving graffiti everywhere.)

one.

You are currently having an incredibly bad day, thank you very much.

The case files from the neighbouring precinct were accidentally brought over with evidence from the NCT heist from weeks ago, causing the entire police task force to be completely behind everything. 

This meant having to carry out your hero duties without your usual squad feeding information into your ear, which in turn meant that you did not see the comically large villain barrelling out from the side of a bank and right into oncoming traffic. Which, of course, meant that there was not only heavy damage to infrastructure, but also having to fill out forms at the office about why nearly fifteen civilians might need therapy from seeing a half-lizard-half-man bank robber go splat against the pavement after being hit by a bus. Which is how you end up here: temporarily demoted and trying to talk a graffiti artist from tagging the (unimportant) statue of a well-known superhero. 

So yeah, your day’s going fucking swell.

“No need to be so rude,” he chides, “I was just being polite.” 

“Spare me,” you deadpan, crossing your arms over your chest as you stare him down. Your suit feels uncomfortably hot and sticky against your limbs; spandex – yet another ridiculous company requirement for heroes. “Just leave the spray cans and go, will you? I seriously do not have the energy to do this back and forth thing.” 

The vandal pouts, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans. His gas mask is slung over his neck, a utility belt with numerous different spray cans hanging from his waist. Bright red hair peeks out from underneath the hood of his jacket. You feel another exasperated sigh rising; the punishment for failing to catch a criminal is dealing with delinquent college students, huh? 

You walk over, closing the distance as you speak, “Don’t make me use my powers, kid.” 

“Kid?” he laughs. The audacity- god, is that a migraine coming on? You nearly scream an expletive. “We’re the same age, Psyche.”

An eyebrow twitches; you can quite literally feel a vein about to pop on your forehead. Curse the public hero records. You take a large, steadying breath. The snap of your fingers yanks the spray cans from his waist and into oblivion. One flick of your wrist in the tagger’s direction lifts him off the ground, his startled yelp echoing through the deserted park. You flash him a disinterested grin and, snapping a fist shut, watch as he promptly disappears from your vision. Ah, the amazing power of psychokinesis. 

Another day, another statue saved. 

Still grumbling about the incident from this morning, you make your way towards the nearest McDonald’s. A McFlurry might just save you from telekinetically dumping hot coffee over your boss’s head when you return to the office. 

You wake up the next morning to twenty texts and several dozen missed calls from the company. The first thing you see on Twitter is a photo of a tiger’s head graffiti-ed on the side of the bank from yesterday. Around it, colourful letters in bright purple that matches your suit reads: lovely to meet you Psyche! xoxo Hoshi.

A lightbulb shatters.

two.

“Psyche, you’ve got a job.” 

You get up from your desk at the mention of your alias and retrieve the file from your manager. Excitement races through you at the thought of a case; sitting at a desk these past days has been torture. “Am I finally going to be allowed back on the field? It’s been a while since the bank.” 

“Technically.” 

The excitement fizzles out. You gape at the man before you, stumped, fingers halted from edging the file open. “Well,” S.Coups shrugs, a sheepish hand rubbing against the back of his silver head. “You’ll be heading out but you’re not going to like why.” 

You flip open the file and immediately groan. Not again-

“Hello, Psyche!” he beams at you from beside a half-done graffiti of a sleeping tiger. “I hope your day is going better than the first time we met.” 

“Hoshi,” pinching the bridge of your nose, you exhale. The mask plastered across your eyes feels tight as your patience starts trickling out. “Don’t you have better things to do?” 

He blinks owlishly at you. “Like what?” 

With your fifth groan of the day, you push off the wall you were leaning on. The location of the tag is weird – the back of an apartment complex only two blocks away from your office, hidden away from the prying eyes of the dinner crowd. The streetlamps flicker on in the alley you’re both standing in, suddenly bathing you in a dull yellow light. In the distance, the sounds of the city continue. 

You come to a stop in front of him. Hoshi is wearing the same dark hoodie from the day you first met him, this time with a bright purple gas mask hanging from his neck. You gawk at how badly it clashes with his hair. Instead of a utility belt jammed full of spray cans, there’s a box of at least six of them sitting beside the incomplete graffiti. You wave your hand over it, forcing it to lift upwards and blink out of existence. It’ll land on your desk safe and sound (but probably giving S.Coups a scare; it’s a win in your books).

Hoshi lets out a whine at the sight. “That’s the second time you’ve gotten rid of my spray cans. They’re not cheap you know!” 

“Maybe you should think about picking up a different hobby.” You raise an eyebrow, wriggling your fingers in the direction of the gas mask. It removes itself perfectly from his neck despite his attempts to grab on. Then, like the box of spray cans, it disappears. Grinning, you turn your attention back to Hoshi. “What should I vanish next?”

“Woah- easy, tiger.” He puts his hands up in surrender, a lazy smile on his face. He’s slowly backing away from the wall and towards the open mouth of the alley. Good, you think, though the nickname makes your face heat and your skin crawl. “I just wanted to say hi.”

You roll your eyes; this is such a waste of time. “Okay, hi Hoshi. It’s time to go now. Bye bye.” You bring your hand up, ready to flick it in his direction and send him to some random garden-

“Til we meet again, Psyche.” 

Hoshi winks – the nerve! – and gives a little performative bow. Irritation rushes through you so quick you let out a growl. Cheeks flaming, you wave your hand and deposit the ridiculous, shameless excuse of an ugh in the middle of the zoo, right in front of the tiger exhibit. Then you pop yourself back into the office and lug a box of spray cans (and a mask) home, mumbling curses about tigers and graffiti artists and wondering why you can’t get one day of normalcy. 

three.

Of course the day you finally go back out into the field is also the day you fail spectacularly at doing your job. The case was simple: teleport into the facility with Dino and wait while Woozi hacks the cameras, then signal The8 to attack while ambushing the guards from behind. On a normal day, you and your team would have been in and out in half an hour max. 

Today, an unexpected wrench by the name of Shownu is thrown in your path and two of you end up injured. With super strength abilities nearly surpassing the Dino’s hardening, the instigator of the weapons exchange deal managed to hurl both you and your colleagues in opposite directions before you could grab them with your telekinesis. It’s a miracle how you’ve still managed to capture all the dealers in the end. 

So here you sit, nursing a broken leg in the infirmary as Seungcheol (outside office hours, you’re allowed to call each other by name) paces the length of the room. Minghao had already healed you as best he could with his healing powers but he said the fracture would take longer to heal and that you’d probably be out of commission for a week. Chan, with only a few bruised ribs, would be ready to go after a good night’s rest. 

Still grumbling, you pop into the alley beside the office building, dressed in your regular clothes. The smell of greasy burgers from the restaurant next door wafts into the air. You nod, okay – grab a burger and a milkshake and then teleport home, easy enough. With a wince, you drag yourself towards the pavement and- 

Sigh. 

“I really think it’s time you look into other hobbies.” 

The vandal laughs, setting down the spray can and pulling his mask down. On the wall is the incomplete graffiti of a tiger’s paw. Hoshi pushes the hood of his jacket down as he stands, ruffling his wild red hair. He turns to you and pauses, tilts his head. 

“Psyche?” 

You’re about to roll your eyes again and grumble of course it’s me who else could it be, before you realise that you’re not in your usual superhero outfit. There’s no spandex clinging uncomfortably to your butt cheeks today. Eyes wide with the sheer mortification of being known, you stumble backwards. Oh shit, oh shit ohshit ohshitshithit-

“You’re just as cute as I imagined you’d be without your mask on.”

Cheeks flaming and blood roaring, your balance skews. You wince as your injured leg takes the brunt of your weight, crumbling; you gasp at the pain. Your vision swims. 

Hoshi unexpectedly appears, eyes narrowed and face screwed in what appears to be concern. Two strong arms wind underneath yours, suddenly lifting you upwards with no warning. He drags you as gently as he can over to the wall he was just tagging and leans you carefully against it. 

His fingers, hot against your skin, nudge your chin up to look at him. Without his hood on, you can see the furrow of his brows, the thin line of his mouth, the clenched jaw, the worry in his wide, imploring eyes. Worst of all, you can see how he is most definitely not a kid. Your stomach flip-flops so violently you nearly gag.

“Are you alright?” he asks softly, thumb still pressing gently your chin as he angles your face around, eyes scanning for injuries.  

Oh no, oh nononono- 

With an undignified squawk, you push his hand from your face and promptly blink yourself back into your apartment. 

four.

The latest episode of some cheesy soap about doctors is playing on the TV. Relaxed for the first time in a while, you lean back into your pillows. Maybe being on mandatory bedrest is a good thing. Articles about your injury sustained at the ambush-gone-wrong has spread widely across social media. Fans and friends alike spam your inbox with messages and well-wishes. You’ve muted them all. 

Still, your phone pings loudly from its position on your bedside table. You bring it over with a wave of your hand; only one person could manage to get through your phone’s defences.

[5.12pm] Lee Jihoon: you’ll want to see this.

[5.12pm] Lee Jihoon has sent you an attachment.

You open the text message thinking it’s just another work-related thing but when the image loads you find yourself lost for words. It’s a picture of Chan and Minghao doing peace signs in an alley. But that’s not the important part.

There is a huge mural of you on the side of your office building. 

Your face stares out into the street, partially hidden behind a purple mask. There is a small tilt to your lips, as if there’s a joke that only you are privy to. A wreath of bright yellow flowers decorates the outer edges of the mural, a contrast to the various shades of purple splashed in the backdrop. From what you can tell, this was done in complete graffiti – in a style you’re now beginning to recognise very well. As if to confirm your suspicions, you catch a glimpse of something in the corner of the photo.

Beneath the mural sits a tiger’s paw.   

Heart racing, you click on the little blue application and see one Tweet with a photo of the mural sitting at the very top of your timeline. A laugh bubbles past your lips.

@ Hoshi1010Tags – Psyche. I’ve bought more spray cans. 

five.

Three days later, you find him vandalising yet another piece of public property. This time it’s a tiger cub swatting at the road sign sitting at the corner of the street. The box you’re carrying drops with a loud bang, startling the vandal so badly he falls back on his elbows. You turn your chuckle into a cough.

“Don’t give me a reason to take those away again.” 

Hoshi smiles, dusting off his hands as he stands to greet you; his mask and utility belt resting against the pavement. He jerks his head in the direction of your leg. “Are you feeling better?” 

“Much,” you find yourself smiling back. 

“I’ve missed you,” he says, and your heart stutters in your chest. “It’s not fun without you grumbling after me.” 

“I can’t say I’ve missed seeing you pop up everywhere.” 

He shrugs, “You’ll get used to it.” 

“Oh,” you quirk an eyebrow, hands on your hips. The smile that’s on your face only spreads wider as Hoshi beams back. Your stomach swoops. “Will I?”

“Kwon Soonyoung, performing arts student by day and vandal by night.” 

He holds out a hand, confident; waiting. 

You put your hand in his, relaxed; laughing.

+ one.

Soonyoung was having an incredibly nice nap, thank you very much. 

Which begs the question: who gave you the right to wake up him with a cold splash of wet spray paint across the back of his hand? 

Spluttering awake and nearly adding a magenta streak to his face, Soonyoung is beginning to question if his superhero is starting down the wrong alley. You sit at the edge of your bed, cackling at the disgruntled look on his face. 

“Now you know how I felt when I was assigned to your case only to meet a loudmouth.” 

“Oh yeah?”

He reaches across the space and wraps an arm around your torso, hauling you backwards and into his chest, the wet paint smudging all over your forearms. Two spray cans float over and, before Soonyoung even notices, starts trailing lines of neon blue and green down the back of his white t-shirt. His fingers start digging into your sides; you howl, twisting away as he tickles you without mercy. The spray cans blink away and he finally stops, gathering your wilted form into an embrace.

“I thought I was the vandal in this relationship?”

Your tongue darts out and blows a raspberry. “You’re a bad influence.”

Soonyoung leans down, closes the distance between your grinning faces, and captures your lips with his own; soft. His stomach churns, butterflies dancing as he presses closer, arm pulling you in tighter. Your hand snakes up to cup his face, thumb placed gently at the corner of his lips. And, as always, he kisses you deeper, like there’s more to you that he can’t wait to explore. You reciprocate in kind as his hands wander lower and lower and-

A lightbulb shatters. 

[doughnuts-5ever]

hi! who r ur fav hq writers? any recs?

hi anon! sorry for the late reply, life is wack rn. this is a v hard question because I get attached to fics and authors v fast alsbkhdf but here is an incomplete list of authors in no particular order (+ fav fics, but go read their entire masterlists hehe)

rowan (@/kuroopaisen) – im forever soft for pillow fort rituals and the in between ren (@/w-yuren) – watermelon dog days, creatures of comfort and flight 0819 have special places in my heart remy (@/dorkyama)  – next time literally started my osamu phase shdfjsdkh its a masterpiece yuki (@/memento_amare on ao3) – physics of falling and burning bridges live in my brain constantly winter (@/wackatoshi)  – diner dynamics set off my futakuchi love uwu fei (@/keij) – awaiting answer is my fav cuz oof lyra (@/pyblos) – feels like home and amor fati are special faves ari (@/seijch) – im attached to luck of the draw, dooms.day and her xenoblade fics

also @/kozu-mei, @/aigremoine, @/krystallisert and @/aoba-j <3

[unboundbnha]

This is a shout-out post to @aigremoine because they write some of the cutest HQ shit I’ve ever seen in my life 😭 you wanna feel squishy emotions? You wanna YELL in the workplace because you can’t contain your lovey-dovey heart goo? THEN GO READ THEIR STUFF. PROFIT.

And maybe leave them a nice message idk idk be nice to writers

[tisane-et-jardin]

lexique : Hépatique, hépato-protecteur

Une Plante hépatique agit sur le foie. Elle peut être hépatoprotectrice, régénératrice, tonique ou détoxifiante.

Notre alimentation moderne, les polluants et nos abus alimentaires et alcooliques ont augmenté nos besoins envers les plantes salvatrices du foie.

Relatif au foie : hépatique Origine du mot hépatique

Emprunt au latin tardif hepaticus, ‘relatif au foie’.

Antidote

Note…

[seijch]

#17!!!!

make me write my wips!! closed for now <3

17. paths that will never cross, an oikawa fire emblem: three houses au

the tentative synopsis is described here ofc

i might as well say that the scene from the last time i wrote this one was unapologetically ripped from the azure moon edelgard fight ,, but anyway heres a goddess tower scene 🕺🏻

i also rlly like paths that will never cross aka the song off the ost but the vibe for this scene in particular is naturally the night of the ball

the path to the tower is unfamiliar, but you walk it all the same. your hand runs along the cool stone as you head up the spiraling stairs. the gentle music from within the ballroom can be heard, even all the way up here.

you reach the top. you make eye contact with the person occupying the space. you turn to leave, despite the sweat beading at your hairline as a result of the (frankly exorbitant) number of stairs you’ve ascended.

“wait,” oikawa says. “you don’t have to leave, you know.”

“oh, but i do,” you snipe.

“why? is it because i’m your rival? did you rivalzone me?” you’re not sure what “rivalzone” is supposed to mean, but you sputter, cheeks growing hot as you defend yourself.

“i find your presence unbearable and your voice grating.” you’ve turned to face oikawa, but he doesn’t look impressed.

“why?” he goads. “is it because you’re jealous of my dashing good looks and endless charisma?” he takes a moment to flick a strand of hair out of his face, puffing his chest up. in his suit, he looks a bit like a waiter. when you tell him this, he deflates. “i chose this outfit months in advance…” he’s pouting now, arm draped over the lookout’s stone rail.

“i figured.” you find yourself joining him, citing the breeze as your reason for staying. (not that he asked. you just felt like you should make absolutely clear that your negative opinion of him has not changed, no matter how good he might look tonight.)

(bonus!) 16. the edge of dawn, a kuroo fire emblem: three houses au

kuroo tetsurou is many things: an almost graduate of the academy, a damn good shot with a bow, and the leader of a rebellion.

this!!! i wrote like a little under 1.5k for it when i had fe3h kuroo brainworms and havent touched it since SFDSKJFS

the vibe for this scene is kinda iffy but i settled on a funeral of flowers as i started to write

“shit- kuroo!” you shuffle forward, ignoring the way your leg feels as though it’s on fire. “kuroo!” he coughs in response, and you collapse next to him. your blood mixes with his, settling atop the dirt path.

“you need to get out of here,” he rumbles, red staining his teeth and bubbling out of his mouth. “you need to retreat.” he presses his fingers tighter against his midsection. “go. i’m right behind you.”

you don’t move. this isn’t how the story ends. “i’m not leaving without you.” your trembling hands reach into the leather satchel secured to your hip. “take this.” you uncork the potion, swirling the unnatural blue liquid in its vial.

kuroo shakes his head. “that’s not gonna help.”

“you don’t know that!” the look in his eyes tells you he does. you know it too; what he needs now is magic, not medicine. “kuroo, i can’t leave you.” your cheeks are damp. you don’t notice you’ve started to cry until it blurs your vision. “come on, just drink it! we’re so close!” what would the rebellion do without its leader? you figured nohebi knew that, knew to send their best marksmen after him in the hopes that he would fall.

“go.” his voice is insistent. there’s a brilliant shine of light from above--

and then an explosion so loud your ears are left ringing.

[lxveille]

fellow anti-baby here and i'm in the same boat for someone genuinely calling your name fondly!!

it’s underrated at times !!!! like sure, most people do just call you by your name but there can be something very special about the way someone says your name

[vcaloids]

last updated 09/21/2020

ALREADY READ !

konohababy / pancakes for dinner

aigremoine / nonchalance

[lady-ravens]

Plantes selon les objectifs

Amour : Basilic, gingembre,orme, feuilles de tilleul, souci, marjolaine, botryche lunaire, graines de moutarde, peau d’orange, bruyère rouge, romarin, vétiver, saule, achillée millefeuille

Argent : basilic, bergamote, camomille, clou de girofle, graines d’aneth, menthe, botryche lunaire, muscade, avoine, vétiver

Bonheur / paix : fenouil, lavande, salicaire, romarin, verveine, achillée millefeuille

Chance / justice : laurier, bergamote, mélisse, peau d’orange, anis etoilé, verveine, asperule odorante

Contrer les énergies négatives : aigremoine, benoite, fenouil, houx, hysope, agripaume, rue, verveine

Courage : basilic, bourrache, romarin, thym

Divination : graines d’anis, basilic, laurier, quintefeuille, trèfle, damiane, dictane de crête, chèvrefeuille, houblon, lavande, armoise, peau d’orange, thym, verveine, asperule odorante, absinthe, achillée

Guérison : quintefeuilles, consoude, coriandre, houblon, lavande, mélisse, molène bouillon blanc, moutarde, romarin, rue, millepertuis, thym

[suki-on-blog-blog]

#nudevember2018 #23 #masque #mask #toosensitive #tropsensible #sensibility #sensibilite #agrimony #aigremoine #mensonge #lie #falseface #sadnesss #hiddensadnessbehindasmile #hiddensadness #tristessecachée #tristesse #tristessecachée #fauxsourire #depression #depressive #hiddendepression #hiddendepressionisreal #instasad #instatriste #tristes #instadepression #instadepressed #instasadness #tristessa #lallorona #llorar #installorar #instapleur #instacrying #instaheartbroken #instacoeurbrise https://www.instagram.com/p/BqhPoBEAni3/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=1wnb7gk2fq3d9