hey so can I have scenario with Jiaoqui where he makes his usual spicy food which is too hot for everybody and they’re like “put coriander in it” and he’s like “no! Begone demon!” And his crush is like “if not coriander, you ever thought about putting flannel, cinnamon, cumin or ginger in it, instead?”
Taste and Be Still
Summary: In the bustling healing pavilion of the Xianzhou Yaoqing, Jiaoqiu’s notoriously spicy cooking tests the limits of every soldier’s palate—until you offer an unexpected suggestion: add cinnamon, cumin, or ginger instead of the cursed coriander. Surprised by your insight and intrigued by your presence, Jiaoqiu finds himself rethinking not just his cauldron’s balance, but the fire in his own heart. Amid gentle teasing and shared warmth, something deeper begins to simmer between the two of you.
Warnings: Mild Mentions of War Trauma, Emotional Fatigue, Light Spice Humor, Subtle Allusions to Past Heartbreak.
The pavilion smelled like suffering and Sichuan peppercorn.
The soldiers—brave enough to stand in the face of mara—had long since retreated to the far corners of the camp, clutching their half-scorched tongues like war wounds. Even the birds avoided the cauldron today, as Jiaoqiu gently stirred his infamous "Phoenix-Flame Congee," its crimson broth bubbling with foreboding.
"By the stars—!" a young lieutenant sputtered, face redder than a sunset. "Can’t you just—gods forgive me—put coriander in it or something?!"
A hush fell. Several heads turned in slow horror to the speaker.
Jiaoqiu’s eyes flickered open for the first time in hours, the slits of his pupils narrowing like drawn blades.
"Coriander?" His voice, as ever, was polite—soothing, even—but laced with such chilling authority that even the wind paused to listen.
"Begone, demon."
The lieutenant flinched and fled. Another casualty of flavor-induced hubris.
You watched the scene unfold from the corner of the tent, hand cupped to your mouth to hide the grin curling at your lips. Jiaoqiu—ever the picture of calm catastrophe—returned to his stirring, tail swaying behind him like a metronome of judgment.
You padded over, eyes on the concoction. The aroma was enough to clear sinuses, scorch lungs, and perhaps summon forgotten gods. But still… you could taste the care in it. There was love in this chaos. Intention. Wounds were meant to be cleansed, and Jiaoqiu seemed to believe the same held true for the tongue.
"You could try softening the edge," you said casually, taking a seat nearby. "Not coriander—perish the thought—but... maybe something with a rounder base?"
Jiaoqiu tilted his head at you, curious. His eyes were only half-open now, their burnt-sunset hues glowing softly in the congee’s steam.
"Do go on," he murmured, voice threaded with amusement. "I suppose you have a remedy for my blistering sins?"
You smiled. “Flannel root. Maybe a touch of ginger. Cinnamon or cumin if you’re bold. They wouldn’t ruin the heat, just... redirect it. You ever thought about that?”
There was a pause. His fox ears twitched once. Then, slowly, genuinely, he considered.
"Redirecting the fire..." he repeated. “Like reshaping a wound’s edge to promote healing... without removing the flame altogether.”
A soft laugh escaped your lips. “You always talk like you’re performing surgery. Even with soup.”
“Everything I do is surgery,” he replied. “Only the blade changes.”
He stared down into the broth a moment longer. Then, to everyone’s shock—though only you were close enough to hear the whisper of decision—he reached into his alchemical pouch and withdrew a curled brown shard of cassia bark. With gentle reverence, he dropped it into the cauldron. One swirl. Two. The bubbling eased.
“I can still taste the fire,” you said, after a cautious spoonful. “But now it warms instead of... annihilates.”
Jiaoqiu looked at you with something unreadable in his gaze. Tender, perhaps. A little sad. His hand, still holding the stirring ladle, trembled just slightly.
"Is that not what I’ve always longed for?" he murmured. “To burn... but not destroy?”
He turned back to the pot before you could answer, voice growing more playful, even as something deeper lingered beneath the surface.
"Though you do realize... if this concoction becomes beloved, I will blame you for corrupting my culinary legacy.”
You leaned in, shoulder brushing his sleeve. “Gladly. If it means fewer melted tongues and fewer soldiers cursing your name.”
Jiaoqiu chuckled, soft and rare, a sound like warm wind rustling silk.
“And if I said I’ll need your assistance tomorrow, to perfect this gentle inferno...?”
You met his gaze, unwavering. “Then I’ll bring the ginger.”
And in that moment, surrounded by the scent of spice and the subtle thrum of something unspoken, Jiaoqiu allowed himself a quiet peace.
Not everything that burned needed to be a battlefield.
Summary: Billy crawls through your window for the third night in a row, wanting nothing more than to escape with you.
Do not repost or rewrite any of my work. Minors and ageless blogs are blocked.
Masterlist
"Rough night?" You asked into the darkness of your room as Billy opened your window and stuck his head inside to see if you were still awake.
"You got no idea, can I come in?" He replied in a raspy voice, that alone telling you all you needed to know about what he'd been through tonight.
"Of course, no need to ask any more."
He pulled the rest of his body through your window and closed it behind him, sitting on the edge of your bed and pulling his shoes and jeans off before crawling up next to where you led in bed, watching and waiting patiently for him to join you.
Billy wormed his way up the bed and buried himself in your arms immediately, something he liked to do often to block out the world around him. His head buried itself into your chest and you just cuddled him to you tightly to offer your comfort since he wasn't much of a talker. Billy always said he came to you because you didn't push him to talk about anything, just held him until he was ready.
"It was my dad again, surprise surprise. Max, she sneaked out when I was in my room and I didn't realise until he got home."
"Did you find her, is she okay?" You asked quietly, rubbing Billy's back; another thing he loved for you to do.
"She was round one of her friends houses playing a stupid board game. I took her home and her mum took her outside to talk to her while my dad 'talked' to me. He went through the usual process and then kicked me out before Max came back in. I drove around for a bit but then couldn't take it anymore and came here." He explained quietly, moving his fingers in a massaging motion along your spine where his arms were wrapped around your waist.
"I'm so sorry you have to go through that Billy, but I am really glad you come here instead of hurting someone else or yourself. I'm proud of you for making that decision."
"I just wanna leave, back to California. Find my mum, introduce her to you. I know she'd love you, I can just imagine her smile when she sees how happy you make me." Billy rambled, lost in his fantasy of a reality that may not be possible, not if he ever lost you.
"You just gotta hold on a little longer, just a little; and then you can leave as soon as you've graduated if you really want to, drive back to California and leave all your misery here."
Billy pulled back from his swaddled position in your arms and looked you in the eyes. "I'm not going anywhere without you, I couldn't leave you here to be swallowed up by this dump."
You smiled sadly at him, knowing he really wouldn't do anything if you told him not to, and that may come to be his undoing.
"Are you hungry? I can't imagine Susan exactly piled a plate up for you when you were on your way out." You offered to him in a whisper, looking into his beautiful blue eyes that held so much despair behind them.
"I don't want this to end yet, a few more minutes. Please?" How could you refuse him when he was looking at you like you were all he has left in the world.
"Whenever you're ready baby."
That one phrase held so many different meanings. Whenever you're ready to talk, I'm here. Whenever you're ready to leave, I'll support you all the way, whenever you're ready to live I'll be right by your side.
Billy stayed burrowed into your side for the rest of the night, not moving an inch from the protection your arms offered.
The next morning when you both woke up, he redressed himself in the clothes he wore last night, walked over to your window where you kissed him goodbye and he hugged you close (just like the night before) and hopped out, making his way down the side of your house.
He turned to wave goodbye and started walking back to his own home, if he could even call it that, and began making plans for him to leave Hawkins, where you would be right by his side the whole time.
Now that I know you write for BNHA. Would it be ok if you wrote something for Selkie? (Pro hero Asui worked under) if it's ok.
Selkie x Unintentionally! Sweet/cute S/o?
Said S/o just likes to be there for everyone as much as possible, bringing them snacks and other goodies. If thats ok. Don't preasure yourself Mom!
Of course! Selkie is a pretty cool guy. This was super cute to write. Thanks for the request!
Relationship: Selkie x Female Reader
Fandom: My Hero Academia
Warnings: Fluff :)
— — — —
As much as he loves to save people, Selkie wishes he wasn’t a pro hero sometimes. Being so busy has its flaws. He enjoys working, protecting people, and making the world a better place. But when it comes to a woman who stops by almost every day to give them snacks and support, he wishes he wasn’t so busy.
He and his crew have their own dock. And at times, Selkie is on a boat in the sea to do his daily job. To his dismay, the woman he finds so adorable visits his docks at the worst times possible. He ends up coming back from his pro hero business, only to find out that his crew members have met the lovely woman once again.
“You should have seen her, boss! She brought home made rice balls this time!” One of his crew members announces.
“What?! I missed her homemade rice balls?!” Selkie couldn’t help but feel sad that he missed such an important day. He has only had her home-made cooking twice and missing that was like being late to a mission, which isn’t a very good feeling.
The next day, it was already noon, and he hasn’t gotten a call yet out on the sea. He was so excited to see the supportive woman come by, and possibly eat her homemade snacks. And to his luck, she was right there, walking down the docks to his boat.
Everyone greeted her as she walks closer, a big bento box sitting in her arms. “Hi, everyone!” She greets. Her eyes widen when they meet Selkies. “And Selkie is here this time! I’m so glad!” Her smile was so bright, everyone thought the sun was down on earth.
She set the bento down before Selkie could squish it with his usual big hugs. “(Y/N)! It’s good to see you again!” He almost cries tears of joy just by seeing her.
She giggles. “Awe. I missed you, too, Selkie! And since you missed the rice balls yesterday, I brought some today!”
He couldn’t help but say, over and over, how adorable she is in his head. He just hopes that he doesn’t embarrass himself by accidently saying it out loud.
“Just for me?” Selkie holds the bento in his hands, tears still flowing down his whiskered cheeks.
“Of course! Just for you.”
Everyone enjoys the snacks she brought for them, and Selkie slowly eats his rice balls to savor them well. He was smiling the whole time, staring off at the sky as he daydreamed.
Sirius, one of Selkies sidekicks, walks up to the friendly woman after finishing her own snack. “Thanks for coming by, (Y/N). Selkie was pretty down about missing you yesterday.” She smiles.
(Y/N) hums. “Well, I’m glad I was able to come by today. I want to come and support you guys as much as possible!” Everyone around them felt warm and fuzzy when hearing those words. (Y/N) doesn’t know it, but all of the heroes at the docks appreciate her immensely for her support.
Plot: Andrew has doubts about where him and Y/N stand after their first date and kiss.
Word Count: ~1.6k
Andrew’s POV
I opened my eyes after she pulled away from me, breaking the kiss. We both needed to come up for air. It was the first ‘first kiss’ I’d had in years, and probably the best first kiss I’d ever had. Her lips were soft and they meshed perfectly with my own. They tasted sweet. She looked up at me, smiling. She was smiling with her entire face. Her eyes were sparkling, and her nose was scrunched the tiniest bit. She was magic. This moment was perfect. I wanted it to last forever. There was a beautiful, sweet, smart, funny girl with her arms wrapped around my waist, and I was holding her perfect face in my hands. I had just kissed her lips for the very first time, and they were incomparable. I had to do it again. I leaned down again, craning my neck in an attempt to make her lips easier to reach.
“Wait,” she said, putting her hand on my chest, stopping me. Dammit.
“What’s wrong, love?”
“I don’t want you to keep straining your neck,” she said, with a giggle. She bit her lip and looked up at me. It’s so sexy when she does that.
“It’s fine. I’m used to having to bend down.”
“That doesn’t mean it’s comfortable!”
“I mean, it’s not, but it’s fine.”
She gestured towards the bed. “Sit down.”
I swallowed, unsure of where this was going. I sat down, and she straddled me. “Is this better?,” she whispered.
“Yeah,” I managed to get out. I could barely speak, but luckily I didn’t have to. She gently gripped my face and kissed me. I moved my hands to her waist and kissed her back. I couldn’t believe this was happening. When I woke up this morning, I planned on calling her and asking her out the way I’d practiced, but I would have never guessed the night would end like this. I figured we’d have dinner and she’d tell me afterward that she wasn’t interested and I’d be in my hotel room getting drunk alone and hating myself for making things weird between us. Stop overthinking. Don’t fuck this up, Andrew. We kept kissing like that. Hungry for each other, kissing each other passionately, but not too aggressively. She pulled away and stared at me. “You’re gorgeous,” I said without thinking.
“Thank you,” she said, smiling shyly. She was so cute.
“Is something wrong?”
“No. I’m just really tired, but I don’t want this night to end yet.”
“Me neither. We can just cuddle if you want?,” I offered. I hoped that wasn’t weird. Do people cuddle on a first date? Does she know that this is supposed to be a date? Of course she does...right?
“That sounds amazing. I just want to be close to you. I hope that’s not weird” she said.
“It’s not. Not at all,” I said, reaching up to stroke her hair. “I want that too.”
“You’re so sweet,” she said, giving me another short kiss before climbing up off me. “Can we get under the covers? I’m gonna get cold.”
“Yeah, yeah of course,” I said, happy to oblige.
“Thank you, baby.”
I felt warm inside when she called me that. “I’m just gonna change. These dress clothes aren’t exactly ideal for cuddling, you know,” I said with a chuckle.
“Yeah, me too. I’m gonna get out of this blouse and these tight ass jeans.”
I smiled and went into the bathroom to change into my pajamas. When I came out, she was under the covers. She smirked and said: “Hurry up!, ”patting my side of the bed.
I got in next to her and wrapped an arm around her waist. I realized that she’d stripped down to her underwear. I felt honored that she felt that comfortable with me. “Y/N?”
“Yeah?”
“This is the best date I’ve ever been on, and I really really like you. I just needed to tell you that.”
She picked up my hand and kissed it. “Me too, baby.”
We fell asleep just like that. We didn’t need to say anything else. The silence between us was comfortable. It said all that needed to be said. She got me so well. It’s going to hurt so damn bad when she leaves.
Your POV
You were woken up the next morning by the rays of sunshine that shone through the curtains. What was it about hotel rooms that made them so unnaturally bright in the mornings? Despite being awakened against your will after a late night, you felt well-rested. You looked around the room, taking in the banal hotel decor. You wished you were in Andrew’s actual room, so you could get a feel for how he usually lived. You wondered what his room in his house looked like. Were his walls bare? Did he have pictures from the tours he’d been on there? Did he let his dog sleep in his bed? Was his nightstand bare or cluttered? Did he need to close his closet doors before bed like you did?
You slowly turned over and so you could look at him. His arm was still around your waist. You admired the details of his face as he slept: his thick, perfectly shaped eyebrows; his pretty, soft, pink lips, his high, prominent cheekbones, his ginger beard, and long eyelashes. The v-neck of the t-shirt he’d worn to bed allowed some of his chest hair to show. He was absolutely beautiful, and you felt lucky. He looked so peaceful. It was nice to see him like this. The life he lived required him to be constantly occupied with something, whether it be writing, recording, producing, touring, or planning any of those things. You’d never seen him just be.
You closed your eyes and let yourself enjoy the moment, trying to remember it forever. You never wanted to forget it. Laying in bed with this stunning, sweet man who had his arm around you while you faced him after falling asleep together at the end of a perfect date. You didn’t want him to wake up. So of course, he did.
He groaned. “Morning, gorgeous.”
Your face got warm. He’d called you beautiful or even stunning before, but until now he’d always seen you all done up. You’d wiped off your makeup while he was changing, not wanting to stain his white pillowcases. You smiled at him shyly. “Good morning, sweetheart. How’d you sleep?”
“Fucking amazing,” he said, his voice husky and his accent heavy. He sounded obscenely sexy.
You laughed. “Me too.”
“And why might that be?,” he asked, stroking your face. You were realizing how much he liked touching and being touched.
“I think you know why, Andy.”
“I do,” he laughed. “But, I want to hear you say it.”
“I had a really wonderful guy who I have really strong feelings for holding me. And we had one of the best kisses of my life before we went to bed. Now, why did you sleep “fucking amazing,” Mr. Byrne?”
“It’s Mr. Hozier-Byrne, and I slept fucking amazing because I had the most amazing woman I’ve ever known in my arms the entire time. And that made me feel more at peace than I’ve felt in a really long time.”
You weren’t expecting an answer like that. And that made me feel more at peace than I’ve felt in a really long time. It hurt to hear him say that. Why hadn’t he felt at peace before? It made your heart feel full to know that you could make him feel better, but you wanted him to always feel okay, not just when he was holding you. You put your hand on his face. “What do you mean, my darling?”
“It- it was just ehm, nice to be with someone. It’s been a while. My career makes it really hard to have a relationship, and it gets lonely sometimes. I get lonely sometimes. And I know that this will probably just be a one-weekend thing, but I’m just gonna enjoy it while it lasts. I really like you, and I’d rather have some of you than have none of you, you know? Even though its gonna hurt like hell when it ends...it always does.”
Your heart broke. “You don’t want a relationship with me? You made it seem like you wanted to be my boyfriend or something.” You knitted your eyebrows in confusion and hurt. A lot was going through your mind right now. The hurt you felt was for you and him. You hated that he felt so lonely, and you hated that he felt that the two of couldn’t have a relationship.
“No, honey. That’s not what I’m saying. I want this to go somewhere. I do want to be your boyfriend. I want you to be mine so fucking badly. But I- this life that I live- I just don’t know how long any relationship we have will last once I’m back on the road. And I want to be upfront about that. And I figured that once I was, you’d run.”
Your hand was still on his face. You’d moved it closer to his ear so he could talk. “Andrew, I’m not going anywhere. What we have is already so special. I wouldn’t trade it for the world. I knew what you did for a living and what that demands of you when I fell for you. And guess what? I still want this. Don’t be so scared of this not working out that you don’t even let me give us a chance, baby,” you pleaded. You stared deeply into his green eyes. They were shining, tears threatening to spill over. Before you could say anything else, he pulled you closer and kissed you.
“No one’s ever promised to stick around before,” he whispered, his eyes still shining.
“Well, I’m different, Andrew,” you said, pressing your forehead to his, and stroking his cheek with your thumb. “This is different.”
❤ | Your options shall be: Sunday, Aventurine, Dan Heng, Veritas Ratio, Boothill, Jing Yuan, Blade, Phaimon, Mydei or Moze. Whoever you think suits this prompt.
❤ | Flower & it's definition: Borage flowers | symbolize courage, joy, and resilience. They can also represent emotional fortitude, hardiness, and solidarity.
The Language of Flowers
Tags: Dan Heng x Reader, Ratio x Reader, Phainon x Reader, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Battle Reflection, Emotional Vulnerability, Symbolism, Quiet Moments of Connection, Supportive Reader, Subtle Romance, Themes of Courage and Resilience.
Warnings: Mentions of Past Trauma (emotional and/or physical), Light Descriptions of Battle Aftermath, Themes of Guilt and Regret, Emotional Introspection, Heavy Emotional Themes.
The soft hum of the Astral Express filled the room as you carefully arranged a bouquet of flowers in a small glass vase. The borage blossoms stood out, their vibrant blue petals a stark contrast to the muted tones of the room. They were beautiful yet unassuming, much like the man standing silently in the doorway.
Dan Heng’s gaze was calm but inquisitive as he leaned against the doorframe, his spear resting by his side. He rarely ventured into the common areas when he wasn’t on duty, yet something about the quiet serenity of your actions seemed to draw him in.
“You’ve been busy,” he said, his voice low and even.
You looked up, startled but pleased by his presence. “I thought the place could use a little color. It’s a bit… stark in here.”
Dan Heng stepped closer, his eyes briefly scanning the flowers before settling on you. “Borage,” he said, his tone softening. “It’s an unusual choice.”
You smiled, brushing a stray petal with your fingertip. “Do you know what it symbolizes?”
He hesitated, his gaze shifting to the flowers. “Courage. Resilience,” he answered quietly. “Qualities I’m not sure I possess.”
You frowned, setting the vase down. “That’s not true. You’ve faced things most people couldn’t even imagine, Dan Heng. You protect the crew, you carry the weight of your past, and you keep moving forward. If that’s not courage, I don’t know what is.”
Dan Heng’s expression softened, but the shadow of doubt lingered in his eyes. “It doesn’t feel that way,” he admitted. “Sometimes, it feels like I’m just running. Not brave—just... avoiding.”
You reached out, placing a hand gently on his arm. “It’s not about never being afraid. It’s about facing that fear and still standing your ground. And you’ve done that more times than you give yourself credit for.”
He looked at you, his eyes searching yours for a moment before glancing back at the flowers. A faint smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “Maybe you’re right,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.
Picking one of the blossoms from the vase, you held it out to him. “Then take this as a reminder. For every time you feel like you’re just running, remember that you’re stronger than you think.”
Dan Heng accepted the flower, his fingers brushing yours as he took it. For a moment, the air between you felt warmer, charged with unspoken understanding.
“Thank you,” he said simply, tucking the borage into the folds of his clothing.
And as he left the room, the faintest smile lingered on his face—a sign that perhaps, just perhaps, he was beginning to believe in the resilience you saw in him.
The library of the Intelligentsia Guild was quiet, save for the rhythmic scratching of Ratio’s pen against parchment. His hair fell in waves over his sharp features, his piercing eyes fixed on the complex equations sprawled across the pages before him. You stood nearby, clutching a small bouquet of borage flowers, hesitant to disturb him.
When you finally mustered the courage to approach, he glanced up, his gaze sharp but curious. “You’re here,” he said, his voice carrying that distinctive air of confidence. “What brings you to my sanctum?”
You smiled, stepping closer and holding out the flowers. “I brought you something. Borage. It reminded me of you.”
Ratio arched a brow, leaning back in his chair. “Courage, resilience, and emotional fortitude,” he said, his voice taking on a slightly amused tone. “A flattering comparison, but I wonder—what prompted it?”
You set the bouquet on the desk beside him, brushing aside a stray parchment. “You spend so much time helping others, spreading knowledge and pushing boundaries. That takes a kind of courage most people overlook. I thought you should have something to remind you of that.”
For a moment, Ratio was silent, his sharp gaze fixed on the flowers. Then, to your surprise, he smiled—a rare, genuine expression that softened his usual intensity. “It seems I underestimated you,” he said, his tone lighter. “You have a keen understanding of what matters, even when others might overlook it.”
You felt a flush of pride at his words. “I just think people should know when they’re making a difference. And you are.”
He picked up the bouquet, his fingers brushing against the petals with surprising care. “It’s easy to become lost in the pursuit of knowledge, to forget the significance of resilience and joy. Your gesture is… appreciated.”
You couldn’t help but grin. “Even the smartest minds need a reminder sometimes.”
Ratio chuckled, the sound low and rich. “Indeed. And perhaps I’ve been too focused on intellect, forgetting the courage it takes to face the unknown.”
As he set the flowers beside his open books, you knew that, in his own way, he’d taken your gesture to heart. And for the first time, the quiet brilliance of the library felt a little warmer, filled with an unspoken bond that needed no further explanation.
The battlefield was quiet now, the storm of combat having given way to the stillness of victory. Phainon stood at the edge of the cliffs overlooking the sea, his hair glinting in the fading sunlight. You approached cautiously, the borage flowers clutched in your hand, their vibrant blue petals swaying in the breeze.
He turned as you neared, his eyes softening when they met yours. “You found me,” he said with a gentle smile. “Even after a battle, you’re always here.”
You stepped closer, holding out the flowers. “Borage,” you said simply. “For courage and resilience. I thought they suited you.”
Phainon accepted the bouquet with a quiet laugh, his fingers brushing against yours. “Courage, joy, resilience… fitting words, though I’m not sure I deserve them.”
You frowned, tilting your head. “You led us to victory today, Phainon. You’ve done more than anyone could ask for. If that’s not courage, I don’t know what is.”
He looked at the flowers, his expression thoughtful. “It’s not the battles that test me,” he admitted. “It’s the moments after. The weight of what we’ve lost, what we’ve sacrificed—it stays with me.”
You reached out, placing a hand on his arm. “That’s why you need reminders like this. To show that even in loss, there’s still strength. And you’re never alone in carrying that weight.”
Phainon’s gaze softened, and for a moment, the heaviness in his expression lifted. “You always know what to say,” he said quietly. “Thank you—for the flowers, and for being here.”
You smiled. “Always.”
As he held the borage close, the setting sun cast a golden glow over the two of you, a quiet reminder that even in the face of hardship, there was still beauty and hope to be found.
