milkbobatyun

[milkbobatyun]

Milbobatyun lets kiss

sure pookers, once you can spell my user correctly smh ( •̀ ⤙ •́ )

[milkbobatyun]

after reading some of your fics, i want you.

HELP THAT'S SO CUTE AHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA

bet. appear in the comments with a ring and i'll say yes ↻(𓄼 .̀ ̮.́)Ψ

[milkbobatyun]

anaxagoras with coworkers, modern au fluff and romantic with fem reader

hai pookers !! hope youre going well :33 your letter was received ! 💌 it can now be found here, under the title the professor's secrets ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ hope you enjoy my interpretation of your request ꉂ(ˊᗜˋ*)

[milkbobatyun]

the professor's secret

pairing: anaxa x reader

genre: fluff

summary: some university professors are oversharers, some share so little that his students had no idea who his elusive wife was.

word count: 1.7k

a/n: well this came out a lot longer than i expected.... (ᵕ—ᴗ—) i promise y'all i haven't died or anything, the ao3/fic writer curse hasn't hit me yet (iykyk) but i'm trying to juggle school and tests/exams with writing so pleek be patient TT

p.s. for those who follow/play genshin, LAWD have yall seen flins?? im so ready to write for him-

university professors are interesting creatures. some are so private about their lives that students often forget that they have their own lives, outside of teaching lectures, marking assignments and failing students.

take anaxagoras, professor of alchemy, for example: first day of university and his only introduction about himself is: “my name is anaxagoras, you may only call me professor anaxagoras.” no mention of a pet, no hobbies. no one dared to probe any further. professor anaxa was notorious among the students for being strict. late? extra work assigned. he sees a student beginning to contemplate passing a note to the cute classmate next to them? lose credits.

the only thing the students know about his private life is that he has a wife. when that bombshell slipped during a lecture about the origins of alchemy, the whole class went still, frozen in shock. 

their grumpy, permanent resting bitch faced professor had a wife!?

behind the back of their stoic professor, his students began making quiet bets on who his wife was. someone from the university also? likely. professor algae? most likely option, they were the perfect enemies in public, lovers in private troupe.

on the other hand, you were the professor of literature. though you often shared moments of your life, you weren’t an oversharing professor. sometimes, you brought cookies to class, not only as an incentive for students to come to the lectures, but also because you ‘made too many’. other times, you would slip pictures of your pets into the slides for your powerpoints, knowing how dry learning content could be for students.

on the first day of university, your introduction had been much more different to professor anaxagoras’: “my name is [name], i have a few pets and i do have a husband. any questions?”

the mention of such a young looking teacher being married had sent the class into a frenzy. your students shouted to have their voices heard, throwing question after question at you, until all you could do was laugh and sigh exasperatedly.

maybe this wasn’t the best thing to expose on the first day of the school year…

as soon as your students exit the lecture hall, they huddle in groups, whispering amongst each other, trying to decipher who your mystery husband is.

mydei? too fiery. after much debate, phainon is the fan favourite out of all of the possible options. he’s sweet, bubbly and overall the perfect match for you. on the other hand, ‘prof nax’ is dead last.

it began with the small, off hand comments. students who took both professor anaxagoras’ class and your class began to notice small similarities.

the same day you mentioned adopting a small orange kitten over the weekend, professor anaxagoras muttered under his breath how ‘his wife’s new kitten was shedding its ghastly orange fur absolutely everywhere.’ However, from the small smile that involuntarily ghosted across his face, the students knew he was already attached to the small gremlin.

on your birthday, you baked cookies for your class and anaxa’s to bring to the lecture. as the students watched professor anaxagoras fish around in a comically large shopping bag, they were stunned into silence, watching him reveal a box of cookies in a familiar tupperware container, the same choc chip cookies their beloved ‘mother’ brought her class.

when students skeptically asked their alchemy professor what the occasion was, he only shrugged, pretending to sigh about how his wife ‘insisted he treat his class to her amazing cookies’.

“be glad she knows her puppy eyes are too effective on me,” their professor grumbled, passing around the box.

the next incident happened on an unassuming tuesday afternoon. after their latest alchemy exam, some students had gathered outside the hall, swapping answers and complaining about the difficulty set by their ‘wonderful’ prof nax.

one student in particular had gotten very wound up, his distaste for the exam, fuelled by his frustration and (slight) guilt in not studying very well, boiled into spiteful words, until he was left red-faced and waving his hands about like a mad-man.

“can you believe that the stupid professor set us such an impossibly difficult question?” he snapped, arms crossed and foot tapping. his rambling kept going, until his friends felt like they were watching an unstoppable snowball of complaints rolling down the hill.

click.

click.

click.

the student’s friends heard the tell-tale sign of professor anaxagoras’ shoes echoing down the hallway, accompanied by a cheery voice chatting to him. anaxagoras’ voice was a quiet murmur as he replied.

rounding the corner with you, anaxa’s sharp ears caught the tail of the unfortunate student’s rants.

“and it’s ridiculous he insists we call him professor anaxagoras. i personally would call him nax.” the student’s brazen rants are brought to a halt when he feels a murderous aura boring into the back of his head, a heavy hand squeezing down on his shoulder.

“would. you. like. to. repeat. that?” anaxagoras challenged, face ashen. beside him, you had stopped your small conversation about some trip that the two of you took a few years back. familiar with the intensity of anaxa’s pet peeve about nicknames, you laughed awkwardly, patting at his shoulder.

“it’s fine,” you tried to intervene, turning to the offending student, “he didn’t mean it, did he?” the student, sweating and still as a deer in headlights, furiously nodded his head. his friends, faces a similar shade of pasty whitel, nodded in agreement, mumbling how ‘that’s how he usually is’ and internally thanking and praising you for saving their butts.

anaxa shot you a glare, though there was barely any malicious intent, just some leftover annoyance. you beamed innocently back at him, metaphorical sunbeams glowing from your face. finally, anaxa turned away, exhaling loudly – not satisfied than pissed, just that cold, anaxagoras-styled sigh that told you ‘you’re getting off easy here, buddy.’

before he could reconsider berating the student and threatening to take away marks on his exam, you grabbed anaxa by the hand, forcefully dragging him away with you, unaware of the chaos you’d leave in your wake.

as soon as the student’s legs stopped shaking from fear and he didn’t feel the need to piss his pants, his friends’ brains finally caught up to what they just witnessed as their professors departed.

“holy shit. professor [name] just grabbed professor anaxagoras by the hand and walked away.”

other students who had peeked their heads out of their own classrooms to observe the commotion began to yell over each other.

“no way!”

“we were seeing things right?!”

“i must’ve been so scared i hallucinated that.”

“WHAT.”

“did you hear their conversation before? they went on some trip together.”

whispers filled the corridor as students milled around to share their theories. some even chose to update their bets, choosing to wager their allowance on the less likely couple ships of their professors.

during one weekend online lesson, you’re in the midst of explaining literature concepts when your pesky orange kitten decides to jump onto your desk.

without breaking a sweat, you lift the little fuzzball into your arms.

“and here, is our little miso!” you introduced, waving miso’s paws in the air, as though in greeting. “she’s caused absolute mayhem for my husband due to her shedding, but it’s ok, he secretly loves her.”

the students immediately hop onto their group chat, sans professor.

‘didn’t someone in prof nax’s class say he was complaining about cat fur?’

‘surely that’s just a coincidence, right…?’

‘praying prof phainon has also mentioned having a ginger cat or else that’s my lunch money gone ㅠㅠ’

‘agreed.’

the theories and screenshots of your cat continue to flood into the group chat, even after you’ve let your cat scramble away to ‘go cause trouble for your husband’. in fact, they reach even further, flooding other group chats, some with students of professor anaxagoras’ alchemy students.

anaxa was really regretting leaving his door ajar. well, to be fair, how was he to know that his wife’s new kitten was so enamoured with him that she would squeeze through the door and jump onto his shoulder, tiny claws digging into his sweater.

the same time her furry ginger head through his hair, jaws fell and hit the desk.

students blew up the alchemy group chat and updated the literature kids who were generous enough to give a heads up.

‘holy fkn airball.’

‘i thought prof nax and prof [name] just went on occassional trips together…’

‘????’

‘THEY LIVE TOGETHER?!’

‘thats miso isnt it?’

‘[sent a picture]’

‘NO WAY PROF [NAME] IS MARRIED TO PROF NAX ㅠㅠ’

barely an hour after your cat causes mayhem amongst the students, the news that you and professor anaxagoras were married had spread like wildfire.

when you next see your students at the university lecture hall, the room is abuzz with curiosity. students steal glances at each other, whispering and nudging their friends, daring them to make the first move.

a singular hand shoots up into the air, asking the crucial question.

“prof, is it true that you’re married to professor anaxagoras?”

your signular nod of affirmation sends the class into frenzied chaos, until they’re all yelling to be heard.

“when did you get married?”

“why didn’t you tell us it was him?”

you sighed, “i knew this would happen, so we usually keep it more toned down and plus, naxie hates when his students bombard him with questions about his personal life…”

that night, when anaxagoras returns home, he immediately flops onto the couch, hand laying over his eyes in defeat.

“that stupid cat,” he begins sighing and pinching the bridge of his nose, “shall not be allowed in my office during lectures. she’s caused enough trouble as is.”

you only chuckle at his statement, knowing he’d definitely give into the kitten’s big eyes.

“at least now you can drop by whenever at the university.” you suggest, sitting on the floor beside the couch and peering up at him, the offending cat padding up to curl in your lap.

“that’s true,” he affirms, grabbing your hand and lacing your fingers together, “i’ll be able to bring you your daily coffee at the uni.”

anaxa admires the wedding ring on your finger that glints delightfully in the light, glad to be shown off. he lifted your hand to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss right over your wedding band, while fireworks exploded in your stomach and across your face.

taglist (open): @leehanscorydora, @pastelmitzuki, @nfekwefdskldm

∧,,,∧ ( ̳• · • ̳)  © curated with love by milkbobatyun 2025 / づ ♡

[milkbobatyun]

"do you have a crush on me or something?" With dan Heng x fem reader no angst please 😭🙏🏻 romantic

dear little anon boba ! your letter has been received ! 💌 after a looooooooooong time, a return letter can be found here, under the name 'yearning whispers' ! ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ please enjoy and hopefully it's everything/majority you envisioned !!

[milkbobatyun]

yearning whispers

pairing: dan heng x reader

genre: fluff

summary: the astral express love you dearly, but they're sick and tired of watching you dance around your feelings, so naturally, they give you the push you need

word count: 1.3k

a/n: HOPEFULLY this translated well into what i had planned out in my head, tysm to my favourite (and only) beta reader @nfekwefdskldm, also for the title idea, love you heaps boo <3 ps beta reader applications are open, just pop by my inbox if you also want to get previews and we can work smth out :3

it was an open and well-known secret on the astral express: [name] had a big, fat crush on the resident archivist. the only problem? they barely talked to each other.

sure, you were friends, but your poor heart could barely last 2 minutes in his presence before your brain was screaming at you to do something, anything. say something stupid, run yourself into a glass door, hell, even eat drywall.

your inability to properly interact with dan heng exasperated march and stressed out himeko, who would drink her coffee slightly more aggressively when you and dan heng were in her vicinity. 

even poor welt felt that he was growing more white hairs and wrinkles watching you panicking and reading your book upside down while lounging in the comfy booths of the lounge carriage, while dan heng sat in the one next to you, calmly sorting through his papers.

as your best friends, the poor trailblazer and march bore the brunt of your love-fueled rants, fighting back yawns as you all lay on your stomachs, chip bags rustling and plushies tucked under your arms.

“just tell him,” march suggested, lazing on her back and kicking up her legs. “what’s the worst that could happen?”

a compilation of worst-case scenarios flooded into your mind. dan heng rejecting you, dan heng leaving the astral express for good at the next stop. dan heng telling you he would fall in love with anyone but you.

colour drained from your face before you smothered yourself into the soft belly of your pom pom plush and letting out a frustrated scream.

the trailblazer exchanged glances with march, one that roughly translated to ‘there’s no hope left with this one.’

absolutely sick and tired of how jittery you were around dan heng, the rest of the nameless set up a flawless and perfect plan.

one ordinary afternoon, himeko sent you into the archives to fetch a book she had wanted on a whim. with a sigh you could only obediently follow the orders of your elders, simultaneously internally cursing and praising himeko at the same time. you were terrified, but a little part of your inner self, buried somewhere deep in your heart, hoped that you would.

thus, that’s how you found yourself scouring through the shelves of books in the archives, breathing in dust bunnies and crawling under the groaning shelves to slide out boxes that dan heng had yet to sort through, all in hopes of finding this elusive book himeko desperately wanted.

just as you’re reaching into the suspiciously dark depths of underneath another shelf, you hear the door slide open with a soft whoosh.

“[name]?” dan heng’s voice echoed throughout the room.

you jolted in shock, quickly aborting your mission and shuffling backwards, about as elegantly as you can while taking half the dust with you. it’s just your luck that you manage to choke on a mouthful of dust and bump your head on the shelf as you retreat.

cursing softly under your breath and threatening pom pom for missing so many cleaning spots in your mind, you sheepishly greet dan heng, dust smears across your cheeks and dust bunnies making new homes in your hair. 

as predicted, you muddle out some explanation as to why you’re rolling around in the dust of the archives like a chinchilla before you scramble out of the room, shouting an apology for all the dust you’ve left in your wake.

little did you know, in your haste, you had dropped the little raccoon keychain the trailblazer had gifted you from a planet they visited.

noticing the sad little fellow lying on the floor, dan heng picked him up, wondering if he should chase after you and give the keychain to you face to face or leave the raccoon in front of your designated room.

that night dan heng lay in his sad excuse of a bed, the trailblazer’s keychain dangling from his lithe fingers. he knew you were attached to that little trash muncher, so maybe it would be best if he returned it as soon as possible.

gently, dan heng slid open his door, careful not to wake anyone, namely the nosy march who lived next door, and padding to your room. dan heng paused outside your door, hearing things knocking around and pages flying in the air, until his three polite knocks stilled the movement in your room.

“march you little bi-” you hollered, throwing open the door, before being shocked into silence. black hair. teal blue eyes as clear as running water. oh. that wasn’t march.

“are you ok?” dan heng asked gently, tilting his head. peeping behind you, dan heng could’ve sworn a tornado made its way through your room; plushies thrown off your bed, the blankets piled on the plush carpet. papers were scattered across the table and floor, as though you were frantically searching for something.

the words disappeared into thin air, hiding from your brain out of second-hand embarrassment at nearly calling your crush what you would normally call march.

“uh—hi, yeah im peachy— is that even how you use that word? oh, now im rambling.” you winced inwardly, both logic and sense abandoning ship and leaving your brain an empty, lovey-dovey mess. it was going to be so obvious you had a crush on him now.

“i found this and thought i should give it back to its owner.” dan heng reached into his pocket and fished out your prized raccoon keychain, gently placing the runaway into your outstretched palm. his fingers brushed against your skin for a brief second, but this slight touch was enough to send hopeless crush pink blooming across your cheeks like watercolour paint.

“thank you for returning him, i’ll be careful with him next time, assuming march doesn’t try to steal him,” you assured dan heng, your eyes glued to his shoes, which were somehow now much more interesting than his—

“pretty face,” you mumbled mindlessly.

“sorry?” dan heng tilted his head in amusement. “did you say something?”

your eyes snapped up to his face in shock, hands waving wildly, like windshield wipers trying to physically swat the idea away.

“no, no, no!” you protested, trying to politely slide the door shut, but you were too slow. dan heng had planted his foot in the way. there was no way you were winning against a vidyadhara high elder, albeit a reincarnation.

“what,” dan heng teased, voice dancing on the edge of laughing. “do you have a crush on me or something?”

an alarm blared in your mind, sending your thoughts and remaining braincells into panic mode, waving their arms and screaming, bumping into each other or the walls of your brain.

you shook your head so fast the world became a blur. 

“nope, definitely not. you wanna hear it in spanish? noh.” you denied, though the tips of your ears were bright hot red, little neon signs that screamed, ‘that’s a big fat lie!’

you wanted to melt into a mortified puddle of human embarrassment, but that wasn’t an option, so you did the next best thing: dive into the comforting blanket on the floor. after all, you followed the wise words of “if i cant see you, you cant see me.”

laughter slipped past dan heng’s lips, a sound so melodious you wanted to declare that your embarrassment could go to hell, maybe everything was all worth it for this moment.

“youre cute.” he had the audacity to drop the ‘c’ bomb on you, before leaving the room and sliding the door shut behind him and letting your lagging brain try to compute what he said.

the next morning, himeko sat in her usual booth, a cup of suspicious coffee sat in front of her, watching as you zombie-shuffled towards her, dramatically flopping down at her feet like a ragdoll.

“so,” she grinned, mock innocence plastered on her face. “how was your late night conversation? enjoy it?”

taglist (open): @leehanscorydora, @pastelmitzuki, @nfekwefdskldm

∧,,,∧ ( ̳• · • ̳)  © curated with love by milkbobatyun 2025 / づ ♡

[milkbobatyun]

arranged marriage with Anaxagoras please, he is my husband, make it fluff 🥹 I really need this man

hello little anon boba! owlbert has arrived with his letter for you ! 💌

hope you enjoy reading 'the dromas and his chimera' ! ₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ₊˚⊹♡

(ps apologies for the delay, i was fighting for my life w assignments and also writer's block ˙◠˙ )

[milkbobatyun]

the dromas and his chimera

pairing: anaxa x reader

genre: fluff

summary: bound by a childhood pact made by your fathers, you and anaxa grow up as best friends. with the knowledge that you will one day marry, you're left wondering if anaxa feels the same.

word count: 1k

a/n: as per the request, don't worry, there won't be any angst ! :3 apologies that it's taken me so long to get started on the event requests ! i loved writing this rq and hope that it's what you hoped for, although anaxa might be slightly ooc ( ꩜ ᯅ ꩜;)

brotherhood borne from the flaming battlegrounds of war, forged by the fiery flames of battle, comradery and near-death was a bond hard to break. such an experience created an unbreakable relationship between your father and anaxa’s father, so much so they made a pact to each other—if they were to have a son and a daughter, so long as the children were willing, they would get married in the future.

that’s how you ended up growing up alongside anaxa and his elder sister. since youth, you and anaxa had known of the pact between your fathers. it didn’t bother you much, anaxa was your ‘bestest friend in the world’. 

he was like the dromasses he liked so much, tacit and kind in nature, while you were like the chimeras, cheerful and bright, though your productivity heavily relied on your fluctuating energy levels.

while others, children and adults alike, got a long, droning lecture about why they were to address anaxa as anaxagoras, he would only sigh dejectedly at your choice of nicknames: ‘nax’, ‘naxie’. ‘ana’ was saved for when you really wanted to press his buttons, which was often. anaxa knew the consequences of correcting you—sad puppy dog eyes and a big pout until he awkwardly apologised with a gift, usually a cake his older sister helped him make.

on the day of your eighth birthday, anaxa and his sister had surprised you with a homemade birthday cake and a chimera plushie, complete with a mini dromas onesie and wonky stitches, a sign that anaxa had tried his best before his exasperated sister took over the needle work. with comedic solemnity, anaxa had placed the chimera in your hands, promising that he would be a good ‘father’ to your shared child.

ironically, for his ninth birthday, you and his sister worked together, hand-sewing a matching dromas plush, fitted with a chimera onesie. gently cradling the dromas to his chest, anaxa beamed as you echoed his own promise from a year ago, vowing to never break up your happy little family.

the exchange of the matching plushies remained a physical manifestation of the promise made by your fathers. your ‘children’ went everywhere together, until the two of you were ‘too old’ to bring the plushies around, and so they stayed tucked under the warm sheets of your respective beds every night.

buried underneath the teasing remarks and jokes made by both families and anaxa’s sweet sister, the innocent childhood friendship aged like fine wine, taking on a more delicate edge. anaxa’s baby fat disappeared, until he was all high cheek bones and sharp jawline, while you grew into your features.

when the both of you began attending the grove of ephiphany, everything changed. they were small and subtle, barely noticeable if the two of you didnt grow up together.

when the girls all flocked around anaxa, batting their long eyelashes and twirling their hair, your stomach twisted in knots, leaving a slight crease carved into your forehead and a sour taste in your mouth. you knew in your heart that anaxa would probably honour his father’s wishes and end up marrying you, but you didn’t want the marriage to be one that kept him shackled to you, especially if there was someone already residing in his heart.

anaxa couldn’t help but frown when he noticed how some guys got too close to you, their hand lingering on your shoulder a second too long to be only friendly.

“he’s not worth talking to.” anaxa had announced, on your walk home together, face passive and voice cold. you tried to stamp out the flicker of hope that danced gleefully in your heart, but no net could contain all the stray butterflies flitting about in your stomach.

one night, when anaxa had come over to help you prepare a dinner for the two families, he glanced towards your two plushies, nestled close together on the kitchen counter, watching as the two of you manouvered around the kitchen like a silent waltz, anaxa stirring pots and sprinkling seasoning while you prepped ingredients.

the air was delicate and fragile, as though one wrong word could shatter the serenity of the environment.

“you think they were serious about it?” you suddenly piped up, thoughts wandering as you set the table.

“about?” anaxa prompted, voice even and his back facing you, though his heart had lept to his throat.

“the promise, the marriage,” you waved your hand dismissively. “it was probably a running joke or something.”

a puff of laughter escaped anaxa’s lips. “you think?” his voice was wistful and gentle, as though the next words that fell from his mouth would break the delicate balance of your friendship.

“what if,” anaxa hesitated, chewing on his bottom lip nervously, rubbing his face, his eyes with his hands. “what if i didn’t mind the promise, that that was what i always hoped for?”

the utensils you were setting stopped clinking, even the boiling pot bubbled more quietly. you blinked at anaxa, who was standing by the stove, mindlessly staring at the depths of the pot as he stirred, as though it suddenly held the secrets of the universe.

“i think,” you hesitated, fiddling nervously with the corner of the tablecloth. “i wouldn’t be opposed to the idea.”

with his back still to you and unbeknownst to you, anaxa broke into a relieved smile.

“thank god,” he exhaled, nodding in relief.

you watched the silhouette of anaxa as he raised his hand and wiped at his face. anxiety seized your heart in its jittery hands.

“you crying?” you worried, hurrying towards him.

to your surprise, anaxa turned to you, sniffling as he wiped away at his red and teary eyes.

“worse,” he complained, a teasing frown playing at his lips. “there was spice on my hands when i rubbed my eyes.”

exasperated, you smacked him on his arm, while cheery laughter filled the kitchen. the dromas and chimera plushies snuggled closer to each other, their smiles beaming wider.

taglist (open): @leehanscorydora, @pastelmitzuki, @nfekwefdskldm

∧,,,∧ ( ̳• · • ̳)  © curated with love by milkbobatyun 2025 / づ ♡

[milkbobatyun]

Heyyyy I’m the anon who requested the bachelor/dilf! Jing Yuan x fem! reader fic… I just wanna say thx and I LOVED IT!! (And If possible could I be 💸anon?) (if that’s something you do—I’ve seen other accs do this)…

Also question do you have a favorite HSR character? Mine is Jingliu, Black Swan close 2nd and Robin is 3rd.

HI BABES (つ╹₃╹)つ ♡ THANK YOUUUUU !! I HOPE IT WAS WHAT YOU WERE HOPING FOR~ OFC OFC YOU CAN BE 💸anon~ (im ngl, idrk how stuff like this works but THAT'S OK !! #learningcurve) in terms of fav hsr character, i have MANY LOL um currently, it would be anaxa (BTW shoutout to those who have anaxa rqs rotting away in my inbox, i love yall sm for that (˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧) but it used to be dan heng IL~ (im also a loyal kafka lover hehe !!) (ps. i WILL get to the inbox requests soon, once i finish up with all my exams and whatnot (ᵕ—ᴗ—))

[milkbobatyun]

400 follower special event !

𝐮𝐧𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐫𝐞 𝐩𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐯𝐨𝐮𝐬 !

when i started this blog just 6 days shy from a year ago, i never expected much from a small humble blog, but today, or rather, yesterday, we officially reached 400 followers ! before we get into the major part, i thought i'd reveal that i might start calling my followers little boba!

thank you for your continuous support of my humble little blog, and cheers to more fics to come !

as a way to say thank you for reaching 400 followers, i invite you to participate in this event, hosted to celebrate this milestone ! don't miss out and don't be shy ! but !! please remember to check my rules on my carrd !

ps. all fandoms that i've previously written for are open, if you're not sure, just send me an ask !

without further ado, let's get this party started !

TROUPES !

accidental confession

arranged marriage

coworkers 

denial

enemies to lovers

fake dating

forbidden love

forced proximity

miscommunication 

mutual pinning

oblivious 

opposites attract

secret relationship

unrequited love

PROMPTS !

"i need you now"

"can i sleep beside you tonight?"

"holy shit you're burning up"

"i genuinely don't know why my brain just goes blank when i look at you. i think i'm going a little crazy."

"you're in denial." "i'm not in denial."

"i want to believe you, i do"

"when i grow up, i will marry you."

“easy, just buy me a nice ring and leave the lying part to me.”

"maybe, forever was a word meant for memories, not people."

"i had a string somewhere under my left ribs, tightly and inextricably knotted to a similar string situated in the corresponding quarter of you."

"i remember you said that you would always love me."

"wherever you are is my home — my only home."

"kiss me before you go."

"do you have a crush on me or something?"

"of course i love him, we've been friends for ages."

all works relating to this even will have the tag #petitelettre; please show this blog some love ♡

taglist (open): @leehanscorydora, @pastelmitzuki, @nfekwefdskldm

∧,,,∧ ( ̳• · • ̳)  © curated with love by milkbobatyun 2025 / づ ♡

[milkbobatyun]

rises the moon

pairing: sunday x reader

genre: fluff, angst

summary: he was the last person you'd expect to fall from the gates of heaven, but even lucifer was a fallen angel, so why would sunday be an exception?

word count: 1.1k

a/n: because i owe @nfekwefdskldm a sunday fic (シ_ _)シ and this has been my brainrot for a couple days alr

when himeko and welt had told you that they had picked up a new nameless to trailblaze with the astral express, he was the last person you would expect to see stepping foot into the train carriage, looking lost, like a stray puppy or cat, not at all the regal head of the oak family that you remembered.

he stood near the entrance, shifting restlessly, as though he was afraid pom pom would try to bite his ankles or throw him out. march was talking animatedly. from your vantage point on the landing that led to the bedrooms, you could practically see her vibrating with energy, arms flailing as she chatted sunday’s ear off. 

sunday was nodding politely to whatever march 7th was rambling about, the same thoughtful look you knew plastered his face like a mask. the same golden eyes, flitting around the carriage and drinking in the details. then they found you. 

when you looked into his eyes, you were drawn back to the warm, balmy days, dream-like and so far away.

to strangers and the other children, sunday was a doll made of cold porcelain. admire him, idolise him and respect him, but under no circumstances were you to touch him or talk to him.

underneath his carefully crafted mask of obedience, there was a side he showed to only his little sister and their best friend.

sunday was not only a thoughtful and reserved heir of the oak family, he was also a mischievous and daring boy. sunday, who had a heart filled with dreams and warm hopes, would sneak three pudding tarts before his music lesson and eating another when he was sent outside for singing terribly. he would share the remaining tart with his best friend, [name], giving you the larger piece of the two.

he would scale the tallest trees of the yard on a dare, falling and breaking his halo in the process. even through the pain, he would comfort you, who was crying more than him, assuring you that no, he was not going to die, nor was he going to snitch on you.

despite his cold-looking exterior, sunday was a soft hearted baby on the inside, cradling a little charmony dove he had found, nursed it back to health and sending his sister detailed letters, recounting the adventures he had together with the dove and you, his best friend.

since his youth, sunday was destined for more. as the next head of the oak family, responsibilities weighed down upon his shoulders, shackles and chains that got too heavy for him. those expectations anchored him to penacony, while you and robin both fled the nest, flying out of reach of him.

when you followed the footsteps of his little sister and left him desolate and alone, he didn’t have the heart to look back, not even arriving at the dock to bid you a final farewell as you departed.

nevertheless, handwritten letters piled upon his desk, drowned under the flood of paperwork that served as a reminder of his duties. gifts arrived every year on his birthday, sitting unopened in a chest by the foot of his bed. everything reminded him of you, your scent infused in the paper and wrappings of the letters and gifts, your voice echoing in his head when sunday had first read through the letters.

then one day, the letters stopped.

when sunday had heard that the astral express was coming to penacony, he had hope that the stars had heard his silent prayers in the night, that he would see you again. but as his eyes fervently scanned the members who stepped off the train, he didn’t see your bright smile that he knew so well.

he didn’t expect that he would see you at his lowest point, stowed away on the astral express after his descent from heaven.

as the gentle whirl of the train engine and the gramophone hummed throughout the night, the rest of the astral express was enwrapped in the bliss of sleep, save for two members.

the trailblazer had been kind enough to offer their bedroom to share with sunday, but the stifling quiet of the room had driven him to seek refuge in the lobby, under the watchful gaze of the stars outside.

with a soft whir, the parlour door slid open with a gentle click. turning his head, sunday saw your silhouette, illuminated in the soft night light of the lobby. in your hands, you held two steaming mugs, the courtesy of shush.

a spicy smell of hot chocolate wafted from the delicious steam of the mug, reminding sunday of his sunlit childhood days of mischief.

years of friendship had taught you the most miniscule mannerisms of sunday. light and joy flickered across his face like the shadows of a candle, his wings beside his ears fluttered gently in pleasant surprise, he sat straighter, a ghost of a smile lining his lips before it faded as quickly as it came. 

what right had he, to talk you? after he broke off all contact when you left? 

but nothing could stop the bright beam of hope rearing its eager head, when you sat down next to him, the cushions dipping. sipping from your mug, you offered the other one to sunday, a small smile lighting up your face when he quietly accepted.

wrapping his hands around the warm mug, the gramophone sang gently in the background, nostalgia embracing the two of you.

"I’m not who you remember," sunday murmured quietly to the silent carriage, eyes downcast and staring at his reflection in his cup, unable to meet your eyes.

“no, you’re not.” you affirmed, nursing the warm cup of drink in your hands, “you’re kinder, more free than when we were younger. you carry less of a burden upon your shoulders. your eyes have a brighter light to them.”

the conversation lulled, quiet settling around them like a soft blanket, fluffy and peppered with the scent of hot chocolate, just like the one they used to hide under, along with robin during winter storms.

when the sleepy members of the astral express stumbled their way to the lobby the next morning, they were greeted with a rare sight.

gentle snores filled the air, two now cold hot chocolate mugs sitting on the table. sunday sat fast asleep, posture straight as always, resting his head upon yours, which lay on his shoulder. between you, your fingers lay close on the plush of the couch——nearly brushing, but not quite. so, so close, as though drawn to each other by an unnoticeable magnetic pull.

taglist (open): @leehanscorydora, @pastelmitzuki, @nfekwefdskldm

∧,,,∧ ( ̳• · • ̳)  © curated with love by milkbobatyun 2025 / づ ♡

[milkbobatyun]

lover boy !

pairing: various x reader

genre: fluff

summary: lovestruck!honkai star rail boys and their love languages

word count: 474

a/n: because this thought popped into my head and now you guys need to read it !

acts of service the saying “actions speak louder than words” couldn’t be more true for him. anything that helps ease your burdens speaks volumes for him. ranging from offering to do the dishes to planning a whole vacation without your knowledge, nothing is too grand a gesture for him to do for you. treating you like a princess, quiet, thoughtful gestures, such as noticing things are running out and restocking for you, reaching out to take your bag or making you a drink just the way you like it reminds you of the unspoken ways love can be professed.

ARGENTI, boothill, moze

quality time to him, nothing says “i love you” more than spending quiet time with him. despite the simplicity of the activity——binging the latest show, reading through the dusty, first edition books or listening quietly as you talk about your day, along with your grand, animated gestures, never fail to put a small smile on his face. sometimes you wonder if he listens, but you are pleasantly surprised when he remembers the small details, his attention on you always, even in a crowded room, he would always manage to find you instantly.

ANAXA, dan heng, blade, dr ratio

physical touch he craves to keep you in his arms, to give you endless hugs and run his fingers through your hair. for him, these touches show his love, his care, his concern, sometimes even his apology. oftentimes, people struggle to convey what they wish to say without words. but with him, a simple, often unconscious touch reassures you, reminds you that you’re not alone. these actions communicate his promise and desire to keep you safe and comforted, his vow to eternally love you.

JINGYUAN, mydei, jiaoqiu, luocha, sunday

words of affirmation sometimes, words speak louder than actions. he loves to shower you with unsolicited compliments that mean the world to you. hearing the encouragement and kindness of simple words that carry the weight of his love for you never fails to brighten your day. his voice that softens when he calls your name, keen eyes picking up on the smallest changes and complimenting you, a lighthouse in the storm, never failing to guide you in moments of uncertainty. his words of affirmation sends your spirits skywards, 

PHAINON

gift-giving people often mistaken this love language for materialism for the receiver. instead, every trinket, keychain and small memento he buys you reminds him of you—your favourite colour, favourite animal or a hobby you mentioned in passing just once. regardless of what it costs him, he would do anything to see your smile light up your face, tender joy glowing in your eyes. for him, the gifts he brings you are a symbol of his love for you and you are more precious to him that whatever he sacrificed to bring the gift to you.

AVENTURINE

taglist (open): @leehanscorydora, @pastelmitzuki

∧,,,∧ ( ̳• · • ̳)  © curated with love by milkbobatyun 2025 / づ ♡

[milkbobatyun]

moments of love

pairing: jingyuan x fem!reader

genre: fluff

summary: rumours spark to life when the most eligible bachelor of the xianzhou returns with a little boy in his arms, throwing your life in a completely new direction and unveiling hidden feelings.

word count: 1.3k

a/n: first work from a request, releasing it a lot earlier than what i planned bc this idea is simply too good ! to the anonnie who requested, i hope this is somewhat similar to what you were hoping for !! ( ˶ˆ꒳ˆ˵ )

it was a well-known fact that jingyuan was one of, if not, the most eligible bachelor of the xianzhou. 

young ladies gossiped and flocked to gawk at the sight of jingyuan patrolling the streets in his uniform, while aunties tried to set up their daughters, and sometimes even their sons, whenever jingyuan or one of his subordinates ran errands at their store.

rumours often surfaced upon the streets of the xianzhou, whenever jingyuan is spotted talking to a young lady or makes a brief interaction with a youthful shopkeeper. unfortunately for the locals, these rumours are stamped out before they can bloom into ludicrous gossip. curiously, the only rumour that hasn’t been quashed the moment it emerged is the one about jingyuan and his secretary.

naturally, jingyuan’s return from a hard-fought battle, with a child and in his arms, no less, sends shock waves through the tight-knit planet. within an hour of his arrival back, the news had spread like wildfire.

“so that’s why he often goes missing for days on end.”

“it must be tough for him, poor general.”

“haiyah, i knew i should’ve pushed my daughter to talk to him earlier.”

unfortunately for you, as his trusty secretary and long-time friend, not only does the burden of curbing these rumors fell on your shoulders, sweeping you off your feet and burying you in paperwork, but jingyuan also finds the need to interrupt your weekends and breaks with worried text messages and phone calls, summoning you to his house as help in caring for yanqing. at least he has the decency to butter up his ‘beloved’, ‘treasured’ and ‘ever-so-capable’ friend and secretary before making his request.

thus, since the arrival of the small blonde boy, yanqing, whose face and body was littered with cuts, you have become a temporary resident of the General’s abode. unbeknownst to you, the mansion’s owner secretly hopes that you will be a permanent resident.

you play the part of many roles in the household: secretary, occasional cook and baker, medic and caretaker of yanqing. 

anxiety and stress bubbles in your chest when you watch the general spar with his little aide, their swords singing against each other and glinting in the sunlight. yanqing was a capable young lad, you knew that, but a small part of you couldn’t help but worry for him, the memory of his watery eyes and sad pout when you treated his injuries surfacing to mind.

with a gentle clink, you place the bowl of freshly cut fruit upon the mahogany table, set under the grand tree of the courtyard. suddenly the clanging of blades cease, as both adult and child alike race towards the refreshments.

jingyuan reaches for the largest piece of fruit in the bowl, but his hand is promptly smacked away by yours as you send him a sharp glare.

“you’re an adult,” you scold, teasing ringing clear in your voice, “yanqing needs to grow up, he needs the fruit more than you.”

flashing a gleeful grin at jingyuan, yanqing gladly accepts the toothpick you offer him, the fruit skewered on top. taking a triumphant bite out of the crispy fruit, yanqing dramatically savours the fruit.

“as always, this fruit is delicious!” yanqing sighs delightedly, sticking a teasing tongue out at jingyuan.

jingyuan sighs, “i can’t believe yanqing has stolen your affections in such a short time.” he complains, his eyes shining with mirth and something more raw and soft, a look that you can’t exactly put your finger on.

the sunlight filtering through the leaves makes your skin glows, jingyuan notices, your smile more gentle and cheerful as you converse with yanqing.

the warm breeze of summer cools, golden brown leaves fluttering in the winds, until the silent arrival of snow at night buries the xianzhou into a winter wonderland.

as the temperatures plummet, you begin nagging and bundling yanqing in more clothing. every time, yanqing protests that jingyuan doesn’t wear as many layers as he does, resulting in the both of them being scolded and an extra jacket bundled into jingyuan’s arms.

absentmindedly, you adjust yanqing’s scarf before reaching up and brushing stray hairs from jingyuan’s face. with your beautiful face mere centimeters from his, jingyuan can feel his ears warming when your soft breath fans across his skin.

thankfully for him, yanqing only points out the general’s tomato red ears when they have stepped out the mansion, allowing jingyuan to smoothly pin the redness on the chill of winter.

maybe that snowball fight, sans the knowledge of boss lady—yanqing’s nickname for you, under the ‘terrible’ influence of jingyuan—was not a good idea, yanqing reflected, as he lay in bed, throat sore and nose sniffling.

frankly, he was about to either roast to death or be crushed under the weight of the blankets, as well as a teenage mimi comfortably loafing on his chest. she was a new and very much treasured addition to the family, but her weight really was something.

perhaps it was the stifling heat of the room, or perhaps it was the rather high fever he was running that clouded yanqing’s brain as he drifted in and out of consciousness. when he felt the brush of fingers against his forehead, he squinted open his eyes, finding concern and worry swimming in yours as you sat by his bedside, busy wringing out the now warm towel into a nearby basin.

“thank you āniáng,” yanqing murmured sleepily, brain too fuzzy with sickness to comprenhend what he just said.

a flash of surprise ran across your face before it was chased away from your eyes by the crinkle of a smile. warmth bloomed in your chest like the first flowers of spring.

this wasn’t the first time yanqing had called you ‘mother’. you remember that time when he was leaving with jingyuan for his first patrol only a few months since his arrival on the xianzhou. your stomach was tight with knots as you instructed yanqing to stay sharp and for jingyuan to protect yanqing well, even though you were well-aware of his own capabilities from watching him spar, blah blah blah.

then, yanqing was huffing and puffing that you were “nagging like an old lady”.

when you pressed for him to promise you that he would stay safe and glaring menacingly at jingyuan to make sure he kept his word of protecting the child——as you had called yanqing, the young swordsman only sighed and rolled his eyes with amusement and slight annoyance. “yes mā.” he drawled, heaving another long sigh.

“what are you smiling about?” jingyuan enquired curiously, striding into the dim room with a steaming, bitter bowl of medicine in his hands. “plotting your next punishment for me because i had a snowball fight with yanqing?”

“precisely,” you answered with a clipped tone, joy and teasing dancing in your eyes, a hint of malice in your kindly smile. “if it wasn’t for you, yanqing’s brain wouldn’t be so fried that his tongue slips and he calls me his āniáng.”

jingyuan merely raises a quirked eyebrow, a faint smile ghosting across his lips, hidden in the shadows thrown by the room. just as he is about to reply, or make a sharp, teasing remark, he is interrupted by a small, croaky voice.

“stop bickering like an old married couple and let me rest…” yanqing groans, throwing his arms over his eyes.

throwing a playful glare at jingyuan and a mock shushing motion against your lips, you reach for the bowl in jingyuan’s hands, fingers brushing against his and sending sparks flying up jingyuan’s skin.

resting his elbows against the back of your chair, jingyuan’s head hovers near your shoulder as he observes you, his longtime friend and love, caring so gently for his little aide. adoration, pride and warmth burned bright in jingyuan’s chest.

“have you ever,” jingyuan pondered aloud, humming thoughtfully in your ear, “imagined a life together?”

red burst like fireworks across your face and dyed your ears a pretty pink, like the pink that dusts the sky at sunset. maybe it was a thought that you could entertain, some time in the near future.

taglist (open): @leehanscorydora, @pastelmitzuki

∧,,,∧ ( ̳• · • ̳)  © curated with love by milkbobatyun 2025 / づ ♡

[milkbobatyun]

Hey! I'm not sure if this is your style, but I have this idea for a Dilf! Jing Yuan x f! reader story. In it, Yanqing is his son, and they meet a young woman on the Luofu, leading to love at first sight. Fast forward, and Yanqing accidentally calls her “Mom.” She just laughs and replies, “You can call me ‘Mom’ if you want.” Jing Yuan smiles, but in his mind, he's thinking, “I’m going to marry this woman one day.”

Idk this sounded better in my head (my first ask here)😭

wait omg yes i love this ideaaaaaaa

i'll work on it when i stop procrastinating ( ◡̀_◡́)ᕤ (aka [hopefully] around easter when i start school holidays)

[milkbobatyun]

(sorry for the super long msg) HII i just discovered ur page from the angstober ayato oneshot and i just wanted 2 say omgomgomg u are so cool!!! i luv ur writing style and and we like a lot of the same fandoms so i’m super looking forward to what you make next <333 also… what’s ur fav txt track 🎤⁉️ personally i’ve been looping skipping stones and dear sputnik a LOT lately lol

ahhhhhhh tyty ヾ(•̀ ヮ <)و just saying that i might have 2 pieces in the works to look forwards to~ (˵ ¬ᴗ¬˵) (probably coming out around easter/before then hopefully ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝) i love alllll the txt songs im not gonna lie (≖⩊≖) but i think minisode 3 tracklist has a special place in my heart <3 my absolute favourite is quarter life but the yt version cus taehyun in the second verse gives me ✨life✨ ( ˘ᴗ˘ )

[milkbobatyun]

beautiful stranger

pairing: dan heng x reader

genre: slight fluff, pining

summary: it was fate that brought you together, so many what ifs that could've led to a fairytale moment

word count: 1.3k

a/n: this idea's been collecting dust in my drafts and i finally had the energy and creativity to write it out :D would recc listening to 'beautiful stranger' by laufey cus i found the song while writing this and felt like it matched <3

the clouds were dyed dark with the rain. above, the sky grumbled in warning of the oncoming storm. people scurried across the train station platforms, a blur of motion and echoing footsteps. some are distracted by their phone, chatting away and promising to return early. others hug their backpacks close to their chests, head bobbing forwards or knocking against the window with eyes drooping shut. surrounded by other people, all are lost in their own little worlds.

for dan heng, this evening commute of chaos was routine. the rush to squeeze into a rare free seat, the monochrome interior of the train carriage was as familiar to him as the back of his hand. he was a creature of habit, always taking the train that left at the peak of rush hour.

by some tragically beautiful twist of fate, today, he had taken a later train that he usually would. the carriage was noticeably emptier, the din of conversation hushed and more relaxed. settling into a nearby seat, his headphones cut down on the quiet hum of conversation like a knife, blanketing him in the soothing rhythm of nocturnes and sonatas.

the cold breeze blew in from the open doors, sending a chill down each passenger’s spine. loud warning beeps sounded throughout the carriage, cautioning passengers of the closing doors. 

a skidding flurry of movement. an ungraceful topple into dan heng’s neighbouring seat. shoulders knocking together. this disruptive interruption of pace made dan heng look up from his laptop, a curt remark about train courtesy on the tip of his tongue.

you were always rushing to get to places. procrastination was your greatest enemy, your habit always leaving you in a race against the hands of the clock.

today, you were later than usual, a series of misfortunes leading to you scrambling to catch your train. with, quite literally, a leap of faith and frantic glance, you found an empty seat on the train, though you barely managed to stop yourself from falling over, and almost causing you to fall into the lap of a handsome stranger.

with a calm, bordering unreadable expression and a quiet, nearly silent sigh, dan heng adjusted his posture slightly, allowing you to recollect yourself without drawing more attention. 

flustered and embarrassed, you whispered hushed apologies, wincing and silently dying inside when you noticed the amount of eyes watching you. wordlessly, dan heng nodded in acknowledgement, a faint smile dancing in amusement on his lips before his syes shifted back to his laptop. how sweet of destiny to nearly send a gorgeous person flying into his lap.

resigning yourself to the thought that you embarrassed yourself in front of a semi-full train carriage of passengers, you dipped your head down low, plugging in your headphones and taking out a sketchbook to pass the time.

the rhythmic clacking of the train dashing along the tracks fills the quiet carriage, though the two of you are oblivious to it, dan heng immersed in the melodies and symphonies of classical music, while you resonate with the silent yearning of indie and alternative lyrics.

you look up when dan heng stands, getting off a stop before you do. it’s amazing how in sync the schedules of strangers are, you muse, watching the departing silhouette disappear among the sea of people. 

somehow, he seems familiar, a sense of nostalgia and forgotten memories threatening to surface.

you don’t expect to see the same stranger again, but you do, on another rainy afternoon. he sits in the same seat as last time, his laptop propped up on his knees, while he works, brows furrowed in concentration.

unwilling to disturb his peace, you gently take a seat next to him, this time without tripping.

glancing up from his bright laptop screen, a spark of recognition appears in dan heng’s eyes.

“hello clumsy stranger.” he teases, voice soft and hushed.

you still, heat crawling up your cheeks. how mortifying, that he remembers you like that.

“hello.” you reply meekly, ready to bury yourself in a hole. the conversation lulls, replaced by the warning beeps of the train, once again reminding passengers to hurry up.

as the train begins on its repetitive journey, dan heng’s focus shifts back to his laptop, though he watches from his peripherals as you take out your sketchbook. it’s a new one, he observes, the pages fresh and crisp.

dan heng resigns himself to the gentle notes of his music, the clicking of keys a steady tempo in the background. on the other hand, your finger taps against the paper to the beat of the music, whilst the pencil in your other hand scratches lines and swoops across the page.

once again, dan heng stands, getting off a stop before you do. watching him leave, you wonder if the stars will align once more, just like they did in all the other universes.

slowly, you begin to notice the quiet but dashing stranger has come a routine in your life, his appearance growing more and more frequent. you would be deceiving yourself if you had said that you weren’t disappointed on the days you didn’t see him.

for an unknown reason, dan heng began taking the later train more and more. 

one day, dan heng sat in his usual seat on the late train, anticipating your arrival. yet, though the warning beeps of the train that usually herald your arrival have sounded, you did not appear.

that day, the monotonous interior of the carriage seemed darker, more gloomy. the gaping presence of the pretty, familiar stranger beside him spoke volumes, a rare sense of disappointment flooding through dan heng.

your quiet, comforting routine has become a constant. the lucky stroke of serendipity intertwined your fates once again.

for others, love is loud. it’s bold confessions in public, dates to amusement parks or the booming bass of concerts. between the two familiar strangers, love is quiet.

for you, love is when your fingers almost brushed as the both of you reached for your fallen eraser, the gentle smile you greet dan heng with when you arrive on the train. words aren’t exchanged, but the shared glances of amusement, the silent understanding are enough to convey everything.

each moment is small and often wordless, yet they hold so much unspoken weight and are heavy with meaning.

one chilly autumn afternoon, weeks after your first encounter, you try to tell yourself it’s another day, an ordinary train ride.

the moment you enter the train carriage, you search for his familiar silhouette.

bathed in the marigold light of the setting sun, the beautiful stranger sat in his seat, eyes flickering up from his screen to give you a smile of acknowledgement.

the train hums to life, clacking along the rains. the autumn leaves swirl past the window, fluttering towards the ground like how your heart dances when you’re near him. silently, you wonder if he notices the way you tense, a little more on edge, you muse if he too feels the way your focus seems to narrow, the world shrinking to contain only the two of you.

a sharp turn of the train leaves you grasping the closest pole for stability. a fleeting and familiar but electric ghost of a touch sends shockwaves through your skin as your fingers touch.

neither of you dare to breathe, looking away awkwardly and shrinking into yourselves.

the train continues on, the quiet air charged with something fragile, unspoken. hesitation, longing and doubt lingers in your mind, a phantom that haunts your thoughts as you once again watch dan heng exit the train, wrapping his scarf securely against the biting wind.

pausing at the door, dan heng turns around, stealing a glance over his shoulder. a silent question hangs in the air between you, dangling on a fragile string.

you part your lips, throat suddenly dry—maybe, just maybe—just this time, you might have courage to say what lingers on your mind.

but the doors shut, words dying on your tongue.

dan heng becomes a blur of motion as he fades into the ocean of faces.

perhaps fate would be kind enough to entangle your paths once more, some day in the future.

taglist (open): @leehanscorydora, @pastelmitzuki

∧,,,∧ ( ̳• · • ̳)  © curated with love by milkbobatyun 2025 / づ ♡

[milkbobatyun]

Hi!!! This is my first time asking for a request hehe

tw ed

I was wondering if u could write a comfort thing of aventurine, dr. ratio, mydei, and jing yuan discovering ur ed and comforting u if it isnt too triggering/too much of an ask,,,

- anon

hi anonnie !!

tysm for your request, but after thinking over it for a while, ive decided to not write it (ᴗ ︵ ᴗ。)

firstly because i dont want to misrepresent this illness or romanticise it (in a sense) as im aware that this is a sensitive topic for some people

secondly because neither i nor people around me (that im aware) of suffer from this, nor am i an expert in this field, so i feel that it would be inappropriate if i try to write about it from an outsider perspective

tysm for understanding (ㅅ´ ˘ `)