I finally think it's become too long, so I separated some of the series into it's own list!
Warning: Currently dealing with writer’ block 😔
Note: I'll still reply (right away) to request that I can't do, so If I didn't reply yet, it mean either I'm still writing them or I didn't get to them yet! Thank you for requesting! Always enjoy getting them 💕 (Even if it's not fluff ahahahaha)
LaDs - Canon/Canon-divergence
Current WIP
Love and Deepspace - What if (Twins)
From the Card
Zayne - Immediate Disorder Extended (Mature)
Zayne - ID Extended Extra (Smut)
Zayne - Fragrant Possession Celebration (Smut)
Dating (Zayne)
Customize AI 🤖😉
Arm Wrestle 💪🏻
Good Morning? 💤 (Smut)
Accident? 🐱😽 (Mature)
Game on❄️ (Smut)
Aftercare 🫂
Another Game? 🩺 (Smut)
Restraint ➰ (Smut)
I know I should be writing rn, I'm working on it 😭 I'm sorry! Wait a little bit more 🙏🏻😔 (if you're still there)
Ignore my little brother clicking flashlight on the background 💀
I'm sorry my voice 💀 I'm doing this weekly journal video with my friend on IG so that's why I'm recording my pulls to put on that video (I was just thinking of doing like a montage for this few days that I would be pulling.... But here we are ahahahahaha)
I think Zayne might've spared me cuz how indecisive I am at the start 😭 I swear I was planning to do 10 before I hit record, Idk how it became 20 and then to 40 💀
Oh and look!
I immediately went to 101 (from 100) 😂 I didn't realize how much affinity those give ahahahahaha
I deserve this!! Because of all the Xavier spooked I've gotten this year 💀
Oh and all the touching??? Hellooo???? 😳☺️ Yes, give it all to me, thank you very much 🙏🏻
And omg can we talk about how in this myth Zayne didn't die but he still suffers? 😭 (Cuz MC did..... Great.... Thanks.... Love it....at least from the trailer that looks like how it is)
On Zayne’s birthday, you return to the Arctic with your family, where memories of the past meet the joy of the present—yet when the night quiets, it’s still just the two of you, as it’s always been.
Ao3 link
My Masterlist ✨
Notes
Pairing: Zayne x MC
Married couple, parenthood AU, family focus, birthday surprise/celebration, silly, chaotic, sweet!
Thank you @evilldentists for the feedback before I post this 💕
Disclaimer: I haven't read the Dawnbreak Promise Card yet, this story is only reflective of the Birthday Event story! 👀 And the setting I used is from my LaDs AU story (not finished yet *ahem*) which is why their relationship with Dr. Noah might be slightly different. Just tiny bit 😂
One of your twins bolts from the car before the engine quiets, his backpack dangling by one strap as he charges forward. The wind carries a bracing chill, and his boots crunch against the early September frost as he runs, but ahead, the warm glow of a cabin perched at the edge of Snowcrest, near Mt. Eternal, beckons—a quiet haven Dr. Noah has called home almost as long as you know him.
“Lucas—!” You scramble after him, fumbling with the door and tugging your scarf tighter. There isn’t much snow yet even in the Arctic this time of year, but enough ice to make you nervous. “Don’t run, it’s slippery—”
Too late. His boots skid, and for a terrifying second you think he’s going to wipe out face-first. Instead, he flails, catches himself, and keeps charging toward the porch where Dr. Noah is waiting. A blur of white darts from the side—a fox, tail flashing as it yips and barrels straight for Lucas.
Behind you, Zayne opens his door at a much more civilized pace. He reaches first for you, calmly adjusting the scarf at your neck.
“I’ll get our luggage,” he says. “Go rein in your son before he manages to break Dr. Noah’s old bones.”
You shoot him a look. “My son?”
“Ours.” The corner of his mouth curves. “And here I thought you were going to defend Dr. Noah.” It’s a double jab, unmistakable. But before you can answer, he leans down to brush a kiss across your cheek. You roll your eyes—that husband of yours, seriously.
“Dad, we’ll help,” Callum—Lucas other half— pipes up from the backseat, already unbuckling. Serena, your oldest, follows, pulling her jacket tight, her expression mild but ready.
Zayne ruffles their hair in passing—earning a half-scowl from Callum and a neat dodge from Serena, who slips out of reach. You can’t help grinning as you go in for Serena’s cheek yourself, only to be dodged with a muttered, “Mom…” that carries teenage exasperation.
At least Callum isn’t so lucky. Your gloved hand catches him, pinching his cheek before he can duck. He groans about being too old for it—something he’s been reminding you of ever since he turned eleven.
“Go help your dad,” you tell him, ignoring his glare as you hurry after Lucas.
By the time you reach the porch, Lucas is already kneeling in the snow, both hands buried in the fox’s thick fur while it wriggles and yips against him. Dr. Noah stands a step above, cane in hand, watching the chaos with a faint, indulgent smile.
“I don’t remember this little guy being here before!” Lucas says, his voice muffled against the fox’s fur.
“Well,” Dr. Noah says, adjusting his glasses, “the last time you were here, you could barely remember your left from your right.”
“Clearly, Pudding remembers you,” Serena adds dryly, crouching as the fox trots toward her. Her expression softens as she strokes Pudding’s head. “Hello there, girl.”
“Pudding?” Callum echoes, puzzled. “She’s named after dessert?”
Serena nods once, matter-of-fact. “It runs in the family. The perfect name for Pudding.”
Lucas’ head snaps up. “Wait—what do you mean she knows me?” He bends lower, scratching her chin until she rolls halfway onto her side, pawing at his sleeve.
Callum frowns, clearly more confused by Serena’s answer.
A laugh escapes Dr. Noah as he shifts his cane against the rail. “How about we save the story for inside? It’s warmer there—and safer for my bones.”
You can’t quite smother your snort, which the kids catch immediately. All three turn, staring at you in suspicion as Dr. Noah ushers them toward the door.
You glance at Zayne, who meets your look with that quiet, knowing expression that almost breaks your composure. As if on cue, Dr. Noah pauses to rub his back. Zayne doesn’t have to say a word—the arch of his brow is enough.
See?
You elbow him lightly, brushing some frost from your glove. He catches your arm with ease, lips twitching upward.
“You’re awful,” you murmur, though your smile betrays you.
“I learned from the best.”
“Hey!”
“Children, please don’t fight in the house,” Dr. Noah calls, perfectly deadpan.
“But we’re not, Gramps!” Lucas protests from the doorway.
“Not you kids,” comes the reply.
You give Zayne a look as you trail after the others. “The more silver hair you get, the more menace you become.”
His eyes glint, amused—the kind that says he’s happy to let you dig your own grave with that remark. Then it softens, fondness settling over his expression, holding you there longer than it should.
For a moment, you forget the cold biting at your cheeks, forget the kids bickering. It’s just him, watching you like you’ve handed him the world with an offhand remark.
You huff, heat rising in your face as you tug at the suitcase. He doesn’t let go, of course—only shifts his grip so you’re both pulling it along together.
“Yes, yes, I know. Shush. Come on, before we get scolded for real this time.”
Together you finally step inside, the air immediately warmer, scented faintly of pinewood and something sweet left to simmer on the stove. Coats come off in a flurry—scarves tugged loose, boots thudding by the door. Pudding trots in boldly as if she owns the place, circling Lucas before sprawling across the rug like a guardian. By the time you and Zayne set the last suitcase against the wall, the cabin feels full again—of laughter, of noise, of familiarity.
The next day slips into rhythm, the kind you only get when the outside world feels too far away to matter. Breakfast barely finishes before chaos begins—Lucas shovels eggs into his mouth like he’s in a speed contest, Callum tries to pack toast for “emergencies,” and Serena sighs like she’s the only reasonable one.
You intercept the smuggled toast before reminding Callum that the frozen river isn’t far. They can be back before lunch. He eyes you suspiciously, weighing your words in a stare-off that lasts far too long. Somehow, Zayne ends up acting as referee. Callum decides to trust you at last. And when all of you arrived, the frozen river proves you right.
The twins wobble their way across the ice on skates Dr. Noah dug out of storage, clinging to each other more than balancing on their own. When that inevitably collapses into a heap, Zayne lifts them both by the scruff of their jackets like misbehaving puppies—you see your chance then. You make a snowball and hit him square in the shoulder.
The war that follows echoes through the frosted trees, your laughter blending with the kids’ shouts until your throat aches from the cold air.
Serena’s careful throws always aimed at whoever’s laughing the loudest, which ends up being Lucas most of the time.
But it doesn’t take long for the all-out battle to turn into “Zayne versus Everyone else”. A chorus of “That’s cheating!” rises, because really who stands a chance when he can conjure snowballs out of thin air?
When everyone finally collapses into the snow—at least you’re not the first one that do so—the day has already claimed its victory.
The next morning, Dr. Noah coaxes everyone onto the gentle slope behind his house. It’s less skiing and more “creative falling,” but the twins declare victory anyway. You can’t help laughing when Zayne—stoic as ever—brushes snow from his coat with the calm dignity of someone who clearly didn’t just wipe out in front of his children—something almost unheard of. He’s rarely out of his element in the snow. You’ve only seen him fall once or twice before.
And eventually, the snow gives way to warmth as everyone drifts back inside with flushed cheeks and damp hair, shedding layers into untidy piles by the door—which you think definitely will bite everyone in the back later.
Puzzles and card games take over the table almost instantly. Callum invents rules so strict and complicated even Lucas and Serena band together to complain, and his “blanket fort masterpiece” sprawls across half the living room before Dr. Noah pretends to issue an eviction notice that Serena defends with solemn conviction, as if her livelihood is at risk. You sometimes can’t tell if she’s just playing along or taking it as seriously as her brothers.
Zayne ducks inside the fort the moment the twins beckon, his long legs awkwardly folded under the sagging roof as if he takes its structural integrity very seriously. The twins howl at the sight, and you smother a laugh before deciding to join them.
The moment you squeeze through the opening, the entire fort sags dangerously. Serena hisses, “Mom, don’t move!” but the warning comes too late—the roof collapses, sending everyone into a heap of blankets and laughter, with Pudding circling the heap.
Zayne looks at you from under the wreckage with his usual composure, though his voice is drier than the air outside.
“Remarkable timing.”
You push a pillow off your head, grinning. “Well, you can’t expect me to let you have all the fun.”
The kids erupt in shrieks of protest about whose fault it was.
Once the laughter settles and the fort is rebuilt sturdier than before, the afternoon drifts into quieter rhythms. It’s during one of these lulls that Dr. Noah leans back in his chair and begins a story of his previous companion, Pie—an Arctic fox with more charm than sense, who managed to scatter his lineage across most of Snowcrest. Fourteen litters, if Dr. Noah’s count is right. Callum’s jaw drops, Serena’s eyes shine, and even Lucas mutters a quiet, “No way.”
Pudding, curled by the hearth, blinks like she already knows how famous her father is. Dr. Noah explains she was up for adoption once, but the moment five-year-old Serena named her, Pudding decided this was her home.
By the third morning, even you feel the ache—muscles sore from skiing falls, fingers still stiff from endless snowballs, and even Callum’s fort has been rebuilt thrice already—once at Lucas’s insistence for a remodel. Zayne looks mildly pleased at the thought of a quiet day indoors, though you and the kids are far from done.
Because today is the day your real plan begins.
Operation: Distract The Birthday Dad.
Dr. Noah plays his part with a straight face, tying Zayne down with journals and case studies while the twins take turns dragging him into every game they can think of—or demanding obscure ice sculptures with his Evol.
You hover nearby, drifting between the living room and kitchen under the excuse of fetching tea or checking on Pudding. Each time you pass the threshold, Zayne’s gaze follows you just long enough to spark suspicion, but the kids are relentless—Lucas throws himself into HoloSketch, flinging half-formed shapes into the air that collapse before anyone can guess them. Callum plays along for a while, but on one of your loops between the kitchen and living room, the game’s already abandoned—Lucas is tugging on Zayne’s sleeve demanding another ice sculpture.
Serena vanishes and reappears like a shadow, slipping toward the kitchen at the right moments.
You’re elbow-deep in flour when she returns again, pushing the door shut with her hip. Her usual composure cracks just enough to reveal the sparkle in her eyes. “He’s asking questions,” she reports in a whisper, brushing a dusting of snow off her sleeves. You guess they were still experimenting, though how Dr. Noah allows snow inside is a mystery. Birthday power is amazing.
“Already?” you sigh, though your lips twitch. “I thought you guys were keeping him busy.”
“We are,” Serena insists, though the corner of her mouth curves. “But Dad keeps… looking.”
You glance at the door instinctively, half-expecting Zayne to appear in the threshold. But it stays closed. Good.
“Stir this for me,” you say, sliding the bowl toward her before you duck back out, making a quick loop into the living room.
Zayne is still pinned in place by Lucas’s snow request—a lopsided lighthouse, if you’re guessing right. Though his eyes flick up when you return. Callum immediately shoots his hand up, “Dad! Make a ship to pair with the lighthouse!” which makes Zayne pause, raising his brows before conceding with quiet amusement.
“Alright.” He turns back to his craft.
When you come back to the kitchen, Serena still stirring. She does it precise and careful, the wooden spoon moving in slow circles. A moment later Callum bursts in, breathless with his report. “Mom—Dad almost came in here! Lucas tackled him with chess. Like—actually tackled.”
Serena’s shoulders shake with silent laughter, and you bite the inside of your cheek to keep from doing the same.
Callum walks closer to the kitchen counter, “I can’t tell if that’s part of his plan or it just happened, but I thought I’ll report it anyway.”
Serena sets the spoon aside, smooth as ever. “Then I’d better get back before he realizes three of us are missing from the living room. Don’t linger,” she adds to her brother, her gaze narrowing before she slips out again.
Callum waits until the door clicks shut, then immediately dips a finger into the bowl, licking frosting off with a grimace.
You lift your eyebrows at him as if you’re expecting that response from him.
He nods his head as if he’s assessing a contest food, “Dad would definitely love this cake. Cake so sweet it could kill someone.” He continues, poking the frosting cautiously.
“Callum!” you laugh, swatting at him with the spatula.
He just shrugs, utterly unbothered. “What? It’s a poison at this point, I can’t understand how they can stomach this much sweet but I suppose it’s his birthday.”
“Exactly. And we have another cake for us low sugar folks.”
He beams, “Perfect! Now let me see that cake—” as he goes to the other side of the counter.
“Out,” you say, laughing harder now as you try to shoo him toward the door. He dodges halfheartedly, remembering he still has frosting, he licks it and regrets it again.
“And wipe your hands before your dad sees the evidence!”
Beyond the door, you can still hear Zayne’s voice, calm as ever. It threads against Dr. Noah’s deeper timbre and Lucas’s animated protests.
You’re finishing the last layer of decorations around the cake when the door creaks open again. This time, it’s Lucas, his hair sticking up as if Pudding’s tail had been rubbing against him.
“Mom, you will not believe what’s happening out there.” He leans against the counter like he’s delivering breaking news. “The most important part—I won at chess against Sis.”
“Woah! That’s amazing, Luc! See? Practice makes perfect.” His grin widening at your reaction, and you can’t help smiling back.
“And in other news, dearest sister keeps asking about med school—which you know, a good distraction—but like we still have tomorrow before we’re going back to school, just why…”
You snicker hearing his report, glancing at him over your shoulder, you say. “She is in her first year, Lucas. It makes sense.”
“Yeah, but do you know what Callum does, mom??????” He paused for a dramatic effect, as expected of your son. You nod in approval.
“Callum’s just sitting by the fire reading! Reading! While I’m the only one taking this whole mission seriously!”
“Ah, I did heard about you tackling your dad.”
“Exactly!”
You fight a smile, steadying the piping bag in your hand. “Sounds like you’re handling it just fine.”
Lucas huffs, arms crossing. “If this whole plan fails, it’s not on me. I’m the only one actually doing my job right now.”
You raise a brow, piping steady in your hand. “Really? Because from where I’m standing, your job was supposed to be outside—not sneaking in here to snitch.”
He grins, caught but unrepentant. “I’m just making sure the mission’s still on track.”
“Mission’s fine,” you say, nudging him toward the door with your elbow before he can sneak a swipe of frosting like his brother did before—and probably more. “Now back out before your dad catches on.”
“Fine, fine.” He moves, muttering something about how no one appreciates his sacrifices. He’s just about to march back out when the kitchen doorway darkens, and both of you freeze.
Zayne stands there, gaze flicking from Lucas’s startled face to the cake, then back to you.
Panic flashes across Lucas’s expression. “…Surprise!” you and he blurt quietly at the exact same time.
It’s so awkward, so absurdly uncoordinated, that you clap a hand over your mouth before laughter bubbles out. Lucas’s shoulders hunch, his ears red enough you’d bet he’s wishing for the floor to swallow him.
Zayne doesn’t move at first, only stands there with that maddening composure of his, one brow lifting in slow amusement. “Surprise?” he repeats, tone bone-dry. “For what, exactly?”
Lucas flails, pointing at the cake. “It’s—it’s for tomorrow! But you weren’t supposed to see it! And isn’t Sis supposed to—ugh!” He throws his hands up, already stomping toward the living room as he mutters. “This plan is doomed.”
Zayne’s eyes return to you, the tease clear—but you catch the warmth beneath it, subtle enough to tighten your chest. “Hmm? I can act surprised tomorrow, if that helps.”
You shake your head, laughter spilling past your hand. So much for a secret. You knew it would be hard to pull off—there’s no business trip to distracted him this time—but still, you thought it would be nice to try with the kids.
“Well, before you pretend not to know,” you say, lifting the spoon, “you might as well taste your surprise first.”
“I’m sure Lucas already told everyone else the plan’s failed,” he replies as he steps closer, slipping easily to your side. His arm brushes past yours, settling against the counter.
“Then you’d better act your best,” you murmur, holding out the bite of cake. He leans in, tasting with deliberate slowness, and when he straightens, the faintest smile tugs at his lips.
“Sweet,” he says softly. “Although I think you’re sweeter than the cake.”
Your mouth is halfway open when he steals a kiss—quick, warm, nothing dramatic, but still enough to leave your face heated.
You swat at him with the spoon, flustered. “Zayne—!”
“Mm.” His gaze lingers, steady and unbothered. “Don’t worry. I’ll still be surprised tomorrow.”
The room is still dim when you stir awake, snowlight slipping through the curtains. Morning exists only because the clock says so.
The steady rhythm of Zayne’s breathing anchors the silence beside you, his back turned slightly, hair falling in dark strands across the pillow. You allow yourself a moment just to watch him — peaceful in a way that makes you forget the world outside could ever intrude.
The floorboards creak. A whisper of giggles slips through the crack of the door. You’re already smiling by the time the knob turns slowly, carefully, as though they really believe they’re being quiet.
You glance back at Zayne, still asleep, and gently press your hand against his arm. “Zayne,” you murmur, leaning close enough that your breath brushes his ear. His lashes twitch, but he doesn’t move. You nudge again, soft but insistent. “Wake up.”
He hums low in his throat, his arm reaches for you instead, pulling you closer in faint protest. The sound is drowned out when the door bursts open.
“Happy birthday!!”
The kids tumble in all at once, voices overlapping, bright and eager. Lucas is already halfway to the bed, clutching a confetti cannon, before Callum shushes him with a dramatic wave, as if that could make any difference. Serena is not far behind them, holding a small card with Happy birthday Dad! on it.
Before you can even say happy birthday as well, Lucas pops the confetti.
Pop!
It rains across the bed, startling everyone.
“I told you it was a bad idea.” —Callum
“How can you have a birthday without confetti?!” —Lucas
“We can do the holograms one now.” —Serena
“Sis, you can’t be serious!” —Lucas
Zayne shifts, eyes finally opening, though he still looks half-dreaming as he props himself on your side. Definitely still half-asleep, you think. His gaze sweeps over them — over the three eager faces that stop arguing the moment Zayne moves, you already smiling at their chaos — before his expression eases, and it’s the kind of sight that makes your heart feel full.
“…Good morning,” he says, his voice still rough with sleep, but the faint curve of his mouth shows this is worth losing sleep for.
Even on his birthday, Zayne still makes breakfast—and no one can argue when he insists that it’s his day, therefore it’s his choice. Not his exact words but it’s basically the same.
The house slips into the restless rhythm of packing after that. Suitcases dragged from corners. Clothes folded into uneven stacks. Lucas’s boots misplaced, then miraculously found under the couch.
You catch Zayne’s eye across the room — he’s crouched beside Callum, helping him wrestle with a zipper that refuses to budge. He’s so absorbed in his tasks that you don’t worry he’ll notice you and the others slipping in and out the back door.
The cold air bites when you step outside, and the covered space behind Dr. Noah’s house is perfect. The snow is cleared away in patches, leaving a firm ground beneath the canopy of beams strung with frost. Not quite the same but it’ll be just as good.
You run your hand along one of the wooden posts, already picturing how it will look tonight when it’s lit and adorned.
“Here, this side,” you whisper, waving Serena over. She helps brush snow from the benches, tidying the place up here and there. Lucas and Callum did more when you and Serena are inside, rotating.
It isn’t much yet — just swept space and chairs set aside — but the promise of it makes your chest warm. You steal one more glance toward the house, reassured when you see no sign of Zayne.
He might already suspect the cake, but there are still plenty of surprises left.
You smooth the last zipper of your suitcase closed, but the horizon outside the window hasn’t shifted at all—the sun still out of reach beneath the Arctic sky. The time tells you it's already afternoon but the darkness outside says otherwise.
Everyone bundles up, and the drive into town feels like its own small adventure—endless snow in every direction, the world hushed but for the crunch of tires on ice.
The town is small, its streets lit with warm lanterns and strings of lights against the deep twilight. Shops scatter curiosities across their windows: hand-carved charms, knitted scarves brighter than the landscape, polished stones that catch the glow. It’s the same as years ago—and somehow, not at all.
Zayne lingers at a stall with old books stacked in uneven towers, his gloved fingers brushing spines with an absent reverence.
You, meanwhile, are more deliberate. Every display sparks ideas—not just souvenirs for home, but ways to fill the back of Dr. Noah’s house with a little more warmth tonight. A lantern with frosted glass. A coil of ribbon in deep green. Even a string of bells that chime softly when lifted.
Callum notices first, his eyes flicking from the bells to your face. He smiles knowingly and nudges Lucas, who tries to school his expression but fails miserably. Serena catches on as well, her quiet voice sliding in at your shoulder.
“You’re going to turn that whole patio into something out of a postcard, mom,” she says, dry but not unkind.
You nudge her back, whispering, “Don’t let him hear you.”
When you glance over, Zayne is still absorbed in the books, oblivious to your plotting. It reminds you of that saying—hiding in plain sight.
You take in the lanterns glowing against the snow, the green ribbon strung along the posts catching the light just as you’d hoped. Bells jingle faintly in the wind, nearly drowned by the twins’ laughter as they tug Zayne outside.
He steps into the covered patio, eyes traveling over the space—the table set with steaming bowls of soup, plates of bread still warm, mugs waiting with cocoa, and a tray of Snowcreemes dusted with sugar. The warmth feels carved out of the Arctic night.
At the center of the table sits the cake, in its finished form, its surface a glossy lake of blue frosting. Five tiny snowmen march across it, their round shapes catching the lantern light. At the back rises an edible sugar cabin tucked beneath spun-sugar peaks.
Lucas insists on making the reveal grand, tugging at the cloth Serena laid over it as if it’s the centerpiece of a stage play. The “flourish” nearly topples a lantern, but somehow he pulls it off, spreading his arms wide.
“The cake!” he declares.
The frosting gleams in the golden light, the snowmen smiling cheerfully atop it. Zayne’s eyes linger there, and you catch the shift — not surprise, exactly, but a softened warmth that settles so deep it tightens your chest to watch. Then, just as quickly, it shifts again.
He places a hand lightly against his chest, tilting his head.
“A cake,” he says, voice dry as a frozen lake. “For me? I never would have guessed.”
You bite your lip to hold back a snicker, but it almost slips out.
Lucas groans so loudly Callum has to shove him in the shoulder. “Dad! You can do better than that!”
“I have no idea what you’re implying, Luc.” Zayne lifts a brow, meeting your gaze with that subtle amusement. “I’m utterly shocked.”
Even Serena cracks a smile at that, but Lucas just throws up his hands. “Fine, but look! There’s five little snowmen, see? That’s us. And if you peek at the cabin on top—yes, it’s edible—you’ll find two more. Gramps and Pudding.”
Dr. Noah makes a dignified noise. “I can see the resemblance from here.”
Lucas grins wider. “Pudding’s the one with the scarf.” He then turns to face Zayne, expectant. “Isn’t that just the best thing you’ve seen?”
Zayne studies the cake again — he noticed it the first time, of course, but still, his gaze lingers on the snowmen before lifting to his children. The corners of his eyes soften, the kind of warmth words don’t quite hold.
“One of them, yes,” he says simply, the weight of it carried more in the look he gives them than the words he’s saying.
The gifts come next. Serena goes first, stepping forward with a small, elegant box. Inside lies a fountain pen — sleek, brushed silver with a nib that gleams faintly with etched circuitry. It’s both old-world and futuristic, something that looks like it belongs in Zayne’s hands.
“For your notes,” Serena says quietly, though her gaze meets his, steady.
He tests the weight of it in his hand, nodding once, serious. “Perfect.” Then he reaches again to pat Serena’s head, she shifts just enough to dodge—yet both their mouths curve faintly in the same moment before she looks away.
Callum shifts next, holding up a neatly wrapped package. When Zayne opens it, he finds a mug — but not just any mug. The base glows faintly with a built-in charge coil.
“It keeps things warm on its own,” Callum explains quickly, his words rushed, his shoulders a touch too stiff. “So your coffee doesn’t go cold. Or tea. Or any hot drink, really.”
“Practical,” Zayne says, and the way he says it makes Callum straighten with quiet pride. He even takes the head pat like it’s a medal ceremony.
Finally, Lucas nearly topples over as he wrestles a framed drawing out from behind his back. He thrusts it into Zayne’s hands — a family portrait also with Pudding and Dr. Noah, hand-drawn, every detail exaggerated. Serena’s serious frown turned into a smirk, Callum’s posture far too rigid, Pudding spread across everyone’s laps. Dr. Noah drawn with exaggerated posture and wrinkles. Zayne’s drawn taller than the rest, naturally, but you notice Lucas gave you the biggest smile.
“And—” Lucas presses a button on his wristband. The same drawing flashes to life on the holo-display across the room, larger than life. “Ta-da! Now you can’t escape it.”
This time, Zayne actually laughs, low and brief, his gaze sweeping from the drawing to his children. You see him studies each gift like they’re artifacts, treasures, thanking them with such quiet sincerity — pulling them into a hug this time — that Serena doesn’t avoid it, Callum doesn’t even protest, and Lucas beams like he just saved the world.
Before the kids can scatter, you pull out a small package. “From me — well, technically from me and Dr. Noah.”
Dr. Noah, who’s been leaning against the doorway watching with an indulgent smile, lifts a hand. “I only signed the delivery form,” he says smoothly, though his eyes are amused.
Inside the wrapping is a novelty mug, one of those heat-sensitive ones. At first it looks plain black, but as Zayne pours Callum’s still-warm cocoa inside, neon letters blaze across the surface: World’s Most Patient Doctor (Except When He’s Not).
The kids dissolve into laughter, Lucas practically collapsing into the bench.
Zayne lifts the mug, gaze unreadable except for the faint twitch at the corner of his mouth. “…A nice compliment for sure.”
“Definitely not my idea,” Dr. Noah says mildly.
“Hmm.” Zayne studies the steaming mug as though evaluating its scientific worth. “I’ll use it… strategically.”
You stifle a laugh, standing there, watching them all bathed in lantern light, you think maybe this is exactly what you’d hoped the surprise would feel like — not flawless, not perfectly hidden, but exactly right.
Later, when the house has gone quiet—Dr. Noah retired early, the twins collapsed into a tangle of blankets after swearing they weren’t tired, and Serena slipped off with a book that eventually dropped from her hands mid-page—you find Zayne by the window, the moonlight tracing faint silver across his profile.
Darkness stretches unbroken outside, the snow throwing back a pale glow that softens the edges of his expression. A half-empty mug sits on the table nearby, steam long since faded.
“They wore themselves out,” you murmur, slipping into the chair beside him. The fire behind you crackles low, its warmth pressing against your back.
His gaze flicks toward you, then lingers. “You, too.”
“Maybe.” You lean into the chair, eyes drawn to the pen Serena gave him, turning slowly in his hand—deliberate, thoughtful, as though even that simple motion deserves care. “Worth it, though.”
“Always is with all of you.” His voice is quiet, almost too soft to catch. His eyes stay fixed on the window, where the snow falls in steady curtains, before he adds, “This feels familiar.”
You tilt your head. “Does it?”
The corner of his mouth twitches. “Yes. We celebrated my birthday years back in the Arctic after all.”
“Fifteen years ago, to be exact.”
His brow lifts slightly. “Interesting. I thought this was supposed to be a spontaneous trip. Something convenient but nice before the children go back to school.”
“And it is!” You protest with mock indignation, pushing up from the chair. “Spontaneous and convenient.”
“Mm.” His expression says he doesn’t believe you for a second.
“I’m getting the leftover Snowcreemes,” you declare, leaving him to follow you into the kitchen with his empty mug in hand.
“We have some left?”
“Obviously. Who do you think I am?”
“Someone who thinks hiding intentions makes them less intentional.”
You swat his arm playfully, and as always rather than just avoid it he catches your hand instead—briefly squeezing it before letting go. The motion leaves your chest warmer than the cocoa will ever manage.
While you set out the tray of Snowcreemes, he steps to the stove, already reaching for the pan.
“I’ll make us hot chocolate,” he says simply.
You lean against the counter beside him, watching the way his movements are precise even in something so small as stirring milk. “I tried to make us come back here five years ago, but we were both too busy. And well the next year after that... doing it after eleven years just didn’t feel like a round number.”
He chuckles softly, the sound low, warm. It is a bit silly when you think about it, but still.
“That birthday was still great, though. Right?”
“My answer won’t change,” he replies without hesitation, glancing at you as though every word needs to be heard. “Any birthday with you is always perfect. And with our children…” He shakes his head, lips curving faintly. “I don’t know what I did to deserve all of this.”
Your throat tightens. Before you can answer, his cool fingertips brush against your temple, down the line of your cheek. The touch steadies you more than the fire ever could.
“You deserve every single love you get,” you whisper, covering his hand with yours. “Because it’s you.”
Something flickers in his expression—soft, open in a way you are familiar with now. He bends, brushing a kiss across your lips, slow and deliberate. You lean in, catching his sleeve as if to keep him there, and when he pulls back, you loop your arms around him anyway, clinging without hesitation.
“If you hold on any tighter,” his voice is low, threaded with dry amusement, “the cups will be cold before I’m done.”
You press your cheek to his back, smile curving against the fabric. “Then warm me up instead.”
That makes him pause. He glances over his shoulder, and for a moment his eyes catch yours—something sparking there, sharp enough to make your breath hitch, the air between you suddenly charged. It holds there, suspended between you, until you can’t help but to think of silly everything has been. Your grin slips and a laugh bubbles out. He huffs his own quiet chuckle, shaking his head as if to break the spell.
“Do it when we’re back home.”
“I will.”
And that makes you shoulder shake from laughter again.
The hot chocolate is ready before long. Zayne gathers a blanket, efficient as always, and together you slip outside to the covered terrace. Snow drifts silently in the yard, endless night stretched across the horizon, but the fire pit glows when he sparks it to life. You settle together on the bench, arms around each other, mugs warm in your hands.
The silence that follows isn’t empty—it hums, full and quiet. The fire pops. Snow whispers against the roof.
You shift, reaching into the small bag you actually prepared hours ago. “Before I forget… there’s one more thing.”
His brows draw faintly, but he accepts the box. The snow globe glimmers in the firelight when he uncovers it, the tiny likeness of your family frozen in a forever moment.
For a long time he says nothing, thumb brushing over the glass. When he finally looks at you, his eyes steady, so gentle it knots your throat before he even speaks.
“Another familiar one with a little twist.”
You clear your throat before matching his smile and saying, “Happy sweet birthday, dear.”
Zayne leans in, lips pressing to your temple—a whisper of thank you, love —before lingering there as though he can anchor himself in your warmth.
“Every year with you,” he breathes, voice barely above the snow’s hush, “is more than I ever dreamed to be given.”
You close your eyes, leaning against him, the snow globe steady where your hands and his overlap, and the world falls away.
“Me too.”
The night outside may be endless frost, endless dark—but here, wrapped in firelight and his touch, it feels like the warmest place on earth.
Zayne birthday card is the cutest ever 🥹 i love the way he's all giggly and playful and i see a lot of people saying that zayne's cheeks are fuller and his dark circles are gone too 🤣 our snowman is well fed and way happier 🥰 ughhh i love the birthday card so muchhh
Also with how the prediction leak being true up till now and it might be a multi banner again next, what if we get a baby banner next? Hahahahaha. I mean, like first we had the wedding banner, than the beach banner or we can say honeymoon banner 🤣 and summer event where we had to raise a baby bird and then infold suddenly released baby bonnet out of nowhere too?? It's really sus LOL Anyway, i missed youu! How have you been? Hope you have been having a good time 😍 Hehehehe
They're so cuteeee! Although I haven't read the card yet..... I only read the event one 😭 I know! Gosh I should read it soon but man... Awwwww he does extra adorable on this one! Love him being so full of love 🥹💕
Ahh right .. after Sylus solo, right? Still this month ;-; Fingercrossed for our pull 🤞🏻🍀 I still have 7k dias but I'm afraid with how close Zayne's myth is, it won't be enough 😭
And omg! Ahahahahaha to be fair when they did the bird mini games on that beach banner I literally went "Hmmmmmmm" 😂 I mean heck I name my lil birdie, Selene 🤭😂
Your theory might come true after all 👀 but maybe it'll be them taking care of someone's child or something because so far we got "not quite a wedding" card, and a "not quite honeymoon" card and so yk 😂
Awwwwww I missed you too! Been awhile since we talked, I mean it's been awhile since I posted anything 😅🥹 (The birthday fic is soon tho!) I have so many ideas.... I plan for it.... Write notes, timeline but when it comes to actually writing the story, my focus suddenly gone.... Hopefully I can get back to the swing of things... Especially, I have a request to write to! Those def give more motivation 😂
To be fair, my laptop is broken 💔 So now I write in my phone, it just doesn't feel the same is all 😔 or that could be my brain trying to make excuses 🤣 anyway other than that it's been good!
How about you?? Anything exciting outside of Lads? 👀🎉
omg the bday card!!! man it absolutely ruined me with the fluff so i can’t wait for ur fic!!
i was wondering if u still take requests or like have any rules regarding them? 👀 coz i need to yap zayne girl to zayne girl ykkk
Yesssss! Exactly! And with Dr. Noah there too, they're talking about their past 😭 so damn cuteeee! The whole speech about the polar night??? 😩🫶🏻
And yes! I'm still accepting requests, and I don't really have rules really other than whether I can write it or not 😅 dw, I'll still reply so you will know if I can't write it (Mostly happened if you requested angst, still can't handle them 😔)
Yap it away girly! Zayne to Zayne, Stay to Stay 🤭🙏🏻
popping in to say i’m absolutely inhaling all the dad&husband zayne fics and LORD u picture him soooo well???
like, he’s so him but also with a very honest soft side but also very in character idek how to explain but !!!!!! this is exactly how i think he’d be in a marriage and a relationship. thank you for writing him!!!! my soul feels very fed
Awwwwww 😭 you're too kind 💕 Thank you for the very sweet words, I'm glad that we think the same way! (About Zayne) I actually have a few more fanfics, especially Zayne's birthday fic, I know.... It's supposed to be up at the 5th but here we are... It's kind of like a reflection from the story event but with his family! :D Idk if it'll hit but I'm committed at this point ahahahaha Hopefully I'll get to share them this week tho! 👀
Thank you again! I'm glad anyone can enjoy my silly little stories about them (Cuz god know I'm obsessed and need to see everyone did too 😂) 🫶🏻☺️
EDIT: I just realized your pfp, is that Chan? BangChan? The amount of STAY liking Zayne is impeccable 😂 Love it 😆🤭
I know that I'm excited for his birthday but this just elevated it!!! 😭🥳❄️
Also not me plugging myself but like this is giving The Warmest Cold Days which is yk, my Honeymoon fanfic of them, even the snowball fight 😭 but ofc the canon is way cuter than mine! But still! This is the best way to see it come to life!!!
I... had a wild imagination. What if, when one of the kids was born. Suddenly there's a fluctuation, meaning that it will be a wanderer inside the hospital. Being a hunter and a mother herself, she can't let the wanderer wound the citizen and her baby who has just been born. So what will Zayne react, knowing his wife just killed a wanderer even after a labor
So I definitely could've answered this just yk, like a regular answer, technically u didn't say this is a request, but this is me so here we are 😂 although I think, I might've, yet again, get ahead of myself...... But I hope u still get to enjoy this! Let me know what u think! 💕
After giving birth, you’re forced to face a sudden attack in a hospital, pushing yourself beyond your limits to protect your family until help arrives.
Ao3 link
My Masterlist✨
Notes
Pairing: Zayne x MC (mention of Caleb x OC)
Married couple, mention of blood, non-graphic violence, postpartum, she just gave birth, guys... Cute and silly little family/spouse moment!
This isn’t your first rodeo. Thankfully, everything’s gone smoother than your first time giving birth—if you ignore the part where your second and third children decided to arrive back-to-back just a few hours ago. You knew, of course—months ago—but actually experiencing it is something else entirely.
Both boys are healthy, even if they came early. The doctors warned you, it’s not unusual for twins to arrive ahead of schedule. Still, seeing how impossibly small they are—smaller than Serena ever was—makes your heart twist in ways you didn’t think it still could.
They’re being monitored in a separate room down the hall. Zayne is with them now, Serena too—she insisted on seeing her baby brothers. Although, she did promise she’d come back soon so “Mummy doesn’t get lonely.”
God, that daughter of yours. As charming as her father. You can’t help but chuckle.
Caleb and Rose had come by to visit, with their own twins—Willow and Jace. Your hyperactive niece and nephew were ecstatic that there’s now another set of twins in the family. They’re probably still around.
You should be resting. You were resting.
Right until the air shifted.
A wrongness slithers down your spine. Familiar. Sickening. Your pulse stutters as the sterile room seems to shrink around you. You feel it—like a wire snapping taut behind your eyes.
Fluctuation.
Somewhere beyond your door, chaos cracks open like a scream.
Sirens blare—sharp, sudden, and too loud. Metal crashes against tile. Someone is yelling. Running. Something growls.
You bolt upright, too fast, and a full-body ache punches through your spine.
“Shit—” You catch yourself on the bedrail, knuckles white. Blood rushes from your head to your feet. Your delivery might have been smooth, but that doesn’t mean you can just move freely now.
You can already imagine the lecture coming from your overprotective husband.
That thought makes you snort—then wince. Still, you grit your teeth, shove off the mattress, and stagger toward the door.
Every step is punishment, soreness burning between your legs. Your hospital gown brushes cold against your thighs, and you’re painfully aware of how exposed, how unarmed, how not ready you are for a fight.
But clearly, the Wanderers didn’t get the memo.
And you don’t have the luxury of waiting.
Either you defend yourself, attack first, or you get torn apart. And you don’t really feel like doing that. Again.
You crack the door open just a sliver.
The hallway beyond is hell.
Red emergency lights strobe against the white walls. Staff are shouting over one another. A nurse is dragging a gurney toward the stairwell. Two security officers are trying to pin down something thrashing on the ground—something that doesn’t move like a person. Glass litters the floor. The smell of burnt metal chokes the air.
Your Evol stirs without you calling it, as if it, too, recognizes the threat.
Deep breath. You need to think.
Your gaze sweeps the room. No gun. No suit. No gear.
You gave birth today, after all—why would you have anything on hand?
Though honestly? Note to self, deliver baby with a tactical kit next time.
For now, focus. You’re a Hunter. You know unexpected situations. You’ve trained for this.
Your eyes land on the supply tray the nurse left behind. Scissors. A penlight. Gauze.
Not great.
Then you see it—the metal IV stand. Tall. Heavy. On wheels. Not elegant, but solid.
You wrench it free from the IV port in your arm with a hiss of pain, wrap your hand around its cold metal stem, and test its weight. It’s not a blade, but it’ll hit.
You stagger into the hallway, bracing your weight with it like a crutch—
—Just as another Wanderer rounds the far corridor.
Your breath catches.
It’s tall, and smoke swirls where a face should be. Jagged bone juts from shifting, void-colored limbs. And it’s heading straight toward the nursery.
Straight toward your children.
“No,” you whisper, Evol flaring through your chest.
You push—or in this case, you pull.
You bend your ability inward, reversing the current like a tidal drag. Your body protests.
But the Wanderer slows.
Its movement falters—limbs glitching mid-step, as if someone sucked the strength right out of it.
“That’s right,” you breathe, taking another shaky step forward. “You’re not going near there.”
The thing screeches—sharp and dissonant.
You raise the pole.
And swing.
You hit it square in the chest.
The impact jars through your arms, rattles your ribs, but the sound is solid—metal against bone. The Wanderer reels back, its shoulder caving inward. A streak of dark energy cracks across its chest like shattering glass.
You don’t let up. Can’t.
Another swing. You hook the pole low this time, slamming it into the back of its knee. It staggers with an inhuman screech.
And just as the Wanderer flails, one of the security guards lunges in with a baton, driving it into the base of the creature’s spine. His strike isn’t strong enough to finish it—but it’s enough to distract it.
“Base of the spine!” you yell hoarsely. “Then straight through the core—if it has one!”
The guard glances at you, eyes wide. You must be a sight—barefoot, swaying, hospital gown soaked with sweat, one hand bracing your side as you limp toward a monster with an IV pole like it’s a damn spear.
Still. He nods and repositions, swinging again.
The Wanderer screeches. Then crumples.
But there’s no time to breathe.
Two more shapes dart from your left—slimmer, faster than the first. One drops low, lunging for the nurse dragging the gurney.
“Left!” you shout. “Down, now!”
The nurse drops flat, barely dodging. You shove power through your Evol, and the creature’s body twists midair, dragged sideways into the wall with a sickening crack.
Another figure hurtles from the smoke behind it, claws outstretched. You pivot on instinct, pain ripping sharp through your abdomen. Your knees buckle, a broken cry catching in your throat—but your Evol doesn’t falter. You pull hard, draining its momentum until it jerks and collapses in front of you. Security piles on it immediately, batons slamming down.
Screams echo down the hall—staff shouting, metal clashing, more Wanderers breaking containment farther away, claws scraping against tile as the guards struggling to hold the line until help arrives. Glimpses of the fight flash in your peripheral, someone sprinting past, guards trying to hold a barricade, nurses dragging the injured to safety. The whole building feels like it’s collapsing into panic.
And you—shaking, pale, barely upright—just keep going.
One more shadow breaks from the chaos, larger than the rest, closing in fast. You raise the IV pole, but your arm trembles too hard to hold it steady.
Your vision tunnels.
You think—maybe that’s it.
Maybe this is where your legs finally give.
And then—
The hallway drops into silence.
Not soundless—but muted. Like the air itself has frozen.
In the distance, every Wanderer—every single one within your line of sight—seizes in place.
Then it begins. A thick sheen of ice snakes up from the floor, blooming beneath their feet, racing up limbs and torsos while they screech. They crack, twitch, and freeze mid-screech, locked in brittle sculpture. Even the one lunging toward the stairwell is suspended mid-lurch, ice clawing up its spine like something out of a nightmare.
And standing at the end of the hallway—chest rising hard, posture taut, hair wind-tossed, shirt rumpled with frost curling off his shoulders like smoke—
Is Zayne.
Your breath catches.
He looks unharmed—aside from the clear exhaustion etched into his face.
His fingers are curled into fists. His jaw is tight. His entire body is too still—the kind of stillness he only falls into when he’s barely keeping control. Thin veins of frost still creep outward from where he stands.
And his eyes—cold and burning all at once—lock on you.
The second he sees you swaying where you stand, blood on your legs, hands trembling around a bent IV pole, his composure fractures.
He’s already moving.
“You’re hurt,” he says as he reaches you, voice low but strained, checking your side, your grip, your eyes, as if making sure you’re real.
“I’m fine,” you lie through your teeth. “How are the kids? Serena? The twins—”
“They’re safe,” he says quickly, gently. His hands skim your arms, your shoulders. “Caleb has them. A deepspace tunnel opened near the twins nursery—Rose and I took care of it. She’s joined the other Hunters who arrived at the east corridor—more tunnels showed up.”
You nearly crumple with relief.
But when you look at his face properly this time, there’s that familiar crease between his brows again, not just worry this time, but a tight kind of disapproval. His jaw clenches, eyes sweeping over your pale, trembling form, down to the dry blood from between your thighs.
He doesn’t say it, but you know what he’s thinking. That you shouldn’t be standing. That you shouldn’t be in this situation to begin with.
But beneath that… there’s something else. That soft flicker in his eyes. Like he’s trying very hard not to look impressed. Not to admit that seeing you fight still does something to him.
You huff. “Lecture later, okay?”
Zayne doesn’t answer immediately. Just looks at you, as if weighing whether to argue or let it go — and then—
A shrill screech echoes from one of the deeper corridors. Sharper. Louder. More Wanderers.
The rest of everyone there stiffen at the sound, eyes darting toward the source. The air is still thick with frost from Zayne’s earlier outburst, but not all of the threats are dealt with yet.
“Okay,” Zayne says quietly — and without warning, he slips an arm under your knees and lifts you off the ground.
“Zayne—what are you doing?!” You twist in his grip, startled. “Are we leaving the civilians behind—?!”
“You’re in no condition to fight,” he says calmly, but his voice is tight. “I’ll handle the rest.”
You scowl. “You’re not either. You’re already pale.” Your fingers press against his chest. “So let’s do this together.”
Before he can protest, you reach out — and resonate with him.
It’s instant, the way your Evol latches onto his—familiar and grounding, like a heartbeat syncing with your own.
You feel it hum through your spine, amplifying his range and sharpening your focus at once. A wave of clarity crashes between you two, tethering your minds with practiced precision.
Zayne exhales, like he’s been holding in everything since the moment he found you. You brush your fingers against his sleeve.
“No need to finish them off,” you murmur. “Just freeze them. The security guard can finish them off for you. Don’t strain yourself.”
One of his eyebrows lifts, and there’s the smallest twitch at the corner of his lips. “Motherhood’s changed my wife.”
You slap his shoulder — not hard, just enough to make a point. “Shut it. If you collapse, I’m going down with you. Besides, this is more efficient.” You glare at him. “Who told you to go full blast on them anyway?”
His hand steadies at your back, voice quieter now. “When you see your loved one bleeding…” His gaze flicks down to your legs, then back up. “Impulsiveness isn’t that uncommon.”
Before you can respond, another group of Wanderers bursts from the far end of the hallway.
Zayne doesn’t hesitate. With your Evol anchoring his, the temperature drops sharply again — ice racing like veins along the floor, freezing them mid-charge before they can even shriek.
Crack—!
One of them shudders in place as a precise violet slash slams through the frozen mass from behind.
You both turn.
“Seriously?” Rose calls out from the end of the corridor, stances lowered, flanked by a squad of nearby Hunters. “You gave birth not even a day ago and picked a fight? What, the contractions weren’t exciting enough for you?”
You snort, too exhausted to manage a full laugh. “What was I supposed to do? Let the Wanderer claw at me while I lie down and breathe through it?”
Rose storms closer, her heavy boots thudding against the cracked floor. She’s got her reinforced gloves on, the knuckles faintly glowing violet — telltale residue of a recent fight. “No, you’re supposed to call for help, defend! Not attack!”
As she closes the gap, a few Hunters sweep in behind her, finishing off the remaining immobilized Wanderers and beginning to secure the area. Some check the wounded. Others relay orders through comms. Something about how this attack strangely feels too organized. But Rose doesn’t even glance at them — she’s not on duty after all. She goes straight for you, eyes scanning your figure in Zayne’s arms like she’s trying to detect hidden injuries with pure willpower.
Zayne, meanwhile, adjusts his hold on you and announces calmly, “I’m calling a timeout. I need to check on my wife.”
“Good,” Rose huffs, arms crossing over her chest as she falls into step behind you both. “Do that while I’m yelling at my sister.”
Still in Zayne’s arms, you crane your neck to glare back at her. “The best defense is a good offense!” You take a breath before continuing, “You’re not even supposed to be here.”
“Neither are you!” she snaps. “You’re supposed to be somewhere sterile and safe, not sparring with infected trash on the third floor of a goddamn hospital!”
You groan. “It wasn’t a spar, it was more of a light warm-up—”
Rose’s eyes widen, you can practically see her eye twitch. “Warm-up?! Oh, I swear—”
“Please,” Zayne cuts in, his voice low and resigned. “If you make me slip on ice while carrying my wife who just gave birth, we’re all going to be in trouble.”
Rose just grumbles something about there’s no way he’ll slip on ice and keeps walking, clearly gearing up for another round of scolding. You rest your cheek against Zayne’s chest, the thump of his heart steady beneath your ear.
You’re safe. You’re still together. And you’re still bickering — like always.
Zayne exhales again—not quite a sigh, more like the quiet surrender of a man forever resigned to loving this chaotic family… and defending it at all costs.
I'm back! Wooooooo! Who would've thought one month of not writing feels so rusty... Technically I'm in the middle of writing a different one shot but I've been procrastinating....... No judgement fellas!
Here's the series list if you want to read more about Husband/Dad Zayne! Parenthood AU list ✨
Oh and! Speaking of, is there anyone that can help me with beta read? 🙇🏻♀️ There won't be much to do besides you're telling me how the story feel, I usually do that to my friend but I've been sparing them for the last month and I feel like to do it again now is a bit much 😂 (Especially because they don't play LaDs so it was always in general vibes, which still pretty great ofc!)
Getting another person's view is always nice! I write slowly anyway so it won't be a lot or frequently, DM me if you can! 💕
Other than that see you guys in the next one!
P.S. and ofc my laptop broke down when I was feeling like writing again... So I'm back writing from my phone🤳🏻 So pardon if the layout is a bit clunky ;-;
Me too! But i love the fact that they're making new happy memories in the tower and the dance in fractal library is so beautiful (yknow since the foreseer myth were so angsty too) 🥹 they even moved from their camping tent and stayed in the foreseer tower instead 🤣
I also wanna talk about the 4 star cards! I love how zayne is such a tease in morning drift! The way he knew mc was staring at him and then lifting his shirt on purpose?? Without hesitation?? He is a menace hahaha and mc pulling his shirt down when people pass by is also reallg cuteee ahahahah 😍🥰
Oh noooo! I haven't read that one yet! It's the login bonus 4 star right? 👀 Your summary sounds like such a tease! Oh man! I gotta read it soon!
Hellooo thereeee how are youu my fellow zayne gurlieeee Ahahahahahahah i missed youu so muchh 🥰🥰
Also, please tell me you already read the newest zayne cards so we can simp together 🤣 😍
Heyyy! And back at you deary! So much to say, so much to catch up on 👀
And ofc I did 🤭 The dance! The banter! The intimacy! Ugh 😩 I cannot! 💕 I was not expecting them to go to the Foreseer tower but ofc it's like an attraction there 👀 I didn't watch the trailer because I want to experience everything when I read the card and oh boy it's an experience alright 🤭 I can't help but compared it to my fanfic lol
What about you? Which part do u want to scream at more? 😂
Why is no one telling me this??? 😳 I was actually surprise! I did not expect the character to actual post it! I just taking pictures for fun ahahaha but that is so damn cute! Awwww 🥹💕
P.S. Thank god it actually a decent pic... Imagine I was just clicking randomly.........
I'M CRAVING YOUR WORK THAT I STARTED TO RE-READ EVERY WORK OF YOURS😩😩
Awwww thank you, hon! That is so sweet of you! I'm glad u enjoy my writing ☺️ 💕 Apparently work is not the only obstacle this time.... But hopefully I'll get back to writing sooner or later! Wish me luck 🍀
hello! im a new follower but i've been reading your fics for quite a while now and they are sooooo good. im addicted to your way/style of writing and get inspiration from it whenever i write stuff myself. i just want to ask you how you manage to write without making the actions and stuff too repetitive (if u understand what im saying 😭 im very bad at explaining sorryyyy) i struggle with "he said" "she smiled" "he chuckled" kinda things every single time lol and what advice would you give to an aspiring fanfic writer like myself? 🥹 thank you in advance! i love your work and i cant wait to read more 🫶
Awwww thank you! And I'm glad I can be of help in some way! 💕
Don't worry I understand! But you gotta know, I'm also bad at explaining 😂😭 I'll try my best tho!
I also have problems with repetitions when I started to write again (still does sometimes), I usually do a few drafts before going over it again to edit and read it again, basically a lot of back and forth 😅 Human is a creature of habit, because of that now I can filter it even in the first draft! So it less work! (Just gotta keep writing 👀)
What helps me the most is looking things up on Google, the synonyms or alternative words. Sometimes even replacing snort with something like "let out a breathy laugh" or "exhale a laugh" make all the difference 👀
For this part, all I can say is go with your gut, because some descriptions work with different characters! (It all depends!) Idk if anyone notices but I never use smirk for Zayne 🤭 but some of you might already too annoyed by his "lips curve" ahahahahaha anyway back to it! 😂
For pacing, my go to usually 5 paragraphs away, for example If I use chuckles on the first paragraph then I won't use it again until the fifth paragraph or more (if needed) if there's a need to show someone chuckling before that then I use other expression than chuckle or show it in a different way like "shoulders shake slightly with silent laughter" (in this rather than sound from the chuckles, this focus more on the body language (sight) but it still chuckles, just different focus, if that make sense?)
We have five senses! Use them to your advantage! Sound, smell, touch, sight, taste!
That's basically what I did for every word too! I don't have a physical dictionary but everyone around the world that share their tips is that for me 😂
For "say" you can't really avoid it as much. Actually I read somewhere that it's better to keep it straightforward, so like "he says" "he laughs" "he whispers" is more recommended rather than make it too complicated by overthinking it (Believe me you don't want to end up with "he ejaculated" who would've thought that's the same as "he exclaimed")
I use Word docs for writing so the Find feature is my bestie at this point, just to see how much repeating words that are too close to each other 😅
And lastly if it feels like you've been editing for so long yet something still does not feel quite right, I usually sleep it off... It felt wrong at first because I was like "I need to finish this and then SLEEP" but no it's so much better to see it with fresh eyes the next day 👀
Hopefully that's easy to understand and can be helpful! 🫶🏻
This is how i imagine baby lucas and callum are while riding their bike ahahahahaha like i think the first clip is baby lucas and the second one callum 🤣 zayne is about to have a mini heart attack and is like “boys, your dad might be a cardiac surgeon but i can’t operate on myself, so please slow down”
Omg ahahahahahaha they're so damn cute! I rarely on IG but I should've known it's a gold mine for inspiration 🤣 You're so right! I can just imagine it 😩💕 The expression and movement too 🤭 Man.... I miss them... Thank you for this! 🙏🏻🤧
I have this little hc in my head for a jealous zayne hehe
So we talked about how zayne wouldn’t outwardly show his jealousy right, so imagine there’s a new recruit at the association and he didn’t know that mc is married (i’d say this is still early in their marriage) since i don’t think mc would wear her wedding ring to work since she’s a hunter, it’d get in the way & she doesn’t want it to break. and this guy is kind of over friendly with mc. Mc of course, told zayne about it but tells him not to worry but it still sets an alarm in his head but decided to stay quiet about it. Then one day this guy had the nerve to call mc on a holiday and asks her out and zayne would just talk close to the phone “honey, breakfast is ready” then takes her phone and says “sorry, she already had plans with her husband today, goodbye” and mc just sat there gaping at him 😲
Sorry for the long ask hahahaha i’ve just been thinking about jealous zayne all day 😆🤣
No no no, it's totally okay—you’re so valid for that! I mean, who doesn’t have jealous Zayne living rent-free in their head? 🤣 He’s been occupying mine all day, all year 😮💨🤭
And seriously, that is such a Zayne move—just completely blunt with it 😂 If they guy say something like,
“Hey, are you free today? Want to go out?”
He just leans to the phone and answers—like u said already—“She can’t. She’s currently on a date with her husband. Please excuse us.”
Then just hang up 🤣🤣🤣
Since both of their jobs can't really have them wear rings or jewelry—especially Zayne, who’s doing surgeries most days—I always imagined them having a necklace to hold the rings. Even outside of work, it just stays as a necklace unless they’re on a long holiday or out and about (not working), then they’d wear it on their fingers.
MC could still keep hers on under her uniform or during missions, tucked beneath everything, so that scenario work perfectly! And for Zayne? He’d have to take his off before surgery, so it’d be nice if it wasn’t just a loose ring—but then again he probably keeps it in a small box or something 😆 Honestly, he got the necklace just to match MC lol Let's be real here ahahahahaha
I was rereading oblivious yesterday and it got me wondering 🤔 do you think throughout their relationship, has zayne ever got jealous of mc’s relationship with caleb? Cause y’know even rose thought caleb like mc 😂 since zayne is very reserved and all, maybe he envied how caleb could get close to her so effortlessly?
I hope you understand what i mean 😀 i’m typing this while feeling really sleepy so i can’t string my words properly hahahaha
Ohh he does, but he didn't say it or show it, although Caleb saw through it lol in this universe I made it that MC and Rose have parents and Caleb is actually Josephine's son, I know, yes, grandma 😂 basically from 2 family it become 3 family friends.
Caleb and Zayne become friends first, because they're neighbors before the twins family move near them as well, so the dynamics are the same but slightly different, just like how this AU and the Canon are 😂🫣
Oh and then envied? yessss, it's part of the problem isn't it? Zayne noticed his feeling first, but he can't verbalize it while seeing his bsf literally verbalize everything.... their teenage year is a mess 😂 like yk how they tease it quite a lot but I really did make MC extra oblivious in this universe :v (even tho I usually don't like those characters) the difference is just she didn't realize it but her subconscious did! :D
Cliche I know but I'm a fluff girlie in the end and I thought it made sense, even when MC didn't realize it she still can't accept anyone's confession lol I always thought Rose will ask her "Why did you reject him? I thought u said he's an okay guy?" And MC will be like "I mean yeah he is but Idk just doesn't feel right" and Rose will be giving her look because the amount of time MC moaning about being single and here she is rejecting people 🤣
Oh god this has become longer than I thought but I love discussing this 😭 Okay one last thing! Basically u can see that in their College year, before they start dating that is, their dynamic is much more stable so to speak, their actions speak louder than their words, there just only so much you can hold back ahahahaha also another reason why Zayne is extra snappy, the guy been holding back for yeaaaars while being next to the oblivious girl ever (even though he also the same when it come to her) 🤣🤣
