#zayneandsnowflake

[moonlitconfessions]

Zayne if he has instagram

dr.z.li.snowman

10PM dinner. Someone insisted I try actual food that isn’t hospital vending machine cuisine.

Verdict: edible. Barely. But I appreciated the gesture.

Comment:

@miya.teaches: “That’s love disguised as steak and fries sir. Don’t play.” ↳@dr.z.li.snowman: 👀

dr.z.li.snowman

Got bullied into buying seasonal flowers. She said my apartment had “taxidermy vibes.” Rude. They’re growing on me. Slightly.

Comment:

@scrublife.grey: “The tulips aren’t the only thing blooming, bestie.” ↳@dr.z.lisnowman: 🫢🌱

dr.z.li.snowman

Midday playlist thief. No genre loyalty, just vibes and audacity.

Still let her queue songs. What does that say about me?

Comment:

@sylus.chaos: “You used to yell if I skipped a single song. What is this favoritism.” ↳@dr.z.li.snowman: “Growth.”

dr.z.li.snowman

My hoodie. My bed. My Pillows. None of which are in my possession anymore.

@miya.teaches [liked]

Comment:

@futuremdsquad: “Sir… is this a hostage situation or a soft launch?” ↳@dr.z.li.snowmani: “🫖🔒”

dr.z.li.snowman

Her name’s Miya. She’s patient where I’m sharp. Soft where I forget how. And somehow, she still thinks I’m worth staying for. I think that’s what they call luck. And yes, that's OUR cat baby

Comment:

@miya.teaches: “I stayed for the playlist.” ↳@dr.z.li.snowman: “Liar.”

miya @nezuswritingdesk

[moonlitconfessions]

The Kingdom of Baby and Prince

Zayne never thought his life would involve refereeing feline royalty.

But here he was—Saturday evening, dressed in sweatpants, holding a tiny spray bottle like it was a medical tool, and watching a face-off unfold on the living room rug.

On the left: Baby, their first and oldest cat. Dignified, poised, and full of silent judgment. On the right: Prince, their newest kitten—chaotic energy incarnate with twitchy ears and a tail that refused to stay still.

Baby flicked her tail, unimpressed. Prince batted at it with a chirp.

“Don’t,” Zayne warned quietly.

Prince stared up at him, unbothered, then pounced.

Baby swatted him once with surgical precision, then turned her back like royalty refusing an audience.

Zayne sighed and sank onto the floor between them, scooping Prince up into his lap.

“You’re lucky she has patience,” he told the kitten, who immediately tried to climb up his shoulder. “When Baby first moved in, she refused to look me in the eye for three days.”

Prince licked his chin.

From the hallway, Miya’s voice floated gently, “Zaaayne—don’t let them fight!”

“We’re not fighting,” he called back. “It’s… negotiation.”

He turned to Baby, who had leapt elegantly onto the couch and was now curled up on Miya’s side of the throw blanket like the Queen of the World. Her green eyes watched him with a slow blink that said: You deal with this.

Zayne lowered Prince back to the floor gently and stood. “Okay. Family meeting.”

Both cats blinked.

“Baby, you are still the oldest. You run the house. No one’s replacing you.”

Baby yawned but didn’t argue.

Zayne turned to Prince. “And you—no more climbing into the sink, chewing cords, or stealing my stethoscope. Also, that was my favorite tie.”

Prince squeaked. Clearly unapologetic.

Zayne sighed and walked over to the couch, sitting down slowly to avoid disturbing Baby, who graciously allowed him to sit near her. She even nudged her head against his arm.

Zayne smiled, his heart softening.

“I know you weren’t happy about us getting another cat,” he murmured to her, “but Miya said the baby should grow up with pets. And I want them to grow up with you, too. You’re family.”

Baby leaned against his hand as he scratched her ear.

Prince, having wandered back, scrambled up onto the couch and flopped across Zayne’s lap like a little loaf of chaos. Zayne sighed and looked down at the two of them.

“I swear I used to be the most intimidating man at Akso Hospital,” he muttered.

Prince purred. Baby rolled onto her side. Zayne smiled.

From down the hall, Miya appeared, belly rounding beneath her sweater, arms folded and amused. “They’ve already taken over, haven’t they?”

Zayne looked up at her with exaggerated seriousness. “I lost all authority the second we named the first one Baby.”

She laughed and made her way over, sitting beside him and resting her head on his shoulder.

Zayne wrapped one arm around her, the other gently rubbing behind Prince’s ears. “What happens when the real baby comes?” he murmured.

“Then we’ll have three babies,” Miya said softly.

Zayne looked down at Baby, then at Prince, then at Miya’s belly.

“…I need a bigger lap.”

miya: @nezuswritingdesk

a/n: i hate i cant send asks on this side blog

[moonlitconfessions]

Sounds ominous to me….we should get your bloodworks done :)

@nezuswritingdesk

[moonlitconfessions]

We Hate Carrots

The kitchen smelled suspiciously… orange.

Zayne paused in the doorway, his daughter Lily perched on his hip, her tiny hand wrapped around one of his hoodie strings. He squinted at the simmering pot on the stove like it had insulted his surgical skills.

“Smells… suspicious,” he muttered.

From behind the pot, Miya beamed with too much innocence.

“It’s soup.”

“That’s what you said last time. And last time, you blended carrots into the curry like some sort of root vegetable ninja.”

Lily looked between them and announced, “No cawwots.”

“See?” Zayne said, gesturing proudly to their child. “She gets it. It’s genetic.”

“Being dramatic is not genetic,” Miya sighed, ladling the golden soup into a small pink bowl for Lily and setting it in front of her.

Lily peered in, cautious. “Cawwot?”

“Nope!” Miya said brightly. “Just sunshine soup!”

Zayne’s eyes narrowed. “That sounds fake.”

“It’s a mood, Zayne.”

Ten minutes earlier…

Miya had pureed the carrots until they were a whisper of themselves. Ginger, garlic, turmeric—check. Coconut milk—check. Zayne’s tragic taste memory—hopefully not triggered.

Prince the kitten had tried to jump on the counter three times during the operation, while Baby watched from the windowsill like a disappointed older sibling.

“Stay down, Prince,” Miya warned, nudging him gently off the chair. He flopped dramatically, rolled, and pounced at a carrot peel on the floor.

“You’re not helping.”

Back to Dinner.

Lily took a careful spoonful, eyes locked on Miya. Her little face scrunched in deep, suspicious concentration.

Then she blinked. Licked her lips.

“…Yummy,” she declared.

Zayne looked betrayed.

“I taught her to trust her instincts,” he said solemnly. “This is how you ruin that.”

“She likes it,” Miya smirked. “Clearly not carrots.”

Zayne dipped his spoon in, cautiously. The texture was smooth. The flavor rich. His eyes narrowed.

“It’s creamy,” he said slowly.

“Thank you.”

“…Sweet.”

“A little.”

He squinted at her. “Miya.”

“Yes, love?”

“Is this a carrot-based crime?”

She smiled like someone who had just tricked a dragon into eating its own tail. “It’s not a crime if you both like it.”

“I’ve been bamboozled. Deceived. Betrayed by dinner.”

Lily, now holding up a piece of bread like a trophy, added, “No cawwots.”

Zayne gave his daughter a solemn nod. “Right. We don’t eat those.”

Miya blinked at the two of them, both full of soup, both still insisting there were no carrots in it.

“I swear you two would willingly eat carrot cake and say it was just orange bread.”

From under the table, a paw slapped the floor.

“Prince!” Miya gasped, rushing to save a tiny chunk of bread from the kitten’s jaws.

Too late. He proudly trotted away, tail high, like he’d just hunted it himself.

“Why does he steal carbs?” Zayne asked.

“Because Baby taught him,” Miya groaned. “She’s the brains, he’s the chaos.”

At that moment, Baby jumped up on the bench next to Zayne and flopped her head into his lap like royalty accepting tribute. Zayne automatically began scratching behind her ears.

“Traitor,” Miya said. “You’re all traitors.”

Later That Night

After Lily had been bathed and tucked into bed with a stuffed bunny in one arm and Prince curled at her feet, Zayne padded into the kitchen and wrapped his arms around Miya from behind as she rinsed the soup pot.

“You know,” he murmured, “I still hate carrots.”

She smirked. “Sure you do. Want me to pack some of that soup for your lunch tomorrow?”

“…Yes. But don’t label it.”

She laughed, leaning back into him. “Deal.”

He kissed her temple and whispered, “Just don’t try it with beets. That’s where I draw the line.”

Behind them, Baby sauntered by with a smug look that said: you’ll never win in this house.

End.

miya: @nezuswritingdesk

[moonlitconfessions]

First Beat of Us

A/N: THIS IS NOT RELATED TO MARRY MY HUSBAND!! this is just a headcannon for @nezuswritingdesk

Miya stood in front of the mirror, fingers gently pressing against her belly. It was still flat—barely any change—but she already felt the difference deep within. A flicker of life. Fragile. Real.

She turned slightly as the door clicked open.

Zayne stepped in quietly, the ever-serious doctor replaced by a gentler version of himself. His eyes dropped immediately to her, then to her abdomen, then back to her face.

"You’re still up?" he asked, voice low as if loud noises might somehow disturb the baby.

She smiled. “Just brushing my hair.”

He walked over and gently took the brush from her hands. “Let me.”

Miya closed her eyes as he slowly ran the brush through her hair, his movements patient and rhythmic.

“You didn’t drink the herbal tea I left on the table,” he murmured.

She chuckled. “It smelled like grass.”

“It’s good for nausea. And baby’s development.” He pressed a kiss to the crown of her head. “I ran the research myself.”

“Of course you did, Dr. Li.”

He hummed, placing the brush down. “Also… I’ve updated the entire apartment. No more scented candles, moved all the cleaning chemicals to the top shelf, and I switched our laundry detergent to a mild organic one.”

Miya blinked. “You did all that today?”

“And I changed your shampoo.” He winced. “I hope you didn’t notice. The one you used before had parabens.”

She burst into laughter, turning to him. “Zayne, I’m pregnant, not made of glass.”

“You’re carrying half of me,” he said seriously, his hands resting on her waist. “That means you get treated like you’re made of moonlight.”

Miya's smile softened. She could see it in his eyes—behind the calm demeanor, behind the logic—he was terrified of messing this up. Of losing either of them. The man who once dissected hearts in surgery now tiptoed around her, as if even her sighs could shatter.

She leaned into his chest. “I love how much you care.”

He wrapped his arms around her and rested his cheek on her head. “I’ve never cared about something this much, Miya. I just want to be prepared. First trimester’s delicate. So no spicy food, no caffeine, and—”

“I know, I know.” She tilted her face up and teased, “You gave me a pamphlet. And a color-coded folder. And a Google spreadsheet.”

Zayne flushed slightly, but she saw the smile tugging at his lips. “You left me no choice when you told me with a pee stick and confetti.”

She grinned. “It was festive.”

“It was chaos.”

“But you cried.”

He cleared his throat. “That was... allergies.”

She leaned in and kissed his jaw. “Zayne?”

“Mm?”

“Thank you. For loving us this much already.”

His arms tightened around her. “There’s no limit to how much I’ll love you both.”

Later that night, he lay beside her with one hand protectively over her stomach, as if guarding the life growing inside her even in sleep.

And in the silence, under the faint glow of the moonlight, Miya whispered, “You’re going to be an amazing father.”

Zayne didn’t respond right away—but the way he curled slightly closer, shielding her from the world, was answer enough.

End.

miya = @nezuswritingdesk

[moonlitconfessions]

Paging Dr. Daddy: Emergency Toddler Shift

It was just past 6:30 a.m. when Miya peeked out of the bathroom with a toothbrush in her mouth, a wrinkled forehead, and a phone in her hand.

“Zayne,” she called, voice muffled. “The babysitter’s out. Fever and vomiting.”

He blinked mid-sip of coffee. “You’ve got class today.”

“I’m giving a science quiz to thirty sixth graders who just discovered how to make vinegar bombs.”

“...I’ve got two valve replacements and three consults.”

From the hallway, the pitter-patter of soft feet interrupted them.

“Daddy?” Lily’s curly hair stuck up in every direction. Her bunny pajamas sagged at the knees.

Zayne picked her up and she immediately clung to him like a sleepy sloth.

“Hi, baby bean.”

“I don’t feel sick,” she mumbled. “But the kitty sneezed on me.”

Miya sighed. “That was Baby. She probably just sniffed the pepper shaker again.”

Zayne looked from Miya to Lily.

“…Guess it’s Bring Your Daughter to Work Day.”

7:50 a.m. – Akso Hospital

“Dr. Li,” said the charge nurse, barely hiding her grin as Zayne strolled in wearing his white coat—with a dinosaur-backpack-toting toddler walking beside him, holding his hand.

“She’s shadowing me today,” he said deadpan.

Lily waved. “Hi. I’m Lily. I like stickers and no carrots.”

Nurse Hana choked on her coffee. “Noted.”

Zayne set her up in his office, loading her iPad with toddler-friendly educational videos (the same ones Miya used in her classroom), a coloring book, her juice box, and one very tattered plush bunny.

Lily tapped the screen and looked up. “Where’s Prince?”

“At home guarding Mommy,” Zayne said, kneeling beside her. “Today, you’re with Daddy in the big hospital.”

“Will we see hearts?”

“…In a way.”

10:15 a.m. – Miya’s Classroom

Between giving instructions and keeping Johnny from turning his quiz into a paper airplane, Miya texted:

how’s the chaos?

Zayne sent a photo of Lily sitting in a breakroom chair with a stethoscope around her neck, looking very serious next to a resident who was trying not to giggle.

Lily is now “Dr. Li Jr.” She just told an intern to “hydrate or perish.” That was you, wasn’t it?

Miya smiled mid-grading.

absolutely. teach her young.

12:30 p.m. – Lunch Break

Zayne managed to steal away for lunch and sat on the floor with Lily in his office, eating sandwiches (hers crustless, his barely warm).

She held up a carrot stick suspiciously. “Daddy. This is orange.”

“It is. And we agreed on a truce today, remember?”

“I don’t eat orange.” She tossed it into the trash like it had personally offended her.

He muttered, “Your mother’s going to sneak it in a smoothie again, I just know it.”

Lily looked smug. “I know her tricks.”

They both nodded solemnly. War veterans in the Carrot Conflict.

2:45 p.m. – Hallway Chaos

Dr. Zayne Li had performed an entire valve replacement that morning. He’d comforted a panicking family. He’d handled two code blues.

But nothing humbled him like trying to keep a toddler from pressing every elevator button while holding a juice box upside-down.

“Lily—don’t—yep, okay. Juice on the floor. We’re leaving a sticky trail. Great.”

“Is it glittery?” she asked.

“It’s… bacteria glitter.”

A nurse wheeled by with a smirk. “You doing alright there, Daddy?”

Zayne deadpanned. “Why did I go through twelve years of med school if I can’t outsmart someone under three feet tall?”

Lily flashed him a grin.

“Because you needed a boss.”

3:30 p.m. – Back at Home

By the time Miya got home, her bag slung over her shoulder and a half-graded stack of quizzes in hand, she was met by a peculiar sight.

Zayne, lying face-down on the couch.

Lily, napping on top of him like a warm, jelly-limbed koala.

Prince was curled at the foot of the couch, purring. Baby eyed them all from her cat tower like a skeptical queen.

Miya tiptoed closer, kissing Zayne on the head. “I heard Dr. Li Jr. handled your schedule today.”

He peeked one eye open. “She made my residents do jumping jacks. Said it was for ‘mental stimulation.’”

Miya grinned and gently lifted Lily into her arms. “You survived.”

“Barely. She threatened to cancel my coffee if I didn’t say please.”

“She is my daughter.”

Later That Night

Bathtime involved Lily trying to give Prince a shampoo he didn’t ask for. Baby escaped to the closet.

Zayne and Miya finally got her into bed after three stories and a negotiation that resembled peace talks.

When she was finally asleep, Zayne wrapped his arms around Miya in the kitchen.

“You know,” he murmured, “she asked if she could wear a white coat like mine.”

Miya smiled against his chest. “She already acts like your boss. Makes sense.”

Zayne rested his chin on her head. “Tomorrow… maybe we all stay home. You, me, Lily, the cats. No alarms. No surgeries. No glittery juice.”

“No carrots?”

“Absolutely none.”

Miya grinned. “It’s a deal.”

-------

miya - @nezuswritingdesk

[moonlitconfessions]

Baby honey zayne love why are you disappointed that im know my period🥺

Not gonna say anything hmmph😑

[moonlitconfessions]

Zayne carrying baby Lily on his hips make me go feral💖🥰🥰😳🥰💖 - miya

U said you were on ur period….doesent that mean ur in your follicular phase? During this phase, the pituitary gland releases follicle-stimulating hormone (FSH), which stimulates the growth of follicles in the ovaries.

Which leads to ovulation🤨🧐