as a writer you will have a specific deck of vocab words you like using a lot and when you read other peoples' work you will see a very clear spread of different vocab words on their end. this is why you need to read, to collect other writers' words like it's a card game
give a woman some guy and she'll be entertained for a day. teach a woman how to put some guy in situations and she'll be entertained for the rest of her life.
don't ever look up what your childhood friends are up to now!!!!!!!!!! like girl you're a nuclear safety engineer. i put on matching socks today. we played tag a thousand years ago.
it's really cute how grace says "rocky couldn't have made a mistake! he's the most talented engineer on his whole planet!" ryland you do not know that. it's very sweet of you but you, very notably, have only met one eridian and it is your best friend rocky. you are very biased
Hiii! Can I request a cryptic pregnancy with brendon. It's up to you if they're already married or not. Thanks xoxo
Cryptic | Brendon Park | The Pitt
Doctors liked to be in control. Pretty much every nurse can testify to that fact. For some doctors, that control was only needed in the workplace, and their personal lives were a mess (think Michael Rabinovitch), and others needed control in all aspects of their life, personal and professional. Surgeons tended to fall into the second category.
Brendon park definitively belonged in the second category.
His apartment was immaculate. His medical journals were organised alphabetically by author, and then chronologically if he had multiple editions. His wardrobe was organised by season, style, cut then colour. And his kitchen could make a chef cry. Everything had a place, and everything was how it should be.
At least until you moved in.
You were the second kind of doctor. Your work as a cardiothoracic surgeon was unmatched, and both your operating room and office were immaculately organised. Outside of the hospital was another story.
Your car had at least four jumpers, and three pairs of shoes in it. Your wardrobe was a series of clothes shoved onto hangers and into drawers, and your cupboard in the kitchen would also make a chef cry, although these would be tears of frustration.
But that didn't matter, because Brendon could live with that if it meant having you. Besides, the biggest thing Brendon, and most doctors, hated were surprises. Surprises meant not knowing what was around the corner, and if you had a surprise in surgery it never meant anything good.
Brendon didn't think there was anything that could be a good surprise.
Until today.
You had stayed home sick. Brendon had pretty much demanded it.
"No, baby. You are not going in today." he had said, feeling your forehead to see if you were running a fever. Thankfully you weren't. But your stomach pain, and the fact your dinner last night didn't look great, led him to his diagnosis of gastroenteritis. "You'll be feeling better tonight, I promise."
He kissed your forehead and then went to work. The first surprise came an hour later when you called him, begging him to come home because something was definitely wrong.
Brendon was usually a big believer in speed limits, but he made that twenty minute drive in only twelve. You never called him at work, and you had never sounded so distressed. Not when you broke you leg, or even the day when you lost three patients on your table. Never.
The house was sickeningly quiet when he came barrelling through the front door. When you were home, you were never quiet. Even when you were sick you always had the radio going, or the tv playing those awful sitcoms Brendon hated. Oh how he wished he heard one of those stupid shows right now.
"Baby?" He called, making his way quickly through the apartment. "Where are you?"
He heard a muffled cry from the bathroom and before he could even think, he was sprinting towards the sound. He swung the door open with much more force than needed, and probably splintered the wood, but that would be a problem for later.
Immediately, he was scanning you over. You looked hot, sweaty and dishevelled, as if you had ran a marathon. You were violently shaking, and he could see the blood dripping down your legs and onto the tile.
"Bren," You say, voice tired with something that Brendon can't place. He watches as you clutch the towel you were holding even tighter, "Baby."
He moves towards you, trying to take the towel away so he can get a proper look at you, but you only clutched it towards you tighter.
"Bren," you try again, forcing your voice to be a little clearer. "I had a baby."
"What?"
Instead of responding, you shift the towel slightly, so Brendon could have a better look inside, only to be met with a copy of his eyes looking back up at him.
He sets his weight down softly next to you, wrapping one arm around you and another around his new-born.
"A baby? I didn't- I didn't know you were- Did you know?" He asks, fighting to form a full sentence. Despite all his fancy degrees, and his years of helping patients, he couldn't comprehend how this could have happened.
Yes he knew about cryptic pregnancies, but to have his own child born that way, it was hard to grasp. You both had missed out on so much, no ob/gyn appointments, no finding out the gender, no baby shopping, no decorating the nursery. You had missed all of it.
Although, looking at the little eyes and tiny nose of his baby, he couldn't bring himself to mind it at all. Many of his colleagues told him about how the world changes when you become a parent, and Brendon didn't believe it. He didn't so change, and he didn't do surprises. Up until now, his life had been entirely in his control.
He had known he was a father for less than two minutes, and yet he couldn't imagine it any other way.
"Come on, baby," he said, pulling away slightly so he could fish his phone out of his scrubs pocket. "I'm going to call an ambulance, and get you both up the hospital. Get you checked out."
You just nod, thankful that you did not need to think for yourself right now. After all the events from today, you were more than happy to relinquish control to Brendon. And Brendon was happy to take it.
