otp: are you pregnant

What was my fav part of King’s Cage you ask?

Well, it might have been all the times Mare spit on people and chapter 22 and 25.

JK it was totally that time that Mare and Cal worked together to smash Samson merandus head into the pavement of Caesar Square like it was a melon. That just *wipes away a proud tear* that just really did it for me.

The Doctor: You’ve swallowed a planet.
Amy: I’m pregnant.
The Doctor: You’re huge.
Amy: Yeah, I’m pregnant.
The Doctor: Look at you! When world’s collide.
Amy: Doctor, I’m pregnant.
The Doctor: Oh, look at you both! Five years later and you haven’t changed a bit. Apart from age and… size.
Amy: Oh it’s good to see you Doctor. 
The Doctor: Are you pregnant? 

card-master-twisted-fate  asked:

This was quite an unusual situation: Fate approaching Caitlyn in broad daylight. But there were a lot of extenuating circumstances. Most noticeably of all, his smug, jackass grin was absent. He walked right up to Caitlyn and said in a serious voice "I think we need to have a talk."

To say Caitlyn was surprised would be an understatement. She was curious more than anything, but furrowed her brows and glanced about before bringing her gaze back to him.

“About your nerve?” She curled her gloved hand into a fist. He had to be a distraction for something, otherwise he wouldn’t be so cocky as to think he couldn’t be arrested at any given moment.

Quickening, part 4

(This series is set during Amelia’s 5th month of pregnancy – and possibly a bit beyond. Each story can stand alone, but you can also read Part 1, Part 2, and Part 3. – All the feelings for this one. Just all of them.)

silken layers

pressed tightly

enfolding each other

in darkness

holding secrets

of infinite beauty

ready to open


longing to feel

the sun


Owen loved to watch Amelia sleep. His eyes could live forever in her hair spilled on her pillow, in her lashes resting against her cheeks. Her face was peaceful, except when she dreamed of darkness. This time there was only light.

They had fallen asleep with the sheets off and stayed that way all night. This July was unusually warm. Owen watched the gentle rise and fall of her chest. He delighted at the changes that pregnancy was bringing to her body, and thrilled knowing that he played a part in that.

He reached out with a fingertip and touched the curve of her breast, fair and soft and filled with a thousand secrets. He traced the path of a vein that brought life to where their baby would be nourished, caressing all the way to the tip where it vanished into the depths of her. He wanted to linger there, but he didn’t want to wake her. Reluctantly, he rested his hand on the sheets between them.

“Do it again,” Amelia whispered with her eyes still closed.

Owen followed the same curving path. This time he stayed where the vein disappeared. He moved his thumb back and forth there, stroking her gently. Shocks of sensation radiated to every part of her, carrying pleasure on their waves.

“I love waking up this way,” she murmured.

“I love your breasts.” His voice came out deep and full of ardor. He hardly recognized it.

“Of course you do,” she smiled, “Because they’ve grown.”

She opened her eyes to watch his cheeks flush in the early morning sun.

“It’s not that… I mean… yes they have…” he stumbled over the words, “But I always love them. I love every part of you.”

“Good recovery,” she encouraged, covering the back of his hand with hers, “…Do it again.”

He sent the waves over and over until her body ached for more of him. And he gave her more. They spent the hour opening, unfolding secrets in the sunrise.


The second time Owen woke that morning, he could feel the sun shining in the room but he wasn’t ready to open his eyes. Amelia ran her fingers lightly through his hair and brushed her lips against his forehead.

“Just sleep,” she whispered, “I’m going to Meredith’s. Rest now, and I’ll see you later.”

He felt the light dim as she closed the blinds, and he heard her say, “I love you,” before sleep claimed him again.

She closed the door quietly and stepped out into the yard to clip flowers for Zola. The roses were what Amelia loved most about this house. She thought of the day Owen showed it to her for the first time.

They were barely together then. He hadn’t even told her yet that he loved her. She was still afraid to admit that she loved him. They had no commitment, but he bought them a house. Well, technically he bought himself a house, but she knew it was for them. Standing with him in the yard that first day, she knew.

Amelia remembered…


“It’s much bigger than a trailer,” she pointed out, “You’ll have plenty of space.”

“There are 4 bedrooms,” he mentioned casually, like it was of no greater significance than the cream colored walls.

“What are you going to fill them with?”

Owen answered slowly, but without hesitation, “A family… I hope… someday.”

He knew what he wanted, and he wanted her to know it.

A summer breeze swept up just then, and the fragrance of roses was everywhere. It seeped into Amelia’s pores and made her dream.

“Why am I here?” She looked into his eyes.

He hesitated for a moment, but answered unafraid, “I think you know.”

Suddenly the roses were easier to look at, because everything else was too bright. Amelia gazed at them for a moment that felt like eternity.

“Would you like to see inside?” he asked.

She stepped forward, and he followed. The door creaked as Amelia opened it.

“This house has secrets,” Owen said.

Amelia found her voice again, “Maybe it wants to share its secrets with you because it wants you here.”

He pointed to her hand on the door knob. “The house is sharing them with you.”

“I’m not sure why it would tell me its secrets. I’m terrible at keeping them. My limited filter and all.”

“Maybe that’s why it wants to tell you. Sharing secrets brings people in and makes us feel less alone. This house seems lonely.”

They stepped in the doorway, and the roses came with them on the breeze. Amelia breathed them in and she knew. Right then she knew. Forever would be this way. Right here.

“I have a secret,” she said to the room. 

Owen could tell the secret wasn’t for him - not yet. But he asked anyway, “What is it?”

“I think I’ll go inside and tell the house. Then the house can tell you when the time is right.”

He stayed in the doorway and watched her cross the room. “So you think I should buy it then?”

Her answer echoed off the empty walls and filled his heart. “Yes.”

She turned to him and held out her hand. “Come with me…”


Amelia walked away from the yard with roses in her hands that day, and today, for Zola. Bringing them to her niece had become a tradition whenever they were in bloom.

Zola always filled a plastic pitcher with water and placed the roses in it by the windows in the family room. “They need the sun,” she said, “so the buds can open.”

Zola understood things.

Late morning was full of the voices of the children. They wore Amelia out. She didn’t have much energy today – this whole week actually. She was grateful when Meredith called for nap time for Bailey and Ellis.

“I don’t want a nap. I’m not tired!” Bailey yawned.

Meredith reminded him, “You don’t have to sleep. Reading books on your bed is good too. Then your body will be rested for more fun later.”

Bailey always protested, and then he slept.

Amelia empathized, “I’m going to go home to take a nap too, Bay. And if I can’t fall asleep, then I’ll read a book. That’s a great idea. You’re such a smart boy - like your Dad was.”

Amelia’s eyes met Meredith’s. Her gaze was returned with a soft, wistful smile. Bailey jumped up on the couch where Amelia sat. He wrapped his sweet little arms around her neck and hugged her tight. “Love you,” he said, clinging to her.

Amelia’s heart melted.

“Will you carry me to my room?”

It had been many months since he had asked her, and she hated to say no. But she thought of her butterfly. “You’re such a big boy now, too big for me to pick you up anymore I think. But I can walk with you if you’d like.”

He nodded into her neck. Amelia took Bailey’s hand and walked him to his bedroom where they blew kisses goodbye.

While Meredith was getting Ellis settled, Amelia returned to the couch to sit for a while with Zola, who was reading too. This was the regular weekend routine. For a widowed mother with three young children, routine was helpful.

“Aunt Amy,” Zola asked, “Will you read me a story before you go?”

“Of course, big girl, which one shall we read today?”

Zola chose a book and scooted close to Amelia, resting her head on her shoulder. Amelia wrapped one arm around her, held the book with the other, and read the title, “’Love You Forever’. This one makes me cry.”

“It’s good to cry,” her niece told her, “Sadness comes out your tears, and then you feel better – sometimes.”

Amelia read, letting her tears flow when they needed to. Meredith returned for the last two pages.

“…When the son came home that night, he stood for a long time at the top of the stairs. Then he went into the room where his very new baby daughter was sleeping. He picked her up in his arms and very slowly rocked her back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. And while he rocked her he sang:

I’ll love you forever,
I’ll like you for always,
As long as I’m living
my baby you’ll be.”

“The end,” Amelia whispered as she closed the book and laid it in her lap.

Zola reached out toward the book as if to take it, but then laid her hand on top of it near Amelia’s stomach. “Aunt Amy, are you going to have a baby?”

Amelia answered cautiously. “…Someday, Zo.”


Zola was so earnest and open. Amelia wanted to be honest with her, but she was afraid. She glanced up at Meredith still standing in the doorway. Meredith understood things too. She nodded, just once, but it was enough to make Amelia feel brave.

She took a deep breath, and let it out with her answer. “Before Christmas I hope – if everything goes well.”

Meredith’s wistful smile returned. Amelia mirrored her expression and shook her head in affirmation.

“Will the baby have a daddy?” Zola wondered aloud.

Amelia grieved for a moment that a 6-year-old would know to ask such a question. She had been that 6-year-old once too. “The baby’s daddy is Owen.”

Zola sighed, “It’s nice to have a daddy.”

Silent tears streamed down Meredith’s cheeks. She let them fall without wiping them away. She breathed into them.

Zola asked, “You said you’d have a baby before Christmas if everything goes well, but what if it doesn’t?”

Amelia thought for a moment about how to explain it. Her niece didn’t need any more grief. “You know our roses?”

Zola turned her gaze to them.

Amelia continued, “Sometimes roses bloom and other times they stay inside their buds, and nobody knows why exactly. You give them sunshine and water, but sometimes they’re just not meant to be. And it’s sad when you’ve been waiting for them. But it happens at times. And it can happen like that with babies too.”

Zola sighed as she moved her hand from the book and rested it on Amelia’s stomach. The baby fluttered, and Zola looked into Amelia’s eyes, “Aunt Amy… I hope your baby blooms.”

“Me too, big girl.” Amelia let Zola see her smile - and her tears. “Can I tell you a secret? You and your mom are the first people I’ve told about the baby besides Owen and my doctor. We’ll be telling more people soon, but maybe for the next week or so it can be our secret if your mom agrees?”

Zola looked to Meredith.

“It’s okay,” Meredith approved.

“When the secret is done, can I tell Sofia?”

“I would be honored for you to tell Sofia,” Amelia said.

The baby moved within her again, tapping out stories with silken wings.


Secrets can make us feel powerful. Knowing something that no one else knows can give the illusion of control. But secrets held tightly for too long can eat us alive. The thing to remember about secrets is that they want to be told. They want to be revealed so badly that sometimes they whisper themselves. And occasionally they shout loud enough for the world to stop and listen. Infinite beauty and darkness can only wait so long before they unfold.

Pet Peeves - Are You Pregnant?

I’ve never been pregnant or seriously mistaken for pregnant so I’m not saying this out of a place of seething anger, but the fact is that no one needs to know. If you ask a woman if she’s pregnant and she is…then what? “Oh, congratulations!” I’m sure she’s happy about it on her own and doesn’t need to be congratulated by a stranger and if the pregnancy is difficult she may be reduced to tears or otherwise bummed out.

Maybe you want to offer advice. Why? If she wants advice on her pregnancy, she’s going to ask people like her mother, aunts, any sisters who have had children, her grandmother, her friends, her doctor, the internet, or pregnancy books. She doesn’t need some stranger randomly offering advice on child-rearing or pregnancy. I’ve heard the conversation and it always goes like this:

Person: “Are you pregnant?”
Woman: “Why yes, yes I am!”
Person: “When are you due?”

Woman: “[date]”

Person: “Is this your first?”

Woman: “[answer]”

Person: “Yeah, I have kids. [stupid story no one cares about]. Well, congratulations on your pregnancy and good luck!”

Sure, they may ask shit like, “What will you name it?” and “Do you know the baby’s sex?” but why do you care? Seriously. I’ve never been pregnant but if it ever happens I expect to be pretty tired all the time and maybe my feet/back will hurt. The last thing I need is 10,000 strangers asking me the same series of questions at every turn. 

Someone else being pregnant, especially a stranger, is not your business in any way at all. You don’t need to know ask if she’s pregnant. You just want to know because you’re nosy as hell and instead of getting a hobby or thinking about things for the day you instead shove your shit into the business of strangers. I don’t give two shits if someone is pregnant unless I’m having to help her deliver a baby that won’t wait for a better time to come out. Otherwise, I don’t have special Pregnancy Sprinkles to hand to her to make her day. It’s just mindless small talk from people who have nothing better going on for them that day and have no idea how to busy themselves.

Quickening, part 3

(This series is set during Amelia’s 5th month of pregnancy – and possibly a bit beyond. Each story can stand alone, but you can also read Part 1 here and Part 2 here. The joy of writing about Callie and Owen’s friendship in this one just about killed me. It took 6 years for me to see the absolute beauty that is Owen Hunt. Now that I see it, I can’t unsee it. And it haunts me. I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it.)

Neurons that correlate with pain and pleasure coexist in the orbitofrontal cortex of the brain. Pleasure and pain share the same pathways. Ordinary stimuli, like food or sex, can trigger the release of morphine-like neurotransmitters which can bring pleasure and reduce pain. When you remove the stimulus, the opioid release stops. Then the pain sets in.

When Owen banged his knee in the supply closet, he hardly noticed pain in the moment. He and Amelia lay there on the floor afterward. She touched his chest lightly as she kissed him. He loved her kisses after, when everything is soft and the world is quiet because a drumming pulse muffles other sounds. He loved her kisses always. He couldn’t tell anymore where he ended and she began. He was just content to be part of her, giving her everything she wished for.

Over the last couple of weeks, Amelia had made many - wishes. Pregnancy was her latest superpower. And, frankly, Owen’s body was exhausted. His knee twinged as he stood up to search for their clothes. He winced in pain.

“Hey. Are you all right?” she worried, rising to stand beside him.

He answered with a half-truth, “My knee is a little sore.” - Actually, his knee was a lot sore. - “It’s pretty cramped in here. I think I just need to stretch it out. I’ll be fine.”

He held her waist with one hand, drawing circles on the side of her belly with his thumb. His other hand caressed the back of her neck.

“Thank you for… lunch,” she whispered, “I don’t think I could have waited until later.”

“Lunch was… delicious,” he agreed, kissing her once more before pulling away. His hand in her hair was the last part of him in her. He didn’t want to leave, but duty called for both of them. Regrettably, he let go and handed Amelia her clothes.


The afternoon grew long, and Owen’s knee began to throb. He approached Callie by the Ortho nurses’ station and kept his voice low.

“Hey, Torres,” he began casually, “Do you have a moment to take a look at my knee? It’s bothering me a bit.”

“Sure,” she looked wary, “Why are we whispering?”

Owen cleared his throat and intentionally spoke louder, “No particular reason. Only if you have the time. It’s no problem either way.”

Callie watched him grimace slightly as he said it. He was clearly in pain, and trying to act indifferently about it.

“Let’s take a look,” she motioned for him to step into an empty exam room, and she closed the door behind them.

Owen sat on the exam bed and rolled up his pant leg. Callie didn’t even need to look closely to see that his knee was bruised and swollen.

“Ouch! What happened?”

“Just some minor trauma. No big deal… hopefully,” he said evasively.

“I need to see your other knee to better judge the amount of swelling.”

When Owen rolled up the other pant leg, Callie could see that his other knee was bruised as well, though not swollen.

“Lie down, and let’s see how bad this is,” she directed him.

Callie lightly manipulated his sore knee. She stopped when he flinched.

“Okay, Hunt, sit up. I need to know the nature of the injury in order to make a proper diagnosis. So you might as well come out with it.”

Having little choice in the matter, Owen finally confessed, “I banged my knee while having sex with Amelia in the supply closet.”

Callie tried unsuccessfully to restrain her smile, “Ah. So you banged your knee while you were banging Amelia?”

He blushed at her dry humor. “Kind of… Yeah.”

“So what about the bruise on your other knee?”

“Uh, to be honest…” he dropped his voice again, “We’ve been having a lot of sex recently… in a lot of places… hard places.”

Callie didn’t even try to suppress her laughter this time, “So Amelia’s fucking the life out of you?”

“Basically. Yes. My knee feels like that anyway.”

“So why don’t you guys just take a week off and rest?

Owen hesitated before answering. “It’s just that I want to give her everything… right now. Anything she wants.”

“Right now?” Callie was intrigued.

Owen took a deep breath and ran his fingers through his hair. He looked down at the floor and then back up at Callie. She didn’t know about Amelia’s pregnancy. Nobody knew.

“Owen, what’s going on?” she asked with care. Her laughter and sarcasm were gone. She sat down next to him and turned to face him.

“You have to promise to not say a word, Callie.”

“You can always confide in me. You know that. Not to mention the fact that I just examined your injured knee so now we have that whole doctor-patient privilege thing going on,” she reassured him.

He looked at her – waiting.

“I promise,” she added.

“Amelia is… pregnant.” It was the first time Owen had spoken the words, and he thrilled to hear them.

Callie’s eyes opened big and her face brightened, “Owen, this is huge.”

“It is. Yes.” Joy washed over him.

Callie’s eyes filled with tears. She reached out and squeezed his arm. “You’ve waited so long for this.”

Owen placed his hand atop hers. He didn’t trust his voice to speak at that particular moment, so he simply nodded.

“How long have you known?” she wondered.

Owen cleared the emotion from his throat, “A while actually - about 4 months.”

“4 months! How did I not know about this?”

“We haven’t told anyone yet. Amelia has been having prenatal appointments with an OB over at Northwest Hospital. She wants to wait until after the 20-week ultrasound before sharing the news. Just to be sure… in case… you know.”

Callie did know. She’d lost a baby too, through Arizona’s miscarriage. She still winced at the memory and what it had done to them, “I understand.”

“I think Amelia hardly believed about the pregnancy until she felt the baby move, but she’s coming around now. Last week I actually found her singing to the baby and making cookies… Though please don’t tell her I told you that last part! I’d never hear the end of it.”

It warmed Callie’s heart to picture feisty Amelia Shepherd singing and baking. “Doctor-patient privilege,” she reminded him, “Your secret’s safe with me. How are you doing with all this?”

“I’m overwhelmed, Callie… I’m thrilled, and I worry. I hope the baby will be all right. I worry about Amelia – especially when I think about her first pregnancy. I love her so much. I want this so much for us. I’ve been trying not to show too much worry or excitement. I don’t want to make it any harder for her if… if something’s wrong.”

“Owen, you really should talk to her. She needs to hear your concerns. She needs to hear your excitement. Wondering how a person might be feeling can be harder than actually just knowing. So talk to her. It will help you both… And it will help your knees,” she added a smile.

“Thanks, Callie.” It felt good to unload some of the burden he’d been feeling.

“By the way, I’m pretty sure you have a bruised meniscus, but we can get an MRI just to be certain. Be sure to take it easy. …And have sex only in bed for a while. No hard surfaces. Doctor’s orders,” she winked.

“I think I can manage that.”

“By the way, Owen. I’m so happy you’re going to be a dad.”

“I am too,” he exhaled. He hadn’t even realized he’d been holding his breath. “That’s the first time anyone has said it like that.”

“Like what?”

“Out loud.”


Amelia arrived home that night to find Owen lying on the couch with his leg propped up on a pillow and an ice pack on his knee.

“Hey…” she said softly. Her brow furrowed as she moved toward him. Concern always seemed to make her eyes appear even more blue.

“Apparently I hit my knee harder than I thought. I guess you can call it an overuse injury from repetitive trauma,” Owen joked to ease the tension.

Amelia kneeled on the floor beside him. She lifted the ice pack carefully to assess his injury. She stifled a gasp when she saw the swelling. “Owen…”

“It’s just a bruised meniscus. Callie diagnosed it.”

Amelia reapplied the ice pack and touched his leg tenderly above and below his knee. She delicately massaged the muscles in his calf and thigh. The pleasure of her hands helped ease the pain.

She cursed herself for luring him into that closet to begin with. “I’m sorry…” she apologized.

“Hey…” He stilled her hand on his thigh and took it gently in his. “I’m not sorry.”

His thumb played over her knuckles. Owen closed his eyes and breathed in deeply. His breath came out shaky as he released it. He felt the weight of unspoken conversation between them.

Amelia could feel it too. They remained silent for a time, holding hands.

She spoke first, “Owen, you can talk to me. I just want you to know, you can talk to me.”

He smiled as he remembered saying those same words to her once. She had talked to him then. And he would talk to her now.

“Amelia, I told Callie about the baby.”

“Okay,” she said simply, not wanting to press him. She just wanted him to know she was listening.

“Confidentially, of course. She promised to keep our secret until we’re ready to tell everyone else, and I trust her.”

“I trust her too,” Amelia agreed.

Her hand moved unconsciously to the slight rounding of her stomach. She had felt the baby flutter more regularly this week, and she was feeling her now.

“Besides,” she added, I can’t keep our butterfly a secret much longer. She’s making her presence known more every day. And the 20-week ultrasound will happen soon.”

“About that, Amelia…” Owen took another deep breath. “You know I’m here for you. I’m all in, forever, no matter what.”

“I know.”

“I want you to know how I’m feeling.”

“Tell me.”

He held her hand tight. “Our baby is the biggest miracle of my life, Amelia. I’m excited as anything, and I’m scared as hell.”

“I know.” Amelia moved closer. She ran her fingers through his hair. Their joined hands moved together to rest on his chest.

“Your stoicism hasn’t fooled me, Owen. I know you. I know you like I’ve never known anyone. I feel what you’re feeling. You feel so deeply. It’s just easier when you talk to me. I’m glad you told me.”

She kissed him as delicately as she had touched his calf and his thigh, afraid of breaking him further.

“I am too,” he said as he wrapped his arms around her. He pulled her on top of him, and delicate was forgotten.

She curled up in the warmth of him, still aware of his knee. “So what did Dr. Torres recommend for your recovery?”

“She advised me to have sex in bed for a while. No floors or tables or showers or closets. Just in bed.”

Amelia laughed, “So ‘sex in bed’ was the official prescription?”

“Doctor’s orders.”

“It would be like therapy. Really.”


“So, when shall we get started on this therapy of yours.”

“How about… later,” he said, closing his eyes.

“Later would be perfect.”

She listened to his heartbeat as he fell asleep.