#I'm so tired of having to restrict my diet to find out what's wrong with my gut

[inkbotkowalski]

I have to fast for a SIBO breath test tomorrow, and let me tell you.

Testosterone doesn't turn you into a mindless rage monster. Being hungry, on the other hand…

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

AHHH hii angel thank you so much for responding to my last request, it was more than perfect!! 💗

idk if you'd do this because it's a very sensitive topic and i don't want to make you feel uncomfortable but i need a little bit of comfort and reassurance since my bday is in like an hour hehe.. but can i have a bucky with a reader who's attempting to lose weight by dieting and working out but it kinda goes downhill (i think you know what I'm hinting at), and she's like a bit insecure and compares herself to models. and bucky finds out and helps her.. and just a bit angsty but turns out very fluffy with cuddles and stuff. you absolutely don't have to write this request if it's too overwhelming, lot's of love, take care! 💗💗💗💗

- 🦢

my love hi!! you’re more than welcome, glad you liked it!! happy belated birthday, hope you had a great day!! I love stuff like this so it’s no problem. sending love, hope you’re well. thanks for requesting, hope you like it💌

SMALL CHANGES.

bucky barnes x fem!reader — angst & comfort

word count. 1073

warnings. potentially triggering content? mentions of dieting and working out. might be a hard read for some?

Comparison is the thief of joy. 

It's something you've always struggled with, the endless questioning of yourself, picking yourself apart in ways you believe you don't fit in. It's an easy habit to slip into but a difficult one to break out of. 

As of late, those feelings resurfaced - finding more and more 'faults' when you put yourself up against others. Models. It was as if you got sucked into a spiral of scrolling through images and doubting yourself, all of it leading to you curled up crying in bed. Always. 

No matter how upset you'd be, you'd still find yourself swiping up to see more - feeding that little gremlin in your mind. 

And after a little while, you decided you wanted to do something about those feelings - granted the reasoning behind it wasn't coming from a good place, but you'd be bettering yourself, and that's what you originally wanted.

So you changed your routine: waking up before six, secretly squeezing in an hour workout before joining Bucky on his morning runs, coming back home to have breakfast —an apple— then going about your day only to workout again once you get home. 

You thought food was the enemy, so you restricted yourself with crazy diets and regimes you hear about in Hollywood. You tried a water cleanse, a juice cleanse, keto, even fasting, but no matter how hard you thought you tried, your efforts would not be enough for what you wanted.

All it left you feeling was tired and crappy. No matter how much you hated your body, your body hated you more for what you were doing to it.

You thought you were being sneaky and secretive in the way you were going about it, but you couldn't be more wrong. Bucky, your boyfriend, knew something was running rampant in your mind: every dismissal of a snack you previously loved, every time he watched you dodge a mirror —or on the contrast of seeing you stare too long in one— all of it only confirming what he had hoped not to be true.

It's a sensitive topic, especially to bring up to a loved one. Bucky knew you weren't going to be forthcoming, so he wanted to take the first step.

You were in your shared bedroom, sorting through your dresser to find a clean pair of workout clothes - all of your others drenched in sweat from your previous workouts. 

"Hey, honey?" Bucky calls out, knocking on the ajar door. 

You turn around to see his sweet face, your own almost embarrassed from being caught. "Yeah?" 

"It's almost dinnertime. What do you say about going to that restaurant downtown? The one you love?" he asks, trying to scope you out.

"I have some stuff in the fridge. I bought a bunch of kale that needs eating before it goes bad," you reply, turning away, redirecting your focus to the clothes in your drawer.

Bucky leaves his spot in the doorframe, instead walking over to take a seat at the foot of the bed - behind from where you stand. "That's not food," he softly shakes his head. "Rabbits eat that. Let's get something good. What about a chicken sandwich? Pizza?"

"It is food," you reply. "Put on some pepper and olive oil, then bake it— it's good," you add, trying to convince him and yourself. 

He faintly sighs, resting his elbows on his knees. "No one likes kale."

"Maybe you're not cooking it right," you playfully protest, trying to distract him. 

"No, I cook it right," he stands up, walking to stand beside you. "We haven't gone out to eat for a while. I miss spending time with you like that."

You missed it too - far more than you'd ever anticipate. But you didn't want to slip up again. You already had a few times this week and you didn't want to make a habit of it. 

"I do, too, but I already ate. Maybe in the week?"

"What did you have?" he asks, craning his neck to look at your face.

You hesitate, not having an answer. "I can't remember."

He exhales weakly, your unknown confirmation making his heart sink. His hand reaches for yours, the act like he was pulling your attention back to him. "That means you haven't eaten," he utters, his tone soft - the meaning behind his words almost scolding. 

You feel cornered, and once again, you have no answer for him. 

His grip tightens, gently turning you back to him. "You need to eat, honey. Your body needs it... I know what you've been doing."

After hearing something you didn't want to, your stomach drops. Bucky knew.

"I should've said something when I noticed it," he shakes his head, feeling at fault. "You know you can't keep doing what you're doing?"

You nod meekly, avoiding his eyes. You did know that what you were doing was unhealthy, but you wanted to be like them. If they can do it, why can't you?

"Why have you been doing it?" he asks faintly, cocking his neck to meet your gaze.

"Are you telling me off?"

He's quick to shake his head, denying it almost instantly - both his palms reaching to cup your face. "God, no," his soft eyes bore into yours. "Of course not, honey. Never," he reassures, thumbs grazing over your cheeks. "I just want you to look after yourself."

"I do," you hesitate a response, the words delicate - almost inaudible.

"You don't," he mumbles. "The working out, not eating? You're hurting yourself," he pauses. "If you want to change, I can help you. But we'll do it the right way, okay? None of what you've been doing."

All you can do is nod, silently acknowledging your accidental wrongdoings.

"Just small changes," he leans in, pressing a kiss to your lips. "That's all you need, okay?"

"Okay," you faintly smile, agreeing to the help. 

"So," he starts, removing the placement on the sides of your face. "We're going to go out for dinner. And you're going to order whatever you want— whatever it is you've been wanting to eat," he pauses, noticing the hesitancy in your expression. "And we're going to order water instead of wine. Small changes."

The thought of ordering a meal you've restricted yourself from is enough to make your smile genuine. The idea of having your lover's support making it all that much easier.

[pineappleciders]

sp main 4 with a reader who has an eating disorder; platonic headcanons

includes: stan, kyle, cartman, and kenny

A/N: kyles and kennys look so much longer than the rest oops LOL, also the ed is restrictive n implied as anorexia but others could fit it too 🤫

stan marsh

he notices when you don't eat your lunch, and how you tend to leave after meals. he doesn't think it's weird though, acknowledging that it's normal to have something not agree with your stomach or just not being hungry.

but, it started to worry him a little as it became more frequent, and how you were losing weight rapidly

he probably doesn't ask about it at first, but sometimes he'll mention little things or try to subtly express concern

"do you not like your lunch? you can have my fries, if you want."

he might confront you about it, and assumes that there's something else going on in your life that's been affecting you. he figures that would explain the lethargy, the dizziness, and how pre-occupied you are.

he has no idea what an eating disorder is.

you have to explain it, and he probably does some research online about what your disorder is and it just kinda. clicks for him. like the puzzle pieces snap into place

he thinks of all the times you've shown symptoms and warning signs, and he feels like a complete asshole for ignoring them

he keeps it in mind afterwards. he'll offer you pieces of his lunch, and invite your family over for dinner. he also reminds you that he's there for you, whatever that means.

he tries to spend more time with you, sort of as a way to ease his mind that you're safe. and he has his mom make your favorite snacks when you two hang out!!

stan tries to be more mindful of his words, and takes other peoples mental health more into consideration. it's kind of a wake-up call to him

"damn, Y/N, you got sand in your vagina? you look awful."

"lay off, cartman."

"what?! i'm just saying! we were all thinking it!"

if you get really dizzy and nearly faint he gets really scared and immediately takes you to the school nurse. like he's very concerned that you're dying or something and falls asleep in the nurses office waiting for you to recover

he doesn't fully understand the disorder, but he still feels really bad about it!!!! he hopes that one day you'll have a better relationship with food. until then, he's happy to do everything he can to make it easier on you

kyle broflovski

he's probably a little ignorant of your symptoms at first, like he'll tell himself in his head that it's probably nothing.

in fact, he probably thinks you're sick. puking, not eating, always tired. he assumes it's just the common cold, and doesn't pry.

he can't help but worry though. bringing your own lunch with barely anything in it, never staying still, always drinking diet drinks. it was little things that added up and made him suspicious

he wants to mind his own business, but he figures he would be a bad friend if he just let you go through whatever you're going through on your own. he has to be there for his friends.

"Y/N? dude, can i talk to you? over here." kyle pulls you out of the hall into a secluded area.

"uhh, yeah, what's up?"

"uh, listen dude, are you sick or something? like, you haven't been eating any of your lunches, and to be honest... you look terrible."

"gee, thanks."

"ah, i didn't mean it like that. you look exhausted, i mean look at your eyebags! is.. is something wrong?"

you struggle to find words.

"yeah, no, i'm.. i've been fine. a cold, is all."

".. are you sure?"

"...yyyeah."

he keeps an eye on you after that, giving a worried look and furrowed brow when you refuse to eat, but you dismiss it every time.

he starts to research online about what could possibly be going on. not eating, always tired, low-energy, regurgitation...

he comes to the conclusion you might have an eating disorder, and he's honestly super lost on where to go from there. does he confront you about it? does he say nothing and leave you alone? is it any of his business?

he decides to start trying to ease his way into conversation by packing you a lunch one day. that way, you have to eat it!

he does little things like that, like following you to the bathroom after lunch or stopping you during laps around the school. it's... a little manipulative, trying to pressure you into cracking or stopping your bad habits. but, he really doesn't know how else to approach this.

once he talks to you about it, he tries his best to be emotionally available for you. he tries to keep his mouth shut and listen to you talk.

afterwards, he'll give you little pats on the shoulder as encouragement, or bring little chocolates from home for you in his lunchbox. he knows he isn't the best with stuff like this, so he tries to show his care by inviting you to play video games at his house.

to him, quality time can be one of the best ways to bond with someone. he's always inviting you to hang out or go out for dinner with his family!

eric cartman

"you gonna eat that?"

"like you need anymore food, fat-boy."

he's mainly confused on why you're acting so weird. it's sloppy joe day, dude. what the fuck are you doing staring at the wall??

most definitely takes the food you don't eat

"dude, Y/N, what crawled up your ass and died? you've been picking at your food all period."

"..nothing."

he huffs and turns back to his tray, mumbling under his breath. "well, fine, be a dick."

if you were to ever pass out, he'd assume you didn't sleep enough or have like. heart issues or something. which wouldn't be that far off

he only really cares if it causes some sort of medical problem or something. like heart disease, fainting and hitting your bead. then atp it gets him a little nervous. mostly because he isn't prepared to rush anyone to the er anytime soon

it bugs him. like it gradually gets more and more under his skin how you're obviously starving yourself. yeah, he knows. and he wish he didn't, because it's so confusing to him

why???? what is the purpose??????

honestly might subtly try to talk to stan or kenny about it. not cuz he cares. definitely not

"have you noticed Y/N lately??"

"what about them?"

he sighs. "god, you really haven't noticed? they're totally ana-recks-it or whatever it's called. they hurl in the bathroom after lunch every day."

it's kind of hard for him to grasp his mind around,,,, so he chooses to ignore it. it still pisses him off though to no avail

he knows a bit about eating disorders from the internet and stuff, and that you're probably doing it out of insecurity or something. he really doesn't care about that part, but your habits gradually annoy him more and more

sometimes he'll just. push food to you at the lunch table. and when you ask why he's like huffing and reaches to take it back like "well damn i'll have it myself then"

he does get actually concerned if you get super light-headed or something. like if you stand up from your seat and fall back gripping your head he'll look at you from across the room all curious

and might take you to the nurse if nobody else will. maybe

kenny mccormick

yeah, he notices. he doesn't bring it up very often, how you don't eat a lot at lunch, mainly to save you any embarrassment.

he honestly just assumes you don't eat around him in particular out of sympathy. he thinks that you see his measly sandwich and apple and don't eat out of guilt. which he himself feels really bad about

tries to ask you what's wrong and ask if you don't want your food,, but tries not to make a big deal out of it

observes you a little closer, taking mental note of your weird little behaviors. going to the bathroom frequently, always walking, never quite seeming comfortable at your lunch table. he couldn't put his finger on it!

it was one day when you fainted and had to be sent to the nurses office that he pieced it together. he hadn't learned a lot about eating disorders, only a few bits and pieces off the web.

he felt guilty, for some reason. like he had failed you as a friend

i feel like if he were to confront you about it, he'd do it in a subtle way, not like an interrogation. he already feels like he's invading your privacy by mentioning it!!

he might bring it up while you're playing video games in your room. "mmph, mmmph? mm mm mmph mph mmphph? (hey, Y/N? can i ask you something?")

you pause the split-screen game you two were playing and look at him. "sure dude, go for it."

he looks around a little before his eyes land back on you. "mmphh.... mph mmphph mph mmph mph mmph mmphph mppphpm mmph mmmph. (so, i wanted to talk to you about something really important.")

you raise your eyebrow a little. "ookay."

he fidgets a little. "mph... mph mph mmphph? mmph.. mp mmph mph mphph mhp mmfmf mmphph mmphph. mmph mph? (well... are you okay? i've noticed you've been kinda distant lately. what's up?")

you feel your heart drop a bit, anxiety starting to swell. "uh.. i've been fine, i don't know what you're talking about."

his eyes look a little rejected, but he keeps trying. "mm.. mphm mph mphph mmf mm mph mph mmph mph. mp.. mp mph mmf mmf.. mphpmf mphhfm? mph mmmphph?(uh.. i'm just gonna say it. do.. do you have like.. eating problems? a disorder?")

he appreciates that you're talking to him about it, even if you're being honest or not.

he won't treat you differently afterwards. he'll give you a good pat on the back and a smile (you can only tell by the crinkle of his eyes), but he treats you the same.

he'll point out your funky mannerisms even less, and reminds you that you can talk to him. he isn't great at talking but he's great at listening!!!! also tries to be nicer to you. but he doesn't do it consciously, he just feels more of an urge to help you out and even protect you. specifically from cartman.

[wrenfea]

Is it ok to ask like.. how do I know if pains I get are normal and maybe growing pains or it’s actually a disorder and I’m not faking/dramatic or it’s just caused by autism muscle weakness? since u also have knee pain… genuinely is it normal to have pain when waking up stairs, bending down, randomly when walking, and when going to sitting down on the floor to up? and other random pains, throbbing, tingling, etc in different limbs? and shaking/instability when walking down stairs? when do I know when this is serious and not normal vs when it is normal? what if the tests don’t show any results like who do I even go to .. my primary care says I just have “growing pains” but I think I’m old enough where it should’ve stopped and it’s probably not that right? like ,, what is normal pain and normal tiredness vs fatigue is it normal to be out of energy everyday to the point where u do nothing /gen do u have any advice on advocating for yourself to doctors? ,, gettig the right dx? I feel like it’s not bad enough or not real like it must just be normal in *my* case what could it even be? /gen

I've never experienced growing pains myself, and I'm not sure what age you are and what age they are supposed to stop. So I can't say they are or aren't growing pains.

Something that made me realize something was wrong was when I was having a discussion with my roommate about how they seem to do stuff all day without getting tired. How are they able to complete multiple tasks one after another? Isn't it painful? Isn't it tiring?

And they turned and looked at me and said: "No?? Wren are you okay?? That's...not normal"

It hit me that most people do not feel any degree of pain most of the time. They only experience pain temporarily, when they have a headache from not drinking enough water or if they stubbed their toe, sometimes they get sick and are in pain for a while, but always feel better in the end.

It's really weird to me, and I am insanely jealous. Every second I am in some level of pain, usually around 2-3 most days, and it can get to 8-9 during flares. I am always physically tired. It feels like a weight and I thought everyone had that weight. The difference is that they are able to put the weight down and get things done, while I am chained to this weight and must carry it with me wherever I go.

My advice is that if something is causing you so much discomfort that it is causing distress and affecting you're ability to do the things you want to do, you need to go to a doctor. Being in so much pain you can't get anything done for an entire day IS 100% one of these situations.

I found that when I was still going to my pediatric doctor, I had a hard time convincing them something was wrong. They told me to exercise, gave me vitamins, told me to eat better, told me to lose weight.

I listened to them and changed my diet, started exercising even though it was painful, and lost 30 lbs. Parts of me felt better of course, but the pain was still there. Still they didn't listen to me. I was old enough to switch to a primary care doctor for adults, and found one who actually listened to me. She ran a blood panel and couldn't find anything, and instead of giving up she researched my symptoms and diagnosed me with Fibromyalgia. She prescribed me medication based on her research. It has been a struggle finding treatment that works, and unfortunately I still haven't found the right treatment. Something that makes it harder is that my pain lessens in warm weather and worsens in cold weather. So it is hard to see how well a treatment is working until the end of Fall.

The most important lesson I have learned from my experience from working with many...many doctors of many different fields is this:

YOU CAN SWITCH DOCTORS ANYTIME FOR ANY REASON!! They won't be mad at you and if they are then that's their problem. If you don't vibe with a doctor or they aren't giving you the care you need, find a different doctor! There is no penalty! It is normal and expected! Don't waste your time and money on a doctor that won't listen to you!

Some insurance companies will restrict your choice of doctor and that sucks and if that is the case for you I'm sorry but I can't really offer any advice, if anyone who sees this can help with that, feel free to respond!

I am fortunate enough to have a widely accepted insurance plan from my parents and have dropped doctors many times. It can be hard to find a doctor that works for you and pretty exhausting to go through your health history over and over again, but trust me, it's worth it.

Also, if you have a friend or family member you trust and who supports you, bring them with you. Being alone with a doctor can be intimidating, so it really helps to have someone on your side. Someone who can back you up and make sure that the doctor doesn't brush off your concerns. I bring my dad or my boyfriend with me to all first appointments, and to any appointments where I am bringing up a concern I am nervous about. You can also have them in the room with you during telehealth appointments as well.

Sorry this answer got really long, I feel for you anon, I really do. I was in pretty much the same situation. I hope that this helps you find a treatment that works for you. Let me know how it goes, I'm rooting for you! <3 <3 <3

[blissfulalchemist]

"You took all the pillows so I'm using you as one." + "You are crushing me right now." Red Brooks Bros ♥

Alright here’s a little Brains and Disaster verse for you. Please enjoy your child of a son!

Life still felt out of the ordinary even a year after Eden’s Gate fell apart. There was still a lot to clean up, most of the mess from their savior, and people that needed recovery from that time. The cold winter months didn’t help much with trying to finish putting the pieces all back together, but it did offer a chance for life to feel normal again. Today was one such occasion as Cat waited for the popcorn to start cooking, forced to make it the old fashioned way as no one liked the synthetic butter and it was no longer a good option for her to eat it at this point. It was movie night and nothing was going to stop that from happening even though it was only going to be two of them tonight. 

The blast of cold air hit Cat as Wes stomped through the door brushing the snow off of his coat, goosebumps forming on her exposed skin in the tank top. “Take your shoes off at the door this time Wes,” she called out, finally hearing the popping of kernels. 

Wes came into the kitchen shaking the melting flakes from his hair, a few sizzling as they hit the pot, “Just us tonight?” She nodded giving a light shake of the pot, Cat put her hands warding off some of the droplets that came for her, “Can I pick tonight then?”

“We have time for two,” she looked up to the window seeing the big flakes from the sky, “Maybe more if the snow keeps up like this.”

Wes leaned against the counter picking up one of the cocktail straws they kept around for him, “Might be best. Don’t think John and Raf’ll make it back from where they’re at.” He placed the end of the straw in his mouth.

She shifted the flannel pajama pants letting the folding to shorten them loose, “So long as they’re safe that’s all that matters,” the popping slowed as Wes made his way to the shelves of movies. “How much butter? Or do you just want plain this time?”

“Don’t matter much with the butter,” he looked through movies intently, “Just watch the salt. You made it too salty last time.”

She laughed, “If I remember correctly it was just fine and you asked for more.”

“Nah,” he pulled a few options from the shelf, “that didn’t happen. It was all you.”

She rolled her eyes grabbing the bowls and lemon juice, “Come on I got the bedroom all ready for us.”

“Thought that was a one time thing,” he teased, Cat bumping him into the wall. He gave a small laugh rubbing his upper arm, “Ow.”

“Don’t think I’m not afraid to tarnish your share of popcorn if you keep it up,” she warned, placing the bowls on the nightstand sitting on the edge of the bed. Wes jumped up, fanning the movies out, “You picked out some good ones tonight, Wes.”

He pointed to an Alfred Hitchcock movie, “Say we start with this one,” his finger moving to a musical, “then this one cause know you like it,” he pointed to the last movie, a slice of life romance movie, “End the night with this one.”

She picked up the last one, raising an eyebrow, “Why this one? You didn’t seem to enjoy it last time we watched it.”

He gave a shrug, “With ever’thing seems nice to see normal.”

She smiled nodding, “Then I approve of this plan,” she got up getting the DVD player set up with the movies, still seemed like such a unique find of their six disc player, while Wes got himself settled to sit against the headboard. Cat joined him creating a cushion system with the pillows, one she could use to eventually lie on her side as it always seemed to happen by the end of the first movie. Cat took the bottle of lemon juice, spraying it on her bowl of popcorn, Wes rolling his eyes shaking his head, “Wes, you know this is my thing. You need to stop being so surprised.”

“Not surprised, just weird still.”

She took a bite, “I’d say don’t knock till you try it but it’s even better with the extra butter microwave popcorn.” 

He looked up in thought, “You haven’t been buyin’ much of it lately.”

She slowed her bites, “They say it's bad for you,” she shrugged, “So figure might as well stop eating it you know.”

He looked at her eyes narrowed, looking for any signs of what she was hiding, “You’re the most unhealthy of all us,” he hummed, “Don’t think that’s it.”

“You’re one to talk about being unhealthy,” she poked his stomach, “You hardly eat. If not for us you’d be nothing but bones. Not eating is just as unhealthy.”

He put his hands up in defeat, “Geez calm down. Just an observation is all.” He turned to face the movie again, eyes straying in her direction every now and then. Cat seemed to be her normal self but there was just something a bit different with her, especially with how she answered the last question she asked. Cat deflected like she did when she didn’t want to tell the truth and a lie would be too hard to make believable. By the time the movie was over, Wes got up taking their bowls with him, “Gettin’ a beer. You want some?”

She shook her head, “No. But the ice cream in the freezer would be amazing.”

“Any kind of drink,” he asked again, covering all his bases with her.

“No alcohol for me tonight Wes,” Cat said stretching out along the bed, “Just the ice cream. Oh, and some water.” He nodded leaving her in the room, grabbing what they needed. As he made himself a stronger drink, it started to occur to him that he hadn’t seen her drink at all the last few weeks. The bar was usually a common occurrence but it had been a while since he’d seen her even touch the stuff. He handed her the ice cream, placing the water on the nightstand. She looked so comfortable with all the pillows around her, leaving little room for him. 

He frowned, “Where am I supposed to be?”

Cat looked at the bed, “Oh,” she pursed her lips, “That’s a very good question because I’m already very comfy.” 

He climbed on the bed pushing her back so she was as close as she could be against the headboard, “Now since you took all the pillows,” he lightly patted her stomach before leaning against her, settling himself so his legs wouldn’t be in front of the tv, Cat laughing as he made himself comfortable, “I’m using you as one.”

She rolled her eyes running her fingers through his hair, “Fair is fair I guess. Just be careful okay?”

He looked up to her with his golden sympathetic eyes, “Cramps?”

She didn’t look his way, “Something like that,” she responded as she started up the musical. Her voice filled the room for some of the songs as Wes tried to put pieces together. Something seemed off with her and he was only just starting to realize it, but there were things wrong for almost two months now. Then again, Raf wasn’t entirely himself either, there were a few times he seemed to have drank more than normal, while Cat stayed sober despite having a few drinks. Their diets had changed a bit too, well mostly for Cat it didn’t seem that out of the norm for her husband. 

By the intermission of the musical Cat looked at the clock, “Maybe we ought to call it quits with this one.” She yawned, “Getting kind of tired and I do want to watch the last movie with you,” another sign, she never felt frequently tired unless her mood went way down something that hadn’t been a problem. She patted Wes’ chest, “Here get up I have to go to the bathroom.” Wes watched as she left the room, his brain debating on if he should get to the bottom of this mystery now or….

No, now was the better option. He got up from the bed waiting near the door for her. She walked out, eyes widening in surprise seeing him stand there, cursing under breath as she clutched her chest, “Somethin’s up. Not just with you, but Raf too.”

She took a step to the side, “Don’t know what you’re talking about Wes. Think you’re getting too many ideas in your head,” she wave him off, taking a step forward. 

“No,” he blocked her way into the room, “you two are up to something. I’m gonna find out.” He put his hands on his hips standing straight hoping to intimidate Cat. 

She gave a nod, “Yeah you sure will Wes. Let me know when you do,” Cat pushed past him again.

He let out a breath as he let her take a step, “Didn’t want to have to do this.” He shook out his arms readying himself. 

Cat turned to him confused, “Do what?” She asked before Wes put his arms around her letting her carry his weight. “Wes!”

“Tell me what’s wrong,” he said, pushing against her a bit.

“Wes! Stop it!” She pleaded, her knees starting to bend as he managed to make himself become more dead weight against her.

“I can’t,” a smile on his face as she came closer to the floor, “Gravity it’s increasing,” he proclaimed in a dramatic voice, as he pushed harder against her arms trying to keep him off of her. 

“No it’s not you jerk!” He opened his mouth to quote more, “And no,” Cat huffed, “the same thing didn’t happen to you the last time.” Catlina finally fell to the floor Wes on top of her, she tried and failed to push him off of her, most of her arms trapped under his body. “Wes,” she whined, muffled by his shoulder, “Get off of me.”

He shook his head, “No.”

“Don’t be such a child,” she tried to roll out from under him, his arms wrapping around her tightly, her breathing starting to become restricted, “Wes! You’re crushing me right now!”

“Just tell me,” he repeated, his hands reaching for her waist to tickle her.

She gasped, “Don’t you dare!” Her chest hurt even more as he made her laugh and squirm under him, “Wesley Daniel Brooks! Stop this right now!”

He lifted his head just enough to look her in the eyes, an exaggerated frown, “Now who’s being mean?” He let himself fall against her, knocking the air out of her, “Just tell me.”

She shook her head, “I can’t!” Her laughing started up again, “I want to but I can’t. I’m sorry.”

“Not good enough,” her sides were starting to hurt and she felt her arms tire more with each second that passed. 

She laughed, “Okay fine! Fine! But you gotta get off of me first,” he propped himself on his elbows looking down at her, “Like fully off of me so I can catch my breath.” She gave a light push as she brought herself to a sitting position. Wes stood, holding his hand out to her as she took deep breaths, “Thank you,” she said grabbing his hand. He watched her as she smoothed out her tank top and pants, inhaling deeply when she was done.

“So what’s up?”

She pointed a stern finger at him, “You can’t tell anyone else. I shouldn’t even be telling you but you damn near killed me.” She crossed her arms looking to the ground, “I’m pregnant.”

Wes’ eyes went wide, jaw dropping, “What?”

Catlina shrugged, running a hand through her hair, “Raf and I are going to have a kid.”

“Assume he knows right?” She nodded, “This new?”

She bit her lip, a blush coming to her cheeks, “No, not really.” She grabbed Wes’ hand seeing him start to turn sad, “We haven’t told anyone else Wes. In fact, we were planning on telling you next week, then everyone after that.”

He gave a slight tilt of his head, “How far ‘long are ya?”

“Almost three months,” her free hand instinctively went to her lower abdomen, “This is going to sound dumb but we waited becuase there’s a superstition in my family. Tell anyone outside of immediate blood family before three months and you’re gonna jinx it.” She gave a squeeze of his hand, “I’m sorry. I really wanted to tell you but I wasn’t sure how far that superstition went and I,” she shook her head, “I didn’t want anything bad to happen.” She looked up to his eyes, “I’m really sorry Wes. You’re the first person I’ve told other than Raf if that makes you feel any better.”

“Not even your dad or sisters,” he asked.

She shook her head, “No. We just started to get a better relationship going and I don’t know it seemed like too much to drop on them.” She glanced away from him, “How do you feel about it all though? Now that you know.”

“Bit sad you didn’t tell me sooner,” Wes took a breath, “but real happy for ya both. Truly. You always wanted this and it’s happening.” Cat smiled nodding, her eyes filling with tears, “So long you both are happy, that’s all that matters.”

Cat pulled him into a hug, “Thank you Wes. Next time you’ll be better kept in the loop, I promise.” He hugged her tightly lifting her from the ground briefly before putting her on the ground, “But Wes,” he looked at her serious expression, “You can’t tell anyone else. Don’t even let Raf know that you know. Act as surprised as you can when we tell you and John next week. Got it?” Wes gave her a smirk smiling, Cat holding out her pinky, “Promise me.”

Wes wrapped his pinky around Cat’s looking her dead in the eye, “I promise.” She nodded walking back to the bed, “So you gonna name ‘em after me?”

“Wes we don’t even know the gender,” Cat answered rolling her eyes as she made a spot on the bed for herself, Wes following suit.

“Wes could be gender neutral,” he argued.

“Wes Estrada dos Santos doesn’t really have a nice ring to it does it?” She laughed, letting herself lay against him.

Wes hit play on the movie, “I mean, could make it work.”

Catlina rolled her eyes, groaning, “This was a mistake already,” she looked up to him smiling, “Telling you that is.” Wes chuckled, keeping quiet as the movie started.

“Wait,” he said softly, “This mean I’ve to plan a shower now?”