Fandom and OC fanfic blog

Hi I'm Summer! Ask me about my OC's or submit a prompt! Search 'oc stuff' or 'oc story' to read about them. I also write for a variety of fandoms such as Supernatural, Criminal minds, and Marvel, and others which are listed on the fandom tab! ASKBOX OPEN!!!

[1heartfanfics]

what should I write?

Hello, I have 2 weeks off of work between positions and will try to do some writing. Currently I’m really only feeling inspired to write for Tarlos, destiel, or maybe stucky or Everdeen. Possibly JJ and John B from outer banks. Mainly thinking a h/c type of fic. If anyone has any requests please let me know!

[1heartfanfics]

The poll has spoken - TK with the flu it is. However, this is going to be a little different than a typical sickfic as it's going to take place right after the sickee was ill and is now in the recovery phase. Kind of like a sickness aftercare fic. I've been wanting to write something like this for a while.

When Carlos walked back into their bedroom, he found TK awake. He was lying on his side, blankly staring. He looked tired, and a little confused, but not like he was moments away from vomiting. Which was a significant improvement over the last 48 hours.

"Hey baby," Carlos said, setting down the glass of water he'd refilled for TK on the nightstand. Then he sat down on the edge of the bed, draping an arm over TK's waist. "How are you feeling?" he asked.

TK blinked slowly up at him. "Okay, I think?" he answered. Although it sounded more like a question.

Carlos reached over to feel TK's forehead and found an absence of the heat from the past 2 days, much to his relief. He ruffled TK's messy hair. "Seems like your fever finally broke," he said, "How's your stomach feeling?" he asked.

TK frowned slightly, considering it for a moment, "Feels a little weird, but not like sick really" he shrugged.

"Well that's good, seems like you've turned the corner on this nasty bug huh?" Carlos smiled, relieved to see that TK was feeling better. Carlos had never seen him so sick.

TK nodded slowly. He definitely wasn't magically all better. Carlos could tell that although some color had returned to TK's face, he was still pretty pale. And he seemed to be a little disoriented still. Carlos was sure he was exhausted, and definitely dehydrated. TK had barely eaten or drank anything for 2 days. But this was the first time he'd been able to more or less have a conversation since he got sick.

"Think you could sit up and drink some water?" Carlos asked tentatively. He'd forced as much water on TK as he could while he was sick but most of it was either refused or just came back up. He'd debated on taking TK to the hospital at one point.

TK nodded, then slowly pushed himself up to lean back against the wall. Carlos noticed how TK's arm shook from the effort of sitting himself up.

"Here, take it slow, small sips," Carlos instructed as he handed TK the water.

TK accepted the glass with shaky hands, taking several careful sips. As he lowered the glass, Carlos took it from him, setting it back down on the nightstand. They sat quietly for a moment, waiting, to make sure that the water would stay down okay. Lord knows it hadn't been the past couple days.

"Water sitting okay?" Carlos asked after a minute. TK cocked his head, considering, assessing how he felt, then nodded.

"Yeah I think so," TK said.

"Good, that's a start," Carlos nodded, smiling softly. He was glad to see TK feeling better.

TK sighed, running a hand through his hair, "I feel disgusting."

"You wanna take a shower?" Carlos suggested.

"Yes, that sounds amazing," TK nodded.

"Think you're ready to stand?" Carlos asked. TK nodded, pushing himself up off of the headboard and swinging his legs off the side of the bed.

Carlos stood, holding his hands out to TK and helped him to his feet slowly.

"Woah, easy, I've got you," Carlos said, quickly wrapping an arm around TK's waist to steady him as he swayed on his feet.

"Sorry," TK breathed, leaning into Carlos, "I feel really weak."

"I'm not surprised, you were really sick Ty, it might take a couple days to really get back to normal," Carlos said.

After a moment TK pulled away to stand on his own, "I'm okay," he said when Carlos gave him a questioning look. Carlos had a hand reached out to grab hold of him again, just in case. But TK seemed to be steady enough.

"Do you want me to come with you?" Carlos asked as TK started to slowly make his way toward the bathroom.

"I'll be okay," TK smiled softly, knowing that was Carlos was really asking was if he would be okay to shower on his own.

"Okay," Carlos nodded, although he was biting his lip, which meant he was worried. "Just take it slow okay? And if you start feeling faint just sit down and holler for me," he instructed.

"I will, I promise," TK said, reaching out to grab Carlos's hand and give it a squeeze.

Carlos nodded, although after seeing TK practically on death's door the past couple days he still felt a little nervous about him being in the shower alone. But TK probably wanted a little bit of me time to clean up and get to feeling himself again. So Carlos retreated back downstairs to the kitchen.

About 20 minutes later TK made his way down the stairs and came to sit at the bar, where Carlos was leaning over the counter on his phone.

"Hi baby," Carlos said, "How was your shower?" he asked.

"Amazing," TK breathed, "I feel almost like a real human again."

"That's good to hear," Carlos said, leaning over to kiss TK's forehead. "So the big question is, do you think you're up to trying a little bit to eat?" he asked.

TK winced, taking a deep breath. Okay, so maybe not quite back to normal yet.

But then he nodded hesitantly, "I'll try," he said.

"Are you sure?" Carlos asked. "I mean you definitely need to eat something today but we can wait until a little later if you're not quite ready," he said. The last thing he wanted was to force food too soon and cause TK to backtrack.

"Yeah I think so. My stomach hurts, but I think it's just sore, I don't really feel nauseous or anything," he said.

"Okay, good. Does anything sound good? Or not bad at least? Maybe we could start with toast or crackers?" Carlos asked.

"Crackers sound okay I think," TK answered.

So Carlos walked over to the pantry and pulled out a sleeve of ritz crackers, which set on the counter in front of TK. He also filled up a new glass of water and set that down as well.

TK stared down at the crackers, but made no move to eat one. Now he was the one chewing on his lip nervously.

"Hey," Carlos said softly, reaching out to cup TK's face.

"I don't want to throw up again," TK sighed, looking up to meet Carlos's eyes.

"I know, I don't want that for you either. And like I said we can wait a little while if you want. But I do think that you've more or less gotten past whatever that was. You being able to get up and shower and walk around is a massive improvement from even just a few hours ago," Carlos explained.

TK nodded, "You're probably right," he said, reaching for a cracker.

"Just take it slow babe, and if anything starts to feel off then you stop," Carlos encouraged.

TK took a deep breath, and took a bite of the cracker. He paused for a minute after eating the first cracker before taking another. But he slowly ended up eating about a quarter of the sleeve, which made Carlos feel a lot better that he at least had some kind of nutrients for his body to finish healing.

"Doing okay?" Carlos asked.

"I think so," TK nodded, "I feel a little bit better actually, not quite as shaky," he said, holding a hand up to demonstrate. There was still a slight tremor in his hand, but notably not nearly as bad as they were shaking when he'd been holding the glass of water this morning.

"You're getting a little bit of color back too," Carlos noticed, reaching out to ruffle TK's damp hair.

TK closed his eyes, leaning into Carlos's touch. "I am exhausted though. Honestly I feel like I could go back to bed," he sighed, posture becoming more slumped.

"You could," Carlos said, "Go back to bed. Or take a nap on the couch if you want to have something on the tv."

"It's like 10am," TK said doubtfully.

"Yes, but your body has been through a lot, it's worn out and running on empty. So if you feel like you need to rest then you should rest," Carlos said.

"Okay," TK sighed, "I just want to be better."

"I know baby, and you're on your way there, but it's gonna take a little bit to get fully back to normal," Carlos said. "Come on, let's get you laying down," he added, seeing that TK's face was starting to pale again, dark circles under his eyes returning.

Carlos walked around to the other side of the island where TK was sitting and helped him up by the elbow. He wrapped an arm around TK's waist and led him over to the couch. Once TK was laying down, he draped TK's favorite throw blanket over him and handed him the remote.

"There we go," Carlos said, leaning down to kiss TK's forehead, subtly also feeling for the return of a fever, but thankfully found none.

When he turned to head back to the kitchen, TK's hand caught his wrist. "Stay with me?" TK asked quietly.

"Of course Ty," Carlos smiled. He moved to the other end of the couch, moving to sit with TK's legs across his lap.

TK put on an episode of friends, one of his comfort shows, although he was asleep within 5 minutes. Carlos left the show running though, so that it would be on when TK woke up, and instead reached over to grab the book he'd been reading off of the side table.

When TK woke up a couple hours later, he looked revived once again. His face returned to its normal color and his eyes brighter. He slowly moved to sit up, scooting closer to Carlos to lean on his shoulder.

"Hey, how are you feeling my love?" Carlos asked, turning to press a kiss into TK's messy hair.

"Better," TK said, "Kinda hungry," he added.

"Well that is a very good sign. What sounds good?" Carlos asked, grateful to see that TK was still on the mend. He'd been a little worried that TK getting up and eating so quickly had sent him backward, but thankfully that didn't seem to be the case.

TK thought for a minute then said, "Mashed potatoes?"

"Mashed potatoes it is. Coming right up," Carlos said, getting up and heading to the kitchen.

TK took a few minutes to fully wake up, then came to join Carlos in the kitchen, sitting at the island.

"Maybe you should just stay on the couch and relax baby," Carlos said, moving to stand at TK's side, placing a hand on his back.

"I'm okay Carlos," TK said, giving Carlos a little smile.

"You weren't," Carlos said, his expression turning darker.

"It was bad?" TK asked. If he was being honest, he didn't have a lot of clear memories of the past couple days.

Carlos nodded. "I've never seen you so sick. I called Tommy on the yesterday to see if she thought I should take you to the hospital," he explained.

"Why? Dehydration?" TK asked.

Carlos nodded again, "I hadn't been able to get you to eat or drink anything in over 24 hours and you were throwing up almost every couple hours still. Tommy had me check your capillary stretch or something and it was still okay so she said you didn't need to go but that if you weren't better this morning she would come over and give you an IV."

"Capillary refill. It's a test for dehydration," TK nodded. "I'm sorry babe, that must have been scary."

"It was," Carlos said, taking a deep breath, "But I'm just glad that you're feeling better."

Truthfully, Carlos had been terrified. He didn't have any medical training beyond one CPR course and some basic first aid, so he felt like he was severely in over his head. Once TK's fever got so high that he was delirious, unable to respond to questions and mumbling nonsense to himself, Carlos had been at a loss.

Thankfully, Tommy had walked him through it. She'd had him put TK in a lukewarm bath to help bring his temperature down and to have him suck on ice cubes, even though he spit most of them out. Last night, Carlos had hardly slept. He'd just sat next to TK, holding his hand and rubbing his back and replacing the cool damp cloth on his forehead to try and keep the fever at bay.

"You must be exhausted," TK said, turning to face Carlos and wrap his arms around his boyfriends waist.

Carlos sighed, leaning slightly into TK as he wrapped his own arms around TK, pressing his face into TK's shoulder.

"Yeah, I am," he breathed out, relishing in the feeling of having his boyfriend back. He'd missed TK. Because the person he'd been taking care of these past couple days, had been only a shell of a person. "But I'm alright, I'm just glad you're okay," he added, not wanting TK to worry. That was the last thing he needed to be doing.

"Well maybe you should rest too. We don't want you getting sick next," TK pointed out. Which was a valid point.

"You're probably right," Carlos sighed. "After we get a little more food in you how about we both take a nap together?" he suggested.

"That sounds perfect," TK agreed. "Thank you for taking care of me," he added, arms squeezing a little tighter around Carlos's waist.

Carlos squeezed back, "Of course baby. Always."

[1heartfanfics]

Hunger Games/SOTR thoughts

OMG I just finished reading SOTR and it was so gooooood!!

*spoilers below the cut *

Baby haymitch was such a sweetheart but it makes so much sense why he became a grumpy drunk because of everything he went through.

But what really got me was the epilogue at the end, where it's implied that Haymitch wrote the book himself, because Katniss and Peeta were writing the other books and encouraged him to. But I had a thought. What if Katniss and Peeta wrote the trilogy together after the war as a way to help Peeta get his memories back after being hijacked???

[1heartfanfics]

What should I write next?

Tarlos - Carlos struggling after the apartment fire

Tarlos - TK sick with the flu

Outer banks (JJ/JohnB) - JJ breaking down after a fight with his dad

Stucky

Destiel

Voting ended onAug 11, 2025

[1heartfanfics]

Quick supernatural drabble based on this video of Dean having a nightmare except when Sam busts in to Dean's room to check on him he finds Cas already there. I also sort of referenced this scene to explain why Sam already knew about Dean/Cas in my last supernatural fic where Dean was really sick.

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Sam wakes up with a start, gasping for air. Something was wrong, he could sense it.

"SAM!" Dean yelled from down the hall, fear in his voice.

Immediately, Sam was out of bed, snagging his gun off of the desk and quickly making his way down the hall. His heart was pounding as he reached Dean's door, which was cracked open.

In one swift motion he flung the door open, gun at the ready. But he quickly lowered his gun when he took in the sight in front of him.

Dean was asleep, writhing on the bed as he yelled Sam's name again, fists clenched. A nightmare. But the surprising part was that Cas had beat Sam to it.

Cas's eyes were wide, having jumped when Sam shoved the door open with his gun drawn. For a moment they just started at each other, neither knowing what to do or say.

But then Dean yelled again, "SAM! Sam, no!"

"Shh, shh," Cas said, turning his attention back to Dean.

Cas was sitting down on the bed next to Dean, a hand on Dean's shoulder. He reached over to press his other hand to Dean's chest, which seemed to calm him. Sam wondered if he was using some of his grace to quell the nightmare.

"You're okay Dean." Cas said softly, moving to run his fingers through Dean's hair. Then he seemed to remember that Sam was still gawking in the doorway. He turned back to Sam, looking sheepish.

"I, uh, heard him yell my name. I was worried something had happened," Sam explained, feeling awkward. Cas hadn't beat him to it, Sam realized, he'd already been here. Cas was wearing one of Dean's t-shirts and his normal trenchcoat and button down were folded on Dean's desk.

"He's okay Sam. Just a nightmare," Cas said, glancing down at Dean sadly. Made Sam wonder if this was a more common occurrence than he was aware of.

"Right. Good. Uh, thank you. For looking out for him." Sam stammered.

"Of course. I always do," Cas answered. "Maybe we keep this between us though?" he added.

"Yeah. Yes, I can do that," Sam nodded.

"Thank you," Cas gave him a grateful smile.

"Well. I guess I'll, uh, leave you to it then," Sam said, turning to leave. But he stopped in the doorway, hesitating.

"Cas?" he asked, turning back.

"Hmm?" Cas answered, his focus turned back to Dean.

"So are you guys like together then?" Sam asked. He knew this probably wasn't the right time, but he couldn't help but be curious. Sure, he'd had his suspicions over the years, but he'd always convinced himself he was making things up.

"Not in so many words," Cas shrugged, "But yes I suppose we are," he finished.

"Good, I'm glad," Sam smiled, happy for his brother to have someone. "Don't worry, my lips are sealed," Sam promised, holding up his hands in mock surrender. Then he quietly saw himself out, shutting the door behind him.

He'd called it.

[1heartfanfics]

Went to a concert last night which reminded me of a trope I really like.

Performers/musicians having to go onstage and perform while dealing with an upset stomach. And then having to sing and dance and run around on stage just jostling their stomach even more. And getting hot and sweaty starts to make them nauseous. Which is compounded by the fear of throwing up in front of the audience and on camera. Or maybe they play guitar and their guitar is pressing on their stomach too. Lots of good options.

I don’t have any OCs that perform so I can’t really write it. Might make up some random characters.

[1heartfanfics]

So this is going to be a destiel fic, set right after they get Dean back from being possessed by Michael in season 14. I haven't watched any of this season in a while so there will probably be some inaccuracies. This is also super self indulgent and not entirely canon or character accurate. It is also very long. Just FYI.

Note: This is fluffier than I usually write destiel because I feel like it's not super character accurate but oh well.

TW: depictions of vomit

"Woah dude, are you alright?" Sam asked as Dean walked into the dining room. It was almost noon, but Sam hadn't been surprised that Dean wasn't up yet. After all he'd been through hell the past few weeks. But Dean looked like hell too.

Dean shrugged, slumping down into a chair, which was... uncharacteristic to say the least. No snarky retort or eyeroll. Not to mention that he was ghostly pale with dark circles under his eyes, gaunt almost, with a sheen of sweat shining on his forehead.

"You want some coffee?" Sam nudged his mug forward toward Dean.

"Mm, no," Dean shook his head, quickly pushing the mug away from him back toward Sam.

"Hey, what's going on man?" Sam asked, leaning forward in his chair. Dean turning down coffee? Something must really be wrong.

"Feel like I got run over by a truck," Dean mumbled, dropping his head down into his hands, as if he could barely hold it up.

"Yeah, I'd say you look about like that too," Sam teased, expecting an eye roll or a smack. But Dean didn't even react.

"Seriously Dean, what's wrong?" Sam asked, feeling genuinely worried now.

"Don't know. Feel awful," Dean mumbled, shrugging.

Frowning, Sam stood up and walked to the kitchen to get Dean a glass of water. They could at least start there.

"Here, I got you some water," Sam said, setting it down on the table in front of Dean.

Warily, Dean picked up the glass and brought it to his lips with a shaky hand to take a sip. But almost instantly he set it down harshly, water splashing over the side onto the table. His face went a shade paler, which Sam hadn't thought was possible.

"Dean?" Sam asked, reaching over to grab his brother's shoulder.

But Dean stood quickly, knocking over his chair in the process, and bolted out of the room and down the hall. Sam blinked in surprise, confused, until he heard Dean retching. Shit.

Sam followed Dean down the hall to the bathroom, finding the door open. He stepped inside to find Dean hunched over the toilet. Dean coughed, which morphed into a gag, and brought up what looked like just stomach acid and bile.

"Jesus Dean," Sam breathed, moving to sit on the edge of the bathtub behind Dean. Tentatively, he reached out a hand to rest on his brother's shoulder, unsure if the touch would be wanted. Dean was stubborn, and usually when he was sick he didn't want any help from anyone, especially Sam. But to his surprise, Dean didn't react.

In fact, Dean just groaned, slumping over even further to drop his head down onto his arm. His body continued to convulse with heaves, but nothing was coming up anymore.

"Dude, I think you're done. Maybe you should go lay down, seems like you've got one hell of a bug," Sam said, squeezing Dean's shoulder.

"Can't" Dean groaned.

'Can't what?' Sam wondered. Can't leave the bathroom? Can't move? Dean didn't answer.

"Well lets at least get off the toilet" Sam said, pulling Dean's shoulder back until he was leaning up against the wall behind him.

He stood up to grab a thermometer from their medicine cabinet and checked Dean's temperature. 102.3. Yikes. No wonder he felt so sick.

"You need to take something for that fever, here," Sam said, opening their medicine cabinet to grab the ibuprofen. He poured out three pills and held them out to Dean, who swallowed them dry.

"You think you could drink some water?" Sam asked.

"No," Dean said quickly, shaking his head.

"Okay, we'll try later," Sam sighed. Hopefully the meds would do their job. "Do you want to go back to bed?" he asked.

Dean shook his head, swallowing convulsively. He must still be feeling nauseous.

"Well how about you at least lay down in here then," Sam suggested. Dean didn't answer, which Sam took to be an acceptance of the suggestion.

"I'm gonna go get you a pillow and blanket, okay? I'll be right back," Sam said.

When he returned, Dean didn't look like he'd moved at all. Still slumped over the toilet, shivering now. Sam reached over to lay the pillow down and set the blanket down next to them.

"Alright, here, why don't you lay down," Sam said. Wordlessly, Dean flopped down onto the pillow, silent as Sam draped the blanket over him, then reached up to flush the toilet.

"Do you need anything else?" Sam asked, feeling somewhat helpless. He'd never really had to take care of Dean, because Dean had never let him.

Dean didn't answer, his eyes had drifted shut. If he wouldn't drink any water, sleep was probably the next best thing he could do.

"Alright, just rest then. Hopefully you'll feel better when you wake up," Sam said.

But then Dean mumbled something. All Sam caught was 'Cas'.

"Cas?" Sam asked, "What about Cas?"

"I want Cas," Dean mumbled again. Sam's heart dropped. The fever must be so high it's making him delirious. He'd never say that in front of Sam in his right mind.

"Cas isn't here right now," Sam answered. "I can call him and see when he'll be back," he added, seeing Dean's face fall. His eyes were glassy, which was probably from the fever, but he looked like he was almost near tears. "I'll, uh, be right back okay? Hang in there," Sam said awkwardly as he stepped out of the room.

He pulled out his phone and called Cas, who answered after a few rings.

"Hello Sam,"

"Hey, Cas, where are you at?" Sam asked, not sure how to approach this conversation.

"I'm at the store doing a supply run, why?" Cas asked, understandably confused. Sam wouldn't normally call Cas out of the blue.

"Do you know when you'll be back?" Sam asked.

"Well I still have a few more errands to run... Sam what's going on?" Cas asked.

"Uh Dean's sick. Like pretty bad actually, I've never seen him like this," Sam finally explained.

"That makes sense," Cas said, "His body and his immune system are likely weak after being possessed by Michael for so long," he explained.

Sam hadn't thought about that, it did make sense. Dean was more or less dormant inside his own head while Michael was in control, so his own systems have been unused for a while and probably are weak. But Cas surprisingly didn't seem very concerned.

"He's throwing up, and he seems weak. He's got a fever of over 102," Sam went on.

"Did you want me to pick something up for him while I'm out?" Cas asked, still not understanding the gravity of the situation.

"He asked for you," Sam said.

Cas was silent for a moment at that.

"He asked for me?" Cas repeated.

"Yes. He's laying on the bathroom floor looking like he could cry or pass out at any moment and he said 'I want Cas'," Sam explained.

"I'll be home soon," Cas said, then abruptly hung up. Phone calls with Cas were always interesting. But at least he'd finally gotten how serious this was.

Although Sam knew that Cas and Dean were... something... it wasn't exactly out in the open. Sam had suspected for a long time, but had gotten somewhat of a confirmation from Cas a few years ago when Sam caught him coming out of Dean's room in pajamas one morning. Cas had reluctantly told Sam that although they'd never given it a label they were more or less 'together'.

Cas had also asked Sam to keep the conversation to himself, which is a promise he'd kept. He figured that if Dean wanted him to know he'd tell Sam himself. And so far he hadn't.

So for Dean to ask Sam for Cas like that, meant that he was really really sick.

Sam headed back into the bathroom, thankfully finding Dean in the same position he'd left him in, huddled under a blanket on the floor. He sat down on the floor near Dean's feet, leaning back against the bathtub.

"I just talked to Cas and he'll be back soon okay?" Sam said, reaching out to give his brothers leg a gentle pat. Dean groaned in response and curled in on himself further.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, until Dean suddenly shot up and lurched over the toilet, vomiting stomach acid and bile. He was clearly empty, with nothing left to bring up, but his body didn't seem to know that. He retched harshly, making Sam wince. It looked and sounded painful.

With the next heave Dean pitched forward so far he almost smacked his forehead on the toilet seat. Sam quickly reached out and grabbed Dean by the shoulder, holding him up as he continued to gag emptily.

"Oh Dean," Cas said sadly, appearing in the doorway. "I got him," he said, moving forward to take Sam's place.

Sam stood, letting go of Dean, as Cas swiftly took his place. Cas slid in behind Dean, wrapping one arm around Dean's chest to hold him up and placing the other hand between his shoulder blades, rubbing up and down his spine.

Almost instantly, Sam saw Dean relax a little. Even as he continued to retch and heave, he allowed himself to lean fully into Cas's arm, letting Cas take his weight.

"Cas?" Dean whispered, voice raw, as soon as he was able to breathe.

"I'm here Dean," Cas said, pulling Dean away from the toilet to lean back against his chest. "Shh, just relax," he said softly, reaching up to brush Dean's sweat damp hair off of his face.

"Could you grab a rag and wet it down a little?" Cas asked, turning his attention to Sam for a moment.

Sam nodded, quickly stepping out of the bathroom to grab a wash cloth from their hall closet. He brought it back, wetting it with cool water under the sink.

"Here you go," he said, handing it to Cas.

"Thank you Sam," Cas said, taking the rag and pressing it to Dean's forehead, to which Dean audibly sighed, leaning forward into Cas's hand. Cas gently dragged the rag over Dean's face before setting it on the back of his neck.

"He's burning up," Cas said to Sam.

Sam nodded, "I know," he winced.

"What did you say his fever was?" Cas asked.

"It was over 102 when I checked," Sam said, already reaching for the thermometer to check it again. He cringed when the screen showed 103.1, turning it around to show Cas.

Sam and Cas exchanged a glance, silently asking if this warranted a trip to the hospital. After a moment, Sam shook his head. For people like them, with no real identity, no insurance, the hospital wasn't really an option unless it was life or death. They weren't there yet.

"He needs to drink something. Maybe you'll have better luck than I did," Sam said, grabbing the glass of water from the counter and handing it to Cas.

"Dean? How are you doing?" Cas asked.

"Don't feel good Cas," Dean groaned, his words slurred.

"I know," Cas sighed, "Maybe you should try drinking some water, it might help," he tried.

"Mmm no," Dean shook his head.

"You're dehydrated Dean, it will help," Cas tried again.

"I can't," Dean rasped, sounding so small.

"Come on darling, just one drink. For me?" Cas practically pleaded.

Sam's eyes went wide at the pet name, but he didn't say anything. Even though he'd known for years now that this was... whatever it was... but seeing it so openly like this was still kind of a shock.

But apparently Cas's pleading was enough. Dean finally gave a hesitant nod. Cas carefully brought the cup to Dean's lips and tilted it slowly to give Dean a small sip.

They all waited apprehensively to see if the water would stay down, and it seemed like Dean's body was at least willing to accept one single sip of water. Sam counted it as a win for now.

"We still need to get his fever down," Cas said, frowning as he pressed the back of his hand to Dean's cheek, feeling the warmth.

Sam nodded, sighing, as he tried to think of anything else they could do. He racked his brain to try and come up with what Dean would've done if the roles had been reversed. That was when he remembered.

"When I was really sick during the trials, I got a super high fever and passed out this one time, so Dean put me in a cold bath. I think it worked cause I remember waking up and being a lot more coherent," Sam explained.

"Let's try it," Cas nodded in agreement.

Sam reached over to pull the stopper on the tub and turn on the water. He remembered reading somewhere that you shouldn't put a person with a fever in a cold bath, cause it can cause shock or something, but it just needed to be a little cooler than their body temperature. So Sam adjusted the temperature until the water felt lukewarm, then waited as the tub filled.

"Alright, I think that should be cool enough but hopefully not too cold," Sam said.

"Okay, help me move him so I can get up," Cas said.

Sam moved to stand in front of his brother, looping his arms under Dean's. He pulled him forward just enough so that Cas could slide out from behind him, then gently leaned him against the wall.

"Hey Dean," Cas said softly, crouching down in front of Dean to be at his eye level.

Dean cracked an eye open, "Cas I'm scared," he whispered.

Cas closed his eyes for a second, heart aching for Dean. Sam was right, he'd never seen Dean like this either.

"I know," Cas said sadly, reaching up to cup Dean's face in his hand.

"Why is this happening to me?" Dean asked, a tear slipping down his cheek.

"Your body is just recovering from being Michael's vessel. You'll be okay, I promise. I'll take care of you, okay?" Cas said, swiping the tear away with his thumb.

"Okay," Dean said quietly.

"We're gonna put you in the bath now, to get your fever down alright? It's going to be uncomfortable, but you'll feel better after," Cas explained.

Dean nodded, eyes looking glazed in a way that told Sam he wasn't really even comprehending what Cas was saying. He'd probably go along with anything right now.

"Lift your arms," Cas instructed gently, pulling Dean's t-shirt off.

That was when Sam realized that Cas was going to be taking his brothers clothes off. When Sam had been sick, Dean had put him in the bathtub with his clothes on. But Cas didn't need to do that because Cas was Dean's... person? Close enough.

"Uh, Cas, do you, uh-? Sam asked, trailing off.

"I got it, Sam," Cas nodded, understanding that Sam was asking if he was needed here.

Sam didn't need to be told twice, quickly exiting the bathroom and shutting the door behind him. Although he was very worried about his brother, he didn't need to see him naked and being helped into the bathtub by his... angel? No, that one doesn't seem quite right.

Once Sam was gone, Cas helped Dean to his feet. Dean was shaky, but Cas held tightly around his back, keeping him steady as he pushed Dean's sweats and boxers down off his hips.

"Alright, step up with this leg," Cas instructed, tapping Dean's right hip.

Obediently, Dean lifted his leg and stepped into the water. When Cas tapped his other hip, he shifted his weight - with Cas's help - and stepped fully into the bathtub.

"No, Cas-" Dean gasped as Cas lowered him down into the water.

"I know, I know it's cold, I'm sorry. We have to bring your fever down though," Cas explained, reaching out to run his fingers through Dean's hair.

"C-cas," Dean said through chattering teeth, already shivering with lips tinged blue.

"I'm right here," Cas said, quickly grabbing one of Dean's hands in his. Dean leaned toward him, head coming to rest on Cas's shoulder.

"I've got you," Cas continued, draping an arm over Dean's shoulders, feeling how violently he was shivering. Cas's heart ached. He could hardly stand it, but he knew he needed to leave Dean in there for at least a couple minutes to get his temperature down.

When Dean let out a muffled sob into Cas's now very damp shoulder, he decided that was enough.

"Let's get you out okay?" he said, standing up. Dean whimpered, reaching for him. "You're okay," Cas said, wrapping an arm around Dean to help him out of the water.

It was even harder getting him out than it had been getting him in, because now he was shaking violently. But Cas managed to get him out and dried off. Dean was still shivering when Cas ran to grab him a fresh pair of clothes.

When Cas returned though, the shivering had slowed, and some color had returned to his lips and face. His eyes were clearer too, more aware.

"Cas?" he asked, as Cas set the clothes down on the counter.

"Hello Dean," Cas said, reaching out to cup Dean's cheek with his hand. The warmth was still there, but he no longer felt like he was burning with fever. "How are you feeling?" he asked.

Dean sighed, closing his eyes as he leaned into Cas's touch for a moment. "Not great," he answered, opening his eyes to look up at Cas.

"You're pretty sick," Cas nodded, moving to run his fingers through Dean's hair before reaching over to grab the clothes he'd grabbed for Dean.

Although shaky, Dean was able to stand and get himself dressed, which was a large improvement over the state he'd been in just a few minutes ago.

"What happened?" Dean asked, sinking down heavily to sit on the closed toilet lid.

Cas sat down on the edge of the bathtub, facing Dean. "Your fever got so high we had to stick you in a cold bath to bring it down," Cas explained.

"We?" Dean asked.

"Sam," Cas said, "I wasn't here this morning but he called saying you were really sick."

Dean was quiet for a minute, processing. "So Sam saw me...?" Dean trailed off, not wanting to say what he was thinking.

"Naked? No. He took care of you until I got back but I sent him away before undressing you," Cas said.

Dean winced. "So he knows now I guess," he said.

"Dean, he already knew," Cas told him.

"What? Did you tell him?" Dean snapped, although there wasn't much bite. He was still too tired.

"He came to check on you one night, when you were having a nightmare, yelling woke him up. And he saw me laying with you. Once you'd calmed down I went to talk to him. Tell him that I'd just woken up from the yelling and come to check on you too. But Dean, he already knew. Said he'd suspected it for years," Cas explained.

"Oh," Dean said, confused. "I thought we kept it hidden well enough," he said.

"Apparently not," Cas chuckled.

"Well I guess there's no use hiding it now," Dean said.

"I guess not," Cas agreed, "Now let's get you to bed, your body needs rest to heal," he said, standing up and holding his hands out to Dean.

Dean hesitated, "I still feel a little nauseous."

"I'll put a bin next to the bed in case you need to be sick again," Cas said.

Dean thought for a moment, then seemed to accept that answer. He grabbed Cas's hands, letting himself be pulled to his feet. Dean swayed, vision darkening for a moment. But Cas was right there, wrapping an arm around Dean's waist to hold him steady as his vision cleared. Jesus. Dean's legs felt like jello, he wasn't sure he could make it to his bedroom.

"We'll take it nice and slow," Cas said, as if reading Dean's mind.

With Cas's hand pressed against Dean's lower back and his other hand on Dean's arm, they made their way slowly down the hallway to Dean's room. Cas helped Dean lay down, pulling the quilt up over him. Then he grabbed the trash can from the corner of the room and set it next to the bed, just in case.

Cas sat down at the edge of the bed, carding his fingers through Dean's hair. "Close your eyes," he said.

Dean sighed, but did as he was told. "I'm okay Cas. I can feel you worrying," he said.

"I'm allowed to worry about you," Cas answered. "And you're allowed to let me."

Dean didn't say anything. He wanted to protest, honestly, but he was so tired. His stomach still ached and his head pounded, but sleep pulled at him anyway. And so for once in his life, Dean gave in, and let someone else worry about him for a change.

[1heartfanfics]

Hello everyone, it’s been a while! I’m the past 2ish months I have graduated from my doctoral program, moved across the country, taken my board certification exams, and started my new job. So I’ve been very busy.

I am currently working on a destiel fic though! But I can’t promise how long it’ll take me to finish it.

[1heartfanfics]

Could I get a 911 Buck x Reader request.

I don't write imagines/reader pairing fics but I would be happy to write something for a 911 pairing like buck/eddie.

[1heartfanfics]

Here is the missing moments fic for 9-1-1 lone star (*spoilers*)

Set during 5x9 when Carlos gets shot. Since we didn’t get to see panicked TK rush to the hospital to see him. This is canon compliant mostly but I took some liberties since they didn't give us much information.

Also the poll on which version to write was a tie so I just chose to write the one where Carlos is taken to a hospital and TK finds out and goes to see him because that feels more realistic and also easier to write.

Authors note: there are definitely several plot holes here like TK happens to have his passport on him while at work and that he's able to get a flight to Mexico immediately but just roll with it.

TK was in somewhat of a haze as he walked back toward the ambulance, heading toward the drivers seat on autopilot. He didn't even notice that Nancy had beat him to it until he literally bumped into her.

"You're driving?" TK asked, blinking in surprise. Usually they stuck to the same person driving all day, which so far had been TK.

"Yes. No offense TK, but you are not focused right now," she said, gesturing for him to go around to the passenger side.

TK sighed, knowing she was right, and walked around to get into the passenger seat. Nancy pulled out of the ambulance bay at the hospital, where they'd just dropped a patient off, and headed back toward the station.

"So, you gonna tell me what's going on?" she asked.

TK sighed again, looking out the window to avoid her pointed look. She could always tell when he was lying, so it was no use anyway.

"Carlos texted me a couple hours ago. Said they found who killed his Dad and they're chasing him down to the border," he explained.

"Oh my gosh, wow, that's amazing! Isn't it?" Nancy asked, confused why they weren't happy about this.

"Well, I mean yes. Of course it is. I just haven't heard from him since then," TK said.

"Well if they're at the border he might not have service. Especially if they're on the Mexico side," Nancy answered, always the rational one.

"I know, I know. It's just that... things have just been weird between us lately so I feel like I don't even know what's going on with him right now and the text was so vague..." TK trailed off. "I don't know, I just have a weird feeling," he added.

"I'm sure he's fine. He's probably just busy," Nancy reassured him.

"Thanks Nance, you're probably right," TK agreed, even though he wasn't sure if he really believed it.

They made it back to the station and started to clean up and restock the rig in preparation for when the next call came in. TK was grabbing a box of syringes to refill their supply when his phone rang in his pocket. He pulled it out quickly, hoping it was Carlos, but instead it was a number he didn't recognize. He frowned at his screen, the phone number looked weird.

"That's a Mexico number. Maybe it's Carlos," Nancy spoke, startling TK as she appeared over his shoulder.

"Shit," TK mumbled as he pressed accept. "Hello?"

"Hola, is this Mr. Tyler Strand?" a voice asked. TK's blood ran cold.

"This is him," TK answered, his tongue feeling like cotton in his mouth. He could feel Nancy looking at him, realizing that it wasn't Carlos on the other end.

"My name is Dr. Gonzalez, I am calling from the Laredo Hospital in Nuevo Laredo. We have texas ranger Carlos Reyes here and you are listed as his emergency contact. May I ask what your relation is to Mr. Reyes?" the man explained.

TK felt his heart sink to his stomach and his chest tightened. "I'm his husband," he answered.

"Gracias Mr. Strand. We need your consent to take Mr. Reyes into surgery," the doctor continued.

"Y-yes. Of course. Whatever you have to do," TK answered quickly. He felt like he couldn't breathe. "What happened to him?" he asked, heart pounding.

"I'm afraid he was shot in the abdomen. He is stable for now but we need to take him to surgery quickly," the doctor explained.

"Okay, yeah, yes. I consent. Thank you," TK fumbled over his words. The doctor was saying something else but TK couldn't hear him anymore, his ears were ringing and everything was spinning. He felt like he was going to pass out. He dropped the phone and reached a hand out, hoping to find something to grab onto so he could steady himself.

Then there were hands on his back and his arm. He was gently led over to the edge of the ambulance and forced to sit down. The ringing in his ears lessened and his eyes focused on his dad crouched down in front of him.

"Hey, son, what happened?" Owen asked, face creased with worry.

"It's Carlos. He's at a hospital in Mexico, they said he got shot Dad they're taking him to surgery," TK said numbly.

"Okay." Owen said calmly, although his own heart was pounding but he needed to keep it together for TK. "It's gonna be okay. We're gonna figure out how to get you to Mexico, alright?. Hang tight," Owen said, patting TK's knee.

Then suddenly his dad was gone and instead Nancy was sitting next to him, grabbing one of his hands in hers.

"He'll be okay," she said quietly, squeezing TK's hand.

"He has to," TK whispered, feeling tears start to fall down his cheeks. He needed Carlos to be okay. They couldn't end like this.

The next several minutes, or it could have been an hour, were a blur. Before TK knew it he was in the car with his Dad on the way to the airport.

They walked in together, TK silent as his dad walked them up to the front desk to try and figure something out. He was grateful that his Dad had come with him as it took everything he had just to focus on breathing.

"Hi, um, when is the soonest flight you have to Laredo, Mexico?" Owen asked.

"Let's see, there's one that boards in about 20 minutes but it looks like that one's full and then the next one leaves at 6pm tonight," the lady answered.

"Shit," Owen muttered under his breath. "Is there any way you could get him on the first flight?" he asked, gesturing toward TK. "His husband is a Texas ranger and is in the hospital down there after getting shot," Owen explained.

The lady hesitated, and Owen figured there was nothing she could do. It was worth a shot though. But then she picked up a walkie-talkie and spoke into it, "Jim? Hey I've got a firefighter here who's trying to get down to Laredo, his husband is a Texas Ranger who's been shot. Can you make an announcement?" she asked, then turned her attention back to Owen.

"I can't make any promises, but we're going to ask if anyone is willing to give up their seat and take the later flight. Sit tight for a minute and we'll see," she said with a hopeful smile.

"Thank you," Owen nodded, turning to face TK. "We'll figure it out alright, we're gonna get you there one way or another," he reassured him, reaching out to give his shoulder a squeeze. TK nodded, reaching a hand up to swipe at the tears that kept falling. He was terrified.

Then the walkie squawked with a response from the other end.

"We got a taker so there's one seat open,"

Owen let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. Within seconds the lady had printed out a ticket and handed it to Owen, telling him to hurry as the gates would close pretty soon.

"Thank you so so much," Owen said over his shoulder, already whisking TK toward the security line, which thankfully was pretty short.

"Alright son, here's your ticket. You're gonna have to run cause you've only got like 15 minutes before they board but you can make it. Just try to keep breathing, and call me when you get there," Owen said, grabbing TK by the shoulders to force TK to look at him.

"Thanks Dad," TK mumbled, nodding. Then he pulled away and headed toward security. He forced himself to take a couple of deep breaths and try to snap out of it. He felt like he was floating, moving through a fog, but he needed to pull it together. He was on his own now.

He managed to get himself through security and run to the gate just in time to board. That had given him something to focus on other than imaging worst case scenarios of the condition Carlos was in. But now that he was just sitting on the plane, those thoughts came rushing right back in.

"Nervous flyer?"

TK jumped, the voice pulling him out of the nightmare going on in his mind. He turned to find the older woman who was sitting next to him looking at him. Then he looked down and realized he had a white knuckle grip on the arm rest and finally put the pieces together.

"Uh, not usually no... just got some bad news a little bit ago," TK shrugged, forcing what he hoped was a smile.

"Oh no, I'm sorry. I hope everything's alright," the woman said quickly.

"I hope so too," TK sighed, forcing himself to let go of the armrest and relax his hands. "My husband is a Texas Ranger and I just got a call from a hospital in Laredo. Apparently he was shot," TK said. He wasn't sure why he was telling her this, but he felt like he might explode if he kept spiraling in his head.

"Oh my goodness!" the woman gasped, "I hope he's okay. I will pray for him," she said, reaching over to squeeze TK's arm.

He ended up talking to her for most of the flight. He explained about Carlos's father being shot and how he'd been trying to track down the killer ever since. He even talked about how he wanted to adopt Jonah but Carlos still wasn't sure. As weird as it might have been to talk to a random women on a plane, it felt good to talk about it. Get it all out in the open for once. Plus, he'd probably never see this lady again so it didn't matter anyway. And it helped pass the time.

Before he knew it they were landing, which made his anxiety shoot back up again. He was back to reality. The reality where Carlos had been shot and TK had no idea what condition he was going to find him in when he got to the hospital.

Once they got off the plane, TK said goodbye to the woman and thanked her for listening to him ramble on for the whole flight. Then he called a taxi and headed for the hospital, terrified of what he might find when he got there.

A few minutes later, TK called his Dad from the hospital waiting room.

"TK?" Owen asked quickly, having picked up on the second ring. He'd probably been waiting by the phone, knowing about when TK would have arrived.

"Hey, I made it to the hospital. Carlos is still in surgery. All I know is that he came in with a GSW to the upper abdomen and a collapsed lung, but dad-" TK cut himself off with a sob.

"Son listen to me, okay? He's gonna be alright. Carlos is strong, you know that, he'll pull through," Owen tried to reassure his son, wishing he could be there with him. He couldn't imagine what it was like sitting in that waiting room alone.

"But what if he isn't dad? I don't even remember the last thing I said to him or the last time I told him I loved him," TK cried, turning in his chair toward the wall, away from the prying eyes of people who were trying - and failing - not to stare.

"He knows that you love him TK. And you'll tell him again as soon as he gets out of surgery," Owen said. He wanted to ask what was going on, it sounded like TK and Carlos might be going through a rough patch, but he knew that now wasn't the time. He was about to keep insisting that Carlos would be fine when TK suddenly spoke.

"Tyler Strand?" a muffled voice spoke in the background of the call.

"Shit, dad I have to go I'll call you back,"

And then he was gone. Carlos must be out of surgery. Owen poured himself another drink, bouncing his leg nervously as he waited for TK's next call. He needed Carlos to be okay too. Owen knew that it would wreck TK if he wasn't. Losing Carlos was something he might not make it back from.

"Is he okay?" TK asked, quickly rushing over to the nurse who'd called his name.

"Mr. Reyes is out of surgery and in post-op recovery now. There were some complications in surgery but Dr. Gonzalez was able to successfully finish the repair," the nurse answered, leading them down several hallways.

"Oh thank god," TK breathed out, feeling like he could truly breath for the first time in hours.

"This is his room. He's not awake yet but you can go sit with him. Dr. Gonzalez will be by shortly to speak with you and explain more," she said, gesturing toward the door they'd stopped outside of.

"Okay. Thank you," TK nodded.

"Just keep in mind, he's hooked up to lots of wires and machines right now but don't let that scare you. He should wake up in the next couple of hours and a lot of that will be able to go away. His body just needs a little time to rest for right now," she explained.

TK nodded, he knew that Carlos probably had 2 IV lines, an O2 monitor, and an EKG hooked up, as well as being on a ventilator. But when he pushed the door open he still wasn't prepared to see Carlos looking like that.

"Oh baby," TK whispered, feeling tears stinging his eyes. Carlos looked so small laying there in the hospital bed. And pale, so pale. As if all the color had drained from him. With a shaky breath TK walked to the side of the bed, taking Carlos's hand in his.

It was warm. His hand was warm. That means he's alive, TK told himself. He brought Carlos's hand up to his lips and kissed it gently.

"I'm right here baby," he said, leaning over to brush his hand on Carlos's cheek, which was also warm. He was okay. Like the nurse said, he's just resting right now, but he'll wake up soon and then the tube will come out and the wires will come off and he'll look like him again.

TK jumped when someone knocked on the door. He turned to see a man in a white coat enter the room, Dr. Gonzalez he assumed.

"Tyler, I'm Dr. Gonzalez, we spoke on the phone," he spoke, holding out his hand to shake TK's.

"Hi, yes, I go by TK but how is Carlos? He's okay?" TK rushed out.

"TK," he amended, "He is okay, but he will have a long road of recovery ahead of him," the doctor answered. "The bullet collapsed his lung, which we were able to reinflate and repair, but he has some broken ribs, so he is at a high risk for a re-collapse. There was also some damage to his liver, which caused some bleeding during surgery, but we were able to repair that as well. We were not able to repair the spleen, so it had to be removed," he explained.

"Okay, okay..." TK said slowly, taking a deep breath as he processed the information. No spleen was okay. You can live relatively normally without a spleen. That's okay.

"So, he will be at a higher risk of infection and will require a strict vaccination schedule and more careful monitoring of minor illnesses, but generally will live a normal life. And we can discuss all of this in more detail once Carlos is able to be a part of the conversation," Dr. Gonzalez continued.

"Right, of course. Thank you, for saving him. Thank you," TK said, fighting back tears again.

The doctor smiled and gave a humble nod, "Well I'll leave you alone to be with him and will be back whenever he wakes up."

TK's phone rang then, scaring him out of his thoughts. He pulled the phone out of his pocket, it was his dad. Right, he'd hung up suddenly in the middle of their conversation.

"Dad, he's okay!" TK said immediately upon answering.

"Oh god, that's amazing son!" Owen breathed a sign of relief just as TK had done a few minutes ago.

"They repaired his lung and they had to take out his spleen and a small piece of his liver but he's going to be okay," TK explained.

"I'm so glad to hear that TK. How are you holding up now?" Owen asked.

"A lot better. But I'll feel even better once he wakes up," TK said, moving to sit beside his husband, grabbing one of Carlos's in his.

"I can imagine. I've been there," Owen said, thinking back to the several times it had been him sitting beside the bed with TK in it. "But hopefully he'll wake up soon. And I'm on the next flight out there so I'll see you soon okay?" Owen reassured him.

"Okay. Thanks Dad, see you soon," TK replied, hanging up the phone.

And then he was alone again. The room was quiet, except for the beeping of the monitor and the hiss of the ventilator. TK sat and watched the rise and fall of Carlos's chest. Felt the pulse in Carlos's wrist thrumming against his fingers. Carlos was alive. He was okay.

TK didn't realize he'd fallen asleep until he was startled awake by a flailed hand bumping into his cheek. He shot upright in the chair, back stiff, to see Carlos thrashing around in the bed, hands fumbling at the tube in his mouth.

"Need a little help in here!" TK yelled, standing up and leaning forward to grab Carlos's hands, pulling them away from the tubes.

"Hey, hey, Carlos it's me. You're okay," TK leaned over far enough so that Carlos could see him, which instantly calmed him a bit. "You're in the hospital, you were shot. But you're okay. Just relax and they'll get the breathing tube out okay?" TK said quickly as people flooded the room.

TK was quickly shoved out of the way as the nurses and doctors and respiratory therapists worked to extubate Carlos and check that he was breathing okay on his own. Just a couple minutes later, a nurse tapped TK on the arm and gestured with her head to indicate that he could go back in.

"Hi baby," TK said, rushing forward.

"TK," Carlos breathed out, reaching for him.

TK sat at the edge of the bed and leaned over to hug Carlos, careful not to put too much weight on him. Carlos wrapped both arms around TK and clung to him, fingers grasping as the back of his shirt.

"It's okay baby, you're okay, I've got you," TK whispered, running his fingers through Carlos's hair.

"TK what happened?" Carlos asked after a minute, seeming to have calmed down.

"You were shot, chasing a suspect down to the border. We're in a hospital in Mexico. They called me," TK explained, pulling back so they could look at each other.

Carlos looked better already. The decrease in tubes coming out of him was reassuring, plus he had a little more color in his face.

"Oh my god Chief Bridges," Carlos gasped.

"Oh Carlos, I'm so sorry. He didn't make it. He was DOA," TK said, running a hand up and down Carlos's arm.

"What? No. I mean yes. But he- he killed my father TK," Carlos said, tears welling in his eyes.

"What? He- Bridges? Why?" TK fumbled, his brain reeling.

"I'll explain everything later I promise but I just-" Carlos cut himself off with a sob and suddenly all of the questions didn't matter anymore. Not right now.

"Oh baby," TK said softly, leaning forward to gather Carlos up into another hug, holding him as tightly as he dared.

"TK I'm so sorry," Carlos croaked, voice hoarse from crying and his breath still coming in short gasps as he calmed down.

"Baby you have nothing to be sorry for," TK shook his head, confused.

"I know I haven't... been around much lately and everything with Jonah and-" Carlos started rambling.

"Hey," TK cut him off, "We don't need to talk about that right now okay? Right now I'm just so glad that you're okay. And you just need to focus on resting and healing and we will figure the rest out after that," he said, pulling back from the hug slightly to lean his forehead against Carlos's.

"Okay," Carlos breathed out, "I love you."

"I love you too baby. Everything's gonna be okay,"

[emeto-vibes-deactivated20251017]

Colson Baker as Cole ( Taurus 2022 )

[wisteria-lodge]

So my problem with most ‘get to know your character’ questioneers is that they’re full of questions that just aren’t that important (what color eyes do they have) too hard to answer right away (what is their greatest fear) or are just impossible to answer (what is their favorite movie.)  Like no one has one single favorite movie. And even if they do the answer changes.

If I’m doing this exercise, I want 7-10 questions to get the character feeling real in my head. So I thought I’d share the ones that get me (and my students) good results: 

What is the character’s go-to drink order? (this one gets into how do they like to be publicly perceived, because there is always some level of theatricality to ordering drinks at a bar/resturant)

What is their grooming routine? (how do they treat themselves in private)

What was their most expensive purchase/where does their disposable income go? (Gets you thinking about socio-economic class, values, and how they spend their leisure time)

Do they have any scars or tattoos? (good way to get into literal backstory) 

What was the last time they cried, and under what circumstances? (Good way to get some *emotional* backstory in.) 

Are they an oldest, middle, youngest or only child? (This one might be a me thing, because I LOVE writing/reading about family dynamics, but knowing what kinds of things were ‘normal’ for them growing up is important.)

Describe the shoes they’re wearing. (This is a big catch all, gets into money, taste, practicality, level of wear, level of repair, literally what kind of shoes they require to live their life.)

Describe the place where they sleep. (ie what does their safe space look like. How much (or how little) care / decoration / personal touch goes into it.)

What is their favorite holiday? (How do they relate to their culture/outside world. Also fun is least favorite holiday.) 

What objects do they always carry around with them? (What do they need for their normal, day-to-day routine? What does ‘normal’ even look like for them.) 

[1heartfanfics]

New fave trope: sickee reaching out to grab onto caretaker for support as they vomit. And/or caretakers hand on sickees forehead to help hold them up as they vomit. Good shit.

[1heartfanfics]

Would you do a story where Bucky doesn’t feel well, Steve isn’t around and Clint can tell so Clint helps Bucky through the rough parts of the illness till Steve comes back (platonic relationship not romantic)

Warning: depictions of vomit

Bucky isn't sure how long he's been slumped over the toilet when someone knocks on the bathroom door. He feels too weak to say anything, much less get up and open the door. Hopefully it's Steve, home from his mission, and he'll just come in when he gets no response.

"You alright in there?"

Bucky's heart sinks. It's not Steve. His head is still swimming from the last round of vomiting, and everything sounds far away, but he thinks it might be Barton.

There's another knock, then after a moment the door creaks open and knows that whoever it is has peaked their head in, but Bucky keeps his eyes closed.

"Woah, you are definitely not alright,"

Definitely Barton. Bucky cracks an eye open to see Clint crouching down next to him hesitantly. He has one hand held out toward Bucky, as if he wants to help but isn't sure if it's okay for him to do so.

"Sorry," Clint says, pulling his hand back, "I heard you getting sick from out in the hall and I know Steve isn't here so I just wanted to check on you and..." he trails off, unsure of what's allowed here. He doesn't know Bucky well, none of them do. Well, except for Steve of course.

Bucky tries to say 'it's okay', but what comes out is more of a grunt and a groan of discomfort. His stomach is still churning even though he hasn't brought up anything but stomach acid for the last couple of rounds.

"You want me to get you some water?" Clint asks.

Bucky manages to nod from his slumped position, head pillowed on his arm that's resting on the toilet seat. As much as he doesn't want to put anything in his stomach right now, he also knows that he's dehydrated and he needs something to throw up anyway.

Clint nods and disappears from the bathroom. As soon as he's gone though, he's back, which tells Bucky that he's losing time and maybe he's been in here even longer than he thought.

"Here, try a couple small sips," Clint says, holding the glass out as he crouches down beside Bucky again.

"Can't, ngh," Bucky mumbles, his tongue feeling like lead. He's so dizzy and hot. He doesn't think he can sit up.

"Oh jeez, alright. Bucky- Can I call you Bucky?" Clint asks, he knows that's what Steve calls him but he isn't sure if they're good enough friends for that. Bucky makes another small noise that Clint decides to take as a yes.

"Okay Bucky, is it alright if I touch you?" he asks.

"Hmm," Bucky hums, which Clint also hopes is a yes. He moves forward to wrap an arm around Bucky's shoulders, gently pulling him back away from the toilet to lean against the wall.

"Here, small sips," Clint says, holding the glass up to Bucky's lips, which he now realizes are so incredibly dry. He takes a small sip of water, which feels nice in his mouth and throat, which are dry and raw from vomiting. It doesn't feel particularly nice when it hits his stomach though. He groans, slumping forward.

"Woah, alright big buy," Clint quickly sets the glass down and catches Bucky around the chest to keep him from face planting on the floor. He pushes him back against the wall.

They sit there silently for a few minutes, Bucky managing to keep the water down, before Clint gets him to try another sip. Then another.

It does help. Bucky doesn't feel quite so dizzy anymore, and he can hold his head up.

"How we doing?" Clint asks. He's moved to sit on the floor with Bucky, about a foot away to give him space but close enough to catch him if he pitches forward again.

"Lil bit better," Bucky mumbles, "Thanks," he adds, trying to give Barton a smile but it probably looks more like a grimace.

"Good, good. You, uh, want me to help you back to your room? So you can lay down?" he offers.

Bucky shakes his head. His head isn't spinning anymore but his stomach still is. He knows he isn't done.

"Not even with a bucket?" Clint tries again.

But Bucky shakes his head again. He doesn't trust himself enough to not puke all over his bed at this point and that would be even more humiliating than this already is.

"Alright," Clint sighs, "I'll be right back then," he adds, standing up and walking out of the bathroom. This time, Bucky is at least aware that time passes before he returns, carrying a pillow and an armful of blankets.

"Here, this way you can at least lay down in between rounds," Clint explains, laying a couple blankets down on the floor to form a makeshift bed and placing the pillow at one end.

Bucky blinks in surprise, not used to having anyone but Steve take care of him. It had been just them taking care of eachother for as long as he could remember.

"Go ahead, I'll cover you up with this one," Clint nods, gesturing to the blanket that still remains in his hand.

Silently, Bucky carefully maneuvers himself to lay down on the blanket, his arms shaking from the effort of lowering himself down. The feeling of his head hitting the cool pillow does feel amazing though, and then there's a blanket draped over him and a hand on his back, rubbing gentle circles.

Bucky stiffens for a second, more surprised than anything.

"This okay?" Clint asks, his hand stilling.

"Mhm," Bucky hums in response. He honestly feels too sick to care at this moment. "Jus don' tell anyone but Steve about this," he adds with as much intensity as he can muster, which isn't much.

"My lips are sealed," Clint agrees, chuckling softly. Then he adds, "I'll stay till Steve gets here."

And as much as he'd never admit it out loud, Bucky is glad for that.

[1heartfanfics]

Okay so the missing moment for TK coming to the hospital after Carlos got shot in season 5 won the poll but I have another question.

I have two ideas of how to write this:

1. TK gets a call while on shift since he’s Carlos’s emergency contact and Owen helps him rush to the airport to fly down to the border and be with Carlos.

2. TK and Nancy get requested for a long distance call and drive down to the border to realize that they’re treating Carlos.

I realize that the 2nd one may not be realistic and also I do not know the geography of Texas at all.

Which version should I write?

1. TK rushes to the hospital to see Carlos

2. TK treats Carlos and gets him to a hospital

Voting ended onMar 12, 2025

[1heartfanfics]

Not sure if this is something you'd want to write, but I've had this head cannon for a while.

Steve accidentally overeating post mission because he's exhausted and starving. He just sort of zones out and then realizes he over did it. Bucky wants to give him crap about it, but Steve just looks like such a sad kicked puppy (maybe he's banged up from the mission) so he looks after Steve. Lots of fluffy Stucky for the soul.

"Oh hey, I didn't realize you were back already," Bucky says as he enters the apartment, surprised to see Steve laying on the couch.

"Finished the mission early," Steve shrugged.

Bucky set his stuff down, having just returned from a training session at Stark tower, then walked over to sit on the edge of the couch in front of Steve.

"Woah, what happened?" Bucky asked, reaching out to cup Steve's cheek, which was bruised, reddish/purple blooms already forming. Not to mention the stitched cut on the side of his forehead, the black eye, and the split lip. And it's not as if Steve bruised easily. In fact, he rarely bruised at all, ever.

"Things went a little sideways for a while," Steve shrugged again, turning away from Bucky.

"You need some ice or something?" James asked, already heading toward the kitchen without waiting for a response. He came back a moment later, holding out a back of frozen peas wrapped in a towel. Steve accepted, holding the bag to the side of his face.

"Thanks," he mumbled.

Bucky frowned, "Something else bugging you? You seem off."

Steve shrugged. His favorite response to Bucky's questions tonight apparently.

"Hey, talk to me," Bucky said, voice going softer. A voice reserved for Steve and Steve only.

"It's stupid," Steve sighed, rolling his eyes, "I'm fine," he added.

"Yeah," Bucky scoffed, "You look like you're fine," he said sarcastically.

"Okay, okay... Mission went bad, I was sore and exhausted and starving when I got home so I just grabbed some snacks and watched TV but I zoned out or something and ate more than I meant to and well-" Steve explained quickly, then gestured down at his stomach.

"Oh." Bucky said, realizing that Steve's shirt was pushed slightly up, revealing an abnormally bloated stomach compared to his usual 6 pack abs, one hand resting protectively over his abdomen. "You got a tummyache, huh?" he smirked, elbowing Steve playfully.

Steve winced, "Please don't, I'm really full," Steve said, face flushing red. He wasn't used to being vulnerable like this. It used to happen all the time when they were young, before the war, but now? Now he was usually the one taking care of Buck.

"Right, sorry, um - do you need anything?" Bucky asked, immediately feeling bad for teasing.

"I'll be okay," Steve shook his head, "I just feel like an idiot."

"Hey, it's alright. It happens to the best of us," Bucky said, reaching out to ruffle Steve's hair. "You want me to get you some pepto?" he asked.

Steve just shrugged again, avoiding Bucky's eyes, embarrassed. Bucky sighed, feeling even worse now for giving Steve a hard time.

"I'll be right back babe," he said, squeezing Steve's leg as he stood up. He grabbed the pepto and ibuprofen, for Steve's beat up face, from the bathroom and a can of sprite from the fridge.

"Here, take these and drink up, it'll help," Bucky said as he returned.

Steve obediently took the pepto and dry-swallowed the ibuprofen, but he didn't take the sprite.

"It'll help settle your stomach," Bucky said, holding it out to Steve again.

"I don't want to put anything else into my stomach," Steve shook his head.

"I know darling, but you've probably got some gas in there and this'll help get it out," Bucky said, placing a hand on Steve's stomach, rubbing back and forth gently.

Steve's face flushed red again, but he didn't argue, accepting the sprite from Bucky and taking a sip. Almost immediately he let out a small burp. He covered his mouth quickly, blushing even harder.

"It's alright doll, your belly ain't feeling good. Better out than in right?" Bucky said.

Steve shrugged, but quietly mumbled, "Thanks."

"Course, now how about you sit up for a sec so I can scoot in behind you?" Bucky said, standing up from his perch at the edge of the couch.

Steve silently did as he was told, sitting up enough for Bucky to slide in behind him, stretching his legs on either side of Steve's body and wrapping his arms around his waist to rest on Steve's bloated stomach. When Steve didn't say anything, he slipped his hands under Steve's shirt and started to rub back and forth on his bare skin.

Steve moaned softly, leaning his head back onto Steve's shoulder. After a moment he let out another belch, turning away from Bucky and covering his mouth.

"S'cuse me," he mumbled, stiff in Bucky's arms.

"It's alright, keep going," Bucky encouraged, continuing his belly rub.

Steve responded with another burp, his stomach acting all on its own now, forcing all of the air out.

"There we go," Bucky said softly, still rubbing gentle circles over Steve's stomach.

"Thanks Buck," Steve mumbled, relaxing back against Bucky, finally just deciding to let it happen.

"Anytime Stevie," Bucky said, leaning down to press a kiss into Steve's hair. He had to admit that it was kind of nice to be the one taking care of Steve again, just like the old days.

[1heartfanfics]

Upcoming Fic?

Okay, so I am first going to respond to the ask in my inbox for a Stucky fic, but then I am going to write more Tarlos. What would you like to see? And yes, if you couldn't tell I prefer whumping Carlos lol but if you have specific requests for TK send them in and I'll write that too. Also I'll probably write all of these eventually it's just a matter of which to do first.

~spoilers if you haven't finished the series~

Which Tarlos fic would you like to see?

More Carlos w/ PTSD after being kidnapped

Missing moment: TK coming to see Carlos in the hospital after he gets shot in S5

Missing moment: TK comforting Carlos after he gets suspended

Other? Send me an ask if you have a request!

Voting ended onMar 11, 2025