The Avengers Collaborative Drabble Thread

[Dye]

Hello, and welcome to my (collaborative) Avengers drabble thread! Here's the deal; You've got an Avengers drabble which doesn't have a home (poor thing), you pop it in this thread. It's that simple.

Please, do feel free to contribute. It'd be great if we got a bunch of people to write these drabbles.

I'm aware that the Legend of Korra thread is much like this one in principal. This is a coincidence, I told the idea to RG7 and she mentioned the LoK thread did the same thing. I was shocked. XD Great minds think alike, and all that. *shot for arrogance*

Also, there's no word limit, nor do you have to use the 101 drabble prompt words you're so familiar with. You can use them if you want, I, for example, find 'Science-Fiction' perfect for Steve, or Thor. Any pairing's fine, and all love of Coulson is welcomed with open arms. Gotta love that Son of Coul.

I'll kick-start it with a mild (meaning, if-you-squint) Stony/Superhusbands/StevexTony drabble, which I didn't use a prompt for. Please, enjoy, and contribute your own drabbles! Please, don't be shy!

Fandom: Avengers (Assemble)

Characters: Steve Rogers, Tony Stark, Bruce Banner

Words: 532

"Heh... Ttshou!" Eyes around the tower widened and turned their attention to the source of the sound. There stood was Capt. Steve Rogers, sniffling a little, smiling sheepishly. "Um... Excuse me..." he blushed.

"Bless you, Cap. You okay?" A certain Mr. Stark asked, looking up from the computer.

"Yeah, I'm fine."

A raised eyebrow later, Tony decided on a new project. Quick, easy, done in half an hour. Around that time later, he brought 'Cap' coffee.

"Thanks, Mr. Stark."

"Call me Tony."

Steve took a sip, and made a quizzical face. "Tony, this tastes kinda weird..."

"Oh, just trying a new type of coffee bean." Stark patted Rogers' shoulder, close to his neck. "Well, see ya round, Cap. Keep being awesome." he returned to the lab, and to Bruce Banner's company. A new window opened on the screen. It was a simple, progressive graph. It read a current temperature of 102.8, which was rising slowly. A sigh. 'Just because he's a super-soldier, doesn't make him immune...' Stark thought. 'He really has been overworking himself lately...' The window was re-sized, so that it was more like a widget, giving him a constant feed in the corner of his screen. He continued working, eventually calling Doctor Banner over to his screen to show him blueprints for a self-sustaining energy source to power larger areas, not just Stark Tower, but perhaps the whole of New York. It wasn't long before he noticed the 'widget'.

"Mr. Stark, what's that?"

"Constant temperature reading for Cap."

"......103.1?"

"Yeah, it keeps going up. At this rate, the Capsicle will melt."

"He's sick..."

"I know, genius."

"Why don't you just coddle him?"

"You know what he's like, he'll deny it to the ends of the earth. So. I thought I'd have a little bit of evidence first." He glanced at the graph again, "Man, that medicine I gave him didn't do anything..."

"How did you give him medicine? You just said--"

"I spiked his coffee."

"Oh."

Tony looked at the graph yet again. 103.4. "I'm going to see Cap. See ya later, big guy." he clapped Banner's shoulder, and head toward where he thought he'd be. It was logical, why his temperature was rising so quickly. He went to the Gym. As he got closer, he heard the sound of punches reverberating off the walls. Tony stood at the door, watching Steve punch the living daylights (If it were living, of course) out of a punchbag. It broke.

"Steve, you keep doing that, we'll run out of punching bags." he joked, walking in.

"Always gotta keep in shape - you never know when the next attack'll be."

"Steve. You need to take it easy."

"Why? I'm fine." Cap crossed his arms, looking at Stark. They unfolded slightly as his eyes glazed over, "Hhih.. Tsshuu!"

"Because of that. Like it or not, you're sick."

"It's just dust."

"Yeah, sure, 'cause dust gives you a 103.7-and-rising temp. Face it. Everyone gets sick, hell, even I get sick. Chance is a rare thing, but there you go. Something you didn't know about me." Rogers wasn't going to ask how he got that figure, it would just involve electricity and gadgets and more things he didn't understand.

"Heh'Ttshuu! Kkshuuh!"

"Right, enough talk, come on. I'll take you to one of Stark Tower's finest bedrooms. Be grateful." Tony took Steve's arm, leading the way, Cap occasionally coughing.

"...Tony?" he finally spoke up, after a particularly nasty coughing fit.

"Yeah?"

"...Thanks."

Edited June 14, 2012 by Daisoku

[Marshmallow Peep]

Steve...

I think I might just melt into a puddle right here... but if I did that, it would make a mess...

Oh well, I'll just fangirl-squeal until I get tired and decide to go to sleep...

[VividBubbles!]

Mmmm, what a good idea. Well, don't mind me. I'll just sit here on my rock and cross my fingers (and toes) for some more drabbles. I also might possibly, maybe, probably write a few drabbles of my own. Anyway, I look forward to seeing this thread take off.

BYE!

[queenie]

Heart is all... I am such a Cap fangirl, I love this so so so so so so so much I just. Can't.

[serotonin]

Cap is my favorite! And so is Tony! Actually I just love all the Avengers. *fistfuls of gleefetti*

AND I LOVE SUPERHUSBANDS SLKFJDS:LJKE

This is good incentive to get my fingers typing on the superhusbands (WITH BABY PETER) drabble I was thinking about...

[MusicaDiabolos]

Oh wow this thread is the best thing to happen to me in a while...looking forward to reading everyone's drabbles

[Garnet]

AKLJfhsdjkshd NO NO NO DON'T ENCOURAGE ME. YOU'RE AN ENABLER. Now I'll just have to torture everyone.

And b'awww Cap! So cute <3 I love Tony drugging his coffee haha.

[snifflechick]

Eeeeeeee. Cap!!! I'm a very happy girl right now.

Thank you!

[Garnet]

This is... hardly a drabble, but it's not a full fic either and I don't think I've seen anyone be mean to Hawkeye yet. LEMME FIX DAT.

Fandom: Avengers

Characters: Clint Barton, Natasha Romanoff, Tony Stark

Words: 1,726

Tony is up and about making a pot of coffee when a hawk lands on his balcony. Maybe it's the last dregs of the headcold still dulling his senses, but he almost drops the freshly ground beans in surprise at the slight tap-tap on the window and the glance up to see Clint Barton standing there.

"Jesus," he mutters to himself, but goes back to fiddling with the coffee maker. "JARVIS, open the door for him." He has no desire to talk to anyone right now, but Hawkeye isn't much of a talker.

The AI obliges with a polite "yes, sir" and a moment later, the balcony doors are sliding open and Clint is striding with purpose towards the kitchen. Tony likes him just fine, but is still wondering how he even got up here. He's also grateful that he's mostly dressed.

"There are elevators, Barton. And it's like nine in the morning, what the hell."

Hawkeye shrugs. He's carrying a small metal attache, and Tony narrows his eyes, idly considering if he can get the Iron Man suit down that small.

"Don't come over here," he warns when Clint gets past the living room. The agent stops in surprise.

"So much for that offer of the tower always being open?" He asks. Tony rolls his eyes.

"Still stands. But I'm sick, we're sick. You don't want this, trust me. Stay back." He sniffles thickly for emphasis, and enjoys Clint's expression of mild disgust. "Some kind of hideous superplague."

"It looks like a headcold."

"Superplague," Tony corrects with a sniff and sets the coffeemaker to brewing a proper cup.

"I'll take my chances, I don't get sick much."

Tony rolls his eyes again, this time with greater emphasis. "Now, where have I heard that before?" Clint gives him a curious look, but he waves it off and points to the case he's bearing. "What's that?"

Clint sets it on the counter, but doesn't open it. "Dossier from Fury. Something new."

Tony arches a brow at that. "Already?"

"It's been a couple months..."

"I wasn't entirely sure we'd passed our 'road test'," Tony shrugs.

"Apparently. Anyway, this is just background information for now. Doesn't make a lick of sense to me, but he wants you and Dr. Banner to look it over."

While the coffee is brewing, Tony turns and rests the small of his back against the counter, arms folded. "Will do."

"Sooner rather than later," Clint suggests, and Tony wishes he had the sinus clarity to give a derisive snort.

"Yeah, I'll pencil you in," he says wryly instead. "Seriously, we'll keep in touch, not up for doing much besides languishing in bed and reading files anyway," he grumbles.

Clint looks like he's reconsidering his bravery in the face of illness the more he hears about it. That's good, because Tony is about done with socializing.

"You know where to find us."

"Uh-huh. I mean this in the most loving way, Legolas, but beat it before you catch this. I feel a sneeze coming on."

That seems to finally do the trick, as Clint turns to make an egress. At least he's headed for the elevator rather than the balcony. "Yeah, yeah. Feel better, Stark," he calls over a shoulder, and is gone while Tony is still blinking in surprise.

----------------------------------------

Two days later, and he's pretty sure that Natasha is ready to throw him under a bus.

"Barton, if you do that one more time," she hisses, letting the threat finish itself.

It's not the first time today that his explosive sneezing has caused her to miss her shot, but sadly she's still doing better than him in terms of overall accuracy. They're the only two on the firing range today, and Clint is privately glad of it, because nobody else is here to see the marksman completely fuck up his marks. Well, nobody but Natasha, whose expressions are a little funny when he surprises her. Mostly terrifying. But funny too.

"Heh, sorry. They sneak up on me," he sniffles, turning to mash his nose into one shoulder in an attempt to rub away the encore.

It's really pure coincidence that his efforts at containment fail just as Natasha is lining up another shot. He barely has time to take a breath and flare his nostrils in preparation, much less warn her.

"ATSSCH!!"

The sharp crack of gunfire overlaps the sound, followed by an angry curse in Russian.

"Barton!"

"Sorry!" He recovers with another bleary sniffle, but can still feel the itch prickling in both sides of his nose, deep and unreachable. Annoying. "Blame Stark, he gave this to me."

"Oh, I intend to kill both of you," Natasha grumbles as she unloads her clip and sets the weapon aside, finally giving up on target practice for the day. "I don't know how you got it so bad, though. What did you do, make out with him?"

"I swear I just stood in his kitchen, the guy wasn't even coughing! I didn't think he was serious about the superplague thi-- thing..." As if sensing that his partner has thrown in the towel, his nose twitches frantically and he ducks his head down in doubletime. "AHTSCCHH! -- AHTSSH-U!!"

"Bless you," Natasha sighs at last. She looks at him dubiously as he straightens up and plugs a thumb and forefinger to his nostrils, wriggling hard in an attempt to quell the tickle. No amount of sneezing within the past couple days has seemed to touch that persistent sensation, but violent rubs from his gloved fingertips just make the skin raw and chapped. Lose-lose situation.

"You look horrible," she deadpans.

He sniffs and shrugs. "I feel horrible."

She sighs and gestures to the target far off down the range. "Were you even hitting it?"

Clint sniffles again. His other hand is still occupied with his bow, so he has nothing free to wipe his eyes with. "I doubt it. Reel 'em in, let's see."

Natasha smacks the button to initiate the pully system, drawing both targets back from their execution points. While she's been blowing holes in traditional paper targets for the better part of the afternoon, Clint's more resembles a ballistics dummy, pincushioned with arrows in several vital places. Still, he knows he'd fired far more than are actually on the body, which means they're laying forlorn at the end of the range somewhere. Great.

Natasha leans in to study the placement of arrows, and even she can see that he's horribly off. A man who can hit the wings off a mosquito at three hundred yards...

She frowns. "We have a mission tonight..."

Clint lowers his hand to test whether his sinuses have stabilized at all during the last three minutes. For a moment, everything is clear, and then the buzzing tickle returns and his lower lip quivers. Nope.

"Huh-AHTSCCHH! ...-HETSCHH'U!!"

It takes him a bit to recover from that one, vision swimming as he sniffs hard, then coughs. Lovely. "Sorry Tasha, think I'm gonna have to sit this one out. It's a quick hit though, yeah? Fury'll give you another agent. One who won't be sneezing through stealth operations, hopefully."

"I don't want another agent," she scowls, and if he didn't know her better he'd almost say she's sulking. But he does know her better. For years before the Avengers initiative, in fact, and even now they keep in close cahoots. Average humans with above average skillsets. It takes a lot of grit to stand toe to toe with big guns like Iron Man and Thor and the Hulk, but it's nice to at least have someone else 'like you' at your back. Or so Clint thinks, anyway, but he won't discuss it aloud and neither will she.

He curls a hand into a loose fist instead and reaches out to tap her arm in a weightless, friendly punch. "Ah, it's just for one night. Try to chew them up and spit them out in one piece, alright?"

He might have said more, but his nose has clearly behaved several seconds too long, and he's forced to take a sudden step back to avoid sneezing on his partner. "UHTSCHHH!!"

Natasha sighs. "Blow your nose, Barton, you're disgusting." It's that dry tone again, but not without affection that perhaps only they can hear.

"Heh, ran out of Kleenex on the first day," he admits with some chagrin as he searched fruitlessly through his pockets. "Haven't replenished yet..."

She groans. "Men... so useless when you're sick." She grabs his wrist and tugs him towards the unisex lockers. "I've got some, come on."

He goes, flinching and rubbing his blunted, almost puggish nose against one shoulder the whole time. By the time he's leaned his bow against a wall and sat down on one of the locker benches, the feature is bright red and practically throbbing. He wonders about the possibility of a nose transplant. It would surely be a quicker solution than waiting this thing out.

Natasha has by now uncovered a little pack of tissues from... somewhere. He's not questioning it, because suddenly she's holding a blissfully soft nest of them to his face just as his breath catches for another sneeze. The fluttering tickle of tissues against his sore nostrils only brings it on faster.

"A-ATSSCHHH!-- AHTTSSHU!!" The bench rattles beneath him for the duration of his quick tremble.

"Blow," Natasha orders, and he feels slightly stupid with her having to mother him like this, because he's actually pretty sure she doesn't have a maternal bone in her body. But it would be worse trying to argue with her, and he also knows she's not squeamish, so he tightens his eyes and complies. Two handfuls of tissues later, his sinuses are so blissfully clear and calm that he actually feels like he can see and think straight. At least for a little while. Natasha straightens, tosses the used tissues into a nearby trashcan, gives him the rest of the packet, and then strips off her gloves and makes some comment about incinerating them.

"Thanks, Tasha," he sighs, dizzy with relief at the sensation of not having to sneeze, even if only for a few minutes. "You're the best."

She scowls, but there's a hint of a smile that he can see flashing there just as she turns away to pack her things. "I know."

[Dye]

Cuuute! Hawkeye is adorable, about time he had a fic/drabble. Wonderful work as always, Garnet! @W@

[pinknose]

:DDD

Do I spy a little reference to your last fic? :3 Sneeeaky~

[queenie]

I like to think of this as a follow-up to the last one, even though they're by different authors. GREAT WORK.

[SweaterWeather]

OWUAAH, I am seriously loving this thread right now (my pants are too, but thats not important...). CAPTAIN! Why do I love seeing you tortured/in denial/punching the shit out of stuff? *sigh* Garnet, I can't really type out a thought that would completely express my awe and love of your writing, but THIS:

He goes, flinching and rubbing his blunted, almost puggish nose against one shoulder the whole time. By the time he's leaned his bow against a wall and sat down on one of the locker benches, the feature is bright red and practically throbbing. He wonders about the possibility of a nose transplant. It would surely be a quicker solution than waiting this thing out.

HJDHIHKSWJHLJKFDHAWKEYEJKLFDSETCETCETC!! I've been in love with Jeremy Renner's nose since......well, a very very long time. Having it described like this was, well, just perfect. Keep up the AMAZING drabbles guys! Maybe I'll have the courage to post one which is very unlikely but, who knows!

[Garnet]

Hahaha, thank you! And yes, these (at least the ones I write) will probably all be the same horrible continuuity in my head. And if they fit into others, that works too

and HNNGHGHG Grey, right?! I almost always go for long, pointy, beak-ish noses but once somebody pointed his out to me I was creeper admiring through the whole movie. It's just so cute. WANT TO TOUCH~

[serotonin]

baby drabble? drabblet? wild tenses? IDK SUPERHUSBANDS *pushes words at*

Fandom: Avengers (superhusbands!movieverse/AU)

Characters: Steve Rogers, Tony Stark, Peter Parker

Words: 774

Tony walks into the bedroom, fingers loosening the knot of the tie at his throat. The infinitely long -- countable, though if you asked him it'd felt pretty uncountable -- conference he'd just stepped off the Stark Industries jet from had been officially over for three hours now. And he wouldn't hesitate to admit that he'd spent, oh, approximately 99.9% of those hours getting very excited about seeing his husband for the first time in a week, because even Starkcams weren't as awesome as real life.

Tony is very smart, genius-level smart, okay fine super-genius-level-smart, no need to twist his arm like that, so the picture that resolves itself after the few seconds his eyes take to adjust is decoded more or less on sight and he relcutantly lets go of his hopes for the night.

Steve, in one of his ubiquitous white t-shirts and a pair of Tony's MIT sweats, is out like a light on the king-size bed, body curled protectively even in sleep around the lump of two year old. The lump of two year old stirs as the light from the cracked door hits him and Tony holds himself very still, which takes a fair amount of concentration for him. Maybe Tony's just at the beginning or end of a sleep cycle, because Peter's tufted head emerges from the sheets and turns towards him. Before Peter can say anything, Tony is at the side of the bed in two long strides, holding him arms out in the universal sign for hug. A beaming grin spreads across Peter's cheeks and Tony swoops in, picking him up and propping him against his hip.

"Let's let Daddy get some sleep, hmm?" he murmurs quietly into Peter's hair, moving on to brush a light kiss on Peter's forehead even as he retreats to the hallway. Peter mumbles something into Tony's side, mashing his face into Tony's jacket to avoid the bright hallway lights. By the time Tony is across the hall and two doors down, he can tell by the increased weight in his arms that Peter's already asleep again. He tucks Peter into bed, takes a minute to check his breathing, and leaves satisfied.

And, of course, by the time he's back in their room, the loss of Peter has pushed Steve back into wakefulness because Steve wakes up at one-time incidents. Well, sort of. It tried, and would undoubtably be unsuccessful, but Tony's pretty sure that Steve's picked up what Peter had. Normally the serum would bite its thumb at such petty viruses, but Tony knows that:

1. He's been out of town for a week.

2. Clint and Natasha left even before him on a SHIELD mission and Bruce left a few days ago for a conference that at least sounded more interesting than "Tony, I am your boss and you are going."

3. Steve had been parenting a sick kid on his own and Steve has a Thing about kids being sick.

Taken together, the data suggested that Steve had let himself get run down enough that even the serum couldn't help him totally fight off this cold.

"Bless," Tony says preemptively, reading the tense muscles in the set of Steve's back and the slight hunch of his shoulders.

Steve tries to whip around to face the unexpected sound, but his body takes over and he pitches forward, sneezing against his hand. "hhh'ESSHHuh!" The soft 'oh, god' that follows almost reflexively, sighed into his wrist, is so quiet that Tony barely catches it. Steve sniffs, once, pressing his nose against hand before completing his turn toward Tony. "Thanks," he says, with an aftertone of surprise for how his voice sounds harsher than usual.

"Coming down with something, champ?" Tony jokes, moving toward the bed and propping a knee upon it, tie now completely undone and hanging around his neck.

"I don't get sick though--" The words are barely out of Steve's mouth before he's seized with a harsh, but mercilessly brief fit of coughs. Tony is smirking a little at the predicted response, but places a gentle hand between Steve's shoulderblades, spreading his fingers slightly and applying light pressure with his fingertips as he lets Steve work it out.

"Yes, totally not sick, all symptoms point to health," Tony deadpans, taking his hand from Steve's back so he can shuck his suit jacket and fling it carelessly over the side of the bed. He decides that Steve still isn't totally awake because the next thing he hears is "But I... heh-iiissch'ue! ehhTSCHHhh! hehh--k'SSCHT!" His plans for the night are most definitely shelved, he thinks, and blesses Steve absently.

---

um wow that was more words than I expected when I started. Also this is like two parts squished together ahaha um I don't know. Also I don't think I've spent enough time in the fandom yet to have anyone's voice down so if you have some feedback or concrit much love will be heaped upon you ^__^

[Mercury]

A/N: wanted to write something with Thor because he doesn’t get much h/c love. It was either him or Hulk (not Bruce. Hulk.), which would have been an interesting challenge, but probably not all that popular This is probably more Thor than Avengers, but I'm justifying it because Loki is being punished for what he did at the end of Avengers. I also linked this to the other prompts very very loosely.

Anyway, Enjoy.

Fandom: Avengers (or Thor, really)

Characters: Thor, Loki

Words: 891

(Norse translations: Nef kvilla = Nose sickness & Styrkr = Strength)

Although the people of Asgard often boasted themselves as Gods, this wasn’t exactly true. Their society was highly advanced in their physical and mental capabilities, but there were by no means gods.

They could get sick, just like any Midgardian, but it was only the advanced viruses of their own realm that could affect them. So when Thor came back from visiting his Avenging friends he found it odd that he immediately fell ill. Surely a meagre human virus did not have the ability to infect the blood of royalty.

“AESSHHHHH! Ah’ETCHHHH!” his nose thundered. He moved to wipe it on his sleeve before he realized that it was still covered in chainmail. His nose was sore and red enough as it was, so he glanced around to make sure no one was looking before reaching for a corner of his cape.

Thor pushed the blond tresses out of his eyes as he descended the bluestone staircase to the dungeons. His brother, Loki, sat peacefully in the centre of his cell and seemed to ignore Thor approach. His eyes were closed and while Thor’s breath was visible in the cold air, Loki appeared unaffected.

It caused Thor’s nose to run and he sniffed heavily.

“That is repulsive.” Loki opened his eyes slowly, “Is listening to your sniffling a new part of father’s punishment?”

“Dow.”

Loki raised an eyebrow, so Thor gave another sniff and tried again.

“No. I am here to escort you to your meal.”

“I am not hungry.”

Thor smiled slightly at the slight pout that donned his brother’s sharp features. However, his amusement was cut short when his god-like features fell slack from a deep tickle in his nose. He jammed his fist against it as he turned away from the scrutinizing eyes of his brother.

“EHGKZTTT!” he tried to smother, pressing his nose so hard against the leather that he feared he might break his own nose. “ENXZTT! ehh...EKGNCHH!”

His head swam and Thor moved his hand to support himself against the wall, thick moisture glistening off his gloves. He waited to insure that the irritation had finished expressing itself as he mourned the proper functioning of his nose.

A deeply amused laugh poured out from behind him.

“Not coming down with nefkvilla are we, brother?”

Thor gritted his teeth. “The Midgardians call it, ‘a cold’, and it is a trifling matter.”

“It’s an earth ailment?!”

The god of thunder turned to see Loki now standing, smiling at him with malicious glee. He felt himself blush, and he pushed the golden locks back behind his ears to where they had been before his expulsions.

“I would not have thought you so fragile.” He smile green eyes glittered, “Or, perhaps, it is an Asgard virus that you have delivered to your precious humans, and now you have doomed them all to a vile, mucus-filled death.”

“Nonsense and lies.” He rebutted, but made a note to check to see if such a thing was possible. He would not be able to live with himself if he had inflicted such horror upon the race he loved so dearly. He straightened himself as haughtily could while his nose continued to drip and he tried to sniffle. It did little to help the congestion but created another tickle, one that didn’t give him enough warning than do more than half raise a pair of cupped hands.

“EHASHHHH! HASHHISHHH!”

“Styrkr,” the Asgardian blessing fell like silk from Loki’s mouth, “you really don’t do anything by halves, so you?”

Thor let a small sigh leave his lips, “Apparedtly dot.” He gave another sniffle. There was no reason for him to believe that his brother cared for him anymore, so he dismissed the flash of sympathy in the other’s eyes as his own wishful thinking. He reached for his cape, desperate to try and reclaim some sense of dignity by mopping up his face.

“Thor! Don’t wipe your nose on your clothes. My children wipe their nose on their clothes.”

Thor blinked, regretting his decision to come and visit as Loki rolled his eyes exasperatedly. It made the blond feel too small for his liking. However, Loki grabbed the hem of his gray prison tunic and ripped off a chunk of material.

“Use this,” He held out the scrap, “I’d rather not watch you drown in your own secretions.”

The blond accepted the cloth and wrapped it around his nose. The sound of his blow echoed off the walls, putting his thundering skills to shame, and he repeated the task several times before he could gain some leeway.

“Thank you, brother.” Thor beamed at Loki, who gave him a sour look in return.

“Don’t mention it,” he sneered and sat back down, facing away from Thor.

It was a sign that he’d been dismissed, and although Thor felt put out at being ordered out by his younger sibling, he knew that it was best he leave.

As ascended the staircase he clutched the soaked portion of cloth in his hand, bringing it to his chest briefly. The visit, despite its briefness and his ailment, had gone much better than he’d thought it would. And he’d left with a tiny scrap of material that had given him hope that his brother still had a heart, and still, in some small way, cared about his big brother.

Edited June 15, 2012 by Mercury

[ID2006]

I love all of these soooooooooo much. And in an attempt to contribute I come offering a Stark drabble (nothing compared to Garnet's masterpiece but it did inspire this creation.

“So this is why you sent Pepper away for a week long vacation.”

Tony Stark looked up from his desk of paperwork hidden beneath a mound of tissues. Stark's eyes were teary and Bruce could see the reddened skin beneath his nostrils glisten.

“M'not sick.”

“Then you have really bad allergies.”

“I don't have allergies.”

“Exactly.”

“M'not K'TSHH sick.” Tony grumbled rubbing a previously discarded tissue beneath his nose.

“Jarvis.”

“Yes, Dr. Banner?”

“What is Mr. Starks current body temperature?”

“101.5”

“It's not that bad.” His body quickly protested this statement with a hacking cough that left the man gasping for breath.

Bruce walked forward and put a hand on Tony's shoulder while he was preoccupied with the battle against his lungs.

“You should be in bed.”

Tony shook his head in between coughs.

As soon as the fit subsided Bruce pulled his trump card.

“Do I need to call Pepper?”

“You wouldn't.”

“Jarvis.”

“Okay okay, I'm going to bed.”

Bruce smiled in triumph.

“huRTSHOOooo... heh eHTSHuh...” Tony clamped a bundle of tissues against his protesting nose as Banner entered the room. “M'PFShhhh!”

“Bless you.”

“Come to mock the sick person.” Tony glared, to anyone else it might have seemed menacing.

“You know I didn't.” Bruce waited for Tony to throw the used tissues off the side of the bed before handing the man a glass of water and two pills.

“Thanks.” After swallowing the pills Tony flopped back down and noticed the other stuff his companion had placed on the bedside table.

“W's that?” Tony slurred trying to fight off the uncomfortable headache the pills would hopefully fight off.

Bruce dipped the washcloth into the cool water before ringing it out and laying it across his friend's forehead, and watched as Stark's eyes slid comfortably shut.

“Jarvis told me your fever had gotten pretty high.” Stark seemed to relax more as gentle fingers ran along his scalp smoothing his bangs back.

“Mmmmn, you don't have to do this. I'll be okay.”

“I know, but I want to.”

Bruce removed the cloth, rinsed, and repeated his previous action.

They stayed silent for a few minutes before Tony's nose decided to interrupt. Thankfully, Bruce noticed the flaring nostrils, and shoved a tissue against them just in time.

“hu'RTSCH!”

“Ewww Gross.” Bruce couldn't help but playfully whine.

Tony snatched the tissue and blew his nose, thankful that his friend was able to be comfortable and unguarded around him.

[Dye]

These are all so cute!

@serotonin - I love Superfamily oh my god <3 Seriously all my adorables

@Mercury - I was just thinking today, about how Thor hadn't had any wrongness. XD I love all the little references to the fact that he's the God of Thunder. "his nose thundered." Wonderful, wonderful. <3

@ickydog2006 I will never ever ever ever get sick of Tony. <3333 Love Bruce threatening him with Pepper. XD

I feel so honoured that my thread has grown so much in a small amount of time! <33

[pinknose]

Mmm~ That little Thor drabble was terrific. I love this thread~!

[Garnet]

serotonin - WUUU I don't normally even ship Superhusbands, but that was supercute. I love confused sick Steve <3

Mercury - KLGJDHJh THOR YES. Oh man you have their vocal patterns and interactions down so well, I loved Loki's disgust and Thor being like a big awkward kid. And hhngghgh thunderously loud sneezing (and noseblowing hurr) yes. Also, au contraire, I would read the heck out of a Hulk(notBruce) fic.

icky - LIES that was adorable! I can never get enough science bros fluff ;u; Or sneezing!Stark, for that matter. I love that Pepper is the trump card haha.

[Prongs]

I would type out a coherent response but it's almost 4 am and every single drabble has left me in a puddle on the floor. *adds thread to stalking list*

[Spoo]

Rewrite in progress. ✌🏼

Edited April 30, 2019 by Spoo

[Dusty15]

AWW MAN! You guys! So much amazingness. I can't even....! I'm away for a bit, but I promise I'll have some stuff to submit to this soon too

[Dye]

Holy and all my asfghajdfjsh

you have left me incoherent

oh my god cap <3 Beauuuutiful.

[Garnet]

HUUU that was so cute! ;u; I love how politely confused/embarrassed Steve was. Photic!Cap is my new accepted headcanon and I'm going to take it and run with it YEP.