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Senorita Tomatoes' Hetalia Drabble Thread


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Hola!!! So these are my Hetalia drabbles  (obviously lol) and I'm new to the forum so please be nice:) Requests are always open!!

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Always the Baby (Germany, Prussia, Hungary)

Elizaveta Hedervary had been on her feet all day. But finally, the house was sparkling, Christmas decorations were up, and a plate of cookies were sitting warm and fresh on the kitchen table. And just in time, too, judging by the doorbell ringing. She ran and looked through the peephole before opening the door, smiling brightly. "Come in you two! You both look like Rudolph with those red noses."

Outside the air was biting cold but the neighborhood was decorated with snow and looked like something from a snow globe or a children's movie. Gilbert and Ludwig Beilschmidt walked in, dripping a little melted snow from their heavy coats and holding presents. "We come bearing gifts," Gilbert said grandly.

"A-achoo!" Ludwig rubbed his nose and blushed. "Sorry." He grabbed a tissue from his pocket and dabbed at his nose with it, feeling his cheeks heating up with embarrassment. "It looks beautiful in here, Miss Hungary."

She chuckled and took the boys' coats, hanging them on a rack by the door. "You don't have to call me that, Ludwig." He was twenty years old but through the years he had grown up calling her Miss Hungary, always the child coming for little cakes and her warm hugs while she and Gilbert talked and sipped wine. "Eliza will do just fine," she told him, offering them a seat at the table. "So, I made my famous snickerdoodles."

"Your cookies are the best, Lizzie." Gilbert sat down and proceeded to stuff one in his mouth.

"J-ja-yatchoo!! Hitischhh!!" Ludwig sniffled and grabbed a cookie to be polite. He loved Eliza's baking but he was a little under the weather and his stomach really didn't want to digest anything. He ate it anyway.

"Ooh, someone doesn't sound too good." Eliza frowned and made her way to Ludwig.

"He's been a little sniffly on the whole drive today," Gilbert noted. "Might be coming down with a little something but he'll be fine."

Eliza laid the back of her palm on the younger German's forehead and frowned. "You're a little warm, hun... do you want some more tissues?"

Ludwig nodded pitifully, rubbing the painfully chapped area around his nose and feeling more heat rise to his cheeks. The last thing he needed for Christmas was to be fussed over. But Eliza was so gentle with him, and he really wasn't feeling that well. She laid a box of tissues beside him and smiled. "It's easy to catch a cold this time of year, I'm sure it'll be fine soon."

"I'b not si-hatchoo!! Hyessshhh!! Mmmgggh... sick..." Ludwig moaned a little and used a fresh tissue, sniffling. "By dose wod't stop rudding."

"It's the cold weather," Gilbert told him, eating a third snickerdoodle. "My nose always runs in the cold, everyone's does. By tomorrow you'll be feeling much better."

"I don't know." Eliza shook her head and frowned in concern. "He feels a little feverish to me. Feel him, Gil."

Ludwig felt his face heat further so that regardless of whether or not he was actually sick he'd feel hot. Gilbert laid a hand on his neck and frowned. "Kid is a little warm, huh? You feel hot, kiddo?"

Ludwig shook his head. "I f-feel-hyiiishoo!! Hrrsscht!...ngghhh..cold..." He held his stomach; even the small cookie threatened to make a reappearance. Elizabeth frowned and laid a hand on his shoulder. "Why don't you go sit on the couch with some blankets and I'll make you some tea, okay, sweetheart?"

Ludwig nodded and sighed in defeat, sitting on the couch and already feeling his eyelids begin to droop. Sure, he went to bed early, but early meant nine or ten, not dusk! He shivered a little and buried himself in blankets, groaning when he felt more sneezes coming on. "Hup'choo! Htssschhh!!" He groaned and laid his head back and Gilbert came in a laid a cool washcloth on his forehead.

"Sorry, West, I didn't realize you were really getting sick there. I would have stopped and gone back home. You're pretty miserable, huh kiddo?" He reached out and felt his forehead. "Definitely got a fever, we might take your temperature later."

Ludwig moaned piteously and only slid further under his blankets, feeling a throbbing headache come on. Eliza didn't help it by singing, "Teeea's readyyyy" cheerfully and walking in with the mug. She set it on a coaster on the coffee table by the couch and he reached for it shakily, taking a couple sips and letting the hot liquid soothe his sore throat.

"There, darling, just relax." Eliza propped a kiss on Ludwig's hot forehead and smiled as she felt Gilbert wrap an arm around her waist. "He's asleep," she whispered, kissing his cheek.

Gilbert chuckled. "You're a saint, Liz. Merry Christmas."

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American Idiot

(America, England)

America, deep down, hated World Meetings. He'd started out full of optimism, bursting with new ideas on how to help make the world a better place. It was soon apparent, however, exactly what most of the nations thought of him. They didn't all say it aloud, but he was, despite people's misconceptions about him, able to read an atmosphere and a person's body language. People thought he was an airhead, a loud ditz...even an idiot.

He was so young...he was still a little naïve and impulsive, even childish, but he really didn't want to be an idiot. No one took him seriously, not even his alien friend Tonny, and it made him get a terrible nauseous pit in his stomach whenever he had to attend a meeting. Today, however, was even worse. His throat was so dry and itchy, and whenever he sniffled in his chest hurt. His head was pounding and he was almost certain he had a fever. He groaned and dragged himself into the meeting, wanting to hide in his big bomber jacket and disappear.

"America!!" He snapped his head up at the sound of England's agitated voice. The sudden motion made the room spin before him and a tickle started in his room.

"A-asssheww!! E-hyeehhh--hrsst!! Mmmggg..." He sniffled and wiped his nose on his sleep, staring at the fuzzy image of the lanky Brit through watery eyes. "What...?"

England rolled his eyes and sighed. "That's disgusting, use a handkerchief. No, never mind, you probably don't have one." He sighed and rubbed his temples. "You fell asleep while I was presenting...again."

"S-sorry..." America felt his breath hitching and tried to stifle his sneezes into the crook of his arms. "Ix-sschhh!! Tschh!!" He moaned and let his hot head rest on the comfortably cool meeting table, causing England and a few other countries to eye him with concern.

"America, are you feeling-"

He was interrupted by another string of sneezes from the sick nation. "E-e-etscheww!! hipshhh! Hat-choo!" His eyes watered miserably and England noticed how unnaturally bright they were and laid a hand on the younger nation's forehead. He was definitely hot. "Come on," he sighed, "I'm taking you home."


As soon as they got to America's house the sick country took off his jacket and flopped down on his bed, bundling himself under the blankets. "Th-thadks, Igs," he rasped, taking off his glasses and laying them on his nightstand. England felt his forehead again and frowned.

"Stay there, I'll be back with a thermometer." True to his word, he came back with one about five minutes later, along with a cool cloth that he laid gently on the American's feverish brow. He slipped the thermometer under his tongue and held it, eyeing him like a worried mother. "Why did you come while you're ill?"

"I did't wadt to," America said around the thermometer, waiting until England pulled it out to continue. "I-hyetchoo! Hiscchhh!! I dnow do one really wadts be there, add dod't eved try to dedy it, Iggy. Everyode thinks I'm ad airhead with totally stupid I-I-ixshhh!! ideas..." He groaned and wiped his nose on a tissue from a box by his bed.

England sighed. "Well, 102.2 is certainly a valid excuse to stay home..." His voice trailed off when he saw the American's eyes cloud with tears. "Oh love, don't cry...I'm so sorry...see, you're so young, and some of us are a bit cynical and jaded and forget what it was like to be your age. So many of us were just like you."

America sniffled and eyed him with the innocence of a child, which really, he still was. "W-were you?"

England smiled and shook his head. "I wish I could have been have as brave as you are...hero." He tucked him in like he did when America was just a little colony, planting a kiss on his heated forehead. "Now, try and sleep, all right?"

America nodded and sniffled, falling asleep with an innocent, optimistic smile on his fever-flushed face. England stroked his cheek and got in the bed, holding him like he did when he was little, letting him rest his warm face on his chest. "Love you, little hero."

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Aw, these are both adorable!! :heart: I love relationships you make between all the characters. Keep up the great work, Tomate, can't wait to read more. :happysmiley:

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Aaaaa!! I haven't seen Hetalia drabbles in ages and these are absolutely THE CUTEST! Love the stories, you're amazing. :0

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Not That Bad

(Russia, Lithuania)

Toris knocked hesitantly on the door to Ivan's bedroom, holding a tray of oatmeal and hot tea. He was accustomed to bringing him breakfast in bed but could never shake the nervous feeling he got in his stomach when he approached his boss. 

 "Mr. Ruuusssiiiiaaa, I have some food and teeeaaa for youuu," he sang cheerfully, trying not to tremble or let his voice crack. 

"Tyehh-shiii!!" A high-pitched, childish sneeze that could have come from a kitten sounded from the room. "C-cobe in, Lithuadia..." 

Toris walked in and set the tray in Ivan's nightstand, noticing that his boss' cheeks were very flushed. Ivan's hair was plastered to his forehead with sweat and the tip of his nose was red. 

"Hix-schh!!" Ivan wiped his nose on the sleeve of his night shirt and smiled. "Thadk you, Toris. You cad go d-d-hyyeptchoo!! Hnngggh..." He groaned a little and Toris frowned. 

Sure, he was scared of the man, though since he'd conquered his land Ivan had actually done nothing to harm him. But regardless of their relationship, he was genuinely concerned for Ivan's health. "Mr Russia are you feeling okay? You are sounding a little under the weather, yes?" 

"D-dodsedse, I'b f-f-f-schhht!! Hyesssh!! Hpt'schhh!!!" Ivan rubbed his nose and coughed, shivering despite the fact that he was huddled under several blankets. Toris laid a hand on Ivan's cheek and slid it down to his neck. 

"You are feeling really warm, Mr Russia... I think you are running fever, yes?"

"D-do, is just -heshoo!! Ixchii!! ...little sniffle." Ivan moaned a little and Toris shook his head, unconvinced. 

"Could I just take your temperature? I think you're sick." 

Ivan sighed. "Da, I suppose-" He sniffled wetly and rubbed his nose again. "It caddot hurt, da?" He coughed and it made a crackling sound, eliciting a sympathetic wince from Toris. 

He headed off to get a thermometer for Ivan, biting his lip worriedly. Whenever the Russian fell ill or screamed from nightmares and cried in the dark, Toris' heart truly went out to him. 

"What is wrong?" Latvia approached him, looking worried, though that was nothing new. "Is someone not feeling well?"

"Mr Russia has come down with a cold," replied Toris, getting some medicine for Ivan. 

"M-maybe we can be a little less stressed today," said Estonia softly.

Toris felt like his face was boiling. "You two g-get a grip, y-yes? Mr Russia might be intimidating but he's also suffered l-lots!" Estonia's jaw dropped in shock as Toris stormed off, surprised with himself. Not only did he argue with his friends, but he stood up for Ivan. 

The Russian was sneezing into a tissue when he arrived. "Heshoo!! Hitchh!! H-hello, Lithu-hu-hutchoo!! Mmm..."

Toris winced. "Open your mouth for me, yes?" To his relief Ivan didn't argue but meekly let him slip the thermometer under his tongue. 

"Hup-heh-ixschii!! Hrschht!! Huetchoo!!" Ivan moaned and tried not to bite down on the glass after he sneezed. A mouthful of mercury would not be pleasant. 

Finally Toris took out the little instrument and Ivan could breathe properly. "Um Mr Russia you have a fever of almost 39, would you please take these pills?" He handed him two ibuprofen tablets and a mug of hot tea. 

"S-spasibo..." Ivan took the pills and laid down slowly, though he was mostly sitting due to the enormous amount of pillows beneath him. He sipped at the tea a bit more and laid down. "Spasibo for e-echoo! Eberythidg." He smiled and closed his eyes and, perhaps for the first time, Toris thought there was a lot of good things about Ivan.

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Awww :heart: I haven't read many good Russia fics in a while either. :D Every time you write a new fic you always catch me off guard in the best kind of way, especially the characters you chose to write about! Great job as always! :razz:

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Thank you!! :)decided to write another one, hopefully it's good. 


(Spain, Portugal) 

(M, cold) 

"Hermano!!" Antonio threw his arms around his older brother and smiled. He hadn't seen João in far too long, and finally the oldest Carriedo brother had been able to take off for the summer. Naturally, he wanted to spend it in Spain with Antonio. 

"How was your flight?" Antonio queried as he and João made their way to the baggage claim. 

"Pretty good- hatchoo!! Mmm..." João wiped his nose on his sleeve. "Plades are always so cold though." He sniffled and retrieved his suitcase, which Antonio took for him.

"Salud!" the younger brother exclaimed, leading him to the car. "Don't worry, I keep the house nice and warm." They got in the car and Antonio backed slowly out of the airport parking garage. 

"O- hyix-schoo!! Hyetchii!! Obrigado." João groaned slightly and Antonio frowned. 

"Are you feeling okay? You've done nothing but sneeze since I've seen you." He looked over at his brother through the rear view mirror and noticed that he was a shade or two paler than normal with a deeply reddened nose. He looked like he had a pretty bad cold. 

"Oh, I'b fide," João said cheerfully, sniffling and rubbing his nose. "Ah-ah-achoo! Huetchshhh!!" 

Antonio's frown deepened but he said nothing, deciding he'd have a closer look at his brother when they got to the house. He pulled into the driveway at last, grabbing João's suitcase and bringing it upstairs. 

"Ha-ha-hup'choo!! Ixsgghh!! Nghhh..." João coughed a little but managed a smile when his brother came back downstairs. "Ola, Todi!! Up'schh!!" His eyes teared up a little from the force of his sneeze and Antonio noticed he was sweating but also trembling a little. 

Frowning with concern, he pressed a hand to his forehead and gasped. "Hermano, you've got a fever! Why didn't you say so?" 

"I... I didn't really kdow..." His eyes teared up a bit more. "I... Hyeshhhew!! I wadted today to be p-eh-eshoo!! Essshhh!! Perfect..." 

Antonio sighed and hugged him. "I'm just happy to see you, silly. Now, you stay there while I take your temperature." 

He sat João on the couch and rinsed off the thermometer, shaking it and slipping it under his brother's tongue. João shivered and leaned into any cool touch of Antonio's hand. The thermometer beeped and he sighed. "39.2, that's pretty high." He laid the back of his hand against his cheek and sighed. "You're burning up."

"Esshhu!! Iggshhh!! Te-heshhoo!! Nggggnth..." João sighed and leaned his hot head on his brother's shoulder. "B-but I feel c-cold..."

Antonio sighed and brought him a box of tissues and some Ginger ale. "Pobre hermano... You look so sick..." 

"I hate this," João mumbled, his already congested voice muffled in Antonio's shirt. "I'b sorry... Hyetchii!! I ruided our visit... Huhchoo!!" 

"Aww, we have the whole summer ahead of us." Antonio laid a hand on his brother's flaming cheek. "Now, you get some rest."

He brought out a humidifier that their parents used when Antonio was younger and had asthma. Soon João was fast asleep and Antonio smiled and pulled the covers over his chest. 

"Buenos noches, mí hermano." 

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I love how you usually dive into characters that aren't the focus of other writers! Literally the first fic I've read on Portugal and you freaking nailed it. 

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Taking Care of Prussia 

(Prussia, Austria, Germany) 


"Ngh-xxgshh!!" Gilbert sniffled and dabbed at his nose with a tissue, moaning at the burning pain it sent to the chapped skin under his nostrils. All he could smell and taste was the sulfury scent of his own infected sinuses. 

"All right, we're here, kiddo." Gilbert opened the car door and helped out his kid brother, Ludwig, who was bundled adorably in a coat far too long for his arms. 

Gilbert rang the doorbell of a large, well-kempt house belonging to his cousin Roderich. He sniffled and shivered, feeling an odd sensation on the back of his neck like someone had put an Icy Hot patch on it. 

Roderich opened the door and let in both young man and child. "Guten tag Gil-"

"Iggshh!! Huutshhu!!" Gilbert groaned a little and sniffled. "Sorry, youdg baster..." He felt his cheeks heat up significantly and blamed it on the fever he was sure he was running. 

Ludwig tugged on Roderich's sleeve shyly, moving his little arms back and forth as he spoke. "C-cold..."

"I'll make you both some hot tea," Roderich declared, frowning at Gilbert's flushed cheek and red nose. "Gilbert, are you feeling well?"

"I'b feelidg f-fide..." Gilbert sat on the couch while Ludwig played with a little toy car he'd brought on the trip with him, zooming it along the floor. 

"Huhressshuu!! Huexxxsh!! Uh-hu-upshh!!" Gilbert knew that if he stood up at all he'd be terribly dizzy. His head felt like somebody was hitting it with a mallet. "Uggghh..." He could feel himself shivering but he knew he was most likely burning up. 

"Keep calm," he thought, "you can't look all pathetic in front of Specs." He stood up slowly so he wouldn't get too much of a head rush and sniffled, eliciting a worried look from Ludwig. 

"Gilbert, you look awful. And you sound pathetic." Roderich sighed and walked his way. "Are you running a temperature? Or do you even own a thermometer?" 

Gilbert rolled his eyes. "The Awesobe B-Be is dot goidg to be taked dowd by sobe pathetic... Ngggth... Hxx'ggshh!! Eheshhh!!...sdiffle..."

He realized how badly he was shaking and Ludwig stopped his playing and looked up with wide eyes. Roderich laid a hand on Gilbert's forehead and frown. "Just as I suspected, you've got a fever."

"Is Gil going to die?" Ludwig whined, his big eyes beginning to tear up. 

Gilbert chuckled and bent down to his brother's eye level, laying a trembling hand on his shoulder. "Dod't you worry, kid, I'll be... Oh geez..." He turned away and sneezed into the crook of his arm. 

"Huetshoo!! Hyishh!! Tch!! Mmm..." He sighed and got back up, his eyes watering, and patted Ludwig on the head. "Ngggh... I'll be fide, kiddo." 

He sighed, not wanting to speak any more because it hurt his throat too much, and walked upstairs to Roderich's bathroom, sniffling. He looked in the mirror and groaned at his reflection. 

His face was flushed and his eyes sported enormous bluish bags underneath. His nose was rubbed raw and his forehead lined with a little sweat. 

Gilbert groaned and rummaged through the medicine cabinet, sneezing over his shoulder. "Eh-eh-ge-shoo!! Hrsscht! Ixx-Ggshh!!" He finally located the thermometer and held it under his tongue, shivering. 

In the mirror he saw Roderich approach him and groaned, sniffling. He felt his cheeks flame in humiliation as he sneezed around the little device, wishing Roderich would just leave. 

"Hurushhhuu!! Hyexschh!! Hrrrsschht!!" The whole while Roderich stood beside him, his brow creased in concern. The thermometer beep and Gilbert looked at it hesitantly. 102.7...

"Hweshhoo!! Igg-Xxssh!! Nggh... Tch!!" He leaned back against the wall, trembling and holding his stomach, handing the thermometer to Roderich. 

"Gilbert... That's pretty high..."

"I kdow... But I gotta take care of West... Hitchoo!! Hup-tshh!!" Gilbert sank to the floor holding his head in his hands. 

"Honestly, the child doesn't need to be around your germs," Roderich sighed, helping Gilbert to his feet and to the guest bedroom across the hall. "For now, let yourself be taken care of."

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What Friends Are For

(Spain, France, Prussia)

Antonio sniffled, biting his lip to keep from crying. Today he and his friends were going to get to see each other before the next college semester started up, and now he was sick. 

He could tell as soon as he woke up; the itching in his nose, his scratchy throat, his roiling stomach. He'd checked his temperature in the bathroom and confirmed he had a fever of 37.5...

But, was it really that bad? "Ha-ha-ha-tchoo! Xx-gsshh!! N-h-hrssscht!!" The Spaniard's breath hitched and he groaned and continued to sneeze. He held his stomach and sighed, wiping some feverish sweat off his forehead. He'd be okay... He had to. 

The doorbell rang and Antonio ran to answer it, feeling a sick rush in his head when he did. Sighing, he slowed down and opened the door. "I-iggshh!! Hola..." He sniffled and rubbed his nose, letting his friends in and smiling. 

"Gesundheit!" Gilbert told him, and Francis brought in a brand new ball. 

"Look at zis, Antoine! We're going to beat Gilbert's rear today!" 

Antonio chuckled and Gilbert smirked, stretching to warm up. "Fat chance! I-"

He was interrupted by a string of sneezes from Antonio. "He-he-hetschh!! Hyiiishhu!! Ehrushhhu!!" 

Gilbert tilted his head and frowned. "You okay there, buddy?"

Antonio nodded, sniffling. "F-fide..."

Francis eyed him skeptically but said nothing, and the three headed to Toni's backyard. It was hot out but the Spaniard was shivering, feeling terrible chills run up and down his spine. 

He felt his cheeks flame with embarrassment. He couldn't look so pathetic in front of his best friends! "I... Hyetchh!! Who's ready to play??" His voice cracked painfully and he gave a couple congested coughs. 

Francis furrowed his brow and stepped Antonio's way, trying to lay a hand on his forehead. Antonio ducked to the side in an attempt to dodge his hand but soon he felt the cool palm against his forehead and surrendered to the cool touch. 

"You have a temperature," he informed him. 

"D-d-hyexxschhu!! Ngghh... Do kidding." Antonio rubbed his nose and groaned. 

"He means you've got a fever and you know it." Gilbert laid a hand on Antonio's cheek and gave a low whistle. "Scheisse... Let's get you inside."

"B-but we were going to play... Iyishhu!! Huetschhoo!! F-futbol..." Antonio felt his eyes watering as he was led to the couch. 

"Not anymore, mon ami." Francis brought him a spoonful of cold medicine and a glass of water. "You should 'ave told us you were ill..."

"I-I didn't want to disappoint you guys..." Antonio sniffled. "Esshuu!! Xx-Gshh!! Tch!" He groaned and held his stomach and throat. "Ayyy... It hurts..." His eyes started tearing up. 

Gilbert waited until Francis had given Antonio his medicine and hugged him. "Hey... We're your friends... We're gonna take care of you, 'kay?" He smiled and brought his friend a blanket while Francis laid a damp cloth on his forehead. 

"Mmm..." Antonio nodded and closed his eyes, snuggling under the blanket and letting sleep overtake him. "Gracias, amigos..."

His friends smiled. "De nada."

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(How about some more France for you guys?? Idk why I just love him:))

The Show Must Go On

(France, England)

"Hu-hu-hurushhu!! Ehueshhu!!" Francis sniffled a little and wiped his nose on a handkerchief he had in his coat pocket. More specifically, his costume coat. He didn't know how long he could keep up this performance, even if his role in the musical Hamilton as General Laffayette was small. Tonight's last scene for him had just ended and he was backstage fretting about whether or not he'd feel well enough to keep this up for two more nights.

He finally got the stage manager to let him go home early, which was a miracle and probably only because she was afraid he'd sneeze on her. As he was exiting the theatre a familiar voice called out to him in the foyer. "Oy! Frog! You did well tonight, I must say!"

Francis whipped around, the sudden motion making him dizzy. "Angleterre...merci..." His voice trailed off warily, afraid Arthur would tease him if he could see he wasn't feeling well, or for any reason he came up with. "I, uh...bust be goidg now..." He started to head for the door but stopped when he felt a tickle deep in his nose. Groaning, he pulled out his handkerchief and proceeded to sneeze into it. "Hue-eh...eshhoo! IggSsshh!! Nggghh..." He dabbed at his nose and a little hiss of pain escaped his lips as he rubbed the tender skin around his nostrils.

"Bless you!" Arthur exclaimed, eyeing him closely with those damn thick eyebrows raised. "Travel safe!"

Francis was about to reply, when he was barraged by another onslaught of sneezes. "Hu-heu-hurupshoo!! Hyixxsch!! NggGxxshh! Huephhh!!" He felt a heat of embarrassment or fever, probably both, rise to his cheeks as he sniffled pitifully and wiped his nose on his handkerchief.

"Bless you again! Caught a cold, Frog?" Arthur's voice wasn't so much teasing as concerned.

"Dod...just a-a-achoo!! A little sdiffle..." He dabbed at his nose a little more and stuffed his handkerchief back into his pocket. "I'd better get 'ome dow..."

"He doesn't sound well," Arthur muttered to himself and followed Francis out the door into the chilly air of the autumn night. "Oy, Frog! Need a ride?"

Francis was typically inclined to refuse it, but he really didn't trust himself to drive when his head was spinning and he was getting fiery chills all over. "I...I zink I would like that, thadk you..." Meekly, he followed Arthur to his car, drawing a shocked look from the British nation. No argument whatsoever? How ill was he?

Backing out of the parking lot, Arthur took a close glimpse of Francis' face through the rearview mirror. He was so pale but his cheeks were badly flushed and some sickly sweat lined his forehead. His nose looked like it'd been rubbed raw; it probably had.

"Do you have a fever, Frog?" he asked as he made his way to the Frenchman's apartment building.

"A little one, on add off- eshhhuu!! Eu-hue-huereshhh!!" He coughed a little at the end of his fit and sniffled wetly, leaning back against his seat as Arthur pulled into the parking lot. "But dot too 'igh zat I cad't be in ze show, I 'ave two bore nights... I just deed sleep...hyitschhoo!!'' He groaned a little and rubbed the underside of his nose with his finger.

Arthur shook his head and supported Francis with a hand behind his back as they walked up the stairs to his apartment. Almost immediately Francis went to the bathroom to start taking off his stage makeup. Arthur's face appeared beside his in the mirror. "Anything else you need before I go?"

"Um...ngghh..I dod't think so, but merci..." Francis sniffled and took of his costume, now in only a white t-shirt and green-and-black plaid boxers. He looked very hot and feverish but was still trembling a little.

Arthur frowned. "Maybe I could come by tomorrow with some soup," he said softly, laying a gentle hand on Francis' forehead. The Frenchman instinctively leaned into his embrace and Arthur's brow furrowed. "Oh dear, you are warm...I don't think you'll be going anywhere tomorrow."

"Except to my perfo...hue...huetschoo!! Urupshhhu!! IggXssh!! Perforbadce..." Francis groaned more loudly this time and sniffled, his shoulders still shaking from the force of his sneezes. "Maybe you are right, Adgleterre..." He sighed and sent the stage manager a text, letting her know to put in the understudy. She didn't seem all that upset about it.

Francis felt his eyes tear up. "I...I was so enjoying zat play..."

Arthur felt an undeniable tug at his heart and wrapped his arms around him gently. "You'll get another chance, love. Maybe you'll even be well enough to make the last performance. And if so, I'll be there to cheer you on."

Francis' eyes widened. "Really? But you 'ate be..."

Arthur chuckled and shook his head. "Come now, you know that's not true. You get back on your feet and we'll bicker like we've always done but it's only because we've nothing better to do."

"Dod't we?" Francis looked down and sniffled, and Arthur decided to ignore the comment and rummage through his medicine cabinet for a thermometer.

"Take your temperature, Frog." Francis sighed and reluctantly held it under his tongue, looking up at England with that damnably pitiful, fever-flushed face and those big, watery eyes...

BEEP! Arthur took out the thermometer and Francis released a series up pent-up sneezes. "Uh-uh-urupshhuu!! Iggshhu!! IxxGgshh!! Hyesschtt!!"

Arthur frowned a bit in worry and read his temperature. "39.5...you've got a fever, Frog. And it's pretty high."

Francis moaned piteously and maybe he wasn't thinking clearly because of his fever but for whatever reason he laid his head on Arthur's lap. The Englishman blushed scarlet. "Hey! What do you think you're doing, you bloody git-"

But Francis was so miserable, and Arthur couldn't just let him lie there and not pull a blanket over him and run his fingers through his long, smooth hair. "Ah... Francis?" But the Frenchman didn't answer. He was already asleep. 


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OH. My. God.

These are so adorable.

All of them. But the Russia one. Oh my god, fanning myself, so ADORABLE! Ahh. You have a way with words. It's great. Please keep writing! I would just love to see more drabbles. It's amazing to see Hetalia drabbles. I used to write some, but I guess I wasn't that good at it haha. Maybe I'll pick it up again.

Happy writing!

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Four more amazing drabbles!! :D Keep making wonderful stories, Tomatoes, each one is better than the last. :heart:

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These were all amazing. I just read ever single one. :) 

Um, could you maybe do one with Japan and China?

And would it be impossible to do an inner monologue of one character as a drabble? 

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1 hour ago, Señorita Tomatoes said:

Thank you everyone!! :) of course I can! Any preferences as to who is sneezing and the cause?

Why not Japan sneezing from a cold? And he's in denial, because he's so careful. Eventually China convinces him, or at least calms him down enough from the panic  of catching a cold to rest. 

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