Seventeenth Prompt
Tony Stark has anxiety.
Always has, and probably always will.
His father may have started it, ingraining the fear into Tony's impressionable mind, because every door opening could reveal a very drunk and angry Howard.
Living in the limelight most likely enhanced it too, the fear of saying something wrong and it coming back to bite you in the arse.
And then Afghanistan happened, and now people talking in other languages and fucking baths scare the living crap out of him.
And then Iron Man, freaking happened, and now he feels like he's living on edge, constantly waiting for the Assemble Call to come blaring through.
So after a slightly traumatic and beat-down of a battle, Tony's anxiety is through the roof.
Steve (or someone) drops something behind him, and he whirls around, arm raised as if he is in the suit.
Everybody freezes, but soon burst into laughter, mimicking him.
Tony can't freaking tell if made him feel better or worse. All he knows is that he's pretty sure his face is beet red.