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it would be the fact that he was resilient. Land of the free and home of the brave: always moving forwards, being innovative and flexible, and ready to try new things.
Well, that wasn’t exactly always what he wanted, but it was for the best.
But he just couldn’t stand it; the way that everybody treated him. As if he was a toddler. As if he didn’t know how the world worked.
He did.
It was just difficult trying to be the nice, funny guy while still being serious about things that required him to be. It seems that in the present time, nobody wanted his comic relief. The fact about Alfred was that he starved for attention, and he needed people to need him. But they simply couldn’t do that, and so he was slowly losing his glamour. His smile had grown smaller, his forehead traced with worry lines. His jokes become less frequent, and his body more tired.
Which is the reason why he decided to cut himself off temporarily from everybody. He needed the isolation, the peace. His priorities were askew, and when laid in front of him, made no sense. If he wanted to make others happy, he himself first needed to be happy, which was far from what he has been recently. It was time to put his own priorities first.
______
Alfred stood in front of his office doors, selecting the few people that he felt deserved a final goodbye from him, those he felt close with. He heaved a tired sigh before typing out his words, hands shaking slightly. This was it. For how long, he didn’t know.
I just need some time to myself for now. Get my priorities straight. I’ll call sometimes, but please don’t call me. I swear you didn’t do anything, but I just need solitude right now.
The American read it over a numerous times before hitting send. He put the iPhone back into his pocket, held his chin high, and took a deep breath.
Alfred felt no regret when he pushed open those office doors and disappeared behind them.
So, I’m basically going on an indefinite hiatus now because I’m not going to be around town for the week, and my muse has been blah, so who even knows how long it’ll be.
If you want me, I’ll be on my personal, www.canadianidiot.tumblr.com
See you hopefully soon, guys.
-gives up and just covers his face, laughing and practically suffocating at the same time-
I CAN’T BREATHE YOU OAF- ACK, OFF OFF, GETOFF!
-Wipes off cupcake icing from his chest and smears it onto Ed’s face, standing back up-
For justice.
-flails gratuitously while he is smeared with cupcake but stopping to draw in a grateful lungful of air-
Agh- I think you crushed a rib….
I was going to eat those, dickface.
You deserved that crushed rib.
-Holds out a hand anyway, humour still shown on his face-
-Does some badass roll in the other direction, managing to pick up Jabba the Hut and the Sith Lord up in the process-
YOU WOULD THINK THAT, YOU DIRTY LITTLE FUCKER. -Flings Sidious at him-
-somewhat impressed; scoots like the wind and only gets clipped on the shoulder, swinging back around to the couch since Al’s off of it now and manages to swipe LE ENTIRE TRAY and duck behind it for cover-
IT’S HIS ROGUISH CHARMS; I CAN’T HELP IT.
-As beautifully fast as Al is, he can’t duck the whole tray, so ends up being slaughtered by the Star Wars cupcakes, and just stands there, contemplating what to do next.-
You’re so going to fucking regret that.
-LEAPS over the couch, making to tackle Eduard down-
Make m-
-completely not expecting that and ends up being crushed by the American, cursing in Estonian and futility trying to scramble away-
-Attempts to get as much of the cupcake onto Ed as he possibly can-
WHAT WAS THAT YOU WERE SAYING.
-gives up and just covers his face, laughing and practically suffocating at the same time-
I CAN’T BREATHE YOU OAF- ACK, OFF OFF, GETOFF!
-Wipes off cupcake icing from his chest and smears it onto Ed’s face, standing back up-
For justice.
BE RIGHT BACK.
-Does some badass roll in the other direction, managing to pick up Jabba the Hut and the Sith Lord up in the process-
YOU WOULD THINK THAT, YOU DIRTY LITTLE FUCKER. -Flings Sidious at him-
-somewhat impressed; scoots like the wind and only gets clipped on the shoulder, swinging back around to the couch since Al’s off of it now and manages to swipe LE ENTIRE TRAY and duck behind it for cover-
IT’S HIS ROGUISH CHARMS; I CAN’T HELP IT.
-As beautifully fast as Al is, he can’t duck the whole tray, so ends up being slaughtered by the Star Wars cupcakes, and just stands there, contemplating what to do next.-
You’re so going to fucking regret that.
-LEAPS over the couch, making to tackle Eduard down-
Make m-
-completely not expecting that and ends up being crushed by the American, cursing in Estonian and futility trying to scramble away-
-Attempts to get as much of the cupcake onto Ed as he possibly can-
WHAT WAS THAT YOU WERE SAYING.
No, he isn’t.
He just wears taller shoes than I do.
Fine, fine. When are you coming over?
Non, ‘e’s a big ass country.
…I’m tellin’ ya, zoli, d’at is not somed’in’ ya’ call me. I don’t care if it’s somed’in’ ya’d call ya’ friend, men not me.
Not that much bigger than I am.
Okay, I understand, okay? I said I’m sorry.
So ya’ say. Pretty sure ‘e’s a ‘ell of a lot bigga’.
…Alright. As long as ya’ get it. I’ll be comin’ ova’ in a few minutes.
Nope. Not really. Only like… Three ranks above me. Or two. I don’t even know.
I do get it. I didn’t mean it in a derogatory sense to begin with. If I knew you would have gotten offended, I wouldn’t have said it.
Alfred handed Angelique one of the twins from his arms when she gestured, readjusting so the one left was in both of his arms. He then nudged her shoulder with his, smiling. “See? I’m the best baby daddy ever.” He chuckled and looked back down at the child in his arms. “Ah, she’s going to stay in the guest bedroom then? I don’t know how these things work…” He managed to keep his voice quiet, as to not wake the twins. Alfred gave a small shrug and looked up at her, catching her gaze. “It is. I mean…. I guess we could technically adopt kids at any time, but still. Yeah..” The American’s voice trailed off as he reached up to push his glasses up his nose. He gave Angelique a small peck on the lips, hoping to comfort her. She did look so melancholy about the whole thing. He hoped that she could focus on the good side of things for the time being. “Yeah, I mean, it is kind of both. But everything has a good and bad side, if you look at it closely.” Once Angelique broke their gaze, he looked back down at the infant. He wouldn’t ever tell Angelique, but he would call this one Jeremy.
“Ya’re certainly talented,” she teased, grinning at his response. “Baby daddy? Better not say d’at too loudly, or Papa’ll ‘ear it all d’a way from London.” Not, of course, that a ‘baby daddy’ was possible- still, he’d probably pretend to be irritated simply to mess with Alfred, or impose some sort of fatherly threat. She watched the boy in Alfred’s arms, considering his age- he didn’t appear to be too young, but she’d still rather he sleep somewhere she could hear him. “Non, we…may need to find a crib to put in my room. Or per’aps ‘ave d’a midwife share sleepin’ quarters, d’at might be a better idea…” she frowned, still debating. “We’ll ‘ave to be careful wit d’a sheets, too.” As much trouble as the two infants were giving them, she had to admit she was enjoying herself; they were simply so sweet, even when crying. Looking down at the dark skin of the boy in her arms, she could just imagine he was truly her own. She almost wished she could adopt him- but watching him grow old and fade away as she stayed young would be far too much. She glanced up at Alfred and returned his kiss, feeling slightly comforted despite it all. “I know, ya’re right, men…” she sighed, her voice still a whisper. “Ya’ are, d’ough. ‘Oo knew, d’a American makes sense.”
Alfred snorted. “Yeah, and then he’d spill his tea all over his ‘trousers’ and then become a privateer again, come down to Mahé and shoot me with his cannon balls.” His smiled lingered for a while, turning back down to look at the baby. “Yeah, sometimes Americans make sense. What a weird concept.” His smile was fading, but the corners of his mouth were still curved up slightly. He sat in silence for a while, just thinking. He broke his train of thought with a more serious tone, “I don’t want to tell any of the other nations about these two. It’s just like.. There’s kind of no point and not all of them would take it in a good way, y’know?” He shrugged, careful not to wake the baby in his arms. “When can we put them down? Do you already have cribs? My arms are getting stiff.” He leaned his head on her shoulder, readjusting his arms slightly. The American didn’t want to say anything, but he was definitely feeling overwhelmed. Babies… Are actually a lot of work. Shit. But he couldn’t just let Angelique do it by herself. She needed him, and although he had insecurities about the whole thing, he was keen to help her. It would be fun, playing the dad.
No, he isn’t.
He just wears taller shoes than I do.
Fine, fine. When are you coming over?
Non, ‘e’s a big ass country.
…I’m tellin’ ya, zoli, d’at is not somed’in’ ya’ call me. I don’t care if it’s somed’in’ ya’d call ya’ friend, men not me.
Not that much bigger than I am.
Okay, I understand, okay? I said I’m sorry.
(Source: inthes-ky)
Well he’s not as muscular as I am.
Bring it on, bitch. Do you want the purple, or the blue one?
‘E’s talla’, ya’ know.
Do not call me d’at.
He is not. We’re totally the same height.
And it’s not like I’m calling you it offensively. Sorry?
‘E’s a few inches talla’ and ya’ know it.
Still not somed’in’ ya say to ya’ girlfriend.
No, he isn’t.
He just wears taller shoes than I do.
Fine, fine. When are you coming over?
-undignified yelp but then can’t help but start kinda giggling as he proceeds to smear R2-D2 on Al’s glasses to incapitate before he rolls off the couch and swipes two half-squished cupcakes as he goes, scrambling to get to his feet-
Come at me bro!
Oh shit no! -Wipes off his glasses so that he can at least see slightly out of them, whipping Han Solo right into Eduard’s crotch-
YEAH, I BET THAT TURNS YOU ON.
-Swipes up C-3PO and chucks it at Ed’s face, laughing-
-brings up an arm to protect his face after the Han Solo assault, managing to deflect the oncoming confection-
-flings Yoda at his general direction-
WELL HE IS VERY DASHING.
-Does some badass roll in the other direction, managing to pick up Jabba the Hut and the Sith Lord up in the process-
YOU WOULD THINK THAT, YOU DIRTY LITTLE FUCKER. -Flings Sidious at him-
-somewhat impressed; scoots like the wind and only gets clipped on the shoulder, swinging back around to the couch since Al’s off of it now and manages to swipe LE ENTIRE TRAY and duck behind it for cover-
IT’S HIS ROGUISH CHARMS; I CAN’T HELP IT.
-As beautifully fast as Al is, he can’t duck the whole tray, so ends up being slaughtered by the Star Wars cupcakes, and just stands there, contemplating what to do next.-
You’re so going to fucking regret that.
-LEAPS over the couch, making to tackle Eduard down-
U.S. Marine Corps photo by Sgt. Mark Fayloga
