Because last time he tried to actually cook his own Thanksgiving dinner he burned the turkey and felt depressed all day.

So he just ate thirty hamburgers, which is approximately fifteen more than he usually eats, and just ended up throwing up all night.

So now someone else has to do it.

Or at least someone else has to cook the turkey.

But he can usually cook! Just…not a Turkey.)

Alfred tries not to spend Holidays alone,

but it happens sometimes.

On days like that, he surrounds himself with all his stuffed Marvel characters

and spends hours reading old comics.

Alfred likes to paint.

But mostly, 

he’ll just buy buckets of red, and paint four canvases, before sending them to random citizens as a prank.

Why?

Because he fucking can.

But, he only does it in the Fall.

Never tells a soul.

It’s his own inside joke with himself.

Alfred’s not ashamed of his body…usually.

And then he puts a little weight on and he thinks,

“NO I’M A MONSTER DON’T LOOK AT ME!”

Alfred likes to sing.

Mostly in the shower.

Really loud.

And many of them are, yes, 

but there are the commonly over looked select few that maintain their intelligence and attempt to stay informed on current evens everywhere in the world.

As for those who don’t,

he thinks some of the stupid things his people say are cute.

Even if they are incredibly ignorant and/or self centered. 

But he wouldn’t bring that up in conversation, considering it might make him look like a fool—which he’s actually rather concerned about.

He doesn’t want to look like a fool, but the thing is, when it does happen, he doesn’t notice. In fact, lots of the stupid things he says, he doesn’t even realize are stupid.

Oh, silly Alfred.

Alfred is highly unaware of what being transgender is like. As far as he knows what’s on the outside is on the inside, so whatever gender your reproductive organs are on the outside, reflect what you are on the inside. To him. No one’s taken the time to explain to him that there are people trapped in the wrong body, and he’s just oblivious.

So just so we’re all clear, he’s the clueless one.

Not I.

-xoxo.

aph-headcanon:

— sinsoo

Alfred never uses the British accent he’d acquired as a child in Arthur’s care.

(Though, as his colonists were British, it exists somewhere in the dark corners of those unused loafs of bread he calls a brain.)

He can use it on command, indeed he can, but he tries not to. It makes him feel like he’s a child again, and he refuses to be treated like a child.

…Though it does happen from time to time…

…And he doesn’t always put up a fight when it does…

…Because he really is just a child at heart…. 

(Weeelllll,

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