Title: America's Laziness
Rating: K+
Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia or America (As much as I wish I did). Only this story belongs to me.
Description: The reasoning behind America's laziness.
A/N: Hey guys! I came up with a theory on why America is so lazy and tends to eat so much. So I thought I'd share it with you all, because I really love stories that open up a new perspective for me. Enjoy!
Alfred F. Jones fumbled with his set of keys for what seemed like forever before finally managing to unlock the front door to his house. He was tired, irritated, and had half a mind to just rip the door off its hinges so he could get inside. Trudging to his room, he began to loosen his tie. It soon found a place to stay on the bed, right next to the newly discarded briefcase. Eventually, his more proper clothing was laying in piles on the floor after being thrown there halfheartedly by the agitated American. It was soon replaced by his more casual attire.
After making himself a cup of coffee and turning on the television, he sat down on the couch in his usual spot. He flipped through the channels for a few minutes, before finally settling on some movie he had never seen before. From the looks of it, it was action and pretty much nothing but action. That suited America just fine, seeing as he wasn't paying much attention anyways. He was too deep in thought to focus on the explosions and car chases happening on the flashing screen.
It had been another long day of work. He was used to that, he had been since his independence. Even before that he was used to the long days watching over things or fighting on the battlefield to break free from England. So it wasn't so much the work itself that was tiring Alfred out; the American citizens were to blame. Half of America thought one way and the other half thought the completely opposite.
You see, that gave him the feeling of being split down the middle. He already had a scar going across his well-toned stomach from the civil war. Seeing the way everyone fought each other and prevented the other half from doing anything was starting to make Al worry. Another scar wasn't something he wanted, neither was another war between his own people.
If the feeling of being torn apart constantly wasn't enough, he couldn't really get anything done either. One group would propose a bill and the other would prevent it from happening. It seemed as though all they really wanted as politicians was to make the other side's lives hell. Some progress had been made of course. You just had to look at the improving economy to see that. Still, to Alfred it wasn't enough.
There was still so much to do and the fact that he didn't have the power to do any of it made him want to pull out the locks of gold on his head in anger. He knew he was doing better than a lot of other countries, most of them even. People everywhere were rebelling and fighting. Sometimes for good reason, but it some cases just because they were idiots. Alfred felt awful, but at least the tension between political groups hadn't gotten physical.
The other nations thought that America was lazy, and maybe they were partly right. Whenever he got the chance to just sit down and take a break from being the United States of America, he would do so happily. Why shouldn't he have that right? Still, if they saw how much work he actually did, or tried to, they might think twice about calling him the lazy idiot who never got up off the couch.
He knew that if he took things more seriously when around the others it would help, but he didn't think he could manage to pull that off. Sure, he joked around at every single World Meeting and proposed the stupidest ideas. He only did that to help keep himself sane. No matter what he did, everyone would end up fighting and getting nothing done anyways. So he tried to make it fun for himself and distract himself from the meetings. They always reminded him of his own country. By the end, nobody had agreed on anything and none of the problems had been solved.
Had he felt like it, he could have come up with some pretty brilliant ideas and solutions, but he didn't, because no one would listen to them anyways. He knew he was smart. After all, America had been the first nation to send people to the moon. The beautiful flag still stood proudly on its surface. In reality, he was a lot smarter than people gave him credit for. As both a nation and as a person. Being called stupid bothered him a bit, but he would never say anything to really defend himself from the comments.
Having the other nations, Britain especially, call him fat also bothered him a lot. He was by no means over weight. Anyone that had seem him shirtless could vouch for that. Still, everyone figured that since he ate a lot more food than the average country, he was fat. This was a ridiculous notion, but none of the others seemed to get that he exercised and did other things to prevent himself from gaining weight.
Alfred knew the other countries didn't get why he ate so much. How would they? They weren't inside his head, after all. Truthfully, he was afraid of going without food like he had during the Great Depression. He remembered those years much too vividly for his liking. Eating more than he needed to had just become a habit over the years. That wasn't his fault. When he really thought about it, he wondered why the others didn't do the same. Sure, he didn't know much about the history of other countries, but surely some of them must have been in similar circumstances during their life.
Snapping out of his thoughts, he focussed his attention on the flashing screen in front of him. The movie that had originally been on had ended while he was too deep in thought to notice. Some alien movie had taken its place and he realized that it was an awful movie pretty early on. Switching the television off, he got up to make himself another cup of coffee. The caffeine relieved stress. Maybe he would take up smoking again, just to make the stress go away. No, he couldn't do that. The other nations would only give him a hard time for it, and he already dealt with enough of that.
Pushing the thoughts away, he spent the rest of his evening relaxing. Finally being overcome by his want to sleep, he stripped down to his American flag boxers and climbed into bed. The mattress sunk a little under his weight, though he was by no means fat. He used to toss and turn a lot trying to sleep, but lately he had been too exhausted by the time he went to bed. All of the negative and stressful thoughts were still hidden somewhere deep in his mind. Maybe they would make an appearance during his dreams. Al hoped they would just wait until tomorrow to resurface.
Thanks for reading! I hope I haven't made America seem like a depressed victim or anything, because that wasn't what I was going for at all. Hope you liked it, even if it did seem that way. These are all my opinions, by the way. Don't send me some negative review for my own ideas, especially anything political, though I did try to avoid that for the most part. Grazie! Ti amo!