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139 Dreams ☁ 9th Dream {Apples – America}



Alfred called out your name, rushing over and jumping onto your back.

You let out a oomph from the sudden impact, your hands automatically reaching behind to grip the male’s legs to keep him from falling. “What’s up, Ally?”

“Come to the store with me?” He questioned, his arms wrapping around your neck. He nuzzled your cheek with his own and wrapped his legs tightly around your middle.

“Eh? What for?” You blinked over your shoulder at him.

“Apples~!” He grinned, his blue orbs shining with excitement.

“What do we need apples for?”

“Apple pie, of course~!” His grin widened.

“You do know… it takes more than just apples to make an apple pie… right?” You glanced at the blonde before heading out the door, still carrying the male country on your back.

“Eh? Really? Like what?!”


Alfred stood in front of the oven, bouncing from one foot to the other, waiting for the timer to ding. Counting down the seconds, he jumped for joy when it finally rang, rushing over and pulling the apple pie out of the oven.

While Alfred inhaled the apple pie, you sat at the other end of the table, your eye twitching as you took in the sight of the messy kitchen. Every cabinet, every counter, even the floor and sink were overflowing with apples.

What the hell are we supposed to do with all these?! Build a freaking apple army!?

Your eyes moved back to the blonde sitting across from you, grinning happily after completely devouring the poor pie.

“Let’s bake another!”

Even though he had leftover crumbs around his mouth, he was just too adorable to say no to (which is why you ended up with so many apples in the first place). Thanks to that, you and Alfred were eating apple this and apple that for the next five years…

Oh, brother…

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8 Mile {Alfred Jones/America}


America came bursting through the front door of his house, panting heavily with sweat dripping from his blonde locks. Despite this, he was still wearing his bomber jacket.

You blinked at the male country. “What’s your problem?”

“I just… ran 8 Miles…” He huffed, falling onto the cold wooden floor with a soft thud.

Who, in their right mind, would run eight miles in one hundred degree weather? Alfred, apparently. But, he’s never really been in the right mindset, anyway.

You moved to hover over the fallen sweaty form, eyebrow raised. “What the hell’d you do that for?”

“Because I…” huff “wanted to learn how to rap…!” He exclaimed, grinning up at you.

“Say… what, now?” You cocked your head to the side, trying to figure out what nonsense this crazy dumbass was spewing.

“Remember that movie… with Eminem?” He managed to push himself into a sitting position, having regained some of his normal hyperactive energy. His blue orbs were twinkling like that of a child on Christmas morning.

“Yeah… so?”

“They call it 8 Mile for a reason, obviously! That reason is simple. Eminem is a great rapper, don’t cha think? Clearly, the name is referring to Eminem walking 8 Miles in order to become such an awesome rapper!” He exclaimed with excitement, grabbing onto the bottom of your shirt.

You sweatdropped. “So… if you walk 8 Miles… you think you can rap?”

“Of course! That’s what the movie is implying, right?!”

Epic Facepalm.

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All American Christmas {the Allied Forces & the Axis Powers}

Author’s Note: This was bothering me the entire time I proof-read this, so I figured I’d mention it. Canada and America are considered brothers, so it feels strange that Florida would be considered a sibling to America. However, it also feels strange for Florida to be considered America’s child. I honestly have no idea what relationship Florida would be, so meh – siblings it is 😀


“Alfred~!” Florida whined, following behind her blonde brother as he headed towards the living room. In his hands was a large brown box, filled to the very top with various types of ornaments. “Did you have to invite all of them? I can barely stand putting up with you and England, let alone the other idiots!”

Alfred smiled as he sat the box down in front of the tall lush Christmas tree that stood against the wall. It was bare, aside from the brightly colored lights that danced along the branches. “You worry too much! It’ll be fun!”

Alex groaned, falling onto the couch, “It will not be fun, it’ll be torture! I should go stay with Greece for Christmas…”

When the comment reached his ears, Alfred dropped the little red ball that he was about to place on the tree. It clattered to the wooden floor, but thankfully didn’t break. He turned around, lips stuck out in a pout with his eyebrows furrowed and eyes shining with sadness. “You have to be here for Christmas! We’ve never had seperate Christmases before!”

“Don’t look at me like that!” She scowled, looking away from her older brother. The puppy pout was too hard to resist.

He whimpered like a lost child, sitting on his knees in front of the couch with his head in her lap. “Alleexxxx~ You have to stay here!”

“Meh, I’ll think about it, Aly dear.”

He frowned for a minute before his lips curled up into a bright smile. He launched himself at her, arms wrapped tight around her neck. “Okay!”

Alex watched as her older brother bounded back over to the tree, humming happily as he placed the colorful glass orbs on its branches. Apparently Alfred took “I’ll think about it” as “I’ll stay“.

She let out a sigh, pushing off the couch and walking over to the box. Alfred smiled even brighter when she started placing them on the tree. It was fun to decorate Christmas trees – it was one of the best aspects of Christmas (beaten only by the snow and present wrapping), but it was even more fun when you did it with someone you truly cared about and loved.

When the last ornament was placed on the tree, the pair stepped back to admire their handy work. The tree was brightly lit, the lights taking turns flashing a rainbow of colors. The star ontop was a shiny silver, clear like glass. There were various types of ornaments, from round balls to doves and santa claus with sleighs and reindeer. Underneath the tree lay several presents, varying in size. Most of them were for Alex, Matthew and Alfred, but there were quite a few for their friends, as well.

Alex was thankful that they had chosen to go shopping before the holiday rush. That way, they didn’t have to deal with crazed holiday shoppers that had a bad habit of pushing you out of the way to get what they want (Alex swore up and down they were barbarians in disguise).

“I’ll start cooking!” Alfred announced, turning around and heading towards the kitchen.

“Hold it!” Alex grabbed the back of his t-shirt, pulling him back to his original position, “Number one, Christmas isn’t ’til tomorrow. You’re supposed to cook the food the morning of Christmas, remember? And number two, what were you planning on cooking, exactly?”

He looked over his shoulder, blue orbs blinking innocently. “Hamburgers.”

The urge to slap him was strong, but she somehow resisted. “You eat hamburgers every day, Alfred. Christmas is special, and I will be cooking it, understand?”

He frowned. “But I wanted hamburgers.”

“Too bad. Now, give me your credit card, I have to go grocery shopping.”

Alfred looked at her out stretched hand before whining and placing his silvery blue credit card in her hand. Alex simply grinned, leaving the house. This was one time when Alfred would not get his way (opposed to all the times he did get his way which, according to record, was quite a lot).

☁ ☃ ☁

It was Christmas morning and Alex had woken up around 7:00am. After admiring the small flakes that were falling from the pale gray sky (which took about five or so minutes), she headed into the kitchen and got to work. She had plenty of time to cook, but due to how much food she had to make (Alfred alone could eat a whole family’s worth), and the fact that she was doing it alone, made it slightly challenging. She knew she could rely on China for help in the kitchen, but he wasn’t due to arrive until noon. Until then, she’d just have to play the roll of superwoman (or, in this case, supercook).

When noon finally arrived, the house was alive with the aroma of standing rib roast, honey ham and dressing, along with the scent of the pine tree in the living room. It truly did smell like Christmas, and that brought a smile to China’s face when he entered America’s home. The blonde was nowhere to be found, but his sister was in the kitchen cooking her American butt off.

“Would you like some help?”

Alex whipped around, breathing a sigh of relief when she saw China standing in the doorway of the kitchen. Her lips curled up into a smile and she nodded, grabbing his wrist. “I’m so glad you’re here! I could really use a hand!”

“Well, you’ve got two, aru~” He smiled, walking over to the stove where a pot of eggs were boiling.

“Just cut those up and add it to the giblet gravy, okay?”

“Sure.” Wang pulled the pot from the stove and set it in the sink, draining the hot water before running cold water over them to cool them off. “Where’s America?”

“He went to meet up with Iggy, I think. Apparantly he, Germany and Italy all came together.”

“I see.”

Spreading the marshmallows on top of the candied yams, Alex wiped invisible sweat from her forehead and smiled. Dinner was coming along nicely.

She had told Alfred that she wasn’t too happy about all of the nations belonging to both the Allied Forces and the Axis Powers coming to their Christmas party but, deep down, she was happy that both groups could come together and share Christmas without trying to tear each other apart. The only one she was really worried about was the bi-polar Russia.

☁ ☃ ☁

“Good afternoon, Alex-san.”

“Don’t touch me, you bloody git! Hello, Alex.”

“H-Hello, Sis.”

“Bonjour, beau.”

“Hiii~ Alex! Are you making pasta for dinner?!”


“Здравствулте, Alex. This christmas, you will become one with mother Russia, da?”

“Don’t hit on my sister, Russia~!”

Alex facepalmed as she watched the Axis Powers and the Allies interact with one another. Japan was standing off to the side of the room, watching the idiots, errr… others argue. England was attempting to shake off America, who was clinging to his back and busily yelling at Russia about hitting on Alex. Canada was also standing off to the side, holding Kumajirou and trying to add his two cents (though he was blatantly ignored). France was standing beside Alex, trying to woo her.

Why Alfred was ignoring that and going after Russia, she couldn’t understand, but she’d much rather be hit on by Russia than France.

Italy was standing at Germany’s side; he was singing about pasta and pizza for Christmas, while Ludwig was trying his hardest to ignore him by focusing on the three sided fight between America, England and Russia (who simply smiled that creepy little smile of his).

She shook her head, slamming her palm harder against for forehead. China, who was standing beside her, let out an airy laugh and set his hand on her shoulder. “It’s good that everyone is together for such a joyous holiday, even if they are fighting, aru~”

“I guess, but…” She glanced at the group before looking back at him. “Is it really worth it if they end up killing each other?”

“Hmmm.” He set his hand to his chin in thought before smiling brightly, his dark brown eyes closing. “Look at it this way: If they do end up killing each other, at least you will have less idiots to deal with~”

Alex watched in disbelief as he walked back into the kitchen. Did he…? China just pulled a Russia! She shook her head and followed behind him. She didn’t make it far, though, thanks to the auborn haired Italian who was latched around her waist. The blonde German was blushing and attempting to pull the pasta loving male off, to no avail.

“When will the pasta be done, Florida~?”

“She already told you, Italy. We are not having pasta for Christmas, now let go of her!”

“But Germany, Christmas simply can’t be without pasta!”

“Sorry, Feliciano.” Alex ruffled his auborn locks with a small smile. “If you eat dinner with us tonight, I’ll buy you some pasta tomorrow before you return home, okay?”

His face lit up and he jumped up, his legs wrapping around her waist and arms around her neck. “I love you, Floridaaaaaa~!”

I’m sure you love everyone who offers you pasta, she thought, patting his back awkwardly.

“Get off of her!” Ludwig shouted angrily, ripping the italian off. He then turned to Alex with a sheepish look and tinted cheeks. “I’m sorry.”

She smiled, patting his warm cheek. “No worries, Luddy~ You can’t always take responsibility for Italy’s actions.”

He simply smiled, nodded and dragged Italy away.

Back in the Kitchen…

Wang was grabbing plates and beginning to set them up on the large table that had been placed in the kitchen for the holidays. Alex came in shortly after and helped him place as much food as they could fit onto the red clothed table, the rest being left on the counters and stove, along with the dessert and giblet gravy.

It was a tight squeeze, trying to fit everyone at the table, but everyone managed to find a spot and the feast began. Some of them were reluctant to try the American food, but once they decided to try it, they found it to be quite good. Of course, they still preferred their own country’s food over America’s, but it was edible enough. And the fact that China and Florida had been the ones to cook it made it even better (or so they were told by both England and Japan).

“That was great, sis! So, what’s for dessert?”

Everyone froze, staring at Alfred like he had just grown three heads and a cat tail. They couldn’t believe how much he had eaten. Alfred had consumed five helpings of food. Not normal helpings, either. His plate had been so full, it was stacked like a mountain that reached over his head. After eating five mountain sized servings of everything the pair had cooked, how in god’s name did he have room for dessert?

“Errr… We made three, actually. Apple pie, pumpkin pie and fudge.” She blinked, fork stuck in mid flight to her mouth. Her eyes were slightly wide as she stared at her older brother.

“Sweet! I’ll have all three!”

How had he not gained a single pound over the years? It just wasn’t possible.

Alex snapped out of it, standing up and rushing after her brother while yelling. “You better not eat all of my pumpkin pie or I’ll bake you!”

“Haha! Whatever you say, sis!” Was his carefree reply.

The table full of varied countries erupted in laughter as the one sided fight over the pumpkin pie reached their ears. Common knowledge would tell you that Florida loved pumpkin pie, and would fight you to the death for it. Knowing that better than anyone, oblivious and carefree Alfred continued to test her.

The tables laughter could be heard all around the world~

All in all, the all American Christmas wasn’t so bad.