Wttt Nevada - Tumblr Posts

Ayyyy im back again!!! For the past 2 Months or so school was hard, but now im like 2 days away from summer break so i can back to drawing silly states yay

These doodles (although very lazy, sorry) were inspired by (and have direct quotes from) @flarefoxxx ‘s amazing fanfic “Workplace crush”, cuz Gov/Greg has been making my brain rot for these months that I’ve been inactive and i just needed to draw something with these two (and so help me god i will combust if someone makes a fanfic of these two getting together) 😼

Important to mention that the designs that i do for the states may change a lot throughout every drawing of mine as im gonna study anatomy AND do some research about each state during the summer to try to find out kore about them

(And please if you want to ask me to draw something pls dont be afraid to drop it in my ask box, i have almost 0 ideas of what to draw 😿)

Some Historical Calivada- a.k.a. How it started:

(The rest under the cut; cw for some suggestive content)

Nevada’s most prominent settlement in the mid-1800s was Virginia City, founded as a silver boom town, and, as quoted in this Wikipedia article was considered the “sophisticated interior partner of San Francisco.”

Vs. How it’s going:

It was only a kiss, how did it end up like this??

You’ll never tell me this isn’t total ex behavior 😂

Doors

The States try and open the door. Gov starts to have a breakdown.

———————————————————————

Florida stares hard at the front door of the Statehouse, expression serious.

Louisiana side-eyed him with concern, and everyone else stayed a few feet away.

“Whatcha thinkin’ ‘bout, sha?” Louie asks, but Florida doesn’t turn away.

“Papi’s here, right?”

They know it’s him, know that Gov is the Father and son they thought they lost, but they’re not ready— they’re not prepared to bring it up. Not yet.

“Yeah, what of it?”

“He does this weird thing, watch.” Florida springs up, approaching the front door with sure, confident steps.

Before he can grab the door handle, another hand appears to pull the door open. A body blocking the entryway, but he hadn’t come in from outside, had simply stepped in the way.

Gov hadn’t been there a second ago.

“Where are you off to?” The man asks, raising a brow as he opens the door.

“Nowhere!” Florida grins, “Just wanted to go out!”

“Hm.” Gov studies him for a moment, scrutinizing. Florida can feel himself start to sweat, before the man turns away. “Alright, don’t cause any trouble.”

And the man’s gone, as if he was never there, leaving the door wide open.

Florida turns back to them all with a grin.

“See?”

“Has he always done that?” Montana asks with a furrowed brow.

“Come to think of it, I don’t think we’ve ever opened the front or back door.” Iowa reclines on a couch, staring up at the ceiling with his hands folded over his stomach. “Pa’s always shown up to open the doors, but only when we’re going out? He never opens it coming inside unless it’s a building other than the Statehouse? It’s kinda weird.”

“I think we’ve gotten used to it. I mean, I know I’ve started waiting for him to open other doors too.”

A few moments of contemplating silence.

“First to open the front or back door before Papi shows up wins.”

And that sealed it.

.1.

Florida, of course, was the first to try it. Multiple times in the span of several hours, in fact.

He’d reach for one door handle, wait for it to twist and wait for the Static to fill the air as Gov starts to teleport, before he bolts to the other side of the house to the other door.

It doesn’t work, and Gov looks more tired each time.

Gov snatches him up in the middle of one of his sprints, hand holding the back of the Southerner’s shirt to look him in the face.

Amber meets grey, and Florida grins- somewhat nervously- at the blank expression on the man's face.

“Stop that.” Is all the man says, lowering him to his feet, and patting his shoulder twice, “It’s late. Go to bed.”

Florida scurries off, feeling very much like the young Ian Jones who stayed up past bedtime.

That doesn’t mean he stops though.

.2.

Idaho and Iowa thought they’d be the ones to win, being two of the most often forgotten States.

Idaho had gone to the back door, and Iowa to the front. They were going to try and open them at the same time, or as close to the same time as possible.

When Iowa heard the back door swing open, he reached for the door handle— only for the front door to swing open from the outside, revealing Gov— Pops— with a disoriented Idaho held under his arm.

“You were both planning on tending the crops today.” The Statehouse properties are expansive , a lot of it used for things to keep the States entertained; such as farming or animal care. “They are next to each other, you do not need to leave out two separate doors.”

Iowa shuffles his feet as Idaho is straightened to stand on xir own once xe was put down.

Xir face flushed, “Papa!” Xe says, slightly whiny, “What was that for?!”

Gov merely raised a brow.

“Makes it easier,” he says, leaning to press the side of his head against Idaho’s hair— the younger personification squirming slightly— “Call if you need anything, Gem, alright?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Xe mutters, squirming out of the smug man’s grasp and hauling Iowa out the door.

The Hawkeye State felt…jealous. That Noah could have what Caleb himself craved.

.3.

West Virginia and Nevada, Boe and Cassian, were quite the odd pair of friends; a retired coal miner and a ex-mobster-turned-showgirl.

But they were formed little more than a year apart, and stuck together through thick and thin.

Sure, their plan may involve Boe taking off his prosthetic leg– but, really, it was his idea.

Nevada sets the prosthetic against the porch rails before he trots back inside, shutting the door behind her. West Virginia leans against the back of the couch, and the Silver state nods. They lean against the front door carefully, not making any noise.

“Pops!” the man yells, and the air fills with static, a sign that the man’s listening, “Left mah leg out on the back porch earlier, mind grabbin’ it for me?”

It happened more often than one would think. He usually took the leg off later in the day, but it wasn’t unusual for him to take it off and leave it somewhere without thinking– someone always around to assist without a second thought in grabbing it or helping him get to it.

He’d forgotten to take it off last night, and that’s what birthed this plan. The need to let his nub breathe.

The static shifts to the back as Nevada carefully reaches to the front door handle…

It turns in his grasp, and the door opens behind her. They stumble back, their shoulders falling against the person behind them, who holds them up with one arm.

She looks back, spying his father looking at them both with a raised brow— Boe’s prosthetic leg in his hand.

Nevada smiles nervously, “Hi, daddy…”

“Hello, Cassi,” Gov returns the greeting as the Silver State shifts to stand back up. “Boe is still in the sitting room, yes?”

“‘M here, old man.”

“Good, then. Help me with him, Cassi?”

“Yeah— sure.”

Their father looks…tired. More so than usual as he helps strap the prosthetic back in place— Boe’s fond of the older models— patting the Mountain State’s shoulder as he heaves himself up.

“Please behave,” he sounds so tired, “and please remember to grab your leg before you leave it in the middle of a street.”

Boe snorts as his Pops strong hand ruffles his hair, and Cassian grins.

They’re fine with losing.

.4.

To be completely honest, Connecticut hadn’t wanted to be involved in it. He saw how tired Gov looked, and how he only seemed to grow more haggard as each day passed with several States trying to open the doors.

But he had been a pirate, once. Mischief and the want for chaos carved in his bones.

“Davie.” he whispers with a grin, leaning over his husband's desk chair. “Davie, let’s go open the door.”

“Henry…” Delaware plucks his glasses off his face and pinches the bridge of his nose. “You know it won’t work.”

“If it doesn't, we can get Johnny or someone to hold him still while we open it.” The Constitution State shrugs.

Delaware sighs again, “Fine.”

Connecticut gives a small ‘yesss’, hauling Delaware up and tugging him down the stairs.

There was no plan, they were banking on Gov being too busy with…anything. They were just going to try and open it, no special plans or strategies involved.

And, of course, it didn’t work.

The handle twists from their grip and a body shifts to block their path as the door opens outwards.

Once again, Gov blocks their way. He stares at them a moment, back straight despite how utterly exhausted he looks.

“Please…” his voice is quiet and gravely, and both Northeasterners cringe inwardly at the sound. “Please, stop trying to open the doors…”

“Gov,” Delaware's voice is careful, “When’s the last time you slept?”

The man twitched, “Last night.”

“Did you sleep…well?”

“No- no.” The man sways a bit, “Too focused. Ia— Florida tried to open the door fifteen times in the span of two hours.”

They notice the slip, it makes their chests ache, but they have something more important to worry about. They’re uncles, after all, and their stupid, self-sacrificing nephew needs to go to sleep.

“C’mon, buddy,” Connecticut comes up to the man's side, carefully closing the door with one hand, the other going across the man’s shoulders, “We gotta spare room you can have for the night. Davie’ll message Ro for ya.”

As the First State pulls out his phone, they guide Gov to one of the guest rooms. They watch him fall onto the bed with a slightly pained grunt, and watch as he near immediately passes out.

They look at each other once the door is shut.

“Intervention?”

“Intervention.”

They need to show Gov that nothing will happen if someone else opens the door.

And what better place to do that than at the Legislative building? Where security is tight and no one there will hurt any of them?

..5..

Gov’s has one office in Washington, DC. Much like their home in Pennsylvania, the door can open to any of the government buildings.

The office itself is lined with bookshelves that go up and up until you can’t see the top. A hand drawn map of every state and territory on the wall behind the grand, mahogany desk.

On either side of the desk were two archways, leading further and further into the maze of bookshelves that never seemed to end. The space was larger than it had any right to be, and stretched further than the buildings themselves seemed to. It was never the same when you looked back, the pathways always changing.

Only Gov and Assistant were allowed in the labyrinth unattended, as they were the only ones who could find their way out again without trouble. Anyone else had to accompany one of them, or they’d never return. There were things in there no one should see, and only the presence of one of the government personifications would keep those things away.

From the noises that sometimes echoed from within the bookshelves on occasion, not everyone heeded the warning.

But it was a familiar, safe space; perfect for them to intervene in Gov’s ridiculous habit of opening the doors of their own home.

Only three of them had shown up for this, they know that anymore and Gov would possibly grow defensive; just the three of them would be enough to make him suspicious.

Georgia and Maryland, there to hold him back, and Kentucky, the one to open the door.

They knock on the door to the office, always so obvious that it leads to Gov’s office with the aura it gives off and the ornate gold details on dark wood.

They don’t wait for a response, as usual, and simply shove the door open. Gov had always said his office is open whenever they need him, after all.

The man jolts in his seat, blinking at them as they enter.

“Hello,” he greets, body relaxing when he sees who it is, but he furrows his brow when he sees the serious look on Georgia’s face, “I wasn’t expecting you today, has something happened?”

“Nothin’s happened, hon.” Maryland says as he rounds the desk, Georgia coming around the other side, “Just wanted to visit ya for a bit.”

Gov purses his lips.

He’s suspicious.

Georgia settles his hands on the man’s shoulders from behind the chair as Maryland holds onto one of his arms.

Gov looks to Kentucky, who’s stayed resolutely by the door. He wants to reach out and call his son to his side— no, no. Not his son, they don’t want to be his children, they don’t want any relation to him. It’s why they only call him Gov.

He sees the southerners’ hand reach for the door handle, and he shifts to stand– he needs to get the door– but the hands on his shoulders go firm, and he finds he can’t move.

Panic grips his chest, as Kentucky turns the doorknob. Everything tunes out– the hands on his shoulders, the weight on his arm, the voices of Georgia and Maryland trying to soothe him. All he can hear, all he can sense, is the presence of a loaded gun behind the door–

He pulls himself out of their grip, faster than they can stop him, the jerking motion pulling his shoulder– and the metal that holds it– out of place. He grits his teeth at the feeling, tugging Kentucky out of the way as the door falls open–

BANG!

The bullet strikes him in his dislocated shoulder, and he grimaces silently, staring the politician, who now eyes the States behind him with fear.

He never often cared if they shot him, it’s been happening for centuries– less so now than in the age of dueling, but humans rarely change– but they never got away with it when any of his States were present.

He moves to do what he always does, close the door and handle it– but there’s a pair of hands on his arm, another body coming around to his front as a third tears into the hallway with a loud bellow– like a bear mauling those foolish to get too close to its cubs.

“Sit down– sit down.” Maryland hisses as Kentucky flutters next to them.

In this office, Gov has several loveseats and armchairs in front of his desk, and he soon gets pushed into one. He grunts at the jostling in his arm, confused for a moment, before he waves their hands off.

“Drawer– bottom left.” he mutters, “Gotta medkit in there.”

Maryland freezes for a moment, but Kentucky scurries off to grab the kit as told.

“I’m sorry, hon,” Maryland says, too sweetly, as Georgia hauls the bloodied politician into the office and chucks them a few ways down into the labyrinth. “Did you just say, ‘I have a medkit for things like this’? As in, this is a normal occurrence.”

Gov can feel Georgia glowering from behind him as he shifts, preparing to pop his arm back in its socket.

“Ignore that.” Gov says as Kentucky props the medkit open at his side, “Eli– Kentucky,” the man says, muttering under his breath, “Nein, nein. Kentucky, get the tweezers ready, alright?”

“Put your hands down.” Maryland shoves the younger entity’s hands to his sides, “You stay focused on telling me why you’re acting as if this is normal! Elias, Eli! Put those down and go get your Gigi and your Grandad. Now!”

The younger State pops away, and Georgia immediately takes his place.

“It’s fine, it’s fine.” Gov tries to shift away from their hands, “I’ll call Robin and it’ll be fine. It’s not the first, nor the last time, a politician has shot me.”

“Gonna need you to explain that, boy.” Georgia rumbles angrily, “You should be gettin’ shot never, preferably.”

“It happens,” he keeps trying to brush them away, barely grimacing when Georgia’s hands pop his shoulder and the metal plates back into place, “They can’t shoot each other, so they shoot me. They’re always behind the door waiting for me to open it, but it’s not every time.” he chokes on his breath when Maryland checks the wound, digging out the bullet with the tweezers, “Nearly shot Daniel once– just started opening the doors. Rather be me than the kids.”

“Jesus,” another voice speaks up, a new set of hands lifting his face to meet theirs. Pennsylvania, “Fuck, kid–”

“He says this is normal!” Maryland hisses as his suit coat is removed by Virginia, “He says it’s been happening for centuries!”

His sweater is pulled up over his shoulder so the bullet hole can be cleaned and wrapped.

Gov feels four sets of protective, furious eyes on himself, and he’s even more confused.

“It’s fine,” he assures, exasperated, “I’ve been shot far worse than this over things so minor I wasn’t even informed of it. At least I know this time it was over a legal dispute.”

He tugs his sweater back down over his arm, but leaves the suit coat off for the time being.

“They shoot you over things that don’t EVEN CONCERN YOU?!” Virginia near shrieks, and Gov flinches at the sound, “Why are we just now learning this information?!”

“It’s not important,” Gov stresses, but they just don’t seem to understand, “It has not and has never been important. It’s just something that happens.” he shoves himself up off the couch and past Pennsylvania, nearly stumbling– he’s so tired. “Thank you for your help, but it is incredibly unnecessary to take on such a chore–”

He’s tugged back by a hand on the back of his shirt, a snarl building up behind him.

“A chore?” An enraged voice asks as he’s pushed back into his seat, the four of them glaring at him, “You think patching up our son, after he’s been shot, is a chore?”

There’s a sudden tugging on his ear, and he flinches at the feeling.

“Young man, if you ain’t have metal in yer spine and just got a bullet put in ya, you’d’ve just earned yerself a whoopin’!” Virginia snaps, their thumb and index finger holding firm on the man’s ear for a moment before they let go, hands going to their hips.

The brunette rubs away the stinging feeling, grimacing as he glares straight back at them.

“I said it’s fine, how many times do I have to repeat that?” He snaps in response, baring his teeth in a snarl. “None of you are listening.”

“We ain’t gonna listen when you tell us gettin’ shot is fine.” Georgia growls.

“Because it is fine, when it’s me.” he goes to stand back, “Let me go, I have work to finish–”

“Adam Jones, if you take even one step close to that desk, yer age won’t stop me from dragging you down to the southern house.” Pennsylvania barks, crossing his arms as he speaks, “See if you can ‘get back to work’ after I kick yer ass.”

Gov freezes in place the moment he started speaking. He doesn’t move, doesn’t speak– just stares straight ahead.

He stands there for so long that the anger starts to fade, replaced by a growing concern as the man doesn’t even twitch.

Georgia is the first one to step around to look at the man’s face, orange-brown eyes going wide when he sees the wetness in Gov’s grey ones.

“Oh, kiddo.” The large man brings the other close to him, pressing his face to Gov’s hair and letting the other hide in his windbreaker as the other three crowd around them, a flurry of concerned movement as Georgia feels a wet spot growing on his shirt. “What’s wrong, Adam?”

Gov’s shoulders are hitching, he doesn’t appear to be breathing properly, Georgia runs a hand through his hair in hopes to calm him down enough to get him to speak.

“You called me Adam…” the man says in heaving breaths, “You called me son.”

And suddenly, it made sense.

They haven’t called him either since 1814.

“Oh, baby…” Maryland runs his own hand across Gov’s shoulders, “It’s okay, hon, it’s okay…”

“You didn’t want me as your son–”

“No, no.” Virginia soothes, “You’ve always been our son, sweetie, it’s okay.”

“You left–”

“And it was the worst mistake we’ve ever made.” Pennsylvania snarls quietly from where he leans on Georgia’s arm, “And we’re so, so fucking sorry, kiddo.”

“My kids—”

“Miss you so much.” Georgia rasps, “They want nothing more than for their papa to come back.”

Gov makes a strangled sound, before he goes completely silent.

“Kiddo?” Pennsylvania whispers, “What’s up?”

“Please,” is the only response, “...just stop trying to open the doors… I can’t sleep with them always trying to…”

“Okay, okay.” Georgia kisses the top of his head, “We’ll stop, we’ll stop the kids too. Don’t worry buddy.”

“It’s okay, it’s okay.” Virginia hums, “Just rest now, baby.”

Gov mumbles something, in response, before he goes limp with exhaustion.

The four of them look at each other over the top of his head.

They had to talk to the other States.

Jealousy

They shouldn’t be jealous, but they are.

———————————————————————

“You’re sure about this?”

“Why would we lie about it?”

“I dunno, Gigi. It just seems like he hates us..”

“Funny, Adam said the exact same thing about you.”

“W-what?! We could never hate Papa!”

“Well, you’ll have to tell him that yourself.”

Several groans throughout the room, emotional conversations with the Father you thought was dead for a century would be difficult.

“If you don’t want to talk to him, you could just act like nothing happened and call him ‘Papa’.”

That wasn’t viable either, too much had changed since the 1800’s.

There are 20 States unafraid to call Gov their father or treat him as such: Minnesota, Oregon Kansas, West Virginia, Nevada, Nebraska, Colorado, North and South Dakota, Montana, Washington, Idaho, Wyoming, Utah, Oklahoma, New Mexico, Arizona, Alaska, and Hawai’i. And not even to mention the Departments, Territories, and the Agencies– though the Agencies are more the mans grandchildren.

“Look, kids. I’m not gonna force ya, and neither are yer other Grandparents, but if yer gonna get jealous when he gives the others any affection, you have to talk to him.”

No one responded.

———————————————————————

Kansas was the last State to be inducted into the Union before the Civil War– 3 years in body and less than half-a-year- a State–, and the third oldest State to call Gov ‘Papa’ to his face. Nebraska was the seventh, both Midwestern States– pretty well surrounded on either side by States that watches them in jealousy whenever they called out…

“Papa! We’re out of ranch!”

“Evan, I bought 8 bottles three days ago.”

“There are 49 of us in this house and most of us in da Midwest eat it on everythin’, ya know that!”

“Hmmm…fine. I’ll buy another bottle on my way back from the meeting this evening– but I will not buy anymore until next week. Use it sparingly, all of you.”

“Papaaa…”

“No.”

They did it constantly, almost as if they were mocking the others.

“Papa! Come by mah house this weekend! I got another cow– and she’s just the sweetest thang!”

“Papa, lookit! The sunflowers are growin in, we’ll hafta keep an eye on ‘em!”

“Ey, Papa. Mama said ya haven’t been sleepin’ right lately, ya doin’ okay? Naw, naw– ya look like death warmed over! C’mon, we’re gonna take a nap.”

“Papa.”

“Papa…”

“Papa! Mama!” the Sunflower State beams from where he stands by the patio, the Cornhusker State perking up at the mention. It’s a summer day, the weather is warm and it was decided to be a perfect day for an outdoor grill-by-the-pool. It was still early afternoon, most of the South and a few of the Midwest setting up the backyard, “Thought ya were in Germany for the next bit!”

Gov, of course, looks out of place in his slacks, loafers, and pale blue polo, but at least he wasn’t wearing his usual turtleneck. At the very least, Assistant was wearing a romper in the same shade of blue and sandals.

They both immediately drop what they’re doing, settling the stacks of paper plates and silverware on one of the foldout tables, before running over to the other personifications. They both stood a few inches taller than the man and woman, like many States did, and a few inches broader. Most of the Midwest and South were similar, all larger than the Government personifications in some way. Nebraska and Kansas looked a lot alike in build, actually.

The man smiles– the bags under his eyes looked darker than normal, he’d been getting better sleep and they’d been fading. What happened– allowing his arms to fall open as Kansas skids to a stop in front of him, practically lifting the man off his feet in a hug. Assistant laughs from Nebraska’s grasp, though he didn’t quite lift her the same way, Gov letting out a quiet ‘oomf’ at the sudden shift.

Kansas grins, the gap in his upper front teeth adding to his boyish joy at seeing his parents. Nebraska’s smile more tame than the others, but still just as bright.

“Meeting got delayed,” Assistant chimes as they’re set back on their feet, “We’ll be leaving tomorrow, so we decided to come visit beforehand!”

The others watch in a mix of jealousy and grief.

They want that. To be able to call them Ma and Pa and receive the same type of hugs and hair ruffles and constant words of love and praise. They want that.

They just can’t have it.

———————————————————————

Nevada, Utah, and Colorado may not agree on much, but they did agree on one thing.

Utah’s human kids are the cutest.

Gov and Assistant agree as well.

“Really, dad?” Utah sighs, Colorado chuckling and Nevada snickering behind him as he pinches the bridge of his nose. “I only asked you to babysit.”

“I am babysitting.” Gov retorts, pulling up his sunglasses from where he reclines on one of the patio chairs, “Look at how much fun they’re having.” None of them notice the other Western State at the sliding glass door. California just behind the wall, listening and leaning over to watch.

“Dad.”

“I really don’t see the issue, Micah.”

The 7-year-old triplets, Kayden, Brayden, and Jayden, were in a circle with several large lego sets— lego sets Utah knew he and Ilithiya hadn’t bought for the children.

12-year-old Kingsley fiddled with a fresh-out-of-the-box nintendo switch, and 14-year-old Kayleigh seemed to be dancing with a VR headset over her face.

16-year-old Jaxon was sitting close by the triplets, reclining on one of the patio sofas as he flew an expensive looking drone around the backyard.

Even Paisley, Utah’s youngest at only a year old, strapped to the Gov’s chest via a baby carrier, with her own mini sunglasses on her chubby baby face, seemed to be enjoying herself. And, judging by the pastel yellow mini truck just a few feet away, even the baby wasn’t safe from the Grandparent urge to spoil.

“You bought my baby a car.”

“It’s a little car for baby people, Micah. It even has seatbelts, and Paisley’s such a smart girl,” Gov turns to coo down at the happily babbling toddler, “Aren’t you, sweetheart? Know all about road safety, yeah? You’ll be the best driver, won’t ya?”

“Dad.”

“How much did this cost, daddy?” Nevada asks, still snickering, holding up her phone to record the interaction, “I had to be a lot— I know those toddler cars alone go for $200.”

“Eh.” The man waves the question off, moving to stand from the patio chair with a grunt, “Doesn’t matter.”

“It does.” Utah stresses as the older man approaches, “It’s a lot of money, Dad—“

“Micah.” The man’s voice is softer, sunglasses held in his hand as he gently rests a hand on the Westerner’s shoulder, “It’s alright. I wanted to buy this stuff for the kids, I know they get a bit bored out there during the summer— you and Ilithiya have been complaining about how hard it is to keep them entertained. Consider this,” he gestures to the kids, “a Christmas present.”

“It’s June.” Utah says weakly, leaning into the touch.

“Early Christmas Present.” He corrects, “They can leave the stuff at your Mother and I’s house if you want. Don’t stress too hard, bumblebee.”

Utah sighs, smiling, “Thanks, Dad.”

“Awww,” Nevada coos as Colorado snorts, “How precious.”

California slips away, chests clenching painfully at the sounds of playful banter coming from the back patio.

———————————————————————

Alaska is one of the youngest States. He may be the largest State, the largest man in the house too, but he’s still younger than the others.

He’s not very good at written social cues, and even worse at unwritten social rules. He has no sense of direction, a habit of getting distracted and wandering off: this means that when they go out in public anywhere…

“Let’s go, Ivan.” Gov says calmly, tugging gently on the man’s wrist.

Someone usually has to hold onto him, either his wrist or his hand.

“Coming.” The younger mans’ voice is quiet and soft as usual.

They’re walking through one of the busier parts of the city, where all the stores and such are; it’s an unavoidable place when they need to stock up on necessities.

Other than Gov and Ivan, Oklahoma, Maine, Vermont, and Wisconsin had joined them on their shopping trip. To get everything they need, it takes a whole team.

Vermont is in charge of the cart and Maine in charge of the list, Wisconsin in charge of the second cart and Oklahoma sent to grab things across the store or to run back into previous isles if they forgot something. Gov is there purely to supervise and Alaska to lift anything the others can’t.

It’s going well, Oklahoma rambling about his university sports teams and tornados and such, Gov humming along and Alaska following dutifully behind. The other three watch from behind them, a scowl on Vermont’s face, a grimace on Maine’s and a simple frown on Wisconsin’s.

Each look away, Maine down at the list and the other two to opposite sides of the aisle.

But there’s a sudden presence looming over the Pine Tree State, a hand coming to carefully rest on his shoulder.

Despite the careful movement, he still flinches in surprise— not paying attention to his surroundings—, and the hand quickly retracts.

When he sees the purse of Gov’s mouth, he immediately regrets not paying more attention— cursing his subconscious reaction that lost the familiar, comforting touch.

“What else is there?” The man asks instead, scanning the list over Maine’s shoulder as the State clears his throat.

“We gotta get a few cases of watah bottles, Cal asked fo’ those kale chips they like, and, uh—“ Maine squints in an attempt to read the scribbled mess of words at the bottom of the paper, “I dunno what the hell they wrote down here.”

Gov hums, reaching out a hand. “Let me see?”

Maine hands the list over without a second thought, and watches the man’s grey eyes study the mess of pencil and ink at the bottom of the list.

He sighs, “Eugene, would you run and grab a few boxes of Hostess Sno Balls, Twinkies, and Coffee Cakes?” He closes his eyes tiredly as he hands the list back to Maine, “Just two boxes of each, they need to learn moderation.”

“Aight, Papa.” The ravenette says, vanishing around the corner after flashing the man a grin.

“We’ll head over to the water cases, and meet you there.” Gov said to the other three, referring to himself and Alaska, “Eugene shouldn’t be long.”

“Alright.” Vermont nods, “Meet ya there..”

Gov studies the three of them for a moment, brows furrowing in what looked like concern. He seems to fight himself, before he shakes his head.

“Alright. Be careful, then.”

He and Alaska vanish around the opposite corner of the aisle, Gov gently tugging the other along.

It was…it was so simple. They shouldn’t be feeling this way at Gov using the other’s human names in a public space as required, at him holding Alaska’s hand because the tall man would get lost if he didn’t.

They shouldn’t be jealous over it.

But they know he’d do the same in non-public spaces, preferring human names to anything else, and it stings.

———————————————————————

Gigi said their father thinks they hate him, but that can’t be true. They could never hate him, have never hated him. He…he just doesn’t want to be their Papa, anymore. Right?

…

Then why does he look at them so sadly, when he thinks they aren’t looking? Why do his hands twitch as if he wants to reach out but is stopping himself?

Why does he always sad when they call him ‘Gov’? Why does he always seem to hesitate before calling for them— by their State name in private and more-so their human names in public?

…

Could Gigi be right?

When you were talking about Loui headcannons you said one of the more magically inclined states, I think that implies there are more with magic

If so, who are these states?

Of course! I’ll have to explain what the States’/Personifications’ magic really is, first!

All Personifications have a little bit of magic, usually focused on their Do-Not-Notice-Me thing and their immediate environment (Emotions affecting temperature and overall mood of surrounding humans, things like that). Some of them have more magic, some have less, and no one really knows why.

The magic is stored partially within their blood, and they have a second ‘heart’ that stores and pumps the magick through their bloodstream. This ‘heart’ does not show up in X-Rays, nor when a State is cut open, and leaves no residue when a personification dies.

Loui is one of the States that is more magically inclined…though I suppose it’s better to say he’s one of the States with the most practice.

All States can do small things, like bringing a cup or the remote to them without getting up, several use it to help along with paperwork by filling their mugs or fetching a pen.

Loui has enough practice to do other things, such as spell casting, voodoo, and speaking to spirits.

Other States that are similar include:

Massachusetts, being the most practiced of all States. He can do a little bit of everything but enjoys doing things to inconvenience his enemies the most.

Oklahoma, just because I feel like it. His focus is on herbs and naturally grown remedies. So if you don’t want to take actual medicine, he’s got ya!

Oregon, he uses those healing/protection crystals and natural oils but they actually work. They work really well.

Nevada, she uses tarot cards and all the fun stuff people charge $30 for at carnivals or in back alleys. He’s the family psychic.

Robin and Adam. They change the land around them to better suit their needs (They don’t do it often and usually its minor. They don’t want to hurt the States!) They can move things around in their environment, either subtlety or really noticeable if they want to. They can turn something, like a pencil, into something else, a knife.

They see spirits if they actually focus on them (they’ve gotten used to them, honestly), and are living wards against evil, supernatural entities. They’ve also brought humans back from the dead on occasion!

Other personifications could do this sort of stuff too if they practiced, but most either don’t want to or don’t care all that much, while some want to learn but are afraid or don’t know where to start.

All in all, personifications are weird and Very Fun to think about. I want to squish them all like stress balls.