Wttt Wisconsin - Tumblr Posts
Indiana: Time sensitive question, how flirt boy
Ohio: Throw rocks
Illinois: hot dogs
Wisconsin: beer
Minnesota: ice fishing
Michigan: kill him
Indiana: thanks guys.
Vermont: *walks in covered in dirt & what looks to be blood, carrying a rifle*
Illinois: What the fu-
Wisconsin: Heya Vermont what’s goin’ on there?
Vermont: Huntin’ season. *calmly walks away*
Wisconsin: Oh. Okay!
*Massachusetts & Maine look at each other worriedly*
Maine: Uh guys… Vermont is a vegetarian.
wisconsin x alaska if you would
omg yes!! i'm a wisconsinite, so he's my absolute baby! i adore him so so much!! :3 this will probably be wisconsin centric... love that guy...
WiscLaska HCs!
Seeing as they're both colder states, they're constantly bundled up. Alaska's got his signature trapper hat, whereas Wisconsin has a stocking cap!
Adding onto that, they're usually found cuddling. Typically with Wisconsin laying on top of Alaska like a puppy.
Wisconsin wears shorts in the middle of winter (like 15°F) and constantly gets sick from it, and Alaska always scolds him, and cooks him soup when he's sick.
Wisconsin and Alaska both have autism. Alaska is more of the quiet, semi-verbal around most people, whereas Wisconsin is a yapper.
Wisconsin loves telling Alaska about trees and nature, seeing as Wisconsin has some of the best natural resources programs!
Alaska is...extremely tall, he absolutely towers over Wisconsin, and all of the other states. When you look at it, their height difference is hilarious, like the "He asked for no pickles" meme.
Wisconsin knows how to play the electric guitar! It was invented where I live, so it's a little personal to me! But he's that awful campfire guitar guy, he'll whip it out and start jamming!
Whereas Wisconsin can play guitar, Alaska can sing really well. He'll spend nights softly singing Wisconsin to sleep when tornados or other disasters hit his state.
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?
I'm bored and in the car for 15 hours so
I'm not too active in the welcome to the table community but I do have a headcanon about Wisconsin someone else has probably also had
Wisconsin is a serial killer!!!!
This man is a cold blooded k-i-l-l-e-r. He acts nice and polite and all "oh hey dere! :)" but in reality he has a stockpile of hundreds of guns, bows, hunting knives; if it can kill, he has it, and is plotting the murders of every other Midwestern state as we speak. The only reason they're alive is because Gov knows how twisted he really is and threatens to cut him off from beer if he tries anything.
So he lies in wait. Satiating his hunger for blood with deer, ducks, and fish... But that can only work for so long (dun dun dunnnn)