(Note: Oof, I'm absolute crap at following schedules. Happy Thanksgiving, I have to say that I'm most thankful for those who just decided to read my story. It's currently a mess right now, there are some things that I would go back and change if I had the chance. But I'm happy with how it is right now. Despite the constant times that I've missed an upload. I do heavily appreciate all the comments and votes/kudos. It's still my first time writing fanfiction, I only have some kind of an idea of what I'm doing. I'm just winging everything in life right now. Finally decided what I wanna do and study later in life. If anyone wants to know, I want to become a fashion historian. Although, my friends are telling me that I should be a writer so that might change. I'm rambling now. The point is writing this story has done a lot for me. So thank you again and enjoy the chapter. (This chapter was edited(12/24/20))

Missouri appeared in 1803 with the Louisiana Purchase. Missouri was 8 at the time, in modern-day she is 14. Missouri is the 24th state. 

Before America (1735-1802), Missouri lived in France. Like many of her more younger siblings, Missouri spent most of her time before America learning. When they came to America's doorstep, Missouri was pretty interested in America. She was one of the first states to warm up to him. 

Missouri's name is Célia Jones. Her nicknames are Miss Célia and Cél.

 Missouri has dirty blonde hair with ice blue eyes with amber specks. She usually wears her hair in twin braids. If it's not in that style, she wears it in a loose bun with a headband. Her skin is a light tan that usually darkens during the summer. 

Missouri is a kind soul. She's a pretty chill person and easy to get along with. It's just that she's a little too nice. Like a very extroverted type of kind or that one person that smiles so much to the point that you think they murdered someone. It's between the line of being extroverted and you really need to shut up. 

As I said before, Missouri is a friendly state. If it's not Virginia or Delaware reminding America to take care of himself, it's Missouri. 

She helps out wherever she can. Normally, she's the one going to the store and restocking the fridge. 

Missouri has 114 mini boats. It's like a collection. Anyways, these represent her counties. I went from plush ponies to mini boats, I think that's an improvement. 

Fun fact, the only time Missouri cursed was after the Gateway Arch was built. It was when New York asked what it meant that Missouri said 'growth bitch!'. 

Missouri despises anything to do with the Civil War. She doesn't like the Wilson's Creek National Battlefield at all. 

Surprisingly, she doesn't mind the National World War I Museum and Memorial. The only state that hasn't visited the museum is Hawaii. Missouri has heard stories from Louisiana. Even though it's an entirely different war, Missouri doesn't want to risk getting her arm bitten away. 

Missouri's favorite poet is Maya Angelou. Mostly because the woman was born in her state. But she does like poetry, ignoring the fact that she doesn't understand most of it until it hits her like a brick while she's trying to sleep. 

Missouri has a secret competition with multiple states on who is the 'friendliest state'.   (Oh my god, I looked it up to fact check since it said Tennessee before. And oof, Missouri isn't even on top ten with a lot of the lists. It says Minnesota is the friendliest state but I found another site that said that they are third for the rudest state. New Jersey was second and New York was first. I don't know what to say anymore. Although, I do find it very cute that Hawaii overall is the happiest and most loved state. Another edit, I came back after seeing another site. Apparently, Missouri ties with Tennessee for the most neighborly state. Both titles are pretty close in meaning. But neighborly is different from friendly.) 

The only reason why Kentucky would visit Missouri is to go to their cave restaurant. It's in a literal cave. Is this an actual thing? Why? 

Missouri loves cotton candy. It was first introduced to her at the World's Fair in St. Louis in 1904. She loves making it on weekends. Although, she keeps most of it to herself, Missouri does give some to Alaska. 

Missouri was disgusted by Valentine Tapley's long-ass beard. Tapley had promised that he would never shave again if Lincoln won. Welp, his beard grew to be 12ft long. 

Ya know Mark Twain? Connecticut's favorite author and the one with a love affair with the Mississippi River. Yeah, he was born in Missouri. Missouri takes pride in the awkwardness that she has created between her, Mississippi, Connecticut, and Florida. Why Florida? Well, Mark Twain was born in Florida, Missouri. Which is an uninhabited village in the Monroe county. 

Missouri managed to get Connecticut to build her a fountain. Missouri loves all the fountains in her state, she's given all of them human names. Kansas City currently holds the title of City of Fountains. On another note, did you know that Philadelphia is the City of Brotherly love? I found it absolutely hilarious. 

The first successful parachute jump off a moving plane was in her state. Ever since then, she begs one of her siblings to go parachute jumping on her birthday. If that doesn't work then she goes to America or kidnaps D.C for the day. 

There was another treat introduced at the World's Fair in 1904. Ice tea. Missouri drinks one cup a day now. 

Missouri has had bad luck with capitals. The first capital building in Jefferson City was burned in 1837. The second was burned in 1911 when it was struck by lightning. 

 Aunt Jemima's pancake flour was invented in Missouri. She now only uses Aunt Jemima's pancake mix to make pancakes and waffles. Vermont despises the fact that she uses the mix. Missouri is sure when Canada meets her that he'll be offended. 

Missouri's favorite festival is the Dogwood-Azalea Festival. She thinks the blooms are absolutely beautiful. 

Her second favorite is the Hermann Oktoberfest. She's never been able to actually go. Missouri just looks at pictures online. 

Missouri can play the fiddle pretty well. She was originally taught by Louisiana then America took her to fiddle lessons. 

 Did you know that Missouri has a state dinosaur? It's the Hadrosaur or the duck-billed dinosaur. On an unrelated note, Massachusetts doesn't have a state dinosaur. It has dinosaur tracks. What the hell? Why couldn't it have been an actual dino? 

Missouri cried herself to sleep after the St. Louis summer Olympics. Short story, the summer Olympics that year was a mess. Sadly, it was the first Olympic games that the USA hosted.

Missouri wanted an American bullfrog, she went to North Carolina. North Carolina straight up hissed at her and scurried away. She probably shouldn't have asked after the cooked frog legs accident. 

Missouri took Alaska, D.C, and Hawaii to the Magic House in St. Louis. D.C was amazed, Alaska was slightly fascinated, and Hawaii was thinking of future plans of world domination. Well, that's what Missouri thought she was doing. You never know what Hawaii is thinking. S

he once took Alabama to Silver Dollar City theme park during Christmas. He didn't want to leave.

 Missouri is not proud of the fact that she can rap any Eminem song. Missouri doesn't appreciate her fellow states trying to get her to rap every Halloween.

Missouri's room is very cozy. Her walls are a light brown with black walnut wood floors. The floors aren't actually black, they are more of an ashy brown. 

Anyway, she has a daybed. If you didn't know, it's a bed that turns into a couch or into a bed. The bed usually has pale yellow sheets with a soft tan blanket. She keeps the bed next to her window. 

Speaking of her window, there are little stickers on them. There are stickers of a chibi peregrine falcon, purple finch, and an eastern screech-owl. Her curtains are white with little white hawthorn flowers on them. 

To the rest of her room. 

In the corner, there is a little work area. With an executive type desk that fits into a corner. Usually, she works on little projects there. Missouri is surprisingly good at coming up with ideas for buildings or inventions. She can't build to save her life. At this little corner, she has a little flower pot. There are cute little wolves painted on it. The flower pot holds ozark bluestar flowers. Sadly, they are fake. Missouri loves flowers but she's afraid of them dying. Whether it's a natural death or because she did something wrong, Missouri doesn't want to take that chance. 

On the floor, there's a big fluffy rug. It's in the shape of a sun. Like one of those fancy suns you see with the fire like.....tentacles......tendrils, yea tendrils. 

Missouri has 4 bean bags. Usually, they're thrown all over the place.

Missouri hates the weather in her state. Extreme high temperatures give her a headache while extreme low temperatures give her the common cold. Any type of serve storm either knocks her out for an hour or gives her bruises. Flooding makes her throw up. And earthquakes give her a massive headache and sometimes knocks her out.

The Civil War was the only time Missouri went completely quiet. Both the Confederacy and Union claimed her. Missouri really didn't have anywhere to go. The Union states wouldn't fully accept her. And Confederacy scared the shit out of her. That left her to wander around avoiding any battle scenes. Being only 10, there weren't many jobs she could do. She did manage to get a maid job. There were slight complications due to her refusal to speak. Missouri often got punished which didn't help the aches and cuts she got from the battles taking place in her state. Keep in mind readers that punishments back then were in the form of beatings and whippings. When Missouri came back, she was silent for about 2 years. She broke her silence when America almost passed out from exhaustion. He got a very stern lecture about taking care of yourself. Missouri still has the scars from her time as a maid. She hasn't told anyone about what happened and doesn't plan to. 

-Now On To The Story- 

Célia froze as Mom went into a coughing fit.

She slowly turned around, "Mom?"

Mom groaned, "I'm fine."

Célia gripped her spoon tight and gave her Mom a glare.

"Bed, NOW."

Mom pouted but got up.

-

Célia hummed as she prepared some chicken soup.

The state watched Clementine, who was making mashed potatoes, out of the corner of her eye.

She smiled to herself.

With Mom being sick, he would be forced to stay home. Meaning there's no way he can miss Thanksgiving.

Célia stirred the broth, humming to herself.

As Clementine mashed the potatoes, Célia broke the silence.

"What are you thankful for, Clem?" She questioned, giving the older teen a soft smile.

Clementine paused, "what?"

Célia repeated her question.

The other girl scoffed.

"I'm not thankful for anything."

Célia bit her lip.

"There has to be something you're thankful for. What about being here?"

Clementine rolled her eyes.

"Why would I be thankful for being here? I didn't choose to come here. It just happened that everything worked out." She muttered, bitterly.

Célia felt the urge to smash her head into the counter.

Clementine hadn't always been this bitter. Célia assumed that it was because of France. Who would want to leave their home to go to a whole new country?

But it all worked out in the end.

Célia sometimes didn't understand Clementine. She was always so cold and closed up.

There were times when you could see bits of amusement on her face. The occasional confusion.

The teen huffed as Clementine turned back to her work.

Picking up the soup, Célia almost ran out of the kitchen.

-

Célia relaxed as she approached Mom's door.

She stilled as she heard voices.

Célia recognized Arthur's voice first.

"You're not a bad parent, Mom."

Mom let out a bitter laugh.

"I'm not even home most of the time. I've missed so many holidays. Not to mention, birthdays. I'm just as bad as-"

Célia pressed her ear closed enough to the door to hear the rustling of sheets and a squeak of pain.

"Stop blaming yourself, Mom. You're a superpower. We're a superpower. There are going to be times when you can't be around. Boss isn't making it any better either. As for birthdays, there are 51 of us. I can barely remember all of our birthdays."

Arthur stopped, Célia puffed up her cheeks as she tried to hear him.

"Since, England wasn't even around most of the time. Pretty sure I only saw him twice. Once was when he came back to scold you. Even during these two times he visited, he didn't even stay the night." Arthur growled.

Mom sighed, "I guess."

Célia heard Arthur huff.

"While I'm glad you didn't tell him jackshit."

"Arthur." Mom warned.

"You were a child. And you managed to raise all 13 of us. Then continued to raise 38 more. And they call you childish. You're still god damn 19."

Gosh, when Arthur starts swearing you know he's about to go on a rant.

Célia took a deep breath before putting on a bright smile and opening the door.

-

Célia giggled as she watched Marcus and Theodore fight over who makes the best apple pie.

Every Thanksgiving without fail.

The state glanced at Tess(West Virginia) who was sitting next to her on the soft couch.

"What are you thankful for, Tess?" Célia suddenly asked.

Tess looked up, a bit startled.

"This might sound weird." Tess mumbled, chewing her fingernail.

Célia back off a bit. "It's fine if you don't want to tell me."

"No, it's okay. I'm...........I'm thankful of Connie." Tess admitted.

Célia blinked, not what she expected. Confederacy, really? The other state hated the guy. So why be thankful of him?

"Not really Connie but the fact that the Civil War happened." Tess clarified, munching on her index finger.

"Why?"

"Well, if it didn't happen then I wouldn't exist."

Célia thought for a second. She hadn't really thought of that. If the Civil War didn't happen when the west side wouldn't have split. Tess wouldn't be here without Confederacy.

She stole a glance at the state. The other state's hair was dark brown while her eyes were bluish-gray.

A constant reminder of Confederacy, a mirror image.

-

Célia struggled as the wind blew the yellow tablecloth off the picnic table.

She groaned as it landed near a tree.

Grumbling under his breath, the teen marched over and picked the bundle up.

Stomping over to the table, she threw the cloth down and began to spread it out.

Célia grunted as the wind blew it in her face.

Victor snickered at her from his place on the porch.

"Need some help?" He yelled as the whole tablecloth smacked into her.

"Yea-EEK."

Victor snorted but got up from his seat.

Pulling the cloth off her head, he helped spread it out.

Célia grunted her thanks and pulled the table cloth down.

As Victor tugged the tablecloth onto a clip under the table, Célia did the same.

They moved on to the longer sides, repeating the process.

Célia practically collapsed onto the seat.

The other state chuckled and sat next to her.

Laying her head on the table, the girl decided this was her chance.

"What are you thankful for, Victor?" She asked, pressing her right ear on the table.

Victor tapped his nails on the table rhythmically.

"Hmmmm, I don't know. Time, I guess." He shrugged.

"Time? Why time?" Célia questioned, following the movements of his nails.

Victor shrugged. "As time passed our lives got easier, I guess. Before the Revolution, there was constant worry over money, food, what happens if England returns. When the acts came it was absolute misery, especially for Marcus. The war started, we managed to pull through. After that, we didn't worry as much. The family grew and shit, we were comfortable. The Civil War happened, stuff was bad but it passed. We all recovered and moved on." He paused, "time helps us fix problems and get better."

Célia stared at him for a moment.

To be honest, Célia didn't really know Victor. She was only introduced to him after the Civil War. Before then, she barely knew Victor existed. He was always gone.

"Time changes people and the things around us." Victor concluded, picking at his nails.

Without missing a beat Célia added. "The other states say that you've changed."

Victor stilled, "what?"

"You were a different person before the Civil War."

Célia thought back to when she first met Victor. He was so cheerful and loud. Now that she's thinking about it. It didn't make any sense, he was so....well...quiet before.

What happened?

"I don't know what you're talking about." Victor denied, not looking at her.

"But-" Célia started but was cut off by Victor getting up and storming away.

-

Célia bit into the apple as she watched Elan(Alaska) make the picnic table

She huffed as Elan climbed the bench to put a plate on the table.

Dropping her apple, Célia walked over to him.

Bending down, Célia asked. "Would you like for me to help you?"

"Yea." The disgruntled state muttered.

The girl smiled at him as she pulled the plates out.

"You're so small and cute." She gushed, patting his head.

Elan glared at her, well he tried to. He looked more like an angry kitten.

Smiling, Célia set the plates down one by one before moving onto another table.

Not pausing her work, Célia dropped the question.

"What are you thankful for?"

The teen could feel Elan's stare.

"For Mama." He replied as if it was obvious.

"Mama's the one that takes care of us. He tries his best to make sure we're happy. He's the one that took us all in. If Mama never went looking for me then I would have never gotten out." Elan continued, his admiration of Mom shining through.

Célia smiled softly.

-

Célia watched Orin, she had been for some time now.

If there was one person Célia wanted to ask what they were thankful for, it was Orin.

Unlike with Victor, Célia grew up with Orin and noticed the change quicker. In France, Orin was always reading. Surprisingly, he read a lot of romance books. She never found out why he read so many. He was always a social butterfly. More cheerful and constantly curious. All, Célia knew was that the change was caused by the Louisiana Purchase.

"What do you want!?" Orin snapped, not taking her staring any longer.

Célia paused before replying.

"What are you thankful for?"

Orin stared at her.

"Really!? That's it?" He groaned.

"I don't know, family or some shit," Orin muttered.

"What's the point of being rude?" Célia asked, fed up with Orin's continuous attitude.

"There is no point. I am because I fucking can." He sneered.

"Is it because of Confederacy?"

Orin froze, "what?"

"Or France?" Célia knew she was pushing it but she wanted to know. To help or something.

Orin growled, "no!"

"God, can't you leave me alone? It's not because of that asshole or the perverted frog" He croaked before throwing open the porch door and stomping inside.

Célia winced as the door was slammed closed.

Why was she so bad at this?

-

Célia squealed in delight as she savored the turkey.

Josephine chuckled in amusement.

Relaxing, Célia stared at the stars.

It was always best to celebrate at night.

"I'm glad Mom's sick." She told Josephine without looking at her.

Josephine snorted before going back to her meal.

Célia turned to her.

"You what I'm grateful for?"

The ex-pirate raised an eyebrow.

"That the other countries haven't discovered us yet." Célia answered, taking a big spoon full of mashed potatoes.

"Oh?"

"I mean, isn't it a good thing? We can relax without having any countries bother us or nag Mom about our existence." Célia continued.

Josephine nodded then smirked. "I think Noah wouldn't mind if France bothered him, though."

They both laughed.

Célia stared at the rest of their family.

"What are you thankful for, Joey?"

"Family, duh." Josephine declared, tapping her plate.

Célia grinned. 

(Note - 

With the Louisiana scene, I haven't changed it yet but she's not a psychopath anymore. I actually have a better idea. So oof. For West Virginia, I decided long ago that she was not gonna have green eyes and blonde hair. The story was kinda rough. I don't have a fun fact for today so here's a little rant I pre-wrote.

Also I've decided that I want to try updating every Friday instead of every 4 days. 

What is with people having Massachusetts use lobsterback as an insult, like, the fuck!? I've never heard someone call someone else, lobsterback. Who the fuck calls someone a lobsterback. Maybe it's because I don't live straight on the coast? But the thing is the coast is like a 2-3 hours drive from my town. Do more coastal people actually call each other lobsterback? Looked it up mid-way through this mini-rant. Apparently, colonists used it as an insult!? I'm sorry but there's no fucking way that's still an insult today. Who the heck would actually get offended by being called a lobsterback!? I would just start laughing or just be confused. 

Are there any stereotypes for Massachusetts that people have? Because I wanna hear that shit. I'll give you guys 2 that are correct. We love coffee and seafood to death. 

Words - 3677)