˜"*°•.˜"*°•Day 1– Day 3•°*"˜.•°*"˜
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𝗢𝘂𝗿 𝗻𝗲𝗿𝘃𝗲𝘀 𝘄𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝗯𝗿𝗮𝗶𝗱𝗲𝗱 𝘂𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝗰𝗲𝗶𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗿𝘀
𝗧𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝘄𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝗴𝗹𝗼𝘄 𝗶𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗱𝗮𝗿𝗸, 𝗵𝗮𝗻𝗴𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗿 𝗾𝘂𝗲𝗲𝗻-𝘀𝗶𝘇𝗲𝗱
𝗣𝘂𝗿𝗽𝗹𝗲 𝘄𝗮𝘃𝗲𝘀 𝗼𝗳 𝗮𝗻𝗰𝗶𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝗰𝗵𝗲𝗺𝗶𝗰𝗮𝗹𝘀 𝗷𝘂𝘀𝘁 𝘄𝗵𝗶𝘀𝗽𝗲𝗿!
𝗗𝗶𝗱 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿 𝗯𝘂𝗶𝗹𝗱 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝘁𝗵𝗼𝘀𝗲 𝗲𝗻𝗱𝗮𝗻𝗴𝗲𝗿𝗲𝗱 𝗯𝗼𝗻𝗲𝘀?
𝗪𝗲𝗹𝗹, 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗴𝗿𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗱 𝗹𝗼𝗼𝗸𝘀 𝘀𝗼𝗳𝘁 𝗲𝗻𝗼𝘂𝗴𝗵 𝘁𝗼 𝗯𝘂𝗿𝘆 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘄!
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~.~.~.~
FOURTEEN YEARS LATER
~.~.~.~
"Um, this is sorta weird, y'know? Hah. . .yeah. Because I've never had the courage to visit you. . .well, by myself, I guess. And, well, I never got the chance to know you, and vice versa. But, now I feel like I'm ready, because this week has taught me a lot about myself, and a lot about you."
The lengthiest of pauses, trying to come to terms with how to say the right thing.
"So, hi, Dad."
~.~.~.~
ONE WEEK EARLIER
~.~.~.~
Day 1
She was told that she looked more like her dad than her mom. And that sucked, because Macey couldn't see it. She'd seen a million different pictures of her dad, enough where she knew what he looked like, like she knew the periodic table of elements. The face had been etched in her mind, ranging from monochrome to singing colours.
She remembered being ten-years-old, standing in front of her bathroom mirror. Peering at her reflection and side-eyeing the photo she'd tucked into the mirror's frame. Face shape? No. She just couldn't see it. Aunt Mabel claimed it to be true one night, and her word was as true as Macey was going to get, apparently.
Heck, Macey had even tried putting a picture of both her mom and her dad into a photo combiner to see if the result would look like her. Spoiler alert, it hadn't.
Growing up in the Gleeful-von Kaiser/Southeast household was a bit unconventional. At least, that's what Macey learned when she actually made friends of her own. Her 'family' consisted of her actual mom, Pacifica Southeast, her Aunt Mabel and Uncle Jenson, her cousin Vicky, and occasionally a vagabond who came and went as he pleased.
Having three adults around would've sounded like a nightmare, but all of them had busy schedules, so it seemed as though they were around an average amount. But to Macey it just felt weird. Because she didn't feel like she fit in.
She didn't really look like her mom, and she didn't really look like her Aunt Mabel. Nor did she look like her Uncle Jenson. And she only looked like her cousin Vicky when Vicky tinted her hair a lighter shade of brown (which only happened like twice).
Not to mention, everyone in the house was special in some way that wasn't inherited.
"When is he coming in again?" Aunt Mabel strolled into the sitting room, a briefcase still lodged in between her fingers. Macey really admired her
YOU ARE READING
when somebody needs you
FanfictionThird time's the charm, isn't that how the phrase goes? Or, rather, is it three strikes, you're out? For Dipper Gleeful, it tends to fall onto the latter. The boy could get anyone he should desire, given his net-worth, his angelic genetics (thanks M...
