#real father

[chloesimaginationthings]

You know Henry’s final speech went hard in FNAF

[carlton01]

Author Carlton Holden tackles grief over the loss of his Uncle Benny and the recent jaw-dropper about his real father in this episode of his podcast on Spotify https://open.spotify.com/show/4Nj83ZgrzjK1tN81zLv6la #bereavement #deathinthefamily #uncle #realfather #ancestry #podcast #author #carltonholden

[prlssprfctn]

Jason: Bruce used to say that I have this unhealthy habit of considering older women my mother figures and automatically agreeing with anything they say.

Talia: Beloved was not wrong. Honestly, you should focus more on your personal goals and not attach to women who show you even an ounce of kindness. Be colder.

Jason: Hey, good advice, mom.

Talia: ...Jason—

[lollitree]

After seeing what the ZA protags look like I need everyone to know how funny it is that I've been drawing this for years

[venussmilk]

ik they dont have phones but u cant tell me chilchuck wouldnt go crazy on facebook reels

[yourapple56-blog]

Charles Stanley Gifford!

Marilyn Monroe's biological father!

Good looking, don't you think?

[editingz0ne]

apparently this website thought this tweet was about my real dad and not my internet father amazingphil

[theartistonthemoon]

I ain’t saying NOTHING

[chloesimaginationthings]

The FNAF Vanessas meet their younger selves..

[mylittleredgirl]

father’s day is funny in my family because my dad is so angry this holiday exists that it’s the one day of the year i am NOT allowed to call him. we are officially estranged for 24 hours a year. wishing him a happy father’s day is a declaration of hostilities.

and like he is a good dad with a good dad, there’s no traumatic backstory to this, he just hates The Man telling him what to do so much that it’s a personal affront that someone decided that anyone is supposed to feel a thing on a specific day or, god forbid, spend their hard earned dollars because shaving commercials tell them to. if a dad did his job right (be a good father who unconditionally loves his kids), his kids should love him 364 days a year but FUCK the 365th day to spite hallmark and gillette specifically and you know what. i respect it.

[brotherhumphrey]

ate one of the berries from the bushes in the woods just a short way outside the monastery and had a terrifying dream of something called 'microsoft authenticator'. it was a great drooling beast; it was a shadow over the people, looming from above, snarling sometimes so that they would remember it was there. i believe it may have been the footman of satan himself. i woke up in the infirmary sweating and shaking

[ari-ana-bel-la]

Hello queen. You are my favourite writer on tumblr. I'm always so excited when I see that you updated something. Could I please request Carlos daughter being a huge Barcelona football fan instead of Real Madrid. And when the drivers all together watch a game against those two and Real wins, Carlos daughter running to Charles cause her father made her team lose

Thank you so much 💓

Real vs Barca

The paddock buzzed with its usual pre-race energy. Engineers ran last-minute checks, journalists hovered with their microphones at the ready, and fans crowded the stands, hoping for a glimpse of their favorite drivers. But amid all the racing chaos, Carlos had only one thing on his mind today: El Clásico.

It wasn’t just any match—it was Real Madrid vs. Barcelona. A day of rivalry, passion, and, most importantly, a chance for him to rub in Madrid’s superiority once and for all.

But there was one major problem.

His own daughter, Yn, was a Barcelona fan.

Carlos still didn’t understand how it happened. He had done everything right. When Yn was born, he had immediately wrapped her in a Real Madrid onesie, played Madrid anthems in the nursery, and even taught her to clap whenever he said “Hala Madrid.” For a while, it worked. She would happily wear Madrid’s white jersey, cheering along without question.

Then she turned four.

Suddenly, she had opinions. Suddenly, she loved FC Barcelona.

It had started with her favorite color—blue. Then it was the cool Barcelona crest, then the way her little heart decided Gavi was her favorite player. And now, today, in the motorhome filled with drivers who came to watch the game, she stood proudly in a tiny Barcelona jersey with Gavi’s name printed on the back.

Carlos groaned in despair.

“Mi amor, por favor, why are you doing this to me?” he sighed dramatically, kneeling to her level.

Yn giggled, her brown eyes sparkling mischievously. “Barca is the best, Papá!”

“No, mija, Madrid is the best,” Carlos corrected, fixing her jersey like he could erase the colors from existence. “We are Madridistas in this house.”

Yn shook her head firmly. “I am Barca.”

“Dios mío,” Carlos muttered, standing up as Max, Lando, Pierre, and Charles walked into the room, holding bowls of snacks and drinks.

“Are we ready for the drama?” Lando smirked, plopping onto the couch.

“The game or the father-daughter war?” Pierre teased, nodding toward Carlos, who had his arms crossed, glaring at the tiny Barcelona fan.

“The war,” Max answered, throwing a handful of popcorn into his mouth. “Because if Barca wins, Carlos might actually cry.”

Carlos groaned. “She’s four! She’s supposed to listen to me.”

“She’s four,” Charles corrected, leaning against the table with a smug grin. “She does what she wants.”

Yn grinned up at her uncle Charlie and reached her little arms out. “Up!”

Carlos watched in horror as his own daughter abandoned him and climbed into Charles’ arms, snuggling against him.

“Oh, come on!” Carlos threw his hands in the air. “She’s my daughter!”

“She’s also my niece,” Charles teased, poking Yn’s side and making her giggle. “And clearly, she has taste.”

“She does not have taste!” Carlos objected. “She’s four, she doesn’t even know what taste is!”

Yn gasped dramatically. “I do know! And Barca is better.”

Max whistled lowly. “Oof, Carlos, I think she’s got you there.”

Carlos covered his face with his hands. “I cannot believe this is happening.”

As the game started, the room filled with anticipation. Carlos sat on the couch, Yn nestled beside Charles, her little legs swinging off the edge. Every time Barcelona touched the ball, she cheered loudly, clapping her hands.

Carlos groaned. His own daughter was against him.

“She’s happy,” Charles said with a chuckle, rubbing Yn’s back.

“I am not,” Carlos deadpanned.

The game was intense. Real Madrid took the lead, and Carlos cheered loudly, pumping his fists in the air. Yn pouted, crossing her arms. Then Barcelona equalized, and she jumped up, screaming excitedly, throwing her little arms around Charles.

Carlos watched in betrayal.

When Real Madrid scored again, Carlos lifted his arms victoriously.

“¡Vamos! That’s what I’m talking about!” He grinned at Yn. “See, mi amor? Madrid is better.”

Yn stuck out her tongue at him. “Not true!”

The final minutes were nerve-wracking, but when the referee blew the whistle, the score read 2-1 to Real Madrid.

Carlos jumped up, celebrating like he had won a Grand Prix.

Yn, however, looked absolutely devastated. Her little face fell, her lip wobbling, eyes glassy with tears.

“Mi niña, don’t be sad,” Carlos said quickly, kneeling in front of her. “It’s just a game, okay? You’ll win next time.”

Yn sniffled. Then, her little eyebrows furrowed, and she glared at Carlos.

“This is your fault.”

Carlos blinked. “What?”

Yn stomped her tiny foot. “You were too happy! That’s why Barca lost!”

The entire room erupted into laughter.

“No, no, no,” Carlos quickly shook his head, trying to grab her hands, but Yn turned and ran straight into Charles’ arms.

Carlos was left, kneeling on the floor, watching as his daughter buried her little face into Charles’ chest while he rubbed her back comfortingly.

“Carlos,” Lando wheezed through laughter.

Pierre wiped a tear from his eye. “Man, you shouldn't have cheered so much for Real. Look at poor Yn.”

“Not my fault!” Carlos objected, still in shock. “Why am I the bad guy?”

Yn peeked up from Charles’ shoulder and glared at her Papá. “Because you made Barca lose.”

Carlos groaned dramatically. “This is the worst day of my life.”

Max clapped him on the back. “At least Madrid won?”

Carlos sighed, defeated, watching his daughter cling to Charles. He would need a new strategy. Maybe next season, he could convince her to switch teams. Until then… he had lost this battle.

But not the war.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♥︎♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Authors Note: Hey loves!I hope you enjoyed reading this story. My requests are always open for you.

-🩷🎀

[prettybabyimblue]

[theloreofmandy]

Yes, I know Mandy's father and mother were both smiling in the previous post, but that was a rare moment. Mandy's species doesn't tend to smile very much. That's a huge reason why Mandy almost never smiles in The Grim Adventures of Billy & Mandy.

[jessicawwcaww]

Father mulcahy kind of the character of all time. He’s a priest. He boxes. He’s cute as a button. He’s in with the black market. He’s in with the black market to get goods for orphans. He regularly fleeces his unit playing poker. For the orphans. His sister the Sister plays basketball. He tends bar so people will confess to him. He got drunk to preach about temperance. He says jocularity. Southern Baptist services are too forceful for him. He’s threatened violence on multiple occasions. Lesbians want him

[sqtorux]

they just get each other