Imagine Your F/o - Tumblr Posts

We need more of whumpees who are stressed, skittish and sleep-deprived and caretakers who know just the Secret Weapon to help them relax. They’ll be subtle about it, though, i.e. making idle conversation while casually carding a hand through Whumpee’s hair until A) Whumpee’s practically purring under their touch or B) They’re still trying to protest in little grumpy mumbles as they doze off. 

Bonus points if Whumpee later asks them how they knew something like that would put them to sleep and Caretaker plays dumb. “Oh, does it? I never noticed!”

TW: past abuse. trauma theme.

—- + -—

Whatever happened in the past, it robbed you of something. Choices were so fickle, people were so hard to please, and it took a great toll on you blindly walking on eggshells everyday.

You should’ve seen the look in your F/O’s eyes when they learnt of this. It wasn’t a crazy or disgusted look, never. It was just… hollow and lost. A labyrinth of feelings spearing through them: rage at the person(s) who did this, painful vulnerability that they weren’t there to shield their beloved, utter confusion at why anybody would even dare to think such things of you— much less act them out… and determination. The determination to show you that you can and have proved your abuser wrong.

Your F/O is there to commemorate the good days. They’ll greet each beautiful morning and send off each graceful night with your stunning smile in mind. Even when the moment comes that you doubt your past, they make sure to come close — whether literally or figuratively — and list off all of the amazing things you were able to do despite the pain brought by people who were supposed to cherish you (even if you think the only remarkable thing you did was getting out of bed for two seconds.) The past tried to destroy you, and you endured even when it seemed hopeless. It’s okay to rest now, your F/O loves each and every “broken” part of you.

Your F/O is there to remind you you’re not alone when the world has chosen you to play Atlas. No matter how much you could try to convince them otherwise, they’ll always reply with a gentle (yet pointed) look, because “Even if this is you being a burden, I’d still carry something ten times heavier just to spend a few moments with you.” They’ll encourage you to allow yourself soft moments… coax you to let down your walls around them— as far as you’re comfortable, of course… happily give you small reasons to greet each day alongside them… ease in each and every awe-inspiring thing about you so you can at least see a fraction of yourself the way they see you…

Your F/O is simply, endlessly, lovingly there.

Okay not one of my official imagines but I can’t get over the thought of your F/O gently laying their fingertips under a mug to help you drink.

Oh, wait… context…

So, if you’re a person who trembles (for me it’s anxiety and Life that causes it, but just for any reason), then imagine your F/O noticing. They don’t act patronizing, but they can see the frustration building between your brows when the cup you’re trying to drink from looks like it’s containing a tsunami, the shaking walls of the cup clashing against your teeth as you try to take sips.

Imagine them silently sitting/laying next to you, perhaps as you’re fighting raging tears that make you shy away from them. Imagine the soft touch of your F/O’s fingers just barely grazing over your hand and grounding you, bearing the cup’s weight so you can drink in peace and take a breather (like you deserve). It’s not seen as a grand gesture, just a wordless exchange where they saw you struggling and wanted to make life that much easier for you.

Imagine your parental f/o(s) singing Graham’s Lullaby (King’s Quest) to you…

Imagine your F/O… but imagine them flawless.

Their dorky rambles you can’t help but pay close attention to, even if you have no idea what they’re about? Nope. The smirk you love so much, perhaps that chuckle of theirs? Forget it. All of those little “imperfections”: their tragic past, their cockiness, their flawed looks? None of that.

Except… It feels wrong now. This isn’t your F/O; this is a mundane, stereotypical, so-horribly-wrong shell.

You didn’t fall in love with a perfect being because your F/O is perfect to you. It’s a beautiful thing, isn’t it? To feel such a dedicated, yearning, unrelenting love for someone with their flaws, not despite them. Even if they can’t see it in themselves, you’d never dream of them being a regret or a mistake. Your F/O is just so imperfectly them.

… So why would your F/O ever wish for a “flawless” you?

Yes, all that was said about them in the paragraphs above applies to you. No matter how hard it may be to believe it, your F/O wants you with all your “burdens”. They want you through breakdowns and panic attacks, through triggers and relapses. They want to be your comfort, your light in the darkness, your strength.

They’re just so happy they get the honor of being with their beloved, someone who is so imperfectly you.

A muttered curse interrupts you and your F/O’s conversation. Where soft words were once flowing so lightly in the morning kitchen light, a tense silence now stood.

“…F/O?”

Your beloved rushes to the nearest sink, dipping their hand under the rushing tap water. “That knife— Love, could you get me a band-aid?”

Your heartbeat quickens, yet you retrieve the nearest first-aid your F/O might need, soft words whispered as your body presses up against theirs. Think about how vulnerable they allow themself to be with you, eyes shying away from their cut. So relaxed and loving, they wholly trust in you to take care of them. Despite the blood or equivalent that might be coming from the cut, you gingerly cover it with the utmost care— so focused, you probably missed that soft gaze and appreciative blush your F/O is helpless to hide.

“And… boom. Disaster averted.” You give their ‘wound’ one last look until you send a reassuring smile your beloved’s way.

“Thank you, love.” Maybe the words were barely audible in their stoic silence as they attempted to rip their flustered gaze away from you, or they had a grin of their own just by being so tenderly cared for by none other than their favorite person. “Now I have to figure out how to cut those—”

Your soft hold on their wrist stops them from turning away. “Wait! You forgot the last step.”

“What?” they reply, a clueless gaze directed at their own finger.

“This…” You clasp your F/O’s hurt hand oh-so gingerly, yet your velvet-like touch against their skin leaves electricity dancing up and down their arm. You leave a feather-soft kiss against their band-aid, then pressing your lips to their knuckles, too. Your F/O — no matter how stoic or flirty they normally might be — freezes in a heartstring-pulling stupor, having to perform a full reboot (whether literally or figuratively) before they can even think of stuttering out a response. All they can see is you, the love of their life, and there’s nothing they’d rather be graced with.

They’d ask how someone like them ended up with an ethereal being like you, but they don’t want to tempt the fates. Your F/O would much rather spend their time basking in your presence, endlessly thankful for being able to exist alongside you.

You’re tired.

Worn out, yes… but also tired of coming to your F/O broken, getting comforted — if either by soothing words or their gentle touches — and coming back to them the next day, re-broken with the same problem like a machine in disrepair.

Why would your F/O stick around to watch the same train wreck? To watch their patience and love be wasted every time you are sent off to meet the thing or person that searches to tear you down? What opportunity do they see in trying to weather away a cruelty that is already done and will be done again and again?

Why are they here?

However, dear reader, it’s a different matter to your F/O. To put it simply, they care for you deeply. Light fills every crack and crevice in them where darkness once took root just when they see your eyes shine in that unique way when you're whisked too far away into your passion to notice them being so drunk on their love. When the tide of despair rises, you won’t be deserted. Even when you’ll inevitably wake up, eyes rimmed with loss of sleep and regret… your F/O will still be beside you to whisk away your doubts, like you’ve done for them so many times.

You’re not hard work that’s ruined or hours of someone else’s day being wasted. You’re already a masterpiece in your F/O’s eyes, and if they have to assure you everyday for the next eternity just to see how bright your colors truly are— to flip off the world’s cruelty and make you forget your troubles, they gladly would. You’re not a chore to them, you’re their beloved, their treasure.

Your F/O would kiss away every wound and curse the world for not treating you kindly. No matter how many times your faith in the world shakes, they’ll always stand beside you during the tremors and hold your hand.

Your F/O would take a “No” from you and promptly back off the second that word falls from your lips.

Your F/O would make sure to check with you and ask for your consent before even trying to speak on your behalf.

Your F/O would listen, not speak over you or trample over your words to get to their own point.

Your F/O would never try to weasel out a different response from you or wear you down until you buckle at their every whim.

After all, you are the one they adore.

They don’t want to mold you into the neighbour down the street, the flawless person you wish you could be, nor the character you think they should pick over you. Nothing — no amount of “merciful” lies, acts, or people-pleasing — will ever be as magnificent in their eyes as you simply existing. Even if you can’t see it, their love-stricken words and/or yearning gaze are only for you.

And when your “home” finally grows tired of slipping hatred under your door? Your F/O will rest beside you. Perhaps the others in your life have done the exact opposite of the four statements I made at the start, but your beloved wants you to know that they would silence the whole world just to make your voice heard.

Imagine your F/O gently yet sternly telling you that “Whatever you want” can’t always be your answer. While it might’ve been pleasing for others to hear, they’ll try their hardest to coax solid “Yes” or “No” answers from you, to get to know you as you are and never as what the others wanted you to be. You might not completely know yourself, but your F/O would never hesitate to look for your true colors beside you.

They want to familiarise themself with every thought and feeling that you are willing to share with them. Your F/O is simply honored that you want to sail the seven seas of your self-discovery with them. And when the fates inevitably send a storm your way? They’ll always be your anchor, your place to rest.

… Maybe the true home you were searching for is much closer than you previously thought.

Imagine your f/o flopping their head into your lap and letting you pet their hair when they’re stressed out or just needing affection

TW: past abuse. abandonment issues. self-doubt. intrusive thoughts. self-hate statments that S/I believes but are not true. trust issues (kinda). 750+ words.

— - + - —

You had exposed yourself to your F/O. You showed them your raw, emotional, troubled self… but they were still here. Something in your mind doesn’t fit right, panic rising as it washes over the euphoria you had experienced alongside your beloved under their tender care.

Because they were there.

Why hadn’t your F/O left? Why had they stayed so long? So many had abandoned you by this point, why don’t they? Is there an endgame to this? You are a freak, a horror, a traumatized lump of human flesh… You’ll poison them… Why can’t they just see that and leave already? (Not to mention the other side of your raging mind: the one on its knees, the one that grovels and begs and dehumanizes itself into a living joke just to have another person give you a second of attention…)

Deep down, you know why the thoughts are there.

You are expecting abandonment.

Every moment your F/O welcomes you into their warm embrace oh-so cruelly, you know you’re falling further and further for them. But you can’t allow yourself to do that.

You are expecting abandonment.

So much so that you make a fool of yourself and show your most vulnerable sides to them and hope it wards your F/O off… because it’s easier to say that they left because of your actions than to wait a lifetime for them only to realize their absence is the only answer you’ll ever get.

You are expecting a—

“Love?”

You dry your tears against your shirt as discreetly as possible, red eyes darting to and fro—  anywhere away from your F/O’s. “…Yeah?” You cringe at the cracks in your own voice, How dare you not be able to hide this better? How dare you burden them?

Your F/O leans closer just the tiniest bit. “Are you feeling okay?”

“I’m fine,” you say, lips pressed tight.

“C’mon, S/I, you’re underestimating me if you think I can’t notice when you’re upset.” They offer a reassuring smile, although it wavers as your guilty lack of response hangs in the still air. “… Just… I won’t force you, okay? But I know you aren’t feeling well, and that it’s not healthy to keep it all in like this.”

Your voice doesn’t disrupt the silence. A single syllable could break down the dam holding back your sobs, God, you’re a crybaby. You’re weak, pathetic.

“Hey, love, could you please look at me?”

Your line of sight wavers, yet it’s your F/O’s gentle hold and their warm gaze that attracts your own like a magnet’s fated pull.

“There you are,” they utter. “You never were, never are, and never will be a burden, S/I, I love you just as you are. This isn’t a punishment and I will never use it against you. I just want to make sure you’re alright… Like all of those times you did the same to me, ok?”

As calm and tender as they are, there are still signs of breakage in your F/O’s voice. They want to banish — perhaps even worse — whoever taught you those self-damaging beliefs in the first place, but your health comes first. When you’re tangled up in barbs of false promises and toxic love, all your F/O wishes to do is untangle you with a touch of silk and show you what warmth is like. They want to chase those swarms of bad thoughts away and kiss your forehead at night when they’re sure the only thing in your mind is soft dreams of carelessness when you finally let yourself feel safe in their arms.

Some time after their reassurances, your walls break— perhaps for the first time in front of them. Maybe it’s loud and messy whilst your F/O gathers you in their arms, or maybe your tears are silent until you succumb and press yourself against their chest.

And by the end?

“Can I ask you… something…?” You hesitate, doubt still plaguing that one place in your mind.

Your F/O places a kiss against your temple. “Always, love.”

“I mean…” Your gaze wanders off. “It’s a bit unnecessary, maybe even childish…”

“As long as it’s you? As long as you think it’s important and it matters to making you feel safe? It’ll never be unnecessary.”

“… Could you promise…?”

They nod and a small, wonderful smile graces their features. “You don’t ever have to worry about me leaving, S/I. I promise that I’ll always be here for you, that you’ll always be worth waiting for.”

TW: suggestions to current abuse.

— - + - —

All the imagines for survivors I’ve seen are a snapshot of the aftermath, of being out and dealing with the beasts lurking in your mind. They hold a special place in my heart, in my deepest wishes for the future, in the scrap of hopeless romanticism I have left.

But this is for the ones who are still There and can’t get out.

It breaks your F/O’s heart when they find out. No matter how it came to be known — from the quietest murmur of truth to a self-deprecating quip others would laugh at — they’ll feel a tug of wrongness, of pain in their core. In times of tears, they’ll hurt with you because you are more than worth hurting for.

You can let yourself unravel in their embrace. All the masks in the world couldn’t work on your F/O; you’re their beloved, not their one-second crush or a toy to discard, and they would never dare to turn a blind eye to your words or your pain. From the texts you can only send at an hour unholy enough to go undetected to the bitter tears that have been forced into silence, they want all of you. Maybe your F/O will pull enough strings to get you away, or perhaps they’re helpless to do anything but whisper truths into your ear when the world tells you you’re worthless, but nothing on this Earth and beyond can dissuade them from being right next to you every step of the way.

They’ll celebrate your strength on the better days, making fun of the sorry people who try to get to you and mockingly plot against them (whether they actually carry out said plan depends on the F/O). They’ll hold you on the worst days where you fear even thinking badly of those who berate you, squeezing your hand and murmuring reassurances in a soft croon. They’ll write down your triggers to keep you safe, remind you to take care of yourself and your body, assure you that a day will come beyond this night and that they’ll liberally treat you like the royalty you are once you’re free.

Your F/O is more than willing to peel away the layers of guilt and hate and doubt with a silk touch, to reach your most vulnerable self and show you unconditional warmth and love.

All you have to do is let them.

Sometimes, the brain gets ugly. Thoughts were never a pretty thing to begin with, coming unannounced. So, I offer this just-as-pretty reminder.

Your F/O misses you when you’re gone, in all senses of the word.

With you, your F/O doesn’t only feel safe, they are safe. When they rest in your arms, all they feel is safety and warmth wrapped around them like the softest of blankets simply because they're listening to, being with, breathing in you. Your words bring nothing but joy to your F/O’s mind, brain humming with fulfillment when you grace them with everything from your mundane tasks to the unexpected highs and lows. You won’t break or taint your F/O, especially not when you define what an angel is to them. The day might drag on behind them, their thoughts might be like lead weights, but how could they ever drag their feet when they know you are the one at the finish line?

Without you, their world would be flavorless. Everything looks dark to your F/O when your smile isn’t there to shine a light on their days, when your comments aren’t there to wrestle a chuckle out of the dreariest nights. No matter if their descent into love started the moment they laid their eyes on you, or if it was slow and lulling, they wish only to stay with you. Why would they want anything else from this life when you teach them what it feels to love so hopelessly, so endlessly every day?

Even if your F/O had all the wishes in the world, they would never even think of using one of them to wish you away.

You were expecting to be cast away the moment your emotions start simmering so painfully. Waiting for your two beloveds to scowl and to spare each other of your burdens, for your tears to dry against the ceiling fan’s sharp gusts… you instead feel one of your F/Os’ chest pressed up against your own form, their breath fluttering over the crook of your shoulder— you feel the other’s hands (perhaps soft or calloused, perhaps cold or warm) lay on your frigid skin as they kiss away the tears that follow.

You curl into yourself, letting out a tired breath and asking them Why are they still here? Still with you?

“Because we love you,” your big spoon reasons simply, tilting themselves away just slightly to litter an unbroken chain of kisses that wraps around your shoulders like a warm scarf that would protect you from the biting winds.

Your lover leans forward to gingerly rest their forehead against yours, face still cradled by their mellow hold. “To show that you don’t have to wait for the other shoe to drop.” Your F/O shepherds more tears away, gentle eyes waiting for yours to meet. “Because we want to show you that you’re loved, and that you deserve all of it. You deserve so much more than how life’s been treating you.”

The furrowed brow and confused stare they get in return makes your lover tsk. Nonetheless, your F/Os continue enveloping your figure, washing away the harsh words burned into your mind with their soft promises and affirmations, two pairs of hands haphazardly stretching a blanket over the three of you. The all-consuming warmth reaches something deeper, a thrall too heavy and comfortable for you to keep your attention on how the world was hiding behind your drooping eyelids.

Your eyes finally slip close, falling endlessly into your mind only to land on the satin echoes of your F/Os’ assurances. The morning might bring the guilt of too many hours slept, the day might come with its challenges, the night might summon your bad dreams— but nothing in this or any other world would deter either of your F/Os from picking up and loving every “broken” piece of you.

Your feelings had always been kept under lock and key. Maybe you and your F/O bonded over this shared habit, or perhaps they see a paradox of the person they love paired with this trait — having your emotions bottled so tightly isn’t healthy! They want to know and adore all of you, why don’t you simply let them? Nonetheless, you were the strong one.

So why did you feel so weak?

It was a small incident, really. Maybe the food you were eating went cold or a particularly annoying noise was grating against your ears; your F/O can’t help but notice the way your own walls crumble down before you, hands shaking, tears threatening to spill, perhaps a wayward fist slamming down on the nearest surface as the insufferable emotions simmer under your skin.

Soon enough, your F/O’s presence is wrapping around you, baffled yet filled with zeal, an eager resolve to chase away this eclipse and see the stunning joy on your face.

They coax you from your work and do their best to fix what had been broken/get somewhere away from the stressor (yes, even if they were perfectly content prior to this. They don’t wish to return there — how could they ever enjoy themselves knowing their beloved is in pain?) They listen to any teary rant you might have, no matter how incoherent or simple it might be. If you want, your F/O will sit beside you, breathing in sync as you lay in the dark, silent room where both of you can simply exist. Your beloved hugs you close the moment you wish it, murmuring soft words and stories into your ear so that the beast that tormented you might go back to sleep.

You don’t have to be strong all the time, not when you’re with them. And when the time comes your strength is needed? Your F/O will be right beside you to carry the load.

I present to you the best logical solution for when the treacherous thoughts whirls around you once more: You can list out all your F/O’s positive qualities, list yours, and compare the two to get an accurate reading for how worthy you are!

It makes sense! It’s easy!

… Right?

You lay out a paper in front of you, getting hold of your favorite utensil and beginning to scribble down your F/O’s name as a torrent of words and compliments follows. It starts out with the trickle of simple phrases like “determined, pretty, hard worker” before you’re smiling towards your paper, structured words tangling into your own croons and praises. Maybe you even laugh awkwardly as you reread what ends up looking like a gush written by a giggling schoolgirl. God, you’re so lucky to just breathe close to your F/O, not to mention have this bond with them…

Now, to write about yourself!

…Your words stutter to a stop.

Physical beauty? No— well, maybe… but no. Look at your F/O! They’re awe-inspiring and you’re simply not. All your mind could sputter out was “average at best.”

Selflessness? No, you can’t flatter yourself too much! Imagine how selfish it would be to just flaunt how chivalrous and selfless you are… No, you can’t be selfless.

Intelligence? Perhaps. But still, you blunder and fall. No. Smart people wouldn’t do that. How dare you try to call yourself smart?

Personality—? Don’t even try. You're too loud and too quiet and too annoying and too reclusive… You’re too little! Too much! Look at how perfect your F/O can be, and then look at yourself.

Sighing, you set your utensil down and lay your head down on the desk, facing away from the cursed paper.

What was even the point?

***

Golden sunlight bids you good morning. You nuzzle further into the downy softness beneath you, gasping when the emotions and memories flood back. When did you ever… lay down…?

You shake your head, sitting up in bed and finding a folded piece of paper. Through bleary eyes, perhaps only after fetching your glasses or a better light source, you find your name scribbled down just how it looked last night… yet now your F/O’s handwriting flows after it.

Words like “gorgeous” and “amazing” seem fanciful at first— Are you sure this isn’t a dream? However, your loved one’s words meander through the page and into sweet sentences highlighting every part of you your F/O has met and hopes to meet. Their letters dance on the page. It’s easy to tell how lovestruck they were — where they were chuckling at the memories you made together and where they had pounced back onto the paper, bursting with ideas everytime they thought their well of praises had dried.

Your F/O loves you. Maybe you don’t see it yet, maybe the insecurities are telling you otherwise. Regardless, they couldn’t fathom a single reason as to why they’d abandon you. Your F/O is happy to show you just how deep their love for you runs until the day comes you’re sure of your worth.

If you can’t see it for yourself, let them be your eyes.

Hello, this is my first time ever requesting something on here, so I will keep it simple. Could you do something where the reader’s f/o comforts them and reassures them that they’re not a burden and they aren’t too much(personality wise) after people have made them feel that way their entire life? You don’t have to if this is too much :)

Thank you!! p.s. I absolutely love your work, it’s so comforting <333

aww, thank you, anon! /gen and thank you for reading my work. also this is my first request, so at least we’re in this together :P sorry if this took too long, btw

You didn’t understand. Couldn’t fathom it.

Your F/O… well, they’re them. They’re awe-inspiring, the one who hung the moon and stars in the sky yet could make any light seem dull when compared to them. Even if not many see it, just seeing them makes your world sing with Shakespearean rhymes.

Then… there’s you.

The off-key note. Your thoughts summed you up as the screeching in the background that would wake your F/O from their love-filled dreams, not be the star of them. And they’d notice that soon enough, right? That’s what your thoughts told you: Wait and see how the apple of their eye rots. The other shoe will drop. And…

It never did.

Not because your F/O is blind to your flaws, but because they accept them. 999 days of misery are worth it to see your smile on the 1,000th day. Even so, they don’t love you for your smile. Not for your looks, nor for a specific aspect of your personality.

After all, if your F/O wanted a “perfect” partner who didn’t do anything but wear a sewed-on smile, they would’ve married the shadow tied to their feet. Your F/O loves you for who you are. From your skin to the marrow of your bones. From your despair to your bursts of hyperactivity.

No one curses the Sun when it’s shrouded by clouds, and it only shines brighter when a new day dawns. So what reason do they have to stop loving you the moment you frown?

What reason do they have to stop loving you the moment you need it most?

hmm

if I post my self-insert fics (probably as “x readers” cuz those are my life support) would anyone be at all interested in those?

sometimes when things are really hard, words aren’t helpful. your f/o would just sit/lie with you for as long as you need and comfort you, whether that’s holding your or stroking your hair or just existing in the same room. they just want to do whatever they can to make you feel even a little better

Imagine your f/o running off in a hurry, then stopping. They run back to you, give you a kiss on the cheek, and run off again.

whatever you do. DO NOT imagine your romantic f/o doing your nails. hands brushing so intimately as they make sure not to get any polish on your skin, squinting as they focus. they're not looking at your face at all but you're staring at them all focused, and you can feel their breath on the back of your hand.

maybe they absentmindedly hum when theyre focused like this, or maybe you can feel the vibrations of them tapping their feet on the ground.

and maybe, just maybe, inbetween hands they'll look up and smile before giving you a shy peck and turning back to their work.

but dont imagine that....!!!