Hi mae!! I hope you're having a great day!!! I'm not really good at requesting, so I'm sorry if I'm doing it wrong, lol. But could I request poly!marauders with a reader who has ocd? I just read your last ocd!reader and loved it so if you could make the situation where the reader is obsessed with things being equal, to the pont of how she holds her phone, and for example if she gets hurt on her thumb she tries to replicate the hurt on the other thumb so it's "equal" or if she's holding hands with someone or hugging someone she has to do it on the other side as well and the marauders noticing these thibg and comforting her? If you're not comfortable with writing about ocd anymore I understand completely, and thank you in advance!!
Hey angel, thanks for letting me know you'd be okay with just Remus! I hope you're having a great day too <3
cw: reader has a form ocd that can motivate self-harm
a/n: Please do not misconstrue my participation in the marauders fandom as support of JKR. If you’re new here and want to participate in the fandom, I encourage you to do so without participating in anything that would provide financial gain to her or her transphobic agendas
Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 969 words
“Did you move the laundry to the dryer?” you ask from inside the kitchen.
Remus rubs at an incriminating smudge of ash on the coffee table. Smoking out the window only works so long as you don’t find out about it. Sirius is shit at cleaning up his evidence, and Remus will be hearing it from you if you catch onto what he and his friends do when you’re not home. “Yeah.”
“Did you…take anything out first?”
“No, why?”
Your laugh is half sigh, but not the truly exasperated kind. You lean around the door that hides your laundry machines and hold up what appears to be a child’s jumper but looks an awful lot like one of Remus’. “This needed to lay flat to dry, lovely,” you say.
Remus grimaces. “Bollocks.”
“Sorry.”
“No, it’s my fault. We can donate it, maybe.”
You hum, piling the jumper into a laundry basket with the rest of your clothes. “Some kid will be happy to have it.”
You swing the basket in front of you and head for him. Remus prepares himself to be drowned in warm, clean-smelling cloth when you dump it out on the sofa for you both to begin folding. You smile at him putting away his book in anticipation, and in your distraction smack your hip against the corner of the kitchen counter on your way out.
Your features pinch in a wince. Remus winces with you. Then he sees the way your eyes move, and he’s standing before even thinking.
“Poor girl.” He takes the laundry basket, rubbing your hip consolingly and nudging you away from the offending corner. “Come sit down. Warm laundry cures all ails, I’m fairly sure that’s a saying somewhere.”
“Oh, yeah?” You smile distractedly.
“Mhm.” Remus herds you to the sofa, knowing he’s trapping you and knowing you know and hoping you don’t resent him for it. “Somewhere.”
You look amused for a moment longer, but when your eyes dart back to the kitchen your smile slips. The pinch of your mouth is somewhere between guilty and distressed. “Remus…”
He pushes you down by your shoulders so you’re sitting on the sofa. Softens his voice. “I know, love.”
You’re wanting to hurt your other hip. Once you’ve felt something on one side of your body, you feel required to replicate it on the other. Remus, for obvious reasons, doesn’t want you to. It puts you at odds.
He could handle you being upset with him, though he’d rather you not be. What he worries more about is that you’ll regret sharing this part of yourself with him. It’s intimate knowledge, confessions whispered in the dark of your room at night of things you’d rather not think about but can’t help thinking anyway, and Remus hopes you won’t feel like he’s using that knowledge against you now. He doesn’t know how to help you. It’s difficult to say whether he’s making things better or worse by putting himself between you and what you want; maybe the agony in your head is ten times worse than a matching bruise on your other hip would be, but Remus is acting on instinct.
He covers you in warm laundry and sits down beside you in it.
“I swear I lose a sock every time we do this,” he mutters, more to say something than for any real purpose. Remus is shit at this. “It’s not like they even leave the flat. Where do they go?”
He relaxes some when you pick up a pair of trousers and begin folding them. “Gnomes eat them.”
“I forgot for a moment I was living with a conspiracy theorist.”
You fold laundry for a while longer, but Remus can feel your unease growing. When you move to get up, his hand goes out on instinct to stop you. He’s careful to be gentle as he grasps your wrist.
“Stay and help me with this,” he says.
“I want to,” you reply. You look at him with tension all over your sweet face, frustration clashing with genuine stress. Remus’ chest throbs. “I just—I keep thinking that something’s going to happen.”
“What will, lovely?”
You press your lips tight.
Remus nods. “Okay.” You don’t want to say. Sometimes you’re alright with sharing—you’ve even laughed about the ridiculous ultimatums your mind supplies for you, when you’re in the right sort of mood—but this time you’re not. Remus casts his voice low and calm. “If something were to happen, it wouldn’t be your fault. You haven’t done anything wrong. And it won’t hurt anything to stay here with me until we finish with this, will it?”
You look down at him. Remus feels halfway to begging you, but it would probably be redundant. He thinks you know already how deeply his wants are railing against your own, like two magnets turned on their sides so they can’t help but push away from each other even though they’re of the same kind. After a while, you give in.
Remus reels you all the way in, curling his arm around your waist and kissing your hair.
“Thank you,” he murmurs.
You puff out an agitated breath. “I’m sorry.”
“Why? You shouldn’t be.” He begins folding one of your t-shirts with his arms still around you. Neither of you care that it means you can’t really do much folding yourself. “You’ve made me happy. Really.”
Your face says you could argue, but you don’t seem to feel like it. Remus hooks his chin on your shoulder while he works, taking his time, dragging the chore out. Afterwards, he’ll come up with something else to occupy you both for a while longer. He might confess to the smoking inside. He’ll do his best to distract you; you might let him. You’ll both be alright in the end.
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hi!! can i ask for flowery x reader with ruminating OCD? i know there's a lot of ocd types but i wanna focus on where the reader gets really caught up on one question and trying to reassure themself of an answer over and over (for me, it's mostly about trying to understand something that doesn't have a concrete answer (like sense of self or morality) . it leads them to spiraling and being unable to focus on anything else while the compulsion stays in their head.
i don't mind either HCs or a scenario, and i feel like flowery would pick up on his s/o starting to spiral and would gently try to distract them from ruminating. I think he's the kind of person to help them delay their compulsion with other things (since repeatedly asking for reassurance only fuels the cycle).
Hey <3 BHJBDHJ I know I just got this request this morning, but I haaad to do something about it, c'mon...I don't look insane, do I? Smiles.
Anyway, as a person with diagnosed OCD...I really appreciated getting this, you have no idea<3 Here's how I think he would go about it!!
Stamp is from here, as always!
Flowery x Reader with Rumination OCD - Headcanons
°❀.࿔ OCD is…something, to deal with. There's periods of time where it feels like it's completely gone, and you're free from the obsessions and compulsions it brings. Only for it to come back suddenly - maybe thanks to a small, almost insignificant thing - and send you back into spiraling like you've never dealt with it before.
°❀.࿔ Flowery likes to think he knows how to deal with your OCD, and he would be right; for starters, he's not one to judge, and that's something you are extremely grateful for. You could go to him with the most insurmountable problem you feel like you've ever dealt with, something so troubling to you that it takes you hours, days or even more to finally decide to express it…and he would react so, so calmly to it, and make you feel so comfortable that you'd perhaps feel a bit silly to have worried so much over something like that.
°❀.࿔ He's certainly really good at picking up when you're starting to ruminate over something, even when you perhaps haven't fully realized yourself, and that outside perspective helps him intervene before you get into your head way too much. He just nips it in the bud, honestly, and he's very sincere and straight-forward with you about it, saying that the train of thought you're going for might not be helpful and that if you want to talk about it he's there, but he's not going to feed into it as he feels like it might be your OCD talking.
°❀.࿔ He doesn't mind the eventual tears, how upset you might get, or how many times you might feel the need to go to him when you're feeling like a bad person; he might not reassure you in the way that you're looking for in the moment, however what's reassuring about him is that he's going to stay by your side and not leave you alone with your thoughts. Lots of subtle physical affection when he feels you might spiral, if you're okay with it, and silly, comforting acts such as him growing a flower behind your ear and telling you it'll absorb all the bad thoughts from now on; you're ok!
°❀.࿔ He might make light of the situation too, if you've agreed that it's fine for him to do so; "…does that make me bad or irredeemable?" and all he answers is, "Hmm, I've heard this before…I didn't know you had voicelines too, my love!" and then proceeds to place a gentle kiss on your forehead, suggesting that you do something together for the time being.
°❀.࿔ Really good at not making it about himself, honestly; you'll notice over time that when you're feeling bad what he suggests doing is something that can bring you comfort, even if it's something he doesn't dabble in often. If you're not feeling like doing much though, he just engages in something himself and tries to gradually include you somehow; it's always mindless things, like caring for a portion of the Castle's Gardens (someone's got to shape the bushes!) or even something that's of help for the other Flowers, for example organizing Green's cooking supplies or Seth's books while they're busy with something else.
°❀.࿔ If you guys go for the second option, he tries to get you to hang out with the Flowers too, for extra company and distractions. He's glad to be your main source of comfort, but he knows that having others around might be of help too, even more than it just being the two of you - so, as long as you're comfortable with it, he might include others in the equation too.
°❀.࿔ Constantly reminds you of how far you've come, and he's really, really cheesy about it too. He's careful not to bring it up if you don't do it first though, as he wouldn't want to set anything off. He does think about it often when he's by himself, however, as the proud partner that he is.
hey, i saw your hcs of Ellie x adhd reader and i literally loved it
the question is can you write Ellie x ocd reader i would love to read something like that
i didnt saw anything like that and i had diagnose few weeks ago so it would be cool to read how Ellie would react to some weird stuff reader doing maybe more comoulsion like contamination one where reader cleaning everything and not touching stuff for some reasons or counting things doing some stuff few times cuz its safer this way
of course if youre not felling okay with this thats totally okay and i understand this
have a nice day!
Ellie Williams Headcanons: Reader with OCD
Ellie is so thoughtful <33
You often get very paranoid about leaving the doors and windows unlocked at night
Before you lived with Ellie you used to do at least 4 rounds around the house, checking the locks and jiggling door handles to reassure yourself.
However once you'd moved in with Ellie she did all of your rituals with you, trailing behind you as you double check the locks, making sure you turned off the gas and your hair straighteners.
So that when you toss and turn at night, afraid you'd missed something she could be able to calm you down WITH EVIDENCE.
Ellie carries around hand sanitizer, cleaning wipes and general to-go hygiene stuff.
She knows how obsessive you are about cleanliness, and you often freak out when you haven't washed your hands recently-
Helps you calm down, sometimes you clean your hands so much, your skin turns pink and sensitive, scrubbing so much at yourself until it hurts.
So she offers you her alternatives (cleaning wipes, hand sanitizer etc etc)
You often reorganised your closet, your makeup, the kitchen. Anything really.
You could spend hours upon hours cleaning and reorganising your space. And often times you do
She's very helpful of course- lets you do your own thing, but making sure you do everything you need to aswell. Cooks you dinner, reminds you to take breaks and drink water.
--------------
I don't have OCD so some mannerisms might be incorrect <3333
I really love everything you write. Could you write with one of the Marauders or poly!marauders, whichever you think is best, where the reader has OCD (overchecking) where she often needs to check if the door/windows are locked before leaving, even if she doesn't wants to, but her brain always tells her to check it often. Or before bed where she needs to check if she turned off the stove and things like that? (if you don't feel comfortable writing, that's okay and feel free to ignore this request 🧡)
Thanks honey!!
cw: reader displays some symptoms of OCD
Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 634 words
Despite the long day you’ve had and the way your eyelids are drooping, it takes Remus forever to get you to your room. You all but collapse onto the duvet, not even protesting when he slips your shoes off for you before coaxing you back up to wash your face and get ready for bed. (“You’ll be so upset if you wake up with your eyelashes sticking together and your outside clothes still on, sweetheart. And who’ll get in trouble? Me, naturally.”) Finally, when you’ve both washed the day from your faces, brushed your teeth, and changed into your sleep clothes, Remus reaches for the light, but hesitates when you sit up.
“Did you see me lock the door?”
Remus sighs, then feels immediately guilty for it. He’s not upset with you; it’s just frustrating, watching what your own fear will do to you when you’re already so exhausted. “Yes, dovey. I saw, you bolted it and everything.”
You’re looking more and more awake by the second, though fatigue still clings to you. You begin to gnaw on your lip.
“Want me to go check again?” he offers, knowing you won’t be able to rest until you’re sure.
“No, thanks.” You purse your lips, vexed with yourself beneath your worry. You slide your legs over the edge of the bed, standing despite the heaviness that seems to encourage you back down. “I’ll do it. I should check the windows too. And you had a candle going in the living room, didn’t you?”
You’ve already checked the windows, and the stove, and the oven. But you know that already; there’s no sense in telling you. Checking and rechecking is how you make yourself feel safe. “I put it out, but I’ll come with you to be sure,” Remus says, standing too. “For an extra set of eyes.” So he can reaffirm that everything’s been done when you ask again.
He wraps an arm around your shoulders as you go into the hall, hoping your quiet is due to tiredness and not any of the guilty, self-deprecating thoughts that always seem to be churning in that head of yours. Remus walks with you through your home, placing a hand on each burner of the stove to prove its coolness, testing the handle on the door to show that it’s locked, and placing the lid on his blown-out candle so there’s no chance of it reigniting and catching on the nearby curtains.
“Thanks for indulging me,” you say softly on your way back to the bedroom, casting a last glance behind you to ensure that you had, in fact, turned off all the lights.
“Don’t mention it, dovey.” Remus drops a light kiss on the crown of your head. He pulls the sheets aside for you, sympathetic to the eagerness with which you relax into the mattress. “Think you’ll be able to sleep now?”
“Mhm.” You curl up under the covers, looking at him with droopy, troubled eyes. “I’m sorry for being so paranoid.”
Remus’s chest aches faintly as he takes your face in hand, pressing a firm kiss to your forehead. “You’re not paranoid, sweetheart. You’re just trying to keep us safe, and I appreciate it.” Your brows come together disbelievingly, and Remus doubles down, reaching downward to wrap his arm around your waist. “I do! C’mere, honey.”
He tugs you toward him, and you help him out by rolling over, your back pressed to his front. Remus makes his chin at home in the juncture of your neck.
“It’s not always convenient, but you’re protecting us. I get that, alright? And it’s nice to know our home isn’t going to burn down on your watch.” You’re soft and warm against him, and Remus gives your tummy an affectionate squeeze. “Now we can both rest easy.”
