neverending-hurt-comfort
hurt/comfort und stuff
what happens when a person obsessed with whump has too much free time and very little social life - Fandoms: Riverdale, Harry Potter, Star Trek, and possibly more - Maybe some OCs as well? - Requests open!
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I get asked a lot for tips with coloring black people, so i put together a little tutorial! (and bumps my kofi if you found this helpful)
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Things almost every author needs to research
How bodies decompose
Wilderness survival skills
Mob mentality
Other cultures
What it takes for a human to die in a given situation
Common tropes in your genre
Average weather for your setting
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ER - 10x02 - The Lost (2 / 2)
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Working with a mannikin frame from Figure Drawing For All It’s Worth by Andrew Loomis
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underrated things in sickfic: dropping things
when a character is so dizzy that they try to put their mug on the table and miss and it shatters
a character trying to carry their lunch back to a table and dropping the whole thing
a character accidentally spilling the last of the water with shaking hands and getting yelled at
just. good shit.
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Can I take a moment to talk about:
Pulses. Taking a pulse, the intimacy of places one can take a pulse. Especially when a character is awake or waking up. It’s just such a gentle thing and just close enough to being a comforting gesture.
Is it just me? Might be me. In this community it’s anyone’s guess. Probably not just me.
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Officially on hiatus until May
Sorry dudes
School's intense so I'll be back once the semester ends
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Sad Jughead Sickfic
Author's note: FINALLY. I HAVE WRITTEN. Not a prompt fic. Just a thought I had. Might be OOC, but it is written. Takes place in beginning of season 2. VOMIT WARNING.
Pain exploded through his skull as his eyes popped open. Stale yellow tinted light glared through the dirty window. Groping out blindly, Jughead found the chain and yanked the partially opened blinds all the way closed. It did little to help the splitting pain in his head. Laying down on the couch slowly, he winced as the muscles in his back throbbed. Throwing an arm over his eyes, Jughead tried to settle back into sleep. The pain in back was spread all the way through his hips and down his legs. He ached all over as his muscles twitched and jumped, protesting his attempts to stay perfectly still. But he needed to be still. Still and silent. He couldn't wake Jellybean. She would come see what was wrong. And she'd be upset. His little sister, cursed with a kindhearted nature, possessed a strong sense of empathy, beyond her age. Beyond anyone's age. She not only sympathized, but felt the pain of other. So his little Jellybean would see his pain and she'd feel his pain and then she'd cry. Jughead Jones considered himself a stoic by nature, but if there was one thing that broke his heart without fail, it was the seeing his baby sister cry.
Deep breath in, he coached himself. Slow breath out. Saliva pooled in his mouth. He gulped. A shiver ripped through his achy frame. Pulling his arm away from his eyes, Jughead brushed his fingers over his cheek. The skin felt hot in dry. Still shivering, Jughead rolled towards the back of the sofa.
An inexplicable longing shot through him. A longing to wake his parents. It made no sense. Neither FP nor Glasys Jones was a natural caretaker. They weren't the kind of parents who missed work to spend the day tending to their sick offspring's every need. But the longing came nonetheless.
His father would brush cool, labor-calloused fingers over Jughead's flushed face. FP's eyes would squint slightly, his mouth pulling into a tight line. He'd turn on the TV and try to find a movie his son would like before heading back to bed. If they were low on medicine, FP would trek out to the 7-11, any hour of night or day. Most of all, FP would make sure Jughead had his beanie, never questioning why it made his son feel so safe.
Gladys Jones was harder to pin down, less consistent in her actions. Sometimes she'd get mad. Gladys would snap at Jughead for anything or nothing. But other times, she'd kick FP out of bed, letting Jughead rest in the master bedroom. Gladys would likely sleep through most of his discomfort, but before she passed out, she'd push all the covers off, letting Jughead hog them all.
Jughead stomach whirled as his world spun out from under him. Once again saliva was filling his mouth. A sharp, bitter tang stung the back of his throat. His heart thudded against his ribcage. Icy sweat coated his skin. Sit up or don't sit up? Sit up or don't sit up?! Arguments swirled around in his head. Neither was appealing.
Jughead sat up, ignoring the screaming pain in his body. Wrong choice.
He could feel it coming. Scalding heat burned upwards through his esophagus. He gagged and his stomach spasmed. Jughead stood, too fast. His foot caught on the blanket and he fell hard. Up. Get up.
He was so cold. This tight throat ached. On trembling legs, he managed to get himself up. Jughead wasn't making it to the bathroom. Steps uneven, he staggered towards the kitchen. Panicked eyes darted in every direction. He spotted the trash can just as the first wave rippling from his stomach all the way up to his mouth, sick filling his mouth. He gagged and fell to his knees, one hand gripping the cheap plastic of the bin. He aimed for the trash, but somehow missed the mark. Eyes squeezed shut, he felt as vomit spilled over his own clenched fingers and heard vomit splattering onto the vinyl floor. Disgust sent a shudder up Jughead's spine. Then his abdomen gurgled and groaned, impossibly loud in the silent trailer. He hunched just in time to contain the mess, spilling the burning contents of his stomach into the plastic lined trash can. Pulling in a sharp gasp, Jughead shivered and almost whimpered. He only pulled in the one breath, before he was gagging again. God, why do I eat so much?
It seemed to end. But his stomach was refusing to accept that it was really empty. So he dry-heaved and gagged and coughed until his throat ached so bad he couldn't even swallow. Something sticky was clinging to his lips. He wanted to spit but he was afraid of the pain. With a slow deep breath, Jughead pulled himself up to the counter long enough the snag a handful of scratchy paper towels, before sitting back onto the floor. With trembling hands, he wiped the sick from his fingers and swiped weakly at his mouth. His muscles were jello. The mess needed cleaning. He managed to contain most of it but... Jughead knew he couldn't finish the job. He could barely make it to counter two feet away, let alone make it to the outside trash cans. Chills had invaded his ever muscle. Pulling himself to his knees, Jughead called out weakly.
"Mom?" No response. "Dad?" Still nothing.
Knees shaking, Jughead managed to stand, shuffling towards the master bedroom.
"Dad?" He called again. His father was generally a light sleeper, but depending on his blood alcohol content... "Dad?"
His legs buckled within steps of the door. Like a puppet with its strings cut. No dignity left, Jughead crawled the short distance to the door.
An empty bed. He blinked slowly. The bed was empty. Empty and neatly made. Their bed was never made. Oh... He remembered now. Letting out a shuddering breath Jughead shuffled forward. He was on his own.
The sheets smelled like soap. He'd washed them. With no logic at all, Jughead longed for the sickly smell of liquor on his father's breath and the stale aura of cigarettes on his mother's skin.
But the sterile, generic smell of detergent was all there was. Jughead was alone. Jughead was on his own.
His chest ached and not from the heartburn of vomited his stomach inside out.
Wrapping himself tight in the blanket, Jughead struggled to sleep. He needed to sleep. Jughead a mess to clean.
#sickfic#my writing#riverdale#jughead jones#fp jones#gladys jones#jellybean jones#riverdale fanfic#riveredale sickfic#southside#whump#whump fic#angst#hurt no comfort#vomit tw#vomit warning
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Quite sketch of my idea of Jellybean Jones Done in about 10 minutes so not my best work I imagine her looking like Jughead, but with straighter hair and dark eyes (like FP) Based off Dafne Keen But I headcanon her with a french braid (done by #1 big brother Jughead Jones of course) More to come
#riverdale#riverdale cw#riverdale fandom#fan art#jellybean jones#jughead jones#jones family#fp jones#gladys jones#jellybean jones fan art#fanart
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From San Francisco Bay Area but currently going to school in Louisiana
So I'm just curious.
Where are y'all from? No need to be specific; no need at all. I was just wondering how widespread the community is! I’ll start.
I’m originally from Northwest OH, but go to university in upstate New York!
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OCs I will probably end up writing
*Note: I invented these guys when I was like 16 and purely for the purpose of self-indulgent whump and hurt/comfort
OCs:
Maciej (named after my all-time favorite TA I had in high school)
Appearance: Short (or short side of average); thick mop of chestnut brown curly hair; very thin and lanky; large blue-green eyes; heart-shaped face; pointed chin; long, thin, slightly upturned nose; pale, heavily freckled complexion
Personality: Socially awkward, shy, anxious; compassionate, empathetic, good-natured; easily led, manipulated, bullied; hates being the center of attention, wants to blend into the background
Other notes: Coming from working class family; oldest child with a bunch of younger sisters (who he adores and who adore him); majoring in Ecology and Evolutionary Biology
Poe
Appearance: Tall, wiry, athletic; short, very curly dark brown hair; pale blue eyes; strong jaw; strong, straight nose; warm, dark complexion; mole by left eye
Personality: Jovial, fun-loving, happy; somewhat impulsive and careless; freedom-loving and funny; very social, is generally very popular with his peers; does NOT like bullies/people who abuse their power; is not afraid to stand up for himself and others
Other notes: Adopted by two doctors living in Connecticut; one younger brother who is also adopted (love/hate relationship – run hot and cold like most siblings); majoring in Computer Science
Other players:
Elliot: Friend of Maciej and Poe; chill dude; artist/stoner best friend/roommate of Davis
Davis: chill, stoner/gamer dude. Loves RPGs and is generally just a cool dude
Rowan: Maciej’s first roommate; underdeveloped asshole (cause…reasons?)
These are my self-indulgent OCs that I write when I feel like just making some fluffy, hurt-comfort-y stories. They are two boys who just love each other (with some cliché “odd couple” vibes – i.e. nerd/jock, introvert/extrovert)
Their basic backstory is:
Get placed in same dorm as freshmen (next door neighbors)
Like most colleges, everyone gets sick in the first few weeks
Maciej is sick and his roommate is being a jerk/bully/general asshole
Poe stands up for him (Yells at him/starts a fight while Maciej cowers)
They switch rooms so Poe and Maciej end up as roommates and love ensues
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Sorry dudes, I keep trying to write. But it's just not happening.
Honestly, I think I need to take a break from Riverdale as a whole for a while. I think we can all agree that the Riverdale fandom can be....rough. And I just kinda thought "hey, being a fan is supposed to be fun." So IDK, maybe I'll get back into Harry Potter or Star Trek or something for a bit. I'm sure I'll get back to riverdale soon.
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Conversation
reggie: hey jughead are you still a virgin?
jughead: nobody dies a virgin
reggie: what
jughead:
reggie:
jughead: cause in the end, life fucks us all
reggie: what
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Okay so let’s talk for a second. For all of those who are in the camp of “This is out of nowhere.” and “This is not the Jughead we know and love.” You are entitled to have this opinion and feel conflicted about this choice for the character.
However, may I present the facts as they are.
Keep reading
#riverdale spoliers#jughead jones#fp jones#southside serpents#southside#riverdale#important#very well put
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