[ Heathcliff simply rolls on top of Ishmael. Not that he does that intentionally, or even knowingly, it's just that time in his REM cycle to roll the fuck over and trap whoever is with him underneath his ridiculous bulk. It's a bellyflop! He starfishes, an arm tossed over Ishmael's boobs and leg hiked up over her knees, and continues to snore softly. Because that's what he does. Because he's Heathcliff, the worst man alive. Sorry, Ishmael. ]
hangover aftercare; sorry i'll get icons at some point i swear;