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#eddissy
marambl · 1 day
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Every smile in the forest scene 2/4
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lovesongzine · 1 day
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Today we're looking pretty sweet and very metal thanks to our dear social media artist @AnyaRlly!! 💖 Check out our profile here on tumblr and twitter/x! And let's give her a standing ovation!!!📣🎸❤️‍🔥
The full pieces will be available for you to enjoy in the zine! Don't miss them!!
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ebongawk · 2 days
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WAIT OK I HAVE ANOTHER ONE it’s prob cheating to send two so you can save this for another time but!!!! just chrissy fidgeting w eddie’s jewelry. his rings, his necklace. like she’s anxious abt smth and over time learned instead of like biting her nails or pulling hangnails or smth he’ll let her do that
Chrissy always had an issue with biting her nails.
As a child, whenever she was anxious about school, or nervous about dance competitions or cheer routines, her nails found their way between her teeth, chewed ragged and brittle.
Her mother called her disgusting. A ruler or wooden spoon was often produced, seemingly from thin air, to smack Chrissy across the back of her hands whenever they found their way into her mouth.
The main reason she started painting her nails was because the chemical taste of the polish made her nauseous. As her issues with food worsened, nausea became increasingly harder to control, and she found herself in the bathroom more often than not.
Her nerves, however, found new ways to ruin her.
Using those pretty nails she now sported, Chrissy dug into her cuticles. Picking at dry skin or tiny abrasions, creating hangnails she could then tear away.
Jason called her disgusting. Lightly smacking her hands with his own or with his school notebooks. Telling her constantly that every part of her was so pretty, but she was ruining her hands. Ruining the illusion of beauty he cast upon her by reminding him that she was human.
She couldn't break up with her mom. But she did break up with Jason.
Free of his oppressing weight, the urge to pick at her nailbeds lessened. It didn't disappear completely, of course, but she found healthy skin growing over her tiny scars.
Then she started hanging out with Eddie. And, for a little while, she didn't even notice how her fingertips stopped bleeding.
One day, sitting at the lunch table Eddie and his friends occupied, Chrissy's mind had been sloughing through the finals they had coming up. She was decently confident about most of them, but O'Donnell could be killer when it came to testing. Often asking things not covered by the study guide, so she and Eddie had spent the past four afternoons in his bedroom, textbooks open and flashcards made, trying to get one another ready for their teacher's unhinged brutality.
Her anxiety, during this thought spiral, had heightened exponentially. She stopped moving all at once when she remembered that Sandra had taken a bad scrape during practice yesterday – cheer season was over, but Chrissy was determined to keep the younger girls occupied through the year so they wouldn't be so rusty when they came back in August – and she'd used her last band-aid for the scrapes.
Sighing, Chrissy looked down to inspect the damage.
And saw Eddie's hand in her lap.
She glanced over. Eddie was still fully engaged in whatever conversation he was having with Jeff – his unoccupied hand twisting and twirling through the air to accentuate his points. But his left hand was loose between hers, one of his rings twisted to face his palm.
Chrissy twisted the ring back to right. Then did another circuit, finding it strange how natural it was to fiddle with his rings.
Looking up at Eddie again, he met her eye with a curious smile. Tilting his head to one side in silent question that she just shrugged at, instead scooting the tiniest bit closer and dropping herself seamlessly back into the conversation.
She didn't think of it again for a few weeks. Until she and Eddie were tucked up at his home, watching some British scary movie called Underworld and sharing a bowl of popcorn. They'd started the evening next to one another, but as the movie progressed, Chrissy found herself almost entirely in Eddie's lap. Curling into his side with every scary part, until her knees were tucked up to her chest and her feet were pressed between his thighs.
Every jump scare made her wince, shoving her face into Eddie's shoulder and peeking through one eye until the scary parts were over.
The movie was almost completely finished before she registered Eddie's hand in her lap. Her fingers twisting the rings around his over and over, slipping them up and down his knuckles.
Her nailbeds had never looked so healthy.
Remaining quiet until the previews ran, Chrissy slipped from Eddie's lap, standing and stretching as Eddie moved to flip on the light.
"What'dya think?" he asked, picking up the popcorn bowl and a few stray kernels before walking it into the kitchen. "Weird, yeah? Did I fill your weekly scary movie prescription, Miss Cunningham?"
She'd told him, ages ago, that she wanted to start liking scary movies, because he loved them so much. They now had a weekly movie date, watching something from his repertoire of slasher films before loading one of her favorite romance tapes into the VCR.
(Tonight, it was Breakfast at Tiffany's.)
"Yes, Dr. Munson, it was exactly what I needed," she said around a grin, walking into the kitchen with him. He had his back to her, squatting in front of the fridge for another movie snack, and Chrissy wrapped her arms around his shoulders. Hoisting herself onto his back and pressing her cheek against his neck.
Beneath her, Eddie let out a little chuckle. Something Chrissy turned her head to taste with her lips against his spine.
"That freaked out, sweetness?" he asked, grabbing a jar of the strawberry jam he kept just for her and a couple cans of Coke before standing. Keeping herself firmly affixed to his body with her legs around his waist.
"No," Chrissy answered. "Just wanted to be close to you, that's all."
Eddie huffed, setting his wares down and yanking her further up his back. Situating her to be a little more comfortable before he grabbed peanut butter and the half-eaten loaf of bread from the pantry.
"Yeah?" He paused in his actions, setting the clean butter knife he'd just grabbed next to the jam. "We can, uh. We can get a hell of a lot closer, y'know. If that's your real aim here."
Gosh, he could be such a boy sometimes. Chrissy snorted, burying her face in his neck.
"But what about Breakfast at Tiffany's?"
"Audrey Hepburn will be waiting for us when we're finished, sweet girl." The hand around her knee slid up, gently stroking the outside of her thigh. "Or we can put her on in the background. Make her bear witness to our incredible physical connection."
"Eddie."
"Chrissy."
Rolling her eyes, Chrissy tapped her healthy, wound-free fingertips against his collar.
"Bedroom," she finally said, laughing loudly when Eddie whooped and threw a fist in the air before sprinting down the hallway.
After, as they lay together in a sweaty pile of contentment, Chrissy snuggled into Eddie's chest. Eyes closed, relishing in the smooth, easy way his hand drifted up and down her side, from her hip to her ribs and down again.
"Eddie?"
"Hmm?" He took a final puff of his cigarette before ashing it.
"When did you notice that I pick at my nails?"
He hummed, rolling that thought around in his mind.
"I dunno," he admitted after a moment. "Early, I guess? Beginning."
Tapping her fingers against his stomach, she took his hand where it had continuously been drifting against her skin, bringing it up and pressing her lips against the rings.
"How come I didn't realize you distracted me?"
"I can't answer that, sweetness," he responded around a shrug. "I just figured you needed something to fiddle with. Better my hands than yours, in my opinion."
Chrissy paused, letting that sink in, before she opened her eyes and looked at him.
"What, so you were gonna let me pick at your nails?"
Eddie just shrugged again, a new grin stretching his cheeks. Dimples coming to life under her disbelieving grimace.
"If that's what it took."
"Eddie, that's so gross."
"Guess it's good you picked at my rings and not my nails then, huh?"
"Why would you let anyone––"
"Not anyone," he interrupted, taking her hand in his and letting her fingertips fall across his lips. "Just you."
Oh, the way he could so simply send a swarm of butterflies to flight in her stomach.
"I don't want you to hurt yourself," he said after a moment, honesty dripping like honey from his words. Sprinkling droplets of sticky sincerity across her skin, so she'd feel the mess of his truths for days and years to come. Waggling his eyebrows, he finished by saying, "But I don't mind if you hurt me a little sometimes."
"Eddie."
"Slap me, baby, I know you want to."
"Oh, my God."
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eatsleepandsing · 5 months
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another great ship dynamic is "characters who are deeply traumatized and haunted by nightmares are finally able to get a peaceful night of sleep in each other's arms"
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queenincrimson · 2 years
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JOE QUINN & GRACE VAN DIEN @ FANEXPO CANADA 2022 [video credit.]
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harritudur · 2 years
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they are together now
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kingsandsaints · 2 years
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aicosu · 8 months
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thediktatortot · 1 year
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"This Is My Year!"
A Hellcheer piece I've been noodling on for like half a year now and I finally got the courage to finish it! Honestly, after seeing the BS that Grace Van Dien went through with some shitty people, I wanted to try and put something happy out there. I can't stop people from being shitty, but at least I can promote happy things and nice things.
Grace! This is for you :3
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wrecked-fuse · 11 days
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👹📣
🔪🔪🔪 в вк не репостить 🔪🔪🔪
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marambl · 7 days
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Hellcheer Day 2024 | Every smile in the forest scene 1/4
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itsdancingquen · 3 months
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Safe Haven
a hellcheer hug to heal the soul
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ebongawk · 8 months
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katerdaddy · 2 years
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Another Eddissy doodle cause I can’t get them out of my head. The amount of fics I’ve read of the recently is ASTRONOMICAL
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bloomsbury · 2 years
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cause i'm just a teenage dirtbag, baby
yeah i'm just a teenage dirtbag, baby
listen to iron maiden, baby, with me 🎸🎶
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psychecreations · 2 years
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Chrissy, this is for you.
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