#Im in so much brain rot right now i need to be sedated

[prettyoatmeal]

Hand holding HCs..DROP EM

Likeeeeeeee their fav ver of hand holding, do they do the finger rub thing, do they pull your hand in to kiss it!!!!!!

-🕯️

TF141 and how they would hold your hand!

A/N: Yesss finally I finish something cute and wholesome. I'm sorry this took so long, I'm lowkey so bad at fluff.

Warnings: No warnings, suggestive for the very last point on Soap's section towards the end. 99% fluff.

Masterlist here!

***************

Price is a romantic when it comes to holding your hand.

He would've been a little shy about it at the start, almost always asking because he's just such a gentleman. Now it's just become a habit of his, a very cute habit.

"Can I hold your hand, love?"

"They're so soft."

His hands would ALWAYS be warm which is perfect if you're a cold-handed kinda person.

"You feel so cold. Here, let me just.."

He is very insistent on placing kisses on your knuckles or the back of your hand.

Over all he's just very sweet about it, a gentle yet firm grip as you two walked or cuddled, or anything.

If he had to choose, his favourite time or way to hold your hand is while he's driving. One hand on the wheel while the other holds yours over the console.

Gaz would just initiate it like that. He doesn't feel the need to ask.

He's already wrapped around your finger the minute he wakes up, while eating breakfast, just hanging out together, everywhere.

He will always have his hands on you, whether it be holding your hands or not.

An extremely clingy boyfriend, his grip is pretty possessive.

He just loves you so much and wants you to know how much you mean to him.

PDA? Doesn't really care unless you do. He will very proudly hold your hand and show off how gorgeous his partner is.

Is quite playful with it, will happily swing your arms back and fourth.

Holding your hand is something which could cheer him up from whatever stress he would be facing.

Shamelessly, his favourite way is when you begin to pull away, and he has to coax his fingers back into yours, not wanting the moment to end.

"Kyle- stooop, your hands are sweaty."

"No, no, no. Let me hold you just a little bit longer, doll."

And you always let him despite how warm and clammy you may feel. Who are you to deny him of that?

Ghost wasn't much for physical affection, only finding comfort in the smallest of touches like small pats on the shoulder or knee.

Though later on, he warms up to your touches, finding your aura endearing and calming.

It started out as linking his gloved pinkie finger with yours, slowly, slowly edging closer until your hands are completely intertwined together.

His hands are so rough and so cold compared to the rest of him so there was quite the temperature contrast between you two.

After feeling how warm you were compared to him, you swore you could almost hear him purring into your neck the moment your hands met.

PDA isn't his thing. It isn't anything against you, he just doesn't enjoy putting too much attention on it. He'd formally hold your hand or interlock your pinkies together, maybe a little more if you ask him or if the time called for it.

His favourite way to hold your hand is just the cutest.

He will very often grab your hand under the table or under the covers and out of sight. Its intimate, almost as if you two were trying to keep it a deep secret. He knew it made your heart flutter, and it made his flutter too.

Soap's probably the one where your hand holding will most likely lead somewhere more.

If he's holding your hand, then he's also placing kisses along your palms and your knuckles.

His kisses would lead up your arm like in cartoons until he's placing small kisses on your shoulder, your neck, then up at your lips, and a make-out session ensues.

And he's holding your hands all throughout it, not letting go one bit.

Since starting dating, he's just been happily holding you with physical affection being his love language. He couldn't help it, you feel so soft against him.

"These hands may've killed, but they'll hold ya' like there's no tomorrow, dove."

He's so romantic it's adorable.

"I love you," kiss, kiss, kiss, kiss "ah, you set my soul on fire."

Similar Gaz, he's very, very clingy.

Doesn't care too much about PDA either, he'll very happily hold your hand regardless if you're out with.

His favourite way to hold your hand would be during sex just because of how intimate it is. Whether he be taking you from behind or in missionary, his fingers would be firmly intertwined with yours, pushing them into the plush of the bed to make sure you wouldn't be able to let go anytime soon.

***************

I think I'm back guys! 2 more exams and it's over, and I SHOULD be back to writing again. I mean hell, I've had the urge to write so much in these past couple days, I'm on a roll. Are we so back?? I hope

*************** DISCLAIMER Under no circumstances do I give permission to copy, repost, or manipulate my work in any way. I am not comfortable with this. If you wish to translate my work, message me privately. My inbox is always open.

[t33th1ng]

soulmate 2:16-3:16 - march 2016

theres something hidden into this city that i love deeply and i have to find it again. 

i saw it once , years ago , as a child . i lay on my back in a narrow dark street. my vision is blurred i dont know how or why im here . i crook my head back farther, farther...... and the clouds part open , or a screen is shifted , and one skinny fall of sunlight comes down to shine on this fern thats growing outward from a damp wall by a door. i blink and my vision clears , i blink again , then three times, then someone grabs my and pulls me upright and takes me away.  for three blinks im on my back as a child , in a crooked alley, the cement under me is uneven, grimy, wet. my head is tilted back and the muscles in my neck ache from it and i see the fern sitting in that moment of light . then i leave . im in love

*

oh i am obsessed with it , i need to find it . i dont know how. my memories are broken across my life , i dont ..... know .. i dont know where anything is. i scratch at my head like some dumb animal bored to death on a chain. i click my teeth ......

*

i spend my years memorising the fern in the light , knowing i have to find it again . but when , but how ...

one night i try to leave to find it , but i am caught , and returned , and i cant find it that way . i must bide my time . i guess . i think ive waited long , so long . so i know i can do it ive spent this much time waiting i can spend a little more and i dont want to !  but i can , i certainly can. 

memory ... memory .... where does my memory sleep? where is it in my head ? i know that i must know how to return, because i have been there once before . there must be some remnant left from that trip, some rind, some little toenail clipping of memory to show me how to go back . i try to plot this pilgrimage but its so so hard. i cannot imagine, i cannot fathom ... 

i need to though . i must . i love it dearly, i love it with my full self and i have to see it again . 

* 

i go on a small walk early in the morning. the air is gray . im not trying to find the fern by the door today, i just need a walk , for my legs and my mind. i walk hard, smacking the bottoms of my shoes onto the pavement so the earth knows im here. i go by businesses and houses and two parks, i pass a courthouse and a museum. i walk all the way down to the wharf and stare into the glaring cold ocean below me . 

it stares back. i see a crab, and i turn around to start my way back. 

i feel the ocean lurking at my heels as i walk away. i regret coming here.

*

i eat a plum today . i eat it slowly and think about the fern and the door. its flesh is cold and soft. 

the fern, the door, where are they , they are hiding far away from me but i know. I Know. they are in this very same city as myself. i grind the thin bitter plum skin between my molars. where could they be ........ god i must find them. 

i make so many plans to go out , track them down , and they all fail. there is a component missing . something causes my failure but i dont know what it hurts my head! it hurts my physically ! 

*

a solar eclipse is approaching and i think it is important. i plan to leave on the eclipse to find my love and i wont return, never. ill never come back. the eclipse is five days away, now four ...... i watch the sky 

does the sun know? is the sun plotting ? do they all know up there , all those monsters hanging up there, do they know about eclipses? no . they are also dumb animals , on a chain , just like me . we are made of star stuff after all . thats one big chain. 

the sun dissapears so slowly, being gently eaten away, and i make my leave .  the streets run with people viewing the eclipse. they gather at opportune places - the tops of their apartment buildings , on the beach, on a hill in a park. i slide past them, they are so thick around me . the street is fucking clotted with humans and i swim through them. 

at first they seem oblivious but slowly, i realize, that theyre on to me. i dont know what it is; probably the sun being so weird. it must affect our brains somehow. but they can sense my presence and sense my drive. they know what im up to . not every single one, i dont think....but enough that it worries me. 

their many presences stick to my brain. i try to shake them.. i cant shake them. god theres so many , this city is overrun ...... ill ignore them though , ill ignore them until they make their move. if i act like i dont know what theyre doing then they will let me through for longer .. i have to pretend , for my sake , if they realize they Will tear me apart.

*

the eclipse is over and people are returning slowly to their duties . even with the sun back to normal though some of them are still following me ... not physically (yet) but mentally. theyre keeping tabs on my brain... i travel on anyways pretending not to know. i think i am getting closer ....

*

it is getting darker, darker ... i know i am approaching . im manic , im full of feverish blood and im close , so close, closer than ive ever been. i feel presences behind me , theyre on me like a pack of goddamn hounds , theyre closing in around me but they havent caught me yet. 

i push past people and i dont care at this point , they all already know what im up to no reason to keep secrets anymore . a big broadcast has been made across the city, they all know now. so i push and claw past them, gush through their crowds like a ravenous slime full of intent . im full of purpose .. 

the evening air is cool . i gulp it down. dusk is on us now , the light getting dusty , people crawling around bars now , the atmosphere is becoming heavy and grips at me . it sinks into my pores to try and pull me to a stop but i push through, its a miasma , its some kind of hellish gasses released to try and sedate me. i wont listen to it though . im not stopping until i find my love again.  all the people coming out now to go to bars .. oh , it must be the alcohol. they drink , and breathe out, and the alcohol mixes into the oxygen and tugs on my with evil purposes. it is not pure of heart ......... the entire atmosphere here is trying to get everyone drunk. or , more specifically , trying to get me drunk , trying to contain me... i wont allow it. i have miles to go before i sleep. 

*

its black now , its late , my vision blurs , my breath hurts , occasionally i find myself scrabbling like a cretin on my hands and knees , dragging myself through puddles of filth and scraping all my skin off , leaving a trail of myself behind on the asphalt. i try to stay on my feet as much as i can but my minds so clouded by this heavy atmosphere its hard to do what i want . 

im deep , deep , into the city now and i rarely see people . maybe they have given up ..  maybe they think that since ive gotten this far ill just kill myself , wear myself down to nothing on this pavement . sink to earth as a dribble of grime ..... it seems a pleasant option at this point . i hurt , i ache , my brain is screeching . but i wont , not yet . 

i did not leave with the intent to die but i think thats whats going to happen . i will die on the roots of this fern . i cannot imagine Living again after this .. in fact i do not know that i am really alive right now . i do not think i am ...  im decomposing ..... the skin trail behind me ..

*

gravity pulls me across the ground now . i know i am still being monitored but i cannot care , i do not care , they can have my carcass if they give so much of a shit . im oozing , rolling , sloughing , im not a sentient being barely im just matter with a purpose nailed to its core . i can no longer stand on two feet , i can barely crawl . and i dont see almost any people by this point . when i do , they are disgusted . they avoid me . i have grown into a beast that they fear mightily 

i am upon it now , i am upon my love . i reach my tongue out of my face to try to taste it , it comes every closer . i haul my unraveled remains over the cold concrete , my fingers scraping thin , my belly an empty cave now . there do exist pictures of me as a child , a baby . i am shown these . 'oh, what a cute little baby you were! look at those fat cheeks...' i shake my head . no . no that does not exist anymore , that baby decayed and im the rot that is left . i was eaten and chewed apart and drooled back out whatever that baby couldve grown up to be will never exist : i killed it and took its place . im an imposter .. an imposter 

i peel my face up from the ground. only one eye opens itself . i can see it now , the object of my affections , my love , my love ... the little door , the little fern beside it . i force my body to move slowly slowly , i cant manage anything better . i smell the damp mold , the rot , the neglect and the soil and the old stale air . im so so in love . im so in love . and im almost to the door 

oh and im there , im at the door and i fall to earth in pain. im panting and drooling and cant feel my body , whatever is left of it . i truly am dying , almost dead . i push at the door. it doesnt open but the vibration from my action , my little attempt , shakes raindrops off of the fern and they fall on my face . they fall on the thing that used to be my face ..... 

the door isnt locked i dont think , but its so warped by moisture , the wood is so puffy , that its stuck . i shoved my shoulder against it , my slippery sad shoulder . god . how could this shoulder have grown from that little baby , how did i become ...

i shove again and again . shockingly there are tears left in my body and i cry. the fern bobs above me . the city moves around me . those monsters in the sky they turn above us all . the air still comes and goes from my lungs , and i can still feel the pain of my failing body . the people of this city , the forces that be , perch invisibly above me , monitoring me . they grab up my brainwaves in their hands , those vultures , those shiftless parasites , they eat up my brainwaves and gather information . i just want to be alone , somehow , let me be alone 

the doors groans and pops open, just barely . i rest my face between it and the doorframe , breathe deeply. all is dark and all i have is the smell of soft wood and old air and dust and the rain and the fern lives above me. oh . i am so in love ...