#howls moving castle imagine

[blue-sadie]

A Thing Of Beauty

Imagine:

Being howls wife and having to console him after Sophie's mistake causing his hair to change color and your only way of calming him down is sitting next to him as he layed on his bed speaking to him softly.

"You are not hideous howl, you are amazing and beautiful you make the men jealous as you walk past and as much as I hate it girls fall in love with you at just a glance, a little change won't change that"

[aspiringauthorintraining]

A Fateful Encounter (8/?)

“I hate potatoes.”

“Nobody hates potatoes, Markl.” 

You were really starting to get worried that he was taking after Howl and his dramatics. “How many times have you even had potatoes to have taken such a disliking to them?”

“...Once,” he frowned, “b-but I just need to have it once to know I don't like something! If it’s bad peeled, it’s gonna be bad cooked anyways.”

You stopped looking at the fish for a second, staring at the boy in front of you. “Markl, did you just eat the potato raw?”

“Well, yeah. Master Howl never has time anymore to make food so I did it myself. I washed it, peeled it, and ate it. It was bleh.”

You shook your head, wondering how this poor boy survived under the care of the irresponsible man-child of a wizard that he called “Master”. Resuming your inspection of the fresh-caught fish, your eyes traveled down to see a huge blue fish displayed on the ground, with its eyes seemingly staring into your soul. Grimacing, you slowly backed away, inching towards Markl.

“Umm, I’ll take this one.” you quickly said, pointing to one of the fish you had been looking at earlier. 

“Great choice, ma'am,” the seller complimented as he took the coins from Markl, before moving to start wrapping the said fish for you.

A sudden commotion from behind, paired with an increasingly strong burning smell grabbed the attention of everyone at the market. Even the fish seller stopped midway in his wrapping, hurrying out of his stall to get closer to the harbor to watch what was going on. 

“But my fish,” you frowned, just staring at the half-wrapped fish with Markl. You looked down at the child and shrugged, before pushing up your sleeves to finish the wrapping. You had already paid for it anyways.

“Can we go look too?” Markl asked, as you placed the wrapped fish in the basket and took the basket from his hands.

“I have a feeling Sophie’s going to need our help back home right about now.” you frowned, remembering what was soon to come. “Also remember, we run away from bombs, not towards them, Markl.”

“Huh?” he replied confused, as you led the way back home with the basket in one hand and Markl’s hand in the other.

When the two of you had reached the castle door, a sudden series of explosions sounded from the harbor making you both jump. 

“Are those-”

“Yup.”

“How did you-”

You merely shrug, opening the door before it started raining flyers on the streets.

“Are you sure you’re not a witch?” Markl asked, suspiciously squinting his eyes at you.

“Do you want me to be?” you laughed, placing the basket near the sink to prepare later. “Sophie?” you called out, wondering what your friend was doing.

“Here!” she called out, from somewhere. A few seconds later, she finally popped out from behind the curtain in the makeshift bedroom. “Just organizing some stuff. Oh,” she noticed the basket, “you should have woken me up. I could have gone too.”

You shook your head, placing a hand on her shoulder for support. “No, no. You need your energy. There’s a greater evil coming upon us soon.” 

And as if right on time, a shriek pierced through the air as the castle shook in fright. Crying sounds accompanied by bumping into the wall noises sounded from above, quickly travelling to the stairwell.

“Sophie, you-you sabotaged me!” Howl shouted, glaring at the young girl. “Look!” And running to her, with no sense of personal space, butted his head to her face in anger. “It’s hideous!” he cried, with nothing but a towel on his waist.

Orange, orange, orange. Keep your eyes on the hair, (Y/N). Do not go any lower.

You definitely were not watching the drops of water cascading down his smooth chest and back, until the droplets disappeared behind the towel. And you definitely did not notice how the towel was barely hanging on to the man’s waist due to his wild movements. Hair. You were only paying attention to his hair. Nothing else.

“Now I’m repulsive. I can’t live like this.” he whined, sagging into the chair behind him.

Black. Now the color was bla- wow, that towel deserved an award for how it stayed on him without falling off. And oh look, there’s his back. His very wide shoulders on full display- no. Focus, (Y/N). Stop ogling.

“I give up. I see no point in living, if I can’t be beautiful.”

Coming to your senses, you looked in disgust as the man sat slouched over, moping. And having a tantrum over what? His hair. 

A child- he was a literal man-child.

Sophie and Markl looked in fear at the shadows lurking along the walls that were growing by the second, encasing the castle in darkness. Calcifer tried to save his logs from the slime that was quickly getting everywhere. Howl didn’t listen, what a surprise, continuing his murmuring- his pale skin turning increasingly green and slimy. You didn’t even want to know what the slime was made up of.

“Alright, that’s enough for today.” Rolling your eyes at the man’s childish meltdown, you stopped Sophie just in time from touching the slime on Howl’s back. “I’ll take of him, don't you worry.” you ensured her.

Suddenly grabbing the back of the chair, you pulled Howl’s weight towards the door. The only sound heard in the castle now was the screeching sound of the wooden chair being dragged across the floor.

The rest of the group remained in their positions, Calcifer really having no choice though, as you turned the dial to the purple color.

“(Y/N), what are you doing?” the fire demon asked, hesitantly. Half curious, half afraid for Howl’s well-being.

You looked up from tugging on the chair, to give him a thin smile.

“It’s raining.” 

“So?”

“Well, I thought since Howl didn’t like the bath, maybe a shower would be more to his liking.” And with a smile, you opened the door to face the pouring rain outside. “Markl honey, can you help me with the umbrella?”

The boy hurried to the door, grabbing the propped up umbrella and going ahead outside. Opening it, he held it up to make sure the two of you were shielded from the rain. Sophie and Calcifer stared from the doorway, as you pulled Howl out of the castle and into the pouring rain.

“She’s not going to kill him outside, is she?” Calcifer whispered to Sophie, while munching on a log.

“No. At least, not in front of Markl.” Sophie responded thoughtfully.

Once fully under the rain, Markl whispered to you from under the umbrella.  “Is he dead?”

“No, he’s just throwing a tantrum.” you responded, watching the green slime wash off his back from the rain. “Are you sure he doesn’t have a spell or something like your cloak, that makes him look older but he’s actually a child. Because I could believe that.”

Markl laughed at your theory. “No, I don’t think so.”

Sudden rustling in the grass made you look over to see Prince Justin hopping over with another umbrella in hand- honestly having no clue where he kept getting his things from- using it to cover Sophie who was coming out of the castle as well.

“Oh, thank you Turnip- Justin.” Sophie smiled, correcting herself.

Hehe, I did that, Justin. You can thank me later by giving me a high-paying, low work job in the palace after all of this is over.

“Justin, are you okay to be out in the rain like this? Can a scarecrow get a cold?” you asked when the two came near. He just bounced up and down a few times, so you assumed it meant he was okay.

Turning your attention back on the moping wizard, you thankfully saw that most of the slime was washing off his body with the rain. 

“Should we just throw him in the lake, and check on him tomorrow?” you whispered to Sophie. She slapped your arm at your suggestion with a forced frown that soon turned into a giggle. “Okay, next time then.” you laugh.

When Sophie and Markl soon left to clean up the mess Howl had made by the fireplace and to start a bath for him, you were tasked to drag him back in once he finished his “shower”. 

The rain felt nice on your face and for the small headache that was forming, once you had decided to forego the umbrella, and it was peaceful with Howl still unresponsive and spacing out. 

Laughter. A child’s laughter. Your headache grew a bit more painful.

“Markl, are you back to play in the rain?” you laughed, turning around expecting to see the boy in a raincoat. But there was no one. 

Another laughter. Two distinct ones this time. You rubbed your temples in an effort to relieve the continually growing headache.

“Markl? Sophie?” you called out, hoping they were playing a trick on you.

But there was still no one. 

“(Y/N).” A child’s voice whispered in your ear.

You whipped around to see only rain and the lake. Now you were getting paranoid. And your headache was feeling like a migraine now. 

Is this place haunted?

“(Y/N).” The same voice sounded from beside you. But only Howl was there, unresponsive as ever still.

With the headache worsening, and hearing children voices in the rain not being a normal occurrence, you quickly grabbed the back of the chair, pulling Howl back into the castle with haste. 

Just as you stepped foot in the castle, the voices and pain stopped. 

Maybe it was the rain that was causing the headache? But the voices? 

“-him up the stairs.” Sophie waved her hand in front of your face to grab your attention. “(Y/N)? I said I need help taking him up the stairs.”

Though still perturbed, you grabbed ahold of one side of Howl, lugging him up the stairs with Sophie’s help. A sudden wet plop sound from behind made Sophie turn her head to see a small wet towel on the floor, making her suddenly lock eyes with the ceiling.

“(Y/N), don’t look down.” she warned, keeping her eyes above and ahead. 

“Hmm, what?” you asked, moving your eyes down to look at what she was talking about. 

Your eyes wandered around until they landed on something that took you a second to realize what you were staring at. Your eyes shot up to the ceiling, face burning red.

“You looked didn’t you?” Sophie laughed.

_________________________________________

*(A/N):  it is currently 2:39 am and i tried to do naked howl justice so just know that i tried.  ty to anyone still out there reading this, this is for you. i wrote this just for you but also for me cause yeah. happy december, stay warm and cozy

[callie-the-creator]

sfw. ok, but like…can you imagine a yandere!howl pendragon? i would quite literally cry if this man was obsessed with me because like…

• you can’t run away. calcifer will most likely snitch on you. after all, he is howl’s heart

• even if you think you’re safe, you’re not. howl can disguise as who he pleases—it’s just mimicking their personalities and speech that are the issue. for all you know, yandere!howl could disguise himself as some random old lady to keep a close eye on you

— before he snatches you up to take you back to the castle ofc 😌

• you already know you’re going to be sleeping in his room, right beside him. yandere!howl doesn’t want you going anywhere. he wants you to stay at the castle…with him, calcifer, markl, where he knows you’re safe

• you don’t want to see him get mad, do you? if you anger him, then you risk yandere!howl transforming into one of his creature-like forms or worse: he’ll throw a tantrum.

— and trust me when i say that it’s hard to convince him to calm down, so good luck, soldier 🫡 you’re gonna need it

• when he comes back to the castle after being gone for days on end, yandere!howl will make it his sole mission to make it up to you by giving you your favorite flowers, cooking food for everyone, pampering you in anyway he can, and giving you lots of affection (as if he doesn’t do that already)

— you will admit…it is nice seeing someone be hopelessly devoted to you the way yandere!howl is

• what can he say? he’s clingy

[2kmps]

BED-REST IS BEST

howl pendragon x sick!reader | 2.1k

synopsis; while sophie and michael are away fetching you bone broth for your illness, howl decides to pay you a visit.

story warnings; sick!reader, howl is a pompous turd, book!howl-coded, interrupted kiss, roughly proofread, posted 2021.

Sophie supposed the malady came on the winds of spring, carrying with it all manner of sickness, unpleasantness, and turbid air just the thinnest tinge of green from particles of pollen. She herself felt the effects of the great thaw, the budding tulips of richest hue, and the haze that drew over head like a personal cloud of suffering all her own.

Of course, Old Sophie had a way of dramatizing, meanwhile simultaneously catastrophizing stuff, so you knew to listen to her words loosely, with a solemn nod that you also shared similarly in those feelings. To a lesser degree than her, you were already aware your forced bed-rest could be attributed to allergies.

Or, something else you considered, it could have been the number of sputtering children who yet not knew to duck their faces in a tissue or their arms; it could have been the last embrace you shared with your sickly aunt. It could have been so many things that you had to press the pads of your fingers into your temples to subdue the stab of a headache building beneath them.

“Michael and I are going to Market Square to get supplies and bone broth. That’ll whip you into shape in no time.” Sophie anchored her fists against the bulky layers of her skirt, nearly losing them from how deeply they sunk. “Don’t you dare think about moving until we get back, hear me?”

“What about customers?” you couldn’t say you were disappointed by her firm demand, though all the same it made you restless. Even in times where illness or injury got you down, rest eluded you like fine sand slithering through crevices in your fingers. “Howl went off and blew half our income on that- that, damn, what was it? Some kind of enchanted flute? The more customers we serve, the more we can stash away.”

Sophie’s nostrils widened while her shoulders sagged forward with her breath. Her eyes lost their hardness, ebbing into something far warmer, motherly, almost. As you shifted anxiously beneath the covers, she came back around and began tucking them under your body once again, sure to secure you tighter than before. In fact, you were so caught, so much in your cocoon that you only saw the gray ball of wadded hair pinned atop her head bounce as she rounded you.

“Just stay down you worrywart,” she sighed, heels tapping the floorboards in a collected gait. At your head, she was careful to fluff the feathers in your pillow. “Between us, I’ve been putting a bit aside here and there. Just enough so he can't go buy another one of those enchanted suits. I’d like to know the dealer he’s getting them from and have a word with them myself.”

Your lips curled up at the mention and, honestly, you believed she actually would. “Where is Howl, anyway? I thought he was around.”

“Good grief, I almost wish he wasn’t. He’s been banging around in his room for hours now.” Old Sophie threw her hand towards the adjacent wall, upper lip curling as she continued, “says a lot that you haven’t heard a lick of it.”

That was enough to get you to concede to her obstinacy, letting the weight of your head- suddenly a strain on your neck- fully rest atop of the pillow she had fixed. The more she talked about you needing to stay in bed, drink bone broth and saltines, the more you felt the lead in your limbs rooting you to the mattress and the world floating around you when you closed your eyes.

It was any guess to you when it was the moment Sophie slipped out of your room with that hobbled gait of hers. You had been vaguely aware of her giving your cushion a bit more lusciousness, and then warmth of her palm covering the space of your forehead, giving a fretful tongue click. Behind your heavy eyelids, your eyes floated after her tiny footfalls, but that at once made your bed feel like a boat crashing through cresting waves.

So, you finally resigned to your fate of her and Michael’s care, finally let the stone in your bones meld you into the bed like beige boulders sinking further into the earth and undergrowth with coming centuries.

The silence that surrounded you was enthralling, probably the only true amount of peace you had had in a long time, considering your days were often brimmed with mediating Sophie and Howl’s explosiveness, meanwhile, still cooking up meager spells and manning the business with Michael.

In your weariness and delirium, a thought crossed your mind in a drawl: what about Calcifer, did he need more wood? You anticipated his voice bursting out soon, imploring attention in any number of ways. What of the front door? You expected a knock to come soon, and then another, and another, and perhaps a dozen more. That was money well needed.

What of Sophie? Your thoughts continued. Would she need you to help with scrubbing the floors? Maybe she wanted to give you a knitting lesson later, or expand on her tutelage of weaving hats.

Oh, and Howl—

God, how could you forget Howl? The man felt like a job all on its own. 

Surely he intended to go out again and woo many of the loveliest in Market Chipping, or hell, maybe he’d move the castle somewhere else for the night to do that. You expected him to hunt you down, throw open your door, barge through the threshold with his hair aflutter and eagerness in his eyes—where did you and Miss Nose stash his suits? His guitar wasn’t where he left it, where was it? Neither of you meddled with the charm over his door, right?

As it turned out, you mumbled in your sleep, or at least in your discombobulated state. Your head rustled the feather pillow, lolling to one side and then the other as sweat prickled your forehead in cold beads. Behind your eyelids, Sophie’s nimble and darkly spotted hands worked on a suit, meanwhile Michael was ran ragged around the castle to try to fulfill orders, Calcifer bellowed for attention and eggs and bacon, and Howl’s hair whipped up in the breeze as he spun round and round with another lovely.

Your entire face twitched when a large hand smoothed across the top of your head, a damp weight of something laid spread across your forward, unpleasant and clammy unlike Sophie’s warm hand. “Hey. Don’t take the newt from the shelf, it’ll get on the floor.”

Howl gave a bemused smile that took a while to dissipate. You continued to babble incoherently here and there about things that didn't matter while the peaks of his knuckles simply rocked across your temple and cheek.

“I’ll keep that in mind. I pray that Sophie has made herself useful instead of sticking her nose in on us again.” He said with lightness in voice, peering across his shoulder towards the bolted doorway to be sure. “Good. She seems to think I only make you worse in these states. I would never.”

You were sure you were hearing his voice at this point, rousing you from the cluster in your head until your eyes fixed with his, wonderful and marble-like. They were softer than usual, glittering like the sea when the sun hung highest, making the water like a trove of dazzling treasure.

“Your eyes are amazing, Howell.” You whispered hoarsely, swallowing through the desert in your throat. “I don’t notice them enough.”

His smile took on something brighter, almost as though delighted you took notice of something that menial. “I would agree with you there! You can look as long as you’d like. Tell me more about it.”

“I think about us sometimes, Howell.” It was a strange feeling right now, the words you spoke were the first to float forward in your mind. You knew you were speaking garbled silliness, still you didn’t think better of it. “I remember college together, before we came to Ingary. I remember how you used to look before you… started doing the enchantment stuff. I feel like I’ve forgotten you.”

The lines in his lips were significantly deeper as they pulled down, his hand halted against your skin. It was either the thought that you felt such a disconnect from him, or the reminiscence of who he once was that brought the sullen look of his on. No longer was there a glitter of childish joy, but rather of anxiety, of concern.

“Nonsense. You’re talking nonsense just like Sophie and Calcifer.” He moved closer to you on the bed, rolling your arm from its spot as the mattress bent. Next, the pillow cradling your head flattened, his hands cuffed into the thick fabric as he leaned across you, your eyes only able to see him. “I… I’m still here. I have not left you, I wouldn’t entertain the thought. Didn’t I tell you that wherever I’d go from here on out, you would have to be right with me?”

You only wished he’d tell you such things in every other state of being, instead of during the peak of being bedridden. “I want to believe you, but in this world I am as ordinary as the hat makers and bakers. I’m replaceable. I wonder if that will happen one day.”

Noticeably distraught from the creases deepening around the corners of his mouth, and his eyes flitting wildly around your face as though in panic. He came down onto his elbows, caging you below him as his fear neared, his hot breath inches away.

“What makes you think I could ever replace you? Has someone put that bull into your head? Was it Calcifer—the pest? Was it a panderer we met the other day?” Now that he was so close to you, his voice had lowered and it rumbled. “Or, are you so sleep deprived, so loopy that you’re finally now telling me your heart?”

“Does it matter what I confess to you now?” you asked, pushing your head deeper into the feathers and farther from him. As you turned your face away, he shifted to gently coax your chin forward with the daintiest touch of his fingertips. “I would be alone in that venture. In a matter of five, six, ten years—I’ll have all the age and lines you hate. I’m sure I’ll shrink even more.”

“You do realize we have someone in our house who already looks like that.” He said this jokingly, of course, but even in your fever, your hand shot up to pinch his arm. “H–Hey, stop! Furthermore, you’re making up stuff, who would be to say you’d be alone with your heart?”

The explanation to that was obvious, considering the whole business with Calcifer and the Witch, but you didn’t want to think about it. In fact, at any opportunity to steer your mind away from that debacle, you found it.

Once again, you tried to look away from him—both sleep was beginning to weigh on your bones more than what you imagine Howl would if he were to collapse, and away from the furor gleaming in his eyes. And once again, he pulled you back towards him.

“Sick as you are, I’d like to prove it to you.” It was an unusual thing to hear from him considering all his caution with appearance and health. You wondered if he was desperate to alleviate your distrust. “Why are you looking at me like that? Close your eyes—yeah, I would rather not risk your germs, but some things can’t be helped.”

You weren’t sure if your eyes slid shut from gravity, or from some sort of internal desire for him to do this. Either way, his hand returned adjacent to the other near your hair, tugging slightly at the strands and his breath came so close you felt it tremble against your lips.

And then, all at once, his breath snagged in his throat as the door was thrown open, bouncing off the wall with such force it vibrated. In waddled Old Sophie, arms conveniently free of anything other than an old wood broom with long, spidery bristles that she held aloft across her shoulder, eyes blazing and the most malicious you had ever seen them.

“I knew I shouldn’t have left you alone with this dog! This cretin, vile imbecile! This complete, utterly hopeless dolt!” She screeched, the layers of her dress billowed behind her as she started into the room as fast as her creaky old limbs could. “Get out, get out, get out! Away with you, you absolute user! Away! Away! Away! Begone!”

Howl yelped in surprise as the tiny old lady swung the broom with enough ferocity for you to feel the air gush and whoosh around you.

“You demented old coot! Swinging brooms and the like around, are you completely classless?!” he propelled himself upright, expertly ducking her onslaught until he was well out the door into the hall. “I won't forget this!”

As luck would have it, their bickering continued on even once they were out of the room, even fifteen minutes later when Michael weaseled through the threshold with your bone broth and bolted the door behind him.

divider by @/anlian-aishang

reposted from my deleted blog officiallytheduchess/cardeneiv

[geekynerfherder]

Showcasing art from some of my favourite artists, and those that have attracted my attention, in the field of visual arts, including vintage; pulp; pop culture; books and comics; concert posters; fantastical and imaginative realism; classical; contemporary; new contemporary; pop surrealism; conceptual and illustration.

The art of Oliver Wetter.

[aeshttp]

a lazy morning.

an average morning between you and your lover howl.

read under the cut!!

Soft, warm rays of sunlight slipped through the billowing curtains, splaying across your face, highlighting delicate features, as you slept peacefully beside Howl- who stared adoringly.

It was rare for Howl to be awake before you- adamant on his 'beauty sleep', and that it was entirely inappropriate to attempt to rouse him from bed before 1pm.

Yet with the alluring scene before him- long lashes dusting gently against smooth skin and pink lips slightly agape as you inhaled, it was a shame that he almost always missed you in all your radiance whilst asleep- the true sleeping beauty.

Feverish with love, Howl clambered on top of you gently, making sure not to put his entire body weight unto you, before peppering kisses all over that pretty face, starting from your forehead and skirting just by your mouth.

"Darling..." he moaned, akin to a petulant child demanding attention, pouting as your nose twitched and brows furrowed, lightly attempting to buck Howl off, most likely still enraptured in a dream.

Huffing indignantly, he took placed his head in the crook of your neck, slowly inhaling the citrusy scent that permeating from you, thoroughly comforted that you smelt so similar to home, a place that he'd always be able to find within you.

He found that it was easier to feel at ease snuggled up to you, rather than simply draping a leg over your torso or practically shoving you off the bed as his body subconsciously demanded space. From here, he could here the slow thrum of your heart, a direct contrast how his was beating rapidly- almost about to burst. You needn't do anything and you'd succeed in driving him insane, carrying so much love for you he could hardly contain it, unable to swallow as he closed his eyes, content to feel your body under his, a way to guarantee you wouldn't leave him.

A content purr left him, feeling your hands rake gently through his locks, inwardly preening at the care he had taken towards it so that you could enjoy its full extent.

No words needed to be exchanged between you, actions enough to convey the devotion you felt for each other.

Howl decided that early mornings weren't that bad.

[fanartka]

What if...?

Imagine Stephen Strange as Howl and Clea as Sophie

[kairiscorner]

guys i had this thought now it's driving me crazy

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

imagine watching howl's moving castle with noir.

"a moving castle?" he'd ask himself with a head tilt as he'd adjust his glasses to see the title better. you nodded. "i promise you, it's an amazing film, peter." you'd beam. he'd shrug, and smile. "well, if you say so, love." he'd say as he sits back on the couch as you put the movie on. at first, peter believed this was another, probably childish and whimsical, children's movie that you somehow found nostalgic. he doubted that it was as amazing as you claimed it'd be, but he stood corrected. he was already in awe at the different kinds of colors there were on the screen--all kinds of blues, greens, reds, oranges, and yellows--they all blended beautifully and perfectly, in ways he had never thought would fit together.

he loved the witty dialogue from the characters, his most favorite character being calcifer. "poor little flame," he'd whisper as you two watched the scene where sophie was pressing the pan down on him to cook breakfast. he disliked howl at first, he seemed like quite the womanizer. "oh, if i were sophie's father, i'd never let her leave without me." he'd say as he'd lean forward in his trance as he watched. you giggled as you leaned against him on the couch, his arm wrapped around you as you rested your head against his shoulder. "and why not?" you asked with a smile. peter glanced at you and chuckled. "well... i'd never want my own daughter's heart to be eaten." he said as he adjusted his glasses again.

"you know he doesn't actually consume hearts, he just..." you trailed off as peter held you closer to him. "i know, i know; it's metaphorical. but no matter what..." he said as he placed his hand under your chin and slowly turned your head to look at him as the movie continued playing.

you looked so stunning all the time to peter, every little bit of you shone, literally and figuratively. but here, in the dimly lit living room you two shared--with you looking deep into his mesmerizing eyes--with the light of the film's ending playing out in the background as you two swam in the expanse of each other's eyes for a second or two, you looked breathtaking.

"now... it might just be a movie and all, but... i'd never let anyone eat your heart." he said with a slight chuckle as he took your hands in his, a blush coming on his face as the tips of his ears turned a bright red, along with the bright red and pink on his cheeks. "it sounds weird, i know, but i'd never live with myself if i knew someone else would be capable of stealing you away from me, much more a womanizer like that... howl pendragon. i know how you look at him." he teased as he nuzzled his nose into your cheek.

you chuckled. "he's a drawing, peter..." you responded. "yeah, but... i want to be the guy that makes you feel pretty even on a bad day, a guy who'd make you fall for him over and over and over again even if we've known each other from long ago. the guy who you'd... you know..." he said as he moved his face closer to yours. "...the kind you'd... wanna marry one day." he'd say as your eyelids fluttered, tickling his cheeks.

at that moment, you felt like you were sophie hatter; the humble love interest to the most perfect man in the world, peter parker, who was sort of like howl in the movie. he was witty, he was charming, he was emotional at times... and he loved the real, rawest version of you. even if you believed to yourself you were ugly, you were getting older, that nobody would look at you with such pure love that you didn't believe the world could ever give you--peter was always there to prove you wrong. he was there to prove you were perfect, stunning, and most of all: you were beautiful no matter how old you got, how bad your day was, or how tired you were. you were always, always beautiful to him, that much he knew, and that much would never change--ever.

"i love you, my dearest... you're so beautiful. you're too beautiful for my heart to handle, love..." he'd murmur as you planted a kiss on his soft lips that only wished to kiss and be kissed by your own. be it with lipstick or none, with tears coating them or dry and chapped, be it in the morning, noon, or night--your lips are the only ones he'll love kissing, over and over and over; even when an eternity would pass, he'd still remember and fall in love with the shape, the softness, and the loveliness of your lips--for they are the lips of the most beautiful person peter has ever met, and ever will meet.

"that's my girl." peter muttered as he pulled away, blushing fiercely after you kissed him. "you're red..." you pointed out as you pulled him in for another kiss, with him mumbling out some answer that was pretty much a compliment within a compliment for you. the movie had ended, but your night with peter had just begun.

a/n: gonna leave this here for y'all to be delulu about what you two do after <33

tags !! @thecoolerdor @miguelswifey04 @sabcandoit @binibinileonara @connors-cumslurper @luvstarrstruck @maxoloqy @k4tsu3 @fictarian

[dreamcrow]

i am a simple man: i see a tender character art post. i immediately become possessed by the spirit of gay ship art.

[readinglistfics]

this BOY

is voiced by LARS MIKKELSEN in the danish dub

gifs are by @warminthewintersblog

SOMEBODY SEDATE ME

BECAUSE IM GONNA WATCHING HOWL’S MOVING CASTLE ON REPEAT FROM NOW ON

HIS NAME IS HOWL BECAUSE HE WANTS ME TO HOWL HIS NAME SO BAD—(gets shot)

@handbaskethell source link here!!

[fuumiku]

i love how you draw chilchuck with gray hairs<3

Ty <3 We have to take up Kui’s torch and carry on her legacy even as she and Trigger couldn’t keep it going for workload reasons…

[aspiringauthorintraining]

A Fateful Encounter (7/?)

Knowing it was now futile to try and stop Howl’s meltdown from occurring, you put your remaining energy into something useful and decided to make dinner. Purposely making extra for Howl when he came back, on the slight chance that having food in him would somehow lessen his dramatics in the future- and put some sense into him.

Sophie and Markl had retired to bed soon after dinner, leaving you to spark a conversation with the only other awake in the castle. And though he remained silent when asked about a certain topic of yours, others the resident fire demon had no qualms chattering your ears off about. 

“Well, first thing would be to get out of this place.”

“And then? What’s next on the list for the Great Fire Demon Calcifer once he’s free?” Expecting another lengthy response, you were surprised to see the fire demon with such a pensive expression. 

“I-I never thought that far...” he replied after a pause. “...I always thought that once I leave this hellhole, I’d figure out what to do, you know?” A moment passed before he spoke again, this time with a much lighter tone. “All I know is that I’m never coming back to this castle, that’s for sure!”

A teasing smile formed on your lips at his certainty. “Are you sure? I feel like you would miss us too much to leave in the first place.”

The fire demon gasped in horror. 

“I would never! Never would I willingly come back to this place unless it was to burn down everything down in front of Howl’s eyes.”

“Mhmm,” you hummed with a knowing grin, choosing not to argue with the fire demon for now.

With the help of Calcifer’s endless jabbering, eventually the talk turned into another one of his rants about the unfair working conditions for- and in the exact words he used- a “poor fire demon” such as himself. But apart from the noisy fire demon, it seemed as the castle itself had fallen into a slumber, calm and serene with its walls bathed in a golden warmth emitting from the fireplace. 

As the night grew, the occasional noise or nod of agreement with his words became more lethargic by the hour. It wasn’t long until your drooping eyes eventually closed shut, joining the rest of the castle into a peaceful sleep. 

_________________________

The whirl of the door dial broke the stillness of the castle, the entrance opening for the master of the castle himself. 

His feet trudged to the front of the fire place, feathers covered in the debris from the aftermath of bombs dropped on civilian homes. He immediately dropped down into the nearby chair in exhaustion. A small groan was heard as feet were propped up onto the edge of the fireplace.

“You okay? You smell terrible.” Calcifer grimaced, worried about the state of the wizard. A strong smell of ash and soot wafted into the room, growing stronger within the confined castle walls. “You shouldn’t keep flying around like that- soon you won’t be able to turn back into a human.”

The wizard could only groan. Feathered wings seemingly disappeared back into his grand coat, sharp claws back into shoes that had now lost their shine. His transformation ended with a heavy sigh, sinking further down into his chair. A brief conversation of the ongoing war was made before the castle returned back to silence.

The figure beside him went unnoticed- whether due to his current state or because he hadn’t sensed any threat- until a soft breathing was heard through the quietness. Head lazily turned to the right, his tired eyes landed on the source of the noise.

You were curled up in the wooden chair, head in a position that would most likely result in stiffness in your neck the following morning. 

His gaze lingered on you for some time, before noticing the plate of food on the fireplace in the corner of his eye. With the realization that the plate was meant for him, his attention returned to you once more. Calcifer observed the two of you in front of him while munching on his log, before looking away disinterestedly. 

Soft light now streamed through the windows as dawn approached, birds soon to chirp to the early morning.

His eyes glazed over trying to recognize the familiarity he felt in the moment, but the memory refused to come within grasp. He searched through the dark expanse of his mind, only to draw a blank. 

“I’m tired. Make some hot water for my bath.”

“Again?” Calcifer whined, waving what was left of his half-eaten log around in the air in annoyance.

The visibly displeased fire demon was ignored as Howl stood up, bringing his arms out of his coat to carry you. With a flick of his finger, the chair you had been sleeping in now was transformed into a well-sized cot. And with another, you were wrapped cozily in a blanket that had appeared out of nowhere and then tucked into the cot. 

Satisfied with his work before him, the wizard disappeared up the stairs- a warm plate in his hands.

______________________

*(A/N): I’m back. hehe. 

I haven’t updated anything in a while but thank you to everyone who’s still leaving comments and checking in. Basically, I have some health problems that flared up again making me sick so I’ve been focusing on my health and just resting. I posted this series to have fun so I wanted to continue doing it when I was feeling better and not forcing myself to write. I’m feeling much better now so hopefully you’ll see more of me soon! And although it’s not naked Howl, I hope you still enjoy this chapter. Thank you.

[crochetandcrying]

I want a Howls' moving castle tv series made with the same love and care of G.O

Don't get me wrong, I love the Ghibli movie, but we all know that's not 100% accurate to the book. And yes, I know there are some slight changes from Good Omens from book to screen, but all it did was make a decades old story a bit fresher and relevant. I think Howl Moving castle deserves the same loving treatment.

This is purely just a thing i'd like to see. A wish list if you will. Between writers strikes, legal issues and whatever else, Its just something to imagine:

First of all, i'd like it to be very, very Welsh. I'm not Welsh, but Howl is, and I think the TV series should celebrate it, particularly if there is a chance a wider audience would watch it. I'd love to see entire scenes (or episodes!) in Welsh, particularly when Howell visits home (yes I know they speak English in Wales)

I want lots of cosy british scenery. I want it to feel like i've been transported to the mid 90s and i'm watching a pastorial classic whenever they show the sweeping countryside of Igary. Want a vaguely "otherworldly" feel? film these scenes in New Zealand.

I would like an extremely popular and internationally known Welsh actor to play the king. The King is described as kind of an everyman, familiar and almost at odds with his royal status. it's a small role but imagine if someone like Christian Bale (that would be a great nod!) or Michael Sheen took the role.

Omg the fashion. I think they did a pretty good job with the vaguely British otherworldly fashion of Ingary in the Ghibli world, but I'd love to see another interpretation. I Imagine a sort of 90s Whimsygoth feel would be immaculate.

Modernised, not modern. The only thing I absolutely DO NOT want is a modernised version like what happened to The Watch. Sure, update Wales, and tinker with some of the dated views (such as the age gap of young Sophie/ Lettie and Howl), but keep the essence. Sophie is a boss without being a fighter. We know Howl is trash, but we love him like that

Feel free to reblog and add your own suggestions :)

[2kmps]

Morning Routine

howl pendragon x reader | 1,534 words

synopsis; it could never just be a peaceful morning in the castle. not while howl was around, not as long as he had time to disturb your bath.

notes; book!howl-coded bc he's a massive fucking brat here, slice of life moment, implied established relationship, roughly proofread, written 2021.

The cataclysm that was your life often began just as dawn broke across the sky, all with its hues of pink and orange spearing through the shroud of night. You knew it not by the caress of light seeping through the slithers of space between your curtains, nor by crowing roosters in their tragically optimistic song. In fact, by comparison to what you typically endured, a rooster would by far be your preference.

At that point, you had become attuned to stirring right around that time as it was; the fog of sleep still sat in your mind like an anvil, inciting your head back to your pillow for just a bit longer. You always resisted because it would never amount to anything anyway.

So there you sat, legs hanging like lead over the edge, shoulders and back rolled forward in such a way you felt the pull of gravity teetering you towards the floor.

You eyes were the last thing to adjust, keeping them closed for the most part until you found the bravery in you to put forth your feet and stand.

Most days, however, you waited for the castle to erupt.

And that it did.

Although notoriously not an early-riser, Howl had quite gotten into the habit recently for reasons you didn’t bother to explore, aside from petty teatimes with Sophie. His gait was unmistakable as he pounced down the stairs, attempting all the lightness of an antelope in his movements, but only ended up like a clumsy giraffe stumbling down them.

You thought you caught a waft of his new cologne or another from the gap beneath your door.

From there, you listened with an increasingly steady heart, anticipating the next things to come.

Below your feet you heard a mishmash of voices, all their owners very distinct, though their words were dulled by the splintery floorboards supporting your feet, and probably the fact your ears were still deafened to most sounds right now.

Sophie was likely asking what everyone wanted for breakfast, encouraging Michael to fetch you out of bed, to jab you a couple times in the ribs with a broom handle if you were being particularly fussy. He gave some affirmative, you were sure, listening to the lethargic groan of staircase.

Next came Howl’s voice, damn bold, bright, and too fucking chipper for this early in the morning. He was speaking with rapid succession, you could only assume it was a complaint about burnt bacon, or insisting he cook up his own eggs. It wasn’t unfathomable the dolt made mention of some travesty Sophie committed yesterday as well.

“Why you—first thing in the morning! This is what you let fly out of your flap?! I should’ve known you’re no good. Eat your bacon! Shush!” Sophie’s screech was clear and loud, jolting you upright from the remnants of your sleep. “The eggs are fine, you buffoon. There’s nothing—no, there’s nothing wrong with them!”

“I shouldn’t have to make breakfast every morning!” Howl rejoined, being the only thing you could discern through the floorboards before an awful, cacophonous contest of bellows erupted from downstairs.

You rose to your feet then, swaying back on your heels for just a second as you propelled yourself towards the door, throwing it open against the wall just as Michael’s knuckles had come forward on it to knock.

“Oh, mornin’, figured you were awake.” Michael said, rubbing away the sleep in his eyes. “I think Calcifer overcooked the bacon, but you know Howl.”

“Mmmya,” came the grunt from your throat as you sidled past him in the doorway, onward towards the bathroom, missing the kid’s utterly apathetic, distant stare after you.

Even with the thick door shut and the ferocious hiss of water gushing into the bathtub, you still heard traces of their argument downstairs. You tried to pay little heed to it as you sat along the rim of the rub, a foot hiked across your knee as your fingertips glided in a dance across the rippling surface, testing the temperature by plunging your hand to the wrist, smacking your palm on the bottom of the tub.

At this stage in the morning, you didn’t have the capacity to understand and express emotion let alone meditate whatever their spit was today.

As the mirrors dotted throughout the bathroom began to fog, steam swirling around you in white puffs that touched your skin the same as a warm breath; familiar yet always new enough, you shucked off your night clothes and stepped in carefully. You had ran the temperature too high, but your shared frugal nature with Sophie made it but impossible to drain the tub—or worse, use even more water.

The heat nipped at your toes, searing the pads of your feet as you bounced from one to the other. It crept higher to your shins, to your thighs and groin, hips, waist, and finally the rest of you as you slowly submerged your body beneath the fragrant waters. The eucalyptus and lemongrass floated inside your nostrils as you breathed; both a classic, yet harmonious meld that brimmed your lungs and parted from your lips.

“Ah! I knew it! You were the one who stitched a patch into my suit! Michael, look at this hideousness! I can’t wear this!” Howl lamented, his sheer agony managed to seep through the crevices in the floorboards into the bathroom.

You weren’t sure how.

There was a pause, presumably of reluctance before Michael offered his thoughts. “Why not? It looks fine to me.”

“Michael!” Howl exclaimed, his voice jumping a to a higher pitch, clearly affronted. “My own apprentice says such things. Where did I fail? Was it when, out of the kindness of my soul—my very being, Michael, when I let Sophie start sleeping on the cot?”

“Can’t you pipe down?” said Sophie in exasperation. “Some people are trying to enjoy their morning. Now, stop being a baby and go put your suit away.”

Of course, the fighting did not end, and you resigned to drowning out their voices to incoherent shouts for the sake of enjoying your bath. Even still, your eyes floated about the bathroom lazily; noting the many absolute useless trinkets that decorated the walls, to the bottles of dyes and cosmetics rammed haphazardly atop the sink, stacked thoughtlessly.

It was much the same on the adjacent rim of the bathtub touching the wall, Howl’s collection of mysterious dyes, shampoos, scrubs, and washes were all in unmarked glass bottles.

You thought some even glowed.

You could barely bring yourself to look above the containers at the white walls stained like an artist’s palette after a time of mixing, dabbing, adding, and stippling. It was mostly curiosity that led you to reaching a hand above water, attempting to dig a nail under a splotch of vibrant red, grimacing once you realized it was not coming up.

“God, he just needs to suck it up and take some bleach from his sister.” You groused, scraping dutifully at the stain with some hope any amount of red would chip away.

You had anticipated for the fighting downstairs to eventually migrate to the top floor. It was less an attempt of escape on Howl’s part and more of his desire to complain to you until the evening at this new wickedness of Sophie’s.

Predictably, feet pounded up the staircase, rattling the oddities on the walls and jingling others as the hallway exploded with all the ferocity of a thundering stampede. You heard first the noise stop at your bedroom door, Howl’s voice echoing your name urgently before tromping onward.

The eucalyptus was getting deep into your muscles at that point, you didn’t even consider the fact that the tips of Howl’s boot-clad toes peeked beneath the bathroom door.

For some reason, you expected a smidge of courtesy and rapping knuckles against the wood door, not it swinging open hard enough to strike the wall behind it and bounce off it.

Howl surged forward into the bathroom, swiping the steamy air with his suit as he thrust it out at arm’s length. “Look! Look at what what that sad old woman did! Can you see it? This patch is hideous, and right in the elbow! I’m beside myself, you need to stop her—”

“What in the living hell, Howl!” You shouted, unsure of what parts of you were appropriate to cover, so you simply ripped the shower curtain over until all except your head was hidden. “I don’t care! Get out!”

Howl let out a horrified gasp, clutching the suit jacket closer to his chest. “You don’t care? What world am I living in that my sweetest, my beloved does not share in my pain? We swore ourselves to share agony and hardships and—”

“Oh my god, Howell! I’m trying to take a bath! Scram!” The first bottle flung was in plastic, an orange dye to be precise. Your hands felt along the cluttered wall for anything else light. “Git! Git! Git!”

Howl ducked around your onslaught, nearing closer to the door as he went. “That awful woman! Look at how she’s rubbed off on you! I won’t forgive her.”

“Holy hell, Howell! Go!"

divider by; @/anlian-aishang

reposted from my deleted blog, cardeneiv

please interact and reblog if you enjoyed!!

[wildlymish]

Elliott from SDV with Howl Pendragon's voice.

That's it. That's the entire post.

[dramatic-delirium]

AU where Howl is considered Spiderman because his house is filled with them.

By Howl I mean Mr Howell Jenkins who owns a castle that can float.

By them I mean spiders. He houses spiders. The absolute madman. No particular reason, he just likes them. (And how they fix their webs even if you ruin them forever, which is cute but also I do not have the stomach to have spiders crawling around in my bedroom my guy)

Also he has no noticable powers, nor actual responsibilities tbh. He's Spiderman like how spider-therapist is Spiderman.

He's is not contacted by Spider society because Miguel is jealous of him sustaining a family in another universe doesn't like anomalies. Howl knows of Spider-verse and all but is, as always, an unbothered icon.

Nothing different happens.