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cloudy-em · 6 months

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Howl Pendragon Fluff Headcanons

❁ Howl is incredibly loving. He is kind, caring, loyal, a bit overdramatic, and simply an amazing man to have around.

❁ One of his favorite ways to show you love is to give gifts. And I mean he makes it his sole purpose to spoil you. Love to read? Whoops, suddenly the castle has a library. Enjoy nature? He's taking you out to see the most beautiful waterfalls he knows of.

❁ He wants you to see yourself as he sees you; like starlight. He'll try everything he can to turn you into a real narcissus. Not in a "bad" way; he just wants you to know exactly how stunning you and your soul are.

❁ Howl also loves to show you off. He walks proudly around as though parading you around with your arms hooked, your hand resting just in the crook of his elbow as he leans his head down to whisper something to you.

❁ While you're shopping for bread and speaking politely with a vendor, Howl suddenly runs his hand down your bicep. When you turn around, he's bowing and offering you a flower that he bought from a nearby stand. You blush (and he takes great pride in this) and accept his gift, and when you do, he gently lifts your hand to his lips, placing a soft kiss on the back of your hand.

❁ I personally have an idea in which Howl gifts you books and puts folded pieces of paper between the pages to point out the quotes he thinks describe you. (Would anybody read? Please comment or send an ask!)

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skirtsan · 6 months

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sophie and howl

twitter // bsky // instagram // portfolio

#studio ghibli #howl hmc #sophie hmc

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crybaby-writings · 10 months

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Afterglow {Howl Pendragon x Reader}

gender neutral!reader

it was quiet. unusual, but not unwelcome. the ever moving castle wobbled in its feet slightly, causing glassware and ceramics to 'dink' together softly. the silence was calming, completely the opposite of the usual loud and boisterous happenings of the magic building.

sitting in a chair next to a sleeping calcifer, the warmth of his fire seemed to seep into your bones, a feeling akin to being wrapped in your favorite sweater during the dead of winter. as you leaned back in your rickety old chair, the ceiling became the most fascinating thing in the room.

the softly tinkling sounds of things bumping around howl's room upstairs became a sort of background noise to your sudden reminiscing. "a heart is a heavy burden," he had said. having a heart was indeed a heavy burden, one that unironically seemed to pull at your chest and weigh you down.

before your thoughts could stray any further, a soft hand was atop your shoulder. there stood the wizard of this castle, hair mussed up and clothes askew. he has obviously been woken up by something, though you weren't sure what. his head hung tiredly as he swayed in his spot beside you.

"my star, are you okay? are you coming back to bed?" his voice was just above a whisper as he spoke, careful to keep quiet. a soft smile slipped onto your face as his eyebrows pinched in concern. "yes darling, im alright." you replied softly, reassuring the man beside you. "let's go back to bed, my love."

he nodded at your words, reaching out for your hand as you stood up. hand in hand, as a pair, you made your way up the stairs and into howl's room. patiently and carefully you maneuvered around the cluttered floor and moved to lay on the surrounded bed. softly leaning on one another, the soft starlight and the low creaks of the castle lulled you both to sleep.

#☆— ash writes #this is short and probably shit but i tried #it's been a long time since i've actually written anything #howl's moving castle #howl pendragon #howl x reader #howl pendragon x reader #howls moving castle x reader #howls moving castle #howl #x reader #fluff #hmc #howl hmc

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2kmps · 6 months

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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

#howl x you #hmc howl #howlscastle #howl's moving castle #howls moving castle #howl pendragon #howl x y/n #howl x reader #howl pendragon x y/n #howl pendragon x you #howl pendragon x reader #hmc imagines #hmc fic #howl hmc #hmc book #hmc #2k writes

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ghiblimedia · 3 months

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𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐇𝐨𝐰𝐥’𝐬 𝐌𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐂𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐥𝐞

🎥 𝐇𝐨𝐰𝐥’𝐬 𝐌𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐂𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐥𝐞 (𝟐𝟎𝟎𝟒)

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athena-theunicorn · 7 months

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There's this song I found called howl and sophie by this really small artist on spotify and I can't find the lyrics for it anywhere so this is me trying to decipher the lyrics.

Go listen to the song because it actually slaps.

The sunlights overhead, I'm not sober These days in my bed, things aren't over

I was nothing but a playboy looking for a scapegoat Looking for a way out, I was going too fast I had almost spun out Silly kid, a heart thats why it motherfuckin burns now Thats some nice fellas and its looking like a gang now I was on the road living life without a fear, not a care with no issues Blondie with a smile, I ain't ever need no tissues Every day another continent, lets see what we get into I finesse her with the magic touch, she know it isn't really much But if you see a problem that you need well imma get it done So you walked the block, a couple demons out here chasing fun Cut a couple corners, fucking take my hand we're going up And she like "where you taking me?" I said "into the vegas scene" lets walk above the rooftops and talk about just what you think of me Before I hit the road again Till I'm alone in this house again

The daytime burns so bright, the nights get colder Will you still love me when we grow older? The daytime burns so bright, the nights get colder I looked into your eyes and saw my future.

So yeah. That's what I gathered, but I could be wrong. Anyway, go listen to howl and sophie by Era Green because it actually slaps.

#sophie and howl #howl jenkins pendragon #howl pendragon #howl's moving castle #howls moving castle #hmc #sophie hatter #hmc movie #howell jenkins #howl x sophie #howl hmc

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everything-feels-so-sureal · 1 year

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I finally rewatched howls moving castle today after reading the book version last year and i realized i love both versions equally. the movie is the romanticized version and it depicts the love between sophie and howl in a way that only a studio ghibli movie could. the book shows the story in a more down to earth way. rather than dreamily floating in the air, howl and sophie dont actually get along at first with the parallel between the story and the book where in the movie, sophie is being hit on by two soldiers in an alleyway and is saved my howl and in the book, howl is the one chatting her up. i remember reading another post that said that we should think of the movie as howl’s perspective and the book as sophie’s perspective and i really like that idea. i would say that i enjoyed the movie a lot more after reading the book because it helped me understand more of the storyline and what was actually going on. stories can be told and interpreted in differing ways depending on how you read and understand how they were explained. i think both versions are beautiful stories of a girl who learns to love herself through loving others and through finally realizing that your worth is what you make it. once sophie was free of being stuck in the hat shop as the eldest sister with no opportunities for what she could do with her life, she was able to create her own way of being happy that is most fitting for her. thank you to both diana wynne jones and to hayao miyazaki for telling the beautiful story of howls moving castle

#howls moving castle #hmc #howls moving castle book #hmc book #sophie hmc #howl hmc #hmc movie #sophie hatter #howl pendragon #howl jenkins pendragon #lmao why does howl have such a dorky name #movie review #book review #studio ghibli #ghibli #ghiblilover #Spotify

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beegzez · 1 year

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i love fanart of howl that makes him unbelievably attractive because in the books hes canonically a mid little welsh boy who doesn't want to do his university assignments. you guys are being FOOLES by his attractiveness potions

#howls moving castle #howls moving castle book #dianna wynne jones #hmc book #howl hmc #ybeed ybee

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skirtsan · 11 months

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Howl’s Moving Castle portrait thingy?

twitter // instagram // portfolio

#howl pendragon #howl fanart #howls moving castle #sophie #sophie hmc #howl hmc #hauru no ugoku shiro

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kazuha-pista-badam · 29 days

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howl: come on, i wasn’t that drunk last night

calcifer: you were flirting with sophie

howl: so what? she's my wife

calcifer: you asked her if she was single

howl:

calcifer: & then you cried when she said she wasn't

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pidgefudge · 11 months

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drunk howl movingcastle was so iconic

#howl pendragon #howl jenkins pendragon #howl hmc #hmc book #howl's moving castle

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2kmps · 7 months

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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!!

#hmc imagines #hmc fic #hmc howl #howl hmc #hmc book #hmc #howl x you #howlscastle #howl's moving castle #howls moving castle #howl pendragon x y/n #howl pendragon x you #howl pendragon x reader #howl pendragon #howell jenkins #2k writes

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