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cosmic-waves7 · 5 months ago

Note

Hi!!! I saw that you write for Howls and I was wondering if we could get some hcs in how his so cares for him? Whether that be after a tough day physically or mentally or silly pampering him. How does Howl want and receive his comfort?

Preen

note: sort of went on an unofficial hiatus lol, but im finally on holiday yippee :)))) anyway i'm sure I've done this sort of request or smth before but I just love howl so much, he deserves all the love mwah <3

Warnings: nthn, just clingy howl and lots of sickening fluff.:3

Howl Pendragon x reader

It feels like the exhaustion is trying to imbed itself within his bones.

Howl struggles past the front door, His feet dragging as the castle door close with a resounding ding! signaling a new and hopefully much more calming scenery outside. He can't think of that now though.

bed, sleep, rest..now...

he could topple over at any moment.

The aroma of hot savory onion soup overtook his senses, he could almost feel the heady warmth of the liquid down his throat, burning away the worries and hardships of the day leaving him sated and drowsy. He could barely wait.

"Oh no you don't." Suddenly, soup didn't seem all that important.

Nimble fingers slip past his shoulders, pushing away his coat and fussing with its buttons. Howl's eyes landed on you blearily as he called out your name dreamily while reaching for you, his fingers smoothing out over any exposed skin he could reach and nuzzling into your blushing neck.

"Missed you." He mumbles quietly, his breath tickling you slightly. He pulled you in tighter as if trying to carve himself into you, trying to mold your bodies and souls into one. Too bad your offending apron and clothes prevented him.

"Poor baby." You coo as you brush through his hair, fingers carding through messily strewn strands and pressing into worn out muscles. "Okay time for a bath, then dinner."

"Nooo diner-"

"No, c'mere." You grinned with an air of finality, ushering him up the stairs ensuring he doesn't try flopping onto the cushy sofas in front of a grumbling calcifer, you're too used to his tricks and it comforts him to fall into your familiar routine. You sneak some more wood to the fire demon, a silent promise from his side to keep the thick onion soup bubbling and the bathtub upstairs equally toasty.

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

Howl's staring into the soapy water, helplessly letting you wash his hair and scrub the grime off his skin, occasionally he plays with your free hand. you're both so very naked, so very vulnerable yet peacefully cleaning and gently caring for each other. A silly smile overtakes his lips as he remembers his flirtatious attempt for more...unorthodox intentions while you rolled your eyes and cheekily pushed him into the tub.

It should feel like a snug fit in the tub but magic has its perks and you're both settled into a pool of bubbles that would comfortably fit around three to four people. Howl shivers once more while you splashed water onto his richly dark hair. It hung limply over his eyes as you rubbed his back and pressed deliciously into his taught tendons, it took everything in him to not wantonly moan into your ear so he only let soft ragged breaths escape him as he gripped at your palms where you were sat behind him.

He could feel your smirk. You truly were his undoing.

Just as howl was about to let his eyes fall close and sleep to overtake him you pushed at his shoulders and complained loudly.

"Bath time is over you big oaf, get off i cant breath!"

Howl immediately saw his opening to tease you.

"I don’t know” He airly replied, slumping further into you while pretending to sleep and become dead-weight on top of your struggling form “It’s so comfortable here, I could just rest for a while~”

“Howl.” You warned.

“You wouldn’t mind right?”

You tugged at his hair with slight harshness

“Ouch!”

“Out! You’re clean. Now stop pouting.”

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

Finally in fresh night-clothes, bellies full of soup and crunchy buttery toast, you're longing for sleep but the need to be in each others presence is stronger so you move to the living room in front of calcifer's hearth as he grumbles away about how much work he does around the castle. Howl shushes him with more firewood while you tuck little Markle to bed, before returning to cuddle up on the loveseat with a blanket wrapped round to stay cozy.

Eventually you find yourself preening through Howl's nearly-dry hair again whilst he settles his head against your chest and the rest of his body lays between your open thighs with his back facing you. All is quiet for a moment, only calcifer's crackling and your calming breaths fill the room as you rub at his scalp and untangle stray locks when a thought strikes you.

"Howl, dear."

"Hmm?" He hums tiredly letting one eye open.

"You know, you're a lot like a bird." You put a finger over his lips before he starts scowling about his more beastly raven-like form " In the sense that you always like your hair played with, a lot like how birds like their feathers preened. Especially by their bird partner."

You smiled down at him openly, he couldn't help but smile back.

"Oh? So that makes you my bird partner now, doesn't it?" He had one eyebrow raised while peeking up at you.

"Of course." You grinned, playing along.

"We'd make wonderful Swans then." He said with a serious expression.

"Why is that?" You blinked curiously, wondering why he was reaching closer for your face.

"Because they mate for life.''

and he followed his silent promise with a deep kiss.

BONUS:

“You know, I think you’d make for a wonderful peacock instead. Show off.” You muttered

“Quiet now, you love me.”

:))))

#bye im literally melting into a cringy puddle of love #fluff #howl pendragon x reader #howl's moving castle #howl jenkins pendragon #howl x reader #my favorite wizard himbo #he's so silly <3 #when will it be my turn :((#pls tell me you understood that i lowkey set them up for a spiderman kiss #cuz i barely know how to write character positionings

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hellsquills · 2 months ago

Text

Disclaimer: I know about the duffle bag Filbrick threw at him, but you can ignore that if you want

My thoughts below the cut! (this turned into a whole ass fic lmao)

My personal headcanon is that Filbrick is as much of a coward as he is of an asshole. Therefore, he wouldn't have kicked Stan when he did in canon. Probably not for a while after that.

However, he does try to send him to military school. He keeps talking about how this kid needs to learn discipline and respect, and if he's not gonna bring money to the house, then he should at least bring some honor to his family.

Stan obviously does NOT want to go. Not only because it's a pointless war ("what've the vietnamese done to us anyways?") but because he remembers his mother's face when Shermie got drafted and he will NOT make her go through that hell again. Also, he doesn't wanna die!!!! Hello?????

He talks it out over the phone with Ford, who's obviously just as against it as he is. He tells Stan that, if he gets into a PhD program, he could skip military. Stan laughs in his face. It'd be easier to jump off the plane without a parachute.

And so, he comes up with a plan. When he goes to take his physical, he tries his best to botch it. If he is bad enough, if it looks like he can't do it, maybe he won't have to. Unfortunately, the recruiters are far too used to this by now, and they don't buy it. Stan goes home with a recruitment letter hidden in his jacket.

Everything goes downhill after that. He runs away from home, changes his name several times, does some crime here and there... The military is after him, and it doesn't take rejection kindly.

Stan stays out of contact with his family for a few years. He can't risk getting them involved in this mess. They don't deserve it. So he just leaves, without saying a word, in the middle of the night. No phone calls, no notes, nothing. Not even he knows where he's going. But if it just looks like he abandoned them, maybe they'll hate him. That will make them sound more believable with the police. They aren't covering for him, because they genuinely have no idea where he is. It's the best way to keep them safe.

In that time, Ford doesn't stop looking for him. He finds him every once in a while, but only his phone number, and he knows that could give away his brother's location and get the family in trouble. So, against his deepest instincts, he doesn't call.

One, three, five, seven years pass. Stan has been around almost all the country, and is genuinely considering leaving it. Maybe going to Mexico, or Colombia. Those sound nice. Maybe they'll be nicer to him.

He's passing his time and thinking about this in a small town restaurant in wherever he's in (somewhere he's not banned from, yet), when a family enters. He doesn't make eye contact, but he can't help but stare at them: a man and a woman, probably in their 50s, with 7 kids; one must be older than him, the second one around his age, the third one a little younger, the fourth one a teenager, and the last three between 10 and 15, no more. Except for the last three, they're all taller than him, even the mother, and they have various degrees of blond hair. Their clothes (overalls and plastic boots) suggest they must work in one of the farms he's seen around the state. They don't wear any accessories, except for the glasses that the father and four of the kids have. They're talking loudly and laughing. They look exhausted from a morning of hard work. They seem happy. They... look nothing like his family, and yet, he can't help but think about it.

He can't help the sob that comes to his throat. It's loud and messy from trying to suppress it, which obviously makes it worse. He covers his mouth immediately, and at that point he notices the tears that have run down his cheeks. "Great", he thinks, "that will make it easier to hide, for sure".

He doesn't move. He wants to escape, but that will draw even more attention to him, and he hasn't even paid for the food yet (normally he'd leave without paying, but the old waitress was kind enough to give him some extra food when she saw how little he ordered). He settles for not moving, lowering his head and covering his face, hoping that no one heard (unlikely) or cared (very likely).

"Ya'lright, son?"

The voice startles him. I wasn't very deep, but it was close enough to send his body into immediate danger mode. He looks up at the man towering over him, who's standing in front of him at a prudential distance.

"Y-Yeah, yeah, no worries."

He hates how broken his voice sounds. He's spent more than enough time sweet-talking his way out of trouble, he should be better at this by now. The man looks about as convinced by it as he is himself.

" 'lright then. Can I help ya?"

Damn villagers and their welcoming demeanor. If he wasn't a wanted man, he would appreciate it. But right now, it couldn't be worse timing.

"Come get ya food, kids!" The waitress' yell yanks him out of his thoughts.

"No", he blurts out, and he turns to the man. Least he can do is show him some respect and look him in the eyes. "I'm fine, thank you."

The man smiles lightly and nods. "Okay. Welcome to the town."

Stan watches as the man goes back to his table. He wishes he had been more polite, the guy was just worrying about him, but he can't afford it. They already know his face, he can't risk anyone else recognizing him-

"Sweet Mother of God almighty."

Stan turns to his right. One of the kids, the one about his age, is looking at him like he just grew a second head. He's frozen in place, his eyes wide as plates behind thick glasses. He doesn't say a word, and it's getting increasingly unnerving. Was the bruising on his face still visible? Maybe it's more apparent in broad daylight than in the shitty light that last motel had in the bathroom.

"I'm sorry, I- Can I ask your name?"

The fuck?

"No", answers Stan. Considering how nice his dad was, this guy is pretty rude.

"Son, leave him alone." The mother seems to have manners too, good to know.

The guy does pretty much the opposite. He comes closer to him, until he's right in his path, blocking his exit. That can't be good. Stan feels trapped.

"Are you Stanley Pines?"

Well, that's about it.

Stan tries his best to stay still. This guy doesn't look like a cop, not even an undercover one. But he knows his real name, so maybe someone in his family or friends works in the police; or worse, in the military.

"Listen man, I don't know who you're talking about, but that isn't my name. See?" He reaches for his wallet. He pulls out an ID, with a very clear Jackson Cage on it. He makes a mental note to change it soon, just in case his hunch is right and this guy has connections. "Now, if you excuse me, I'd like to pay for my food and leave. Move."

Stan is already on his feet, but the guy hasn't moved. Stan looks him up and down, trying to appear threatening despite his face probably still being a little red from before. He also gauges how feasible it'd be to escape if things turned bad; the dude is taller than him, sure, but he's also as thin as a toothpick, and by the anxious look on his face, he doesn't seem eager for a fight. The real problem would be evading the restaurant's staff and the other costumers, which include eight carbon copies of the guy in front of him. Probably better to try to de-escalate the situation.

"I- I can't let you leave. Please. I know who you are."

This man is making it really difficult to believe he's not a cop.

"No, you don't. I'm new in town. Move."

"Listen, I-"

"Move out of my way."

"I know your brother."

The words are like a bullet between his eyebrows.

"You look just like him-"

Against his better judgement, he quickly grabs he guy and pins him to the wood in between the booth benches, arm to his throat. If he knows Ford, he knows too much. God he just wanted to have lunch.

The commotion is immediate. He doesn't break eye contact with the guy who's grabbing his arm, whose strength is frankly surprising. He can hear, however, the screams from the dad and the siblings, as well as a couple of gasps from the other costumers. This is not going to go well, but fuck that. He's escaped worse.

"Stop!", the guy shouts as he keeps Stan's forearm from blocking his airway. "Don't hurt him! Don't get closer!"

It takes Stan a second to process what he said. The first part, sure, who wouldn't shout 'stop' when you're being attacked? But the second half doesn't make sense. Is he protecting him? The attacker?

Whatever it is, it works. The family stops in their tracks, still very ready to attack if needed. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see the three younger kids moving closer to their mother. For a split second, he feels a pang of remorse for the scene he just caused.

"Hang up the phone, Clarisse, it's okay. Please."

Stan looks in the direction the guy was talking to. Right behind him, the waitress reluctantly puts the phone down.

He looks back at the guy. He looks a little shaken up, probably from the impact his back (and his head?) made with the wooden plank, but he doesn't look scared. He almost looks... sympathetic? Stan is confused as hell.

"I know who you are", the guy whispers, low enough for Stan to hear alone. "You're Stanley Pines, and you have a brother named Stanford. I know him, okay? He's my friend. I met him a few years ago in a quantum physics congress and we've been talking ever since. He told me about his family in New Jersey, and about you. About how he hasn't seen you in years, and how he was trying to find you, to no avail."

Stan is gradually loosening his grip on the guy's neck, who takes a deep breath. He should know better, but- shit, hearing that Ford was looking for him was not what he expected. Even if he doesn't know yet if this guy is lying out of his ass, it's enough to make him doubt.

"I know you were called to Vietnam. He told me. I spent a week with him in his place when he found out, he was unconsollable. When you ran away, he called me. He knew what it meant for you and he thought he'd never see you again, whether you got caught or not. All because of that stupid war." Stan is now trembling a little, he knows it. This guy must know it too, with how close they are. If he stays here any longer he'll break down, but he can't move. Anything to hear his brother's name a little longer. "I know what it's like. Three of my cousins were drafted last year, and I know at least one of them won't be coming back home. Please... let me help you."

Stan meets his eyes. They're green and brown-ish, not unlike the immense fields he's seen in his last journey, the one that led him to this town. With the years, he's learned not to trust beautiful eyes, because they are better at hiding. These ones, however, seem serene and honest, just like his words, and he can't help but believing them. This guy, whoever the fuck he is, knows just about enough.

Stan lowers his right arm. The guy still has his hand on it, but this time is much less defensive and much more comforting. He doesn't complain.

"My name's Fiddleford McGucket, and I'm gonna help you find your brother."

______________________________

Essentially, after this Fidds calls Ford as if nothing happened (per Stan's request, since he's still paranoid about the police tracking his calls) and asks him to come to Tennessee. Ford argues that he's very busy and all, but Fidds convinces him in the end.

Obviously the twins have a dual breakdown and cry their heart out. In this AU they're much less emotionally constipated lol

Ford tells Stan that he's gonna build a house in a small town in Oregon as a part of his research, and asks him to move in with him once it's finished. Stan, of course, accepts.

In the meantime, Stan stays in the McGucket farm and helps them out as a way of laying low. He has a great relationship with his family, and they're very proud of him for what he did (i believe that the McGuckets are hippies at heart, and they're VERY anti-war, especially when it already took three of them)

I don't know how much of the canon storyline would this AU follow, but it's pretty much your average Mystery Trio AU with some different backstory

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