In which I am unable to write anything but fluffy pieces for Sophie and Howl
Howl's Moving Castle
In which a hairbrush is not just a hairbrush
Howl, Sophie
Written for comment_fic
Posted here.
Prompt: Howl's Moving Castle, Howl/Sophie, hair brushing
694 words
Howl was always peevish when he found a strand of red-gold hair on his hair brush. "Think of it as contamination," he muttered darkly in Sophie's direction as he made a painstaking effort to remove the hair, "or dilution. Just imagine, Sophie, that I took a pot of ink and dumped it into that fine soup of unimaginable stuffs that you're making, because that's an absolutely valid metaphor for the situation at hand. And while I am merely lodging an impassioned plea for understanding and compromise, you'd no doubt start hollering after me with the broom."
"Rubbish," Sophie answered unfeelingly as she added chopped onions to the bubbling soup pot, "I'd be chasing you with the wooden spoon."
"Exactly my point!" he declared while scrutinizing the bristles of the brush closely for any more offending reddish strands amongst the blond ones.
"I didn't do the hairbrush any harm, you'll notice," she replied sternly as she washed her hands and dried them on her apron, "So I don't see what the fuss is about, though it's you so I'm not the least surprised that there is fuss to be had."
"The damage isn't to the brush," Howl acknowledged sulkily, "It's to this!" And he pointed to his own head, his expression defying her to declare such a massive wrongdoing to be insignificant.
Sophie, regarding him with practiced detachment, only cocked her head to the side.
"My hair!" he wailed indignantly, grabbing a fistful of it and shaking it in Sophie's direction, "It has no shine, nor shape, the colour is dull, and there are knots, Sophie! Knots! Can't you see?! You've soaked the spell up completely into your hair and left none for me!"
Sophie whirled around to the closest mirror, half to tease Howl and half from curiosity. There was a certain sheen and extra bounce to her hair that was undeniably flattering, and as she carefully pulled at one particularly lovely curl she felt the telltale brush of magic at her fingertips. Of course the brush was bewitched with one of Howl's ubiquitous beauty spells, she should have known!
Howl, meanwhile, stared at his brush mournfully as if it were a much-beloved pet that was dying in his arms. "You never even notice the improvement when you use it and then you always go and refuse to parade around town with me afterwards so I can at least take pride in showing off what a beautiful wife I have, stubborn and fearsome as she is."
"Oh, give it here, you silly thing!" she said to Howl with a mixture of exasperation and fondness. "Now," she said firmly to the brush, "I don't see why you can't do as you're told. I know it's double the work but you're more than capable of handling it."
The brush shivered a bit in her hand. "There! Now sit still and don't squirm!" she addressed Howl.
With a meek obedience that even she rarely saw, Howl did as he was told as she ran the brush through his hair. Mindful of the fact that she might have another tantrum on her hands if she accidentally pulled any hairs out, she was careful to use only soft, even strokes and carefully untangled one unruly snarl by hand. "I'm only going to make your ego worse," she scolded herself out loud, even as she smiled, "Your hair was fine the way it was."
"Fond wife," replied Howl with a grin, tilting his face up so he could see hers, "But 'fine' simply isn't good enough! My personal presentation is a fairly accurate reflection of my mood, so it's got to be magnificent when I'm around you, Sophie."
"I told you to sit still," she said, smothering another smile as she rapped him lightly on the head with the brush, "And stop saying such ridiculous things!"
"But it's true!" he said with as injurious a tone as she had ever heard him muster, "You make me happy."
"I never would have guessed five minutes ago," was her sarcastic answer, but she squeezed his shoulder affectionately and he responded in kind by placing his hand over hers and returning the favour.
In which a hairbrush is not just a hairbrush
Howl, Sophie
Written for comment_fic
Posted here.
Prompt: Howl's Moving Castle, Howl/Sophie, hair brushing
694 words
Howl was always peevish when he found a strand of red-gold hair on his hair brush. "Think of it as contamination," he muttered darkly in Sophie's direction as he made a painstaking effort to remove the hair, "or dilution. Just imagine, Sophie, that I took a pot of ink and dumped it into that fine soup of unimaginable stuffs that you're making, because that's an absolutely valid metaphor for the situation at hand. And while I am merely lodging an impassioned plea for understanding and compromise, you'd no doubt start hollering after me with the broom."
"Rubbish," Sophie answered unfeelingly as she added chopped onions to the bubbling soup pot, "I'd be chasing you with the wooden spoon."
"Exactly my point!" he declared while scrutinizing the bristles of the brush closely for any more offending reddish strands amongst the blond ones.
"I didn't do the hairbrush any harm, you'll notice," she replied sternly as she washed her hands and dried them on her apron, "So I don't see what the fuss is about, though it's you so I'm not the least surprised that there is fuss to be had."
"The damage isn't to the brush," Howl acknowledged sulkily, "It's to this!" And he pointed to his own head, his expression defying her to declare such a massive wrongdoing to be insignificant.
Sophie, regarding him with practiced detachment, only cocked her head to the side.
"My hair!" he wailed indignantly, grabbing a fistful of it and shaking it in Sophie's direction, "It has no shine, nor shape, the colour is dull, and there are knots, Sophie! Knots! Can't you see?! You've soaked the spell up completely into your hair and left none for me!"
Sophie whirled around to the closest mirror, half to tease Howl and half from curiosity. There was a certain sheen and extra bounce to her hair that was undeniably flattering, and as she carefully pulled at one particularly lovely curl she felt the telltale brush of magic at her fingertips. Of course the brush was bewitched with one of Howl's ubiquitous beauty spells, she should have known!
Howl, meanwhile, stared at his brush mournfully as if it were a much-beloved pet that was dying in his arms. "You never even notice the improvement when you use it and then you always go and refuse to parade around town with me afterwards so I can at least take pride in showing off what a beautiful wife I have, stubborn and fearsome as she is."
"Oh, give it here, you silly thing!" she said to Howl with a mixture of exasperation and fondness. "Now," she said firmly to the brush, "I don't see why you can't do as you're told. I know it's double the work but you're more than capable of handling it."
The brush shivered a bit in her hand. "There! Now sit still and don't squirm!" she addressed Howl.
With a meek obedience that even she rarely saw, Howl did as he was told as she ran the brush through his hair. Mindful of the fact that she might have another tantrum on her hands if she accidentally pulled any hairs out, she was careful to use only soft, even strokes and carefully untangled one unruly snarl by hand. "I'm only going to make your ego worse," she scolded herself out loud, even as she smiled, "Your hair was fine the way it was."
"Fond wife," replied Howl with a grin, tilting his face up so he could see hers, "But 'fine' simply isn't good enough! My personal presentation is a fairly accurate reflection of my mood, so it's got to be magnificent when I'm around you, Sophie."
"I told you to sit still," she said, smothering another smile as she rapped him lightly on the head with the brush, "And stop saying such ridiculous things!"
"But it's true!" he said with as injurious a tone as she had ever heard him muster, "You make me happy."
"I never would have guessed five minutes ago," was her sarcastic answer, but she squeezed his shoulder affectionately and he responded in kind by placing his hand over hers and returning the favour.