My Musings: Headcanon: Ver: Hubby Yuto
Featuring: Pictures of You, The Rhythm Game, His Wall, The View from your Room
–He would leave pictures he’d taken that had special meaning to him in strategic places around the house. One might be of your breakfast before you ate it one morning. The next might be your hair splayed out on the pillow. Another might be the way you sit your shoes next to the door. All of the pictures remind you of an absolute truth–Yuto is always seeing you through eyes with a vision that take in every tiny detail, every nuance and he cares enough about the smallest facets of you, body, mind, spirit, and soul–and his exquisite mind is capable of capturing them in such compelling ways with one goal in mind–to ensure that he will never forget a single one of them and that you would feel his love through this simple truth.
You opened the drawer in the kitchen to get out a potholder, in order to safely pull the roast from the oven. You glance at the clock, realizing Yuto will be home in about fifteen minutes. You grabbed the oven mitt and smiled when a picture floated out from under it to land on top of the towels in the drawer.
It was a picture of your hand, it was resting on your pillow, and there were strands of your hair framing this picture. Your fingers were curled, and the highlight was the etched wedding band that rest on your finger. The colors were all soft, and fuzzy around the edges, as there was light filtered in through the white sheer curtains over the window, creating a gentle glow in the image.
You turned the picture over, as Yuto always writes notes on the images for you, sometimes it was months before you found them, but this time, the date indicated he’d written the message today. Your heart skipped a beat as you read his words, his words creating a picture that etched itself in your heart.
My love, your hands do hard things, like clean our home, pay our bills, and do your own work in addition to the work I give you. Your hands also do soft things, like run through my hair, comfort me when I am sad, and touch our animals (and one day our children!). Your hands do beautiful things, like the music you create, and the way you make a meal a masterpiece, and the way you just sit, holding a book in your hand and read. Your hands are an exquisite work of art, and I love every facet of what they do. Whether bringing me contentment, pleasure, calm, passion, happiness, or playfully hitting me when I’ve bothered you just a little too much that day (I’m sorry)–they are a gift to me that I treasure. Thank you for being mine~~Y
–He would try to teach you to play the drums. If you lack the talent, he will not stop until he has found a musical instrument you are happy playing, even if it’s something simple like a recorder. That said, if you DO have rhythm you will find yourself engaging in an ongoing competition when you are both bored–each one making a beat, adding to the rhythm as you take turns–repeating until the one of you misses a beat. The winner cooks dinner that night–or sometimes whatever the winner decides is a ‘fitting’ punishment.
–He would have this arrangement of frames in your living room, a wall that he said was “his” and you really had no idea when he would do it, but invariably, the pictures would magically change every so often. You’d never seen him remove the pictures from the wall, and you’d never seen him even take the pictures that were in the frames each time. Sometimes there were pictures of you, sometimes selfies he’d taken, sometimes scenery, landscapes, flowers, animals, you name it–but each time he’d have his own photos highlighted in the frames, and on the wall among the frames would be a small shelf, and on the shelf there would be some kind of trinket, souvenir, or something that reminded him of the theme. A seashell from the beach, a pressed flower made into a bookmark, a pine-cone from hiking, a bottle with a strand of your hair when he’d gone through his 'your hair is so soft’ phase. You still weren’t sure what he does with the pictures and trinkets after he changes the wall out.
–He would spend an extraordinary amount of time finding a home for you two to live in where the view would be satisfactory to him. It isn’t that he cares that much about location, more that he cares that much about the first thing he sees after your beautiful face each morning. He wouldn’t necessarily have a preference between city, country, mountain or ocean–but the view needs to be captivating and engaging so he starts each day off with wonderment. This is something he sees as a gift he can give you each day when you open your eyes as well, which enhances his enjoyment of it.