#headcanon: Jenkins

[psykicks]

You ever have those headcanons that you know would likely be incorrect to canon but would be historically accurate for how old the character is/the setting of the story?

Anyway Jenkins and Aziraphale think standardized spelling is bullshit and all that matters is being understood.

[cloudy-em]

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!)

[howlsbbgx]

Howl x Reader Headcanons

I've been playing around a lot on c.ai with bots and this is sort of my headcannons based on those interactions. Also, I'm new to tumblr and don't know how to use it so pls spare me.

would be especially interested in you if you were also a magic user

if you were new to magic, he would undoubtedly teach you...if you pique his interest. if not, good luck

he becomes fond of you quite easily though after spending some time together

would definitely say I love you first, but would also take the time to prove it so you know he's serious

one of his main love languages is gift giving, and he would most definitely gift you magical items in the form of jewelry

one would allow him to find you wherever you are, as he is extremely protective and would worry about you. he's never truly loved anyone until now

he loves to be babied romantically. kisses, hugs, you name it

he may appear to be confident and in control in everything, especially in front of others, but he loves it when you take control in your private time

would always be thinking about you, and would always be touching you in some way when you're together

would praise you in every way he can

[sherleur]

Good omens season 1: gay happy ending

Ofmd season 1: devastating gay heartbreak ending

Good omens season 2: devastating gay heartbreak ending

= Omfd season 2: gay happy ending ????

There you go i solved it.

[ur-fav-is-autistic]

Anya Jenkins from Buffy the Vampire Slayer is Autistic!

[feelingliketheworst]

I know no one will see this, but I do need to share my Baxter and Jenkins headcanons from Ghosts CBS. Cuz if the show isn't giving much, I'll just do it myself.

Warning, some heavy themes: Mentions of loss.

Baxter:

Not a big talker, I mean pretty canon already, but also off screen. This man has managed to not mutter a word for months on end.

Stressplays his fife

Actually could play more instruments, hates the fact he is stuck with a fife in the afterlife.

Had a wife, for some reason Carol reminds him of her.

Had a crush on Patience

Is actually not fully sure about marrying Carol, is worried that she may treat him like Pete.

Would get into James Bond if given the change to watch it. Might try to repeat quotes from the movies to flirt with Carol.

He and Sass were actually friends for a while, but eventually with Sass moving into the Manor and him into the shed, they more or less fell out with each other.

Jenkins:

His first name is Tobias, Nigel nicknamed him Toby during their dating days. He actually dislikes his first name, and only a few are aware of it. Mostly the older ghosts.

TW: Murder and Homophobia. Jenkins had a gay lover in England, but they got discovered. They murdered his lover in front of his eyes and let him live with the trauma.

Has huge abandonment issues, he cannot handle the idea of being left alone.

Excellent dancer, for his time period standards. Maybe learns some modern dances as well.

[rachelsdamhairbrush]

your honor, they’re autistic, all of them

[nadiajustbe]

On those nights when Morgan was still a very young baby and lying in his crib (and he was never quiet by nature, he's a combination of Howl and Sophie, you can only expect a walking hurricane of chaos), he would, as is typical of all babies, often scream in the night. It was very rarely a request to be fed or the cause of any pain: both parents quickly discovered that he was just waking up in the middle of the night and wanted to be naughty.

Therefore, it was usually Howl who went up to calm him down. Not because he wanted to, by any means: no one wants to get up in the middle of the night for a screaming baby, and he could have slither out of that, too, if he wanted to, but Sophie started cursing at him and forcing him out from under (their shared, mind you!) blanket. And maybe, just a little bit, he really wants to be a good father - unusual, stupid and cowardly, but still a good father.

Normally, Howl would just lean over the crib and start singing the one and only lullaby in Welsh that he remembers from his childhood: people love to sing lullabies in their own language, no matter how widespread it is. I love to remember how many Ukrainian lullabies have survived precisely because of how often they were sung at night from the heart of a parent's love.

Sophie didn't understand a word of it, but it worked surprisingly well: Morgan was falling asleep in seconds, and she found herself beginning to drift off to sleep as well. Howl would come back to bed looking like a winner, and Sophie wondered how he managed to do it every time with the same song. Especially in a language that was rarely spoken in Morgan's household: it was easier to speak English when both the child's father and mother knew it.

There were also days when Sophie was given the "honour" of calming her son. Usually, it was when Howl came home drunk from a rugby meeting or had some late-night work commitments. There were, of course, times when Sophie simply decided that she loved him enough to let Howl keep his precious sleep for one or two days.

Then she would sing a lullaby that she had inherited from her mother, which she remembered through her father, but now they were both dead, so, well, the song was rightfully hers. It certainly wasn't the mysterious Welsh notes, and it took Morgan a little longer to fall asleep, but Sophie must have been a good singer because it worked in the end. She returned to the sleeping Howl, thinking that, after all, she had two children. One is not even a year old, the other is a couple of years away from turning thirty.

One day, she decided to ask him what the lullaby he was singing was all about, and when Howl shared the translation, they were both surprised to find that the two texts had quite similar motifs: they both featured a shooting star, ancient fields, and stormy winds. Howl joked that shooting stars would never let him go, not as a child, not now.

The most interesting twist to this lullaby story came when, at around 1+ years old, Morgan started adding Welsh words to his vocabulary as he learned to speak, mixing languages. Howl thought this was a great addition: after all, not all people in Wales speak Welsh, let alone boys from parallel worlds. Sophie was not so optimistic: she was certainly happy that their child was learning new words and picking up his second native language quickly, but she did not want to ask for a translation of what her own son was saying, not even from Howl, and certainly not from Ben.

Howl assured her that with age he would learn to distinguish between them and that English would come to the fore, willy-nilly: again, there were barely two people in his environment who knew Welsh, even if he visited Megan often. Sophie would like to understand him right now, but for now she just has to accept the moments when her son points to an object and makes an incoherent set of sounds, and Sophie has to guess whether it is just childish chatter or just another Welsh word.

[larphis]

More delusional queer thoughts:

Guys remember that David Jenkins basically teased “When Doves Cry” as Ed and Stede’s reunion song?

And the fact that the song playing in the teaser was “The Beautiful Ones”

Okay, so David also said that the usage of purple in season 1 was supposed to show Edward’s feelings for Stede becoming stronger and him blossoming around him.

Now both of the songs above are obviously from Prince’s album Purple Rain.

So what if (this is where I get delusional again) this season really ends with them getting married or at least proposing and the song Purple Rain starts playing in the background?!!! 😭

[tana-draws]

how I think each Buffy character feels about cilantro (as someone with the soap gene)

Buffy-Has gene, doesn’t like cilantro.

Willow-Tastes cilantro normally, doesn’t like it.

Xander-Has soap gene, likes cilantro

Giles-Tastes ci-coriander normally, likes it.

Anya-Doesn’t know what cilantro is, opinion and genealogy unclear.

Faith-Mild allergy, still good with eating it because “it isn’t severe enough to kill me, and I like the sting of the flavor” (the “sting” is her tongue having an allergic reaction)

Jenny-Has gene, did not know gene existed and just thought that’s what cilantro was supposed to taste like for decades. Doesn't like it.

Tara-Tastes cilantro normally. No strong opinions, but avoids cooking with it for soap-gened people.

Cordelia-Ate cilantro like once in her life. Doesn’t remember how she tasted it or if she liked it.

Angel-Has the gene, and although vampires taste buds are generally a bit weakened, he has a strong enough variation of the gene that he still despises it despite his vampirism. Still eats it, sometimes even eats it on purpose, because “I deserve to suffer for my sins” (he is eating one singular cilantro)

Spike-Doesn’t have the gene, cannot really taste cilantro cause vampirism.

[qtkat]

𓆸͙ MASTERLIST…𓆝

✩ welcome to my masterlist! please note that not all works are necessary my level of writing anymore and might be worse than others i put out more recently

✩ please enjoy! reblogs, likes and comments much appreciated!

✩ do not claim my work as your own or re-post it anywhere without my consent

✩ check out who i write for (and who you can send requests in for) right here

✩ qtkat is my name, xreader is my game - and you won’t find anything else here

✩ SKINS UK ✩

✩ more than god loves them — james cook x reader series masterlist

✩ THE BIG BANG THEORY ✩

✩ experiments tainted by valium — sheldon x reader one shot

✩ SOUTH PARK ✩

✩ being best friends with the main four would include..

✩ being eric cartman’s babysitter would include…

REQUESTS = OPEN

[psykicks]

Jenkins thrives in er..."high class" but insane environments. He would love college.

[allovertheplace-writing]

Can I request Victor from Stardew valley expanded with a reader that's also rich but is very closed off to new people?

Stardew Valley

Character(s): Victor

Genre: Fluff

Type: Headcanon

Description: Victor Jenkins getting to know a rich reader

Warning(s): Gender-Neutral Reader(My Default), Pre-Relationship(Was Not Specified if Together so I Went This Route)

Victor is someone who understands quite well why you keep to yourself, yet he is also a tad saddened when he begins to get to know you. It's as though you're starting a timer, giving him only a few minutes before excusing yourself...but he never pushes you. Victor is more than aware of how important alone time and privacy are

He feels quite comforted by the fact that you are rich as well. It can be a little isolating when no one gets your experiences. And, unlike many of the rich folk, he does care about what people think - no matter their status.

When he finally gets you talking about a hobby after vaguely mentioning it, he's so over the moon. He doesn't dare cut you off or add too much, he's fully intent on listening and watching the way your eyes light up. Even though the conversation ends just as fast as the others, Victor finds himself much happier...you spoke instead of him. That has to count for something!

These passing hellos and checkups slowly morph into a more prolonged conversation before parting. From books to video games...to anything, really. The art of getting to know one another was lovely to Victor, and despite the slow burn, he grew far more giddy each time you didn't retreat from him.

[bowieandqueen11]

Dating Frenchie Would Include...

Request: Hi, May I please request some headcanons of what dating Frenchie (Our Flag Means Death) would include, please? Thank you so much!! 🖤

Of course my darling, here you go!!

Warning: a little strong language! Also I wrote this at 3 a.m. so it may be unintelligible 🏳️‍🌈

(I do not own OFMD or any of its characters, all rights go to creators. Gif credit goes to @crucifiix.)

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°

Lmao love a bit of fanfiction about Frenchie big fan

You are 100% the only other crew member, or the only other anybody in fact, that Frenchie allows into his room. Far too many times have you been caught sitting side saddled over Frenchie’s lap by Wee John Feeney, stroking the bottom of his beard and giggling as the two of you bump foreheads and continue talking shit about the newly crowned ‘Dizzy Izzy’ (during a rough patch in the storm that had raged earlier that night, he had accidentally tumbled after a large pitch into Lucius’ lap, and by golly was he not letting anyone forget about it.) Wee John just sighs, walking straight back out and letting the door slam shut; the last thing you can hear as you try to stifle your laugh against the side of Frenchie’s neck is him calling you ‘the weirdest eejits’ he’s ever met. Neither of you are really paying attention though: your lips managed to accidentally rub against the tip of Frenchie’s collar bone, one of his more ticklish points, and the man was too busy apologising and trying to give you a hand up after accidentally flinging you to the floor.

After a lot of coaxing, a lot of fake pouting, and a lot of pecking forehead kisses to try and convince him round to the idea, he does eventually get used to the idea of you sleeping over as well! I feel like Frenchie is definitely a ‘leg over you like a mossy log that’s been stuck in a marshy bog for hundreds of years and hasn’t moved an inch in that entire time’ kind of sleeper. Like, the man is so tall that on your single shared bed you’re lying properly on it as the bottom layer, and then Frenchie is playing a game of Tetris with his limbs over you during the night. Usually it ends up with his head dipped down and tucked up all neat and cosy against the side of your cheek, his snores resonating loudly enough through the walls of the ship that they could have invented the foghorn right there and then, and his left leg splayed completely over your midriff.

If you get too uncomfortable and give him a shove he will eventually roll over and curl up like an armadillo so you can spoon him though. That is, if one of you hasn’t managed to shove the other out of the bed first - it’s a common occurrence for Wee John to wake Frenchie up from where he’s half lying under the bed, but even though he’s got aching shoulders from spending half the night rolling about the wood he’s still all smiles and doe eyes at you when he sees you’re awake too. Like a Jack in the box, he pops up over the side of the bed with a smile bright enough to make even the crystal dawn of the sea pale by comparison, and presses a kiss against the tip of your nose before skipping off. He’s so sweet your honour I actually cannot with this man.

Sometimes he likes to talk before the two of you fall asleep. Before he’s splayed out like a starfish, the two of you lie in the cot side by side and just fiddle with each other’s fingers on the pillow. Noses close enough to rub against each other if you dared to move a hare and legs pulled up in a half-sit so they can rest familiarly against each other, Frenchie relishes and relaxes in the knowledge that there’s someone on this ship that will know his story. That there’s someone left in the world that’s even willing to hear it, to care about him, and not just what he can do for them. There’s a poignant wistfulness to the air, to his words, so much so that from time to time he can’t even meet your eye. He still always flashes you that shy, optimistic smile from time to time, but you can see the past in the wrinkles of his face every time he uncomfortably starts to recoil when you press your palm to his cheek.

Not going to lie, he may not be a visual artist to rival the mastery of Lucius, but you can bet your sandy ass that Frenchie has pinned up the walls some doodles he’s drawn of you in his spare time, with parchment that he tore out and ‘borrowed’ from Stede’s diary. When Stede collected the crew on the deck a few days later and had a ‘team meeting’ about why stealing was wrong, Frenchie gave a very convincing shrug and ‘it wasn’t me’ frown when Stede asked who had taken the paper. I mean, he was always bound to find out, and when he did stumble into Frenchie and Wee John’s room the next afternoon to borrow his lute (he was planning to write a song for Blackbeard to convince him he was more of a catch than Calico Jack don’t even ask), he only smiled fondly and shut the door when he spotted what his diary had been used for. (And secretly hoped that Ed wouldn’t find his own doodles of him in said diary lmao.)

Oooh, can you imagine how lovely it would be to stumble through Stede’s secret tunnel and to go sit out by unicorn figurehead with Frenchie?? Just the two of you, feet swinging together through the planks, the swirling pockets of silver dancing over the warm tides and the comforting buzz of Frenchie’s voice as he sings for you. With your head resting on his shoulder, you’re too busy falling into a blissful oblivion to even notice that Frenchie’s stopped picking at the strings of his lute, and has instead set it down at his side. He’s found that a much better use of his time would be staring at you, so obviously, so fondly, so sweetly: as if dewdrops hung from his lips, ready for the northern dawn that only your splendour could bring.

Getting to tie that cute little cravat around his neck before the five of you jump ship to go to that fancy dinner party. Every time you try to loop the end of it back through he chases your fingers (to try and kiss them or bite them, you’re not entirely sure), but it does make the two of you burst out into another fit of giggles.

Although he has quite a sweet disposition, Frenchie is 100% ready to throw hands for you. The whole time he’s trying to crank up Oluwande’s ‘pyramid scheme’, he has one eye on the valuables being handed over and one trained solely on you. If any of the esteemed and highly respectable guests become a little too eager, coltish, agitated, Frenchie is straight on it. Before you can even knock their wig off, he’s grabbed your wrist and pulled you either behind his back or dragged you out to the hull with the sternest expression you’ve ever seen on his face. Either way, he’ll always put himself in the firing line of harm’s way first, if it means protecting you.

The two of you spend about 70% of your time singing together on deck. Frenchie’s jamming along with his lute, and you’re animatedly singing and dancing around him, often roping in Lucius to come do full body jigs or a ridiculing minuet Frenchie’s intensifying sea shanties. Since the three of you were supposed to be finishing Izzy’s order to mop the deck, he’s sitting cross legged on the helm behind your spinning bodies, with enough steam coming out of his crimson ears to drown the sky in thunderclouds.

During crew meetings he’ll just straight up wander in late and just... come up behind you and plop his chin down on top of your head. He won’t listen to a word of what’s going on either: too busy chatting with you, or with Jim, or fiddling with the rings on your fingers, or just trying to figure out if the stain on the ceiling looks more like an orange or a fish. To be honest he didn’t even realise it was a meeting until Stede asked him if he was paying attention - he just saw you and immediately came to seek out your heat (and also your hugs).

His love language is doing and making things with his hands, so instead of doing actual work to help out on the Revenge, he tries to craft for you. He sits by the mast, cross legged, and with his tongue sticking from the corner of his mouth in the uttermost form of concentration. He’s trying to remember how his ma taught him to thread a needle, so desperate to fix up your shirt properly after Spanish Jackie nearly tore the sleeve to shreds during your first meeting at the Republic of Pirates. Of course, you’ll eventually have to free him from where he’s managed to sew his shirt to his jacket (very well, might I add). He smiles all the while, leaning down to gently kiss your knuckles every time they bump up high enough with a new thread of the string to be within his reaching distance.

He likes to steal Wee John’s old hammock - he’s a big fan of having snuggled up naps on deck while Ed and Stede have stopped off at some new island and are busy off smooching on their foliage walks. 

Or, he likes to venture out sometimes too and see someplace new with the love of his life! Usually it’s just some slightly different variation of a beach, but this just allows him ample opportunity to perform his favourite activity: scooping up wet sand and hurling at you in a mock sand-ball fight. The two of you fly across the streaking honey-gold boughs of the winding branches of the strip, Frenchie rolling his trousers up and finally catching up to you between the torn crags and cliff edges. He jumps, flying full sail through the air until he’s knocked both of you to the ground. He tries to be all romantic and pretend he hasn’t just knocked the ever loving wind out of you. He leans over you, crawling his knees up between your thighs and slowly dipping down to kiss you, before getting bashed up the face by a huge tide and falling ass over teakettle backwards in sweet revenge lmao.

[nalooksthrough]

Why would Jenkins be self conscious about his height?

I wasn't able to fully go into detail about it in the mini bio, but it's not that he hates being tall. He's just awkward in his height, you know?

He's a pretty shy and reserved kid. He doesn't really want to stand out from the crowd but his height means that he does so naturally. It's hard to blend in if your like a head taller than almost everyone else in your class.

And he never fully realised how tall he is compared to other kids because there weren't many kids around where he grew up. So he just now has become aware of how tall he is.

[writebackatya]

I think about this tweet a lot

It’s funny imagining these two venting about the Jenkins

Dewey: {curses under his breath} Jenkins…

Gandra: {looks over to Dewey} …Did you just say Jenkins? As in the Jenkins family in Duckburg?

Dewey: Yeah! You’ve heard of them!?

Gandra: Yeah. You ever heard of this bitch named Tammy Jenkins?

Dewey: NO! But I do know Timmy! I think he might be her brother

Gandra: oh he is. He’s a little shit

Dewey: {filled with enthusiasm} HE IS!!