#pfh headcannons

[pfhwrittesabandoned]

something something your friends howling with laughter when you send “john mactavish — the better john” back to the table he shares with a bunch of wide shouldered sorts with a careless “sorry, i prefer my “johns” with experience” after a cursory up-and-down over his body.

those same friends staring slack-jawed when an absolute bear of a man drops heavily into the seat opposite you with a “heard you like a john with experience, s’that right, sweetheart?”

meanwhile you’re staring at the grey hair in his beard and at his temples with something approaching stars in your eyes

[pfhwrittesabandoned]

you don’t celebrate christmas with simon.

this year it’s just another slow wednesday watching dvds (no streaming services showing the top 10 suggested christmas films in the uk looming ominously on the telly), no tree, no cards or tinsel decorating the mantle of the fireplace, no big turkey dinner — just two frozen pizzas for the pair of you.

he gets quiet on the 25th of december like he does every year and you leave him be. he spends most of his day as a ghost.

but later in the evening when you’re both drowsy and you’ve finished watching the spaced box set he’ll light a candle and talk about his mum, tommy and beth and little joseph.

and you’ll cradle his face into your chest until the words run out.

and to you it’s perfect.

[pfhwrittesabandoned]

something something transmasc!reader who decides to mow the lawn topless in the privacy of his own back garden and next door neighbour!soap elbowing gaz out the way of the window to get a better look something something

[pfhwrittesabandoned]

i'm thinking about the 141 stumbling upon a naked, blood splattered civilian up on bannau brycheiniog (brecon beacons) where they're doing some manoeuvres/a training exercise and immediately falling over themselves to help.

price is barking orders, chasing off the looky-loos. johnny has pulled his coat off and is wrapping it around your shoulders. gaz has grabbed his canteen and is holding it to your lips, encouraging you to drink. they're all so helpful.

except ghost.

who is watching you with a shrewd gaze.

ghost who is immediately suspicious because you should be shivering from being exposed and from the blood loss. except he can't see a single wound on your body.

and most of the blood is smeared on your chin.

[pfhwrittesabandoned]

you’re all freaks for sheep farmer johnny huh?

something something sheep farmer johnny who’s practically part livestock guardian dog with the way he watches over his flock vs you, the poor lost hiker who accidentally walked onto his land.

sheep farmer johnny who, instead of chasing you off or helping you find your way back to the marked footpath, invites you back to his little crofter’s cottage and says he’ll give you a lift back to your car.

sheep farmer johnny who talks your ear off the entire time you’re walking alongside him but always keeps you on his right hand side.

sheep farmer johnny who has a ball of baling twine burning a hole in his pocket and is just waiting for the right moment to grab his pretty new ewe

[pfhwrittesabandoned]

something something reader being one of the few people left in the office after nearly everyone left early due to a warning for snow but you’re stuck waiting for your hapless (and soon to be ex) partner to pick you up as they’re ignoring your increasingly frantic texts and kyle garrick who has had a big ol’ crush on you from afar deciding to be your knight in shining armour something something

[pfhwrittesabandoned]

bear with me here but imagine for a moment using a hook up app and plastering all over it that you're not interested in soft, slow or gentle.

you get tons of messages from dirtbags and, while you want someone to fuck you like they hate you, you're not particularly stupid so you block the guys that seem to want to create their own personal snuff films.

you weed through the faceless profiles that message you and you run off the catfish accounts by using reverse image searches on the overly handsome pictures.

eventually there's one profile that seems to be exactly what you're looking for. the problem is... you're not exactly sure who it is you're inviting over because all of the photos are group shots.

(lucky for you, the 141 have found the perfect plaything for the evening.

after all, price has always had an eye for spotting the more durable ones for his pack of starving mutts.)

[pfhwrittesabandoned]

something something the 141 at the local gay club.

gaz and soap grinding up against each other under flashing lights, hands groping, touching, caressing, knowing that they look pornographic.

ghost perching in the shadows near the stage and guarding his favourite drag queen's vodka and cranberry with his life. ears going pink when she bats her eyelashes at him and blows him a kiss mid lip sync.

and price... price going full leather daddy. holding court at the bar in dangerously tight leather trousers and a harness. winking at every starry eyed person who lingers too long on his salt-and-pepper chest hair.