#Why Not? With Shania Twain

[corrodedcoughin]

just thinking about musician eddie who ends up doing country music under a pseudonym similar to Orville Peck. Eddie having his rock and metal band but the influence of Wayne and his upbringing doesn’t leave him. So he puts on a mask and picks up an acoustic to be this character. A character that’s closer to his real life than he lets on. A deep voiced cowboy singing about the difficulty of growing up gay but how comfortable he is with his identity.

He only ever does small gigs under this name and the audience isn’t huge. But there’s one regular that turns up to every show, he’s never stayed to talk to Eddie after and Eddie’s never been brave enough to go up to him. He knows he’d let all his secrets out under the attention of those hazel eyes and pretty boy smile.

Tonight though? Tonight he might just risk it all because the gif is over. Eddie is standing at the bar and he’s being handed a drink he definitely didn’t ask for by a man he definitely wants to know more about.

Or!!! Alternatively!!!!!

Steve as an Orville Peck style country singer. Going it to gigs and shows and getting a name for himself as the mysterious masked singer who is a proud queer cowboy. Creating a character to share his emotions and experiences. He doesn’t think it’ll come to much, just a way to let himself be heard.

Only he ends up gaining a strong following. His audiences are small but they are dedicated, understanding the idea steve has created and the importance of it. He loves this group he’s made for himself and how comfortable everyone feels at his shows. There’s often full conversations between him and the crowd, letting everyone be involved in his performances.

Steve has every intention of this being a small time thing that gets him through the long work week. What he doesn’t plan for is one of his tapes being found by corroded coffin front man eddie munson. Eddie Munson who loves a mystery, Eddie munson who might be in a big time metal band but has grown up listening to country and know Good Music when he hears it. Eddie Munson who might be Steve’s number one fan and is planning on finding out who is behind the mask

[vulpesarctica]

TIL that Shania Twain walked so Padmé Amidala could run

[whatsupspaceman]

“i like all genres but country” clearly you have not listened to a country ballad so soulful with fiddle so heartwrenching on the highway that you have a spiritually altering experience and i feel sorry for you genuinely

[attorney-anon]

“. . . [Q]uestions like “Why do you love horses so much?” didn’t quite get the job done.”

[lovevalley45]

out here just tryin to find music to listen to while i write in peace and i-

[ur-mag]

Why Shania Twain Feels Like She Is Taylor Swift’s Aunt | In Trend Today

Why Shania Twain Feels Like She Is Taylor Swift’s Aunt Read Full Text or Full Article on MAG NEWS

[canadachronicles]

So, you got the speed, but have you got the touch?

[tlcartist]

I may have shit taste in music but at least I don't listen to country

[smallboyonherbike]

random music thought of the day: in country music it's often basically been a requirement to either exaggerate or completely fake a southern accent (which not even everyone born and raised in the south always has) while singing, but then a lot of singers will surprise me as Secret British ppl bc when you're not really trying or singing in your second language or talk singing most ppls accents kinda flatten out when they sing bc to sing well you've gotta really emphasize vowels in a difft way than speaking. idk it's Interesting

[sound-of-scoups]

Twice Upon a Christmas Trap | CSC | Teaser

Pairing: Choi Seungcheol x Female!Reader Genre|tags: Oneshot, second-chance love, marriage in trouble, exes to lovers, divorce au, fluff, comedy, drama, angst, smut.   Word count: TBA.  Rating: Explicit adult content (MINORS DNI). A/N: 1. Finally announcing what has been keeping me busy these past days, leaving me no time to edit the chapters of MTAF 🙈 I’m really excited about this story, so I hope you’ll love it as much as I do! 2. Obviously heavily inspired by the movie The Parent Trap (1998); 3. I know that South Korea's laws are shit when it comes to divorce and women's rights. That's why, even though it won't be deeply explored in the story, I'm using brazilian laws and my knowledge as a lawyer for their "divorce." Warnings: Mentions of divorce (it’s the plot), marital problems, arguments, bickering, silly fights (they literally argue like an old married couple), mentions of teenage pregnancy, seungcheol is kind of blind (but he’s going to redeem himself, promise), crybaby!cheol (because god made men and then sent their tears as an apology), jealous!cheol, jealousy in general, miscommunication, stubborn love, explicit language, graphic sexual content.  Release date: Coming soon... 🎧 Now listening to: ‘tis the damn season - taylor swift; christmas (baby please come home) - mariah carey; you’re losing me - taylor swift; chasing pavements - adele; 첫 눈 (the first snow) - exo; i miss you, i'm sorry - gracie abrams; the winner takes it all - jae hall; nobody gets me - sza; for us - v; don’t wanna cry - seventeen; christmas tree - v; kiss me - ed sheeran; imperfect love - seventeen; h.o.l.y - florida georgia line; this love - taylor swift; you're still the one - shania twain; christmas tree farm - taylor swift.

Summary: You and Seungcheol are the perfect couple: best friends, madly in love and married. Or, at least you used to be. After eleven years together, you are now navigating through a bitter divorce following six months of separation. Married at the young age of 19 due to an unexpected pregnancy, your relationship was built on passion and youthful dreams that crumbled under the pressures of adulthood and married life. With custody of your twin daughters at stake, and the sale of your beloved Christmas home getting closer, your family is at a crossroads during what is supposed to be the happiest time of year. The twins, however, unwilling to let their family traditions dissolve, devise a plan to rekindle their parents' love by orchestrating a heartfelt final perfect Christmas in the house.

★ JOIN THE TAGLIST HERE! ★ MOODBOARD

“Seemed like Kim Taehyung was enjoying himself a little too much tonight,” Seungcheol said, breaking the silence. His eyes stayed fixed on the road, his tone aiming for nonchalance, though the sharp edge betrayed him.

You glanced at him, your eyebrows arching in confusion. “Taehyung? He was just being friendly. That’s his nature.”

“Friendly?” 

Seungcheol straightened on the driver’s seat, his hands tightening on the steering wheel, veins prominent as they bulged.

The soft nightlight cast a gentle glow on his face, accentuating the perfect features that seemed to be carved with meticulous care. His sharp jawline, the curve of his lips, the long lashes that rested against his cheek—it was unfair how effortlessly beautiful he looked, even when his expression was marred by frustration.

No one could look as handsome as he did, even when he was angry.

The way his brows furrowed in thought, the slight twitch of his lips as if he was holding back words he wasn’t ready to say—it all drew you in, even when you wanted to be mad at him. There was a rawness in his expression, a vulnerability that flickered beneath the surface of his frustration, and it tugged at something deep within you.

You swallowed hard, your throat tightening. 

Why couldn’t he stop being so damn attractive, just for a second?

“He practically camped out by your side all evening. Offering to get you drinks, giving you those looks—”

“Looks?” you interrupted, your voice sharper and more defensive than you intended. “You’re imagining things, Seungcheol.”

“Am I?” His eyes flicked toward you, narrowing. “Because from where I was standing, he couldn’t stop smiling at you.”

“Well, he does have a beautiful smile,” you said with a casual shrug.

Seungcheol’s glare sharpened. “Is that supposed to be funny? Am I supposed to be laughing?”

You tilted your head, feigning innocence. “I don’t know, you thought ‘see you friday’ was funny."

His jaw tightened as his hands gripped the steering wheel harder, his knuckles whitening. “He had a crush on you in high school, you know that, right?”

You let out a short laugh, shaking your head. “That was ten years ago. Taehyung was being polite, Seungcheol. Maybe you’ve forgotten what that looks like.”

“I know what politeness looks like. And I know when a guy’s flirting with my—” 

He stopped abruptly, the unfinished sentence hanging awkwardly in the air. 

You turned to face him fully, searching his profile as his jaw tightened further, the muscle twitching with the effort to hold back whatever was on his mind.

“Your what?” you asked, challenging, your voice quieter, but no less intense.

[ruthbaderjaneway]

My jukebox brain sees this and thinks of Shania Twain's "Any Man of Mine"-

"And when I cook him dinner and I burn it black/He better say, mm, I like it like that, yeah!"

[ellecdc]

Elle I saw the new requests and immediately got soooooo excited I check tumblr like 5 times a day just to read what you write lol. Anyways can I request from ☃️ baby it’s cold outside

“Just for once why don’t you wear some thing of mine” with Barty x potter reader where Barty always love to see her in his clothes so she gives him a shirt of hers but because he’s so tall it’s more like a crop top but he actually likes it lol?

hahaha soooo cute! thanks for the prompt <3

the winter games

Barty Crouch Jr x fem!reader who convinced him to wear her clothes for once [470 words]

CW: talk about patriarchy, misogyny, gender norms, Shania Twain

“It’s cold out, Treasure.” Barty said absently; not breaking his gaze from the mirror as he fixed his hair, though he no doubt saw you appear in the reflection. “Why don’t you put on my flannel?”

You let out a petulant moan. “It won’t go with my outfit, Barty.”

He offered you a sympathetic pout in turn. “But you always look so cute wearing my clothes.”

“That’s really what this was about, wasn’t it?” You teased. “I bet it’s not even that cold outside.”

“It’s a little cold.”

“The party is inside, Barty.” You chided. 

“What if someone forgets we’re together? Hm? Then they see this beautiful little minx and make a move on you. Actually, Treasure, that would be a great injustice to all the unsuspecting blokes; you ought to warn them you have a boyfriend who’s sort of crazy.” 

He seemed pleased by the cackle that elicited from you. “What about me!?”

“How do you mean?” He asked simply.

“Well? You never wear my clothes! Just for once, why don’t you wear something of mine?”

Barty was quiet for a moment as he considered you. “You know what? You’re entirely right. Wow, how’s that for the fucking patriarchy, huh? Well, no time like the present, I suppose.” 

Barty continued mumbling to himself about internalised misogyny and disassembling the patriarchy and gender norms as he sifted through the wardrobe. 

You perched on the edge of the bed as he searched, smiling at the excited “aha!” before Barty emerged victorious. 

Standing in the middle of your bedroom was your boyfriend - who has a longer torso than you do, mind you - donned in one of your favourite cropped pullover jumpers with Shania Twain’s famous line “let’s go girls” embroidered in cursive. 

“Treasure.” Barty breathed out as he looked at himself in the mirror. “Oh my god.”

“What?” You laughed as you came to stand behind him; both your profiles in the mirror as he regarded himself.

“Is this what people mean when they say someone has a slutty man waist?”

You were so caught off guard by the laugh that bubbled out of you that you nearly choked on it. 

“Yes, Barty; I think this is what constitutes a slutty man waist.”

“And you’ve been hiding your cropped tops from me all this time.” He shook his head in disbelief. “For shame, Treasure.”

“Barty!”

“We’re almost late, babes!” He interrupted, turning you away from the mirror and shuffling you out of the room and towards the door. “Best get on the road, show everyone what they’ve been missing!”

His waist, you’re sure, is what everyone’s been missing.

“It’s cold out, Bee.” You offered solemnly. “Why don’t you put on a flannel?” 

You giggled the whole way to the party at the way he scowled and accused you of ruining his aesthetic.

[fluentmoviequoter]

Walk Dates

Requested Here!

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!reader (+ Kojo and r's service dog)

Summary: You and your service dog meet Tim and Kojo during a walk. The dogs force you and Tim to keep meeting, but neither of you mind. When you're late for a walk because of an emergency, Tim decides he would like to be more than walk-buddies.

Warnings: r has a service dog for unspecified reasons, r passes out and goes to the hospital, mostly fluff! unplanned Shania Twain reference

Word Count: 2.8k+ words

Masterlist | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

“Match my shoes or complement?” you ask your dog.

She barks once and raises her left paw to point to the grey booties you’re holding. You nod and put the other pair away before kneeling before her. She raises one foot at a time so you can put her shoes on to protect her paws from the concrete outside. Your doctor told you going on walks could be beneficial for your mental and physical health, and your service dog seems to enjoy them just as much as you do.

“Ready to walk?” you ask as you stand.

Rather than barking to answer, she runs to the end cabinet in your kitchen and sits. Her leash and your small medical bag are inside, and you shake your head in amusement. Once your bag is on your back and her leash is clipped to her harness, you exit the back door and lock it behind you.

“Let’s go, girl.”

Tim sighs as he shifts his truck into park. His shift was hectic, but he knows Kojo has been trapped inside and would like a walk. The weather is nice today, so it would do Tim some good to get outside too, he thinks.

As Tim suspected, Kojo is bouncing excitedly and full of energy when he enters. Kojo runs to the shelf holding his harness and leash, then back to Tim. “I know, I know. Let’s do it, buddy,” Tim tells Kojo.

They leave a few minutes later, and Tim takes a deep breath as Kojo leads the way. The neighborhood isn’t busy this time of day, so Tim can relax a bit and follow Kojo rather than dictate where they go while actively looking for any threats.

Your service dog stops when another dog barks happily. You look away from the butterfly you were watching and smile when you see a man walking a dog. His dog seems interested in meeting your dog, and you click your tongue to signal her to keep walking.

“Kojo, no,” the man says, pulling the leash tight to his side.

“Hello,” you greet kindly.

“Hi,” the man replies, dipping his head in greeting. “Kojo.”

“Beautiful dog,” you add.

“He thinks that means he can do whatever he wants. Sorry, he likes meeting other dogs.”

“He’s fine,” you promise.

“She’s working, Kojo,” he whispers harshly.

“He can come over,” you offer. “She’s sweet, and she can multitask.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

The man loosens his grip on the leash and steps toward you. Your dog wags her tail quickly, slapping your leg every time she does. She sits, and Kojo flops down as they introduce themselves as dogs do.

You extend your right hand and tell the man your name and your dog’s name.

“I’m Tim, and that’s Kojo,” he replies. “We usually have more manners.”

Your dog steps over Kojo’s back legs to stand over him, and you chuckle as you say, “We don’t.”

“I haven’t seen you over here before.”

“Our walk times differ daily,” you explain. “I should start coming out now, though, because there’s no one else.”

“That’s why we love it.”

Your dog stands quickly and presses her nose into your thigh. Time to go home. “That’s my cue,” you tell Tim. “Maybe we’ll see you and Kojo on another walk soon.”

“That’d be nice. Enjoy the rest of your day,” Tim agrees. You smile as your dog leads you back the way you came. Tim is nice, his dog is adorable, and they exude comfort. You truly wouldn’t mind running into him again, you decide.

As you leave, Tim watches you go, and Kojo does too. Kojo looks up at Tim and pants happily.

“Good boy, Kojo,” Tim compliments. “But we need to talk about your manners. Service dogs can’t always hang out, bud.”

Kojo tilts his head as his ears perk, and Tim shrugs. He doesn’t know why you have a service dog, but it doesn’t matter. You do.

“We’re both going to be thinking about them for a while aren’t we?”

Kojo barks in return, and Tim sighs. There are worse things to think of.

Tim falls asleep thinking of you and wakes with a smile on his face. Kojo jumps onto his bed with his leash in his mouth, and Tim assumes he’s thinking about you and your dog, too. When Angela and Lucy started joking that Tim and Kojo were exactly the same, just different species, he didn’t expect to prove them right so easily.

“Fine, fine,” Tim concedes when Kojo moves to stand on his chest. “A quick walk before work. They won’t be there, though.”

Tim shakes his head as Kojo leads him to the same stretch of sidewalk where they met you last night. You’re nowhere to be seen, as expected, but Kojo keeps walking.

“Good morning, Kojo.”

Tim looks up quickly when he hears your voice, and your smile is stronger than any coffee he’s ever tried. He returns your smile and steps closer. Kojo greets your dog happily, and they step into the grass-covered yard beside you.

“Good morning to you, too, Tim,” you add.

“Good morning. Didn’t expect to see you so soon.”

“This one couldn’t stop thinking about Kojo,” you explain, pointing to your dog. “And my doctor wants me to walk more, so win-win.”

“They’re best friends now, aren’t they?” Tim asks.

You turn at the same time as him, and your arm presses against his as you watch your dogs play together.

“They certainly are. Do you think they’ll keep waking us up to see each other?”

“Kojo will.”

“She will, too.”

“Well, I have to get to work, but it was great seeing you. Kojo appreciates your early morning walk.”

“What do you do?” You scrunch your nose and add, “Sorry, if that’s too personal you don’t have to answer.”

“Not at all,” Tim assures. “I’m a cop.”

“I knew it,” you reply.

“What about you?”

You give him a quick overview of what you do but leave out the part where sometimes your dog won’t let you. She does her job a bit too well sometimes and she’s already pulled you away from Tim once.

“Have a good day at work, Tim,” you say. “See you around.”

“You, too.”

Over the next week, you and Tim meet on walks once or twice a day. Your dog seems attuned to Kojo’s schedule and leads you to Tim every time you go for a walk. Within a week, you and Tim decide to walk together rather than stand in one place and interrupt your walks.

“I- this may be too forward,” Tim begins as you walk beside him.

“May not be,” you counter.

“Would you want to exchange numbers? It could be easier to let these two partners in crime meet up if we can talk before,” he suggests.

“Don’t call them partners in crime! Then you’d have to arrest them.”

“I’m sure they’d get off with a warning.”

“Tim!” You chuckle before agreeing to exchange numbers.

When your fingers brush Tim’s as you hand him your phone, you suddenly understand why your dog wants to see him and Kojo every day. You could get used to life at his side.

“I tried to leave last night to run to the store, but Kojo wouldn’t let me pass his leash,” Tim tells you as he returns your phone. “Had to take him for a walk before I could go get dinner.”

“Is he that convincing?” you inquire.

“He’s that bossy.”

“I wonder if he gets it from you,” you muse playfully.

“His former owner. Friend of mine from work, so I can blame that on her.”

“But all of his good traits are from you?” you guess.

Tim shrugs with a smile, and you bump your shoulder against his. These walks are doing you more good than your doctor anticipated. Your dog hasn’t alerted you to any health-related threats in days, which you attribute directly to walking with Tim and Kojo.

“Tim…” could we be more than neighbors who walk their dogs together?

Tim says your name, matching your tone as you return to your starting place.

“I just wanted to ask if we could meet again tonight. For another walk, to wear them out before bed?” you suggest, rather than saying what you want to.

“Text me the time.”

You nod and return home with a smile on your face. Though you have plenty you could do, you waste most of the day staring at the clock and looking forward to meeting Tim and Kojo again.

The leash hangs limply from your hand after you retrieve it from the cabinet. Your health took a sudden dip about an hour ago, but you’re trying to stay strong enough for the walk. Paws thud on the floor behind you, and when she presses her snout firmly into your thigh, you lower your hand toward her head.

“I know,” you mumble weakly. “I know, girl. But we can walk, right?”

She barks before she tugs on your shirt with her teeth. You shake your head, and she wraps a paw around your calf. Despite your need to see Tim, you know she’s right, and you carefully lower to the floor. As soon as you sit, your dog licks your cheek and presses her nose to your chest, but her whines are muffled as your eyes flutter closed.

Tim has never been more excited to walk Kojo than he is today. He had a rough day at work, so he doesn’t hesitate to take Kojo out as soon as he arrives home. They get to your meeting spot early and wait. As your suggested time comes and goes, Kojo gets antsy. Tim pulls his phone from his pocket, but he doesn’t have any messages from you. He sends you one, but it goes unread until he turns the screen off.

Kojo starts pulling on his leash a few minutes later. His nose is lowered to the ground, so Tim gives him some slack in his leash. Kojo walks through your usual route but passes the place where you and Tim part ways. He stops in front of a house several blocks from Tim’s and looks at the yard before he leads Tim to the door.

“What are you doing, Kojo?” Tim asks.

A dog barks inside, and as the barking continues, growing louder as the dog nears the door, Tim recognizes the sound of the bark. It’s your dog. She scratches against the door and whines, and Tim realizes that if you’re late and your service dog is upset in your house, something happened to you.

He leads Kojo off the porch and calls for an ambulance as he rounds the house. The side door is unlocked, and as Kojo steps inside, Tim sees your hand against the floor, with a leash beside it. Tim pushes the door open quickly and barely manages to catch it before it breaks the window behind it. Tim drops Kojo’s leash, and Kojo lies beside your legs to provide comfort to you and himself. Tim has known for over a week that Kojo loves you but seeing you like this makes Tim question how he feels about you.

Tim says your name but gets no answer. “Hey, girl,” he tells your dog instead. “What do I need to do? Show me.”

She presses her nose against your pulse point, and Tim follows suit on the other side. Your heart rate is elevated, and your slumped position is likely making it hard to breathe. Tim gently moves you into a more comfortable position as Kojo moves with you.

Your dog moves away from you and pulls a cabinet open before dragging a small backpack to Tim. He unzips it and sees medication, water with minerals and electrolytes, and a small booklet with instructions on what to do in case something like this happens.

Tim lays the book open and begins working through the recommended actions. In his mind, he pleads with you – begs you – to come back to him. He can hear the sirens on the ambulance approaching when you finally blink your eyes open.

“Tim?” you ask softly. “What are you doing here?”

“You didn’t meet us on the walk,” he answers. “Kojo got worried.”

“Just Kojo?” you ask knowingly, brushing a thumb over the crease between Tim’s eyebrows.

“Ambulance is here,” Tim tells you. “You’re gonna be okay.”

You see your bag beside him and whisper to thank him. “Sorry, I missed our walk.”

“You’ll have to make it up to me when you feel better,” he replies.

His hand slips into yours as you and your dog are taken to the ambulance. He asks the EMTs which hospital they’re taking you to before he kisses your temple and heads back into your house to clean up the mess he made. The deep scratches on your front door will have to wait, but he was nearly as upset as your dog when he got inside. Kojo whines at the door with his leash dragging behind him, but Tim says, “We have to wait. She’ll call when she’s ready.”

The moment you get discharged, you call Tim. He agrees to pick you up before you even ask, and he and Kojo are waiting for you in the lobby when you’re pushed out of the elevator in a wheelchair.

“You can still walk, right?” Tim checks.

“Yes,” you promise. “And I’ll need lots of walks to feel better.”

Tim frowns, and you rush to tell him that you’re teasing. You feel much better, thanks to him, and the doctors said he helped you properly and with plenty of time to spare.

“They think I should keep you around,” you add quietly.

“Kojo would happily become your second service dog,” Tim replies.

“Thank you, Tim,” you say as he helps you into his truck. “For everything.”

He nods once before closing the door, and you sit back to watch Kojo get comfortable beside your dog in the backseat. He would look cute in a service vest and booties.

After a few days of hourly check-in messages from Tim, you feel as good as new. You text Tim as you leave your house, and inhale deeply as you enjoy your first walk since your impromptu hospital visit. Your doctor scolded you for even trying to leave when you knew that you needed to act, but when she heard you talking to Tim, she understood why you put someone else before yourself. You’re not supposed to do that again, though, doctor’s orders.

“Hey,” Tim greets when you turn a corner.

“Hi,” you reply. “Care to join us for a walk?”

“We’d love to.”

As you walk side-by-side with Tim, you allow your arm to press against his and your hands to brush as you move along the sidewalk. You talk to Tim about his day, he asks about yours, and along the way, you lose track of time. When you notice the sun dipping below the horizon, you realize that it’s time to get home.

“I needed this, Tim. Thank you,” you tell him as your turn to return home.

“Let me walk you home,” he offers. “Kojo and I can’t let two lovely ladies walk home alone in the dark.”

“Well, thank you.” After a few steps, you remember that you never told Tim where you live. “How did you find me?” you ask.

“I didn’t. Kojo did. He’s obsessed with you.”

“The feeling is mutual, Kojo,” you tell him.

His tail wags faster at your attention, and you chuckle as Tim shakes his head. It seems like you reach your house much faster than usual, and it’s time to say goodbye to Tim and Kojo again.

“Would you like to go on a date?” Tim asks quickly as you stop by your door. “With the dogs?”

You open your mouth to reply, but Tim continues talking before you can.

“These walks are nice, but I’d like to try something more… if you’re willing,” he finishes.

You smile as you open your door. Leaning against it to keep it open, you say, “I’m willing. As long as the dogs are there.”

“Like they’d let us meet without them,” Tim scoffs.

“I’ll try not to have a medical emergency this time.”

“I’ll pick you up Friday night, around the same time as our walk?” Tim suggests.

“Sounds perfect. Goodnight, Tim, Kojo.”

“Goodnight,” Tim replies. As he turns to lead Kojo home, he says, “Say goodnight to our girls, Kojo.”

Our girls. You smile long after Tim leaves. If the walks impacted you this much, dating Tim will make spending time away from him and Kojo infinitely harder.

You text Tim before you fall asleep, looking forward to your first real date.

What happened to letting service dogs work?

Just before you drift off, you read Tim’s reply and your smile grows.

We’re her number 1 helpers. Besides, someone had to encourage you to take those walks your doc recommended.

A picture of Tim and Kojo accompanies the message, and suddenly, Friday seems an eternity away. You’ll just have to take as many walks as possible between now and then.

[dreamwatch]

Ramblin' Gamblin' Man

Written for @corrodedcoffinfest

Day #20 - Prompt: Under The Covers | Word Count: 979 | Rating: M | CW: period typical homophobia (alluded to) | POV: Steve | Pairing: Steddie | Tags: secret relationship, sharp suits, Steve Harrington is stupid for Eddie Munson, Fluff but make it lustful

Steve’s at the Grammys. Holy Shit.

It’s not the first time Eddie’s been here, but it’s the first time he’s brought Steve. He walked the red carpet alone last time, the rest of the band ahead of him with their wives and girlfriends, Eddie playing up the bachelor angle. Steve watched from their home. 

Tonight they’re ’best friends if anyone asks’, which Eddie thinks is unlikely because there are some big names here and like, who the fuck are they in the scheme of things?

They’re not nominated for anything; Eddie said they’d been asked to play a cover of Ramblin’ Gamblin Man and both Wayne and Steve’s dad are big Bob Seger fans so the band said yes. See, its little things like that that make him want to climb inside Eddie and never come out. Any other act is thinking about the prestige, Eddie’s thinking about whether his family would like it.

He loves this man so fucking much.

The band are sitting about ten rows back; he’s got a clear view of Sheryl Crow from his seat, and he’s pretty sure that’s the back of Whitney Houston’s head over to his left.

His new phone is buzzing in his pocket. Robin is obsessed with sending him messages. Tonight so far:

‘Is Stevie Nicks there?’

‘If she is please tell me she’s hot.’

‘Shit I think I just saw you!’

‘Is that Sheryl Crow in front of you?’

He deletes them to make space for new messages, hopefully something about how their friends are at the goddamn Grammys and not whether Shania Twain has a nice ass. (She does, he looked.)

Eddie taps his arm. “Okay, we have to go get changed.”

“Huh? Why?”

They’re wearing their ‘Corroded Coffin smart attire’, essentially their usual clothes minus the rips. They’re not exactly scruffy, per se, but… Steve’s in a suit here, you know? (The suit is borrowed, but it’s all about the effort.)

Eddie grins at him. “You didn’t think I was performing at the Grammys in this, did you?” He pulls at the long sleeve tee he’s wearing under his new leather jacket. 

“I mean, yeah, I kind of did.”

Eddie tsks. “For shame, Steve.” He leans in, achingly close, his breath tickling Steve’s neck. “Wish me luck.”

Just for a second Steve thinks about kissing him. Fuck everyone else, fuck the fans, the industry, he just wants to kiss his man publicly. But he doesn’t. Instead he shifts so his lips are practically touching the shell of Eddie’s ear.

“Good luck,” he whispers. 

Eddie shivers. Steve laughs.

The boys all leave, and now it’s Steve and The Wives.

Thirty minutes later the sound of a trashy high-hat fills the auditorium, lights flashing in time to the thu-thu thump bass drum pattern. Despite Jeff being their lead vocalist it’s Eddie, with his raspier, bluesier voice, that’s taking the lead tonight, and doesn’t that just make Steve’s heart fucking cry out with pride? And you know, Eddie, his Eddie, singing at a nationally televised event should be the thing he’s concentrating on, and it is! It is. But when the lights go up the first thing he actually notices is—

“Holy shit, they’re wearing suits!” 

Bonnie says it before anyone else gets a chance. He imagines the four of them are a picture right now, side by side, eyes on stalks because their men are all on stage at the Grammy’s wearing blacks suits, crisp white shirts and… fucking sunglasses. 

Look, he’s seen Eddie in a suit. It was a nice suit, but he looked about as comfortable as a priest in a lingerie store. This is not that.

These are sharp tailored suits, fitted to perfection. Eddie has too many buttons undone on the shirt, some of his chest exposed, that old Fender guitar pick necklace replaced with a solid silver copy (the original with Wayne). The stage lights hit his mirrored Ray Bans, the chain, the rings. But Steve can’t take his eyes off that fucking suit.

He’s going to devour him.

Eddie’s not a frontman, says he loves being able to just do his thing and let Jeff take care of the crowd. But he has a feeling things might change after tonight. 

The audience are on their feet, and Steve grabs the girls so they can head down to the backstage area. They have passes but even then he has to pull the ‘pregnant ladies coming through’ card to get them back to the green room. And when they get in there--

They’re still dressed in those fucking suits.

Eddie spins toward him. “Hey! What did you—“

Steve doesn’t give him a chance to finish the sentence, he has his hands on Eddie’s face and he’s dragging him in for a long, deep kiss, Eddie’s eyes wide and cross eyed.

When he finally comes up for air he realises Jeff, Gareth and Matt are all getting much the same treatment from their wives.

“You’re never taking this off, understand?” Steve says breathlessly. “Never.”

“What… the suit?”

“Duh, the suit, yes the suit. You’re never taking it off. I don’t care what you’re doing, mowing the lawn, taking the trash out, washing the car, don’t care. This,” he says gently pulling at a very expensive lapel, “is never leaving your body.” He goes in for another kiss. “God the things I’m going to do to you tonight.”

“In the suit?”

“Fuck yes, in the suit! Told you, you’re never taking this off.”

Eddie’s grin is slow and mischievous. “This is really doing it for you, huh?”

“You have no idea.”

It’s doing it for everyone. There are three respectable married ladies here, mothers no less, acting like groupies at an Aerosmith gig. 

Steve squeezes his hips. “Let’s go.”

“Sunglasses: on or off?”

Steve wants to sink his teeth into him right here.

“On. Definitely on.”

The song:

The inspiration:

[rach067]

Forever and For Always - Leah Williamson.

Warnings: suggestive, brief mentions of sex. Fluff overall.

Autumn evenings with Leah.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

In your arms

I can still feel the way you want me when you hold me

I can still hear the words you whispered when you told me

I can stay right here forever in your arms

It was an autumn evening and Leah came home after practice. You worked from home today so that gave you plenty of time to prepare dinner before she arrived. You were humming the song that was playing over the speaker when the blonde opened the door. She heard the music and headed to the kitchen where you were singing “Always and Forever” by her favourite Shania Twain. She smiled in awe of the sight in front of her. She kept falling in love with you after 5 years of relationship. 

And there ain't no way

I'm letting you go now

And there ain't no way

And there ain't no how

I'll never see that day

She started to remember the first time she saw you, at a game at Meadow Park. You worked at Arsenal Media Department, but you were more behind the scenes, that’s why she didn’t know you until that day because you were taking the place of a coworker of yours. With your camera around, you started taking pictures to players and fans, when she caught you taking a picture of her. When you took the camera out of your face and you locked eyes, she felt as if the world stopped right then. Little did she know you felt the same way. The smile you both had was evident to everyone but yourselves, Viv still teasing both of you about it to this day. She thought you were beautiful, but when she began to know you and found out you were really funny and a bit introverted, with a huge intelligence, she fell in love deeper than she could even think about. She remembered the first date, and how you both couldn’t hold back your giddy smiles, and then the second date, at Finsbury Park, a picnic you organised so thoughtfully because you lowkey knew about her pickiness when it comes to food (but of course you didn’t tell her until the end of the day). And after that day, the fourth came, and the fifth, the sixth and many more dates, then a four-day sleepovers… Let’s just say you couldn’t stop seeing each other, you couldn’t get enough of each other.

One day, you drove together to London Colney and Beth caught you both. She didn’t stop teasing the blonde until the end of the day.

While admiring you singing, she thought about the moment she told the girls. She was nervous but really excited. Everyone was so happy for her and Viv told everyone the first interaction you had, everyone pouting at the cuteness, Leah on the other hand blushing really hard. When she told her family, Amanda explained how she saw her happier recently, how at peace she seemed, which Leah agreed.

Coming back to reality, she left the backpack on the floor and slowly approaching you, she wrapped her arms around you. You startled a little bit, but you knew she was her, the perfume impregnated the room. You melted at her embrace and touch, unable to function whenever she was near. After all these years, you still blushed and relaxed whenever she was around. She calmed you down. You smiled at her, even though she couldn’t see your face.

'Cause I'm keeping you forever and for always

We will be together all of our days

Wanna wake up every morning to your sweet face

Always

Mmm, baby

She sang into your ear, delicately, leaving kisses on your cheek and neck. She held you tighter, as if she didn’t want to let you go. She didn’t want to let you go, and you didn’t want to let go. You were hers. She was yours. For as long as you both decided.

Turning off the kitchen, you turned around and face her. You smiled like an idiot and held her face, touching her smiling lips as well.

"Hi… "- You said whispering.

"Hey… "- She murmured, holding you even tighter. You didn’t think it was possible to hold you that tight, considering you were not small.

"You know, I appreciate your effort, but I really want to breathe." - You said chuckling.

"And you are, what makes you think otherwise?" - She asked nonchalantly.

"The way you’re holding me, for example."

"I just want to have you close, that’s all. Coming home to that sight was enough to never want to let you go."

"Cheeky…" - you blushed hard.

"You love it."

"That I do."

With that, you closed the small gap and kissed her. “Finally” you both thought in unison. The kiss was slow, delicate, as if you were afraid of breaking her. You smiled at the kiss, and Leah took that as a sign and she put you on the counter.

"That’s better." - She smirked caressing your thick thighs. 

She was still gentle with you, she didn’t want to ruin the mood, but really happy to kiss you and have this moment with you. Today was a rough day and she wanted nothing more than to have dinner and cuddle with you until you both drifted off to sleep. The way she was touching you was something you never experienced before, and you began to think how did you spend too much time without it. Se was gentle, good. She loved you with every fibre of her soul, and she reminded you that every single day. 

When you were in need for air, you separated from each other slowly, locked eyes and smiled. The same way you did when you both first met.

In your heart

I can still hear a beat for every time you kiss me

And when we're apart, I know how much you miss me

I can feel your love for me in your heart

"I missed you today…" - The blonde defender confessed under her breath. She was never afraid to express her feelings to you, but she would be shy sometimes. Something only happened with you, and you felt lucky and happy to see this side of her.

"You saw me this morning, darling." - You said caressing her face.

"Yes, but… you didn't come with me to work and I couldn’t sneak in your office." - She answered with a pout. You couldn’t resist and kissed her pout slowly.

"Oh, baby… That needy still?" - You asked cheekily.

"Of course, what kind of question is that?" - she scoffed as if it was the most normal in the world.

It was, at least for her. She wasn’t afraid to shown PDA in front of friends and family. You were more discreet but she knew how much of a touchy person you were. You are happy she confided this to you.

"I missed you too, you can’t imagine… That’s why I’m going to show you." - You said pecking her lips one last time and turning around to prepare the meal.

"Oh, honey, I appreciate it but I’m not in the mood today, training was tough." - she said sadly, thinking you were talking about sex, because both of you loved night sex before bed, but today she was so tired.

"So you don’t want to taste the sweet meal I prepared for you? I can save for tomorrow." - You said smirking, knowing she couldn’t say no to the dinner you cooked today. 

"Oh, you’re talking about food…"

"Yes, babe, I wanted to do this for a while anyway, but a little bird told me that today was tiring so enough reason to do it, just go to our room and put the clothes I left on the bed, then come here and wait. We’ll have time for that tomorrow if you’re up to, since is your free day…" - you chuckled and explained to her, smiling.

"My girl, you’re the best." - She kissed your cheek and headed to your shared bedroom.

And there ain't no way (And there ain't no way)

I'm letting you go now

And there ain't no way (And there ain't no way)

And there ain't no how

I'll never see that day

'Cause I'm keeping you forever and for always

We will be together all of our days

Wanna wake up every morning to your sweet face

Always

You were too engrossed plating the dish you didn’t notice Leah standing in the kitchen island admiring you. Her hand was holding her head and she was smiling so hard. You looked up to her and smiled back at her.

"You alright babe?" - You asked curiously.

"Yeah, more than fine." - She replied still smiling.

"Perfect. There you go." - You said handing her the plate.

"Thank you, baby."

"Anytime." - You answered.

In your eyes (I can still see the look of the one)

I can still see the look of the one who really loves me

(I can still feel the way that you want)

The one who wouldn't put anything else in the world above me

(I can still see love for me) I can still see love for me in your eyes

(I still see the love)

You both stayed silent during dinner, but you couldn’t stop stealing glances at each other. When you were finished, Leah took the plates and washed them.

It was 7:30pm so you started to wind down, preparing yourselves to sleep.

Cuddling in bed you were reading a book while Leah was daydreaming about the life she wanted to build with you. For quite some time she started to think about all the ways she wanted to proposed to you, but she couldn’t find the best option. Every idea she had would be of your liking, because she knew you and she knew you would love every one of them, but she wanted it to be perfect. It was you we were talking about. The love of her life, her best friend, her lover. The girl she liked for a year but was afraid to tell her until that said girl, you, implied it and confessed her feelings so that it was easier for her. She never got shy when it came to shared her feelings for anyone else, but with you, she felt incredibly nervous she didn’t want to jeopardise what was going on between you two, friendship, situationship… She cared for you too much she didn’t want to lose you, she didn’t want to risk it. It took her a lot of courage, the complaints of her friends and your own encouragement (so difficult for you but worth it in the end) to finally ask you out, because deep down you knew she wanted to do it herself, so you let her.

For the five years you had been together, both of you took the initiative in everything, and Leah was so happy and proud of you because she knew how hard it was for you to do it.

She didn’t notice you put your book down and started looking at her. You were so in love with her and were so happy to had found her. Your life when you moved to England was hard. Leaving your family and all you had known until then behind was hard. Getting the job at Arsenal was a breath of fresh air for you, and getting to know her was more than you ever dreamed of.

"Penny for your thoughts, babe?" - You asked, intrigued.

"Nothing, it’s nothing." - She replied.

"Oh, it can’t be nothing if it makes you frown that way." - you sit up and looked at her concerned.

"I just, I love you so much. You make me so happy. It feels so good to be loved by you."

"Oh, Leah, I love you. You can’t imagine how much. Honey, what is it" -  You pouted. You caressed her face and she surrendered at your touch, leaning her head to your hand.

She kept silent, but she was smiling a bit. You are starting to figure out what she’s thinking about and you are trying to hold back your tears. She avoided your gaze for a second. You took her chin up. She saw you crying and she lost it. You could read each other’s minds, so you found the courage to answer for her, even though you were so nervous.

"Whatever you are going to say or ask, it will always be “yes”, Leah." - She looked at you surprised and she relaxed, a weight lifted off of her shoulders.

Smiling, she stated:

"Marry me. Be my wife. Choose me." - She almost pleaded. Seeing her like this was something unexpected, but it melted your heart seeing her so vulnerable.

"Leah Williamson, I was yours the second my eyes met yours that day at Meadow Park. I chose you the moment you asked me to go on a date with you for the first time. I chose you when you asked me to be your girlfriend. I choose you everyday. I will gladly be your wife."

With that, you close the small gap that was separating you and sealed the deal with a sweet and soft kiss. Your lips confessing what your hearts had been feeling for quite some time, something that words can’t say most of the time.

When you slowly and sadly pulled away, she looked at you and smiled excitedly. 

"You can’t imagine how much I’ve been thinking about all the ways I could ask you this."

"And you simply chose the best option." - you finished matter-of-factly.

"Really?"

"Le, this is us, simple, beautiful. I wouldn’t want it any other way. Because it wouldn’t be us."

"I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you."

"I can’t wait either, you cheesy."

"You love me, you cheesy."

"Sometimes I can’t really believe you are with me. I can’t believe you love me." - You confessed silently, almost as if you were afraid of saying out loud.

"You better start believing, my girl. Because I am planning on doing it for the rest of my life."

"I can’t wait."

You kissed each other softly, enjoying the night and imagining the future together.

Oh

I'm keeping you forever

Got to keep you, baby

Oh, forever

In your arms

[goldenwilliamson]

hard launch | leah williamson

pairing: leah williamson x reader

a/n: merry christmas!!! enjoy some christmassy awfc fluff x

summary: reader and leah film their parts in the arsenal christmas gifting video. reader receives a gift that shows everyone who's girlfriend she is.

word count: 1.3k

The Arsenal media team had set up a Christmas tree lined with presents for all the girls to open for a video. You obliged happily, excited about having a present to open before Christmas. Leah however had to be convinced.

"It's bad luck! You can't have us opening gifts before Christmas!" She said, her voice firm.

"Ease up Lee, it's just a little present from the club," you said, rubbing the space between her shoulder blades while silently laughing at your girlfriends commitment to tradition.

"My Mum can't find out about this, she'll have a fit," Leah says, eyeing the tree scornfully.

"Well she might see this video when it goes up," Frimmy says from behind the camera.

You move out of the shot now and watch through the screen of the camera as Leah steps into frame and speaks directly to the lens, "Do I look as awkward as I feel? Because I'm sorry Mum, I don't normally do this before Christmas day, I'm being forced to."

Shaking your head, you and many of the other girls watch on in anticipation as Leah unwraps her gift, and when she pulls out the electric keyboard you all exchange knowing glances. It's no secret that learning piano has been Leah's latest mission, and you more than anyone have been along for the journey. Most evenings now your night was soundtracked by Leah sitting at the piano stool, reading her sheet music and practicing.

When she was preparing for her performance with the BBC orchestra you must have heard her play that Shania Twain song about 200 times before you had to cut her off.

"You've got it Leah, I promise," you had stressed to her.

"I'm just so nervous, I need to know I can do it perfectly!" She demanded, starting to play it again.

"Nope. No. I'm sorry, but I'm cutting you off. It's time for bed," you had said. Even though you were always supportive of her endeavours, you knew she was only stressing herself out with the drive for perfection.

"Baby, please just let me practice it one more time, then bed," she pleaded like a little kid asking for five more minutes of play time.

"Fine. Once more. But I am telling you it's been perfect 98% of the times you've played," you said.

She just waved you away and played it once more all the way through, perfectly of course, and then finally conceded to your request. When you finally crawled into bed together that night you turned towards Leah, murmuring into the darkness.

"I'm starting to get worried that I'll have Shania Twain stuck in my head forever."

Leah giggled but reassured you, "I won't be playing it forever. And trust me, I'm sick of it too."

Now today she was sitting down, playing the little electric keyboard and trying to get everyone to guess what she was playing. You knew straight away it was Adele, because she had played it for you just last night, but it took everyone else a little longer to catch on.

Leah, pleased with her present moved along to allow for the next girls to go through. You stepped in, ready to unwrap your presents with Steph and Kyra, but before you got to pull off the paper one of the Arsenal media people pulled you out.

"We'll get you to open yours on your own, Y/N," they told you. You weren't really sure why, but you trusted their vision and waited for your turn.

When you were finally standing in front of the camera after Steph and Kyra, you felt your present through the wrapping and you could tell that it was a piece of clothing. As you pulled it out, you unfolded it to reveal a t-shirt. And you instantly realised why they'd got you to open it on your own. It seemed to be a fan made t-shirt that had pictures of Leah all over the front as well as LEAH WILLIAMSON printed in large pink block letters running down the side.

You bent over laughing, not even sure if you should show it off to the camera. While you and Leah were officially together, it hadn't really been confirmed publicly. The media team knew that and obviously got you on your own so they could easily leave your clip out of the video.

"Really?" You looked up at the small crew, holding the shirt up next to your face.

Leah, watching on began to laugh now, seeing what you'd been given.

"Best present of the day guys!" She exclaimed.

"So ridiculous," you said as all the girls behind the camera laughed.

"Hard launch," Kyra said, teasing you both.

"Shut up," you smiled, "This won't be going on the Instagram," you said assertively, pointing directly down the barrel of the camera.

"Why don't you put in on, Y/N," Leah suggests.

"You'd like that wouldn't you?" You narrow your eyes at your girlfriend, knowing how much of a kick she would get out of seeing you wearing the top, looking like a fan.

"Go on," Steph urges you.

Begrudgingly, you pull your training shirt up over your head, receiving playful wolf whistles from the girls before you pull your new t-shirt down over your body. When it was on you held your arms out, showing it off.

"How do I look?" You said, giving a little spin as the girls clapped for you.

Leah walked over towards you and held onto your waist, admiring herself on your shirt.

"I bet this inflates your ego," you say, seeing the cheeky sparkle in her eyes.

Leah didn't even say anything in response, she just moved to stand next to you, threw her arm around your shoulder in a very platonic manner and posed towards the camera.

"I love meeting fans," she said, smiling at her own joke.

"Ha ha," you said sardonically, rolling your eyes and nudging her away from you.

"We should get a photo of this though," Leah said, pulling her phone out of her pocket and handing it off to Steph who snapped a picture of you both. When you looked back at it Leah wore a very cocky smirk and looked as if you were posing for a photo with your favourite footballer.

Katie stood over your shoulder to peer at the photo, "Oh that's got to go in a photo dump girls."

"I don't think so," you said quickly, leaving it there. Though you did wear the top around for the rest of the day, finding it surprisingly comfortable, until you tucked it away into your bag before heading home.

You had honestly forgotten about it until Christmas Day when you were scrolling on Instagram in bed after the long day of festivities and you saw Leah had tagged you in a photo. She was right next to you sitting on her phone with a smirk on her face.

"What have you posted?" You asked, clicking onto it and swiping through the various Christmas photos until you saw your own bashful face reflected in the photo that Steph had taken of you in the shirt. The caption read, Best time of year (love my fans @Y/N.Y/L/N) x.

Katie McCabe had already liked the post and tagged you in a comment, President of the Leah Williamson fan club aren't ya? @Y/N.Y/L/N.

"Leah!" You said sharply, looking at your girlfriend in disbelief.

"What? It's a great photo," she said.

"You're fuelling the fire," you said, referencing the ongoing speculation online about your relationship.

"So what? I don't care if people know we're together, do you?" Leah said simply.

You realised that you also didn't care, in fact you would be proud for people to know, so you shook your head.

"Of course I don't," you said, reassuring her that you were okay with this.

"Good, then stop being grumpy about the photo," she said, leaning over to give you a kiss.

"It's such a bad photo! I genuinely look like a teenage fan girl," you laughed.

"That's what makes it so great," Leah says, giggling at her ability to annoy you.

You shake your head and pick up your phone again, feeling confident in your relationship with Leah, no longer caring if people know or they don't. This leads you to respond to Katie's comment with two simple words that are enough to send all the fans spiralling over the small confirmation: Hard launch?