#and she was like ‘wow congrats you’ve done the dishes — i do every other fucking thing to keep this household afloat in ways you see

[wavesoutbeingtossed]

The whole discourse about the privacy/secrecy/support thing has been sitting with me for a few days (I mean other than it always does to a certain degree) thanks to all the excellent discussion happening and I know I'm not saying anything that hasn't been said a million times before, but I think what we're seeing and what we're going to learn (e.g. from TTPD) is that it wasn't just the support issue, but how it was shown/handled.

We've all gone out of our way to show that introversion =/= lack of support. Someone can be shy, reserved, etc. and still show up for their partner, whether in public or at home. To chalk any of the differences up to the clash between introversion and extroversion is unfair to folks who count themselves among either tbh.

@thisisctrying said something the other day that hit the nail on the head about how if that support had been offered in private, there very well may not have been a Joever to begin with, or at least not at this point in time. (Sorry for loosely paraphrasing, and for namedropping you! Long time listener, first time poster.)

If this were a case where the "shy" partner said, "I am really uncomfortable with the spotlight personally and do not want to court it, but I will support you in your ambitions and offer you whatever you need to make them happen and make the glare bearable," I suspect that would have gone a long way to making Taylor feel seen and comfortable in pursuing her goals in the way that she now has. Again, that might have been more akin to the balance that seemed to have been struck around 2019 from what we can see, but even speaking in a general sense, there are lots of couples out there, celebrity or not, that have similar approaches where there are highly driven people and busy careers involved.

(A famous example being Dolly Parton's marriage. Tbh I know next to nothing about her and Carl, but she's always heralded as an example in this regard, because her husband is famously uncomfortable with the spotlight and hasn't accompanied her to public events in decades, but she's said that she never minded that because that was always work to her, and what was important was that he supported her in pursuing all her career goals and basically ensured she had a place to call home to return to at the end of the day.)

We're kind of in a brave new world with her current relationship because it felt like, at least at the start, we were maybe watching her figure out her boundaries in real time as to what she was comfortable with or not and adjust accordingly. Like so many have said, I fully believe the extreme privacy thing was initially driven by herself and her experiences in 2016, and she needed that quiet time to recover from all of the things and figure out how to exist in the world again.

Stating the obvious, it seemed like eventually privacy was equated with secrecy, turning the relationship and the celebrity into the elephant in the room and something to never be spoken of to the outside world. People are free to choose whatever works best for themselves and their relationships, and for some the separate public lives might work, but the “kept me like a secret but I kept you like an oath” theme is all over her work and it’s clear that it’s a sore spot for her, because she’s been made to feel shame just for the life she leads so many times in the past.

What I’m trying to say is that it’s pretty obvious something Not Great was happening behind the scenes, which didn’t just amount to “she wanted to be a public celebrity and he wanted to be a private hermit.” (Also, in case anyone forgot, this is a person who also chose a public-facing career who also has to engage in press for it, but I digress.) As her career reached new heights post-folklore, if she had the support at home to do all the things without judgment and with encouragement, and in turn offer the same support to her partner, she may have very well lived just fine with that, not unlike Dolly Parton’s case.

By reading between the lines in all the press since, as well as comments on tour and general ~vibes~ with TTPD teasers, it seems like one of the issues was that that was likely not the case. There was all the stuff that we saw — the reticence to acknowledge each other in the media (particularly on one side), the lack of public support even at events at which they were both in attendance for their respective jobs, the great lengths they went to not to be photographed together at events they attended yet no problem taking pictures with other friends and coworkers, the jobs that separated them, the withdrawing from the public even for work accomplishments, etc. Which could all be manageable if a couple chooses to do so together and are not inherently a sign of trouble in themselves.

But what we’re seeing now I think is a reflection of the things we weren’t seeing then, and it seems to indicate some very deep hurt. (I know, call me Captain Obvious.) And like so many have been saying, it feels likely that that part of that hurt is rooted in that very lack of private support where a person would expect it from their partner. Obviously as a Taylor fan blog I’m going to be more inclined to understand her side of a story, but tbh, it’s also because… this is sooooooo common, and something I’ve experienced in my friend group. (@taylortruther is right when she says most breakups are the same one way or another lol.)

One partner is resentful of the other’s success, or resentful that the other’s priorities begin to evolve as new experiences unlock new goals, or feels the other’s ambitions are not worthy of pursuit, and coupled with perhaps their own struggles in the same domain, it’s easy to see where that can chip away at the other partner’s morale and faith in the relationship. I know I’m just speculating here, but I also don’t think it’s totally unfounded. (Again, because a) I’m picking up what she’s putting down and b) it happens to sooooooo many women even among us dull normals.)

With all the pointed mentions about how much Taylor feels supported in her current relationship and how she in turn loves to offer the same show of support to not only her partner but other loved ones, how she’s stepped out more in the last year to a whole host of events, how she’s mentioned feeling like she locked herself away for years and she’s just proud of her partner and happy she can show up for him even if the chaos around it is unsettling, it paints a picture of what perhaps was happening before last year.

To feel like you’re all alone in carrying the weight of the relationship (or burden of it), of twisting yourself into knots to accommodate the other person’s boundaries (or insecurities) but not feeling reciprocity for your own has to be so painful. (The idea that it may have been even darker and to have a partner not only be unreceptive to your own needs but even perhaps resentful/dismissive/belittling of them is even more painful to think of. I guess we’ll find out when TTPD comes out if that was the case, too.)

At a certain point, that lack of acknowledgement will force your hand to be able to reclaim yourself. And it feels like the further removed Taylor in particular is from it, the more she moves from being sad about the life she felt she gave up by leaving, to angry at the life she felt she was giving up by staying. Especially being in a relationship now where it seems like everything comes much easier, where she can be open about the person she’s with and show up for them, all the stuff that seemed as challenging as climbing Mount Everest in her past is nothing more than a molehill at best in her current life.

TL;DR: I don’t think it’s privacy that inherently spells doom for a celebrity relationship like this; it’s the mutual support and respect that does. If Taylor had felt that in the later years of her previous relationship, I think we could be seeing a different, though not necessarily unfulfilled, person right now in 2024, who’d be happy on tour but whose personal life would look a little different. But it seems like by losing that support she lost parts of herself, and we’ve seen her reclaim that in spades in the last year, and perhaps to degrees she didn’t even realize she could from before all the Bad Stuff started happening in her young adulthood.

I know this was extremely long-winded and unnecessary, especially about total strangers we only know through scraps fed through the media, but I just always bristle at this idea that issues like these boil down to “personality differences,” as though one person wants to live in a city and the other on a remote island, or some shit like that. The whole support (and gender tbh) issue is one that’s just very close to my heart because again, I have seen it play out with so many of my friends in long term relationships and marriages and I just think people in relationships (and women in particular in some circles) deserve better than to feel like they’re being, well, tolerated.

[notnctu]

CONGRATS ON UR MILESTONE BBY!!! SO PROUD 😭😭 (also hehe can i request quote #4 with Jaehyun? with angst, fluff, and suggestive/smut- lol gimme all of them flavorssss) (also no pressure if it’s not all three haha ik it’ll be great anyways)

THANK YOU BB <3 we’re so happy to have ppl who actually... care and read our shit ? LOL i hope you enjoy reading your request! i tried my best to season it with all the yummy flavors hehe you can read it under the cut

-author doie ❀

jaehyun x reader prompt #4 - “You can do this but you can’t return my calls?” genre - angst, fluff, slightly suggestive (wow flavor packed)

dating jaehyun isn’t the easiest love you’ve ever experienced. the valentine boy enjoys to test your patience, but always knows how to mend his mistakes. in this relationship, it’s about compromise. however, you aren’t entirely sure how he is going to be able to make this one up.

you’ve been ringing his number for the past hour and to no avail. it’s your second year anniversary and you’ve overly expressed how important this one is to you. it’s a toast to another year together, when every living person has been fighting you for your favorite boy.

“jung jaehyun, where the hell are you?” you sigh and toss your phone. the restaurants are practically closing by now and your extravagant outfit has been sitting uncomfortably on your body.

not that you two had planned anything grand, just a simple dinner at your favorite restaurant and possibly indulge in a bottle of champagne. did he forget? he has been ignoring you the past days, and you’re not one to jump to conclusions, but he has been distant.

and nothing in your brain brings up any bad memories that you two didn’t amend. so why is he giving you the cold shoulder, especially on your anniversary night? it’s slightly hard to blink back tears when you stare at yourself in your bathroom mirror.

jaehyun loves you, right? you two trust each other. perhaps, he’s been having a hard week and needed space. one single droplet falls abruptly and hits your sink. but you wipe it away, remembering the foundation of your relationship is compromise. you had to meet him halfway.

so you sniff away any malice thoughts that threaten to break your relationship, and as you rush to grab your car keys. your phone rings and your heart falls into the pit of your stomach when you see the caller id.

“hey---”

“how was your anniversary date?! you gotta tell me all about it! did jaehyun get you flowers, he seems like the big bouquet type---”

“he never showed up.” you cut off your best friend, and the line goes silent on the other side of the receiver. it hurt more speaking it into existence, finally admitting it to yourself that your boyfriend never came for you.

“oh.. i’m sorry..” your best friend pauses, “do you want to come over here instead? fuck men.” she sounds persistent and a small vigor in her voice.

you take another deep breath, unsure now where to head to. you were so ready to barge into his apartment and check if he was even alive. “hold on.” you say as you check his location to make sure he’s home, but when you’re searching for his goofy contact picture, it doesn’t show up on the map. jaehyun turned off his location.

“he turned off his location.” you begin to tear up, but the gasp of your best friend catches you off guard.

“no fucking way. that piece of shit!” she yells and you cover your mouth to suffice the cries.

“i’ll come over.” you barely let out and your best friend wishes you a safe drive, telling you how she is ready to bust out all forms of social media to track if anyone was messing with your man.

but you feel a bit numb, more confused. he’s never turned off his location, is he hiding from you? but there are no secrets between you two. you hurry to your friend’s shared house, with unbelievable and unwanted tears running down your face.

there is no way. you reminded yourself of jaehyun’s loyalty and the trust you had in this man. he could never.

and when you pull up to the drive way, your affirmations are right. he could never.

jaehyun stands with the largest rose bouquet you’ve ever laid eyes on. his hair nicely slick back, in a suit to match your equally dressed up attire. he looks up from your head lights announcing your arrival and he can see the sadness that lingers on your cheeks.

he hurries to open your car door, and you shut the car off. “what the hell, jung jaehyun!” you lightly push at his shoulder when he reaches down for your hand.

he smiles sweetly, dimples deeply in his cheeks. “happy anniversary, y/n. you’re still absolutely breathtaking.”

you take his hand as he guides you to the entrance walkway, the bouquet of roses now in your other. rose petals are scattered on the pavement that lead to the front door and your best friend stands with the biggest grin on her face.

“you traitor!” you jokingly yell at her, but she cheekily hugs you.

“surprise! happy anniversary, y/n!” she guides you into her dining room and the table is full of your favorite dishes, prepped and cooked by two important people in your life.

you marvel at the fancy table cloth and pink balloons that roll around on the floor. it’s over the top cheesy, and definitely something you see in classic romance movies. and you laugh. you smile. you kiss jaehyun with gratitude.

“you can do this, but you can’t return my calls?” you raise an eyebrow at the handsome man, who blinks back at you with a gaze that makes your knees weak.

he chuckles, the baritone sounding lovely, “it’s because i was doing this, that i couldn’t return your calls. i wanted to surprise you with something special on this very important day.”

“you let me wait an hour!” you pout, of course you are more than grateful for your boyfriend setting up everything perfectly. you just wanted to express a few grumbles for more explanation.

“aw i’m sorry, baby. your best friend forgot to set an alarm to wake up from her nap... and i lost track of time when i was blowing the balloons. i swear she was suppose to call you earlier.” his thumb rubs circles on your jawline, as he gently caresses your face.

“i know, i’m the worst. but hey! you’re using my house, so i say we’re a little even.” your best friend laughs, grabbing her keys from the table. “have fun, lovebirds. you know which one the guestroom is.” she smiles before shutting the front door and leaving you two for privacy.

“why are you using her house?” jaehyun’s hand snakes around your waist, drawing you close to his toned torso. he plants a sneaky kiss against your neck, mumbling into your skin the answer to your question.

“jungwoo’s friend is staying over for the weekend. i can’t fuck you properly if we don’t have a bed, right?”

“don’t act like we haven’t done it without one before though.” your laugh is cut short as jaehyun gives your ass a small squeeze, groaning in your ear as filthy memories on his bedroom floor, bathroom, kitchen flood his thoughts.

“i’m a little hungry.. ready to eat?” when you meet his dark eyes, his devilish smirk and the suggestive tone imply something else. he is definitely going to make the lost hour up to you.

[beetlebitchywitch]

I really love when you write Dewey, that birthday fic was soooo cute, do you think you'd be down to write more Dewey fluff? Or even hurt/comfort? Just, whatever you want with him, he's perfect and I love him

This sounds awesome! Thanks to @go-commander-kim for kinda getting the whole “Just Friends” trope stuck in my head because here we are. Some angst to fluff Dewey x Fem!Reader for your reading pleasure!

If anyone asked you why you decided to live with Dewey Finn, you would simply ask why you wouldn’t want to live with your best friend. You’d known one another practically since diapers, having sworn an oath on the kindergarten playground to be friends for life, and somehow, you’d managed to make it work. You were both in your late 20’s now, and you were still going strong, so when you both were looking for roommates, it simply seemed to make sense. 

The fact that you got to get a good view of him shirtless now and again was simply the icing on the cake. 

God. Shut the fuck up, you thought to yourself, shaking your head to rid yourself of that thought as you prepared the two of you breakfast. But still, the image persisted, Dewey with his perfectly squishy belly and his chest hair and his hips-

“Y/N, the pancakes are burning!” 

Fuck, he was right, in your reverie you were blissfully unaware of the two pancakes you had on the griddle slowly turning black and sending acrid smoke dancing through the air. You swore under your breath and pulled them off, discarding them both and pouring two new ones to take their place.

“Sorry, Dew, just got a little distracted…” You turned around mid-sentence to shoot him a smile and instead quickly fell silent because Jesus Christ, your daydream was real. Dewey was lounging by the counter with a mug of coffee in had clad only in a pair of pajama pants hanging loosely around his hips that exposed that fucking delicious little happy trail-

You quickly turned back around, eyes scrunched shut as you tried to forget that the guy you’ve practically been in love with for years was standing behind you with no fucking shirt like it was just a thing to do. Love...God, you hated to admit it, but you were absolutely gone for this man, and there was no use denying it, not when everything from his hair, to his voice, to the way he snored made you swoon. But he was your best friend, he’d always been your best friend, and there was no way in hell you’d ruin nearly 20 years of friendship just because your heart fluttered when he was around. Why did you decide to live with Dewey Finn? Because you were a masochist who enjoyed teasing herself with a guy you could never have. 

“Those smell fucking awesome,” Dewey groaned, rifling throug the pantry for a bottle of syrup. “Let it be known that Saturday morning breakfast is an awesome tradition and if I ever say otherwise, assume I’ve gone crazy.” 

“Crazier than you already are? Impossible,” you joked, hip checking his playfully before flipping the pancakes- these ones, thankfully, were golden brown and gorgeous. Dewey ignored your little quip in favor of setting the table, and by the time you walked over with the full stack of pancakes, he was seated with a hungry look on his face, silverware clutched in both fists. 

“Oh yeah, that’s it, come to Daddy,” he crooned, grabbing pancakes from the top of the stack before you’d even managed to set the plate down. You held back a whimper hearing him call himself that, pushing it down with a grimace and joining him in stacking pancakes onto your plate. He groaned loudly, his mouth so full that his cheeks puffed out and syrup dripped from his lips. “Jesus Christ, these are good.” 

“They’re from a fucking box, Dew, it’s not like we’re having brunch at The Four Seasons,” you said with a playful eyeroll, trying to ignore how badly you wanted to lick up that little bit of maple syrup clinging to his lower lip, God, could this get any worse? “You’re on omelette duty next Saturday, alright? I want that mushroom and swiss one that you make.” 

“Anything for you, Shortstack,” he said with a wink. God, that stupid fucking childhood nickname. It used to annoy you, since Dewey had been taller than you your whole life and never ceased to make fun of you for having to look up at him when you spoke, but now, every time he used it, it was with a warm affection in his voice and his eyes that made it damn near impossible not to swoon. You cleared your throat and sent him a withering stare, trying to hide how your insides had melted from one simple word. 

“Bite me, Dewdrop,” you grumbled, your stomach swirling with warmth when he beamed at the sound of his own nickname, his eyes crinkled so adorably that you couldn’t help but smile around a mouthful of pancake. God, this fucking idiot. “What are we thinking tonight, another horror movie marathon? I’ve got some real shitty ones we could make fun of!” 

“As fun as that sounds, I can’t,” Dewey said, a soft pink blush crawling its way onto his cheeks. “I...I kinda have a date tonight.” 

Date. 

Date. 

Just hearing the world felt like icicles stabbing at your gut, and as it reverberated in your mind, the pain only grew. Dewey had a date?

“Wow! With who?” you asked cheerily, putting on as brave a face as you could the second you saw that happily little smile blossom across his face. 

“Her name’s Amy. I met her at last week’s gig and we just kinda hit it off, I guess. We’re going out tonight for a few drinks,” he said excitedly, blushing profusely seemingly thinking about her. You could feel tears clawing at your eyes, your throat tightening as the thought of him with his arms around some faceless girl assaulted your mind. You couldn’t help but imagine him holding her close, kissing her, whispering little sweet words into her ear while she giggled like a fucking schoolgirl; it made you sick to your stomach, the stack of pancakes in front of you suddenly seemingly utterly unappetizing as you maintained your bright smile, hoping it didn’t look forced. You wanted to be happy for him. You needed to be happy for him, because you’d be a shitty fucking friend if you weren’t, and you refused to lose the guy who’d been there for you since fucking kindergarten, no matter how badly you wished it was you putting that giddy little smile on his face. 

“Well hey, congrats buddy!” you choked out, trying to hide the strain in your voice. “Let me know if you need help getting ready, alright? I, uh, I think I’m gonna go clean up.” 

“Yeah, alright. Wait, you barely touched your breakfast, are you ok?” he asked, looking so concerned that it practically punched you in the gut because you knew you couldn’t be honest with him. 

“Yeah, I’m just less hungry than I thought. You finish your plate, I’ll just be doing the dishes.” And with a half-smile and a little nod, you retreated as quickly as you could to the kitchen, finally letting the tears fall silently as you leaned over the sink, your hands trembling as you braced yourself against the counter. You should’ve fucking known this would happen. Dewey was a great guy, an attractive guy, and you knew someone else would come knocking one day, someone who would make him blush and giggle and swoon the way you did whenever he so much as breathed. You’d tried to deny it, tried not to think about it, tried to forget that other people existed that Dewey might just be interested in, but now the day had come where you finally had to face the music. Sure, maybe this girl wouldn’t last. Maybe they’d date for a few months, break up, and you’d be left dealing with the aftermath of a sobbing Dewey surrounded by snotty tissues and self-loathing. But there’d be another girl after that, and maybe one more after that, and all the while you’d have to sit back and smile and support him as if the sight of him loving someone else wasn’t slowly eating you away from the inside out. But you were a good friend, you were a good friend, and you’d never let your feelings keep you from being there for Dewey, from cheering him on in everything he did. You’d walk him down the fucking aisle and give him away to someone else if you had to, because that’s how much you loved him. Your love wasn’t selfish; it never was, and it never would be. 

So, you dried your tears, steeled your nerves, and began doing the dishes, shutting your brain off in favor of mindlessly completing your task. You heard Dewey get up from the table and likely wander off back to his room, but you paid him no mind and finished cleaning up the remnants of your breakfast. When you were done, you retreated to your room, locking the door behind you and curling back up in your unmade bed, wishing you could fall back asleep and redo the day. You’d stayed there for hours, hair undone and still in your pajamas as you drifted in and out of sleep, fitfully tossing and turning as you tried to forget what was inevitably coming. By dinner time, you finally gave up on your pity party and got dressed in a soft pair of jeans and a t-shirt, throwing your hair up in a bun and venturing out in the living room. But when you saw Dewey...you froze.

He was perfect. Decked out in his favorite band t-shirt, a black leather jacket, and dark jeans, he looked fucking incredible. It wasn’t the fanciest get-up, but for a night out drinking, it was absolutely perfect, and you couldn’t stop yourself from staring. 

“Wow,” you breathed softly, suddenly feeling incredibly underdressed in your ratty t-shirt and ripped up jeans. Dewey turned at the sound of you, smiling nervously and straightening out his jacket as he faced you. 

“Yeah? Do you think it looks good?” he asked, brushing himself off and looking at you anxiously. You gulped and smiled, nodding despite feeling like there was a heavy rock in the pit of your stomach. 

“You look great, Dewdrop,” you said honestly, wanting nothing more than to just reach out and hold him, but holding yourself back for your own sake. “When are you meeting her?”

He checked his watch and balked, quickly rushing to the couch to throw on his favorite pair of worn black boots.

“I should actually get going now. Don’t wait up, alright?” And with a quick wink, he was out the door, leaving you completely alone. You stood silently for a moment, letting the reality of the situation wash over you. That was when the tears came, just silently dripping down your cheeks as you moved to curl up on the couch, swaddling yourself in a blanket and letting yourself cry. 

For the next three hours, you’d think about him, what they were doing, what they weren’t doing, wondering if he’d go home with her...what if he brought her back here? You couldn’t bear the thought of Dewey stumbling back into your apartment with a giggling girl in his arms, kissing down his neck, dragging him to his bedroom...you shook the thoughts from your head, wiping your tears away each time they came. You hated yourself for this, for throwing yourself a fucking pity party on the couch while Dewey was out with God knows who probably having the time of his life. You felt pathetic compared to him, and you knew that if he could see you now, he’d probably think so too...no, that was a lie. Dewey would never think that way about you, which somehow made it worse. Fuck him and how fucking good he was- if he wasn’t such an awesome guy, you wouldn’t be in this fucking mess! Before you could let yourself spiral any further, the front door suddenly swung open, startling you out of your own head. There was Dewey, looking slightly put off without a girl in sight. Ugh, thank God. You let out an internal sigh of relief and put a smile on your face.

“You’re back earlier than I thought,” you greeted him. 

“Sadly,” he grumbled, running his fingers frustratingly through his hair. “That date was a mess.”

God, you didn’t want to be happy about this. You did not want to be happy about this. But you were, you simply couldn’t stop yourself from feeling so utterly relieved that Dewey’s date was a total bust. 

“Yikes. Come here, tell me all about it.” You patted the seat next to you on the couch, which Dewey gratefully took. The scent of cigarettes and beer hit your nose, not altogether unpleasant when mixed with his cologne. “So. What happened?”

“God, nothing. That was the problem,” he groaned, leaning back and staring up at the ceiling. “We didn’t jive well at all. She didn’t seem weird when we first met, but like...ok, I tried to get her to do karaoke with me, but she totally blew it off like it was a dumb idea. I even wanted to do Don’t Stop Believin’, but she acted totally stuck-up, like karaoke was beneath her. And so then I tried to order her a drink, just a Long Island Iced Tea, and she fucking turns her nose up at it like it’s garbage! And you’re not going to believe this- she didn’t even want wings. 10 wings, half buffalo, half soy garlic, and she doesn’t touch a single one. I mean, who goes to a bar and doesn’t order wings? I swear, I thought we were gonna hit it off great, but she just...I don’t know, she just didn’t seem to want to have fun, y’know?” 

You wanted to feel bad for him. Really, you did, she sounded like a total drag. But you couldn’t stop the wheels from turning in her mind as you went over the events of the night, the realization hitting you in the face like a wrecking ball.

Don’t Stop Believin’ was your favorite karaoke song.

A Long Island Iced Tea was your drink order.

10 wings, half buffalo, half soy garlic was your wing order. 

That didn’t mean anything, right? It couldn’t mean anything. Maybe he just liked all of those things too, except no, he always got 15 barbecue wings and a pint of IPA. Maybe Dewey was just used to you liking all those things when you went out for drinks that he just projected onto his date. Or maybe…

“Dewey, did...those are all...Jesus Christ,” you whispered incredulously, running your fingers through your hair as you shook your head. Dewey’s face pinched with confusion, his brows furrowing and wrinkling his forehead as he turned towards you. 

“What? Am I missing something?” he asked, blinking repeatedly as if to try and force himself to figure out what you were thinking. You simply let out a cynical chuckle, standing up from the couch and pacing around the living room, feeling the words you’ve been repressing for years starting to bubble up in your throat. No, hell no. You couldn’t do this, you couldn’t fucking do this, not now, not after he literally was just on a date with someone else, but...you couldn’t do this anymore. You couldn’t imagine another night crying on the couch, wondering what Dewey was doing, wishing it was you with him, wondering if it could be you. You needed to be doing anything else, you needed to not think, you just… you needed to go.

“It’s nothing,” you choked out, avoiding any and all eye contact with him because you knew if you took one look at him, you’d be spilling your guts, and God knows you couldn’t handle that right now. You rushed to the front door, throwing on the closest pair of shoes with fumbling hands. “But after hearing all that, a bar sounds really good right now. I’m just gonna head out for a few drinks, ok?”

“Y/N, wait-” but before he could even finish his sentence, you were out the door, the words you desperately wanted to say dying off in a broken sigh as you rushed down the stairs and hit the street, taking the all too familiar route to your favorite little dive bar a few blocks away from your apartment. It smelled of cheap cigarettes, grain alcohol, and loneliness- perfect for a night like tonight. You felt the cracks in your heart only grow with each step away from your apartment, away from Dewey, but you forged on, finally reaching the bar and wandering immediately to the bartop, sitting down towards the end.

“Hey, Y/N, what can I get you?” 

You looked up to thankfully see your favorite bartender, Ellen, wiping down a glass with a friendly smile on her face. You returned it gladly, feeling somewhat comforted by the presence of a familiar face.

“Hey, love. Can I just get my usual, please?” you asked softly, trying to hide the pain in your voice. Ellen, ever the observant one, put down the glass immediately and pointed an accusatory finger at you. 

“I’m throwing in an extra few wings on the house, alright? I don’t know who hurt you, but you know I know how to hide a body.” And with a wink, she was off to mix your drink, leaving you to look out over the bar with a grimace. You saw many of the regular patrons, some giving you friendly waves, while one unfamiliar looking man was up on the stage, belting away to a song you’d never heard of. You wondered if this is where Dewey took his date. You wondered if you were sitting where she sat, except rather than getting to be out with one of the most incredible guys you’d ever known, you were alone, drowning your sorrows with alcohol and cheap bar food. Ellen returned just as the song ended with your glass, the amber liquid looking increasingly enticing the more you thought about the dumb bitch that somehow took Dewey Finn for granted. Taking it thankfully, you lifted it in a silent toast to her poor judgement and took a hearty swig, comforted by the burn of the alcohol down your throat. Now, all you needed was your favorite order of wings and part three of your pity party could truly get underway. After a few minutes of sipping at your drink, you saw Ellen returning with your food and sighed happily, but she stopped short of you, her eyes locked on something behind you. 

“I was wondering when he’d show up,” she said cheerily, finally placing your wings in front of you. “You never come here alone.”

“What are you-?” You turned around to see who she was looking at and your eyes widened to see Dewey standing only a few feet behind you, panting slightly as if he’d run to the bar. “Dewey, what are you doing here?” 

“What the fuck do you mean ‘what am I doing here’?” he asked, immediately sliding onto the barstool next to you. You tensed at the closeness, feeling the soft leather of his jacket rubbing against your arm, but chose to stare down intently at your wings as if looking at him would betray your feelings. “Something’s clearly up, and you ran away. What, was I supposed to just let you come here and shitfaced alone? Ellen, can I have my usual, please?”

“Coming right up,” she said trepidatiously, looking nervously between the two of you before quickly pouring him his favorite beer and setting it down next to him, making a hasty retreat to the other side of the bar. You sighed, grabbing your own drink and taking a long, slow sip. 

“You didn’t have to follow me. I’m fine,” you assured him, the obvious lie tasting bitter in your mouth. Dewey simply sighed, taking a swig of his own drink before setting it down loudly. 

“Look, I’m your best friend,” he began, and if he saw the way you winced when you heard it, he simply moved past it. “I’m not gonna force you to tell me anything, but you literally know all of my secrets, so why are you hiding this from me?” 

“Because this is fucking different,” you hissed, finally giving in and looking him dead in the eye with a withering stare. “This isn’t like knowing that you pissed your pants at your 3rd grade band concert and spent two hours playing the glockenspiel while standing in a puddle. This fucking means something, Dewey, more than you know, so can we please just sit here and drink in silence?” 

He paused. In the 20+ years he’d known you, he’d never seen you so serious, so...angry. You were angry, he could tell, but he didn’t know why, or what he’d done to make you so clearly adverse to letting him in on it. For now, he knew he needed to respect your wishes and simply be there for you, even if he didn’t know why, but it was already starting to eat away at him inside. With a sigh and a nod, he turned to face the bar, taking a hearty swig of his beer as you finally dug into your wings, trying to ignore the fact that Dewey was basically in this exact situation with another girl only a few hours prior. He looked over at you practically devouring your food and smiled fondly, reaching out to try and steal one. You smacked his hand without even thinking, getting a quiet laugh from Dewey that managed to make you snort under your breath. 

“Sorry, sorry, I know how protective you are of your wings,” he said, holding his hands up in surrender. Your wings. You stared down at your food and drink and still couldn’t believe that Dewey didn’t see it. Maybe you were blowing it way out of proportion, but…

“They’re my favorite order,” you pointed out firmly, meeting his gaze with a meaningful look. “10 wings, half buffalo, half soy-garlic, and a Long Island Iced Tea. Only thing that’s missing now is to get up there and sing ‘Don't Stop Believin’, right?” 

“Right, yeah,” he said, his voice trailing off. It took a moment of silence, but you finally felt Dewey tense next to you, his eyes squinting as he looked at you, then your order, then back at you. You watched as the realization dawned on his, his eyes widening a little and his hand trembling slightly, looking like he nearly dropped his beer. “Yeah...that’s…” 

“Yeah,” you responded solemnly, turning away to sip at your drink, doing everything you could to avoid eye contact. “I realized it before you did, clearly.”

He was dead silent. You didn’t feel him move an inch next to you, clearly staring down at the bartop trying to put it all together in his mind. 

“So you think I…?”

“Yep.” 

“And I...God, I did,” he sighed, putting his beer down to run his fingers anxiously through his hair. “I wasn’t even thinking.”

“Yeah, I can tell,” you retorted, wincing at how rude you sounded. “Sorry, sorry, I just-”

“No, no, I’m sorry,” he said, turning to face you. This was it. This was when he let you down gently, this was the night you ruined your friendship. God, you couldn’t fucking believe how stupid you were. You turned on the barstool to face your fate, keeping your eyes trailed on the bartop even as your body turned toward him. “I never wanted to make this awkward.” 

“Yeah, well, you didn’t,” you grumbled, playing anxiously with your own fingers as all the feelings, the hurt, the anxiety, swirled around inside of you like a thunderstorm. “It’s my fault for making such a big deal out of it.” 

“No, I’m sorry I ever made you uncomfortable,” he said firmly. You paused, finally turning to look at him. Uncomfortable? What was he talking about? “I guess...I guess I just ordered for her like she was you because...because I couldn’t stop wishing that it was you.” 

Oh. 

Oh...my God. 

Oh my God.

“D...Dewey-”

“I’m serious, Y/N, I’m so sorry it ever even came up,” he rambled on, his eyes alone practically pleading for forgiveness. “God, I can’t believe I was so stupid. Look, this doesn’t have to change anything, ok? I’m still your best friend, right?”

“Dewey Finn…” you trailed off, shaking your head incredulously because oh my God, you could not fucking believe what you were hearing. You could feel joy bubbling up inside of you, replacing the anxious storm with fluttering butterflies because for the first time ever, you felt confident about what to do next. “If you think that this doesn’t have to change anything, you’re dumber than I thought.” 

...Oh God, wait. That came out so wrong. You watched as Dewey’s face fell, his eyes rounded and wide as if someone had just socked him in the gut. Jesus Christ, you just found out that your best friend felt the same way about you and you were already fucking it up. Before you could try and take it back, he was standing up from the stool, downing the rest of his beer and leaving a few bills on the bartop.

 “If that’s what you want,” he murmured brokenly. He turned towards the door, his shoulders sagging as he quickly made his exit. You were frozen for a moment, staring after him uselessly for a solid few seconds before frantically rifling through your purse, throwing cash onto the bartop and rushing after him, finding him only half a block away by the time you made it outside. 

“Dewey, wait!” you shouted, sprinting towards him with all your might. He turned around in surprise, pausing on the sidewalk as you rushed towards him. When you reached him, your desperation had reached a fever pitch and you couldn’t stop yourself from pressing Dewey to the nearest wall and capturing his lips in a searing kiss. His eyes were comically wide, his lips smushed against yours almost violently, but he didn’t care, God, he really didn’t care. They quickly slid shut, his arms sliding around your waist and up your back to hold you close, kissing you back with a desperate ferocity. It took you a few moments to realize you were basically making out in the middle of the sidewalk, but you let yourself have it for a few more moments because the man you thought you’d never have suddenly had you in his arms, and you couldn’t help but indulge yourself in him. When you finally pulled away to gauge Dewey’s reaction, he didn’t even open his eyes for a good ten seconds, just basking in the afterglow of the kiss he’d craved for longer than he could remember. When they finally did open, they met yours and immediately crinkled under the force of his megawatt smile. 

“Y/N...you…?”

“Of course I do, dummy,” you chuckled breathlessly, running your fingers through his hair. “Why do you think I was so fucked up over you going on a date? And doing all of my shit with her?” 

“God, she meant nothing to me,” he groaned, his hands pressing firmly on your back and tugging so your bodies were firmly pressed up against one another. “She asked me out and I thought it would finally help me get over you, but all I could do was compare her to you the whole night, and then she hated all the things you love and I just couldn’t stand to be around her. God, Y/N, I just want you-”

He cut himself off with a heady groan as he kissed you again, already addicted to the way your lips felt against his. You whimpered and kissed him back, feeling the joy practically radiating from every pore in your body. He was perfect. This was perfect.

“Take me home, Dewdrop,” you murmured against his lips, tangling your fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck. “Please, let’s just go ho-” 

You yelped as he immediately slid his hand into yours and tugged, pulling you along at the fastest pace possible back to your apartment.

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

The next time you walked into that bar, it was hand in hand with your boyfriend, a proud smile on his lips because yeah, he got to be the one to have you on his arm. You both took your regular seats at the bar, Dewey’s hand placed firmly on your thigh when Ellen finally approached.

“Hey, you two,” she greeted, albeit a bit warily. “You’re certainly looking...chummy.”

“Don’t we always?” you asked innocently, though the playful wink you sent her way told her all she needed to know. She looked between the two of you for a moment before grinning brilliantly, and you and Dewey couldn’t help but share a laugh under your breath. 

“First drinks are on me tonight, alright?” she offered up with a sly grin.

“Come on, El, we couldn’t ask you to do that,” Dewey retorted. You barely paid attention, already melting from the feeling of Dewey’s thumb tracing little circles on your thigh.

“You’re not asking, I’m offering. Besides, won’t be a loss for me. OI, GREG! You owe me 20 bucks!” And with a wink, she was off to pour your drinks and collect her money. You and Dewey both shared a shocked look, which quickly dissolved into snorting laughter as you threw your head back and laughed unabashedly, feeling so much happier than you’d felt in so long that you couldn’t help but let it out. When you met his gaze again, it was soft, his little smile and honeyed stare practically making you melt because Dewey Finn was giving you the biggest heart eyes you’d ever seen, and it was too much to bear. You sighed shakily and leaned in for a soft kiss, losing yourself in the feeling of his plush lips on yours. When he pulled away, it was with a sly grin and a wink.

“How long do you think we’re gonna be here?”

“Mm...an hour.” At that, Dewey slid his hand further up your thigh, his fingertips just barely grazing between your legs. “...O-Ok, maybe only half an hour.”

He chuckled gently and placed a loving kiss on your cheek.

“That’s my girl,” he crooned, leaving his hand exactly where it was when your drinks arrived. You ignored the blush so obviously staining your cheeks and took a long swig. 

This was gonna be a long night. 

[jjsjuiceboxx]

FORTH OF JULY WITH JJ AND THE POGUES WOULD INCLUDE-

SUMMARY- just a head canon of your fourth spent with the pogues.

⚠️WARNINGS⚠️: cussing.

A/N: let me know what y’all think should I do more ??

☮︎ ☮︎ ☮︎ ☮︎ ☮︎ ☮︎ ☮︎ ☮︎ ☮︎ ☮︎ ☮︎ ☮︎ ☮︎ ☮︎ ☮︎ ☮︎ ☮︎ ☮︎ ☮︎ ☮︎ ☮︎ ☮︎ ☮︎ ☮︎ ☮︎

- JJ waking you and the pogues early to get supplies because John b forgot and JJ isn’t good at planning ahead nor is he good at thinking on the spot “you guys no I’m not good under pressure I get duressed”

- At the store he picks up anything and everything that is food ( he smoked weed on the ride to the store and now has the munchies ) “JJ we do not need 5 bags of m&ms and 3 family sized bags of chips”

- Back at the chateau where you all are organizing the food and drinks and other important parts to a 4th of July bash and JJ is rolling blunts up for everyone and putting them in a mason jar

- “Let me help you roll that, it’s a lot that’ll take you forever” “no Pope it has to be perfect and precise or else it won’t light correctly”

- deciding this was just a thing for the pogues and no kooks or tourons allowed so that meant a private beach spot “guys I know a great spot on the beach no one would find us at” “JJ I swear to god if it’s you and Y/N’s sex spot I’m going to hurt you” “it might be....dont think about it”

- you going to help Sarah carry one keg while pope and ki get the other and JJ not wanting you to get hurt such as dropping the keg on your foot and breaking your toe ( yes you’ve done that and not more than once so JJ isn’t risking it ) “I got it for you baby, Sarah I’m a strong man you let go let me carry it and show you how it’s done” JJ would say flexing his muscles

- once everything is set up a camp fire, portable grill, s‘more stuff, all the food and drinks, a table for drinking games, a tarp and buckets of water with soap to make a home made slip and slide, corn hole ( JJ made it especially for the 4th of July and let you paint it how you wanted out on the dock while y’all had a pic nic, his idea of a date it was simple but so cute and beautiful when the sun started to set )

- once the sunset JJ handed you a beer cracking it open for you and then doing the same for himself he pulled you into him and raised his beer into the air to say a toast “you guys are my family and I just wanted to say you’re my favorite people to get wasted with” JJ said, you all knew that was JJ’s way of saying he loved you guys and would always be there everyone knew that too and put their beers in the air and saluted and yelled a bunch of booyahs JJ leaned into your ear and said “I love you and I always will” then he would kiss your cheek and let it linger for a bit “I love you more” you would say sincerely and making eye contact that you held for awhile so he really knows and sees you mean that so deeply

- you guys brought an old ratty table and solo cups to play beer pong of course I mean is it really a party if there isn’t beer pong? Pope and JJ were on one side of the table while you and John b were to the other when playing beer pong you and John b were always a team because you work well together and almost always can tell what’s on his mind without asking and vise versa. “Babe you’re so going down John b and I have this in the bag” “in your dream sweet cheeks” he’d wink at you Sarah was everyone’s cheerleader “GO POPE DEEP BREATH IN AND LET IT OUT AND TOSS” “Sarah you’re my girlfriend” “sorry babe I don’t like picking sides” “ooouu babe a little to the right and you got it” “wow thanks” when JJ shoot 3 in a row you and Sarah both cheered “good job babe” “thank you but love you’re not supposed to cheer your opponent on” “oh right aww boo” that made everyone laugh you and John b won one and then JJ and Pope won one Sarah and kie didn’t but better luck next time

- because of beer pong and the drinks you had before you guys were tipsy which makes the slip and slide THAT Much more fun you pored buckets of water and dish soap on the tarp that was on a hill you guys brought boogie boards and stuff to slide down with Incase you didn’t want to slide on your stomach or back “I’m going first since I’m the pro” kie said grabbing the boogie board and running down it then landing on the boogie board on kies way down she was laughing and squealing, because she had a boogie board when she hit the water she kept going a bit further out “oh my god you look like a skipping stone” JJ would laugh at her John b went on his stomach saying he wanted to see what being a penguin was like Sarah went right after John b making them crash into one another at the bottom and Pope would fall in the sand laughing, JJ grabbed your hand and you guys would run so fast then jump onto the slip and slide and JJ would not let go of your hand even on the way up he still held it and would look down at you smiling so wide you loved when he looked that happy with out a care in the world. Pope went last because he wanted to calculate his move like a weirdo. “Ok so I calculated my speed and where I need to jump at to gre-“ “just got already Pope” “ok” pope stepped back and took off towards the slip and slide and jumped slightly but stayed standing as if he was surfing or skateboarding he made it all the way down that way we all jumped up and cheered him on “dude that was soo cool” “good job Pope that was awesome” “man I wish I thought of that” you guys went down the slip and slide some more

- once it was dark out you guys made a bonfire and started to cook the hot dogs of course you burnt some of them but it’s ok because you brought extra thanks to kie you guys ate dinner and drank some more and talked.

- after dinner you decided it’s dessert time which of course is smores it isn’t a bonfire without it you pope and kie would say when John b asked if it was necessary, JJ looked so confused at all of you using sticks and putting the marshmallow on the stick then into the flames “j what’s wrong?” “N-nothing I’m good” “oh my god JJ do you not know what a smore is???” JJ would pout “shut up kiara of course I know what it is” “if you say so” you would continue talking when you felt a slight nudge you looked over and saw JJ looking at you then his marshmallow on the stick “aww j it’s ok if you have never made a smore before this makes this so much more cute and I’ll teach you” “ok baby, it’s just no one ever showed me or made me a smore before ever” he would say looking down you put your hand on top of his hand that was holding the stick and put it in a flame “the fire will cook and melt the marshmallow you can let it burn it so it’s black and crispy or have it so it’s slightly burnt” you said rotating his hand and stick around to get all sides “how do you like yours done” “I like mine burnt so I just let it catch fire then a few seconds later blow it out plus it is a lot more faster” “then I want mine how you do yours” you put y’all’s hands out further letting it catch fire you pull it closer to you so you can blow it out “ok now hand me a block of chocolate and two graham crackers” he gave them to you and you put the chocolate on one side then put the stick between your thighs and You squeezed your thigh together to keep the stick still you put the marshmallow between the graham crackers mushed them together and pulled the marshmallow off the stick then handed it to JJ “voila a smore made out of love for my love” you smiled and then did a chefs kiss JJ smiled and giggled at what you said “why thank you my lady” he said then took a bite of the smore you saw his eyes light up “oh my god oh my god this is so fucking good this is my favorite thing, I can really taste the love too” he would say smacking his lips around. Every one stopped to look at JJ who had chocolate and marshmallow all over his face you all busted out laughing and JJ realized why quickly laughing too you went to kiss his lips then pulled away and licked the mess off his face then kissed him again “that was so gross” “you’re just jealous popo” “I’m not responding because that is not my name Y/N” “it is now” you would shrug. After you ate the s’mores to the point you would explode. JJ was a mess he has so much chocolate and marshmallows on his hands so he started to chase everyone with his sticky hands “JJ I swear to god if you get your sticky gross fingers on me I will drown you in the ocean” “JJ don’t I just bought this top” “JJ don’t get Sarah’s top gross” “oh my god are you 5?” “4 actually” “that’s fan-fucking-tastic”.

- you could see the fire works from figure 8 you were a good distance away but they were still super close and big “I can’t believe it was 20$ to go to that thing” “yeah you’d be stupid to do that” “we are geniuses we get a free fire work show and we have such a good view of it” you guys all watched the show in aw of how beautiful it was and how it would reflect off the ocean you took pictures of the view for a bit then cuddled into JJ for the rest he would hold you very tight and make sure you had enough drink and food ( chips ) and made sure you were comfy and warm enough.

- it was dark enough to do fire works so Pope, John b, and JJ decided they would be the ones lighting the fire works because “we don’t want our girls to be blown up in the face” all three boys would say. After you guys did your fireworks which were shitty cheap ones you did sparklers “guys someone take pictures” “Sarah we have to live in the moment” “if Sarah says we take pictures we take pictures” “I want to make photo frames for all of us so you can each have one in your room” that ended up being a valid reason so the boys didn’t mope around when they were told to pose.

- the last fire work was a message that read out “Sandra will you marry me?” You all could hear the cheers from where you stood then you heard what you assume to be Sandra shout “oh yes Steve I will” which lead to louder shouts and cheers Sarah mumbles “wow congrats Sandra, thanks for making my parents drag me to more kook gathers” “oh fuck that means me to doesn’t it?” “Of course it does John b” you could hear pope and kie arguing over how fire works ruin the planet when JJ whispered into your ear “one day I’ll have a fire work show for you and it’ll have words and everything because I love you so much and I want everyone in obx to see it they’ll be that big” you smiled up at JJ and kissed him “I love you JJ since you’re doing a fire work show I’ll do something else but it’ll be HUGE don’t worry” “I don’t doubt that” you went to kiss again and were startled apart by more fireworks from kooklandia as you and the pogue refer to it you all laugh at everyone’s scared faces but you turned back to JJ to kiss him again you heard a few clicks and some flashes you pulled apart and kie and Sarah were taking photos “now my photo obsession isn’t so stupid anymore is it?” “Yeah you’ll thank us later when you have such a cool and cute shot of y’all locking lips with the ocean and fireworks in the back” you and JJ just rolled your eyes but by this time next week when you all got the photos back you knew you would for sure thank kie and Sarah for the photos.