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luveline · 10 months

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hi jade my love!! i was so excited to read if it barks part 4 and i hope you don’t mind me sharing my thoughts and favourite bits once again <3

Pretending gender doesn't play into it would be silly. But it gives you a migraine whenever you think about it, so you try not to.

"The Bangles," you repeat, genuinely surprised by her comparison. "The only thing we have in common with them is that we're girls."

i know i’ve talked about how much i love that you write your characters multifaceted but also i love how you always build the world around them like she’s not only worrying about her relationship with eddie or the other girls but also how their music is perceived by the industry and how being a girl affects it!!! love it love it love it

The more you know Morgan, the less you’ve felt you could love her. It might be cruel to recognise that. She demeans your style, pokes fun at your body, and worst of all, she takes the piss out of your constant dedication to the music you make.

You do. Morgan’s probably trying her best, in the same way that you’re doing yours, balancing friendship and music and fame and a high-pressure job with little room for slip-ups. And now Eddie. Maybe Morgan has an Eddie somewhere, some larger than life loverboy with a penchant for sharpness and sweetness simultaneously.

omg and the way it parallels to a previous part where r says that she thinks the worst thing about morgan is she could love her </3 also what i said about you writing your characters multifaceted!!

Worse is that this could all be different. If you were prettier, someone Morgan approved of. If you were smarter, and could garner Ananya's interest. Feeling like an outsider in the extreme that you do can't be good for you, but there's no quick fix. The only time it goes away is when you're on stage playing music for a thousand outsiders. Or when you're with Eddie.

first of many, MANY favourite bits 😭

His hug. That might be what you miss most. Boy's got a world-class smile that gives dizzying, sickly kisses but what you want to feel most is the weight of his arms around you. You want him to hold you steady.

another favourite <3

If it barks like a dog, and it heels like a dog… You grip the door. You miss him, and it's terrifying. He can be cruel. You can be cruel too, but you'd been at his fucking mercy. He'd looked at you and he'd known exactly what to say that was gonna mess you up. He has a talent for it. You hate this, and you know now you won't sleep until you're sure things are okay between you, though there's no reason anything would've changed since the last time you saw him. What kind of pathetic does that make you?

i like how they were still able to build a loving relationship even though they’ve said the meanest things to each other. and what i mean when i say that i like is that i’m not big with the enemies to lovers trope because it’s so hard to write it in a way that feels serious and big enough to justify the enemies part of it without crossing the line to something irredeemable and i think you’ve done it perfectly. and that you named your work after that scene!! genius.

"Hi," he says again, something warm in his voice. "Y/N? My Y/N, or a fan who knows just what to say to get my number?"

You go a bit blind. "Your Y/N."

"Shit, I think I was starting to forget what you sound like," Eddie says.

“You’re such a sweetheart,” you say, not really thinking about how it sounds. “I love that song, it’s so sweet. I thought you were this big scary jerk but it turns out you’re just as soft as the rest of us. Turn it up, I wanna listen.”

+ (last one i promise)

Because you’ve been confronted with the good. His laugh. His love songs. And you’re realising he isn’t as in your reach as you’d thought.

remember when i was so mad at him in the previous chapters? yeah me neither. i love him and i love them.

“I want to tell you something,” Eddie says.

“Oh, gross. You can’t just say that, now I’m panicking,”

shes so real

There’s a small sound. Maybe he’s licked his lips, or changed positions. “When I… when we had that fight, in the Prover Theatre. I just want you to know that I regret how I treated you. I wish I could take it back, and… I wish I had the guts to tell you in person, but I don’t. Sorry. I’m sorry. It’s not how I want to be, and I need you to know that you’re right about me, I’m a loser, but I’m the kind of loser who wants to take you out to dinner and knock my soda in my lap or try to kiss you too soon, not the kind of loser who leaves you hanging.” He laughs like you had, like it’s being dragged out of him, and you realise that Eddie Munson is panicking on the other side. “Shit, can I take some of that back? I’m cool, I swear.”

ajakajdjakaks 😭😭😭😭 IM COOL I SWEAR STOP I LOVE HIM

Eddie finds that he hates having an almost-girlfriend. In his head, in his chest, you're his girl. He doesn’t know how to explain himself beyond that. It’s this feeling like heat, like light, like the kiss of a sunbeam on a cold day warming his skin. And it’s the blessed breeze in a heatwave, it’s ice on an ache, it’s the feeling of your skin, your pulse under his touch. Absence doesn’t make the heart grow fonder —it grabs wanting by the neck and squeezes all the air out. If he doesn’t get to see you soon he’s gonna lose it.

He tried explaining it to Wayne down the phone, because he’s being a good nephew now and actually calling, but he couldn’t take himself seriously, all those cheesy metaphors like chewed cud in his mouth waiting to be swallowed and yacked back up. He said, “Does it always feel like this?”

And Wayne sort of laughed, a derisive snort to seal the deal, and said, “Eds, you ain’t the first kid to fall for a girl.”

jade baby that was BEAUTIFUL. definitely one of my favourite bits. so so beautifully written. that last part made me think of a james baldwin quote where he says (something around) that we tend to think our feelings are unprecedented in the history of the world <3 love that

He blames himself, thinking you were right after all – he did kiss you too soon. And for the wrong reasons. Now he knows what it feels like, knows what sound you make when you like it, how was he ever supposed to move past that? Your arm under his lips, or your hair against his cheek as he tried to hug the bone-deep dread out of your system, a faucet drip drip dripping by your thigh. He can’t remember what you smell like anymore, only that you smelled good, and he gets that this’ll be the nature of whatever relationship you two manage to cradle for a long while; he’d never ask you to follow him, and he thinks you’d rather die than do anything similar.

this whole section too LIKE 😭 he knows he kissed her way too early and before they could do things right like apologize and start it all over but now HOW COULD HE NOT DO IT. also the way that he can’t remember what she smells like and knows that it’ll probably be like that again in the future cause it’s the kind of stuff you need to be around constantly to remember exactly but they would never ask her to leave everything she worked so hard to get behind and she would never do the same to him 😭

Better are your hands. No, better is your smile, because he knows you more than he should already and he knows what your smile means. You’re happy to see him, and you don’t want him to know it.

the “no, better is your smile” kinda caught me off guard just cause it felt so pure like we were watching the thought pop in his mind 😭 i loved it

Eddie’s surprised at your honesty, not because you aren’t an honest person, but maybe because he’s used to skirting around the issue with you. There’s a mutual attitude that anything unsaid is untrue, and lately you’ve both said a ton of stuff you can't take back. He’s sorry, he wants to see you. You feel better when you’re with him. It’s embarrassing considering how little time you’ve spent together, and Eddie wants to change that.

Unfortunately for him, there’s a little more awkwardness to cut through, the shame of vulnerability or the realisation that you’re both standing on the precipice of something shiny and new. Suddenly, every word feels important. He has to make it clear that he’s repentant, and desperate, but only for you.

i think that it makes so much sense that they’ve built this relationship on honesty and even like things you wouldn’t say to someone you’re only starting to build something with cause wasn’t it like that all the time for them? even when they were not lovey dovey but brutally mean to each other, weren’t they doing the exact same, being honesty but in a cruel way? i love that. love that you’ve built their relationship like that. also HES REPENTANT AND DESPERATE BUT ONLY FOR YOU 🤧

Over the phone, he's told you about Wayne and growing up, and about stuff he doesn’t think he’s told anyone before, not secret so much as mundanities that no one ever wanted to listen to. He sticks to mundane things for now. Like the phone calls between you both (new, occasional, but always too long), he talks until he runs out of things to say, and even then he drags it out to a painful threshold.

the idea of eddie telling her about wayne and his life growing up is so wholesome to me 😭💘

You give him a look that can only be described as loving. It’s pure affection, and if he weren't sitting he’d have fallen over from how it makes him feel. You lean forward until the top part of your face is on his cheek, your eyelashes twitching like a butterfly’s wing.

beautiful. SO beautiful. also eddie being obsessed with her eyelashes since the previous parts is something so important to me

"I'm a big girl," you say after a short second of staring at him, the ridge of his nose and the curls silhouetting his slight hint of cheekbone. "I don't need you to take all of the blame."

"Ah, but I'm selfish. I want it all." He shrugs. "Better luck next time."

aagghhhh <3<3<3

You love this. All these familiar touches. Like a moth to a flame, you follow him back up into the main storefront and sit beside him on top of a crate, cradling the Les Paul like a baby you're terrified of dropping.

this part alone made me create a whole playlist for them in my head i swear. LOVE the moth to a flame imagery <3

"Like I'm your dog," you say, a joke that brushes too close to home. You fumble over the strings, gaze resolute on the body of the guitar rather than his face. You don't care that he said it —you care that he knows he said it. It doesn't make sense in so little words, but the feeling is contrite. It doesn't allow for sensical explanation. The humiliation of being seen is worse than a spurned insult thrown haphazard at your feet. His insult isn't as bad as your reaction to it. The fact that he knows it upset you. That's the worst part. It's embarrassing because he was right. Of course it is. And it doesn't get better, because you're still the same. Still running back after every kick. No matter the leg.

i literally flinched when she said “like im your dog” cause i KNEW it was gonna hit too close to home for them. also the raw emotion of not caring about what he said but the fact that he knew it would upset her and it did. you have such a way of putting confusing and weird feelings into words i love you for that. also!!! still running back after every kick no matter the leg???? insanity. beautifully written but criminal.

"I think you're beautiful. You impress me, and you make me wanna write bad songs," he says, rubbing his thumb over your fingers. "What am I saying? I can't write a bad song. It's impossible. Especially if they're about you."

another favourite lovey dovey bit <3

"I don't care if everybody wants me," he says, and kisses you again, your noses smushed together. "That's not true, anyway," —he laughs quietly into your open mouth, his breath warm as it fans over your lips and tongue— "and if it were," —he kisses you a third time, his head tilted to the side, his lips parted a fraction like he can't wait long enough to line up with you— "it wouldn't change what I want."

cryinh jade how could you WRITE this. how.

Colo Do Amante Hotel, April 1991

omg is that in portuguese or am i tripping

He's trying to write about how you look now before you move, before he can forget it.

nothing to add just thought this was adorable. also made me think of that previous line where he says that he will eventually forget these small things about her when she’s not around <\3

Being your almost boyfriend comes with privileges, like being privy to how you're feeling. Once unbeknownst to Eddie and probably everyone in your life, you're not a very happy person. He could guess why, he's not blind, but thinking it and knowing it are two different ponds. You don't say much about it, embarrassed by or maybe unable to verbalise how you're feeling beyond, "I'm tired of everything today," and, "Sorry, I'm just worried."

:( <3

"It's weird that we managed to find each other," you say. "Though everything. You had to like all that music, we had to want this bad, we had to be born at the same time, in the same scenes, and we had to go to the same stupid party."

Recollection lights your eyes, and then, like he'd so desperately wanted to see months ago when he wandered into you of all people at a sticky, snow-loaded party, you smile at him. Like you missed him. Like you can't believe your luck.

"Well, hey, stranger," you whisper, your thumb rubbing along his bottom lip, fingers tucked neatly behind his ear. "I remember you."

"You took your time," he says.

SHUT UP THIS WAS THE MOST WHOLESOME THING EVER

also even though they’ve met before it’s still insane that they were able to find each other again. if anything it makes it even more weird how much things had to happen in a certain way so it could lead them to one another. the string tying them together etc <3

Earnestness has you sounding your best: your voice has always been one of his very favourite things about you. Your voice, your smile, your passion (maybe that one most of all). When you talk as you are now, without anything in the way, he thinks he might be at his most infatuated.

the way he’s constantly mentioning her smile and her eyelashes and her voice and!!!!!! im going insane!!!!!!!

You pick up your camera and aim it at his face. He knows how he must look, his hair frizzy from hours on a small plane, lips sore from kissing you, ridiculously happy. Now you know everything about him he'd been purposefully hiding. All the bad in all of the good, and all the good in all of the bad. He can't wait to tell you the rest.

RIDICULOUSLY HAPPY. HE CANT WAIT TO TELL YOU THE REST. BYE.

love the “all the bad in all of the good, and all the good in all of the bad” too. i think its a great imagery to how you’ve been portraying these characters!

"Listen," he says as he breaks away, his lips tingling, heart in his throat. "Can I be your boyfriend?"

He hadn't meant to ask like that.

You nod slowly, then quickly, trying uselessly to tamp an ecstatic smile as you paw at his arms. Eddie pulls you back up onto the bed and you make camp in his lamp, hands in his hair and lips like an undulating wave against his. He kisses you until he can't think.

jade. i love you. i love your writing so much. i love the effort and the love you put in every single one of your works and if it barks it’s turning out to be one of my favourite fics of yours just cause of how much care you put into building this world and these characters as real and honest and flawed people!!! i think whatever comes next is gonna utterly break and shatter my heart and i trust you completely to do it.

you’re insane (affectionately) for that cliffhanger btw.

i love youuuuu 💌 - lu

I love you 😭😭😭😭 I don't think I can say everything I want to but let's have a go lmao

I say this every time but you always pull the parts that i think I might be writing just for me, it makes me so happy that you notice !! Their honesty with each other that fosters both meanness for each other and sweetness, like how their relationship might feel as though its happening in the wrong order but it happened this way because they're willing to be honest more often than they want to be right if that makes sense, it's my favourite type of person! It's scary to say sorry and they trip over themselves to do it anyways because Eddie feels so built for being a dick, even though what he said wasn't wrong

I love writing the loving parts and I don't know if im silly but with Eddie it comes easy the voice I have for him in my head is showful and scared but also willing to be vulnerable for the right reasons like he is in the show, plus hes cool and suave and also a huge loser and I want him too much and writing if it barks is like half love letter to him and half love letter to loser girls who keep getting kicked lol.

They're so messy! They're in love but they aren't, they barely know one another and they know each other too well!! All the good in all the bad ... its why they could hate each other so quickly, I think, cos they could see parts of themselves in each other they already didn't like perhaps, disguised as foreign grievances or maybe they're just idiots 😭

I really love doing the world building even though I don't know nothing about nothing, I don't know America or music, I can't play guitar, I don't know what that feels like, but i can relate to loving a craft and wanting to get so good at it even as you know there's someone better and someone with more practice and even more opportunity as most people feel too!! Plus world building is a joy beside seeing yourself in the world because it feels like setting a stage or painting a background, it makes everything feel more real for me and hopefully anyone reading

I was really struggling to pull the strings together and then one day I was showering and I thought HOLY SHIT!! there's no reason for Eddie to hold onto it anymore, he knows the reader isn't cruel intentionally, he knows she likes him, could love him, so there's no reason to keep it to himself! But I also knew that when he finally traded that in, the balance would start to shift, cos you don't ever really know everything about someone and especially not so soon into a relationship no matter how affectionate you feel, and of course the plot needs somewhere to go now they're in love. The plan for the next chapter is so awfully chaotic and I'm sure it won't stick cos it never does but love(lust, fondness, etc) doesn't suddenly scrape your flaws clean, they're still the people they were before (not entirely, but the deep rooted stuff remains), and it's gonna come back!

"you have such a way of putting confusing and weird feelings into words" you say this but you explained it better in the line before than I did after a paragraph 😭 no but that's the point of contention at this point —it's not that they said certain things, but that saying those things signals both the capability to be cruel (whcih we all have) and the willingness, as well as that read he has on her . It's a really squirmy feeling to be seen for what you fear you are so quickly, and it's bad! But they're saying sorry and trying to fix it because they care about each other, again the honesty ties in if you get me? It's hard to explain haha.

reader is loyal to the wrong people and its going to bite! And Eddie I think has done more growing than she has, she might have to catch up, but he's not perfect of course and im really excited to move forward with all of that so they can foster something special (after pain and agony :D)

I love you! Your thoughts are my favourite thing in the world, and I'm so privileged and happy and lucky to get to read them!! ♥♥

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golden-----hour · 3 months

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1/12/24

I know a whole lot about a whole little. He was enthralled by me. I douched my ass with white wine. It bit from the inside. His finger slipped up into me, tussled with my shit. I used a credit card to split the ketamine. I inhaled in one go. Then my head was out in space a bit. All over his wall was gay art. Men and dicks took up space. We are all overly concerned about space. I am a fucking pig. I squealed with his tongue in my asshole. He couldn't find his poetry from America. He met an important poet and felt important. When my time is up, I won't have done anything important. Trust me when I say it is all for nothing, in an okay way, that doesn't engulf me. He brought out four different poppers bottles. I tried each one like a wine tasting. I inhaled so deep I couldn't feel it anymore. When he was in me I couldn't fall off the cliff of pleasure. He glanced over my body from under my pelvis, his eyes peaking out as it from the side of a bed. Our bodies were entangled. I did remember I was going to die and the words bore me. He made a Moscow mule and I was stable. I felt real for four minutes. It didn't feel good or bad. I stood naked in the mirror and thanked God for my thinness. I am not a twink. He wanted to assign me a group. He determined twunk was more appropriate. Everything felt like a joke. Everything was impossibly important. He talked about the glamor of prestige and feeling important and successful and I was bored. When he came in my bare ass his face was wretched and writhing. Pain and pleasure are homoerotic friends. He wore a suit for me to create the fantasy of power. I was upside down speaking right ways up. He fucked me with his eyes. The next step after this is literally being eaten. I wonder if he could kill me with his tongue. I thought about the Swiss suicide boxes and imagined lying yourself down into a darkness from which you do not emerge. Gay men bow to pleasure. It is a sure path. Things that are all or nothing feel good. To be entitled to pleasure. Risking sanity or safety because it feels good. He said he was smart. We said faggot speaking our gay man language. We want to be smart and thin and unbothered. The most pleasure wins. The most fuck you eyes are the sexiest. He was drawing his hand across me and watching my naked body, my lungs inflating, deflating. He thought I was beautiful. I knew we didn't have long. The words defeat themselves. I admire things that stay that are not supposed to stay. I forgive people who do not deserve it. He liked my confidence. I was talking about the idiocy of bad kissers. It was whatever. He spoke about the diplomatic academy and applying for foreign service jobs, that specific internship. He was aghast he didn't get it. I thought about Ananya and Kamille because he was stuck in the why. My why is the shape of a body and feels like the swell of a chest with my conch shell ear over the ocean of his heart. My hand inside the void. I won't tell which finger I would get rid of first. He was impressed that I am American and a polyglot. Nothing matters enough. After 22, you are 30. I smirked about twink death. My sex is going to get nasty. No one, including myself, is awake. Whatever words are coming speak for themselves mostly. I'm tagging a long behind them like a dog. I am trusting the words and to where they are bringing me. This is a good poetry trail. In the dirt path poem, footprints build a sorrowful sentence. The sentence is the music of weeping. We are supposed to be smart and useful. We are not supposed to be anonymous. If our potential is gone, the want gets smaller, like how the amount of oxygen in the atmosphere directly correlates to spider size. He says do I work at Prada or the Foreign Service Ministry. I said ask yourself what you want and why. It is 5:06pm and horribly dark. Everything was fallow gray and ashen. The light bore dust from cryptic heavens. I said in Spain lives someone I love. He said you know so many words and I said only the ones that matter. My dick was out when I answered. My throat stopped hurting from the ketamine.

I swallowed. I reached the text maximum with the last paragraph which I have never done before. I am following the words and eating their bread trail. What will I make of poetry before it's too late? No one is innocent in their attempt to be none. I lied and told my friends I was still in bed sipping the Moscow Mule and talking about being special. Hello great jaw. I am so surrounded by human beings sometimes it is hard to move. I hold a knife like monkey bars. That is my way of keeping the suffering ignited. Queue leaving the electric stove in my apartment. My austere Landlady leaves me passive aggressive notes when I err in some way. Def Herd war auf, she said. Her eyes are nervous and beating. She never ends a conversation fluidly. I always end up having to walk away to make it cease. The main reason we communicate is for her to tell me how I've fucked up which makes me hate her, but I am guessing if I put more effort in to generally talk with them, it'd be less fraught. At least my suffering, my good suffering, my burning lungs suffering, keep me huffing and puffing on. The day I am orphan, I will do a thing I have never done before. Memory is an exercise in prayer. Aren't you talking to something that you aren't sure is there? Queue being the cleverest bitch in the club. Queen faggot was kissed by enlightenment snorting cocaine off of a strangers dick. I witnessed the silence of truth. The slowness of meaning. All the cameras were on me. The day I transform the agony written here, the day I can read this back. I miss the summer rain and my dogs. I sit in this McDonalds alone, fortunately. I need to go lay down again, and try to clean.

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