#perfectlyfreeanalyst

[macfrog]

“This is over. It’s done. You don’t look at me, you don’t touch me, you don’t talk to me unless it’s somethin’ in your job description or mine. Hell, even then – see if Martha can do it before you ask me. We’re done.” girlie is braver than me talking like that i would've thought i was getting fired fr right there and then

HAHAHHAHAHAHA

she could literally let pigs loose in the office and i don't think he'd fire her if i'm honest

[macfrog]

as we're nearing the end of clm (WHY GOD WHY), i'm coming here to say three little words that will remind us of one of the hottest scenes i've ever read - a beer bottle.

A BEER BOTTLE

das it

swear to GOD those three words will end up on my gravestone. this is my legacy

[macfrog]

I apologize in advance - im so sorry this is gonna be so fucking long, but i just read the latest chapter of clm and i am in awe of your writing! This just might be one of the best things i have ever read!! So so talented! Your words in this chapter are so so gut-wrenchingly beautiful and poetic, i reread a lot of them a few times just to try to capture the feelings they evoked in me. Here are some of my favourite sentences from this chapter, followed by my commentary aka praise for your extraordinary brain and magical writing pen.

"Your dimpled blush blurs back into checkboxes and scrawled handwriting. You’re gone again. He’s in a white office, and the gentle lapping of the water on the pool’s edge fades into the headache noise of a fan humming, and he feels the warmth of your gaze on his skin turn into the cold, harsh spotlight glare of Lois’s eyes on him." WOW!! In the words of the one and only t swift: its giving movie, its giving cinematography. I can see this exact scene in my head like im watching a great fucking movie! These words combined together to form these sentences are obviously laced with some sort of magic because when i tell you i am not well i mean i am INSANE over this piece of A-R-T.

NEXT-

"It’s just: this time, your dad’s at your heels like a bloodhound. A little less sharp, maybe. Blind as a fucking bat, sure. But he can smell something’s up. And he’s circling it, nose to the ground, drawing nearer and nearer to the pair of you with each step." How? How do you do it? Tell us, please. Your way with words combined with how fantastically skilled your use of language is makes me write a ridiculously long message in your inbox screaming about all of it. All of it.

"Her voice is like ice down the back of his shirt. He stares at the machine, red light blinking like a rag to a bull. He could walk over to it and smash the ever-loving fuck out of it with his fists until it’s dust on his coffee table. Until it shuts the fuck up, stops interfering with his fucking business.

And then he thinks about Lois, and her cream blouse, and her red nails, and her big, blue eyes, and her soft drawl and everything about her that is so entirely opposite to everything about you.

And how much – despite how nice and friendly, or funny and good-natured she is – how much he hates her right now, and how much he fucking loves you." Its the imagery for me. Joel bby i love you and i get it. I love how you combined his aggressive thoughts and big, red feelings with something so tender, so beautiful, so soft. Ugh the duality of man. The power of a writer.

"He’s good at pushing feelings down, good at turning them away from the sunlight like faded pebbles. But this is different. It’s a different kind of hurt.

It’s unresolved, it’s an open wound. It’s you. And it’s every time he hears REO Speedwagon, every time he pulls a flannel over his shoulders and catches the scent of your perfume on it, every time he’s flicking through the TV and catches a flash of a hospital setting, it’s a pair of hands deep inside the wound, pulling it a little wider.

It aches. It stings and it aches and it winds.

And then he turns the pebbles around. Back to the shade. Over and over and fucking over." You have created such strong visuals throughout this whole chapter and i dont know if this was hard for you to write, but i feel so proud of you! I dont know how you felt during the writing process of this chapter, if it was tiring, or aggravating, or infuriating, but i can just imagine the sheer amount of joy and catharsis i would get from putting a period at the end of the last sentence here. The way you compared joel pushing down and hiding his feelings, something so vulnerable, to the pebbles metaphor, something so firm, and hard, and solid, is astounding to me. But its a contrast as much as it is the same thing. Especially because those feelings are as solid as pebbles. Especially because they can bruise you and scrape you up like pebbles can. And if you step on them, it only hurts you. I love your writing.

Also, sarah is so sweet in this chapter and i loved her reaction to seeing joel having a hard time. So so sweet.

"He’s staring at the end of your bed. Thinking about you under him, gripping onto his shirt, his hand between your legs. The very first time. And every other fucking time since then. Which one was the threshold? Who pushed who?" ���POETRY

"As he passes the stairs, he pauses. Leans on one foot, head tilted to listen out for any sound of life. Any fucking sound – the creak of a floorboard, the squeak of a door handle. Anything to keep him here. Anything." MY HEART IS BROKEN. THIS BROKE ME. I AM GONE. I AM NO MORE. Put these words under "cause of death".

TL;DR: you. are. a. genius. Thank you for this chapter, thank you for this series, it is one of my favourites, and to quote you: i have no idea what youre laced with, but you got me.

(pls keep in mind that im writing this while running on no sleep, i hope you can understand everything, english is not my first language so i hope i expressed myself clearly and was articulate enough)

i have sat on this ask for 2 days now and i keep coming back to read over it and cry a little more each time. i cannot begin to tell u how appreciative i am of this 🥺🧡

there are few feelings that hit as fucking hard as receiving messages like this and reading how much someone has connected with something you've written...so thank you thank you thank you. it means the world and more. i don't even know what to say

[macfrog]

if i understood anything in life the way you understand joel, you just get him, i would be fucking unstoppable your characterization is always top notch, and with every new series you write, he always feels different, but still he's so completely joel and i eat it up every time i wish you the happiest of birthdays, i appreciate you and i'm so incredibly happy we share this space, thank you for being here <3

alright, friend. i've had a super busy super emotional day today; i'm pmsing, a baby smiled at me on the train this afternoon, i've been in a birthday cake coma all evening, and you just made me burst into tears dang flabbit (the good kind !!!)

this is so wonderfully sweet and such a beautiful compliment to receive for a character i love so much. i am so honored that you guys like what i post, because it truly is a massive source of joy and respite for me to write these stories. joel is comfort character #1 for me so the thought that he translates this well for so many of you means the fucking world to me you have no idea dude.

i'm so glad you're here!!! i'm so thankful for all of you. thank you for sending me this message. i am going to hold onto it forever and ever and one day get it tattooed on my arm. i love love love you