situations need to stop happening to me
if you're like, kasper is posting a lot of cringe tonight i bet he went to a psychologically damaging meeting today. you are correct. someone invited me to a two day "seminar" to learn about congregational care and i was like yeah that sounds like a good tool to have in my toolkit ig. could always use more education about how to listen to people. went to the thingy and they were like. sike this is actually an entire ministry certification. no this is not clinical pastoral education but you will probably be functioning like you have that training so don't fuck up. btw this means your church can and will funnel all their congregational care through you and your team so i hope you are prepared to hear people going through the worst grief of their lives. yes you do have to create this ministry at your church because we trained you for free. do you have questions <3 MORE OF A COMMENT THAN A QUESTION BUT IS IT ETHICAL FOR ME TO BE IN THIS POSITION OF POWER WITHOUT CLINICAL TRAINING? have you prayed today <3 NO!!!!!!!! it's always so amazing how many situations i get into just by being stupid.
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For the WIP title asks:
Rising Tide (which is also a song by Sunny Day Real Estate)!
Tell me, do Kyogre and Groudon meet at the shore to enjoy a nice playdate while Maxie and Archie fight over land/water property lines like the suburban dads they are?
this ask is sending me, oh my lord. thank you--i laughed pretty hard at this :D
and this song is within the time frame of songs i'm referencing in the fic, so that's just perfect! thank you!
"color your skin with gold, and the violence remains
cover your eyes with rose, but the stain remains
will you repair your life
with all the holes you fill?
smother your will and drain you of your passion..."
oh yeah, that's going on the playlist.
as for our beloved suburban dads, i can't say too much without spoiling the last quarter or so of the fic--though i guess i have been pretty transparent about maxie actually succeeding in catching groudon. that's a thing that happens. gonna be mum about the circumstances and implications and fallout of that, though. i'm sure it turns out fine.
as for the wip itself, it's the first chapter of eye of the storm. the title refers to the circumstances that drive may to leave home in the first place--things get to be too much for her.
for a little context about my may, she's 22 at the start of the fic, and had moved out of her parents' house at 18, back when they still lived in johto. she opted to move back in with them temporarily when they moved to hoenn (instead of staying in johto by herself), and it's a choice she starts regretting very quickly. snippet under the cut. i feel like i should add a trigger warning for this as well--it's a bad situation if you've ever been in it before but pretty vague if you don't know what you're looking at. tw for implied emotional abuse, i suppose.
This was bad.
May sat on the carpeted top stair and gripped her empty mug so tightly her knuckles turned white. A faint “godsdammit” floated around the corner that led into the living room and up to her ears. Whatever her mother was fussing with down there had her, to be incredibly mild, extremely pissed off.
This was bad, but it had probably been worse at some point before. Not that May could put a finger on when, exactly; the last four years of solitude had papered over the memory of her mother’s moods with a series of perfectly pleasant lunches and borderline enjoyable outings to the movies. The tone of voice May was catching now, in snippets from the ground floor, was a knife widening the old wound of the six years before that, during their time in Olivine, after their last big move. The first time this had happened, May had been thirteen and stupidly hopeful.
She didn’t have age as an excuse this time.
Did she really need another cup of coffee? She could turn around, tail between her legs, and head back to her room. This one locked, though that might cause her more problems in the long run. She’d already endured the years of formless suspicion about why she kept her door closed all the time, and even that particularly bad summer where the door had been removed entirely. She didn’t need, didn’t want a repeat of that. Something told her the offense her mother would suffer over a locked door would be far greater than over a closed one. Teenagers were just like that, after all. From an adult it would be an insult.
Moving back in had been a massive fucking mistake.
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so. the apartment truly did have a superfluous sink right in the middle of the shower. and there was no place for a bed other than right in front of a large window facing a busy street. and the balcony was nice, but you could have roasted a whole pig in it and it's only a moderately warm spring day.
in a surprise twist the real estate agent also had arranged to show an apartment in the neighboring building right after. (the person who had arranged it and the other person who meant to come see the first place didn't show up.) and it was a smaller but much, much cheaper, with a sensible layout. sixth floor. windows in the kitchen and the bathroom too. wonderfully cool, because the windows face northeast and southeast (corner apartment).
also. for some reason. rent includes four times faster internet than what you usually get to pay for if a building has made its own collective deal. gamer apartment????
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