Scootch to the left

Sequences from my finished animation. Inspired by a dog named Teacake.

Why don't they make stained glass fish tanks? Give those fish Catholic guilt

fascinated by the implication that it's the stained glass that gives catholics the guilt

Reblog if you were born in the 1900's.

last ask made me think about a jessie/delia wedding and delia lowkey freaking out/almost getting cold feet

old fears about marriage coming up uh ohhhh

"...Delia?"

Professor Oak didn't wait for her to answer before entering the room, closing the door softly behind him. "It's time."

Delia swallowed, rubbing her sweaty palms against her white trousers and hoping, too late, that they wouldn't leave a stain. She knew it was time. It was time ten minutes ago. Just like it was time fifteen years ago, back when she was the one wearing the dress. Except today, she couldn't move, couldn't even stand, much less walk down the aisle.

Oak frowned slightly, bushy eyebrows drawing together. He was greyer and his boutonniere was a different colour, but Delia wouldn't be surprised if he was wearing the same tux.

"What's wrong?"

"...I can't do this."

Her voice cracked and she choked back a sob. She was so stupid, doing this now at the eleventh hour, the twelfth hour, she'd been fine all through the run-up and the planning and the rehearsal dinner, why now, Jessie was waiting -

"It's all right."

Oak slid onto the bench next to her. His hands were warm and rough around her own.

"You don't have to," he murmured.

Delia shook her head.

"But everything -"

"You don't have to," Oak interrupted gently. He fished a couple of tissues from the nearby box (thank goodness James had thought to leave some in both dressing rooms) and pressed them into her hand. "Second, there's no need to worry. James has convinced Jessie to be fashionably late."

Delia couldn't help but chuckle at that. She wiped her eyes and looked up at him. Oak smiled and pulled her into a hug.

"Let's you and I figure this out," he suggested.

Delia took a deep breath and let it out. She held onto him, breathing in the aftershave he only wore on special occasions. He'd been her teacher, her support system, her crush (very briefly), a mentor to her son, and most of all her friend. A friend who knew what it was like to marry young, divorce young, and raise kids alone.

"I'm scared," she mumbled. "I love Jessie - Sam, I love her so much - but I loved Jack. I loved Jack and Ash and I weren't enough for him and -"

Oak cut her off before she could spiral any further. "Okay, let's be scientific about this." He pulled back slightly to look at her. "You and Jack were eighteen, and you were..."

"Pregnant," Delia finished.

"And you'd known each other..."

"Six months," Delia answered, understanding what he was getting at. "And now I'm thirty -" she coughed - "and very much not, and we've been a couple for years." She sighed. "I know all that, Sam. It's not helping."

Oak shrugged.

"Fine, forget science," he agreed. "Tell me why you want to get married."

"Jessie really wants to," Delia murmured, gazing down at her engagement ring. "She's dreamed of a big wedding ever since she was a little girl. And I want her to be happy, so..."

"Ah, ah," Oak chided with a smile. "That's a Mom answer. Tell me why Delia Ketchum wants to get married."

Delia paused, the clock ticking softly as she thought back over her relationship with Jessie.

"It doesn't feel right saying 'girlfriend' anymore," she replied.

"You could call her your partner," Oak suggested.

Delia shook her head. "James was her partner. It sounds... Team Rocket-y." Though he did have a point, she had to admit. "...I want us to be a real family."

He cocked an eyebrow. "You aren't a family now?"

Also a point. She and Jessie and Ash were a family. And yet...

"I love how she and Ash spend time together," Delia murmured. "I know they had a rocky start, but..." She looked up at him. "...I swear, Jessie misses him more than I do. She pretends she doesn't, but as soon as she knows he's coming home, everything has to be perfect. And she's the first person he talks to about his adventures. Until she pushes him to go talk to me." Her fear and anxiety continued to wane the more she thought about it. Ash and Jessie talking snake Pokémon (shudder), arguing over who would take the fall over her ruined garden, shamefacedly confessing their daddy-daughter-drag-double battle adventure. Jessie moved to tears by Ash's Father's Day gift. The pair of them exchanging a brief look before Ash explained away his bandaged leg as a bike accident. "I want us to be together forever. And..." She swallowed. "...if anything happens to me... I want them to have each other."

Oak squeezed her shoulder.

"Then I think you should get married," he replied with a smile. "But it doesn't have to be now, or like this."

Delia looked away, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

"Well yeah, but... everyone's here... and there's a great buffet that'll go to waste... and you and I are both wearing tuxedos..."

Oak chuckled.

"For what it's worth," he remarked, "I was against your first marriage. I'm not against this one."

He rose and offered her his hand.

"Walk me down the aisle?" Delia asked. "Again?"

He smiled.

"It would be my pleasure."

i can't find the words

linking the ao3 too

grumpy🦇

oxidized copper is such a beautiful color palette. The rich reds with the cool teals. Such a vibrant combo. No one is doing it like her.

[ID: Photos of an oxidized copper plate, an oxidized copper pipe, and oxidized pennies. End ID]

hello gorgeous do you come here often

Ohh, so I was looking at my storage and found these! I originally shared them on twitter before yeeting the platform. Anyway, feel free to use! Art memes for your oc :D

Friend found this cool template and I had to draw Perun.

Meme template by @rielzero, you rock!!

Ha a lélek vándorlásában hiszünk, el kell fogadnunk hogy ha zenészek voltunk, zenészek maradunk akkor is, ha négy lábbal újraszületünk..

Translation, via Google Translate:

If we believe in the migration of the soul, we have to accept that if we were musicians, we will remain musicians even if we are reborn with four legs.

Wolfgang Malamozart over here like damn

starting a foundation that gives disadvantaged children one wild ass night at the club

Cinderella