#bc ofc

And I'm busy and I've been at this for so long now jhjdsfhbgsjhdfb whatever, go my V1. It's very fast paced I'm so sorry HBDJFHB

MIND THE FLASH WARNING PLEASE

a lot of people take what they see for granted or hell. even repost it on apps/websites like pinterest with or without credit and its kind of sad to see—not even for myself, but for others also. a lot of people dont realize they just scroll through posts, but liking/reblogging and especially posting little comments or praises when you do ‘like’ it keeps a lot of artists from straight up quitting or leaving websites. it doesnt have to be a masterpiece, even small beginner artists can be helped to keep going by this. every little comment i got helped me get better-ish at art

another thing is the liking every single post without following thing but hey its better than enjoying a post and showing no love to the author of it, but my point is that leaving comments, liking posts, showing you actually like something on any platform should be more normalized

ive seen wonderful artists on here get like 40 notes on the same post they got hundreds of likes for on e.g. instagram, where liking and commenting is more normalized. supporting your authors goes for your tumblr blogs too, y’all

Well Lily, James, Remus, Sirius, Peter, Mary, and Marlene often go out for dinner (or some combination of people from that group) when a babysitter is available for Harry. Not even two minutes after the food arrives, Lily goes, “Dad, Uncle Moony, will one of you pass the butter?” and they all laugh, because it’s like Harry’s there when he isn’t. They laugh about the indelible impact Harry’s had on their life.

He’s there in Lily’s fond words, the yellowish baby formula stain on Marlene’s white shirt, in the bags under James’s eyes, in the drawing of a dark-haired stick figure and a heart that Sirius keeps in his pocket, he’s at the table in every seat.

They clink champagne glasses, “to Harry!”

The clink of James’s glasses as they fall to the floor, a mouth opening in a silent, trapped, eternal scream, and Lily’s guttural yell of “Dad!” She never gets to hear the baby in her arms say Mum, all the training unnecessary.

Training unnecessary, because there would be no “Aunt” for Marlene, killed off quick, Harry would never know she was even a friend. No “Aunt” for Mary, out of the picture one way or another.

The training unnecessary, as Harry meets his uncle for the not-first first time, calls him “Professor”. Remus never thought about the coldness, the distance of the word, and once his first class is over, he sinks into his seat, tears threatening to spill over.

The raw fear in Harry’s eyes, when he meets his other uncle, splits Sirius’s heart in two. They took Harry’s drawing from him, when they locked him up, and they just about took everything else too. He remembers a baby’s tiny laugh, not this terror-stricken, haunted kid that he’d been unable to protect.

Certainly no “Uncle” for Peter, gone almost as quickly as he came back.

When Harry finally knows Remus and Sirius as anything other than a professor and a criminal, there’s no happy laugh, no “Uncle”, just suddenly one grieving man and one grieving boy, one mourning a lost love, both mourning a man who Harry never really got to know. It doesn’t bring Remus and Harry closer together, both too shattered, no room for “Uncle”, only room for war, arguments and deserting and covert operations.

Remus is dead before the ever really make up from their arguments, training gone unused again. Harry whispers “Professor…” at the grave.

Gotta celebrate all the time I’ve spent in the trenches ✨somehow✨

-

Some of the only digital art I’ve done since 2022/23, and I fear the pain/further eye damage was in fact worth it

I mean lOOK at those little lads. I just adore ‘em

-

✨sketches below the cut✨

Sylus in the tub? ..Sylus in the tub. I am what I am.

-