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tamelee · 1 month

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I love your artwork, it's so cool! I'm an amateur in art, do you have any tips? Thank you!

Thank you so much! 💕 And sure! (Have you seen my other posts as well?) It’s a bit easier when it’s more specific >< But I’ll try my best;

- Keep notes about the things you want to learn as you draw! Someone gave me a tip to have an art-goal so you know what to work on and then improve these particular things as you go, but for some reason I found it really hard to set these goals? (Am I the only one?) I kept thinking I just wanted to ‘improve’ everything, but that’s not very tangible and I can’t effectively measure whether I’ve succeeded… (it’s also not always easy to see your own improvements… at least I rarely can ><)

But when you draw and you come across these little things that make you go “hm, I wish this was easier” or “I really love this sketch I made, but I’m not sure how to go about coloring it”, anything like that— then your desires regarding your art or your process become a lot more specific, right? Write these down! What specifically would you like to improve on?

I’ve noticed for myself and many others talked about it as well that once a piece is done, it’s like you forget a lot about the process and your mind is set on a new project. (Also, yay! You were in the zone~) You can either use your current project as practice (all of them are in a sense, really) or start a new one later, research what you need (on YouTube, books, or perhaps a course from an artist you really like if you can afford it) and work on your goal!

- Also keep notes for any ideas you may have. We always think we’ll remember something and then we don’t. These sudden, often spontaneous glimpses you receive seemingly out of nowhere can be some of your best and it’s a shame if they fade back into the void. This also applies to anything that inspires you.. it can really be anything. I think I’ve said this before, but if you do this, try and organize a bit. Otherwise you’ll end up with a bunch of notes that’s more overwhelming than anything else.

You can use folders to keep images, notes, a dedicated Notion page perhaps or if you can afford it, keep an extra external SSD for this.

- Well, this also applies to research or video’s you’d like to watch. If you end up with too many tutorials or books, or they aren’t goal-oriented specific to your art desire, it may get really hard to get you started on something. If you’re like me and it’s hard to focus, I’d highly recommend taking some time to sit back, think about the thing you really want, organize and structure a way towards it and go. That way you don’t have to make all these decisions along the way— you know what to do already, it’s written right there!

- And that also applies to tools and brushes xD I know it’s really fun to download all of it because many are free and what if there’s ever a time you may need this specific texture on a brush? What if you can’t get this style that inspired you with the brushes you already have? But truth is, you don’t need them all and if you do, you’ll notice there are many you won’t even touch. And well… as you can see in my art as well, apart from the pencil ones, it doesn’t necessarily encourage consistency if that’s what you strive for. If you want to practice, most often the basic round brush will do, the less opacity or blend, the more you can practice shapes and clarity. In that case I’d stay away from the airbrush whenever possible.

- Depending on the program you use (CSP has their own), you can use these to help you with facial angles, or this if you rather prefer a basic skull. You can use the site if you can’t get the angles quite right for many things.

- For coloring I highly recommend James Gurney’s articles or book ‘color and light a guide for the realistic painter’, even if you’re not a realistic painter, it still contains most (all?) of what you need to know about color.

- A great way to experiment is to just… open a blank document and do whatever. I know it often feels like you have to draw something (preferably something good), but you can actually learn a lot by just scrabbling away. Here’s also often where you find the things you feel like you need to improve. Certain angles are especially hard for me, but I hadn't known that if I didn't try >< Oh, I also found this site by accident and I haven't read it all, but it covers many subjects! Hope these are helpful! 🌷

#asktamelee #art talk #art tips

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sergeantgoggles · 26 days

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(ok just one more. i really love them all) kiss prompt: 💗 slow kiss / gentle kiss / inevitable / soft dealer's choice <3

I chose the CSP-born quatrefoil, but in the actual Star Wars verse and not in an AU. Dealer's Choice: Hunter/Tech/Echo/Fives

Fives/Echo

Echo sighs, takes a sip of caffe, reads the Imperial reports again. Comm chatter is going insane over the stolen intel they took from Dantooine. Really, what business did they have all the way out there? Not that it matters now. They had found the resistance’s best kept secret.

Soft footfalls catch his ears, timid, nervous, and Echo frowns. He doesn’t blame them because he’s nervous, too. It’s been a long time, and in the interim Echo had moved on, had found himself a third in the relationship between Clone Force 99’s squad leader and pilot, and it’s been good, even if they’ve parted ways for now.

Finally, Fives comes into view, his own caffe in hand, quietly sits beside him, and sighs. His presence is nice, familiar, and it’s so easy to fall back into old routines, to lean his head on Fives’s shoulder and just listen to him breathe, but there’s a lot to discuss.

“We should talk,” he says, and feels Fives hum in agreement. “I’m seeing someone else, two someones, actually.”

Fives barks a laugh, startling them both, then clears his throat. “I’m…not surprised. There was someone, after you, before I had to drop off the grid. Can’t be mad at you for moving on when you thought I was dead when I did the same thing, you know?”

There’s a beat of silence, then, “Does that mean you can’t love me anymore?”

Echo picks his head up, looks Fives in the eyes, frowns. “I have to talk about it with them, but I’ll always love you, Fives. I never stopped.”

Their eyes meet, and Echo knows that they’re going to kiss, and it’s going to seal his fate. If he has to choose, he’ll choose Fives every time. As soon as their lips connect, Echo knows he’s damned. Fives tastes exactly how he remembers, feels as warm and invigorating as the sun on a tropical beach, and he makes a mental note to tell him all about the island with the giant crabs and the mission that Wrecker botched by waking the pod.

“I want to meet them,” Fives says softly, “if for no other reason than to thank them for taking care of you.”

Echo smiles into his lips and melts. An idea starts to form.

Hunter/Tech

“You’re awfully moody today,” Hunter comments with a frown as Tech works around him. He can’t quite figure out what Tech is working on, though, because the ship-wide diagnostic didn’t yield any results, and Tech hadn’t been adamant about the little maintenance things until a few days ago. Suddenly it was all he could focus on. It was…unnerving.

“Are you listening to me?” He ventures again.

Tech scoffs. “Unless you have intel about another mission, please refrain from speaking to me. I have a long list of repairs and upgrades that are not going to make themselves.”

Stormy eyes widen as Hunter frowns. “Hey, don’t make me pull rank with you. Tell me what’s wrong so I can help.”

“Well, if you insist, you can start by finding the spanner wrench that has once again grown legs and gone missing from my toolkit,” Tech says with a bite. “I will need it for—”

“I’m not talking about the ship, Tech,” Hunter sighs and takes Tech by the wrist, pulling him away from his work and forcing their bodies flush. “You’ve barely said a word to anyone in days.”

Hunter can pinpoint the change in Tech’s demeanor to right after their last conversation with Echo, after he told them that they found the operative they’d been looking for. That operative just happened to be Echo’s thought-to-be-dead partner, and there was the unspoken “we need to talk” that had been laced into their conversation.

Tech makes a frustrated noise that Hunter understands. Gently, he cups Tech’s cheek, draws him into a kiss, and slowly, intimately maps the lines of his lips, his jaw, his tongue, until he has Tech forgetting why he’s upset. It feels nice, though, knowing someone so well that their bodies can heal one another’s wounds, at least temporarily.

“We’re almost to Teth. Let’s hear him out. Whatever happens, nothing changes between us, understand?” Hunter breathes, lets Tech feel his words, taste them and hear them.

“Yes, that is fine,” he agrees, even if it is reluctant.

Hunter/Fives

Things do not go as expected. If Hunter had credits to bet, he would have bet against this ever happening, much less so fast, so quickly.

Thinking back on it, he wonders if any of them really put long-term thought into this, or if they were all just desperate to stay together and make it work. In the same vein, something pulls at his chest, and he doesn’t think he’d change anything. Last night had been…incredible. Tech had looked so good between two former ARC Troopers, mouthing and panting against Echo’s neck while Fives sweetly fucked him, whispering teasing little things to Fives as Hunter pressed into him and made him moan their names.

A pleasant thrill races up his spine as he’s drawn out of the memory by lips on his neck. He trills as Fives trails kisses along his naked shoulder, then tips Hunter’s head back to claim his lips. He’s a bold one, like Echo. It’s no wonder they were the best in their squad at the height of the war, but Fives’s kisses are different. Echo kisses with deliberate movements, always with the desire to elicit a reaction, but Fives seems to move because it feels good, willing to take his time. Hunter finds it easy to relax into Fives’s lips, and moans softly at how freeing it is to simply let go.

The sun crests over the horizon, and Hunter hums, almost chasing his lips as the spell starts to break. “What now?”

“Whatever you and Tech want,” Fives answers, “the sex was fun, and I’m happy to keep doing that, but I know there are feelings involved, and…”

Fives trails off, but Hunter knows. “I don’t know if we’ll have an answer right away.”

Another long, sweet kiss, and then Fives presses their foreheads together. “Take your time.”

Echo/Tech

Fives gives them space. Echo is grateful.

Night rolls in. The day has been kind, thankfully, and the awkwardness has been at minimal levels, but this isn’t Echo’s first time in dealing with Tech. There’s an abundance of new information for him to process, and he can tell that by the end of late meal, he’s overwhelmed.

Hunter moves to follow him out for some air, but Echo stops him with a gentle hand on his chest. “Let me.”

He finds Tech sitting not far from the entrance of the base, nose in his datapad, scanning for stars knows what, but that’s how Tech works, especially when there’s a lot to sift through.

“Mind if I join you?”

Tech lifts his head, and it’s obvious that he’s expecting Hunter, not him. Still, he doesn’t deny him, and nods as he makes room beside him, but doesn’t offer anything else. Silence hangs between them as the sun starts to set, but Echo is patient. He’ll wait all night if he has to because this is important to him. Tech is important to him.

Finally, Tech puts his datapad aside and frowns. “I do not know what you expect me to say. We came here to discuss how things should progress now that Fives has come back from the dead, so to speak, but we have not conducted any actual conversation about the issue.”

Echo sighs. He knows this is the hardest part, laying out exactly what he wants for Tech to examine and find all of the flaws in. He clenches his fist and looks up at him. “I don’t know how to have this conversation, because no matter what angle I look at it, I’m the one being selfish, but I want all of you in my life. I love Fives, Tech. I always have, and I always will. Even when…I still loved him.”

“But he is back now,” Tech says, and Echo can tell he’s trying to be positive, for his sake, because it’s good and happy and they should all be happy about this, “is there really much else to discuss?”

“Yes!”

Both are stunned at the outburst, but Echo recovers first by taking Tech’s hand in his and holding tightly. “…I love Fives, but I love Hunter, and I love you, too. I don’t want what we have to go away because Fives is back.”

“…But you left,” Tech counters, “and Hunter and I have been supportive of you wanting to remain in the fight, but it has put a strain on our relationship.”

Our, meaning between him and Hunter, our, being between them and Echo.

“…I thought that our arrangement was enough,” Echo admits quietly.

Tech falters, frowns, then kisses Echo slowly. It’s the way Tech’s breath stutters, the way there’s the smallest hint of desperation in the way their tongues slide together, then dies when realization settles. They part, and Tech takes his hand from Echo’s grasp and stands, hiding his face.

“It is not.”

Hunter/Echo

“We don’t know him enough to love him the way we love you.”

And that’s what Hunter had been alluding to that morning with Fives, what Tech had failed to communicate with Echo during their talk that left them freshly wounded and vulnerable. He stands with his arms crossed, eyes pleading for Echo to understand that this isn’t as easy as ‘we slept together so that solves everything.’

“But I know him!” Echo yells like that should be enough.

Hunter frowns, shaking his head. “How did you think this would go? Did you think that we would join you here? Were you going to give up the fight and come back with us to live away from the Empire?”

Those aren’t even a fraction of the questions that Hunter has for him, but he tries to be understanding because it’s Echo, because he loves him.

Echo doesn’t answer him because Hunter already knows the answer.

“You have a choice to make,” Hunter says softly, kindly.

“Stay, please,” Echo begs, just for a little while, just to get to know him. I promise you, he’s worth it.”

Hunter’s heart aches. “I know he is. You wouldn’t love him so fiercely if he wasn’t. I have no reason to believe he isn’t as amazing as you say he is.”

“Then stay—”

“This isn’t our fight, Echo,” Hunter says more firmly. “We have Omega to think about, and Wrecker and Crosshair. We’re tired of fighting. We just want to live our lives, find who we are outside of being a soldier.”

It’s a stalemate, neither of them willing to bend.

Until Echo stands, closes the gap between them, lays his head on Hunter’s shoulder the way he does with Fives, and laces their fingers together. “…We’ll visit regularly. I don’t want things to end between us, but if you’re willing to give him the chance to be a part of us, I’m willing to put in the work. We’ll keep you out of the fight as much as possible, and you can get to know him outside of a rebel base. Hunter, please…”

Fives/Tech

“Hey, wait up!”

Tech stops at the foot of the ramp, looks confused for a moment before he realizes that Fives is talking to him. He stops, catching his breath and panting as he seems to have run a long distance, then stands again with a grin that, admittedly, makes Tech’s heart skip a beat.

“Is there something wrong?” Tech inquires.

Fives waves his hand. “No, no! I heard from Echo just now that you agreed to the arrangement he proposed to Hunter.”

“I did,” Tech nods, unsure of where this is going. “It is the most logical solution to all of the problems that have risen since your return.”

A guilty flush settles on Fives’s cheek. “I’m sorry…for causing trouble for you all. I didn’t even know he was alive. When I ‘died’, he…”

Tech sighs. He knows all of this already. “No, I am sorry. You had no way of knowing, and it is not something I fault you for anyway. I…agreed…because my feelings for Echo are rather strong, and I know how much you mean to him.”

He pauses, then offers Fives a small smile. “And anyone that Echo loves is a welcome presence. It is true that Hunter and I do not know you personally, but we have heard much about you, and it is because of how Echo and the others have spoken about you that we want to know you and give this a chance.”

Fives’s flush turns to one of embarrassment, and he chuckles sheepishly. “He spoke that highly of me?"

"As often as he could," Tech comments, and his posture eases.

It’s his downfall.

Suddenly Fives is closer, fingers tipping his chin up just slightly, and lips covering his. It’s a focused kiss, careful not to be demanding or expectant, but enough that Tech knows that he means the emotions that are behind it, and he lets Fives kiss him thoroughly. It’s nice, letting someone new know your kiss in a healing way.

“Thank you,” Fives whispers as they part, “for taking care of him and giving me a chance.”

Tech hums, chases his lips for another, more chaste kiss and to feel the scratch of his goatee on his chin again. “I look forward to your first visit.”

Fives chuckles, keeps him close as he kisses him one more time. “Likewise.”

#cloneshipping #clone shipping #the bad batch #hunter/tech/echo/fives #heart prompts clone edition #clone/clone #clonecest #tbb tech #tbb hunter #tbb echo #tbb fives

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facelessxchurch · 5 months

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Baronpine for the ask meme?

Short version: They are perfect counterparts. They are the same where it matters, but opposites in a way where they can complete each other and mellow out each other's worst traits. They also bicker like an old married couple and I love it-

The most interesting thing is their journey from rivals to soulmates tbh <3

[Yeah I changed the Baron design a bit to fit those lovely HeroForge pics of Baron better that an anon sent me. Nef is wearing a red cravat to show off that he belongs Baron now, it's the little things how he shows affection- Also grabbed myself a new CSP brush ([AA] Ink BrushContent ID：1736762) and it's hella nice for more chunky line art .]

Long Version: Them calling each other their "insufferable counterpart" is still from old roleplays I did ages ago (I was roleplaying as Nef) and it still makes my shipper heart weak. It's so perfect for them as it doesn't only show off their constant affectionate bickering but also pretty much spells out the appeal of the ship: they are counterparts that perfectly complete each other from personality to fighting style.

They are the same where it matters: fighting for the same goal, serving the same gods, both highly intelligent and capable, equals in rank and competence.

But opposites where they can complete each other and mellow out each other's worst traits. Baron is usually a stick in the mud, but Nef makes him loosen up and be more sociable. He's able to relax and laugh with him. Meanwhile, Baron makes Nef chill out on the being-an-evil-little-shit aspect of his personality. He isn't as needlessly cruel and does show mercy (usually in form of a quick kill) when Baron is around. While he revels in the cruelty of war he knows the things they have to do burden Baron more than he lets on. So he'd rather take over the dirty work and let Barontake the role of the honourable, brave general he was always meant to be. He does love that about Baron after all, his honour. It's such a rare thing in the upper echelons of the church filled with socialites that neither Nefarian nor Mevolent truly trust. But Baron? You can trust him, you can rely on him and Nefarian appreciates such a rare quality that of course must be fully indulge in, that lovely man is his now-

Baron is a little too trusting of his fellow zealots *coughdiableriecough*, but Nef makes up for it by being twice as distrusting. No one dares backstab Baron while Nef is there, and if they try anyway, Nef will teach them a lesson before they get anywhere close to Baron. Meanwhile, Nef is getting emotional support from Baron he can't get anywhere else. He's probably the only one around who cares about him and his well-being. Enough so to try and softly guide him away from his bad habits: alcohol, sex, cigarettes and overworking. Baron is Nef's rock in the storm and the healthiest relationship he can have even if it's not the healthiest Baron can have. He knows Baron deserves better than him, but Nef has always been a selfish man...

On the battlefield, Baron is one of the strongest fighter, a skilled and incredible fast swordsman. Since Nef is a glass canon and relies heavily on magic, I headcanon he prefers ranged attacks. Fighting them together must be an impossible task (think Ornstein and Smough from Dark Souls).

But since I love the drama™ how they went from rivals to soulmates it the most interesting part to me.

Nef took an interest in Baron first. He knew him through his friendship with China, Baron's boss, and thought him to be quite physically attractive, but grew intrigued about him when China told him about his personality and found out that he and Eliza had been dating. Nef gathers intel about everyone who rises to the upper ranks but it's rare for him to be fascinated by a specimen.

Meanwhile, Baron absolutely despised Nef. He didn't like that a convert was Mev's right-hand man, especially one that didn't seem particularly pious. Someone of old blood, someone of Baron's own heritage would be a much better fit for that position. Add to that that he's in the beginning still in denial about being gay yet out of all people he ends up being attracted to Nefarian. As if it wasn't bad enough that Nef is quite an attractive man, he also thought it was absolutely hilarious to flirt and tease Baron every chance he got. And that was driving Baron mad in more ways than one.

Essentially the dynamic from the tweet below 👇 Nef loves being a lil shit and Baron is making it too easy lmao

Here is my fic about their first kiss .3.

Essentially their relationship went from rivals to Nef teasing Baron until it ends in hatefucking, Baron slowly realising that Nef actually has feelings for him and isn't just using him to get off and finally (when Baron becomes the second general) learning to appreciate each other when Baron realizes Nef is just as devoted as him and him 'slacking off' is the result of Mev completely over working Nef.

#Nefarian Serpine #Baron Vengeous #Baronpine #skulduggery pleasant #meme answer #artwork #my stuff #answered #anonymous #these keep getting way too long #everybody who actually makes it to the end deserves a medal

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katputze · 1 year

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This drawing is stirring up …something… on instagram.

Basically people are arguing about her tits. Some love them, some say they ruin the whole picture.

Someone even commented „Your old style was so good, but this new one I‘d okay“. I don’t know what they mean by „I‘d okay“ but it still hurt me and like… I KNOW. Idk what happened, why I don’t draw as good as I used to. I mean I did downgrade from Photoshop to CSP but is that really the only reason?

Whatever. It’s not even that deep.

I like drawing my skinny catgirl with giant boobies and if people don’t like it then they can just unfollow.

After all this time I finally enjoy drawing again and I won’t let nobody take that away from me.

Periodt.

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hazel2468 · 1 year

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Someone needs to take the Add (Glow) setting on CSP away from me I'm having to much fun with it.

#my art #digital art #CSP #homemade blorbo #Avery #WIP

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tomyo · 1 year

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Hi there, I uploaded a lot of comics tonight so I thought I'd just give some info on things no one care about!

So I'm trying to get my eggs in order lately. My therapy comics had kinda been a big practice into being better towards my page layouts in general while also just trying to emotionally vomit hard shite. Admittedly they are also in part just to have a comic portfolio of some sort for event marketing. Tonight was mostly part 1 of working to empty out my backlog but I still have a few left. First what's actually been on the back burner; two 8+ pagers that are kinda foundational to all these since one is a redraw of essentially the first therapy comic and the other was a metaphorical peeling back of the layers of the stages of my mental illness journey to find the start of it. It would've only been those two but tonight I ended up sketching two more 1 pagers, a two pager from when a glass ceiling lamp smashed on my head, and a four pager.

In general my work is in a weird transition, my autobio comics are skewing slightly towards more queer stories and I'm debating taking up another slightly longer project later this year about how even realizing I was gay at 19 felt kinda behind everyone else. There's also been a semi joke story Top Quest which I don't know if I even have the balls to properly work on it. Outside of that my hope is to move onto more fictive stories properly.

Do You Need Love? Is my oneshot I came up with in 2019 thats taken me an ass load of time mostly because I struggle to design the MC fully. The concept is a new customer to a coin op professional cuddling booth; philosophical debate ensues!

Her Tanlines Catch My Eye was supposed to be an even easier one shot because it was August last year and I was gay but my understanding of CSP slowed me down a little on it. It remains to be seen if I'll pick it up again.

'Middle School Zine' is a little bit of a hybrid of a story from each year of being in middle school as a weeb mixed with the 'Naruto Doujinshi' I tried to make in the 8th grade story (it's peak cringe and pick me at points despite being a whole 6 pages).

And then finally is the actual big project I've been sitting on waaaaay too long.

Natural Disaster's Agape was something that's really been sitting around for a while. It's the story of what if someone gave into making every wrong impulsive decision. Gale is a dumb angry lesbian with too much baggage that she doesn't deal with. Her only experience with therapy was being forcibly hospitalized, she self medicates on her friend's meds and drugs, and she causes a lot of unneeded fights. Its hard to sell it beyond that without giving away much more than she gets a girlfriend and they are the worst uhauling, shameless pda ing, couple anyone has ever seen but I can say I'm going for the feeling of a Greek tragedy. NDA has been roughly 40-50% outlined but also always struggled at the character design phase which isn't helped by the fact I keep putting it off for "when I finish all my other shorter projects" which never happens.

As it is, currently it's "a bunch of time sensitive for max effectiveness" charm season that will likely come first but my hopes are that maybe I can finish DYNL in time for Valentine's Day (even though it isn't a love story), maybe try to get the middle school zine done in April and then try to make room to give my attention to NDA the rest of the year (alongside the soul eater plushies which probably mostly just need production back and forth and campaigning to raise the money).

Anyway that's all

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m0e-ru · 1 year

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art summaries from this year and the last !! 21-22 !!

and here's some more commentary for 2022 because i will be more annoying this year

January - not a lot happening. i was asking for art reqs and NO ONE had ideas

February - MOEL SEKIYU TUMBLR BRANCH TOHRU ADACHI BIRTHDAY CELEBRATION?

March - 3/20 YEAH WAHOOO YEAAAH

April - lots of messing around this month. my merch came in the mail though !!!

May - PXDN ERA but i answered the teddie in a dress ask from like. two months prior

June - * didnt post this anyway i was messing around with csp. i really like the marker

July - * DIDNT POST THIS EITHER but one idol's stage costume looked like sho colors. it was funny in the moment

August - * DIDNT FUCKING POST THIS EITHER I HAVE NO IDEA anyway i just think theyre very important

September - * HOW MANY BIG PIECES HAVE I NOT BEEN POSTING HERE WHAT THE FUCK WHERE DO I EVEN SHARE THEM ANYWAY MAKING THIS WAS REALLY SAD CHIZUSAN WAS RETIRING AND DELETED HER SOCIALS ohh right my mimbot

October - I was trying out watercolors (the brush) and MARIE HALLOWEEN 2022 !!!

November - pocky day :] except it's jagariko

December - new year's art !! ive been wanting to draw blorbo to sogabe's new year art from the manga so here it is !!! sorry for no christmas holiday art

and here’s the love letter ive been meaning to write all the way back in august. it’s a bit personal but also vague . I am speaking from a soapbox next to a quiet intersection and pouring my heart out

im happy to see how ive improved throughout the years, and in some aspects stayed completely the same apparently. ve been jumping around 1000 brushes and 10000 more art styles ive never stayed consistent because I wanted something new and all I had was myself ! so apparently it became whatever happened here.

It’s true I had a lot more steam last year when it came to pumping art out but I think im also glad I did less art this year in a way. I’ll admit a lot of last year was fueled by chasing people and a way to reach the top and get my voice heard I felt like I was fighting for my life but im not too sure how it looked like from the outside. It’s also been fueled by spite which made me incredibly tired and something im glad I stopped utilizing this year. That I learned my boundaries and maintained them as peacefully as I am now.

Sure im a lot more tired but I think the pace im taking is a bit better in it’s own way too. I really wish I could’ve done more this year but when I look at it from afar I guess im still chasing things, too. Maybe not something new and I never really aimed for fame or anything. Maybe I just wanted to keep what I already have?

2021 I’ll confess was also a pile of shit and I guess 2022 was the year of my digging it all away and I’m not done yet. But as long as there’s progress that’s good enough for me. I’m glad I’ve been able to do all these things than not do them at all. But sometimes I wish I could relearn the restraint I had from before.

I never wanted to put a dark stain on the things I love so as long as I ground myself and remind myself why im here I can see the light and remember why I love theses things. I’m speaking in a very vague manner and I am relating this to my time in fandom as cheesy as it sounds, but also personally, I guess.

Imagine it like im talking on a soapbox right now when I say im really glad for the time I’ve spent here—while all of it isn’t the best that could’ve happened and the fault of my own shortcomings—I still treasure it. I love all the people I’ve met and the community I’ve formed and I guess there’s this fear of losing things since I’m afraid I can’t get them back, that I haven’t learned how to even connect better anymore. I really dont want this to sound like someone died lol but I really am genuinely grateful for all the time ive spent with people and how they considered me their friend and how theyre my friend and how they just moved on to other things and im stuck in a box ive put myself in that makes it so hard to be heard I stopped talking anyway.

To those who met me this year, or last year, or the year before that, or knew me before this gas station, and still are here somehow: thank you. For your kindness, for your tags, for your asks, for your replies, for your messages, for your discords, for your writing, for your art and for everything you’ve offered me. I always mean my gratitude from the bottom of my heart and I want to stop being afraid that it doesn’t show.

If this year brings more “Mim” then so be it. I’m happy you find joy in the silly nickname and all the love behind it no matter how silly it is. And even if I drift away or we all drift apart, I treasure every memory and sometimes cry over it at night. I wish 2023 would be nice to all of us and the years after.

#kommento #arttag #// sorry for the sob story when i said id pour my heart out i didnt think id get that far #// well even if you dont read it . it's like a sealed letter you can keep like a lucky charm or something i like to think #// that theres a lot of love inside it's just radiating #// sorry just prepping for the horrors now that the holiday season is over im really distressed #// but i thank you all for the year and that i hope you get better that i get better no matter how little that better is #// i just hope it's a lot.#// and i will literally keep saying the same thing 100000000000 times and mean it every single time

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faeassassin · 3 months

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I forgot.

TW: childhood abuse

I've been saying for years "at least I wasn't beaten as a child".

I could never forget the emotional abuse. I could never forget the sexual abuse.

But I forgot the physical abuse. Not the spankings that were considered harmless and good parenting in the late 70s and early 80s when I was a young child and I had to be hit for my own good. Those never put me in the hospital.

A few weeks ago, I was talking about a recurring pain I get that shoots down my left arm, and I've had it since I was a child. Nerve pain. It's fairly random, but it really strikes when I'm under stress. Thanks to wild assumptions by my grandma, I wondered for years if it was heart related, but that never seemed right. Still, my anxiety fed off of it and made it worse.

It's this nerve pain that takes my breath away. It makes me stop everything until the pain stops, because that pain is my whole world for a moment. Then it goes away.

Anyway, I was mentioning it to my dad, and he reminded me.

When he was in the Army, stationed in Germany, my mom lost her temper a lot. She was very young, and she was all alone with two children, and I think she assumed her extended family up in Utah would help her more than they did.

What I never forgot was going to the VA, and my left arm wasn't working because it was dislocated, and it hurt a lot. The nurse was a man, and he very kindly helped me put my arm into place without hurting it worse, and he was proud of me for being so brave. I remember saying, "That was easy! Can you show me how to do it myself in case it happens again? I don't want to go to the hospital again." I didn't mean "again" by that time. What I didn't forget was that I was talking about a previous time my arm was dislocated, and putting it back in socket had hurt a LOT. This came with a vague recollection of going down the stairs, and fear, and pain.

My dad said, "Well, that pain might be because you dislocated your arm a few times when you were little, living with your mom. That was bound to leave some damage."

It unlocked a world full of memories.

I was 18 months old when my dad's best friend risked (and gave up) that friendship to call the police on my mom. We lived in Glendale, AZ. My mom and my grandma (my dad's mom) both said that "someone" had called CSP for neglect and filthy living conditions. There were dirty diapers piled up to waist height in the room my sister and I shared. When my grandma tried to clean up the diapers, cockroaches scurried up the walls, climbed over each other to the ceiling, and fell into the crib my sister and I shared. They had 24 hours to clean it up, and it wasn't enough time, so my mom fled the state with us to live with her mom in California.

But that's not what happened.

My dad's best friend called the police because he suspected my sister and I were being abused, and he was right.

My literal earliest memory has always been that day. I was potty trained by that age, but my sister wasn't, and since we were driving from Phoenix to Buena Vista, my mom put me in one of my sister's diapers. I was sad, I was scared, I was angry, I was tired, I felt insulted, and I didn't have the words to express any of it. We got to my other grandma's house and I was hungry and I was put in a high chair that was too small and I flailed my arms as my grandma put my milk down and it spilled all over my food. I was immediately terrified because I expected to go hungry at best, beaten at worst. And my grandma, bless her, said the first words I'd ever remember clearly. "There, there. There's no use crying over spilled milk." She then laughed, and hugged me tight, and I cried harder for a moment, and then I calmed down. I wasn't being blamed. I was given more food. And I think I was finally taken out of the diaper right after that, but my memories are fuzzy after that. I was a toddler. And I was finally safe for the moment.

I know how young I was, because when I was 13 my mom and my sister and I were talking about our earliest memories and when I told her that she insisted I didn't really remember that. "You would have been 18 months old. Nobody can remember being that young." I started going into detail, and she went pale, then changed the subject.

That memory is vivid, but I've mined it several times because there was so much that I just didn't understand. Why was I so scared? Why had I been put in a diaper? Why was I expecting to be in trouble for ruining my food? When I was little I'd take out that memory and only think about the good parts and see it on a surface level. The "spilled milk" adage gave it some staying power because whenever someone else said it the link was reinforced. But I still wondered about some of the discomfort that lived alongside those words. (I was given a yellow Tupperware sippy cup, and I vaguely remember peas and carrots with animal crackers being drenched in the milk. No one should have a memory that vivid from that age last this long unless it's wrapped in some pretty deep trauma...which I've pieced together over the years that it was.)

There were other pieces of memories that point to the abuse. My mom mentioned when I was 8 that she'd stopped hitting us kids with anything but her hand after she broke her hairbrush spanking my sister. When questioned about it, she said she had to back then because our diapers were so thick that we wouldn't feel being hit otherwise. (Also, it wasn't true, because if no one else was around she'd still hit us with wooden spoons. The "bare hand" idea had been my dad's limit, not hers. If he was going to hit us, he wanted to feel the pain of it as well. So, props for trying I guess, but that's the 80s for you.) I told her that it had hurt, and she called me a liar, and again questioned my memory. She honestly thought I'd never remember being that young.

But this pain in my arm? She used to get impatient with me when I wanted to do something myself. I was the big girl, I had to be an example for my baby sister, so I *could* go down those stairs alone even if we were in a hurry. But because I'm blind in one eye I was probably slower than even most kids, lacking depth perception. Yes, I fell down stairs a lot, too. Not this time, however. When I push, I remember being yelled at to hurry up. I remember my mom was carrying my sister, and she yanked me by the arm to pull me the rest of the way down the stairs.

Most of all, through the pain, I remember being coached. Don't tell anyone she pulled me by the arm. If anyone asks, I slipped and her arms were full, and she tried to catch me.

This was normal. This was repeated behavior. I didn't question it this time, because the threat was always that if I told the truth I'd be taken away. And, by the time I went to the VA for that emergency room visit I remember clearly, we were living in Utah and family was *forever* and I'd better not do anything to threaten Heavenly Father's great plan for us.

I was coached. It was normal. Because my sister and I were assaulted many times, and my mom had been threatened with CPS many times, had run away with us once already, and I tried to protect my sister and be strong so she didn't have to be, and by the time I was five I was tying together everything in my room with string so that if I closed the door hard enough maybe everything would fall and crush me and I could go to heaven so all the pain and fear and confusion could finally end. When my dad completed his service in the Army, I couldn't let go of him because my mom was different around other people, she wouldn't hurt us around other people, she wouldn't yell at us for things I did but didn't know what I had done wrong around other people, and I felt betrayed when my dad had to go to a job because that meant that there would be HOURS every day when I wasn't safe. But that was NORMAL, and I wasn't allowed to say anything to anyone or I'd be taken away.

The last couple of months I've been looking at all these memories that got stirred up by talking about my arm pain. Putting puzzle pieces together. Because I'd forgotten I'd been physically assaulted by the only caregiver I had from 18 months to four and a half years old. And my poor sister was an infant when all this started. Holy crap, no wonder I was so protective of her.

I mean, my mom's idea of funny stories included me sticking my hands in a popcorn maker at less than a year old and getting blisters all over my hands and that's how I learned the word hot. And just after that healed I reached up and grabbed my dad's razor from the sink and walked up to her with blood gushing from my little hand and said it was hot and she told me it was sharp. She laughed at these things. She laughed that I had a permanent bump on the right side of my forehead because I'd climb over the crib railing, fall onto the hardwood floor, and turn my head to the right so I couldn't see the floor coming. That was FUNNY to her.

No wonder she was also the type to date a man who molested her daughters, encouraged her to molest me, and beat our little brother. No wonder she was the type of person to play innocent when he was caught and arrested. The type of person who punched him when he got out and then married him as if a light tap on the cheek with her fist absolved all their wrongdoing.

A lot more abuse came after. A lot. But I'd been told over and over and over again that I should be glad, thankful, grateful, that at least I'd never been physically abused, so many times that I forgot. I had the memories right there, but that wasn't abuse. That was normal. They insisted that I wasn't abused when I was little until I finally remembered that actually, I was, and I'm old enough that they can't tell me it wasn't abuse anymore.

Nobody wants to read this. Not even me. If you did, God, I am so sorry. If it helps, I'm 49 now. It's long, long in the past, and the monsters can't hurt me now. I haven't talked to my mother in over a decade. I'm finally free and working through it all.

Best of all, I'm still alive. I made it. Through all the pain, depression, anxiety, and suicidal ideation, I'm still here. That bitch didn't win. And she never will. I'm succeeding despite her, not for her or because of her as she always said I would. She didn't make me. I did.

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hardynwa · 1 year

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Police attack, brutalize Silverbird TV Reporter For Filming Riot Incident In Oyo

According to a report by SaharaReporters, some personnel of the Oyo State Police Command have attacked a reporter. The officers, on Tuesday attacked and physically inflicted bodily injury on a Silverbird News24 reporter while on assignment in Ibadan, Oyo State capital. The journalist, John Alabi, while narrating his ordeal after spending about five hours in police detention behind the counter displayed his bruised face. Alabi explained that the policemen numbering about five attacked him while taking photos and making video of them when they were dispersing a rowdy crowd, adding that they took away his phone and prevented him from calling his office. Alabi narrated that “There was mayhem, so as journalists, we are supposed to report incidents. The next thing I did was to use my phone and take pictures of how things were unveiling and how police personnel were trying to curtail the incident. “The next thing I noticed was like five police officers pounced on me, telling me that I was recording them. They beat me with baseball batons and their police batons and I think someone hit me with a butt of a gun too. “While they were beating me, I kept telling them that I’m a journalist but they beat me and injured me a few meters from my eye. They wanted to lock me up but later put me behind the counter. They collected my phone immediately. “That was about 10:30a.m and around 3:30p.m, I pleaded with someone that I wanted to call my wife to tell her where I am. Immediately I collected the phone, the first thing was to snap my picture because I noticed they might ask me to clean up everything so that there won’t be evidence. I snapped the pictures and posted them on the Oyo NUJ (Nigeria Union of Journalist) platform and some other platforms. “My sin (crime) is that I was taking pictures and recording short videos of police officers that were dispersing the crowd. That was what they said I did, that why should I be taking pictures, and I told them that I’m a journalist. I even showed them my ID card. I was holding the flag of my station which was on my mic that was with me which was very glaring that I am a journalist. “When they beat me, my clothes were soaked with blood.” Reacting to the incident, the Force Public Relations Officer, CSP Olumuyiwa Adejobi, said the action of the officers sounded archaic. Adejobi, while saying that the Oyo State Commissioner of Police, CP Adebowale Williams, must have acted on the matter. “This is serious. I am sure the CP Oyo, Adebowale Williams, must have acted on this. This sounds archaic because it's been a long time since I heard such. Police brutalise journalist on line of duty. Anyway, we are bound to have exceptional cases like this. Police and press are the same o,” the Force spokesperson said. Efforts to get the reaction of the Oyo State Police Command on the matter failed as calls made to the Command’s public relations officer, SP Adewale Osifeso, did not go through as the number was not reachable. Also, the Oyo State Police Command has not made an official statement on the matter at the time of filing this report. Read the full article

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