#2020 Resolutions

[idle-compy]

@yasammyweek (late) day 3 - prom

full outfits under the cut

[ruthbaderjaneway]

Janeway Januarys

[unproduciblesmackdown]

reminded i have some marble hornets gmx pics saved where, if i didn't already, i'd have no idea how to find them again

pre live s1 dvd commentary ^

ft. ellen mclain! and john patrick lowrie

[owlsie-hoot]

favourite characters → Audrey Hall

"Siegfried is a great believer in mutual care. If you scratch my back, I’ll scratch yours. He’s always felt supported by Mrs Hall, and he’s clever enough not to question the fact that she’s really in charge.

“And he’s wise enough to know that that shouldn’t be questioned. And when he took her in… he’s an iconoclast." (x)

[especiallyhaytham]

Is it just me or do new-engine video games feel like they're getting worse rather than better. Like yeah the textures and physics and FX themselves are improved, but at the same time why does it feel like I'm playing a game from 2001. Something's wrong here.

[imreallyloveleee]

the season 2 finale of the americans is WILD

[innestern]

caption: we drank the blood of some people,

and now i am a wizard!

also rose

[tricksterlatte]

I saw someone on the bird website point out that just because people disagree with a fellow fan doesn't give them the right to bully or harass said fan, especially in such cruel ways (they were body shaming a well known Overwatch person because she shared a selfie, and the hate originated from her opinions on the character).

It's been driving me crazy how people somehow forgot you can disagree with someone's opinions without being an asshole. Why do we condemn bigotry or cruelty when it's directed at our friends, but hurl it out ourselves when opportunity arises to bash someone we dislike? It just makes me so sad.

This isn't about a specific situation but it's a problem i've noticed over the years. I have been both a perpetrator and a victim of this (if I said otherwise, I'd be a liar. I've been on the internet since I was 10 and have been active in multiple fandoms), but I don't want to contribute whatsoever to that type of environment anymore. We have to talk the talk and walk the walk with this one, or we will continue to be miserable. If you dislike something or someone, either communicate if this person is supposed to matter to you or vice versa, or just block them, mute them, unfollow them. Whichever suits your comfort level for whatever the situation may be. If you hate something or someone but still proceed to follow them, check their profile, and grab screenshots or QRTs to make fun of them, whether with petty jabs or actual bigotry and cruelty, you are not only making other people into targets. You are sending yourself into a spiral that will only harm you in the long run.

I know how addicting social media can be. I know how the instant gratuitous relief can feel when you vent about something within an echo chamber. And I don't think the answer is just don't vent, don't misconstrue my words. I think the answer is does this make you happy? I don't think this type of habit makes anyone happy. I know sometimes people change, and I really hope people can and do.

I don't say this as an accusation or to be mean myself, I say this as someone who suffered on my own end, not only from taking the brunt of harassment but also from indulging it on occasion. I used to be horrible about this type of fixation on things I hated within fandom during my prime days in my earliest tumblr fandoms, and I nearly fell into this trap again over the past few years. My irl situation was entering a state of despair, and during those times, without anyone trustworthy that shared these spaces with me and that knew me well in return, fandom felt like the one place where I had a semblance of control. That doesn't excuse belittling people. It never does. A reason is not justification.

It's a special type of hell, for example from my personal experience, to receive dozens of suibait anons about fanfic you published, whether it was from things I left blatantly tagged and easily avoidable, over my writing not being as good as others' within these spaces, or because people admitted they were envious of something outside of my control. Or people making fun of my cosplay photos or treating me as an object to be sexualized, no matter who they were or how they identified. I had old Retrospring anons sent that exploited my vulnerability regarding events only certain groups knew about, trying me during my worst of times. When I vaguely discussed them on other websites, without sharing things being said to protect myself and to not spread drama, I was largely told I was overreacting and to just delete them. Which I did, but they kept coming. I deleted anonymous ways of contacting me and closed off most forms of contact with fandoms other than a few long running places I've known for years (thank you WWD crew you guys are the GOAT). But even so. If I didn't have the person who is now my wife there for me at the right time, I probably wouldn't be here right now. Not everyone experiencing this type of thing has anyone there for them at all.

I have a tendency to ramble, so I'll summarize here: the only type of toxicity that will ever bring people joy is toxic yaoi, toxic yuri, Toxic by Britney Spears, and the Toxic TM from Pokemon. I want to get better myself, and I'm posting this because I hope for the best for anyone who read this. If you disagree with me for this, that's okay too. If you don't think this applies to you, it might not! I don't know you. None of us know each other, which I think should be further incentive to be kind, instead of ample opportunity to be mean. If you have the choice, strive to be kind over the escapism that brings us joy. For some of us, this will be the only kindness we may ever know.

[artbyeloquent]

I saw a lil comic in my archive about not deleting old art, or you won't be able to see how far you've come. I decided to take it a step further and make myself a lil timeline of all the art I've posted on this blog!

ID below the cut.

[ID: A timeline of my art from 2020, with deep purple headers and dark green text on an off-white/sage background.

Title: Eloquent's Improvement Series: 2020 Timeline

May 2020: One of my first paintings of which I remember thoroughly enjoying its process. Even though my style has changed and my grasp on anatomy has improved, the rendering holds up. I'm proud of younger me for this.

The art is of a tan, freckled witch with a golden palette floating in a swirl of golden light. She's wearing a floral sundress and golden platform heels. She's holding onto her sunhat to prevent it from flying off. She is contrasted by a dark navy background.

July 2020: An ArtFight attack. ArtFight always pushes me to innovate in as little time as possible, but it often leaves me feeling that melancholy of "the execution does not match what was in my head." I never draw the left (my OC) in MY [capitalized emphasis] style, always her original designer's, and I'd love to challenge myself to adapt her sometime.

The image is of two pastel goth, white women posing against a chainlink fence. They are blowing bubblegum. Both of their palettes are mainly pink, blue, and black. The first girl is wearing a black halter crop top, pastel miniskirt, mesh leggings, and black combat boots. Her hair is shaved close with only the front bangs fluffy. The second girl has long, blue hair up in a ponytail held back with a baseball cap. Her clothes are baseball uniform-inspired, with a bisected black-pink track jacket, white baseball pants, and black-and-white baseball cleats.

September 2020: Wow I really didn't draw much in 2020. Y'know [gestures at the state of the world and also my life]. But I also had a crippling fear of posting anything that isn't perfectly [sparkles] polished [sparkles], so I'm proud of Past Me for posting it anyway.

The sketch is a monochrome red piece with a flat background. In the foreground, a pointy-eared monster smiles at the viewer, leaning against a railing. He has veins and crystals of garnet sprouting from his eye, neck, and shoulders.

/end ID]

[arabian-batboy]

Rewatching old Pokémon movies and I came to this conclusion:

[poetryofmuses]

Anybody else worried how time is going by so fast, i still haven't moved on from 2020 how are we already in 2023?

[kimwedlock]

Aeonas’ Pass

Estimated reading time: 7 minutes

    The amethyst sky loured over the fells. Snow drifted through the open forest like fragments of ivory, burying the road and outshining the glow of the dying sun, while a thick, creeping fog, both natural and impossible, layered itself over the slopes. The evening was silent but for the thin wheeze of the wind, still but for the sway of bare branches, and beautiful but for the seething black scar running like a river of decay from the horizon.

    There was no living thing for miles around - none at all but the cloaked figure walking at the head of that scar, bleeding it further into the shrouded forest with every lonely, booted step.     The pace was steady, unhurried despite the taint; monotonous and resolute. And while the dreadful scar stretched, the eerie fog fled away, leaving the forest clear behind to gather instead at the lead. There, the cloud thickened, luring and goading the traveller, all while remaining always just one step out of reach.     But Aeonas was too old to be deterred.     Clad in a tattered cloak pulled tight against the cold, patched and stitched with a skill that had grown over ages, Aeonas walked eternal, with a bow and quiver slung over a shoulder, hose strapped with countless satchels, some small and writhing, and a doublet lashed with parchments and journals. And every day, with every thought and every event, that burden only grew. After almost a full year, Aeonas had been reduced to a heavy trudge. And yet still, the never-ending walk continued, through sun, through rain, through frost and snow, while the heading remained lost in a dense, blind cloud.     The frigid breeze briefly picked up, stirring the edges of the fog as a grand stone bridge took shape on the left. As Aeonas stepped past it, it crumbled in a cloud of dust. It wasn't acknowledged with even a glance.     Then an elaborate vase the size of a child emerged on the right, gilded and empty, and burst into flames just as suddenly. It went equally unnoticed.     The bridge and vase melted ignored into the scarred, blurred world at Aeonas's back, though both stood less distorted than their surroundings. Ruined stone and ceramic remained crystal clear and perfectly defined, and with their survival, another pouch upon Aeonas's hip writhed and wriggled. The spider weaving amongst them skittered to secure itself.     But, as always, those old, teal eyes didn't turn down to witness it. Staring blindly ahead, there was no effort within them to try to see even the clouded forms of the trees.     More shapes soon blotched and darkened the heading, and sounds drifted through the muffled air, each unclear until Aeonas finally drew level with them. Then music piped in, flutes and strings to fill a weary heart with warmth - but still not a step was lost to distraction. Not even when another figure danced her way through the clouds. Her golden dress spun and flared with her twirls, the snow whispered beneath the grace of her feet. But Aeonas's eyes remained fixed to the fog ahead.     The young woman leapt and glided on into the scar, and where she faded and blurred away, forgotten with so much else, a thick, purple cloud of acrid smoke trailed along behind her. This lingered all too clearly.     Aeonas disregarded it, pulling the cloak closer as the cold crept through to what little bare skin it could find and snowflakes burned a lined and sullen brow. Then a high-pitched call came from the fogline, and an owl swept in from its rest in a nearby tree. But this, Aeonas knew, was no phantom. And knew equally that it had been waiting.     Teal eyes broke their stare for only a moment, and as the owl took position overhead and followed Aeonas in perfect time, their gaze returned to the distance, just as another satchel jerked and writhed.     In that moment, another shape emerged, one fast, thick, and slavering. A beast, neither wolf nor bear, crashed through the darkness towards the wanderer, red eyes fiercely aglow. But still, Aeonas didn't flinch, nor turn as another shape formed close to the left, its glinting sword raised high. The beast snarled and leapt for the head, but as Aeonas continued unshaken, it seized the shadow instead, and they vanished as quickly as the both of them had appeared.     Then came the comforting smell of warm fruit, and the sound of joyous, hopeful singing. Both grew stronger, filled the air on all sides, then flooded on into the blur behind, where it reverberated wondrously amongst everything else.     More abstract fragments of life moved by, until the screech of the owl broke the silence.     Aeonas looked up, and bleak lips turned down further. The snow was heavier, the fog thicker, and the forest was growing dense. More trees took shape, stronger, defined, with deliberate clarity over the rest. As Aeonas walked on devotedly past them, some began to freeze, others grew taller, a single wassailed tree burned, and an emerging windmill turned to gold.     But Aeonas continued, resigned, afraid and weary, wading through the mystery, past every event, until the air ahead suddenly and sharply cleared to a deep amethyst sky, empty of dread and thought. Finally, those ancient boots came to a stop.     With a breath of relief, Aeonas shrugged out of the hood and looked out to the open night ahead, weathered heart beating in a fever. But there was nothing to see. Nothing to hear. Nothing to fear and nothing to celebrate. There was nothing at all, but possibility.     With another breath, of peace and preparation, Aeonas's gaze dropped. And there, at the toe of the old boots and further down still, sprawling from the base of the cliff the wanderer now stood upon like a ragged old spectre, the fog rolled on. Everything beneath, everything ahead, everywhere old boots could walk, remained just as clouded and unclear. The shroud was endless, stretching far beyond what teal eyes could reach.     Only now did Aeonas turn, and grimaced deeper at the sight of the scar left behind, the black destruction, lined with that most hated and most cherished; the things one would wish to forget, and the things one clings to without knowing better.     But Aeonas had learned. There was nothing to be done but continue. There was no going backwards, and there was certainly no stopping; and as difficult as moving forward would always be, it could be made a little easier.     Aeonas knelt down on the snow and sorted through the satchels. One by one, they were looked over, unstrapped from thigh and calf, peered tentatively inside of when needed. Some were filled with smoke, others with flowers, others still with dull stones and others with charred pine cones. Some with light itself, and others with nothing but the scent of spruce needles. And, one by one, Aeonas considered them with a practised eye.     "Nothing heavier than a feather."     And so, among many others, the satchel of smoke, the satchel of light, and the satchel of charred pine cones were discarded. And the satchels of flowers, of the smell of spruce needles, and of dull stones remained.     Then Aeonas sorted through the journals and parchments.     "Nothing lighter than lead."     And so the notes and records of struggles, of love, of ideas and of hands remained, while disappointment, embarrassment, shame and nightmares were cast away.     Aeonas stood taller, left now with only worthwhile lessons, and faced back into the clear sky and clouded earth. With one step, the traveller fell from the cliff.     And landed on the soles of ancient boots with barely the sound of the snow beneath.     With a deep breath, Aeonas continued on into the unknown, the owl ever overhead, spider ever weaving between the remaining satchels and journals. And behind the wanderer, there was nothing but bootprints in the snow.

---

Thank you all so much for your support this year. I wish you all the best for 2023.

Support me on Patreon!

This story is not to be copied or reproduced without my written permission.

Copyright © 2022 Kim Wedlock

[tempestaurora]

would all my followers mind going and watching the snowpiercer tv show, getting really into melanie and bennett as a relationship, and then come back and read my fics? the fandom is small and i want attention

[lorirwritesfanfic]

I see other writers making plans and resolutions for their blogs, cleaning up tag lists while I'm here like

[yangjeongin]

I posted 1,580 times in 2022

605 posts created (38%)

975 posts reblogged (62%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@yangjeongin

@seungs

@foxinys

@jizung

@chrisbangs

I tagged 1,573 of my posts in 2022

#carly.txt - 328 posts

#createskz - 281 posts

#bystay - 280 posts

#hyunjin - 274 posts

#stray kids - 273 posts

#*gif - 263 posts

#staysource - 226 posts

#*ccarly - 204 posts

#malegroupsnet - 189 posts

#sr - 185 posts

Longest Tag: 122 characters

#omg i watched this earlier and was like 😦☹️😦☹️🥰💔🥺😭🥲👍🥺💛❤️😔😢😞☹️ and then i remembered u said u wanted to gif it

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

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1,873 notes - Posted August 30, 2022

#4

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1,886 notes - Posted June 16, 2022

#3

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2,051 notes - Posted June 17, 2022

#2

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2,247 notes - Posted April 22, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

3,857 notes - Posted September 5, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[taylorthegiant]

had some self reflection and realization moments and its like. man being cast out of a seven year old friend group when i was twelve REALLY did a number on my ability to pursue friendships irl