You’ve got prints. Some look great at arm’s length. Some look like they lost a bar fight with a porcupine. This is the part where you turn raw plastic into a mini that actually deserves paint. No magic. No twelve-step ritual. Just a calm little routine you can run without thinking, whether the mini came out of goo (resin) or off a hot-noodle robot (FDM).
The First Ten Minutes Decide Your Night
Fresh off the machine, every model is lying to you. Resin still wears a thin film from washing. FDM still has wisps and nubs that grab the light in the worst way. Give each piece a short “welcome to the world” check on a clean mat with decent lighting. If something obvious is bent, warm it gently with a hair dryer or a cup of hot water, then nudge it true and hold until it cools. It’s easier to straighten a spear now than after primer. If you spot a support crater in a high-attention area, note it and resist the spiral. We’ll fix it. The goal in these first minutes is to decide what needs a tool and what needs a deep breath.
Support Removal Without Regret
Supports come off cleaner when the part is firm but not brittle. For resin, that means a short, controlled cure first, not a marathon under UV. For FDM, it means room-temperature plastic and a patient hand. Pinch a support and twist like you’re snapping a dry twig. Work from hidden zones toward visible ones so you don’t smear residue across a face you cared about.
Flush cutters are your best friend, but how you hold them matters. Put the flat side toward the model, angle the blades to match the surface, and cut with small, quiet nibbles instead of a single heroic chomp. The big cut creates stress. The tiny nibble lets the plastic let go without tearing a crater. On capes, slide the cutter along the fold and take the nub flush with two small squeezes. On fingers, cut the “post” far from the fingertip first so the little “tip” has no tension on it when you finally snip it free.
If a post refuses to behave, stop. Don’t wrestle. Score around it once with a sharp hobby blade to break the tiny lip, then try again. It’s a thirty-second detour that saves thirty minutes of repairs.
Scraping, Not Carving
There’s a move most beginners miss because it feels too simple. Hold a fresh hobby blade perpendicular to the surface and drag it lightly like you’re shaving a sticker off glass. You’re not slicing; you’re scraping. That motion knocks down layer lines, seams, and tiny nubs with surprising control. On FDM, a few gentle passes across a seam will blend it faster than attacking it with sandpaper from the start. On resin, that same move levels support marks before you ever touch filler.
If you’re worried about digging in, do two super-light passes and check under a raking light. You’ll see the high points dull and the lows stay shiny. When the shine evens out, you’re done.
Sanding Like You Mean It (But Only Where You Must)
Sanding is not punishment. It’s targeted. Keep a few grits handy—something fine, something very fine, and a little nail buffer for the last touch. Work small. Two strokes, check. Two more, check. For curved armor and helmets, wrap the paper around a coffee stirrer or the rubber end of a pencil so you’re sanding the curve, not flattening it.
Wet-sanding resin cuts dust, but “wet” means barely damp, not a bath. Wipe the slurry off and let the piece dry before you judge the surface. If lines still peek through on a hero’s forehead, don’t chase them forever. That’s a sign to fix orientation next time, not to sand your mini into a potato today.
Wear a simple mask when you sand resin. You don’t need to cosplay a lab tech. You do need to keep dust out of your lungs. Short sessions. Light touch. Back to painting sooner.
Filler That Doesn’t Fight You
Tiny pits, hairline gaps, and “I can still see that support mark under this angle” all have the same fix: a quick, controllable filler. Thin CA glue (superglue) with a sprinkle of baking soda sets instantly and sands like plastic. Touch the glue to the spot, dust a pinch of soda with a dry brush, count to three, and scrape or sand flush. UV-curing putties do the same with a little pen light and give you more working time on bigger scars. Hobby putties work too, but let them fully cure or you’ll gum up the surface and swear at me.
The trick is going small. You’re not frosting a cake. You’re filling a pinhole. Apply less than you think, let it harden, and level it. If you can’t see the seam in a raking light after primer, you won. If you can still see it, you didn’t lose; you just need one more whisper of filler and a second blast of primer.

Taming FDM “Corduroy” Without Losing Detail
FDM prints wear their process on their sleeve. Layer lines on capes, faint ringing around edges, a seam that wants attention. Start with the easy wins. Scrape the seam. Spot-sand the worst steps on the outer cape. If the top of a shield looks like a plowed field, turn on “ironing” next time in your slicer and thank yourself later.
For broad, flat areas that deserve to look like cast metal or worked wood, a light coat of filler primer saves hours. Go light and build in passes. The point is to soften steps, not bury sculpted detail under a sweater. Between coats, do two strokes with a fine sanding stick and check under the light. When the sheen spreads evenly and the texture reads as “material” instead of “printer,” stop. Paint does the rest.
If you’re tempted by brush-on epoxies that promise glassy surfaces, test on scrap first. They can be gorgeous on terrain and shields and too much on a 28-mm face. Rule of thumb: use chemistry where hands touch and eyes don’t linger; use the blade and sanding stick where attention lives.
Resin Clean-Up, Cure, and “Why Did This Get Brittle?”
Resin is easy to make pretty and easy to overcook. If parts chip while you’re trimming, you either cured too long or the resin batch runs brittle. Next round, knock the cure time down and see if the parts flex before they break. In cleanup, treat labels gently. Raised icons and scrollwork pop with a scrape and two passes of a buffer. If you rub them like a lottery ticket, they round off and lose the crisp edge that makes your paint work look sharp.
If you find a faint oily patch after washing, the rinse just didn’t pull everything. One more short swish in clean solution, a pat dry, and a minute under the lamp fixes the sticky. The point isn’t perfection under a microscope. It’s predictable surfaces that accept primer and don’t surprise you an hour into painting.
Gap-Fitting, Pinning, and Parts That Want to Fall Off Later
If you have a multi-part mini, dry-fit first. Not “I think it’ll be fine.” Real dry-fit. If the wrist leaves a sliver of daylight, scrape both mating faces until they kiss. A scalpel-sharp blade does more here than sandpaper; you’re truing the surface, not rounding it off.
For long joins—arms, wings, big weapons—pinning saves future you a repair ticket. Drill a shallow hole in each side, snip a tiny length of paperclip, and glue it in with a dot of CA. It’s boring. It’s also the reason your paladin’s sword won’t snap when someone bumps the table.
When glue squeezes out, don’t wipe it. Let it gel, then pop the squeeze-out off with the tip of the blade. Wiping smears glue across detail and creates the same “why won’t paint stick there” headache that haunted you last time.
Magnetizing the Smart Way
Magnets make storage friendly and bases modular. The trick is consistency. Pick one size for small minis and one for big. Drill shallow, test the fit dry, then use a toothpick to place a dot of gel CA in the hole. Slide the magnet in with a scrap of paper between it and your tool so you don’t glue the tool to your mini. Mark polarity once on a note and stick to it forever. Future you will thank past you when a whole warband snaps onto a tray without fighting.
Basing Without a Trip to the Hobby Store
A clean paint job on a naked base looks unfinished. You don’t need a drawer full of basing supplies to fix that. Texture paste is nice. So is common sense. White glue, a pinch of sand or tea leaves, and a few broken bits from your sprue box turn a flat base into a micro-scene. Press texture down while the glue is tacky so it bonds flat. Once dry, seal with another thin coat of glue so the grit doesn’t shed when you’re drybrushing later. If you print thematic bases, give the rim a quick scrape so it sits flat, then pick a rim color and never deviate. The uniform ring ties a mixed party together like matching belts on stage.
Primer as Truth Serum
Primer tells the truth. Before you prime, everything looks “fine.” After primer, every scratch and seam steps into a spotlight. That’s good news. It means you find problems now, not after three layers of paint. Spray in short bursts from a bit further away than you think. If you hose a mini at point-blank range, primer fills details and you’ll blame the printer for something the can did.
Zenithal priming—dark from all around, lighter from above—turns the sculpt into a black-and-white photo. It’s not just artsy. It shows you where highlights want to live and makes your first paint layers faster because the values are already doing half the job. If a support scar pops after primer, hit it with a scrape, a whisper of filler, and one tap of spot-primer. Don’t restart the entire model. It’s a five-minute fix.
Batch Flow So You Actually Finish Things
One mini at a time is a vibe. It’s also a bottleneck if you’re trying to field a party. Create a tiny assembly line. Lay five models on the mat. Do supports off all five. Do scraping passes on all five. Do filler on all five. Prime all five. The rhythm keeps your hands doing the same motion, which makes you faster and more precise. It also breaks the mental loop where you obsess over one micro-flaw while three other heroes stare at you from the corner.
Between steps, keep a soft brush on the desk and swipe away dust. The brush is faster and kinder than your fingers, and it saves you from pushing grit into scratches you just cleaned.
Fixing the Annoying Stuff
Sometimes a thin blade edge frays on FDM. Don’t sand across it. Drag the back of your blade along the edge like you’re honing it. Two passes and the silhouette sharpens. Sometimes a resin shoulder leaves a hairline where it met the support. That gets the CA-and-soda flick, scrape, and done. Sometimes a helmet shows faint ringing from the printer’s motion. A single, gentle skim with a curved sanding file across the direction of the ripples will knock them back. If ripples persist, your next print gets slightly lower acceleration, not an hour of sanding today.
If plastic turned glossy from friction, you polished it, which can repel primer. A quick buff with a very fine paper restores tooth. If a part refuses to bond, the mating surfaces are either too smooth or contaminated. Scrape both, wipe once, re-glue. No voodoo required.
When to Stop
Here’s the line nobody draws for you: “good enough to disappear under paint” is different from “museum smooth.” Minis live at arm’s length on moving tables under weird light. If a seam hides in normal light and the surface reads as the material you intend after primer, stop. The extra hour you spend chasing a ghost on one shoulder could finish cleanup on two more heroes. Save perfection for the centerpieces. Give the rank and file respect, not your entire weekend.
Quick Repairs After Paint (Because Life Happens)
You will drop a mini. A sword will snap. A base will chip. Keep a tiny “ER kit” in your paint box: gel CA, a pin vise with one bit, a scrap of paperclip, and your rim color. Pin, glue, touch up, move on. If a glossy fingerprint appears mid-paint, you leaned in with hand oils. Wipe lightly with a cotton swab dampened with isopropyl, let it dry, spot-prime, and repaint the area. No one at the table will ever know.
A Realistic End-to-End Example
You printed a ranger and a skeleton. The ranger’s face looks clean. The cloak shows a faint seam. The skeleton’s spear bent during cleanup. You scrape the cloak seam twice, buff once, and it disappears under the next coat of primer. You straighten the spear in hot water, then run the back of your blade down the edge to re-sharpen the silhouette. The ranger’s base gets a smear of glue and a sprinkle of tea leaves; the skeleton’s base gets a broken sprue bit as a fallen beam. You zenithal both and spot a tiny pit on the skeleton’s skull. One CA-and-soda touch, one scrape, one puff of primer, done. You spent forty minutes and went from “fresh print” to “ready for paint night.” That’s the whole game.
The Calm Wrap-Up
Post-processing isn’t a mysterious art. It’s a short list of moves you repeat until they feel obvious: twist supports instead of tearing, scrape instead of carve, sand only where you must, fill tiny and level clean, straighten while the plastic still listens, pin anything long, and let primer tell the truth before you invest paint. Do it the same way every time and the work shrinks. The prints stop looking “3D-printed.” They start looking like minis you’re excited to paint and confident to pass around the table.
Next up we’ll make that paint job fast and forgiving. You’ll get simple primers, a couple of speed recipes that respect detail instead of drowning it, and a clear path from bare plastic to “this looks way better than it should for the time I spent.”