#amovement

[soraka-in-warhammer40k]

Tbh the new Eversor Assassin looks hella busted.

Scouts 9. Moves 9. Has a one-time-boost for additonal 6 move. Can advance & charge. Even assuming only a 3 for the advance and a pessimistic 6 on the charge, that means it can cover 33 inches of field in the first turn. Note here that a typical field for a 2k game is only 60 inches long, and No Man's Land is often only 24 wide. This is ABSURDLY fast.

And once that things gets to melee it will SHRED - 9 attacks hitting on 2s with TRIPLE EXPLODING SIXES gives is an extremly potent high-roll potential. It might not just delete the character in a unit (what the supposed job would be) but also the entire unit with it.

The game starts and that thing runs at you at the speed of stupid, the ultimate fire-and-forget tool that requires zero setup or synergies.

Ever-sor? More like Ever-YEET!

[wormy-worm]

ok u know what maybe if the world isn't ready for sunrazer post that means that the world IS ready for Amoveous siblings post. This is Milo and Enho and theyre my DARLINGS and i love them SO MUCH. i have. SOOOOOOOO many thoughts abt them but after the previous post massacre i do not really feel like typing all of that xoxo love <3

[pekodayz]

This shit ain’t nothing man (NO idea what genre of music troll she would be but I gave her a spiked collar for fun)

FUCKKKKKKKK UR FAST AS HELL ILL CONSUME UR SOUL??????????????

[scales-claws-and-thorns]

[rockfact]

moving around pins from one bag to another but trying to keep them even is so hard i only have so many pins...

[nylwnder]

OH MY GOODOSBQKW WNVW W WAM W WANWNQKABSN S EJEJWKE D WKW DKEKE WNWKEJR JOHNNNNNYYYYYYYYY TORONTOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

[moiorchidea]

rick owens and clothes that take up space

[somebeltwaytrash]

Hillary Clinton is a dude, full stop.

[sweetdecoseo2023]

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[wormy-worm]

would Milo ever try to make music with Ehno do you think :3. what hijinks would ensue because of this

HMMM I THINK. as a post canon bonding/sibling relationship repair exercise yes. i think milos music is really like. awkward sounding ToT? hes not very uh. artistic and i think hed think of music in a rlly mechanical way. and he hasnt been playing his instrument very long so hes not very good at it. and i think enho is like ohh my god he sucks so bad get him out of my studio (bedroom setup) rn. but this is a really sweet gesture and hes trying so hard to make up for being a crummy brother and to support my interests i cant tell him to stop. im stuck here. but its so silly and i think they have a lot of fun even if its a bit awkward. and then they make this. or something to this effect

i think as the years go by though (and he starts getting more involved with arwins music) milo gets better at his instrument :3 im thinking he plays like. the accordion or the melodica? both? smth goofy like that lol. hes still not the most creatuve with it but enhos really happy that milo has a constructive hobby and is interested in her passions and junk :3

[scales-claws-and-thorns]

Uncommon Ask Meme

What memory do they revisit the most often?

Can answer for whichever character you like.

I feel like I should answer this for a different character because I talk about Tai's trauma like all the time :p

This will be for Ivan.

The memory he ends up revisiting most was when he realized the woman he was in love with at the time didn't reciprocate his feelings. This would be fine on its own, a lot of people have had one-sided feelings, but the issue here was that she was lying to him about it. And lying to him with the explicit intention of eventually marrying him and becoming Queen.

It ended up shaping a lot of how he approaches people and also his general issues with trust.

He doesn't want to revisit it as often as he does, but he can't help it.

The upside is he's doing his best to slowly replace the hurt he felt then with the memories of his current boyfriend. The healing will no doubt be a slow process, but I'm sure it'll happen eventually.

[chaussons-ballerines-pantoufles]

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[sweetdecoseo2023]

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[lazyneonrabbitt]

Rough times.

Daryl Dixon x Reader

Requested: Hi! Would you be willing to maybe do a one shot with Daryl x reader in a pre established relationship but the reader is pregnant with a child that doesn't belong to him and she isn't proud of? (non-con if you're comfortable with that) Some angst about the reader being worried he won't love her once he finds out 👀

Warning: Non-con, unwanted pregnancy, some angst but happy ending.

What you had with Daryl started early on at the quarry. You were one of the few who didn't look at the Dixons with disgust and actually appreciatwd their hunting efforts and looked past the less than pleasant habits the older brother had.

After Daryl returned injured from his search for Sophia, you were his primary caretaker seeing he was calmest around you. By the time he got back to good health you were officially boyfriend and girlfriend.

Only you two knew, no one else really noticed much of a difference seeing you still slept in your own tents and never kissed. You were both too new to relationships and seeing Daryl needed to get used to being no longer on his own you agreed to let it all take as long as it needed.

When you arrived at the prison and cleared it enough to call home you shared a cell. Well, you slept in the cell in front of where Daryl laid out his matres and he used your cell to change and store his items.

By now you ate breakfast together and paired up on guard shifts. You were always at the gate to welcome him back after hunts and eventually he's always stick around after bringing you the meat at the outside kitchen after taking in the woodbury folks.

Yet still you were at loving smiles and shoulder touches, sometimes the short hug goodnight.

It was only the night before the prison fell you shared your first kiss.

And then you were on your own.

The Governor attacked and ended any posibility of returning to the prison and all you heard between the chaos was "RUN!" so you ran. You ran like crazy until you couldn't anymore and realized how screwed you were without your group.

It wasn't long before you were starving and tired, swaying in your walk to a point of not even noticing the men approaching you and catching you mid fall until you were in his arms. Your vision faded and you were out cold, not catching the man's words.

"Claimed."

When you woke up you were in a warehouse with a bunch of strange men and your guts told you to run. Run and find Daryl, or anyone from your group. Except you never made it far seeing they had plans for you.

One of them came to fetch you, held your wrists together behind your back and held you out for the others to stare. Then they started to offer things to the one holding you. Crazy stuff like weapons and food rations that would last a single person a week easily. The whole situation just kept getting worse and worse up to the point of you learning they were offering trades.

Trades of material worth to get time with you. And each trade was accepted and ranked from best to worst.

Ranked in what order they got to fuck you after the one who claimed you had finished.

You couldn't remember when or how long you were passed out when you were woken up by your owner, telling you to dress for a little trip.

He took you to a house not far from their warehouse spot and while he sounded kind and offered you food he only brought you there for some private one on one time..

You tried to stay strong, keeping faith in the fact that Daryl would find you and suffer theough this with the least possible resistance.

Lucky for you the house wasn't empty and just when your captor was going to make amove he was downed by no one else than Rick.

You cried the second he came into view. Letting it all out and dropping to your knees, clamped to his leg you sobbed inyo thr fabric of his pants. And he let you. He gave you the time to let it all out and calm down before he helped you up and took you downstairs to see Carl and soon out of the home to be back on the road.

Three days passed on the road with your refound group before your nightmares turn real when the group of men who assaulted you catch up and threaten to kill Rick and then the rest of you too.

Eyes wide you stared at the leader talk to Rick, no longer catching a single word when your eyes found him

Daryl.

Why was he with them?

Your surroundings blurred and sounds drowned out when the panic set in. Curled into yourself you only heard close gunshots and the accompanied loud ringing until a hamd rested on your shoulder where you sat against the side of a car.

"Y'alrigh?" Daryl's voice made you jump, sitting upright and throwing your full body against him, only to repeat the full crying session from inside the house again but this time against the leather of your boyfriend's vest.

Time passed and it seemed like you and Daryl were back on square one. Daryl blamed it on the trauma of having to flee the prison in the way it happened, but the truth was you still hadn't told him about your time apart.

You lost track of your days after your time with the group Daryl called the Claimers, not thinking about the whole situation much anymore until your third day in a row started with you puking up anything that hadn't been digested entirely yet.

The first two days you blamed the canned food and maybe undercooked meat but now you were hunched over at the side of the road when the harsh reality set in. This was in no way or shape a positive thing. Not after losing Lori in the way you did. Not because you were still without a more permanent home and even less because it wasn't Daryl who caused it. You hadn't been able to tell him what happened to you and you were out of time to prepare for the conversation.

You sat crouched and stared dead into the woods, trying your hardest to focus on a single leaf until your breathing was back to normal but your mind was too loud.

Your stomach emptied itself even further over the forest floor as sobs racked your whole body. You shivered as a cold sweat broke out. You and Daryl were already on worse terms than before the prison fell with being in survival mode constantly, there was no time to fhink about improving your relationship right now.

With your arms clutched around yourself you heaved as your stomach had nothing left to and your entire body hurt with every sob that left your lips.

"Hey," Daryl's voice and his hand on your shoulder had you freeze in panic. "Y'alrigh?"

It was now or never, forcing your head to shake. "No.." Your voice was barely above a whisper, and Daryl crouched down next to you to investigate. Your mind screamed at hou to lie. Fake being just ill and keep his mind on surviving for a while longer but your heart knew it was wrong.

You had already been lying to him for so long by not telling him immediately and you started to feel like it would be the proper punishment to be alone in this after you told him.

"I think I'm pregnant."

Instead of an answer Daryl was up and pacing at the edge of the road. You both knew it wasn't his and without hearing your side of story his mind went to every possible scenario that made him want to walk off and keep going until his legs gave out but you were still his partner. The teo of you might not have acted like it for a while but it was still true and he never forgot that.

He stopped at your side and leaned against a tree. "Talk.. please." He huffed the last word after seconds of silence, he needed to tone down the anger that came too natural to him.

You fell back on your ass and wiped your face on the bottom half of your sweater before steading your breaths and talking Daryl through the happenings of your time apart. The strange men, their deal that ended in the most traumatic night of your life and the trip to the house where Rick saved you and reuniting with Carl and Michonne up to where you met again.

When you finished your recollection of events you couldn't make yourself look up at Daryl. You felt like the worst person in exsistence for lying to him and it got only worse when he announced he needed some time and left.

You spent the days in the back of the RV, unsure if you should stay in this relationship and have Daryl raise a kid that wasn't his. Secretly you begged this world not giving you enough to have it survive long enough and go through the physical suffering of losing it but keep the man you loved.

Were you going to be okay, raising a child that that came into the world like this? Were you goinf to be okay dealing with a living, breathing reminder of what happened? Would Daryl?

You let this happen. You should have kept walking even if it killed you.

Daryl kept his word and hadn't been near you for a while. His time spent not hunting was filled with talking down at himself.

He let that happen. He should have been at your side. He should be at your side but he wasn't sure how he'd manage. He couldn't even go find the one who did it to you and make sure he suffered as much as you did since that whole group was dead by now.

The thought of you in such a situation almost cost him his life, the anger causing him to miss a walker on the ground under some leaves as it snapped at his leg and missed by a hair.

He took it out and stalked back to the group who by now lost their vehicles and had to travel on foot.the group knew about Daryl's anger and his inability to close off that part in a healty way. They knew of your doubts, your secret wishes and especially now traveling on foot they saw your tiredness, your sadness.

You spent all your time apart. Both unable to word the things in your minds as you ate dogmeat, got caught in a much needed rainstorm and hid in a barn where you were found by a stranger who claimed to have a community that would house you all.

A Whole month had passed after the horrible events and now you laid down in the community's infirmary, being examined after all the women of your group had dragged you into the room to be looked after and get needed supplements. The appointment made everything you still tried to deny true and you were sent back to your group with medication, vitamins and a sad heart.

Daryl watched how the women swarmed you and felt like the biggest asshole for not doing what they did. He should be there with you to comfort you about all of this. To tell you he'd make it all work as long as you two did it together. But why wasn't his body moving as he told himself this?

It was Rick's hand on his shoulder that pulled Daryl from his own mind back into reality. He was pulled up and taken along in the direction where you rested on the couch. Carol saw them and ushered the others aside, making sure Daryl had a place to sit beside you as Rick set him down and the others walked off.

"Hey," his voice was soft, barely above a whisper. Even throigh your own still twisted nerves you could feel his and welcomed him into your space with a smile. He came to you and didn't run as soon as Rick's hands were off him, he stayed on his own.

"S'good fer ya ta hav'a roof over yer head now." He was fidgeting with loose ends on his clothes, hoping his words made sense.

"Yeah, you're right.." You should tell him. You have to tell him.

"You know you don't have to stick around, right? It's not your kid, not your problem." The words hurt coming out of your mouth, and they hurt reaching Daryl's ears.

He may not have shown it, solely because he didn't know how, but he loved you. "I ain't lettin' ya do this on yer own." You heard his spoken words and knew they translated to more. More that Daryl had a difficulty saying out loud.

It was moments like this you thanked not needing many words to understand each other. It was one of the things that attracted the two of you in the beginning after all.

Daryl wasn't going to leave you over this. He was willing to do this with you and it took a huge weight off your chest. It was going to take a while but you were going to be okay, the three of you.

When the group fully settled in their homes and everyone was welcomed into the community you spent a lot of time in the garage with Daryl. He wanted to keep an eye on you as the baby grew, but he still needed to get work done so he had set up a corner for you to lounge and read books in. He's catch you staring his way more often than not, but it didn't bother him if it was you.

"Denise came ta drop these off for ya." Daryl walked into the bathroom where you were soaking in the tub. He placed your refill pharmacy order on the counter and came to kiss your forehead, admiring your bump for a moment before retreating into the bedroom to lay down and wait for you to call for assistance.. You were okay with you being nude these days, although Daryl still preferred to have his upper body covered and slept in an old ratty shirt.

Daryl sat on his knees next to the bed, he held your hand, your thigh, the towels when Denise instructed him to do so. He was everywhere to make sure you were comfortable and cried the second the baby made a sound and cheers went around the room.

He watched as the women cleaned the baby girl and laid her down on your chest. He had moved from side to side, feeling like he was in the way of all the moving people that assisted in helping your child into the world but was assured he was exactly where he needed to be for now, up till Denise gave him new instructions after a while of him doing nothing but stare and admire.

Sniffling he made his way to the other side of the bed on the doc's orders and scooted against your shoulder.

His hands were shaking since the second Denise told him to go lay down and take off his shirt. He thanked himself for wearing a button down as he kept his back against the pillows and undid the buttons to only shove aside the front of his shirt so it hung off his shoulders.

This time it was Carol who came to help, showing the new parents how to hold and handle theit newborn as she took her from mom's chest and placed her on dad's.

~~☆☆☆~~

A/N: Okay this one took me out. I'm sorry it took so long!!

[chic-a-gigot]

Beaux-arts des modes, no. 4, juillet 1935 (New York, Paris, London, Milano, Wien, Bruxelles). Bibliothèque nationale de France

1169 Autumn dress of crêpe brisette. Sweater-like top with broad shoulders and stitched pockets. Amovible plastron of baby lamb. Six gore skirt. — 1169a Halflong, stitched jacket, three pockets.

[chicinsilk]

Harper's Bazaar June 1958

Tan Arnold wears a removable crash silk dress in pastel colors of green, pink and lavender, over a sleeveless playsuit. By B. H. Wragge.

Tan Arnold porte une robe amovible en soie crash couleurs pastels, vert, rose et lavande, sur un combishort sans manches. Par B. H. Wragge.

Photo Louise Dahl-Wolfe