#2:0 ;D

[zu-is-here]

<– • –>

[catfortress]

Welcome to Cat Fortress Blog !

• • • Here is simply where I will post drawings and possibly animations regarding my TF2 fan AU, Cat Fortress !

• • • Main Acc: @evangelina830

Basic stuff!

• No NSFW asks pls (bloody, yes ! But no sensitive topics or lewd reqs pls.)

• Silly requests are encouraged, but please don’t go overboard ! (U know what I mean…,)

• Yes I will draw ship art ! :D dont be shy.. (I love to draw silly cats holding hands.. so yes please! As long as the ship isn’t gross…)

Also I am not super fast with asks lol I appreciate your patience!

Enjoy your visit…. =^.^=

More info under!

Tags I will use!

• #:3 - Artwork

• #:V - Doodles

• #:0 - Animation

• #:D - Answers

• #:] - (Fan?) Artwork

• #:> - Characters

• #:P - Cats info

Names!

• ⚾️Scratch - Scout

• 🪖Biscuits - Soldier

• 🔥Zoomies - Pyro

• 💣Demomew - Demoman

• 🥪Fluffy - Heavy

• 🛠️Enginya - Engineer

• 💉Meowdic - Medic

• 🎯Snipurr - Sniper

• 🚬Snap - Spy

• 📁Ms Pawling - Ms Pauling

Others so far ofc…

• 🎙️Adminhisstrator - Administrator

• 🩵Scratch’s Ma - Scout’s Ma

• 🪻Zhanclaw - Zhanna

• 🥀Beanislava - Bronislava

• 🌾Yawna - Yana

• 🫐Fluffy’s Mama - Heavy’s Mama

• 🥾Saxton Tail - Saxton Hale

• 💚Maowgaret/Maowggie - Margaret/Maggie

• 💀Whiskers - Merasmus

• 🐟Fried Fish Tramp - Fried Chicken Tramp

• 📋Furball - Bidwell

• ❤️Redmond Meoww - Redmond Mann

• 💙Blutarch Meoww - Blutarch Mann

• 🩶Gray Meoww - Gray Mann

• 🎀Olivia Meoww - Olivia Mann

• 🎈General Patton Dough - General Patton Doe

• 🧸Georgia Washington Dough - Georgia Washington Doe

This blog is still quite new - stay tuned ! Mrow….

[shialafarge]

#Vashwood VWinHL AU (Trigun x BBB Crossover) ④ 40p - PART 1

***TRIMAX SPOILER!***

Wolfwood’s eye color/setting is different

BBB characters talked this time

Recommend reading 0-3 chapters first

Ref some panels from the ori comic

TO PART 2>>>>>> https://tmblr.co/ZIPb7QeogbsXym00

(Why Tumblr only allows 30 pages...)

[aoitakumi8148]

𝓛𝓸𝓸𝓴 𝓤𝓹 𝓐𝓽 𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓢𝓽𝓪𝓻𝓼, 𝓢𝓸𝓷... 𝓝𝓸𝔀 𝓖𝓸 𝓦𝓲𝓼𝓱 𝓤𝓹𝓸𝓷 𝓞𝓷𝓮, 𝓣𝓱𝓮𝓷...

𝒞𝒶𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒷𝓇𝑜𝓀𝑒𝓃 𝒷𝑒 𝓇𝑒𝒷𝓇𝑜𝓀𝑒𝓃, 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓃𝑜𝓃-𝑒𝓍𝒾𝓈𝓉𝑒𝓃𝓉 𝒷𝑒 ‹𝑒𝒶𝓉𝑒𝓃 𝓊𝓅› 𝒶𝑔𝒶𝒾𝓃? 𝐼𝓈 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝒶 𝓁𝒾𝓂𝒾𝓉 𝑜𝒻 ‹𝒾𝓃𝓉𝑒𝑔𝓇𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃› 𝒾𝓃𝓉𝑜 𝓈𝑜𝓂𝑒𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔, 𝒶 𝓁𝒾𝓂𝒾𝓉 𝑜𝒻 𝒽𝑜𝓌 𝒹𝑒𝑒𝓅 𝒹𝑜𝓌𝓃 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒 𝓂𝒶𝓎 𝑔𝑜?

I do not have apathy, depression, anything that would be fashionable to rant about. I am simply in pain... extreme pain. And attempting to dull the edge of it is what I have been doing since v.1. As if something has indeed been fragmented & this is the pain of my conscious life. And every time I travel the melodious/glamorous path of frenzy, every time I complete it, I am going to experience the same precious pain intensity, purity of pain/ecstasy. I am going to be eventually bound to this inmost/overwhelming awe, this vehement impulse to feel/fondle/kiss what is loved, to kneel down before it, to cuddle up to its heart, to recompense bliss with bliss... More and more. Neither the good boy nor I are free. I do not want to be free... free from... These bare feelings are ‹clawing› at the reconstructed interpretation of the organ inside me. The great minds will not know what they have done, neither will Anthony... It speaks louder-truer than anything, but the sounds are not obvious... Words. All I possess, this rich but poor instrument for... And you always do end up in the point where...

The aesthetic masterwork, perfused with the golden brilliance of authentic ideality x pierced with the darkest blade of bitter-salty inaccessibility, inevitability, impossibility.

Excruciation, pleasure, euphoria, art. Blended together. Find yourself... or lose yourself on this journey. Emotionally. Totally. An unparalleled effect... and the lulling sparkle the vessel has never actually had. Something in this body x mind has died, and I do not know if there is a way to accept it, to recover it. I have described the lesson of unprecedentedness I have learned, not the expected story of ‹insult-betrayal-contempt›. No one will ever f-g hear it. Not from me, not in this lifetime. / Loving extraordinary is merciless a priori, დ/დ become telepathic... & the severest trial ~ the unhealable wound ~ is to be a 𝓟 son without the cause to be... *If I have to detest many donkeys for a chance to protect one venerated Father figure, I will go for it.

𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒷𝒾𝓉𝓈 𝑜𝒻 𝓂𝓎 𝒸𝓇𝒶𝒸𝓀𝑒𝒹 𝒽𝓊𝓂𝒶𝓃𝒾𝓉𝓎 𝓌𝒾𝓁𝓁 𝑒𝒾𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇 𝒷𝑒 𝓀𝑒𝓅𝓉... 𝑜𝓇 𝓌𝒾𝓅𝑒𝒹 𝑜𝓊𝓉 𝒸𝑜𝓂𝓅𝓁𝑒𝓉𝑒𝓁𝓎. 𝐵𝑒𝒸𝒶𝓊𝓈𝑒 𝐼 𝓁𝑜𝓈𝑒 𝓂𝓎 𝒮𝑜𝓊𝓇𝒸𝑒, '𝒸𝒶𝓊𝓈𝑒 𝒶𝓃𝑔𝑒𝓇 𝓈𝓌𝒶𝓁𝓁𝑜𝓌𝓈 𝓂𝑒, 𝓉𝑜𝑜. 𝐵𝑒𝑔 𝓎𝑜𝓊... 𝒮𝒽𝑜𝓌 𝓂𝑒 𝒽𝑜𝓌 𝓉𝑜 𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝑜𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒷𝓊𝓇𝓃𝑒𝒹 𝒻𝑒𝑒𝓉 𝓌𝒽𝑒𝓃 𝐼 𝒶𝓂 𝒹𝑒𝓅𝓇𝒾𝓋𝑒𝒹 𝑜𝒻 𝓎𝑜𝓊. 𝐿𝑒𝓉 𝓂𝑒 𝓉𝑜𝓊𝒸𝒽 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓈𝑒 𝓁𝒾𝓅𝓈... 𝒮𝑜 𝑔𝑜𝑜𝒹. 𝒮𝑜 𝓉𝑜𝓇𝓉𝓊𝓇𝑜𝓊𝓈...

While I am willing to imbibe all the anguish of the human I love, to ease his suffering, the loss of us is taking its toll on me irretrievably. I see him. I see what is inside him... & I am incapable of safeguarding it, saving it truly.

I do not have apathy, depression, anything that would be fashionable to rant about. I am simply in pain... extreme pain. And attempting to put up with this gift is what I have been doing since v.1. The chest is ‹cut open› too deep, the fragility of the organ is exposed... Would you allow me to grow more flowers? I wanna do it... Because it is you, It has always been you. The one who has given us everything, endued me to the brim with the intimate fatherly affection that this organ never remembered. My eternal wish & exuberant price for humanity, the misunderstood nature. *What an odious irony. / I do not know if there is a way to recover what is gone.

I would sacrifice the lot to be with the human that needs me, needs to be healed, heals me. I would rip my core out but I cannot, the limitation of freedom. *Tell me that the ‹strings of abuse/child neglect/lies› are finally cut. Tell me to ‹celebrate›. Tell me that both 𝓟inocchio/I are wrong x naive, ‹fix› me. You have no f-g clue about it. / When it is written that your starving heart must be left half-empty & helpless... No freedom is scarier than this.

Affording harmony to the sapphire star that is going to fall away... The sentiment it deserves. All I have ever hankered for. & I am terrified of that my grandest instinct x fear will not grant any lasting peace to me.

Death will do our Sun-hugged family apart ~ but I will still be yours, for ever. The core has never felt as good x feverish as it does when with you... as astray x anxious as it does when deprived of you. I am not lying to you, I hold no resentment... Let me ‹feed on› the emotions of your heart... Even if it means your pain x my love turn the vessel inside-out & your love x my pain do the same. Not blurred, always remember. Always. If a masterpiece could be made into a masterpiece, I would prefer to share this fate. My bona fide mission, however, is not allow anything to be in vain... Even if it hurts. ~ The atrophied ability to express love verbally has been ‹roused› again, in a fervidly devoted but preciously righteous way... The ‹lash› of despair, compulsion, dream, reality.

𝐹𝑜𝓇 𝒷𝑒𝓉𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝑜𝓇 𝓌𝑜𝓇𝓈𝑒, 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒶𝓂𝒷𝒾𝑒𝓃𝒸𝑒 𝑜𝒻 𝒦𝓇𝒶𝓉 𝒾𝓈 𝓃𝑜𝓉 𝑔𝑜𝓃𝓃𝒶 𝓁𝑒𝓉 𝑔𝑜. 𝐼𝓉 𝒸𝒶𝓃... 𝒜𝓃𝒹 𝐼 𝒹𝑜𝓊𝒷𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝒾𝓈. 𝐿𝒪𝒫 𝒽𝒶𝓈 𝒷𝑒𝒸𝑜𝓂𝑒 𝓅𝑒𝓇𝓈𝑜𝓃𝒶𝓁 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝟙/𝓂𝓊𝓁𝓉𝒾𝓉𝓊𝒹𝒾𝓃𝑜𝓊𝓈 𝓅𝒶𝓁𝓅𝒶𝒷𝓁𝑒 𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓈𝑜𝓃𝓈, 𝓂𝓎 𝓋𝓊𝓁𝓃𝑒𝓇𝒶𝒷𝒾𝓁𝒾𝓉𝓎 𝓉𝑜 𝒷𝑒𝒶𝓇.

...Take the whole meaning of this, its flavorful, pathetic, shameless, lonesome taste. Take it all, for it is all that is absolute. Teach me how to ‹merge› with it, the mortal desire of a puppet child, a human Mastro x a faceless observer like myself ~ & when the desire full of unexploited majesty is cutting off the oxygen to the lungs... True geniuses of any kind are among the silent. These eyeballs will not dry up, never fully. I have tried so many times to resist it, but why live if you repel what puts your ‹dehydrated› pieces together? I would spare no effort to keep them hot and uncurb what is being restrained... Nothing affects self-perception and ‹unmasks› the unconscious like sensation, nothing genuinely matters without it. / Shivering with cold, this body is burning. My atrophied reality in exchange for a moment of irrepressible happiness, agony, guiltless x not bottled up impulses ~ just a moment. It keeps consuming me without reserve. I do not need God. ✒

[deus-ex-mona]

if the trope works, it ✨works✨ y’know~

[randomandofnoregard]

I know it’s petty but, the fact that Willy is canonically bad at riddles while Ron is canonically really good at them fills me with a truly ridiculous amount of malicious glee.

[househuntingscotland]

3 bedroom flat for sale on Onslow Drive, Dennistoun, Glasgow

Asking price: £235,000

[sysig]

Guess who :3c (Patreon)

[asl-bros-incorrect-quotes]

Sabo: It's 10 o'clock at night!

Ace: Smell my stinky feet and ask me if I care!

Sabo: *smells Ace's foot*

Sabo: *stares Ace in the eyes*

Sabo: Do you care?

[nervousmonolith]

thinking about the whole twt scam situation ™ again ough

[aggressionbread]

It was top 6 payout at the tournament and I got 6th!! 😊

[the-lord-of-the-things]

becoming a Train Guy™️was a curse because its made me deeply aware of how deeply Fucked this train is

[catfortress]

Ur AU is so cool man if it was a tv series I would watch it every day

Hihi !! Thank u so much !! :,0 ✨

A silly (slightly messy) Meowdic dancing I finished for u ! =^.^=

[pile-of-skulls]

Having sex as a non-human alter in a human body is rough. Where are my two dicks? Why’s my tongue short and pink? WHERE THE FUCK ARE MY HORNS?!

What are the bitches suppose to grab on to if I don’t have my horns 😭

[riverbills]

TASK:The Eulogy

"Say a few words in honor of Richard"

River considered himself a talented writer. He had his name written in enough soap opera end cried crawls to prove it. He had the imagination to think of overdramatic scenarios and the observation skills to know what the most realistic reactions to situations would be, before ditching realism for more engaging character responses instead. But writing a euology for Richard was different to writing scripts. When writing one off episodes of medical dramas River loved writing cliches. The thought of giving a cliche eulogy made his skin crawl. Richard deserved better than a cliche eulogy. Richard deserved a eulogy that was as unique and poignant as he was. River was concerned he didn't have unique and poignant words in him. Especially not where was a massive ache in his chest. He didn't want to be at the funeral. He wanted to be curled up in his childhood bedroom staring at one of the ugly neon green walls and petting Saskia. In normal circumstances River loved giving speeches. As a teenage he used to sit at the vintage typewriter Richard brought him practicing writing his Oscars acceptance speech. Richard was always the first person he thanked. He couldn't channel that enthusiasm for speech writing into his eulogy but maybe he could channel that gratitude towards Richard into it.

River first attempt at writing his euology was on Saturday morning. He wrote it hunched over in his airplane seat. Unsatisfied with the result he he tore out the page from the pocketbook after he was finished and scrunched it into his pocket.This earned him a concerned but sympathetic look from the flight attendant. The eulogy was as stale as the taste of vodka in his mouth. He needed to think of something more touching than what he'd written. His second attempt at writing the eulogy was on Sunday evening. He wrote it on the vintage typewriter Richard gifted him. He was grateful that Saskia kept interrupting his writing process. Unsatisfied with the result he sighed then tucked it into his suit jacket pocket. He wished he thought of something more impactful than what he'd written but it was all he had.

As River walked up to say a few words of respect he kept his eulogy burning a hole in his suit jacket pocket. Maybe if he improvised a few words they would be more sincere. His prepared eulogy wasn't as heartfelt as Mick's or as touching as Alison's. "Hello, I'm River Billngham. Some of you are already aware of who I am."He stopped to gesture towards the towards, still theatrical even at his lowest. "But most of you aren't. Richard had numerous wards but not enough to solely give him the send off he deserves." River paused hoping for nods of agreement or at least one titter.“When my parents died…a part of me died with them.” In hindsight River's parents weren't as present as they should have been but it was true that at the time a part of him died with them. He couldn't pick up at instrument without bursting into tears. But Richard took him in anyway.“I thought I would never be happy again. And obviously I'm not happy right now but I have joyful memories from the past sixteen years and some of those memories are because of Richard." River sucked in a breath."I don't know what I would have done without him. He gave me a home. An unusual disjointed home full of traumatised disfunctional children but a home nonetheless." River looked down at his bracelets for a moment, fiddling with the leather. "You know, I really needed an environment as untraditional as Woodrow House. I don't think I would have survivied anywhere else." Not many other legal guardians would have let an artsy teenage boy fill his room with craft projects and mismatched bright furniture. "The incredible thing about Richard is that he nurtured his wards in the exact way they needed. And he wasn't flawless because..."River stopped as he felt a lump form in his throat ."because nobody is, not even people who seem like they are from the outside. But he was as close to flawless as you can get on this shitty planet. And I'm..." River stopped as the tears welled up."Fuck! I needed more time. I'm sorry, this is too much. "River ran from the funeral.

[malkisms]

college hockey is SO back