Tom had built a fort with his lego, acting out some story of a brave knight rescuing two people from an evil queen. His grandmother watched him play, mildly amused by his seriousness until she noticed the names he was using for his characters. “Tomoaki,” she said sternly, using his full Japanese name, “put those away, it’s time for dinner!”
Gray has lived alone since the age of seventeen. His father had gambled and drank away most of their family money before then, and with his younger sister out of the picture, he moved out as soon as he had enough money to, even though that meant working a job between school and extracurricular activities. His house has been his fortress for as long as he could remember, especially the one he currently lives in. It took him almost ten years to save up enough to save for it, and even longer to fix it the way he likes. It’s temporary, in his mind, until he manages to get back what Locksley took from his family, but it’s still home.
It’s very rare for anyone to receive an invitation into his house, and even rarer for them to stay long. His house is his escape from the real world, the walls around him keeping everything he doesn’t want out. Vaisey, his boss, has never even been inside, despite being an integral part of his life. The only “bad” things he’s ever let in have been women, Marian and Penelope, the two biggest regrets of his adult life. But since they’ve left him alone, he’s purged the house. The flowers in his garden are gone, as is anything that reminds him of them.
Home is safe, his own fortress. Home protects Gray.
The fort stood tall and proud, its rough hewn sides protruding from the forest like some sort of god smitten mountain rebelling against the natural ebb and flow of the hills surrounding.
In the fort the people gathered in preparation to hold off the enemies. There were to many to fight on the open field of battle, so they had to hold out hope that a siege was the right way to go.
I sanctuary for childhood dreams and secrets. Behind bushes in treetops alive and well seeking all that is wonderful in the universe. To dream is to live is to grow. A fort is the best place for childhood memories.
Recently I went to visit ancient fort ruins and while I was there I thought about the people who have built it and died defending it against their enemies. I think it has been a long time that somebody would think about them.
The fort underwent heavy bombardment, enough that anyone would think you would die inside. everyone did, or so everyone thought. Out of the rubble rose misty, black form. Tall and mighty, a being of incomparable strength. A force to be reckoned with, he knew his time had come when he would sit on the throne of the greatest rulers on the globe…
They were much too old to build a pillow fort, really they were, but Yachiru was with them, so they of course obeyed.
They built a fort out of bodies on the battlefield, blood making a moat, and it was truly sickening to see how much fun they’d had. When they went home, Yachiru wanted to play again, so they did.
Gathering all her love-toys, they made a castle that rose to the ceiling and let her play Queen. They huddled when it started to thunderstorm, and they lulled her to sleep between their bodies, embracing for what felt like forever.
And when Ikkaku stroked Yumichika’s hair back from his sleeping face and kissed his neck, he wished that they could build a castle and go away together.
she stands alone at the apex of a series of towers, of the ring of fortifications surrounding her most important person’s kingdom. she would fight any enemy here; she would die here, if only for that person. and even as the greatest army she’s ever seen–a hundred thousand? a million?–rounds the hill in front of her, blocks out the sun and her charming view of the sparkling sea, she does not flinch, does not bat an eye. simply raises her sword to the sky. “for the empire!”
The children tumble outside, bundled up and eager. The snow they’ve been waiting for is finally here! They rush to a hill of snow and instantly begin piling up chunks and pieces of it. Finally, finally, the fort is finished.
the fort was locked down tighter then ever since the attack on the perimeter over an hour ago. Fortunately no one was injured and life has since returned to normal.
Fort is aan another name of palace.
Forts were meant for kings.
Where they used to live and rule
They are just massive buldings with high luxury.
It was king’s time in living in fort.
Often damsels in distress hang around in these kind of things, waiting for their dashing heroes to come whisk them away into the sunset. Sorry, honey, he’s stuck in traffic.
#YOLO
When we heard the torturous screams upstairs my brother and I would make a fort. The soft material from our beds would block out the terrible cries from the brother we had never met.
i built a fort last night with dillon. what a coincidence, of course i would get fort. it’s the universe and its magical ways again. connecting random events and tying them into the future. something that will be relevant. which makes everything and anything you come across incrediblye important
I wanna build a fort with you and pretend to go on magical adventures. We can sail the 7 seas or climb the tallest mountains. As long as I’m with you. Warm. Cozy. With you. That’s what I want out of our fort. But you won’t build a fort with me. Instead you built walls. Walls to protect yourself from the world but also protect yourself from me… Tear down your walls and come build a fort.
Towering overhead was a fort–brick layered over brick, the grid of mortar telling of the sweat put into its construction. There was no way around it but up, making it that much more daunting.
I tried tofortify myself for what I knew was coming. It was as predictable as spring weather, and also as feirce, but easily shielded against with a little bit of doomsday scenario planning.
‘Smile’ she said ‘and look at the camera. Don’t you want to be here? It’s beautiful.’
The light is dim, muted, and the bulk of the room is dominated by a seemingly endless pile of pillows and blankets. You look back at her, confused, “A…fort?”
“Do you like it?” she asks and her voice is so raw, so hesitant, that you can’t help the way your heart melts in response. Where she learned to do this, you have no idea, but you’re grateful nonetheless.
His hands rubbed together as if he was trying to create a fire with his callused palms. His gray eyes scanned the even grayer sky as small drops of rain splashed down on his rosewood hair. His tattered clothes clung to his body like a bug trapped in spiderwebs. He was told to hold the fort but he sick, tired, and could feel death tie around him like a stone sinking in murky water.
“It’s almost December!” squealed Cherry. “Let’s make a fort! Let’s roast marshmallows! Let’s buy a Christmas tree!”
I could not help chuckling as my niece bounced around the room, making suggestion after suggestion for wintry festivities. Outside, the autumn was still lingering, discolored leaves still descending from the trees’ branches. Snow had not yet fallen.
Battalion. Battle lines. Hidden in the manor, the enemy’s ghost trembles. In the sound of chaotic clatter, we find the flares of muzzles hardly enticing, and very dramatic.
this means strong in French. It also means a military stronghold. Like fort Henry. Or the one that Isaac Brock was at. Might be in Niagra Falls. It’s interesting that I thought of the French world first.
We had succeeded. They were fooled, utterly, pitifully fooled. Or perhaps Nat and I thought we were more clever than we thought. Either way, she and I were running to the woods, and she was giggling and free. I ran beside her, watching her the entire time. For a moment we were free of the domesticity. We were together. We were
Outside, the bombs whistled through the air and John could heard the dirt showering against the window panes. In (relative) silence, he cleaned his rifle and put it back together upon the table where his mother and sisters had served Thanksgiving dinner not so long ago.
It was a cold fort. Frosted,freezing and silent. The wind tickled the back of her ears and left her numb. She pulled the scarf around her tighter. A snap echoed behind her. And she froze, her hand snapping to the smooth metal on her hip. A rustle, and then a howl.
Not just any howl, it was That howl, a warping twist of human screaming and the low mourning of a wolf, pulled several octaves higher by it’s mutated vocal cords. Others answered it, surrounding her, bombarding her ears like spitballs in that old destestable school of hers.
She can’t decide of the heralding of that time would be good or not.
I saw a video about how asexual peoples’ idea of fun times in bed is building a pillow fort. I dont understand why you cant also have sex in the pillow fort. is it going to fall down? are your pillow fort making skills the real problem here? I’m asexual too though. I’m just insecure about my fort building abilities.
They built the fort in the middle of some large trees. Made of wood, stone and mud, it held through the seasons, lasting many years, providing shelter to any who dared to stop by.
Im not sure what fort is…
should i google it.?.
im not very familiar with the word.
We have “the fort” here a place where business establishments are common in the area and where foreigners choose to stay. Its a place where the high class or rich people stay and im only an average type of person so i dont go there :p
The fort was built of couch cushions and a bed sheet. We spent all day in there, imagining intruders that needed to be shot down. The sun would rise and set, and in the meantime we held court. Kings of our tiny imaginary world, we had all we needed.
“Catch!” I say throwing a pillow at you. You add it to the dozens of pillows already spread out. I take a step back taking in our work. “This is the best fort I’ve seen if I do say so myself.” I say. And you walk next to me to take it in. You nod in agreement. I turn and look at you smiling with a little mischief. “What?” you ask and before you can read my mind I tackle you onto the fluffy fort we’ve built. I kiss you once then twice as we snuggle deeper into our new sanctuary.
while the Englishmen shot their rifles the Indian women and children hide in the fort where they wouldn’t be found.
Tom had built a fort with his lego, acting out some story of a brave knight rescuing two people from an evil queen. His grandmother watched him play, mildly amused by his seriousness until she noticed the names he was using for his characters. “Tomoaki,” she said sternly, using his full Japanese name, “put those away, it’s time for dinner!”
Gray has lived alone since the age of seventeen. His father had gambled and drank away most of their family money before then, and with his younger sister out of the picture, he moved out as soon as he had enough money to, even though that meant working a job between school and extracurricular activities. His house has been his fortress for as long as he could remember, especially the one he currently lives in. It took him almost ten years to save up enough to save for it, and even longer to fix it the way he likes. It’s temporary, in his mind, until he manages to get back what Locksley took from his family, but it’s still home.
It’s very rare for anyone to receive an invitation into his house, and even rarer for them to stay long. His house is his escape from the real world, the walls around him keeping everything he doesn’t want out. Vaisey, his boss, has never even been inside, despite being an integral part of his life. The only “bad” things he’s ever let in have been women, Marian and Penelope, the two biggest regrets of his adult life. But since they’ve left him alone, he’s purged the house. The flowers in his garden are gone, as is anything that reminds him of them.
Home is safe, his own fortress. Home protects Gray.
The fort stood tall and proud, its rough hewn sides protruding from the forest like some sort of god smitten mountain rebelling against the natural ebb and flow of the hills surrounding.
In the fort the people gathered in preparation to hold off the enemies. There were to many to fight on the open field of battle, so they had to hold out hope that a siege was the right way to go.
I sanctuary for childhood dreams and secrets. Behind bushes in treetops alive and well seeking all that is wonderful in the universe. To dream is to live is to grow. A fort is the best place for childhood memories.
Recently I went to visit ancient fort ruins and while I was there I thought about the people who have built it and died defending it against their enemies. I think it has been a long time that somebody would think about them.
The fort underwent heavy bombardment, enough that anyone would think you would die inside. everyone did, or so everyone thought. Out of the rubble rose misty, black form. Tall and mighty, a being of incomparable strength. A force to be reckoned with, he knew his time had come when he would sit on the throne of the greatest rulers on the globe…
They were much too old to build a pillow fort, really they were, but Yachiru was with them, so they of course obeyed.
They built a fort out of bodies on the battlefield, blood making a moat, and it was truly sickening to see how much fun they’d had. When they went home, Yachiru wanted to play again, so they did.
Gathering all her love-toys, they made a castle that rose to the ceiling and let her play Queen. They huddled when it started to thunderstorm, and they lulled her to sleep between their bodies, embracing for what felt like forever.
And when Ikkaku stroked Yumichika’s hair back from his sleeping face and kissed his neck, he wished that they could build a castle and go away together.
she stands alone at the apex of a series of towers, of the ring of fortifications surrounding her most important person’s kingdom. she would fight any enemy here; she would die here, if only for that person. and even as the greatest army she’s ever seen–a hundred thousand? a million?–rounds the hill in front of her, blocks out the sun and her charming view of the sparkling sea, she does not flinch, does not bat an eye. simply raises her sword to the sky. “for the empire!”
The children tumble outside, bundled up and eager. The snow they’ve been waiting for is finally here! They rush to a hill of snow and instantly begin piling up chunks and pieces of it. Finally, finally, the fort is finished.
The children tumble inside, red-faced and cold.
Holz, Indianer, Cowboys, Wild-west, strong, secure, sand, blue, western, castle, horses, dreams, malboro
the fort was locked down tighter then ever since the attack on the perimeter over an hour ago. Fortunately no one was injured and life has since returned to normal.
Fort is aan another name of palace.
Forts were meant for kings.
Where they used to live and rule
They are just massive buldings with high luxury.
It was king’s time in living in fort.
Often damsels in distress hang around in these kind of things, waiting for their dashing heroes to come whisk them away into the sunset. Sorry, honey, he’s stuck in traffic.
#YOLO
When we heard the torturous screams upstairs my brother and I would make a fort. The soft material from our beds would block out the terrible cries from the brother we had never met.
The fort was occuped by the new people from the North
i built a fort last night with dillon. what a coincidence, of course i would get fort. it’s the universe and its magical ways again. connecting random events and tying them into the future. something that will be relevant. which makes everything and anything you come across incrediblye important
I wanna build a fort with you and pretend to go on magical adventures. We can sail the 7 seas or climb the tallest mountains. As long as I’m with you. Warm. Cozy. With you. That’s what I want out of our fort. But you won’t build a fort with me. Instead you built walls. Walls to protect yourself from the world but also protect yourself from me… Tear down your walls and come build a fort.
Towering overhead was a fort–brick layered over brick, the grid of mortar telling of the sweat put into its construction. There was no way around it but up, making it that much more daunting.
I tried tofortify myself for what I knew was coming. It was as predictable as spring weather, and also as feirce, but easily shielded against with a little bit of doomsday scenario planning.
‘Smile’ she said ‘and look at the camera. Don’t you want to be here? It’s beautiful.’
one time i made a fort out of the ceiling fans in my living room and my mom chased me around the house with a wet towel the end
The light is dim, muted, and the bulk of the room is dominated by a seemingly endless pile of pillows and blankets. You look back at her, confused, “A…fort?”
“Do you like it?” she asks and her voice is so raw, so hesitant, that you can’t help the way your heart melts in response. Where she learned to do this, you have no idea, but you’re grateful nonetheless.
His hands rubbed together as if he was trying to create a fire with his callused palms. His gray eyes scanned the even grayer sky as small drops of rain splashed down on his rosewood hair. His tattered clothes clung to his body like a bug trapped in spiderwebs. He was told to hold the fort but he sick, tired, and could feel death tie around him like a stone sinking in murky water.
“It’s almost December!” squealed Cherry. “Let’s make a fort! Let’s roast marshmallows! Let’s buy a Christmas tree!”
I could not help chuckling as my niece bounced around the room, making suggestion after suggestion for wintry festivities. Outside, the autumn was still lingering, discolored leaves still descending from the trees’ branches. Snow had not yet fallen.
Battalion. Battle lines. Hidden in the manor, the enemy’s ghost trembles. In the sound of chaotic clatter, we find the flares of muzzles hardly enticing, and very dramatic.
I want a girl who knows how to make a good blanket fort.
I want a girl who knows how to play make believe.
She can be the princess, I can be the knight.
I can be the prince, and she can be the knight.
I don’t care, but I want a girl who knows how to play.
this means strong in French. It also means a military stronghold. Like fort Henry. Or the one that Isaac Brock was at. Might be in Niagra Falls. It’s interesting that I thought of the French world first.
We had succeeded. They were fooled, utterly, pitifully fooled. Or perhaps Nat and I thought we were more clever than we thought. Either way, she and I were running to the woods, and she was giggling and free. I ran beside her, watching her the entire time. For a moment we were free of the domesticity. We were together. We were
Outside, the bombs whistled through the air and John could heard the dirt showering against the window panes. In (relative) silence, he cleaned his rifle and put it back together upon the table where his mother and sisters had served Thanksgiving dinner not so long ago.
building one out of pillows, and blankets, and the sofa, snuggle in tight alone i’d love that feelign now, with you.
It was a cold fort. Frosted,freezing and silent. The wind tickled the back of her ears and left her numb. She pulled the scarf around her tighter. A snap echoed behind her. And she froze, her hand snapping to the smooth metal on her hip. A rustle, and then a howl.
Not just any howl, it was That howl, a warping twist of human screaming and the low mourning of a wolf, pulled several octaves higher by it’s mutated vocal cords. Others answered it, surrounding her, bombarding her ears like spitballs in that old destestable school of hers.
She can’t decide of the heralding of that time would be good or not.
With all the broken pieces of what was left of who I thought I was, I built my fort of strength and resurrection.
I saw a video about how asexual peoples’ idea of fun times in bed is building a pillow fort. I dont understand why you cant also have sex in the pillow fort. is it going to fall down? are your pillow fort making skills the real problem here? I’m asexual too though. I’m just insecure about my fort building abilities.
It’s a kind of protection of a place or city.
I ate thanksgiving leftovers in a fort.
It had a treehouse and funny rules, “You talkin’ to me?”
a few new friends, fried potatoes, and a SMART Car.
They built the fort in the middle of some large trees. Made of wood, stone and mud, it held through the seasons, lasting many years, providing shelter to any who dared to stop by.
Im not sure what fort is…
should i google it.?.
im not very familiar with the word.
We have “the fort” here a place where business establishments are common in the area and where foreigners choose to stay. Its a place where the high class or rich people stay and im only an average type of person so i dont go there :p
The fort was built of couch cushions and a bed sheet. We spent all day in there, imagining intruders that needed to be shot down. The sun would rise and set, and in the meantime we held court. Kings of our tiny imaginary world, we had all we needed.
“Catch!” I say throwing a pillow at you. You add it to the dozens of pillows already spread out. I take a step back taking in our work. “This is the best fort I’ve seen if I do say so myself.” I say. And you walk next to me to take it in. You nod in agreement. I turn and look at you smiling with a little mischief. “What?” you ask and before you can read my mind I tackle you onto the fluffy fort we’ve built. I kiss you once then twice as we snuggle deeper into our new sanctuary.