prisoniers

Remember Me: Part 2

A Bucky x Reader / Drabble Series

Part One

A/N: I started this series with every intention of posting once a week. But, OF COURSE work always fucks my life up. So here is part two. Please know I have every intention of trying to keep this updated regularly, but please don’t hate me if I don’t. Let me know what you think and if you want me to continue. ♥♥♥

Other Characters: Steve

Word Count: 1,269

Warnings:
- language, maybe?

Tags: (at the end)

*gif is not mine.

Your unconsciousness subsided at some point, although you couldn’t exactly pinpoint the exact moment; the loud whirring of a helicopter’s blades invaded your ears, filling your brain with a buzzing sound.  It was muted, your brain still fuzzy from the action that went down however long ago. Your eyes fluttered open long enough to see a blurry figure hovering above you, your head on his lap. His fingers were stroking your hair, and you locked eyes with him for a brief moment, before you lazily closed them again. You were so weak, and it took so much effort just to keep them open.

Keep reading

Jail

My pessimism
is a cage
with an open door
in which
I am still
imprisoned.
I rattle the bars
with nicotine nails
until the sound
matches
with the grunge song
in my heart.
Outside,
a snarling monster
illuminates
the world
and salivates
its venom
to the streets.
Every
childhood anxiety
stumbles in
from the rain,
cradling
my broken flesh
from the world.
I am safe
here
and this prison
is the only thing
I own.
You may
walk by,
offering percolating lips
and daffodils
but I’ll
push them away
like sickness
just to stay
inside
where my waste
may pile up
but at least
it’s real
and breaks me
in patterns
instead
of ghosts.


@deactivation321

Tu sais c'qui va pas chez toi ? T'es encore prisonier de l'illusion ridicule que le monde tourne à la gentillesse et à l'honnêteté. Alors qu'en réalité, tout ce que ta gentillesse te garantit c'est d'être le premier à y passer. Mais la plus cruelle blague de toute, le truc qui t'coulera chaque fois qu'tu t'en approchera, c'est l'espoir. L'espoir que le monde va redresser tous les torts, qu'il va récompenser les bons et punir les méchants et les traîtres. Si jamais tu te laisses avoir par ces conneries, t'as pas l'ombre d'une chance. Le seul moyen de survivre dans cet univers pourri et oublié de dieu, c'est de prendre les commandes. Personne va s'occuper d'gens comme nous à part nous.
—  American Horror Story
love isn’t (Pat Parker)

I wish I could be
the lover you want
come joyful
bear brightness
like summer sun

Instead
I come cloudy
bring pregnant women
with no money
bring angry comrades
with no shelter

I wish I could take you
run over beaches
lay you in sand
and make love to you

Instead
I come rage
bring city streets
with wine and blood
bring cops and guns
with dead bodies and prison

I wish I could take you
travel to new lives
kiss ninos on tourist buses
sip tequila at sunrise

Instead
I come sad
bring lesbians
without lovers
bring sick folk
without doctors
bring children
without families

I wish I could be
your warmth
your blanket

All I can give
is my love.

I care for you
I care for our world
if I stop
caring about one
it would be only
a matter of time
before I stop
loving
the other.

2

I slugged some jerk in Tahoe
They gave me one to three
My high priced lawyer sprung me
On a technicality
I’m just visiting Springfield Prison
I get to sleep at home tonight

The musts I might have known

I must dust the shot glass and tumblers

I must make my way to the battlements

I must thresh the grain

I must wander over the bridge to the garden

I must advance three steps and hurl my pilum

I must linger beneath the lamppost, the balcony

I must turn the soil over this Spring

I must heal the stricken townsfolk

I must look to the stars and imagine their workings

I must study this phrenology bust

I must instruct the classroom

I must gather heads on pikes

I must search ever wider for shoals of fish

I must lay the foundation

I must set the timbers

I must hold this position at all peril

I must find more flint for knapping

I must write the treatise that lands me in prison

I must graft this cutting on that tree

I must go over the top when the whistle blows

I must carry my lunch pail to the smoking mill in the valley

I must create for my muse

I must dig until I strike water

I must holler for more ammunition

I must gather in the sanctuary for vespers

I must tend to my flock

I must bury the dead in the field

I must con an all day sucker out of his dough

I must carry more fuel to the top of the lighthouse

I must keep my powder dry

I must balance the books

I must reap this year’s harvest

I must…

youtube

Shakira - Ojos Así

Ayer conocí un cielo sin sol
Ieri conobbi un cielo senza sole
Yesterday I met a sunless sky

Y un hombre sin suelo
E un uomo senza suolo
And a man with no nation

Un santo en prisión
Un santo in prigione
A saint in prison

Y una canción triste sin dueño
E una canzone triste senza padrone
and a sad song without an owner

Y conocí tus ojos negros
E conobbi i tuoi occhi neri
And I met your black eyes

Y ahora si que no puedo vivir sin ellos yo
E ora senza di loro non posso vivere
And now I can’t live without them

Le pido al cielo solo un deseo
Chiedo al cielo solo un desiderio
I ask the sky only one wish

Que en tus ojos yo pueda vivir
Che possa vivere nei tuoi occhi
That I may live in your eyes

He recorrido ya el mundo entero
Ho già percorso il mondo intero
I’ve already travelled the whole world

Y una cosa te vengo a decir
E una cosa ti vengo a dire
And I come to tell you one thing

Viajé de Bahrein hasta Beirut
Ho viaggiato da Bahrein fino a Beirut
I travelled from Bahrein to Beirut

Fui desde el Norte hasta el polo sur
Sono stata dal Nord fino al polo sud
I’ve been from the North to the South Pole

Y no encontré ojos así
E non ho incontrato occhi così
And I’ve not met eyes like those

Como los que tienes tú
Come quelli che hai tu
Like those that you have

Ayer vi pasar una mujer
Ieri vidi passare una donna
Yesterday I saw a woman pass by

Debajo de su camello
Sotto il suo cammello
Below her camel

Un rio de sal y un barco
Un fiume di sale e una barca
A river of salt and a boat

Abandonado en el desierto
Abbandonata nel deserto
Abandoned in the desert 

ok so im going to share ANOTHER story that my friends and I used to make and they were fun and although the idea changed a lot i still wanna share it with you guys and im going to make it short 

this is the most laziest villian youll ever meet

can probably kick you and break your bones

wants to be a lawyer and can probably escape their way out of prison

i call this story “Ambitions”

ill prbably mke a comic out of this

probably

add your language to the list ; hp titles edition
  • english: harry potter and the philosopher stone ; the chamber of secret ; the prisoner of azkaban ; the goblet of fire ; the order of the phoenix ; the half-blood prince ; the deathly hallows
  • french: harry potter et l'école des sorciers ; la chambre des secrets ; le prisonier d'azkaban ; la coupe de feu ; l'ordre du phénix ; le prince de sang-mêlé ; les reliques de la mort

anonymous asked:

Clizzy 5

Clizzy + Prison

I loved writing this so much and as a result it’s juuust over 1k XD I have another clizzy and prison prompt so I’m going to use it to continue this one


‘My mom is going to kill me,’ Clary moaned, as the door swung shut and locked behind her and she stood facing the bunk bed. The whole room was painted in dull grey and puke green colours.

‘Relax,’ said the woman lying on the top bunk. ‘It’s not so bad here.’

‘Not so… this is prison,’ Clary cried.

The girl sat up and Clary let out an involuntary gasp, as the girl’s black hair flowed over one shoulder and she raised an eyebrow at Clary. One of her eyes was bruised, and there was a cut healing on her lower lip. ‘Yeah, I know where I am. It could be worse though.’

It took Clary several seconds to realise she was staring. She cleared her throat loudly and glanced around the cell again.

‘So who are you?’ the girl asked.

‘Clary,’ Clary said, now sinking down onto the edge of the lower bunk.

‘Isabelle,’ said the girl. ‘But you can call me Izzy.’ She leaned over the edge of her bed to look down at Clary and her hair was so long it almost hit Clary in the face. ‘If you stick with me, I can look after you. As long as you don’t annoy me. My last cellmate was so annoying.’

Keep reading

Hoo boy.

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