Rb If Youd Wipe All Pedophiles Off This Earth

rb if you’d wipe all pedophiles off this earth

Requests!

Hey everyone! Sorry for not being active for months! I’ve been busy with college! But between writing block and homework, exams and presentations I haven’t had the time. I’m glad to say I’m back for a short while so send me any requests you have!!! Hope everything is going well for you guys!!! 💕I’m really in the mood to write a Bucky imagine so if you have any ideas don’t be afraid to drop some ideas.

PLEASE REQUEST A KLAUS IMAGINE

I'm desperate here. I really really really really want to write one. Please? Klaus x reader

A Painter's Heart

A/n: this is an old story I wrote and never posted. Enjoy! Send in requests please!!

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Painting a sunrise was like painting a new beginning. It was promising. Though it didn’t matter what she put on the canvas, painting was a freedom. A freedom from the reality she lived in. Her canvas was the portal, her paint dimensions through time.

It’s the reason she was in a field full of purple flowers, looking towards the sky’s horizon. Her easel was set, along with her paint and freshly washed brushes. The chipping paint on their handles were proof of her love for art.

There.

The first light of the day breaking through the sky. She wasted no time. It was as if her body moved on its own, hands moving gracefully across the canvas. Urgent, fearless, passionate.

Klaus had never seen someone paint with such heart. He had seen people paint, paint with purpose, arrogance and even sadness. But the way they painted seemed rehearsed, stiff and even dull from the years of practice. The girl across the field painted as if she was born to paint. It was as if her fingertips bled the very paint that lay on the canvas. So he watched her paint from across the field, with the sun rising across the sky casting a beautiful glow. It was always strange seeing her canvas before her, showing a moment in time. Frozen still like a picture. To her it felt like another escape, but it was never reachable. Placing the brush down her hands ached, while the fingertips buzzed with pleasure of painting.

“You paint as if you were born from the canvas itself.” 

Startled by the sudden voice, she turned searching from where it belonged. There across the field, a man that seemed to be quite a distance away walked towards her. Had he been watching her paint? 

He was handsome, she thought as he soon came close enough to see his face. Dark blonde hair, blue green eyes that seemed glimmer with mischief, his lips dark red. He was clad in black, giving off a bad boy sense of self. But the way he walked toward her gave her no sense of danger.

“Were you watching me paint?” Her voice was accusing and the small frown on her face gave away the discomfort she felt from his invasion. Klaus could’ve sworn he had never seen a more beautiful sight.

He chuckled in response to her weariness, simply offering her a smile instead, “I apologize if I startled you love. It was not my intention, but I couldn’t help myself.”

His laugh was light and his smile breath taking. She didn’t know what held her more captivated, his strange accent or the smile he was giving her. Blushing her hands found each other as they began to rub against each other, a nervous habit she had since a child.

“...It’s fine. I’m just not used to people watching me paint.” Her voice was soft, almost like a feather. Her gaze was to the side almost embarrassed.  It was then he realize that he intruded on a personal talent that she seemed to hid from people. 

“My name is Klaus.” He said gently lifting his hand to shake hers. 

Smiling slightly, “My name is (Y/N),” she responded meeting him half way with her own hand. His was firm and warm as he clasped it around hers, but instead of a hand shake, he gently brought his lips down to the back of her hand. 

(Y/N) didn’t know what burned more, the spot where he laid his lips on her hand or the gaze he gave her, his eyes looking up towards her through his lashes. 

He gently let go, taking a step back to leave but never turning. Hoping to engrave her there, between the flowers and sky, in his mind. “I hope we meet again (Y/N).” 

She seemed to be in a daze, still feeling his warmth wrapped around her hand. “I hope so too.” She whispered softly, almost as if it were a secret.

That was all it took for a grin to be etched in his face as he turned and walked away. 

I will have this painter’s heart

He Knew

Author's Note: THIS IS THE BEST IVE WRITTEN HANDS DOWN I LOVE IT. Haha I hope you guys do too! I means it's not the best but still. Feel free to let your imagination run wild with this one. It's for which ever character you love. (If someone steals this please let me know.) enjoy ;) Warnings: None. _____________ He knew he cared about her when she came to him crying. Tears running down her face as eloquent as raindrops on a windowsill. Her eyes echoing pain with every drop that fell, etching it on her face. Her lips quivering with the weight of her wails at bay. Until she took one look at him and let it all go. She sobbed her ex love away, holding on to him in an embrace that felt desperate for consolation. Trembling with the violence of a heartbreak. And all he could was hold her. Hug her. Caress the back of her head with his hand. And after the last of her tears had been shed, she spoke. "Make me forget." She whispered in his ear. Exhaustion lacing her voice. And who was he to say no, to let her suffering continue. "You will forget his existence. All the memories you made with him, everything you felt for him. He is nothing to you." He knew he fell for her when she danced to the tune of the wind. This particular field of daisies was nothing special, but for a reason unknown it brought her immense joy. The sun was setting, hiding behind the horizon, burning the sky in an ever lasting fire. She could feel the heat on her skin as she closed her eyes, the wind caressing her skin, whipping her hair softly. Beautiful. Breathtaking even, he thought. His eyes followed her hands as they gingerly grabbed her dress, bunching it, and then slowly she began to move her hips. Tilting her head back, finding a rhythm that only she could hear. She let herself be, never opening her eyes, only feeling everything around her. The sun on her body, the wind against her skin, the soil behind her feet. She was too stunning. A star that burned far too bright. And he was scorched with the thought of her branded on his mind. He knew he loved her when she smiled at him. It was an ordinary night. The stars impaled the sky like diamonds. Shinning above them as they lay watching them. The grass below them was itching at his skin, but he remained still knowing that she loved the view. So he kept quiet, listening to the way her heart pounded against her chest instead. She had always wondered what was beyond those stars and tonight was no different. It was the clearest it had been all week. She loved the night; They way it came alive, with all the wild animals and insects making noises around them, the smell of freshly watered grass and of course the way it felt against her hands. She sighed in content, getting his attention as he turned his head to see her right beside him. She looked peaceful, as if in tune with the universe, as if knowing how it worked. But his thoughts were lost when she turned to face him. She smiled so lovingly at him and suddenly he seemed to forget how to breath. His heart stopped working. She looked like an angel with a halo of light surrounding her, the glow of the moon hitting her skin making her seem ethereal. Too perfect for this world. And in that moment he wanted her. He wanted to wake up next to her like this everyday. To see her smile. To be her rock in times of need. To be someone to her. Because in that moment he knew. He loved her.

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