Most Of Them Would Win Them Over Right Away, But Others Might Need More Than A First Impression To Win

Most of them would win them over right away, but others might need more than a first impression to win their approval. The dilemma for me would be choosing between all 30 of my fictional husbands!

Hey, here’s a fun selfship game:

If some magical force made your f/o real, would your family approve of them?

I --

Tom Ellis is the ultimate daddy

Chapter one has been posted!!!

It's on my new writing blog!

Oh, yes! You bet I would!!

Peaky Blinders

so mad that I just discover this GREAT show minus I feel like the last season could've been work on a little bit more , now I am a huge fan with nothing else to do but write. Just wondering after two years are there still people out there that would be interested in reading.

Hours of Idleness

Lord Byron x Reader 

I said, I did. Even if I still have to watch the movie. 

When Mary had invited her to join her  and some friends during their stay at Lord Byron’s place, Y/N had hesitated.

The man had a certain reputation. There were a lot of rumours about what was going on in his mansion.

At the same time, Y/N didn’t often get the chance to visit a Lord’s mansion, or spend time with her dear friend Mary. Even though she didn’t approve of all her life choices, like seeing a married man, she liked her very much, she liked their conversations.

Y/N was also very fond of the works of Lord Byron. So it seemed obvious to think that spending a few days at his house would be at least interesting, if it wasn’t too outrageous.

As soon as she arrived, she wondered if she had made the right decision.

Lord Byron came towards them with a furious air, before kissing Mr Shelley.

On the mouth.

He did the same with Mary and Claire, before turning to Y/N.

           "Another lovely lady who doesn’t smile. I’m going to have to get that sunshine out of that sweet face.“

           "Nice to meet you, Lord Byron.” she said, keeping a neutral face, as she had been taught.

           "Oh, my dear. The pleasure is all mine.“

Although it was the first time they had met, he also kissed her, quickly, as if that was perfectly normal, before inviting them inside.

There might still be time to get back in the carriage and go home.

But Y/N was curious. Also fascinated by the places, the atmosphere, the stories. And the man.

Even though he was as eccentric as the rumours claimed, the kiss was the only insane thing he did in her presence. The rest of the time, probably drinking a little too much and speaking far too frankly, he talked about poetry, beauty, freedom and love.

His eyes sparkled when he recited verses, his laughter echoed throughout the room, and he sometimes turned to Y/N with a huge smile.

The fact that she still wasn’t smiling seemed to bother him as much as amuse him. He spent several hours trying to break through what he called her shell.

What he didn’t seem to understand was that the more time she spent with him, the more Y/N really found him charming, and that scared her very much, because the man wasn’t someone serious or constant.

In her humble opinion, despite his grand speeches, he knew nothing about love. About freedom, yes, as he claimed so well, displaying a remarkable open-mindedness, being infatuated with men as much as women, seeing them as equals, not paying attention to their social rank, their skin, their body. He spent entire nights with one or more lovers, nights full of desire and passion.

But that wasn’t love.

For Y/N, love was pure, and deep, and far too complex to attach to more than one object at the same time. She respected that he didn’t want to get married, and that he wanted to have fun, but she couldn’t stand him repeating that he was writing about love.

Probably the fact that she hadn’t succeeded in not loving him didn’t help her annoyance.

She dared to tell him during one of his parties, when he was talking about writing a sonnet for a man he had only seen once, whose name he did not even know, but who had capsized his heart.

           "What are you saying, beautiful lady with the invisible smile ?” he asked, chuckling.

           "I’m saying you don’t know anything about love.“

           "And you do ? A little bird told me that you don’t have much experience in this field.”

           "Your little bird is knowledgeable, but we’re not talking about the same thing. I don’t need to share a bed to know love.“

           "My dear, what audacity.”

           "As always, you do not listen. I have loved and I love with an ardent love. An eternal love, stronger than anything you have ever experienced, because I see beings as they are, and I can no longer be without them. Their absence is torture, finding them is a joy. To see them happy is all I wish in the world, even if it is not with me. You love bodies, and ideas, and feelings, but you don’t get to the bottom of things, ever. You claim that you do, but the surface is enough for you. You’re afraid of the abyss, or you’re not even aware of their existence.“

Lord Byron did not answer. Even though he tried to hide it, her speech had visibly upset him and Y/N went to bed wondering if she had forever ruined her chances of being close to him.

But that didn’t really matter, since she would never have been anything more than a new lover, a little passion before the next ones.

Unable to sleep, she went to the library in the middle of the night. As she had found a story you never read and was walking back to her room, holding a candle in one hand and the book in the other, she heard a noise coming from the bottom of the stairs.

Turning and looking down, she then saw Lord Byron. He looked at her strangely, as if she were a ghost. No doubt he hadn’t expected to find her here at this hour, in her dressing gown.

To prevent the situation from becoming awkward, she decided to pretend he wasn’t there and continued on her way, returning to her bed.

The following days, the guests were all surprised by the absence of their host, who apologized saying that he was indisposed and that he had to be left alone, asking them to have fun without him and not to worry.

When he finally returned, it was to announce that he had just written several poems and stories that he hastened to share with them.

           "My friend.” said Mr. Shelley after finishing his reading. “If I didn’t know you well, I would dare to say that you are in love.”

           "So you don’t know me so well, because not only am I, but I have met Love, the real one, with a capital L, Love incarnated.“

           "What do you mean  ?” wondered Claire.

           "I was wandering among dead stars, lost in this cold world, when suddenly a light caught my attention. I looked up, and there she was, her eyes piercing me, watching my soul and stealing my heart. Her white dress, slightly transparent under the effect of the moon, her face lit by a pale candle, enveloped by her undone hair, and a book resting on her heart. How not to love her ? All that was missing was a smile, a sweet smile, that she refused me again, because she knew that I did not deserve it, because before that night I had pretended to know her. I saw her now, and I had to write, inspired by so much beauty and perfection, which prevented her from falling asleep until I have created a work worthy of her.“

Nobody dared to comment on what he had just said, everyone understanding who he was talking about, preferring not to stare at Y/N to not embarrassed her. Lord Byron didn’t seem to share this thought, uttering a cry of joy and throwing his arms in the sky when he saw her, hidden in a corner of the room.

           "Here she us ! Love !” he said, coming to kneel in front of her. “Oh, I’m not asking you for anything Madam, not even a smile. I won’t even dare to touch you, but let me write on your behalf and lay poems on your altar.”

           "I can’t tell if you’ve lost your mind or having a laugh.“

           "Never !” he said touching her thigh, already forgetting his promise not to touch her. “I love you.”

           "Do you at least remember my name ?“

           "But what is a name ? Shakespeare has proven it, it has nothing to do with love. I read your eyes, I perceived your outlines and now I see you.”

           "Shakespeare wrote about two children who wanted to escape a cruel reality, and who couldn’t stop until it was too late. I beg you to be smarter than them.“

Lord Byron did not listen to her plea, continuing to write, dedicating all his works to his beloved Y/N for long months, long after she had left his home. He also wrote her many letters, which she tried to ignore and to which she only replied out of politeness, trying to forget what she had felt for this man, and maybe was still feeling.

It helped her to repeat to herself that he didn’t mean what he was saying. He was driven by a new madness, a fad. That she didn’t give in to him easily was supposed to keep the flame going, but he would grow weary whether she fell into his arms or not.

The difference was that if she fell, she would regret it all her life, whereas if she resisted, her honour as well as her heart would be safe.

He visited her one day, without being invited of course, nor having asked for an invitation.

           "I missed you, my sweet unsmiling muse. I needed to see you, and talk to you. I want you to know that it’s fine if you never love me. It drives me to despair, but I can understand that a being like me cannot arouse such feelings in you.”

Maybe she could, or should, have used this moment to silence his so-called love forever, and set them both free. But poor Lord Byron looked so sad, so tired, that she couldn’t hold her tongue.

           "I never said that I didn’t love you.“

           "What are you saying ? I dare not believe what I’m hearing. Please, don’t play me.”

           "I would never do such a thing. I said that you don’t know anything about love, and I can say that’s the truth. I know you, I’ve read all your writings, I’ve watched you, I know your humour, your kindness, your intelligence, failings, doubts, fears, your hands which tremble when you drink too much and touch a lover’s skin, in order to forget that you are only a boy in a world too big for him, full of unanswered questions, which pushes him towards the void and of which he tries to fill with his fantasies. Your last writings… I think you sincerely believe that you love me. But it’s not serious. You’ll get tired, as always, and soon you’ll be writing poems for someone else. You love what I represent in your mind, while I love you, even if you’re a idiot.“

The Lord swore she was wrong, that he would love her forever and never write for anyone else again.

Despite his tears and his beautiful phrases, Y/N still refused to believe him, asking him to leave her house and getting up to retire to her room.

           "Marry me !” he said then, throwing himself at her feet.

           "Do you really think marriage is a good thing for love ?“

           "Honestly ? I think it doesn’t really matter, if the love is true. And I truly love you. Even if you don’t marry me, I will love you. Even if we were apart, I will love you. Even if you marry someone else, I will love you. Even if I slept with the whole world, I will love you. Even in the grave, I will love you. My heart is yours. With marriage, everyone would know that, as they would know that you are mine. And if I were to die, you would be safe from any needs.”

           "Possessiveness and money. So romantic.“

           "But I don’t care about any of that ! I know you don’t either. I love you and I will love you forever, don’t you understand ? I can still see you, during that night, beautiful, and I can’t think of anything else. Yes, I had lovers in the past, to whom I spoke of love, but I was blind. I like danger, yes. I like difficulty, and challenge. I like also not to hurt others, and I will never force anyone to share my bed. I have always mourned the death of my feelings. But you ! I know that I will love you until the end, no matter what.”

           "I can see you mean every word.“ she said, kissing him on the forehead, before leaning into his lips, returning the kiss he had given her when they first met. Because even if he was not constant, Lord Byron was not a liar.

           "Will you marry me ? Do you really love me ?”

In response, Y/N smiled at him. He then made a strange face, stopping to breathe for a moment, getting up by putting a hand on his heart, as if he was going to feel faint.

           "What is it again ?“ she sighed, still smiling, accustomed to his eccentricities.

           "I didn’t think it was possible. I didn’t think I could love you more. But what a glorious sight. What radiant majesty. I’ve imagined that smile for so long and nothing compares to it. You’ve robbed me of this wonder all this time, I am hurt by it my dear. Oh, give me that smile again, please.”

This made her laugh, and with teary eyes, half joking, the Lord continued his speech, declaring that her laughter was the most melodious sound in the world, which he had never had the chance to hear before, and that he had to take leave immediately to write an ode to this new music.

           "You are insane.“ laughed Y/N.

           "Insane for you, no doubt, Lady Byron.”

           "Not yet.“

           "In my heart, for a very long time, and forever.”

And as he walked away after kissing her finger where her wedding ring would soon be, Y/N looked at him, unable to stop smiling.  

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Leafy Dividers | Free to a good home.

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