#unfriendly countries
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Unfriendly countries according to Russia vs countries where you can drink tap water.
via @spartakhero
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Here's British Overseas Territories in Putin Unfriendly List
Here’s British Overseas Territories in Putin Unfriendly List
The Russian government has added 11 British Overseas Territories to its unfriendly countries list, the Russian Cabinet’s website said on Sunday.
Eleven more British Overseas Territories have been added to the list [of territories] that supported the sanctions imposed by the UK on Russia.
These are:
Bermuda
British Antarctic Territory
British Indian Ocean Territory
Cayman Islands
Falkland…
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his first order of business upon achieving world domination? abolish daylight savings time once and for all.
#// muse status.#// somehow he managed to choose the only african country to live in that still observes DST#// a very vampire unfriendly custom
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Do you actually sell those Gosho boys stickers? Because I'd buy about 10 of them 💙
No kidding so cute
thank you for the interest 🥺
for the moment no,
but i do plan to open international shop for a limited time when i do get my DCMK doujinshi and a few more indulgent dcmk merch made ♥️
do note im from malaysia which can have some crazy shipping fees, (for example: shipping to US cost a minimum of 20 dollar orz)
if you are malaysian you can get my currently available dcmk fanmerch on shopee here
#ask#anon#my country have very unfriendly international shipping price unfortunately#taking the chance to plug my local shop just in case any of my ppl are here 🫡
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Jesus christ goyim are braindead I just saw some cunt - word for word - saying "the Jews are talking about Egypt, they MUST BE planning on invading there to!!!!!!!!!!" like cunt. It's Pesach in a fucking week. Y'know. The holiday about the Jewish exodus from Egypt. As written in the Tanakh. The very well-known story that most people - Jew or goy - know about. You useless fucking moron.
#can you guys spend five minutes being normal about Jews. I'm on my hands and knees begging you I am so fucking tired#also begging you annoying cunts to realise that European Jews are not the only Jews around & plenty of us are Mizrahi or Maghrebi or Arab#or NOT ASHKENAZIM and it is Not Unsusual to see SWANA Jews existing in SWANA countries#I'm so tired bro#captain's log#Darcy don't look#reblogs off because I will be unfriendly about this post
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so transfixed by that map like
armenia: 👍
palestine: 👍
moldova: 👍
puerto rico: that seems too weird we have questions
#moldova isnt like that messed up atm i think but one of my professors is moldovan and says she hasnt been to her home country in years#because its too chaotic. idk if thats a privilege thing or if thats a legit concern#i guess its a green country because its one of the only places where russian is spoken commonly and isnt at war/unfriendly to the us#also look at it they specifically section off the west bank but its still in green#so i guess its chill to just go there and stay for an extended period of time
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Rumors that theyre finally releasing ten to go back to korea . So help me god that better be true.
#Its crazy insane that they had him in china for sooo long like he cant do things there !#Not when the whole country is full up on the thai idol quota with not one but Two thai members in into1#and how unfriendly the industry has been towards idols in the past year. bring him back to korea so he can do what taeyong Thinks hes doing#ten lee#nct#sidney talks shit
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SAG-AFTRA president Fran Drescher's strike announcement speech
youtube
FULL TRANSCRIPT:
Thank you. Thank you everyone for coming to this press conference today. It's really important that this negotiation be covered because the eyes of the world and particularly the eyes of labor are upon us. What happens here is important, because what's happening to us is happening across all fields of labor. By means of when employers make Wall Street and greed their priority and they forget about the essential contributors that make the machine run. We have a problem. And we are experiencing that right at this moment. This is a very seminal hour for us.
I went in, in earnest, thinking that we would be able to avert a strike. The gravity of this move is not lost on me, or our negotiating committee, or our board members, who have voted unanimously to proceed with a strike.
It's a very serious thing that impacts thousands if not millions of people, all across this country and around the world. Not only members of this union, but people who work in other industries that service the people that work in this industry. And so it came with great sadness that we came to this crossroads, but we had no choice. We are the victims here; we are being victimized by a very greedy entity.
I am shocked by the way the people that we have been in business with, are treating us. I cannot believe it, quite frankly. How far apart we are on so many things. How they plead poverty, that they are losing money left and right while giving hundreds of millions of dollars to their CEOs. It is disgusting. Shame on them. They stand on the wrong side of history at this very moment.
We stand in solidarity, in unprecedented unity. Our union and our sister unions and the unions around the world are standing by us, as well as other labor unions. Because at some point the jig is up. You cannot keep being dwindled and marginalized and disrespected and dishonored. The entire business model has been changed. By streaming, digital, AI. This is a moment of history that is a moment of truth. If we don't stand tall right now, we are all going to be in trouble. We are all going to be in jeopardy of being replaced by machines and big business who cares more about Wall Street than you and your family.
Most of Americans don't have more than $500 in an emergency. This is a very big deal, and it weighed heavy on us. But at some point, you have to say no. We’re not going to take this anymore. You people are crazy. What are you doing? Why are you doing this? Privately they all say we’re the center of the wheel. Everybody else tinkers around our artistry, but actions speak louder than words. And there was nothing there. It was insulting.
So we came together in strength and solidarity and unity with the largest strike authorization vote in our union's history. And we made the hard decision that we tell you, as we stand before you today. This is major. It's really serious and it is going to impact every single person that is in labor. We are fortunate enough to be in a country right now that happens to be labor friendly. And yet, we are facing opposition that was so labor unfriendly. So tone deaf to what we are saying. You cannot change the business model as much as it has changed and not expect the contract to change too.
We are not going to keep doing incremental changes on a contract that no longer honors what is happening right now with this business model that was foisted upon us. What are we doing? Moving around furniture on the titanic? It's crazy.
So the jig is up, AMPTP. We stand tall. You have to wake up and smell the coffee. We are labor and we stand tall and we demand respect. And to be honored for our contribution. You share the wealth because you cannot exist without us. Thank you.
#sag-aftra#actors guild strike#fran drescher#sag-aftra strike#current events#writers guild strike#i stand with the wga#wga solidarity#Youtube#wga strike#writers strike
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Tourist/On Visa Reader thinking it's part of the culture for them to be touchy because of König
You don't understand why people always say that Austrians are unfriendly - you met this funny, but a bit weird Austrian guy, and he is so touchy and active towards you, you'd think he is Italian or something! He was a bit quiet at first, when you met at some pub at Vienna - you wanted to go where locals go, having no desire to be like a normal, obnoxious tourist - you're going to the weird places, rare places, to something that you never seen on social media before.
The guy has funny English - a bit of an accent makes it sound higher than normal, that boyish tone as he asks what you're doing here. He has a hand on your thigh almost immediately - it comes naturally, even the way he fights with the end of your shirt feels...normal. He has big hands, and you're a bit drunk and a bit of a sucker for hands like this, so you allow him to put them here. He says it's a cultural thing - something from the culture of the Salzburg mountains and how close people are to each other. It doesn't sound quite right, but you're too drunk on culture to care.
He talks about his country and his job - something like a soldier, he says, and you salute him a bit sluggishly. He gently wraps his fingers around yours to make you salute properly - and you almost fall into his lap because of how careful he is. He handles you like fine china, like a really precious piece of equipment, and you kinda like it. He feels a bit awkward, still; sometimes, he would squeeze your leg a bit too tight and only let go when you whimper - you think he might be nervous about the whole changing into a different language thing. He asks where you're staying, and you tell him about a bit shitty hostel you got a room in - because you wanted to live like a local without being harassed by creepy Airbnb hosts.
He asks if you want him to drive you to it - it's pretty late, and you don't really know the transport system yet. You thought he was too drunk to drive, but he didn't touch a single alcohol drop whole evening - he was just ordering you drinks, from beer to heavy liquor, constantly talking about how you have to try it if you really want to check out the culture. You want to trust him - so you smile at him as he pays for your tab and drives you. You don't recognize the area, but it's because you're a tourist, the first time in the city - he probably knows the roads far better.
When you realise it's not even remotely close to your hostel, he is already dragging you in.
It must be a cultural thing, too.
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Russia's unfriendly countries list in 2023
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Demo out
Demo
[Current word count without code: 11465 with two branches]
Life is unpredictable.
You have just been to your first party, with hope for a different, better, and more social future, but instead of waking up with a hangover, you wake up 13 months of coma later, severely ill and with no chance to build the life you wanted to live.
Confined at home, confined to the night by your medication, deprived of outside contact to keep stress away from you, and with food that tastes like iron, all you have is your loving family and the small village they have moved to during your long sleep.
The house is old, dilapidated, the neighbours unfriendly and distant, looking at you with strange eyes, whispering whenever you see them, treating you like your illness is contagious.
But why has your family never taken you to the hospital for a checkup?
Since when do hospital doctors make frequent home visits, and only when their patient isn’t conscious?
What would happen if you open the curtains they tell you to keep closed?
The game is intended for a mature audience.
Blood
Violence
Self-harm (for a reason)
Murder
Assault
Brainwashing
Dysfunctional relationships
Co-dependency
Death
And many more.
Depending on the route you take, Cailean, your character, can not be said to be an innocent or good person, please make sure that you are okay with playing a non-human MC who might act accordingly.
Mending Yesterday pairs folk believes, old elements, and lore from different media, with Vampyr lifestyle to create a modern portrayal of vampires that retains the classic feel yet gives it a more down-to-earth presentation.
You take the place of an established character and turn the tale into your very own, form the adventure and how the protagonist faces his new reality.
Will you change Cailean’s behaviour over the course of the story, develop a new personality for your new life, or will you cling to your old self despite the consequences it could have?
Will you keep to yourself and your loved ones, build something new to spend your long life, or get involved in a struggle that isn’t yours?
How will others see you, who are your friends and foes?
Do you stick to those who are seemingly safe, or will you place your own judgement?
The game doesn’t give you an overpowered protagonist, you aren’t the chosen one, won’t save the world or change it in any meaningful way.
You are just a 19-year-old young man being in the wrong place at the wrong time, all you can do is live your own life that, in the grand scheme of eternity, is nothing but a fleeting picture.
Taking place in a fictional village in Ireland, the game takes a step away from the Urban-Vampire trope and focuses on dynamics commonly found in, very, rural places.
While I have abstained from using phonetics to make it easier for people not familiar with the country, selected sayings and use of words have been kept to preserve the feeling.
Mending Yesterday is most and foremost a horror-drama, character-driven and story-heavy, not a dating game.
The only romantic candidate (male) is a central character and the relationship with him greatly influences the plot instead of being flavour or a sidenote; you can stay distant, friendly, close or even loving, all four options significantly shape your personal story.
Being a family-person, you will have to keep an eye on your parents and brother, how you react to the changes in your life, respond to situations, and how you treat them has a direct impact on how your adventure will go.
A character and relationship focused narrative requires you to think twice about how you interact with others, pay attention not only to yourself but those you meet, decide wisely about how to treat them and with whom you want to be close with.
There are relationship-stats you can and should check regularly, for they keep track not only of your bonds but could give you valuable information, yet they won’t ever tell you clearly what they mean.
Just like in real life, people aren’t open books.
Every choice you have to make is meaningful, it either changes or determines something important; you won’t be continuously prompted to make decisions.
The game doesn’t bother with flavour.
Routes are roughly equally long, with several endings dedicated players can try to find.
Prologue
Cailean Morrison, whose place you take, is a 19-year-old geriatric-psychology freshman.
Calm, quiet, and slightly distant, he was never good at making connections and even worse at maintaining them.
He loves his family above all else, has a good heart, and is very fond of older folks.
James Morrison, Cailean’s father, 46 years old, family lawyer.
He’s a sensible, somewhat emotional person, bad at dealing with negative experiences, and generally a kind soul.
Aileen Morrison, Cailean’s mother, 44 years old, elementary school teacher.
While she loves her family and students, she can be very strict and vengeful, knows how to stay calm in difficult situations, and often keeps her emotions to herself.
Alfred Morrison, Cailean’s brother, 24 years old, investment banker.
Although he was wild in his youth, he’s hardworking and cunning, and while usually perceived as friendly, he has well-hidden sharp edges and a ruthless nature.
Choices will determine which talent you are proficient in, while some increases might be obvious, others are hidden behind story-progression.
You can’t fail skill-checks, instead they will change the story depending either on which talent you are most versed in, or if you are generally lacking - and they might have an impact on how other characters feel about you.
The game is in active development.
Planed additions include more visual elements, incidental music, and a compendium that tracks information the player has found (coming in the Chapter 1 update).
As a solo dev who does everything by himself, music and visuals are not my priority and will be included only in major updates.
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I had an idea earlier about buck x reader, where after buck and the other 2 escaped and left bucky behind in part 9, they stumble upon a house near the forest (after the german kid soliders attacked them).
The reader lives there and she basically helps them hiding for a bit and also returning to the english base. She is against the war (which is the reason she helps them) and maybe a little angst where buck needs to protect her at the base bc she is still a german citizen.
What do you think?
hi! thank you for your request! 💞 honestly, I think it's the first 100% angst piece I have written for Buck because even the ones with sad events that I have posted so far had happy endings... but not this one 😅 since I have already written a similar fic and didn't want to repeat the same ending... I couldn't think of anything else how they could have their happily ever after 😪 I hope you can forgive me 💔
I had to currently close the requests because I got so many so I'm working on them atm 🙏🏻
In the heart of the enemy’s territory, he felt like a chased wild animal. Even though he was still human enough not to pull a trigger at a brainwashed German kid, Buck Cleven felt like a prey with nothing but survival on his mind. The forest was dark, muddy and unfriendly. A never ending maze with predators hiding all around. A thought of his dead friend and a thought of Bucky left behind were what kept him sane. The sun was going down slowly and he had no idea where to go. His other friend, Bill, was right behind him.
“Buck,” he hissed and waved his hand to make them both freeze in place. “There’s a house,” he pointed at the dark and old building by the country road behind the trees. “We’re close to town.”
“The lights are off. Maybe it’s inhabited,” Buck pointed out. “If it’s the case, we can find some supplies there.”
“Shall I go and check?” Bill asked.
“No, I will go,” Buck nodded and clutched on the gun in his hand hidden under the coat.
He walked carefully and slowly, making sure not to make too much noise, with his back hunched and breath steady. His blue eyes scanned the garden behind the house. It had herbs growing there but it was messy and the windows were dirty. Everything looked as if it was abandoned.
Encouraged by the looks of it, Buck walked to the front of the house and tried to push the door open but they were locked. However, the door was wooden and old, all it took was another, stronger push to open them wide with a loud squeak that made him wince.
He waited for a while to make sure there were no footsteps approaching him but when he heard nothing but silence, he entered the house and walked around curiously as the last rays of the sun going down lit the walls and the pictures hung on them. There were mostly family portraits and religious images – everything cosy and very cottage-like. There was only one portrait of a young soldier in a Wehrmacht uniform but his face was so friendly and sad that Buck didn’t even feel any hatred looking at it.
Focused on the picture, he lost his focus for a while. And then he heard a small noise and turned around with widened eyes as he spotted a young, scared woman in the corner of the room. She had a gun, too. Her hands were shaking and her pupils were huge out of fear but she was pointing the gun at him. He didn’t know if he should raise his hands and give up or point the gun at her in return – it was very doubtful she would actually pull the trigger.
He trusted no one. When he took a small step ahead to test her, she startled but she didn’t unload the pistol. So he pointed his own weapon at her and in that moment she dropped her gun and lifted her hands up while sobbing.
“P-Please, no,” she pleaded in English. “Please, don’t kill me,” her whispers were broken and shaky and Buck felt bad for her. Did she live in that house?
“Do you live here alone?” He asked, trying not to sound too nice. She nodded. “How so?”
“I lived here with my brother and my papa,” she explained and pointed her finger at the portrait on the wall carefully. “They took my brother away. In the beginning of the war. He didn’t come back. My papa, he was old now. But they took him too a few weeks ago. Because they need more men,” she was looking for the right words with her limited vocabulary.
“How do you know English?” Buck raised an eyebrow at her.
“Papa taught us. He was a soldier in the last war. He met the English and the Americans. He was a captive,” she explained and sniffled her tears. “Please, don’t kill me,” she begged once more and Buck felt stupid for still pointing his gun at her. He lowered his hand and she sighed out of relief.
“Do you need help?” He asked. Something about her and the state of this house made him forget about his own tragic situation at the moment. She was a young woman left alone in the middle of nowhere in a country that was on the verge of losing the war. It was not safe for her and she looked weakened as if she had not had any proper meal in a long while.
“Do you?” She asked.
“Me and my friend… He’s inside the forest… We ran away from the camp, too. We are American pilots. We need to get to the American soldiers. Do you know where we can find them?” Buck asked.
“They are in town,” the girl nodded. “I can take you to them tomorrow,” she offered.
“Why not now?”
“Because it’s dark already. And you need rest,” she pointed out. Buck squinted his eyes at her. “I don’t have a phone here. And German police are not here anymore. You are safe,” she assured him. “Tell your friend to come here,” the girl crouched down and picked up her gun again. Buck clutched on his but she hid hers into the pocket of her patched dress. “It’s not loaded,” she revealed to him with a sad smile. “I lost all my bullets two weeks ago when a few strange men came here and I had to scare them off.”
Buck nodded and slowly walked out of the house. He still was not sure if she was trustworthy but he craved nothing but rest. He came back for Bill and told him about the situation they had found themselves in.
“I’m not sure, Buck,” he shook his head. “Listen, what if I go there and scare her, steal some food and we run to that town on our own?” He proposed.
Buck understood where his friend was coming from. And he did not judge him. However, he did not agree to his plan.
“No,” he only said. “It’s just a girl.”
“They’re all just girls and boys. Like the kids back there in the forest,” Bill reminded him.
“I know. But she’s not like them.”
“How do you know that?” Bill requested an explanation.
“I just know,” was all Buck could say as he nodded at his friend to follow him.
Reluctantly, Bill went to the house after Buck. The girl was sitting by the round kitchen table and lighting a few candles. She looked up, giving them a doe-eyed look.
“I don’t have electricity here anymore,” she confessed. “But the candles are fine,” she added. “Here, I collected some of my brother’s and papa’s clothes for you to change. When I take you to town tomorrow, I don’t want anyone to know who you are. In the forest… There are a lot of people you can’t trust,” she explained.
“And you?” Bill asked, still not convinced. “Why can we trust you?”
“You have to,” she looked at him and then she turned around to point at the kitchen cabinet. “I don’t have much food left. And the fridge doesn’t work without electricity. I have some cans and a few wild berries I picked in the forest. Some cheese they gave me in town out of mercy.”
“We don’t want to eat your food,” Buck assured her. “Only a little bit.”
“I’m hungry,” Bill added and Buck shot him an unpleasant glance.
“So is she. And the food is hers. She doesn’t have to help us, you know?”
Bill went silent and took a pile of clothes to the living room where he began to change. Buck was left alone with the girl in the kitchen. She was looking down nervously, focusing on his hands to avoid his eyes.
“And what is your name?” He asked her out of courtesy.
“It’s (Y/N),” she whispered. “And yours?”
“I’m Major Gale Cleven,” he reached his hand out and she hesitantly shook it. She also dared to look up and meet his gaze. Buck felt his heart skipping a beat at the sight of how sad and broken those young eyes were.
Back where he was from, young girls were not affected by the war like this. Sure, they were worried about their husbands, fathers and brothers. But they were still drinking coke, danced at the parties, whined at the shortage of nylon and drew the lines on their calves to imitate the tights. They were slowly getting used to wearing jeans as they overtook the factories, they were poster girls and had their hair done up in victory rolls. They were marking the letters with red and pink lipsticks and perfumes. And this young girl in front of him already had the eyes of a very old and wise woman. It shouldn’t be like this.
“Major Gale Cleven,” she repeated. “Sounds like from a movie.”
He was just Buck. Nothing special at all. He was not even from Hollywood or New York. But to her he was already unrealistic enough. She batted her eyelashes and looked away, shyly.
“Not really,” Buck tried to convince her and she gave him a sad smile.
Bill came back in new clothes. It was Buck’s turn now but he was afraid of leaving (Y/N) alone with his friend, so he kept staring at them awkwardly.
“Go,” Bill rolled his eyes. “I won’t hurt her,” he promised.
So Buck grabbed a pile of clothes preparead for him and went to the living room to change as fast as possible. When he came back to the kitchen, Bill was already eating some canned food with a slice of cheese and a few wild berries. A similar meal was waiting for Buck, too. (Y/N) was sitting by the table but she had no food in front of her.
“And you?” He asked her as he sat down.
“I already ate,” she told him but he had a feeling she lied so he pretended to be full already after eating a half of the plate. He offered her the rest and she eagerly took it from him as her eyes sparkled. It was probably her first “proper” meal on that day.
After they ate, (Y/N) showed them to their rooms. One belonged to her father and it was downstairs. Upstairs there were two tiny bedrooms. One was hers and one was her brother’s. She wanted Buck to sleep in it. She didn’t have to say it out loud but he knew that she trusted him more than she trusted his friend. Bill was not complaining because the room downstairs was bigger and had a nicer bed.
When Bill was already in the bedroom given to him, (Y/N) was helping Buck to put the sheets on. He was insisting there was no need but she tried her best to be a good host even in such gruesome circumstances.
“When I do this… It’s a bit like… It’s still normal, you know?” She tried to explain the best she could. He nodded at her. He understood. “There you go,” she fixed the sheets for the last time and looked down proudly at the made up bed.
“Thank you,” Buck nodded and sat on the edge of the bed. He looked up at the poster on her brother’s wall. It was very old and the colours were faded away now but he could recognise it. It was a movie poster of Charlie Chaplin’s movie City Lights.
“My brother liked Charlie Chaplin,” (Y/N) smiled. “And the films. Especially American ones. He didn’t get to see many but he liked the posters,” she explained. “When he was able to see a film, he would come back home and tell me everything about it.”
“I hope he’s alright,” Buck tried to cheer her up.
“He died,” she explained and he felt a stinging pain in his heart.
“You only said he hadn’t come back…”
“They sent us a medal and all. He’s dead,” she explained. “But papa threw the medal away. It’s in the river now.”
“Why?”
“Because he didn’t like Hitler. And my brother didn’t like him either,” she nodded. “I wish he was here, my brother. He would like you,” she added before finally approaching the door to leave him alone for the night. “Good night,” she walked away and closed the door quietly.
Buck was exhausted but he couldn’t sleep that night. He couldn’t stop thinking about the girl. What would happen tomorrow? She would take them to town, drop them off with the Americans and then what? She would just go back here? To that awful house in the middle of nowhere where she was starving and not safe? He hated to even think of such a possibility.
The walk to town was stressful and everyone kept giving them funny and suspicious looks. However, (Y/N)’s poker face and determination managed to take them to the town centre safely. It looked awful and empty – like a ghost town. She pointed at one of the soldiers patrolling the street and told them he was an American.
“Go to him,” she only said and turned around to walk away but Buck grabbed her by the sleeve of her coat and Bill hissed at him. Buck didn’t listen to that.
“What about you?” Buck asked her and her eyes widened.
“What do you mean? I don’t want him to see me,” she explained.
“You’re just going back home now?”
“Yes,” she nodded.
“No,” Buck shook his head. “You’re coming with us.”
“What are you doing, Gale?” Bill asked, irritated.
“She deserves a warm meal at least,” Buck insisted and kept a tight grip on (Y/N)’s sleeve as they all approached the suspicious soldier.
They lifted their hands up and explained who they were. Their accents and believable numbers of their units made the patrolling soldier less hostile. But then he laid his eyes on the girl.
“And her?” He asked.
“She’s with us. She helped us,” Buck told him.
“I know her. She lives in this town,” the soldier squinted his eyes at (Y/N) and she took a deep breath in. “She’s German.”
“Yes, she helped us last night. We wouldn’t be here if it was not for her,” Buck repeated. “Listen, I just want her to eat something warm, alright?”
The soldier called for a few other men who came quickly after and had a short and quiet discussion. Eventually they nodded their heads at them and led them inside of a building full of soldiers. They all looked up curiously and suspiciously.
Bill left Buck’s side quickly to talk to the men stationed there. But Buck didn’t leave (Y/N)’s side as he felt he had to look after her in this place. They were given a proper, warm meal and they sat by the table in the corner. She was eating fast and with shaky hands like a starving child given food after a long while. Buck’s heart broke and he reached his hand out to hold one of her cold ones. She looked up, scared, and he smiled softly.
“Slow down,” he only whispered.
“The women here are nothing special,” one of the men sitting by the table nearby commented. “You should have seen the French ones,” he whistled.
Buck didn’t react to that as his jaw clenched. (Y/N) ignored that comment, too, but her eyes were saddened.
When she was done with her meal, Buck approached the man in charge of the unit and asked if they could give her a few cans of food and some other supplies. The man did not want to agree.
“We’re short on them ourselves, Major Cleven,” he explained.
“Yes, sir, I understand, sir. But she lives alone in the middle of nowhere. Her brother is dead, her father most likely, too. She helped us. She’s a good woman, sir,” Buck tried to convince him.
“There is no doubt about that, son. I’m sorry. She’s not the first and not the last good woman suffering in this war.”
Buck felt defeated and helpless when he approached (Y/N) who was already preparing to leave.
“I’m sorry. I couldn’t convince him to give you supplies,” he admitted, ashamed of himself.
“It’s fine. I’ll be fine,” she tried to assure him and squeezed his arm. “You’re a good man,” she added. “Thank you for the meal… And the kindness.”
“I should be the one thanking you more,” he couldn’t help himself and he fixed her ruffled hair. Everything about her was screaming inside of him to help her, to take care of her. But he couldn’t and it was killing him. “I will never forget you, German girl.”
“And I will never forget you, Major Cleven,” she smiled and he could only watch her walk away, approaching the small road leading back to the forest.
If Bill hadn’t been there with him, he would have started thinking that she was nothing but a forest fairy he had imagined. After all he was in a land of fairytales.
MASTERLIST || BUCK MASTERLIST
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Tangled Hearts - Fitzwilliam Darcy X Female Reader
Title: Tangled Hearts
Fitzwilliam Darcy X Female Reader
(Could be seen with either BBC Darcy or the 2005 Darcy; I personally see it as the 2005 version/settings based off the 2005 one)
Additional Characters: Reader's parents, Charles Bingley, Caroline, George Wickham (Mentioned), Jane Bennet (Mentioned), Georgiana Darcy (Mentioned), other random people (Mentioned), Albert Wright (OC), Mr. Took (OC) (Mentioned), and Duke Phillip Colston (OC) (Mentioned)
WC: 7,526
Warnings: Typical Pride and Prejudice era misogyny and so on, toxic parents, Reader is mentioned to wear dresses and heels, Reader hates balls, society sucks, Caroline, banter, gossip, arranged marriages, Darcy's in love, scandals mentioned, yelling, crying, Charles is the voice of reason, itty bit of suggestion (time period wise), angst, and fluff
Pemberley. Your home away from home. The large country estate was gorgeous, surrounded by vivid green grass, and which sat across a crystal clear lake. You loved Pemberley not only for its beauty, but because the place had become your own haven of peace and solitude. It was where you could be yourself without worrying about being judged or ostracized.
Though, during the time, you always were forced to look so prim and proper, on days where you had no other responsibilities, you would sneak out to sit on the soft grass outside. That was the only time you really felt free.
As a child, you visited Pemberley more often than not. Your family were great friends with the Darcys and Bingleys, resulting in you spending a lot of time at the residence and within their presence. You had become close friends with Charles Bingley - his sister, Caroline, not so much - George Wickham, and Fitzwilliam Darcy.
During your later adolescent years, you had briefly traveled to the Longbourn estate, where you had grown close to Jane and Elizabeth Bennet, despite your parent's wishes. Your mother specifically didn't want you spending time with those in the Middle Class. That didn't stop you though.
Out of the three, Charles, Caroline, and Fitzwilliam, you spent most of your time with the latter. And eventually Georgiana Darcy in the later upcoming years. Ever since you were a young child, you would travel to Pemberley with your parents, occasionally playing with the young Darcy if you were both not in lessons with your shared tutor.
You never really understood why both you and Fitzwilliam were tutored together, you never voiced your questions out loud, in fear of being scolded. But, during your many years in the company of Fitzwilliam, the two of you became very close friends, which was only natural having grown up together.
As the years went on, your parents began forcing you to attend balls, and at the age of twenty-two, you began to realize that they were actively looking for a suitable husband for you. You had a distaste for the idea, but were forced to comply, knowing that they would not end the search, no matter how many times you had voiced your own wishes.
Thankfully, Charles, Caroline, and Fitzwilliam were usually always attended. And occasionally, you'd spend time with Jane and Lizzie when they attended the same events, but otherwise, you would stand on the sidelines with Fitzwilliam as everyone else danced.
Your personality, though more reserved, wasn’t lacking. You had a great sense of humor, a sharp intellect, and an excellent memory. You enjoyed reading books and watching plays and operas; at a time wishing you could play a part in either one. You were kind, and generous to a fault; which, when you were younger, had gotten you into some trouble at times. You were very free-spirited, not afraid to speak your mind in certain situations; which your parents thought resulted in you spending too much time with Elizabeth Bennet.
Fitzwilliam, though holding many similar interests, his demeanor was seemingly unfriendly, aloof, and unapproachable. He kept to himself, rarely engaging in social activities and never participating in conversations unless spoken to first. And while he was a bit arrogant and proud, he was actually very caring and understanding towards the ones that he held in high esteem. He still remained distant from most people, preferring to watch them from afar with a critical, often anxious - though, he was rather good at hiding it, gaze.
You usually stood on the sidelines with Fitzwilliam at balls, only occasionally dancing with some random man your parents wanted you to dance with; in hopes some spark ignites. But, you disliked dancing, especially with strangers, and preferred to read books and relax in your room. Fitzwilliam, ever the gentleman, would start up some sort of conversation with you, albeit awkwardly. Though it happened rarely, it was always welcome; all the balls that you have ever been to have always been dreadful, but less so with Fitzwilliam there.
Balls had become associated with finding suitors and respectable husbands, rather than having fun and enjoying yourself, and you were beginning to resent that aspect of life. You knew that there was going to be a very low chance, or none at all, that you would be allowed to choose your own husband; or even have any say in the arrangement in the first place. If you did have a choice, you would choose Fitzwilliam. A few years prior, you noticed that you had developed feelings for him, feelings that were growing every single day.
You greatly admired Fitzwilliam, his intelligence, kindness, gentleness, handsomeness, and overall good nature. But you said nothing of it. You knew you had no choice in who you were going to marry - whether you liked it or not. So you kept your head down and tried not to think of it too much. Though, it was hard to not think about him, you spent a lot of time with the man after all. But, being a very respectable and composed young woman, you didn't show most of your emotions to others.
As an Upper Class woman, you were required to follow every rule laid out by your parents and society. You also had a duty to act demure in public, especially during formal events, and to appear to be a perfectly poised young lady. This was something that you hated, not being able to express yourself freely, or to be your true self. But, you were really good at it. Being taught to hold unwanted emotions at bay, which you had learned to hold certain romantic feelings for Fitzwilliam in a tightly controlled manner.
Sitting in one of the many sitting rooms in Pemberley, you quietly sipped your tea with Fitzwilliam and Caroline. It was silent, aside from the occasional clink of a tea cup being placed upon a small saucer, the sound of Fitzwilliam's quill upon the parchment, and the sound of you turning the pages of your book as you read. Whilst your mind was elsewhere, you hardly noticed Caroline as she read some letter about a scandal some banker was in before hearing your friends, Elizabeth Bennet's presence being announced.
"Miss Elizabeth Bennet."
Shutting your book, you let a small smile grace your features as Lizzie entered, her hair down and mud on her shoes. She gave a polite smile, looking around the room as Fitzwilliam stood and gave a curt bow of the head. Setting your book on the table before you, you walked over to the young woman, greeting her with a quick hug.
After a moment of silence, Caroline quietly gasped, "Good lord, Elizabeth. Did you walk here?”
"I did..." She answered as you both pulled away from the hug.
"Lizzie, it is so good to see you. Are you well? It has been ages since we last spoke." You asked, "I hope you won't become ill. It was rather chilly out this morning."
"I am well, thank you. And yourself?" She asked softly.
Clasping your hands together before you, you nodded, "I am doing marvelously, thank you. We will have to have tea together sometime soon, I miss our riveting conversations."
Lizzie's smile widened, "Of course." After another slightly awkward moment, she continued, "I'm so sorry, how's my sister?" She brought her eyes to Fitzwilliam and Caroline.
"She's upstairs." Fitzwilliam answered and Elizabeth nodded.
"Thank you." With one last look and smile towards you, she left the room with haste.
Letting out a small sigh, you walked back to the table, sitting back down in your seat and reopening your book. "My goodness, did you see her hem? Six inches deep in mud. She looked positively medieval." She mocked with amusement in her tone, and you rather hoped that she would finish speaking, but she wasn't done. Caroline then turned to you, and braced yourself for her words, "That was rather unlady-like, wasn't it?" She asked, as you flipped to the next page of your book.
"May I ask you to elaborate, Caroline?" You asked, barely giving the woman a glance as you continued reading. Ever since you were a young child, you and Caroline had never seen eye to eye. You weren't exactly fond of each other, and you didn't care to try getting along any better than you already did.
"Greeting her in such a manner." Caroline responded as she picked up a small finger sandwich.
You flipped to the next page, "Isn't it rather unlady-like to bring yourself into one's business, Caroline?" You asked, looking up to look at the women with a raised eyebrow. She only said nothing, letting out a small scoff as she looked away. "Oh, Caroline, dear... You have a little bit of something..." You began, lightly tapping the side of your mouth; even though she had nothing even blemishing her face.
Caroline quickly snatched a napkin from the table, dabbing the corner of her mouth. If she was embarrassed, she didn't show it, but you could tell by the way she fidgeted slightly in her seat that she was anything but pleased. Before going back to your book, you glanced over at Fitzwilliam, who had sat back down minutes ago, a very, very small smile on his face; his eyes held some amusement. Smiling lightly yourself, you went back to your book and tea.
~~~
It was a particular sunny day, birds singing in the trees, and clouds rolling through the sky. It was a beautiful afternoon, and you were enjoying it immensely. The weather was perfect for taking a stroll in the countryside, and if you were being honest, you loved being outdoors. The sun felt warm and inviting against your skin, the breeze gently blowing past you caused your dress to flutter a bit in the breeze. Carrying your book in your hand, you found a nice grassy spot to sit, not too far from Pemberley, but close enough to the lake that you felt at ease. You opened your book to where you had left off earlier and took a deep breath, trying to clear your mind of any unpleasant thoughts.
You did not know how much time had passed before you heard footsteps, but you didn't bother looking up. When the person then took a seat beside you on the grass, you moved your gaze away from your book, looking up. There sat Fitzwilliam, his expression unreadable. "How may I be of service, Fitzwilliam?" You asked, placing your bookmark between the pages of your novel, closing it gently and setting it in your lap.
"I had been looking for you," He began, staring straight ahead, "May I accompany you for a while?" He added, and you nodded.
"As you wish." You replied, "I'd love the company, Fitz." He didn't say anything else, just giving you a short nod, a barely visible smile before looking off at the lake.
You went back to your book, opening it once more to where you had left off, but you didn't feel like continuing. It seemed that he had something on his mind, and it seemed that he wasn't in the mood to talk about it. Perhaps it would do him good to get it off his chest. But you knew better in asking him to do such, though he was pretty open with you in general, Fitzwilliam was quite reserved when it came to matters of the heart; he'd hide things behind a façade of calm and composure when talking to those around him. So you didn't say anything, didn't push him, allowing Fitzwilliam to take his time.
After a couple of minutes, he finally spoke, "What is it that you are reading?" He asked, turning his gaze to the book in your hands.
Looking up, you meet his gaze, "It's called 'Emma.' It speaks of a young woman who thinks of herself as a matchmaker." You replied softly.
"Ah. I suppose I should not be surprised that your reading has led you to romantic literature." Fitzwilliam commented.
"Well, I wouldn't say that." You countered. "I simply find them fascinating, as they give me new perspectives." You explained, tilting your head to the side slightly, "Have you read this publication?" You asked, motioning towards the book in your lap.
"No, I have not. I believe Miss Caroline had mentioned it in passing once." He admitted, and you gave a small hum in response. "Though she was not seemingly fond of it."
You lightly scoffed, turning to stare at the lake before you, "I would suspect that she finds it distasteful." Another silence washed over the two of you, and you found yourself looking at Fitzwilliam. You could sense an uneasiness in his gaze, though there was something else there, as well. You wanted to ask what was bothering him, but you decided against it, knowing better than to pry into the affairs of another person. However, you were curious, and as you watched his eyes dart across the water, you knew you needed to speak. "Are you feeling alright, Fitz?" You questioned softly.
Fitzwilliam looked over at you, staring at you before speaking, "I apologize if you feel that I am acting peculiar..."
"Do not worry. You are not behaving strangely." You assured him, smiling slightly, "I am just worried that something might be on your mind."
Fitzwilliam pursed his lips briefly, his blue eyes locked with yours. The way you looked at him caused his stomach to flutter nervously, your overall presence made him nervous, and the overwhelming pounding of his heart was deafening. Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy was completely and utterly hopelessly in love with you. How could he ever resist you? He wanted nothing more than to hold you in his arms, kiss you until the world disappeared, and tell you everything. But that would be highly inappropriate and perhaps even selfish, and he knew that. He had no right to ask such of you, and he knew that; he pushed those desires aside immediately and forced himself to think rationally.
"Would it be presumptuous of me to inquire as to if you are going to be attending the ball this fortnight?" He finally asked, his voice low, his eyes flickering over your features.
Your heart skipped a beat upon hearing the question, and you could not help but swallow dryly. "Yes, I will be attending. As you know, my parents wouldn't allow me to miss the event, even though I would much rather be reading in my room." You answered, trying to keep the trepidation out of your voice.
"I must agree with you. I would much rather be alone in my room as well." He replied quietly, lowering his gaze back to his own lap.
"Well," You sighed out, grabbing your book once more, "At least we will have each other's presence to distract us from the tedium of the events." You said in an attempt to lighten the air, but he only offered a small chuckle before he turned his gaze back to the lake.
Silence fell over the both of you again, with the soft sound of the wind rustling through the leaves and the birds flying overhead filling the space between the two of you. The atmosphere was peaceful, as it always was whenever you were together. For you, the silence was comforting, and Fitzwilliam enjoyed the silence as well. It was rare when the both of you had the chance to have a quiet moment together, so this was always a treat for you both.
~~~
Standing at the edge of the room, in your best dress from the newest season, you stood beside Fitzwilliam as the ball was in full swing. Your eyes surveyed the large room, glancing from the dancing couples, people chatting amongst their family, friends, etcetera, and finally, your parents. They stood, speaking with a man, whom you couldn't quite place his name on. From where you were, you could not understand fully what they were saying, which worried you slightly.
And it seemed that Fitzwilliam had noticed your straying gaze on your parents, and how your satin-gloved hands fumbled together nervously in front of you.
"Do not mind them." He muttered to you, leaning slightly towards you so you could hear him over the music.
"It is hard not to, Fitz," You spoke, turning your gaze away from your parents and back out upon the dancing. "They've been trying to find me a husband for the past couple of months. I am hoping at some point they will give up in their search."
"By the way that you speak, it would seem that you do not wish to marry." Fitzwilliam said, and you turned your head to look up at him.
"You know me, Fitzwilliam." You sighed, shaking your head slightly, "I do not want to marry someone I am unsure of. Besides, there were many whom were willing to offer marriage to a lady like me, and many of them, if I must say so myself, were handsome in all senses of the word. But from the few who have offered me marriage, I have turned away. I know that they had only seen my wealth, status, and looks rather than my personality. And I find that I cannot fathom the idea of marrying someone so shallow, or lacking in depth and solidity for that matter."
"I admire your strength of character." He said, looking down at you.
"Thank you, Fitz." You smiled sweetly up at him. "I admire your kindness and integrity." You added, your smile becoming genuine as he returned your smile with one of his own; though hardly noticeable.
"Daughter," Your gaze swiftly moved from your long-time friend to your mother, who stood with your father, and another gentleman you have never met before. "I would like you to meet Mr. Albert Wright. He's the owner of the Wright & Co. bank here in England." She informed you, a smile on her face, but her eyes held such excitement.
This Albert fellow was certainly some character, judging by his attire. His suit had a deep black waistcoat, a dark green vest, black breeches, and black shoes. And despite his clothing being quite plain, he did make an imposing figure; he was tall and broad, with a strong jawline, and he appeared to be very well built. His hair was dark brown, curly, and cut short, and his eyes a brilliant green.
You curtsied to him, trying to be as polite as possible, "It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr. Wright." You greeted, forcing a smile upon your face.
"Please, call me Albert." He spoke, his voice deeper than you expected. Surprising you further as he bows his head and then offers you his hand. "May I have the honor of asking you to dance, my lady?"
The thought of taking his hand made you nervous, yet you took it regardless; not wanting to cause a scene or to upset your mother and father. Fitzwilliam stood helplessly as he watched you being led across the room by Mr. Albert just as another song began; his frown deepened, his eyes narrowing slightly as he watched as you danced with Mr. Albert.
"Lovely match, don't you think, Mr. Darcy?" Your mother asked Fitzwilliam as she watched you dance with the banker.
Fitzwilliam reluctantly spoke, "I suppose so." He responded nonchalantly, averting his gaze momentarily before looking back over at you once more. Fitzwilliam had recognized the name Albert Wright from a couple of weeks prior. Having heard what the name had done, Fitzwilliam couldn't stop himself from warning your parents about Mr. Albert Wright's past scandal. "Madam, I understand wholeheartedly that you wish only the best for your daughter, but I feel that I must inform you that Mr. Albert was a part of a scandal many years ago regarding an older woman, whose husband was a respected merchant."
Your mother's eyes widened at the news, her hand coming to be placed upon her chest in shock, "Where did you hear of this, sir?" She inquired, your father mirroring his wife's expression, but he said nothing.
"From Miss Caroline, madam." He explained, turning to face the dancing crowd, his eyes following your figure.
Her mouth parted in surprise, her eyes widening further, "This is absolutely unacceptable! Our daughter should not associate with a man like this!" She exclaimed, her tone raising to one of anger as she glared at Mr. Albert.
By the end of the dance, Albert raised your hand and pressed a kiss to your gloved hand, bowing his head as you curtsied. Finally, you had thought, saying your goodbyes and thank yous to the man before heading back to your mother, father, and Fitzwilliam.
As you got closer, your eyebrows furrowed slightly, seeing your mother and father's angry expressions as they spoke to one another. Finding your spot next to Fitzwilliam, you leaned slightly towards the man to speak. "What has gotten my parents in such a temper?" You asked him, noticing his shoulders tensing slightly.
He glanced over at you briefly and shook his head lightly, "I am afraid I don't know. Perhaps it concerns Mr. Albert." He mused softly, keeping his eyes locked onto yours.
"But why is Papa so enraged? I haven't seen him this red since Mr. Took had tried to cheat him out of some money." You commented softly, looking up towards your parents once more.
"I believe it has to do with the fact that Mr. Albert had been a part of a scandal many years back." Fitzwilliam answered, making your jaw drop slightly, your hand coming up to cover your shock.
"And where did you hear of such a thing?" You asked quickly, wanting to know more details as to what scandal that Mr. Albert had gotten involved in.
Fitzwilliam looked down at you for a moment, turning back to the dancing, "If my memory serves me correctly, Miss Caroline had read upon it in a letter."
Trying to hide the smirk on your face, you lightly cleared your throat. "Well, isn't this unexpected," You muttered, amused. "And I could only assume that you had mentioned such news to my parents?" You asked, looking up at the name, eyes glinting with amusement.
Fitzwilliam looked down at you, nodding his head slowly, thinking, "Yes, you would be correct." He confirmed, saying nothing else which only made you smile.
"Well, thank you, Fitz," You began, "Without you, I wouldn't doubt my parents would have me married off to the man." You joked before another peaceful silence engulfed you both - that is, it was peaceful for you.
Fitzwilliam looked down at you from beneath his eyelashes, studying you carefully, almost as if he were trying to memorize every feature of your face. When he realized that he was staring, he quickly turned away, clearing his throat lightly as he gained the courage to offer his hand out. You looked over, looking up at the man, to his hand, and back.
As you raised your eyebrow in question, he finally spoke, "Would you like to dance, my lady?" He asked softly, and you couldn't help the smile that grew on your face. You had your shock well, but you were surprised that
"That sounds lovely." You whispered, placing your hand into his gently.
~~~
The sun was shining brightly as it peeked through the clouds, causing the water to sparkle with each droplet of rain that hit the surface. You love it when the sun's shining and it's raining at the same time. You had started your day as you usually did when you stayed at your family estate; waking up in your lavish bed, before getting ready for the day. Choosing one of your favorite day dresses, you style your hair neatly, grabbing a new book before leaving your chambers. Before breakfast, you did your daily practice on the piano for a moment before sitting in one of the sitting rooms and reading your book.
Joining your mother and father for breakfast, you ate delicious small cakes, breads, and hot coffee. Breakfast was pretty peaceful and quiet, aside from your father occasionally speaking up. After a while, the topic shifted from the conversation regarding your plans for the afternoon, which included spending the time walking about the grounds, as you had previously intended to do earlier in the morning.
You hid your feelings well, but you wished that you were at Pemberley at the moment. You had never really felt comfortable or a part of your family's estate. You loved both your parents dearly, but they were rather strict compared to how you're used to life at Pemberley. In truth, you missed staying there; however, you were happy that you were able to stay with your family once again and you didn't want to disrupt their routine. So, you continued to smile politely through your father's comments and continued to eat your food.
You had begun to zone out at some point of your father's speech, nodding along when you thought necessary when suddenly, you heard your name being called. You snapped your head up to see your mother with a small frown on her face. "Your father had asked you a question, young lady." She informed you. You bowed your head and apologized for spacing out. Your mother sighed, placing her small fork down on her fine China plate. "Your father had asked if you desired to attend the upcoming ball at Pemberley?" Pushing your shoulders back, your mind racking at your mother's words. But before you could answer, your mother cut back in, "We know that you don't have a fondness for such events." Your mother included, which you found odd and surprisingly thoughtful, that she was aware of your dislike for socializing, and was finally letting you have a choice in the matter.
Though, you couldn't help but wonder, why now? What had happened or what had been said that would allow your parents to change their minds? Looking up, your eyes met your mother's, "If I may, mother, I had thought that you would want me to attend such gatherings. Has something happened to change your mind so?" You asked her, tilting your head slightly as you spoke.
Your mother nodded her head, her smile widening with excitement, "Precisely so, but we have splendid news for you." Glancing to your father, he then decided to speak, clearing his throat before doing so.
"Your mother and I have found you a suitor. We have met with him many times over these past few weeks and we have deemed him to be most suitable. We have decided to arrange for your engagement with him." Your father announced.
Your breath caught in your throat, unable to utter even a word. You felt as if the world had begun to crumble around you, all your efforts of being independent forgotten as your father's words sunk in. You wanted the Earth to swallow you whole, the sky to open up and spit you back out, and any other form of escape would be welcomed by you. Your heart ached as your father finished speaking, your fingers twitching slightly as you grasped your fork tightly; your knuckles turning white.
Your lips and mouth felt extremely dry as you opened your mouth and licked your lips, a shaky breath escaping you, "Who have you arranged me with?" You asked, "... If I may inquire?" Your voice was shallow and quiet, your gaze directed downwards.
"Duke Phillip Colston, a very wealthy gentleman who lives here in England." Your father replied, watching you closely as if waiting for you to react. "I believe you'll make a very respectable wife for him, just so as long as you do not cause him too much trouble. He is an eligible bachelor after all." Your father added quietly.
Sighing inwardly, you lifted your head to look at your parents, swallowing heavily, "Do I have any say in this?" You questioned, your voice still weak as your hands clenched into fists under the table. You could feel tears building in your eyes, and you desperately blinked them away, refusing to let them fall as you tried your hardest to keep yourself composed.
"I am afraid not, dear," Your mother answered, "We have gone countless months trying to find you a respectable and kind suitor - a man who is willing and able to take care of you and provide you with all the comforts of society. And yet, all of our attempts have failed." Her tone grew seemingly irritated. "Every man we had brought to you, offering marriage, you have turned away." Her voice rose into one of anger. "You are at a point where men will not even be interested in marrying you, your refusals are becoming the talk of the town, gossip, and blather, and I will not have it." She practically spat angrily, looking up at you with fire in her eyes, a fire that you could not seem to extinguish.
You stared at your mother silently, a slight pain throbbing through your heart as you took in her words, "I understand wholeheartedly, mother," You began, pushing your chair back to stand, and setting your napkin onto your empty China plate. "I will say this, that I have no desire to marry such a man; duke or not. My heart belongs to someone who is worthy of it." You stated firmly. You then turned on your heel, walking out of the room without saying another word.
Once you were out of their sight, knowing that they weren't going to follow you, you ran. Rushing out into the hall, you ignored the odd looks from your family's servants and maids, swiftly making your way to the front doors and stumbling out into the chill air. Breathing heavily, you felt everything rushing through your veins and blood; flowing throughout your body. Without a second thought, you stepped out into the light rain before running once again.
You kept running and running, your feet stomping into the wet grass, hair plastered to your face, cold rain falling onto your face; soaking your dress. You didn't care nor have any mind to where you were running or where you were, you just needed to get away. Away from them. Away from them all. Your life, you had no power, no control over it; no matter how hard you fought against it, you could not escape fate.
You had known that at some point, your parents would grow tiresome of your constant rejection of the men they had brought to you. You knew it was going to be only a matter of time before they would just arrange for you to marry someone else. It was bound to happen sooner or later, considering your age. You weren't getting any younger, and no one wanted a spinster for a daughter.
Still breathing heavily, you came to a stop in a dewy field, your chest rising and falling as you tried to catch your breath. Finally, you let the tears fall from your eyes, your vision blurry as the water streaming down your cheeks. You wiped your cheek with your sleeve as a sob escaped your lips. You collapsed to the ground in a heap, feeling as if your heart was breaking all over again. The day of the shining sun and the falling rain, something that you had once adored, now only seemed to mock you. As you cried softly, ignoring how cold and drenched you were, you did not hear the sounds of hooves, and someone calling your name. Only when you felt someone touch your shoulder, did you look up.
Fitzwilliam's usually stoic expression was long gone, replaced with worry and concern. His brows furrowed together as he looked at your tear-stained cheeks, and your dampened dress. Fitzwilliam slowly helped you to your feet, helping you lean against him as he guided you to his horse. You did not remember much of the ride back to Pemberley, nor entering the large estate, nor when you were rushed off with a couple of housemaids. You felt numb as you were in the bath, hair being washed and skin being scrubbed. During that time, you had only wished the bath water to be scalding.
You were quickly dressed in an afternoon dress - one of the dresses that you had kept in your room for when you stayed at the estate - swiftly, you were brought to your room. You sat on your bed, in the home that you'd grown to love more than your own, gazing out the window as the rain began to slowly cease, revealing a beautiful blue sky. A sigh left your lips as a knock sounded upon your door, pulling you out of your thoughts.
"Enter," You muttered, surprisingly loud enough for the person to hear, as they opened the door.
Turning your attention from the window, you looked over to see Fitzwilliam, the same worry on his beautiful features as when he had found you in the field in the pouring rain. Silently, he sat beside you, leaving enough space to make you feel comfortable. It wasn't long until Fitzwilliam's curiosity and urgency to see whatever was the matter got the best of him. He watched as you fiddled with your fingers and sighed deeply, "What troubles you? Why were you sitting among the fields?" His voice was soft, filled with concern, and you raised your hand to your hair; brushed but not styled.
You felt your eyes well up with tears once more, a breathy sigh leaving your lips before you spoke, "I have been arranged to marry Duke Colston." You answered, a voice at the same level as the man beside you. You couldn't even bear to look at him, if you did, you were sure that the tears in your eyes would become a waterfall.
There was silence for several moments as you awaited Fitzwilliam's response. When finally, you glanced towards him, his gaze was locked straight ahead as if lost in thought, "Is this something that you are unhappy about?" Fitzwilliam inquired, his voice calm.
"Incredibly so," You answered with a breath, "I do not wish to marry that man, nor ever." You said, your words laced with bitterness, looking down at your lap, "But I do not know what to do. Despite everything, I cannot bring myself to refuse." You admitted, feeling guilty as soon as you finished speaking. Though you did not agree with the society that you lived in nor the repressing of women's voices, you knew that this was something that had to be done. Not for you, but for your family, no matter how much you detested the idea. "I will have to go along with the matter, for it pleases my family."
Fitzwilliam stared at the side of your face, subconsciously admiring you as he thought. In his heart, he despised that you were forced to marry someone who was unworthy of you - you did not deserve that, you deserved far better. But what could he do? Again, Fitzwilliam was hopeless. He was unable to do much of anything. Right before him, you were miserable, and he could do nothing but sit here and offer you comfort. He did not even know which he could offer you at this point. He could only watch helplessly as you felt like he was watching you crumble right before his very eyes. His time was up, his hopes diminished, his dreams crushed.
~~~
Fitzwilliam sat in his office, staring down at the many papers and letters before him on his desk. The ticking of the grandfather clock was loud within the silent atmosphere, its deep, heavy, and unenthusiastic noises echoing around the room, as Fitzwilliam tried to force himself to focus. He was not successful, however, as his mind drifted to you every time he closed his eyes. Every time, he would imagine you, dancing with the Duke, marrying the Duke, starting a family with the Duke. Everything that Mr. Darcy himself had desired with you.
He sighed heavily and rubbed at his forehead, closing his eyes briefly as images of you danced across his mind. You, in his arms. Dancing at the ball from only a month ago. You looked up at him with those eyes, those eyes that held his heart. You laughed, and he swore to himself that he would do everything in his power to keep you happy and laughing; he could not lose you. But he did. Why did he not ask for your hand?
A knock sounded at his office door and Fitzwilliam snapped his eyes open, turning his head to face the door. "Enter." He called out, clearing his throat. He watched as Charles Bingley, one of his friends, walked in, bowing slightly before giving him a small smile.
"Her parents have sent a carriage," He spoke to Fitzwilliam, "She'll be leaving soon, Darcy."
Fitzwilliam nodded, placing his quill back on top of his desk as he stood, walking over to the window, peering down at the carriage, "How long before she leaves?" He asked, but before he could receive an answer, he watched as you entered his vision, seemingly thanking the driver, and though reluctantly, stepping into the carriage.
Charles walked over, standing beside the man as he watched you leave. The man then glanced at his friend, observing him. The stoic look on his face, though more brooding, did not mask the sadness and pain that resided in his eyes; clearly, he cared deeply for you. Charles, and anyone else close to either of you, could have seen that.
"You care for her," Charles spoke softly, Fitzwilliam's shoulders stiffening slightly at his words, "I believe that you might even love her, Darcy."
Fitzwilliam turned toward Charles with an odd look on his face, "What makes you say such a thing?" He asked, though he already knew the answer.
"The way you look at her, the way you speak to her," Charles paused, smiling warmly at Fitzwilliam, "There is no one else that looks at her the way you do," Fitzwilliam said nothing, turning his gaze away from the window and heading back towards his desk once your carriage was out of sight. "You should go after her." Charles said suddenly before leaving the room.
Fitzwilliam sat back down at his desk, letting out a deep sigh as he let himself slouch a little. Charle's words were ringing throughout his mind, causing him to frown deeper. He didn't know how long he sat there as he stared at the paper and his quill in front of him before he suddenly stood and grabbed his coat.
~~~
Sitting in the sitting room, book in hand, your mind could hardly focus on the words written in the book. Your thoughts were all on Fitzwilliam, all on the future, and your upcoming marriage with another man you did not love. Your mind already distracted, you snapped your head over to the study's entranceway, hearing muttering coming from down the hall. You could not make out anything, only hearing that it was two men speaking, but you furrowed your brows; hearing the muttering quiet before hearing the closing of another door. Curiosity was clawing at you but you turned back to your book, trying your hardest to get back to reading it.
But as two hours passed, having checked the clock every ten minutes or so, you began to grow restless. Shutting your book, you stared at the doorway, trying to strain your ears to hear anything, but you could not make out anything. The large estate was quiet, aside from the hustling of the servants. You looked over at the clock on the wall, about to stand to practice the piano to calm your nerves before your mother walked into the room.
She stood, tall and poised as usual, a small smile on her face. With a small gesture, she told you to stand and follow her. And you did so, forgetting your book on the velvet loveseat and following your mother to your father's office. With a steady knock, the door opened and a small gasp left your lips.
Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy stood beside your father, who sat at his office desk, leaned back, and with a thoughtful expression on his face. Immediately as the door opened, Fitzwilliam turned to face you, bowing respectively, as you glanced from your mother and to your father. Looking back to your long-time friend, you tilted your head to the side slightly, "Mr. Darcy, this is a surprise." You then looked to your mother and father once more, "Whatever is the matter?" You questioned.
Your father gave you a soft nod, "Please, join us." More than confused at this point - bewildered - you stepped further into the room, your mother leaving your side to stand next to your father at his desk. "Mr. Darcy here has come to inform us of something rather pressing." Your father answered finally, standing from his leather chair with a small grunt. "We shall leave you both to converse," He added as he made his way out of the room, followed by your mother.
As soon as they were gone, you turned to Fitzwilliam, "Whatever is going on, Fitzwilliam?" You asked as the man in question took a step towards you.
And though he had a small frown on his face, his blue eyes held such vulnerability, such tenderness. "My lady," He muttered, his eyes searching yours, "I must confess that I am… Somewhat troubled." Letting out a small breath, he continued as you stared up at him, "For many years, I have found myself longing for you, and I can not seem to help but fall in love with you…" At his words, your eyes widened, and your lips parted slightly as he continued. "I have come to speak with your father about your arrangement. I can not force you to continue, nor can I force you to end it. But I can only hope that you could consider me as a potential suitor - husband rather, if that is agreeable to you."
You felt your breath hitch, your heart racing as you stared at the man you loved confessing that he had feelings for you, as well. After a moment, you managed to regain your composure, though you still remained speechless. Licking your dry lips briefly, you spoke, "It is," You breathed out. The words were barely above a whisper, and yet it seemed so loud to Fitzwilliam. He blinked rapidly, almost surprised at your response. You brushed the stray tear from your cheek, a small crawling sensation taking residence in your stomach. "I would be honored to accept your proposal, Fitzwilliam Darcy."
And though it was brief, you saw his smile before he took a step forward and hesitantly took your hand in his. The skin-on-skin contact, though usually forbidden between a gentleman and a young woman, caused butterflies to fill each of your stomachs as you both pressed your foreheads together, eyes fluttering shut.
~~~
The sun was shining brightly today, as were the birds who were singing their songs in the tree branches, which were swaying lightly in the breeze; the light rain drizzled down from the sky. A content smile spread across your face as you leaned against the railing, overlooking the beautiful gardens that surrounded the estate. Your smile only widened as you felt a pair of arms slowly wrap around your waist, tugging you back into the warmth of Fitzwilliam's body. You hummed and rested your head upon his chest, your hands coming up to cover his.
His arms tightened around your body, pulling you closer to him. "Good morning, my love." He spoke softly, planting a gentle kiss upon your temple. His lips moved along the soft skin of your cheek gently, causing you to shiver as goosebumps rose along your skin.
"Good morning, Fitz," You whispered in return. "I do declare that this is the most beautiful day I've ever experienced." You sighed out as he chuckled, nuzzling into your neck before pressing his lips to the skin there.
"That it is," He agreed before lifting his head and looking into your eyes. He gazed at you lovingly, brushing the hair from your face before leaning in and placing a soft kiss upon your lips. You sighed as he pulled away, allowing his forehead to rest against yours. Your fingers ran through his short hair, gently scratching his scalp as he hummed contently, enjoying the feeling.
"What is the time?" You asked, breaking the silence.
He glanced at his pocket watch, "Just past eight," He stated, giving you a fond smile, "Shall we head to breakfast?" He then suggested, earning a nod from you. Taking your hand in his, you brought it up to your lips, pressing your own kisses to his knuckles before he began to lead you from the balcony.
Behind the both of you, outside the window, just as the rain began to fade away... A rainbow slowly appeared.
#cute#fluff#slight angst#x reader#fanfiction#x female reader#fanfic#x you#x y/n#pride and prejudice 1995#pride and prejudice#pride and predjudice 2005#mr. darcy#mr. darcy x reader#mr. darcy x female reader#fitzwilliam darcy#fitzwilliam darcy x reader#fitzwilliam darcy x female reader#fitzwilliam darcy x you#fitzwilliam darcy x y/n
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#RainbowRoad for Rainbow Railroad Charity Drive
CLICK HERE TO PREORDER
Hello, everyone!
As you may know, a couple of years ago I wrote a Good Omens fic called Sit Tight, Take Hold. It kicked off an amazing friendship with a group of people who have now come together to organize a fundraiser to support an LGBTQ+ non-profit.
I'm really excited to announce that we are running a charity drive to support Rainbow Railroad alongside the release Good Omens Season 2 and the third and final part of the #rainbowroad series, Fools Rush In.
What is Rainbow Railroad?
Rainbow Railroad is a non-profit organization that works to relocate at-risk LGBTQ+ individuals to safety globally.
"As a result of Rainbow Railroad, more LGBTQI+ individuals can access lives free from persecution, and ultimately, we envision a world where LGBTQI+ people can live lives of their choosing, free from persecution."
If you've read STTH and AALS, you may remember that Formula 1 visits a multitude of countries that have poor human rights and are unfriendly to LGBTQ+ individuals. I vacillated between many charity organizations before settling on this one, which encompasses the global nature of the #rainbowroad universe and some of the challenges the characters face. Thank you, @kookaburra-laugh, for suggesting this charity!
Great! How can I help?
@dustandhalos, @blairamok, and @cinnabarmint are releasing prints of their art for #rainbowroad on Etsy. Art options include:
a. A 5x7 postcard pack of 6 prints featured in STTH!
b. An 12x18 poster of Crowley's C8ZR1 from part two, Accept A Little Spin
c. And last but not least, an 18x24 print of Ezira's signed Anthony Fucking Crowley poster.
[Preview images are protected with anti-AI cloaking technology Glaze, and may depict slight pixelation and/or distortion. Printed art will not depict this distortion.]
BUT THAT'S NOT ALL. WE ARE PRINTING SIT TIGHT, TAKE HOLD. Thank you, again, to @blairamok, who made the astounding cover art.
I will update everyone once I get the physical proof, but the book includes 428 pages incorporating the tumblr posts, news articles, and text messages. The dimensions will be 6x9x1, printed in color on 80lb matte paper.
How does this work?
CLICK HERE TO PREORDER
Preorders open TODAY and will run for a month until Friday 9/1. Once preorders close, we will submit the orders to the various printers. All proceeds will go to Rainbow Railroad, minus the cost of printing and shipping orders. We hope to start shipping out merch mid to late-September. Depending on how many orders we get will depend on how quickly we can ship everything out, but we will keep you posted once preorders close.
Hopefully, if you order something and live in the US, it will arrive by the time Fools Rush In finishes posting on 10/13.🤞🤞🤞 We will be shipping internationally as well!
What if I can't afford to order anything?
That's okay! Please reblog this post so more people can see it. It will bring more attention to the charity drive and more attention to Rainbow Railroad!
What the heck is #rainbowroad?
#rainbowroad is a trilogy about our favorite Good Omens characters reimagined as Formula 1 drivers. I have no idea how this came into my head beyond binging Good Omens and Drive to Survive at the same time. The final part of the main trilogy, Fools Rush In, is currently posting and slated to end on 10/13. It is COMPLETE.
Thank you to my friends and all the readers who have made this possible! I am so excited to share this with you. Please reblog to boost awareness. If you have specific questions, shoot me an ask!
Massive thanks to @dustandhalos, @blairamok, @cinnabarmint, and @kookaburra-laugh for making this possible!
ni <3
#rainbowroad for rainbow railroad#charity drive#sit tight take hold#rainbow road#good omens fic#ni speaks
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Remember Me - By Bd (8/10)
She's cool and pretty. She's a small business owner. She stepped in to save a child's life once, but a freak accident killed him anyway. Our protagonist is a "shiny" normal person that stands out wherever she goes, and there's definitely a mystery about her past.
Eun-ha was 20 years old when she got involved in a gun fight. She was on a trip in a remote and unfriendly area at the time.
A nice, handsome older man offered her directions.
He says he knows her, but that just isn't possible. They're in a different country, and he is a stranger.
He has a son, and when Eun-ha sees him she does think she recognizes him. That's crazy though, so she brushes it off.
His father dies in front of them.
San-Ho comes from a very dangerous and odd family. Eun-ha tries to protect him, but judging by the way the child behaves its a wealthy family...or a criminal one.
Likely criminal, because of the way his father was executed in the street.
Eun-ha and her uncle care for him for a month. They make precious memories. The boy sees her as his hero. She gets attached and they have fun.
San-Ho doesn't seem used to fun.
His life was dark before her.
Now Eun-ha is 37. She still has pictures of him, but she tries not to think about him. He is a painful memory now.
Eun-ha owns a small business. A cleaning company. She cleans rich people houses. Mansions. Empty homes with no furniture that need to be upkept.
One of her clients is Shin Noel. A man who reminds her of San-Ho. He seems to recognize her too. He also has a gorgeous girlfriend/lover...that he doesn't treat well. I'm sure there will be drama when he starts chasing an "old hag".
Eun-ha is in denial.
She saw the boy die.
A truck drove into them.
Probably on purpose.
Shin Noel probably changed his name to survive. Maybe he thought SHE was the one who died that day. Who knows? His family situation is suuuppperr messy.
I don't know how much he knows.
Also...I know what you're thinking.
Eun-ha does not look 37. Im ok with it though. It's better than an inappropriate age gap. A man in his mid twenties can freely date anyone. If he was 18 and she was 30 the gap would be more uncomfortable.
#yandere#male yandere#yandere male#yandere boy#recommendations#recs#rec#recommended#webtoon#remember me
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— 𝑾𝑬𝑳𝑪𝑶𝑴𝑬 𝑻𝑶 𝑴𝑨𝑻𝑻𝑺𝑳𝑶𝑳𝑰𝑻𝑨 💌 .
"𝒓𝒊𝒑 𝒎𝒆 𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒑𝒍𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒄, 𝒊 𝒃𝒆𝒆𝒏 𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒏' 𝒃𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒏𝒆𝒘!
💌 hi babies, i'm lilly ! i'm eighteen, and i'm a black writer.
💌 i'm a certified chris girl, drew starkey's wife, and i love music with my entire being. i'm a west coast girly from cali, but i wanna go to different countries so bad.
— 𝑭𝑨𝑽𝑶𝑹𝑰𝑻𝑬𝑺 𝑶𝑭 𝑴𝑰𝑵𝑬 💌 .
my best friends 💌 : @luverboychris @muwapsturniolo @guccifrog @thenickgirl !
music 💌 : melanie martinez, michael jackson, sza, dominic fike, latto ( if u can't tell ), the neighborhood, billie eilish, nessa barrett, lana del rey, mitski, bikini kill, halsey, marina, megan thee stallion, city girls, rihanna, migos, eminem, doja cat, fleetwood mac, taylor swift & more !
movies 💌 : the fault in our stars, scream franchise, the perks of being a wallflower, love simon, friday the 13th, carrie, halloween, the craft, it 2017, jeepers creepers, 13 going on 30, fast & furious, freddy vs. jason, mean girls, harry potter franchise, the maze runner & more !
tv shows 💌 : cobra kai, outer banks, sex education, stranger things, never have i ever, on my block, ginny & georgia, heartstopper, the vampire diaries, & more !
celebs / influencers 💌 : sturniolo triplets, vereena sayed, deb smikle, tara yummy, johnnie guilbert, jake webber, vinnie hacker, drew starkey, why don't we, chase keith, ariana greenblatt, fannita, the noon twins, xochitl gomez, larray, renee rapp, sam & colby, beabadobee, nailea devora, & more !
— 𝑺𝑯𝑰𝑻 𝑰𝑶𝑵 𝑻𝑶𝑳𝑬𝑹𝑨𝑻𝑬 💌 .
racism, rude behavior, kink shaming ( unless its shit or piss ), unfriendly remarks or comments. & IF YOU DO GOT SHIT TO SAY HOP OFF ANON & SAY IT WITH YO CHEST !
— 𝑾𝑯𝑨𝑻 𝑰 𝑾𝑰𝑳𝑳 / 𝑾𝑶𝑵'𝑻 𝑾𝑹𝑰𝑻𝑬 💌 .
will 💌 : fluff, angst, smut !
won't 💌 : piss kinks, shit kinks, incest, eating somebody ass, anal cause it freaks me out ( if you like it, you do you, but i'm not gon write it ! ), threesomes UNLESS you're requesting where they strictly interact with the reader ( y/n ).
always remember you're so loved & important, & you matter my loves. i hope we can be friends & you enjoy my shit !💌
masterlist 💌!
taglist 💌!
fav fics 💌!
𝒃𝒊𝒕𝒄𝒉𝒆𝒔 𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒏' 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒓𝒖𝒏𝒏𝒊𝒏' 𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒕, 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒚 𝒓𝒂𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉!"
— 𝑴𝑨𝑻𝑻𝑺𝑳𝑶𝑳𝑰𝑻𝑨 𝑺𝑰𝑮𝑵𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝑶𝑭𝑭 !💌
#sturniolo triplets#christopher sturniolo#chris sturniolo#matt sturniolo#nick sturniolo#nicolas sturniolo#sturniolo#the sturniolo triplets#the sturniolos#chris sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo x you#christopher owen sturniolo#matt sturniolo imagine#matthew sturniolo#matt sturniolo x reader#sturniolo fanfic#sturniolo triplets imagine#sturniolo smut#sturniolo x reader#nicolas sturniolo fanfic#nicolas sturniolo x reader#nicolas antonio sturniolo#nick sturniolo x you#nick sturniolo x reader#nick sturniolo x male reader#nick sturniolo fanfic#sturniolo fandom#chris sturniolo fanfic#matt sturniolo fanfic#chris girl
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