#mr. darcy

[dreamalittlegarden]

“I'm 27 years old, I have no money and no prospects. I'm already a burden to my parents. And I'm frightened.”

- Charlotte Lucas, Pride and Prejudice

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Recently celebrated my 27th birthday Pride and Prejudice style

[bethanydelleman]

Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy being like, "I am 100% committed to respecting your 'no', but I heard you wouldn't promise my aunt not to marry me so I had to come and check just one (1) more time."

[faitokie]

She is tolerable, but not handsome enough to tempt me...

Some Pride and Prejudice fanart 😇😇😇 such a big comfort movie

[rhaenyratargeryen]

He leaves, abruptly. Elizabeth watches him stride away, through the rain. What has she done? She bitterly bursts into tears.

PRIDE & PREJUDICE (2005) dir. Joe Wright

[pemberlaey]

this sentence is 210 years old today <3

[charminglygrouped]

don't make me tap the sign

(the sign says "Mr. Darcy is 100% aware of how to act in any given social situation and has no trouble at all expressing his feelings. He comes off as arrogant and proud because he is arrogant and proud")

[floatyflowers]

Could we please have yandere mr darcy please? 😭🙏🏻

Everything about you is strange according to social norms, from the way you dress to the way you speak, it is like you are from another timeline.

And you are really from another timeline, and it's called 'the future'.

But one day, you suddenly woke up and found yourself in the Regency era, as one of the higher-class ladies.

You tried to adapt to the change as much as you could, but your sense of fashion and behaviour always seemed off, outputting and rude.

However, when Mr. Darcy saw you dressed in a curious yet becoming gown of shimmering blue, with its peculiarly puffed sleeves and cascading pearls, it possessed an ethereal allure.

It is suggested that you are a wearer of unique sensibilities and a beauty both striking and delightfully strange, sure to make a memorable impression.

That's why he asked you to dance at one of the balls.

And you proved to him that you cannot certainly dance.

And when he tried to instruct you, it didn't work, as you didn't know anything about the etiquette of dancing.

Especially when you asked him...

"Left… then right? Wait, was that my left or your left?"

Yet, despite your unorthodox movements, there was something oddly captivating about the way you held yourself, though you embarrassed yourself, yet owned that misplacement with pride.

Your head was high, your expression unwavering.

And when you finally stumbled into a turn that led to an accidental spin, you burst into laughter, rich, unapologetic, and completely sincere.

Yes, Mr. Darcy hates those types of barbaric actions, because according to everyone in the room except the Bennet sisters, those are the actions of people of the lower class.

He should not have noticed you so deeply, and yet he did.

It was not long before he extended an invitation for a private afternoon next week at Pemberley.

"I believe you may enjoy the gardens," he said, voice taut with restrained emotion. "There are orchids unlike any you have seen before."

Your eyes lit up, not at the flowers, but at the idea of exploring a new place. "If they are stranger than I am, I would be surprised," you teased.

He smiled slightly. "Nothing is stranger than you."

You tilted your head. "Is that a compliment, Mr. Darcy?"

"Indeed, it is."

At Pemberley, you wandered the halls, your fingers grazing ancient tapestries and your eyes marveling at the intricacies of things taken for granted by others.

Mr. Darcy watched, silent but never far, His heart grew more violent in its beat each time you laughed softly or tilted your head in wonder.

"You look at this place as though you have never seen its like before," he remarked quietly, once the others had drifted away and you stood alone in the sun-dappled gallery.

"That is because I have not," you murmured.

"I was not meant to be here."

"You are exactly where you are meant to be. With me," he said, stepping closer.

That afternoon, after having tea, the sun went down and shadows stretched long across the polished floors of Pemberley, by the reflection of the moonlight and candles,

A sudden chill overtook you. A shiver raced down your spine, and your knees, so confidently striding moments ago, gave a slight but unmistakable buckle.

Your whole body felt heavy, almost as if you were paralyzed.

Mr. Darcy caught your arm before you could sway again.

"You are unwell," he said, voice low but urgent. He touched your forehead with the back of his hand.

It was an intimate gesture from a man whose every move was usually measured and cautious according to society's standards.

You tried to laugh it off.

"Perhaps I simply feel tired as I didn't sleep well last night before coming here."

But then came the fever. That night, it wrapped itself around your skin.

Your breath quickened, your vision blurred, and the chill grew into an ache that clung to your bones.

Servants fluttered about in hushed tones, and Mr. Darcy stood at the edge of the room, arms behind his back, face unreadable.

"You cannot return home like this," he said decisively.

"It would be most irresponsible."

You wanted to protest, but even sitting up felt like moving through water.

And the tea they brought you, while soothing, made your tongue feel heavy, and lack thoughts

"Stay," he said again, this time softer. "Until you are well."

And so you stayed.

In the days that followed, your fever flared. Sometimes, when the haze in your mind cleared, you would find him seated at your bedside, a book in hand or watching the fire, always near, always composed.

You didn’t know then, of course, that the tea sweetened with crushed feverfew and valerian root had been suggested not by the housekeeper, but by Darcy himself.

He had someone get the right measurements to only make you sick, not kill you.

It gives the same symptoms of a deadly fever, but it won't kill you.

The fever had finally begun to loosen its grip, like fingers releasing your limbs after days of imprisonment.

You lay among silk pillows and lace linens, sweat-dampened and weary, but with clarity returning at last.

Only because Mr. Darcy stopped giving you the tea.

He had not spoken much in recent hours; he only sat near the window, deep in thought.

At last, he turned to you, walking towards your bed.

"There is something we must discuss," he said in a calculated voice.

"There are rumors," he said. "That you and I have... eloped."

Blinking, you are surprised, though not entirely.

You had known, somewhere in your modern mind, that a single woman falling ill and staying at a man's estate, especially his estate, would never go unnoticed in a society so dependent on perception.

"You and I? Eloped?" you repeated.

"It is rumoured that you arrived at Pemberley under a pretense, and that I-" he stopped, as though the words themselves were too indelicate to voice.

"-That I took you in under a motive less honorable than what was true."

A silence has befallen you.

Then Mr. Darcy declared with a steady voice.

"We must marry."

Your eyes grow big.

"Must?"

He took a step closer, sitting himself on the edge of your bed.

"Your name will not survive the rumours if we do not. Nor will mine, though I am of less concern to myself."

"And so this is a matter of honor," you state, trying to keep your tone light, though your throat felt tight.

"You don't have to take my responsibility, I shall return to my family and explain everything to them."

There is no way you are going to marry him, he is not from your timeline.

"Your family disowned you."

"They did?" you ask in disbelief.

Your family in this timeline is not as good as you thought.

"A letter arrived from your uncle. I was informed you would no longer be received in London, nor Hertfordshire."

You drew in a shaky breath, realising you had nowhere to live.

"So what happens now?"

Mr. Darcy rose slowly from the bed's edge, pacing toward the hearth.

"Now, you recover, then we marry."

Have been left with no choice, you agree.

"Very well, I will marry you."

[fceriegifs]

Kiera Knightley & Matthew Macfadyen as Elizabeth Bennet & Mr. Darcy

Pride & Prejudice (2005)

[pemberlian]

The definitive Fitzwilliam Darcy eyeroll gif set. In chronological order.

[lightgaswaterelectricityrent]

this is my hand flex

[neon-psychopomp]

A gift I made for the lovely @rumple04 of Twelve as Mr. Darcy from Pride and Prejudice :D

[ardentlyinlovedarcy]

[bethanydelleman]

I would pay good money to pluck Darcy and Wentworth out of their respective books and put them in the same room right after being dumped/rejected. Because Wentworth would be on a bender and Darcy would be like, "Maybe you should reflect on yourself" and they'd probably get close to killing each other but end up as best friends.

[randomgirl005]

hi, so I'm just gonna leave it here...

[rhaenyratargeryen]

PRIDE & PREJUDICE dir. Joe Wright | 2005

[checkoutmybookshelf]

This was too good not to share, and I am now putting out into the world the desire for an animated, animal friends version of Pride and Prejudice that does EXACTLY THIS. It would be AMAZING.

For anyone interested in the original: https://www.tumblr.com/pagerunner/191002786668/pride-prejudice-2005-dir-joe-wright

I found the screengrab on pinterest originally, so give the OG poster a like too!