#like i get what you were trying to do but GAWD DAMN does that sting

[gennyan]

no offence but if i was yoojin (with his 87 complexes) i would have actually killed myself after that . what the fuck yoohyun 💀

[blonde-toddy]

Random and Not So Random thoughts while watching Bridgerton: Season 1, Episode 6

It has taken me a while to do this. But I write this shit down so....

I wonder if they got busy in that carriage.

Probably.

Ok Clyvedon! Y'all are definitely not in the square anymore.

Aww Mrs. Colson. You're so proper and ready to show off and he's just trying to break that back in.

Gahh that place.

Ok Simon, go off!

Aw we're really just diverting there.

You really don't want to know Hyacinth.

Eloise is not here for the shits.

Oh, Colin. You fucking idiot. The one time Violet and Anthony are in agreement.

Colin you happy, dumb boy.

Brothels though?

Colin has a point. He is older than Daphne.

To be fair Colin and Daphne are both getting okie doked.

You horny mfs. I love it.

"You are already Duchess of all this." Yes please.

Ooooh that flip and the way he patted at her hips. They are too good.

Aw Daphne is trying to be proper and Simon is like "fuck all that."

Your Graces.

Jeffries dgaf about this damn honeymoon.

Oh Daphne, she just wants to show you around without YOUR commentary.

Redecorating? Didn't she say she did a bunch of improvements?

"A perfect Duchess." Ok you shady bitch.

Yeah that nursery shit is coming back.

All dressed up and no where to go.

"You're so far away." He wants his WIFE!

They have no chill and the staff don't know how to react.

Mrs. Colson absolutely does not approve.

Girl he hates that place. Gut it!

This man and the way he takes off gloves. Good fucking gawd.

Their poor staff.

I swear I swear I swear that man man is living, breathing, dripping seduction.

Well shit take it outside then.

Queue the rain.

Yes. Remove the wet clothes. ALLUM!!!!!

He is the king of playin with it. And I fucking love it.

"Do you like this?" Fuck yes! Talk. To. Me.

I wonder how many orgasms this man has caused.

"Tell me what you want." Keep talking, yes.

And by "you" she meant that dick.

"Does that hurt?" No boo, it sure doesn't.

But your ignorance on the subject does. Him taking advantage of your ignorance also does.

I love love love Simon but I'm having a harder time with his evasion now that they're actively getting busy.

She's bound to figure it out though, right?

Ahh they're still hot af to me.

Oh shit they're still going.

That picnic. Omfg. Flippin that ass like.....

Head on a ladder?!?!?! Get you some Daphne. Oh sweet Simon....

Sex on a ladder too.

They're really like "fuck the staff." And the staff is like "haha, keep fuckin."

Don't go there Mrs. Colson....

Welp.

That shoe dropping. Gawd yes.

Daphne really went from knowing ABSOLUTELY NOTHING to getting that Grade A like a beast.

Though Simon is obviously a withholder, the man is sexually attentive and attuned to her physical desires. He comes to please, indeed.

That tangle.

Ok, girl tell Rose your business.

I do love Rose. I want more of her.

"His physical inability to have children." Oh the sting of lies and ignorance.

"Difficult entanglement." Go head Rose.

Oh Colin, you fucked up lil buddy.

Hyacinth is a treasure.

I like that Violet does try to be supportive.

Penelope and her passive aggressive ass is saucy.

She's mad af.

The sisters do crack me up.

Penelope is dripping salt.

Oh Eloise. They really are putting you out there homie.

Awkward Marina.

Portia is mf hyped! She is all about that social climbing.

But she's gotta negotiate the bag before she pop tags on new Dresses.

Aw shit Marina caught Delacroix. Her French accent was a bit cartoonish.

Curious Eloise.

Oh children.

Oh poor oblivious Daphne. Simon, help your wife.

A fucking tie. Bitch they gotta kill them to eat them. Simon, again, help your wife. Tell your wife THINGS!

Y'all fucking dumb off all that sex and living in la la land apparently.

Well somebody liked his evil ass daddy.

Diplomatic Daphne.

Another sprinkle of kids....and pregnancy too.

I saw that longing look.

Aww she's worried he's hurt by being around children. If only you knew.

"I thought only of you." Really, mf?! As you keep up this lie.

She's so optimistic about her circumstances.

He's lucky he's beautiful. And that I pity him a bit. Because he's a motherfucker.

How did you get so lucky? Well you're lying to your wife and she doesn't know how sperm works sooooooo there's that.

What a beautiful expansive scene though.

Penelope is PISSED.

No belly yet.

Passive. Aggressive.

Oh this dinner is so awkward.

Portia you are not subtle at all.

Anthony is still CLEARLY not here for this engagement.

Oh is she about to snitch.

Well shit. She's kind of snitching.

Aww. He thinks your such a good friend, but hes got this.

You're sneaky and he's stupid.

Marina is hustling.

Eloping is always a grand idea. Colin you fucking dummy.

Marina is so relieved.

Aw where's Simon?

Sad Daphne is not a good look.

Grouchy workaholic Simon is not a good look either....but he does have a lot of responsibility in all fairness.

Mrs. Colson is so sick of Daphne.

Homegirl is just trying to find her footing. At least Rose stays supportive.

Have I said how much I love Rose?

Damn no one wants to talk to Daphne.

Aw she's befriended the pregnant lady with the screaming toddler.

I'm glad someone is finally explaining shit to Daphne. She can't grow if she don't know.

Too busy for his wife now......I'm not liking this vibe.

Aw she's trying to hash it out with Mrs. Colson.

Oooh she's looking for guidance about Simon.

He really hasn't told her shit about his life.

The power dynamic of their relationship is frustrating.

All this talk of being barren.....

She misses Simon's mama.

Strong seed got her thinking!

Penelope you sneaky, lying ass....what are you up to?

She has hope yet again. She about to expose her mother.

She ain't giving up.

Marina is damned and determined to marry Colin.

Oh Marina went there THERE.

You're gonna see your wife, Your Fucking Grace.

Stressy Simon is such a grouch.....but I'm not judging. I'm the same way.

But when they're affectionate, fuck.

He really just tossed her up on that desk like "Fuck work."

And he proceeded to fuckin work that mf thang.

How many people in the world are fucking like crazy right now because their significant others stay turned on by this show.

If I were not single, I would most definitely be pouncing on my partner ALL. THE. TIME.

Ok. Back to the show.

That was a mighty aggressive pull-out.

Relatable Simon. I too like foods after fucks.

Oh shit Daphne connecting the dots.

Rose out here saving the day like usual.

Well at least Daphne knows where babies come from now.

Everything is about to shatter, amrite?

She can't even hear a word he says. She feels so betrayed.

The piglet.

Dat ass though. And those shoulders.

Yeah that's gonna be a no tonight.

Oooh and now he wakes up without her.

She's fucking heartbroken.

The man she loves took away her choice with his deceit.

He allowed her to believe he was unable, not unwilling.

Would she have married him if he told the truth?

He was ready to die about the shit and still lied though.

All he ever had to do was tell her the whole fucking truth.

Everything this WOMAN knows about love and sex, she's learned from this man (and the real MVP Rose). He has literally taught her everything from the start of her sexual awakening. He knows better than anyone how ignorant she is regarding literally ANYTHING sexual in nature. I know he's insanely damaged, but this fucking hurts.

It's a unique feeling of unease and helplessness when you feel or realize you don't have agency over your own body.

An absence of the option to consent if you will.

I know this is a show, and I suppose it's doing its job because it's getting me deep into my thoughts and feelings. And I sure as a mf ENJOY THE FUCK out of watching them literally breathe in the same room with each other....among the many other things they do onscreen together. I guess I'm just heartbroken too. Shit. Plus y'all know I love tf out of my girl Daphne.

Ok back to the show again. This episode is fucking with my emotions.

Daphne is stewing!

But fuck if this isn't romantic as a mf.

These 2 fuck me up every time!

JPOLND - The End. That's this song. And this song is perfect.

Yes y'all! Rip them clothes off.

Daphne looks wild as hell. Carnal. She has a carnal look about her.

Ok bitch. Climb that mf tree then!

Is she anger-fucking him?!

Either way, he's loving it!!!

This song really is perfect.

Oh shit she's not letting up.

Fuck.

This shoe dropping?! Gawd NO!

She was literally like you took my choice so I took yours.

These fucking two.

He's hot with it for good reason for sure, but she is going in!

How the fuck could you think she knew how this worked when she didn't know what masturbation, let alone sex was until you got a hold of her?

YOU. PLAYED. ON. HER. IGNORANCE.

Maybe this conversation should have been had before y'all got naked.

They're both right in their own ways.

But they are absofuckinglutely wrong in so many of their own ways too.

He didn't ask for her pity and she didn't ask for his betrayal.

They are tearing me apart right now!

Big Sean said it best. "I guess drama makes for the best content."

I'm still rooting for them. I love growth and we still got 2 episodes left. They can't stay stuck like this, I'm sure.

Oh hey Whistledown.

Aww go to your friend.

Wtf is going on?

Are they all trying to kill me?

Aw fuck. Marina has been blasted by Whistledown. It's over.

Pure little Colin.

Oh Simon is heartbroken and Daphne.......she's desperate for a baby.

"Can the ends ever justify such wretched means?" That's a great question Whistledown. I'll have to get back to you on that.

I will close this with happiness because I refuse to accept this heartbreak.

[wikiwalking]

Hand in hand the youthful lovers sauntered along the esplanade. It was a night in midsummer; a wispy moon had set, and the stars glittered. The dark mass of the sea, at flood, lay tranquil, slothfully lapping the shingle.

“Come on, let’s make for the usual,” said the boy.

But on nearing their favourite seat they found it occupied. In the velvety shade of the overhanging sea-wall, the outlines of two figures were visible.

“Oh, blast!” said the lad. “That’s torn it. What now, Baby?”

“Why, let’s stop here, Pincher, right close up, till we frighten ’em off.”

And very soon loud, smacking kisses, amatory pinches and ticklings, and skittish squeals of pleasure did their work. Silently the intruders rose and moved away.

But the boy stood gaping after them, open-mouthed.

“Well, I’m DAMNED! If it wasn’t just two hanged women!”

* * *

Retreating before a salvo of derisive laughter, the elder of the girls said: “We’ll go out on the break-water.” She was tall and thin, and walked with a long stride.

Her companion, shorter than she by a bobbed head of straight flaxen hair, was hard put to it to keep pace. As she pegged along she said doubtfully, as if in self-excuse: “Though I really ought to go home. It’s getting late. Mother will be angry.”

They walked with finger-tips lightly in contact; and at her words she felt what was like an attempt to get free, on the part of the fingers crooked in hers. But she was prepared for this, and held fast, gradually working her own up till she had a good half of the other hand in her grip.

For a moment neither spoke. Then, in a low, muffled voice, came the question: “Was she angry last night, too?”

The little fair girl’s reply had an unlooked-for vehemence. “You know she wasn’t!” And, mildly despairing: “But you never WILL understand. Oh, what’s the good of . . . of anything!”

And on sitting down she let the prisoned hand go, even putting it from her with a kind of push. There it lay, palm upwards, the fingers still curved from her hold, looking like a thing with a separate life of its own; but a life that was ebbing.

On this remote seat, with their backs turned on lovers, lights, the town, the two girls sat and gazed wordlessly at the dark sea, over which great Jupiter was flinging a thin gold line. There was no sound but the lapping, sucking, sighing, of the ripples at the edge of the breakwater, and the occasional screech of an owl in the tall trees on the hillside.

But after a time, having stolen more than one side-glance at her companion, the younger seemed to take heart of grace. With a childish toss of the head that set her loose hair swaying, she said, in a tone of meaning emphasis: “I like Fred.”

The only answer was a faint, contemptuous shrug.

“I tell you I LIKE him!”

“Fred? Rats!”

“No it isn’t . . . that’s just where you’re wrong, Betty. But you think you’re so wise. Always.”

“I know what I know.”

“Or imagine you do! But it doesn’t matter. Nothing you can say makes any difference. I like him, and always shall. In heaps of ways. He’s so big and strong, for one thing: it gives you such a safe sort of feeling to be with him . . . as if nothing could happen while you were. Yes, it’s . . . it’s . . . well, I can’t help it, Betty, there’s something COMFY in having a boy to go about with — like other girls do. One they’d eat their hats to get, too! I can see it in their eyes when we pass; Fred with his great long legs and broad shoulders — I don’t nearly come up to them — and his blue eyes with the black lashes, and his shiny black hair. And I like his tweeds, the Harris smell of them, and his dirty old pipe, and the way he shows his teeth — he’s got TOPPING teeth — when he laughs and says ‘ra-THER!’ And other people, when they see us, look . . . well I don’t quite know how to say it, but they look sort of pleased; and they make room for us and let us into the dark corner-seats at the pictures, just as if we’d a right to them. And they never laugh. (Oh, I can’t STICK being laughed at! — and that’s the truth.) Yes, it’s so comfy, Betty darling . . . such a warm cosy comfy feeling. Oh, WON’T you understand?”

“Gawd! why not make a song of it?” But a moment later, very fiercely: “And who is it’s taught you to think all this? Who’s hinted it and suggested it till you’ve come to believe it? . . . believe it’s what you really feel.”

“She hasn’t! Mother’s never said a word . . . about Fred.”

“Words? — why waste words? . . . when she can do it with a cock of the eye. For your Fred, that!” and the girl called Betty held her fingers aloft and snapped them viciously. “But your mother’s a different proposition.”

“I think you’re simply horrid.”

To this there was no reply.

“WHY have you such a down on her? What’s she ever done to you? . . . except not get ratty when I stay out late with Fred. And I don’t see how you can expect . . . being what she is . . . and with nobody but me — after all she IS my mother . . . you can’t alter that. I know very well — and you know, too — I’m not TOO putrid-looking. But”— beseechingly —“I’m NEARLY twenty-five now, Betty. And other girls . . . well, she sees them, every one of them, with a boy of their own, even though they’re ugly, or fat, or have legs like sausages — they’ve only got to ogle them a bit — the girls, I mean . . . and there they are. And Fred’s a good sort — he is, really! — and he dances well, and doesn’t drink, and so . . . so why SHOULDN’T I like him? . . . and off my own bat . . . without it having to be all Mother’s fault, and me nothing but a parrot, and without any will of my own?”

“Why? Because I know her too well, my child! I can read her as you’d never dare to . . . even if you could. She’s sly, your mother is, so sly there’s no coming to grips with her . . . one might as well try to fill one’s hand with cobwebs. But she’s got a hold on you, a strangle-hold, that nothing ‘ll loosen. Oh! mothers aren’t fair — I mean it’s not fair of nature to weigh us down with them and yet expect us to be our own true selves. The handicap’s too great. All those months, when the same blood’s running through two sets of veins — there’s no getting away from that, ever after. Take yours. As I say, does she need to open her mouth? Not she! She’s only got to let it hang at the corners, and you reek, you drip with guilt.”

Something in these words seemed to sting the younger girl. She hit back. “I know what it is, you’re jealous, that’s what you are! . . . and you’ve no other way of letting it out. But I tell you this. If ever I marry — yes, MARRY! — it’ll be to please myself, and nobody else. Can, you imagine me doing it to oblige her?”

Again silence.

“If I only think what it would be like to be fixed up and settled, and able to live in peace, without this eternal dragging two ways . . . just as if I was being torn in half. And see Mother smiling and happy again, like she used to be. Between the two of you I’m nothing but a punch-ball. Oh, I’m fed up with it! . . . fed up to the neck. As for you . . . And yet you can sit there as if you were made of stone! Why don’t you SAY something? BETTY! Why won’t you speak?”

But no words came.

“I can FEEL you sneering. And when you sneer I hate you more than any one on earth. If only I’d never seen you!”

“Marry your Fred, and you’ll never need to again.”

“I will, too! I’ll marry him, and have a proper wedding like other girls, with a veil and bridesmaids and bushels of flowers. And I’ll live in a house of my own, where I can do as I like, and be left in peace, and there’ll be no one to badger and bully me — Fred wouldn’t . . . ever! Besides, he’ll be away all day. And when he came back at night, he’d . . . I’d . . I mean I’d ——” But here the flying words gave out; there came a stormy breath and a cry of: “Oh, Betty, Betty! . . . I couldn’t, no, I couldn’t! It’s when I think of THAT . . . Yes, it’s quite true! I like him all right, I do indeed, but only as long as he doesn’t come too near. If he even sits too close, I have to screw myself up to bear it”— and flinging herself down over her companion’s lap, she hid her face. “And if he tries to touch me, Betty, or even takes my arm or puts his round me. . . . And then his face . . . when it looks like it does sometimes all wrong . . . as if it had gone all wrong — oh! then I feel I shall have to scream — out loud. I’m afraid of him . . . when he looks like that. Once . . . when he kissed me . . . I could have died with the horror of it. His breath . . .his breath . . . and his mouth — like fruit pulp — and the black hairs on his wrists . . . and the way he looked — and . . . and everything! No, I can’t, I can’t . . . nothing will make me . . . I’d rather die twice over. But what am I to do? Mother’ll NEVER understand. Oh, why has it got to be like this? I want to be happy, like other girls, and to make her happy, too . . . and everything’s all wrong. You tell me, Betty darling, you help me, you’re older . . . you KNOW . . . and you can help me, if you will . . . if you only will!” And locking her arms round her friend she drove her face deeper into the warmth and darkness, as if, from the very fervour of her clasp, she could draw the aid and strength she needed.

Betty had sat silent, unyielding, her sole movement being to loosen her own arms from her sides and point her elbows outwards, to hinder them touching the arms that lay round her. But at this last appeal she melted; and gathering the young girl to her breast, she held her fast. — And so for long she continued to sit, her chin resting lightly on the fair hair, that was silky and downy as an infant’s, and gazing with sombre eyes over the stealthily heaving sea.