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lothiriel84 · 3 days

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So They Went to Cromer

AU. Margaret has no living relations who might take care of her after her father's death, and Mr Thornton feels compelled to beg his mother to do so in his stead.

A North and South ficlet. Background John/Margaret.

“She cannot stay here, John. People are already talking, and you know well enough the mill would hardly survive a scandal of these proportions.”

Her son merely scoffed at what he clearly perceived as a most trivial objection, and she knew from the stubborn set of his jaw that there was nothing she could say that would make him see reason. “The way matters are standing, I have very little hope as it is to keep in business much longer. Mr Hale was my friend, and I owe it to his memory to see to his daughter until alternative arrangements can be made for her comfort.”

Hannah shook her head but relinquished any further attempt at persuasion, at least for the time being. Conscious of her duties towards her unwanted charge, she took herself upstairs to check on that girl. She found Miss Hale precisely where she had left her, her tea untouched as she sat very still with a book in her lap, lost in contemplation of the magnitude of her grief.

“This will never do, Miss Hale,” she sighed, struck afresh by the unwelcome memory of those terrible days she had once spent in a daze of stupefied apathy, before her motherly instincts had finally spurred her into action. “We ought to find you some useful employment – you will feel better for it, I promise.”

She saw a shadow of recognition flicker across the girl’s ashen features. “You are right, Mrs Thornton,” Miss Hale murmured as she stood with aching slowness, and put the book aside. “I would not be more of a burden than I already am.”

If there was one thing Hannah felt sure of, it was that she quite disliked the seaside. So used had she become to being in charge of her son’s household, and helping with the running of the mill besides, that she found this state of forced unemployment quite unsustainable – and if it were not for John’s pleading entreaties that they removed to Cromer for the summer for his own peace of mind, she would not have hesitated to pack herself and Miss Hale on the first train to Milton.

She knew her son was finding Miss Hale’s continued presence in his house exceedingly difficult, despite all his protestations that he was merely concerned for her wellbeing as the orphaned daughter of his late friend, and they could not very well leave the girl to fend off for herself without any friend or relation to protect her. Mr Bell had initially offered to care for Miss Hale, but it had rapidly become apparent that the indifferent state of his health would soon prevent him from undertaking any such a commitment; although some mention had been made in passing of a relation of Mr Hale’s settled somewhere in Spain, there was no question of removing Miss Hale from England until she had recovered sufficient strength to face the journey.

Why Miss Hale’s mysterious lover had not come back to fetch her was something Mrs Thornton could scarcely account for; and while she would not think so badly of the girl as to suspect her of an illicit attachment, surely there had to be some serious impediment preventing the marriage.

All her careful enquires in that direction had yielded nothing but a melancholy declaration on Miss Hale’s part that she knew now she would likely never marry; her relation in Spain would take good care of her, and in turn she would look after his children as if they were her own, and be content.

“I cannot see why John does not offer for her and has done with it,” Fanny stage-whispered once her new husband had taken his leave of both ladies, and Miss Hale had wandered off to stare out to sea as had lately become her habit. “He thinks I do not know, but one ought to be blind not to realise he still cares for her.”

“Your brother will not thank you for meddling in his private business,” Hannah swiftly reprimanded her, and if her tone was more cutting than she meant to employ, it had more to do with her growing suspicions about the state of Miss Hale’s heart than with her daughter’s more immediate transgression.

“John is as much of a fool as Miss Hale is,” Fanny went on, undeterred. “It is not quite the thing, to provide for an unmarried young lady who is entirely unconnected to him – she cannot be blind to the impropriety of it, and yet, for all her pride, she does not object to it.”

“You will not mention any of this before Miss Hale, Fanny, and that is all there is to it,” Hannah commanded in such a manner as brokered no objection. Her daughter pouted, shrugged, and launched herself into a detailed account of all the delicate attentions her dear Mr Watson had seen fit to bestow upon her over the entire course of their wedding trip.

“It is my John, is it not?” Hannah demanded quite brusquely, her hand clasped around Miss Hale’s arm in a vice-like grip. “This man you always speak of with such regret, he’s none other than my son.”

The girl met her penetrating stare with a pensive glance of her own; but it was only for a moment, then her eyes went back to the perpetual movement of the waves crashing onto the seashore. “It does not matter. I have very little doubt he will soon find someone better suited to him – and I wish him every joy of it, for there is scarcely any other man more deserving of such happiness than he is.”

“Miss Hale, you do not know what you speak of,” Hannah shook her head in exasperation, the burden of a beloved son’s disappointment bearing down on her conscience like a millstone. “I know my son’s heart better than my own, and there is very little room in it but for the woman who once saw fit to reject him under no uncertain terms.”

“He told me himself, that he no longer cares for me,” Miss Hale acknowledged in a small voice, her quiet composure wavering only for a moment. “So you see, Mrs Thornton, he is quite safe from me.”

Mrs Thornton all but dismissed the notion with an imperious wave of her hand, and turned to face the girl more fully. “He will not offer for you again unless he is made aware of your changed opinion, Miss Hale. Indeed, he might not even then, because of the precarious state the mill is in – through no fault of his own, if I may add.”

“If he thinks any such consideration would prevent me from accepting him, then he does not know me at all,” Miss Hale declared with unanticipated passion, her cheeks colouring as she instantly regretted her forwardness.

Hannah regarded her for a long moment, and it was as if she was seeing the girl for the first time; then she nodded to herself, and accepting Miss Hale’s arm once more, they strolled back in a silence that was, if not companionable, at least no longer hostile on either part.

John had come at last to fetch them back to Milton, and there was something so distracted about his manner his concerned mother could scarcely refrain herself from enquiring about it.

“He was her brother,” her son uttered, as if in wonder, holding out a letter marked from Cadiz, Spain. “I have been such a fool, Mother, and now it is much too late.”

“Nonsense,” Hannah declared with unmovable conviction. “She is right here, and unmarried still. I have been wrong before, but I know for a fact she would more than welcome your addresses now. All you need do is ask, son, and you shall be given.”

“I cannot credit it, Mother,” he replied, slowly, and there was something exceedingly pained to his tone. “And even if by some miracle she has indeed come to care for me, how could I ever – she deserves so much better than to find herself tied to a failed mill Master, unable to provide for his own family in the manner any respectable man ought to.”

“I have every faith in you, son,” Hannah proclaimed, placing both hands on his shoulders. “And so you should have faith in God’s own Providence, and the strength of a woman’s true devotion through many a shared adversity.”

She saw his gaze drift, almost against his will, in the direction Miss Hale had walked off. “Her brother has a greater claim on her, you must see that.”

“Go to her, son,” his mother entreated him once more, and when he finally did, she found her lips curling in the faintest suggestion of a smile.

#North and South #Hannah Thornton #Margaret Hale #John Thornton #Fanny Thornton #Margaret/John #alternate universe #canon divergence #historical inaccuracies #I don't even know #I wrote a thing #(the title is a reference to 'Norman and Norma' by The Divine Comedy)

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lothiriel84 · 9 days

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Winter Kept Us Warm

A North and South ficlet. Sex-repulsed asexual!John Thornton.

It was the night before his wedding, and John Thornton was lying wide awake, wishing like never before he could rely on his father’s guidance on this most delicate venture. He was thirty-two years of age, and while not entirely ignorant of the mechanics of marital congress, his knowledge up to this point had been purely theoretical – save perhaps for a handful of instances in which he had been unfortunate enough to stumble upon a couple of illicit lovers in a darkened alleyway in Princeton, and he had been most desperate to purge the unpleasant memories of it at the time.

Even as a young lad, he could never understand what all the fuss was about; while all other boys at school spoke of nothing but lusting after this or that girl, and the most daring ones boasted of their conquests, real or otherwise, his eye had never been caught by the female form in so unbecoming a manner. Even as a grown man, he still retained the impulse to excuse himself from any room in which the particulars of bedding a woman were being discussed, as frequently happened in the company of his fellow mill masters; some of them appeared to take a sort of perverse pleasure in discussing the intimate details of their latest encounter with some female of lower standing – and quite possibly in desperate need of coin, he reflected bitterly, not quite bothering to hide his contempt for those so-called gentlemen who saw fit to conduct themselves in so unbecoming a manner.

Tomorrow, he would wed the only woman he had ever – and would ever – love. To his utter mortification, his mother had thought it her responsibility to warn him against the roughness of his supposed desires; his new bride, she had told him, would be shy of him, and it was his duty to be gentle with her and do his utmost to ensure her comfort. The act, she had then proceeded to inform him, came with a certain amount of discomfort for a woman, even more so the first few times; he ought not impose upon his wife too often, and there would be several days each month in which she would be indisposed and therefore unable to allow him into her bed.

It was a good thing, he mused somewhat grimly, that he was so very much in love with Miss Hale; otherwise, he might have been put off marrying her altogether – though he knew he could never own to such a thing, on pains of being laughed out of Milton proper as not at all a man, as a disappointed widow of dubious morals had once accused him of being, after he had rebuffed her offers of a very specific kind of comfort without so much as a second thought.

He would take Margaret as his wedded wife, and he would do his duty by her, as was expected; no one needed ever know about his own deficiencies on this account, and besides, he was most eager for any children that might come out of this marriage. It had been painful enough to give up any hope of a family of his own, in the aftermath of Miss Hale’s first refusal; he would not allow any unnatural inclination – or disinclination, as it happened – on his part to prevent this most cherished wish from coming true.

Suffice to say, it did not go well. Oh, his intentions had been everything that was good and proper as he knocked on the door that led into his wife’s chamber; Margaret had welcomed him with such bashful tenderness as to make his heart soar, and for a fleeting moment, he had nearly convinced himself all his previous reservations were nothing but unfounded.

Then they began in earnest, and it became too much for him almost immediately. When she winced in pain, as he had been told to expect, he found he could not go on, and hastily withdrew from her despite her earnest protestations that she was well, and they should proceed like before.

He was a beast, he was all too painfully aware, for abandoning his new bride in so unconscionable a manner; even now, as he approached the washbasin on shaking legs and attempted to clean himself with pitifully trembling fingers, he could hear her sobs through the connecting door, which he had locked and bolted in his blind rush to put as much distance as could be contrived between himself and the proceedings.

If he were any sort of gentleman at all, he would go to her this instant, humbly throw himself at her mercy for the terrible slight he had inflicted upon her, regardless of how unwittingly done on his part. Instead, he merely stood there, struggling with his every breath to gain some shred of composure, and loathing his own cowardice with every fibre of his being.

“Is it because of me, John? You need not lie for my sake – indeed, I would rather have the full truth, no matter how hard to take in.”

He laughed – a hollow, somewhat pained sound. “It’s not that, Margaret, not even close. God knows I have never met another woman worth putting myself through all that. With you, I thought it might be different; that I’d be able to overcome my inadequacies, and be with you as a man with his wife.”

She regarded him pensively, yet there was such unbidden kindness in her countenance he knew himself most undeserving of. “My Aunt Shaw told me that all men desire it above all things – that they take great comfort in the marriage bed, and they wish for it, constantly.”

“There you have it, then. Not only I’m no gentleman, as you correctly assumed at the beginning of our acquaintance – I'm no proper man, either. Heaven knows what I am – except a liar and a cad of the worst kind, for proposing marriage to you under false pretences.”

He turned to look out of the window then, facing away from the only woman he had ever envisioned his future with, and whom he was now honour bound to set free as soon as an annulment could be petitioned for. There had been no consummation to speak of, and it was no great stretch of the truth to attest to his inability to perform his husbandly duties; at that moment, he did not even care that such a thing would inevitably make him the laughing stock of the town, as he could think of no worse fate than being made to renounce all prospects of happiness he had dared to believe himself secure of.

“Of course you are a man, John,” his wife promptly dismissed his doubts, and with a few decisive steps joined him near the window. “And you know very well I was quite mistaken in dismissing you as anything less than a gentleman.”

“Any gentleman worth the name would do his duty by his bride,” he pointed out, feeling every bit as bitter as he sounded. “And as a magistrate, I am perfectly aware no marriage is valid in the eye of the law that remains unconsummated.”

Margaret smiled, unaccountably, and went to place her hand upon his arm. “It is a good thing, then, that it was Jane who came in to change my linens this morning – I daresay the entire household has been informed by now, and is under no doubt that I have become your wife in every respect.”

“And how would you like it, Mrs Thornton, to be a wife in name only?” he pressed then, his sense of duty urging him on against every dictation of his heart. “To find yourself tied to a husband unwilling to share your bed, precluding any possibility of children from your future?”

He saw her determination waver, but it was only for a moment. “I was resolved never to marry, when I thought your regard irrevocably lost to me, so you see, it would be no great inconvenience to carry on as before. If you do not wish for children, then we shall have none – think only of the Boucher children, and there are so many more – we could do so much good, you and I.”

“I do wish for us to have children, Margaret,” he interrupted in his desperation. “Can you not see how impossible it is? The one thing that is clear to me is that I should never have placed you in this position, and I am sorry.”

“Have faith, John,” his wife murmured in so affectionate tones he was powerless to do anything but to gather her to himself. “God will see us through, one way or another.”

Her body was warm and pliant in his arms, but it did not cause him any revulsion now, with their shared love a living, pulsing thing surrounding them like an embrace. He tucked her head under his chin and closed his eyes in a silent prayer.

It took John many a week – and several failed attempts at completing the act in a manner conductive to the creation of children – to swallow his pride and consult Doctor Donaldson on so personal and delicate an issue. Unfortunately, the physician was at a loss to identify the root of his problem, and therefore unable to prescribe a remedy for it; everything appeared to be in working order, so to speak, and surely there could be no other obstacle preventing him from bedding his wife as he wished? Of course, as a medical man, he knew that some men’s proclivities went in a rather different direction, but surely Mr Thornton’s did not – ?

Mr Thornton assured him, most vehemently, that they did not, and took his leave with a great deal of mutual embarrassment on either side. He was by this time resolved to fix whatever it was that was wrong with him, and was debating the merits of taking himself to London to see one of those Harley Street doctors – the only thing preventing him from jumping on the next train southward being the sheer horror at the possibility, however remote, that word of his difficulties might somehow reach Margaret’s London relations, revealing the whole extent of his unsuitability as a husband way in excess of their previous objections.

It was close on two whole months after the wedding when John quite accidentally discovered that things went along considerably more smoothly if he could take his mind off the immediate proceedings and focus on something else entirely for the duration. This unexpected disclosure, coupled with Margaret’s growing confidence in all matters pertaining her wifely duties – which he strongly suspected to be the result of a timely intervention on his mother’s part, though he most definitely did not wish to know about it – ultimately produced the desired outcome, much to the relief of Mr and Mrs Thornton alike.

It would still take several months for Margaret to conceive, but the worst of it was behind them, and John’s strong distaste for the activity began to fade to a more manageable level of discomfort with familiarity and time. By early April, Doctor Donaldson was called in to confirm that Mrs Thornton was indeed with child, and Mr Thornton was at last granted a much-needed reprieve from his marital duties for the time being.

“Come back to bed, John. He will need feeding soon enough – we ought to get some rest while we can.”

He shook his head somewhat ruefully, his gaze still trained on the arresting sight that was his tiny son fast asleep in his crib. George was much smaller than his cousin had been at the time of her birth, but he was growing fast, and it had not taken long for his proud grandmother to declare that the boy would undoubtedly grow as tall and handsome as his father.

In the months leading up to Margaret’s confinement he had discovered that, once freed from any expectations of bedding her, he gained much comfort from sleeping with Margaret at his side; he was still in the habit of doing so, and although that meant he was often awakened by his son, he was still reluctant to quit this peculiar intimacy with his new family. He knew he would have to, once Margaret was recovered from her confinement and the time came for them to resume their efforts towards providing Master George with a younger brother or sister; for the time being, he was content to enjoy every opportunity of admiring the wonderful miracle that was the child he had worked so hard to bring into existence.

With that, he did in no way intend to make light of all the hardships his Margaret had had to face to bring their son into the world; she had carried the child within herself for several months, nurturing and protecting him, until the time had come to be delivered of him with considerable pain and suffering on her part, let alone the very real risks that came with childbirth for women and babes alike.

He owed the joys of fatherhood in great part to her courage and strength, and he was deeply grateful for that. With one final glance to his beautiful, beloved son, he finally retired to the bed, resuming his rightful place in his wife’s waiting arms.

#North and South #John Thornton #Margaret Hale #Margaret/John #asexual character #sex-repulsed character #self-worth issues #I don't even know #I wrote a thing

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lothiriel84 · 10 days

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Just look at his little face.

#Columbo #The Most Crucial Game #reblog

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lothiriel84 · 12 days

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Mother's Love

Margaret Hale had never been one to shrink away from her duty, and she would not let it be said that Margaret Thornton was in any way inclined to be remiss in her obligations to her husband.

A North and South ficlet. Sex-repulsed asexual!Margaret Hale.

It would be fine, she kept telling herself. Margaret Hale had never been one to shrink away from her duty, and she would not let it be said that Margaret Thornton was in any way inclined to be remiss in her obligations to her husband. This was John, the man she had come to love and respect, and she trusted him with her life; she owed it to herself as much as she did to him to be brave, and face what needed to be done with all the dignity befitting her new status.

Afterwards, she quietly slipped from her slumbering husband’s embrace, her hands shaking pitifully as she wrung out the washcloth, wishing she could scrub away all unpleasant memories as she did the evidence of their union. Selfishly, she prayed that she would get with child as soon as could be, and wondered if even once might be enough to bring that about.

Margaret shut her eyes and willed herself to lie still and let it happen. If only John would get on with it, rather than insisting on this sort of attentions – his lips drawing a tortuous path across the front of her night rail, down to that place where she dreaded his touch the most.

“John, please,” she let out a breathless plea, which he would invariably mistake for desire. She was yet to find the courage to dissuade him from any such notion, and it was all she could do not to shrink away from his touch when he finally reached the juncture of her thighs.

After that, things progressed at a much quicker pace, and she heaved a sigh of relief as he began moving in earnest above her. She knew it would not take long before he found his completion, and she longed for his comforting embrace in the aftermath, even as he drifted off to sleep as was always his wont.

“I thought you liked it.” Surprise, hurt, dejection – his features circled between several emotions, before settling on a look of abject misery. “I had no notion – I would have never –”

“That is precisely why I did not tell you,” Margaret stated very firmly, and reached to take his hand between her own. “It is no matter – we should continue.”

“We will not,” he very nearly shouted in his agitation, pulling his hand away from her grasp. “I may not be a gentleman, but I cannot in all conscience impose myself on you in such a manner.”

“John, you know very well there is no other way, if you wish me to bear your children. And you know, you must know how I long to be a mother above all things.”

Still, he would not be persuaded to lie with her that night in the way they were accustomed to; when she reached for him in the morning, however, he could not find it in himself to deny her. Their union was very brief, and when she saw that he was finished, she pressed her lips very tenderly to his cheek to thank him for his forbearance.

“It is a girl,” Hannah Thornton announced, placing the screaming infant into Margaret’s waiting arms. She had prayed for a boy – selfishly, again, for it would have lessened any expectations that she resumed her wifely duties as soon as she was recovered from her confinement – but as it had taken her nearly a year to conceive, she was exceedingly grateful for the blessing the Lord had seen fit to bestow upon them at long last.

“Maria,” she murmured when her precious daughter finally settled upon her breast, looking every bit as exhausted as her mother. “Maria will be her name.”

“A very fine name indeed,” came John’s clear voice as he was admitted into the room for the first time, and immediately rushed to meet his wife and child. “Maria Margaret Thornton. I could think of none better.”

“Oh, John, isn’t she beautiful?” Margaret exclaimed, her heart suddenly overflowing with love for the tiny miracle they had both contributed to create. “She was well worth every discomfort that was required to bring her into the world, and I know now I shall not hesitate to do it all over again, when the time comes.”

Her husband, all too aware that the discomfort she was speaking of was in no way restricted to the trials and tribulations of childbirth, placed his hand on her shoulder and leant forward to bestow a grateful kiss upon her brow.

#North and South #Margaret Hale #John Thornton #Margaret/John #asexual character #sex-repulsed character #mildly dubious consent #I wrote a thing

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lothiriel84 · 13 days

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And They Twain Shall Be One Flesh

In the absence of a mother who would inform Margaret of her wifely duties, all the matrons in her life had seen fit to dispense their wisdom on the matter in the weeks leading up to the wedding.

A North and South ficlet. Asexual!Margaret Hale.

They were married in Milton on a bright September morning, despite her cousin and aunt’s protestations in favour of a London spring wedding. In the absence of a mother who would inform Margaret of her wifely duties, all the matrons in her life had seen fit to dispense their wisdom on the matter in the weeks leading up to the wedding.

Aunt Shaw’s speech had been all that was vague and proper, hinting at the marriage bed as some great inconvenience which had to be endured for the privilege of bearing her husband’s children; it was the husband’s right to demand it of her as often as he pleased, and she ought to submit to him as dutifully as was expected of any young lady of good breeding. One could but hope that, in time, her husband’s demands on her person would diminish in frequency, perhaps even cease entirely with the coming of children and – well, she would not shock Margaret with so indelicate a subject, but so it was that men were very easily persuaded to take their relief elsewhere, thus sparing their wives from any further discomfort on that front.

Mrs Thornton, on the other hand, was as forthright as Margaret had come to anticipate; out of consideration for her son’s happiness, she laid down the facts of marital relations in so stark detail as she had never dared with her own daughter, sparing nothing of all the particulars a young bride was to face on her wedding night. There might be some discomfort the first few times, even pain, which was a woman’s lot to bear through; her son, she felt sure, would endeavour to be as gentle as could be, and with time and patience, Margaret might even come to find some measure of comfort in their conjugal intimacies. It was no sin for a married woman to find pleasure in the joining with her husband, so long as she did not forget that the act was primarily ordained for the creation of children, and conducted herself within the bounds of propriety outside the bedchamber.

Edith, for her part, chose to waylay her cousin on the very eve of the wedding, dropping several oblique hints that if Mr Thornton was anything like her dear Captain Lennox, then Margaret was in for the most delightful of surprises. She even let it slip that, although she could not have put a name to it at the time, the desire she felt for her husband had not abated since the early days of their courtship, and the relief she had known in the first days of her marriage had been made even more exquisite by the torment of many months’ anticipation.

As for Fanny, she contented herself with adding a whispered just lie still and let it happen, it will be less unbearable to her well-wishes for her sister-in-law’s future happiness, all the while tenderly caressing the gentle swelling of her stomach that was the just reward for all the forbearance she had exerted in submitting herself to her husband. She accepted Margaret’s congratulations for her impending motherhood with the grace befitting a woman of her standing, all the while secretly congratulating herself on the well-earned respite from her marital duties for several months to come.

If Margaret had thought herself reasonably prepared for what was to come, she would soon discover that was not the case; of all the wisdom she had been imparted, her mother-in-law’s had undoubtedly been the most accurate, and yet she was finding it did not at all account for the beautiful, terrible madness that was consummating one’s marriage.

She had not understood, could not have anticipated how moving it would be to know her husband in such a way – with my body I thee worship, he had pledged himself before God and man, those same words ringing in her ears as he eased himself into her with excruciating tenderness. It hurt, just as she had been warned; but it was well worth for the unanticipated wonder of being joined as one, body and soul alike, his mouth pressed insistently to the side of her neck as he chased his completion. And when his handsome features contorted at last in an expression of the utmost bliss, her eyes filled with tears at the notion that it was now her privilege to give herself to him in such a way as it gave him so much pleasure.

It did not matter that she still could make no sense of her cousin’s whispered confession; as intimately acquainted as she had just become with the fact of her husband’s desire for her, she could not find any such emotion within herself, and she marvelled that Edith would ever own to experiencing so unladylike a sentiment as that. If the reality of their marriage bed had not at all diminished her love for John, as her Aunt Shaw had gloomily predicted, neither had increased it in that strange, peculiar way Edith had been insinuating it would.

She knew at this moment, even as her husband curled himself around her, half asleep already, that she would find it no hardship to welcome him in her bed as often as he would see fit to seek it out; though she would just as equally be perfectly content when he did or could not, such as when he was away on business. Still, she thought it would do well to encourage his attentions, for she longed for the blessing of children, and she instinctively felt that was the greatest of all the gifts she could bestow upon him besides her own hand and heart.

On this point, at least, all her relations were in perfect agreement – that the joys of motherhood were the greatest reward of married life, and worth enduring many a discomfort in their pursuit. With a dreamy smile on her lips, she leant back into the safety of her husband’s embrace, and let herself drift off to sleep.

#North and South #Margaret Hale #Margaret/John #asexual character #first time #historical inaccuracies #I don't even know #I wrote a thing

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lothiriel84 · 19 days

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The Space Belongs to the Ace

Happy International Asexuality Day! I thought I'd make a tribute not only to all my fellow aces out there but also to space. To me, my asexuality is, on some level, connected to outer space, and I know I'm not the only one who feels this way.

If you don't know what I mean by that, let me tell you why.

Space has always meant a lot of me as a kid long before I discovered my asexuality. It is defined as a near-perfect vacuum. Outside of celestial bodies, there is almost nothing out there. No air. No other signs of life as far as we are concerned.

Yet if you look beyond, you can discover something beautiful... You can discover stars that have been here for over a millenia. You can discover spirals that are expanding and will continue to expand. You can discover colours and shapes that can captivate you or even comfort you, telling you that everything will be okay.

That's how I felt when I was finally able to label my experiences. That same wonder astronauts feel when they make a new discovery about space? It is the same wonder I felt when I first heard the term "asexual".

Now there are people who are pushing us out of the LGBT+ community. Even after we built our own as they insisted, people still harrass us for "not being oppressed enough" or for "making up a sexuality" or even "endangering the kids by confusing them with something unnatural".

It's 2024. We can't keep pushing away our fellow members when the world is already pushing us away from society. Exclusionism has only ever served to tear us apart while the people who want to hurt us sit back and let us do the work for them. We can't keep doing this. We deserve to have our space.

We belong here too.

#International Asexuality Day #happy ace day folks!

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lothiriel84 · 1 month

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She used to sit long hours upon the beach, gazing intently on the waves as they chafed with perpetual motion against the pebbly shore,—or she looked out upon the more distant heave, and sparkle against the sky, and heard, without being conscious of hearing, the eternal psalm, which went up continually. She was soothed without knowing how or why.

— North and South, Elizabeth Gaskell

#North and South #Elizabeth Gaskell #mood #(this is very appropriate for today btw)

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lothiriel84 · 2 months

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#Our Flag Means Death #so long and thanks for all the shipping

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lothiriel84 · 2 months

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who is the first david you think of when you hear the name david

#Bunker David

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lothiriel84 · 2 months

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We Are All Fools in Love

A North and South ficlet. What-if. John/Margaret.

Back in Milton, Mr Thornton went straight to the mill, silent and desolate as it was; as providential as Miss Hale’s business proposition had proved to be, it did nothing to change the fact that he had failed, and although grateful for her kindness, he felt bitterly the mortification of being indebted to her for the retaining of his former position.

It had all been done properly, of course, with Mr Lennox acting as Miss Hale’s legal advisor, and quite possibly as someone who might soon be expected to share a very personal interest in her financial affairs. And for all that it was apparent how much Mr Lennox disapproved of the investment – on personal grounds, if not economical ones – Miss Hale would not be swayed, in her passionate concern for the welfare of all the hands he had been forced to dismiss on the closing of the mill.

This, at least, he could do for her; he would give back work to all those who had signed their name on Higgins’ petition, and more besides, once he managed to get the business up and running again. He would be a fair Master, and do everything within his power to ensure that the mill would not fail again. And when Miss Hale did marry, as he felt sure she would do soon enough, all his foolish hopes would be put to rest once and for all; he would think of her as his landlady and business investor only, and nothing more.

Mrs Thornton welcomed the newcomer with icy politeness tinged with a healthy dose of relief that her son was not there for that woman to crow over. She was deeply conscious of the great service Miss Hale had provided in offering the capital John required for the restarting of his business, yet somehow resented the power it gave her to lord over him in such a manner as would be insupportable for any man as proud of his independence as she knew her son to be.

“He’s not here,” she spoke as plainly as was her custom, foregoing any of the usual pleasantries that were expected in the presence of one they owed everything to. “He has many obligations calling on his time, as I am sure you will understand.”

Miss Hale nodded gravely, her eyes trained on the dainty, ladylike hands she kept demurely folded in her lap. “Perhaps it is better this way. Mrs Thornton, there is one more thing – I know you will not like it, but surely, for your son’s sake,” there she faltered and paused, as if gathering her courage. “I have given it a great deal of thought, and I have decided to make this house over to you, as a token of my gratitude for the services rendered by your family to my poor mother and father. Mr Thornton needs not be informed for now, as I am sure he would be difficult about it, but it would give me great comfort to know that he needs not worry about finding another situation, should the mill be faced with more trouble in the future.”

It took all of Mrs Thornton’s considerable willpower to restrain herself from expressing just how insulting such an extraordinary proposition was, as much for herself as for her son’s good name. “I do not wish you to think me ungrateful, Miss Hale, after everything you have done to rescue the mill – but we do not need your charity, and you must see that it is as impossible for me to accept your offer as it would be for my son.”

“It has nothing to do with charity,” Miss Hale insisted, her lip now trembling under some strong emotion she was striving to hold back. “You once accused me of not knowing the man I rejected, and you were right; I have come to esteem him for the honourable man that he is, and while it is too late for us to fix the mistakes of our past, I only ask to be afforded the small consolation of knowing him safe from any such reduced circumstances as you both had to endure in the past.”

A much unwelcome realisation dawned upon Mrs Thornton then; that this young woman she had despised for so long was not as disinterested in her efforts to rescue the mill as her son seemed determined to believe. For all that several years had passed, with many a hardship to endure on her part, she too had once been young and in love, and for a time, in doubt of its return. And Miss Hale, for all her faults, appeared singularly unaware of any enduring regard on John’s part, for all that she herself, as his mother, would as soon have doubted that the sun would rise again on the morrow.

“I ask that you call back tomorrow morning, Miss Hale,” she forced herself to speak, out of the great love she bore for her son. “I shall have an answer for you then.”

Margaret set out for Marlborough Street as early as was deemed acceptable for a morning call. She knew it would take a great deal for Mrs Thornton to agree to her scheme, and indeed, she had kept the particulars of it from Mr Lennox as well, as much out of discretion as her instinctive conviction that Henry would stop at nothing in order to prevent her from wasting Mr Bell’s inheritance on a failed manufacturer from the North. If only Henry could guess at her true motivations – but no, there was no risk of that, as she had spared no effort to conceal her regard for Mr Thornton from the world, knowing that nothing could ever come out of it.

The mill would soon reopen, and in time, Mr Thornton would once more turn his thoughts to matrimony, as was only natural for a man of his age and position in life. Margaret, for her part, could only pray that he would bestow his affections on a worthier object this time, and find the happiness that was no longer open to her. There had been a moment, when he had called on her in Harley Street, in which she had almost dared to hope – but he had been polite and distant, and then Henry had arrived, and all conversation had turned to business matters alone.

Mrs Thornton was detained, she was informed by one of the maids upon her arrival, and was promptly shown into a back parlour that was somewhat less imposing than the one she had been received in only the day before. There was a posy of yellow wild roses on a small table, and she was at once reminded of Helstone – of everything that once was, and could never be retrieved.

So absorbed she was in the contemplation of all that had passed beyond her grasp in the past two years alone that she did not hear the door open, nor the approaching steps that were nothing like Mrs Thornton’s.

“Mr Thornton!” she exclaimed at length, even as he knelt before her, reaching to take both of her hands in his with a kind of slow, solemn determination that had her trembling with sweet foreboding. “What is the meaning of this?”

“Mother told me – no, it is no matter – Miss Hale, you must know there is only one way I could ever be persuaded to accept any such gift from you, though I am aware I have no right to speak to you in this manner, after so material a change in our respective circumstances.”

“You have every right,” she whispered, her eyes suddenly filled with tears. “John.”

The sound of his Christian name coming from her lips had such a profound effect on Mr Thornton that he seemed unable to speak for a moment. “Margaret, take care – if you do not send me away – Margaret,” he murmured, almost feverishly, the warmth of his breath causing her to shiver in anticipation of what was to come. On a strange, reckless impulse, she closed the distance between them, and neither of them spoke again for quite some time.

#North and South #John Thornton #Hannah Thornton #Margaret Hale #Margaret/John #what-if #alternate ending #I wrote a thing

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lothiriel84 · 2 months

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This morning, I looked through my to-do list, and for a split second got all excited when I saw the entry ‘Tiny kitten’… before realising that in fact it said ‘tidy kitchen’. The thing is - I wrote the to-do list myself. What on earth did the bit of me that allowed itself to be excited think yesterday me might have meant? Ok, even as I type that I am aware that the answer is clearly: it thought I might be reminding myself to find, pet and in general be delighted by a tiny kitten. Well, I haven’t done this, so it’s still on the list for tomorrow. Also, I haven’t tidied the kitchen. John Finnemore 1st March Newsletter

#John Finnemore #role models for the youth of today #(yes I'm gonna be 40 this year - shut up)

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lothiriel84 · 2 months

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youtube

When You’re Asked About Israel and Palestine

#Foil Arms and Hog

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lothiriel84 · 2 months

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I hate how if you want to do anything or go anywhere interesting you have to work a full time job to afford that but if you have a full time job you dont have time to do anything or go anywhere interesting!

#I am so very tired

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lothiriel84 · 2 months

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That Looks on Tempests

There were good days, there were bad days, and there were days in which he struggled to pull his thoughts away from the darkest of places.

A North and South ficlet. John/Margaret. Sequel to Never Did Run Smooth

There were good days, there were bad days, and there were days in which he struggled to pull his thoughts away from the darkest of places. He was soon to be a father, but he was still dependant on others for help in his everyday tasks; he could not fully dress himself without his wife’s assistance, and more often than not, even the short walk across the mill yard proved too taxing for his weakened constitution.

His mother had quietly taken upon herself as much of the running of the mill as could be spared from him, and for the sake of a most beloved son, had reconciled herself with working side by side with Higgins as their newly appointed overseer; Margaret herself helped as much as she could, in between tending to her crippled husband, and preparing for the impending arrival of their son or daughter.

“I am nothing but a burden,” he remarked bitterly once, as his ever-patient wife, now heavy with child, helped him into their marital bed, which had only been used for sleep in all the months of their marriage. “Would that I had died that day, and spared us all the indignity of this half-lived existence.”

He regretted his words as soon as they left his lips, even before Margaret rushed out of the room in tears, her pitiful sobs tearing at his heart. It took all the willpower he possessed to force his uncooperative limbs into going after her, all but collapsing at her feet in his desperation to beg for her forgiveness.

Thankfully, the elder Mrs Thornton made a providential appearance just then, and arranged for both her son and her daughter-in-law to be escorted back to their chambers; and when his wife wordlessly slipped under the bedcovers at his side, he put his arms firmly around her and held her throughout the night.

Upon awakening beside her in the morning, he discovered himself grateful for the unvaluable gift that was a life with the woman he loved, and the child they were soon to be blessed with. He vowed never again to give her cause to grieve for his sake, and sealed his promise by kissing her as tenderly as they were wont to in the early days of their betrothal.

Elizabeth Maria Thornton was born on a sunny spring day, not five months after her parents’ wedding. There was talk in Milton, as was to be expected, and some were even as daring as to suggest the child to be the result of an illicit affair – perhaps with the very same lover in which company Miss Hale, as she then was, had been once seen at Outwood Station.

It was perhaps fortunate that little Bessy, as her doting mother insisted she was to be referred to, bore such an unmistakable resemblance to her father; Mr Thornton, for his part, was somewhat doubtful as to the desirability for his family’s distinctively strong features to be passed upon any daughter of his, all the while regarding the child as the most beautiful thing he had ever laid eyes upon.

“I am only sorry I could not give you a son,” Margaret confessed late one night, as they lay in each other’s arms after coaxing the fussing babe back to sleep. She loved her daughter most fiercely, and felt sure she would never have cause to repine, were they to find there was no hope for more children to come out of their marriage; and yet, she knew how much a man of John’s situation in life relied upon producing a son that might one day take up the family business.

“I am not,” John murmured into her neck, his hand beginning to venture in rather bold directions. They had lately discovered that, while still unable to perform the marital act, there were other ways by which they could bring each other pleasure, and were both eager to explore all manner of things that were open to them now that Margaret was quite recovered from the childbed.

Afterwards, she cradled his head very tenderly to her breast as he cried tears of relief that they were granted this much longed-for comfort amidst all other difficulties, and told him she loved him as much as she had ever loved, and could ever love anyone that was not their daughter.

John laughed between his tears, and drifted off to sleep with his lips still pressed to her skin.

It was Higgins who found young Bessy all curled up behind a cartload of cotton bales, shivering in the chilly autumn evening with one of her mother’s shawls wrapped around her.

“You oughtn’t be here, lass,” he told her, as kindly as he knew how, leaning down enough to make eye contact. “You’ll catch your death out here, and what will become of your mother and father then?”

The girl only sobbed louder, in that heart-wrenching manner that is particular to children. “She’s dying, N – they won’t tell me, but Father and Grandmother have scarcely left her bedside since the morning, and I can hear her screaming – always screaming, and I could not bear it, so I ran away.”

“Oh, lass, no,” Higgins shook his head, kneeling at her side and putting his arms around her. “Many a woman has given birth before, and your mother’s as strong as it comes – she’ll come through, I promise, and you’ll have a little one to look after, besides.”

Bessy clutched onto his jacket with more force than could be expected from a slip of a girl that was yet to turn seven. “You don’t understand, Nicholas – Mother told me that God, in his infinite wisdom, had made it so that I could never have a brother or sister, and that we should all be content with His will.”

Higgins shook his head and very nearly bit off his tongue in his effort not to say anything rash that might upset the child. As Thornton’s friend as well as his worker, he had often grieved for the grave misfortune that had befallen the young couple; in all the years since his accident Mr Thornton had recuperated most of his faculties, but as he understood it, Margaret’s latest confinement was nothing short of a miracle – one even Doctor Donaldson could scarcely account for.

“Come, let’s get you to bed,” he spoke at length, guiding her slowly across the mill yard and into the great house. No sooner had they set foot in the imposing hall that Thornton himself dashed down the stairs two steps at a time, and swiftly gathered his trembling daughter in his arms.

“There you are, I've been looking for you – your mother wishes you to meet your new brother,” Mr Thornton announced with a smile that spoke of joy and bone-deep tiredness alike.

Bessy looked quite startled for a moment, then took her father’s hand with a somewhat hesitant smile of her own.

“Do pass on my congratulations to Miss Margaret, Master,” Higgins grinned, entirely pleased at the news, and tipping off his hat showed himself out.

#North and South #John Thornton #Margaret Hale #Nicholas Higgins #Margaret/John #unspecified injury #implied/referenced sexual dysfunction #medical inaccuracies #I don't even know #I wrote a thing #The Loom of Life (series)

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