mr. liddle

Shatter me, Part 2.

A/N: I must admit I’m excited with this story and I have a lot of ideas for it! I hope y’all like it as much as I do and remember. Correct me whatever you want, comments, anything! Requests are open and there is a prompt list here !

Ps: God, I want to thank Google and Pinterest for the types of fabrics and necklines. Really. For a non-native English speaker is hard to describe this things fluently.

Originally posted by mustachedcheetosman

You woke up the following morning and stretched your body, feeling your bones cracking. You moved the blankets and took a shower, relaxing as the hot water cleaned your skin. You put the clothes you wore the day before on and took your belongings, going to the cafe.

The place was exactly as it was when you left. The same clients, sit on the same positions. Everything was the same, except for the weather. The sun’s rays came through the windows enlightening the whole place.

“Would you like to have breakfast, my dear?” Granny said and you nodded, paying her for the room but when you tried to pay the food, she shook her head. “Breakfast included”

You waited in your armchair and felt your stomach growling as the small of pancakes filled the air. God, they smelled as the ones your mother used to cook for you.

You remembered the conversation you had with her the night before and wrinkled your nose, wondering why she was like that and what she would tell you when you came back.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the door’s bell as a new client came inside the cafe. It was again that strange man who you had seen the night before. His eyes laid on your face and drilled down it, analysing you. The young girl brought your breakfast and the man sat down in his seat. You grabbed the waiter’s sleeve, called Ruby, and whispered.

“Who’s that man?”

“Him?” She said looking over her shoulder. The man was again reading that book. “It’s Jefferson”

Jefferson, you muttered, feeling the name on your lips as you pronounced it. His face was still familiar to you and you thought that maybe you were becoming mad. You shrugged and began to eat your breakfast, enjoying the views you had. When you’d finished, you said goodbye to anyone in particular and left the coffee.

Your car was there, waiting for you to drive your grandmother’s home. The town was completely different now that you were seeing it with the morning lights. It seemed like the typical beautiful American village. You stared at the letter and looked for the adress until you found it. You parked in front of the house and got off the car.

It was a huge house. The wooden walls were painted with a dim blue and the roof was made of slate. It had a garage with a white door and the whole was was surrounded by an iron fence, as the ones used in the Victorian times. The garden was filled with beautiful flowers and the grass needed to be cut. You took your suitcase and walked over the stone pavement that led to the house, taking the key the lawyer had given to you when you visited her.

“Hello?” You jumped and the key fell on the wooden floor of the porch, clinking. You turned and saw a boy staring at you. “Who are you?”

“Oh, uhm…I’m Y/N”

“What are you doing here?”

“I came here because this belonged to my grandmother. She died” You said as you picked up the key. You felt the boy’seyes fixed on you and that made you uncomfortable as if you were an intruder.

And you were, technically.

“Mrs. Liddle was your grandmother?” The boy said and frowned, smiling after a few minutes. “You look like her”

“Really? I never met her, so…”


“I…I don’t know honestly” He nodded and showed you his little hand.

“I’m Henry. Nice to meet you, Y/N”

“Pleasure is mine” You answered smiling at him and shaking his hand.

“I have to go. Will you stay here?”

“I don’t know yet. I’ll see the house and I’ll probably sell it”

Henry opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something but instead he ran away, leaving the house. You shrugged, thinking about that boy and who could be his parents. It seemed he knew everything about the town. Maybe, you thought, it would be a good ide asking him.

You introduced the key inside the lock, leaning your whole weight against the old door, who opened slowly with a cracking sound. It was like the one used in terror films.

Your hands touched the walls several times until you reached the switch, turning the lights on and closing the door. Your mouth fell open as you saw the living room of that house.

It was like if you had travelled to Wonderland, that land from your favourite book, Alice in Wonderland. You stared at everything around you, looking at a ball of yarn. It seemed Mrs. Liddle had been knitting something. You went to the rest of the rooms, finding that there were three bedrooms, two bathrooms and a door that was locked, which made you frowned. Mrs. Rogers, the lawyer, didn’t give you more keys.

You decided it wasn’t important at the moment and chose a bedroom, leaving your suitcase there. It seemed that was once used by a young girl. The bed had soft chiffon drapery that fell around it and an iron headboard painted in white. The wardrobe was made in wood and when you opened it, you found clothes that seemed to belong to another era. You took one of them, watching yourself in the mirror as you put it in front of your body.

It was cream white, with several silk parts mixed with the chiffon. It had a queen Anne neckline and you were astonished of its beauty. You put it inside the wardrobe again and sighed, taking your own clothes and your toiletry bag, placing it on the dresser.

When everything was done, you went to the kitchen just to find the fridge was empty. Of course. You sighed and took your purse and the keys, going outside the house.

The streets were empty and you were surprised of it, taking into account it was a working day in the morning. You wished Henry could help you as your feet lead to see the whole town, looking for a grocery’s store. Luckily, you found one and you bought everything you might need for the following days. Some neighbours of the town were there and you felt their eyes fixed on you.

It wasn’t until you were in the house again when you felt relief.

You called you mother using the hands-free device as you were ordering the food on the several cupboards made of wood. Her voice seemed worried and you sighed.

“I don’t understand anything, to be honest” You said placing your hand on the kitchen island. “Actually, the house is much bigger than anything I’d seen before. We could live here as it belongs to us”

“No, Y/N. I’m not coming back to Storybrooke again”

“Again?!” Your voice rose and your mother shut up, the phone being silent. “Listen, I love you, mom, but you have to trust me and telling me what’s happening”

“I’ll do. I swear. But please come back as soon as you can”

“Yeah, okay. I’ll call you tomorrow”

You hung up and sighed, rubbing your eyes with your fingers. You hated when people kept secrets from you. Moreover, secrets that were related to you and your own family. You took a glass filled with juice and moved to the living room, observing all the books kept in the bookshelves. There were plenty of them, covering the walls. On the fireplace’s there were several photos put in frames. Your hands began to shake and the glass fell on the floor, shattering.

“What the hell is that?” You took one of the photographs there and stared at it. It was an old one and it seemed to be done in England. A young lady was there and you recognised the dress as one of which were kept in the wardrobe. She was smiling at the photographer and your whole body shivered as you saw her face. It was the same as yours. You saw the photo by its side and froze as you saw the two people in it. Below it, there was something written with a ballpoint pen.

Alice Liddell and her daughter, England.

The older woman seemed to be your grandmother. The other, a little girl of around six years old, was your own mother.

The Old Gods Demand It

Author: CommaSplice

Ship(s): Rickon/Shireen

NSFW? Safe for work

Trigger warning(s):  Mention of depression and other mental illness (implied)

Brief Summary: Rickon Stark has a crush on Shireen Baratheon. Attempting to ease into a situation where she might be willing to date him, he asks her to help him bake some cookies without telling her why. When she asks the reason, he gets flustered. A little lie soon grows rapidly out of control.

Keep reading


Emma Watson Gets Bullied for Promoting Gender Equality: Writer Says She Should “Stick to Telling the Rules of Quidditch”

Emma Watson, a Goodwill Ambassador for the United Nations, made a call for gender equality in a recent speech for the HeForShe campaign in New York, and while her efforts are beyond respectable, one writer used it as an opportunity to bully the star.

Her captivating speech challenged universities to provide “equal respect, leadership and pay” in order to “tell women that their brain power is valued.” She also encouraged universities to “make it clear” that the safety of women (as well as minorities and anyone who may be vulnerable) is “a right and not a privilege.”

While the speech was yet another applause-worthy move by the actress to promote gender equality and women’s rights, The Sun used it as a means to make fun of her.

Offered without comment - The Sun’s response to Emma Watson addressing the UN about gender equality and sexual assault.

In a clip from the publication (which was captured by Louise Ridley and posted on Twitter), the writer, Rod Liddle, condemns Watson for her boring “whining, leftie, PC crap,” which he says “all actresses do if we are stupid enough to give them the chance.”

Liddle, instead, suggests “Hermione Granger” should “stick to telling [people] the rules of quidditch or how to turn someone into a frog.”

Though he says he doesn’t object to “them” (them, meaning actresses) having views, he doesn’t understand “why we take them seriously.”

It seems as though Mr. Liddle didn’t do his research on Watson before publishing the article, so we figured we’d give him some insight:

Not only did she graduate from Brown University, but she’s also been an ambassador for the UN for two years, working on initiatives for the HeForShe campaign to raise awareness and promote gender equality and women’s rights. She’s given educational and respectable speeches on the subject time and time again and has become a major face in Hollywood to battle against its lack of gender equality and sexism.

Amid maintaining her career and her work with the UN, she also started a feminist book club called Our Shared Shelf and has fully participated in it, using the opportunity to further her own feminist education.

So, if Liddle or anyone else is questioning “Hermione’s” involvement in these matters, we remind you of the questions she once presented herself: 

“If not me, who? If not now, when?”