#favourite crime

[ineffablywriting]

favourite crime - part ii

Part ii - retail therapy

It had been just under two months since she had spoken to Harry. She hadn’t bothered to reach out again. She figured if he ever wanted to chat he would reach out himself but he never did. 

Initially she’d been hopeful that once he’d calmed down enough that he would try and talk to her again. But that hope had dwindled as the days had gone on, and had officially been snuffed out when she’d received an email from his lawyer three weeks ago. 

It had demanded a paternity test once the baby was born and included a contract and an NDA outlining that Alena was to never publicly speak of Harry being the father, if the paternity test proved true, and an agreed upon amount that he would pay each month as child support. 

She’d quickly signed the NDA and emailed it back before contacting her own lawyer about the contract. 

She’d been telling the truth when she’d said she never wanted anything from Harry, so she’d had them whip up a contract of her own stipulating that she would never ask Harry for any money, but that she also wouldn’t hide his identity from the child once they were old enough to understand and go looking for him. She’d also added a clause that allowed Harry any parental rights should he change his mind, but that when the baby was older Alena would not force a relationship between them if they refused contact with him. 

She’d promptly sent that off as well and hadn’t heard anything since. She hadn’t expected this sort of prolonged reaction from Harry, she’d thought he was one of the good ones, and she was heartbroken that he’d proved her wrong and furious with herself for allowing herself to love him enough that his reaction caused her heart to pinch every time she thought about him. But she didn’t care anymore, she couldn’t care anymore, she had more pressing things to take care of. 

Morning sickness had been an absolute nightmare for her. She’d barely been able to keep any food down and when she’d last gone to see her family doctor she’d been told she had lost too much weight and needed to better maintain her diet. 

Which was easier said than done when everything made her want to throw up. 

She sighed, eyeing the dry biscuits she’d been eating each morning with reluctance. It had been the only thing that didn’t upset her stomach, like she’d been recovering from a stomach virus. 

But this morning she wanted cereal. 

Letting out a quiet sigh, she pushed the biscuits aside and stood up, reaching up for a bowl and her favourite chocolate cereal. She poured only a very small amount before adding some milk and tentatively taking a bite. When she didn’t immediately gag she continued to eat, bringing the milk and cereal pack with her to the table. 

She was halfway through her second bowl when her phone vibrated with a call. 

She stared at the screen in surprise, letting it ring and ring until it stopped then picked up again. 

Gemma Styles calling…

This time she reached out and hesitantly slid the screen across to answer.

She hadn’t expected Harry’s sister to reach out. She’d figured Harry would have told her and his mum everything and they too would want nothing to do with her. 

“He-hello?” she answered, cautiously. 

“My brother is a twat,” Gemma greeted her back. 

Alena choked on the small bite of cereal she’d just swallowed and moved the phone away from her ear to cough and clear her throat. 

“I’m sorry?” she brought the phone back to her ear, sure she must have misheard. 

“My brother is a twat,” Gemma repeated calmly. “Are you ok?” she asked, a hint of concern in her words. 

“Yeah, just-just food went down the wrong pipe.”

“She’s fine mum, just choked on a bit of food,” she heard Gemma call out in the background. So Anne was there too. Alena stood up and started to pace nervously. 

“Ok so, back to my brother being a twat. He is, just in case you missed it. He only just told us everything last week. Why haven’t you called us? Mum’s worried.” 

“I - I didn’t know, I mean, I didn’t think you guys would - I don’t understand. If Harry told you everything then why -” but Gemma cut her off. 

“Why are we calling you?” she asked, words gentle. 

“Yeah,” Alena breathed out. “I didn’t think you’d want to hear from me again.” 

“Yeah, well, we’ve known you almost as long as we’ve known Harry. Just because he’s got his head up his arse, doesn’t mean we do. Besides, we’d at least like to hear your side of things. And honestly, mum is a bit chuffed at the idea of a grandkid. I don’t think she really cares how they come to exist.” 

Alena just imagined Gemma’s eye roll at that and couldn’t help but let out a little laugh. It was full of relief and love for the two women she knew were listening on the other side. 

“Sorry,” she sighed, feeling as though the weight of the world had been lifted off her shoulders. “I didn’t want to step on anyone’s toes by calling you,” she admitted, refusing to mention Harry’s name. 

“Harry is a grown man. He can handle us having you in our lives even if he doesn’t approve. And if he can’t, tough. We’ve put up with worse for him,” Gemma said firmly. “Now, mum wants to know when you are free for dinner. We have a couple months worth of catching up to do.” 

“Uh-.” 

“No, Harry won’t be there,” Gemma said before she could ask. Alena let a small smile slip onto her lips as she imagined the eye roll she was getting. 

“I’m free any time,” she replied, refusing to acknowledge how sad and pathetic that sounded. 

“Great, we’ll see you tomorrow night then,” Gemma said happily before they quickly ended the call. 

Alena put her phone down and turned back to her cereal. A small part of her heart had unravelled during the phone call and she felt it fill up with hope as she allowed a small smile to slip onto her face. 

-

He was dating Olivia Wilde. 

It had felt like a punch to the gut when Alena had seen the pictures. She hadn’t been prepared for it, it hadn’t even been something that had crossed her mind as a possibility. Yet there Harry was, pictured out with her and her kids looking like a happy family while she sat at home with his own child growing in her womb, and he couldn’t spare a single thought towards her. 

She knew part of the feelings clenching around her heart were due to the hormones that were swirling wildly in her body, but a larger part was hurt that he’d rather play family with someone else and their kids, than with her. Was being with Alena really that bad? 

She didn’t have time to think about it for too long, the spiralling thoughts interrupted by a knock at her door. 

She had no idea who it could be, thinking maybe she had imagined it until they knocked again. She hurried to her feet, grabbed her keys and unlocked the door without looking through the peephole. 

“Oh, hey Gemma,” she greeted in surprise. Dinner with Gemma and Anne had felt like travelling back in time to when they’d all get together and catch up on all the different stories Harry had told each of them over the weeks he’d spent away on tour. He’d confessed to her once that he never told any of them the same story to make sure they all stayed in touch and took care of one another while he was away. He claimed he felt guilty leaving his mum and sister alone all the time, but Alena had known he’d done it mostly for her. 

They’d grown up together. Every important milestone in their lives had been a shared moment between the two of them when no one else was around. They’d been so many of each other’s firsts and helped each other stay on solid ground when the world was spiralling out of control around them. But each time Harry went away on tour and Alena was left behind, she knew he felt guilty as they drifted further and further apart from each other and she was left alone again. 

Gemma and Anne were family, and after she’d lost her own parents, Harry had wanted her to have some semblance of home while he was away as well. And maybe a small part of him hoped it would help stop the chasm forming between them. 

It had been stories like that and throwaway moments of thoughtfulness that had chipped away at her heart until she’d unknowingly fallen in love with him - a consequence Harry hadn’t ever considered. 

“Hey,” Gemma grinned at her, gently pushing Alena aside and making her way into the apartment. 

Alena flinched at the pile of dishes she’d left in the sink and hoped Gemma wouldn’t judge her for the mess. She was too busy wallowing in self pity to do any housework. 

“Sooo, how are you?” Gemma asked on her way to the lounge. “Dinner was nice. Mum wants to do it again soon. She couldn’t stop talking about how nice it was to have all her girls back together, as though there were more than two of us there,” Gemma rolled her eyes before her expression softened into something like wistfulness. “It was nice though,” she admitted. “I don’t even remember the last time we’d all gotten together. It’s been months. Ever since Harry came back and stole all your time,” she joked. 

Alena’s smile dimmed a little at the mention of her brother and just how much of her time he used to occupy. She hadn’t noticed it until after he’d swiftly exited her life just how reliant on his company she’d become. She was quite cranky at herself for allowing him to weasel his way into taking up all her free time again. The first week he hadn’t called, all Alena had done was sit in front of the telly and try to fill the empty Harry shaped hole in her life with reruns and food. Eventually she’d snapped herself out of it. Now she wondered if there were others who had fallen for the charm and dazzle that was all Harry the way she had, and been left just as high and dry with an aching heart that refused to give up on him. 

She wondered if Olivia Wilde would be the same. 

“Sorry,” she apologised to Gemma. “I don’t know how it happened. I missed you guys too.” 

“It’s not your fault. Harry does it to everyone. He did it when you guys were kids as well,” she rolled her eyes. “The two of you always used to be off in your own little bubble. We’d have to beat it with a stick to get it to pop until you paid the rest of us some attention,” she joked. But Alena still felt bad. 

“He’s just got that thing about him,” she eventually sighed, shoulders dipping in disappointment as the nostalgia of childhood friendships and how easy everything had been back then hit her like a truck. 

“Forget about him,” Gemma said gently, coming up beside Alena and nudging her shoulder. “He may be my brother but he’s not worth wallowing over when he’s being this unreasonable.” 

“That’s easier said than done when his face is literally everywhere, smiling and laughing as though this huge life changing event isn’t going to impact him at all,” Alena grumbled bitterly. 

“Ah. So you’ve seen the pictures already,” Gemma said sheepishly. “Mum and I were hoping I could get to you in time before you saw anything,” she admitted. 

“So this isn’t a social call because you miss spending time with me?” Alena tried to joke. 

“Why can’t it be both?” Gemma grinned back, linking their arms and pulling her further into the apartment. “Come on, get changed. Let’s go shopping and then grab some lunch. I can’t wait to spoil my niece-slash-nephew.” 

Alena groaned. “Please, no. I can't even look at baby things right now. I was looking up a list of things to get and there’s so much,” she looked at Gemma with wide eyes. “Why are there so many different types of prams, Gem? What do they all do? What if I get the wrong one?” 

Gemma laughed. “Don’t worry, you’ve got mum and I around. We’ll help pick things out for the little nugget. I’m pretty sure I saw mum looking up bassinets the other day,” she admitted. “And I won’t lie, I’ve started going to the baby section in some stores. I haven’t bought anything yet though,” she promised, sitting on Alena’s bed while she changed. 

It didn’t take Alena long to throw on an old sweatshirt and some jeans before the two girls were heading out the door, a sense of peace and comfort settling over Alena’s heart, soothing the aching wound Harry had left. 

She was so distracted and happy, wrapping herself and Gemma in a protective bubble of bliss as they walked from store to store buying too many clothes and things they didn’t need, that she didn’t even notice the random flashes of light as people took their photos while they talked and laughed. 

And so when she got home that day after promising Gemma that she’d come by for lunch with her and Anne in a couple of days, and saw her phone light up with a Twitter notification of a ‘Styles sighting’, she ignored it. She wasn’t going to let anything Harry related ruin the rest of her night. 

-

“Stay away from my family,” Harry glared at her from the doorway. When Alena had opened her front door she’d been expecting a teenager with a pizza box in his hands, not Harry. So when she’d looked up from where she’d been tracking her food on her phone, she’d frozen in shock, unable to get a single word out. 

Not that it mattered, Harry seemed to be there to deliver a message and move on. 

Alena blinked up at him, unsure how to respond. 

“Did you hear me?” he huffed. “Stay away from my mum and sister.” 

“I didn’t contact them,” she eventually managed to say, her hands coming up and wrapping protectively around herself. 

Harry’s eyes instinctively looked down at the movement, his gaze lingering for a moment on her stomach. She was just over three months pregnant now and still not showing, but Harry’s frown still made her feel self conscious. 

“You’ve lost weight,” he commented, his voice losing a little of its edge and his eyes losing a little of their ice. But he quickly shook himself out of it and fixed a glare back on his face, bringing the conversation back to the reason why he was there. “I don’t care who contacted whom. Just stay away from them,” he repeated. “Or I’ll take out a restraining order,” he added, almost as an afterthought. 

Alena flinched back, her eyes widening in disbelief and anger. 

She felt her heart pick up its pace and her cheeks heat up. She didn’t care who he was or how much he thought she had wronged him, he had no right threatening her with something like that.

He seemed to realise it too, his face crumpling in apology almost as soon as he had said the words. But it was too late to take them back and Alena was too angry in that moment to give him a chance to do so anyway. 

If she took a moment to think about it, took a moment to just analyse the situation a little bit, she would have picked up on the strange back and forth Harry seemed to be having internally. As though he was saying and doing all the things that were expected of him, while a long ago locked up part of his heart warred with him to be kind. 

“I don’t care who you think you are, Harry,” she spoke stiffly. “But you have no right coming to my door and threatening me with something like that. I never, not once, reached out to Anne or Gemma out of respect for you. They came to me. I don’t care what you see online, you should know better than to believe everything.” 

She moved to close the door, but Harry stuck a foot out before she could slam it in his face. 

“If you think you can trick me into a relationship by charming my mum and sister-”

But Alena cut him off. “Fuck you, Harry Styles,” she said, anger rolling off her in waves. She had never been so hurt and so mad at someone all at the same time. “Fuck you for thinking so low of me. God, you-,” she shook her head, trying to fight back the sudden onslaught of tears that were clogging up her throat. “I can’t believe I wasted a single second of my life loving you,” she laughed bitterly, her heart yelling at her that she still loved him. “You know, I’ve had my heart broken before. By old boyfriends, by friends, even by you. I never gave any of them a second shot at breaking me again. Except for you. I let you break my heart on so many occasions, I was an idiot for letting you do it again. Please,” she begged desperately, tired of feeling on edge and of all the heartbreak Harry brought with him. “Please, just leave me alone. It’s something you’ve been very good at for the last few months, I’m sure you can do it again. But you can’t ask me to have no one, to stay away from the two people who have cared about me. Anne and Gemma have always been my family as well, even if you no longer are. You took my love, trust and friendship and threw it all away like it meant nothing to you. I won’t let you take them away from me too,” she said fiercely. 

She waited until Harry took a step back, then closed the door, making sure to lock it behind her. 

She ignored it when he knocked and called for her again, more gently this time. But Alena was done. She wasn’t going to tiptoe around Harry anymore to spare his feelings when he had zero regard for her own. 

-

Thoughts are always appreciated <3

[knowitsforthebetterr]

hope i was your favourite crime

[butiwasdoingitwithyou]

song lyrics that have the same energy (to me)

[sillyengineerperson]

Im in a very olivia rodrigo phase right now

i have just listened to her for most of this week

and really want to see her live

but no fuck you ticketmaster

and also im absolutly vibing with her lyrics until so american

(which is like my favourite song rn)

BUT

I ,unlike olivia, am ovewhelmingly and depressingly single

and im jealous of that

and oh my god favourite crime is so fun to sing

[i-booksandfandoms]

[judeniriain8]

Song of the Day

[wilsonsmcgillsweatshirt]

When their entire relationship is toxic, but they're both so fucked up that it's actually the best case scenario, because subjecting anybody else to either of them would be a human rights violation.

[starlightseraph]

can we talk about how wilson’s office is right next to house’s?

isn’t he supposed to be the head of oncology? babygirl, why aren’t you, idk, stationed in the oncology department? why do you just happen to have an office adjoined to your boybestfriend’s? why do your two offices have a connected balcony? why are you the only people in the whole hospital with a setup like that?? who put you guys together? cuddy? that’s like a teacher sitting students with crushes on each other at the same table. why does she let you stay there when she’s seen the situations it produces? does she ship it too? we know she does enjoy the insanity, to an extent. does the entire hospital have a betting pool on when house and wilson will finally get their shit together? probably.

these two dumbasses are so the main characters, its blatantly obvious that the entire world is built around them. i love it.

[sam-reid]

Evil is a point of view. God kills indiscriminately, and so shall we. For no creatures under God are as we are, none so like him as ourselves.

Lestat de Lioncourt

INTERVIEW WITH THE VAMPIRE (1994) | INTERVIEW WITH THE VAMPIRE (2022- ).

[russell-crowe]

wilson in every episode: 1x04: maternity

[tvobsessivefanatic]

Alright, so Bruce Wayne. Billionaire, philanthropist, etc. but with his face card and that obviously jacked body, has anyone never asked him to model or maybe star in a movie or some show?

Because Imagine, Bruce, a Vogue model, staring in various famous shows. I can see him as the Ryan Reynolds of DC, if not, he'd definitely be the Mads Mikkelson.

Sticking to Mads Mikkelson part, Bruce would commonly be casted as a villain. It's his own form of therapy, makes him think of living the life of what he could've been If he choose crime rather than crime fighting.

Not to mention he would be well known around the younger audience as the face of the "DILF" category.

I know damn well he would be famous among the action film industry with his incredible delivery in action scenes.

[ansatsu-sha]

Although not common on the Discworld there are, indeed, such things as anti-crimes, in accordance with the fundamental law that everything in the multiverse has an opposite. They are, obviously, rare. Merely giving someone something is not the opposite of robbery; to an anti-crime, it has to be done in such a way as to cause outrage and/or humiliation to the victim.

So there is breaking-and-decorating, proffering-with-embarrassment (as in most retirement presentations) and whitemailing (as in threatening to reveal to his enemies a mobster's secret donations, for example, to charity). Anti-crimes have never really caught on.

Terry Pratchett / Reaper Man

[spooksicl-e]

little granada!holmes drawing i did as a request over on insta:]

[the-great-kraken]

some of y'all will say that jason todd has never done anything wrong and then turn around and declare damian an irredeemable asshole and i hate to break it to you but i think you're just a racist

[bunnyreaper]

welder!ghost au

After taking so many welding lessons from Simon and developing a crush, you decide to make him a little something to show your appreciation.

(f!reader, simon is a fucking weirdo, jealousy)

As soon as you'd set your mind to the idea, it wouldn't leave you.

Just like everything to do with Simon, it's buried its way into your brain and taken up residence there, gnawing away until you decide to do something about it.

How you're going to do it is something different, though. There's no way in hell you could get away with making something secret in Simon's workshop, right under his nose like that. That man is far too observant to let something like that slip by, and the surprise is part of the fun.

You want to show him everything you've learned from him, every moment that you've hung off of his every word and listened to everything he has to say, every time you've watched him work and absorbed his expertise.

You settle on a bracelet, braided stainless steel, each step made by your loving hands. Hopefully, he'll wear it, and hopefully, you can guess his wrist size properly--fucking massive isn't exactly a precise measurement.

It should take too long, not with everything he's taught you, and you can be back to working in his shop again instead of the one across the city with the guys he doesn't like. You wouldn't go there under any other circumstances, were the situation not desperate. And when you get there, you understand Simon's judgement completely, not that you ever doubted it to begin with. The guys are creepy, and they stare, as well as make comments that are misogynistic, flirtatious, or an outrageous mix of both.

You're on high alert almost the entire time you work, but you try to push it out of your mind in favour of making everything perfect for Simon. Each weld, each sand, each polish, has to be perfect for him because anything else would be doing his tutelage a disservice. You've seen the disappointed looks he's given some members of the classes when his mask is flipped up, but you'd never been on the receiving end--always so eager to please and impress. That won't change now. You won't allow it.

You braid the steel wire with a drill and a vice, cut the pieces you need, sand the ends and get to work on welding them together. It's delicate work, and your mind only slightly drifts to some of your lessons where Simon had lurked behind you, the heat of his body so close to yours as you worked.

You finish the edges and bend the metal to the desired shape, trying to imagine Simon's wrists as you work--which is surprisingly easy considering how much you've stared at that sleeve of his.

The second you finish, you bolt out of that horrid workshop, off in search of a nice box and some wrapping to finish off the gift. You had a session with Simon the following Monday, and it's then you'll present it to him--if you're feeling brave enough.

Monday rolls round, and the workshop is empty when you arrive, save for Simon working away in the corner. You can tell by the way his posture stiffens that he knows someone has entered, even over the noise of his work, because he's always so perceptive.

The box is in your hand, and your palms are starting to sweat as you call out to him. "Hey Si."

He finishes up what he's doing and makes his way over, setting his welding mask down and revealing his handsome features. "Just us tonight." His comment seems fairly inconsequential, but honestly, you preferred it that way, getting to be the sole focus of his attention.

You nod in response, knowing you should just get the gift giving out of the way so you can both get to work, but your stomach twists with worry. What if he hates it? What if he never wears it?

"What's that?" He asks, eyes flickering down and clocking the box and the source of your troubles immediately.

You thrust it at him, almost as if the box burns to touch. "A gift, for you, it's silly really, but I just wanted to say thank you for everything..."

For the lessons, for his attention, for never treating you as lesser.

He rips off his gloves before he gets to work on the wrapping paper, and peels open the jewellery box to see the steel band inside.

"If you hate it, it's fine. It's just a little token of my appreciation." You rush out your words--damage control.

His dark eyes flicker between you and the bracelet, his expression unreadable before he pulls it from the box and places it around his tattooed wrist. The fit is perfect, but his reaction isn't as his expression sours. "Where did you make this?"

"Huh?" You startle, as that wasn't what you expected to come from his mouth at all.

His eyes narrow, and you swear he takes a step closer. "You didn't make this in my shop. Where did you make it?"

Oh fuck, you think, realising you have to admit to stepping foot in that other shop. You avert your gaze as a sheepish expression overtakes your features. "Uh, PK's shop, I wanted to surprise you so, I went there..."

His hand grips your chin, forcing you to look him right in those stormy eyes. "You wanna make something for me? You make it in my shop, yeah? My student, my shop."

The possessive words make you shiver, make you want to fall for your knees, and beg for forgiveness for the unknowing betrayal.

"Yeah, okay, of course... I mean I hated it there, I swear, they gave me the absolute creeps." You try to laugh away the swirling guilt and discomfort you feel. "Left as soon as I was done, and even gave them a 1 star review. But, I'll never go back, I promise."

Your eyes shine up at Simon's, waiting for him to relax.

"That's my girl." Finally, his touch releases and he steps away, grabbing his gloves. "Let me finish up what I'm working on real quick, yeah?"

"Of course." You nod quietly, watching as he walks away as your stomach starts to sink. At least he didn't take it off. "Do you... like it?"

He stops still, checking out where it sits on his wrist. His expression doesn't change, but you can hear the sincerity in his words. "Love it."

And a week or two later, when Simon asks you to come by the shop one night outside of your sessions, you're not entirely sure what to expect.

He explains he's trying something new, and needs your help, and doesn't explain anything further. But it's Simon, so of course you comply, of course you trust him.

It's only when he brings out a micro welder and a small length of gold chain that you realise what's happening. The intense look in his eyes before he gets to work leaves no room for argument, and you silently accept your fate as he permanently attaches that little bracelet to your wrist--a dainty little 'S' charm hanging from the middle.