#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

[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.

[judeniriain8]

Song of the Day

[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.

[solargeist]

scar's first 3rd life death being the fault of grian and martyn goofing around

[startaegi]

CHAPTER 001 . . .

previous next masterlist playlist

You often wondered about the first moment you fell in love. It happened so gradually that you couldn't quite recall the moment it finally clicked. The same thought followed you in the small hours of the night, on the long work days when your feet and back ached, and especially on the days when you missed his presence most.

It had been the summer of 2008 when you first met him. You were a bright eyed eleven year old, too innocent for the world. The sun had finally started shining after a long week of summer showers and so your sketch pads laid against the hot pavement, pencils scattered around you. Your bottom lip was jutted in concentration, hands flying across the paper, a brown pencil tucked between your fingers.

You paused as a shadow blocked the sunlight casting darkness across your drawing. You slowly glanced upward expecting your mother but instead a boy towered over you, eyes focused on the paper at your folded legs. You looked down and back at him again.

"That's pretty good" He said, finger pointed to the cat drawing you were currently sketching.

"Thanks" You replied, tone clipped. "Can you move? You're blocking the sunlight"

He shuffled to the side, the soles of his shoes scuffing against the pavement. He continued to hover over you for the next minute or two, eyes focused and head moving when your pencil flicked in a certain direction. You tried your best to remain cool, uncomfortable under the unknown boys stare.

You dropped the pencil, staring up at him. "What are you doing?" You questioned.

"Watching you" He replied matter of factly.

"It's creepy"

He shrugged. "As i've heard before"

His words softened your gaze a little. You knew what kids were like. Their mean words, their horrid actions. You had known it a little too well, it was the reason you chose to stay so close guarded. Even at eleven you knew how cruel the world could be.

You straightened your back, apologetically looking back at him. "I didn't mean that" You said sincerely.

"It's okay, i'm used to it" He laughed it off. "Do you live here?" The boy pointed to the house behind you, the one with the windows pulled open and the trot music lowly drifting out.

"Yeah" You admitted, a little embarrassed.

He scratched the back of his arm, a red mark, almost like a burn, stood out against his pale skin. "Cool, we're neighbours" He beamed.

Hyehwa Station was fairly empty for a Saturday night. The only sounds came from the racketing trains passing through and the footsteps of the commuters heading home after their 9 to 5's. You wrapped the coat tighter around yourself, attempting to savour the warmth and took a seat at the empty bench. The small screen read ten minutes until the next train to Itaewon. You let out a sigh stretching your legs. The long work hours were slowly killing you.

Too busy trying not to fall asleep you took no notice of the person now sat beside you, too tired to care, until he loudly cleared his throat. You looked to your right, a well dressed man smiled, a little menacing if you were honest, at you, briefcase at his side. You smiled awkwardly back, bowing your head slightly out of politeness.

"Would you like to play a game?" The man questioned, the same uncanny smile on his face.

The unsettling feeling of dread settled in your stomach. You moved closer to the edge of the bench, as far from him as you could. "Excuse me?" You replied.

His head titled to the side, facial expression frozen. "Would you like to play a game?" He repeated.

"No thank you" You muttered under your breath.

The stranger didn't reply instead he stood up, opening the briefcase on the now empty spot he had once been sitting. You watched him in confusion, you didn't have the time or energy to be dealing with the strange people that frequented the subway stations. You pinched the bridge between your eyebrows, sighing loudly.

"Would you like to play a game?" He asked again as if stuck on a record.

"Look-" You started, turning to face him but froze momentarily. "What?" You asked dumbfounded.

Enough money to pay the month's rent gleamed up at you. Stacks upon stacks of Korean won sat neatly in the briefcase. You glanced up at him and back at the bills again. You didn't hesitate before asking, "What's the game?"

The man's eyes sparkled, his smile somehow becoming wider. He reminded you of something from the horror comics you used to read as a child.

He reached into the case pulling out two envelopes, red and blue. "Ddakji" He said, gaze fixated on you. "I'm sure you know how to play"

You hadn't in years, you'd probably only played it once or twice but you nodded nonetheless.

His twinkling eyes crinkled with a smile, "Win and i'll give you 100,000 won. Lose and you'll receive a punishment." He paused. "Ready?"

Your brows furrowed. "Punishment?"

"Just a light slap"

At this point you didn't care, you would've taken any punishment if it meant winning the money in that briefcase and you were winning it.

"Okay" You agreed, standing up and shrugging the backpack from your shoulders, then placing it onto the bench.

Five rounds later and you were 100,000 won richer. Your left cheek throbbed, your eyes filled with tears. Your mouth tasted metallic from the cuts you'd bit into your cheeks in frustration. He was too good at this, his calmness told you he'd done it one too many times.

"Congratulations, Y/N-ssi" The man applauded, slowly clapping.

You stared back at him through hooded eyes, attempting to catch your breath. He stretched out a hand, fingers delicately picking up the stack of cash and passing it to you. You quickly snatched it, scared he would take it away from you and tucked it safely into the pocket of your coat.

He closed the case, turning to face you cheerfully. It seemed this man didn't know how to be upset. He reached into his pocket, taking out a small brown card and holding it out for you. You hesitated but took it from his grasp. Three symbols stared up you, a square, a triangle and a circle.

"Call the number on the back if you're interested in winning a lot more" He said, bowing in your direction and then taking off towards the exit.

You flipped it over and truth be told a number was there. Your mouth twisted, mind in battle with itself. If it was another game of ddakji or even worse, some other childhood game, you'd be screwed, you would be loosing whatever money was up for grabs in the first round. Your childhood was spent in comic books and colouring pencils, or in textbooks and homework, not on the playground with other kids playing games, you'd have no idea how too.

Your mind contemplated it over on the train ride home, occupying your running thoughts with something else for once. You entered the cold apartment at almost midnight, instantly throwing yourself face down onto the bed. Your backpack and coat still on. You let your body sink into the mattress, exhaling loudly. The apartment was silent, so quiet you could hear the refrigerator humming and the wind rattling against the windows.

These were the nights when your mind went to him. When it was quiet. When it was your heartbeat you could hear and not his underneath you. You flipped onto your back, backpack digging into you, moving uncomfortably you pulled it from your shoulders tossing it onto the floor. Your fingers found your pockets taking out the brown card, staring intently at the phone number. When had your life become such a shit show, when had accepting a beating from a stranger in the subway station for 100,000 become the normal. This wasn't how you planned it for yourself. You often wondered where it all went wrong.

previous next masterlist playlist

note . . . i had to give the reader an age to make the story make sense!! i listened to rosé’s album on repeat writing this chapter and it fits the plot perfectly. layout inspo for entire series belongs to @ourseasone

taglist . . . let me know if you wanna be added!

[icarusesdickarus]

i saw this on my dash today

but i was like… yeah that’s actually just canon in house md

[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- ).

[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.

[russell-crowe]

wilson in every episode: 1x04: maternity

[or-what-you-will]

Il avait saisi une harpe et il commença de me chanter, lui... voix d'homme... voix d'ange...

— Le Fantôme de l'Opéra, Gaston Leroux

[wilsonsmcgillsweatshirt]

I'm just thinking about how David Shore and Hugh Laurie talked about Wilson and House's relationship as definitely romantic in their GQ interview.

David Shores said, "I love that we started the series with House and Wilson, and we ended it with House and Wilson. Ending with a non-traditional romantic story is atypical, and that exploration of male friendship is something you don’t see on TV very often. You see a lot of wingmen giving each other crap, and House most certainly did that. But, the idea of guys giving each other crap who loved each other was new."

This is the same interview that Hugh Laurie said, "Way before this idiot word “bromance” was coined—I wish people wouldn’t jam words together like that, there are enough words—I think it’s true that there was a great sort of weird romantic love between House and Wilson. I suppose that was the show’s central core relationship, and it was irresistible to me. I certainly did grow… I’d stop short of saying romantically involved with Robert Sean Leonard, but we became very close and enjoyed each other’s company. He made me laugh an indecent amount. I think the writers too enjoyed writing that relationship. Shore, in particular, had a real knack for it. There was a scene in which House has been suspended from the hospital, so he’s taken the role of the housewife in Wilson’s apartment. Wilson gets home one day, and House has got a basket of laundry, and he says something like, “Your shirts aren’t dry yet, but you’ve got plenty of underwear.” Shore changed the line to “We’ve got plenty of underwear,” in what I thought was one of the funniest rewrites you could possibly have in the smallest number of letters."

I genuinely take this as them saying that Hilson is canon.

(Interview is linked)