#cop criminal

[tziporarosen]

FLIP A COIN

CHAPTER II

Smacking your hand over your phone, you drag it towards you with your eyes closed before opening one eye to switch off the alarm ringing through your ear drums. Your eyes do a double take as you catch a glimpse of the time, shooting you straight into immediate panic as you jump out of bed, quickly tossing on a t-shirt that is laid out at the foot of your bed. “Fuck, fuck, fuck” you mumble to yourself as you pull your hair into a high ponytail, quickly wiping the mascara off your under-eyes. Zipping up your pants, you run over to your kitchen, grabbing your belt along with your radio and weapon, snapping them into place as you open the front door, only to speed back into the bedroom to grab your forgotten phone. 

Walking into the office felt like a scene out of a movie, eyes gawking at you from every direction as you walked in, the other officers creating a path for you. What the fuck? Smiling in confusion and discomfort, you make your way to your glass office, your sergeant and watch commander standing with their arms crossed, waiting for you to shut the door behind you. 

“So sorry, I overslept, Sir” you apologize awkwardly as you take your leather jacket off. 

“You being late isn't why we are here” your watch commander stated sternly, his eyes panned in disappointment. Double what the fuck? 

“Oh- whats, uh, what's going on?” you inquire with a broken voice, your senses rising to a hundred. You swallowed down, hard, as your sergeant walked to the glass cabinet at the side of your desk, scanning your framed awards and trophies for the work you've done. 

“I thought giving you this case would be simple, a quick case opened and closed, but no.” he insinuated flatly, his back turned to you as his arms rested on his lower back. 

“Sir, I'm so close, it's been a little harder than expected” you admit in defense, completely confused by the tension sitting in your chair, admiring the scene as you fall apart in anxiety. 

“At what cost?” your watch commander chipped in, his eyes trained on your tired face, your eyes dark from insomnia. 

“What? Sir I’m confused by what's going-” 

“When was the last time you spoke to Officer Lanes?” he interrogated calmly as the sergeant rounded his way back to you, standing side by side with your watch commander. 

“Last night? Why? Is something wrong?” you asked with concern slipping through, your gut telling you there's something they're not telling you, something is terribly wrong. You can feel it.

“Nothing is wrong, Officer Lanes is perfectly okay, but you not so much” the sergeant joined back in, watching you like a hawk. 

You tilt your head back, taken aback by how they're jumping around what's wrong, speaking in riddles, almost as if they're waiting for you to spill. Confess. “Am I in trouble for something?” you interrogate in response, unwilling to jump around in circles and waste more time, or worse, incriminate yourself. You knew exactly what their ‘innocent’ questions meant, they think you've done something, you know that because it's what you do all day, it's your job. 

Your watch commander exhales harshly before he throws a glance to the sergeant before he nodded at him, allowing the watch commander to explain. “We wanted to hear what you have to say before we do this, we trust you, and frankly we're both very disappointed in you” he expressed as you spiraled, your heart in your mind beating in echoes, muffling his words as he continued. “Officer Lanes came to us this morning, told us about last night, how you've been inappropriate to her, harassing her after work, showing up to her place and even persuading her into.. Uh, sleeping with you” he finished, the last part falling in a croak at how uncomfortable he was by having to be the one to say it out loud. 

You couldn't help but burst into a loud chuckle of disbelief, completely nonplussed by the things you were hearing. “Do you think this is funny, detective?” the sergeant spoke up, his tone searching for amusement. Goosebumps spread over your skin, realizing this is real, you're being accused of abusing your inferior. Fuck. You couldn't feel your pulse, you felt as if you're floating into space, your mind and body numb from the shit you've dug yourself in. She's the victim, and you're the predator. 

“I- that's not true.. She wanted it to-” you gulp the remainder of your sentence down with your courage as you look at their faces, knowing you've just made it worse. You just shot yourself in the foot, and there's no way out. 

“I'm going to need your gun and badge, I am hereby placing you under administrative leave effective immediately. You are not to leave town, you are not to act as detective or any form of enforcement in any capacity, including court. We will let you know of any changes once the investigation is no longer pending” the watch commander asserted as he opened his arm to take your gun as you paused for a moment. “Detective,” he warned gently. 

“Sorry” you mumbled as you took the badge off your belt, passing it to him with your eyes pinned to the badge in his palm, your hands trembling as you processed what had just happened. “What now?” you whispered, your eyes blurring ever so slightly as you glanced up at them both. 

“You go home, think over your defense” your commander advised, a faint crack in his voice seeping under his stoicism, confirming to you it wasn’t a decision either of them wanted. Clenching your jaw to hold the tears desperate to escape, you nod in understanding as your chin tremors. 

A stillness that can only be described as a frozen moment in time takes over before they separate from one another, creating an opening for you to exit your office. Swallowing your pride, you step out in silence, the whispers dancing around you as they gaze at the consequence of negligence and emotions. You expected to feel angry, but all you felt was betrayal, not only by her, but by yourself as well, allowing yourself to end up in this position. Now you've lost it all, in a flash of a second, you've lost your career, your dream, and Sevika. 

Your feet formed a mind of their own as you walked to your car, your head ringing profusely as the heel of your foot hit the concrete beneath you with every footstep. You had no idea what's next. Leaning on the little voice in your head, you drove down to the little bar hiding a block away, welcoming all the walking dead men and women, every degenerate and drunk, keeping eachother company. 

Locking the door behind you, you take a deep breath before pulling the door open, walking into the somber bar and sitting down in the corner, away from any form of life. “I'll have a Johnnie, neat. Please” you murmur as you rest your head on your palm, your elbows keeping you up. 

“Tough day at the office?” the bar man inquired as he poured your whiskey glass, sliding it over to you as he walked up to you. 

“You could say that” you replied with an audible scoff, still in disbelief at the turn of events. 

“You stuck on a case?” he suggested as he turned his back to you, placing clean glasses on the shelf, preparing for the afternoon rush while it was quiet. You furrow your brows as you look up at him, taken aback by his knowledge of you being a cop. 

“How did you-?”

“It's obvious you're a cop, jeans with a t-shirt and a leather jacket? Seriously? You couldn't be a more stereotypical cop.” he pointed out as he turned back around to face you, one brow raised as he scanned your attire. 

You let out a little chuckle as you down your drink, amused by his judgemental analysis. “You should be a detective yourself, Mr Sherlock” you rebuke playfully as you slide your glass back to him, indicating for a second pour. 

“I should, shouldn't I?” he remarked with a warm little laugh of his own, pouring your glass before he pulled his attention to the man at the other side of the bar calling him over. You grab your second glass, allowing the whiskey to burn its way down your throat, getting rid of the lump hidden in it. You let your head back down to the bar as your arms shield your face, your foot tapping against the bar rod along with the slow beat of the music playing in the background. An oncoming shuffle of a person approaches before they sit down beside you, their leg slightly brushing against yours as you shift back slightly, not bothered to pay any attention to their presence. 

“Do you usually start drinking at 11 AM?” your heart falls to your gut at the voice, the owner of it being only one possible person, and here they are, delivering themselves to you. In reflex, you slide your hand to your gun holster as you lift your head, only to be met with her brow raised, amusement lingering in her stone eyes. “Tsk, they took your gun, remember?” she taunted as she slid her jacket slightly, revealing the pistol in her holster. “They didn't take mine. stay” she asserted, her tone flat, almost as if she's bored, routined. 

“W-what? What are you doing here?” you ask as you lower your leg to the ground, preparing yourself for an easy escape. Her words were so contradictive with how calm she was, there were no nerves in her, she was confident. Her arms looked as though she didn't need her gun to kill you, a simple wrap around them and she'd crush you, her build was hunched over the thin bar stool, her shoulders leaned forward as she relaxed. 

“Do you usually stutter when you investigate someone?” she pondered, her eyes now turned to her glass as she raised it before pinning her attention back to you. “Cheers?” she offered, a thin smile forming for the first time since you met. 

“Cheers? To what?” you questioned cautiously, your body frozen at a loss of escape, or defense for that matter, and her aura was making you extremely unnerved. 

“To freedom” Sevika answered, her features sharp as she waited for you to obey. 

For some reason, her words, mixed in with the smug grin plastered on her beautiful face pulled a rage only the fool would act on, and it looked like you were a fool, with a death wish. You didn't have a weapon, but you had a fair amount of skill, not enough to beat her, but enough to let your adrenaline convince you that you can. Lifting your glass to feign a cheer, you pull the most convincing smile you can muster as you watch her cling her glass against yours. Catching your opportunity, you shift your arm forward and smash the glass onto her head, causing her to grunt heavily as she loses her posture, giving you just enough time to gain a head start. 

The lungs in your chest clamped together, ready to keep you afloat for this escape, hoping to put those running skills to good use. Slamming the bar door open, you let your feet take charge, running as fast as you can, each breath counting down as you made it further and further. You didn't dare look back, knowing if you do, it'll be a lost cause, it always is. All you knew was that she was behind you, you could see her shadow against the hot day, the sun reflecting on the pavement. She was getting closer. You strategize as you keep going, scanning for the best route to take, knowing the area like the back of your hand finally came useful, pointing you to the perfect alleyway. 

Sudden silence takes over, her shadow disappearing like a faded imagination, leaving you to lower your guard, slowing down as your run shifts into a jog as you enter the alley way. You find a wall to lean on, using it as a reinforcement to catch your lost breath, your chest heaving as you shut your eyes. 

You open your eyes back slowly before they go wide as you stand before her, her body shading you from the sun as she stood there and watched you, her breath far more recollected than yours. “I win” 

You let out a little shriek as you jump up slightly, comepletey taken aback by her presence. How did she beat you here? 

“We're quite alike if you really think about it. You know every creek and corner of every street, so does someone like me. You know how to operate a weapon, so do I. And best of all, you know how to lie and convince anyone to do whatever you want them to, and guess what? So do I. So tell me detective, what makes you so different from me?” she interrogated, her words clear and distinct as she scanned every shift in your pupils. Your stomach was in circles at how nervous and scared you were, there was no way out now. You knew you'd either leave here in a stretcher, or in a body bag. She didn't have her physique for show, she was strong and you could tell, her forearms showed her weight capacities, her legs looked like she could suffocate you with them in no effort. You needed a plan B, maybe it was time to stand up for yourself, hoping that will throw her off. 

“I dont kill for my own benefit” you spit as you take a step forward, not ready to let her win just yet, you can’t let her scare you. 

“Oh, you're a brave one aren't you?” Sevika cooed as she took the challenge, stepping forward as well, your chest ghosting on her shirt. 

“It's not bravery, I would need to be scared to be brave, and you don’t scare me” you lie, hoping your locked jaw will convince her otherwise. With your heart on pause, you watch time slow into a still quietude as she glared down at you, attempting to figure out your game, because you both knew this was a dangerous game. You couldn't tell if she was plotting or simply waiting for you to fold, but the tension was quickly melting you to speak up. “I deal with dirt like you everyday, you'll have to do a little more than that to make me scared of you” you scorned. 

A little smirk grows on her dark lips, taken aback by your words. “Okay detective, let me see you catch me without the security of a gun and badge, you think you can do that?” Sevika jibed as she lifted the leather hook over her pistol. Grabbing her gun, you back up immediately, only to watch her lower it to the ground, her eyes not leaving yours for an instant. 

Fuck.

You watched her stand back up before tossing the gun back a little more with her foot as she crossed her arms over her chest, waiting for your response. Both of you knew sevika would win, there was no question about it. You had your skills of course, but without your badge and gun, you were at a severe disadvantage. It was a game you couldn't win, and deep down, you knew it.

“Show me what you got princess”

[filmholicrose]

Hey so this is very niche but ima give it a try anyway! So I have seen the movie Strange Darling few days ago and i can not for the life of me get it out of my head and i was wondering if someone would like to write something inspired by it? Smutty Cop/killer thriller! With me in the female role. In exchange I'm down to write anything for you! Fandomless or another niche movie i can watch and study!

[monsterqueers]

Hey if people are thinking of 'stockpiling HRT' and you are doing it with Testosterone, be aware that is a controlled substance and doing this WILL GET YOU A FELONY CHARGE IF YOU ARE CAUGHT (and it would be very easy for this to happen through the way those posts reccomend).

Its your decision if you want to risk imprisonment (and then definitely losing hrt access), but be aware of the serious consequences- especially if you are recommending this to people!

If you do this with E, you get a slap on the wrist. If you do this with T its a felony. A felony charge deeply effects everything you do. Its not just hard to DYI T, its MANY TIMES LEGALLY RISKIER AND HARDER.

[ikiprian]

Ghost Kitchen (brought to you by criminal entrepreneur, Red Hood)

Danny’s got the easiest job in Gotham.

He works as a fry cook at a shoddily-run, independent burger joint. Hardly anyone comes in, despite prices being criminally low, and portions insanely large, and while the manager looks like the average tough-as-nails ex-con, he lets Danny mess around in the kitchen whenever the place is empty. (Which is often. This place has to be the city’s hidden gem or something!)

Mr. Manager’s the only one ever there with Danny, except for sometimes when his buddies come over to smoke and play cards. Danny would find it shady, except part of his job is not to ask questions. Literally, he was told during the interview.

(It was a weird interview. Why would they need to hire someone who’s been in a gunfight before? Like, he has, but Gotham’s idea of “hirable qualities” is so bizarre.)

So instead he whips up some killer burgers with the frozen ingredients, and basks in the praise as the guys tell him he shouldn’t have, he does too much for this joint, ain’t that friendly!

Now, Danny’s a chef on the newer side. As a teen he’d preferred the look of Nasty Burger over anything with Michelin stars, and he only really took up cooking after Jazz moved out for college. But just like ecto-exposure used to turn the groceries sentient, Danny’s low-level ecto signature imbues all his food with something historically haunted Gothamites just love! And Danny’s never been one to half-ass a job when it makes people happy.

With fresher produce, real meat, Danny’s sure he can take his dishes to the next level. It takes a couple months of badgering, but his manager finally agrees to contact the mysterious store owner, who keeps the place going, despite profits Danny knows have to be in the red.

Danny spends the morning prepping. He pours his heart into his food, eager to impress. The big boss will be here soon, and he wants to prove that despite the dangerous location, this place has real potential!

It isn’t until the Red Hood shows up that Danny realizes he’s been working for a money laundering scheme.

[fullfriendnerdclutch]

Archive: Rent-a-Cop Part 1 - 3

"It’s supposed to do what…? …Are you serious Captain?” Officer Grant Johnson sighed looking at his commanding officer with incredulity.

“Johnson, remember you volunteered for this. Now if the professor’s machine works like he says it does, its value to the force will be immeasurable," The Captain typed in some more information onto the panel, going back and forth between some hand-written instructions, furrowing his brow.

“Fine… So you scanned me in or whatever, now what?”

“Just a minute! I need to finish calibrating the damn thing or God knows what it’ll do to you!” Johnson rolled his eyes but nodded, running his hand through his salt and pepper hair impatiently.

“Okay okay… Just remember we do well enough without some freaky gizmo though. I’ve put away some of the baddest guys in this city in my day…” Officer Johnson patted his gut with a chuckle. “…I suppose I have been getting a bit soft though,"

“Well why don’t we see what we can do about that?" The Captain lifted what looked to be a simple wireless microphone.

“Load profile: Grant Johnson.” The machine behind them made a small noise, Officer Johnson looked to it then the Captain and shrugged.

“Reduce age by half, increase muscle mass 300%, and reduce body fat ratio by 80%—”

The Captain cut off and gaped at the sudden change in his subordinate. Gone was the weary looking Officer with the pot-belly looking forward to an ever closer retirement. In his place was a mountain of a man, who looked half bodybuilder/half cop. Johnson just stared at the Captain.

“…What? How long do we wait?”

“What do you mean what? You’re huge!”

Officer Johnson narrowed his eyes at the Captain then looked to his arm, pulling back the sleeve and flexing his massive biceps; it must have been around 24 inches.

"It doesn’t look any bigger… definitely not 200% bigger. And what was with the command to halve my age? You trying to send me back to highschool?” He chuckled a deep, rich, masculine laugh.

The Captain stammered a moment before looking back to the hand-written notes, thumbing through them before speaking into the small microphone again.

“Recall self prior to last command," that did it. Grant yelped, looking back to his arm, giving it a small poke then looking back to the Captain. 

“Holy shit! Captain! Look at me! I can’t believe it! That machine is nuts!” The Captain frowned lightly but nodded.

“Yes, yes. The possibilities are endless, but we’ll need to make sure we note any Officer’s previous self to their changed self… I think we’ll just keep this to ourselves until we can learn a bit more about it.”

“Aww– Fine… Too bad though, with this thing I’d be right back in the swing of it. All those bastards I’ve spent my career taking down would just be the beginning; I could be back on the beat full time.”

“Well, we’ll see. For now lets get you back to normal, lock this place up and head back upstairs. Don’t want anyone in the precinct getting nosy down here…”

-

The captain returned Officer Johnson to normal then the pair left; all without taking note of the surveillance camera silently blinking above their heads. 

In the security room, rookie cop Noah Bartlett stared at the camera footage. He’d been benched and given desk duty after none other than Officer Grant Johnson had accused him of being on the take… 

Nevermind the fact that he was, afterall there were several local crime bosses who paid good money for any tip or advantage they could get against the cops….

An idea slowly formed in Noah’s mind as he looked to the wall at the master security keyring and a smile grew on his face… He wondered how much they would pay for a chance to rent that machine and use it on Officer Oh-So-Perfect Johnson…

--

"You understand, Captain Diaz?"

The older cop replied in a dull monotone "Yes,"

"Yes....what?" the rookie replied, smirking vindictively

"Yes Master Noah,"

"Good," he pulled the machine's microphone close to his mouth and read off a little notecard he had prepared

"Captain Diaz won't consciously remember the events of the last 10 minutes or so. Captain Diaz will return to his office, wait one hour then call Officer Johnson in, and then follow the previously given instructions,"

With that, the Captain wordlessly walked out, while Officer Bartlett quickly reset the room to how it was, before hurrying back to his desk in the security room.

Rico Antonetti was one of the mid to upper level mob figures in the city and he and Officer Noah Bartlett had worked out a few arrangements before getting caught by one oh-so-squeaky-clean Officer Grant Johnson.

Noah had reached out to the mobster and informed him of the department's prototype machine. Rico was skeptical so the two worked out an appropriate demonstration.....

Precisely one hour later, Noah looked up to see Officer Grant Johnson on one of his monitors, step into the Captain's office and take a seat

"Listen Johnson, we've got a tip off about some new little bordello Antonetti has setup downtown. It might be bogus, but I need you to go in and investigate,"

"Sure Cap, let me get a team together and we'll be able to hit the place by tomorrow nig---"

"NO! Er......no, that will be too late, these places move around and we don't know how many ears Rico has in the department. If we want to hit him while this info is good, we need to do it tonight and I need you to go by yourself,"

"Uhh....that sounds more than a little bit risky, don't you think, Captain?"

"Yes, or at least it would be, if we didn't have our department's new toy," the Captain said sternly

"Oh....yeah, I guess so then. If you think it's that serious...."

"I do, let's get you prep," quickly replied the Captain as he stood up from his seat and opened the door briskly

Noah almost giggled with glee as he watched the two depart the Captain's office and head to the storeroom where the Professor had dropped off the machine. Everything was going according to script so far

"Alright Johnson, you ready?" The Captain picked up the wireless mic, flipping the machine on

"Yes Sir," Grant smiled, giving his somewhat rotund belly a gentle pat goodbye

"Load Profile: Grant Johnson." once more the machine whirred to life, humming softly and awaiting input. "Subject will recall self following this set of commands: Reduce age by 60%, increase muscle mass by 200%....."

The Captain's voice and face then seemed to go a bit slack and he took the microphone and opened the door to exit the room

"Err...everything alright, boss?"

"Yes, wait there, I need to check something,"

Captain Diaz quietly made his way down the hall to the security room, he opened the door where Officer Bartlett sat grinning

"Welcome Cap, I'll take that," he reached out, grabbing the mic and looking back to the video feed of the new, younger, buffer Officer Grant Johnson sitting patiently

"Subject will not recall self following this new set of commands. Change sexuality to homosexual. Increase libido by 300%. Reduce work ethic by 75%. Add behaviors: narcissism, arrogance, exhibitionism, bullying, domineering, perversion, and of course, corruption," Noah watched as the posture and attitude of Officer Johnson shifted. The man in the monitor crudely rubbed his genitals through his uniform pants and impatiently checked his wristwatch before noting the mirrored window in the room and stepping up to flex in front of it

"Perfect, now reduce subject employment standing to rookie, erase all experience of previous service and update it to 3 months," the stripes on Grant's uniform vanished, "Subject will continue flexing in the storeroom until Captain Diaz returns," there was no change in the cocky behavior on the monitor, but Noah knew Grant would stay like that as long as needed now

"Load profile: Carlos Diaz. Subject will believe that Officer Grant Johnson has always been as he is now and has not been changed by the machine. Subject will load in each member of the department's profiles overnight tonight and make the same changes to their recollection as well. Subject will not consciously remember the events of the last hour and will return to scold Officer Johson for being where he shouldn't be, then send him out,"

Captain Diaz silently left the security room and Officer Bartlett returned to his monitor. He watched smiling as the Captain entered the storeroom and clearly yelled something at the now rookie Grant Johnson. Officer Johnson replied by gripping his own groin and flipping the Captain off as he left.

"Now then, tonight should go on as planned,"

--

Grant drove down the street slowly. It was dark and while he may not have given a shit about what he was doing, he was still a cop. He saw the kid on the corner signal to someone as soon as he showed up. But that was fine, let 'em get their shit out of there, it would be less work on his part.

He parked a couple houses down from the address his tightass Captain had given him for this supposed brothel and slowly approached. From the front it looked like any other kind of shared housing in one of the city's projects

He eyed the door, strangely it was left ajar. He carefully slipped inside, having to squeeze his muscular form through rather tightly so as not to risk moving the door any further

The first floor was dark but as he peered up the stairs, he saw the second level was well lit......if anything's going down, it's up there

He thought he moved quite silently but in reality he was rushing and the house creaked under his weight with each step. When he reached the top, he saw a hallway full of closed doors, save one left half open with light pouring out of it

He crept towards it, growing annoyed at what a waste of time this was turning out to be. He paused by the door when he heard a young man speaking on the phone

"Yeah....yeah he's comin' so I called like you told me to....yeah, you're sure about this?.....Naw naw, I'm good for it.... Alright, alright, then do whatever it is you're gonna do, I'll let you know,"

The young man hung up the phone, Grant furrowed his brow at what he'd heard.....it sounded like something might actually about to go down....Looks like showtime. He stepped forward, kicking the door open and entering the room with his gun drawn

"DON'T MOVE!" yelled Grant with his deep baritone voice with that hint of coarseness from his smoking habit

The room looked like a simple one bedroom unit, hardly the sex den he was expecting. On the bed seated a rather handsome college-aged jock, he had his arms raised and was watching the police officer, but he didn't seem startled. Grant frowned and looked around the room before stepping to the man and patting him down; finding no weapon, he put away his firearm.

"We got a tipoff about prostitutes working out of this address to supply the mob. You know anything about that?"

The young jock paused for a moment looking at Grant just long enough to begin annoying him, before finally answering tentatively

"Of course Officer.....that's what I'm doing here," Grant just stared a moment......did this little twunk just admit to being a whore?

"You're a hooker?"

Sensing Grant's confusion, the young man smiled and nodded. He stood and approached the cop

"Yeah.....Rico said I was your favorite after last time, so it was my job to......cover your protection fee...." the jock's hands were a bit rough but his puppy eyes really caught his attention and radiate this submissiveness Grant cannot resist. He softly stroked Grant's chest and stomach, causing the ripped Officer to moan and shudder in delight

"Oh...oh yeah, now I remember you," Grant's stated with more conviction, his memories betrayed him as it created false imagery of the time he's sitting in the mob-run nightclub with all the male strippers dancing to tease him

The rather handsome hooker simply smiled impishly, his hand caressing lower, which caused Grant to growl in beastly burst of lust, pushing the young man back onto the bed

-

An hour or so later, Grant called in to Captain Diaz, the tip had been bullshit it seemed. The Captain was pissed but Grant didn't care. Meanwhile, Officer Bartlett popped open a bottle of wine when he received a call from one very convinced and very interested crime boss....

-------

Check out my spin-off from this beloved series originally made by coyote-r

More to come later this week

[teaboot]

you are so weirdly dedicated to making flowery sympathy posts for demographics such as "masculine men" and "cops and security officers who stop people from shoplifting". have you noticed that?

You must be new

[doomdoomofdoom]

With the ongoing investigation into the CEO Killer, it's interesting to see how little people know about police investigations. Which is funny, because most of that stems from Copaganda and is now kinda biting the cops in the ass.

Semi-Educated rambles about copaganda and real procedures below the cut

I say semi-educated because I am writing a thesis paper on copaganda, but much more about the brutality aspects and not the crime solving ones. I did write a much less intense paper on that almost ten years ago, and presumably some things have changed. Take my "expertise" with a grain of salt.

The Copaganda Thing

Copaganda (Cop Propaganda) is basically what the name suggests. Anything that makes police look good. Social media posts about community outreach, the adorable little K-9 units, kneeling next to a protestor that you brutalize after the camera turns off. But the massive elephant in the room here are Cop Shows. There are literally too many for me to name. NCIS, Blue Bloods, True Detective, any of those weird "live" police shows, and yes, Brooklyn 99, too. These shows (often produced in cooperation with the police btw) serve to humanize cops and portray them as good, honest people, who maybe have to cross the line sometimes but it's always for a good reason and they're always right and save the day! The other half of it is vastly misrepresenting how (and if) crimes get solved.

Reality

Ripping this band-aid off first: Police are dogshit at solving crimes. There are aspects technically outside their control, like that only about half of all crimes (excluding murder) actually get reported to the police. (Based on comparing the 'Uniform Crime Reports' and the 'National Criminal Victimization Survey') But this also means that the Police Clearance rates are only half of what they calculate. Numbers get further skewed by not accounting for a lot of online crimes because the system hasn't caught up with like, the 90s. Anyway, for reported crimes, investigations will lead to an arrest in about 20-25% of cases. Three out of Four cases die without ever apprehending a suspect. (While there are ways to deal with a case without an arrest, ask yourself if you think that's likely in a system that measures success by arrest numbers) Conviction rates (which vary massively depending on crime) even out to about 4%, or 2% of total known crimes. (x) Worth noting: Generally, violent crimes have higher clearance and conviction rates. For murder, the conviction rate is around 60% while larceny-theft can dip below 1% of reported crimes. (It's generally assumed that the number of known and reported murders is the same, as the NCVS doesn't track it. Because murder victims are bad at filling out surveys.) To recap: Police solve about 4% of crimes reported to them. Meanwhile in your average cop show, you've got a success rate of about 100%. That's a stark difference, even if you take only murder rates of 60%. If you're an average citizen who's the victim of a crime, the most helpful thing the cops will do is file a report you can submit to your insurance.

Forensics & Procedures

I've seen these float around a bit and it's mildly ridiculous. Supposedly they've found a bottle and a protein bar of our killer and will be testing fingerprints and DNA. If those worked flawlessly, they still would only bring up results if the killer has been detained before. Databases of random civilian fingerprints/DNA samples are not kept by law enforcement. These analyses only work by having a point of comparison (and even then fingerprint analysis remains subjective), so they won't actually help finding the culprit, but they would be relevant to confirm the identity of an apprehended suspect and as evidence in an eventual trial. (There is also something called familial DNA which would work if they had a couple of relatives in the system, but that's both a flawed and incredibly time intensive approach. We're talking months of drawing family trees.) Also your average DNA test takes like 24 hours and fingerprint analysis is algorithmically supported now, but still mostly done manually. And both require a clear sample, so good luck with that. Fingerprint might as well be the clerk who sold the bottle. There's an infamous case of a serial killer whose DNA kept being found on crime scenes all Central Europe with no connection to each other. Turned out the Swabs were contaminated during production. There was no serial killer. Quickfire round of unrelated notes: 1) Lie detectors don't detect lies, they detect stress, anyone can trick one with some practice. the guy who popularized their use thought they could detect stress in plants too and that the plants could read his mind. 2) We're not actually sure if all fingerprints are completely unique. 3) Bite mark analysis is a pseudoscience that needs to be removed from criminal and legal proceedings asap. 4) Any algorithmic detections inherit the flaws of their human predecessors. Those are their training data. (That's also how they keep turning up racist)

And as a final note, it's common for the police to not share details on their ongoing investigations. That's just common sense. The only details that get released to the public are ones that could lead to direct hints or vague ones if there's a lot of public attention, to assure everyone there is progress. For similar reasons, while everyone and their grandma has put together the motive from the bullet casings, cops can't actually go out and confirm that. It's like how Bulbapedia has to say Flamigo appears to be based on a flamingo. Contrary to the cops, Bulbapedia does not have to carefully watch what data they release that might elicit more sympathy for Flamigo.

Why tho

So after literal decades of copaganda brainwashing, the public perception of crime and punishment is heavily skewed. We've been told over and over that cops can catch any criminal in a matter of a 60 minute episode, max. And that's by design. Aside from the image polishing, copaganda is a deterrent. If you're convinced you'll be caught after committing a crime, you wouldn't commit it, right? You don't wanna go to jail. And the bad guys always get what they deserve on TV, no matter how smart they are. You're not gonna risk that, are you?

That's why we keep using lie detectors, that's why the news are full of arrests being made constantly, that's why cop shows get so much support from the police. That's also why we keep pouring money into policing. Part of it, at least. We've built a police force that isn't about solving crimes. If that was priority, we'd invest more into forensics and labs to keep up with the demand of samples that need to be analyzed. Instead, we built a police force that gets new tech gadgets and military gear. It's an arms race against the general public that isn't even running. We take cops and we give them paranoia, weapons, justifications for violence, and targets to brutalize. I don't have to remind you of the riot gear and responses to peaceful protests. The police isn't your friend and helper. You must fear them. Fear their superior intellect, fear their crime solving abilities, fear the high tech arsenal at their disposal. Fear them so much, you won't even think of doing a crime unless you're rotten to the core. And if someone's rotten to the core, then surely the violence is justified.

But that's also why this guy in particular is so dangerous. They've built up this image of being near infallible (to anyone who never actually interacted with police proceedings, at least) and being able to stop any threat, catch any criminal. And yet, this guy shot someone in broad daylight, in the juristiction of the country's largest police department, and he's currently getting away with it.

[arthur-lesters-right-arm]

Relistening to season 4 Malevolent and If Arthur fumbles one more bad bitch I swear I'm gonna LOSE IT

[taffywabbit]

I keep forgetting to post this kinda kickass lego pic I did as a comm for a relative last year. pretty different from my usual schtick but I'm still super proud of it!

[theunholyvirginemilyprentiss]

These two mfs change their haircut more than some bitches change their underwear:

Maybe it’s like a spin on a drinking game. “Take a shot every time you get shot, kidnapped, tortured, or punched in the face,” except instead of a tequila it’s just scissors and hair dye.

[politijohn]

Source

[charlesoberonn]

When you're so much of a bootlicker you even lie about licking the boots of a made up video game police

[gurugirl]

The Forbidden (Completed Series)

stepbrother!harry - in which Harry and you meet six months before your parents are married and there’s immediate sexual tension that neither of you have the power to resist but things are tricky and quite messy

Mint Chocolate Chip (Completed Series)

in which the attractive older man that frequents the ice cream shop you work at has been making dark plans for you and when he finally gets you where he wants you, you’re easier to break than he imagined - dark!Harry content

The Con Artist (Completed Series)

detective!harry x criminal!reader

You're a wanted criminal and when Harry Styles, the detective on the case, finally catches up to you he finds it difficult to resist your charms.

Forgive Me, Father (Completed Series)

soft dom priest!harry x subby!reader

Harry is a priest with a dark secret but he's got a big heart and he's looking for someone special to share it with. When Y/n confesses her sins, he thinks she might just be the one.

The Arrangement (Completed Series)

sugardaddy dom!harry x subby!reader

Based on this request - Harry's wife proposes that he find a mistress to meet his needs in the bedroom as she is no longer willing. His wife has 2 rules: The first is that he finds a professional, and the second is that no feelings are to be involved. But both of those rules are thrown out the window when he meets Y/n.

A Good Boy (Completed Series)

stepson!harry x stepmom!reader (both adults)

Harry's got the hots for his young stepmom and she's pretty fond of him too.But they're both trying really hard to be good.Loosely based on this ask.

A Balancing Act (Completed Series)

this fic is commissioned by @cinnamonone (thank you!! xoxo): Y/n is a successful artist with a good head on her shoulders and Harry is a famous popstar in therapy. Navigating a relationship with someone as famous and adored as Harry isn't an easy task but Harry is desperate to make it work once and for all. famous!harry x plus size!reader

Just For Tonight (Completed Series)

this fic is anon commissioned (thank you!! xoxo): Harry spots an angel in the crowd and he can't keep his eyes off of her. And, as if by some cosmic pull, he can't help but ask her backstage. But it's only going to be just for tonight. Or is it? famous!harry x reader

The Unicorn (Completed Series)

Based on this & this. 3 part very mini-series. You nanny for the Styles, but Harry and his wife would like to offer you another position. Everyone gets more than they bargained for. dad!harry x nanny!reader

Can We Start Over ? (Completed Series)

this 5 part series is commissioned by @justfattiethings (thank you!! xoxo): From the first day you and Harry meet, your relationship is beyond complicated. A one night stand leads to hurt feelings and then a job opportunity that you simply can't pass up is offered. But can you handle working for a man like him? enemies to lovers

Ex-Boyfriend's Dad!Harry (completed)

Harry's your ex-boyfriend's hot dad. But it gets more complicated than just that.

[ithinkdogshouldvote]

Line up for the dnd game I'm in currently (I play the Goliath. Her ass does NOT know she's in an evil campaign 💀💀💀)

[isagrimorie]

Criminal Minds Evolution 17x05 - Kingdom of the Blind

Prentiss and Rossi conspire to assassinate Voit.

[newyorkthegoldenage]

One gangster lies dead next to a bullet-ridden car after a battle between police and a gang in August 1931. The police chased the hoodlums for five miles and the fight resulted in 6 being killed and several injured among innocent bystanders. This followed on President Hoover’s appeal to police chiefs to quell the gangster peril in principal American cities.

Photo: Associated Press