just thinking about your detective lover who unknowingly becomes your partner in crime. they're stressed on finding the infamous serial killer, frustrated with the lack of clue to go on, unaware that they were the one that let the said killer get away <3
the trash you told them to throw out? the murder weapon is neatly wrapped in there. whenever he's close to finding a lead? you're there massaging his tense shoulders, convincing him that maybe he's taking the wrong way. the killer somehow always two steps ahead? well, maybe he should think twice about revealing his plans to you.
and if you somehow managed to put the blame on an innocent civilian? well.. that's just a bonus.
-🌹
ILOVETHISSOMUCHHH (for some reason I thought of Will Graham)
𝐈𝐌𝐀𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐄....𝗒𝗈𝗎'𝗋𝖾 𝖺 𝖿𝖺𝗆𝗈𝗎𝗌 𝗌𝖾𝗋𝗂𝖺𝗅 𝗄𝗂𝗅𝗅𝖾𝗋, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝖾𝗍𝖾𝖼𝗍𝗂𝗏𝖾𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝗉𝗎𝗍 𝗈𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖼𝖺𝗌𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽𝗇'𝗍 𝖿𝗂𝗀𝗎𝗋𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗈𝗎𝗍- 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖽𝗂𝖽𝗇'𝗍 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝖺 𝗉𝖺𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗇, 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗄𝗂𝗅𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌 𝗌𝗍𝗒𝗅𝖾𝗌 𝖺𝗅𝗐𝖺𝗒𝗌 𝖽𝗂𝖿𝖿𝖾𝗋 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝖾𝖺𝖼𝗁 𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋, 𝗆𝖺𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗋𝖺𝖼𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝗆𝗎𝖼𝗁 𝗆𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗁𝖺𝗋𝖽𝖾𝗋—𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗐𝖺𝗌… 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝖿𝗎𝖼𝗄 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆, 𝗂𝗇 𝖻𝗈𝗍𝗁 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗄𝗂𝗅𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗅𝖾𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗅𝖾𝖿𝗍 𝖺𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗋𝗂𝗆𝖾 𝗌𝖼𝖾𝗇𝖾, 𝗍𝖺𝗎𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆, 𝗍𝖾𝗅𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆 𝗁𝗈𝗐 𝗆𝗎𝖼𝗁 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖾𝗇𝗃𝗈𝗒𝖾𝖽 𝗂𝗍, 𝗐𝗁𝗈 𝗐𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗀𝗈𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝖻𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗇𝖾𝗑𝗍 𝗏𝗂𝖼𝗍𝗂𝗆—𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝖼𝖺𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝖺𝗒? 𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾𝖽 𝗂𝗍, 𝗐𝖺𝗍𝖼𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝗂𝖿𝖾 𝖽𝗋𝖺𝗂𝗇 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗂𝗋 𝖾𝗒𝖾𝗌 𝖺𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖼𝗁𝗈𝗄𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆, 𝗐𝖺𝗍𝖼𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝗅𝗈𝗈𝖽 𝗀𝗎𝗌𝗁 𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖼𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖻𝗈𝖽𝗒, 𝗂𝗍 𝗐𝖺𝗌… 𝖾𝗑𝗁𝗂𝗅𝖺𝗋𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀… 𝖡𝗎𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗆𝖾𝗍 𝐇𝐈𝐌, 𝗀𝗈𝖽, 𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗉𝖾𝗋𝖿𝖾𝖼𝗍- 𝖺 𝖽𝖾𝗍𝖾𝖼𝗍𝗂𝗏𝖾 𝗍𝗈𝗈… 𝖿𝗎𝖼𝗄… 𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗌𝗈 𝖿𝗎𝖼𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗈𝗍 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖼𝗎𝗍𝖾, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖺𝖿𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝖽𝗈𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺 𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗍𝗅𝖾 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗅𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝖻𝗎𝗆𝗉𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝖾𝖺𝖼𝗁 𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋, 𝗆𝖾𝖾𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗍 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖿𝖺𝗏𝗈𝗋𝗂𝗍𝖾 𝗌𝗉𝗈𝗍𝗌—𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗌𝗈 𝗉𝗋𝖾𝖽𝗂𝖼𝗍𝖺𝖻𝗅𝖾, 𝗂𝗍 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗎𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀. 𝖠𝗇𝖽 𝖺𝖿𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗐𝗈 𝗒𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝗉𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝗐𝖺𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗍𝗐𝗈 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝗆𝗈𝗏𝖾𝖽 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗈𝗀𝖾𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋. 𝖮𝖿 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗋𝗌𝖾, 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗌𝗐𝖾𝖾𝗍 𝖽𝖺𝗋𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖽𝗈𝖾𝗌𝗇'𝗍 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇 𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗌𝖾 𝗌𝖺𝗆𝖾 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋𝗌, 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒 𝗌𝖺𝗆𝖾 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗐𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝗀𝗋𝗂𝗉 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗉𝗌 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗅𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖿𝗎𝖼𝗄 𝗁𝗂𝗆- 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗐𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝗐𝗋𝖺𝗉 𝖺𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝗋𝗈𝖺𝗍, 𝗌𝗊𝗎𝖾𝖾𝗓𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝖺𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗁𝖾𝗅𝖽 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝗂𝗇 𝗉𝗅𝖺𝖼𝖾 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗅𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖿𝗎𝖼𝗄𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗍𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗌 𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝗁𝗂𝗆- 𝗐𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗐𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝖼𝗁𝗈𝗄𝖾 𝗉𝖾𝗈𝗉𝗅𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝖽𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗁, 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝖼𝗁 𝗆𝖺𝗇𝗒 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝖽𝗂𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈, 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗐𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝗆𝖾𝗋𝖼𝗂𝗅𝖾𝗌𝗌𝗅𝗒 𝗆𝗎𝗋𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗉𝖾𝗈𝗉𝗅𝖾. 𝖧𝗈𝗐 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝗁𝖾 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐𝗇? 𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗌𝗈 𝗐𝖾𝗅𝗅 𝗁𝗂𝖽𝖽𝖾𝗇- 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇 𝗎𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝖺𝗌 𝖺 𝗉𝖺𝗐𝗇 𝗂𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗌𝖼𝖾𝗆𝖾𝗌, 𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗌𝗈 𝖿𝗎𝖼𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖼𝗎𝗍𝖾- 𝗍𝖾𝗅𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗁𝖾'𝗌 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝗇 𝖺 𝗆𝗎𝗋𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝖼𝖺𝗌𝖾, 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒 𝗆𝗎𝗋𝖽𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖼𝖺𝗎𝗌𝖾𝖽. 𝖧𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗁𝖾𝗅𝗉𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗂𝗆- 𝗀𝗂𝗏𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍, 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗌𝗍𝗋𝖾𝖾𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝖺𝗐𝖺𝗒 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝗋𝗎𝗍𝗁. 𝖧𝖾𝗅𝗅, 𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇 𝗀𝗂𝗏𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗈𝗇 𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍'𝗌 𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗉𝖾𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇- 𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝗂𝖽𝗇'𝗍 𝗌𝖾𝖾 𝗁𝖺𝗋𝗆 𝗂𝗇 𝗂𝗍, 𝗍𝖾𝗅𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝖺 𝖿𝖾𝗐 𝖽𝖾𝗍𝖺𝗂𝗅𝗌. 𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗌𝗈 𝗌𝗐𝖾𝖾𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝗁𝗂𝗆! 𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽𝗇'𝗍 𝗉𝗈𝗌𝗌𝗂𝖻𝗅𝗒 𝖻𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗄𝗂𝗅𝗅𝖾𝗋… 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽𝗇'𝗍… 𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗒 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗌 𝗐𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝗋𝗎𝖻 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽𝖾𝗋𝗌, 𝗆𝖺𝗌𝗌𝖺𝗀𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗍𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗌 𝖺𝗐𝖺𝗒 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗅𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖼𝗈𝗈 𝖺𝖻𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗁𝗈𝗐 𝗀𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗍 𝗁𝖾 𝗂𝗌, 𝗁𝗈𝗐 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝗁𝖾 𝗂𝗌, 𝗁𝗈𝗐 𝗐𝖾𝗅𝗅 𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝖽𝗈𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈𝖽𝖺𝗒- 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍… 𝗉𝗋𝖺𝗂𝗌𝖾 𝗎𝗉𝗈𝗇 𝗉𝗋𝖺𝗂𝗌𝖾- 𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗐𝗋𝖺𝗉𝗉𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋… 𝗂𝗇 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗌𝖾𝗇𝗌𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝖽. 𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗌𝗈 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝗌𝗈 𝖼𝖺𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀- 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗄𝗂𝗅𝗅𝖾𝗋 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗋𝗎𝗍𝗁𝗅𝖾𝗌𝗌, 𝗆𝖾𝗋𝖼𝗂𝗅𝖾𝗌𝗌, 𝖼𝗈𝗅𝖽 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗍𝗅𝖾𝗌𝗌… 𝗁𝗈𝗐 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝗈𝗌𝗌𝗂𝖻𝗅𝗒 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗄 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗂𝗍 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎?
𝐨𝐡… 𝐢𝐟 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭…
