That’s an oxymoron-
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The Walten kiddos + Jenny and Ashley
Flash Fiction Friday: Ruined and Destroyed
WIP: The Curse of Hyetal #1: The Lost Empire
POV: Seward J. Dean
Possible warnings: burned bodies, bomb mention
Eyyy this was fun!! My first Flash Fiction Friday y'all!! And it's not from Dedrick or Rose's point of view! Kind of because if I DID use their point of view my only option is.........spoilers
The Bax Cola Explosion
The abandoned Bax Cola factory has exploded, and Seward is in charge of the investigation. What he finds turns a tragedy into a vendetta.
“I didn’t know this place was here.”
The Bax Cola factory closed twenty years ago when some soda company in Ikkezar bought out the company and moved all its production to the Kingdoms. Officer Beltran sat in the passenger seat next to Seward, staring in awe at the burned husk of a factory.
Seward mumbled some nonspecific “Neither did I” lie as he navigated his truck through the thick crowd of reporters and nosy onlookers. With any luck, one would get run over and finally leave their investigations alone.
Reporters swarmed the Enforcement officers as they climbed out of the truck. Namely, they swarmed Seward. He was Reigner Langley’s right hand. Seward basically did his job for him.
“Who do you believe was behind this?”
“Is this a terrorist attack?”
“Was it rosers?”
Dumb, fear-mongering questions bombarded Seward, but luckily, he wasn’t stuck. “No comment,” he declared loudly. He activated his Trick, carefully allowing the soles of his feet to be solid so he didn’t have to worry about falling into Salren’s core. He walked right through them, like a ghost.
Beltran stumbled through a moment later, fixing his hair. “That’s a handy trick you got there,” he huffed.
“Should’a got yours when you had the chance,” Seward said, ducking under the perimeter tape. Beltran laughed, but Seward was serious. Intangibility was the most useful thing he could have gotten. Seward never had to worry about being locked out of anywhere or surrounded by blood-thirsty reporters. The Goddess knew exactly what she was doing when she granted him his Trick.
Funny, what was her name again?
It didn’t matter anymore. Ashor closed ten years ago.
Firefighters jogged around the smoldering factory. They contained the fire pretty well: Floods doused flames, Blazes willed fire to die, and earth-Terras smothered whatever was left. Beltran, a Jewel, probably would have been safe going into the building with Seward, but Seward didn’t want to risk the place toppling onto him.
Frost collected on Seward’s clothes, forming a protective barrier. “I want statements,” he said, glancing at their reinforcements. “Figure out who saw what.”
Beltran, being one of Seward’s most trusted officers, nodded dutifully. Seward climbed into the rubble. The firefighters knew better than to stop him.
The place stank with hot metal and burning rubble. Seward pressed his sleeve to his nose as he carefully made his way under crooked doorways and creaking columns. Ahead, he saw the reflective coat of the fire captain, crouching over…
“Gele Grace,” Seward groaned.
Three bodies. Charred. Unidentifiable without extensive testing. They were lined up too perfectly for them to have been alive when the place went up. This wasn’t the first time a burning building ended up with three victims. If he was right, then at least two of them would have broken throats and broken legs.
Captain grimaced behind his soot mask, his yellow eyes glowing through. He guided Seward toward cleared section of rubble. “Bombs set the place off,” he said, gesturing to the scorch marks. “Unless one of these was a Blaze, I don’t see how any one of them could’ve set them off.”
“Any chance more fire was made by a Blaze?” asked Seward. “Any flammable material?”
“When the structure’s more sound, I’ll have my people do some testing,” said Captain.
“Great,” muttered Seward, his eyes falling on the victims again. The one in the middle bothered him. In every one of the similar cases, one had been a kid. A teenager. They all reminded Seward of Aussie’s kids.
There wasn’t much left to see. Everything had been burned good. Seward climbed out of the factory. Officer Kraft waited for him outside. “Well?”
“Three victims,” Seward said. “One young.”
Kraft sighed, shaking his head. “This is the Jensen boy all over again,” he said, scratching his stubbly face. Worry filled his eyes. Like he was scared one day he’d come to another burned building with three bodies and find out that the youngest one is Harmony, his daughter.
Seward wasn’t much for sympathy when it came to Kraft. The guy was dim and shouldn’t have become an Enfo, but that was Langley’s decision. “It’s The Host,” he said, keeping his voice low.
“I don’t think it could be anything else,” Kraft said.
Kraft had been investigating this for years, but hardly made any headway. Didn’t have an idea about where they were going next, even though the pattern has been consistent. Seward couldn’t do anything about it. The only thing Seward didn’t have control of was Langley.
Seward didn’t have time to investigate himself, what with basically running an Empire while his lazy boss tried on fine suits, laughed with his friends, and ignored his sons, even his surrogate sons. Not that Seward was bitter.
Seward left Kraft to stare off, pulling out his phone. If there was one woman who could do a better job than Kraft, well…
“Hey, Aus,” Seward said once the line clicked. Aussie grumbled sleepily on the line, which was odd, considering it was eight and Aussie woke up at five. “I need a favor.”
“What kind?” Aussie kept his voice low.
“Bezarago,” Seward named. “I have this case—”
“Can’t do it,” said Aussie, a door shutting behind him. Seward frowned. “She…she died yesterday. The hurricane. We’re in the Isles.”
Seward’s heart fell. “Shit,” he whispered, which was basically I’m sorry in Seward.
“I’ll be back in a week. We’ll…we’ll talk then.” Aussie hung up.
Seward stared at the factory’s remains, strangely relieved. At least it’s not Clove, Rose, or Lily. He wouldn’t know what Aussie would do if one of them died. Didn’t know what he would do. They were his niece and nephew, after all.
His phone rang again, and as the missing children report came through, his stomach dropped. Eric and Maggie Beltran. Neither of them were in their beds, and their father, interviewing firefighters fifty feet to Seward’s right, had no idea.
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OKAY YEAH OOOOOOH OKAY
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venge as a hannibal antagonist
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there are new articles about my cousin. he was a cop, and i-
holy sh*t i miss him
i hate the movie se7en for so many reasons but a big one is the fact that the guy feels the need to write which of the seven deadly sins he's doing at every murder scene like. Idk like we won't get it? like yea bud i assumed the guy u handcuffed to a bed for a year was the sloth sin. like it wasn't super nuanced. thanks for spraypainting it on thw wall anyways tho. in case anyone was confused
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Since you blocked me… @2headed-edbo-oy let me respond to your hostile reply:
I agree that the police is born out of a corrupt system, and in a way, like you’ve stated, they do choose to be a cop, knowing that it is corrupt in a number of ways. However, I fail to see that it means that every cop is a rotten and horrible individual, or looking to oppress others on purpose. That’s my issue. It’s not ignorant to say that at all. I know the history. I know that the US Police force originally came from the slave patrol/catchers.
And I know about recent history. I know that a lot of police brutality has occurred within the western police force and especially in Eastern Asia (but no one seems to talk about that since it’s not popular to say). Just because I know all these things, and I know that police brutality is unfortunately STILL happening, it doesn’t mean that I get to demonise and call every cop evil and racist, when not all of them are. I understand why people would distrust police, I understand why people wouldn’t like police. I also understand and agree that we do need to reform the system to make it better. That does not mean I agree with generalising all of them as bad people.
Also, nowhere in my original post did I say that I think police brutality is okay because it’s not. The fact that you’d call me a bootlicker, reblog my post and then block me is rude and immature. What’s hilarious to me is that you can’t even try to discuss points that you disagree with. That shows ignorance to me.
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War is War and Hell is Hell
Summary: Riza rips into Roy about his vision, Amestris, and the military.
TW: Genocide, implied child abuse, immolation, (parroted) racism, and a lil ableism.
AN: Yeah, she isn't anywhere near nice to him. As she shouldn't! Mans promised her dying father and her that he wouldn't use that alchemy for evil - and then he burns an outgunned and outmanned minority alive. At least with snipers, they never see it coming.
I paraphrased and used a MASH quote for the title.
Riza knows Roy knows she was considering shooting him when she saw him on the field.
Why he insists on looking at her with pity and sadness rather than the clinical dispassion he looks at Ishvalans is beyond her.
He stands in front of her now, arms folded and mouth curved in the way that suggests he’s frustrated. (Presumably with her distance from him.)
“Sir,” she says, saluting.
“God, none of that, please,” he says.
“You’re a superior officer, yes?” She tilts her head. “Wouldn’t want to be accused of insubordination, sir.”
He sighs. “At ease.”
“What do I owe the pleasure, sir?”
His brows come together momentarily. She thinks the ‘sir’ is annoying him. “I want to know why you insist on keeping your distance.”
“I have no obligation to socialize, sir.”
She was right. “Okay, would you cut that out?”
Straightfaced, she said, “No, sir. I don’t want to be accused of insubordination.”
“Would get you out of here a lot faster, right?”
In the same way she refuses to use his name, he refuses to use her rank. Typical. Suppressing an eye roll, she says, “Perhaps, sir.”
He rolls his eyes. “All right.” He stands straight. “Lieutenant Hawkeye, I’m ordering you to tell me why you insist on keeping your distance from me.”
She resists the urge to visibly be annoyed. “Sir, I don’t want to have any further contact than necessary with you.”
He raises one eyebrow. “And that’s because?”
“Because, sir, I gave you the notes for flame alchemy in complete confidence, and you are using them to annihilate an entire people. And because you track the smell of burnt flesh everywhere you go, sir.”
“No matter how much I wash myself, I can’t get rid of it.”
“How sad for you, Major. But I’m sure you can understand why I wouldn’t want to smell the burnt skin of other people, sir.”
The jab landed right where she hoped.
“And the small fact that you said you’d never use the alchemy for evil. You promised my dying father. You said you’d create a happy future, and yet here you are, burning an outgunned, outmatched minority to death, sir.”
“I was drafted, I had no choice. Better they get a quick death.”
Rage bubbled up before she quashed it down. “And you decide to burn them to death?”
His eyes change. They remind her of her father. Fear momentarily shoots through her veins. “Hawkeye, you’re not exactly being merciful either. You didn’t shoot me. You’re killing them as much as I am.”
She wanted so badly to beat him up.
He decides to jab her back in her enraged silence. “Even children aren’t immune from the Hawk’s Eye, I’ve heard.”
She smiles instead. “You think you can care about children, knowing that he tattooed his own research onto me when I was… goodness… eight?”
Roy purses his lips.
“You bury children in fire, sir, I at least bury them in the land they’re from.”
She turns on her heel and is ready to walk out when he says, “There’s no winners in war. The only person who wins is the one who orchestrated it. To pretend otherwise, you’re just fooling yourself. They say that war is hell, but war is war and hell is hell. In war, there’s innocent bystanders. In hell, there are none. You’re going to hell as much as I am, Hawkeye.”
She sneered. “You think that history won’t be written by Amestrians? Where we destroyed the savage people with their backwards ways and tyrannical leaders? Amestrians win, more join pointless wars of conquest older than its own soldiers. Next thing you know, we have 12 year olds serving.”
“If you don’t want to participate, then resign. Or desert. You know what you’re doing by staying.”
She turned around furiously. “The only reason I’m sticking around is because I believe in your vision. You’ve already screwed up, so I guess you better figure out how you’re going to fix Amestris.”
He laughed. “And this coming from the girl who called my vision charming.”
Before she knew it, her knuckles were stinging and he was on the ground holding his jaw.
“You forgot I can give as much as I can get. We may be going to hell together, but you’re going to a place far worse than I am.”
“Get off your high horse, Hawkeye. That sort of childish self delusion gets you nowhere.”
“I suppose you’d know about childish self-delusions.”
She left him there on the ground.
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On one hand, I never thought I'd be 23. On the other, I'm told I have my whole life ahead of me. I'm not saying their wrong but... it feels a little like it's invalidating the 23 years I've already lived.
And sometimes, I think I've wasted those years.
No. I know I've wasted those years. I wasted those years believing lies that I had been told about my dreams and followed the wrong one. It's only now that my real desire has been reignited and I feel an odd sense of shame in it for reasons I can't place.
I do a lot of art on this blog. Play a lot of dnd and reblog a bunch of random things. And I do a lot of drawings or doodles for those random things and dnd. This is because art was the One Thing no one questioned me doing, or told me that I "had to do/be x to be/do this thing." I spent decades drawing because of that, went to a college that screwed me over because of it. I have done so much sacrificing my own happiness for art. All because that was the dream everyone around me supported without giving me ultimatums that even as a small child, I knew I couldn't live up to. It was my freedom. And don't get me wrong, I do love doing it!!!! I love it a lot! The joys of creation never die for me!..... but it isn't what I want. It isn't The Dream that I wanted to follow.
No, that dream was sailing. My curious brain was enraptured the moment I laid eyes on her when I was 4 years old. The second I touched her, surrounded by her, swimming with dolphins, I was hers. Sailors love her, but they fear her all the same. I felt that since then. I have longed since then. Quietly. Every quieter with time passing, I have longed for the ocean.
I used to live in a state where the ocean was merely 4hrs away. Now I live in a landlocked state, due to parental reasons before I became of age. However, as I have no means of moving yet, I long still.
The funny thing is, I know it would be easier to achieve if I just. talked to someone about it.
But unfortunately, I have no idea how. You see, when I told my family, as a small 5 year old, that I wanted to be a sailor, they looked at me and said "You'll have to join the Navy for that. You won't last long." and desiring to prove them wrong, I pouted and waited.
Funny thing about that too. Military doesn't take people with disabilities, for a variety of reasons, some of which I can actually understand. Some. Not All. *Some*. Regardless, I was diagnosed with Autism at 7 and from the way they made it sound back then and family starting to tell me instead "You can't be sailor. They won't let you into the Navy, now.", I thought- I believed- that that dream was dead. So I chose something else.
They destroyed that dream instantly by telling me I'd have to put down animals. I understood the reasons it was such a necessity, but I knew myself well enough to know that no matter how much time went by, even if it was necessary and I understood why and AGREED with it, I would never be able to do it. It would hurt me too much and I'd be in constant emotional pain from the sadness and guilt. You would think that's a small price to pay, but I knew then that I wouldn't last long in that field due to all of that turmoil. Trying and then leaving in a field that involved? When I know I won't last? What an unfair thing to do.
I tried many different dreams. Constuction: "You're too scrawny, you'll need stronger bones for that". Scientist: "Your grades are terrible and it requires a lot of math. You'll need much better scores for that." Farmer: "You'll need lots of money and with your status, you'll have a hard time." Policemen: "You'll have to be ready to kill people."(No, I am not joking with you on this one. I wish I was. And looking back now, as someone Very ACAB? Catch me looking back at tiny baby me like: Just wait 3 more months and you'll never wanna interact with a cop again and your hatred for them will only grow with time)
I listed many dreams and interests until I finally threw up my hands and said "I wanna draw cartoons!" and was surprised when... no one said anything bad had to be done to do so. Instead of "You have to do/be-", I heard "Aw, that's adorable! What kind of cartoon do you wanna make?" and "I think that's great! You're already so talented for your age!" and "You can do it! I bet you'll be as famous as Walt Didney!"
It was. disappointing. It wasn't what I really wanted. But the validation I got. It was like a rush of relief and energy that I dove further into my art.
Right into a pit of depression.
Granted, my depression wasn't caused entirely by this. Nah, this was honestly a very small part of it compared to the other things. But it certainly has a weight to it and it definitely has done a number on me.
A number that I am only now realizing is actually.. quite large.
I've spent my whole life chasing a dream that isn't mine, all because people who don't know what they're talking about told me I couldn't follow what I wanted and me being young and trusting, believed them without question.
I'm 23 today. I question more. I question perhaps a little too much.
My love and longing for the ocean and to sail never died. It was just... subdued. I've had nautical/ocean themed rooms ever since I came back from swimming wjth the dolphins at 4. It changed sometimes, but it always went back to her. I used to swim like a fish until I nearly drowned at 13 bc an ex-friend fooled me into following her into her pool. I'd dream of it, almost constantly. Loved movies centered around it or marine life. Loved lakes and picking up shells and making things with them. Loved collecting sand from all the lakes I went. I may need to relearn how to swim, but I'm willing and ready now.
Still, I thought it wasn't possible for me to be a sailor. All because my birth family told me I had to join the Navy to do so.
It wasn't until recently that I learned that that was a lie. Perhaps it wasn't intentional and merely a statement made in ignorance, but I can never be sure, given my birth family's history.
And yet, here I lay, in my bed, age 23, knowing now that I can just. Be a Sailor. longing so desperately, the desire reignited and growing with each passing day.
but not knowing where to start. or how. I'll be the first to admit that I know jack shit about it, but I am willing to learn. I want to learn.
Google is always an option. But I don't think it's a smart one?
Perhaps when I am 24 I will achieve it.
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@stagfollowed , liked for a starter / twenty.
❝ i can hardly recognize people that I knew before, ❞ her voice is in a weird middle ground. is she sad? or wistful? it's been a long day for her, & it's evident as she ashes her joint. her eyes flicker over to the man. maybe she's just seen too many cops & agents recently, but she's pegging him as that type. ❝ --- need a hit? ❞
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So, how do you picture Megatron and Orion hooking up for the first time? Is it like a slow-burn after a few dates or is it just a sporadic in-the-moment thing in a broom closet (with feelings really developing afterwards)?
hmmm I’d imagine the actual deed being done after some real gentlemanly, good and proper wining and dining, several dates of it—Megs wants to really treat this one RIGHT,,plus Orion’s sweet and simple company of just chatting about nothing amounted to just about equally as much fun as their steamier nights
Long story short: SLOW BURN
as a precaution, more suggestive mentionings and further sappy explanations under the cut:
As mentioned before, Op may put on a haughty dance persona that could fool any mecha looking up to the stage—but Orion is nothing but a cute, fumbling mess under Meg’s gaze.
Meg’s has never allowed himself to linger with any of his potential lovers, too much risk of getting attached, but Orion didn’t deserve hard and fast—this was a mech he wanted the have the honor of taking his sweet time with. He wanted to see more of Orion even though he did tell himself from the beginning that he would not fall in—but Megs is a bit,,sensitive no matter how much he refuses to admit it.
He couldn’t risk a sporadic night screwing up whatever relationship they’d built thus far—plus attachment returned from Orion would be that much more dangerous, and heartbreaking. To be able to see more of him would require that he didn’t get too close, but it was the distance that he put between himself and Orion that really ended up sealing his feelings.
Dates and dinner and flowers and all the silly things that come with a mere courtship ended up being far more intimate than any ‘hook up’ could. Sure they likely fooled around before Meg’s took Orion but feelings came first before the two fell in to each other!
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I don’t think I care if I get hate for this anymore.….
I don’t agree with ACAB. I’m black, and Black Lives Matter. Police brutality is a serious issue that needs to be addressed, but I’m sorry, I just can’t stand by the notion that all cops are terrible horrible people and that they are all responsible for corrupt cops’ crimes. I think yes, cops are all a part of a corrupt system, however, saying they are all corrupt and that it’s all of their fault for bad cops’ crimes doesn’t make sense to me. As a black person, am I responsible for the actions of every black criminal out there? No. Just like not all white people are responsible for racists being racist. It’s everyone’s responsibility (within reason) to help build a better world and solve the world’s ills, not just one group of people.
I just think it’s absurd and honestly it generalises all cops as racist human beings. I don’t think defunding the police is the answer either. We need reform, we need more tests on which cops are safe around EVERYONE, we need more action to take place for sure. But defunding it and removing the police altogether, to me, is a recipe for disaster. That’s all I wanted to say.
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Gonna talk about the Little Miss Perfect: The Musical demo album songs that have been released so far (which you can find here) because I have many thoughts about it so far:
For those of you who don’t know, this is an entire planned musical based off the songs Little Miss Perfect and Ordinary, and so far 5 other songs have been released as well. They are titled Before We Go, Gia’s Lament, Infatuated, Fallin’ Fast, and We Won’t Wait (The Protest Song). This makes 7 songs total, and I’m pretty sure more will continue to be released.
So far it’s been pretty great, I’ve pieced together some of the major plot points and it seems like this is going to be very interesting and relevant to the current state of the world. In addition to some of your typical high school drama tropes, a wlw romance, opportunity for a fairly diverse cast (from what we’ve seen so far) and amazing music, it seems to also tackle racism, police violence, internalized homophobia, the ways the school system fails students, and mental illness, specifically depression. (The conservatives are gonna throw a fit over this if it goes mainstream, which will be kind of funny if not pretty annoying.)
The one main criticism I have so far is I feel they misused the word trigger a bit in Gia’s Lament, though that seems kind of in character for Gia from what we know about her.
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would you mind going into why lin being a cop is bad? i’ve never thought of that before and i wanna know if any of my view about the topic are wrong !!
well cops are a very western very white thing and it's just a very weird move to make cops exist in a world inspired by asia/inuit cultures. also, cops have a long and incredibly violent history with brown or indigenous people and it's just not a good look to have characters who are cops in a world full of brown and indigenous characters. lin is an asian women and it's odd to say the least to make a poc a cop
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Tw police brutality, racisim, fetishization.
Ngl Kylin makes me pretty uncomfortable. Shipping a cop with a brown native lesbian woman is pretty messed up. But also the attitude that alot of kylin shippers have about lin? Like, yall (not you) are fetishizing police brutality by wanting her to beat you on the street.
oh yeah these are some very good points, why do you want to ship a minority which has historically bee nattacked by cops with a cop?? not even getting into why lin is even a cop when she's an asian woman in the first place?
and yeah why would you want to be beat up by a cop? and people who want to be beaten up so to speak by kya are even worse since there's a long history of saying 'step on me' and such to darkskinned women
plus there's people who make kya a darkskinned woman lin's caretaker or hypersexualise kya/treat kya as some smooth-talking suave sexual being. this is a kid's show. she's a brown native woman. stop it
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Share your Pride day 11 (because I forgot): Favourite queer historical figure!
Kind of a cop-out but I really do like Sappho's writing style.
Also, I have Marsha P. Johnson to thank for my existence, so thank you Marsha and all the fearless trans Black women who fought cops for our freedom.
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ANGIE COULD BE A SLOPPY DRUNK. maybe it was the fact that whenever she drank, she ended up letting go a little bit - something that she never would have done while she was completely sober, but.. at the end of the day, that was EXACTLY why she drank around people that she knew that she could trust - for one, her fellow cops. of course, she’d normally do it around her friends, whenever they were around, but.. not now, of course, because no one had the fucking faintest CLUE that she was in here. after all, this was a COP BAR, so it meant that she was slightly protected, right? NO, IT DID NOT. still, whatever happened to her happened and at this point, she was past caring about the fact that she did not have a good history with bars. still, when someone sat down by her side, angie had to sigh, as she put her beer down. CLEARLY, sitting alone was an invitation to be asked out. “if you’re about to ask if you can buy me A DRINK, the answer’s no,” maybe she should have let them do it and seen what happened, but.. it wasn’t like she could do that, was it? no, angie was already a few drinks in and.. well, she tended to TALK a lot when that happened. “and unless you have something interesting to say, which i’m sure you do not, THAT SEAT’S TAKEN TOO.” not really, but then again - when had she ever let anyone that close?
@igcttabe || @drunkcnsunlight || @heavenbxrred || @shcpcrsistcd || @ragdclls
OMLLLLLLLLLLLL I just saw a b99 fanpost tagged ‘tw cops’ like girl. Girl. girl. GIRL. Cmon now
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Hey, so today was the last day of fun filming for one of my favorite sitcoms Brooklyn Nine-Nine. The show has a special place in my heart, and I thought maybe I’d share this really cool photo.
Phil Lord and Chris Miller directed and produced the Pilot episode of Brooklyn Nine-Nine. Which honestly, when I first heard, I got really excited and realized, yeah, that makes sense since I could sense the same type of comedy from Clone High and The Mitchells vs. the Machines whist rewatching it.
I watched B99 before Clone High. I thought it was crazy that one of my favorite shows was directed by the same awesome people.
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