I like way too many things but some are(I might add some things to the list in the future):
Music: my favorite genres are metal and rock, I can play piano
Different games: DMC, COD, MK
Comic universes: DC comics(Robin, Nightwing, Arsenal, Flash, Superman) and specifically Bullseye and Daredevil from Marvel(I'm a newbie when it comes to the comics)
Shows: Criminal Minds, Supernatural
Art: I draw sometimes, haven't had the confidence to post yet though
Literature: I like classic literature and poetry, I write sometimes but it's usually just scraps
Masterlist: loading..
Psychology: I'm no scientist but I like learning about the basics of how my and other people's brains work
Just a heads up, I do not like/support incest ships, etc. No spardacest, wincest or similar things here. So if you disagree feel free to block me, I will do the same.
Week 3 of Summer of Clones! “Downtime”, featuring the 212th!
Definitely inspired by the volleyball scene from Top Gun, if you couldn’t tell, lol. Cody wishes he was on the court, but he promised General Kenobi he’d play a round of Space Chess with him.
Iwaizumi glances up. You're lounging on the couch, wearing your favourite sleep set. The one he secretly hates, because the straps have a tendency to slide off your shoulders when you're unaware.
"Tried what?"
Your lips curl into a grin. Mattsun and Makki left less than ten minutes ago, and you're already smiling like you're up to no good. Sometimes Iwaizumi secretly wishes you had a third roommate. Maybe that would create some needed space, maybe it could soothe some of the electric tension between you. He's not sure he understands the inexplicable change between you that's been growing these last couple of months, but he doesn't want to ruin your friendship.
And at the end of the day, he knows he doesn't actually want a third roommate. He likes that he's the one who gets to see you sleepy and slow in the morning, cranky in the evening. That he gets to cook you meals when you're too tired to do it yourself. He doesn't want to share any of it.
"You know," you say, grin turning wicked. Iwaizumi rakes his brain, trying to figure out what you're talking about. He runs through the things you talked about, Mattsun and the funeral home, Makki being unemployed and broke, Oikawa's game last week, something about your shitty ex-boyfriend—
Oh.
The new girl Mattsun has been hooking up with.
"Cock warming," you say, giggling. Like you're reading his mind, realising exactly what he's thinking right now. He knows you saw. Saw the way his cheeks grew flushed at the conversation. Saw the way he avoided eye contact, while Makki was too distracted with teasing Mattsun.
"There's no way it can be that good," he'd said. Mattsun had leaned back against the couch and smiled lazily, the way he always does, the way Iwaizumi knows makes girls fawn over him.
Iwaizumi hadn't added anything to the conversation, hoping to stay clear of any suspicion. Apparently, that wasn't enough, because when he'd looked at you, you were already looking back. Smiling, in that way that meant your mind was going a thousand miles per hour. Planning. Scheming.
Your tiny tank top slipping off your shoulder all the while.
"Hajiii," you sing-song. His eyes dart towards his bedroom, hoping to escape, and you notice, your eyes narrowing at him. "C'mere,"
You pat the spot next to you on the couch as you sit up. He obliges, because what else can he do? When you're sitting there, hair slightly dishevelled from when Makki ruffled it on his way out, looking so, so sweet.
"Wanna try it?"
Your voice is syrupy sweet, dripping honey and temptation. You're halfway crawling into his lap, one of your hands placed on his thigh. Iwaizumi swallows.
"We shouldn't," he says, and it makes you pout, pushing further. You lean in, and he can smell your perfume now, something sweet and flowery.
You're always flirting with him, but this. This is something different, something heavier. There's no deniable plausibility here, no light teasing.
Iwaizumi will admit that he's always secretly basked in the affection you'd reward him. He's used to girls fawning over Oikawa, or making out with Mattsun at parties, or going on dates with Makki. But you. You've always danced around him, making him feel special. Lightheaded.
"Hajime," you pout, drawing him out of his thoughts. "Why not?"
He swallows again, throat feeling dry. Why not?
You're fully straddling him now, sinking into his lap.
Why not?
Wrapping your arms around your neck, you're looking down at him, still smiling.
"Have you ever tried it?" you whisper, while you play with the hairs at the back of his neck. Poor Iwaizumi has to hold back a groan as he closes his eyes.
"No."
"Do you wanna?"
You know you're being bold. But you've been holding back for so long. Who can blame you for finally breaking when you've been watching him squirm around all night?
"It could be fun. We could put on a movie or something," you say, and you grind your hips into his experimentally. Your grin widens when you feel that he's already half hard. His hands fly to your hips, holding you still as he takes a deep breath.
You can see the turmoil in his brown eyes, feel the storm rising in him.
"Okay," he says, releasing your hips.
The look on your face is victorious, and you move your hands down, squeezing his shoulders in excitement.
"I pick the movie," he manages to bite out, and you nod eagerly, hands flying down to the waistband of his shorts.
"Sure, Haji, whatever you want," you murmur, focused on the new objective at hand. Iwaizumi grabs your hands, placing them behind your back. You look down at him, frowning. Finally gaining some footing, Iwaizumi tuts at you, shaking his head.
"Let me pick a movie first," he murmurs. He keeps your hands where they are, with one big hand on your wrists, while he leans over you, grabbing the TV remote off the coffee table. He leans back on the couch again, casually opening Netflix. You stare, dumbly, waiting for the next instruction.
The thing you've always liked about Iwaizumi is that he doesn't let you get away with any of your antics. With Oikawa, it's a constant game of who'll back down first, of who can get away with the most. Mattsun is largely unaffected apart from the times when he'll tag along to help you torment the others. Makki is so easy to tease that it's not even funny.
When it comes to Iwaizumi, he's steady. It's always annoyed you a bit. When he's with Oikawa, it's like it's second nature for him to get riled up. But as soon as it comes to you, he's like a rock. He never lets your antics reach him. Not even the outrageous sleep sets you'll wear or the innocent cuddling when you're having sleepovers.
It's fun.
But now that he's finally given in, you don't know what to do.
"Go grab your blanket," Iwaizumi murmurs into your ear. It takes a few seconds before you spring into action, shuffling towards your bedroom. You quickly grab it, before checking yourself in your mirror before you head back to the living room.
Your face feels hot, and you fix your hair.
This is Hajime. Your Hajime. The guy you've known since you were fifteen, the guy who used to buy you sodas from the vending machine before class and save you from Oikawa's relentless teasing all the time. The guy you moved in with three years ago when you moved to Tokyo.
Because it's cheaper. And easier. And it's nice to have a friend in the apartment, to rant to and cook dinner with.
The guy you've been flirting with for as long as you can remember. Under the guise that it's friendly. And fun. And that there's definitely nothing more to it.
"Did you fall in there?"
"No!"
You pad back into the living room, blanket wrapped around you. Iwaizumi has already picked a movie. You think it's a comedy, judging by the look of it. He raises a brow at you, and you smile as you make your way back to the couch.
"Hi," you say, and he smiles back, patting his thigh.
"C'mere," he says, echoing your own words from earlier, and you oblige instantly, this time settling with your back against his chest. He lets you get comfortable, and you pull the blanket over you. The movie is already starting, but you're not paying attention.
Not when Iwaizumi smells so good.
"Why are you so nervous all of a sudden?" he asks, and one of his hands finds your hip underneath the blanket, making soothing circles with his thumb.
"I'm not nervous," you protest, and you feel him chuckle beneath you, clearly not believing you.
"Right."
A beat.
"We don't have to do this if you don't want to."
He's giving you an out. A last chance to take it back, to not change your friendship into whatever this is. But even then, you know this has been a long time coming. You'd be an idiot to try to stop it.
"No, I want to," you say.
"We can just watch the movie."
"Hajime."
There's a warning in your tone, telling him not to worry anymore. You feel him relaxing, finally, and he grunts, settling into the couch at last. His hand not on your hip roams your side, before he settles on your tit, squeezing your soft skin.
"Okay, baby."
He flicks your nipple through the fabric of your top, and you gasp, squirming. You feel the bulge beneath your ass, and it makes you a little dizzy to know you have this effect on him.
You try to focus on the movie. A girl is screaming at her roommate, throwing things at her. There's a weird-looking dog. Iwaizumi's hand on your hip dips underneath the waistband of your shorts.
"Proper stretching is important," he says, cupping your pussy over your panties. "To prevent injury."
It makes you giggle, the way he speaks like you're one of his athletes. He keeps playing with your nipple while he thumbs your clit with his other hand, applying dull stimulation. You gasp softly, spreading your legs to give him more access.
You don't need to look behind you to know he's smiling. Especially when he dips his fingers into your underwear, stroking your folds and finding you soaking already. He spreads your arousal over your folds, still not giving you any real relief.
The roommates are in their principal's office. She's telling some other story, something about a real nightmare roomie.
"Did you seriously pick a movie about bad roommates?" you ask, and Iwaizumi presses his lips to your throat, planting a wet kiss there.
"It seemed appropriate."
"Excuse me, I am not a bad room— Oh,"
You're interrupted when he presses a finger inside you, testing the waters. When you melt into his embrace, he adds another finger, slowly working you open. It's easy when you're already so aroused, feeling like you've been ready ever since you saw his reaction to your friends discussing cock warming hours ago.
"You sure?"
"Uh-huh," you answer, too distracted to form proper words. He curls his fingers, and your mouth falls open in a quiet moan.
"Not even when you wear these shirts," He pulls your shirt down, as if making a point, exposing your tits to the cold air of your living room. "Constantly one bad move away from flashing me?"
"I'd say that's just philanthropy,"
He laughs, surprised. Moving your hair to the side, he kisses your throat again.
The main character in the movie is at a summer camp now. Desperately trying to make friends and failing.
Iwaizumi adds a third finger, and you squirm, getting used to the pressure. He palms your clit to help you, and you bite your lip. Even through your shorts and the blanket, you can hear the sounds of how wet you are, as he keeps a steady pace.
"Hajime," you gasp, feeling your orgasm already building. Iwaizumi seems to feel it too, with the way your warm walls flutter around his fingers. He removes his fingers from your pussy, bringing them to his mouth and tasting. He hums at the taste.
You watch over your shoulder, mouth agape. He grins, though his cheeks are flushed, betraying his otherwise calm demeanour. He plays with the waistband of your shorts.
"Take these off."
With his help, you shimmy off both your shorts and underwear, leaving you wearing nothing but a tank top and your fuzzy socks. Iwaizumi guides you forward with a hand on your back, so he can pull his cock out of his pants with the other.
You go to look over your shoulder, wanting to see, but he grabs your chin and points you towards the TV instead. The girl in the movie has made a friend now, and they're rooming together.
You hear the slick sounds of him stroking his cock, and then he taps your ass. With a pout, you straddle his legs properly and sit up so he can position himself at your entrance.
He slowly guides you back on his cock, and you whine at the stretch, still watching the movie, despite being unsure what the plot even is. The girl is angry because her roomie is messy, you're pretty sure. Your vision swims, and you find it hard to focus on anything at all.
"Ease up, baby," Iwaizumi bites out, and you try your best to relax as you sink down further.
Iwaizumi is big. Big and thick, and when your ass finally meets the back of his thighs again, it feels like he's in your throat. He makes you lean back, and you whimper, squeezing your eyes shut. He holds you tight by your hips, keeping your squirming to a minimum as you get used to the intrusion.
Finally, you feel like your pussy is getting used to the fullness, and you relax slightly, leaning entirely on his chest. He rubs soothing circles in your hips, resting his head on your shoulder.
"Good girl,"
He laughs when you clench, as he wraps his arms around you. You feel dizzy, warm all over. A light sweat is starting to form on your forehead, and you grip his arm.
The girls in the movie are at a party, all of them wearing a white top and a pair of jeans. Iwaizumi laughs into your ear, deep and warm.
"They look just like one of Mattsun's girlfriends," he states, and you slap his arm.
"Don't talk about Mattsun's girls when your dick is inside of me," you bite back, and he presses down on your stomach in response, making you moan out.
"You have Mattsun's girl to thank for this, don't you?" he teases, and you roll your eyes. When you don't say anything back, he hums, and you both settle into a comfortable silence.
It lasts about five minutes.
The main character is talking a guy, who you think might be her love interest, in a kitchen.
You can't focus.
It's too hard. It feels like all of your nerve endings are on fire, your pussy growing more and more sensitive with each agonising minute that passes.
You want him to move. To fuck you.
Iwaizumi has the patience of a saint. Maybe it's from the years of diligent volleyball practice every day after school, maybe it's from constantly keeping your three other best friends behaviour in check.
Whatever it is, it's certainly going to be your downfall.
He keeps you still in his lap, the only torturous friction you get being when he laughs at the movie. The movie that's really not that funny.
"Haji," you ask, with trembling lips.
When he doesn't reply, you squirm. That makes him take a deep breath, and he squeezes you in warning when you clench down on him.
"It's too much," you complain. Your mind is swimming, eyes going glassy. The only thing you can think about is getting fucked.
Preferably hard.
"You're being so good," he replies. He rocks into you slightly, making you whine. "You can keep being nice for me, right?"
"No," you say, shaking your head.
"This was your idea." Iwaizumi chuckles. His breath feels hot on your throat, only making your mind even fuzzier.
"I changed my mind."
"We can stop if you want to."
The hands on your hips start to push you away.
"No, please, no, no, no,—" you panic, digging your hands into his thighs as you lean back in his lap. The slight friction makes you moan, squeezing your eyes shut.
"But you changed your mind?" he asks. His voice is teasing, but there's a slight strain there.
Looking over your shoulder, you meet his gaze, batting your eyelashes the way that always works with Makki when you want to steal his snacks. Iwaizumi smiles, taking in the pout on your lips, the pretty way your brows furrow.
You look so cute.
So cute, he wants to squeeze you.
"Hajime,"
There's a lilt to your voice, a saccharine sweetness. The one Iwaizumi has always had a weakness for, even if you don't notice it yourself.
"Yeah?" he breathes. He nods, and you nod along, mirroring him.
"We could do something else instead," you say. He feels you clench down again. Your pussy is so hot and wet, it makes him groan. He thinks he'd do anything you asked of him right now.
The movie is long forgotten now. You're unsure if the roommates are still even friends at this point.
"What do you wanna do?" he asks, and when you lean down to kiss him, he moans, leaning into the kiss. He grabs your chin, angling you so he can kiss you better, moaning into your mouth.
The angle is slightly uncomfortable, and you pull away with a pout, like it's somehow Iwaizumi's fault. He groans, head falling back, when you sit up, his cock leaving your warmth with a slick sound.
You turn around so you're facing him, promptly sitting down in his lap again. It makes you both moan again when he reenters your slick heat. You run your fingers through his hair, tugging on the short locks.
"How are you gonna watch the movie now?" Iwaizumi smiles, taking you in. He must admit, it's better this way. When he can see your every expression, the way you're panting slightly. His gaze drops down to where you're connected. The sight makes his jaw slack, and he can't help but bring his thumb down to your clit, circling the bud slowly.
"I'm watching something more fun."
Your voice is whiny, but you're smiling. You grind your hips into his hand, and he feels you clench when the tip of his cock hits somewhere deep inside you.
"Is that so?"
"You're very handsome, Hajime,"
"That might be the nicest thing you've ever said to me," Iwaizumi says, breathless. You're gathering speed now, but you're still just grinding against him. It's a sweet kinda torture, the way he can feel your pussy pulsing around him, yet you're barely moving.
"That's not true," you object. You kiss him again, only a peck, letting him chase you. "I tell you nice things all the time."
"You question my patience all the time," he responds. He tangles his hand in your hair, holding you still as he ghosts his lips over yours. Your breaths mingle, and you moan into his mouth.
"Like right now, you mean?" you ask, and he nods, before he kisses you again. Firmly.
It's nice. It's nice to run your fingers through his hair and hear his little groans when you tuck hard enough. It's nice how warm and big his hand is on the back of your head. It's nice to feel the firm and steady pulse of his cock inside of you, lighting up all your sensitive nerve endings.
Iwaizumi is nice.
He's more than nice, but your head feels empty, unable to find another word, filled with nothing but the feeling of Iwaizumi's tongue against your own, as he kisses you silly.
"Fuck me, Haji," you whisper when he pulls away for air, and he chuckles, shaking his head.
"You're the one who wanted to change activities," he replies. "You do it,"
He leans back and pats your thighs. You glare.
"I'm the one who suggested movie night in the first place."
Iwaizumi raises a brow at you.
"Movie night?" he teases. You nod, attempting to be the picture perfect of innocence. "This is your version of movie night?"
He motions to where he's still buried inside of you. Where you're dripping, staining his joggers. Hopefully, you haven't stained the couch. Yet.
"Yes."
"Well, I picked the movie. So it's your turn to pick something now"
Something akin to determination washes over your expression. You put your hands on his chest, and slowly you start going up and down. You moan in unison, and your brow pinches as you start to ride him.
The slick sound fills your living room, and you pant, your thighs already beginning to burn. Iwaizumi notices. Because of course he does.
"Your form is—"
"Do not comment on my form," you cut him off, digging your nails into his chest.
"I was gonna tell you it's good." His eyes drop down to your tits, and the smug look on his face is worse than any comment. It only fuels your fire. You ignore the ache, doubling down as you start to ride him harder. You move your hands up, wrapping them around his neck. You don't press, just keep them there, and his jaw falls slack, eyes going lidded.
"Fuck," he says, nodding. He puts his hand over one of yours, and he moans when you press down lightly on his throat. You feel him twitch inside you, and it makes you smile.
"Haji, you gonna come, ah, just from me choking you?" you tease and, he laughs, voice soft, like he's out of breath.
"I'm gonna come from how good you look bouncing on my cock like that," he replies, without missing a beat, and the admission makes you falter. He whines when your knee slips, and before you can think, his hands are on your hips, guiding you up and down.
He does it like it's nothing, muscles tensing deliciously with each push and pull. You collapse onto his chest, moving your hands to his shoulders. He doesn't seem to take notice, too focused on the way you're clenching around his cock.
It doesn't take long for you to feel your orgasm start to build like that, not when he's hitting all the right spots, while telling you how pretty you look taking him. You barely get to warn him before it creeps up on you, making your toes curl as warm pleasure burns through you.
He moans, voice turning pitchy as he follows right after you, pulling you flush against him as he finishes inside, filling your cunt to the brim. It makes you whimper, and you rest your head on his chest. Your eyelids feel heavy as you both take a few minutes to collect yourselves. You listen to the way Iwaizumi's heartbeat slows as he comes down.
He runs his hands up and down your back, occasionally pressing into sore spots.
"You have a muscle knot here," he eventually says, pressing into a spot right between your shoulder blades. You yelp, twitching in his lap. Cum spills out from your sore pussy, dripping down his balls. "Are you doing the exercises I taught you?"
"Hajime!" you scold, getting off his lap. You grab your panties from somewhere on the floor, putting them on and stomping towards your room. Iwaizumi watches the way the insides of your thighs glisten with his cum.
"I was just asking," he says, putting his still half-hard cock back in his pants as he follows you. "Also, you should really go pee—"
tooth-rotting fluff drabble because i need pope cody to come homeeeee 💔
thinking about the first time pope genuinely smiled at you and you started crying over it. he looks frightened, but you just silently wrap your arms around him. you're mumbling something about how much you love him and he just stands there, rubbing your back trying not to laugh at you. you pull back and cup his face in your hands.
"you're just so precious, i want to keep you forever..." you sniffled.
"you have me forever..." he mutters, still a bit confused by your sudden emotion. he frowns when that makes you cry even harder, burying your face in his chest. you can feel his worry at your onslaught of tears, so you pull back and reassure him with a soft kiss.
"happy tears... because i love you so much." he nods in understanding, just holding you close to him until the tears subside.
he'd do anything normal and i'd cry... i just can't get pope out of my head guys i'm sorry i'm just in my feelings for him and i UGH I LOVE HIM SO MUCH MY BABY WAAAAAAA
currently thinking about sitting with pope cody while he watches another national geographic documentary. he's sat in his normal chair, you're curled up in his lap. you two were the only ones in the house tonight, so he's in just his boxers. you're in one of his shirts and your panties. your head is resting in the crook of his neck, while your fingers trace light circles over his chest. one of his hands rests on your knees, thumb rubbing over the soft skin of your thighs. his other arm is wrapped around your lower back, hand resting beneath the soft cotton of your panties. he gives your ass a squeeze every once in a while, the action soothing to him in a way.
anyway, yeah... you fall asleep on him and he just holds you instead of taking you to bed. even when his legs start to get a bit tingly, he doesn't move an inch.
i don't know why i'm so down bad for domestic pope, but i think i would die to experience this with him...
like maybe he’s feeling clingier than usual tonight, gripping your arm and grunting out “no. no stay with me, wanna hold you longer.” but it’s been a long, hot summer day filled with swimming and tanning— you need to freshen up!
you try telling him to come shower with you, which usually works. but today you’re just met with a pouting headhake, “no. don’t want to. just be quick, please.”
showering in his clear, glass shower, the room smelling of your sweet summer body wash. turning to the door to see him standing there, back straight as he blinks, his chest slowly regaining normal breaths. watching you shower calms him, he’s always liked to watch.
but there’s just something special about the silence & conversation combination. one minute he’s asking “what brand of soap is that?” “hm?” “what brand of soap-“ “oh! it’s dove baby, do you like it?” “yeah ‘s nice.” and the next he’s just silently blinking, watching your wet legs & the cloud of creamy bubbles pooling near your feet.
it’s cozy, it’s safe, it’s agonizing to think that you can’t have his secure gaze on you all the time </3
There's a gross nagging feeling at the back of his neck, crawling down his spine
Like he's left a kid behind, alone and afraid when he thinks about his younger self.
He thinks about kids hes seen clinging to the corpses of their parents in massacred villages and battlefields,
And then he thinks about himself. He thinks about seeing that blond hair and those pigtails and leaving it behind. Rotting with his parents bones maybe, maybe just decaying with the house itself.
Despite the disconnect he feels, Theres no amount of patriotism he could choke on that can convince him deep down that the little kid had to be hung by their neck with a flag. That the rambunctious teen quarterback had to waste his freedom fighting for it, and theres surely nothing that can convince him to bring this up with a therapist.
Carnival in Rio de Janeiro wasn’t supposed to be chaotic for you. You were supposed to be composed!
…Controlled..!
A model, standing tall on a glittering float, camera lights catching every sequined detail of your costume as it shimmered in gold and emerald. The crowd below roared like a living ocean, music shaking the entire avenue of Rio de Janeiro into pure adrenaline. And then—of course—he showed up.
Hinata Shoyo.
Somehow, your very real, very chaotic boyfriend had gotten access to the float route like it was the most easiest thing in the world. You spotted him between dancers and confetti cannons, orange hair impossible to miss, grinning like he’d just discovered sunlight for the first time.
He cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled something you absolutely did not hear over the samba band. But you knew what it probably was.
“That’s my girlfriend!!”
You buried your face in your hands for half a second. “Hinata,” you mouthed, horrified, laughing anyway. Then the float turned. And suddenly he was running alongside it.
Not jogging, not casually keeping pace. Actually sprinting.
The crowd noticed immediately, Of course they noticed a huge volleyball star running after a ginormous float in Rio De Janeiro. He jumped up onto the edge of the moving float with zero hesitation, zero fear…zero sense.
“YOU LOOK AMAZING!” he shouted directly into your face. “I KNOW! THANK YOU!” you shouted back automatically—then immediately regretted matching his volume because now everyone nearby was staring at you. You were a professional model…
You were supposed to be elegant..!
Buuuut Hinata grabbed your hands like he hadn’t seen you in years instead of like… yesterday morning. “I didn’t think I’d actually find you,” he said, laughing breathlessly. “This whole thing is insane!” “You’re the insane one!” you shot back, though you were smiling so hard it ruined the effect.
He spun you once—carefully, like he was still aware you were on a moving float—and then immediately got distracted by the dancers. “Oh my—ARE THOSE FIREWORKS COMING NOW?!”
“No, that’s—” you started.
Too late.
He was already leaning over the edge like he was about to try to interact with the fireworks schedule personally. You grabbed the back of his shirt before he could do anything irreversible.
“Hinata Shoyo, if you fall off this float I am breaking up with you in front of all of Brazil.”
He froze, then turned to you with a grin that was entirely unrepentant.
“Worth it.”
“You’re impossible.”
“You liiiikkkkkeee me thoughhhhhh.”
“…Unfortunately.”
He laughed, and the sound got swallowed by drums and cheering as the float moved forward. He wrapped an arm around your waist, kissing your cheek for all of the paparazzi to see.
For a moment, you just stood there with him—the chaos of Carnival swirling around you, glitter sticking to your skin, music vibrating through your bones.
And somehow, despite everything—it felt like the most natural thing in the world. “Next time,” you said, leaning closer so he could hear, “you are not running alongside a moving float.” Hinata squeezed your waist playfully, earning a slight squeak from you.
As a fan of Call of Duty and someone who actively enjoys gameplays of different campaings of the game I think it is really important for people to remember:
Call of Duty is American/British military propaganda and we need to draw a line between enjoying a game with military settings, which are FICTIONAL, to actually glorify war criminals actively commiting war crimes (such as the current situation in Palestine where american and british soldiers are being deployed to).
A very special part of this community are the military inacurracies and playing with the propagandistic settings to mold the characters into queer/hybrid/silly/gender bent/whatever fictional creature individuals. Fiction is an important form of protest against these regimes.
It is particularly important for me to mention this after the MW4 trailer came out. Thinking about a (not so) fictional war between USA/UK and North Kore makes me think of… something… (cough cough The Korean War cough cough).
What I am trying to say is: don’t fall into propaganda. Make soldiers fuck eachother sloppy style. Fuck military propaganda. Read gay smut.
