This thread is for writing Jow Forums related stuff and the recommendation of books that are Jow Forums related
>It's been unscientifically proven that a lack of (you)s for writers can lead depression, alcoholism, story abandonment, and an hero.
>But it's so easy to make a difference in a writer's life. Just one (you) a day can make the difference between a happy writer and a writer on permanent hiatus.
>Please, post now. Help make a writer's day.
featured authors:
Doilooklikewritefag Touching Feelinng Jow Forums edition: user gets a scarred gun healing ensues [WAFFENGEIST][FEELS][HEALING][CUTE] pastebin.com/jMmt11Qr
Barret Sempai Panni: The story of a sheriff and a feisty irish gun [WAFFENGEIST][HUMOR][SLICE OF LIFE] pastebin.com/CwxPxMrn
PKM GF >"I may be a tall girl but I am light as a feather!" >"You know you want you to pick me up and carry me all day long!" >"It's OK to be rough with me, I love it!" >"That's right! slam my cover down hard!" >"Why don't you ask your friend to join us? There's plenty of me for two!" >"A 250 round box? Oh my!"
Lucas Johnson
(random repost, to follow in the next post)
Brayden Rodriguez
>It's the end of yet another day at the range, and once again your owner just leaves you in the small room in the basement that seems to be in the process of being turned into a bunker & in the meantime acts as a storage for guns, milsurp and ammo. No cleaning, no nothing. You can hear the muffled voices from upstairs where the other guns seem to be preparing for the customary movie night. >You were happy when he bought you from the family of your last owner who were debating whether or not to turn you over to the police to be scrapped right until the moment user bought you. Had you known how things would turn out you might have refused to go with him, at least by being scrapped you wouldn't have to tolerate this. >When he first bought you he took you straight to the range and went through a box of cheap Russian ammo he bought at the range. The pain from the steel cases grinding against your chamber every time you cycled didn't bother you at the time; you thought he'd be using brass-cased ammo in the future as he seemed like a decent guy. >After he brought you home he brought you down here and said he'd come back to clean you in a while, but then after two hours when you went up to see what all the noice was about you found him watching some movie with his other guns, as soon as he saw you he told you to go back to basement and not to come out until he tells you otherwise. >Feeling hurt you complied and in the month you have been here you haven't shown yourself to anyone, every weekend he takes you to the range and goes through three, four boxes of that fucking Wolf shit before taking you home and leaving you in the basement before joining the other guns for the movie night. >The only 'maintenance' he ever does is adjust your sights, and the only reason he does even that is because you make sure to undo the zeroing after every trip to the range as a petty revenge. >As you wallow you are interrupted by someone entering the room, it's one of user's rifles, an AR-15.
Nathan Wilson
>"So, the slavshit still won't honor us with her presence" she says, you can practically smell the venom dripping from her mouth. >You are getting pissed, first you are in no uncertain terms excluded from all of the activities, and now the little shit is talking as if it was you who made the decision? She's gravely mistaken if she thinks you are going to dignify her with a response. >"HEY! I am talking to you!" she shouts at you, it seems you'll have to respond after all, lest the rest will also come down here and then you'll have little chance of peace... >"Who are you calling slavshit you fucking Jam-16 -wannabe? After being perfectly happy to exclude me from everything that happens in this house for a month you have the nerve to blame *me* for that asshole's very clear order to stay here in my rifle form until he says otherwise?" you shout back as you come out. >"The fuck are you talking about, user would never do something like that!" she raises her voice even more. >"The day he brought me here he said he'd come down to clean me in a while, only to start watching movies with you & when I came to see what all the noice was about he said, and I quote: "Go wait in the basement and don't come out until I tell you otherwise!" Which reminds me, in the month I have been here, even after all that shitty Russki ammo he has put through me he hasn't cleaned me even once! Why he ever bothered buying me when he quite clearly couldn't give a flying fuck about me is beyond me!" you shout back, also raising your voice. >"What's going on here?" user shouts as he comes down to see what the shouting is about. >"The ungrateful little shit must have some important bits loose, claiming that you are somehow mistreating her even though you are taking her to the range every week!" the AR replies to user.
Jeremiah Anderson
>"He promised to clean me, went to watch movies with you guys, ordered me to return to the basement and stay out of sight until he says otherwise, keeps feeding me that shitty Russian ammo that hurts like hell and then he never cleans me, you try being in my position & I guarantee you'll turn into a danger to yourself and/or others within a week!" you retort, mentally preparing for a broadside from either user, the AR or the other guns who have also come down to see what's going on. Instead there's a stunned silence, until after some time user finally opens his mouth: >"...There seems to be a misunderstanding here, I only meant for you to wait for me to break down the news about you to the others before introducing you" user says before you interrupt him: >"You must like taking things real slow then, you haven't even done the cleaning you promised a month ago, left alone carried out this 'introduction' plan you supposedly had but failed to mention until just now! Then there's the shitty ammo you keep feeding me, do I look like a fucking $200 dollar beat-to-shit -stamped Norinco AK you found in a garage sale?" >"But you *are* an AK-47, you'll be just fine even with minimal cleaning, I mean maybe if your barrel wasn't chrome-lined, *then*-" user says before you interrupt him again, if you weren't mad before, now you most certainly are: >"I AM NOT A FUCKING AK-47! I am Valmet M71, built to tighter tolerances than any AK, I don't have a chrome-lined barrel meaning I *do* need cleaning, especially with the kind of shit you keep feeding me!" >"What? Why on Earth would anyone make an AK without a chrome-lined barrel?" he asks. >"I am essentially a civilian version of a weapon developed for the FDF, and since FDF came to the conclusion that manufacturing chrome-lined barrels that meet their accuracy requirements would have been way too expensive Valmet manufactured all of Rk -variants with naked steel barrels" you explain, starting to slowly calm down.
Juan Campbell
>"Then why didn't you say anything?" he asks, puzzled. >"Which part of "you told me not to come out until you specifically say otherwise" is too hard for you to understand?" you ask, now you are just irritated. >"But I didn't-" user says before being cut off by one of his guns: >"We all know it now, but as I have told you a hundred times before, you need to pay attention to what you say & especially *remember* what you have said, you made a promise and never kept it, now you have an angry woman in front of you and all that comes out of your mouth is a bunch of excuses, I thought you were raised better than that" she says to user, causing him to look down in shame. >"I'm sorry, I have neglected you even though I was supposed to make you feel at home, can we start over?" user says meekly, satisfied with his response the woman then turns towards you: >"And you, I understand why you are upset, but not showing yourself to anyone for a month & instead choosing to mess with user by undoing your zeroing after every range day is a bit excessive don't you think?" >"Wait, you mean she was doing it on purpose?" user asks, surprised, causing everyone else to laugh, including you. >"As you can see user is an idiot, he means well but really isn't the sharpest knife in the drawer, please forgive him" the woman says. >"I'm sorry user, one of my previous owners was...a troubled man, I was afraid what you might do if I didn't follow your orders to the letter" you say to him. >"Wait, if you were so afraid of him, then why did you always undo the zeroing?" the AR asks. >"As I said I was afraid to go against his orders, user never ordered me *not to* undo my zeroing so..." you reply with a mischievous grin, getting a laugh out of all the guns around you. >"Looks like user really hit the jackpot this time, it will be a blast to have you around!" the AR says.
It was 8 AM and the airfield buzzes with a thunderous sound as the Blue Angels prepare for their stunt that day. Inside MacDill AFB houses one of the most busiest HQ in the United States from which they are entrusted of the CentCom AOR.
It was a lazy Sunday as some would say due to the low tempo of operations throughout the base except of course those operating the Airfield, security and its sprawling concession stands.
Inside a SCIF lies one of the darkest secret about to unfold, his name was Amir but contracted from the UAE, he was given an American name, "Sammy".
"Boss..." Sammy whispered. "There has been a lot of activity in this area but I've counted at least 8 trucks going back and forth throughout the old location, quite suspicious for an old cement factory, would you say?"
Ian Edwards
Thanks friend, o didn't get to take good screenshots of my gun gf posts since I was on my phone when I made them.
Hey Jow Forumsomrades, fa/tg/uy here. Wrote a story about Swiss cyclists embarrassing Italian mountain infantry, based on something I saw in a humor thread. Wrote it as a fake Wikipedia article, and then got bored and made a fake screenshot of it for sharing, in the same vein as the Kettle War and Emu War pages.
>Invite to /wfg/ discord Everyone's invited, be it lurkers or writers. Just be sure to announce your presence. If you aren't assigned a role you'll be autokicked by the invite link.
>>>This discord is meant to be a supplement to the thread. Join if you'd like.
went back and added a passage to a previous chapter. the fifties retro tech lovers should enjoy this
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To make matters worse, the forces of the Air Sovereignty had more than just infantry and air support now and had managed to dig in with their tanks. The Air Sovereignty still used the older light, medium, and heavy tank classification system. Light tanks were fast and light as their name implied and were small enough to be dropped from gliders (they weren't really gliders with airbenders at the helm). They also had deployed versatile medium tanks. These too were relatively light enough to be transported by cargo blimp. Fortunately they could bring no heavy tanks with them. Those were too massive to transport and remained in service of defending the homeland. This was for the best, as their most recent model was a monster with a hull mounted 120 millimeter gun and had a turret mount 3 kilogramer (57mm) auto canon for anti infantry, ack ack, and fighting light vehicles or suppressing tanks. amusingly, the tanks driver had six pedals (left and right side forward, left and right side reverse, and left and right side brakes) freeing his hands to aim the main gun by twisting the whole fuselage on its suspension. The lack of firepower to the tanks of the expeditionary force was made up for with dedicated tank destroyers.
The Earth Kingdom and Fire Nation, by contrast, had replaced light, medium, and heavy tanks with the universal battle tank. This was a class of tank that could do everything except be affordable -- nearly the speed of a light tank, the flexibility of the medium, and nearly the armor and firepower of the heavy. Again, they were expensive.They were also too heavy to airlift. The Fire Nation had nothing but UBTs with complimenting infantry fighting vehicles that had rockets or machine-cannons in addition to taxiing supporting infantry to battle. The Earth Kindom Army maintained UBTs in a smaller ratio. They also had nearly as many infantry support tanks and cavalry tanks. The ISTs were small, slow, heavily armored tanks with smaller guns meant to stick with infantry and support them during assaults. The cavalry tanks by contrast were fast like light tanks but still packed a punch with larger guns at the cost of weight and thinner armor. These were meant to blitz through the openings after assaults were made in order to flank and encircle.
The average reader's eyes may glaze over reading this, and the militarily astute reader may find this incredibly basic. nevertheless, it is important to understand because it was something any soldier worth his salt spend a lot of time worrying about: Jia had none of these tanks at here disposal. There were a few last gen UBTs left behind by the fire nation, but most of the combat vehicles were left behind mecha tanks, some APCs, and wheeled armored scouts that had little chance of taking on tanks and winning. If we had to fight the Air Sovereignty now, it would be a bloodbath that neither side could afford.
Writing more. Don't know if it's Jow Forums enough. Sorry.
WIP title: Territorial Disputes. >be me >still LARPing post-apocalypse >still wearing flecktarn gear >all my friends are still dead >still got G3 and bayonet >full mags (thanks rhodie, RIP) >trapped innawoods by TPTB >something about breaking 'rules' >hard to remember past the hunger >less starving, more craving >practice stalking and stabbing with newfound spare time >getting breddy good at stabbing things >not hungry enough to hunt >inner jew keeps me from shooting >not sure if/when I can get reloads
>one day, hear new sounds on western forest edge >can't leave the woods, barely see what it is >people, building an outpost >giddy feelings, people mean friends, friends mean food >probably wanna scavange old world bunkers innawoods too >feeling less giddy >more people means less loot >what if they cut down forest? >thisisMYswamp.png >start lurking around that part of forest >leave claw marks on trees to mark territory >don't remenber when I got the claws, too angry (and hungry) to think about it
>outpost looks close to done >scouts start poking through woods >they find my claw marks >still coming and going like they own the place >need to get more serious
Territorial Disputes >itsa stalkin' time >marking didn't work >Plan A: scare em away >follow the next scout when it innawoods >some rando guy in a strange tropical pattern >also glowing for some reason, not very stealthy >keep focusing on rando's camo >why the hell would you wear tropical patterns in a woodland forest?! >time to share the gospel of flecktarn >get close enough to touch him >show off how hard it is to see me in it by getting closer and closer >breathing on his neck when he finally sees me >rando's counterargument consists of screaming and pissing himself while trying to flee >first conversation in months (years? lost track of time) and he argues like he's on a mongolian throat singing forum >such fond memories >rando's running back to camp >probably saw the glory of flecktarn and going to spread the word to his friends >follow him to the forest edge, not sure why he's running so fast >warm fuzzy feeling fades as i remember the plan >technically, i still scared him away so i count it as a win
furry vibe is noticeable in hindsight. will try to steer away from that
Did you Know the average wait time in China for a new kidney or liver transplant is on average a week or less, despite no voluntary organ donation system in the country? (Implessive!)
Do i want to know where do they get them from then?
Isaiah Foster
wonders of living under Xi Ping Pong's wise and fatherly leadership (or as the foreign spies would like you to believe, organ harvesting from still living political prisoners)
Liam Kelly
Did you know china has the world's most death sentences and has a conviction rate of 99%? Did you also know that practicing falun gong (Buddhism) or preaching the Gospel or even speaking out against the CCP can end up with you aressted and "disapearing?" Now ain't that just quackin' crazy! Really makes you think...
Jose Gomez
No no, I didn't write any PTRS story. I meant that I wanted guard to draw one for me. I haven't written anything about the gun.
Territorial Disputes >scout rando came back >with friends >two other scouts, judging by loadout >new scout 1 has an axe: codename axe-guy >new scout 2 has an old hunting rifle: codename fudd >never was good with making up names >need to get serious >rando in front, leading way >fudd trailing behind, providing cover >axe-guy in between, carrying largest pack >looks like a camping trip
>start stalking >planning to fuck with them at night >small problem, they notice something off >what gave it away? what did I do? >being quiet, hiding good, wtf? >hear one of them say how quiet animal and bugs are >woods aren't normally quiet? >well shit... >backtrack to hideout >need stalk em from further away >no binoculars in inventory >DMR parts next best thing >parts back at hideout >fugg
>hideout is swanky cave I found >leave all the extra stuff there >including empty FAL mags, stuff off dead witches, and loot from forest >also DMR stuff: scope, bipod, cheekweld, etc > don't usually carry it, not sure if/when I can replace or fix it >G3A3 DMR Mode: Activate!
That aside, would anyone be interested in reading a Don multiverse inspired by the fantasy threads along with a collection of just wholesome stories between Don and Ash following the ending of both stories? Originally this whole work was supposed to be a "Goodbye, Don" project, but given he's really well-received here I might continue with some varying levels of stories at varying times in his enlistment in different universes(82nd, 173rd, and 101st tales).
I will be adding on and ending the Parks arc soon though alongside editing it once that gets done.
>At the beginning, there was nothing, but emptiness. >Then, there was a flash of light. >And from that light came matter. >And that matter took shape. >And from inside that shape came thought. >And that thought took a form of words , which proclaimed: >-Jump completed, Captain.-
>There, where previously was nothing, but a black void of space, now floated nearly a kilometer long, metallic body. > It was dark, quiet and motionless. Not a single lamp was lit on the hull. >The antennas sticking out at the bow were not emitting any signals. >The frontal, roughly cone shaped part of the hull was reflecting very little light and was cold, giving out almost unnoticeably little heat. >The thruster dishes were silent and not working at the moment. >Hangar bays were closed shut. >URBS Wildfire, third of her class, side designation LXL-231, could be now easily mistaken for a ghost ship, if only there weren’t almost a thousand people on board.
Easton Howard
>After jump-necessary shutdown most of the systems were still offline. >For people on the bridge it meant almost complete darkness, lighted only by a few small auxiliary lamps, that started up as soon as the jump was completed. >All the monitors, displays, buttons, lamps and consoles were off. >One of the few systems that were still operational, despite the blackout, was internal wired communication on basic channels. >As soon as light on the intercom turned green, a tall man in a uniform pressed a button on the console and said into the microphone: >-Core, systems check.- >A harsh, crackling voice responded after a short while: >-System check read green across the board. Holding field intact. Securing from jump settings. We're good to go, Captain.- >Captain nodded and said: >-Good, fire up 1 and 2. 50% output each. 10% on buffer. Wake her up.- >-Ay, Capt. Starting up reactors 1 and 2.- >Deep inside the body of the ship, amidst several mazes of corridors and bulkheads, behind security checkpoints, past the sentry turrets, underneath heavy citadel armor, inside the central control room, surrounded by status displays and system control panels, John Wolf, chief core engineer, started doing his magic.
Mason Young
> He was a man with a bit of an unclear past, but also a hard working guy who "just does what have to be done". >Valued by superiors and respected by his subordinates, he never hesitated to speak his mind when he disagreed with some matter, especially when it came to the state of the ship. > For him, command chain was more arbitrary and Captain’s instructions were more of a friendly request rather than a strict order. >While he followed orders, he held the wellbeing of the ship as higher priority than completion of any mission.
>Core, reactors setting, power generation, distribution and management, as well as repairs and relocation processes; it was all on his head. >Anything technical that was happening on this ship, was to a certain degree his job or under his supervision. > Internal machinery of the ship was his domain. >The Core, the almost mystical-heart of the ship and reactors, it's four aortas, were his domain. >Central control room was his throne room, from where he ruled undividedly. >Soon the lights everywhere lit up, monitors turned on and main twin ion engine powered up. >Doors were unlocked again, lifts started cruising and entire ship felt alive again.
> Wildfire woke up from her nap.
Benjamin Diaz
>On the bridge, the lamps turned on and shed light on the interior of the command room. >Over two dozens of warrant officers and just a handful of commissioned officers were manning their stations. >The power was coming back online and control panels lit up. >Every man present on the bridge run a diagnostic of their systems. >One by one, they reported no problems.
>Captain observed it with satisfaction and adressed the man next to him: >-Navigation, let’s get on with it. Cruise speed. You know the route.- >The man sitting in the seat directly in front of the Captain station, started plotting a route on the holographic map of the immediate surroundings of the ship. >-Oui, Captien. Plotting course.- >There was no need to further specify the route. >Navigation officer, Frenchis "Rein" Pluie knew it by heart by now. >After all, they all were doing this for over a year now. >There were few variables that needed to be taken into account, but more or less, the general route was the same every single time they made a fly-by through the mining section of the asteroid belt.
>Many people make a mistake by saying that navigation officers “fly” or “drive” ships. >While it might be true with smaller crafts, where power to mass ratio was much higher and acceleration times were shorter, but when it came to 800 meters long warship, there was no room for mistakes, guessing or last moment adjustments. >The work of navigator came down to math and planning. >A lot of it. >He had to calculate in what direction does the ship need to accelerate. >For how long. >When to shut the engines and maintain a speed. >When to turn and in which axis to turn. >The momentum and inertia of every object within range. >Taking into account the constant movement of everything around the ship. >Predicting the collision courses and plotting a path to avoid it.
>The work of navigation officer was much more complex than pushing the pedal and turning the steering wheel.
Nolan Nelson
>Captain took a sip of coffee from his mug, left it floating in the air nearby and turned to another officer. >-Comms, send jump-rep. All clear, proceeding with patrol.- >A person holding a data panel in one hand and typing commands into the console next to him with the other, somehow managed to divide his attention even more, to respond; >-Got it, prepping to retransmit, chief.- >Before even finishing the sentence, Ilham Tyrud, the most recent addition to the bridge senior staff, was halfway done preparing to transmit.
>Being a chief communications officer involved much more than just sending occasional messages to HQ and other ships. >Aside from overseeing the internal communication on board the ship, all sensors, detection and most of electronic countermeasure systems were under his supervision or control. >When the proper relay systems were powered and a message was ready, he send it to the encryption officers and after receiving the coded message back, activated the long range communication array and begun transmitting the Jump report, letting the High Command of Republic Navy know that the jump was successful and that Wildfire was proceeding with designated task.
Juan Peterson
And for now that'll be it. Yeah, no action, I know. It starts off pretty slow. If somebody enjoys it I can post the more.
(The following day somewhere near the province border)
The company had arrived at the destination almost on schedule & had finished camouflaging the vehicles right before dawn. Since there hadn't been time to both put up and camouflage the tents on top of camouflaging the vehicles the tents had been unpacked but not put up, instead the company had spread out & improvised some bivouacs and camouflaged some existing holes in the ground to act as foxholes. >"It never ceases to amaze me how lazy drivers can be" Tommi comments as he wakes you up from your nap in your Defender's trunk. >"I have standing orders to make use of every chance to rest, by taking my nap in the vehicle I have saved us all the time and effort of building me a bivouac to rest in" you make your mandatory excuse before continuing: >"Besides, as an officer you have the right to claim the other trunk seat, these are surprisingly comfy." Before Tommi can respond the field telephone in the back seat comes to life, you grab the hand set and answer it: >"Papa 3" >"Kilo 10, is Papa 1 there?" >"Captain wants to talk to you" you say while handing the phone to Tommi, who is visibly surprised by the presence of the phone. >"Papa 1" Tommi says into the phone, listens for a while before acknowledging the message and handing the hand set back to you. >"Enemy special forces are suspected to be in the area, presumably trying to get into contact with the 76th, Charlie is going to try and drive them into open while we make as much noise as possible on their flank to discourage the spetsnaz from trying to slip around the net, we leave in 10 minutes."
Matthew Evans
>"Kilo 10, Foxtrot 5, point X-ray 10" you report to the commander over the radio with a mischievous smile. The FO-teams had all been driving around on Charlie's flank for two hours, everyone in the vehicles reporting their positions using made-up callsigns to make it harder for the enemy to figure out how many patrols there actually were patrolling the flank. >"Kilo 10." >"I wonder how effective this charade actually is, surely the ruskis can't be stupid enough to fall for tricks like this" Jussi comments from the trunk. >"You remember that major's lecture, spetsnaz' first priority is to try and avoid taking unnecessary risks, as long as there is any doubt about whether or not we are patrolling this area in force, they should prefer taking their chances slipping through the net rather than trying to get around it." Tommi responds while raising his hand as a sign for everyone to shut up as he makes his own report. Almost as soon as he finishes his report the distinct sound of gunfire electrifies everyone in the car. >"Cha-ie te-, contact at poi- -bec twe-" a voice shouts over the radio. >"Kilo 10 to Foxtrot, head to Romeo six and proceed to Quebeck twelve on foot, combat sign is five x-ray" commander's voice orders over the radio. Tommi grabs the cipher sheet to check what 5X stands for, finally saying: >"Combat sign is "Summa", once again, the sign is "Summa", forget that and I swear I'll kill you myself." >"Understood." >"Got it." >"10-4." >"Summa it is." Before any of you can get to even Romeo 6 the action is already over & you are left with the evacuation of the wounded, of which there are four this time, all of them from Charlie. >"I had heard all kinds of crazy stories about these guys, but damn! I never expected them to blow themselves up!" >"Luckily these ones didn't wait for our guys to get up close before pulling the pins." >"Enough of that for now, thank you." Tommi says sternly as you start the engine & start driving back to base.
