b4rkwoofwrites

[b4rkwoofwrites]

Okay ill start with the plot soon. It'll be updated a lot slower since its a side project, but you can always have FaF!!

[b4rkwoofwrites]

🍒 ─ ˙˖ ࿔ Fear and Forgiveness ɞ° 𓈒

۶ৎ original story | oc story | wlw | angst | fluff | slice of life | friends to strangers | friends to lovers | long term project | fanfic

CHAPTER 1: Different This Time by Cornelia Murr

۶ৎ GENERAL WARNINGS: this chapter does not contain anything graphic.

۶ৎ 1,390 word count

۶ৎ status: posted on ao3 🤎

October 2nd.

Days passed peacefully, still offering that soft domestic tone Irene and Scarlette lived for. Conversations of honesty and truth revealed how both of them thought without each other, they’d be alone, unable to find somewhere safe in a way that was more than physical.

It was a Tuesday, meaning both of them would have to work. Most days, Scarlette’s job was quiet and smelled of baked goods. She worked at a bookstore with a small bakery that she always got breakfast at. She started early, but got to leave before the sun set. Irene, however, worked a very different job. Despite not being one to drink, she was a bartender at a local place, not to far from the apartment. She left late and got home early, except on Wednesdays since she didnt work that day.

Around 9 PM, Irene was getting ready for work. Scarlette’s eyes wandered over her as she put on her makeup. Irene loved it, how Scarlette watched her do things like this, and with those eyes as well. Her usual expression was soft, but when she looked at Irene it was softer, and those gentle colors that swirled in her eyes.. the blue in one, teal and green in the other..

Before Irene knew it, she was finished and had to leave. She offered Scarlette a soft hug and in return, she walked with her all the way to the front door. With that, Irene slipped into her work personality and went off. She rode in a taxi, texting the group she usually worked with that she was on the way. The arrival was always daunting, hours of the night ahead around people dancing, drunk, throwing up.. but it was fun, and something she was used to. She walked in and got to work.

The job wasn’t too hard, but it wasn’t exactly easy. After months of working to perfect her skills, it was practically second nature at this point. The hardest part of the job was weirdos. Asking her out wasn’t all that bad, she could decline nicely and move on. But when people started to persist with less than appropriate comments.. that’s when it got annoying. It took a lot of time to practice tuning them out. Their begging, uncomfortable fantasies, rude swears when they realized she couldn’t care less.. it was all just apart of work for her. Tonight was no different.. the loudness of the music, the friendly girls girls, the frat boys who really need a shower, the quiet, shy people who stick to the walls like it’s their lifeline.. and some guy. Some random, out of place guy.

“Hey, can I get an Old Fashioned?” The man sat down in front of her. He was strong looking, but his voice held a slight aura of mystery and sweetness. Irene nodded, “Of course, I’ll get that made for you,” she began to work softly, paying a bit more attention than normal to his words. “Your hair is beautiful, you know that? Most women dont have hair of that allure.”

Irene paused mentally, trying to decipher his words into intentions. He spoke.. unusually, and it was a bit hard to understand how having her hair in a ponytail did all that. She decided to humor him, just because he was being nice so far. “Thank you, that’s a bit of a new one.” Her voice kept a slight authority in it, for the sake of holding power in the conversation.

“Oh yeah?” The mans voice was smooth as she slipped the drink to him and he took sip. “I never got your name.” He was trying to be charming. It wasn’t working. Tonight’s shift was pretty boring.. maybe this would make it at least a little bit fun. “My name is Irene,” her voice lost some of its authority, trying to convince him she took his sweet words.

“Have you got a boyfriend, Irene? Because if not, I can make your life full of things you’ve never even dreamt of.” Irene chuckled at this, who was this guy? Who did he think he was.. and how was he doing this. With the promise of what Irene could only assume being riches, she was a bit intrigued. The man was dressed in a suit, which to anyone would’ve been extremely weird in the setting. “Why are you here?” Her voice held a bit of anger, but he didn’t know why. He didn’t know about her feelings for Scarlette, the fear of losing her, oe the hurt Irene was scared to experience dating somebody other than her.

He laughed a deep, hearty laugh.

“I come here after work with my colleagues, sometimes my clients. I’ve seen you, and I wanted to stop by and say hello.”

“In a suit?”

“I wanted to leave a good impression on a pretty lady, is that so wrong now?”

Irene couldn’t help but smile. Some rich guy practically scouted her out and was trying to romance her. “You’re a charmer, you know that?” She spoke as she mixed another drink for someone else.

“Only for you,” his eyes stared into her, but not with hard lust, closer to careful adoration.

She smiled. They continued their conversation for a few more minutes before Irene decided on a final conclusion. “Look, my shift doesnt end until 2 AM. I can take your number and when I get home, I’ll text.” The man shook his head. “I’d be crazy to leave someone as pretty as you all by her lonesome. Let me stay with you, I insist,” his voice had a slight begging tone, but it wasn’t quite annoying. Just.. it was hard to understand. Irene sighed, considering it as she continued to make drinks for various people of various backgrounds, experiencing their various lives. “Fine,” she said with slight defeat. “Only because you’ve been real sweet to talk to, considering other people who ask me out.” He smiled in response, with a grateful nod. “Maybe,” Irene thought, wanting to push the thought away for comfort. “Maybe I could try this.”

The two spoke for the rest of the time while she worked, and she gave him drink after drink each time he finished, and he never seemed to get drunk. Her shift seemed shorter as it ended and the two walked out. “You shouldn’t take me all the way to your house,” he said cautiously. “I dont see why I would,” she responded easily. “Just saying, I understand how some random man knowing where you live would be less than ideal.” Irene smiled softly.

“You might not be so random soon,”

Scarlette was knocked out in bed, snoring and cuddling her stuffed animal her love bought her. Only a few hours from having to work, she dreamt of thick pastries, cream filled and soft, as well as her darling Irene. The woman who made it all worthwhile.

Irene walked in the house, smiling softly and thinking about the nice conversations she had with the man. She smiled a bit more when she saw Scarlette, sleeping soundly in their bed. She quietly went to the bathroom, taking off the foundation and concealer she had, as well as trying her best to get all her mascara and eyeliner, flinching when it got in her eye. She slipped into the shower to wash the smell of alcohol off of her and she put on her favorite silk pajamas, the pair Scarlette gifted her last Christmas.

She slipped into bed, curling up around the woman she fell in love with years ago, the woman she thought she truly could never have. She slightly cursed the promise they made all those years ago in childhood. The promise to stay together, to live like family. It’s what made this so hard, living together like they were in love, without knowing if they really were. It was infuriating, especially on days when they’d flirt constantly, joking or not, it was always impossible to tell.

But one thing she knew as she fell asleep stayed with her. She didn’t want to keep living in this pain, in the feel in one-sided love, in fear. So she’d keep talking to the guy, Alexander, keep exploring the details of his life, even if it pulled her away from her true love, her darling Red.

[b4rkwoofwrites]

Fic Update

Finished the second chapter of Fear and Forgiveness, ill post it some time tommorow! If this gets to 10 notes ill finish chapter three and post it tommorow aswell!!

[b4rkwoofwrites]

🍒 ─ ˙˖ ࿔ Fear and Forgiveness ɞ° 𓈒

۶ৎ original story | oc story | wlw | angst | fluff | slice of life | friends to strangers | friends to lovers | long term project | fanfic

PROLOGUE: Bed by Hana Stretton

۶ৎ GENERAL WARNINGS: this chapter does not contain anything graphic.

۶ৎ 1,620 word count

۶ৎ status: posted on ao3 🤎

September 23rd.

Comfortable sunlight trickled up and filled the windows, and the red curtains cast a dark, sensual glow over the room. It was safe, it always was. Irene sighed softly as she turned, moving closer to Scarlette. In the light of the sun, Scarlette stretched and slipped Irene back down onto her pillow. “I’ll make biscuits,” she murmured to her friend as she left the room. For about a year now, they’d lived together. Bad family situations and years of bonding formed the perfect circumstances. The friendship the two harbored was.. complex. Nothing was to much to share, and they were close enough to share a bed. The relationship was so warm.. so healing. It was heaven to live with a friend you loved this much.

Scarlette flinched at the smell of smoke, running from the living room back to the kitchen. She let out a harsh sigh as she opened the oven as well as the windows in their apartment. All that daydreaming didn’t do her any favors, especially considering their burnt breakfast. Irene peeked out from their bedroom. “What happened, Red?” Her voice was kind, with that relaxed tone she kept since childhood. Scarlette sighed softly, pulling the biscuits out of the oven and sat them on the stove to air out. “Got caught up in my head and..” her voice trailed off. Irene just nodded, going to rub her back. This wouldn’t be the first time she fell into her thoughts and lost track of time. After a moment, Irene’s eyes met Scarlette’s. “How about we go to that cafe? You said you wanted to try the honey donuts,” Irene was always like this, caring and trying to distract from the bad or atleast trying to do what they can in the moment. Scarlette nodded, her eyes giving away slight guilt as the two went to their bedroom to get ready.

They left the apartment with a blur of laughs. The walk there was nice, especially because the weather was just starting to cool off. They felt a few droplets of rain fall onto them occasionally, so they walked a little faster. They arrived not long after they left, and they waited quietly in line. Conversations were exchanged all around them, and the smell of coffee and tea and all things morning swirled around the small, pretty cafe. When they ordered, the lady was pretty nice, but the kind of nice that you know is just.. to nice. They sat down at a table by the window, watching as the sprinkle of water turned into rain.

“Y’know, Irie,” Scarlette started with a soft voice. “We never finished that show, I forgot the name.. I don’t know, the one you loved.” Irene paused to think for a moment. “The mystery one? With the murder?” Scarlette nodded quickly at that, and Irene smiled. “You’re right, we didn’t finish it. Maybe we can watch it later tonight.” Irene pulled at her long dress, adjusting it. Scarlette loved seeing her wear it, it was perfect. The dark purple, almost black color, the high cut neckline that still couldn’t stop Scarlette from staring, the way it hugged her curves, even if some days Irene was insecure about them..

“Red, you’re doing it again,”

“Huh? Shit, sorry-”

“Order for Irene!”

Irene stood softly, offering a soft smile as she went to grab their food and drinks. Scarlette couldn’t move. She was stuck. “I cant keep thinking like this… I cant.. well, she wouldn’t. Would she?” Her thoughts were pushed aside when her best friend, her roommate, sat down with her and split the food. They spoke between bites, about recipes, movies, essays, everything they knew to love.

The rain poured down and the taste of honey and syrup stuck to their lips. They stood outside the cafe under the hood, waiting for a taxi. After a moment, they called one over and got inside. The ride was mostly quiet, scrolling on their phones and sending each other videos. When they arrived at their building, they went up to their apartment. The smell of burnt biscuits was pretty much gone, but the presence of smoke was still evident. Irene helped Scarlette clean the mess left, and they went to relax in bed together.

This was routine for the two, every other Saturday, they’d spend time together, planning out the next two weeks, sharing things they learned, sometimes just sleeping all day. It was ideal, comfortable, with someone they cared for.

This particular Saturday, they were just going to relax until dinner. Not much happened on days like this, movies, mostly. Although, there wasnt a lot of watching movies on this particular day. Irene gazed into Scarlette’s eyes. She was distracted on her phone. “I live with you. That is so fucking crazy, how did I end up living with you. I used to want to kiss you, and now we just.. live together. As friends. As friends..” her moment of mental reflection was cut short as Scarlette glanced at her, looking a bit surprised. “You okay, Irie?” Irene only nodded.

The rest of the day, they practically took turns doing this. That was, until around 4 PM. Irene had forgotten to buy a few things they needed for tonight’s dinner, so she went out to get it. Scarlette was fine with it, I mean she’d be back in maybe half an hour. But as minutes passed, her recommended videos became suspiciously homosexual.

Scarlette’s heart started to clench, it felt like it was being ripped out of her chest. Her breath quickened and she cuddled into the sheets, wishing Irene was there. Wishing her love, the beautiful, caring, goddess of a woman would come back home.. from buying groceries. “This is ridiculous.” Scarlette sobbed, laughing a little, trying to rationalize this panic, this pain. But she couldn’t. It was an overreaction in her eyes, but she couldn’t help it. The feeling of being so far away, even if they’d see eachother again. The feeling that they’ll never be close enough. That they need to share blood, flesh, merge their souls until they collide and they are one. Scarlette cried, whimpered, curled into herself for that half hour. Over something that wasn’t even that bad. Over missing someone who’ll be back soon. But that was okay, because it only proved to her how much she loved her best friend.

It was a part of this love that she hated, but lived for. The painful kind, the one that killed you inside until the other came home to you, the kind that made you hide your true feelings out of fear. Fear of ruining what you already have. Fear of getting to close maybe, of messing up. Fear of losing someone you’re in love with.

The front door opened. Scarlette scrambled to wipe her eyes and get out of bed. She greeted Irene with a warm hello and a hug that was just a bit to long. The two unloaded the few groceries as they talked about what they were making. Just pasta and chicken, nothing to complicated. Usually, one of them would do the main part of the meal and the other would help with smaller things, but Irene wanted Scarlette to help a bit more. Irene knew her Red very well, and she knew something was wrong, even if it was small. Usually, time together helped them both.

Irene started on the chicken while Scarlette put water on the stove to boil and started on the sauce. Cooking was a release for both of them. Something domestic to do together, to make life more love filled. Cooking for someone to fuel them. Exchanging your energy for theirs. Is there anything more loving than that? To make sure your loved one is well fed, kept full and safe, knowing they’ll have meals, home-cooked some days and others not, but love filled nonetheless? The thought filled Irene’s mind. It was one of her favorite pastimes to cook for the girl she loved. The girl she wanted, the one she dreamt of, the one she was scared of losing.

Time passed, small talk was exchanged, and dinner was ready and plated, sitting on the coffee table in the living room. The two sat on the floor, watching the show they talked about earlier that day in the cafe. The food was good, filling, if not a tad bit over seasoned. It happened sometimes, and the world keeps spinning. The show was good, especially this episode. One of the side characters was being kidnapped and the group went to save her. Irene thought about how distraught she’d be if Scarlette was kidnapped or hurt. Either way, the night fell darker and more quiet, and the girls went to get ready for the evening.

Considering their closeness, they didnt care if one brushed their teeth while the other showered less than ten feet away, infact, it was pretty normal for them. Whoever was in the shower got music privileges—which was fine, they had both gotten used to the others’ music taste—while the other would brush their teeth, do skincare, etc…

Around 7 PM, the two were in bed, doing their respective activities. Scarlette was doing Sudoku in her little book, while Irene was reading the new series she bought recently. Soft music played, music that to anyone with eyes would make the two of them look romantic, a couple listening to sensual music, getting ready for bed.. but as they closed their eyes later that night, they were nothing more than friends. Friends that were scared. Scared of messing up, of losing each other..

And of the love they both bathed in each night in their dreams.

[b4rkwoofwrites]

the suffering never ends

[b4rkwoofwrites]

Small fantasy worldbuilding elements you might want to think about:

A currency that isn’t gold-standard/having gold be as valuable as tin

A currency that runs entirely on a perishable resource, like cocoa beans

A clock that isn’t 24-hours

More or less than four seasons/seasons other than the ones we know

Fantastical weather patterns like irregular cloud formations, iridescent rain

Multiple moons/no moon

Planetary rings

A northern lights effect, but near the equator

Roads that aren’t brown or grey/black, like San Juan’s blue bricks

Jewelry beyond precious gems and metals

Marriage signifiers other than wedding bands

The husband taking the wife's name / newlyweds inventing a new surname upon marriage

No concept of virginity or bastardry

More than 2 genders/no concept of gender

Monotheism, but not creationism

Gods that don’t look like people

Domesticated pets that aren’t re-skinned dogs and cats

Some normalized supernatural element that has nothing to do with the plot

Magical communication that isn’t Fantasy Zoom

“Books” that aren’t bound or scrolls

A nonverbal means of communicating, like sign language

A race of people who are obligate carnivores/ vegetarians/ vegans/ pescatarians (not religious, biological imperative)

I’ve done about half of these myself in one WIP or another and a little detail here or there goes a long way in reminding the audience that this isn’t Kansas anymore.

[b4rkwoofwrites]

｡ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ。 ﾟ。　 october prompts

　ﾟ･｡･ﾟ

¹⁾ thick, acrid smoke

²⁾ sore shoulders

³⁾ rose-scented candles burnt down to the wick

⁴⁾ a members’ only club

⁵⁾ rotted wooden fenceposts

⁶⁾ sour lemon candies

⁷⁾ hand-rolled cigarettes 

⁸⁾ blue-hued bruises

⁹⁾ the taste of honey from someone else’s lips

¹⁰⁾ cold hands

¹¹⁾ dollar store sunglasses

¹²⁾ a weathered leather jacket

¹³⁾ slept-in makeup

¹⁴⁾ the conversations had after last call

¹⁵⁾ a lone silver earring

¹⁶⁾ the imprint of a boot between shoulder blades

¹⁷⁾ spiced cologne

¹⁸⁾ bitter dark chocolate

¹⁹⁾ a second place ribbon

²⁰⁾ icy grey irises

²¹⁾ a bodyguard’s earpiece 

²²⁾ a turquoise-tiled pool

²³⁾ glitter dusted across bare skin

²⁴⁾ someone doing up your seatbelt for you

²⁵⁾ warm tequila in a coffee mug

²⁶⁾ a roll of yellow crime scene tape

²⁷⁾ pearlescent oyster shells

²⁸⁾ cuban coffee

²⁹⁾ the seventh highest floor in a skyscraper

³⁰⁾ incensed prayer beads

³¹⁾ the backseat of a taxi

[b4rkwoofwrites]

COUGHHHH i don't know why I'm saving this haha (ahem)

Do you think in the omegaverse there’s a new, awful layer to “the talk” that teens get

[b4rkwoofwrites]

CoD/Military Writing Reference Masterlist

Here is a compilation of information (with references/links/citations) that I think the CoD fandom and fic writers in particular might find useful:

British Army:

Here is a list of ranks and abbreviations (with appropriate capitalization) (for anyone with the shinigami extension, sorry, it's the BBC)

Here is a list of the equivalent ranks of the British services and US Air Force (for some reason not the US Army or US Navy. Don’t ask me why lmao).

Here and here are some posts about the ranks in the 141 and general attitudes that they would hold for each other (and how others would see them)

Here is a detailed breakdown of the British Army organization (with average numbers and who is in charge of who).

Here is the wiki page for British Army uniforms (literally good luck, I’ve spent hours trying to figure out when soldiers wear what). As far as I can tell, the 141 would wear the No. 8 Combat Dress 90% of the time with the SAS beige beret. For formal events, they would wear the No. 2 Service Dress with berets instead of peaked forage caps. Interestingly, the Royal Regiment of Scotland can wear their No. 2 Service Dress with kilts (which I know Johnny would be livid about because he can’t). Super formal occasions are marked by the No. 1 Temperate Ceremonial, or “dress blues”.

Commissioned ranks are Second Lieutenant and above. These are members who hold positions of authority granted by formal documents of appointment signed by the monarch. In the US (which I am assuming is the same or similar in the UK), a commissioned officer has gone through officer training, which usually requires a university degree or a military equivalent.

Warrant Officers (WO) and Non-Commissioned Officers (NCO) are included in the enlisted ranks. They are members of the enlisted ranks who hold positions of authority. WOs are granted authority through a warrant instead of a commission and must be promoted from an NCO rank. NCOs are Lance Corporals to Staff Sergeants.

The only enlisted rank is Private. These are members who have enlisted and have gone through basic training in order to be counted against the Army’s trained strength.

Sergeants (Gaz and Soap) are among the highest-ranked NCOs and therefore have a lot of practical experience (more, sometimes, than commissioned officers). They have climbed through the ranks from Private all the way to the top of the enlisted ladder. Commissioned officers, on the other hand, have the option to skip the enlisted ladder altogether and jump straight to Second Lieutenant (assuming that they are entering the army with a university degree). However, it is canon that both Ghost and Price were promoted from enlisted ranks. Nevertheless, the NCO/CO divide would be stark; Price and Ghost both have pieces of paper signed by the Royal Crown that give them authority while Gaz and Soap don’t. That being said, Gaz and Soap are incredibly high ranking enlisted while Ghost and Price are (relatively) low ranking officers. While they have less authority, they have similar levels of responsibility and leadership.

Comm discipline is incredibly important in the military. Communication must be clear, concise, and (most importantly) unambiguous. There are many, many commands that can be given over the radio and some of them aren't as self-explanatory as they may seem. Here are some of the basics, lingo, etiquette, and FAQs about military radio communications.

SAS:

The SAS is nicknamed "The Regiment", its motto is "Who Dares Wins", and its color is pompadour blue. Contrary to popular belief, the dagger on the badge is wreathed in flame, not wings.

"The SAS is the mirror in which other special forces reflect." The SAS is the most elite special forces regiment in the world and they all know it. They take their jobs incredibly seriously and are held to a ridiculously high standard, both by their superior officers and by themselves. The 141, as a specialized task force, would take both their training and their commitment to their job to the extreme. The SAS has a fierce reputation of being the blueprints upon which every other special forces regiment was founded, and every single one of them takes an incredible amount of pride in that. It's easy to characterize Soap as a rookie, especially because of his reputation as the Perpetual FNG, but he alone could run circles around every single non-special forces soldier in the world (and a hell of a lot of the special forces soldiers, too).

The SAS consists of one regular and two reserve units. The 22 SAS (regular) is based in Stirling Lines, Credenhill, Herefordshire and has five squadrons (A, B, D, G, and Reserve) and a training wing. The 21 and 23 SAS are the two reserve regiments.

The UK Special Forces do not recruit from the general public. All current members of the armed forces can apply for Special Forces selection, but most have historically come from the Royal Marines or Parachute Regiment. In 2018, recruitment policy changed to allow women to join the SAS for the first time and in 2021, two women passed pre-selection, making them the first women eligible for the full course.

The SAS Selection Process is held twice a year (once in summer and once in winter) and is a three-phase process that has an 8-10% pass rate. Between 2014 and 2022, there were more deaths in training and exercises than in combat against active threats.

Phase 1 is an endurance test, known as “the hills” stage, where candidates undergo a series of timed hikes between checkpoints with increasingly heavy packs. This phase takes a total of three weeks and culminates in a 40-mile hike carrying 55lbs that must be completed in 24 hours. By the end of this phase, candidates must be able to run 4 miles in 30 minutes and swim 2 miles in 90 minutes.

Officers undergoing SAS selection have a week-long phase which assesses their ability to plan operations while fatigued and stressed (sucks for Price and Ghost; Gaz and Soap would've skipped this step).

Phase 2 is Jungle Training, which takes place in Belize, Brunei, or Malaysia. Candidates are taught navigation, patrol formation and movement, and jungle survival skills; they are put into teams of four, where they simulate living for weeks behind enemy lines, living completely off of rations without a lifeline back to base.

Phase 3 is E&E (Escape and Evasion) and TQ (Tactical Questioning)/RTI (Resistance to Interrogation). This is the final phase. Candidates are given brief instructions on appropriate techniques (likely from former POWs or special forces soldiers) and then are let loose in the countryside, where they must navigate to a series of checkpoints without being captured. After 3-7 days, whether they have been captured or not, they then report for TQ, which tests the candidates’ ability to resist interrogation. During TQ, candidates are only allowed to answer with “the big 4” (name, rank, serial number, and birthday) and all other questions must be answered with “I’m sorry but I cannot answer that question” while being subjected to what is essentially no-touch torture (listening to white noise for hours, standing in stress positions, being verbally berated/humiliated, etc) for 36 hours.

After all of that, candidates are accepted into the SAS ranks, but still go through continuation training, during which many SAS soldiers are RTU’d (returned to unit).

The youngest person to ever (IRL) pass SAS selection was Lofty Wiseman in 1959 at the age of 18. In order for Johnny to have beaten that record, he must have been 18 or younger when he passed selection. Given that the minimum age for enlistment in the UK armed forces is 16, this is entirely plausible.

The names of regular SAS members who have died on duty were inscribed on the regimental clock tower at Stirling Lines, which was rebuilt at the Credenhill barracks. Those whose names are inscribed are said by surviving members to have "failed to beat the clock". The base of the clock is also inscribed with a verse from The Golden Journey to Samarkand by James Elroy Flecker.

Military Life:

During basic training, soldiers live in gender-segregated accommodations in a dorm-style room. Once out of basic training, however, many barracks are individual rooms with en-suite bathrooms (big win for our Sergeants). At most, trained soldiers would live in 4-person rooms separated by gender. The fastest and most reliable way to get off-base housing is to get married, but many commissioned officers get a housing stipend in order to move out of the barracks, meaning that Ghost and Price would likely (if they so chose) have houses near Credenhill, while Gaz and Soap would have individual rooms in the barracks. While deployed, all bets are off.

Many tattoos and piercings are permitted by the British Army. Here are the official guidelines. In terms of hair style/length, the rules are few and far between and incredibly vague to boot. As far as I can tell, Soap’s mohawk, Price’s sideburns, and Ghost's... everything are vastly out of regulations, so I wouldn’t be too concerned about any of the 141 following personal appearance guidelines (Gaz is likely the only 141 member within regs which is a little shocking considering most military regulations are unfairly biased against people of color, but that's neither here nor there). If you’re interested, here is the 2021 version of the guidelines, though many of them have been updated since.

As of 2002, unmarried service members are permitted to invite their partners to stay overnight in single-room barracks (again, big win for our Sergeants). However, these guests must report to the duty and sign in, which is a hassle, so sneaking someone on base is still a plausible course of action.

Unfortunately, I can’t find any information on the use of alcohol/drugs in barracks, but I assume that the regulations are similar to those of the US armed forces, where alcohol is permitted to any off-duty member (any member who is on authorized leave) above the legal drinking age.

Humor: military humor has a pretty infamous reputation for being dark as fuck. Soldiers joke about a lot of stuff because they deal with a lot of stuff, and humans naturally cope through humor. There aren’t a lot of resources for this, because soldiers don’t like that kind of stuff reaching civilian ears (for pretty obvious reasons). Active special forces soldiers like the 141 would have especially fucked up senses of humor because they deal with especially fucked up scenarios. Don’t push yourself for the sake of realism, though; if you aren’t comfortable writing jokes about active hostage/bomb/terrorist situations, don’t write those jokes. However, if you think of a fantastically dark joke and want to include it, know that it would be perfectly in character (especially for Ghost) and true to real life. They absolutely would casually joke with each other about racism, homophobia, xenophobia, war crimes, torture, etc. The important part is that they all know that it’s always a joke; shared humor is one of the most common ways that soldiers bond with each other, and being able to take the piss with each other is key to unit cohesion. If you don’t like that or if that makes you uncomfortable, don’t write it!

Fraternization: In general, fraternization is strictly prohibited. It’s grounds for a reassignment at best and a court martial at worst. One or both parties may be dishonorably discharged. Realistically, any relationship between anyone in the 141 (with the exception of Soap and Gaz, who are of equal rank and therefore their relationship does not affect the chain of command, big win for SoapGaz shippers) would be strictly prohibited and treated as a criminal offense. It is up to you whether your characterization of the 141 members warrants any action upon the discovery of fraternization or if it would be ignored in favor of keeping the team together. An argument could be made either way, so it’s a judgment call.

Call Signs:

The IRL SAS does not use call signs; they are almost universally used for pilots across all military divisions, which means that regular soldiers, even those in Special Forces, don't get call signs. However, as the CoD universe evidently uses call signs, here are some things you should know:

No one really knows how call signs originated. Some say that they started as nicknames given to pilots in the early days of flight. Others say that they originated as a way for ground control to quickly and easily refer to pilots over the radio. In any case, call signs have cemented themselves firmly in aviation culture

Call signs are not supposed to be cool. Ghost in an anomaly. The vast majority of people are not given call signs like Maverick or Iceman. A call sign is supposed to be (playfully) teasing and embarrassing; it's what the military calls "humility culture". They are often a derivative of a last name, based on physical features or personality, or related to a mistake the soldier made early in their career.

A call sign, once given, is rarely changed. Call signs follow soldiers for the entirety of their careers and beyond, and it is not unusual for fellow soldiers to only know each other by their rank, call sign, and last name (some can go their entire careers without knowing each others first names; a call sign basically replaces a soldiers first name).

Call signs are voted on and chosen by the soldier's squadron; they have very little (if any) say in the process. The squadron's commanding officer has the ability to veto a proposed call sign and often will if it crosses any lines (racist, sexist, etc) or if it isn't funny enough.

Here is a forum of US Naval call signs and their stories. I highly recommend giving it a read, especially if you need name ideas or a good laugh

General Writing Reference:

Resource for describing physical things (settings, weather, colors, textures, shapes)

Sickness Descriptors

Keeping Tenses (one of the most common writing mistakes in fic writing; this blog has a lot of very informative writing tip posts!)

WordHippo (One of the best dictionary/thesaurus/rhyming dictionary websites I've found and unfailingly keep open while writing/editing)

Tumblr account dedicated to writing characters of color

Tumblr thread with resources/references for international clothes and other items

Tumblr post with links to building/architectural terms and references

Tumblr post with links to helpful writing websites/resources (reverse dictionary, translator, body language, etc)

Misc Helpful Links (Will be Updated):

https://www.eliteukforces.info/special-air-service/ (detailed information about the SAS, selection, training, operations, weaponry, skills, and roles)

https://www.nam.ac.uk/explore/british-army-ranks (British Army ranks in order with brief descriptions of roles/responsibilities)

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_British_Army_installations (List of British Army bases and barracks, both in the UK and overseas)

https://www.quora.com/Does-the-British-Army-really-have-mixed-dorms-as-in-the-TV-show-Our-Girl (Quora forum detailing British military barrack living conditions)

https://taskandpurpose.com/news/military-pilots-call-signs/ (Blog post about aviator call signs and their use in military culture)

https://www.military.com/history/history-of-aviator-call-signs-and-how-pilots-get-their-new-name.html (Blog post about the history of aviator call signs in the military)

https://www.tumblr.com/sighmurderbot/735894836939472896/are-you-like-me-suddenly-obsessed-with-cod-and (Tumblr post - CoD mission generator)

https://www.army.mil/ranks/ (lots of very helpful information about US Army enlisted, warrant, and officer ranks as well as corps and division sizes/operations. Whoever designed this website needs a raise tbh)

If you found this useful, feel free to drop a like! I like knowing that my hard work is being used and appreciated!

[b4rkwoofwrites]

Quiet Mornings with Jinx

CHAPTER III

You sighed as you closed Silco's office door. Jinx had already started walking to the kitchen. "Smells like eggs, Sevika's probably making food." Your face contorted. "Sevika?" Jinx only laughed, grabbing your hand and walking into the dining room. Sevika was in fact, making breakfast, and it smelled really good. You never thought Sevika could cook for whatever reason. Jinx sat you down at the dining table and went over to talk to Sevika. You didn't really listen to the conversation, but Sevika's voice seemed gruff as usual.

Jinx came back with two plates of food, setting yours down and going to sit next to you. You both stuffed your faces, Jinx being a bit messier than you with syrup all over her mouth. It was hot, freshly cooked, and tasted delicous. After the night you had, this was perfect.

Sevika had moved to the living room to watch some old TV show, but Jinx found the background noise to be annoying. "You still tired?" Her mouth was full as she spoke. You nodded, getting up and putting your plate in the sink. Jinx followed after you, cleaning up after you, washing her hands, and cleaning her plate. The two of you walked back to her workshop and collapsed onto the bed. "Okay, noooow we have time to cuddles." Jinx held out her arms as if reaching for you. You sighed, crawling closer to her and nuzzling into her chest. "There you go, trinket, I'll keep you warm.."

About an hour passed, and you two were just laying there, taking in each others warmth. Jinx mumbled something to herself, and you couldn't quite tell what. You weren't concerned until her arms let go of you and she began to turn and kick in her sleep. You hadn't even realized she wasn't awake. A few shakes woke her up and she was in a panic. Shaking, rambling, eyes darting from place to place. "Jinx, Jinx its okay.. it was a dream!" Your hand moved to rest on hers. Her eyes wandered over you, dilating just a little. "It was an accident.." her voice trailed off.

You hugged her, whispering quietly. "I know, forgive you. I always will." You know how it felt to have dreams like that, and reassurance always helped. Jinx hugged you, letting her head rest in the crook of your neck. "Mm."

You only smiled, laying down with her in your arms. "Let's rest for a little, and then we can take a nap if you want."

Jinx only whined, nuzzling closer.

You hoped this would keep happening. The comfort of Jinx's presence was something you lived for. And it would. In almost every universe.

END OF FIC.

[b4rkwoofwrites]

In Pursuit of Science and Studies

CHAPTER I

I never knew who I wanted to be, or what I wanted to do. As a matter of fact, I knew nothing more than do well and be successful. My life didn’t seem to have direction until word about Jinx started to spread. The attacks were horrific and flashy, and even though it was horrible, I found inspiration in it. In her determination, and in her engineering. I’d visit places she’d been to look for old scraps of her bombs and other inventions, and I’d analyze them. It was the only thing that brought me real joy, it meant a lot to me.

However, studying didn’t mean a lot to me. When my parents pitched the idea of going to Piltover Academy, I was livid. That was until they told me the classes they offered. There was a good variety, but I wanted to take Science and Engineering. For a year I’d been infatuated with Jinx’s mechanisms, now I could finally learn to create my own. Needless to say I ran at the opportunity.

Walking into the Academy was strange, this huge building I’d seen my entire life growing up was going to be my home for the next few years. The architecture was inspiring. It took a day or two to settle and I was thankful for the extra time they offer for students to move in and prepare before the semester starts. My roommates weren’t note-worthy to me, nothing about them really stuck out. I didn’t care to learn much about them, I had more important things to do. t took a day or two to settle and I was thankful for the extra time they offer for students to move in and prepare before the semester starts. My roommates weren’t note-worthy to me, nothing about them really stuck out. I didn’t care to learn much about them, I had more important things to do.

Through the last night I sat awake at my desk, going over the last of the syllabus for my Science and Engineering class. I’d taken notes of the books I’d need to borrow and the test dates. Based on the spacing, I’d have enough time to work on my own creations. When I had no more to read, I laid in my bed, holding the stuffed animal I brought from home. It was the only item I had any sentimental attachment to, other than my blueprints and personal Jinx study journal.

The next morning, the sun poured in through the large windows. I woke before my peers to get ready for class. After brushing my teeth and doing my hair, I slipped on my uniform. I’d only ever worn it once before, and it was surprisingly comfortably considering the restrictions. The reddish-brown color went well together, and I was enjoying the visual appeal of the Academy already.

It took me a few minutes to find my class, but I arrived on time. Each and every student was different, having something that made them special visually. Still, nobody stood out to me. The lecture began soon after and I listened intently. An assignment to learn about each other had been decided on. A debate; each student would form a thesis on the limits of ethical science in the eyes of plain curiosity, simply put, what’s morally okay to do for fun. It was an easy project, and I already knew what I was going to write my thesis on.

The professor mentioned how he planned to pair us up based on votes after thesis’ had been finished, and he shared that the thesis must be finished by tomorrow. Some of the class exclaimed or groaned, but I just smiled. Fast paced work was my preference, anyway.

My other classes were boring and I didn’t care to much to commit anything to memory; however, I do remember going to the library after once the afternoon had settled in. I wanted to skim over some books on the topic of ethics and morals just to understand a little bit better. While I was searching the library for a book that met my requirements, my eyes fell upon someone. I didn’t know his name, but I knew he was in one of my classes. I racked my brain for the memory. I’d heard his voice, he asked a question. Viktor was his name, I thought.

I didn’t mean to look at him as long as I did, I only meant to observe how he was. His looks, his demeanor, but he caught my glare and I flinched as I turned away. I hadn’t expected him to notice me analyzing him. Worse things have happened and the world would keep turning, so I want on to keep searching for a book. Eventually I found one and sat down at one of the many desks in the library. I opened my small bag and set down my materials. A quick study session wouldn’t hurt.

I jotted down notes for about an hour, yawning and playing soft music in my headphones. I hadn’t noticed when Viktor walked past me, or when he silently leaned over my shoulder to see my notes. Not until he was walking away already. I wondered what exactly he wanted. Was he going to copy me? I hadn’t written my thesis yet. It’d be better to do it alone where people couldn’t try and steal my ideas.

It was almost evening, so I went up to my dorm to start my work and shower. The thesis was relatively easy and fun to make. In my opinion, explosives are generally ethical, especially since they’re used for celebrations and such. They’re in most cases, used as weapons, but who truly cares as long as they don’t hurt anybody, right?

I liked the way it was written and I didn’t mind the small imperfections that riddled through the page occasionally. Generally, a thesis for a project like this would end up an essay, and I wanted to get it done. I wasn’t sure how many pages or words would be required, so I just started writing since I could always add more or change things. I ignored the feeling of sleep pulling me from my work, and I didn’t realize how tempting it was until I woke up, drooling on my desk.

I grumbled, how had I fallen asleep? I didn’t even have the chance to shower. I sighed, groggily walking to the bathroom to get ready. I wore our second uniform, it was mostly the same, but it had a few differences. I noticed the corset laced back immediately because it took me forever to lace it back. It was a little annoying, but it looked good on me. I wondered if the male students had the corsets too, but I didn’t have time to let the thought linger.

The walk to class was nice, easy to navigate and fun to observe. The halls were long and well decorated, set with paintings and small futuristic elements. I sat in my seat, close to the front. I wanted to present as one of the first few, that way I could get a feel for a few people’s writing styles and morals. While I was waiting, setting up my materials, that guy came in. And sat next to me. Why?

He didn’t make small talk, or even say anything to me. All he did was grunt what was his excuse of a greeting. It bothered me that he sat so close. He was snooping around yesterday, and I wasn’t sure why he was doing it. I scooted a bit away from him and moved my arm over my notepad.

The lecture began and we started expressing our thesis’ to the class. I didn’t care much for long works about animal experiments or other things I really don’t remember.

However, one of my classmates, Jayce Talis? I think that’s his name. His thesis was a big drawn out and my classmates yawned. I was intrigued, listening intently. Magic. I knew it was forbidden, and his willingness to share so much about what he’d already learned was quite brave. It was fascinating to hear of his studies and theories. I moved to change my position when I caught a glimpse of Viktor. He looked most enchanted than I was. It wasn’t obvious, but you could tell in his eyes he found it interesting.

When it was my turn, I presented my opinion. Quick and simple, straight to the point. I took a look around the class every so often as I spoke to gauge people’s reactions. I knew bomb and explosives were a big deal considering recent events in Piltover. A few confused faces, a few surprised. Viktor’s stood out to me. He seemed to be deep in thought, and with each word I said, he seemed to ponder more. Hiding beneath is interest I could see disappointment. Maybe he didn’t like the thesis. Good. He wouldn’t have a reason to steal from me then.

I sat back down and listened to the rest of my peers. I was mostly bored, counting down the minutes before class would be over. And when it finally was, I went straight to my dorm to get a snack.

The next morning, our professor paired us up. Me and Viktor’s thesis’ were most popular, even though I really don’t remember what it was about. I didn’t want to work with him, but I wasn’t sure about his character yet. We had to work on our essays after class and write counterarguments for our partner.

“I already finished my essay, so when you finish yours we do the other arguments.” I didn’t really expect him to respond, considering his quiet demeanor. As soon as I heard his voice, I was captivated.

“I can finish it by tonight.”

Barely even a full sentence, and my head was spinning. I knew why, it was his accent. I had a knack for finding fictional characters to stick to and characters with accents made me weak. But this? I had to keep my cool, he wasn’t some TV show character, he was my work partner.

“Alright, do you want to meet in the library tomorrow to work on it? I can give you my number so we can plan a time.” I fidgeted with my sleeve, it was to work. Not to admire him.

“Sure, I dont think I’m doing anything tomorrow.” He handed over his phone and I punched my number in.

“See you tomorrow.” I said quietly. He grunted in acknowledgment.

I sightly waved goodbye as I went to my dorm. The whole walk there my brain filled with the sound of his voice. I cursed myself for being so attracted to it. “It’s only his voice.” I repeated the sentence into my pillow fifty times. “I can’t even trust him yet.” I sighed softly, grabbing my stuffed animal and looking at it. I smiled a little and got comfortable. The next few days should’ve been easy. I already finished my homework for my other classes since they were pretty easy, and this was the last thing I had left to do.

All I had left to do was go to the library tomorrow.

next chapter...

[b4rkwoofwrites]

Quiet Mornings with Jinx

CHAPTER II

It's morning, a bit later than usual. You're supposed to be at work by now, actually. You find yourself wrapped in blankets and somebody's arms.

"JINX." Your body is shaken involuntarily, and you open your eyes. The voice shoots through you and the matching face makes you feel as though you've died. Silco stands, looming above Jinx's bed as she sits up. "Huh..?" Silco was your boss, and he was fucking terrifying. You cowered beneath blankets, letting your head rest on Jinx's leg as the father-daughter duo spoke.

"What are they doing here?" Silco's voice was almost a low growl, and his anger overshadowed his confusion. Jinx giggled a little. "Calm down, they weren't feeling well last night."

"That doesn't explain why they're in your bed."

"Well, I wanted to help them." Jinx's voice hid something warm in its tone.

"Both of you were supposed to come to my office an hour ago, did you forget about that?"

Jinx felt your slight quivering, and she rested her hand on your back, pulling the blanket down out of your face. "I'm the one who kept them here, and you know I haven't slept in days," working her magic, she mentioned how she slept herself. Silco had been trying to get her to sleep for about a month, and she never slept longer than an hour. But she actually got decent sleep. Silco sighed, raising his hand as he walked off. "I'll give you two ten minutes. Don't expect this to go unpunished."

Jinx laughed a little, moving her hand to hold your face. "Boss man's a liiitle mad today," she helped you sit up. "Surely a few more minutes in bed wouldn't be too bad.." she pulled you into her embrace before you could react. "Jinx, Silco is going to kill me if I don't get to his office on time."

"Well, surely you could spare just a few minutes?" She smiled in an attempt to convince you. You shook your head. "We've already wasted a minute, and without my job, Silco will probably have me killed this close to you." You pulled away from her forcefully (since she had you almost completely trapped) and went to raid her closet. You didn't feel like going back to your room, so you scavenged through the messy pile of clothes she was meant to put up. Quickly, you pulled on one of her shirts and cargo pants. The shirt was a little big since it was one of Jinx's night shirts, but you didn't really care.

Jinx was in the bathroom, brushing her teeth. You dragged your feet into the bathroom to meet her and you grabbed your spare toothbrush. You'd had enough bad nights that she bought you your own stuff to keep in her room. When she left the room to change, you started to brush your teeth. Two minutes left. You hurried and practically dragged Jinx out of her room towards Silco's office.

next chapter..

[b4rkwoofwrites]

I just word vomited 901 words worth of a Viktor x Reader (first person) fic in like an hour yall pray for me

[b4rkwoofwrites]

Quiet Mornings with Jinx

CHAPTER I

"Don't leave me," you think to yourself. Staring forward at Jinx, you watch as she lowers her gun and backs away into the ominous mist.

"Why shouldn't I?"

You shoot up from your bed, breathing heavily and drenched in sweat. Nightmares have dominated your sleep for weeks, all to do with your job. Not once, though, had you dreamt of Jinx. It felt wrong, recalling the way she left you so easily. It made your stomach turn, and it almost felt like you were going to throw up.

With determination, you grabbed your stuffed animal and your small blanket and marched your way to Jinx's workshop. When you opened the door, she was working away at some invention. One step onto the high platform gave away your presence. "Who is it now," Jinx grumbled, turning to face you. Her annoyed expression softened slightly. "Why are you up so late, toots? You're usually sleeping."

"Why are you?" You mumbled as you walked closer to her. Your determination melted as you approached her. You weren't sure what you came here for. "Silco gave me another assignment, something about topside. He was all 'Jinx, you better finish this soon', blah blah blah.." Jinx turned back to her desk and kept working. "Need anything?"

You let yourself slip onto the ground and lean on her chair. "Hm." Jinx sat up a bit straighter. She recognized that tone, exhaustion, and a need for her company. "You look rough," she moved your head and turned her chair so you could lay over her lap a little. "And that's coming from me."

You could only muster up a quiet whimper before you yawned.

Jinx took this as a sign to get you into bed. She didn't use hers often, but it was there for a reason. "Come on, toots. You need sleep, especially since Silco will get pretty angry if you're late to work.." Jinx pulled you up and walked you over to her bed. She tucked you in, making sure you were cozy. As she walked away, she heard your quiet protest.

"Don't go.."

She turned back, a bit confused. "Why not? I have to finish my.." The tears in your eyes stopped her ambition and need to finish her work. She was completely focused on you now. "What- whats wrong? Did I make you cry? It was an accident, I didn't mean to," her panicking subsides as you reach for her, mumbling about how you miss her.

Jinx looked back at her desk before crawling into bed with you. She wasn't sure what exactly caused you to need her so much, but she wasn't going to deny you. Her arms trapped you, pulling you close to her. Warmth surrounded you, and you began to fall asleep.

You drifted into dreams, and you were.. safe. Sitting in bed with her, talking about who knows what. Either way, you felt warm, comfortable even. The feeling of safety shifted into romance as you looked into her eyes, deeply admiring the shining color. A voice whispered something. It was familiar, but you couldn't place it.

"Jinx."

"JINX."

next chapter..

[b4rkwoofwrites]

Dialogues to Kick-start your Chapter/Writer's Block

"Excuse me?"

"Why?"

"Where?"

"How?"

"When?"

"What?"

"No."

"Yes."

"Hell no."

"Hell yes!"

"Fuck off!"

"Fuck me!"

"In what world!"

"Which time?"

"Are you sure?"

"I don't think so."

"Not really,"

"Maybe, if you think about it—"

"What the fuck."

"Okay, catch this (insert ridiculous proposition)"

"So, I'll meet you at 6?"

"For the millionth fucking time—"

"Ya think?"

"This is it, then?"

"Come to my place. Now."

"She's called you. Right now."

"Oh, we're so screwed!"

"Hey."

"Don't do that."

"You've lost it. Completely lost it."

"What were you thinking?"

"I am confident that you belong in an asylum."

"I think you should get some help."

"Shove it up your ass!"

"Piss on it."

"I have a list and you're the top 5."

"I'd never do that."

"I'd definitely do that."

"It does sound like something I'll say, but I didn't say it. I swear!"

"Do you have any idea how hard it is?"

(as a response to the above dialogue ^) "Not harder than me for sure." / "It's not hard. Or else you wouldn't be doing it at all."

"Maybe I just need a little alcohol."

"Smells like jealousy to me."

"Lord, please."

- ashlee