#development road map

[bizzlane15]

"Build the Future with Us: Backend Developer Job Opportunity"

"Become a Backend Development Expert in 2023: Your Step-by-Step Roadmap to Success. From coding fundamentals to advanced architecture, this guide will lead you through the journey of mastering backend development."

[skyheld]

coming into orzammar as a city elf warden and getting to chose who'll be it's next king sure is something

[womaneng]

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A post shared by Zeynep Küçük Woman Engineer (@woman.engineer)

Hey there! 🚀 Becoming a data analyst is an awesome journey! Here’s a roadmap for you:

1. Start with the Basics 📚:

- Dive into the basics of data analysis and statistics. 📊

- Platforms like Learnbay (Data Analytics Certification Program For Non-Tech Professionals), Edx, and Intellipaat offer fantastic courses. Check them out! 🎓

2. Master Excel 📈:

- Excel is your best friend! Learn to crunch numbers and create killer spreadsheets. 📊🔢

3. Get Hands-on with Tools 🛠️:

- Familiarize yourself with data analysis tools like SQL, Python, and R. Pluralsight has some great courses to level up your skills! 🐍📊

4. Data Visualization 📊:

- Learn to tell a story with your data. Tools like Tableau and Power BI can be game-changers! 📈📉

5. Build a Solid Foundation 🏗️:

- Understand databases, data cleaning, and data wrangling. It’s the backbone of effective analysis! 💪🔍

6. Machine Learning Basics 🤖:

- Get a taste of machine learning concepts. It’s not mandatory but can be a huge plus! 🤓🤖

7. Projects, Projects, Projects! 🚀:

- Apply your skills to real-world projects. It’s the best way to learn and showcase your abilities! 🌐💻

8. Networking is Key 👥:

- Connect with fellow data enthusiasts on LinkedIn, attend meetups, and join relevant communities. Networking opens doors! 🌐👋

9. Certifications 📜:

- Consider getting certified. It adds credibility to your profile. 🎓💼

10. Stay Updated 🔄:

- The data world evolves fast. Keep learning and stay up-to-date with the latest trends and technologies. 📆🚀

. . .

[atom-aviation32]

Unlocking the Power of Drone Surveying Services in Delhi: The Best Geospatial Solutions

In today’s fast-paced world, drone surveying services are proving to be a game-changer, especially in Delhi, where urban growth and infrastructure projects are booming. With the rapid advancements in drone technology in Delhi, industries have discovered a more efficient way to gather geospatial data, significantly transforming how surveys are conducted.

Aerial survey companies in Delhi are leading the charge by utilizing drones to provide high-precision data collection for a variety of industries. Whether it’s for construction, agriculture, or environmental monitoring, drones offer a level of accuracy that traditional methods simply can’t match. Gone are the days of relying on costly manual labor and time-consuming equipment. Instead, drones swiftly capture high-resolution images and 3D models, delivering valuable insights that streamline decision-making and reduce project timelines.

When searching for the best drone services, it’s crucial to choose a provider that offers comprehensive geospatial solutions. These solutions not only include aerial imagery but also topographical mapping, volumetric analysis, and real-time data collection. This makes drone services an invaluable asset for land assessments, project planning, and site management.

The rise of drone technology has made it easier for businesses to gather critical data in less time, at a lower cost, and with greater precision. Whether you need to monitor the progress of a construction project or assess land for agricultural purposes, drone surveying services in Delhi can provide the accuracy and speed needed to stay ahead of the competition.

With the continuous evolution of drone technology, the future of surveying is looking brighter than ever. By choosing the right aerial survey company in Delhi, you can unlock the full potential of drone technology and gain a competitive edge in your industry.

For innovative and reliable geospatial solutions, drone surveying services in Delhi offer the best way forward. Let the power of drones revolutionize your data collection processes and take your projects to new heights!

[benjaminwolf1234-blog]

I just made a road map for the endings of my game and oh boy I have a lot of work to do

[unofficial-cts]

From the Cell to Singularity March Dev Diary:

We want to provide more contests and other fun engaging events to our community. In order to accommodate, moving forward, we will be releasing our dev diary once every three months (once every quarter). Roadmaps will continue to be released two times a year— one at the beginning and another at the end of the year. Livestreams will continue to be bi-monthly, with the next one towards the beginning of May. We will also be multi-streaming on Twitch and YouTube.

[elizacrypto]

Unlocking the Future: A Comprehensive Guide on How to Become a Blockchain Developer

In the rapidly evolving landscape of the IT world, Blockchain stands out as one of the top emerging technologies. Beyond the confines of cryptocurrency, the global market for blockchain technology is projected estimated that this market will grow to some 2.6 billion U.S. dollars by 2029, revolutionizing the digital realm in a more secure and efficient manner. This article delves into the intricacies of becoming a Blockchain Developer, exploring the career opportunities offered by IT giants and providing a step-by-step guide for aspiring professionals.

Understanding the Role: Who is a Blockchain Developer?

Blockchain Developers: Architects of the Future

Before embarking on the journey to become a Blockchain Developer, it's crucial to grasp the role's essence. Blockchain Developers are tech professionals tasked with designing protocols, building smart contracts, and contributing to the distributed database that records transactions globally. They can be broadly classified into two types: Core Blockchain Developer and Blockchain Software Developer.

Core Blockchain Developer: Crafting the Foundation

Designing Blockchain protocols and consensus protocols.

Architecting and monitoring network architecture.

Implementing various blockchain features and functionalities.

Blockchain Software Developer: Bridging Applications

Developing APIs for blockchain integration.

Creating the frontend and backend of Decentralized Applications (DApps).

Implementing Smart Contracts.

The Roadmap to Success: Becoming a Blockchain Developer

Start with the Academics

Commence your journey by establishing a strong academic foundation in Computer Science or Information Technology. While not mandatory, a degree in these fields provides essential fundamentals. Complement your education with recommended training programs to enhance your technological exposure.

2. Get Proficient with Required Tech Skills

Before diving into Blockchain Development, hone several prerequisite technical skills, including:

Programming Languages: Java, C++, Python, etc.

Data Structures: Linked lists, binary trees, hashing, and more.

Databases & Networking: Fundamental concepts for distributed systems.

Cryptography: Understanding digital signatures, hash functions, and RSA algorithm.

Prepare for Blockchain Interview Questions and Answers for Beginners

Familiarity with web designing and development is also crucial for handling APIs and developing DApps.

3. Understand the Basics of Blockchain

Once equipped with tech skills, delve into the fundamentals of Blockchain:

Learn about Blockchain architecture, consensus, hash functions, and distributed ledger technology.

Gain insights into Bitcoin, public and private approaches, and decentralization.

Leverage online and offline resources, tutorials, and training sessions for a comprehensive understanding.

4. Learn about Cryptonomics

Explore the intersection of Cryptography and Economics with Cryptonomics. Understand concepts like transaction fees, mining, and the transaction lifecycle using Bitcoin to comprehend the economic aspects of cryptocurrencies.

5. Get Knowledge of Ethereum and DApps

Focus on Ethereum, a prominent open-source decentralized Blockchain network. Understand its versatility in running smart protocols, developing Smart Contracts, and creating Distributed Applications (DApps). Ethereum serves as an excellent starting point due to its robust functionalities.

6. Learn about Smart Contracts & Solidity

Delve deeper into Blockchain concepts such as Smart Contracts and Solidity:

Understand the role of Smart Contracts in automation without third-party interference.

Master Solidity, a high-level language for writing smart contracts, influenced by JavaScript.

7. Get Some Hands-On Experience

Apply theoretical knowledge in real-world scenarios by gaining hands-on experience:

Write smart contracts, develop DApps, and engage in practical applications.

Consider internships or training programs for a structured learning environment.

Join discussion groups to connect with Blockchain professionals for valuable insights.

8.Obtain Relevant Certifications and Recommended Books

Validate your skills with certifications like IBM Blockchain Certification and Certified Blockchain Solution Architect (CBSA). Additionally, consider these recommended books to enhance your knowledge:

"The Blockchain Developer" by Elad Elrom

"The Book of Satoshi" by Phil Champagne

"Blockchain Revolution" by Don and Alex Tapscott

"The Basics of Bitcoins and Blockchains" by Antony Lewis

Conclusion

Embarking on the path to becoming a Blockchain Developer demands dedication, hard work, and consistency. However, with the rapid growth of Blockchain Technology, the career prospects for Blockchain Developers are exceptionally promising. Seize the opportunity, prepare yourself for the challenges ahead, and achieve your career goals in the dynamic realm of Blockchain Development.

FAQs: Unlocking Your Queries

Is a specific academic background necessary to become a Blockchain Developer?

While not mandatory, a background in Computer Science or Information Technology provides a solid foundation. Recommended training programs can supplement this.

2. What programming languages are essential for Blockchain Development?

Java, C++, Python, among others, are crucial for developing applications and implementing various tasks in Blockchain Development.

3. How can I gain practical experience in Blockchain Development?

Engage in hands-on activities like writing smart contracts, developing DApps, and participating in internships or training programs.

4. Are certifications important for a career in Blockchain Development?

Certifications like IBM Blockchain Certification and Certified Blockchain Solution Architect (CBSA) add credibility to your skills and open up diverse career opportunities.

5. Which is the best Blockchain Development company in Mohali, Punjab to work in?

Wisewaytec is your go-to choice. Renowned for its expertise in blockchain technology, Wisewaytec stands out as a leader in the industry. The company's commitment to innovation, security, and efficiency makes it the best option for your blockchain development needs. 

[phantomrose96]

The conversation around AI is going to get away from us quickly because people lack the language to distinguish types of AI--and it's not their fault. Companies love to slap "AI" on anything they believe can pass for something "intelligent" a computer program is doing. And this muddies the waters when people want to talk about AI when the exact same word covers a wide umbrella and they themselves don't know how to qualify the distinctions within.

I'm a software engineer and not a data scientist, so I'm not exactly at the level of domain expert. But I work with data scientists, and I have at least rudimentary college-level knowledge of machine learning and linear algebra from my CS degree. So I want to give some quick guidance.

What is AI? And what is not AI?

So what's the difference between just a computer program, and an "AI" program? Computers can do a lot of smart things, and companies love the idea of calling anything that seems smart enough "AI", but industry-wise the question of "how smart" a program is has nothing to do with whether it is AI.

A regular, non-AI computer program is procedural, and rigidly defined. I could "program" traffic light behavior that essentially goes { if(light === green) { go(); } else { stop();} }. I've told it in simple and rigid terms what condition to check, and how to behave based on that check. (A better program would have a lot more to check for, like signs and road conditions and pedestrians in the street, and those things will still need to be spelled out.)

An AI traffic light behavior is generated by machine-learning, which simplistically is a huge cranking machine of linear algebra which you feed training data into and it "learns" from. By "learning" I mean it's developing a complex and opaque model of parameters to fit the training data (but not over-fit). In this case the training data probably includes thousands of videos of car behavior at traffic intersections. Through parameter tweaking and model adjustment, data scientists will turn this crank over and over adjusting it to create something which, in very opaque terms, has developed a model that will guess the right behavioral output for any future scenario.

A well-trained model would be fed a green light and know to go, and a red light and know to stop, and 'green but there's a kid in the road' and know to stop. A very very well-trained model can probably do this better than my program above, because it has the capacity to be more adaptive than my rigidly-defined thing if the rigidly-defined program is missing some considerations. But if the AI model makes a wrong choice, it is significantly harder to trace down why exactly it did that.

Because again, the reason it's making this decision may be very opaque. It's like engineering a very specific plinko machine which gets tweaked to be very good at taking a road input and giving the right output. But like if that plinko machine contained millions of pegs and none of them necessarily correlated to anything to do with the road. There's possibly no "if green, go, else stop" to look for. (Maybe there is, for traffic light specifically as that is intentionally very simplistic. But a model trained to recognize written numbers for example likely contains no parameters at all that you could map to ideas a human has like "look for a rigid line in the number". The parameters may be all, to humans, meaningless.)

So, that's basics. Here are some categories of things which get called AI:

"AI" which is just genuinely not AI

There's plenty of software that follows a normal, procedural program defined rigidly, with no linear algebra model training, that companies would love to brand as "AI" because it sounds cool.

Something like motion detection/tracking might be sold as artificially intelligent. But under the covers that can be done as simply as "if some range of pixels changes color by a certain amount, flag as motion"

2. AI which IS genuinely AI, but is not the kind of AI everyone is talking about right now

"AI", by which I mean machine learning using linear algebra, is very good at being fed a lot of training data, and then coming up with an ability to go and categorize real information.

The AI technology that looks at cells and determines whether they're cancer or not, that is using this technology. OCR (Optical Character Recognition) is the technology that can take an image of hand-written text and transcribe it. Again, it's using linear algebra, so yes it's AI.

Many other such examples exist, and have been around for quite a good number of years. They share the genre of technology, which is machine learning models, but these are not the Large Language Model Generative AI that is all over the media. Criticizing these would be like criticizing airplanes when you're actually mad at military drones. It's the same "makes fly in the air" technology but their impact is very different.

3. The AI we ARE talking about. "Chat-gpt" type of Generative AI which uses LLMs ("Large Language Models")

If there was one word I wish people would know in all this, it's LLM (Large Language Model). This describes the KIND of machine learning model that Chat-GPT/midjourney/stablediffusion are fueled by. They're so extremely powerfully trained on human language that they can take an input of conversational language and create a predictive output that is human coherent. (I am less certain what additional technology fuels art-creation, specifically, but considering the AI art generation has risen hand-in-hand with the advent of powerful LLM, I'm at least confident in saying it is still corely LLM).

This technology isn't exactly brand new (predictive text has been using it, but more like the mostly innocent and much less successful older sibling of some celebrity, who no one really thinks about.) But the scale and power of LLM-based AI technology is what is new with Chat-GPT.

This is the generative AI, and even better, the large language model generative AI.

(Data scientists, feel free to add on or correct anything.)

[intoxicated-chan]

Daryl Dixon request! You and Daryl have just recently got together a few months ago! You and Daryl wander off from the group when you're on the road too look for food water ext, you both get a bit frisky and your sexual tension builds(maybe a bit of bickering), but it’s dangerous, so Daryl takes you against the tree your legs wrapped around him your back against the tree a gun in hand just in case a walker hears, but he’s also kissing you to muffle your moans 💕💕

𝐂𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐫

Summary ➳ Daryl fucks you against the tree. (Idk what else to say) 

(A/n) ➳ I am not made to write smut! Most of one-shot is just fluff and only a couple hundred words is smut... I’m sorry.   

Word Count ➳ 1.4k 

Content Warnings ➳ Female reader, sexual content, mainly fluff, little smut, typical TWD violence, swearing, pet names (Sweetheart, darlin���), getting caught but not knowing? Unprotected sex, p-in-v, outdoor sex, creampie... 

“I ain’t gonna say it again.” You pushed Daryl as the two of you walked through the empty streets. “Move your damn ass.”  

“Stop yer damn whinin’.” Daryl retorted. “And I know yer ass ain’t talkin’ crap when ya nearly lost yerself in places like this and I had to find ya.” Finally, he picked up his pace, just like you wanted him to do for the past two hours, maybe more. 

You rolled your eyes, arms crossed and scoffed but quickly shut yourself up when you tripped on your own feet.  

“I heard that.” Daryl commented.  

“Piss off.”  

“Swearin’ ain’t gonna scare me away sweetheart.” He chuckled and stopped, loading his crossbow as he caught sight of a lone walker. “Yer stuck with me.” He murmured, aiming the crossbow with a finger on the trigger.  

“Sadly.” You playfully sighed, standing back as you let Daryl deal with the simple threat.  

How long has it been? Three- no, four? Yes, four months. You both had strayed from the group, a habit you both developed over the past few months, much to the group’s dismay. 

“Top that.” Daryl said, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. He walked to the dead walker, putting his foot on its head to pull the arrow out of its skull. “Now, ya sure we ain’t lost?” He asked, wiping the blood from the arrow.  

You shot him a grin, unfolding your arms and placed them on your lips. “Lost? Please, I could navigate these roads blindfolded.”  

Daryl raised an eyebrow. “Remembered that happened when I left ya with Rick.”  

“Please, don’t remind me.”  

“Then stop lyin’.” 

You shook your head. “Then do you have any idea where we’re headed, Dixon?” You asked, as you pulled at the straps of your bag, trying to relieve your shoulders.  

Daryl shot you a glance, his smirk turning into a genuine smile. “Jus’ followin’ the trail, darlin’.” He answered in his trademark gravelly voice. “Ain’t like we got a map or somethin’.”  

“Well, let’s hope your tracking skills are as good as you say they are.”  

He huffed but then laughed, his eyes moving to what’s in front of them for any sign of movement. “Trust me, (Y/n), ain’t no walker gonna sneak up on us while I’m around.”  

Your smile dropped by the sound of rusting in the bushes beside the road. Daryl aimed his crossbow while you unsheathed your knife. Slowly, they approached the source of the noise, ready to attack. 

But you gasped, a small rabbit darted out from the bush, scurrying away into the distance. Daryl lowered his crossbow.  

“Looks like dinner jus’ ran off.”  

You clicked your tongue, sheathing your knife as you reached into your bag. “Guess we’ll have to settle for canned beans again.” 

The two of you decided to make camp when you noted the sunset, and you knew it would be some time before you reached the group. Daryl gathered dry twigs and branches, making a small fire.  

Sitting side by side on makeshift logs, you both shared a meal of canned beans that were heated by the flames. The fire flickered over the silence, luckily, you both were comfortable.  

Though you side eyed Daryl when he refused the spoon, he found it easier to eat with his hands. Daryl looked at you as you ate, noticing the pistol he had given you for protection wasn’t on or near you. “Where’s the gun I gave ya?”  

You hesitated for a moment, scrapping the sides of the can with your spoon. “I... I couldn’t get it to work.” You admitted sheepishly. “It feels like it’s clogged.” 

Daryl sat his half-eaten can of beans to the side and licked his fingers clean. He reached down to your bag to retrieve the pistol, examining it near the fire. His brows furrowed in concentration as he tried to find the issue.  

As he worked, you couldn’t help but stare. The way his rugged features were softened by the firelight, the way his gruff hands moved with such precision... It made you rub your thighs together.  

He was always skilled with his fingers, making you crumble and become weak with just his hands.  

“-Good to go.” Daryl’s voice made you jump, catching the pistol in time before it hit the ground. “Test it out.”  

You looked around. “Here?”  

“There’s a silencer on it for a reason.” 

“And waste bullets?”  

“Ya gonna complain or try it?”  

Daryl pointed at a tree not far but barely visible. “Try it,” he stood, motioning for you to stand. But you just stared at him. “C’mon.”  

You stood and looked where he pointed, it was a tree with a giant rock to its left side. You gripped the pistol and aimed it.  

Daryl moved behind you. “Ya gotta straighten your posture.” He murmured, his voice low, his hot breath hitting your ear. “Like this.”  

Gently, he adjusted your stance, his hands lingering on your shoulders for a moment, longer than necessary. His hands, his voice, his breath... It all sent shivers down your spinel, a sensation that sent a rush down to your cunt.  

“Is this better?” You said, your voice barely audible. 

Daryl nodded, you couldn’t see but there was a faint smirk. “Much.”  

“Should I-” You stumbled when you felt his hands come on your hips, you felt your face starting to burn. “Daryl?’ 

He hushed you. “Don’ think.” He replied softly. “Go on, fire it.”  

“I can’t.” You retorted. “Walkers are nearby-” 

Daryl snatched the gun and pushed you against a tree, you didn’t see it coming. “Guess I gotta keep ya quiet.” He muttered, leaning in. “Think I didn’t notice ya starin’? Oglin’ me? So damn desperate.”  

“Ain’t my fault.” You said, shrugging, trying to act natural. “Looking like a goddamn meal.”  

“Wanna taste?” Again, he spoke in your ear, nearly making your knees buckle.  

“Please.”  

“Then shut up.”  

He used his free hand to pull you in a kiss, the hand that held a pistol remained by the side of your head. You immediately returned the kiss, your arms wrapped around his neck.  

God, he tasted so good. He smelled so good, some fucking how. Or maybe it was your nose playing with you, but you didn’t care. You needed more of him.  

You then jumped on him, using your own strength to keep you upright. It startled Daryl as he didn’t expect it.  

Daryl's hand squeezed your ass, gaining a moan from you.  He pulled back. “Gotta keep quiet for me.” He said. “Think ya can do that?” 

Yu didn’t understand a single word that came out of his beautiful mouth, but slammed your lips against his, becoming addicted to him.  

“Do me a favor.” Daryl hummed against your neck. “Unbuckle my pants for me.”  

Maggie froze in place, lifting his hand up to stop Carol. “Did you hear that?” She murmured, it sounded like a whimper or maybe a moan.  

“Sounds like a person.” Carol responded.  

“Might be survivors.”  

Nodding in agreement, Carol followed Maggie as she cautiously followed the source of the nose. Moving slowly and carefully, her guard was on high alert.  

But she didn’t expect to see Daryl with his pants around his knees with your legs around his waist. The strap of your tank top fell past your shoulders, exposing one of your breasts.  

It looked like his lips were glued to yours, he only took a couple of moments to catch his breath before they were back on you.  

Carol sighed and covered her eyes turning away, honestly, she wasn’t surprised. She just didn’t think you both go as far as to do it out in the open.  

“That doesn’t look comfortable.” Carol commented.  

“It isn’t.” Maggie replied. “Should we-” 

“Let them get it out of their systems.” Carol grabbed Maggie’s arm to walk away.  

Daryl had you up against the tree, your back throbbing from the uneven trunk digging into your skin. Your lips are most likely swollen by now, saliva dripping down your chin. 

There was something thrilling about being fucked out in the open with danger nearby. But there wasn’t a single ounce of fear with Daryl holding the pistol. 

He felt your fingernails digging into him as he fucked you, he was getting off on it. 

Your moans were always cut off, as well as your words. He took pleasure in seeing you getting frustrated.  

Daryl felt your walls tighten around him, desperately trying to hold him in, chasing an orgasm.  

And when Daryl comes, he does it inside. He manages to go deeper than before. You slumped against Daryl, eyes shut.  

“don’ go sleepin’ on me now.” Daryl now had you standing on your feet, his only hand keeping you up as he looked around. “We got a couple hours before day. I say we use ‘em.” 

© Intoxicated-Chan 2024, I do not allow my work to be copied, translated, modified, adapted, or put on any other platform without my permission. 

Taglist ➳ @celtic-crossbow , @mrdixon , @duffmckagansbandana , @raspberryslxt , @lor-geeked , @thegeorgiahuntsman , @snailss , @xmaeyonaiise , @suniloli , @ladylincoln , @of-storms-and-sadness , @annhells , @sexyxdylanxobrien , @TWDgal , @yoowhatthefuck , @oikawarz , @mylifeinthetardisforever , @let-love-bleeds-red , @virginsexgod69 , @scudslut , @theesexystallion , @yondus-girl , @raoudixs , @sleep-queen , @gyustarzzi2 , @stunt-lads , @Lettersfromyourlove ,  

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Writing Notes: Detailed Settings

A detailed setting draws your readers into the world you’ve built, allowing them to inhabit the storyline. Learn the core elements of setting, and apply them to your own writing.

How to Create a Vivid Setting for Your Story

Writing vividly is all about evoking clear imagery and detail in the mind of the reader. Here’s how to create a richly textured world for your story:

Use place to your advantage. Place denotes both geographical location and immediate surroundings. A story that unfolds in the hurried chaos of New York is not the same if transplanted to an isolated island in the Pacific. A scene that takes place in a cramped room shifts when it occurs in a vast forest.

Make use of time. Time in setting can be expressed as a time of day, a season or time of year, or a historical time period. Seasonal changes—the advent of winter, a blistering summer—might provide life or death stakes; historical periods define the behavior of all the characters operating within your fictional world.

Show the world through your characters’ eyes. Try to reveal the world as the characters interact with it, since the most resonant setting descriptions are the ones that come somewhat altered through the lens of an individual. If you’re writing historical fiction, for example, you may be pulling from a real place or time. Snippets of accuracy can give palpable energy to your prose. As with anything that requires lots of research, knowing what to include can be a balancing act: too much detail, and the reader is overwhelmed.

Be aware of how setting affects emotions. Allow setting to influence your characters’ actions and moods. Otherwise, they and the world they live in will come across as static and lacking nuance. The lives of humans—or mythical creatures living in fantasy worlds—are intimately tied to setting.

Exercises for Writing Vivid Settings

Try these writing exercises to develop a strong story setting and see where it takes your narrative:

Visit a real-world location you’ve never been to before. This can be an actual place from a setting you’ve chosen or simply a place near you that you find interesting. When you first arrive at the location, don’t record or photograph or write anything down, just spend some time absorbing it through your senses. Pay attention to the things that strike you most. Go home later and write a description of the place. Remember to include the sensory details—what it felt and smelled and sounded like.

Select an important location from your novel or short story. This could be anything—a public building, a business, a famous landmark, a landscape, or someone’s house. Now choose two characters from your story and write a short paragraph describing how they might react to the setting. Explore different points of view of your chosen place.

Choose places and write them on index cards. Organize them according to how you think a story should unfold at those locations. Would it make more sense for your characters to move from one theme to another (e.g. from religious buildings to scientific ones)? What’s the most efficient way to organize them? Would a random route be more interesting?

Focus on memorable details. Keep the details grounded in a character’s sensory experience. Everyone probably knows what a tree looks like, so if you’re describing one, tell the reader what makes it different or why it’s important from your character’s point of view. You’ll want to let your reader know what it feels like for the character, what it sounds and smells and tastes like. No matter what kind of world you’re creating, this technique can bring more vividness to your writing.

On an unlined sheet of paper, create a map of your world. Pay attention to detail: Even the smallest moments can help you visualize a world more clearly. Show landscape features like mountains and lakes and roads; mark cities if you have them, and note regions and counties, too. Try to match the feel of your setting. If it’s a magical world, show features pertaining to this—a dark magician’s fortress, for example.

Source ⚜ More: Notes & References ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs

[wendichester]

˙✧˖°📷 ༘ ⋆｡˚ say cheese,

summary. making memories in the Impala.

pairing. dean winchester + reader

wordcount. 869.

Dean’s hands rest casually on the wheel of the Impala, one wrist draped over the top as he hums along to some old Zeppelin track. You’re supposed to be navigating, but the map is nowhere in sight. You’ll have to give directions to Dean soon.

“Where’d you put the map?” you ask, leaning over to rifle through his duffle bag on the floor. “How do you manage to find anything in here?” You grumble. 

Dean glances at you, smirking. “It’s called organization, sweetheart. Try looking in the side pocket.”

“You’re hilarious,” you deadpan, unzipping the bag. But as you dig around, your fingers brush against something solid and foreign. You pull it out, blinking in surprise. “A Polaroid camera?”

Dean glances at it briefly before turning his attention back to the road. “Oh, yeah. Found that in the bunker last week. Thought I’d bring it along. Ya’ know, for kicks.”

“You, of all people, brought a camera?” you tease, holding it up. “What, planning on documenting your greatest hits?”

Dean smirks. “You kidding? With my face? Every picture’s a masterpiece.” You laugh, shaking your head. “Go on, take a picture,” he says, throwing you a quick glance. “Might as well get my good side while you’ve got the chance.”

“You only have one side, Winchester,” you quip, lifting the camera and aiming it at him.

Dean grins, the kind of grin that’s all cocky charm and a little bit dangerous. “You saying I’m perfect, sweetheart?”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” you reply in a mumble, but your grin betrays you as you hit the button.

Click.

The camera whirs, spitting out the film. You wave it in the air, watching the image develop. Dean glances over, curious.

“Let me see,” he says, holding out a hand.

“Eyes on the road!” you scold, tucking the photo against your chest. “You’ll see it later.”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “Bet it’s my best one yet.”

You roll your eyes, but your stomach flips slightly when you glance at the photo again. He’s mid-grin, sunlight catching his profile just right, and for a second, you forget to breathe.

“Your turn,” Dean says, breaking the moment.

“What?” Dean grabs the camera from your lap with one hand, holding it up as he keeps the other on the wheel. “Dean, you can’t take a picture while driving!”

“Relax,” he says, glancing over at you. His grin softens, just a little. “C’mon, give me that smile.”

You shake your head, trying to look annoyed, but he’s got that way of getting under your skin. Before you can stop yourself, you’re smiling anyway.

“Atta girl,” he murmurs, and then—

Click.

The flash blinds you for a second, and you groan. “If we crash and die, I swear I’ll haunt your ass.”

Dean just grins, glancing at the developing photo before sliding it into his shirt pocket. “Trust me, sweetheart, dying would be worth it if it means I get to keep this shot.”

You narrow your eyes at him, trying to ignore the heat creeping up your neck. “You’re such a dork.”

“And you’re gorgeous,” he shoots back smoothly, not missing a beat. His eyes flick over to you for just a second, like he’s daring you to say something. “But you already knew that.”

Your pulse jumps and you bite your lip, trying to not give him the satisfaction, but yeah—your heart’s totally doing flips. You lean forward, reaching for the camera. “Yeah, right.” 

Dean’s smirk just gets wider, and for a second, you swear he’s got this magic power over you like he can make you feel like the most alive person in the world with just a look. “Wanna take the camera?” he asks, and his grin turns a little mischievous. “Come on, sweetheart. I’m all yours. Take your best shot.”

For a split second, you freeze, but then you snap out of it, snatching the camera from his hands with a smirk of your own. “Give me that. Let’s see how photogenic you are when you’re flustering like an idiot.”

“Fluster?” Dean scoffs, holding the camera just out of your reach. “Sweetheart, I don’t fluster. I smolder.”

You roll your eyes, leaning closer as you try to grab it, and Dean doesn’t move away. His gaze flicks to yours, lingering for a beat longer than necessary. The air between you shifts, the playful tension crackling like static.

“You want the camera?” he says, his voice dropping to that gravelly tone that always makes your heart skip. “Take your shot, sweetheart. I’m all yours.”

You freeze for just a second, recomposing yourself. And then, with a laugh, you snatch the camera from his hand.

“Keep talking, Winchester,” you say, aiming it at him again. “This time, I’ll catch you looking stupid.”

Dean chuckles, and the sound is like a challenge in itself. “Oh, you’ll have to try harder than that. I don’t do dumb—I do hot.”

You narrow your eyes, feeling a rush of heat. “Sure, Dean. Sure you do.”

You catch him looking at you from the corner of your eye, and your heart skips. The way his lips curl, the way his eyes flicker… he’s definitely got you exactly where he wants you.

[colorlessjay]

I was thinking, there should be a Supernatural game. Like an open world one where you can do world or side quests/case or commissions.

John's journal could be where you can see the quests/case. Maybe there's a page there that's just all about the monsters you'll encounter.

Collect items to upgrade, maybe there could be a "this week's monster". The more stronger or boss level monsters can be, like, the Leviathans or other big bad ones they fought on the show.

Maybe there's like a thing or points where you can save up to unlock other characters.

Idk why you're telling me, a non-game developer, this, BUT

[Cracks open my idea book]

Hear me out

There are two games: The first one takes place from season 1 to season 2, and is more so a small-scale concept of the game

Think Phasmaphobia, but instead of just identifying the monster in one night, there are types of investigation you can choose from:

Stake out - Where you go to the scene of the crime and use John's journal and little tricks to figure out what monster you're up against. Not a guarantee you'll pinpoint the exact monster, but it's the least suspicious and you may find extra weapons

Interviews - You go around town talking to people, trying to find clues. You get WAY more information that you can cross-reference with the journal, and have the opportunity to visit shops and gain extra equipment. However, you have to keep suspicions low and avoid getting sussed out, which can lock certain interactions

Police Files - Sneak mission. It's repetitive, but a guarantee you'll get all the info you need to identify the monster. It is difficult, though, as it requires you to break into the police station, navigate it, avoid guards, get the files, and sneak back out. Getting caught is an automatic fail, so it's a high-risk, high-reward.

In the Investigation Section, you get the opportunity to explore and find collectables. References to the show during the era and added information in John's Journal

The next stage is the actual monster fight:

Depending on what you find out about the monster, you have to pack what you need in a single dufflebag, choose your next location (Graveyard, house, forest, etc.). If you guessed the monster wrong and chose the wrong location, it goes to a cut scene of the brothers going back to the motel after a bust, and another victim is taken. It gives you an extra clue as to what the monster could be, BUT your final score for the hunt does take a hit

If you DO pick the correct location, you then have to find and hunt the monster. I'm thinking a Silent Hill style fight. Maybe Death by Daylight esque where you either choose to fight the monster head-on, or sneak up on it

A game like this, I feel like HAS to be a multiplayer where one plays Sam and the other plays Dean. And you both work together to take the monster down

If you fail, it's just game over. If one of you gets deathly injured, the other brother has a chance to heal them (video game logic). The game only ends when you both die

If you win, it jumps to a cut scene of the salt and burn, where Sam and Dean recite to you what you did and your fuck ups. If you get a perfect hunt, instead of the salt and burn, you get a mini cut scene of the brothers eating at a diner, grabbing a beer, relaxing at their motel, or just on the road again.

Then the game repeats, randomizing what monster you get and where you are. And there's a difficulty slider that gives you more monsters to fight in one game, makes you remember random facts from the show itself to identify them, and forces you to be smart about your attacks

The second game, or more so the sequel to this one, would take place around season 8 and beyond, where they gave the bunker ad more allies

THIS ONE would be a semi-open world because I don't think it's a good idea to have a game that gives you the opportunity to explore THE ENTIRETY OF AMERICA

So, instead, you choose the location of your next hunt using the Map Table in the bunker, and it loads you to a small, randomized town/city in that state.

The bunker, I feel would act as home base that you can kinda decorate depending on if you play as Sam or Dean. You can decorate your own room, add collectibles to the walls, and utilize parts of the bunker

Unlike the previous game, you can upgrade Sam and Dean's skills. You can work out at the gym to gain strength (Makes your melee attacks stronger), read lore from the library (Unlocks new information about monsters), go to the shooting range (Better aim, stability and less recoil when using guns), or do fun activities like watching movies, cooking, or hanging out with NPCs like Charlie, Kevin, Castiel, and more (Improves social skills and gets you more information through interviews), or explore the towns outside the bunker and unlock certain cutscenes and character interactions. And more stuff like speed and durability

The actual hunting gameplay is similar to the first game, but with some major changes.

Instead of a monster of the week, you actually have a storyline to follow. Definitely a condensed version of the actual series' story beats cut into chapters/seasons. Each chapter has you fighting a big bad, be it the Leviathans, the British Men of Letters, Lucifer, and more. You have to investigate where they are, what they're up to, and what to bring to stop them, meeting new characters along the way, and having to fight minor enemies

It's definitely less replayable than the first game, focusing on upgrading Sam and Dean and defeating Chuck, the final boss. It's more story-focused, and I'm imagining something similar to GTA where people can and will definitely notice Sam and Dean acting off, and there will be times when you HAVE to run away and hide before the cops get you. There are more cut scenes, more customization on what the brothers wear, and where they can go.

Game two has a DLC where you can play as Castiel on his own, and it's a side story fetch quest where you need to go around trying to obtain certain ingredients for a spell

You get to fight monsters still, but you don't upgrade Castiel. You only have Cas' angel blade and grace as your weapons (Grace being used to either attack or heal yourself mid battle, but you have a limited supply. It replenishes over time). Your final boss is like a monster/villain we haven't seen in the show, and defeating it gives you a cut scene of Cas coming back to the bunker

Sam and Dean are all like, "Where have you been???"

And Cas just drops what he's got onto the table and says, "There was a road bump."

And it turns out they didn't need it anyway, so they store it in the storage room and the game ends with Cas laying in bed watching shitty TV

------

Anyways, thanks for listening to me ramble about a game that's never gonna exist

[bulkhummus]

I have somewhat always held the belief that Night Vale only exists because Cecil is there to tell its story, and time only started moving again because Cecil developed a true personal life. What I'm thinking about now, in relation to these two things, is what was the cause for Leonard Burton's death / retirement?

Night Vale always plays around with story verses perspective/context. One version of a story is not more true than the other because we are all individuals experiencing different things. We have seen different universes, different timelines and ages, and townspeople telling the same story differently. The way Cecil interprets things is going to be different than the way Leonard Burton interprets things.

The news is effected by whoever tells it, and that quite literally can change the course and outcome of things in Night Vale, therefore the town is effected by its voice. In return, the town does things that affects its voice, and keep's their job relevant.

Throughout the show, there have been instances of the town beckoning outsiders to its borders, inviting them in. A radio channel that used to just be static. A pamphlet that appears one day with the mail. A pinpoint on a map that hadn't been there when you got out of the car at a rest stop. A door that appears. In some way or another, Night Vale selects people to show itself to. I even hold the belief that one of those outsiders was Carlos himself.

The town is a place that inevitably draws people in like a starving predator, only to trap them in its inescapable grasp. It needs stories. It needs people. A place that never existed and always exists, with people who have always been there in some way or another, removed from time itself, is starved for change.

Not to mention, that the only way someone can leave at all is if they die, and that has only been a recent development due to time starting up again. It makes one wonder if Cecil, who has been alone for so very long, abandoned by his father, his mother, distant from his only sibling and left behind for a year by the love of his life, has some kind of pull in the towns ability to keep people there.

In the very first episode of Welcome to Night Vale, a new man comes to town and fundamentally changes Cecil and the way the town operates. Things change. Right off the bat. As his personal life developed with a relationship, a son, with his sister and Steve, Cecil clumsily, and with a lack of privacy, inserted his own life into the narrative of the town right around the time that time itself started to move forward.

It makes one wonder if Cecil, who has been alone for so very long, has some kind of pull in the towns ability to keep people there and with him. If Cecil sees that someone is headed for the edge of town, all he has to do is report that the roads are closed. He can escape the Whispering Forest because he has to pick his son up from the babysitter. He can make sure Carlos survives in the Bowling Alley. If Carlos wanted to stay to work in a Desert Otherworld for a whole year, out of reach and out of sight, then he would not be allowed back until he truly made up his mind to be a part of Night Vale.

In fact one of the few people who leave town, is a young intern named Viktor, who does end up returning, way older than Cecil himself before he passes. This is notable, because the episode is titled "To the Friends and Family Of" which is in reference to each time an intern dies. Odd that leaving and death are equated to the same thing in Cecil's mind. Odd that the one intern Cecil felt could take on the position of the voice of Night Vale is capable of leaving. I think somebody that has no control of people moving and an out of his life would want to remain the narrator of the story for as long as possible.

So, if all narration can of course be connected to Cecil, as Cecil is inherently part of the narrative and the way it's told, literally and figuratively, what does that mean for Leonard?

Leonard, who we meet for the first time, as the original voice of Night Vale who is filling in for Cecil. He's playing selected tapes of his choosing, two of which detail him as having gone into retirement, and him as having been hit and killed by a cargo truck.

The embodiment of his character is a strong and profound connection to the past and nostalgia for what was. Of time remaining still. Of things always shifting but remaining the same in their little town on the edge of nothing. Of the present and future being too uncertain (world wards, death, etc) to ponder and think about.

Fast forward to now, episode 264, the company with a labyrinth logo and the cargo trucks and the crates. Leonard says-

Whatever it is these people, this "They", whom I bet are the people that killed Leonard, are having him say things that they do not trust Cecil to, especially after his mistrust in the previous episode when talking about and expressing worry for Steve.

The story is told from Cecil's pov, sure, but the town, the 'they', never accounted for this predetermined voice post Leonard Burton, to develop a life outside of his radio station booth. They picked a voice who, in Leonard's words, would crave more of the same. They picked the saddest loneliest person in Night Vale that was capable of shutting out the things that hurt and seemed strange. Cecil's job was his life before he had one, and he longed to keep things how they were like a preserved sandbox.

Cecil was never meant to be more than the voice of Night Vale. He wasn't supposed to be a part of it. The town saw (and sees) Carlos as a threat, because of what he was doing to an otherwise perfect narrator. The town showed Carlos the literal door and it wasn't until Cecil was seriously ready to leave did the town back track and allow Carlos to come back. They knew allowing Carlos back would keep Cecil in town.

So this begs the question. What was it that determined Leonard would be removed from his post? Was it just an accident? What is because he suddenly had a family of his own (in reference to him saying he retired to be understand what it means to be a family)? Did he stop pushing an agenda just as he have seen Cecil begin to do less and less of himself?

Anyways those are my thoughts and theories for funsies!

[prodagustd]

the road not taken 07 | myg

part five: old wounds

Summary: You really, really tried to ignore Yoongi. But once again, you failed.

<part six

—pairing: lawyer!yoongi x actress!oc

—rating: +18

—genre: brother's best friend, one sided pinning (or both?), slow burn

—warnings/tags: slow burn, angst, fluff.

—words: 9.7k

—a/note: hi friends!! can't even begin to describe the amount of mental breakdowns i had writing this but here is it!! i doubted myself too many times before posting this one (still am), idk why it was so hard to finish but i'm glad it's here, i hope you enjoy and as always, you're welcomed to discuss this part in the asks!!

series masterlist | teaser | playlist

Present

It was such a mistake to even insinuate that the years that had passed had made you wiser, or that the hurt and heartbreak had made you stronger, more decisive, or less stubborn. If anything, you continued to make the same mistakes, you were ten times more sensitive and you had developed a level of stubbornness that was almost impossible to shake. You had spent years consumed by bitterness, only to learn nothing from it, and still, you wanted to trust yourself and stop doubting every decision you made, but it was hard considering you were the same person who led yourself here. 

A few days ago, when Minnie said she just wanted to show you a few ideas to help The Alley, what she really meant was that she had already mapped out a full schedule for you long before you even knew what was going on. You assumed she might want your help with organizing things—selling tickets on movie nights to show your face for a few seconds and draw in more people, painting a few walls, or changing some light bulbs—but you couldn’t have been more wrong.

As she turned the pages of her diary, you tried to make sense of every word she was saying, remaining silent as you patiently waited for her to finish so you could finally get a chance to speak. 

“You want me to direct the end-of-year play?” you asked, needing to confirm what she had just said. “In only three months?”

Your redhead friend slowly nodded, looking you straight in the eye as if she just hadn’t gone completely crazy. 

“That’s plenty of time.”

You shook your head in disbelief. “You and I both know that’s not remotely—that’s not even half the time I would need.”

Minnie rolled her eyes and stood up, walking over to the large board behind her. It was a chaotic collage of crumpled pieces of paper, faded photographs, and yellowed old letters, all pinned in a disorganized frenzy that seemed to mirror the whirlwind of her thoughts. 

“Bullshit. You’re like… Broadway trained or something. You’re the only person who can pull it off.” 

You sit back against the chair, sighing. You wanted to help Minnie, not only because she was your best friend but because this was the place you grew up in. Yet, despite your best intentions, a wave of overwhelm crept in, making it hard to ignore. Deep down, or maybe not so deep down, you knew that the time wouldn’t be a problem, that directing was one of your secret passions and wouldn't be a burden at all, but the real problem was that you still didn’t feel prepared to show your face around.

Here was the catch: you couldn’t say no. You knew Minnie, you could make thousands of excuses and she would find a solution for each one of them, so you had two options: say yes right away, or say no until she finally made you say yes. 

“And it’s an original play, you say? Written by one of the kids?” You asked, already knowing which option would be easier. 

“Yes...” She replied softly. “You know, like the ones you used to write when you were a kid…”

You tried not to roll your eyes. Classic Minnie, guilt-tripping you until you had no choice but to agree. 

You chuckled bitterly, suddenly remembering that six months ago, you had told your therapist that you were asking for an opportunity like this—a chance to redeem yourself, something close to a miracle. Yet now, with it right in front of you, you were hesitant to take it. You had to suppress the urge to call her without notice to ask her opinion about everything. Agnes, who always seemed to be at the end of her patience with your self-sabotaging tendencies, would be sitting in her office back in the city, she would pick up your call and tell you that this could be the perfect chance to reconnect—not only with your hometown and your friends but with your old self as well. She would say this was exactly why you had decided to come back home, and you would’ve hated hearing it. You would’ve hated admitting she might be right.

You straightened up, trying to look serious. “Let me read it first,” you said. “Then we can talk about it.” 

“Mmmm… I have a better proposition.” She argued, “You read it and start tomorrow.” 

“You’re kidding,” You replied, incredulous.

She clapped her hands, sealing the deal with a finality that made it clear she wasn’t joking. “Of course I’m not. We can’t afford to waste time,” she said matter-of-factly. “We need to call the kids, arrange the theater—which, by the way, is under maintenance, but that won’t be an issue. The lights will be fixed by morning, and you can start in the afternoon. And oh, you’ll need to…”

“Minnie!” You yelled, making her stop abruptly “Stop talking and give me a second, Christ…” 

Your friend nodded, a bit embarrassed of her sudden excitement. She sat back in her chair, quietly observing you as you tried to make up a plan in your head. 

“Okay, I’ll read the play tonight, and tomorrow morning I would need to talk with the person who wrote it. Then, we’ll see if we start in the afternoon.” You stated. She nodded in contentment, but you knew she was holding back.  “C’mon, don’t look at me like that…”

“Like what?” She huffed. 

“Like a lost puppy.” You rolled your eyes “I said I will help, right?” 

“You said that, yes…” She trailed off “But I don’t want you to just help, you know? If it’s not too much to ask, I would like you to put your heart to it.” 

You chuckled, knowing that she meant every word. “I know that.” 

“Well, I hope you do.” She sighed “These kids… they were so disappointed when they found out we couldn’t pay the last teacher anymore. It’s not just about the play, it’s about everything, this place is like a second home. Hell, for most of them it’s like the first one… I just want to make it count.” 

Minnie looked at you like she could read every thought in your mind. 

“I know.” You said, feeling like a fourteen year old all over again “I understand.” 

“I know you do.” She nodded, smiling with her eyes. “Of course you do.”

You couldn’t fully believe in fate. Or in irony, or the universe having some big plan, and yet when you finished reading the script for the play you thought it was written just to fuck with you. 

The play was about some girl, June, growing up in The Alley as she tried to find herself. That was the story, that was the big dramatic theme of the play you somehow agreed to direct. How groundbreaking, how deeply, earth-shattering not cliché. And still, something about it got under your skin. Not exactly in a bad way, it felt… familiar. The kind of familiarity that made you shift in your seat, like when someone says something uncomfortably true about you, but you couldn’t argue because they were right. 

The whole who am I, where do I belong thing—hasn’t that been done a million times before? Haven’t you seen it, loved it, run away from it? Maybe that’s why it bothered you. Because it was too easy to see yourself in it.

Not that you’d admit that.

That Saturday morning you were meeting Harriet, the writer of the play that gave you nightmares last night, to discuss the script, offer a few pointers, and try to organize the first rehearsal. You exhaled sharply, it was just a play, nothing more. You tried not to overthink it, but Minnie thought otherwise. 

“So?” Minnie asked as she organized her bag. You looked up to her from your coffee, sitting at the end of her table. “Did you like the play?”

You shrugged, with eyes barely open.  “It’s good.” 

Minnie narrowed her eyes, sitting next to you. “Good?” She snorted, “C’mon, you liked it.”

“Sure, I liked it,” you said, taking a sip of your coffee. “The dialogue’s good, the pacing is solid. It’s relatable, I guess.”

“Mhm…” Minnie drummed her fingers lightly against the edge of the table. She was quiet for a beat, clearly waiting for you to say more. When you didn’t, she tilted her head, smirking like she knew exactly where this was going. “You don’t see it, then?”

You raised an eyebrow. “See what?”

“Yourself?”

God. Of course.

Here we go again. You should’ve known better than to think you’d get through a full conversation without her dragging you into some self-reflection trap.

You let out a soft scoff, lowering your cup. “What do you mean?”

“You do see it.” Minnie grinned, all too satisfied. “It’s like a therapy session in script format.”

You rolled your eyes.  “An angsty teenager who’s angry at the world, fighting her way into adulthood? Isn’t that the story of every single kid in that place?” You said, recalling the script—though you refused to admit it sounded a little too familiar.

“No, not like this,” she insisted. “It’s different. It reminded me of you.”

You sighed, leaning back in your chair. “You always say that.”

“Because every time I say it, it’s true,” she replied, unbothered. “You know I know you like the back of my hand, right? Inside and out. You can’t hide anything from me.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Well, I know you too—and right now, I know you’re being very, very annoying.”

Minnie rolled her eyes so dramatically it made you laugh.

“You really don’t see it?” she asked again, gentler this time.

You looked away, pretending to be way too interested in the last sip of your coffee. “I see a lot of things,” you said, vaguely.

She let out a quiet breath through her nose, like she wanted to keep poking but decided against it.

“Fine.” She sighed, finally letting it go—for now—as she stood up and grabbed her empty mug. “You’re meeting Harriet today, right?”

You nodded.

“Don’t be mean to her.”

“I’m never mean.”

“You terrify people.”

“Only the weak,” you replied, standing as well. “And if she’s anything like me, she’ll be fine.”

The hallway to the main theater was dim, almost dark. Anyone walking in for the first time might assume it was just another maintenance issue—one of the many The Alley was always plagued with—but you knew better. It had always been like this. The lights flickered sometimes, the floor creaked in all the right places, and the smell of paint never really left the walls. 

Cork boards lined the walls, cluttered with wrinkled flyers and announcements for local events. Above them, big framed photos of past theater productions hung in no particular order—some crooked, most dusty. No one ever fixed them, but they had their charm.

The place was still quiet and empty, almost peaceful. Only your footsteps echoed softly as you walked, your script folded under one arm. Minnie was beside you, phone in one hand, her second coffee of the day in the other, talking nonstop about everything she had to deal with before noon.

“…and we’re out of paper towels again, and someone stole the good extension cord, so now I’m down to that weird one from the lost and found that sparks if you look at it wrong. Also, we’re probably getting fined if we don’t fix the exit sign by Friday, and—”

You let her talk. It helped you focus. Or, at least, pretend you were focusing.

Minnie knew you like no other person, but still couldn’t remember one core fact of your existence: you were not, by any stretch of the imagination, a morning person. 

And today, it turned out, that wasn’t the only thing she forgot.

You were just approaching the theater doors, head slightly bowed, mentally rehearsing the day ahead, when you heard it.

A low laugh, soft and achingly familiar. 

You turned your head slowly, as if giving yourself time to be wrong. But of course you weren’t.

Because somehow, Minnie forgot to tell you that the person handling repairs today was none other than Yoongi.

Your eyes moved on instinct. You didn’t mean to look—you just did. And there he was.

The man in question was perched on a ladder, with his sleeves rolled up and a screwdriver in hand fixing a reflector, while a tall boy held it steady, laughing as he jokingly threatened to shake it. A flicker of irritation sparked in your chest. Of course he was the one handling the repairs, of course Minnie casually forgot to mention that to you.

You turned around to shoot your friend a threatening look, but she just pushed you forward, forcing you to keep walking.

You made your way towards the center of the room, trying not to pay attention to the scene, but as the sounds of your steps filled the room. You didn’t have to look to know both of them had stopped laughing. You didn’t have to guess to feel their eyes following you across the stage like the past itself had stepped into the room and sat down beside them.

“Good morning guys.” Minnie said, dropping her bags on one of the seats. “My friend right here is going to help us with the play this morning. I think you know her, Jungkook?”

You turned around just in time to see the boy abandon the ladder and bolt towards you at full speed, while Yoongi, left stranded at the top, clung to it, visibly irritated. 

He murmured something under his breath, too quiet to catch, but your attention had already shifted to Jungkook, who was practically vibrating with excitement as he extended a tattooed hand toward you.

“Oh—yeah, of course! Pleased to meet you, ma’am.” He blurted, voice a little too eager.

You couldn’t help but smile as you shook his hand.

“Jungkook is a big fan, by the way,” Minnie added casually, completely unfazed by the way his face turned an alarming shade of red.

“Well, thanks. Pleased to meet you, too,” you said, amused. “Are you fixing the stage lights today, Jungkook?”

Jungkook froze for a second, his eyes widening slightly—stunned that you knew his name, as if he hadn’t just heard Minnie say it two seconds ago.

“Well—not me,” he managed to stammer. “I mean—yes! Me. And… Yoongi. He’s, uh, kind of the boss around here.”

Your smile didn’t drop, but you raised your eyebrows in surprise. You glance towards the ladder again, watching Yoongi descend like he had all the time in the world. You looked at him, and for the shortest of seconds, he looked at you too. 

“Is he?” You asked, turning to your friend for some kind of explanation. 

Minnie shook her head, don’t start, she wanted to say, but it was too late. You’ve already started.

“Just the boss of him, maybe.” appearing beside Jungkook and giving him a pat on the back maybe a little too hard.

Something burned inside your chest, but you were not supposed to be mad anymore. You were not supposed to be angry, you were supposed to be a functioning adult, a mature person who was able to let things go and act accordingly, but without fail, every time you were in front of him you felt like a kid throwing a tantrum all over again. 

“I must’ve been gone for too long.” You said, nonchalantly. “I didn’t know you were the one calling the shots now.” 

It was encrypted in your code, you weren’t used to biting your tongue, it was stronger than you. You told yourself you didn’t want anything to do with Yoongi, but you still desperately needed to know what was he doing here, what was that tied him to this place when he didn’t even know its name a few years ago. 

The room suddenly fell silent and you knew it was your fault but you couldn’t find the will to regret it. 

He locked eyes with you, there was a hard weight on his gaze, but it gave nothing away, like a locked door with no key, totally indecipherable. 

“I’m not.” He simply said. If what you wanted was an explanation, you weren’t going to get it. “I’m just helping around.” His words hung in the air for a moment, met with a brief silence. 

Minnie cleared her throat, interrupting the hostile staring competition you and Yoongi were having. “Yoongi and Jungkook are helping with the stage lights, but they are missing a few guys today.” She carefully mentioned, her eyes going from Yoongi to you and back. “So they are going to take more time than usual.”

“I can work in the other room, if you’d like.” You offered, looking at Jungkook. 

“No!” Jungkook was quick to say “That won’t be necessary, I mean—we won’t be a problem at all.”

“Really?” You said “I mean, I could. What would the boss say?” 

Yoongi turned to you then, and you could tell he knew exactly what you were doing. The corner of his mouth twitched, not quite a smirk, not quite a frown, just the ghost of something caught between amusement and exasperation. 

He exhaled quietly, like he was reminding himself not to be annoyed, because it was you. “You know it’s okay.” He said, his voice smooth, but you caught the tiniest flicker in his eyes, that slight tension in his shoulders. 

After all these years, that connection between you still remained, woven into the spaces between words, into the way you could read each other with nothing but a glance. You could still have silent conversation in crowded rooms just by looking at each other, it was not a surprise, but it pissed you off anyway.

“Let’s get to work, then,” You muttered, sharper than intended. You didn’t look at him, but you knew he’d heard everything you didn’t say.

Last week you wouldn’t have expected to end up right here, in the middle of the stage of The Alley as you were waiting for some sixteen year old to pitch you her story, and yet, you were there. The goal for today was almost too simple to fulfill, the only obstacle was that it required all the patience you knew you never had, but you were willing to try. 

The sound of the door swinging open let you know that the day started. Suddenly, Minnie and a girl who you thought to be Harriet stepped into the room. You recognized who she was immediately, wrapped in a big baby blue puffer jacket, a long purple skirt brushing against her ankles and a red hat over her dark curls,—she was impossible to mistake.

Despite the bright color and the glowing description of her that Minnie gave you earlier, Harriet kept her eyes down as she listened to your friend speak beside her, only glancing up briefly when Yoongi and Jungkook greeted her. She mumbled a quick hello, then scanned the room—until her gaze landed on you.

Her shoulders tensed the moment her eyes met yours, but she didn’t hesitate. Adjusting the strap of her bag, she followed your friend as she walked towards the stage with steady steps.

“Well, hello girls.” You got down from your seat to greet her, offering a smile. “You must be Harriet.”

Harriet nodded. “Hi,” she said quickly, like it slipped out before she had time to overthink it.

“Harriet, this is your very cool, very last-minute new director slash teacher. Sweetie, this is your brilliant teen-playwright.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Brilliant, huh?”

Harriet gave Minnie a look. “You’re embarrassing me.”

Minnie rolled her eyes, as though she was used to this kind of teen behavior.

“I’m only telling the truth,” she huffed. “We all read the script.”

You turned your attention back to Harriet, smiling as you gestured towards the desk. “I read it too. Last night, actually. I hope you don’t mind that I’m a bit unprepared. I got the job yesterday.”

Harriet shook her head quickly. “Oh no, of course not. I mean—I wasn’t expecting anyone to take over. I thought we’d just… I don’t know, keep going until the roof collapsed.”

You let out a short laugh. “That still might happen.”

“I wouldn’t even be mad,” she said, tucking a curl behind her ear. “It’d be on theme.”

“C’mon, no roof is going to collapse today.” Minnie waved off. “We have the boys on our side.”

You took a quick look towards the back of the room, where Jungkook was halfway up the ladder, the screwdriver in one hand and a sandwich clamped between his teeth like a man with very specific priorities. Yoongi stood below, holding the toolbox open, glancing between the manual in his hand and the wires poking out of the wall. He looked focused, but the slight frown on his face gave away how confused he was.

“Well, that’s exactly why I’m afraid.” You reached for the script, handing it back to her. If the roof was going to collapse, or the electricity was going to cut out, it wasn’t going to be because of you. You were seventy percent sure of that. “I scribbled a bunch of notes in the margins like a true professional. We can talk through them during rehearsal.”

“Oh, I love margin notes.” She said, her eyes sparkling as she saw your handwriting on the pages. “Especially the brutally honest kind.” 

“Oh, you’re gonna love me, then.”

Minnie perched on the edge of the stage, watching the two of you with a smug expression that screamed told you so without having to say a word. You still refused to see how you and the girl next to you were anything alike. At first glance, Harriet’s personality came through loud and clear—her clothes were colorful, her tone enthusiastic, and her writing nothing like yours had been back in the day. You used to dress in black from head to toe and only talked to people when absolutely necessary. The only thing you seemed to have in common was your love for this place.

“Minnie told me you’re like… a purebred Alley or something like that.” You joked, giving her a small grin. “It shows, I think.”

“Really?” she asked, her eyes catching the dim light of the barely functioning reflectors.

You nodded “You wrote about this place like someone who grew up here.” You said “It’s been a while since I’ve been around, but I can recognize it. It’s not something you make up.”

A small smile tugged at Harriet’s lips. “I didn’t have to make it up.” 

“I could tell,” you said, glancing around. “I’m from… a completely different generation, but when I come back, I can tell that things are still the same.” Suddenly, a loud clang echoed through the room as a heavy tool hit the floor, making you flinch. You looked up to see Yoongi mouthing a dramatic “Sorry.”

Harriet laughed under her breath, shaking her head. “Well—maybe most things, at least,” you added, raising an eyebrow. “What I mean is that… It’s important to say that, right? The years passed but the place has the same heart.”

“That’s exactly what I wanted to say.” She nodded, like you just read her mind. “I know it’s all kind of falling apart,” she said, her eyes sweeping over the dim lights and creaky walls, “but it still feels like the only place that ever made sense.”

That made your heart clench. You had your chance to run away forever and you took it without thinking twice, but for people like Harriet, there only existed places like The Alley, and the idea that it could disappear was gut wrenching. 

“I know.” You murmured, glancing at the seats in front of you, replaying memories you tried to forget so many times. “It’s like this place gets into your blood or something.” 

There was a quiet beat, both of you sitting in that shared understanding.

Then Harriet added, voice a little softer, “That’s why I wrote it. The play, I mean. It was just… my way of trying to keep it alive. Even if it’s just a story.”

You glanced over at her, your fingers drumming lightly on the edge of the script. “You did more than that. You captured the heart of it. That’s not easy.”

Her cheeks flushed, but she held your gaze. “Thanks. That means a lot, coming from you.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Me?”

Harriet let out a soft, slightly nervous laugh. “Well, Minnie talks about you like you are linked to this place, but you know… like, you’re spiritually bonded or something. Everybody kind of knows that.” 

You blinked. Not expecting that. Not at all. 

Maybe you were. There was a time where you felt it more than ever, back when you spent your afternoons in this building instead of studying for exams you never cared about, back when the air smelled like incense and acrylic paint and some band played the same Beatles song over and over again in the other room, interrupting all your theater classes. The feeling clinging in your bones, your hand holding onto it like it was about to slip away.

But you left, more than once. First, you trade it for the chance of becoming someone else. You failed at that. Came back here, got your heart shattered and left again. And yet somehow, every time you drifted, The Alley stayed the same. Waiting.

You weren’t sure if that made you loyal or pathetic. Maybe both. 

You didn’t come back for this place, you weren’t even thinking of stepping foot here. You came back because you had nowhere else to go, because you needed something familiar to put you up on your feet and snap out of everything. But maybe this place knew better than you did. Maybe it was always supposed to pull you home.  

You sighed, feeling your chest tightened. “Like I said, it gets into your blood.” You sat back, holding the script in your hands. It was too early to think about all that. You tried to shake off all those thoughts, remembering why you were there in the first place. “But let’s not get dramatic, at least not more than necessary. I got tricked into directing your play.”

Harriet grinned. “Still counts.”

You let out a breath, shaking your head fondly as you flipped open the script again. There wasn’t time to sit in feelings. Not when you had a job to do.

“Alright,” you said, your tone shifting into something drier. “Let’s talk about the notes.”

“Yeah, right,” she said, nodding. “Shoot.”

There was a brief silence, just long enough for Harriet to hold her breath and for you to find the right page. The air shifted—calm, but expectant. “Your protagonist is stubborn as hell,” you said, not bothering to sugarcoat it. “Which I respect, totally. But the pacing in the second act drags.”

Harriet blinked. “I—I was trying to show her spiraling.”

“There are other ways to show her spiraling.” You tapped the script, flipping to your notes. “Don’t write her like she’s in a coma. You had her throwing punches in Act One, then suddenly she’s trying to hold back.”

Harriet frowned, thoughtful now. “Huh. Yeah. Okay. That makes sense.”

You caught Minnie smirking from the corner of your eye, clearly enjoying herself.

“For example,” you continued, pointing at a line, “this monologue? I liked it. She’s trying to save The Alley, she’s emotional and messy—she should stay that way the whole play, even if she’s overthinking. But in the next four pages, you wrote her like she’s afraid to raise her voice.”

“She’s not afraid,” Harriet said quickly. “She just—she masks it. Like she doesn’t want people to know how much she cares.”

You tilted your head. “Alright now, does she care or she does not? Let’s make up our minds.”

Minnie snorted.

Harriet looked around like she was hoping someone else might answer for her. Her pupils flicked nervously. “I guess… she does.”

“Exactly. So should she try to mask it?”

She bit her lip, then shook her head. “I guess she shouldn’t.”

“Okay, let’s keep her that way.” You nodded, flipping through the pages again. “Write the ugly. The parts that don’t fit into a speech. You’re sixteen, not a board of directors. Don’t try to be polite in art. You’ll bore people to death.”

Harriet nodded, eyes shining a little brighter now. “That’s really good advice.”

“Don’t get used to it,” you said, clicking your pen shut. “Most days I’m a bitch, that’s what I’ve heard of.”

You heard a squeaky sound coming from seats, catching both of your attentions. You tilted your head to look at your best friend, trying not to laugh too loud. You adjusted your reading glasses to look at her better.  “Don’t you have work to do, Minnie?” 

She smiled, not ashamed at all. “Yeah, I do, but this is more exciting.” She confessed “You two are opposite ends of the same storm. This should be fun.” 

Your gaze drifted back to Harriet, and just for a second, you saw it—something in her that echoed back to you. Maybe you weren’t so different after all.

There was no need to point out that everyone in your life seemed to know exactly how to avoid setting you off. Like when you were a kid and Simon handed you the TV remote just before you started screaming, or when Ian knew the exact moment to agree with you in the middle of a discussion—right before your frown appeared. It was like an unspoken rule: when you were mad, hell broke loose. And Yoongi knew it better than anyone. 

Which was probably why he’d barely said a word since the morning started. 

The room wasn’t particularly big, but his presence, sticking to the far side like there was some invisible line between you, made it feel that way. You were focused on other things now, but the memories this room held were almost palpable and impossible to miss, at least to you. There, in the center of the room, stood the same two chairs you’d sat in when Yoongi invited you to the Christmas movie night. You couldn’t help but wonder if he felt the same. It was a twisted thought—one of those you’d buried long ago and forbidden from resurfacing—but this time, you couldn’t stop it. You couldn’t help but wonder if, when he looked at the seats or stepped onto the stage, when he walked through the hallway or passed the room next door, he caught even the faintest echo of the memory of his fingertips against your skin.

You knew it was silly, and there was no point in even thinking about it, but something sparked in your chest when you did. 

You shook your head, annoyed with yourself. Thinking like that was dangerous. It didn’t matter. It was in the past. But still—how could he be here and not think of you?

You let out a heavy sigh, knowing you couldn’t do anything about it. Either way, he was here, and that was enough to keep your irritation on a slow burn.

Lucky for you, you had enough things to do to keep yourself entertained, it wasn’t long before your actual appointment arrived.

One by one, then in pairs, then all at once, exactly fourteen teenagers trickled into the room, dragging backpacks and half-eaten snacks, tossing jackets onto the backs of chairs like they owned the place. Within minutes, the room was a mess of voices and overlapping conversations.

You stayed seated at the desk Jungkook had kindly set up onstage so you could work more comfortably, going over notes in the script with Harriet and letting the noise build around you. You didn’t know exactly what Minnie had told them to get them to come back to rehearsals, but the fact that no one seemed to notice you yet led you to believe she hadn’t mentioned your name at all. 

“Wait, is that—”

You didn’t look up right away, but you felt the shift in the room, the quiet whispers. Then, someone dropped their water bottle, the loud metallic sound echoing through the room.

Someone else whispered “No way,” in the most dramatic whisper known to man.

Harriet sighed beside you, muttering under her breath as she tried to contain her excitement “Here we go.”

You glance up from the script. “Are we all ready?” You asked, making a few of them share glances between each other, stunned. Setting the script down, you stood up from your seat. “Hi, by the way. I’m Y/N. Minnie’s friend.”

There was a short pause before the room exploded in whispers again.

“Wait, seriously?”

“That’s her?”

“Dude. She’s literally famous.”

“No way.”

You felt the weight of their stares all at once—curious, excited, wide-eyed. It wasn’t the worst kind of attention, but it still made your skin crawl a little.

You cleared your throat. “For those who don’t know me, I’m an actress. You might’ve seen me in one or two movies. Or—more recently—on the internet, for entirely different reasons. It’s been... a fun week.”

That got a few chuckles. Someone covered their mouth, like they weren’t sure if they were allowed to laugh.

“I grew up around here. Born and raised. Went to school a few blocks away, smoked my first cigarette in the park across the street—decided pretty fast that wasn’t for me.” You gave a small shrug. “I also used to take theater classes in this exact room. A long time ago... or maybe not that long ago. Honestly, it kind of feels like time never passed at all.”

Your eyes swept the space, a faint smirk tugging at your lips. “That’s how I met Minnie, actually. She’s been my best friend ever since.”

You leaned against the desk. “So when she asked if I could do her a favor and step in to help direct this thing, I said yes. Mostly because she’s annoyingly persuasive. But also… because I owe this place a lot.”

You rubbed the back of your neck. “So no, I’m not here to give some big inspirational speech or anything. I don’t want this to be more dramatic than it’s already gonna be. I heard it’s been kind of rough around here lately, and I wanted to help.”

You gave a small shrug. “I’ve always loved this place—and I’m guessing you do too. I know what it’s like to start with nothing. No time, no budget, too many opinions. I’ve been in this room. And hey, if we’re lucky, we might actually make something cool.”

You paused, the silence stretching just enough to make you aware of all the pair of eyes looking at you, expectantly, like they were waiting for you to say something to make  all of this sense. God this was awkward. You hated introductions. 

Just as you were about to move on, a boy sitting cross-legged near the corner raised his hand hesitantly.

“Uh—sorry. I was just wondering… is this, like, for a documentary or something?”

You blinked at him, caught off guard “A documentary?”

He shrugged. “I dunno. You’re famous, and now you’re here, so I thought maybe there were cameras or—like, a redemption arc thing?”

A few kids laughed nervously. You stared at him for a beat.

“Okay, first of all, if this is a redemption arc, someone forgot to write a better opening scene.” That got a few chuckles. “Second of all, there are no cameras. And there will not be cameras either, so if any of you leak behind-the-scenes footage of me yelling at the lighting cues, I will sue you.” 

The room broke into laughter. The boy held up his hands in surrender. 

Then, a girl piped up from the back. “So… you’re really staying?”

You looked around at their faces and let out a breath that felt more like a decision than an answer.

You nodded. “Yes. So stop asking before I change my mind.”

A beat passed.

Then you clapped your hands once. “Alright. Let’s do something terrible before it gets good.” You turned to Harriet and handed her the script. “You’re on book duty. Anyone needs a line, go to her.”

Harriet gave you a look like she was trying very hard not to smile.

Soon enough, the whole room was in chaos. Kids dragging chairs across the floor, bumping into each other, laughing too loud, slipping into exaggerated accents for no reason. 

The cast had been picked, most of them by Harriet who ran the auditions just before everything turned into a mess a few weeks ago. They more or less knew the script, at least the parts they were in. It wasn’t a full read-through kind of day anyway. You were mostly blocking a few key scenes, trying to see who could remember their lines under pressure and who needed their cues whispered from behind a prop table.

Someone tried entering from the wrong side of the stage, again. Two kids were arguing about the new Wicked movie. A pair of best friends were giggling so hard in the background that you had to separate them like a school teacher.

You were trying to give notes in between all of it—shouting directions, answering five questions at once, adjusting someone's posture, trying not to lose your mind when the stage lights began flickering, or when the sound of the mic started to cut out. 

You sighed, knowing that you were the one who agreed to work in the same room as Yoongi. And yet, here you were, one lighting fixture away from snapping.

Yoongi was still on that damn ladder, this time closer to the stage, adjusting wires like he had all the time in the world, tossing instructions down to Jungkook, who was elbow-deep in the breaker box near the exit. They weren’t trying to interrupt rehearsal—but they were interrupting rehearsal.

You and Harriet were talking to Theo and Poly, who’d been cast as Ethan—June’s best friend and love interest—and June herself. Theo hadn’t stopped asking questions about his character since rehearsal started, and Poly just stood there, frowning at each one of them.

“So,” Theo said, squinting at his script like it held ancient secrets, “is Ethan supposed to represent the building? Or is the building a metaphor for Ethan?”

Poly pursed her lips. “I don’t think that’s…”

You blinked. “Uh…”

Harriet jumped in before you could finish. “I think the building represents June, actually,” she said thoughtfully. “And everything inside it kind of symbolizes parts of her. Including Ethan.”

You nodded slowly, doing your best not to sound confused. “Yeah. That’s… exactly what I was going to say.”

“But what if Ethan is the building? Like, metaphorically. But also kind of spiritually.”

You paused, wondering how he came up with that thought at all. “Theo...”

He perked up like you were about to confirm his theory.

“You’re not a building,” you said, deadpan. “You’re just a boy who likes a girl who is a building. Emotionally.”

Harriet nodded, hoping everything was clearer now, but the frown on Theo’s face said otherwise. “How is she… a building?” He asked. 

You opened your mouth to answer, but then, the harsh whine of a drill tore through the room, sharp enough to make a few kids flinch.

Your head snapped towards the back, where Yoongi was crouched by the lighting rig, focused on screwing something into a wooden panel. Oblivious. Or pretending to be.

You forced a smile, teeth clenched. “Love that for us,” you muttered.

Yoongi didn’t look up.

You reminded yourself that you agreed to work in the same room as him, but you still couldn’t find it in yourself not to complain. 

He finally glanced over, one brow raised. “Just fixing the lights.”

“Sure,” you muttered, trying to regain control of the room. “Maybe next time, though, you could fix the sound system while you’re at it. You know, keep things interesting.”

The kids snickered nervously, clearly unsure whether to laugh or stay out of it.

Yoongi gave a small, unreadable smile, “That’s next.” 

You blinked, then raised an eyebrow. “Great. Just give me a heads-up before you demolish the stage—we would love to watch the show.” You heard a couple kids laughing under their breaths, but Yoongi just smirked and came back to drilling. “Okay, where were we? Right, Theo, June is bonded with the building, they have many similarities...”

You managed to move on, with the help of Harriet, who tried to explain how June and The Alley had similar stories to everyone in the cast so she wouldn’t answer the same questions over and over again.

For a moment, it worked. The rehearsal went slow but chaotic, but it was nothing that you weren’t expecting. The line delivery was still bad, cues were missed and someone kept knocking over a prop chair no matter how many times you moved it out of the way. The sound glitched every now and then, cutting off halfway through a cue, making someone lose their timing, most probably Theo. The lights kept flickering, but you told yourself it was alright. 

There was something about it that made your heart warm. The kids were messy, overly passionate, but they were trying, and that counted for something. Harriet hovered by your side, notebook in hand, whispering little adjustments to you between scenes. You corrected blocking, gave line notes and reassured Poly when she forgot her monologue. It was the kind of chaos that made your head hurt, but also reminded you why you were there.

And for a little while, you forgot about a certain demonic presence in the room. Almost.

Then, another interruption, but this time you couldn’t ignore it like you were planning to do. This time, it wasn’t the sound system or that annoying drilling sound, it was his voice. 

“That panel shouldn’t be used,” he said from the back, voice deep and arms crossed as he nodded towards one of the wood panels the kids had dragged to the stage. 

You turned around to see him, giving the most lethal look you could give to anyone. He didn’t flinch. “Why is that?” You asked, impatiently. 

“It’s flagged and marked for disposal.” He explained, as he continued to work “If we use it and someone gets hurt, the insurance won’t cover it. That kind of negligence puts the theater at legal risk.”

You nodded, jaw tight, trying to remind yourself that he wasn’t doing this to be annoying—even if that was exactly how it felt. “Right. Thanks for the thrilling legal insight.”

“I am the lawyer here,” He said, like you could’ve possibly forgotten.

A few of the kids glanced between you, sensing the tension and trying very hard not to smile. Including Jungkook. 

You gave him a smile. “Yes, and our part time set designer, noise machine, and safety police. We didn’t forget.”

He snorted. “Multitasking. You should try it sometime.”

Harriet let out a gasp and then covered her mouth, pretending to cough. 

You clapped your hands. “Alright, listen up. We’re not using the panels, you heard our lawyer here. If you have any legal questions, I’m sure he’ll be happy to answer. Now come back to your positions before our legal team shut us down.” 

You turned back to the stage, feeling your pulse in your ears. God, this was stupid. You couldn’t react this way every time he opened his mouth, you couldn’t let him get under your skin, not when he was not even trying. 

You turned back to the stage, jaw tight. Let it go. He was right. Technically. And that was the worst part, he always had a way of being technically right. You should be used to it by now.

You didn’t have time for this. Not now.

Everyone kept going. You checked the time on your phone and realized there were only forty-five minutes left of class. After that, you could finally do what you actually came here to do: nothing, and you were genuinely excited about it.

You had your whole day planned: eat with your mom and Phil, take the longest nap imaginable, then wake up and lie in bed with Minnie’s cat until you got hungry enough to drag yourself up and find something to eat.

You thought nothing—not even Yoongi— could ruin it, even if he seemed to be trying really hard to do it.

But, as if he was on cue, his voice echoed through the stage like he was part of the cast himself. 

“Okay, the scene was good, but still rough around the edges. We have time to fix it, don’t worry.” You said, turning to the cast “Poly, I liked the pauses, you have great timing. Just remember that she is not trying to hold back, she’s all-in from the start, speak louder next time.”

Poly hummed, eyes on her script as she quietly mouthed her lines again.

The room went quiet, ready to dive in into the scene again, when the heavy doors creaked open drawing everyone’s attention—everyone except you, whose attention was fixed on the man standing below the stage, who happened to open his mouth again.

“You know, technically, she couldn’t just file a petition like that without legal standing.” He said nonchalantly, making you snap your head towards him.

You paused, confused. “Wait, what?”

Being completely clueless that he wasn’t being welcomed by you, he tried to explain himself “She needs to be a leaseholder, or at least have legal representation,” He said. “If not, that whole scene about the petition is pretty off.”

You weren’t sure what he was doing now. Wasn’t there an unspoken agreement between you two? Some silent rule you both were supposed to obey whenever you happened to breathe the same air. Something along the lines of no talking, no staring, no getting too close.

At least, that was the rule you’ve been following for the past four years. You thought he understood that. You thought he felt it too.

You stared at him. “Is that… really the note you felt we needed right now?”

He shrugged, like this was just helpful feedback. “If the goal is to be convincing—”

“Right. Thank you. Because legal accuracy is something essential in community theater.”

Yoongi tilted his head, still annoyingly calm. “You’re the one who said it needed to feel real.”

You didn’t even try to smile. “Yeah. Emotionally. Not in a way that’s going to put people to sleep.”

He opened his mouth again, but you cut him off. “Unless you want to audition for Guy Who Shouts Legal Objections From the Back of the Room, maybe let me direct?”

He paused, his brows lifting ever so slightly. You weren’t sure if he was about to keep pushing or finally let it go.

“Sure. You’re in charge,” he said, backing off.

You already had a sharp retort loaded on your tongue before he even opened his mouth, but as your gaze drifted towards the seats, you caught sight of Minnie, who had just slipped into the theater.

She was staring straight at you, arms crossed and eyebrows raised in that quiet, deadly way of hers. Okay, you got it, that was it. You decided to save it for now. 

It was always safest to assume that every man who had ever lived knew the first universal rule of a girl’s handbook: best friends told each other everything.

You were surprised when you came across men who didn’t know about it—like when you had a fight with Ian, and he would get annoyed when you ran to tell Minnie everything about it. Minnie would laugh and say that it was his fault for thinking that you would keep a secret from the person who has been your only confidant for most of your life.

Thinking about it now, Minnie was a nightmare to have as your girlfriend’s best friend. She wanted to know everything, every single detail, every word exactly as it was spoken, as if she had been in the room when you fought with your boyfriend. And you were probably a nightmare to have as a girlfriend, too, because you told her everything.

It was the first rule in a girl’s handbook: best friends told each other everything. As class came to an end and the room filled with overlapping voices, kids repeating lines as they hopped off the stage and chairs being dragged noisily back into place, you glanced at Yoongi, his hair a mess and hands still smudged with dust, and wondered if he’d ever heard of that rule. If not, Minnie made sure he did by the end of the morning.

She stayed to watch the end of the class, saying goodbye to every single kid as they left. When the door closed behind the last of them, the room suddenly fell silent, the only sounds were the distant voices of Yoongi and Jungkook, and Minnie’s steady step as she made her way towards you. 

You were zipping up your backpack when she spoke.

“You,” she said, making you look up. “And you.”

She pointed at you, then at the man standing in the back of the room.

“Mind joining me in my office?” she said, voice calm, but carrying enough weight to make it clear it wasn’t really a question. For a second, you and Yoongi exchanged glances, like two kids getting caught sharing notes in the middle of class.

God, it was your first day and you already screwed it up. You couldn’t even blame it on someone else. 

Yoongi exhaled slowly, and you could already feel the tension in your shoulders returning. You threw a quick, weary glance at him before following Minnie’s lead.

You walked towards the office, Yoongi trailing behind you. The building was quieter now, the murmur of the rehearsal fading into the distance. Once inside, Minnie closed the door behind you.

You searched your best friend’s eyes for a moment, looking for some kind of reassurance—but she didn’t look at you. She didn’t seem angry, not exactly, but she wasn’t happy either. Honestly, she had every right not to be. You could admit that much, at least.

“Okay, can you, uh… explain what that was?” she asked, settling into the chair in front of you. Neither of you knew what the right move was, but apparently, standing there looking dumb was it. Minnie shook her head, already regretting the question. “Actually, no. Don’t even bother. I already know.”

You gulped, suddenly nervous. You definitely weren’t expecting to get scolded by your best friend today.

“Okay, I don’t know how to say this the right way.” She pinched the bridge of her nose. “I’m well aware the two of you aren’t exactly on speaking terms. But I did think you could be in the same room without trying to rip each other’s throats out.” She looked up at you then, gaze soft but pointed. “You promised me you had no problem with him being around here.”

You felt your face heat up immediately. Your eyes widened just a little. “Minnie, I—”

“And you.” She interrupted, pointing at the man standing beside you with crossed arms. “I certainly wasn’t expecting you to behave like another teenager, Yoongi.”

Yoongi shifted his weight. You didn’t look at him, but you could hear the quiet sigh before he tried to speak.

“Minnie…” He started, voice low.

“Sorry. I’m not in the mood to hear any of this.” She raised a hand, cutting him off before he could go further. “I don’t care who started it, or what the hell it was even about. Whatever happened between the two of you in the past is none of my business. In fact—” She gestured vaguely toward the hallway. “Kill each other off if you must. But do it in the parking lot, or the park across the street. Not here. Not in front of the kids.”

Silence followed.

You stood still, realizing it was the first time someone had brought up what happened between you and Yoongi in a very long time. And it made your skin crawl. 

Yoongi stayed quiet too. You could feel his presence beside you, the way he slightly shifted, the sound of his fingers tapping once against his arm. It wasn’t much, but it told you he was biting something back. 

Minnie let out a long sigh and dropped into her chair again. For a moment, the only sound was the faint creak of the seat and the tension still thick in the room.

Then her voice softened.

“Listen, I don’t want to be a dick,” she muttered, rubbing her forehead. “If I could put you in separate rooms so you never had to see each other again, I would. Gladly.”

She looked between you, then leaned forward a little.

“But Yoongi’s working on the theater for the next month. So are you. Unless we want this place to burn to the ground before December, you’re gonna have to see each other. Even on weekdays. Even when it sucks.”

She exhaled “I’ve got a lot of shit going on right now, so can we please—please, pretty please, just try to get along? For the sake of this place and my mental health?”

You shifted your weight, arms crossed loosely in front of you as you stared at the floor. Minnie's words weren’t wrong. In fact, they hit a little too close to the truth.

“Yeah,” you said finally, your voice quiet but steady. “Okay.”

It was the best you could do without sounding defensive. Or worse, emotional.

You didn’t dare look at Yoongi. Just the idea of meeting his eyes in that moment made your stomach turn, but you heard him humming in response, quietly agreeing, too. 

“Good,” Minnie said, still firm but less sharp now. “Because I can’t babysit you two. I’ve already got a dozen kids to look after. Don’t make me regret trusting you with this.”

You both nodded, like students after detention. You glanced at Yoongi—brief, instinctive—and to your surprise, he didn’t look back either.

Minnie waved a hand toward the door with a final sigh.

“Alright. Go.”

You mumbled a quiet goodbye and turned around, being the first to leave. Your steps were quick, almost impatient, as if putting distance between you and that office might somehow erase the last five minutes from existence.

You gripped the strap of your bag tighter, nails digging into the fabric. Once you were past the main doors, you shut your eyes for a moment and exhaled sharply. 

God, you felt like such a fool. 

You were supposed to be past this. Supposed to be past him. Why couldn’t you just ignore him? Why was he so impossible to avoid? 

You shook your head and started walking again, hoping it might clear your thoughts. But the images from two minutes ago clung stubbornly inside of your mind, replaying in loop.

Then, you felt it. A hand brushing your shoulder.

You flinched and turned around, pulse jumping.

Yoongi stood there. Of course he did.

You hadn’t even noticed he’d followed you out. 

With dirty clothes, dirty hands and hair all messy, he searched for your eyes, soft but filled with concern, biting his lower lip before speaking. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I don’t want you to leave yet.”

You blinked, confused. “What?”

“Please…” he said, his voice low and hesitant. “Let’s talk.”

It wasn’t the words so much as the way he said them—quiet, and so soft it made your heart clench. 

You glanced around, suddenly aware of where you were. It was the same place you were that December night four years ago when you were waiting in line to watch the movie, cold and nervous and stupidly in love.  

You crossed your arms, swallowing the memory like a pill. “I’m not sure I want to talk right now.” Or ever.

Yoongi didn’t flinch. He flexed his jaw a little, and nodded because he knew you were right.  “Yeah,” he said, eyes dropping to the pavement for a second. “I figured.”

The wind tugged at both your clothes, making him shiver, he wasn’t wearing a coat, just that smudged white t-shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. There, in the early afternoon sunlight, you had the chance to look at him, to really look at him after four long years. You hadn’t realized how much he’d changed, how much longer his hair was now, how he only wore one pair of earrings, how his lips looked slightly pinker. He looked older, of course he did. The years had passed, and he couldn’t help but change. He didn’t look like a boy anymore, but like a man—and for some reason, that hurt

He dragged a hand through his hair, sighing. “It’s just… I want to fix this. Not now, if that’s not what you want. But eventually. Just… let me try.”

You stared at him, unsure if you wanted to laugh or scream. “How?”

He let out a breathy, half-laugh, frustrated. “Honestly? I have no fucking idea. But I’ll think of something.”

You gave him a bitter little scoff.

“I’m serious,” he said, stepping forward just slightly, but not too close. “I will.” 

“I’ll need something better than that, Yoongi.”

“I know,” he said, voice low. “I do.”

He hesitated, glancing away for a moment. Then he scratched the back of his neck, a little unsure, a little boyish in the most disarming way. “My mom… she asked me to invite you to dinner one of these days. What if we start there?”

You narrowed your eyes. “Using your mom is cheating.”

That actually got a real smile out of him. Soft and crooked, it made your stomach turn. “I know that too.”

God, you hated how easy it was to remember what that smile did to you.

And yet, somehow, you also knew you were about to say yes.

You hesitated, your fingers fidgeting with the strap of your bag, eyes fixed on a crack in the pavement like it held the answer you couldn’t find inside yourself. Just say no. Walk away. But the words never came.

You sighed, voice low and reluctant. “God, Yoongi… if you piss me off, I swear—”

“I’ll try not to,” he said quickly, biting back a smile. 

You gave him a look over your shoulder, narrowing your eyes. “That doesn’t sound very promising.”

But still—you were already walking.

taglist: @kingofbodyrolls, @overtherainbow35, @namin13 , @p34rluv, @moonchild1, @yoongisoftface , @namgihours @idkjustlovingbts , @yoongisducky , @bangtansmauyeondan , @tarahardcore @wobblewobble822 @secfir @ot72025 @baechugff @heroinanne @mortal-body-timelesssoul @hiii-priestess @wii-wii @jungkookies1002 @busanbby-jjk @acquiescence804 @yoongibaybee @hsbongwater @ot7stansthings @curiouslioncutie @jalexad @lynnibear @benyhime

[reasonsforhope]

"Every year, venomous snake bites kill tens of thousands of people globally, and they permanently disable several-hundred thousands more. Now a team says it has developed an antivenom cocktail that works against a diverse collection of venomous snakes using a process that it hopes could lead to a universal antivenom. Here's NPR's Ari Daniel.

ARI DANIEL, BYLINE: Most people try to avoid venomous snakes. Not Tim Friede.

TIM FRIEDE: My claim to fame is getting bit by snakes.

DANIEL: Friede used to hunt garter snakes growing up in Wisconsin. As an adult, his obsession turned to venomous snakes and the harm they cause people globally. He felt the most dramatic way to raise awareness of the issue was to allow himself to be bitten. Right out of the gate, though...

FRIEDE: I was put in ICU after two cobra bites, and I dropped in a coma for four days.

DANIEL: He recovered and got more careful. Friede estimates he's now been bitten some 200 times. His motivation evolved - to see if he could develop immunity to this swirl of toxins so that his body might provide a road map to making a broader kind of antivenom.

For decades, antivenoms have come from the antibodies generated by animals like horses injected with venoms. But Jacob Glanville, the CEO of the biotech company Centivax, he wanted to find a shared molecular site across multiple venom toxins from different snake species that he could target. And rather than using a horse, Glanville figured that a person who'd been repeatedly exposed to lots of different venoms might have antibodies directed against such a site.

JACOB GLANVILLE: I was calling vivariums hoping for a clumsy snake researcher.

DANIEL: And then he found Tim Friede.

FRIEDE: We need your blood. We need your antibodies.

GLANVILLE: If anybody has broken through the problem of getting the immune system to focus, it's this guy, by this repeated stimulation with all these snakes.

FRIEDE: I'm like, wow. Cool.

DANIEL: So Glanville scanned Friede's blood, poring over the troves of antibodies to find those that bound the neurotoxins of multiple snakes.

GLANVILLE: And we found the ultrabroad antibody that had this very remarkable ability to go bind right on the conserved site that the neurotoxin uses to cause paralysis.

DANIEL: In mice, the antibody worked fully against five snakes - the black mamba and a mix of cobras. Next, Glanville and his colleagues added a small molecule that had already been shown to work against some venoms, and they went back to Friede's blood and found a second broad-acting antibody.

GLANVILLE: And that's when we suddenly saw this coherent protection that was happening across this large panel.

DANIEL: This cocktail of three components offered mice complete protection against 13 species and partial protection against six more, representing venomous snakes from Asia, Africa, Australia, North America and more. There are other antivenoms that can neutralize a diverse set of snakes, but this is the first to do so using synthetic antibodies. The results are published in the journal Cell. David Williams is a scientist who evaluates antivenoms for the World Health Organization who wasn't involved in the research.

DAVID WILLIAMS: It's definitely a step in the right direction because it's answering some of the questions we have about how to properly design universal antibodies.

DANIEL: Williams cautions that further developing this cocktail into a truly universal antivenom will inevitably have its challenges, including doing human trials and expanding its coverage to vipers, which make up about half of venomous snakes. Meanwhile, when Tim Friede heard that his antibodies had helped create this new antivenom cocktail, he says he was happy.

FRIEDE: When I do it, I know I'm doing something for humanity and giving back to science.

DANIEL: Friede is now director of herpetology at Centivax, where the team is planning to test their new cocktail in dogs that have been bit by venomous snakes in Australia."

-via NPR, May 4, 2025

--

Note: This is an even bigger deal than the article makes it out to be. For the most part, each species of snake needs a different antivenom.

But acquiring and storing antivenoms for every species of snake in an area is logistically difficult - and expensive. This means that hospitals - especially in developing countries - often don't have many of the antivenoms for snakes in the region on hand, meaning that people often die even if they do make it to medical facilities. A broad-spectrum snakebite antidote would save so many lives.

[moody-alcoholic]

Cross My Heart

Part 11 - More Then Friends

Summary: eventual poly141 x reader. Enemies to lovers, mini fic.

CW: mentions of blood, its all fluff.

Previous parts - masterlist - next AO3

Enjoy <3

Price, Ghost and Gaz left first. Leaving before the sun was up in a somewhat hectic rush. Their plan was to get over the border then commandeer a car or something. Price said it could be a few days before you hear from them but they will send word. 

Soap sulked down the stairs an hour or so later, when the sun was just peaking through the clouds. You can’t wait to leave here and never come back. The whole blood soaked place can burn to the ground for all you care.

“They left already.” You say as he comes to sit on the sofa next to you.

“I know. Si- Ghost came to say bye.” He shuffles on the couch rubbing his burnt arm. You’ll need to change the dressing before you leave. “We should get going soon. We need to get a car. It’s easier to do while it’s still dark out.” 

You follow Soap’s orders in silence, the lack of sleep is finally catching up with you. You change the dressing as Soap grits his teeth complaining about itching. You have no idea if it’s healing or if its still supposed to look the way it does. It’s only been a day or so anyway. 

When you’re done Soap steals some supplies- mostly food -from the safehouse and you set out to look for a vehicle. It doesn’t take you long to find a rather old looking car, you keep an eye out while Soap hotwires it like he’s done this a thousand times. Before you know it you’re on the road driving back to Sakhra.

“What’re you thinking about?” He asks after at least an hour of silence, you were starting to doze off. His question jolts you awake and you look over at him. 

“Why did you kiss me?” You ask. He smiles.

“I just had to, you’re stunning lass.” He says, it makes you blush. You turn to look out the window of the car. 

“Don’t falter me, a few days ago you would have put a bullet in my head.” 

“Yeah, we’re not merciless killers though.” You scoff, they’re soldiers, they're trained killers. You sit there in silence. 

“You’re a good kisser.” He says suddenly. 

“What- I mean. It was just a kiss.” You say feeling embarrassed, he just laughs. That annoys you, he’s being so chill about it, what if Price found out? What if he finds out then decides you’re a liability?

“You all seem close.” You say trying to move the subject on from you and Johnny. 

“Closer than you think.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“We’re a close unit. Worked together for years. When you spend so much time together, you develop a strong relationship.” He says switching between watching the road and your expression. You have an eyebrow raised, you expected him to continue. 

“Brothers in arms right?” You say, you’ve heard that before from soldiers.

“More than that.” You shake your head scoffing. He’s playing with you, trying to wind you up. What's closer than brothers? 

“You fucking each other or somthing.” You joke back. He doesn’t say anything, you turn back to look at him frowning. He’s just smiling, the cheekiest grin you think you’ve ever seen. “Really? You’re messing with me.” He just laughs, it doesn’t help you decide if he’s joking or not.

You let out a sigh looking out at the winding road. You’re not far now.

____

When you make it back to the ULF base the place is almost empty. You both head straight to the doctor who fixes your stitches and tends to Soap’s arm as well as giving him a pot of burn cream and instructions. 

When you’re done you both go to see Farah. Alex is with her, they both look tired. The table is filled with maps dotted with big red X’s. You look round as Soap catches them up on what happened. You wonder if Price has sent word yet, you hope they’re okay.

“-We take out Konni, before they make it any further south.” Farah says, you look over at them, catching the end of the conversation. 

“We don’t know if Konni are moving or not. Price will be able to give us some idea.” Soap says.

“We could be waiting days for that.” Alex says crossing his arms, he doesn’t have a sling anymore, maybe his arm was just sprained.

“They attacked their own bases?” You ask pointing at the map. 

“They want to shift the blame to us.” Farah says.

“The fact they used American weapons on civilians has got the US all wound up.” Alex says.

“They’re spreading us thin, I’ve already lost 20 men. We can’t fight them on the front without leaving ourselves open to attacks.” Farah sighs.

“You have weapons from the US, why not fight back?” You ask. There’s silence, people look around at you like you’ve just asked them to do something impossible. 

“If we fire on them we lose our advantage.” She says.

“Which is?” Soap asks.

“If the Americans come, they won’t be after us.” She says. You look down at the map, the new line Al Qatala have formed. There’s no news if Konni or Al Qatala forces have made a move from the border, it seems like they’re waiting for the ULF to make a move first. 

It’s too many targets for Farah to handle alone. 

“What about hitting them at the source? Take out the rest of their weapons.” You say pointing at the farm you know they’ve been storing munitions and rockets.

“They were fired from Russia.” Alex said.

“No, they were fired from inside the country. I bet if it's going to be anywhere it’s there.” You tap the map. Farah and Alex look at eachother. 

“A full scale raid is not possible.” She says, stepping back from the table.

“We could go in quiet.” Soap says. “Just the 4 of us.” 

“The place will be heavily guarded. They could have also moved them elsewhere.” Farah says.

“Even if we don’t find the missiles we will deal a pretty big blow to their resources.” Soap says. “You need all the help you can get.” 

“Okay. Tonight, you should get some rest.” Farah says. Soap smiles at her and Alex. He grabs your arm gently pulling you out of the room. You’re heading down to the sleeping quarters before Soap grabs your arm pulling you into a store room. 

“Hey!” You call, you almost trip over something as his hands grab your shoulders and he pushes you up against the wall. Before you have a chance to say anything his lips lock onto yours. His kiss is needy, his tongue pressing into your mouth. You hum, closing your eyes and letting your hands drop to his waist. 

“Johnny.” You breathe as he pulls his lips off you, his mouth moving to your neck. His hands 

“What?” He asks, he’s not stopping though, running his tongue up your neck.

“What if Price found out?” 

“What do you mean?” He says. “Want him to join, I reckon he’ll be down for that.” He chuckles, now you’re convinced he's winding you up. You push your hands up his shirt and he grip your waist, his fingers digging into your skin, you’re sure he’ll be leaving marks. You run your fingers up his chest, feeling each muscle and scar. He’s hairy, you don’t care, now you’re getting needy, his lips running over you sucking on the sensitive spots on your neck. 

He looks up down at you, his hands come to hold your face. “I’m so glad I got you first. I thought I was going to have to fight off Gaz, or Price.” You frown at him but before you can press him further he kisses you. You drop your hands from his chest, gripping his waist and pulling him closer to you. 

Suddenly there’s a knock at the door. You freeze, you didn’t think anyone knew you were in here.

“Soap? There’s word from Price.” it’s Alex’s voice. Johnny smiles down at you.

“We’ll finish this later.” He says quietly before reaching over to open the door. You feel yourself blushing as Alex raises an eye at you both. Johnny slaps him on the shoulder and they walk away.

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