#going through my drafts and found this and now its out for public consumption

[permit-it]

you SHOOT enjolras? you shoot his body like a pheasant? oh! oh! jail for the monarchy for One Thousand Years!!!

[furubaa]

Notes on Mushishi - Vol 1 & 2

This is the start of my personal notes on every Mushishi chapter (anime ep # in brackets). I’ve reread the manga over and over again looking for specific stories, so this is just for easier reference. 

VOLUME 1

1 - The Green Gathering (S1E1, The Green Seat)

Ginko learns of a boy who can create life by drawing or writing and decides to pay him a visit 

“The green here is so vivid it’s eerie”

A personal invitation to a banquet, presented with clear sake in a shallow green saucer - the exquisite scent of kouki, the water of life. 

The dull pain of being frozen mid-transformation, one foot out the door; realisation of emptiness, and yearning for a full exit from the world

Color seeping out of an untouched brush; power passed down the generations

Everything covered in moss where the kouki soaked in the ground

2 - The Soft Horns (S1E3, Tender Horns)

Ginko is summoned to cure villagers from hearing problems caused by Mushi, and to cure the village head’s grandson Maho, who has sprouted four horns on his forehead.

A quiet village deep in the mountains where even the wind does not pass; absolute silence on snowy nights, when even the sound of your voice disappears.

Bombarded with a flood of sounds, the spirit tires, and body weakens til death. The murmuring of a single Mushi is a microscopic sound, until made aware of the trillions of Mushi clamouring all over the world, calling to each other like echoes.

An intimate gesture of protection - the sound of your mother. A volcanic eruption seen long ago. The lava inside of you, dissolving everything.

3 - The Pillow Path (S1E4 The Pillow Pathway)

Ginko pays a visit to a man named Jin who has premonitions in his dreams as a result of a Mushi affliction caused by Imeno no Awai. 

4 - The Light in the Eyelids (S1E2 The Light of the Eyelid)

Ginko visits a girl named Sui, who is suffering from a Mushi affliction that has made her eyes sensitive to light.

“Behind your eyelid you have another eyelid.” 

There's a river of light flowing underground that illuminates even the pitch black; there has to be total, true darkness to see it. “Light particles come from very far away/ and they flow past me.” “Stretching out for eternity at your feet”

Ginko sitting on the opposite side of the river bank; a warning from a stranger.

“You spent too much time in the dark with Sui” ... Mushi that breed in the darkness. 

5 - The Traveling Bog (S1E5 The Traveling Swamp)

Ginko is traveling through the mountains to see his friend, Adashino. Along the way, he meets a girl named Io, who lives inside a swamp that is capable of moving by itself.

Ginko finding himself travelling in step with a swamp that sinks into the earth and then floats up over and over again, passing through the mountains

A girl sacrificed to save her village from a flood, wearing ceremonial robes; a bride presented to the water god, pushed off a cliff in a storm.

A large green thing that calmly rose up through the raging water; swimming at the bottom of a river that was overflowing its banks. It said, “You should continue to live.”

“When people drink them, their bodies become transparent... and then, they flow away.” Choosing to become Mushi is to exist between life and death; slowly wearing away at your human heart.

Following the journey of a ten thousand year old swamp to its death; moving towards the sea, the dying form of a liquid mushi. Accompanying it on its final journey.

“Swamps are born, eventually they stagnate, and when the universe they have contained within themselves ends... they get up on their own and start to move.”

VOLUME 2

6 - The Mountain Sleeps (S1E11 The Sleeping Mountain)

While traveling, Ginko passes through a town settled near a mountain. He learns that a Mushi Master is living on the mountain, but hasn't visited the village for quite some time, and every person who had been sent to find him has fallen ill and died.

“A smell both sweet and rancid that rises from the ground and touches each leaf. One by one. Coiling around them and choking their skin. A light vein, where the river of light flows.”

Ginko tapping into a mushi that acts as the mountain's nerves, sinking their wills into the plants and running around. 

“The water of life (...) Women bear children like cats or dogs; twins, triplets, or even quadruplets, abandoned in the mountains.”

A travelling Mushishi who puts his roots down. The one he loves committing an unforgivable act so that they can be married. Assuming the role of a slain mountain boar god; his bones will lie here. 

An aged man, summoning an immortal spirit to take his place of guardian forever - a necessary sacrifice to return the world to natural order.

7 - The Sea of Brushstrokes (S1E20 A Sea of Writings)

Ginko comes to a house which has a library full of mushi-related scrolls. There, he meets the girl who writes the scrolls, and hears the story of the curse that has been afflicting her family for generations.

A large dark crypt; an enormous library of scripts recording ancient history

Scribes cursed with immobility and marked for death, the only way to quell the Mushi is to seal them with words. A tradition of inviting travelling Mushishis to feed the writers myths in order for them to expel their words, physically manifesting them, an excruciating process for survival of self - and if not, the survival of your descendants. Plucking words and returning them to order, duty. Little by little, a receding scar. 

8 - They That Breathe Ephemeral Life (S1E6 Those Who Inhale the Dew)

Ginko's services are requested by a boy named Nagi, who lives on a distant island, to investigate the case of Akoya, a girl revered by the people as a "Living God".

A brief moment during the spring tide is the only time you can get to the island; only safe one day per month to take a boat out. a barren island with little soil, villagers surviving with moral support from their god. 

Tapping the center of the forehead with a needle, a curlicule of a mushi spiralling out

“When i was the Ikigami and aged when the sun set i could always shut my eyes and fall asleep feeling satisfied (...) But now my legs tremble at the immense amount of time ahead of me.” Living Mushi's life cycle of a single day - every second of every day experienced fresh, so much wonder you can't keep up. “My heart was always satisfied.”

When faced with tragedy, the girl finally chooses to return to the state of suspension - the luxury to forget and detach from mortal burden.

9 - Rain Comes and a Rainbow is Born (S1E7 Raindrops and Rainbows)

Ginko encounters a man named Koro, who has a strange habit of pursuing rainbows, and helps him find one particular rainbow that he is looking for - the Kouda.

A father delirious for rain - a strange man running around happily, and a mysterious rainbow dancing in odd shapes. A body that thirsts - “I miss that rainbow so much… I can’t stand it.” 

A boy who runs away to escape the burden of a dying father; to prove his worth and his father’s.

Ginko who must travel constantly, taking a break by finding purpose in small goals - You can’t live only for the sake of living; rest is essential. 

A natural phenomena created from light and imbued with kouki - “There's a reason they occur, but they have no purpose - existing only to keep flowing. Nothing can affect them, but they affect those around them, and then they leave.”

* 10 - The Veil Spore (S1E21 Cotton Changeling)

A couple summons Ginko to investigate their sick child, Watahiko, who has developed green spots all over his body. The father explains that the child didn’t look human when born - instead, it was a strange green mass that swiftly escaped. A year later, he found a baby under the house.

A wedding procession that passes through a forest - “A green stain on my cotton wedding gown.” A boy born green and formless, that slipped out and under the house. The main body; a mat of spores spreading under the house, dirt that wriggles under the sun.

One year later, it sends out a human-mushroom; every half year, the same child born again and again. Harmless children joined together at the root, that exist only to collect nutrients, that die and spit out seeds. “Mushi that wear the skin of your dead child.”

The human instinct to kill everything we don’t understand.

A baby with a body that grows faster than the mind. Children that evolve rapidly - “After learning words i forgot how.. I forgot how.” The primal instinct for survival lost. The cost of intelligence.

The Watahiki, when faced with danger, disconnects its children from the root, in an attempt to save at least the seeds - the children change form and enter a long dormant period.

An organism that strays from its recorded life cycle. 

Not that I’m doing this for public consumption (who even is going to read all this) but anyways FYI I’ve got structured notes on the next volumes in my drafts & if I ever get round to finishing all of them they’ll be tagged as #mushishi notes 

[kerikaaria]

Hanging by a Thread

(Yoongi x Taehyung) Oneshot, Soulmate!au

Genre: (NC-17) ANGST. BUCKETS OF ANGST. With some fluffy fluff.

Warnings: Alcohol consumption (just some friends hanging out and going to a bar and club, nothing crazy), mentions of past abuse (undetailed and brief), homophobic side character, brief mention of minor character’s death (happened in the past)

WC: 16.3k

Description: Yoongi thinks he is unlovable, and Taehyung doesn’t believe in soulmates. When they meet, Yoongi feels a spark of hope that maybe, just maybe, this person can love him the way he craves. Except, Taehyung only gives Yoongi a single glance before walking away, taking the last piece of his heart with him.

A/N - This fic is submitted for the “Dishonest Love” project for Valentine’s Day 2021 with @thebtswritersclub​ ! It was something that the amazing @eternalseokjin​ had pitched to me months ago when I said I wanted to write something angsty but didn’t know what, and here it is, FINALLY done! It’s also my first official MxM fic, in honor of the great MxM writer who pitched me the idea. Thank you, Dean! <3

Also, I had wanted to get a beta reader for this but.... I literally just finished and am posting it LITERALLY last minute after quickly reading and editing through myself. So if there’s stuff I missed, sorry! I hope it still reads well!

Yoongi walked into the now familiar building, easily directing himself to the third floor as usual. He had been routinely coming here for a few weeks now, and he found himself looking forward to his meetings with Jimin. The building itself was a bit smaller than he had originally expected for an entertainment company, and he remembered needing to stop and take a look around the first time he walked through the front doors. The lobby was rather welcoming, not so monochrome and sleek as many other businesses liked to keep their interiors.

The comfy-looking couches in the seating area were complementary tones of brown and blue, the plants placed nearby looking much more real than the plastic ones found at Yoongi’s workplace. The bit of actual life brought into the lobby just added to the much more welcoming feel here, something Yoongi had really come to appreciate these past weeks. Wall-length windows brought plenty of natural light into the open room, and along with the colorful but tasteful art hanging on the walls, the area emitted a warmth that reached into Yoongi’s bones. Much different from the cold atmosphere he was used to.

He didn’t even need to stop at the reception desk on his way in anymore since the staff easily recognized him. After the first week, he didn’t need to schedule appointments anymore either. He and Jimin would text and arrange their own times when they were available to meet.

Walking into the studio they were using, that now had temporary touches of Yoongi as well since he spent a fair amount of time working there, was more than natural by this point. It even felt more comfortable than his own studio lately.

Jimin smiled lazily at Yoongi. “Hey, Yoongi!”

“Hey, Jimin,” Yoongi responded as he pulled out the couple pieces of equipment he liked to use and always brought with him since they weren’t available here. “I have a demo to share with you today.”

Jimin’s eyes widened in excitement. “Really? Let me hear it!”

Yoongi chuckled. “Let me get set up first, huh?”

The first meeting Yoongi had with Jimin weeks ago went better than he had expected. He seemed to be just about as nice and personable as he acted in public, which was something Yoongi certainly couldn’t say for many of the other artists he worked with. By the end of it, he felt like he had a pretty good understanding of the type of song that Jimin was hoping to sing.

To be honest, Yoongi was surprised his company even agreed to let him meet with Jimin at all. This certainly wasn’t the first time someone from another label had requested a song produced by SUGA, but it was the first that his company approved. Usually they’d instantly refuse the request, wanting to keep Yoongi’s work exclusively for them.

Maybe they felt like Jimin wasn’t enough of a threat to compete with their own artists. But even just from the research Yoongi had done prior to meeting him, listening to his music and watching a few interviews to get an idea of who he’d be working with, he knew better. Jimin might not have been at the top, but he had been steadily gaining popularity since he first debuted a few years ago. He for sure had the talent, not only in singing but also dancing, and with just the right song and publicity he was sure Jimin would become a force to be reckoned with in the industry.

Working with Jimin on this song had been more than a breath of fresh air for Yoongi as well. The label Jimin belonged to didn’t feel the need to dictate every step they took with the song, letting them have the freedom to come up with a song that was a pleasant middle ground between what Yoongi wanted to write and what Jimin wanted to perform. Which surprisingly enough, was much less of a middle ground and more like almost exactly what both of them wanted.

After getting everything set up and pulling up the track that he finished putting together last night, Yoongi pressed play. It was still rather rough, needed finetuning and a more solid melody to go with it, but Yoongi felt like he managed to write something that both of them would be happy with.

The first few demos he made didn’t quite fit the bill, either Jimin not liking it as much as Yoongi wanted him to, Yoongi himself not being completely happy with the outcome, or a combination of both. But this one, he felt was different. He had a feeling this song was going to be it.

A smile quickly spread on Jimin’s face as he listened, giving away that he was indeed pleased with the song. He refrained from commenting until after the last beat had finished, but as soon as it did words flooded from him.

“Wow, that sounds amazing! It’s almost like you looked into my mind and managed to turn exactly what I was hoping for into a reality. I absolutely love it!”

Yoongi tried not to feel embarrassed from the praise as he smiled to himself. “Well, I mean my notebook filled with notes on what you wanted your song to be is pretty much that.” He shrugged. “I just wrote something based on those notes, and based on what I wanted to do.”

“I might be prejudiced,” Jimin said, “but I really think this might even end up being better than all your other songs,” Jimin said, tone light but seeming to only be partially joking. “It just sounds more… I don’t know. More real? Like not as artificial or manufactured.”

When Yoongi stared unmoving at Jimin for a moment, the singer backtracked a bit. “That’s not to say that your songs are bad, or anything! I really love them! It’s why I asked if we could reach out to your company, see if you could write me a song. But, I don’t know. It just sounds different.”

“I agree,” Yoongi admitted, nodding. “Sometimes I don’t even recognize my own work by the time it ends up being released, to be honest.”

Jimin furrowed his brows at him. “What do you mean?”

The elder casually shrugged. “It’s nothing. But if this gets through, I think I’ll be really happy with it.”

Jimin smiled brightly, eyes almost closed from the force of it. “Everyone will love it. I just know it.”

Yoongi was a pretty reserved person, finding very few people who he considered friends. But despite not being nearly as social or chatty as Jimin was, he found himself hoping that even after their song was done and released that they would keep in touch.

During the second week of working together, he had caught himself staring at the string on his finger that was only visible to himself many times. It was almost as if he hoped that it would suddenly connect to the other man in the room. Of course, he couldn’t be that lucky. It didn’t bother him, though. He quickly stopped the habit and was perfectly happy with the friendship that was possibly forming between the two of them.

However, it wasn’t much longer that he had to wait for the string that usually faded out into nothing to finally connect to its other end. In fact, it was later the same day that Yoongi had played the first draft of what they finalized as the new song for Jimin.

Yoongi was on his way back to his apartment when he felt it. A tiny tug on his hand that he barely noticed at first. But just a moment later, there it was again. When he looked down, he could see that it was the thread attached to his finger, the string longer than usual and pulled taut.

His heart sped up at the idea of his soulmate being nearby. After 26 years, he thought he’d never meet them. That he was just doomed to be alone and never feel loved. But his soulmate would love him, wouldn’t they? They had to.

Yoongi followed the string, trying to focus on that single task and not think too hard about who could be on the other end. The red thread was leading him toward a higher end clothing store, growing even longer the closer he got until he was standing just outside of the entrance to the shop.

He took in a deep breath, preparing himself before pulling the glass door open.

Once he was inside, the thread no longer tapered off into nothingness, but instead finished its path. Yoongi carefully followed it until he found the person it was connected to. He slowly took in the figure, feeling all of his breath leave him at once.

On the other end of the string was the most handsome man Yoongi had ever laid his eyes upon, perusing a rack of colorful shirts. Curly dark locks just long enough to fall into his eyes, facial features striking enough for him to be a model, and a gorgeous tan to his skin.

Yoongi was speechless, suddenly unsure of how to approach this man who was made to be his soulmate. He couldn’t help the brief feeling that he looked vaguely familiar, but shrugged it off. He would have certainly known if they met before. Worried that he would come across as a creep just staring at the stranger, he turned around to find something in the store to pretend to contemplate buying—although everything here was more expensive than what he’d usually buy.

As he started walking in the other direction he felt the tug on his hand once more, the string apparently wanting him to keep approaching the man on the other end. Yoongi looked over his shoulder to see if the other had noticed, and he froze when he met the beautiful man’s gaze.

The stranger’s eyes flickered down, clearly looking at the red thread tying them together. He then glanced up once more, again meeting Yoongi’s line of sight, before starting to walk in his direction.

Yoongi opened his mouth as the handsome man approached, ready to introduce himself to his soulmate. But before he could even get a syllable out, the man had walked right past him, opening the door and leaving the store. He didn’t look back even once.

Yoongi could feel the string pulling and tugging, not wanting the two of them to be separate after it had finally connected. The line remained taut, not dimming or fading out for a few moments. But then Yoongi could have sworn he felt it snap as it slackened, the string falling and its connection fading out into nothingness and resuming its usual length on Yoongi’s finger, a little duller than it had been before.

Yoongi stood in the middle of the store, unable to move. He had waited for 26 years to meet his soulmate, the one person in this world that he had hoped would be able to love him, only for him to walk away without a word.

“Sir, if you’re not going to buy anything, would you please leave?” a store associate said, returning Yoongi’s mind to the present.

He bowed in apology before walking out the door, staring wistfully in the direction that his soulmate had left.

Apparently not even fate had the power to make someone love him.

By the time Yoongi downed his third beer, Namjoon was looking worried. But he wasn’t going to ask. That was one of the things Yoongi loved about his best friend. He could read him like an open book, but also knew that if there was something to talk about he would come to it in his own time. Namjoon didn’t push or pressure him to talk before he was ready, just waited for him to be.

When Yoongi had knocked on Namjoon’s door with an abundance of beer and chicken wings, the latter already knew that something was up and his friend needed company. His understanding wife called her own friends to arrange a night out and let the men have the house to themselves. She was also Yoongi’s friend, but she knew this was something that only Joon could help with.

It wasn’t until the fifth beer that Yoongi had enough liquid courage in him to tell Namjoon what was on his mind. Gripping the half-empty bottle, he muttered out the words he never thought would end up being as solemn as they were.

“I met my soulmate.”

Namjoon’s eyes widened as he took a good look at the elder. “Seriously?” Answered with a single nod, he only became more confused. “So what’s wrong?” he carefully asked. “I figured when that happened we’d be drinking to celebrate, but you’re not exactly in a celebratory mood.”

Yoongi took in a deep breath in preparation for the next words he would mutter. “He took one look at me and walked away. Didn’t even say a word.”

The look on Namjoon’s face fell into solemn understanding. “Oh,” he said. “Yeah, that… That explains it.”

“Am I that disgusting?” Yoongi asked, looking up at the other earnestly. “Am I that ugly? That undesirable? Just one look, and he hated me already.”

“I highly doubt that, Yoongs,” Namjoon said. “First off, you’re not ugly. You’re actually very good looking, and not at all disgusting. But to hate someone just by looking at them without knowing anything about them? Impossible. Are you sure he saw you?”

“He looked me right in the eyes, Joon,” Yoongi said exasperatedly, harshly setting his bottle down on the table. “Looked me in the eyes, looked back at our string, then walked right past me and out the door.”

Namjoon chewed on his bottom lip in thought. He was going to try to rationalize, just like his smart brain always did. Always trying to think logically before emotionally. “Maybe he had never been interested in men before,” he suggested. “It may have been a shock to him to see that his soulmate was a man.”

“I don’t know. He didn’t look shocked or confused or anything. He had the most blank expression on his face. Like he just didn’t care.”

Namjoon opened his mouth to say something, but decided against it, looking away. But Yoongi had a pretty good idea what he was thinking. That maybe he was one of those people who didn’t care about soulmates. It wasn’t very common, but not unheard of. Maybe that was him, maybe he was already in a relationship. But did he have to just ignore Yoongi, though?

“But did he have to just ignore me, though?” Yoongi voiced his last thought. “He could have said something, at least.”

Shrugging, Namjoon took a swig from his second bottle. “It would have been nice of him to, definitely. I’m sorry man, I really don’t know what to say other than whether it’s your soulmate or not, you’ll find someone for you.”

“Yeah, the odds aren’t looking too good for that,” Yoongi scoffed before chugging almost the rest of his bottle.

“I’ve already said it so many times, but I’ll say it again,” Namjoon said, honest and strong gaze fixated on his friend. “You’re worth love, Yoongi. Regardless of how others have treated you in the past. They don’t matter. And if this soulmate of yours really doesn’t want to even give you a chance, then he doesn’t either. You’re worthy of being loved, deserve to be loved. The right person will come around eventually.”

Yoongi wanted to argue, but he knew he wouldn’t win. When it came to this topic, Namjoon would always have the last word, refusing to let Yoongi believe anything else. Every time he had been hurt, whether it was by yet another person who found his sexuality disgusting or someone who told him all the right words only to break his heart in the end, Namjoon was always there. He always gave him the ‘you’re not worthless’ speech. While Yoongi was heavily inclined to not believe it, it had always been enough to at least keep him going.

The two fell back into silence—not uncomfortable, but still heavy with the weight of Yoongi’s heart. It didn’t matter if no more words were exchanged until they decided they were done drinking and went to sleep. Yoongi would fall asleep next to his best friend, at least comforted by the fact that even if he never found someone who would love him the way he craved, he had someone who did love him in some way and would never leave him alone.

One of the benefits of Yoongi’s personality that he’d realized years ago was that when he was upset about something, the average person was none the wiser. A storm could be brewing in his mind, but because his expression was blank and his eyes had a hardened look to them during even a normal day, no one would have any idea. Well, except for Namjoon.

It meant that he didn’t have people constantly asking him what was wrong. Which he was extremely thankful for when he saw Jimin again two days later, the singer coming to visit Yoongi at his own studio this time. It was possible he took notice that Yoongi was a tad less talkative than normal, but if he did notice anything at all he just shrugged it off easily.

“Do you not like decorating?” Jimin asked after they finished working on the song for the day.

“What do you mean?” Yoongi asked, eyebrows raised.

“I noticed that you don’t really have much of a… personal touch to your studio,” Jimin shrugged.

“Not allowed,” Yoongi mumbled in response as he shut down the computer.

“You’re not allowed to decorate? Not at all?”

“Nope. The studio belongs to the company, not me. I just use it.”

“Huh.” Jimin seemed genuinely confused at the concept. “But like, people who have office jobs are allowed to decorate their spaces. They have pictures at their cubicles, or if they have a room to themselves they can arrange it how they want, can’t they?”

Yoongi shrugged. “I guess. I don’t know. It’s not like the studio we’re using at your company is decorated with your stuff.”

“Yeah, but we’re just borrowing it,” Jimin countered. “After we’re done with the song, someone else will use it. Whenever I visit the producers at our company, their studios are always decorated. Each one looks different, unique to them.”

“I don’t really care either way,” Yoongi said. “It’s just a room.”

The younger’s face scrunched up a bit, deep in thought for a moment. “It just feels like you don’t have much freedom here,” he carefully said after a moment.

“Comes with the territory, I guess,” Yoongi said. “I work for my boss, not myself. He decides what is good and what isn’t.”

“But the tracks you showed me earlier, they sounded so much better than the versions that were released. They were amazing.”

Earlier when they were a bit dry on ideas for the song, Jimin had been curious about demos of some of Yoongi’s other music, and so the producer had decided to play a few samples for him. Yoongi absolutely agreed with Jimin, but it didn’t matter. It wasn’t up to him what was good or not.

“Our company doesn’t do that,” Jimin mumbled, almost too quiet for Yoongi to hear.

But he did. “Do what?” he asked for clarification.

“I mean, it’s not like they don’t ask for revisions on songs if they need some work still,” the singer said. “But our producers have a lot more freedom than it seems like you do here. They’re happy with the versions of their songs that get released. I just wish you could be, too. Your music is absolutely amazing and it deserves to be heard the way you want it to be.”

Unsure of what to say, Yoongi stared at the other, blinking. Eventually, when his mind caught up he said, “Well, nothing I can really do about that at this point.”

Jimin frowned, knowing that he was right. “Well, I’m positive my company is going to love this song we’re releasing,” he attempted to lighten the mood a bit.

“I hope so,” Yoongi said. “I haven’t enjoyed writing a song this much in a long time.”

“Well, I’m honored that it’s a song for me, then,” Jimin said, a smile back on his face. “And I hope that it’s just the start of you enjoying it again.”

Butterflies flying into his chest at Jimin’s kind words, Yoongi found himself glancing at the thread on his finger once again. He already met his soulmate, he knew it wasn’t Jimin. But he couldn’t help but wonder if only.

His expression must have become more readable than usual because it was only a few short moments later when Jimin asked, “Yoongi? Are you alright?”

It took Yoongi a moment to look back up at Jimin. “Have you met your soulmate, Jimin?” he blurted out.

The singer seemed surprised at the sudden question. “My- my soulmate?” His expression changed to the saddest Yoongi had seen him yet. “Well, yeah, I met her. I met her a long time ago. But we’re not together. Why do you ask?”

Yoongi couldn’t help being curious about why that was. But, he realized asking about Jimin’s soulmate was already treading dangerously into overstepping and it wouldn’t be appropriate to keep prodding. “No reason,” he shrugged. “I was just curious. Sorry.”

Jimin’s smile returned. “It’s alright. It’s natural to be curious, I guess. I’m a bit strange for not being with my soulmate, huh?”

“No,” Yoongi immediately responded. “I don’t think you’re strange at all.”

“What about you?” Jimin asked, somewhat hesitantly. “If you feel like sharing.”

Yoongi stared at his string one more time. “I ran into them once in a store,” he said, being careful not to specify gender. “But no, I haven’t properly met them.”

Nodding, Jimin seemed to understand that Yoongi also had left something unsaid but didn’t pry. “Well, whoever they are, they are a very lucky person to be your soulmate.” He was smiling, but the expression on his face was one that Yoongi couldn’t quite read.

The song was an absolute hit. So much so, that Yoongi’s boss seemed incredibly surprised. If he had presented a song like this to his boss, he would have been told to make a ton of changes before it hit the masses. He’d be told it wasn’t good enough, not perfect enough.

However, this song blew up so much faster and stronger than any songs that Jimin released before, and even more than any other song yet produced by SUGA. The love for the track made Yoongi happy, not just because his song that he was really happy with and proud of was getting love, but also because of how much it made his boss question everything he knew.

Barely even a week after the song’s release, Yoongi received a call from the company Jimin worked under. At first, he assumed that maybe it was an effort to try to get more collaborations with him, maybe a short-term contract. But much to his surprise, they were offering for him to work with them permanently.

To say that he was floored would be an understatement.

Switching companies like that was not easy. Especially since Yoongi knew how hard his current company would try to hold onto him, knowing that they’d be losing one of their best and most popular producers. Even if he had somewhere else to go, there were clauses in the contracts that made it difficult for one to just move from company to company. By offering Yoongi the job there, they were also promising to spend the time and money to handle the technicalities in order to ensure his successful transfer.

Shellshocked from the unexpected phone call, Yoongi could only muster a promise that he’d consider the offer before the call ended. It took a few good minutes, but once he was able to gather the remnants of his brain together, he pressed the call button on Jimin’s contact.

“Hey, Yoongi!” the ever-so cheery singer answered. “What’s up?”

“Park Jimin, what did you do?” Yoongi asked, no venom to be found in his voice.

There was silence for a moment while Jimin seemed to think about the question. “What do you mean, what did I do?”

“I mean, why did I just get a call from your company offering to hire me?”

“Oh, that,” Jimin breathed out through a nervous laugh. “Well, I didn’t know they were going to actually call you, for the record. Although, I really am glad that they did. I mean, you really des-”

“Jimin.”

Jimin cleared his throat. “I just asked them if they liked you, and what it would look like if they signed you on as a producer for us. I guess they started thinking about it and decided they wanted to.”

“Why did you do that?”

“You know why. That place doesn’t treat you how they should. You could have so much more freedom here, Yoongi.” After a few moments of silence, Jimin added, “Plus, I really enjoyed working with you. I was kind of hoping that we might be able to write some more songs together in the future.” Another silence. “You’re not mad, are you?” Jimin asked in a small voice.

“No, I’m not mad,” Yoongi replied. “I’m just shocked, is all.”

“Do you know how you’re going to respond?”

Yoongi sighed into the phone. “I’m not sure. I’d have to talk with them and figure out what working there would mean, make sure it’s worth the effort battling my current company to let me leave.”

“Well, let me know when you decide?”

“Yeah, sure.”

It didn’t take long for Yoongi to decide. After asking for more information on the offer, there was no way he would refuse the deal. Not only would he have proper rights to his music—still shared of course, but actually a reasonable percentage compared to what he was currently getting—but he’d also get a higher percentage of royalties. Like Jimin had mentioned, he would get his own studio that he was allowed to decorate and even refurbish, within reason of course. All of that, on top of the experience he’d already had with them not forcing him to change his songs entirely, made the choice a no-brainer.

Apparently, they were already prepared for him to say yes to the offer, quickly going in to get his contract with the current company terminated as swiftly and easily as possible. There was of course still pushback, but it could have been much more difficult if Yoongi’s original employer had been more prepared for it.

That still didn’t stop his boss—ex-boss, rather—from repeatedly asking Yoongi to stay, trying to convince him that he’d give him a better deal. Out of curiosity, Yoongi had humored the idea just to see what he’d come up with. But when the man showed him the new contract he had written up, Yoongi couldn’t help but laugh at it. It wasn’t even close to being as good as what Jimin’s company had offered, and he certainly wasn’t going to be hanging around there either way.

The day the transfer was official, Yoongi couldn’t help but feel excited to go to work for the first time in a long time, other than the days when he got to work on Jimin’s song at least. He already had everything prepared to put into his new studio, equipment he already knew they wouldn’t have there that he preferred, and just a few simple things to start making the space his own.

His spent the first hour or so of the day arranging everything the way he wanted, placing equipment where he could work efficiently, and finding places the his small trinkets he wanted to try decorating with. Afterwards, he texted Jimin to see if he was at the office, wanting to show him his studio. Yeah, it wasn’t really much quite yet, but it was his own space. And he knew Jimin was going to be just as excited as he felt.

Jimin’s quick reply let Yoongi know that he was currently in one of the dance practice rooms, and he insisted Yoongi stopped by.

After taking the elevator one floor down, he could hear laughter coming from the room where he knew Jimin to be. Jimin’s recognizable tinkling laughter was accompanied by an airy, deeper one. It was only one short moment later when he felt a pull on his hand. Furrowing his eyebrows, he glanced down to see that once again, the string attached to his ring finger extended farther and was clearly reaching out to the other end.

Sight following the line, Yoongi’s heart raced when he realized it led into the room where Jimin’s laughter could be heard. Without thinking, his footsteps became more rushed as he neared the door, quickly pushing it open and looking for its occupants.

“Yoongi!” Jimin greeted just as Yoongi’s eyes found them. Sure enough, sitting next to him was the dark-haired man that Yoongi had met in the store that day—his soulmate. “Come meet my best friend!”

Yoongi tried to not let the storm going on inside his head to show in his expression as he approached the two.

“This is Kim Taehyung,” Jimin introduced the mystery man. “Tae, this is Yoongi. Better known as SUGA.”

“Ah, Jimin has been talking a lot about you,” the other man, Taehyung said, no hint of embarrassment or apology for their last encounter in his tone. His voice was deep and rich and sent an involuntary shiver down Yoongi’s spine. “It’s nice to meet you.” A hand, the hand which their string attached to, reached out toward Yoongi.

Hesitantly, Yoongi grabbed it, gently shaking it once. “Nice to meet you too, Taehyung.”

Jimin was incredibly persistent, and it was a problem. Because that meant that it was impossible to ignore Jimin's pleads for Yoongi to go out to a bar with not only him, but Taehyung as well. He said something about wanting two of his favorite people to get along, or something along those lines.

So there he was, sitting in a booth next to Taehyung—under Jimin's insistence again—and feeling stupidly nervous about being in such close proximity to his soulmate. While Taehyung hadn't made any active effort to speak with Yoongi outside of the social obligation to generally not be rude, or to please Jimin when he encouraged the two to interact more, he wasn't acting like anything had ever happened between the two of them before.

This was the same man who walked out of the store to get away from Yoongi. Who saw they were connected by this string and still felt the need to completely ignore him. But he genuinely acted like this was the first time they met, and he most certainly seemed to be intentionally ignoring the fact that they were soulmates.

"Everything okay, Yoongi?" Jimin asked when he hadn’t spoken for a while.

"Hm? Yeah, I'm okay," Yoongi said. "Why?"

"You just, have that look," Jimin answered. “Like you’re deep in thought about something.”

Yoongi’s not sure if he imagined seeing Taehyung glance at him from the corner of his eye. “Ah, sorry. It’s nothing, don’t worry about it.”

A slightly worried look sat on Jimin’s face, obviously unconvinced. However, he seemed to think it best to move on, a smile soon lighting up his features. “So, you haven’t told me how your old boss took your transfer to our company.”

With a light laugh, Yoongi’s face loosened up as well. “It was funny. He tried telling me that he’d offer me a better contract if I was unhappy with the one he had given me. But it was still terrible, definitely not as good as what they offered me. He was trying so desperately to keep me.”

“Yeah, they’re no doubt going to lose money without you,” Jimin said. “Their loss. If they wanted to keep you, they should have treated you better. Your songs are amazing. Right, Tae? We’re always listening to songs you’ve written.”

Yoongi glanced between the two, trying not to linger too long on Taehyung’s undeniably gorgeous face. “Really?”

It was Taehyung who nodded. “Yeah, your music is really great. Some of my favorite songs were written by you.” Yoongi tried to hold in his surprise when Taehyung turned to him and gave him what seemed to be a shy smile.

His heart still felt like it skipped a beat, though.

“Thank you,” Yoongi answered, a small smile of his own returning Taehyung’s before taking a sip of his drink.

“Although, I still have to say that your new song is by far your best,” Jimin said smugly.

Taehyung rolled his eyes. “You’re biased.”

“Am I wrong though?” Jimin challenged.

Taehyung was quiet for a moment before he ultimately just shrugged.

A short, not so uncomfortable silence sat between the three. Yoongi still couldn’t forget that first encounter he had with Taehyung, and was trying his best to not look at his left hand. However, it was slowly getting more comfortable with him thanks to Jimin. He made a mental note for himself to definitely try to talk to Taehyung later about what happened that day.

“So, how did you two meet?” Yoongi decided to ask to keep conversation going.

“I transferred to a new school when I was… what? Twelve?” Taehyung started. “Yeah, that sounds about right. Jimin was the first friend I made there.”

Jimin nodded. “And we’ve been inseparable ever since. He’s my soulmate.”

Yoongi’s brow furrowed in confusion, glancing subtly at his string, which most certainly was connecting to the man sitting beside him.

“Not literal soulmate,” Taehyung nonchalantly clarified. “We call each other that because we were basically just destined to be best friends.”

“Oh, yeah,” Jimin laughed. “I’ve definitely caused a few misunderstandings with that one. I sometimes forget other people still have soulmates.”

Now Yoongi was even more confused. “Still?”

Recognizing what he said, Jimin’s eyes widened before he put a smile on his face, looking somewhat forced. “Oops. I’ll tell you some other time. Don’t want to sour the mood. Anyway, when Taehyung was scouted by our company I was so excited that we’d be able to work close together. It was like a dream come true.”

“You’re signed under the company, too?” Yoongi asked the dark-haired man next to him.

Taehyung nodded. “Yeah. I know I’m not like super famous, but most people recognize me. You don’t?”

Unsure if he should feel embarrassed about the fact that he had no idea what Taehyung was talking about, Yoongi didn’t say anything as he looked between the other two.

“Oh, really?” Jimin finally said, giving Yoongi some relief. “I didn’t realize you didn’t know, sorry. Tae is a model.”

The mentioned man already had a picture pulled up on his phone to show Yoongi. It was obviously from a photoshoot, the image expertly taken to show off all the perfect angles of Taehyung’s face. Now it made sense why he felt like he had recognized him when they first ran into each other. Thinking about it, it wasn’t so surprising. The man really was strikingly handsome.

“Oh, that- that actually makes a lot of sense,” Yoongi said before he could stop himself.

“I know, right?” Jimin cheered from across the table. “It’s like he was made to be a model. He’s absolutely gorgeous. Don’t you think so, Yoongi?”

Yoongi spluttered for a moment, caught off guard by the question being directed toward him. As he felt heat rise to his cheeks, he settled on nodding in agreement. He couldn’t help but think about how that meant he’d probably end up running into Taehyung a lot, then. There was a high chance they’d see each other frequently at the company, and even outside of it if Jimin kept insisting on having them hang out together. Maybe it was a chance to get to know each other, maybe Taehyung could warm up to him and consider giving him a shot.

It was interesting to see a contrast between the two best friends in their drinking behavior. An hour later, Jimin was most certainly well past the point of tipsy, while Taehyung was still sipping on water. Yoongi himself had a few beers, but not anywhere enough to get more than a light buzz.

“Not much of a drinker?” Yoongi tried to make light small talk with Taehyung when Jimin left to go to the bathroom, not for the first time that night.

“Nah,” Taehyung said. “Don’t really like the taste at all. I can tolerate some wine, but that’s about it. Jimin loves it though. Obviously,” he chuckled.

Yoongi just nodded, taking another small sip from his cup.

“Did you say anything to him about this?” Taehyung asked, lifting up his left hand where the red string hang from to connect to Yoongi’s.

“No,” Yoongi replied honestly. “I had mentioned that I ran into my soulmate, but I didn’t know who you were at the time, and I didn’t tell him anything else. Just that we ran into each other once. Did you?”

Taehyung shook his head. “We don’t talk about things like soulmates. Not a great topic for us.” He took in a deep breath. “I want to apologize for that day, though.”

Yoongi’s head snapped to look at him, surprised at the sudden apology.

“I’ve never had much interest in the whole soulmate thing,” he said. “But that doesn’t mean I wasn’t rude. I had had a pretty bad day, not that it excuses my behavior. I just didn’t think. I’m sure you have questions, since I know most people care about this string. I’m not comfortable sharing my life story with you yet or anything like that. But you seem like a nice guy, and Jimin wants us to be friends. I wanted to clear that up so that we can try to be friends. If you wanted.”

“Yes,” Yoongi responded, quickly feeling embarrassed of how fast he did. He cleared his throat. “Yeah, I’d like to be friends. And thank you for that apology.”

The two shared a smile, but didn’t get to say anything else when Jimin came fumbling back to the table and started animatedly talking about some girl that he was sure had been checking him out.

Maybe Taehyung wouldn’t end up being so bad afterall.

This was not going as well as Yoongi had hoped.

It wasn’t that he and Taehyung weren’t getting along well. In fact, they were getting along perfectly fine. Most of the time when Jimin asked Yoongi to hang out, or when one of them would visit the other at the company, Taehyung was there. The more time Yoongi spent with Taehyung, the more he liked the man.

Half of the time, Yoongi would even forget about the fact this handsome, charming, warm-hearted person was his soulmate. He’d just be hanging out with Taehyung. Yoongi felt as though he had been doomed from their first conversation. That as soon as things were friendly between the two of them, it became inevitable for him to be sucked in deeper and deeper, for him to slowly fall for the man.

Okay, maybe not that slowly. It had only been about a month or so, but Yoongi could already tell he was in too deep with no way out. Hence why things were not going well.

Taehyung made no indication to having any interest in Yoongi other than just being friends. He was hands down a great friend and there was nothing wrong with that. But when Yoongi could feel himself longing for Taehyung more and more each day as he saw the string connecting them slowly become duller, things were obviously not okay.

The thing with soulmates was that they weren’t set in stone. No one quite knew how people ended up tied together by some intangible string that only you and your soulmate could see.  There were many theories, mostly spiritual, on the topic but no one had figured it out for sure. However, there was a substantial amount of research put into the topic to decipher as much as humans could about them. One thing that was clear was how the string read emotions. Just because you had become tied to someone didn’t mean you always would be. If there was emotional distance, betrayed trust, or anything else that would drive a couple apart emotionally, the string would reflect that by disappearing. Sometimes slowly, sometimes as fast as a snap of the fingers, depending on each situation.

Every day that Yoongi’s feelings grew stronger for Taehyung, the string faded a little more, becoming more and more transparent. Which meant that while Yoongi had the emotions and felt the connection with him, Taehyung didn’t. Even though Yoongi didn’t know Taehyung’s story of why he didn’t care about soulmates, one thing was made very obvious to him—that Taehyung valued honest, emotional connections more than anything. Yoongi had hoped that as they became closer, maybe Taehyung would start to warm up to him and want to give him a genuine chance, soulmate or not.

Yoongi was, as always, stupidly hopeful.

It was a night where Jimin visited Yoongi at his studio, now much more decorated to reflect his likes and personality when the topic of soulmates was brought up once again.

“You’re staring at your string, aren’t you?” Jimin asked quietly after he had just been gushing his growing crush on his choreographer, which Yoongi had only been paying half of his attention to.

Yoongi looked up from where he had indeed been staring at his left ring finger, apologetically smiling at Jimin. “Sorry. What were you saying?”

The younger remained quiet for a moment before asking, “Have you met them again? Your soulmate.”

Heart clenching, Yoongi nodded. “Yeah, we’ve met properly.”

Another silence sat while Jimin examined Yoongi’s face. He was annoyingly becoming rather good at reading his poker face. “It’s not going well, I take it?”

Yoongi shrugged. “Debatable. It’s going fine, I guess. Just- not where I wish it was going.”

Jimin nodded, taking a moment to stare at his own finger where his string would have been. “It’s been a long time since I had my string,” he said quietly.

It was Yoongi’s turn to examine Jimin’s face, finding a wistful expression as he sighed.

“I met her in high school,” Jimin said, lifting his gaze to Yoongi to check if he seemed okay with the subject change. When Yoongi nodded in encouragement, Jimin continued. “Like the stupid kid I was, I put blind faith into the fact that some red string told us we were supposed to be together. It was fine at first, she was sweet and we had a good time together. I don’t know now if I was legitimately in love with her, or if I just felt like I was supposed to be. But either way, it still hurt more than I could have imagined when I found out she was cheating on me.”

Yoongi’s heart clenched in empathy for Jimin but didn’t have anything he could say. He could understand exactly how that must have felt for young Jimin, having had his fair share of people using and hurting him, but this conversation wasn’t about him.

“You’re forgetting to mention about how she started treating you like shit even before that,” an unmistakable, deep voice came from the entrance to the studio. Taehyung fully entered the room, sitting next to Jimin on the couch and pulling him into his side. “She would insult him in front of friends, convince him to do ridiculous things for her all the time, just generally treated him like he was lower than her and should be lucky she was with him.”

“She wasn’t that bad,” Jimin quietly defended.

“Yes, she was,” Taehyung insisted. “She broke you down and tore you apart before she even decided to cheat on you with that sleazebag. You said your string was already gone by that time.”

Jimin relented, sighing as he lay his head on Taehyung’s shoulder. “I’m just lucky I had Taetae. I don’t know what I would have done without him holding me up.”

Yoongi observed the two of them, Jimin still looking sad as he relived the memories in his mind and Taehyung holding onto him, almost protectively with a hard look on his face. It started to become more clear to Yoongi as to why Taehyung might not care about soulmate connections.

“Some people are assholes,” Yoongi settled on saying. “I’m really sorry that happened to you, Jimin.”

Jimin lifted his head, offering Yoongi a smile that brightened his expression a bit. “It was years ago, I’m okay now. And it doesn’t mean I can’t find someone. Same with you. If things don’t end up working between you and your soulmate, you know that doesn’t mean that you won’t find someone for you, right?”

Yoongi tensed up, trying his best not to look at Taehyung at the mention of his soulmate. Instead, he stared at his left hand, the string extending past his vision toward Taehyung as usual. “Thanks, Jimin,” he answered, not wanting to say anything else.

“Anyway, we’re all here now,” Jimin said. “So let’s go!”

“Go?” Yoongi asked. “Go where?”

“It’s the weekend, Tae and I don’t have any schedules tomorrow, and you have been slaving away at that computer all week,” Jimin said, as if that answered the question.

Taehyung chuckled when Yoongi just stared blankly at the singer for a long moment. “He means we’re going out. To a bar or club, or whatever he feels like doing.”

“Why am I included in this?” Yoongi grumbled.

“Because I said so,” Jimin answered. “You need to get out more.”

“I’m good with my music and dark rooms, thanks,” Yoongi insisted.

“I don’t know why you bother fighting this every time,” Taehyung said with a smile on his face. “You know he’s always going to win. Just gotta learn to go along with it.”

“Yes, precisely,” Jimin said, grabbing Yoongi’s arm to pull him out of his chair. “Now come on. Let’s go!”

Jimin was feeling up for a club today, apparently. Yoongi was most definitely not dressed appropriately for one, not that he had anything in his closet that would be, but Jimin and Taehyung were by far well-dressed and good-looking enough to get all three of them in.

It still surprised Yoongi that whenever they’d go out, no one really paid much attention to Jimin and Taehyung. They were both well-known and steadily getting more popular every day, yet they were left alone and unbothered when they were so out in the open. Yoongi couldn’t figure out how they did it, but he assumed that it might have had something to do with the fact that every place Jimin picked out looked higher-end than the bars Namjoon would drag him out to.

The three had barely ordered their first drinks before the first woman approached them. Yoongi paid no attention, subtly turning away from her to stay out of it. Every time this happened, they always had their eyes set on either Jimin or Taehyung—and they weren’t exactly Yoongi’s type anyway. And if it were Taehyung she had her eyes set on, it was better for him to not watch.

To his complete surprise, he felt a tap on his shoulder just a moment later. “Excuse me,” a light voice said.

Yoongi carefully turned back to face the woman, trying his best to keep his face as emotionless as usual despite how shocked he was feeling. “Yes? Do you- can I help you?”

From behind her, he could see Jimin and Taehyung both watching the interaction with rapt attention, amusement on their faces.

“I was about to dance, but I don’t want to go alone,” she pouted. “Would you come with me?” Objectively, this woman was rather beautiful. She was clearly skilled with her makeup, accentuating the soft angles of her face really well. The bold purple dress she wore was club appropriate, showing off a fair amount of skin, but also had a more classy look to it to make her stand out among the other girls in the crowd and it hugged the shape of her body really well.

“Sorry,” Yoongi replied, “I don’t really dance. My friends dragged me here.” He nodded in the direction of the two, certainly much more handsome men behind her in hopes she’d maybe pay them some attention instead.

She looked disappointed, but didn’t push, seeming to sense a rejection when she heard one. “Alright. Well, if you change your mind, feel free to find me.” Her gaze very obviously dragged up and down his body before walking away with a very intentional sway of her hips. If Yoongi were interested in women, he was sure his gaze would linger on the action, but instead he just turned to look at his still amused friends.

“You’re not going to get anyone interested in you that way,” Jimin teased.

“I don’t want anyone interested in me,” he rebutted quickly, being extra mindful to not glance at Taehyung. “I’m not even dressed well, either. Don’t know why she decided to hit on me.”

“Have you ever looked in a mirror?” Jimin asked. “You don’t need the right clothes when your face is that gorgeous.”

“She was pretty hot, though,” Taehyung said, not-so-discretely looking in the direction she had left in. “Wouldn’t have hurt to indulge her a bit.”

Yoongi shrugged. “Not my type.”

There was a time Yoongi would have been cautious about saying anything that could have even subtly hinted at who exactly his ‘type’ was. But after a while he realized that if someone were to judge or dislike him for it, then they didn’t deserve his trust anyway. He didn’t know what Jimin’s stance was and assumed that Taehyung probably at least didn’t have an issue with it since he never appeared repulsed by the fact they were soulmates, despite also not seeming to care much about it. He figured if they were going to figure out what he meant by that, this couldn’t have been the worst time for them to.

Jimin certainly seemed to be in thought after that, carefully scanning the crowd until he apparently found someone of interest. “What about him, then?” he asked completely nonchalantly, bringing Yoongi’s attention to a very handsome man.

From this distance with the dark lights, he couldn’t trust that he was seeing everything fully accurately. However what Yoongi did see was someone whose looks almost seemed to rival Jimin and Taehyung’s. A sharp jaw line, swept back brown hair and soft eyes, and he most certainly seemed to know what he was doing on the dance floor.

After taking the moment to appraise him, Yoongi gave a slight nod. “He’s definitely really attractive, at least from here.” He took a sip from his beer as he waited for one of them to say something more. When they remained quiet for a moment, he decided to ask, “It doesn’t bother you?”

Jimin smiled, shaking his head. “Of course not. I’d be lying if I said that he wasn’t my type as well. My choreographer is a guy, too. What do you think, Tae? He’s a cutie, wouldn’t you say?”

Taehyung’s gaze narrowed as he assessed the stranger. “Yeah, he’s definitely cute. Looks pretty young, though. You know I like it when they’re older, especially men.”

Jimin’s head threw back with laughter. “That’s true.”

Yoongi tried not to be too obvious about how relieved he was to find that out, hiding his smile behind the cup when he took another sip.

Ten minutes later found Jimin on the dance floor, a few shots in already, dancing with the man he picked out earlier while Yoongi and Taehyung hung back at the bar. During the few times that Yoongi had gone out like this with them, it wasn’t a common thing for Jimin or Taehyung to indulge someone else for very long. He’d seen Jimin dance with women on an occasion or two, and Taehyung would have short chats with people who were interested in him. Although that was the first time he saw either of them approach someone themselves. He wondered briefly if this might be the first night they might not all leave together.

“Don’t want anyone to be interested in you, huh?” Taehyung asked after long moments of a comfortable lull in conversation, filled only with the sounds of the club.

“Nope,” Yoongi replied, pulling his eyes away from where Jimin was dancing incredibly close to the stranger. “In places like this, people are usually just looking for a hook-up. I’m not really a hook-up kind of guy.”

Taehyung nodded. “Same,” he said, swirling his glass sitting on the bar. “Although, I find it fun to indulge. Chat a bit, see what they’re like. But if they seem to only be interested in who’s house we’re going to after, that’s the end of that for me.”

“What about Jimin? It kind of looks like he’s interested in not going home alone tonight.”

Shaking his head, Taehyung’s mouth turned down into a stupidly cute pout. “Nah, he’s too much of a romantic. He’s probably going to go home with the guy’s number, though. Jimin has a weird habit of making friends with the people he flirts with. Why? Are you jealous?”

“No, not jealous,” Yoongi replied easily. There may have been a time where he wondered if he could have had a thing with Jimin, but he was far too gone for Taehyung to even remotely consider that now. “Just don’t want him to get hurt.”

“You and me both. But he’s smarter, now. I don’t think he’d let another Miyoung into his life.”

Yoongi assumed that was the name of the ex-soulmate they talked about earlier. There was another pause in the conversation, this time heavy from the thoughtful expression Taehyung wore.

“It happens too often, you know. Not even just with teenagers. People in any stage of their life blindly trust this thing.” He was clearly looking at where their string attached itself to his left ring finger. “They assume that the person on the other end is going to be loving and compassionate, and there’s no way they wouldn’t work out. It’s so stupid.”

That felt like a stab to Yoongi’s chest. “Maybe some people just don’t have anyone else who can love them.”

“I’m sorry, that sounded harsh,” Taehyung backtracked. “I didn’t mean that about you, it’s just a general observation. Everyone in this world has a string connected to them at some point. But not everyone in the world is a good person. People who are assholes, abusers, criminals, killers, they all have a soulmate. But so many people assume that the person they’re attached to is just going to be amazing when it’s actually not often the case. Did you know there are some really interesting statistics around divorce rates?”

“Oh?” Yoongi asked, genuinely interested. He had never thought about that before, but Taehyung was really making a lot of sense so far and he was curious of what he had to say.

“Among divorcees if you divide the couples into who were soulmates when they met and who weren’t, there’s a much higher percentage of soulmate couples. It was somewhere around 70% soulmates last time I looked. It makes sense in one way because that’s also the majority of people who end up getting married. But when you hear their stories, almost all of them are the same. It’s some version of how they put faith into the string and rushed their relationship without properly developing a connection, and then they found out too late that they weren’t actually compatible. Or worse, that one of them was abusive in some way, overly possessive, or anything else from a list of red flags you’d usually find out during a relationship where you would have gotten to know them properly without a silly string telling you they were ‘the one.’ Non-soulmate couples who have talked about their stories tend to boil it down to other things, like growing apart over time, their partner cheating or becoming a ‘different person’ than they used to be. Rarely anything about rushing into something blindly.”

“That actually makes a lot of sense,” Yoongi said after waiting a moment to make sure Taehyung was done explaining. “I realized earlier that what happened with Jimin might have had something to do with our first meeting.”

Taehyung cringed. “Yeah, I’m still sorry about that. But yes, he’s one reason. He’s not the only person I care about who’s been burned by their soulmate though.” He stared into his drink, a distant look in his eyes.

Out of the corner of his eye, Yoongi caught sight of Jimin walking back to them with the mystery guy he had been dancing with being dragged behind him.

“Guys, say hi to Jungkook!” Jimin excitedly said as he approached.

It was almost scary how abruptly Taehyung’s expression changed as he turned to his best friend in amusement. “I was just telling Yoongi that you have a habit of making friends by flirting with them. Nice to meet you, Jungkook. I’m Taehyung.”

“I mean that turned out amazing for us, didn’t it?” Jimin said through a laugh.

Jungkook turned out to be a really sweet guy, and the four of them spent the rest of their night just chatting at the bar. Well, mostly Jimin and Taehyung were the ones chatting. Jungkook seemed to be more reserved like Yoongi, so the two mostly just responded when asked a question or being dragged into the current topic.

“You know,” Jimin slurred when he had already gotten well past the point of being drunk, a wobbly finger pointing at Yoongi, “that soulmate of yours must be really dumb.”

Yoongi quickly glanced at Taehyung to see him looking uncomfortable. Tensing up, Yoongi cleared his throat. “I wouldn’t say that.”

“Well, I would,” Jimin insisted. “Whoever he is, he should be thankful that he gets to be your soulmate. You are amazing.”

“Jimin,” Yoongi sighed. “Maybe he has his reasons.”

“But it’s not fair.” The pout was obvious in his voice despite Yoongi not being able to see it due to the man now draping himself over Yoongi’s back. “You said you weren’t happy with how things were going between you two. I don’t like that he’s making you upset.”

Yoongi closed his eyes as he took a steadying breath, not wanting to see Taehyung’s reaction. He already knew the model wasn’t interested and didn’t want to feel that sting of rejection right now. “We should get you home,” Yoongi said to change the subject. “You’re really drunk.”

“I’ll pull the car around,” Taehyung said, seeming really eager to walk away.

Jimin continued to whine, sniffles interrupting here and there while he kept saying how it wasn’t fair and he wanted Yoongi to be happy. While Yoongi’s heart clenched with appreciation for his friend’s concern, he didn’t want to feed into the conversation again.

Hurried knocks on Yoongi’s studio door cut through the track that Yoongi was currently editing. Finding a spot he felt comfortable to stop at, he answered the door to a very smiling and excited Jimin throwing his arms around him.

“Oh my gosh, I can’t believe it, Yoongi!” the now pink-haired singer yelled a little too loud for being right next to Yoongi’s ear.

“Can’t believe what, Jimin?” Yoongi asked as he gently pushed the man back a bit.

Jimin raised his left hand in between them as if that would answer Yoongi’s question. “I have a new soulmate!”

Well, that was unexpected. Confused and surprised, Yoongi tilted his head as he tried to figure that one out. “What do you mean you have a new soulmate? That’s possible?”

“Yeah! It was something I looked into years ago when I was upset about losing mine,” Jimin elaborated. “It’s actually more common than you’d expect. Soulmates drifting apart or separating, whatever causes the string to disappear. But it’s possible to find a new one later. I always hoped it would happen to me but I had no idea how it would. Like, would it happen when I met them, or if I started feeling something for someone?”

“So how did your string appear?” Yoongi asked through his amazement of the new information.

A blush settled on Jimin’s cheeks, looking suddenly shy as he said, “We kissed.”

Jimin was certainly full of surprises today. “Oh, well that’s… good, I guess. Who is it?”

“Hoseok,” Jimin said with a smile. “My choreographer that I’ve been gushing to you about lately. We’ve been getting closer and, I don’t know. It just- it felt right. And we kissed, then the string appeared and connected us. He’s so great, Yoongi. He’s so funny and nice and, I just- I feel so happy.”

“That’s really great, Jimin,” Yoongi genuinely said, a smile sitting on his face. “I’m really happy for you.”

Sighing, Jimin relaxed into the couch in Yoongi’s studio just as another knock, much more calm this time, sounded on the door. Yoongi opened it once more, letting in a confused Taehyung.

Nothing had changed between Yoongi and Taehyung after that night at the club even after another few weeks had passed. They still talked and hung out, usually with Jimin and oftentimes Jungkook as well now. They both seemed to silently agree to act like Jimin’s drunken outburst had never happened, while Yoongi’s heart continued to break every time he saw the string fade more and more. It was almost gone now, hardly visible. It probably wouldn’t make it through the week.

“Is everything alright with Jimin?” Taehyung asked as he stepped in. “He just texted me to come meet him here and that it was a red alert?” He turned to the singer in question, starting to examine him over as if looking for injuries.

Which queued Jimin filling him in on his new soulmate. Taehyung’s eyes widened in shock, but seemed just as happy and excited as Jimin was. Yoongi couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy in his chest, staring wistfully at his own string.

“It’s been a few weeks since we’ve talked about the soulmate thing,” Jimin said to Yoongi after they both calmed down. “I want to ask, but I don’t kn-”

“Same as it was last we talked,” Yoongi interrupted. “Nothing new to report.”

Jimin sighed. “I know I was drunk when I said it, but I’m serious that whoever this guy is dumb. It is a guy, right? I just assumed since you seemed interested and made it pretty clear you’re not into girls.”

Turning to his computer so he didn’t accidentally look at Taehyung, Yoongi steeled himself for not being able to dismiss the conversation this time. “Yeah, it’s a guy. And also, you should stop saying that. He has his reasons. And just because we’re soulmates doesn’t mean he needs to like me.”

“But he should!” Jimin insisted. “You’re really a catch, Yoongi. He’s really dumb for not wanting something with you. And he’s making you feel sad, I don’t like that.”

“Jimin, please drop it,” Yoongi said as gently as he could, pleading tone to his voice.

It was quiet for a moment before an, “It’s me,” sounded into the room.

Yoongi’s head snapped around to stare at Taehyung, surprised at the words he just muttered, while Jimin’s face morphed into confusion.

“What?” Jimin almost whispered. “What did you say?”

“Yoongi’s soulmate,” Taehyung elaborated, pausing to take a deep breath. “It’s me.”

Jimin’s eyes widened, looking back and forth between the two. “Seriously? You’ve been talking about Tae this whole time? Really?”

Looking at the nearly faded string that only one person in the room couldn’t see, Yoongi nodded. “Yeah.”

“Why didn’t you guys tell me?” Jimin asked, almost sounding offended. “I just- oh my god, I just said- Yoongi I’m so, so sorry. I just-”

“It’s fine,” Yoongi said. “I think he knew, anyway.”

After a moment of loaded silence, Jimin broke it again. “Alright, I take back what I said, then. Kim Taehyung, you-” Jimin hit him over the head with one of the throw pillows from the couch “-are undeniably, one hundred percent an absolute moron! You have a whole ass Min Yoongi that your soul is literally tied to and you’re not taking that opportunity? What the fuck!”

By this point, Yoongi’s neck should be sore from the amount of whiplash he’d experienced today.

Taehyung looked a little bit like a cornered animal, unsure of what to do. “Jimin, you know about how I feel about soulmates.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Jimin said, still seeming exasperated at his best friend. “You don’t trust it, fine. I get it, I really do. But seriously? You guys have been getting along so well, and you’re telling me you haven’t felt like you wanted to date him at all? I know you, Kim Taehyung. I can tell when-”

“It never ends well,” Taehyung interrupted, remaining surprisingly calm.

“Just because both your dad and I got screwed over by our soulmates doesn’t mean everyone does, Taehyung,” Jimin said. “I get why you’re hesitant. And I think it’s really great that you’re getting to know each other instead of jumping into something too early, but seriously?” By this point, Yoongi just felt like a bystander even though the conversation was about something he was very much in the middle of. “How strong is the string?”

When Taehyung’s eyes shifted, settling on the floor without answering, Jimin finally turned back to Yoongi. “How strong is the string?” he repeated.

“It’s um-” Yoongi cleared his throat “-it’s pretty faded. Getting kind of hard to see.”

Jimin sympathetically smiled at Yoongi before turning back to Taehyung and smacking him with the pillow one more time. “I repeat. You are a moron. You guys are talking this out. Right now.”

“Jimin-” Taehyung started.

“Nope,” Jimin stopped him. “I am leaving the room and standing guard outside. And you are going to sit in here and talk your shit out.”

Standing up, Jimin stopped to give Yoongi a strong hug and then threw one last glare at his best friend before closing the door behind him.

While Yoongi tried to process the roller coaster Jimin just put him through, Taehyung leaned back into the couch, running a hand over his face as he sighed. “I don’t know what he expects us to talk about.”

The door opened once more, Jimin having known the password and just usually knocked to be polite, to say, “In case you’re having trouble figuring out where to start, your baggage is a great place to, Taehyung.” Then he firmly closed the door once again.

An awkward silence sat between the two for a moment while Yoongi did his best to look anywhere besides Taehyung or their string.

“You don’t have to,” Yoongi was the first to speak. “If you wanted to give us a shot the string wouldn’t be fading, so I already know your answer.”

“The most valuable lesson I learned from my parents,” Taehyung said, “was to never trust the soulmate string. They did, and my dad ended up so much worse because of it. He always tells me the only good thing he ever got from her was me.”

Yoongi’s mouth was firmly shut as Taehyung started pouring out what was probably his most personal story.

“They were soulmates,” he continued. “They trusted it, didn’t take their time and just rushed into a relationship like so many other people do. But my mom was a bitch, told me all the time I was a mistake and she didn’t even want me. She was so abusive in every way. Verbally, mentally, physically she abused us. Mostly my dad because he did what he could to keep her hands off of me. It wasn’t until I was twelve years old that my dad finally was able to get us away from her. The courts even tried forcing him to give me back to her, too. That’s a really weird thing about the court system, they tend to favor the mothers in these situations. But luckily my dad had taken pictures, and I guess I was barely old enough that they took my testimony against her somewhat seriously so in the end I got to stay safe, with Dad.”

Taehyung stood, walking closer to where Yoongi sat at his desk and sitting on the floor in front of him. “So needless to say, I kind of have a really bad opinion on soulmates. Between him and then Jimin, I just started to feel like they were pointless, that it was always going to be a bad idea to trust the string. I promised myself I’d never let the people who care about me see me go through what they had.”

“I understand,” Yoongi said. “I don’t think you should feel obligated to care about me just because we have this string. And you certainly don’t have to feel bad for me about it.”

“You, um,” Taehyung seemed nervous. “Jimin made it sound like that you are, uh, interested in dating me.”

Looking at the floor, Yoongi nodded. No point in trying to lie about that.

“Why?” Taehyung asked.

Yoongi turned back to him, confusion knitting his brows together. “What do you mean why?”

“Is it because of this?” Taehyung lifted his left hand, the string moving and bending with it as if it were an actual, tangible thing.

“No,” Yoongi didn’t hesitate to respond. “I can’t deny that I had been looking forward to meeting my soulmate. I- well, things have just always gone wrong for me, I guess. And I hoped that could change when I met my soulmate. But I usually forget about it when we hang out. I just enjoy spending time with you, as Kim Taehyung. Anything I’ve ever felt for you has nothing to do with us being soulmates.”

It was silent for a few moments while Taehyung seemed to be in thought. Yoongi turned to his computer, not really doing anything in particular, but just wanting to keep himself occupied to ease the anxious knot in his stomach.

Before either of them said anything else, Yoongi’s phone started vibrating on the desk. The manager of his apartment complex was calling, which was never a good sign. Sliding the green button on the screen, Yoongi tried to keep his voice from shaking as he answered.

“Hey Yoongi,” she greeted. “Sorry to bother you while you’re probably at work, but he’s here again. He’s just sitting outside of your door and won’t leave.”

Yoongi sighed, feeling bad for the poor woman. She was a really nice lady and didn’t deserve to deal with his father’s bullshit. After probably the fifth time the police were called to forcibly remove him, he had figured out that if he didn’t act violently and appeared innocent, they wouldn’t interfere. So now, the only way to get him to leave was for Yoongi to attempt to deal with him, and then call the cops if he did start to get violent. To be honest, he was lucky the woman refused to evict him over it.

“Alright, I’ll be there as soon as I can,” he replied. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” she said. “I’m sorry for needing to ask.”

“Not your fault, either. I’ll handle it, don’t worry.”

He hung up the phone as he got up to gather his things and leave.

“Yoongi?” Taehyung asked, almost nervously, from the floor.

“Sorry, Taehyung,” Yoongi said. “Something came up and I have to go home.” As he walked toward the door, a thought popped into his head. “I promise this doesn’t have anything to do with what we were just talking about. I just genuinely have something to take care of and it can’t wait.” He wasn’t looking forward to this, both him and the apartment manager knowing this was going to be one visit that would end with the cops dragging him out.

“Is everything okay?” Taehyung asked as he got up from the floor.

“Yeah, it’s fine. Nothing I can’t handle.”

When he opened the door, Yoongi was unsurprised to not see Jimin standing there like he said he would be. Knowing him, he probably stuck around just long enough to make sure they started talking before leaving, and probably to go hang out with his new soulmate.

He could feel Taehyung’s presence closely behind him as he walked down the hallway, finding it oddly comforting since he could tell the man seemed genuinely concerned. It was then that Yoongi remembered something important.

“Fuck,” Yoongi said as he stopped in his tracks. “I walked to work today. It’s not that far, but I don’t want to be too long and risk him causing a scene.” Yoongi turned around, and probably would have laughed at Taehyung’s surprised expression if it weren’t for the situation he was preparing to handle. “I’m really sorry to ask, but did you drive here? Do you have something you need to do soon?”

Taehyung gently shook his head no, but didn’t say anything. When Yoongi continued staring at him, he seemed to realize he needed to elaborate. “Oh. Yes, I drove here and no I don’t have anything else I need to do today.”

“Okay, again I’m sorry to ask but could I borrow your car?” Yoongi hesitantly asked. “Or drive me there and then you can leave. I just want to get home as quickly as possible.”

“I’ll drive you,” Taehyung said, and the two continued walking toward the elevator at a quickened pace. “Seriously, is everything okay?”

“It’s nothing to worry about,” Yoongi insisted. “I’ve had to handle this a ton of times before, and this time isn’t going to be any different.”

They spoke very little on the way there except for Yoongi to give Taehyung directions. His heart flipped in his chest to think about the fact that this was the first time Taehyung was seeing where he lived, but it wasn’t exactly something to be excited about at the moment. He’d see it and then drive away. And the next time Yoongi would see him, the string connecting them may very possibly be gone. He still wasn’t sure how he felt about that other than the fact that it scared him.

“Thank you so much,” Yoongi said as Taehyung pulled into the parking garage with ease. “You don’t need to wait for me. I can get back to work on my own.”

“I’ll wait,” Taehyung rushed out before Yoongi closed the door. “I want to talk to you when you get back, so I’ll wait. Should I come with you?”

“No, please don’t come with me. I’d rather not get you mixed up in this. I’ll be back soon. Hopefully,” Yoongi said before closing the car door and walking to the elevator which he could take directly to his floor with his ID. He tapped his foot anxiously as he waited for it to climb up and up, until the doors finally opened on the right floor and he did his best not to rush out. As much as he didn’t want his father inside his home, it was best to not get him agitated before then. Especially if he had been drinking.

Pretending to not have noticed the man leaning against the wall next his door, Yoongi made sure his father couldn’t see the numbers as he typed in his code and opened it. Without looking behind him, Yoongi left it open for him to follow before acknowledging his existence.

“Yoongi,” the man said, elongating the vowels. Definitely drunk.

“What do you want this time?” Yoongi asked, already annoyed. “More money?”

“What? A father isn’t allowed to come see his son?” The look on his face would have appeared as offence to anyone else, but Yoongi knew better.

“You never want to just see me for no reason,” Yoongi said. “What do you want?”

“Always straight to the point,” his father said, almost sounding like praise. But again, Yoongi knew better. “I need some help.”

Sighing, Yoongi turned into his kitchen. He hadn’t eaten lunch yet and was getting pretty hungry so he figured he might as well do something useful while he listened to his father’s excuses this time. “So you want money again.”

“I’m going to get kicked out of my house.”

“Good, maybe that’ll teach you to be more responsible with your money.”

“I’m your father, don’t talk to me like that.”

“Yes, you’re my father.” Yoongi dug around his fridge for some leftovers from last night. “My father who won’t get a job, spends all his money on alcohol and gambling, and then comes crawling back to his son for cash when he can’t afford to pay his bills or buy his groceries because he wasted all the money that his son had lent him the last time. The same money that is always given with the condition that it’s to be used only for your rent and groceries, but it never is.”

His father scoffed. “What good is it to have a son who makes a ton of money when he won’t take care of you?”

“Maybe you should have thought about that before you treated your son like he was a worthless piece of shit. You reap what you sow, I guess.”

“You fucking-”

Yoongi placed his food on the counter and turned around in time to block the punch that was far too sluggish to be effective anyway. “You might want to add some new tricks to your bag, old man. You’re too predictable.” His father lowered his raised fist as Yoongi let his grip loose. “And I’m not giving you any more money. I told you last time that I wouldn’t be doing this again, and I intend on keeping that promise.”

“You don’t care that your father’s about to be homeless? When you’re living in this nice apartment in a nice neighborhood?”

“No, I don’t. You only care about me when I’m useful to you. Before, you used to think of me as just some piece of shit who wasn’t worth your time. Now, you only care that I have money and could support your alcoholic ass if I chose to. But guess what? I’m done. I told you a month ago that was going to be the last time and I meant it. Now fuck off.”

“I didn’t raise you to be a disrespectful piece of shit.”

Yoongi prepared for the next attempt to hit him, but to his surprise it didn’t come when they were both distracted by a very familiar voice calling from the entryway.

“Yoongi?” Taehyung’s deep timbre sounded into the house. “Yoongi, are you here? Is everything okay?”

“I told you to stay in the car,” Yoongi sighed when Taehyung made his way into the kitchen. “You shouldn’t be here. Please go back to the car. I’ll be down in a bit.”

“Who the fuck is this?” Yoongi’s father asked.

“Who the fuck are you?” Taehyung deflected back.

“I’m his father,” he replied before turning back to Yoongi. “Don’t tell me your gay little ass got yourself a boyfriend.”

“Excuse you?” Taehyung answered while Yoongi bit his tongue. “First of all, that’s apparently none of your business if that’s how you’re going to talk to him. Second, Yoongi, are you okay?” his voice became much softer as he asked, making Yoongi’s heart feel warm.

“I’m fine,” Yoongi replied. “No need to get yourself involved. I’ve got this under control. Now, if you would leave, Dad, we have nothing else to talk about here.”

“I need fucking money, Yoongi!”

“Yeah, I’ve gathered that.” Yoongi turned back to the counter to open his container of leftover food and pop it in the microwave as he spoke. “But you’re not getting it from me. How about you stop drinking and get yourself a job. Maybe then you’d have some money.”

“Just because you’re rich doesn’t mean it’s easy to get fucking money. You think it’s easy?”

Yoongi was more than done with him at this point. “I know it’s not easy. I grew up with you as my parent, remember? After mom died, you could hardly even keep a roof over our heads and I had to work low-paying shit jobs as soon as I could to help you before I got out of there and slowly worked my way to where I am. So yeah, I know it’s not. But I’ve given you so many chances, way more than you deserve, frankly. And I’m done. I don’t know how many times I need to tell you for you to understand.”

When Yoongi’s father knew he had nothing to say back, he resorted to his fists. When the first one extended it was Taehyung, who had been silently standing back and watching their argument, who moved forward to restrain him.

“Keep your filthy hands off of me!” Yoongi’s father struggled as Taehyung kept his arms locked behind him.

“That’s what Yoongi should be saying to you,” Taehyung rebutted as he dragged the man toward the entrance to the apartment. Yoongi followed, watching as his soulmate shoved the still yelling man over the threshold and quickly shut the door behind him, locking him out.

“Taehyung, what-”

“The woman downstairs said she would call the cops,” Taehyung spoke over the pounding and yelling from the other side of the door.

“How did you even know where my apartment was?” Yoongi asked, still trying to process what just happened.

“The way you phrased things made me worried,” Taehyung said as he walked further into the house. “So I got out of the car not long after you and asked the lady at the front desk about you. She seemed relieved that you had someone to help you, and then told me she’d go ahead and call the cops then if you were already up here talking to him. Obviously, I got even more worried so when she told me your room number I hurried up.”

“But how’d you get in?”

“The door was left open.”

Of course his father hadn’t closed the door. Sighing, Yoongi retreated back to the kitchen to get his food from the microwave which had been annoyingly beeping at him periodically to remind him that it was done. His hands started shaking as he placed the container back on the counter, residual adrenaline from the argument keeping his body over fueled.

After taking a breath to steady himself, Yoongi grabbed some chopsticks and took his dinner to the table to eat, Taehyung closely following. While he settled in to eating, he could hear the police filing into the hallway to collect his father and drag him away.

“Yoongi, if he ever comes back here again, please don’t face him alone,” Taehyung said as he pulled back a chair to sit in. “Call me next time.”

“I’ve handled him all my life, I can take care of it on my own.” Yoongi poked his food around as he spoke, not yet having taken a real bite of it.

“But you don’t have to.”

Looking up at him, Yoongi’s gaze met Taehyung’s. A silent moment sat between them, charged but not uncomfortable. “I guess it’s time for me to tell you my baggage, huh?” Yoongi asked.

“Only if you want, but you don’t have to,” Taehyung replied easily. “You could always tell me later.”

Yoongi chanced a glance toward the string, heart dropping when it was still just as faded as before, maybe even a little more. “It’ll be gone soon,” he whispered before shoveling the first bite of rice into his mouth. After he finished chewing, he sighed. “I feel like I need to talk about it now. I just- he gets me so angry. There’s only been one person I’ve ever been able to vent to about anything, and I just really want to get it all out right now.”

Nodding, Taehyung said, “Okay. If you want to, then go ahead. I’m here, I’m listening.” The sincere look in his eyes could have fooled Yoongi.

“My mom was really nice, at least from what I remember. I think she was the only thing that kept my dad held together. But she got sick when I was still young, so then it was just me and my dad. He had a hard time keeping a steady job, would start going to drink and just didn’t pay much attention to me. He didn’t hit me or anything back then, but he just didn’t seem to care much. And then, when I realized that I was gay, he became disgusted with me. Told me how wrong it was, how much of an abomination I was, use slurs with me. That was around when he started becoming violent, too. Was always a bad hit, though.”

“Asshole,” Taehyung muttered under his breath.

That got a chuckle out of Yoongi. “Yeah, basically. I tried to find other people who would accept me. I didn’t think anything was wrong with me, despite what he said. I had heard about same-sex couples who were soulmates not being very uncommon, how it is a really old idea from back when soulmates were completely ignored that it was somehow unnatural and wrong. And even before I started making a bunch of money, he’d always expect me to support him. I had to try to make enough to support myself, and him at the same time because he never got his act together. It’s always been like that.”

Taehyung shifted in his seat, seeming to have something to say but was too nervous to. When Yoongi looked at him and nodded once in encouragement, he gently spoke. “You mentioned earlier that you were unhappy and hoped meeting your soulmate would change that. Is it because of him?”

“He was the first reason. It became a pattern in my life for people to just not care or hurt me. My best friend, Namjoon, he’s always trying to tell me that I deserve to be loved. But everyone has always made me feel like I can’t have it. My father was just the first one to show me that.”

“You do, though,” Taehyung said. “Deserve love, I mean. You really do.”

Trying his hardest to ignore the painful clench of his heart in the irony of Taehyung being the one to say that, Yoongi pushed his food away and set down his chopsticks, no longer feeling hungry.

“Do you want to talk about the others?” Taehyung carefully asked.

Nodding, Yoongi took in a breath to brace himself to continue. “So the first person I told about my sexuality was my closest friend at the time. He didn’t take it well, either. He was always really nice, but then suddenly he became cold and didn’t want anything to do with me anymore. It only got worse after that. When I went to college, I had a crush on this one guy who knew about it but all I was good to him for was to be used to get off, and eventually he got tired of me. Anyone who ever acted interested in me in some way, it was never for me. No one ever cared about me, just that I was a guy they knew was gay and could be used for their closeted asses.”

“That’s why you were hoping your soulmate would be different.” It wasn’t a question that Taehyung muttered, barely above a whisper. “But when we met I just walked away without even talking to you, just like another one of those jerks. Didn’t even give you a chance.”

Yoongi said nothing, just stared at their string that was still hardly there at all. He was so shocked when Taehyung’s hand covered his that he almost pulled his own away.

“Jimin’s right,” were the next words out of Taehyung’s mouth. “I’m a moron. My whole issue about soulmates is that people don’t take the time to properly get to know someone and run so far ahead without even thinking. But we’re friends, we’ve been getting to know each other for quite a while now. And instead of thinking that means it’s okay to give us a chance, I’ve been stuck in this mindset of thinking that I can’t follow the string. That it’s somehow inevitably going to lead me to pain. Even though I-”

Heart pounding, Yoongi’s eyes searched Taehyung’s face in hopes of seeing what he was about to say.

“Just the thought that this string connecting us is going to disappear forever because I’m being such an indecisive, baggage-carrying ass, it absolutely terrifies me. I don’t want it to disappear. I used to hate it, I thought it wouldn’t do anything but cause me problems. But, Yoongi-” Taehyung’s eyes finally connected with Yoongi’s “-I feel like it was impossible for me to not fall for you. I’ve just been ignoring it because I’ve been scared and- fuck, I don’t know. It doesn’t make any sense to me now that I’ve actually thought about it. I just feel like an idiot for fighting it all this time now.”

Surely Taehyung had to be able to hear how fast Yoongi’s heart was pounding in his chest. Was he being honest? It would still make sense as to why the string kept fading, but if he was being honest about it now, the string should be becoming brighter, shouldn’t it? Looking at it again, he could see that it wasn’t. Was the damage that’s been done to it permanent?

“I understand if it’s too late, though,” Taehyung said, nearly breaking Yoongi’s heart in half. “Even if we’ve been good friends up until now, it doesn’t change the fact that I’ve let you get strung along while I didn’t know what to do with myself. Oh wow, that was a pun right there. That wasn’t even intentional. But whatever, I just mean-”

“Taehyung,” Yoongi interrupted. Blinking back at him, Taehyung stayed quiet while he waited for Yoongi to continue. “If you really mean all of that, then you have a lot of making up to do.”

“Do you mean…”

“The most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen, the same man that I have been falling for so hard and so fast ever since the first time we spoke to each other, just told me that he’s been falling for me too. How am I supposed to reject that?”

Taehyung’s chest rose up and down with how hard he was breathing. “Maybe- maybe we should think about this. It’s been an emotional day and we should take a moment. I don’t want you to do anything you’d regret because you’re not able to think properly-”

“I’m a grown man who can make his own decisions and have been practically praying for this day to happen. Kim Taehyung, if you meant everything you just told me, then you better come over here and kiss me within the next five seconds or so help me, I-”

It was Taehyung’s turn to cut Yoongi off, but by joining their lips together. One of his beautiful, large hands rested on the back of Yoongi’s head, making him tilt it just a little to make the kiss easier from the awkward angle. Yoongi felt like his heart was soaring as he eagerly returned the kiss, pressing back into Taehyung’s soft lips. He could swear he felt something tingling on his left ring finger, but was absolutely not breaking the kiss to take a look.

Gripping onto Taehyung’s shirt, Yoongi stood up carefully enough to make sure their lips stayed connected. Wanting to deepen the kiss, he parted his lips just enough to give Taehyung the invitation to do so. He was rewarded with a delightful groan as Taehyung’s tongue tangled with his own. It was only their first kiss, no time yet to learn how to navigate each other and what each of them liked, but it was by far the best thing Yoongi had ever experienced in his life. It was almost as if he could feel Taehyung pouring his emotions into it.

When they finally pulled away from each other minutes or maybe hours later, out of breath, Yoongi thought that maybe Taehyung really did. They rested their foreheads together for a moment, smiling at each other like they’d never been happier in their lives—and maybe Yoongi hadn’t. Yoongi was the first to chance a look at where the string wrapped around his finger only for his smile to grow wider. He looked back up into Taehyung’s eyes once more as he lifted his left hand for the other to see for himself.

“It’s back,” Taehyung breathlessly marveled. “Is it-” he pulled away just enough to look at his own “-is it just me because I got so used to seeing it fading, or is it brighter than before now?”

“I don’t think it’s ever been this vivid,” Yoongi answered. “I always remembered it being just slightly transparent. But if I didn’t know any better, I’d think this was an actual, real string on my finger right now.”

Taehyung’s light laugh made Yoongi’s already palpitating heart jump even more. “Kiss me?” Taehyung asked.

Who was Yoongi to refuse that request?

“So does this mean I’m not going to have you coming to me to mope about your soulmate anymore?” Namjoon teased when Yoongi finally introduced the two. It was a stupidly large gathering at Jimin’s house, who had insisted that they had to celebrate not just one, but two soulmate pairs getting together. Jimin demanded that Yoongi invited Namjoon so he could meet him, and had invited Jungkook who also brought his older brother Seokjin since Jimin saw a picture of him and demanded that he needed to meet such a beauty in person. And of course Hoseok was there as well.

So there were seven of them. Maybe not large for Jimin’s standards, but this was absolutely a huge gathering for Yoongi who preferred to just chill at home by himself—well not so much by himself since he now had an actual boyfriend who he just couldn’t help wanting to see all the time.

“You act like I did that all the time,” Yoongi said, rolling his eyes. “I only did that once.”

“Twice,” Namjoon corrected. “Once when you first met, and then when you met the second time. You came to my house so late at night, already halfway to drunk, and kept me up way too late telling me about how you could just tell that it was already doomed to fail.”

Yoongi didn’t need to look to know Taehyung was pouting. He could practically feel its aura. “We’re not doomed though, are we, Yoongi?”

“You would have failed if it weren’t for me,” Jimin inserted himself into the conversation. “You literally owe this whole entire thing to me. If I hadn’t met Yoongi through work, and I wasn’t best friends with you’re dumb but beautiful ass, you probably wouldn’t have even talked at all. And I was the one who forced you to air out your dirty laundry so that you could actually talk things out like adults.”

“Yes, thank you, Almighty Jimin who shall never let us live that down,” Taehyung said as he exaggeratedly bowed to him. “I promise to name one of my future children after you to honor the good deeds you have done for me and my boyfriend.”

“I shall accept that payment,” Jimin said, definitely enjoying himself more than he should.

“If we have or adopt kids in the future, we are not naming them after Jimin,” Yoongi said, bursting Jimin’s bubble of delight. “And also, please don’t compliment my boyfriend’s ass, it’s off limits.”

“So’s mine, so it’s even.” Jimin laughed, leaning into his own boyfriend since he could never keep himself standing when he laughed too hard for some reason.

“Dude, why did you never introduce me to your new friends before this?” Namjoon cut in suddenly. “I like them already.”

“Of course you do,” Yoongi rolled his eyes. “You can have them if you want. I don’t think I want to keep him anymore.”

“Hey! We literally just established how you two owe me a child for putting you together,” Jimin said.

Sighing, Yoongi rolled his eyes. “That is not what we-”

“I promise to not forget my debt to you, my Savior Jimin.” Taehyung yet again played up worshiping the man while Yoongi merely questioned every choice he made to put himself here.

But when he saw the string on his finger, bright as ever, he couldn’t help but smile. Thanks to not just Taehyung but also the other people who had recently entered his life, he smiled much more than before. He had people who accepted him for who he was and cared about him.

Sometimes, the string was wrong. Not even that could be perfect. But sometimes, it got this so, so right. And Yoongi was just happy that in the end, his soulmate did end up being the person who could love him the way he had longed for for so long.

My ask box is always open!

Also, if you’d like to donate to my Ko-fi, feel free! Absolutely no pressure though :) You can also check out my Etsy shop for BTS inspired charms as well!

[topsolarpanels]

Nevada’s solar workers and customers reel as new rules ‘shut down’ industry

Companies struggle after state imposes highest charges yet on customers, driving firms out of the state and workers out of jobs

The conversation at SolarCitys hollowed-out warehouse in Las Vegas felt like it came after a funeral, and in a sense it did, with workers cycling between sadness, disbelief and anger at the untimely death of the rooftop solar industry.

fixed rate states solar power

The cause, as seen by workers drifting in to clean out their belongings, was state-assisted suicide, after the Nevada regulator imposed costly newrules for residential solar customers.

The decision to replace economic incentives with new higher fees pulled the carpet out from under an industry that provided 8,700 jobs in the state last year, according to the Solar Foundation, and stranded some 17,000 homeowners who have already gone solar with a financial liability on their rooftops.

Three companies, including SolarCity, announced they were quitting the state, laying off about 1,000 workers.

Everyone in this warehouse was let go, 550 people across the valley, said Chandler Gray, who lost his job as an installations inspector for SolarCity.

The havoc turned solar panels into a hot topic for Bernie Sanders and Hillary Clinton ahead of the Nevada caucuses on 20 February.

Call it the solar wars. From Arizona to California to Florida and now Nevada, states are struggling to reconcile residential solar with its promise to give homeowners greater independence while fighting climate change with highly centralised business models of the electricity industry.

California and a number of other states eventually defeated efforts by energy companies and corporate lobby groups to claw back incentives for solar customers.

Three companies, including SolarCity, announced they would leave the state following the new rules. Photograph: Jacob Kepler for the Guardian

Now Nevada has raised the stakes, levying the highest charges to date and breaking with convention to impose those charges on existing customers as well as new ones.

The solar showdown pits Elon Musk, the electric car billionaire and cofounder of SolarCity, against Warren Buffett, owner of the states monopoly electricity provider NV Energy.

The new rules, confirmed on 12 February, raised the monthly fees to solar customers from $12.75 to $38.51 over 12 years while dramatically cutting back the rates that customers were paid earlierfor feeding surplus power back into the grid from about 11 cents a kilowatt hour to about two cents.

Homeowners who are suing NV Energy in a class action estimate the new rates add 40% to their monthly bills, while reducing the amount they get paid for the solar energy their panels produce by 18%.

SolarCitys warehouse was still plastered with posters advertising the infinite power of the sun but the companys power to change the residential roofline of Nevada cities was, for the moment, gone.

opposition solar power nevada

Orders stopped the moment the new rules came out, Gray said.

Until the axe fell, SolarCity was shipping up to 1,600 solar systems a week from this and one other warehouse in southern Nevada. It used to be like Raiders of the Lost Ark when you went into this warehouse, he said

It was massive, Gray went on. Then they dropped the bomb.

Gray, who saw SolarCity as an escape from dead-end retail jobs, was let go. So was his partner, who also worked for SolarCity. Our household income was zero for a couple of weeks there, Gray said.

His partner was rehired and Gray hopes he will get taken on too. But for the moment he is looking after their six-year-old son, and campaigning for a ballot initiative to overturn the rules. We are going to fight to bring solar back, and once we do, we will get our jobs back too, he said.

SolarCity is keeping its Las Vegas headquarters in an upscale shopping mall where the glass conference rooms are decorated with the names of island vacation destinations like Aruba and Maui.

But the office will operate mainly as a sales center. Roz Holdens last day arrives on 21 February, after which the top saleswoman plans to put her four-bedroom house on the market and move into a rental just to keep costs down and start hunting for work.

The company offered Holden a job in its call centre or to move her to another state, but neither was a good option for a single mother supporting two daughters who are firmly settled in Las Vegas.

nevada solar power holdout states

Even now, Holden still cant fully believe the good times for solar are over in Nevada. Its unfathomable, she said. We expected some changes this year, but we didnt expect they would shut us down completely. It was quite shocking.

SolarCity arrived in Nevada in 2014, shaking up the market for rooftop solar with a leasing plan that allowed homeowners with good credit ratings to put solar panels on their rooftops with no money down.

The company could barely keep up with demand until 22 December, when the new rules were announced. We literally stopped business within that hour, pulled installs off the roof, finished up the jobs we had within that hour and we were done, Holden said. It pretty much shut down the industry.

Some of their customers were caught in limbo, like Kelly and Charisma Schwarze, whose installation was completed but whose panels have still not been switched on by the electricity company.

The couple had been excited to go solar, once the leasing option put it in their budget. Now I feel like we are being punished for trying to do the right thing, Kelly Schwarze, an independent film-maker, said.

For Mike Stitely, the new rules destroyed the tiny thrill he got each day when he checked the iPad to see how much electricity was being produced from the 16 panels on his roof.

Stitleys wife is still working, at Walmart, but he is retired. He is very worried about higher bills, and selling the house when the stairs become too much. People are going to be scared off, he said.

nevada solar power fightback states

It blows my mind and really upsets me, Stitley said. Its pretty high anxiety. At this time of your life you like to know what is going on.

The public utilities commission (PUC) claims solar customers were not paying their fair share for maintaining the grid. When solar rooftop ratepayers reduce energy consumption with solar generation, they lower their bills at the full retail energy rate, which includes charges not only for fuel costs but also for fixed and demand costs; these fixed and demand costs do not go down simply because the rooftop solar ratepayers consume less energy, Peter Kostes, a spokesman, wrote in an email. Solar rooftop ratepayers are under-paying.

Patricia Farley, a Republican state senator who drafted a bill last year to revise the states solar policies, claimed solar was only for rich people, and that the new rules were fairer for all Nevadans.

We dont see people with lower income putting solar on their homes, Farley said. I think if you looked at who bought solar, you dont really see diversity. You have got people who can afford it, and some of the experts told me the people who cant afford it are paying the difference.

But the new rules struck clean energy advocates and campaign groups as retrograde. Instead of limiting rooftop solar, Nevada should be promoting residential arrays as a means of fighting climate change and diversifying the electricity grid, in case of natural disaster or attack, they argued.

Clinton issued a statement saying it was punitive to change the rules on existing homeowners. Bernie Sanders, who met with solar installers in Reno, said it was just wrong.

Rooftop solar is also likely to figure in next Novembers elections.

The SolarCity offices in Las Vegas. Photograph: Jacob Kepler for the Guardian

This is an existential battle for the future of solar being waged right now in front of regulatory bodies, said Adam Browning, director of the Vote Solar campaign group. It is really about who gets to decide how much solar is installed and who owns it.

Others see the solar wars as an uncomfortable blip on an inevitable energy transition.

encouraging solar power nevada

Solar was barely on the radar when Louise Helton went into the solar business in 2007, inspired by hearing Bill Clinton describe his vision of Nevada as a Saudi Arabia for solar energy.

She went on to found 1 Sun Solar, offering residential solar installations out of the same shopfront where she runs her electrical contracting and stone tile business.

After the recession hit, landing harder on Las Vegas than other towns, it took until 2011, when the prices of solar panels began coming down, for Helton to get her business up and running.

By Heltons own estimates, she stands to lose about $500,000 a year because of the PUC decision. But she is relatively philosophical about the eventual outcome of the solar wars.

Its sort of the same problem we had to go through when you first had cellphones. Ma Bell wasnt happy, Helton said. It was a disruptive technology that changed industry, that took it from being top-down and inverted that pyramid completely.

It was clear which side was going to win the end, Helton said. And then she picked up her cellphone and smiled.

Read more: www.theguardian.com

The post Nevada’s solar workers and customers reel as new rules ‘shut down’ industry appeared first on Top Rated Solar Panels.

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[stormdoors78476]

A Poodle Act, A Murder And The Wrong Man Behind Bars

A Vegas showman with a poodle act was stabbed to death dozens of times in his trailer. His lover, a good looking drifter, was locked up for the crime. But it turns out he didn’t do it and the story, being as Vegas as things go, has another twist. The prosecutors knew of the possibility of his innocence and tried him anyway. And still there’s even more ― but you’ll have to read the article to find out what happened next.

In the meantime, we spoke with Megan Rose, the reporter who uncovered all the details for her feature in Vanity Fair and ProPublica, about how she got the story. 

The article has an intriguing headline, “Kafka in Vegas.” Where did that come from?

“Kafka in Vegas” came from the brilliant minds at Vanity Fair, which was ProPublica’s partner on the story. We all loved the headline for how it captured the byzantine nightmare Fred Steese had been put through with his wrongful conviction and the nearly 21 years of legal hoops he had to jump through to prove his innocence. The absurdity of Fred’s tale, as well as the details of the murder, felt very Kafkaesque.

Normally you cover the military for ProPublica. This is a classic story of true crime. How did you get the assignment?

A former colleague from the Las Vegas Sun newspaper, where I worked almost a decade ago, had become an investigator for the Federal Public Defender’s Office and was assigned Fred’s case. I heard tidbits from her over the years about Fred’s plight and was fascinated with the story and the efforts to free him. My gracious editors at ProPublica let me divert from the military beat to investigate.

This story is very complicated. There are so many players and so many threads. Where did you begin your reporting? And then how did you proceed. There is so much to this story that my first draft was 26,000 words! Step one was to figure out how a man with such an extensive alibi ended up convicted in the first place, so that took me back to the 1995 trial. Fred’s civil lawyer kindly let me take over her conference room in downtown Las Vegas, and I spent a week going through more than a dozen legal boxes filled with paperwork: the 5-week trial transcript, Fred’s childhood history, all the motions filed over the years, etc. From there a picture emerged of two prosecutors who appeared to have not sought justice but a conviction. 

At the same time, I was talking to all the folks who had a hand in freeing Fred. In a sense that was the simplest aspect to report because, despite there being a lot of ground to cover, their work was all in the court record or meticulous notes.

Separate from lining up all the decades of details, I also had to make sense of the legal issues. I found myself in the NYU law library picking up texts about habeas corpus and speaking with many prominent legal scholars to get a foundation in the sometimes illogical world of post-conviction law.

  What about the story surprised you?

I was really surprised at the dogmatic refusal of the Clark County DA’s office to reexamine the case against Fred. In 1995, prosecutors had argued that Fred’s alibi was a fantasy and that his long-lost brother – whom he hadn’t seen since he was a child – had been impersonating him in an elaborate scheme. Nearly two decades later, Fred’s federal public defender proved that completely false.

His investigator found Robert, which the prosecution had been either unwilling or unable to do, and showed that Robert was in Texas during the time the prosecutors claimed he was impersonating Fred in Wyoming, Utah and Idaho. The DA’s office never offered another theory to explain Fred’s alibi. They didn’t seem troubled that exculpatory evidence had been found in the prosecution’s file, or that [William] Kephart [who prosecuted the case] had elicited false testimony from a jailhouse snitch on the stand, or by any of the other myriad problems with the case. The people who put Fred away weren’t even at the DA’s office anymore. The man in charge now, Steve Wolfson, had no connection to the original trial. Yet, he was unwilling to question if the state had the right man.

What was most challenging?

Sorting through decades of complex legal issues and putting it all into its proper context was challenging at times. I was grateful for the legal experts who let me bounce things off them, and Fred’s lawyer, Ryan Norwood, who patiently took me through all the details. There was so much that happened in the trial and afterwards that I couldn’t possibly get it all in the story, so I had to choose salient legal twists and turns that captured the overall essence. I didn’t want to over or under emphasize the wrong things, and since my expertise is in the military, I had to rely much more on outside advice than typical.

Megan is a military reporter for ProPublica. If you like going behind the scenes of stories, be sure to subscribe to “The Breakthrough,” ProPublica’s new podcast, which does just that.

Sign up for the HuffPost Must Reads newsletter. Each Sunday, we will bring you the best original reporting, long form writing and breaking news from The Huffington Post and around the web, plus behind-the-scenes looks at how it’s all made. Click here to sign up!

-- This feed and its contents are the property of The Huffington Post, and use is subject to our terms. It may be used for personal consumption, but may not be distributed on a website.

from DIYS http://ift.tt/2rW7P0c

[porchenclose10019]

A Poodle Act, A Murder And The Wrong Man Behind Bars

A Vegas showman with a poodle act was stabbed to death dozens of times in his trailer. His lover, a good looking drifter, was locked up for the crime. But it turns out he didn’t do it and the story, being as Vegas as things go, has another twist. The prosecutors knew of the possibility of his innocence and tried him anyway. And still there’s even more ― but you’ll have to read the article to find out what happened next.

In the meantime, we spoke with Megan Rose, the reporter who uncovered all the details for her feature in Vanity Fair and ProPublica, about how she got the story. 

The article has an intriguing headline, “Kafka in Vegas.” Where did that come from?

“Kafka in Vegas” came from the brilliant minds at Vanity Fair, which was ProPublica’s partner on the story. We all loved the headline for how it captured the byzantine nightmare Fred Steese had been put through with his wrongful conviction and the nearly 21 years of legal hoops he had to jump through to prove his innocence. The absurdity of Fred’s tale, as well as the details of the murder, felt very Kafkaesque.

Normally you cover the military for ProPublica. This is a classic story of true crime. How did you get the assignment?

A former colleague from the Las Vegas Sun newspaper, where I worked almost a decade ago, had become an investigator for the Federal Public Defender’s Office and was assigned Fred’s case. I heard tidbits from her over the years about Fred’s plight and was fascinated with the story and the efforts to free him. My gracious editors at ProPublica let me divert from the military beat to investigate.

This story is very complicated. There are so many players and so many threads. Where did you begin your reporting? And then how did you proceed. There is so much to this story that my first draft was 26,000 words! Step one was to figure out how a man with such an extensive alibi ended up convicted in the first place, so that took me back to the 1995 trial. Fred’s civil lawyer kindly let me take over her conference room in downtown Las Vegas, and I spent a week going through more than a dozen legal boxes filled with paperwork: the 5-week trial transcript, Fred’s childhood history, all the motions filed over the years, etc. From there a picture emerged of two prosecutors who appeared to have not sought justice but a conviction. 

At the same time, I was talking to all the folks who had a hand in freeing Fred. In a sense that was the simplest aspect to report because, despite there being a lot of ground to cover, their work was all in the court record or meticulous notes.

Separate from lining up all the decades of details, I also had to make sense of the legal issues. I found myself in the NYU law library picking up texts about habeas corpus and speaking with many prominent legal scholars to get a foundation in the sometimes illogical world of post-conviction law.

  What about the story surprised you?

I was really surprised at the dogmatic refusal of the Clark County DA’s office to reexamine the case against Fred. In 1995, prosecutors had argued that Fred’s alibi was a fantasy and that his long-lost brother – whom he hadn’t seen since he was a child – had been impersonating him in an elaborate scheme. Nearly two decades later, Fred’s federal public defender proved that completely false.

His investigator found Robert, which the prosecution had been either unwilling or unable to do, and showed that Robert was in Texas during the time the prosecutors claimed he was impersonating Fred in Wyoming, Utah and Idaho. The DA’s office never offered another theory to explain Fred’s alibi. They didn’t seem troubled that exculpatory evidence had been found in the prosecution’s file, or that [William] Kephart [who prosecuted the case] had elicited false testimony from a jailhouse snitch on the stand, or by any of the other myriad problems with the case. The people who put Fred away weren’t even at the DA’s office anymore. The man in charge now, Steve Wolfson, had no connection to the original trial. Yet, he was unwilling to question if the state had the right man.

What was most challenging?

Sorting through decades of complex legal issues and putting it all into its proper context was challenging at times. I was grateful for the legal experts who let me bounce things off them, and Fred’s lawyer, Ryan Norwood, who patiently took me through all the details. There was so much that happened in the trial and afterwards that I couldn’t possibly get it all in the story, so I had to choose salient legal twists and turns that captured the overall essence. I didn’t want to over or under emphasize the wrong things, and since my expertise is in the military, I had to rely much more on outside advice than typical.

Megan is a military reporter for ProPublica. If you like going behind the scenes of stories, be sure to subscribe to “The Breakthrough,” ProPublica’s new podcast, which does just that.

Sign up for the HuffPost Must Reads newsletter. Each Sunday, we will bring you the best original reporting, long form writing and breaking news from The Huffington Post and around the web, plus behind-the-scenes looks at how it’s all made. Click here to sign up!

-- This feed and its contents are the property of The Huffington Post, and use is subject to our terms. It may be used for personal consumption, but may not be distributed on a website.

from DIYS http://ift.tt/2rW7P0c

[chpatdoorsl3z0a1]

A Poodle Act, A Murder And The Wrong Man Behind Bars

A Vegas showman with a poodle act was stabbed to death dozens of times in his trailer. His lover, a good looking drifter, was locked up for the crime. But it turns out he didn’t do it and the story, being as Vegas as things go, has another twist. The prosecutors knew of the possibility of his innocence and tried him anyway. And still there’s even more ― but you’ll have to read the article to find out what happened next.

In the meantime, we spoke with Megan Rose, the reporter who uncovered all the details for her feature in Vanity Fair and ProPublica, about how she got the story. 

The article has an intriguing headline, “Kafka in Vegas.” Where did that come from?

“Kafka in Vegas” came from the brilliant minds at Vanity Fair, which was ProPublica’s partner on the story. We all loved the headline for how it captured the byzantine nightmare Fred Steese had been put through with his wrongful conviction and the nearly 21 years of legal hoops he had to jump through to prove his innocence. The absurdity of Fred’s tale, as well as the details of the murder, felt very Kafkaesque.

Normally you cover the military for ProPublica. This is a classic story of true crime. How did you get the assignment?

A former colleague from the Las Vegas Sun newspaper, where I worked almost a decade ago, had become an investigator for the Federal Public Defender’s Office and was assigned Fred’s case. I heard tidbits from her over the years about Fred’s plight and was fascinated with the story and the efforts to free him. My gracious editors at ProPublica let me divert from the military beat to investigate.

This story is very complicated. There are so many players and so many threads. Where did you begin your reporting? And then how did you proceed. There is so much to this story that my first draft was 26,000 words! Step one was to figure out how a man with such an extensive alibi ended up convicted in the first place, so that took me back to the 1995 trial. Fred’s civil lawyer kindly let me take over her conference room in downtown Las Vegas, and I spent a week going through more than a dozen legal boxes filled with paperwork: the 5-week trial transcript, Fred’s childhood history, all the motions filed over the years, etc. From there a picture emerged of two prosecutors who appeared to have not sought justice but a conviction. 

At the same time, I was talking to all the folks who had a hand in freeing Fred. In a sense that was the simplest aspect to report because, despite there being a lot of ground to cover, their work was all in the court record or meticulous notes.

Separate from lining up all the decades of details, I also had to make sense of the legal issues. I found myself in the NYU law library picking up texts about habeas corpus and speaking with many prominent legal scholars to get a foundation in the sometimes illogical world of post-conviction law.

  What about the story surprised you?

I was really surprised at the dogmatic refusal of the Clark County DA’s office to reexamine the case against Fred. In 1995, prosecutors had argued that Fred’s alibi was a fantasy and that his long-lost brother – whom he hadn’t seen since he was a child – had been impersonating him in an elaborate scheme. Nearly two decades later, Fred’s federal public defender proved that completely false.

His investigator found Robert, which the prosecution had been either unwilling or unable to do, and showed that Robert was in Texas during the time the prosecutors claimed he was impersonating Fred in Wyoming, Utah and Idaho. The DA’s office never offered another theory to explain Fred’s alibi. They didn’t seem troubled that exculpatory evidence had been found in the prosecution’s file, or that [William] Kephart [who prosecuted the case] had elicited false testimony from a jailhouse snitch on the stand, or by any of the other myriad problems with the case. The people who put Fred away weren’t even at the DA’s office anymore. The man in charge now, Steve Wolfson, had no connection to the original trial. Yet, he was unwilling to question if the state had the right man.

What was most challenging?

Sorting through decades of complex legal issues and putting it all into its proper context was challenging at times. I was grateful for the legal experts who let me bounce things off them, and Fred’s lawyer, Ryan Norwood, who patiently took me through all the details. There was so much that happened in the trial and afterwards that I couldn’t possibly get it all in the story, so I had to choose salient legal twists and turns that captured the overall essence. I didn’t want to over or under emphasize the wrong things, and since my expertise is in the military, I had to rely much more on outside advice than typical.

Megan is a military reporter for ProPublica. If you like going behind the scenes of stories, be sure to subscribe to “The Breakthrough,” ProPublica’s new podcast, which does just that.

Sign up for the HuffPost Must Reads newsletter. Each Sunday, we will bring you the best original reporting, long form writing and breaking news from The Huffington Post and around the web, plus behind-the-scenes looks at how it’s all made. Click here to sign up!

-- This feed and its contents are the property of The Huffington Post, and use is subject to our terms. It may be used for personal consumption, but may not be distributed on a website.

from DIYS http://ift.tt/2rW7P0c

[exfrenchdorsl4p0a1]

A Poodle Act, A Murder And The Wrong Man Behind Bars

A Vegas showman with a poodle act was stabbed to death dozens of times in his trailer. His lover, a good looking drifter, was locked up for the crime. But it turns out he didn’t do it and the story, being as Vegas as things go, has another twist. The prosecutors knew of the possibility of his innocence and tried him anyway. And still there’s even more ― but you’ll have to read the article to find out what happened next.

In the meantime, we spoke with Megan Rose, the reporter who uncovered all the details for her feature in Vanity Fair and ProPublica, about how she got the story. 

The article has an intriguing headline, “Kafka in Vegas.” Where did that come from?

“Kafka in Vegas” came from the brilliant minds at Vanity Fair, which was ProPublica’s partner on the story. We all loved the headline for how it captured the byzantine nightmare Fred Steese had been put through with his wrongful conviction and the nearly 21 years of legal hoops he had to jump through to prove his innocence. The absurdity of Fred’s tale, as well as the details of the murder, felt very Kafkaesque.

Normally you cover the military for ProPublica. This is a classic story of true crime. How did you get the assignment?

A former colleague from the Las Vegas Sun newspaper, where I worked almost a decade ago, had become an investigator for the Federal Public Defender’s Office and was assigned Fred’s case. I heard tidbits from her over the years about Fred’s plight and was fascinated with the story and the efforts to free him. My gracious editors at ProPublica let me divert from the military beat to investigate.

This story is very complicated. There are so many players and so many threads. Where did you begin your reporting? And then how did you proceed. There is so much to this story that my first draft was 26,000 words! Step one was to figure out how a man with such an extensive alibi ended up convicted in the first place, so that took me back to the 1995 trial. Fred’s civil lawyer kindly let me take over her conference room in downtown Las Vegas, and I spent a week going through more than a dozen legal boxes filled with paperwork: the 5-week trial transcript, Fred’s childhood history, all the motions filed over the years, etc. From there a picture emerged of two prosecutors who appeared to have not sought justice but a conviction. 

At the same time, I was talking to all the folks who had a hand in freeing Fred. In a sense that was the simplest aspect to report because, despite there being a lot of ground to cover, their work was all in the court record or meticulous notes.

Separate from lining up all the decades of details, I also had to make sense of the legal issues. I found myself in the NYU law library picking up texts about habeas corpus and speaking with many prominent legal scholars to get a foundation in the sometimes illogical world of post-conviction law.

  What about the story surprised you?

I was really surprised at the dogmatic refusal of the Clark County DA’s office to reexamine the case against Fred. In 1995, prosecutors had argued that Fred’s alibi was a fantasy and that his long-lost brother – whom he hadn’t seen since he was a child – had been impersonating him in an elaborate scheme. Nearly two decades later, Fred’s federal public defender proved that completely false.

His investigator found Robert, which the prosecution had been either unwilling or unable to do, and showed that Robert was in Texas during the time the prosecutors claimed he was impersonating Fred in Wyoming, Utah and Idaho. The DA’s office never offered another theory to explain Fred’s alibi. They didn’t seem troubled that exculpatory evidence had been found in the prosecution’s file, or that [William] Kephart [who prosecuted the case] had elicited false testimony from a jailhouse snitch on the stand, or by any of the other myriad problems with the case. The people who put Fred away weren’t even at the DA’s office anymore. The man in charge now, Steve Wolfson, had no connection to the original trial. Yet, he was unwilling to question if the state had the right man.

What was most challenging?

Sorting through decades of complex legal issues and putting it all into its proper context was challenging at times. I was grateful for the legal experts who let me bounce things off them, and Fred’s lawyer, Ryan Norwood, who patiently took me through all the details. There was so much that happened in the trial and afterwards that I couldn’t possibly get it all in the story, so I had to choose salient legal twists and turns that captured the overall essence. I didn’t want to over or under emphasize the wrong things, and since my expertise is in the military, I had to rely much more on outside advice than typical.

Megan is a military reporter for ProPublica. If you like going behind the scenes of stories, be sure to subscribe to “The Breakthrough,” ProPublica’s new podcast, which does just that.

Sign up for the HuffPost Must Reads newsletter. Each Sunday, we will bring you the best original reporting, long form writing and breaking news from The Huffington Post and around the web, plus behind-the-scenes looks at how it’s all made. Click here to sign up!

-- This feed and its contents are the property of The Huffington Post, and use is subject to our terms. It may be used for personal consumption, but may not be distributed on a website.

from DIYS http://ift.tt/2rW7P0c

[grgedoors02142]

A Poodle Act, A Murder And The Wrong Man Behind Bars

A Vegas showman with a poodle act was stabbed to death dozens of times in his trailer. His lover, a good looking drifter, was locked up for the crime. But it turns out he didn’t do it and the story, being as Vegas as things go, has another twist. The prosecutors knew of the possibility of his innocence and tried him anyway. And still there’s even more ― but you’ll have to read the article to find out what happened next.

In the meantime, we spoke with Megan Rose, the reporter who uncovered all the details for her feature in Vanity Fair and ProPublica, about how she got the story. 

The article has an intriguing headline, “Kafka in Vegas.” Where did that come from?

“Kafka in Vegas” came from the brilliant minds at Vanity Fair, which was ProPublica’s partner on the story. We all loved the headline for how it captured the byzantine nightmare Fred Steese had been put through with his wrongful conviction and the nearly 21 years of legal hoops he had to jump through to prove his innocence. The absurdity of Fred’s tale, as well as the details of the murder, felt very Kafkaesque.

Normally you cover the military for ProPublica. This is a classic story of true crime. How did you get the assignment?

A former colleague from the Las Vegas Sun newspaper, where I worked almost a decade ago, had become an investigator for the Federal Public Defender’s Office and was assigned Fred’s case. I heard tidbits from her over the years about Fred’s plight and was fascinated with the story and the efforts to free him. My gracious editors at ProPublica let me divert from the military beat to investigate.

This story is very complicated. There are so many players and so many threads. Where did you begin your reporting? And then how did you proceed. There is so much to this story that my first draft was 26,000 words! Step one was to figure out how a man with such an extensive alibi ended up convicted in the first place, so that took me back to the 1995 trial. Fred’s civil lawyer kindly let me take over her conference room in downtown Las Vegas, and I spent a week going through more than a dozen legal boxes filled with paperwork: the 5-week trial transcript, Fred’s childhood history, all the motions filed over the years, etc. From there a picture emerged of two prosecutors who appeared to have not sought justice but a conviction. 

At the same time, I was talking to all the folks who had a hand in freeing Fred. In a sense that was the simplest aspect to report because, despite there being a lot of ground to cover, their work was all in the court record or meticulous notes.

Separate from lining up all the decades of details, I also had to make sense of the legal issues. I found myself in the NYU law library picking up texts about habeas corpus and speaking with many prominent legal scholars to get a foundation in the sometimes illogical world of post-conviction law.

  What about the story surprised you?

I was really surprised at the dogmatic refusal of the Clark County DA’s office to reexamine the case against Fred. In 1995, prosecutors had argued that Fred’s alibi was a fantasy and that his long-lost brother – whom he hadn’t seen since he was a child – had been impersonating him in an elaborate scheme. Nearly two decades later, Fred’s federal public defender proved that completely false.

His investigator found Robert, which the prosecution had been either unwilling or unable to do, and showed that Robert was in Texas during the time the prosecutors claimed he was impersonating Fred in Wyoming, Utah and Idaho. The DA’s office never offered another theory to explain Fred’s alibi. They didn’t seem troubled that exculpatory evidence had been found in the prosecution’s file, or that [William] Kephart [who prosecuted the case] had elicited false testimony from a jailhouse snitch on the stand, or by any of the other myriad problems with the case. The people who put Fred away weren’t even at the DA’s office anymore. The man in charge now, Steve Wolfson, had no connection to the original trial. Yet, he was unwilling to question if the state had the right man.

What was most challenging?

Sorting through decades of complex legal issues and putting it all into its proper context was challenging at times. I was grateful for the legal experts who let me bounce things off them, and Fred’s lawyer, Ryan Norwood, who patiently took me through all the details. There was so much that happened in the trial and afterwards that I couldn’t possibly get it all in the story, so I had to choose salient legal twists and turns that captured the overall essence. I didn’t want to over or under emphasize the wrong things, and since my expertise is in the military, I had to rely much more on outside advice than typical.

Megan is a military reporter for ProPublica. If you like going behind the scenes of stories, be sure to subscribe to “The Breakthrough,” ProPublica’s new podcast, which does just that.

Sign up for the HuffPost Must Reads newsletter. Each Sunday, we will bring you the best original reporting, long form writing and breaking news from The Huffington Post and around the web, plus behind-the-scenes looks at how it’s all made. Click here to sign up!

-- This feed and its contents are the property of The Huffington Post, and use is subject to our terms. It may be used for personal consumption, but may not be distributed on a website.

from DIYS http://ift.tt/2rW7P0c

[rtawngs20815]

A Poodle Act, A Murder And The Wrong Man Behind Bars

A Vegas showman with a poodle act was stabbed to death dozens of times in his trailer. His lover, a good looking drifter, was locked up for the crime. But it turns out he didn’t do it and the story, being as Vegas as things go, has another twist. The prosecutors knew of the possibility of his innocence and tried him anyway. And still there’s even more ― but you’ll have to read the article to find out what happened next.

In the meantime, we spoke with Megan Rose, the reporter who uncovered all the details for her feature in Vanity Fair and ProPublica, about how she got the story. 

The article has an intriguing headline, “Kafka in Vegas.” Where did that come from?

“Kafka in Vegas” came from the brilliant minds at Vanity Fair, which was ProPublica’s partner on the story. We all loved the headline for how it captured the byzantine nightmare Fred Steese had been put through with his wrongful conviction and the nearly 21 years of legal hoops he had to jump through to prove his innocence. The absurdity of Fred’s tale, as well as the details of the murder, felt very Kafkaesque.

Normally you cover the military for ProPublica. This is a classic story of true crime. How did you get the assignment?

A former colleague from the Las Vegas Sun newspaper, where I worked almost a decade ago, had become an investigator for the Federal Public Defender’s Office and was assigned Fred’s case. I heard tidbits from her over the years about Fred’s plight and was fascinated with the story and the efforts to free him. My gracious editors at ProPublica let me divert from the military beat to investigate.

This story is very complicated. There are so many players and so many threads. Where did you begin your reporting? And then how did you proceed. There is so much to this story that my first draft was 26,000 words! Step one was to figure out how a man with such an extensive alibi ended up convicted in the first place, so that took me back to the 1995 trial. Fred’s civil lawyer kindly let me take over her conference room in downtown Las Vegas, and I spent a week going through more than a dozen legal boxes filled with paperwork: the 5-week trial transcript, Fred’s childhood history, all the motions filed over the years, etc. From there a picture emerged of two prosecutors who appeared to have not sought justice but a conviction. 

At the same time, I was talking to all the folks who had a hand in freeing Fred. In a sense that was the simplest aspect to report because, despite there being a lot of ground to cover, their work was all in the court record or meticulous notes.

Separate from lining up all the decades of details, I also had to make sense of the legal issues. I found myself in the NYU law library picking up texts about habeas corpus and speaking with many prominent legal scholars to get a foundation in the sometimes illogical world of post-conviction law.

  What about the story surprised you?

I was really surprised at the dogmatic refusal of the Clark County DA’s office to reexamine the case against Fred. In 1995, prosecutors had argued that Fred’s alibi was a fantasy and that his long-lost brother – whom he hadn’t seen since he was a child – had been impersonating him in an elaborate scheme. Nearly two decades later, Fred’s federal public defender proved that completely false.

His investigator found Robert, which the prosecution had been either unwilling or unable to do, and showed that Robert was in Texas during the time the prosecutors claimed he was impersonating Fred in Wyoming, Utah and Idaho. The DA’s office never offered another theory to explain Fred’s alibi. They didn’t seem troubled that exculpatory evidence had been found in the prosecution’s file, or that [William] Kephart [who prosecuted the case] had elicited false testimony from a jailhouse snitch on the stand, or by any of the other myriad problems with the case. The people who put Fred away weren’t even at the DA’s office anymore. The man in charge now, Steve Wolfson, had no connection to the original trial. Yet, he was unwilling to question if the state had the right man.

What was most challenging?

Sorting through decades of complex legal issues and putting it all into its proper context was challenging at times. I was grateful for the legal experts who let me bounce things off them, and Fred’s lawyer, Ryan Norwood, who patiently took me through all the details. There was so much that happened in the trial and afterwards that I couldn’t possibly get it all in the story, so I had to choose salient legal twists and turns that captured the overall essence. I didn’t want to over or under emphasize the wrong things, and since my expertise is in the military, I had to rely much more on outside advice than typical.

Megan is a military reporter for ProPublica. If you like going behind the scenes of stories, be sure to subscribe to “The Breakthrough,” ProPublica’s new podcast, which does just that.

Sign up for the HuffPost Must Reads newsletter. Each Sunday, we will bring you the best original reporting, long form writing and breaking news from The Huffington Post and around the web, plus behind-the-scenes looks at how it’s all made. Click here to sign up!

-- This feed and its contents are the property of The Huffington Post, and use is subject to our terms. It may be used for personal consumption, but may not be distributed on a website.

from DIYS http://ift.tt/2rW7P0c

[rtscrndr53704]

A Poodle Act, A Murder And The Wrong Man Behind Bars

A Vegas showman with a poodle act was stabbed to death dozens of times in his trailer. His lover, a good looking drifter, was locked up for the crime. But it turns out he didn’t do it and the story, being as Vegas as things go, has another twist. The prosecutors knew of the possibility of his innocence and tried him anyway. And still there’s even more ― but you’ll have to read the article to find out what happened next.

In the meantime, we spoke with Megan Rose, the reporter who uncovered all the details for her feature in Vanity Fair and ProPublica, about how she got the story. 

The article has an intriguing headline, “Kafka in Vegas.” Where did that come from?

“Kafka in Vegas” came from the brilliant minds at Vanity Fair, which was ProPublica’s partner on the story. We all loved the headline for how it captured the byzantine nightmare Fred Steese had been put through with his wrongful conviction and the nearly 21 years of legal hoops he had to jump through to prove his innocence. The absurdity of Fred’s tale, as well as the details of the murder, felt very Kafkaesque.

Normally you cover the military for ProPublica. This is a classic story of true crime. How did you get the assignment?

A former colleague from the Las Vegas Sun newspaper, where I worked almost a decade ago, had become an investigator for the Federal Public Defender’s Office and was assigned Fred’s case. I heard tidbits from her over the years about Fred’s plight and was fascinated with the story and the efforts to free him. My gracious editors at ProPublica let me divert from the military beat to investigate.

This story is very complicated. There are so many players and so many threads. Where did you begin your reporting? And then how did you proceed. There is so much to this story that my first draft was 26,000 words! Step one was to figure out how a man with such an extensive alibi ended up convicted in the first place, so that took me back to the 1995 trial. Fred’s civil lawyer kindly let me take over her conference room in downtown Las Vegas, and I spent a week going through more than a dozen legal boxes filled with paperwork: the 5-week trial transcript, Fred’s childhood history, all the motions filed over the years, etc. From there a picture emerged of two prosecutors who appeared to have not sought justice but a conviction. 

At the same time, I was talking to all the folks who had a hand in freeing Fred. In a sense that was the simplest aspect to report because, despite there being a lot of ground to cover, their work was all in the court record or meticulous notes.

Separate from lining up all the decades of details, I also had to make sense of the legal issues. I found myself in the NYU law library picking up texts about habeas corpus and speaking with many prominent legal scholars to get a foundation in the sometimes illogical world of post-conviction law.

  What about the story surprised you?

I was really surprised at the dogmatic refusal of the Clark County DA’s office to reexamine the case against Fred. In 1995, prosecutors had argued that Fred’s alibi was a fantasy and that his long-lost brother – whom he hadn’t seen since he was a child – had been impersonating him in an elaborate scheme. Nearly two decades later, Fred’s federal public defender proved that completely false.

His investigator found Robert, which the prosecution had been either unwilling or unable to do, and showed that Robert was in Texas during the time the prosecutors claimed he was impersonating Fred in Wyoming, Utah and Idaho. The DA’s office never offered another theory to explain Fred’s alibi. They didn’t seem troubled that exculpatory evidence had been found in the prosecution’s file, or that [William] Kephart [who prosecuted the case] had elicited false testimony from a jailhouse snitch on the stand, or by any of the other myriad problems with the case. The people who put Fred away weren’t even at the DA’s office anymore. The man in charge now, Steve Wolfson, had no connection to the original trial. Yet, he was unwilling to question if the state had the right man.

What was most challenging?

Sorting through decades of complex legal issues and putting it all into its proper context was challenging at times. I was grateful for the legal experts who let me bounce things off them, and Fred’s lawyer, Ryan Norwood, who patiently took me through all the details. There was so much that happened in the trial and afterwards that I couldn’t possibly get it all in the story, so I had to choose salient legal twists and turns that captured the overall essence. I didn’t want to over or under emphasize the wrong things, and since my expertise is in the military, I had to rely much more on outside advice than typical.

Megan is a military reporter for ProPublica. If you like going behind the scenes of stories, be sure to subscribe to “The Breakthrough,” ProPublica’s new podcast, which does just that.

Sign up for the HuffPost Must Reads newsletter. Each Sunday, we will bring you the best original reporting, long form writing and breaking news from The Huffington Post and around the web, plus behind-the-scenes looks at how it’s all made. Click here to sign up!

-- This feed and its contents are the property of The Huffington Post, and use is subject to our terms. It may be used for personal consumption, but may not be distributed on a website.

from DIYS http://ift.tt/2rW7P0c

[repwincoml4a0a5]

A Poodle Act, A Murder And The Wrong Man Behind Bars

A Vegas showman with a poodle act was stabbed to death dozens of times in his trailer. His lover, a good looking drifter, was locked up for the crime. But it turns out he didn’t do it and the story, being as Vegas as things go, has another twist. The prosecutors knew of the possibility of his innocence and tried him anyway. And still there’s even more ― but you’ll have to read the article to find out what happened next.

In the meantime, we spoke with Megan Rose, the reporter who uncovered all the details for her feature in Vanity Fair and ProPublica, about how she got the story. 

The article has an intriguing headline, “Kafka in Vegas.” Where did that come from?

“Kafka in Vegas” came from the brilliant minds at Vanity Fair, which was ProPublica’s partner on the story. We all loved the headline for how it captured the byzantine nightmare Fred Steese had been put through with his wrongful conviction and the nearly 21 years of legal hoops he had to jump through to prove his innocence. The absurdity of Fred’s tale, as well as the details of the murder, felt very Kafkaesque.

Normally you cover the military for ProPublica. This is a classic story of true crime. How did you get the assignment?

A former colleague from the Las Vegas Sun newspaper, where I worked almost a decade ago, had become an investigator for the Federal Public Defender’s Office and was assigned Fred’s case. I heard tidbits from her over the years about Fred’s plight and was fascinated with the story and the efforts to free him. My gracious editors at ProPublica let me divert from the military beat to investigate.

This story is very complicated. There are so many players and so many threads. Where did you begin your reporting? And then how did you proceed. There is so much to this story that my first draft was 26,000 words! Step one was to figure out how a man with such an extensive alibi ended up convicted in the first place, so that took me back to the 1995 trial. Fred’s civil lawyer kindly let me take over her conference room in downtown Las Vegas, and I spent a week going through more than a dozen legal boxes filled with paperwork: the 5-week trial transcript, Fred’s childhood history, all the motions filed over the years, etc. From there a picture emerged of two prosecutors who appeared to have not sought justice but a conviction. 

At the same time, I was talking to all the folks who had a hand in freeing Fred. In a sense that was the simplest aspect to report because, despite there being a lot of ground to cover, their work was all in the court record or meticulous notes.

Separate from lining up all the decades of details, I also had to make sense of the legal issues. I found myself in the NYU law library picking up texts about habeas corpus and speaking with many prominent legal scholars to get a foundation in the sometimes illogical world of post-conviction law.

  What about the story surprised you?

I was really surprised at the dogmatic refusal of the Clark County DA’s office to reexamine the case against Fred. In 1995, prosecutors had argued that Fred’s alibi was a fantasy and that his long-lost brother – whom he hadn’t seen since he was a child – had been impersonating him in an elaborate scheme. Nearly two decades later, Fred’s federal public defender proved that completely false.

His investigator found Robert, which the prosecution had been either unwilling or unable to do, and showed that Robert was in Texas during the time the prosecutors claimed he was impersonating Fred in Wyoming, Utah and Idaho. The DA’s office never offered another theory to explain Fred’s alibi. They didn’t seem troubled that exculpatory evidence had been found in the prosecution’s file, or that [William] Kephart [who prosecuted the case] had elicited false testimony from a jailhouse snitch on the stand, or by any of the other myriad problems with the case. The people who put Fred away weren’t even at the DA’s office anymore. The man in charge now, Steve Wolfson, had no connection to the original trial. Yet, he was unwilling to question if the state had the right man.

What was most challenging?

Sorting through decades of complex legal issues and putting it all into its proper context was challenging at times. I was grateful for the legal experts who let me bounce things off them, and Fred’s lawyer, Ryan Norwood, who patiently took me through all the details. There was so much that happened in the trial and afterwards that I couldn’t possibly get it all in the story, so I had to choose salient legal twists and turns that captured the overall essence. I didn’t want to over or under emphasize the wrong things, and since my expertise is in the military, I had to rely much more on outside advice than typical.

Megan is a military reporter for ProPublica. If you like going behind the scenes of stories, be sure to subscribe to “The Breakthrough,” ProPublica’s new podcast, which does just that.

Sign up for the HuffPost Must Reads newsletter. Each Sunday, we will bring you the best original reporting, long form writing and breaking news from The Huffington Post and around the web, plus behind-the-scenes looks at how it’s all made. Click here to sign up!

-- This feed and its contents are the property of The Huffington Post, and use is subject to our terms. It may be used for personal consumption, but may not be distributed on a website.

from DIYS http://ift.tt/2rW7P0c

[pat78701]

A Poodle Act, A Murder And The Wrong Man Behind Bars

A Vegas showman with a poodle act was stabbed to death dozens of times in his trailer. His lover, a good looking drifter, was locked up for the crime. But it turns out he didn’t do it and the story, being as Vegas as things go, has another twist. The prosecutors knew of the possibility of his innocence and tried him anyway. And still there’s even more ― but you’ll have to read the article to find out what happened next.

In the meantime, we spoke with Megan Rose, the reporter who uncovered all the details for her feature in Vanity Fair and ProPublica, about how she got the story. 

The article has an intriguing headline, “Kafka in Vegas.” Where did that come from?

“Kafka in Vegas” came from the brilliant minds at Vanity Fair, which was ProPublica’s partner on the story. We all loved the headline for how it captured the byzantine nightmare Fred Steese had been put through with his wrongful conviction and the nearly 21 years of legal hoops he had to jump through to prove his innocence. The absurdity of Fred’s tale, as well as the details of the murder, felt very Kafkaesque.

Normally you cover the military for ProPublica. This is a classic story of true crime. How did you get the assignment?

A former colleague from the Las Vegas Sun newspaper, where I worked almost a decade ago, had become an investigator for the Federal Public Defender’s Office and was assigned Fred’s case. I heard tidbits from her over the years about Fred’s plight and was fascinated with the story and the efforts to free him. My gracious editors at ProPublica let me divert from the military beat to investigate.

This story is very complicated. There are so many players and so many threads. Where did you begin your reporting? And then how did you proceed. There is so much to this story that my first draft was 26,000 words! Step one was to figure out how a man with such an extensive alibi ended up convicted in the first place, so that took me back to the 1995 trial. Fred’s civil lawyer kindly let me take over her conference room in downtown Las Vegas, and I spent a week going through more than a dozen legal boxes filled with paperwork: the 5-week trial transcript, Fred’s childhood history, all the motions filed over the years, etc. From there a picture emerged of two prosecutors who appeared to have not sought justice but a conviction. 

At the same time, I was talking to all the folks who had a hand in freeing Fred. In a sense that was the simplest aspect to report because, despite there being a lot of ground to cover, their work was all in the court record or meticulous notes.

Separate from lining up all the decades of details, I also had to make sense of the legal issues. I found myself in the NYU law library picking up texts about habeas corpus and speaking with many prominent legal scholars to get a foundation in the sometimes illogical world of post-conviction law.

  What about the story surprised you?

I was really surprised at the dogmatic refusal of the Clark County DA’s office to reexamine the case against Fred. In 1995, prosecutors had argued that Fred’s alibi was a fantasy and that his long-lost brother – whom he hadn’t seen since he was a child – had been impersonating him in an elaborate scheme. Nearly two decades later, Fred’s federal public defender proved that completely false.

His investigator found Robert, which the prosecution had been either unwilling or unable to do, and showed that Robert was in Texas during the time the prosecutors claimed he was impersonating Fred in Wyoming, Utah and Idaho. The DA’s office never offered another theory to explain Fred’s alibi. They didn’t seem troubled that exculpatory evidence had been found in the prosecution’s file, or that [William] Kephart [who prosecuted the case] had elicited false testimony from a jailhouse snitch on the stand, or by any of the other myriad problems with the case. The people who put Fred away weren’t even at the DA’s office anymore. The man in charge now, Steve Wolfson, had no connection to the original trial. Yet, he was unwilling to question if the state had the right man.

What was most challenging?

Sorting through decades of complex legal issues and putting it all into its proper context was challenging at times. I was grateful for the legal experts who let me bounce things off them, and Fred’s lawyer, Ryan Norwood, who patiently took me through all the details. There was so much that happened in the trial and afterwards that I couldn’t possibly get it all in the story, so I had to choose salient legal twists and turns that captured the overall essence. I didn’t want to over or under emphasize the wrong things, and since my expertise is in the military, I had to rely much more on outside advice than typical.

Megan is a military reporter for ProPublica. If you like going behind the scenes of stories, be sure to subscribe to “The Breakthrough,” ProPublica’s new podcast, which does just that.

Sign up for the HuffPost Must Reads newsletter. Each Sunday, we will bring you the best original reporting, long form writing and breaking news from The Huffington Post and around the web, plus behind-the-scenes looks at how it’s all made. Click here to sign up!

-- This feed and its contents are the property of The Huffington Post, and use is subject to our terms. It may be used for personal consumption, but may not be distributed on a website.

from DIYS http://ift.tt/2rW7P0c

[soulcrazy2017-blog]

Wellness blogger Belle Gibson admits she never had cancer

New Post has been published on https://soulcrazy.org/wellness-blogger-belle-gibson-admits-she-never-had-cancer/

Wellness blogger Belle Gibson admits she never had cancer

Disgraced wellness blogger Belle Gibson, who built an internet network and bought a recipe ebook off the again of claims she cured terminal mind cancer through eating regimen and lifestyle on my own, has admitted she by no means had cancer.

cancer

“None of it’s real,” Gibson informed the Australian Women’s Weekly in an interview to be published on Thursday.

“I don’t want forgiveness. I only think [speaking out] became the responsible factor to do. Above whatever, I would love people to say, ‘Good enough; she’s human.’”

Gibson’s well-being empire, which blanketed a cell cellphone app known as The Complete Pantry and a website and recipe e-book of the same call, began to collapse in March while it was found out she never made lots of bucks in charity donations she promised off the lower back of money raised through her success. Later that month, Gibson stated she had been “wrongly” recognized with cancers she claimed to have in her blood, spleen, uterus and liver via a German magnetic therapist but maintained her terminal mind cancer sign become actual.

She refused to reveal newshounds accurate records or any evidence to lower back her claims that by shunning traditional remedy, her brain most cancers have been stored in the test.

The Women’s Weekly interview is the first time Gibson has spoken to the media following questions being raised approximately her most cancers claims.

“Throughout the interviews, each time challenged, Belle cried without problems and muddled her words,” the Ladies’ Weekly reviews.

“She says she is passionate about avoiding gluten, dairy, and coffee, but doesn’t without a doubt understand how most cancers works.”

While questions started to be asked about Gibson’s tale remaining month, she experienced a swift backlash on social media, with many people who observed her pronouncing they felt betrayed. She started deleting her social media debts and blog posts about her numerous illnesses.

Many criticized Gibson for placing most cancers sufferers in threat by way of suggesting dietary strategies by myself should efficiently treat them.

Consumer Affairs Victoria is now investigating Gibson, even as Penguin has ceased publishing her recipe ebook and the Apple shop now not gives her app for download.

Inside the interview, Gibson says she has an upcoming meeting with Penguin. But, Penguin communications supervisor Camilla Sunbather advised Mother or father Australia on Thursday no such meeting have been arranged.

“We are disillusioned that, despite several requests for rationalization concerning recent allegations made in opposition to her, Belle is but to reply to us directly,” she said. “We’ve got examine with hobby her current interview and are considering our rights and options as set out in our settlement along with her. We haven’t any understanding of the forthcoming assembly she refers to.” News Ltd, which seems to have obtained a complete replica of the Girls’ Weekly interview beforehand of the ebook, reports Gibson fails to explain completely why she lied, saying only that she had a difficult childhood.

Her false illness claims date back to 2009 when she claimed on an internet forum to have gone through a couple of heart surgeries and to have died on the operating desk.

Inside the days following the allegations in opposition to her, Gibson published on social media that she changed into being bullied and had modified “thousands of lives for the better.”

Meanwhile, the media was criticized for going for walks sparkling articles about Gibson before the allegations coming to light without nicely checking the information of her tale. Most cancers charges will fuel growth almost six times quicker in Ladies than in men over the subsequent 20 years, with weight problems partially responsible, experts predict.

As numerous of the obesity-associated most cancers kinds simplest effect Girls, the growing variety of humans of both sexes who’ve severely obese is likely to have a more effect on the prevalence of the disorder among Ladies, in keeping with the evaluation by way of most cancers Studies Uk.

Cases of ovarian, cervical and oral cancers are anticipated to rise the maximum. Charges will upward push by around 0.5% for guys and 3% for Women, meaning an expected 4.five million Women and 4.eight million men may be recognized with most cancers by 2035.

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That equates to projected Uk most cancers prices growing via approximately 0.five% for men and 3% for Girls. The figures had been released on a same day because the Countrywide Institute for Health and Care Excellence (High-quality) announced that it changed into recommending that the breast cancer drug palbociclib should not be routinely funded by the NHS in England.

Charities decried the choice via the medicine watchdog, stressing the importance of developing and assisting greater treatments to help Ladies in surviving, but additionally, they urged Ladies to trade their existence to minimize their risk.

Most cancers Research Uk’s chief government Sir Harpal Kumar said: “Those new figures screen the great venture we hold to face, both Inside the United Kingdom and international. Research is at the coronary heart of finding approaches to reduce cancer’s burden and make certain more human beings live on, especially for tough-to-treat diseases in which the outlook for sufferers continues to be bleak. We need to keep operating tough to lessen the devastating impact cancer may have on so many families.

“The ultra-modern figures show that extra than eight million human beings die from cancer every yr across the world. More people die from cancer than Aids, malaria, and tuberculosis put together. With greater investment into Studies, we hope to make large improvements over the subsequent two decades in diagnosing the ailment in advance and enhancing and developing remedies so that by using 2034, 3 in four humans will live to tell the tale their disorder.” Smoking is another aspect at the back of the projected boom of most cancers Cases amongst Women, so as to imply the distance between the quantity of men and females with the ailment narrows. High smoking amongst Women befell later than guys, and lighting fixtures upkeep to have a massive effect on the quantity of most cancers Cases recognized each 12 months, says Cancer Studies United Kingdom.

Sarah Soule, head of Health data at the world cancer Studies Fund, said lack of exercising and alcohol consumption were additionally using the anticipated increase In the United Kingdom most cancers price for Women.

“its miles concerning that quotes are expected to rise so sharply in Women, mainly as so many most cancers Instances will be prevented,” she stated. “As an example, approximately in 5 breasts, most cancers Cases Inside the Uk may be avoided if Ladies maintained a healthy weight, have been extra physically lively and didn’t drink alcohol – that’s around 20,000 fewer Cases a yr. Other types of cancer that might be decreased through Girls having a more fit lifestyle include womb and ovary.”

Professor Kevin Fenton, the director of Health and Wellness tips at Public Fitness England, said: “The pinnacle things we will all do to prevent and reduce the risk of most cancers are quitting smoking, maintaining a healthful weight, being bodily energetic and attending most cancers screening while invited.”

  In draft steering explaining its reasoning for its recommendation on palbociclib, which is made by way of Pfizer, the drug watchdog stated that a whole direction of treatment charges £seventy nine,560. Even though First-rate located that the drug stalled the boom of the most cancers for an additional ten months on common “it became nonetheless no longer enough to make palbociclib value efficient at its modern rate.”

The watchdog estimates that around five,500 humans in England – out of forty-five,000 new diagnoses of breast most cancers each yr – might be eligible for treatment with palbociclib.

Baroness Delyth Morgan, leader govt at Breast Cancer Now, stated: “That is the clearest example to this point that the drug appraisal device is unfit for purpose in assessing first-in-elegance breast cancer drugs. Saudi Arabia is last silent Inside the face of global outrage at the public flogging of the jailed blogger Raif Badawi, who acquired the primary 50 of one,000 lashes on Friday, a part of his punishment for jogging a liberal website dedicated to freedom of speech Inside the conservative nation.

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Anger on the flogging – performed as the sector watched the bloody denouement of the Charlie Hebdo and Jewish grocery store jihadi killings in Paris – focused on a country that may be a strategically, oil supplier and the beneficial market for us, Britain and Different Western nations, however, does no longer tolerate grievance at domestic.

Badawi was shown on a YouTube video being beaten in a square out of doors a mosque in Jeddah, watched by using a crowd of several hundred who shouted “Allahu Akbar” (God is terrific) and clapped and whistled after the flogging ended. Badawi made no sound All through the punishment and became able to walk lower back unaided afterward.

“Raif was escorted from a bus and located In the center of the gang, guarded using 8 or 9 officials,” a witness instructed Amnesty Worldwide.

“He becomes handcuffed and shackled however his face became no longer covered. A protection officer approached him from behind with a large cane and started beating him.

“Raif raised his head closer to the sky, ultimate his eyes and arching his again. He became silent, but you can tell from his face and his frame that he become in real ache.”

Badawi’s spouse, Ensaf Haidar, said the Mum or Dad from Montreal on Sunday: “Many governments around the world have protested approximately my husband’s case. I used to be optimistic until the final minute earlier than the flogging. But the Saudi authorities is behaving like Daesh [a derogatory Arabic name for Islamic State or Isis].”

Saudi Arabia joined Different Arab and Muslim nations in condemning the murder of 12 human beings on the Paris satirical newspaper Charlie Hebdo, however, irritated feedback highlighted its double general in allotting a cruel punishment to a person who turned into accused of insulting Islam.