#presenting things that factually happened in a way he can build a story that makes sense to him

[cuntylouis]

I feel like many people have a fundamental misconception of what unreliable narrator means. It's simply a narrative vehicle not a character flaw or a sign that the character is a bad person. There are also many different types of unreliable narrators in fiction. Being an unreliable narrator doesn't necessarily mean that the character is 'wrong', it definitely doesn't mean that they're wrong about everything even if some aspects in their story are inaccurate, and only some unreliable narrators actively and consciously lie. Stories that have unreliable narrators also tend to deal with perception and memory and they often don't even have one objective truth, just different versions. It reflects real life where we know human memory is highly unreliable and vague and people can interpret same events very differently

[oranjeleeuw]

hows the pacific rim au going ???? its such a neat idea and i need ppl to draw concept art for it

DO I HAVE NEWS FOR YOU MY FRIEND

First of all, life happened and happened for good, I couldn't write much before but Now. NOW is the time.

I planned and plotted a lot during the whole year I first came up with the idea and I have a kind of strong base for the AU. I also have a brilliant beta by my side, my dear friend Frog (@faramircaptainofgender), so hopefully during this summer this idea will be shared with you all outside our little friend group.

I'll take this opportunity and shamelessly turn my answer into a main post for the AU.

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the title:

Human within the Machine

[brief synopsis]

The Nations of the world developed a simulation where future Jaeger pilots can practice for in-action cases. Max Verstappen outshines every other contestants in the history of drifting, there's only one problem - he's no team player.

Charles Leclerc is determined to stop the Kaijus and end their reign, once and for all. He lost his parents due to kaiju attacks, now he feels responsible not only to avenge their deaths, but to bring a brighter future to his brothers.

Jaeger engineering is living its golden age, there is money in it and many enthusiastic contestants who are not entirely aware of the horror that awaits them out at the ocean.

[disclaimer]

There’s no main plot (as in: I am not planning on detailed world-building neither to save the world from kaijus, I am smaller than that), the endgame is to get Max into an active combat where he drifts with Charles and they’re in the Il Predestinato (the legendary Jaeger that has been out of service for a decade, waiting for the right co-pilots). Everything before and in between are just themes I desire to explore within the possibilities of this AU.

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I have a playlist that helps me to stay inspired, songs are not in order yet though, but as I said earlier, chapters are meant to be kind-of standalone scenes, existing in their own moods and settings.

Each chapter will have its own chosen background music linked to them. I also added many symphonic songs just to get in the mood for some combat scenes.

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[good to know]

Roles: In the case of HwtM we have active and passive characters in this story. Due to the fact that many scenes are set in drift-memories, where not everything is factual and we are in the mix of memories and feelings, some characters will only appear and speak through these moments. Therefore they fall into the passive category - they are the legends. I will talk about them in their own post but the gist of it is what I wrote above, they cannot speak for themselves so we will only see them through tilted lenses: idolised, villanised, or the mix of both.

Which also means another thing - everyone is an unreliable narrator.

Teams and Jaegers: Since this is the golden age of Jaeger engineering, we will have many-many Jaegers. So far I named only a few, but to stay true to the source material, I'm trying to make them just as cheesy yet compelling as the ones were in the movies. The constructor teams from real life are not so different from what they represent in HwtM, but I altered some of their names to fit more into the world (older names or older sounding names of some teams since the future that Pacific Rim has is basically our present. I was aiming for some retro-vibe).

Here, they are different detachments under the Pan Pacific Defense Corps, in the Jaeger Academy division. I’m planning on working with Merc, Ferrari, McLaren, Williams and of course Redbull.

Mercedes is called Benz

Ferrari is called Alfa Romeo

Red Bull is Toro Rosso

The other two stay under the same name.

Ships to look out for: it is a Lestappen-centered story (if I am really honest with you, it’s Max-centered first of all) but on the side-lines we will look into some depths of Carlando, Galex and Maxiel in…some way. Please-please keep in mind, that these won’t be fully developed romantic relationships in the fic, I’m reporting from the minds and souls of these boys, objectively perceived scenes between them will be rare and much more comrade-like.

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That is all I planned to share for starters. Feel free to ask about the process or anything really, that is related to this project, it’s my beloved child and can’t wait to share it all with others!

[spotsupstuff]

whats your opinion on the games scugs?

(monk, arti, enot, etc.)

which ones are your favorite lore wise / gameplay wise?

i don't have much of opinions! as one could... probably tell from my excessive iterator posting and extreme lack of scug posting

lore wise i will forever stick with my ultimate fav scug, Hunter. being a pre-Downpour fan has conditioned me into thinkin of the vanilla scugs the most and i'm most attached to them as well. Hunter is my fav of the three because of how unique they are compared to the other two, the amount of special lore and explanations their campaign offers to us. also i fucking love NSH endlessly so those two are a combo to open up my heart. they are actually the reason why i ended up hyperfixating on RW the first time around!

Survivor at the end of the day is the most basic scug, no matter what people say that's just a factual truth with her bein the first lil bugger peeps usually try out, but i've had a lot of fun playing with her characterization and my absolutely favorite thing to do is pair her up with Pebbles. Survivor is Five Pebbles' Cat to me. from the olden days

still up to present

even with Arti around now these two get to me emotionally more still. my old ass is cursed </3

i don't have much to say about Monk except the fact that i'm still quietly laughing about how on THEIR campaign i got more pissed than anywhere fuckin else except Gourmand i think. like this peaceful little sunshine parading around in the world and then there's me behind the screen cursing up a fuckin Storm truly embracing my inner Bitch... i had fun with that..... either way, the fact that he can see traces of Survivor in the shelters is So Fucking and the possible parallels between vanilla scug sibs n Pebs n Moons are eating my brain alive whenever i dedicate a braincell to the slugcats

the Downpour scugs are more in the bg to me and also offer a sort of like... not exactly completely 100% continuation of the game, but one of the possible canonical paths the story could've taken n i ain't gon lie i often forget or ignore some Downpour facts because of my ass bein so stuck with the vanilla game

either way, Arti's maul ability is the best thing invented for this game, Gour is Neat and i really gotta go and explore OE better with Surv cuz that place is Very interesting from the lore stand point (also that map Pebs flashes when openin the gate is SUPER cool). Spearmaster is prolly my favorite of all the scugs cuz of their mechanics n the whole uncollapsed LTTM structure is a delicious world-building, along with the first hint towards the climate, the shit with Seven Red Son-of-a-bitches and the broadcasts at large. i'm affectionate for Spear. that lil fella can climb up with the vanilla scugs i shall allow it. Riv was... the most notable things to me about them was The Rot/Pebbles condition/his last words and then their crack cocaine eyes. love headcanoning UI made 'em like that with actual crackies. the ending with Moon didn't... really hit me for some reason- but still, i'd rank the coolness of their lore on the third place because of The Rot kush

now Saint... Saint is a though nut to crack to me because of Two ✌ reasons. 1. i still haven't fucking finished playing this asshole. 2. there is a lot of room for interpretations. which is a GOOD thing, i Like when that happens, but it makes talking about the lore of the rat harder. ultimately without any brainstorming, Saint's lore is a confusing outta-nowhere mess that is so extremely far from the original ideas and themes of the vanilla game that my head spins. at first i legit thought that the lore of the thing would break what vanilla has already laid out, but thankfully i'm a person who likes to shrug so i shrugged and let it be n started figuring out my own interpretation of it all which has been a lot of fun. what i have going on for Saint in my stuff i adore all SO so so much n ofc shout out to shkiki's interpretation for being one of the coolest i've seen too

n Sain't mechanics have. made me stupidly daring with death jumps i don't know what's happening but that tongue has made me basically jump off a ledge without any preparation before that Sky Islands/Chimney karma gate n i didn't even flinch about it cuz the.. tongue... i don't fucking know what happened to me there but it was bizarre n i like bizarre in this game so i'm givin that shit 4 pats out of 5 you-tried stars. i also got fucking BULLIED BY A SCAVENGER IN FRONT OF A SHELTER FOR TEN MINUTES THATS GETTING A 5 MINUTE FROWN OUT OF GODDAMMIT THIS GAME

[jenileeborek]

Have Viral Videos Changed How We View the World?

Overall, I believe viral videos have changed how we view the world. Many times viral videos give us a glimpse into a situation we otherwise would have never seen because we weren’t there. They can show us the reality of what happened, but the interesting thing about “reality” is that it’s really all about how it’s interpreted. For instance, a video of someone dancing is factually just that, someone dancing. However, everything about the dancing, the why, the meaning behind the movements, etc. are all things that are interpreted by the audience, and that’s where “reality” gets sticky. Viral videos show truths about things that happen, but those truths can be interpreted and spun in a variety of ways depending on who you are, where you’re from, what your background is, and what your life experiences have been. 

When it comes to the viral video of the Kentucky High School Students and the Native American veteran, Nathan Phillips, I think there was a lot of bad coverage from both the right and the left, and a lot of it was for political gain instead of to address the situation. The best way to cover a story like this is to try to interview as many people as you can who were actually there, and let their words (quotes) tell the story. It’s also fine to provide facts that can be seen or heard in the video, but as a journalist, it’s not our job to interpret those things for the audience. Our job is not to convince people of something, but to provide people with information and let them come to their own conclusions. I think both the left and the right parts of mainstream media did a bad job of this when it came to this story from what I’ve seen or read. 

The coverage I agreed with the most was the Reuters article. This article stuck to facts. It described the situation without trying to interject an interpretation. Author Andrew Hay writes, “One teen in particular is seen standing in front of Phillips, staring into his face with a smile. Fellow students, many in clothing bearing President Donald Trump’s ‘MAGA’ slogan, cheered him on and chanted, ‘build that wall, build that wall,’ Phillips said.” This was descriptive of what could be seen and heard without trying to sway the audience. The article also uses quotes from official statements, quotes that people actually said as they responded to the incident, and a quote from Nathan Phillips, the Native American elder. It was factual reporting. The only way it could have been more balanced would have been to include quotes from one of the teenagers, but overall, it was good coverage. 

I also like how the Vox article covered the story. It provided context about how both sides were interpreting the situation, and it ultimately stated that it was impossible to know who got it right. The author of the article, Zack Beauchamp writes, ”But shortly after the clip went viral, to universal and at times vitriolic condemnation, a pushback began in right-of-center media. They argued that mainstream media and left-wing activists alike were being unfair to the kids. […] In response, some left-liberal commentators defended the initial coverage, pointing to the fact that at least one Covington student made a racist tomahawk chop gesture in the direction of the native protesters. […] My lukewarm take is that it’s impossible to know with certainty who has a more accurate read of the situation.” Journalists have opinions and instincts, and we might feel strongly swayed one way, but it’s our job to present both sides to the best of our ability. Even though the journalist interjected himself into the story, which is usually bad journalistic practice, he went on to try to explain how and why both sides were seeing the situation the way they were. The article provided context that didn’t sway too far one way or the other.

Viral videos can make us see the world differently, and they provide us with information we might not otherwise have, but the interpretation is key. It’s the journalist’s responsibility to take information from viral videos and report it as accurately as they would any other story without showing bias.   

[darkfalcon-z]

people in the book (the unreasonable authority figures and their toadies) call him arrogant and he occasionally played up the image of arrogance. I guess some people saw it and accepted it as truth.

He doesn't learn any sort of general lesson either in his second life either, at least not of the moral kind (for instance he obviously he discovers his own sexuality, and that's important and something that helps him live better, but that's not a moral lesson).

He learns that he misjudged LWJ, and that he can rely on LWJ, but it's factual and not normative - the lesson isn't that he should rely more on other people or that he should ask for help more, but instead it's learning that this one specific person is willing and able to help him. What WWX learns is to understand and communicate better with that one specific person. This is not a generally applicable moral lesson. There is no generally qualified "you should/ought to..." prescription.

I think people just want to fall into the comfortable, popular narratives and they don't want to accept the idea that you could do everything right and still fail and be met with doom, it's kind of just world fallacy but applied to a story - you are punished for your mistakes so WWX must had made mistakes to be met with such calamity.

Meanwhile WWX knew that he'd most certainly be met with doom for his troubles when he rescued the Wens. While the way how it played out with JZX and JLY dying was pretty much a result of actions of someone not connected to WWX and his doings at all. This specific scenario only occurred because SS cursed JZxun. Coincidentally it happened to coincide with JL's celebrations. Also if SS put the Hundredth Hole curse on JZxun a few months earlier or later, the events wouldn't transpire the way they did.

Some people in the fandom believe that WWX is so strong that he thinks he doesn't need help, or that he didn't learn to ask for help from others, and it's a moral flaw because asking for help and having support is good, right. And yeah, that's an important life skill. There are a lot of stories with "learning to rely on others" theme. But you also need to know who, how, when and with what you should ask for help. Especially when you're surrounded with people with less than good faith.

There aren't really any alternative courses of actions presented for WWX in the book. If he was making a wrong decision an alternative(s) should be established through world building or other characters pointing it out, or our hero reflecting on it after the fact. But no, he's constantly in the situation in which he can either do the thing he did or give up. If asking for help would save him you should be able to tell who should he ask. But there is not such person (JC is out because abusive and also a git who doesn't care for justice and other people). Even asking for help from LWJ (which would be rather unreasonable thing to do given that LWJ at the point was an acquaintance he doesn't really get along with) wouldn't necessarily made a difference and could potentially lead to LWJ's death as well.

So.

I was on MDZS subReddit.

(yes, my fault I know)

Someone had posted the question that Jin Guangyao had played the Song of Tormoil on Qiongqi Road 2.0 and that made Wen Ning "Beserk" and that's what led to the death of Jin Zixuan. That wasn't in the books and wondered why it was left out.

A few ppl alerted them to the fact that the Untamed had made up a plot out of whole cloth and to not watch/take take it as canon.

But then a few other ppl felt the need to comment saying it was Wei Wuxian's arrogance that led to his downfall. And that he had "lessons" he had to learn in his second life.

Admittedly it's been a hot minute since I read the book, but I do recall Wei Wuxian as being distinctly not arrogant, and that he was proved right at the end of the novel. So I'm wondering where this idea that Wei Wuxian was arrogant came from and why it's so pervasive among the fandom when so many people read the books?

(I'm not fighting with people one reddit. Let my comments get down voted into oblivion. Internet votes are more useless that wet toilet paper)

[therobotmonster]

I am about halfway through season 1 of Steven Universe and...it's not bad, per se, it just seems to be designed to create reaction GIFs from, in the same way that 80s cartoons were designed to make toys out of. So I am somewhat confused on how this became, like, the show people were talking about, for years, and left behind a drama crater the size of the Minoan Eruption. So I would like your thoughts, opinions, forbidden knowledge on this subject, any of it (saying "ask again when you've finished the show" is also okay).

Things will get much more clear as time goes on, and its hard to say in detail what I think the problem is without spoiling things, but I think I can address a problem with media literacy around kidvid, and I can use She-Ra to talk about some similar issues without spoiling SU.

There's a spectrum of how genre fiction approaches its fantastical elements, largely in how much of the events reflect the realities of the world-building, and how much they're not actually about real world things. It's the simulated reality VS the allegorical playground, and nothing is really all of one and none of the other.

Kidvid, no matter what else it is about, or how well constructed its world-building, is almost always about the the emotional realities of the target audience. This pretty much has to happen as that’s what aiming a show at children means. This is even true for the Advert-Toons of the 80s and 90s. 

The core GI-Joe fantasy, according to the showrunners, was he comforting idea that if you’re in trouble, you’ll have a big squad of friends to back you up. Cobra is “a ruthless terrorist organization determined to rule the world” but they’re actually just the jerky kids on the playground that fight about who is boss, bully other kids, and don’t share. You aren’t supposed to take the supervillainy seriously, it’s just there to be an exciting adventure... in short:

“By the time reinforcements show up, your mom should be waiting for you in the bus turnaround”

But cartoons have gotten more sophisticated since then (on average, there’s always been gems) and so have their allegories. One need only compare old and new She-Ra for that. This is, overall good, and the kids are largely going to like it and be done well by it, as they’re interacting with it on its intended level.

It’s real easy to overlook the doomsday devices or the existential nightmare of a mind control scheme when the allegory is about good play vs bad play. Nobody is going to put together a sincere think-piece about OG Shadow Weaver being a war criminal, and thus unworthy of being offered redemption in the old series. 

There will, however, be stronger feelings about Shadow Weaver from the New She-Ra, as her allegory is “abusive gas-lighting mother figure.” The show recognizes this, and so her turnaround had to come with a self-sacrifice.

Entrapta, on the other hand, is an allegorical kid, like the rest of the princesses. She represents the audience in the same way the other girls do. Her misdeeds are often seen as unforgivable acts of near-genocide, and while that is factually true, in-universe, in the story, in the emotional reality of the tale as intended for the audience, the whole planet-quake thing is representative of a screw-up. A screw up that feels so big that it seems like you’ve destroyed the world. 

For an adult audience seeing the events only as in-story actions, that’s not the kind of mistake you can come back from. But if you’re a kid that’s ever done something that caused a lot of harm you didn’t intend, you know that feeling. If you’re a kid who made a small mistake and has rejection dysphoria (something kids who relate to Entrapta might deal with) you know what that feels like. And the idea that such a mistake is recoverable is essential.

The recent shows aren’t entirely blameless. They make mistakes in how they present their allegories from time to time, because they’re human shows written by human beings. But largely, its the friction between a genre cartoon trying to address a big emotional reality and a big constructed fantasy world together, and the cross-bleed causing problems with the communication of both, at least in the case of its adult audience.

[chocobothis]

Talk Isn’t Cheap Excerpt

This is set during a session where Nico and her therapist, Peyton, are discussing what happened to her the previous January. The gist is Nico went to small town in Texas to hopefully get to interview some christian doomsday cultists that lived in a compound outside of town. Instead, she ends up abducted by them and then trapped in their self-induced t-Virus outbreak because it was supposed to be a divine test.

As a head’s up, excerpts aren’t guaranteed to make it into the final edit as is. Things could change as the story unfolds.

“He literally called me The Whore of Babylon.” It had been months but she still heard the sincerity in the man’s voice as he denounced her. Even worse was that his followers believed it wholesale. “It got shortened to Babylon after the sermon. If he’d picked The Whore I would’ve burnt the place down even sooner.”

Saying she burnt the place down was maybe a lighter interpretation of what happened. It was more like an explosion of kerosene canisters that sparked a sea of flames. There was too much percussive damage for it to be just flames. She did suppose he got his body of war with flames after all; it was just symbolic like the text he touted as fact. Not that he, or any of his followers, were around were alive by that point. 

Zoning back into the present she watched Peyton add to her notes with a neutral expression. Deciphering what the expression meant was hard, especially with Therapist Neutrality. Not that she was great at it with anyone but her closest people to begin with. It made uncertainty build in her mind that she said something wrong.

“The name likely has a liturgical meaning to him. It’s also something you understood the meaning of. But, I don’t.” She looked up from her notes bleeding warmth. “Would you feel okay explaining it to me? If not, we can easily move onto something else.”

Being asked for clarification let her relax some. There was nothing out of place that needed to be addressed. Her therapist just lacked her experiences with religion. A normal thing if she compared it to her friends' upbringings too.

“Well,” the yellow thinking putty twisted around her fingers, “we can start with her full title. She’s technically known as Mystery, Babylon the Great, the Mother of Prostitutes and Abominations of the Earth in the bible. When The Beast comes up again, the mention of the time at sea, it's said that she sits atop his head and is said to reign over the kings of earth.” The putty shifted from one hand to the other, “Also, she’s dressed up like royalty. Purple, scarlet, precious metals, pearls, jewels, the whole nine yards.”

When she was younger the idea of this happening haunted her dreams and waking thoughts. Preachers would make it sound like any day now God would rapture up the Good People and leave the rest to the tribulations. Due to her many afflictions (secret homosexuality, disobedience, taking the lord’s name in vain, etc.) she would suffer with the rest of the world. Because every time she repented  for those flaws she would be good for the shortest time then backslide again. Acceptance became the best option in the end. There was no way to fight the inevitable.

After surviving a t-Virus outbreak none of it mattered! She experienced true hell on earth and walked away from it. Nothing could stop her now that she knew her own power.

“I see.” Darker blonde brows knit themselves together, “I’m not sure how this relates to you. They abducted you from a nearby town with no beast in sight. You didn’t show up there of your own accord to herald anything.”

“That’s where you’re wrong because I did arrive with The Beast: Science.”

“What?”

A grin broke across her face. “Their leading bastard tried to claim the t-Virus was something divinely sent. I pointed out it was a virus that was changing people into zombies, not their own sin. The only reason some people didn’t change was they weren’t using a reliable transfer method.”

“I’m not sure what to say. Everything you said was factually correct but they chose not to listen.”

“Oh yeah. A factually correct woman brazenly contradicting their two witnesses and their prophecies made the The Whore of Babylon.” She paused for a moment. “I would’ve been condemned if I was a man too. That would’ve meant I was the false prophet.”

Watching her face shift from dumbfounded to outrage caused a small laugh to escape. She was a licensed therapist who studied science and had a working understanding of viruses, especially this strain. Adding in the context clues, she would even bet the woman was agnostic or not even a christian. It sounded insane without the fanatical mindset to derive joy from this being supposedly true.

“I apologize that you had to experience that. You are so strong to survive what happened.”

“Casual sexism, denial of science, and bioterrorism aren’t my favorite things. I did get acknowledged as powerful from the get-go. He was so scared that I could only be Babylon.” A beat passed. “He was scared of me at the end too but I think that was twelve gauge’s doing.”

There was a brief downward twitch of Peyton's mouth as she made several notes. That she understood to mean she was upset with the circumstances, not Nico herself. It was established early on that she coped via humorous or sarcastic comments and smiling. Not being shamed for such tactics made her feel safer sharing her feelings.

There was a sort of wild glee derived from scaring such a lesser man. His faith, delusions of grandeur, and viral immunity meant nothing in the end. All of his big plans were stopped by “a little girl” as the junior agent termed her.

“You know, it’s kinda fucked up that the only respect I got from everyone in this was weird bad wrong.” The putty oozed up between her fingers. “The delusional preacher made me out to be The Whore. Last I heard the junior FBI agent was trying to launch an investigation again because I’m a spy.”

“A spy?”

“Yeah, I formerly worked for Tricell. He must have found I went to Kijuju.” To avoid her leg bouncing she tucked both legs beneath her in the seat. “It doesn’t make any sense cause they had Albert Wesker. Why would he need me or the t-Virus? The man was literally an Umbrella Virologist and this was the basic virus.”

[ethrenisnotthehero]

@hogwartsmystory is a predator (final)

If you haven’t read the other parts of this callout, I encourage you to start here. As in both previous posts, the normal tags are not included in order to allow this to reach as many people as possible. Potential triggers are listed below, and the main content is hidden to keep sensitive individuals from being unintentionally exposed.

TW: Pedophilia, Abuse, Gaslighting, Sexual Assault, Self Harm, Suicide, NSFW Topics, Faked Illness, Faked Mental Illness, Faked Death, Victim Blaming

Originally, I intended to craft this final part to you, the reader, as an emotional appeal. To be wholly honest, there’s only so much evidence that can be utilized without either forcing Jill to relive unnecessary trauma or exposing deeply intimate or personal parts of her life. Until now, everything I’ve told you and everything I’ve shown you is what was enough to convince me when Jill first reached out to me. If you, the reader, don’t believe the factual information that’s been presented so far, then I don’t think that you will. If you, the reader, believe Jill and her story, then no further evidence is going to magically make her story more true.

However, I don’t have to. Instead, I can let the friends-- the family--that Ren created on his website speak for themselves, and show you with their own testimony just the kind of person he was. Jill wasn’t the only person that Ren hurt. Jill wasn’t even the only person Ren preyed on as a sexual predator. Many people on staff, and many people outside of it, knew Ren and grew to have what they thought was a close relationship with him. People regarded him as someone to look up to, to find comfort in, to aspire after, to lean on; people thought of him as a friend and a hero in his community.

On April 12, 2021, at 9:57 AM Greenwhich Mean Time, the current administrators of Advanced Scribes issued a statement addressing Ren’s actions and his faked death. An additional announcement was made the following day. While the announcements themselves and the replies (including moderator statements) are publicly available, I have saved a print-to-PDF versions on Google for you to browse at your leisure. 

I intentionally waited until the initial panic and outrage died out a little to let the most important statements come to light. Included in the PDF are sentiments that I personally thought were the most important sentiments; edits have been made and pages have been deleted, so you can see the current state of the conversations by visiting them directly. You can find the first discussion at https://advanced-scribes.com/viewtopic.php?f=13&t=42100#p1454263 and the second discussion at https://advanced-scribes.com/viewtopic.php?f=13&t=42107#p1454361.

Before you continue reading, please look over the statements and replies. The words of former staff former friends say more than I can ever hope to about Ren and the kind of reality that he stood for. Additionally, Jill herself has added to the conversation (username Rakuen), so you can read a bit from her perspective by looking into these announcements. After you’ve taken a look, continue below and I will sum up my final thoughts on this predator and his legacy.

Advanced Scribes • Our Statement (PDF)

Advanced Scribes • Change (PDF)

The Act of Grooming, Part 3: Entrapment

One of the reasons that predators get away with their crimes for so long is because they trap their victims. When they gain access to and successfully lure in their prey, they then engage in entrapment behavior to separate victims from other people and build reliance. The reason why kids are so prone to predation is because of how vulnerable they are. Young people just want to belong. They just want to have community, security, and affection. When they can’t get those things in their lives, they seek it out and take it where they can get it even when the situation is obviously bad. Kids can’t be held accountable for being smart because they’re kids. Jill was vulnerable. She wanted belonging and support. She fell into Ren’s lures, and he trapped her. He used his affection as a tool to solicit sexual favors and pictures from her, but never shared his face with her. She was always chasing his love, and all the while he was simultaneously preying on other individuals in the community. For God’s sake, this man had a selfie thread where underage girls would send pictures of themselves publicly on the site for him to look at, and he even intentionally disabled the website’s COPPA features.

Before Jill, there was Buttercup. Buttercup was also an admin, and she was also 13 when she met Ren. While Ren was a minor during he and Buttercup’s relationship, his behavior with her was just as predatory and Buttercup attempted to warn Jill via PM before she ended her relationship with him.

The picture he sent Buttercup wasn’t even him.

The entire time that Ren was convincing Jill that Buttercup was evil, and jealous, and a spiteful, hateful person, he was manipulating her the same way he was manipulating Jill. Ren is a predator who knows what he’s doing; he always has. He draws in his victims and makes everyone hate them so that he’s the only person they have. He makes them so desperate for his approval that they let him screw them over time and time again, and for what? Just to see his face. Think about what you read. He didn’t just do this to Jill and Buttercup. He did this to every person he cheated with or got close enough to get a grip on. Even if he didn’t sexually exploit someone, he emotionally did. An entire community of people suffered through this over and over and over again. Read the statements again. If you only read the live version, read the PDF. 

I also want you to bear in mind that everyone on staff was equally a victim as they were an enabler. It doesn’t erase their responsibility, but their roles in this story or more nuanced than “moderator bad, burn the witch!” Some of Ren’s supporters were as young or younger than Jill when they met him. The two people most notorious for standing at his side right now were both “rewarded” with a relationship with him in the fallout of his faked death.  

At some point, this man looked at his behavior and not only decided that he didn’t need to take responsibility, but that his victims daring to try and claim some kind of ownership over their own story was a personal affront to him. 

Ren is a monster of his own creation. He chose to be that monster again, and again, and again.

What makes his enablers equally to blame is when they became adults and made a conscious choice to ignore what was happening, which brings us to the next topic.

Finally... How Old Was Jill?

Despite everything I’ve said and shared so far, I still get this question in my inbox.

How old was Jill? Did she lie about her age? Is she free of guilt because she was a kid? Did he know how old she was? Was she legal in her country?

I gave you all everything I had. There were some things I just couldn’t confirm because there was no proof either way. However, all of that changed when the announcements were released. I now know exactly how old Jill was when they began dating, exactly how old she was when people knew about their relationship, and even that Ren was public with all of this information. I also know that staff knew everything, and chose to do nothing.

As you can see in the screenshots above of Buttercup’s message, it was sent on Jun 17, 2015. At that time, Jill was 14 years old. By Buttercup’s estimation, they had been dating for around a few months, which is how I was able to discern the previous exact age of 14 years old at the time they began dating.

However, Ren himself refutes that fact in a Valentine’s post for Jill. As pointed out in the “Our Statement” thread, the post that user amnesia. references includes very sexual and disgustingly graphic descriptions of Ren’s activity with her. It also says this:

As per the timestamp of this particular post (as seen below), Jill was 16 at the time. Ren, a man claiming to be twenty-five years old at the time, was proud to admit that he had been with Jill since she was 13.

You can view the full PDF of this post to see what else he said here, but please be warned that his descriptions are NSFW and absolutely disgusting. 

Warm Fuzzies Post (PDF)

No adult should talk about a kid like that. In the statements, several staff members admit that they knew that the two were dating when she was 16, and that it grossed them out. But none of them did anything. To amnesia.’s credit, they claim they tried to pursue legal action but found no viable routes. 

From the discussions and statements, we can discern five things:

1. Jill was 13 when she started dating Ren. 2. She did not lie about her age. 3. Ren did not lie about her age. 4. Ren knew how old she was. 5. Staff knew how old she was.

Jill’s feelings and her opinions on staff and their behavior are separate from my own. She does not share my beliefs here, and I need to make it very clear that what I’m saying next is entirely my own opinion.

To everyone who was staff at that time: shame on you. It’s one thing to be a victim yourself and to not understand how or when to stand up for what’s right, especially when you’re young; it’s another to become an adult and to have let something like this permeate your legacy and your community for all this time. From what I understand, none of you are completely innocent in this. Ren wasn’t secret, he was loud and proud and he didn’t give a shit what anyone thought. Everyone who was an adult then and is an adult now shares some responsibility for that. Those of you who mean your apologies, thank you, but those of you who are using this event as a stepping stone to make that website into your own personal playground know who you are. Stop. There’s an entire generation of kids between AS and CS who have lost years of their childhoods to this shit and the only right thing at this point would be to turn the site over to the police so that Ren can answer for his crimes the right way.

To everyone else: protect the people around you. People like Ren don’t think about how other people think or feel. They don’t care who gets hurt or who they trample under their feet. Look around at your community, and ask yourself if those who interact with you know that you are safe. Inevitably, someone is going to get hurt. Are you the kind of person that they can come to when it happens, or are you the kind of person who will turn your head away? 

Be the person that everyone knows they can come to, because, eventually, someone’s going to need you.

[chibivesicle]

Golden Kamuy chapter 259 & 260 - predictable events [shrugs]

Chapter 259 starts with a flashback to Abashiri Prison as Boutarou is released from solitary confinement.  Shiraishi asks him what he did to land in solitary, specifically who he beat up - and we learn it was Ueji.  This goes back to the story by Ueji about how he told Boutarou he saw his aunt, a woman that Boutarou has now confirmed never existed.   Since Ueji was messing with Boutarou, he was upset/offended enough that he had no problem killing him.

This shows us that Boutarou seems to be sensitive to joking/teasing/bullying as Shiraishi chides him for his frequent trips to solitary.

This allows for us to see a contemplative/serious facial expression on Boutarou’s face before he continues the conversation with Shiraishi who is picking his nose with his toes? 

This then allows for a wistful looking image of Shiraishi replying that he doesn’t have any family waiting for him outside of prison, and he was abandoned at a temple as a baby.  This knowledge of abandonment is how Boutarou wants to connect with Shiraishi; that they are alone in this world at the present.

This allows Boutarou to ask him if he’d return to the temple, but Shiraishi could careless; he ran away in the first place and it likely doesn’t exist as it seemed to be on its way out.  As expected, he just jokes if he had a lot of money he’d spent it on prostitutes (and implying that he’s filling his emptiness with transactional sex).

Nihei, reminds them the only thing that matters is to use the tattoo as a way to get out of prison and do whatever you want unrelated to the gold.  This is expected for the man who returned to the mountain to hunt.

They return to Boutarou’s goal, to amass a small fortune e.g. the gold and create his own kingdom.  The next page or so just focuses on how he came from a large family with 14 members and how he was the only one who didn’t die of smallpox.  He isn’t just interested in having a large family to compensate for his lost family, he goes beyond that where by becoming the king, he’ll always be remembered and not forgotten as the founder.  He is a man who wants to preserve himself not only genetically through having lots of kids but also through mythology and nation building concepts.

Shiraishi and Nihei tease him a little about his dreams which they find to be completely unrealistic which he is not amused with.  Speaking very frankly with him, Shiraishi points out that Boutarou is a lonely guy and that his dream is a reflection of his loneliness. 

This exchange is interesting to me for two reasons.  1.) This shows us that Shiraishi is an observant guy which we know but it is another instance of it in his past. 2.) He can be very blunt and forward with Boutarou.  I find him to be very assertive with Boutarou, a man who just came out of solitary for beating up another prisoner.  Yet, Shiraishi can speak like this with him and this also alludes to their current time line interactions where Boutarou respects Shiraishi and understands him well - as well as Shiraishi understands him.

This frank openness between them continues on the next page.  Shiraishi jokes back that he’s been a king - and escape king.  But Boutarou’s critique of him is a valid and honest one.

Breaking out of jail isn’t a long term plan.  Having a dream like Boutarou’s is a viable plan, that since he is unwelcome in current society, he’s like ‘fuck this - I’ll just make my own society’  He lost his home and community support and it was clearly influential on him as a child both having a family and then the loss.  So, for him creating his own special home is his driving force in his actions and reason to become involved in the hunt for the gold.

And not missing a beat, he tells Shiraishi he also needs to create his own home if he lacks one - just like him.  The level of frankness between the two of them - they clearly have more than just a passing ‘professional’ relationship.

The manga returns to the current events and Boutarou is telling Asirpa to let go of the door so that she can return to her home with Sugimoto and that they can become a family.  I get it, he knows she has a crush on him and all little girls dream of finding a man and getting married etc etc.  I don’t doubt Asirpa’s crush on Sugimoto, but she is also not the type of young teen girl who would be so simple minded.

Sugimoto is struggling to breathe in a corridor of the brewery as he falls into his rather pathetic monologuing about how pathetic he is.  Nice copy and paste of the rifle there Noda.  We saw it a few chapters ago when Ogata was eyeing Usami’s which was also Ogata’s when Vasily sniped at them.

Why do I not take Sugimoto’s whole ‘boo hoo’ bit seriously?  Because this shows us how he actually sees Asirpa and her relationship with him.  He ‘finally got her back’ she ‘got stolen away again’.  Even with the English translation, the intention is still clear, Asirpa is like an object to him. 

Read these following sentences;

1. Kiro and Ogata stole Asirpa from Sugimoto.

2. Kiro and Ogata kidnapped Asirpa from Sugimoto.

3. Kiro, and Ogata took Asirpa to Karafuto.

As an objective reader of the manga which of these is the most factually correct?  Number 3, at heart Kiro and Ogata had a plan to take Asirpa to Karafuto to learn the code and connect with Sofia.  Yet, this is not the narrative that Sugimoto tells himself or others.  He continues to go with number 1, that Kiro and Ogata stole Asirpa from him and now Boutarou stole Asirpa from him.  Asirpa is something that he possesses.  This is problematic as it shows how unequal their partnership is. 

I’d argue a more equal partnership if he used number 2.  That she was kidnapped which is a word we use to distinguish people from mere objects in English.  Is my argument 100% based on this - not quite since we are working with the translation of the original text, but ever since Karafuto, Sugimoto has acted like Asirpa is something that he and only he has privy to and completely ignores the fact that she is her own person and will exercise free will. 

Therefore, this also pokes holes in Boutarou’s reading that Asirpa will cave to the idea that if he tells her to go home and marry Sugimoto that will solve her problems.  I’m pretty confident that Asirpa does not see her relationship with Sugimoto the same way that he sees her and Shiraishi already made a point about this back before they were to meet up with Tsurumi.

Anyways, back to the action.  We don’t see if Asirpa let’s go of the door, we just see that Koito is aggressively approaching Boutarou with his sabre raised and notices that he has Asirpa.

With is luscious locks, Bouatrou is able to distract Koito and punch him with his long reach.  He goes to shoot Koito, but a shot hits his hand with the revolver and it is Tsukishima close behind.

He orders Boutarou to withdraw, and he dashes out with Asirpa and heads to a lower level where the beer flood happened.

Asirpa is still resisting trying to hold onto the railings of a staircase, making his fast escape a bit of an issue.  She also is able to raise a fundamental question - the gold was supposed to be used by the Ainu to create their own country.  Therefore, if the gold is stolen by Boutarou, she will be unable to protect her own homeland - the one he keeps telling her to go back to.

We get an image of the clear cutting of the forest in Hokkaido that almost killed her and then she thinks of the kotan where Wilk was born that is now a fox farm.  The traces of her Karafuto relatives is already gone, taken over by the Japanese for less sustainable practices. 

Boutarou sweats nervously, he doesn’t have an answer for her since this is now an example of conflict with their own dreams and goals for the gold.  However, this philosophical pause from him, allows for Koito the strike him with his sabre from behind.  Koito prepares for his second strike as Boutarou falls back into the pool of beer.

Asirpa meanwhile still clings to the stair railing as Koito is ready to strike again.

Boutarou swims off and it is unclear where he’s gone to.  Koito is impressed by Boutarou’s toughness as Asirpa coughs on the stairs.  Only then do we hear Tsukishima’s voice asking Koito where he is.  And with that I internally groan.

Me - goddammit Koito!  Why did you go and do almost the exact same thing you did on the ice floe and with Sugimoto.  Don’t rush ahead with no back up.  You just realized he’s a tough guy.  Well, at least this time he tells Tsukishima where he is and to come quickly.

He says that he secured Asirpa and doesn’t notice that Boutarou has emerged from the beer and is clearly going to attack him.  He looks like a gross beer/swamp monster, his teeth visible and eyes covered by his long hair.

By time Tsukishima arrives with his rifle at ready he sees Asirpa and only Koito’s sabre.

[facepalms]

Come on Koito, I’m rooting for you buddy, but please stop running ahead.  You are slowly getting better, but one aspect of being a leader of men is to have men to lead, not leave behind.

And the chapter ends with his heightened tension that Koito has been pulled back under the beer.

I have other deep thoughts (lol. terrible pun) about chapter 259 so lets move onto 260 which goes back a few seconds to show us what happened to Koito.  Boutarou reaches out towards Koito and he’s able to overpower him.

Asirpa tries to crawl away as Koito drops his sabre and is drug under the surface of the beer.  We all know that Boutarou is going to try to drown him as he can hold his breath longer than his victims.

Tsukishima finally reaches where Asirpa is and he flat out asks her were Koito is.  She ignores him and tries to dash away, but he grabs onto her wolf pelt cloak.  The last panel then shoes her as she draws her knife and swings at Tsukishima!

Yes! Asirpa is about to use her knife against him!  There is so much desperation in her behavior.  Koito then reaches his hand up as bubbles come to the surface, and we see Tsukishima holding Asirpa’s hand on her knife.  Tsukishima calls out for Koito and Asirpa tells him that he was pulled into the beer.

He then uses his rifle to hold her against him and still holds her hand with the knife out of the way as he tells himself that Asirpa is more important than everything else.

Koito is held underwater as his boot sticks out and we see that Boutarou is trying to strangle him with his hair (he truly has impressive hair!) as Koito begins to weaken.  We are left briefly wondering if Koito will be abandoned - but come on, we know what will happen.

Tsukishima kicks Boutarou in the head allowing Koito to sit up.  Tsukishima then shoots Boutarou, and we see some blood diffuse out into the beer.  Tsukishima is focused as he ejects the empty shell and Boutarou swims off.

He tells Koito to get out of the beer as he may return, and Koito angrily asks about Asirpa.  She’s heading out on her own, as the smoke causes her to cough her knife out and ready.  Koito is upset that Tsukishima[aaaa] let her go to save him.  This is so interesting to me as it does show that Koito felt that he is less important than Asirpa.  He was willing to potentially die which, despite his impulsive behaviors, this time he at least seems to be aware of it.

Tsukishima can’t look at him as he apologizes and Koito berates him that saving him is not a priority.  This pretty much seals the deal for these two men.  Tsukishima is Koito’s older brother and he has shown that he doesn’t have it in himself to hurt Koito for Tsurumi. 

This is at least one instance where Koito does at least own up and state that he should have followed orders.  So, kudos to more self-aware Koito, though I’m sure he’s still thankful that Tsukishima saved him.

Nikaido is randomly wandering around (clearly no longer wanting to kill Sugimoto) as he finds her.

She again aggressively goes to strike him with her knife.  Asirpa is beyond desperate - is she trying to mirror Sugimoto by just forging ahead and attacking everyone with no thought about harming them?

But just like with Tsukishima, she is immediately overpowered.  Without her poison tipped arrows, she’s at a huge disadvantage.  Emulating your crush’s fighting style isn’t going to work.

Thankfully, karma intervenes and she doesn’t harm him.  Instead, she activates his chopstick dispenser and she’s taken down by a chopstick to the forehead.

This is rather fitting since, she’s been stopped by an item she would find important, chopsticks which along with spoons facilitate one of her loves - food.  And with that she is delivered to Tsurumi who praises Nikaido.

The next page is when things get really interesting.  Nikaido is upset that Sugimoto is alive and Tsurumi blows him off.  Very rough looking Tsukishima and Koito then make it to Tsurumi to see that Asirpa has been caught.  Likely on autopilot, Tsukishima starts speaking . . . but Koito then continues and reports to him as the commanding officer of the two.

He then mid-explaination becomes incredibly uncomfortable unable to speak.  We can’t see Tsurumi’s facial expression, it would be nice to know what Koito sees as he only awkwardly ends stating they were in the brewery. 

Koito is sweating profusely, whatever Tsurumi looked like, he just realized that he should have let Tsukishima do the talking as he’s given away that his fear of speaking to Tsurumi is gone.  The fact that Tsurumi hesitates before telling him that he understands, leaves Koito in shock as Tsukishima is likely trying to not lose it with him.  Since he now knows that Koito has given away something about his changed status towards Tsurumi.  Since Tsurumi is in the realm of super smart villain, I’d guess Tsukishima knows that Tsurumi knows about how Koito learned something about his kidnapping which was what lead to his in ability to speak to him in the first place.  Recall, that when they were in Kagoshima, young Koito could speak to Tsurumi with little issue.

Tsurumi then calls for a retreat and avoid any more fights.  Apparently, he now has enough information to crack the code.  Okay Tsurumi - does this mean you can do so with Asirpa?  Since, he still doesn’t know the Ainu name that is matches with. . . .

Nikaido pouts in the background as Koito looks like he wants to fade into the background.  Tsukishima clearly doesn’t look happy either as he holds Asirpa.  I guess being Tsurumi’s right hand man means he gets to hold onto her?

He likely feels uncomfortable about things since now that Koito has let the cat out of the bag, Tsurumi will likely ask him about what happened between them.

Boutarou exits, pissed off at how he lost Asirpa but seems to be alright overall.  Of course, the next page reveals Sugimoto charging towards him to give Asirpa back. Yep, attack first, ask questions later/maybe Sugimoto.

Sugimoto pretty much has murder eyes as he thinks attacking Boutarou will solve his problem.

Now, the fact that Boutarou has survived this well, tells me that he likely has the same ‘luck’ that Sugimoto has.  He was stabbed by Sugimoto, his ear cut off, slashed by Koito, and shot twice by Tsukishima.  It is pretty damn obvious that Boutarou is to be both a foil and a twin to Sugimoto.  The only difference between them is Boutarou became a criminal, while Sugimoto became a soldier a man with a license to kill under the laws of the government while enlisted in the army.  Since leaving the army, he’s killed many people in the quest for the gold, but that doesn’t make him a ‘good guy’ because he’s a former soldier.

Sugimoto is always trying to tell others how he’s better than they are.  He’s better than the convicts because he didn’t break the law.  But, if we look at his own actions, he may have been worse than some of the convicts having killed more people than they did.  Think of Shiraishi or Nihei.  Nihei killed those hunters, but he refused to go off to war and lost his son in the Sino-Japanese war.  Therefore, we could argue that based on the number of people killed, Sugimoto is far worse than Nihei as he was almost karmic in his revenge.  Furthermore, Nihei even let himself be arrested, he killed the one man but didn’t even fight the police as his revenge was complete and he accepted his fate.

What I’m getting to is that Boutarou is the character who is going to disrupt Sugimoto and make him very uncomfortable and be unable to keep acting like he’s on the ‘right’ side of things.  Sugimoto needs to stop othering the convicts and tell himself he’s better than all of them - his own decisions led him to this just like something drove Boutarou to become a pirate and criminal.

I predict that Shiraishi will rush in to stop Sugimoto from killing Boutarou.  We still need to learn more about their past and what is the full connection between Shiraishi and Boutarou.  There is much more to learn, Shiraishi is too open and frank with him and he lets Boutarou get close to him physically and emotionally.

Hijikata’s group then regroups and decides what to do.  Of course Hijikata being the manly man that he is, states he’ll enter if required.

Kirawus then begins to panic that that no one has seen Kadokura.  Apparently shooting off the firework was too distracting for him and he didn’t keep track of his drinking buddy.  What were you doing man?  Where were you?  You aren’t very good at these sorts of things?

Kadokura apologizes to Hijikata for failing to stick with him to the end as he lie on the floor of the room with the mash pots. We see Kirawus at his most emotional as he cries out and Kantarou holds him back.

Is Kirawus a softy at heart?  I was predicting that he’d have gone in to save him but no, we get a demonstration of Kadokura’s good bad luck as the collapsing building makes a bed for him, tucks him into the futon and even gives him a beer to enjoy.

I personally like this use of extremely unlikely events surrounding him.  Sometimes, I find some of the more crass humor in GK to be not my cup of tea, but this sort of absurdist humor is good.  For a very action and emotionally charged chapter this is a good resolution of the tension. 

Kadokura is rewarded for trying his best by being rescued by the building.  Yep, he’s certainly more competent than he appears.  Is he the secret weapon of team Hijikata? 

Conclusions on these chapters.

As I stated in the title, things are pretty predictable, but rewarding for the readers at least.

Asirpa has shown that when she loses her cool, she leads to her own capture.  Separated from Sugimoto, she makes many poor decisions.  She tries to leave Koito to be killed by Boutarou.  She attacks Tsukishima and Nikaido.  She tried to use the poison arrow on Kikuta.  As a character who started out with a strong do no harm to other humans, she’s quickly sliding into grey.  I think the worst part was almost ignoring Koito.  She is hesitant to tell Tsukishima what happened and uses his pause to try to attack him.

Her capture is the worst outcome of events.  She should have listened to Kikuta and found another solution. She could have just let Boutarou escape with her and bide her time.  It seems that her reckless and aggressive behavior has backfired.  Sure, some readers will be like ‘She was just defending herself!’ but without her arrows, she is at a huge disadvantage and should know when to give up.  I’m pretty sure that this mindset comes from her being with Sugimoto.

Boutarou will team up with Sugimoto with Shiraishi as the mediator.  ‘Cause it is obvious.

Koito is freaked out that he gave away his personal growth, Nikaido is stewing in the background and Tsukishma just looks guilty.

Hijikata’s group will likely retreat with Kadokura leaving Shiraishi, Boutarou, and Sugimoto behind.  Since other than Shiraishi, the other two men are just annoyances to Hijikata.

Ogata is somewhere.  Is he going to continue his sniper battle or will he retreat?  He seemed pretty chill when he walked by Kikuta.  The smoke and fire and chaos will really mess with things, but Vasily is likely losing his cool.

Vasily, the character who had potential but currently is lame may be waiting for Ogata?  Or maybe he could pull back?

Lastly, where is Kikuta?  Does he know that Ogata shot Usami?  I can’t help but seeing him stroll into the headquarters of the 27th and be like “Hey everyone.  What did I miss?” [as he strikes a sexy pose and lights a cigarette].

It would be neat to learn if they at least chatted about something.

Well that is all for now.  Let’s see how the insanity continues to unfold.

[qqueenofhades]

How was yellow journalism at the turn of the 19th century different then the fake news and media insanity we see today? Do you know? It seems like this has been going on for a really long time.

And you would be correct, because this has in fact been going on for a very long time (indeed, much further back than the 19th century) and is essentially the basic practice of history: figuring out how to understand, vet, classify, believe, and treat the stories that humans tell about themselves. Or as that musical that came out the other day put it: “you have no control who lives, who dies, who tells your story.” We’re all just telling stories about things constantly, and we all want people to believe our story and treat it as the best version. Some of these stories are more fictional (and more harmful) than others, but it’s been going on for as long as there have been people.

(Or: “A Brief History of Fake News” follows below. If it doesn’t make sense, blame the fact that I had to rewrite half of it after Tumblr ate it.)

Globalization and the 24-hour news media has made it possible for “fake news” narratives to become transnational: in other words, no matter where you are in the world or what country you’re originally from, you can use some of the same content, techniques, arguments, or beliefs. For example, coronavirus deniers, no matter where they are in the world, can use the same stable of arguments: it’s fake, it’s a Chinese lab conspiracy, it’s a political stunt, it’s not that bad, you shouldn’t wear a mask, etc. They are drawing from the same essential pool of content and replicating the same themes in their particular contexts. Obviously, everyone has instant access to these narratives now and we are seeing the large-scale and damaging effects, because they can be amplified to a degree unheard-of in human history thanks to social media, TV, phones, etc, but also: it’s what humans have been doing since, well, forever.

A caveat I often have to give undergraduate students, when introducing them to medieval chronicle sources, is that they’re subjective -- that is, they’re more interested in promoting one individual, kingdom, religious viewpoint, version of events, etc, rather than aiming for an inclusive and “real” version of how things went by taking into account the experiences and arguments of all sides. This is obviously disingenuous, because it suggests that modern historians don’t do this, that they just objectively report “real facts” and there is no human bias or agenda at work in producing the result. This reflects the influence of Leopold von Ranke, a 19th-century German historian who is often viewed as the founder of the modern critical source-based historiographical method. He was a proponent of the idea that historians had to “describe the past as it actually happened,” i.e. they had to select the correct facts and build an objective narrative so that people could discover the One True Version of reality. Of course, you may realize that you.... can’t actually do that.

Historians still have to select which facts they report, how a “fact” is constructed to start with, what methodology they use, what conclusions they draw, what they focus on, what moral lessons or overall takeaways they present for their audience, etc. This reflects the 19th century’s effort to make history similar to hard science: they liked the idea that there was one single methodology that would reveal an empirically provable single ideal, that there was no human agency or bias that would influence this narrative, and the facts would magically assemble themselves into one central version that everyone would agree upon. Except this still isn’t and has never been the way it works. Historians, as human agents, mediate and manage and influence the facts they use and the conclusions they draw from sources, and it’s our job to figure out which ones are more valid and which ones are not. It’s a system of collective memory, and as I’ve said before, that collective memory is always particularly susceptible to what people (especially the rich and powerful people, who install the version of history that the rest of us learn) want to remember. This rarely includes their flaws, or things that show them to be wrong, or any challenge to their status.

Prior to the invention of film/TV/audiovisual methods in the 19th century (and since they didn’t become commercial or widespread until the 20th), everything we know about human history before that, we know because someone wrote it down. In the Western tradition, the ancient Greek historians Herodotus and Thucydides are often viewed as the “fathers” of history, because they deliberately assembled a curation of (allegedly) empirical facts in a constructed narrative with a self-stated historiographical purpose. They also make use of what, in fancy academic-speak, we might call the “topos of authority.” Every single historian has been aware that they have to provide some way for their reader to independently verify their content, or decide to believe what they’re saying against a competing version. In the olden days, they often did this by self-certifying: “I swear that everything I write here is true/I heard only from wise and trustworthy people/I spoke to an eyewitness of these events/I read a book by such-and-such authority.” But just because they SAY these things doesn’t mean they’re true, and no modern historian can take this at face value: they can’t just say, “well, my source said they were telling the truth, so that’s good enough for me.” They have to supplant with other accounts, they have to perform textual criticism and close reading, they have to find other pieces of evidence to compare. Because in a sense, all of history might be fake news. We just have to figure out which parts those are, and sometimes that’s not even the point, because it’s impossible.

For example: take the sixth-century Byzantine court historian Procopius, who wrote about the reigns of the Eastern Roman Emperor Justinian (r. 527-65) and Empress Theodora (r. 527-48). All of his official accounts of them are largely positive and flattering. But Procopius is probably best known for a work called the Secret History, where he rips into them as horrible awful people, relates lurid sexual scandals (especially about Theodora), dishes on all the bad things they did behind the scenes, so on and etc. This means that historians have been arguing ever since about which versions of Justinian and Theodora -- indeed, Procopius’s own versions of them -- we’re supposed to believe. If you want to read the Secret History, which you can do at the link above and which you should because it has amusing chapter titles like “Proving That Justinian and Theodora Were Actually Fiends in Human Form” and “How Justinian Killed a Trillion People,” you’ll come across this unrelentingly negative depiction of them, and... what? Is this a (somewhat) accurate account of the darker side of Justinian and Theodora’s bad behavior, written by an embittered Procopius after he fell out of royal favor? Is it just a total hatchet job? Was it written purely in case there was a palace coup, so Procopius could hand it to the new emperor and be like “see, I totally didn’t like those losers either, you can rely on me” and didn’t represent his actual views on the imperial couple at all? You can  already see the problem if the idea is, a la von Ranke, to prove “what really happened.” Almost nobody treats the Secret History as a straightforward factual document, but they also disagree about how truthful it is, why, for what reasons, and whether it is, in fact, even a History per se.

To return (belatedly) to the idea of newspapers and yellow journalism particularly. I would say that there was no more significant event in all of human history (well, maybe a few, but not many) than the invention of the printing press in the mid-fifteenth century. It instantly and permanently transformed the way humans acquired, stored, recalled, and learned knowledge, and it lasted (and is still lasting) even in the face of smartphones and internet. Once books were no longer rare, labor-intensive, and expensive, their use exploded, it became standard practice to publish your research (by the sixteenth century, this was already happening), to learn from a book, to use other books in constructing your knowledge, and thus to encounter these narratives. The other architecture of a culture of public and general literacy developed along with it, until it was the primary medium in which all people, not just the rich and educated, learned about things. Newspapers and books and pamphlets and other printed material intensely drove the revolutions of the eighteenth century, both in America and in Europe. And obviously, these weren’t trying to tell “both sides of the story.” It became standard practice to publish your manifestos, your papers, your essays and arguments, all your supporting documents, and you were trying to convince people to your side for concrete political reasons.

So by the time you get to the 19th century, you’ve had literal CENTURIES of people deciding what they want to believe, what’s beneficial for them to believe, their viewpoint on the world, etc. Except as we discussed above re: our friend Leopold von Ranke, the 19th century develops the idea of “scientific objectivity.” Of course, in the social sciences, this often gets applied (pause for sighing) to support the idea that there is a real racial hierarchy, that western European white men are the best not because they said so, but because it’s science, it’s provable, it’s not just an opinion, It Is Trufax. Newspapers, books, and other printed material are widely available to everyone, and the 19th century is making claims to universal truth that can be discovered and applied in all disciplines, but which is just a continuation of the same subjective storytelling as before, now elevated to the status of Unimpeachable Truth. Yellow journalism isn’t really that different from what humans have always done in crafting a narrative that supports their purposes and the story they want to tell (or that they think will sell papers, because people have an endless appetite for secrets, scandals, and drama, especially if they think there is a conspiracy, real or fake, to hide it from them). They just have different tools for doing it. Of course in the 21st century, we now have journalistic ethics and a set of standards and codes of conduct for how you’re supposed to write these things, and we have respected publications that do all that, but we also still have tabloid media, when the relationship with the facts is... tenuous, at best. These institutions and tendencies never go away. They just evolve.

I realize that this was a long and rather dull ramble about the origins of historiography, but the point is this: “fake news” is literally as old as humanity and history itself, and humans have always been predisposed to select and believe the narrative that personally benefits them, fits with their ideology, makes sense of events in the way they feel is most compelling, and so on. It’s just now in the hyperconnected 21st century, “fake news” can go instantly around the globe and be exposed to anyone with an internet connection. This is not helped, as I talked about in my “death of expertise” ask, by a public forum where everybody’s contributions supposedly have to be treated “equally,” in the name of “fairness,” no matter whether someone knows anything about the topic or not. So the impact of this tendency to believe whatever the hell anyone wants has been magnified far past what has ever been the case in history before, because no matter what someone wrote or believed in the pre-internet era, they didn’t have the multi-million-exponential ability to reach absolutely everybody at once. Even print books have to be printed, circulated, purchased, read, etc, and that takes time and money, rather than just instantly having it appear on your smartphone. And we are obviously seeing the real-world consequences of that as a result.

[turnupfortragedy]

Operation MOVE : an essay on Philadelphia PD racism & Leftover Crack

SAME TEXT AS IN PHOTO SET JUST DIFFERENT FORMAT

A simple bass line plays for a few seconds, violins and soft sounding strings follow in; creating a build up to deliberately deep drumming then an electric guitar plays and he screams. “Philadelphia, 78’, shut down MOVE by police state,” sings Stza, the lead singer of an American punk rock band from New York. Scott “Stza” Sturgeon was just a kid when at the time Philadelphia Mayor Frank Rizzo ordered the black liberation group MOVE to vacate their home. 9 members of MOVE were imprisoned for the death of James Ramp, a cop, who was shot in the back of the neck. Mayor Rizzo in an archive of NY Times on August 8th 1978 “There is no question that MOVE fired the first shot.” Years later, in 1985 the Philadelphia PD dropped two bombs on MOVE; catching 65 row homes on fire and killing eleven people. Today Black Lives Matter is protesting the murder of George Floyd, a black man, killed by Derek Chauvin, a cop, that knelt on Floyd’s neck. Seems like things have not changed much since then.

My professor mentioned MOVE in class while we all talked about George Floyd, the BLM protests in Philly, and society's need to keep black people oppressed. That conversation made me remember this song that I really love: Operation MOVE by Lëftover Crack. I listened to it a lot with one of my best friends Lauren; they introduced me to the song on one of our many drives to I-don’t-know-where during our time together at a college in Philadelphia county. They like a lot of really awesome music that I had never heard of because I led a pretty sheltered life until then. 

There is this awesome memory I have of us always, almost constantly, playing this song after they showed it to me. We would be blasting the song so loud the car’s speakers were probably blown out from it. Together we'd punch the roof of their car from the inside with all the windows down; forcing the world to listen though they probably didn't understand the lyrics from all that screaming. Maybe I didn't either or not entirely anyway but I felt the music and what it meant. I never looked the lyrics up. I was too busy disassociating and following Lauren’s lead; Even when I was having a good time my mind was fogged with feelings and off somewhere, I’m not sure where. “Until the movement was incinerated” we would shout with the song, our fists red from hitting the metal roof.

MOVE was created in 1972, they fought for the rights of all living things, animals and humans alike. The group held demonstrations against police brutality and protested zoos. In my research I've found they follow the anarcho primitivism philosophy. “Friendly fire kills officer dead, the MOVE 9 are framed up instead” the song states the situation that occurred between MOVE and P.P.D. Most people believe friendly fire killed the officer in 1978 but our justice system incarcerated the 9 MOVE members for the killing of that cop. There is not much in the way of lyrics when speaking of the length of the written word for the song; but every bit powerful and packed with meaning. The tracking is 10 minutes long and has a wide range of musical genres working with the theme; the tragedy of how our country treats anyone against systemic oppression of minorities and people of color. Those instrumentals in the beginning hype you up for what is about to happen when the lyrics open up with that first incident. 

Twenty seconds of the song between the lyrics in the beginning and the next set is more drumming and electric guitar that gives me goosebumps knowing what is coming. 

The bombing of their commune or so called "compound", which I would argue both have a negative connotation, happened on May 13th in 1985. Philadelphia PD Lieutenant Frank Powell dropped two one pound bombs from above their home in a helicopter with the blessing of Police Commissioner George Sambor. "Sights trained on exits, the police wait. A firing squad for those who fight to escape" Lëftover Crack sings. You can clearly hear the anger that the  band has for the destruction of everything the band believes in, just like MOVE does. "MOVE fought against exploitation, the state's injustice, and their oppression. For these crimes that the city pigs created, The Africa's were incinerated."

 The lyrics are depressing but they aren't something dark the band created from their minds, this is factual; it is something our government allowed to happen. You can feel what those victims must have felt and how enraged the band is about the destruction of people and rights to their beliefs. Maybe because I agree with "f--k the police" that there cannot be peace without justice, that regardless of the individuals "ACAB." The world's opinions get to me and often I wonder am I biased, is the need for this fight, a revolution all in my head? Will my undying love for all people and their right to live life sway me into thinking the song is good? 

The lyrics are good because they are written well; they put together the story of those who fought with their lives for something they believed in. I feel an uproar in my soul and the urge to fight when I listen to this song. I find myself trying to scream the lyrics like Stza does, I don't sound like him all punk and metal but I sound infuriated. The song transports me, imagining myself at the time this occurred, imagining the horrific moments the MOVE folks faced in their own home. A good writer does this, they create the scene and you can swear you see it there in front of you with your very own eyes. 

I can picture the surrounding houses on fire, MOVE trying to escape. Their thoughts, awful ones, probably about dying; fighting for what is right then being met with gunfire by those sworn to protect and serve. I was young when I heard the band and mostly listening to the sounds of his screaming and the instrumentals, barely making out all his words in that song. But even though I couldn't make out everything he was screaming the feeling I could understand, these chills and this fire that already burned inside igniting more and more with each listen. 

Now I know the lyrics, I've listened to many of songs with screamers; my ear is trained to understand the singers. Now I know skills to use to try and keep me from disassociating so I'm more present instead of scared, off somewhere in my mind. Now I know the history about MOVE,  the Africa's, and how the world saw them through the eyes of the media: a cult, a terrorist group, cop killers. They, we, are people against the world looking for truth and justice. 

Reports are conflicting but I do not put it past our government to have acted like they wanted to stop the fire and instead said LET IT BURN. Destroying their city in order to further oppress those against law enforcement overpowering the people they take an oath to protect, regardless of race and status. My professor mentioned MOVE and how her area of the city remembers. A lot of us don't know because in our world it's reported on, then gone like a trend. These injustices happens again and again, the cycle seems to never end. People forget they put the past out of their mind or move on quickly by deeming it a tragic accident. 

"Sentenced to be incinerated, Sentenced to be incinerated" are Scott's last lyrics sung. When the song is coming to its end violins fade out the harsh metal theme for a few seconds. The song picks back up with the full works drums and all, the music sounds like frustration. Fading into another silence and a large piano piece with an acoustic guitar is played. The vocalist can be heard shouting vaguely, quietly ,and randomly, the music sounds like sad peacefulness. It is the year 2020 and I think, I hope these things don't have to occur anymore… that these songs don't need to be made. If they are made it is only to tell us the past not show us our future. I am waiting for that uplifting moment of music to lead this oppression to its end, not more death.

[keichanz]

Move Your Body || pt. 1

Hi, friends. First off, I want to say that I really wanted to finish and post this before Sunday, but obviously that didn’t happen, so I decided to go ahead and post the first part of my new AU because...well. Just continue reading. :) 

Secondly, some of you may know this, some may not, but today, the 28th, is also my birthday. Yep, I turned the big 3-0 today, and lemme tell you I am not thrilled about it lmao. 

Some of you may also know that recently I created a Ko-fi and that I’ve been struggling a bit financially wise. 

This fic is a great, big, fat thank you to all of you who have supported me through Ko-fi and also for those of you who didn’t, but were there for me anyway with your encouragement, kind words, and emotional support. I can’t begin to tell how how much it meant to me that you guys didn’t hesitate to donate, and I am not lying when I say it literally brought me to tears. I cried from your generosity, and I cannot thank you enough for helping me out. This month has been a bit rougher than most, and I am eternally grateful to every single one of you. I wanted to give you something in return, and I thought, why not post this AU early. It’s small, and I know a lot of you are looking forward to the next chapter of You Rescued Me (it’s in the works!), but I hope this will suffice.

Having all of you as friends, as followers and readers, is the best birthday gift I could have ever asked for. I’m so damn blessed and grateful to have all of you in my life and i hope you all know that I appreciate and love you all from the very bottom of my heart.

So thank you again for being there for me. You can all bet your asses I’ll be the first one to jump on the chance in helping in any way that I can if ever one of you need support. Because you have mine, guaranteed. 

Note: I know fuck all about choreography or being a producer, so for the sake of this story, pretend everything in factual and accurate lmao.

Inuyasha was lounging in his office and puffing idly on a cigarette while poring over some of his old routines in hopes of sparking some inspiration when he heard the music.

Normally he wouldn’t care and would just ignore it, the probability that it was one of his instructors coming in for the midnight lessons his studio offered more than likely. Less likely it was one of their students wanting to get in some late night practice, but still possible. They needed express permission from himself in order to do that, and since neither Sango nor Miroku had run it by him to get that authorization, Inuyasha doubted any of his instructors’ students actually had the balls to sneak in without consent. So that ruled that out.

Inuyasha frowned and looked up from his desk, pinching the cig between two fingers and exhaling. He cocked his head, ears twitching as he tried to determine where exactly it was coming from, and when he did his eyebrows shot up in surprise. The music was not coming from the first or second floor, suggesting it was either one of his friends or a student, but instead the soft notes of a vaguely familiar hip-hop song were drifting up from directly below him.

The Taisho Studios building was made up of five floors, with the ground floor being the first. That one was Sango’s studio where she held her lessons, teaching those interested in how to dance in various styles and offering kick-boxing lessons as well. Miroku instructed his clientele on the second floor, where he offered various unique exercise regimes that was basically Zumba but with his own personal flare.

The third floor, however, was reserved for his use only, the top dog’s private studio where only a select few ever saw the inside, and those usually consisted of celebrities looking for the best of the best for their music videos. Inuyasha instructed those lessons himself and charged top dollar for his services. Everyone knew it was off limits and he kept the door locked. The fourth floor consisted of his spacious office and gym, also available to Miroku and Sango whenever they wanted since they weren’t just his instructors, but also his valued friends. It was conveniently located right below his top floor condo so whenever Inuyasha was working late, he could just drag his ass upstairs and bam, he was home.

Wondering who had the balls big enough to use his private studio without his permission, Inuyasha abandoned his work and strode to the door, cracking it open and sticking his head out into the hall. The music got louder and Inuyasha surmised whoever it was must have left the doors wide open so as far as he was concerned that was an open invitation to go see who it was and then kick them the hell out.

Glancing over his shoulder and eyeing the desk littered with paperwork and his open lap top, Inuyasha snorted, shrugged, and promptly decided he needed a break. His deadline wasn’t for another month and he wasn’t being very productive tonight anyway so Sesshomaru can just kiss his merrily dancing ass and deal with it.

Sticking his cig back between his lips, Inuyasha forwent using the elevator and instead wandered casually down the hall, going into the stairwell and then abruptly vaulting over the railing and dropping to the third floor. The entrance to his studio was right across from the elevators and staircase, so when he opened the door he found himself staring directly into it—and the person brave enough to utilize the spacious room without his knowledge.

For the second time that night Inuyasha’s eyebrows rose in surprise and without even being aware of it he padded across the hallway. His footsteps were masked by the music coming out of the Bluetooth speakers and they were facing away from them. Curious despite himself, Inuyasha leaned against the doorjamb and crossed his arms, golden eyes silent observing as a little smirk quirked his lips.

Kagome released an undignified squawk as she stumbled forward for the nth time that night, the toe of her shoe catching on the hardwood floor and throwing off her balance. Windmilling her arms, she managed to catch herself before she face-planted onto the hard floor and resisted the urge to stamp her foot like a child and scream her vexation into the empty studio.

Dammit, why couldn’t she get this? Sango had made it look so easy when she’d shown her earlier, and after a couple of tries with her instructor’s guidance, Kagome had been able to more or less command her body to execute a smooth hip roll without looking like a twerking imbecile. Now for some reason she was unable to smoothly transition into the dance move she wanted without nearly falling over and needless to say she was getting frustrated.

Grumbling under her breath and wishing she had her friend’s tall and slender physique, Kagome stomped over to the table where her phone sat and paused the song in order to once more bring up the choreography. She hit play for the hundredth time, studied closely the two men and one woman flawlessly busting out move after move without fault and she promptly scowled before tossing her phone back on the table with a rough exhale.

Closing her eyes and tilting her head back, Kagome frowned and allowed her mind to wander, vaguely noting the faint smell of cigarette smoke that had been present earlier had suddenly gotten stronger. What was she even doing, anyway? She’d never been the most coordinated of people and was oftentimes called a klutz. She wasn’t graceful and she wasn’t even athletic, so really, this was a waste of time. She knew if she carried this out she would only end up making a fool of herself so why go through the trouble?

“Because,” Kagome answered herself with a deep sigh, shoulders slumping in defeat, “I’m too damn stubborn and my stupid pride won’t let me quit.”

“You make it sound like that’s a bad thing.”

Kagome gasped and spun around, hand over her pounding heart and blue eyes wide with a combination of surprise and embarrassment. Her gaze landed on the lounging figure in the doorway, casually puffing away on a cigarette as he regarded her silently.

Well, that explains the odor of cigarette smoke, Kagome mused while aloud she said, “Jeez, you scared me. I didn’t know anyone else was here.” She paused and then frowned when his words registered. “What?”

The man said nothing and just continued to stare at her, cig tucked between his lips, expression unreadable. He was...damn, he was attractive, Kagome secretly admitted, feeling a blush creep up to color her cheeks a soft pink. Donned in loose fitting black jeans that rode low on his hips and a plain white t-shirt that contoured very nicely to a toned chest and stomach, a backwards ballcap was pulled on top of a head of short, shaggy silver hair. His eyes looked to be a stunning golden color and when he lifted a hand to pinch the cig between two fingers, Kagome noticed two things: the talons tipping each finger, instantly giving away what he was, and the black tattoo starting at his wrist that crawled up his arm to disappear into his shirt sleeve.

Kagome’s breath hitched and her heart skipped a beat. No wonder he’s so attractive, she thought dazedly, glimpsing a flash of fang as he parted his lips and tendrils of smoke drifted up toward the ceiling. He’s not human.

What was that saying? The most beautiful things in life are often the most dangerous, or something to that effect. Kagome was inclined to believe it, suddenly feeling very flushed and where was her water bottle?

“Tenacity and pride,” the man continued, studying the fag between his fingers with an air of boredom. “By themselves they don’t do much good and more often than not just get you into trouble, but put them together and success is pretty much guaranteed in the performing arts industry.

“So I guess you could say,” he said and took a drag of his cig, “they’re requirements in our world. Stipulations if you wanna get anywhere in life.”

Kagome shook her head. “Um, our world?” she repeated, utterly lost.

The look he gave her was deadpan. “Dancing, babydoll.”

Ocean eyes widened in understanding and her flush darkened as she sheepishly averted her gaze, fidgeting where she stood.

“Oh, I, um,” Kagome faltered, clearing her throat and for some reason suddenly feeling like a child in front of a grown up about to confess to being naughty. “I’m...not a dancer,” she finished lamely and winced, twisting the fabric of her shirt with her fingers in a nervous habit.

Inuyasha raised a dubious brow at that declaration. “Alright,” he allowed, nodding slowly. “So suppose you tell me what the hell you’re doing in my private studio then, playing music and dressed like that?”

Kagome blanched and jerked her head up to stare at him with wide-eyes. “P-private?” she squeaked and looked so terrified Inuyasha briefly regretted telling her that. “Oh god—I’m so sorry, I didn’t know! Er, my dance instructor Sango told me I could use her studio tonight to get some practice in, but when I got here it was locked and I...found this one and it was unlocked...”

Looking very uncomfortable with a red face and shifting nervously from foot to foot, Inuyasha felt his face soften slightly as he watched her and he released a quiet sigh around the cig in his mouth. It had been unlocked since he was in here an hour before trying out some moves for the new routine he was working on and he’d planned on locking back up before he went upstairs.

So ultimately it was his fault since he’d left the doors unlocked, and as such it wouldn’t exactly be fair to be angry at her. It also appeared she didn’t know who he was, which admittedly was a bit surprising. Everyone knew everything above the second floor was off limits unless given permission and it led him to believe she was a fairly new student of Sango’s.

“I’m sorry,” she apologized again and gave an awkward half-bow, biting down on her lip as she finally met his eyes. “I’ll, um, leave if you want me to. I really didn’t know...”

Inuyasha considered her for a moment and then shook his head. What was the point if she was already here? “Nah, don’t worry about,” he muttered and took another drag on his cig, watching as she visibly relaxed and offered him a timid smile.

Cute little thing, ain’t she? he mused idly and racked his gaze down her lithe form. She says she’s not a dancer, but she certainly had the body to be one. That damn shirt hid most of his view, but from what he could see of her legs—

“Are you an instructor?” she asked him, tilting her head. “I haven’t seen you around before.”

Inuyasha fought against the urge to grin. She really didn’t have any idea who he was.

“You can say that,” he finally said at length, finding himself not wanting to give away his identity just yet. This could prove to be interesting, and who knows; maybe it would spark some inspiration and he’d finally be able to get some results so Sesshomaru would stop jumping down his damn throat with his demands and deadlines.

“Still waiting for an explanation, babydoll,” Inuyasha reminded her and took another drag. Technically there was no smoking allowed in his building, but he owned it and could do whatever the hell he damn well pleased, so whatever.

She blinked. “For what?”

He cocked a brow at her and carelessly flicked some ashes onto the floor; maintenance would clean it up tomorrow morning anyway. “Why you’re here. You said you ain’t a dancer, which is all fine and dandy, but you got me curious.” He shrugged and let the cig dangle from his lips as he crossed his arms again.

Kagome winced and then wrinkled her nose, her face warming up at the true reason for her being here.

“It’s stupid...” she mumbled, staring down at the floor and hunching her shoulders a little.

Inuyasha frowned. “I doubt that,” he told her and had an insane, unexplainable urge to cross the room and wrap her up in his arms. She just looked so small and fragile and he wanted to...protect her? What the—from what?

Kagome looked like she didn’t believe but she took a breath and told him anyway, figuring he had a right to know since this was his private studio. Or at least that’s what he told her, however Kagome figured he was telling the truth because why else would he be here?

“It really is stupid,” she repeated with a sigh and a fleeting grimace crossed her features. “My college was holding an event the other day out in the courtyard in front of the student activities building, and since my friends and I had nothing better to do, we decided to go and see what it was all about. Turns out it was a DDR competition and they were using a giant white board as a screen and extension cords to hook the game up. Anyone was welcome to play a round and enter some friendly competition, and even though I’ve never played before in my life, I gave it a try.”

She paused and crossed her arms, her nose scrunching slightly in a little pout that he found completely too adorable. “Of course I failed miserably at it, but I laughed it off because it was just for fun anyway. But then this extremely rude and universally not liked rich bitch laughed way too hard about it and snarked that I would never win any contest with those moves.”

Inuyasha cocked a brow at her, his tone disbelieving as he drawled, “You’re here because of a game of DDR?”

She scowled at him and had the good grace to blush. “No. If you let me continue, I was going to say the purpose of the entire event was to promote an actual dance competition where you have to come up with a new dance to a song of your choosing. It has to be at least one minute long, an entry can have up to four people, and all of the moves have to be completely original.”

“Sounds fair,” he commented.

Kagome nodded. “So after humiliating me in front of dozens of people, this bitch flips her hair, pops her chest out so everybody notices her fake boobs, and loudly declares that it’ll be a piece of cake winning the competition since ‘nobody worth while’ has entered. And oh my god, I got so heated, and just to spite the cocky bitch, I stared her right in the eye as I entered despite the fact that I cannot dance worth a good goddamn.

“And so now,” Kagome shrugged and held up her hands helplessly. “Here I am, sneaking into private studios at midnight and pretending like I know what the hell I’m doing.” She offered a wavering smile, her face still red but her blue eyes were bright.

Inuyasha nodded again and whistled low. “I see,” he murmured. “Good on you though, for not letting her cow you like that. I take it this isn’t the first time she’s given you grief.”

Kagome sighed and pinched her nose. “Since I started college three years ago. We’re in the same major.”

“Which is?”

“Nursing.”

He looked surprised. “So this bitch walking about like her shit don’t stink wants a career that dedicates all of her time taking care of and thinking about someone else other than herself? Is that what you’re telling me?”

“I know,” Kagome said drolly, her expression one of dry exasperation. “Trust me, the irony is not lost on me.”

“Damn,” Inuyasha muttered in bewilderment, shaking his head.

Kagome grunted in agreement, wrinkling her nose.

He bit back a chuckle. “Alright. Now lemme ask you this, babydoll,” Inuyasha suddenly said, flicking more ashes onto the floor and when her inquisitive blue eyes met his, he continued. “You said earlier that your stubbornness and pride won’t let you back down. Is that still true?”

Kagome blinked in confusion, brow furrowing slightly. “What...?”

“Is it?”

Amber eyes bore into her own and Kagome shivered. “I...yes,” she answered, barely above a whisper.

He nodded. “One more thing.” Pinching the nearly gone cancer stick between two fingers and lowering it from his lips, Inuyasha looked directly into her eyes and exhaled smoothly.

“Do you want it?”

Kagome opened her mouth. Closed it. Looked adorably confused. “Do I...do I want what?”

Inuyasha was silent for a moment as he studied her, and then he answered roughly, “You have to want it, babydoll. Spite is a great motivator, but it’s not enough if you want real results. If you don’t want it bad enough, if this is all just a game to get back at some snotty bitch with fake tits, then you’re wasting your time and might as well leave right now. I don’t give my time to quitters.”

Kagome gasped and shook her head, her heart pounding at what he was implying. “What do you—”

“Do you want it?”

The intensity in which he’d asked that single question gave Kagome pause and suddenly she knew exactly what he was referring to, what he wanted to hear her say. And it was amazing because she did want it; she wanted it with a desperation that surprised her because when she’d changed into her workout clothes and left her apartment at 11:30 at night to practice dancing in an empty studio, she hadn’t truly thought that she would get anywhere and thought for sure she’d end up giving in and backing down.

But then suddenly this man appears out of nowhere, starts asking her questions about pride and tenacity, somehow wheedles out the real reason why she’s here and her ambition roars back to life. No, it wasn’t just spite that made her agree. True, she wanted to prove that bitch wrong, but she wanted to prove to herself even more that she could do this and do it so well she’d leave everyone wondering if she was the same clumsy Kagome that tripped over air and fell up the stairs.

“Yes,” Kagome answered honestly, squaring her shoulders and straightening her back. Nodding, she repeated herself, her voice strong and ringing with resolve.

“Yes, I want it. I want it.”

Inuyasha’s eyes flashed and he nodded once. “Good.”

Then with that he started toward her, his strides purposeful and Kagome watched him as he approached the table behind her and stabbed out his cigarette in the ash tray she’d failed to notice before now.

Then he turned to her, crossed his arms, and leaned back against the table.

“Let’s see it.”

Kagome balked. “What?”

“Show me what you got, babydoll. Dance for me.”

Kagome blushed and swallowed thickly, her mouth suddenly feeling dry as her heart kick started in her chest.

“Why?” she whispered although she suspected she already knew why.

Instead of answering, Inuyasha grabbed her phone and woke up the screen, ignoring her protest. “What song?”

Kagome made a half-hearted swipe for her mobile and huffed in aggravation when he held it away from her. “Song?”

He cut his eyes to her with an annoyed frown. “What song are you going to be dancing to?”

She blinked. “Oh. Well, I was thinking maybe Girls like You by Maroon—”

“No.”

“...Excuse me?”

“No,” Inuyasha repeated and scrolled through the songs on her music app. “It’s not a bad choice, but it’s too...soft for what you need. If you wanna win this competition you’re gonna want something with a real shock factor, something totally unexpected that’ll knock their fucking socks off and have men and women alike panting and wanting a piece of that.”

Kagome made a face and muttered, “I don’t really care if I win this thing. I just want Kamlyn to eat her words and maybe get her to stop harassing me every goddamned day.”

Inuyasha shrugged. “Then consider it a bonus because when I’m through with you it’ll be guaranteed. Now,” he said and browsed her music again with a contemplative frown. “From what you’ve told me about this Kamlyn wench, it’s safe to assume her dance is not going to be kid friendly. That means you’re gonna hafta knock her performance outta the park with something sexier.”

Kagome blanched. Sexier? Oh god. She was anything but sexy and she really didn’t think she liked where he was going with this...

“You’re taste in music sucks,” he commented idly when still he saw nothing after a few more minutes of scrolling. She must have had over five hundred songs on the damn thing and yet none of the titles he glimpsed were appropriate for what he had in mind. He uselessly scrolled for another minute, gave up, and decided he’d have better luck with YouTube. They’d have to discuss what song she’ll use at a later time, but for now he’d just use a random bop with a suitable rhythm and he searched for the first one that came to mind.

“It does not,” Kagome fired back petulantly and crossed her arms again. “If you’re gonna insult my music then you can just—”

Inuyasha tapped the screen and seconds later the rest of her words were abruptly cut off by a steady, thrumming beat pumping from the speakers around them. The music ebbed and flowed, giving off a suggestive and sultry energy that can often be found in strip clubs. The lyrics followed shortly thereafter, soft, sexy, and alluring.

Kagome’s heart stopped and for the second time in as many minutes the color drained from her face. Oh no. Nooooo no no no no he couldn’t possibly want her to dance to…to something like that?

As the crooning lyrics abruptly turned into obscene moaning sounds, Inuyasha set her phone on the table and crossed his arms before nodding his head behind her, a wordless gesture to get on with it.

Oh good lord he did. Fervently Kagome shook her head, her eyes pleading with him to choose another song while inwardly cursing every perverted songwriter that decided it would be a good idea to create something like that. It was too embarrassing, too…too suggestive, something she wouldn’t even do in the privacy of her own room, let alone in front of a very attractive man!

Inuyasha frowned at her adamant refusal and explained, “I need to see what I’m working with here, babydoll, and in order for me to do that, you need to show me. This is just to give me an idea on where to start, so just pretend I’m not here and let the music take over. Close your eyes if you need to and let everything else just fade away.”

Blushing furiously, Kagome bit her lip and hesitated, dropping her gaze to stare down at the floor and clutched the hem of her shirt, wringing the fabric in an obviously nervous gesture. She knew without a doubt that even if she did close her eyes she would still be aware of his presence. Even now she could feel the weight of his gaze, staring at her unwaveringly and it made her stomach do not so unpleasant flip-flops as her heart accelerated in her chest.

Didn’t he realize what he was asking of her? Kagome had never considered herself sexy; hell, she wouldn’t even call herself pretty. She was average. She didn’t turn heads, never attracted attention, and she could count on one hand the number of times a guy had flirted with her. (Once, and it was her ex-boyfriend.) Kagome was awkward, clumsy; she knew she was no prize and her confidence level was drastically low.

Simply put, she wasn’t Kamlyn, who, despite being completely fake, was considered one of the hottest people on campus and she wasn’t afraid to flaunt what she had. How could he possibly ask her to dance to a song like this when she had nothing to flaunt?

When the song transitioned into the first chorus and all she did was continue to stand there looking very uncomfortable while avoiding his gaze, it became glaringly obvious that her hesitation went beyond mere shyness so with a sigh Inuyasha swiped up her phone and hit pause. Her shoulders hunched as the music was abruptly cut off and she peeked up at him, biting her lip and looking like she was about to be scolded.

His expression softened, however the confusion was evident on his face as he regarded her thoughtfully. Was this truly so difficult for her?

“Okay,” he murmured. “What’s the matter?” The patient softness of his voice surprised even him and judging by the look that crossed her face, it surprised her too.

She recovered quickly, though, and once more ducked her head, shifting her weight and feeling a flush of embarrassment color her face a soft pink. She really didn’t want to confide in a virtual stranger all of her self-image issues, even if he was trying to help her. Maybe if she gave him just a brief display of her awkwardness and incoordination he would see for himself that the song definitely wasn’t the best choice.

Dearly hoping she wouldn’t regret this, Kagome swallowed thickly and said just loud enough for him to hear, “Um, s-start the song over, please.”

Inuyasha frowned at her unexpected request and he eyed her for a moment, expression contemplative, before wordlessly reaching over to wake up the screen and did as he bade him. A single tap of a clawed finger and the song was starting over, the beginning notes echoing throughout the studio.

Steeling herself, unable to stop her nervous shaking, Kagome took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and started moving.

Right off the bat Inuyasha knew with absolute certainty, or at the least very strongly suspected just why exactly she was so adamant about not using this particular song. It was heavy with sex appeal, the kind that made women grind and gyrate their hips as they sought to turn on every single man nearby, and this girl, this young woman had absolutely zero.

Her movements were stiff and awkward as she attempted to move her body to the music provided like she had no idea where to put her limbs. The look of intense concentration on her face suggested that might very well be the case and it was clear she’d never before used her hips or ass as a method of seduction. They didn’t roll so much as jerk and her knees weren’t at all relaxed but locked which accounted for all the stumbling she was doing. Of course with that damn shirt in the way it was hard to accurately guess, but altogether it was glaringly obvious how out of her element she was, her discomfort not only painted clear as day on her face, but in the stiff way she moved.

After another stumble that nearly sent her sprawling onto the floor, Inuyasha couldn’t take it anymore and he put a stop to her painful performance by pressing pause and he didn’t miss the unmistakable look of relief that crossed her features.  Then she righted herself, sighed, and looked positively defeated as she stared at him, as if she already knew he was going to declare her a lost cause and change his mind about helping her.

If only she knew that watching her sorely lacking performance had the complete opposite and only solidified his decision to help her.

And besides, he always liked a challenge. It was only a bonus that he could use her routine – with her permission, of course – as new material and Sesshomaru would stop hounding him about the damn deadline in a month.

Which reminded him… “What’s your name, babydoll?” he asked as he scrolled through her songs and selected one that would be good practice for what he had in mind.

Kagome frowned at the unexpected question but answered, “Kagome.”

“How long you got until the competition, Kagome?” Setting her phone back on the table, Inuyasha took off his hat and carelessly tossed it onto the table as well before promptly reaching behind him and yanking off his shirt.

Kagome sputtered as her face flamed, eyes going very wide to suddenly be faced with a very attractive, bare chested man. Good god, but this man was a silver-haired Adonis, all sculpted muscle, tanned skin, and those ears were too damn cute. What really grabbed her attention, however, was the wicked looking tribal tattoo wrapped around his left arm that she was finally able to see in its entirety. The intricate design extended all the way up to his shoulder and upon closer inspection it appeared to be a dragon with the head on his left pectoral. It was beautifully done and Kagome was slightly jealous. She’d always wanted a tattoo...

“I—I—uh, a little over a month?” she said, completely distracted by the complete magnificently tattooed male...yumminess that he presented.

Without her permission her eyes tracked the line of silver hair that disappeared into his low-slung jeans. Her heart beat a little faster as the blush on her face intensified and oh my god, he had another tattoo in the delectable V of his right hip bone, what looked to be jagged red claw marks half-concealed by his jeans.

Kagome thought she might faint.

Inuyasha snorted in amusement. This was too perfect. “Good. Take it off.”

That jolted her right out of her avid admiration of his solid abs and she blinked, darting her gaze this with a puzzled frown. “What?”

He withheld a smirk. Checking him out, was she? Then it was only fair he got to do the same.

“Shirt. Off. Now. Unless you’d like me to do it for you?” He cocked a brow at her and had to grin when she squeaked and took a step away from him. “C’mon, we ain’t got all night.”

“But—what—” Kagome stuttered, utterly perplexed and she crossed her arms over her stomach as if that would be any defense to him divesting her of her shirt. “Why?” she finally managed.

Inuyasha rolled his eyes and explained, “Because it’ll only get in the way and I need to be able to see.”

She eyed him suspiciously and narrowed her eyes. “See what?”

He scowled then, getting impatient. “To see why you move like an eighty year old woman with Parkinson’s, now would you stop questioning me and just take the fucking thing off already? You’re wearing a bra anyway and it ain’t like I’m asking so I can ogle your tits or some shit. Christ,” he muttered and rubbed his forehead. She certainly wasn’t kidding when she said she was stubborn.

Kagome flushed. Truth was, she had assumed part of the reason he was asking was so he could stare at her chest but now she felt ridiculous for even suspecting it. She didn’t even think he was that type of man anyway, she was just...nervous. She liked her oversized shirts; they were her security blanket, a shield to protect herself from anyone looking too closely. If she took it off, despite having a sports bra on underneath, she would feel too vulnerable, exposed in a way that had nothing to do with lack of clothing.

Here he was, standing in all his beautiful half-naked glory, sculpted abs, a hard chest, and arms thick with muscle and strength. Meanwhile here she was, plain, frumpy Kagome, with her small chest, soft stomach, and general awkwardness. Standing next to him, she felt like the ugly duckling that got hit with every branch on her way down the ugly tree and he expected her to reveal all of her could-stand-to-lose-a-few-pounds body to him?

Hell no.

Once more avoiding his gaze and shifting from foot to foot, Kagome’s hands clutched the dark gray fabric of her shirt and she shook her head, biting down on her lip.

“Um—I, uh, c-can’t I continue wearing it? Please?”

Even she could hear how pathetic she sounded pleading about something so trivial but she couldn’t help it. She was already feeling out of sorts with the song he was using; keeping her shirt was her last defense. Didn’t he know that?

Scowling, Inuyasha opened his mouth to once again demand she remove it, but then she peeked up at him from under dark, sooty lashes and when his eyes connected with hers realization hit him so hard his eyes widened and his mouth dropped. Kagome winced and immediately ducked her face again, flushing darkly.

...Well, fuck. It made so much sense now. Granted, this whole endeavor just became ten times more challenging, but it was too late to back out now. Besides, he couldn’t in good conscience allow her to continue thinking about herself like that when it was so obviously untrue.

Muttering a curse under his breath that had Kagome daring another glimpse at him, Inuyasha promptly stepped in close to her and ignored her quiet gasp of surprise before knocking her arms out of the way and hooking a claw in the collar of her shirt. Too late Kagome realized what he was going to do and before she could utter any sort of protest Inuyasha swiftly drew his hand down and sliced the garment right down the middle. Stunned and blushing up a storm, Kagome could do nothing as he yanked the shirt the rest of the way off and tossed it carelessly behind him onto the table.

While Kagome stood there with her arms over her chest and berated him for ruining her shirt, Inuyasha finally got his first good look at her and damn did he like what he saw. She was fucking perfect with a flat, trim belly that tapered into shapely hips and sender thighs encased in tight spandex shorts. Her skin was smooth and creamy and his hands suddenly itched to roam over her figure but he kept them to himself; he figured ignoring her wishes and destroying her only cover was pushing it enough as it was and he needed her to trust him.

From what he could see of her chest behind her arms, her breasts were small but that didn’t matter; a push-up bra or corset could do fucking wonders and before his mind had the chance to travel in a decidedly less than pure direction, Inuyasha said four words that promptly drew Kagome’s tirade to a screeching halt.

“Kagome, you’re fucking perfect,” he told her sincerely and perhaps a tad bit impatiently but she refused to hear it, adamantly shaking her head and denying his claim. Frowning he grabbed her hands kept her from hiding herself, tightening his grip when she tried to pull away.

“No, listen to me, I’m serious. You have absolutely fucking nothing to be ashamed of, Kagome. You’re stunning with a fucking rocking body and I’ll say it every goddamn day if I have to until you believe me, but what I see before me is nothing short of beautiful.”

When still she wouldn’t look at him and kept shaking her head, Inuyasha growled and gently grasped her chin in his fingers, tilting her face up and her sharp gasp went ignored as he continued, “Confidence is a key factor in this sort of thing, babydoll. You move the way you do because you don’t have any; you think you’re not sexy and that’s sorta the whole point I’m going for here. If you wanna do this, you’re gonna have to start believing you can and the first step is being confident and comfortable in your own skin.”

Inuyasha suddenly sighed and some of the vehemence left his tone as he said a bit more gently, “Look, you have the physical requirements for this; you’re fit and I’m willing to bet you’re flexible as hell. There’s really nothing stopping you but you and if you really do want this like you told me, then you need to stop this embarrassed shit and either tell me to fuck off and go home, or look me in the eye and fucking commit.  I don’t half-ass things, Kagome; I’m gonna work you into the fucking ground until I think you’re ready and if you think you can’t do this, tell me now. Like I told you before: I don’t give my time to quitters.”

Kagome flinched and he grit his teeth but didn’t take his words back. He wanted to help her, he truly did, but she needed to help him by trusting what he said and doing what was necessary. He may have been a bit too harsh, but he couldn’t help it. Most of the people he dealt with on a daily basis were pretentious celebrities that liked to throw around large amounts of cash just because they could and it was required of him to be a hardass to get through their self-absorbed bubble of fame in order to get to the nitty gritty of things. Most of the time it was received well, but occasionally he’d get the bored up and coming rock star that got too comfortable in their lifestyle and became nothing more than a spoiled brat and they ended up bowing out before any of the real work began. It was a giant pain in the ass and a huge waste of his valuable time, which was why he was so strict on who he decided to take on as a client.

He was one of the most respected, successful, and coveted producers in the whole fucking country. He was allowed to be choosy, goddammit.

Gently sweeping his thumb across her chin, Inuyasha waited to see what she would do, not afraid to admit to himself that he hoped she wouldn’t back out. He didn’t understand his strong desire to help her, not to mention his very strange urge to protect her at all costs, but he didn’t dwell on it. Kagome was different than any of the other woman he’d ever met; she was soft, innocent, untouched by the harsh realities of the world and despite having some evident self-image issues, he suspected that she was utterly breathtaking when she flourished and he wanted so badly to witness that. He wanted to be there when she shined, when she made that bitch Kam-whatever eat her words and that was when Inuyasha decided he was going to do something he’d never done before in any of his client’s routines. 

Of course he needed to get her to agree to it first, but he was confident he could wear her down even if she did disagree at first. She may be stubborn, but he was as bullheaded as they come and was oftentimes told he didn’t know when to give up. It was one of his best qualities that contributed to his popularity among producers and he wasn’t afraid to let anyone know.

Now if only Kagome had half that confidence...

Inuyasha was already cooking up a few ideas while he waited for her to make her decision when finally, finally, Kagome lifted her head, those beautiful ocean eyes locked with his, and the cautious hope in them was nearly his undoing. Without even realizing it his expression softened and he gave her that last push she needed to make her decision.

“Trust me, Kagome,” he murmured and daringly brushed his thumb across her bottom lip, watching the flush spread across her cheeks and hearing her breath hitch in her throat. “Just trust me and I promise you won’t regret it. Alright?”

Kagome’s eyes widened and she studied him quietly, her eyes searching his face, his eyes for what he hadn’t a clue, but apparently after another moment she found it because the corners of her mouth lifted up into a small, timid smile, she sucked in a breath, and then she gave a barely perceptible nod.

“Okay,” she breathed and officially sealed her fate.

Inuyasha grinned. “That’s my girl,” he said and had the insane urge to kiss her forehead. “Now let’s get this show on the road; it’s late, I have a meeting at 9 am, and I want to at least go over the basics before we call it a night. Sound good?”

Hardly believing she was actually going through with this, Kagome closed her eyes and nodded again. She could trust him. She could trust...wait a minute, what even was his name?

“What’s your name?” she blurted out as he restarted their practice song and golden eyes cut her way at the question.

He gave her a crooked grin and his eyes flashed wickedly. “It’s Inuyasha, babydoll, but I’m more commonly known as Sha.” He cocked a brow at her and watched Kagome’s face go from blank as she attempted to place his name to instant recognition, eyes going wide and mouth dropping in astonishment.

“Y...you’re...” she breathed, apparently having trouble articulating her thoughts, and Inuyasha chuckled. Usually it annoyed him when someone was so starstruck they could barely speak, but strangely with Kagome he found it completely endearing.

“Yeah,” he affirmed, raising his brows. “I admit, I’m a little surprised you didn’t recognize me. The ears usually give it away.” He wiggled them for emphasis and he caught her quiet giggle.

Her smile was equal parts sheepish and apologetic. “I don’t really watch TV and I’m not really invested in the entertainment world, either.” She shrugged.

Inuyasha stared at her. God, she was so pure he felt as if just standing next to her would somehow taint or blemish her. He’d done some shady shit in his past, and he was by no means innocent now, and for the first time in his life he felt inadequate and quite suddenly wanted to take a shower, as if that would help wash off his sins and dirty deeds.

“Well,” he drawled and reached back to wake her phone’s screen. “After tonight, babydoll, consider yourself invested.”

He hit play and the first notes of their practice song drifted out of the speakers.

Instantly Kagome recognized it and she frowned. “I thought we weren’t using this song.”

The silver-haired choreography shrugged and grabbed her hand to tug her a little closer. “We’re not, but it’s got a good enough melody to use as a practice song. We’ll start with something slow first that you’re comfortable with and then work our way up to faster paced songs that are similar to what you’re gonna use for the competition. Sound good?”

Releasing a steadying breath, Kagome briefly closed her eyes and then nodded, resolute. “Let’s do this.”

He smirked. “That’s what I like to hear. And now, lesson one.”

Without warning Inuyasha spun her around so he back was facing his chest and used his foot to nudge her legs a little farther apart. He slid his hand around to splay across her lower stomach and he felt her immediately tense up. Expected, which was why this was a good place to start.

“When I was watching you dance earlier,” he began and placed his other hand on her hip. “I noticed you were thinking way too hard on how to move, where to put your feet and all that. You need to relax. Let your body think for you, let it move on its own. You kept stumbling and tripping earlier because you were so tense and you were so busy trying to command your body to move the way you wanted it to that you ended up looking like a robot.”

He leaned his face down so his mouth hovered next to her ear. “So breathe, Kagome,” he said and smiled when she released the breath he was sure she wasn’t even aware she’d been holding. “Dancing is supposed to be fun. It ain’t rocket science.”

Reminding herself that she had to trust him – he did this for a living, after all – Kagome did as she was instructed and took a few moments to just breathe, closing her eyes and trying to clear her mind. She was highly aware of his hands on her hip and stomach but surprisingly enough the not so unpleasant sensation was easy to get used to. Her lips lifted into a slight smile as she slowly relaxed, listening to the music, allowing the smooth beat to ease the tension from her muscles.

“Thatta girl,” Inuyasha murmured behind her and squeezed her hip once in approval. “Alright, now listen to the beat...move with it...don’t think about it, Kagome, listen to the song and let it command you, not the other way around.”

“I am,” Kagome huffed, her brow furrowed slightly as she attempted to sync her hips with the beat of the music.

“No, you’re not,” Inuyasha insisted and closed the slight gap between them, stepping in close to press his chest flush against her back and yanking her ass into the cradle of his hips. She gasped, but he ignored it as he said, “You hear it, but you’re not listening.”

With his hands and his own body, Inuyasha moved her the way he wanted her to, guiding her hips from side to side as his own did the same, allowing her to feel and not merely hear what he was saying.

“See,” Inuyasha rumbled in her ear and Kagome shivered, willing her heartbeat to calm and the fierce blush on her face to recede as. “Don’t just listen with your ears, listen with your body. As cheesy as that sounds,” he added and smiled when she released a breathy laugh, gratified when she finally allowed herself to be taken by the beat and let the music command her.

With her eyes closed and so in tune with the melody wrapping around her body, letting it dictate her movements, Kagome was barely aware of Inuyasha stepping back, though he kept a light grip on her hips. She didn’t even understand how, but suddenly it was so easy to move with the rhythm of the beat and soon she lost herself to the notes of one of her favorite songs, smiling now as she danced without a care. It wasn’t a chore, it wasn’t something she felt she had to do at all costs, but a deep desire she hadn’t even been aware she’d harbored.

Standing a few feet away from her, arms crossed and a satisfied grin on his face, Inuyasha watched with half-lidded eyes as she danced like no one was watching, losing herself to the music and even singing along to the lyrics. It was obvious she’d forgotten he was even there, but that was okay. That’s what he’d wanted, for her to forget everything and just have fun, if only for a few minutes.

All right, so he could admit, this wasn’t really a lesson so much as a warm up. He’d caught a few brief glimpses of it earlier when he’d told her to show him what she had, but watching her now, taking in the graceful movements of her body and the smooth way she transitioned each step, it was obvious to him that Kagome was a natural. She knew what to do, or at least her body did; she just needed some fine-tuning, is all, an upgrade to an already seamlessly working piece of machinery. They still had a long way to go of course, but perhaps it wouldn’t be as challenging as he’d originally thought.

He was suddenly really looking forward to the next month or so.

The song ended a moment later and Kagome stood there, legs akimbo, chest popped and shoulders back and her face was beautifully flushed with a bright smile spread across her face. He was gratified to see she didn’t even seem to be that much out of breath either, a testament to her strength and agility, another thing that would make this easier for both of them.

The sound of clapping drew her attention and Kagome turned her head to find Inuyasha standing a little ways a way, a satisfied grin on his face as he clapped, obviously pleased with her performance. Suddenly giddy Kagome giggled and gave an exaggerated bow, sweeping her arms around behind her and she heard his amused chuckle.

“That was great, babydoll,” he praised and ambled toward her. “You’re a fucking natural and with a little guidance from yours truly, we’ll have both men and women drooling after you and you’re gonna show up that bitch Kam-what’s-her-face so good she won’t be able to show her face on campus for fucking weeks.”

With big blue eyes glinting with cautious hope, Kagome peered up at him with a hesitant smile as butterflies abruptly took flight in her belly.

“You really think so?” she asked, for the first time daring to believe that she could do something better than Kamlyn, daring to believe that she could be better, period.

Inuyasha stopped in front of her and smirked arrogantly.

“I know so. Alright, now I’m gonna show you a few basic moves and I want you to follow my lead...”

Part 2