#mainline builds the joke around the situation

[multiisketch]

Multi's Ramblings: Movies VS Boom

Watching Sonic 2 again after a heavy dosage of Sonic Boom really made me realize how many jokes from the movie feel like they were pulled right out of Boom's bag of gags. The whole scene in the bar with the "sweet" old lady knitting to reveal a skull, a talking decapitated fish head, and a dance off with a guy who has a tattoo of himself on his chest...? That's Boom baby! Even in characterization you can see it. I don't feel like Game Sonic, even in his classic days, would trash a house, even if he knew he could readily clean it up as movie Sonic did to Tom and Maddie. Boom Sonic definitely would and did.

Now, I'm not saying they are one-to-one. We do see signs Movie Sonic growing when he reacts to Knuckles similarly trashing the house in the Knuckles TV Show. And the movies are absolutely more intense and thematic than Boom had any desire to be, but I do feel like it has had an influence on these films beyond the blue arms to the point that maybe Paramount decided to use Boom's more childish antics to inform a younger Sonic for his growth into the Sonic we know from the games. And maybe putting myself into the "I'm watching Sonic Boom" mindset for the movies has helped me appreciate the characterization more than a "I'm hoping to see mainline Sonic" mindset. :)

[thezanyarthropleura]

March 20 (1 of 2: 1968)

(This post covers Gamera vs. Viras, look out for a separate Gamera: Super Monster post later today)

Happy 55 years to Gamera vs. Viras, the fourth film in the Showa era, and happy 43 years to Gamera: Super Monster, the eighth and final film in the Showa era. Two movies that use extensive stock footage, but that use it to very different effect. Also two films that feature alien spaceships, and scenes where Gamera is mind-controlled by said alien spaceships.

There are actually quite a few women in Gamera vs. Viras’s adult cast, it’s just that we don’t actually see much of the adult cast. This film begins the tradition of featuring two child protagonists, one Japanese and one American, something that would apply to all of the final four mainline Showa films. As would the fact that the film pretty much centers around them and them alone. We do get a sort-of notable amount of screentime and relevance for Masao’s older sister Mariko, who wears a neat-looking compass/tracking device/communicator wristwatch her brother invented so they both can wear one and keep track of each other, and that’s about as much character depth as you’re going to get out of this movie.

The film does give a somewhat clever justification for the two children of different nationalities to feature in the plot. It takes place around what is apparently the Boy Scouts equivalent of joint US-Japan navy games, from which the two kids go missing and through some Chekhov’s shenanigans end up having a cute underwater adventure in a submarine where Gamera swims alongside. Then the aliens show up, stick Gamera under a big dome, search through his memories because they can do that, and decide to exploit his kindness toward children, using a teleporter to abduct the two kids from the Boy Scouts camp. Because apparently the Virasians have no concept of professional courtesy.

Since this film was made in 1968, this is seen as a distinctly worse situation than the one the kids were already in, and everyone immediately panics. Mariko seeks comfort from who I can only assume are the other members of her lesbian polycule, and Gamera goes off to destroy a bunch of buildings he’s already destroyed (because the aliens put a mind control device on his neck, not because he’s being driven mad at having to choose between leaving the kids with the aliens and returning them to the Boy Scouts, although I have to imagine that is also happening).

Gamera vs. Viras, as previously mentioned, is the sole mainline Showa film that hasn’t been tackled by Mystery Science Theater 3000, having shared that distinction with Gamera vs. Jiger until that film was included in season 13 of the show just last year. And while I’d like to see that status change just as much as any fan of both franchises, it’s easy to see why this film would be challenging to riff on, at least in its complete form. Unlike Gamera: Super Monster’s cut-down, fast-paced fights, the stock footage in this film is presented pretty much as-is, with entire sections of combat and destruction scenes from previous films taking up a significant chunk of the screentime. There are really only so many stock footage jokes one can make when you’re being subjected to ten or twenty full minutes of it depending on the version, with only a brief narration when it changes from the slow, drawn-out Barugon fight to the slow, drawn-out Gyaos fight.

That said, the special effects for Viras are remarkably good, seeming to foreshadow the incredible work done in bringing Legion to life almost three decades later. While at some points in the film, particularly the scene where the leader Viras is absorbing the others, it’s obvious the supposedly squidlike creature has two human legs poorly disguised among its tentacles, the fight scene itself does a lot to hide this and make Viras look truly like the space squid he’s meant to be. This is interspersed with scenes that use full-tentacled props to represent the alien, with very little to take one out of the illusion once the combat truly gets going. Additionally, Gamera’s fight with a Virasian spaceship in the opening moments of the film is both creative and fun, somewhat making up for there only being one proper monster battle this time around.

I kinda like this movie. It takes the formula in new and interesting directions, and while long stretches of the film will bore most viewers (and bash you over the head with so many Chekhov’s guns, skills, and pranks you’ll be wishing for a deus ex machina just for variety’s sake), it’s really only the few obvious issues I’ve mentioned that bring it down. The majority of the film is no less an earnest, fun and wacky adventure than any of the others that try to be, and practically every moment of new Gamera footage is a moment well worth looking forward to. That said, it’s probably either my least favorite Gamera film, or very close to the bottom of the list. I guess I do ship Mariko with the other two women she shares almost every scene with, but as you might already know, today’s other film does the exact same thing, but better.

Enjoy this movie with pull-n-peel twizzlers, cut into 2-3-inch pieces and started from both ends. And if you can, slice up some apples and make one of those crustless space octagon sandwiches, they look delicious (even if they, apparently, were not).

[aion-rsa]

Godzilla Singular Point: The Weird History of Jet Jaguar

https://ift.tt/3jvPBwC

The latest take on Toho’s iconic, building-crushing lizard comes in the form of Godzilla Singular Point, an anime series now available in dubbed form on Netflix. Taking place in the not-too-distant future, this reimagining of the King of Monsters involves a group of human characters becoming aware – through rather bizarre ways – of a coming apocalyptic event. Now the only thing that can save them is a behemoth out to punch monsters and look out for the little guy.

No, not Godzilla. He’s actually the apocalyptic event. No, our hero is none other than Jet Jaguar.

Yes, it’s finally time for Jet Jaguar to get his due.

A concept nearly 50 years old at this point, Jet Jaguar is one of those characters who was initially doomed to fail, but lives on due to nostalgia and the golden notion of, “I realize most people hated that thing from my childhood, but I bet I could make it good!” At best, he was a rad addition to the Godzilla mythos. At worst, he was a dumb idea from a dumb movie. For the most part, he’s remembered as something goofy that gets laughed at, despite having some genuine earnestness.

Jet Jaguar was created from both a fan contest and a corporate game of telephone. Back in 1972, to jump on the bandwagon of tokusatsu giant superhero/robot shows, Toho asked fans to design their own superhero design. The winner was a half-man/half-bird robot with a lengthy neck resembling a stack of rings named Red Alone. The concept was turned into a full-on rubber costume, but they changed the color scheme, which upset the young winner. They later decided to just scrap the whole thing, keep the color scheme, and make their own new design. And so, Jet Jaguar was born.

The superhero made an entire one movie appearance in 1973’s Godzilla vs. Megalon. As the urban legend goes, this was initially intended to be a standalone Jet Jaguar movie that the studio just didn’t have faith in towards the end and they hastily threw in Godzilla and recurring Godzilla villain Gigan. While the claim is dubious and unproven, it certainly is easy to understand where the allegations come from.

Everything about the movie feels rushed. As the last-minute replacement for another Godzilla film that didn’t pan out, filming took several weeks and production was a mere six months. Even the Godzilla costume was whipped up in record time. As for the story, outside of the intro, the preexisting elements (Godzilla and Gigan) aren’t thrown in until about 2/3 into the movie. Up until that point, it feels like a Jet Jaguar vs. Megalon movie with the production team hitting the panic button.

The plot of Godzilla vs. Megalon is that a scientist Goro Ibuki is working on a robot called Jet Jaguar, along with his little brother Rokuro and his best friend Hiroshi. They get wrapped up in a plot involving a group of beings from Atlantis-But-Not-Really, who are annoyed at all the nuclear bomb tests going on in their neck of the woods. They steal Jet Jaguar and use him to guide their insect god Megalon to different cities for the sake of smashing them up and punishing humanity.

Goro and friends get their hands on Jet Jaguar’s controls and use him to lead Godzilla to where Megalon is. Then the Seatopians call some alien friends for a solid and have them send in Gigan. Jet Jaguar is able to break away from all control and becomes fully sentient, as well as revealing the ability to turn into a giant. It becomes a big tag team battle, mostly remembered for Godzilla doing the silliest dropkick you’ve ever seen, followed by a second one for good measure.

The villains escape, Jet Jaguar and Godzilla shake hands, they go their separate ways, and Jet Jaguar reunites with the humans heroes after shrinking back down. He gets his own snazzy theme song to close things out.

In Japan, the movie wasn’t all that successful. As the thirteenth title in the Godzilla series, it brought in the worst returns yet. Between public burnout and the movie’s lack of quality, it just wasn’t grabbing people. That said, it came out at just the right time in the United States. Released in 1976, it came out months before the anticipated King Kong remake. The American movie poster for the movie even bit on the King Kong poster by featuring Godzilla and Megalon duking it out while each standing on a different Twin Tower, even though the movie at no point took place in the States.

A year later, the movie would be cut down into 48 minutes so they could broadcast it on NBC in prime time, across an hour with commercials. The only reason I mention this at all is because it was hosted by John Belushi wearing a Godzilla costume, which is sadly somewhere in the abyss of golden lost media.

Getting back to Jet Jaguar – the topic of this article – I feel the need to bring up Germany’s handling of the movie’s translation. Rather than call him “Jet Jaguar,” they referred to him as “King Kong.” I mean…sure, why not. Even weirder, when the next two movies introduced fellow giant robot MechaGodzilla, Germany once again referred to the robot as “King Kong.” Guys, I know what you’re going for here, but it doesn’t work that way.

Anyway, Godzilla vs. MechaGodzilla and Terror of MechaGodzilla followed Godzilla vs. Megalon and closed off the classic Showa Era of Godzilla movies. Not only did Japan need to rest Godzilla as a concept for nearly a decade, but this also meant that whenever Godzilla would come back, it was going to be some kind of reboot or new “only the first movie counts” installment. Jet Jaguar was never high on the list to be brought back, especially since MechaGodzilla completely overshadowed him.

He would at least get a little more exposure in 1991 when Godzilla vs. Megalon was featured in the second season of Mystery Science Theater 3000. While much of the episode is spent making fun of one of the Seatopians for looking like Oscar Wilde, they toss plenty of jokes at Jet Jaguar. Most memorably, they “translate” Jet Jaguar’s ending theme, which notes that his mother never loved him and he looks a lot like Jack Nicholson.

Due to rights issues, Godzilla vs. Megalon is one of the few MST3K episodes that is no longer legally available for viewing. This does make the original MST3K Collection Volume 10 box set (which included Godzilla vs. Megalon as one of the four movies) a collector’s item, as it was later discontinued and rereleased with The Giant Gila Monster taking its spot.

A stranger use of Jet Jaguar comes in the form of Certain Distant Suns’ music video for “Bitter” in 1995. While there’s not much of a narrative outside of the band playing, footage of Godzilla vs. Megalon being shown, and a few shots of guys walking around in Megalon and Jet Jaguar costumes, I really insist you give the video a look due to the ending. It certainly goes in a direction I wasn’t expecting.

In 1997, Jet Jaguar made his next official appearance in another frankly bizarre spectacle. In Japan, a series called Godzilla Island appeared on TV in three-minute increments. While it only lasted a year, there were a whopping 256 episodes, meaning almost 13 hours of footage. If you’ve never heard of Godzilla Island, you might be thinking, “Wow, almost 13 hours of Godzilla stuff? Why isn’t this more well known?”

Well, it probably has a lot to do with the fact that instead of using guys in rubber suits, the kaiju action was done with action figures. Yikes.

Not only did Jet Jaguar show up during these adventures, but they gave him the 90s superhero action figure treatment. Much like how they released as many figures of Batman as possible for different crime-fighting scenarios, Godzilla Island gave us Silver Jet Jaguar, Medical Jet Jaguar, and even Fireman Jet Jaguar. Collect them all!

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Movies

Godzilla vs. Kong Writer Talks About Spending 8 Years in the MonsterVerse

By Don Kaye

Movies

Godzilla vs. Kong Director and Writer Talk Future of The MonsterVerse

By Don Kaye

In the early 2000s, Godzilla: Destroy All Monsters Melee was released for the GameCube and Xbox under the Atari brand. It was a fighting game featuring various characters from Godzilla lore and though Atari wanted to include Jet Jaguar, Toho refused. Still, at least Megalon was included in the game. There would be two sequels in the form of Godzilla: Save the Earth and Godzilla: Unleashed. FINALLY, Jet Jaguar was playable, because if there’s anything you can count on, it’s scraping the bottom of the barrel when you’re working on multiple installments of a nostalgic who’s who project.

He’d also return in 2014’s Godzilla game for PlayStation 3 and 4. The producer of the game didn’t even plan on putting him in there, but he saw that the programmers already were working on him and just shrugged it off. There was a special trick to summoning Jet Jaguar as a boss character. By ending up in three different Godzilla vs. Jet Jaguar scenarios and winning all three times, you would then unlock a special cutscene of the two shaking hands while a confused military woman would wonder about their history.

Around the mid-2010s, IDW Publishing was all about releasing a bunch of comics with the Godzilla license. Their mainline series was Godzilla: Rulers of the Earth, which went on for 25 issues. Early on, Jet Jaguar appeared out of nowhere during a fight between Godzilla and the team of Gigan and Orga. In human size, Jet Jaguar flew into Orga’s mouth, then expanded into giant size, causing the beast to explode. Especially awesome was that it came with the cliffhanger text, “Next: PUNCH! PUNCH! PUNCH!” a reference to Jet Jaguar’s theme song from the movie.

Jet Jaguar showed up regularly in the series, coming off as Godzilla’s designated driver friend and handler. What I mean is that he seemed to be out to protect Godzilla, but that meant having to keep his violent ally on task (ie. pointing out that Gigan was nearby to stop Godzilla from attacking Jet Jaguar) and throwing punches when the situation absolutely called for it.

This continuity played up Jet Jaguar as more enigmatic than anything, as although he was mechanical, the only human character who knew his origins was killed off before it could be explained. Even one of the invading alien villains saw him on a screen and basically went, “Oh crap. It’s THIS guy!” Regardless, he still came off as a total badass, winning fights against Godzilla, Gigan (the chainsaw-hand version), and Destroyah.

Then again, at one point he needed to be saved by the 1998 American Godzilla, which at least proved as a reminder to the robot hero that there are Toho characters far more hated than him.

Toho started using Jet Jaguar again, albeit in sillier ways. In 2019, as an April Fool’s Day prank, they put up a teaser on YouTube for a Jet Jaguar movie. They also had him appear a few times on Godziban, a Godzilla web series for kids that, once again, used dolls and action figures to tell its stories.

Now Jet Jaguar is a major part of Godzilla Singular Point. To get into specifics on the plot would be like explaining advanced calculus, but to keep on-topic, Jet Jaguar is the creation of Goro Otaki as both a way to ward off monstrous threats and as a company mascot. Considering King Kong’s role in King Kong vs. Godzilla was “kidnapped to be a company mascot,” maybe the Germans were onto something with the rename.

Anyway, this version of Jet Jaguar is more mechanical in appearance instead of having to rely on making him look like a human in a costume. Jet Jaguar is there to protect the heroes from the endless supply of monsters, usually taking some extensive damage. Still, the robot gets rebuilt stronger and stronger and becomes advanced enough to become self-aware and speak in…well, the voice of a teenage girl.

I don’t know, I guess I just figured he’d sound like Astro Guy from King of the Monsters.

There’s a big hard-to-explain twist, but the main thing to know is that Jet Jaguar becomes a full-on badass by the end of the series, turns out to be a huge key to the plot, and has a completely kickass showdown with Godzilla. In a way, Jet Jaguar’s journey in Singular Point is a lot like in real life, going from a lame idea that appealed to kids and gradually being understood as a respected part of the Godzilla mythos. Something initially representative of the worst of the franchise, proven to be something genuinely cool in the right hands.

Now it’s time for America to return the favor. Once again, timing is on Jet Jaguar’s side. The Monsterverse was on its way to the graveyard after the box office intake of Godzilla: King of the Monsters, but Godzilla vs. Kong came out at just the right time in the tail end of the pandemic to be a big success and keep the series going a little bit longer. There aren’t too many names in the toybox left to pull out, but at this point, Gigan and Jet Jaguar have to be high on the list.

cnx.cmd.push(function() { cnx({ playerId: "106e33c0-3911-473c-b599-b1426db57530", }).render("0270c398a82f44f49c23c16122516796"); });

Make it happen, Hollywood!

Godzilla Singular Point is available to stream on Netflix now.

The post Godzilla Singular Point: The Weird History of Jet Jaguar appeared first on Den of Geek.

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[chubbychasershortstories]

Early Lessons - Chapters 5, 6 & 7

Chapter 5: Linda, John and Butch

There was a sweet girl about my age working at BK at that time named Linda. She always seemed to smile through the grueling work and I had no idea how she managed it. I worked really hard, but I wasn’t particularly happy while doing it.

We ended a dinner shift together at 10pm and as we left, we headed down the same street. I offered to escort her home as we didn’t live in the safest of neighborhoods. She accepted, thanking me, and asked me in when we made it to her apartment.

We chatted and got to know each other better while sipping on sodas. She was a very warm and caring person. I suddenly had a strange urge and just blurted it out, “I’m gay.” I had never admitted this to anyone I wasn’t in love with. Her response was, “Wow, I’ve never had a gay friend before.” She called me a friend on our first meeting and it felt great. She seemed totally intrigued and asked me questions I hadn’t even considered and couldn’t really answer, given my limited experience.

She opened up to me too and told me she was almost 18 now and had been kicked out of her home for dating someone her parents disapproved of vehemently. The two were married in a civil ceremony 2 months later and shared this apartment. He worked construction on a 10 days out - 4 days in schedule. I really liked John when we met and the three of us would party together and shoot pool at a nearby hall.

Linda had already explained to John that she had a gay friend now and he took it in stride and never made any untoward comments about it. I really respected him for that. We were in Texas after all. The second time we met, John gave me a hug when he got home right after giving Linda a hug and a kiss. He thanked me for being a good friend to Linda. He said he felt better about leaving her alone knowing I would be there for her. It felt really good to have close friends from whom I didn’t need to hide anything about myself. It felt very liberating.

I soon met Linda’s ‘lover on the side’, Butch. He was a reform school kid about our age. He had a very lanky build, weighing barely more than I. He had reform school tattoos that looked horrible and a peculiar haircut with the straight bangs cut at an angle across his face, high to low. He was an exhibitionist as well and I ended up watching him plow Linda with his massive cock on the day we met. Massive didn’t cover it. His cock looked to be 14 inches in length and as thick as a can of beer. I’m not exaggerating. Linda had her head thrown back in a rapturous pose. Butch kept looking back at my awed expression and looked quite pleased with himself at my stunned reaction. Afterward, he would often come by my garage apartment on his own to chat and party and we had a decent friendship of our own going.

John’s current work project finished before the 10-day mark. He arrived home at mid-day unexpectedly and heard a huge commotion in the bedroom. Butch had barely scrambled out the 2nd story window leaving the screen in tatters. John pressed Linda for what was going on and why the window had no screen left.

I heard a knock on my door. It was John with Linda in tow. She was staring at the ground. “Did you just jump out of my bedroom window?” he asked, incredulously. Linda had fumbled for her explanation on his return and resorted to accusing me since John knew I would not have been screwing her behind his back. She really didn’t want to admit to the truth.

I answered, “No?” wondering where the question would have come from. Then the pieces fell into place in my mind. “You LIED to me!” he directed at Linda as she started to cry. “Who WAS it?!?”

I asked them to come inside and talk about it. I don’t know where I found the “wisdom” having no experience, but I sat them down and walked through having them explain what their needs and expectations were. I told them I could feel that they belonged together and that they should work on accommodating each other’s needs to make their marriage work. Otherwise, one or both of them would be suffering until they would inevitably have to break it off. They agreed and worked out a new set of boundaries that they could both accept so that they could remain together in a more honest arrangement. They both hugged me hard and thanked me before leaving for home, hand in hand. Who would have thought that an inexperienced, gay 16-year-old could be a successful marriage counselor?

Chapter 6: The Descent

At work, I continued to outpace every other worker with at least twice the production. I learned my work ethic with my first job at age 5 reclaiming salvaged bricks from demolitions with a hand hatchet and huge screwdriver for a penny a brick.

I had been closing on the weekends for 3 years now. I always hustled while others plodded overnight. I was a smoker and really needed at least a drag or two but wasn’t going to ask for a break. So, I had my smoke in my mouth and lighter in hand as I hustled out the back door with another full trash bin on wheels, headed towards the dumpster in the back of the parking lot. Without missing a beat, I lit the cigarette and enjoyed a partial smoke while quickly dumping the trash and bouncing back. I stomped the smoke out in stride as I hit the back door buzzer.

The closing manager was a tall, skinny Hispanic guy who really didn’t like me for some reason. I think it was straight up racism, but I had tolerated his “white boy” comments and extra assignments without protest. He called me into the tiny back office as soon as I cleared the door. “There was a District Manager parked down the block and he saw you smoking and told me I needed to fire you right now.”

It was 3:30am and I knew he was lying and that he had seen me go out prepped for my partial smoke and was just using the situation to harass me again.

“I know you’re a fucking liar, but here, let me save you the trouble.” I spit my words and pulled my dorky BK uniform off in one motion and threw it into his chest and left. I had another kitchen job in 2 days. Unfortunately, they failed to let me know it was only seasonal and would end with the University’s home-game football season. To my complete surprise, I was laid off in mid-December. This time the job market sucked and no one was hiring. I was set to lose my lease on New Year’s Day.

Chapter 7: Rock Bottom with Butch and Richard

When I let Butch know I was unemployed and about to be homeless, he talked with his roommate and benefactor Richard. Richard decided to take me in, as he had Butch, although neither of us had any resources. He said it would be fine. He laughed and told me I could ‘sing for my supper’ and sleep on the couch. He liked my jokes and loved to hear me play and sing. Richard was very average looking and about 23 years old, I believe.

I was wondering how he could be so generous on his meager salary as an electronics assembler at the Texas Instruments plant. He arrived home on the afternoon of our first Friday as a household grinning like the Cheshire Cat holding his $120.00 weekly paycheck. How could he be so pumped to be holding a weekly check that only covered a third of the rent on his 2-bedroom apartment? I soon found out.

“Come on!” he shouted on the way to his old beater of a car. We piled in and drove by the bank to cash his check then on to his “connection’s” place. With $100.00, he purchased 20 ¼ gram packets of what I later learned was some of the purest crystal meth to hit the city in ages. They called it ‘Crank’. I was clueless but didn’t let on. We sped over to Party A and quickly unloaded the stash for $200.00. We repeated the process, doubling up leaving Party A with $400.00. Back we went to purchase twice the volume then and headed to Party B. $800.00, then $1600.00. I couldn’t believe what I was a part of. I had seen the stuff being snorted at Party A, but at Party B the product seemed to disappear into a back room where the door was always kept closed. I found out later that the users in the backroom at Party B were injecting the stuff. 7 of the IV users migrated to Richard’s apartment to continue the action. I had been given lots to drink and smoke at these parties and was fairly well lit when we got home around 1am.

There was a guy that I was attracted to among the 7 tagalongs. Feeling very uninhibited, I was deep in conversation with him when Butch moved into my side with his back to me while grabbing my right arm off the back of the couch securing it out of my sight in front of him. I tried to finish a thought I was expressing to the cute chubby guy when I felt a sting at the crease of my elbow. Butch held my arm tightly so I couldn’t move. Without my knowledge or consent, Butch and Richard had just mainlined me with 5 of the individual user packets worth of the stuff prepped for a syringe, 1.25 grams. This was apparently my “cut” of the action, along with $50.00 cash.

Before I could get an explanation, the solution pumped through my heart and up to my brain. It felt like being strapped to a rocket. I could feel my rapid, pounding pulse at my temples, ears and neck. After maybe 15 minutes, the initial rush was replaced by a complete sense of euphoria that lasted the majority of 2 days before subsiding. Day 3 was HELL. Every cell in my body ached and yearned. I was grateful that the supply was exhausted or I would have begged, borrowed or stolen for another dose to regain the euphoric effect.

Butch and I were home alone having not slept or eaten yet on Monday, Day 3. That’s when I found out that Butch was Bi. He asked if I would have sex with him. He told me he had wanted to ever since his exhibition show with Linda. He had helped me out of a tight jam and I felt obligated but uninspired as I agreed to try. I warned him there was no way I could take it like Linda had. He assured me he didn’t expect that. Surprisingly, he wanted me to screw him. Try as I might, I couldn’t get my equipment to function for him in my compromised and unenthused state and he settled for a combination BJ and two-handed jerk. I could barely get the head of it in my mouth while guarding my teeth. The experience made me feel hollow inside. I vowed to never have that sort of sex again. Neither Butch nor Richard were my type and I figured they’d expect me to pay for my room and board by having sex with at least one if not both of them. I knew I couldn’t continue down this road. Staying with Butch and Richard would turn me into a meth addicted sex toy.

Stay tuned. More to come.

[mareebrittenford]

The Extra Fakes- Shadow Mirrors Chapter 4

The story so far… Lyse is drawn to the charming old house over on Orangethorpe, but when she tries to point it out to others, it’s like they can’t even see it. After a terrifying moment when her little sister disappeared into the house Lyse seeks out the one person who has been acting just as weird about it as she has. David, the twitchy new guy on the running team.

He’s got a lot more of a secret that she bargained for, especially when he starts changing into... something not human.

Here’s links to the previous chapters 1, 2 , 3

Please let me know what you think, I love feedback! 

I should've expected this. I mean, he pretty much spelled it out. But despite all the weirdness around this fairy house, and the predatory vibes he throws out almost accidentally and the fact that today it feels like anything could and will happen I still am legitimately surprised that David is in fact, a werewolf.

It's not fast like they change in the movies. It seems to take focused effort, as if he's willing each thing to happen. First hair appears all over his formerly not very hairy body, it's a variegated brown, seeming to spread down from his head to cover his pale skin. and then he drops down to his hands and knees, and it's like a ripple, spreading out from his torso, his limbs changing shape, and his face distorting and reforming itself into something more elongated, and finally canine.

And then there stands before me a wolf. A wolf with a pair of red checkered boxer shorts on, it's tail sticking awkwardly out of one leg hole.

I think that's the clincher. Because I start to giggle.

David is a werewolf. Of course he his. The modest kind who keeps his underwear on when he changes form in front of a girl.

"So should I be worried about you biting me and making me into a wolf too?"

I swear it rolls it's big yellow eyes.

"So can you understand me in there?"

It dips it's head, like a nod.

"Okay, so not really seeing the scary part. Can I pet you?"

He cocks his head to the side, nostrils flaring. Is he smelling me? What an uncomfortable thought. I'm sure I don't smell good, too sweaty and stressed. But he trots closer, and I lay my hand on his head. The fur is coarser than I expected, thicker and bigger around his neck and shoulders, like the mane of a lion. He stands there and lets me run my hands through it, and down his back, not just letting me, leaning into my hands like he's enjoying it. I remember that I'm actually petting David. I'm putting my hands all over him to his apparent enjoyment.

I take a couple of steps back.

"Umm, I think I'm ready for you to change back now."

I pick up the flashlight and click it off. Somehow it seems like a bad idea to have it turned on him, like a spotlight as he goes through this transformation. What if someone is watching?

He's right, it does take longer for him to change back. It's several minutes until he's fully human again. And this time I do feel pervy seeing him in his underwear. He seems equally uncomfortable as he quickly grabs his clothes and throws them on.

"I'm still waiting for the scary bit."

"I can't believe you. I mean, I can, I can smell fear, so I could tell you weren't scared, but I don't know why. I just defied physics and turned into a dangerous wild animal right in front of you. Plus I'm clearly a horrifying supernatural creature.  And you wanted to pet me."

"Before I thought maybe your big secret was something really awful. Now I know it's this you're a whole lot less frightening."

And he laughs. I don't think I've ever heard him laugh before.

"But, you know, I think we could really freak out Lionel with this."

"I clearly haven't been thinking hard enough about the prank potential."

"That's what you have me for."

But now it really is full dark, and I can't see anything. I hear some rustling coming toward us, and I belatedly remember the dog. It makes sense now why it's afraid of David, but I still don't feel good about it.

"Can we go back inside now?"

"Yeah, sure. I just can't do that indoors. It's too scary."

I sense rather than hear him moving away from me, and I belatedly remember to turn on the flashlight I have in my hand. "Hey! Can you see in the dark or something?"

"Not as good as I can when I'm a wolf, but yeah, a bit."

"So far I'm not seeing a downside to all of this."

"Ha ha. You better be kidding."

I'm not actually. So far all of this seems really cool. I mean, he turns into a regular, not monster wolf, without loosing his mind, and he can see in the dark and can... wow. Practically leap tall buildings. Or at least, make a standing jump up to grasp the railing of his balcony and pull himself up and over with astonishing ease. Pretty impressive for a guy of his height.

"Did it occur to you that I can't do that?" I call up. "Should I go round to a door?"

"Oh." And then he rolls over the railing and comes right back down again, as easy as if it's a flight of stairs.

"Here," he says, dragging over a patio table. "Try standing on this."

"Yeah, fine, but I can't pull myself up like you did. I can't even do a pull up in gym."

"Don't worry, I'll pull you up."

He springs back up onto the balcony, and I eye him dubiously.

"I don't think you can lift me."

"Trust me. I'm stronger than I look. Super-powered."

"Wolf boys have super strength?"

"Seems like."

So I stand on the table and jump, and he catches my hands and pulls me up as easily as he pulled himself.

"So, how long have you been a werewolf, or do you prefer wolf shifter?" I ask, once we're settled back inside.

He laughs again. "I don't know what I'm supposed to be. I don't think either is quite right, from what I've read anyway. It's just sometimes I'm a wolf."

"Shifter then."

"Is that why you're being so cool? Do you mainline werewolf romance or something? Because honestly? I've read some of those recently and I am nothing like that."

"Damn, and I was hoping for a love triangle too."

An awkward silence falls between us. David is curling into himself again and I watch him. I really should be more... something over this. Frightened doesn't seem right though, he's not scary. Disbelieving? I suppose I should be trying to find ways for this to be faked, or a delusion or whatever, but that doesn't feel right either. I saw it and I don't know why I shouldn't believe it.

Maybe I'm not reacting strongly because I can't find the right reaction to have. I'll probably wake up screaming at 3 a.m. But for now all I can see is that David is scared and I need to help him.

I tuck my knees up in front of me and lean forward. "So what happened? I'm guessing you weren't born this way."

"I was stupid. At the start of summer my parents took us camping, up north, in Oregon. My aunt lives up there. They were always trying to get me outside, enjoy nature. Believe it or not I used to be the sort of guy who never went outside if he could help it. My brother's always been the athlete."

"So wait, are you saying that this only happened a few months ago?"

"Yeah. My brother had a couple of his friends along for the trip, and they wanted to do this multi-day hike into the back country. My parents made them take me along which no one wanted. And then, I don't know, I got lost, I don't remember much. I just woke up naked and alone in the woods about twenty four hours later."

"Oh!" All the joking drops away as I think about how I'd feel in that situation. Terrified. "Do you think you were actually bitten, Or?"

"I don't know. I can't remember. I know I didn't have any obvious bite marks and I was alone when I woke up."

"So what happened? How did you get home?"

"I just knew how to find Slater. I could smell him I guess. I didn't think about it like that, but even as a human I have this sense of where people are. Like I always know where you are at school."

I think about how weirdly often I've looking up to find him watching me. "That explains that then."

"Crap." He rubs his face. "I didn't mean to be creepy. I'm sorry."

I wave my hand. "It's fine. I've mostly been annoyed with you because you're avoiding me and always watching me. If you stop staring at actually talk to me we're cool. Anyway, so you just wandered back to your brother stark naked? How did that work out for you?"

"They were as freaked out as I was, but at least they had my pack, so I got clothes."

"Had they sent out search and rescue or anything?"

"No. Slater was still trying to find me himself, the idiot, but no one had called the forest rangers or anything. Stupid, I could've died because they didn't want to get in trouble. But whatever. It was better for me. We didn't tell mom and dad I got lost at all. And no one knows I can turn into a wolf, not my parents, or Slater. Just you."

That feels heavy. He's putting a lot of trust in me.

"Don't worry, your secret is safe with me."

He nods, like he was expecting that. I guess he wouldn't have let me see if he didn't think he could trust me.

"I didn't know I could become a wolf either, not then at least. I didn't change until a few weeks later."

"And what, you just suddenly turned into a wolf?"

"Pretty much. It built up, I know what it feels like now, but then I was just feeling miserable, like a combination of coming down with the flu and that feeling, you know, where you just have to run?"

I find myself nodding. I do know that feeling, like I have too much energy inside me and I have to use it or burst.

"And one night I was asleep, and I woke up and I was a wolf. I panicked, really bad. I was all tangled up in blankets and clothes and I shredded it all, and broke the window to get out." He points to the new pristine pane of the window.

"How did they not know then?"

"They thought I had a panic attack. I haven't exactly been myself since that hiking trip."

Before I think, I jump up, go to him, and lean into him and hug him. He startles, flinches, whatever you call it, and then he's grabbed me and pulled me closer.

"Thank you for not being frightened of me."

"You can be scary as you walk me home."

"Sure."

I grab my backpack, making a show of looking around the room for stray items, even though I didn't open it. That hug, I meant it for comfort and solidarity, but it feels like more. I don't want it to be more. Especially not now. I feel for him, I do, but, I cannot get involved in that.

#

His mom is sitting in the living room reading a book when we pass through, can it be that less than thirty minutes have passed? It seems like eternity.

"I'm going to walk Lyse home," David tells his mother, and she frowns.

"I'm not sure I want either of you wandering around at night, especially alone on the way back dear. Didn't I tell you that Marcie next door is sure she saw an enormous coyote in her back yard the other night?"

I give David a sidelong glance. Coyote? Or Wolf-David?

David sighs. "It's barely dark mom. How about I walk her home and then call an Uber to get back?"

She nods, but she's still hesitant.

"My mother worries about me," David says.

"Of course she does. She doesn't know you could eat anyone who bothered you."

He pulls his cap down. "I don't eat people. Cats. I've eaten cats, and yes, it's as gross as it sounds."

"Oh my God! Why?"

"It's like I have to let the wolf out to run periodically, otherwise I go crazy. And eating cats sounds like a great idea when I'm a wolf."

"I thought you were still in control? That you were still you."

"Yes and no. I'm not a mindless beast, but I'm not quite the same as human me either. I'm wolf me. Like before when I changed with you, I knew who you were, and I wasn't going to hurt you or anything, but it was different. At first I wanted to run away. Humans make me jumpy when I'm a wolf."

"Humans make you jumpy all the time David."

"Yeah yeah."

The neighborhood is a hive of activity at this time of early evening. People are grilling on their tiny front patios and balconies. Kids are running around and playing. It's difficult to feel unsafe at the moment, even though there is a group of men standing on the corner watching us. I still hurry on, and lower my voice.

"So this explains why you're so weird, but it doesn't explain that house."

"I can tell you what I thought."

"Please."

"I thought you and Lionel were like me. Or not quite like me, I would think I'd be able to tell if you guys were wolves too. But I figured you were different in some way too."

"No way. I'm completely normal."

"You sure? Because you seem different to me. And felt like I had to know you, I had to be near you."

"That's called a crush loser."

"Haha. I guess I've also got a massive crush on Lionel? There's your love triangle then. The three people who can see that strange house."

"Four. Four of us can."

"Who?"

"My best friend Georgia. I showed it to her yesterday. She can see it just fine, and she wasn't surprised or confused like you were."

"That makes sense. The three of you being close makes sense."

"This is all crazy. You're saying that the four of us are being what? Drawn together by that house? But Lionel and Georgia and me have been friends for years. You're the only new element."

"Because I wasn't different, not until three months ago. Now I am. So now I'm one of you."

My heart thunders in my chest as I remember that thing I read earlier. Only the monsters can see other monsters.

"I'm completely ordinary. There is absolutely nothing special about me."

"Yet you can see this thing that no one else can see. And you knew what I was too. That's why you haven't freaked out. Because you knew. The first time we met you looked at me and saw what I was."

"I did not."

"Then why weren't you surprised when I changed?"

I chew on my lip, not wanting to acknowledge that he's right. Didn't my instincts scream at me about him being something that hid in the shadows? Wasn't I on some level expecting something like this?

"Here's a thing that sounds great, but really isn't. A thing that comes with my new abilities. You can't lie to me."

"That sounds like a threat."

"It's not. I just, I can read people like a book now. It's a combination of body language and smell I think. Anyway, I know that you knew what I was the first time you looked me in the face, and it scared you."

"I didn't go 'Wolf!' though. I just thought that it would be a bad idea to be alone with you in the dark."

"Yet here we are." He waves his hands around. I hadn't been paying attention as we walked, but we're out of his neighborhood, and onto East Street. Cars are wizzing by, and there are streetlights, but I have no doubt that if he wanted to hurt me, he could do it here without anyone noticing.

"I'm not scared of you any more, obviously." If I ever really was.

"Why? Why aren't you? You should be terrified. I'm a monster. Why aren't you scared of me?"

I stop and turn to him. We'd be eye to eye, if it wasn't for that stupid cap. I pull it off his head and he stares at me, with those strange compelling eyes.

"Because now you make sense. And the truth isn't something I need to be scared of."

He grabs the cap back and jams it down on his head again.

"What is with the hat? Is the eye thing a werewolf thing? Are your eyes different now?"

"They look the same to me, boring brown. But people keep commenting. What exactly do you see?"

"I can't even describe it. I mean, your right. They're just brown. But there's something special too. Compelling I guess you'd say."

"Great. I really am straight out of a werewolf romance." He turns his head away, uncomfortable with the scrutiny.

"And you don't like the attention. And right now it's obviously a good idea to keep the cap on because of the way they glow in the dark."

"What?" He looks utterly horrified. "Are you saying my eyes are glowing right now?"

"No I mean, not like glowing glowing, but like, you know, a wolf I guess. You know how animal's eyes seem to glow when you catch them with a light at night."

"Great. Just great. Now I have eyes that glow in the dark. As if I wasn't weird enough."

"Just, keep the cap on. And don't look into the incoming cars lights. In fact..." I turn into a house tract, even though it's not mine. "Let's cut through here. Less traffic."

He's breathing heavily, and I'm afraid he's going to panic and take off.

"David. David. Calm down. Please." Crap. I wish I'd thought to ask what I should do if he panicked. I take both of his hands as if I can anchor him here. "It's going to be okay. You'll get through this. Don't leave me alone here."

Slowly his breathing calms, and he stops clutching my hands quite so tightly.

"What is it you said about me? That I'm nonstop drama? I'm sorry."

"Don't worry about it. I was just scared you were going to take off and leave me to walk home alone in the dark."

"Sorry. I just got overwhelmed."

"It's okay. Really. I can see why the eye thing would make you freak out."

"My eyes really glow like an animal."

"Yeah. Sorry. It's a very nice golden color, if that's any consolation."

"yeah, because how would I cope if my eyes glowed a weird color?"

"Exactly. Did you know kangaroos eyes glow pink? I mean at least you're not stuck with some girly color like that."

"That makes all the difference in the world." He forces a smile, and takes a few more slow controlled breaths.

"You okay now? Ready to go?"

"Oh. Yeah. Sorry." He seems to suddenly become aware that he's holding my hands, because he drops them like they're on fire, and starts walking, leaving me skipping to catch up.

"So anyway, yeah, I think that there is something happening, to apparently all four of us, I'm the new addition because I've been changed, but the three of you have had something weird happening to you for a while I'm guessing. Maybe years. Is there anyone else that you feel drawn to? Or that can see this weird house?"

"I don't know. I keep trying to show it to people, but they react all sorts of strange ways. Some people seem a bit confused, But most people, they seem to be like Bradley Paz, they just don't see it, or they see a freaking model train store for some reason."

"I'm telling you, I know there is a train store there. I've been inside it. I can almost see it out the corner of my eye, like it's still there, somewhere."

"My sister, she saw the train store. And then she disappeared."

"What! Is she okay?"

"Yeah, it was only for a few seconds, but it freaked me out. It's why I hunted you down."

"Hunted me down?"

"You said you like the river trail."

He's silent for a few moments.

"How would you feel about going to check out this place right now?"

"Now?" I look around. It's fully dark, and this residential street we're on doesn't have a lot of street lights. I feel like the last person on earth. I wish David hadn't let go of my hands.

"Just to check it out. It's only about a mile away. We can be there in less than fifteen minutes. Faster if you want to run." He bounces a bit, making it clear that even if I don't want to run he sure does.

I'm not dressed for it. I like being dressed appropriately. But I've got sneakers on.

"Sooner we get there the sooner we get home."

If you’ve made it this far thanks for reading, As always I appreciate any support for my writing, so if you’re enjoying this please check out my novels #1, #2, patreon and ko-fi!

tagging @pinehutch @focusdumbass @timeenoughforamasterpiece @maximillianvalentine @q-oetry @rosy-writes @sunsetsrmydreams @goddessofnothingatall

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[jasperrollswrites]

Tome of Another Realm

Another one for randomwolf91 - this time he wanted a TF into his Roegadyn character from Final Fantasy XIV.

———————

If you're not one to use a computer much, it's hard to really explain how much it sucks when it breaks. It's an escape, a way to relax, and catch up with the world. It can feel like you've been cut off from something very important in your life - even if you don't do stuff considered particularly important by most people.

This was Loez's situation now. His computer had gone on the fritz - been that way since the weekend. He still wasn't totally sure why it had happened. He'd been playing Final Fantasy XIV, when the whole thing had just suddenly cut out inexplicably. The screen went black, the fan of the computer shut off, all the lights on the tower went down. There hadn't been any sort of power cut or anything, it hadn't overheated. It just wouldn't turn back on at all. At least one saving grace was that he hadn't been doing anything majorly important when it had cut out.

He'd taken the computer to a shop on the Monday, and they said they'd let him know what they'd found by next week. So here he was, 4 days without a computer. No games, no important files...in the modern age of smartphones it wasn't too bad. He still had access to social media and IM chat clients, but it's never quite the same. So here he was, at home, frustrated and bored out of his mind. All he wanted was his computer back.

He was lying on his bed, fully clothed, his phone lying at his side. He couldn't really think of anything to do...well, not quite. He could think of things he could be doing, he just didn't want to do any of them. Even the things that otherwise sounded like they might be fun seemed unappealing and boring. He scratched his belly through his red t-shirt.

He stifled a yawn, even though it was the middle of the day. Maybe if he just curled up and slept now, he could sleep through to the next week, when he already had his computer back. If only it were so easy. Slowly pushing himself up, leaving his phone on the bed, he walked over to the window and stared out at the street below. Surely anything would be better than just laying in bed all day.

What could he do? Something he hadn't done in a while maybe. Nice as a computer was, by its nature if you spent too much time with it, it left you kind of a hermit. He should go out somewhere. Somewhere he hadn't been before...or maybe somewhere he had, but not in ages. Where, though?

He scratched his beardy chin, trying to think of a place to go. Maybe a restaurant or something...nah, that'd be kind of weird, going on his own. What was a good place you could go to on your own? He glanced around the room looking for ideas. Most places you went with someone. Not that he didn't necessarily have people to go with, just...

He caught himself absentmindedly staring at a bookshelf with a few books placed on it. He considered reading them, but he'd read them all already, and he didn't feel like looking at them again right now. He should probably buy some new books...or...

The library. It seemed kind of obvious, when he thought about it. They were places designed for you to be alone in, practically. Maybe he'd go, spend a few hours there. It couldn't hurt. Might make him feel less like he was trapped in this place. He pulled up his jeans at the waistline, looking around for socks to put on. It was sounding like a better idea all the time.

---

The walk to the library wasn't too far, but it was long enough for Loez's mind to drift, inevitably, back to the night his computer had shut off. He'd donned a pair of converses and a blue hoodie for his short outing, and was walking along the main street now. The sun was shining, although it was a little weak, as summer was starting to end. He adjusted his glasses. What had caused the sudden outage was still a mystery to him. He tried to remember exactly what he had been doing when it had happened. He'd just finished a mainline quest - luckily the game had saved, so he hopefully hadn't lost all that much. As far as he could remember, he'd just started a new one...something about forgotten memories or something, and then the whole thing had shut off.

He supposed what he missed the most about not having FFXIV around to play right now was his character. A handsome, stylish roegadyn, with grey skin, and muscles to spare. They were a very attractive race, he thought - a little beastly, but not too much, and naturally powerful. It was nice to play pretend at that kind of thing. 

Realizing he was getting close to the library, Loez stopped thinking about his PC for once. He stopped for a moment, taking in the building. It was a pretty small local library, all red brick with some windows set in the walls. The electric sliding doors admitting entrance to the building looked a little out of place. He headed inside, getting out of the heat that was starting to make him sweat a little bit.

It was cool inside, thanks to the AC. The decor was pretty simple - dark blue carpets, white wallpaper, with some colourful leaflets and such pinned up on notice boards. The corner for kids books had some colorful paint on the walls, but otherwise, the rest was just simple wood furniture and shelves of books. It was a nice thing he'd sort of forgotten about libraries. No-one would bother you here unless you asked them to, really.

He began walking through the library, mainly sticking to the fiction section. Thinking about Final Fantasy had put him in the mood for something fantasy-based. There was a lot of books that seemed interesting, that he'd never heard of before. Some weird takes on Alice in Wonderland, a darker version of Who Framed Roger Rabbit, but about holiday mascots instead. He raised an eyebrow at a small manga section, surprised a little library like this would have something like that. He guessed it had been a while since he'd been here.

Now he was finding licensed books - books based on videogames in particular. Stuff like Halo, and BioShock, spin off books and graphic novels. He didn't feel like reading any of them in particular...then one particular book caught his eye.

It stood out, mainly by having nothing immediately identifiable about it on its cover. Unlike the hard, plastic cover of the books that surrounded it, this cover was leather, with straps bound around it. It looked very out of place. He reached towards it, pulling it out of the shelf. He was surprised to see that the straps binding the book were for real - he suspected they might have been drawn on, at first glance. He tugged at them - they looked like simple belt buckles to unstrap.

He looked around for a reading area, and saw one of the little cubicles set aside for quiet reading. Walking over, he sat down in the chair and set the book on the table - it was quite heavy, and landed with a thump. He unstrapped the bindings, and was surprised again - the book seemed to have no title. Just a nondescript, brown leather cover. Maybe there was something on the inside. He opened the cover up. There didn't seem to be any publishing information, which seemed odd. He turned a couple of pages, until he saw the first words, in a classical, somewhat large font.

"Tales of Adventure - A Realm Reborn A record of recent Eorzean history."

Loez raised an eyebrow. Figures. He'd managed to pick up a supplementary book about Final Fantasy XIV. Although, it was a little strange. Usually, Square Enix couldn't resist putting the logo all over anything related to Final Fantasy. It was a surprising amount of restraint they were showing. Maybe to make the book feel more "authentic"? He turned a couple more pages, with fingers that had thickened slightly...but only very slightly.

The book seemed to be acting as a sort of primer for the game, but as if the book itself was directly from the game, being written by an Eorzean historian. The opening section talked about the initial, infamously bad version of the game - although it didn't seem to be making as many jokes about it as Square Enix were more prone to do these days, given how bad the original version of the game was.

This section was pretty short - they seemed to be talking about it as if it was long ago, mythical times that no-one really knew all that much about. Of course, Loez, knew how it ended, with Bahamut destroying the old world, and the adventurers being sent of the world to the "realm reborn". As he read further, reminiscing about the couple of weeks he'd spent in the old version of the game, his body was changing.

He was starting to lose weight...no, that wasn't quite right. He was losing fat. His belly, which would normally push out against his shirt, was beginning to...well, it looked a little like it was deflating, at first. This wasn't quite the case, however. The fat was being converted. His stomach was losing its softness, the abdominals beginning to harden. His hips widened slightly, and he felt a warm feeling over his body. It wasn't too much, not really all that noticeable, just...pleasant.

Loez read on, to the "Realm Reborn" part, which was a bit more dense than the preceding section - mainly because the writer seemed to know more about it. As he read over the creation myth and early history, his hands were thickening further now. His digits gained extra mass, the palms of his hands broadening. There was a very slight tickle, as the tips of his fingers became more calloused, and small scars split the hand open, before the skin knitted back together. A black mark appeared around the inside of his right hand, between his thumb and forefinger, as well as on the tip of his thumb - the mark of someone who used a weapon such as a gun relatively frequently.

The book went on, about wars throughout the history of Eorzea, the various rulers and classes, races that populated the realm. Loez wondered if they were going to talk about the stuff you did in the game, and how they'd handle it. His forearms were bulking out now, gaining in muscle, any fat they had being converted. As before, there was a warm feeling going through him, but it wasn't breaking his concentration. His biceps were bulking out now, connecting up with his shoulders and back, which were getting wider - if anyone was to watch, they could see him getting bigger in the cubicle, gaining in muscle spontaneously.

His skin was beginning to lose its colour, the pink fading from his skin. He was becoming paler all over, his skin beginning to turn almost white. His back muscles were piling on the strength, that warm feeling going through his shoulder blades. It was like a pleasant massage, and the front of his body wasn't long in trying to catch up. His pecs were pushing out now. Before, they'd been soft, and kind of plump with fat, but as with the rest of his body, that fat was being converted to more muscle, the muscle of someone who spent a lot of time around physically taxing jobs.

Loez was starting to get to the actual "recent history" part of this book...and as he did, it was now his clothes turn to start changing. It started with his hoodie, the blue colour draining from it, as the soft cotton was toughening up, becoming a harder leather, the colour becoming more of a dark brown. The sleeves were riding up, exposing his much bulkier arms for a brief moment. However, they were then covered up by his undershirt, which was doing something like the opposite of his jacket, the sleeves there lengthening, but only up to the lower part of his wrists.

The zip of the hoodie simply seemed to fade away, the material knitting together into a solid piece of brown leather. Buttons were pushing out instead, marking the starts of straps that were hanging loosely down off the former hoodie. The sleeves had now come all the way up to his shoulders, before pulling back over them making his hoodie more like a tough leather vest. His shirt, meanwhile, was losing its colour. The red turned to a soft pink, before turning white. The collar rose up around his neck around the back, but the front of the collar opened up, folding back on itself. Buttons bloomed underneath the leather vest, becoming undone at the top, exposing his collarbones, and the tops of his pectoral muscles, the skin turning back from white, to a darker shade...more of a grey.

Loez pushed up his glasses with his right hand, oblivious to the changes, exemplified by the fact that the hand he'd just used was having a glove formed around it. It started simple enough, around his wrist, a similar brown to his vest. White markings drew themselves in, as the leather of the glove raised up around his hand, before stopping around his knuckles, leaving his upper fingers bare. A metal plate shimmered into place, a bit of blue light surrounding them briefly, before setting into the glove, to protect his hand.

"Eorzea has many adventurers - some may even call them heroes," the book read. "The next section of this history concerns itself with the 7th Umbral Era, an era in which there are many notable adventurers. However, perhaps the most notable would be one no-one at the time would have expected - a roegadyn by the name of Loezkirz Sykursyn."

That line made Loez stop. Because that was his name.

No, it was...the name of his character...in the game. Of course. Where had that come from? It wasn't the point. Why was his...character's name in this book? He'd figured they would just use the generic "warrior of light" nickname for anything the player did, but here it was. It was his...his...character's...name...here in the book. It wasn't drawn in. It had definitely been typed in the book. Why would they put his...character's...name...why was he getting hung up on that? With his right hand, he turned the book over to the back cover, hoping for an explanation - and noticed the glove.  

"Uhhh..." Loez stammered, in a noticeably lower voice, jumping with surprise. The realisations came quick and fast - the glove, the skin, the size of the hand, then down along his bulked out forearms, biceps triceps, his pecs pushing out, the strange new clothes. No, not new clothes. He knew these clothes, they were his clothes! Uh, his character's clothes, he meant. In Final Fantasy XIV. Which was...a game. Wasn't it?

Except...that didn't feel quite right any more. His head was getting fuzzy. He was...just...a human, right? He had a computer, and stuff, and he just lived a normal life, and he played video games? That couldn't be right. He remembered it, but it didn't sound real to him. Then what was he? The roegadyn? The adventurer the book spoke of? That didn't sound real either. He looked around, but it made his head hurt more. The walls were spinning, the wallpaper was shifting...one moment it was plaster, the next it was ancient, stone brick. What was happening to him?

He looked down at the book, and his head seemed to get less fuzzy. Did the book have the answers? It seemed so strange that he should forget who he was in this way, but...just looking at the book seemed to make him feel better. He took it in his broad hands (did he have those before? He couldn't remember), and opened it up, trying to find his page again.

"...a roegadyn by the name of Loezkirz Sykursyn." The name that made him stop. Why had it bothered him so? He hadn't expected to read it...maybe if he read further it would explain. He began reading the next section in earnest, slightly fearful of what might be coming. It talked of the events of the 7th Umbral Era, the exploits of this roegadyn with the name that had made his head hurt so before. As he read on, his hair darkened in shade, going from chestnut brown to a more jet black shade. His beard was growing out, becoming fiercer, but finely combed, like he took extensive time making it look good. As he read about encounters in dungeons with fierce enemies, his softened jawline began to harden, becoming squarer. He licked his dry lips, as they thickened.

His lower body wasn't exempt from changes. His legs had packed on the muscle now, powerful and strong, his endurance and stamina increasing as he read. His jeans had gone from denim, to the brown leather of his vest. A belt snaked it's way around his waist, the left side beginning to bulk out and hang down - a large pouch attached to the belt. Anyone else might have trouble carrying it around, but his powerful leg muscles were more than up to the job of carrying the items that were beginning to fill the pouch.

As he read on, learning more about the adventures of this roegadyn, the more it...felt right. He was beginning to recall these adventures, with much more clarity than the historian. Descending into the dungeons - he could remember fighting the monsters the book spoke of. He remembered the kick of the gun in his hand most vividly, as a strap wound its way around his body, and the gun in question shimmered into place, not unlike the metal plate on his gloves. The double barrels of the weapon pointed at the ground, as it slid into its holster, strapped to his back. The weight of the gun on his back felt familiar...felt right.

His nose was broadening, his skull getting wider - his glasses stretched to accommodate, and he felt no pain, as they refit himself to his reshaping face. His brow came lower, harder set, as he frowned at an inaccuracy. His hair became shorter, closer to the nape of his neck, finely combed, just like his beard...he stroked the beard in question, fondly remembering some lighter moments in his adventures. The jet black colour went through all of the hair that adorned his head, save for the tips of his hair, which had streaks of light green complementing it.

The final touches fell into place. His converses hardened out into large boots, with metal spurs. Two markings drew themselves in under his eyes, light green ink pressing into his skin, becoming a permanent, tattooed feature, and as he came to the end of the section about himself, earrings pierced through his lobes, settling lightly into place. He smiled, and closed the book with one hand.

Perhaps a bit self-indulgent to read about oneself, but the way Loezkirz saw it, if you didn't know your own history at the very least, then there was nothing to stop you repeating mistakes in the future. It was very nice of someone to write out his history for him, at least - not everyone had that luxury. Standing up, he looked for where he had taken the book from, and returned it to its shelf, walking past the old stone bricks that had seen so many days pass.

Some people would see it as a shame that perhaps the book could not see into the future, but as Loezkirz exited the old guild building into the sunlight of Limsa Lominsa, he figured that would spoil things. Half the fun of adventuring was never knowing what might come next. To him, the future wasn't something that was prewritten, to be determined by the divine. He took matters into his own hands, and made the future he wanted to see. 

He took a moment to admire the beautiful coastal city he called his home, the stunning stark white buildings and pavements that he knew so well. He wandered towards a bridge, simply enjoying the scenery, and stopped on the side. He closed his eyes, letting himself listen to the sound of the waves crashing against the rocks far below, and feeling the coastal wind blow through his hair. He couldn't be happier to be back where he belonged.

Back in the library, a blue light surrounded the book Loezkirz had returned to the shelf, before flashing. The book disappeared, the name of the handsome young roegadyn being erased, and replaced with the name of a different hero, before appearing in another library, in another world.

The call to adventure was waiting for yet another, and the gateway was through a tome of another realm.

[thewaywedo33]

Wynonna Earp 2x07 Thoughts and Faves

There seems to be something special about a Wynonna Earp episode seven. Much like 1x07, this episode feels like a point in the season where everything starts to gel together and hurdle forward at a rapidly increasing pace.  Also, Wynhaught goodness was the cornerstone of this episode, much like last year.  Version 2.0 was awesome, to say the least. Shall we dig in?

In the opening scene Wynonna realizes Mercedes and Beth are connected to the Widows. I’m glad we’re moving into the cat and mouse stage between protagonist and antagonist. It was a delicious tension throughout Season 1 with Bobo, knowing he’s the bad guy, but having to wait for him to make a mistake, or, as it turned out, make his big diabolical move. With five episodes left in the season, I feel like we’re exactly where we need to be.

The opening scene cemented a particular concept for me.  We wear the biggest blinders concerning the people we love.  Wynonna realizes Mercedes is different almost immediately, knows something is off about her in a bad way. Yet, even when all the signs were there, it took her months to acknowledge something was off with Waverly.  

After everything with Willa, it is understandable for Wynonna to have a particular desperation and need for Waverly to be okay, but she ignored major red flags. Waverly is a blind spot of sorts for her. We all joke about Wynonna being oblivious, but I don’t actually think it’s the case most of the time. We see her pick up on the changes with Mercedes right away.  Her quick wit and constant commentary is actually indicative of someone who’s well aware of the reality going on around her. The fact that she has blinders on when it comes to her own family (let’s face it, she did it with Willa too), stands out to me, and is extremely human and relatable.

Doc seemed somewhat frail this entire episode, and I’m not just talking about the obvious coughing in the homestead. Something about his voice and movements seemed off and lacking their usual lively charm. I know he’s got a few things going on with the baby situation, but it felt like very specific choices were made to show his health, and immortality, fading.  In a show like Wynonna Earp, I tend to assume scenes exist for a reason, and Doc’s car struggling to start seems like a metaphor.  “Cursed piece of junk” applies to both the car and to himself.  I’m fully expecting for the gang to have to figure out a way to save him from the death he’s skirted for multiple lifetimes now.

One might assume I’ve run out of things to say about Wynonna and Nicole at this point, but alas, I have not.  Their friendship is a slow build, and I appreciate the relationship development between them as much as the one between Nicole and Waverly.

Underrated moment of the episode: The murder callback to season 1.  In 1x07 Wynonna suggested they murder pancakes, in 2x07 she wants to murder science.  I’m a sucker for little touches like that.

It took two seconds for Wynonna to give in to Nicole when she asks who Wynonna thinks she’d rather piss off, her, or Waverly?  No one wants to deal with Waverly’s wrath. Special shout out to the thing Kat Barrell does with her face when she says “or your sister?”  Actually, special shout out to everything Kat Barrell does in this episode.  Her comedic timing is so good, and when played off Melanie’s timing, we get tight, hilarious scenes.

I love the way Wynonna refers to Nicole as “Officer Haught” when she calls her naïve. She’s starting to differentiate between the personality aspects she doesn’t understand/don’t mesh with her own, and the person Nicole is as a whole, who is someone Wynonna actually likes and respects.

And can we talk about how protective Nicole is of Wynonna now?  Sure, some of it is due to her being Waverly’s sister, but mostly, Nicole is just a solid, upstanding person who wants to protect of those she cares about.  Nicole knows she can’t defeat Revenants on her own, yet she tells Wynonna to jet when the danger becomes apparent, all the while planning to stay and get the saliva sample from Jonas herself.   Talk about going towards the danger.  Not to mention, she nearly gives herself alcohol poisoning to help Wynonna maintain her cover.

Then we get the wonderful face she makes when Jonas asks if the baby is his and she tells him no, only to have Wynonna tell him “maybe”.  Nicole is so upset. She doesn’t want Wynonna putting herself in any more danger than she has to, just like with Waverly.  I’ll never stop yelling about the two of them and their relationship dynamic, FYI.

I feel a bait and switch coming on, but not necessarily in the traditional sense. We have not one, but two instances in this episode of the camera/dialogue hinting that Waverly is the product of a demon and human.  Look, I think there have been too many comments and references for Waverly to actually be the product of both Ward and Mama Earp, but I think there’s something else at play too.  It’s weird to me how the camera pans to Nicole in the execution scene, right after showing Waverly, when Jonas says “Rumor is it’s happened before.”  It happens exactly when Wynonna says “That’s the problem with rumors, people tend to believe them.” Why?  I don’t know, but it’s niggling at the back of my brain. Might be a red herring, might be something else.  Either way, I love that this show makes me think about things this hard.

I’m glad Waverly finally shared her secret with Wynonna. They need to get to the bottom of this together.  They’re better, and stronger, when they have each other’s backs. The proof of it is all over this episode.  Waverly asking Nicole to stay with Wynonna so she’s not alone; Wynonna looking at Waverly before she shoots Jonas to get her verdict on the matter, and proceeding once she gets the little nod; “Ours” (catch me crying forever over that).  The Earp sister relationship is the lifeblood of this show, and it won’t matter a single iota if they don’t share both of the same parents.  The family you choose (related by blood or otherwise), is always going to be a more potent bond than one you have no say in.

I can’t finish this without mentioning the boys, because their B plot and interactions were delightful. I love the way Jeremy feels like the hapless little brother Doc and Dolls have to band together to protect (from others, and from himself).  And the Doc/Dolls beer share at the end was exactly what I want from their relationship. Much like Wynonna/Nicole, I think Doc and Dolls work best when they have a mutual respect and admiration underlying their differences and conflicts.

Miscellaneous Scrap Thoughts and Fave Lines:

-There were two fantastic moments concerning judgement in this episode.  First with the doctor, who I want to wrap up and ensure no harm comes to after seeing what happened to the blacksmith last year.  How important and amazing was her scene with Wynonna?  “I’m not here to judge.”  The care they are taking with the pregnancy storyline, while still staying true to the essence of the show, is astounding. 

I also really liked Wynonna and Nicole’s interaction at the strip club.  Wynonna may have joked “There’s so much more to judge”, but I think after Nicole hears why Wynonna used to work there, her judgement is over.  At the very least, I think she now understands there’s a myriad of reasons one might have for working in such an establishment, and making assumptions is not the way to go.

-“He must have roofied the Pinot Grigio.” – Why do I find this line so funny?  I don’t think it works as well if she says any other wine.

-“Would you like me to draw you a diagram?  Because I will.” – Wynonna.  And then, Nicole actually does a diagram of sorts to Waverly, outside the strip club, and we have a perfect full circle moment.

-I feel for Jeremy and his Doc crush. “Not that I blame him for anything.” Oh sweetie, that is the worst kind of crush to have.  No one is infallible.

-I don’t think Nicole is actually gluten-free. There is no way an establishment like PussyWillows carries gluten-free beer, and Nicole was pretty much mainlining it.

-When Waverly cries, I cry, and I assume everyone else does too. I’m preparing my tear ducts for the rest of the season.

-Dolls fanboying over Bass Reeves is amazing.  I love when we get to see hints of his lighter side.

And hey, how about that Season 3 renewal?!  I can’t tell you how much it means to me that we aren’t done with this magical show in five episodes.

I started watching the show after the first two episodes aired, because someone tweeted the magical words ‘badass sister relationship’, which is my weakness, (probably because I’m one of three girls, we’re all horribly sarcastic, our childhood dynamics mirror the shows’ more than I care to admit, but I would go to hell in a handbasket for either one of them), and it's one of the best decisions I've ever made in my life.

Everything about Wynonna Earp is quality, from the cast, to Emily Andras, to the Earper fandom, to the wonderful talent we have producing podcasts, writing recaps and conducting interviews each week.  Thank unicorn we get another season.  But hey, I want more, so let’s get started on that Season 4 renewal push!

This show has such a potent grasp on my heart, and I don’t know that it will ever let go.  I’m okay with that.

[ngeibheann]

HELL AND YOU

(Or “Proximity Rule”)

“I mean, I was dying of a fucking meth overdose. Of course, I didn’t know what the hell I was doing.”  The explanation of hundreds of inexplicable scars. 

Pair: Mickey // Cassidy (ANTISANGUINE)

It’s about the proximity, more than anything else. It’s the warmth shared between bodies, still barely touching, fingers splayed across shoulder blades. Mickey doesn’t exactly know how to express the feeling of desolation that coming back from the dead gives him, and Cassidy had only barely missed witnessing the ordeal for himself.  They kept to Mickey’s own room, a dingy thing at the top of the Bonn Nui, showing the age of the building quite blatantly. It was Mickey’s own idea to bring him up to a private place, and he can’t shake the feeling of being a teenager again- complete with the slinking around the home and hiding behind closed doors to avoid confrontation. He could almost call it pitiful, in the same way. Another pity would be the sobriety. “Are ya all here, right now?” He asks, voice almost a quiet murmur, the small grin evident in his voice. “Or are ya really just this touchy with everyone?” “With nobody else,” Mickey says, softly. He doesn’t realize he’s practically whispering, hands trembling slightly. “And, I’m all here. For once.” “Ah,” Cassidy makes a small noise of understanding, glancing behind himself to check the still-unkempt bed. He places a hand over Mickey’s hip, a quiet guide to let them both stop standing for a moment, at least. “Bein’ all there is the worst, innit?” “The worst.” Mickey agrees, sitting near his nightstand. “You’d think it’d suck less, but now I’m just sore and jittery.” Nobody had to know that both of those things were gifted to him, rather than a commentary on his usual state of being. Cassidy seemed almost completely willing to accept it, save for his almost uncharacteristic quiet.  As if he were studying Mickey and the way he digs through the nightstand drawer, sputtering curses when he finally procures a pipe and a small round of foil. When he turns to face the other, prizes in hand, he’s greeted by a hand on his face. Mickey flinches, almost reflexively, before sighing heavily and leaning into the touch. “Somethin’s up with you,” He warns, quietly. “Bleach fumes finally get t’ you?” “I don’t usually like when people touch me.” Mickey says, pressing an impassive kiss to the other’s jaw, ignoring the bleach comment. “You’re just, new to me.” “Careful, been told I’m a real dirty bastard,” Cassidy says, and Mickey can’t quite tell if he’s joking or not. The short kiss he gets at the end of the comment only helps to confuse him more, however. “But, I’m still a little in th’ dark about you.” Mickey keeps working away at the foil, hash crumbling away from aluminum sheet as he picks up the resin and packs it into the bowl. He doesn’t remember leaning against the other, let alone how Cassidy’s hand had somehow slipped around him and caught at his waist, fingers wandering under the hem of his shirt. But, even still, he trusts him. “What’d you wanna know?” He asks, his fingers snapping to ignite a simple flame under the corner of the bowl’s chamber. “I got about thirty-two years of stories.” “Why hang out with a succubus?” Cassidy asks, fingers skating across barely Mickey’s exposed hip. “Incubus.” Mickey says, drawing in a deep inhale of smoke, evident through the glass walls of the pipe. “Horny demon in a wig,” He half-corrects himself, watching Mickey exhale a cloud of ash-white with a near pensive grace. Mickey glances at him, handing the cherried pipe over, smile evident. “Either way, why bother?” Mickey could admit some comfort, at least in the way he takes the pipe and smokes without prompting, or the languidly absent-minded touches. But the question stuns him, momentarily. He could ask about Benny, but he knew full well that Cassidy at least liked Benny in some degree. Enough to be nice. But, every time he sees Scarlett, he goes quiet and contemplative in a way that Mickey never really expects. “Do you want the truth?” He asks, pressing slightly closer. “Usually.” Mickey sighs, wringing his hands until the pipe returns to him, which he gratefully takes as an excuse to take another hit and delay the truth of the matter. “I sold my soul to her so I could be immortal,” Mickey says through the smoke, and he feels the hand freeze against the lowest rungs of his ribs. A small sigh of “sunnuvabitch” permeates the quiet air, and Mickey offers the pipe. Cassidy takes it, quietly. “I mean, I was dying of a fucking meth overdose. Of course, I didn’t know what the hell I was doing.” “First time isn’t mainline, y’know that? I accidentally killed a guy with that before and-“ His ramble stutters, almost overly nervous despite the excess of the hash between them. His hand tenses, harsh against a long, ragged scar that he had previously left unnoticed. Mickey winces, discomfort audible. “Shite, sorry-“ “No, no, you’re fine,” Mickey says, hand over his. It’s an invite to stay longer, to touch more, to revel in the quiet privacy between each other. “You wanted answers, I can give you answers.” He’s not exactly sure if it’s the high or the honest-to-god desire to be seen in full by someone that drives his momentary lack of terror. But, he takes his chance, fighting briefly with his shirt to finally remove it- chucking it onto the hardwood floor. He leaves himself bare, save for the binder across his chest. Across his body, hundreds of warped and wavering scars hatching across the near-exposed bone. The look he gets in return shifts from a curious amusement to a harsh notation of gravity, the seriousness of the implications blatant on Cassidy’s face as he puts out the smoldering hash, pipe laid simply on the nightstand. “Are these-“ He asks, fingers ghosting along the scars against his ribs as Mickey winces to the touch. He realizes this, brow furrowing when he looks to Mickey, the mental math of the tragedy slowly rolling in. “She’s got a habit of beating the shit outta me, sometimes,” Mickey admits, hands over the vampire’s to encourage their position against his body. The base fear grapples with the innate want, and he demands that they want will win. “I’m a terrible motherfucker, so I might not die, but every day’s a new kind of hell. She also, er-“ “No, no. I’m not gonna let ya sit here an’ tell me how she’s allowed t’ make ya look like a goddamned ragdoll.” Cassidy’s voice is stern, eyes hard when he stares back at Mickey. “What kinda terrible would ya have done in thirty-two years t’ do this? Or do I have t’ give ya my whole talk on th’ moral bullshit a’ God?” He’s not sure what makes him think to situate himself on the other’s lap, straddling him to keep their proximities close and their words closer. Mickey makes a mental note to thank the dealer for that, later. “I have killed so many people.” He says, barely audible. He expects disgust, anger, disdain. Something to prove him terrible and unknowable. But, receives a hold in return, forehead against his in quiet contemplation and the general quiet mutter of “Me, too”. “So, is this the terrible bastard’s club?” Cassidy asks, still not letting go. “Cause if it is, we should make membership badges with why we’re goin’ t’ Hell.” The joke gets a small laugh, wandering hands trailing down the scars until he reaches one, still raw and pink.   “Clipped me with a butterfly knife a little before you got here,” Mickey admits, sheepishly. “If by clipped, we’re talking about how she gouged me in the stomach until I passed out.” Cassidy makes a noise of what Mickey can only call begrudging dissatisfaction, palming the trace of the wound when he kisses him, hard and defiant before he could add any sort of defense to Scarlett’s action. Mickey would have been shocked, but he finds himself leaning into the attention, sloppy concern feeling worlds better than the memory of death or the tearing of flesh.

The neediness of it only implores Mickey to try harder at fussing with the buttons on the vampire’s shirt, coordination faltering as the hash sets in. The two of them, half undressed and stacked on top of one another and completely sound with themselves in the quiet.

Too preoccupied to hear the door open, Cassidy moving to lay Mickey out on the bed in a fluid motion, the bartender giving a quiet woof of impress behind the move and the much lankier vampire pinning him to the bed. The door clicks shut, and the loud sucking of teeth permeates the room behind the incoherent muttering between the two.

“Oh, don’t mind me. I’ve just come to steal your bong.” Scarlett announces as she skirts across the room, digging through a closet who’s doors had long since been removed and replaced with a heinously tacky bead and macrame curtain. Mickey freezes, deer in headlights and practically mute. Cassidy, however, doesn’t take to the interruption with any measure of kindness. He stays almost too close to Mickey, an impulse to act like an inhuman shield between them.

“Go blow th’ owner of the smoke shop across th’ street, maybe.” He says, venom apparent. Scarlett turns around; glass tube in hand. Her expression feigns a sense of hurt before the grin comes.

“Oh, you’re a bold little fucker,” She says, waving the bong at the two of them. “Mickey, keep him leashed, I would really hate to have to blow your pet’s brains out.”

Mickey stays frozen, head falling to the side to stare long and hard at Scarlett, in a foggy sense of understanding. His hands stay firmly clasped around the back of Cassidy’s neck, a physical instruction to just stay put, motherfucker.

“There’s more weed in the nightstand,” Mickey says, unblinking.

Scarlett laughs, self-assured as she swipes the remaining drugs from the nightstand, smiling wide at the others on the bed, making note of the scar she had so recently gifted him.

“Glad to see you both finally got a room, crackheads.”

She leaves, as loudly as she entered, Mickey sighing heavy relief as he stares at the slow rotation of the ceiling fan.  

“You gotta just play nice,” He says, passively. “She did me at least one decent favor.”

“Favor?” Cassidy asks, incredulous. “She beats your bloody brains in just ‘cause she feels like ya deserve it. That’s not a favor, ‘s just miserable service.”

“Nah, like- she did me at least one solid,” Mickey says, looking back to him. “I mean, I think it’s pretty good.”

“What’s good about gettin’ kicked t’ shite by a demon in a wig?”

“I mean, we get to do this whole immortal thing together, right? That’s something.”

A beat between them, before a wheezing, resigned laugh.

That would be enough, Mickey thinks.

That justifies it, just enough.

[bakjacconsulting-blog]

Could Social Anxiety be Related To Character?

As a Psychologist, I am always considering new ways to approach the assistance I provide to clients. I often find anxiety and more specifically social anxiety an issue which impacts many and from time to time we can all experience different levels of these symptoms.

It was therefore with great interest that I reviewed this recent article from Ryan Niemiec in Psychology Today about the potential relationship between social anxiety and character strengths.

Take it away Ryan:

When you hear the phrase "social anxiety",” you probably think of negative-oriented words like fearful, scared, and afraid. Mental health professionals who diagnose social anxiety disorder will look for a “persistent social fear,” “fear of performance situations,” “fear of being around new people,” "fear of embarrassing oneself,” and a “fear of being criticised by others.”

These represent a deficit-based approach—it is exclusively looking at what's wrong or weak. This is an unbalanced approach, yet still remains the mainline approach used in psychology and counselling and across the medical field in general.

Is this the only way to look at social anxiety?

A new study says, “No.” One of the important findings to emerge from the science of character is that not only do human beings have 24 character strengths that boost well-being but that these strengths are not always used to our benefit. It is possible to overuse any of your character strengths. For example, if you use too much curiosity by asking your shy colleague one too many questions, they might start to view you as nosey and bothersome. Conversely, you can underuse your character strengths. For example, if you never give money to an important work charity, year after year, your colleagues might come to view you as low in generosity or underusing your strength of kindness.

Back to social anxiety disorder. How might the underuse and overuse of character strengths be operating here?

Pavel Freidlin and Hadassah Littman-Ovadia, and I investigated this question. We developed a new test called Overuse, Underuse, Optimal-Use (OUOU) Survey of Strengths and gave it to people with and without a social anxiety disorder. While there were many interesting findings, one in particular stuck out to me. It turns out a unique combination of six overuses/underuses of strengths could be used to identify people with the disorder from those without (with over 87% accuracy!). This is the first actual study of character strength overuse/underuse to be published.

Here are the six overuses/underuses, along with an explanation of why they are relevant to social anxiety (they are not listed in any order of importance):

1.) Overuse of social intelligence

What it means: You are analysing your thoughts and feelings too much. You might also be quick to over-analyse the intentions and actions of others.

How this relates to social anxiety: You are probably giving extra attention to your nervousness and worry and less attention to more balanced thoughts and other feelings (such as excitement, interest, and hope). For example, you might see a hand gesture or expression on someone’s face and come to an immediate conclusion that they are thinking something negative about you.

2.) Overuse of humility

What it means: You have little interest in talking about yourself or any of your accomplishments. When people praise you for doing something good, you feel uncomfortable and awkward and say little to nothing.

How this relates to social anxiety: Humility is an important strength and can have social benefits. However, too much humility in certain situations can lead to depriving others of learning about you. If people can’t learn about you, it’s hard for them to connect with you, which can subsequently contribute to sub-optimal social situations.

3.) Underuse of zest

What it means: If others perceive you as coming across without even a moderate amount of energy, you might be perceived as uninterested or lacking in enthusiasm. Zest is one of the character strengths most connected with happiness, so in some situations, you might even come across as “unhappy.”

How this relates to social anxiety: In order to contribute to social situations, you need to express energy. If you are bringing forth too little of energy, you won’t contribute as much. This underuse feeds your “avoidance” mechanism which is a problem because "avoidance of fear" is a hallmark feature of all types of anxiety. Socially anxious people avoid what they are afraid of, which further perpetuates the cycle of anxiety. Underuse of zest feeds this process.

4.) Underuse of humour

What it means: In some social situations, you are especially serious and don't smile, joke, laugh, or see the lighter side of things. While that might be appropriate behaviour at times, there are situations where humour is particularly important—take, for example, socializing with friends or co-workers at a restaurant.

How this relates to social anxiety: Socially, humour and playfulness are kings (or queens). People generally want to be around funny or playful people. They want to laugh and have a good time. If you underuse humour in social situations, you are essentially eliminating one of the main pathways to connecting and socializing with others.

5.) Underuse of social intelligence

What it means: You are not particularly attuned to your own feelings or the feelings of others. You pay little attention to social cues, body language, or the circumstances of the social situation you are in.

How this relates to social anxiety: Social situations often require a subtle and nuanced level of awareness of feelings and circumstance. People unaware of their own feelings, unable to speak appropriately to those feelings, unaware of how others might be feeling, or unaware of how to query and discuss others’ feelings are at a significant disadvantage. Furthermore, those who sense this reality within themselves are prone to feel more anxious about this disconnect. People with social anxiety may also misinterpret cues or misread body language, further contributing to the problem.

6.) Underuse of self-regulation

What it means: You have some difficulties in managing your reactions to others or in managing your feelings or personal habits. You may come across as lacking discipline (in your speech and behaviour).

How this relates to social anxiety: The best social interactions involve a balanced back and forth of questioning, sharing, and communicating. If your self-regulation is particularly low in these situations, you may appear insensitive to others. This can impact the interaction and contribute to anxiety.

Taking action:

1.) The first step is awareness. If you or someone you know suffers from social anxiety, what is it like for you (or for them) to look at anxiety in this way? The best course of action with this new research is to reflect on how you might be overusing or underusing these particular character strengths in social situations. This will lead you to new insights and ideas for taking action.

2.) Think about social anxiety from the lens of overuse and underuse. This does not mean you have to get rid of deficit-based thinking or attending to symptoms and other parts that feel “wrong” about you. Instead, you now have an empowering language and a new lens for looking at this challenge.

Caveats:

There are different subtypes of social anxiety disorder that have not been addressed in this article. These are quite wide-ranging, for example, there are social fears involving eating in restaurants, giving presentations, and using public restrooms, to name a few. Thus, the overuse/underuse of these character strengths will need to be adapted accordingly.

Remember, this is a new study so it is important to have these findings replicated in additional studies. If these findings above are also found in future research, this could lead to new treatment approaches to this relatively common and painful condition.

Check out the full article here.

Want to know more about gaining strategies to understand your character strengths. Send me an email at michelle@bakjacconsulting.com to enquire about building your potential to maximise and manage your strengths.

Michelle Bakjac is an experienced Psychologist, Wellbeing Strategist, Coach, Speaker and Facilitator. As Director of Bakjac Consulting, she is a credentialed Coach with the International Coach Federation (ICF) and a member of Mental Toughness Partners and an MTQ48 accredited Mental Toughness practitioner. Michelle assists individuals and organisations to develop their Mental Toughness to improve performance, leadership, behaviour and wellbeing. You can find her at www.bakjacconsulting.com or michelle@bakjacconsulting.com