#mind change

[warping-realities]

Online Scam - An OnlyFags Story

Inspired by the concept created by @johnbrand and @boysmentfs

Henry wasn’t having a good day; hell, it wasn’t even a good week or month. He had been stoked for college, ready to hit up new places and live it up, but the truth was that everything was turning into a total shitshow. His roommate was barely tolerable and he hadn’t made a single friend yet. All of this was messing with his head. But what really got to him was being totally broke, not having a dime to his name. His dad sent him a bit of cash, still stuck between being proud of having a son in college and feeling ashamed that son was openly gay. Henry, a name picked by his late mother, who passed down her delicate traits both physically and mentally, knew his dad earned that money busting his ass as a mechanic at a big car shop, and it didn’t come in large amounts, but surely he could send more than the pathetic little sum he was sending. The young man wondered if he’d get more cash if he had a sports scholarship instead of one for his grades.

While hunting for a side gig that could hook him up with some cash, Henry got blindsided by a new message alert on his computer screen. It wasn’t just the message itself; it was who it was from. Larry Thomas was in charge of the more complex systems at the car company where Henry’s dad worked. He was a relatively new hire, and Henry’s dad didn’t get along with the guy at all, with Henry only knowing him from the last company holiday party, since Henry’s dad didn’t want a “degenerate faggot” near his son. The irony of the situation was lost on the old man.

“Hey, kid, I heard your dad telling the guys he cut your funds to force you to man up or whatever. Maybe this will help you scrape together some cash!” the message from the man said, along with a link. Feeling like he had nothing to lose and pissed off at his dad, who he was now sure was punishing him for being gay, Henry clicked the link, which immediately started downloading some kind of app.

“Shit, I hope this ain’t a virus,” he muttered in front of the computer screen.

After loading, a logo popped up at the top: OnlyFags. What the hell was that? Some kind of joke from Larry? Did he team up with Henry’s dad just to humiliate him? Nah, that didn’t make sense; they hated each other. Still, Henry had caught a few looks from Larry directed at his dad that made him think there was some kinda unrequited attraction there… Before he could do anything, a text box popped up asking “Are you a creator or a user?” followed by two more boxes for a username and password. Henry’s computer acted on its own, typing in a sequence so fast he couldn’t read anything that was written or checked. The screen froze for a moment, a spinning circle indicating something was loading, and soon a bunch of boxes appeared on the screen with various profiles.

A massive shock hit Henry with what those profiles showed. He stared in horror and disgust at what they displayed. Mostly dudes between twenty and forty years old with their bodies on full display, playing with pierced nipples, licking feet, or even getting off in plain sight! He moved the mouse, intending to close that crap and delete that app from his computer ASAP.

But fear took over as, instead of shutting down that damn app, the mouse pointer moved on its own to click the profile button in the opposite corner of the screen. The screen loaded again, and there was a profile filled out for him— name, age, height, weight, shoe size, and even dick size. All of it wildly different from reality. A warning popped up quickly: “Your profile picture is outdated! Would you like to take a new one?”

A sudden wave of even greater horror washed over Henry as his hand clicked “yes.” The front camera opened, and his hand set the timer for twenty seconds before propping it against the headboard of the bed, moving to the other side. Almost robotically, he took off his shirt and tossed it on the floor before adjusting his pose for the camera. He moved, trying to get his foot in the shot while flexing one arm, not realizing he’d gained a bunch of pounds of pure muscle and that his delicate size 7 feet had ballooned to a more robust size 10.

Paralyzed and unable to move, he saw a message pop up on the computer screen. “New photo uploaded! Error!!! Photo does not match profile. Correcting parameters!” Scared, he quickly summoned the last bit of willpower he had and tried to get up and shut that app down once and for all, only to be shoved back by an invisible wall, with all the impact you’d expect from a high-speed crash. Dizzy and confused, he felt his face and body go through a sensation of distortion, and suddenly… nothing! The most complete emptiness reigned in his mind. He didn’t know who he was or even his own name. And he stayed like that for several seconds, staring into the inner void.

Until a new notification appeared on the screen, grabbing his attention. “Success! Parameters corrected; new profile picture published!” Immediately, likes started flooding in on his photo and profile, making him focus on the computer screen just as the computer camera turned on again and a live stream began.

He quickly, almost automatically, repositioned himself, flexing one of the powerful arms he’d just acquired. A notification on the app pinged: “New donation from DirtyFaggotMike.”

The app, once again on its own, opened a list of donations from various users with similar and usernames, ranging from small amounts to hundreds of dollars. Henry felt a rush of pride inside him as memories of all the degrading content about that kind of people and the outrageous amounts of cash received for it flooded his mind!

A new comment appeared in at the top of the page with a $100 donation. “Master, your giant hands turn me on; I’d love to be smothered by them.” Henry found himself talking automatically to the screen: “Keep dreaming, faggot. You’re lucky enough to be able to worship them from a distance!” he replied, grinning arrogantly as he admired his own flexed arm.

A part of Henry still intact, lost in the gigantic void that his memories had become, managed to feel mortified; he didn’t want any of those horrible messages to be received by him, let alone responded to that way. That little remaining fraction tried again to regain control, only to be shoved back as the being occupying his body massaged his powerful pecs and spoke laughing arrogantly while getting up: “Where’s my money, you fags? You won’t get shit from me if this account doesn’t start filling up!”

The next message he received was the reply he’d been waiting for—a private message from LickLuckyLarry. “Master Hunter, I’ve been one of your loyal followers for months and I want to pay a good amount to see you jerk off if it’s not too much audacity on my part.”

Henry… Hunter smiled at that message. With a smirk on his face, he replied, “Disgusting faggot. Of course, it’s a hell of a lot of audacity for a worm like you to ask me that! But it’s you pathetic beings that keep my wallet full. I’m willing to accept, but it’ll depend on how much you’re willing to pay for all this!” he replied, grinning wickedly as his hands roamed over his abs and thighs, tentatively close to his cock.

“Master, please,” the guy replied, “I’d do anything to see you work that giant cock until it explodes with your alpha jizz.”

“Great, let’s talk privately; don’t turn on the camera! I don’t wanna see that faggot face of yours, it’ll be hard enough to jerk off knowing a worm like you is watching! And as for the rest of you, take note, faggots, you should all aspire to be like him.”

He leaned forward and closed the live window, before before lying down in his bed and focusing on talking privately in his smartphone with the guy willing to pay to see him play with his own cock. “I said I didn’t wanna see that pathetic face of yours, faggot,” he said upon seeing the man’s face appear on the app chat screen.

“Sorry, Master Hunter, I couldn’t help it; I promise to pay you a much bigger sum, but I wanted to know if you remember me?”

“And why the hell would I remember a pathetic faggot like you?” Hunter asked with a wicked grin.

“Because I work with your dad and… you… you let me suck your cock at the last company holiday party!”

“And? You’re not the first little bitch I’ve let do that! There’s no shame in showing off a bit or even letting one of you kind pay for a blowjob in the absence of something better. And that whore secretary didn’t want to give me any… Anyway, don’t think you’ll get a discount just because you know my old man, and if you try to blackmail me, I’ll use these weapons to smother you in a way way different from what that other faggot wanted!”

“No, Master Hunter… it’s not that… it’s just that you look so much like your dad! You’re a twenty-years-younger copy of him… I… I’ll pay you a bigger sum… but can you refer to yourself as Master Rusty while you jerk off?”

“So you have a fetish for my old man, huh? You sick fuck! But I’m cool with that! Just keep that ugly mug off the screen and don’t you dare talk to me while I do what needs to be done!”

“Thanks, Master Rusty… just one more thing, that mustache you’re growing makes you look even more like your dad… if I may be so bold, I’d say you should keep it.”

“I’ve allowed too much boldness, you worm. Now let’s wrap this up. Camera off,” Hunter said as he laid back on the bed, the camera aimed at him.

“So you want a piece of old Rusty, huh? You little shit?” Hunter teased, while Henry’s little voice tried to fight against the wave of mockery and arrogance filling his mind.

“A new chance to suck that cock? Only in your dreams.” He continued, with vivid memories of orgies with various women and dozens of live streams and videos for desperate gay guys into humiliation flooding his mind.

“You can look and admire, you can worship me from a distance, but this here, this here you’ll never have again pathetic faggot,” he concluded before exploding with a huge load that covered his entire abdomen.

“Thanks for the grand, loser.”

He ended the call and saved a copy of the video showing only the upper part of his body, teasing the release the full presentation for his fans after they donated a good chunk of cash.

As he lay back down, distracted, thinking about the bizarre situation with a coworker of his dad’s and what Old Rusty would think if he found out where the money supporting his son extravagant lifestyle and his monthly allowances was coming from. In that moment of distraction what remained of Henry inside him made one last attempt to surface, somehow managing to miraculously regain a bit of control. Thinking about how to fix this, Henry looked at his body; however, he seemed… normal. His enormous size 15 feet were giving off a potent funk as always. His well-developed calves giving way to tree trunk thighs, while hanging between them was his pride, his massive 10-inch cock, with which he toyed a bit before continuing his investigation. His abs were chiseled like an 8-brick wall, and just above them were the two slabs of flesh that were his pecs. He grabbed his phone and opened the camera, seeing his face; indeed, a near-exact copy of his dad’s face, square and masculine. The overall impression was one of arrogance and disdain, which precisely defined his personality.

He dropped the phone and smiled, satisfied, as he rested his head on his powerful arms. “Damn, Hunter, you’re one hot piece of ass,” he said to himself. “These faggots will never get tired of you,” he concluded, knowing that with a body and a cock like his, money would never be a problem.

Hundreds of miles away from Hunter’s dorm, Larry was finishing up his third or fourth jerk-off session, this time looking at the gif that served as Hunter’s profile picture on the app. That, he thought, was the best decision he’d ever made, seeing the perfect copy of Rusty that Hunter had become, a copy willing to treat him in the degrading way he’d dreamed for months that his dad would do. As he reached orgasm, remembering all the insults and humiliations, he wondered to himself if there was a chance that the son of one of the other coworkers would fall into the same trap; well, it wouldn’t hurt to try, especially if the reward was as delicious as Hunter.

[slyratex]

DUMB

I had always been a smart guy. IQ 180, an all As student, summa cum laude graduate, one of the youngest scientists in my faculty.

That is, until I was challenged by one of the jocks from my old school to listen to his favourite song. I had always looked down onto him for his simple taste in music and now he dared me to listen to it without giving in to the beat. ‚You cant judge what you don‘t know, right? That‘d be so stupid!‘, he mocked me when I hesitated, not knowing what I could gain from listening to something else than Mozart or Vivaldi.

I couldn‘t leave this challenge without reply, so I took the bet and listened to that tune of some guy called ‚Timmy Trumpet‘. https://youtu.be/D4m737SW2yc?si=upG5zB5Y_HKoKA9y After just one second I knew I hated this style of music. But I had to keep going to not lose the bet, so I decided to just endure this test.

‚I play my games, you work away the day! You’re blowing up your brains for something smart to say!‘

Yes, that‘s me.

‚But I don’t wanna know it, rather focus on the fun!‘

Yes, that‘s him.

‚So you can go ahead and call me dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb!‘

I‘d definitely do that.

‚Dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb!‘

Did they have to repeat it so often? I just counted 26 times! Well, I think that‘s because the typical audience of that supposed ‚artist‘ can‘t memorise more lyrics than that. But just as I was thinking that, an image of said artist flashed before my eyes, looking at me as if he was swearing revenge for insulting him.

‚But I don’t wanna know it rather focus on the fun! So you can go ahead and call me dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb!‘

34! I caught my feet going with the beat and instantly stopped it. No chance he was winning this bet!

‚Dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb!‘

55! I suddenly felt like I had forgotten something. But I couldn‘t figure out what it was.‘

‚Call me dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb!‘

76! I recognised that strange feeling was connected to a drop. A drop? A drop of what? A drop of temperature? No, it was actually getting rather hot and I felt the urge to pull of my shirt.‘

‚Call me dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb!‘

97! Was it the beat dropping? Hell, yeah! Timmy Trumpet always dropped the beat like a pro! I didn‘t even know what dropping the beat meant, being new to all this, but who cared?

‚Call me dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb!‘

118! I suddenly realised what was dropping, but it was too late. With every ‚dumb‘, my IQ was dropping down! Something told me it had to be… like… half a point per repetition? Damn, that sounded like math… how many ‚dumb’s had there been? Divided by two… damn, this is hard… and subtracted from… and… 121!?! That‘s barely scratching the mark for being highly intelligent! Come on, this has to be a bad joke!

‚I’m just a jerk in the world of the dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb!‘

123. A jerk. One, two, three. Just a jerk. Yeah, these are numbers I can work with. A jerk in the world of the dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb. I couldn‘t stop going along with the lyrics while my old class mate smiled at me like a silly jerk.

‚I’ve got a worth in the world of the dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb!‘

128 ‚dumb’s and my IQ dropped down to 114, only one standard deviance over average. No, I can‘t let him do that to me! I’m special! I have a worth in the world of the smart and educated! I‘ve got inventions to create and discoveries to make!

‚I won’t be the one you want!‘

Right!

‚If you can’t be one with dumb!‘

Oh, damn! I have to be one with dumb! Wait, that doesn‘t even make sense grammatically!‘

‚Cause I’m just a jerk in the world of the dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb!‘

134! Ha! One, three, four! Haha! Did I forget one number? Hahaha! Who cares? I‘m just a jerk!

Suddenly I found myself singing out loud along with the song:

‚I play my games you work away the day! You’re blowing up your brains for something smart to say!‘

Stupid nerds wasting their time with work and learning when there are weights to be lifted, parties to be held, holes to be filled!

‚But I don’t wanna know it rather focus on the fun!‘

They‘re the stupid ones. I‘m the genius, because I don‘t waste time trying to be one!

‚So you can go ahead and call me dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb!

And my jerk bro joined in, both of us jumping and partying like idiots:

‚Dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb! But I don’t wanna know it rather focus on the fun! So you can go ahead and call me dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb!‘

169! Hahaha! 69! So good! I laughed. I didn’t even know why. I just had fun. I didn’t even count anymore. And the beat dropped, and my IQ dropped, all down to 95, and we dropped our shirts and showed off our jock bodies. And while all of it dropped down, Timmy Trumpet bowed down, as an artist having finished another masterpiece.

And I bowed down in front of him, thanking him, laying my drained out IQ points to the ground before him, giving my life to him to never have any goals again than getting swole and partying half naked to his great songs.

‚Call me dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb!‘

And as the song faded, my favourite song from my favourite artist, my thoughts faded into simplicity, my IQ settling at a comfy 85, one standard deviance below average, right before the beginning of a light learning disability. Not that I was interested in complex stuff like that anymore. Or even able to comprehend it. All I knew was that I had reached the jerk spot, that sweet spot right between your everyday stupidity and concerning imbecility, where I was still able to manage my daily routine and training plans, but was assured to get a headache from hard stuff like… doing equations and reading science stuff. So I think I‘ll make sure to stay far away from that shit from now on!

I put the song on repeat to make my IQ click into place and lock it where it was to make sure I‘d never lose that silly happiness and fun a jerk like me enjoyed. And I proudly sang along:

‚Call me dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb!‘

[transformation4life]

Army, Man

Juan was your average guy before his life was changed forever. Decent grades at his dream college, but no friends to speak of. So when he received a letter to join the US army in his assigned mailbox Juan was very confused. "The army? They must joking." Juan spoke as he looked at the recruitment flyer in his dorm room.

Juan and being enlisted in the army sounded like a twisted joke to him. He was scrawny and could barely do one pushup in gym class. Either way, Juan noticed a number at the bottom of the flyer in big bold letters and some voice in his head was nagging at him to call it.

"I guess it wouldn't hurt. Maybe it'll be fun! Who knows!" So Juan grabbed his phone and dialed the number.

Some rings later and it sounded like a guy picked a phone. "Hey there, Name's Gruff, I'm assuming you're calling cause of the flyer you got in the mail, yeah?" Gruff's was deep and masculine. Definitely Juan's type but I bet he was straight.

"Y-Yeah! I thought I'd give it a shot since it's not like I got anything better to do!"

"That's the spirit man! Our army count has been real low due to... events so even one guy joining is great! But first I just need to ask you a few questions..." "A-Alright. Go on ahead..." Juan had to wonder what they would ask. "First question! Are you sure you want to join the army?" Gruff's tone was dead serious on this one and it shook Juan up a bit. "U-Uh... Yeah!" Juan was too far in to quit now at least that was his reasoning.

"Wonderful! Next question. How muscular are you?"

Juan frowned. As mentioned before, he barely had muscle and never went to the gym. Still, he felt the need to answer honestly.

"N-Not really sir. Sorry." "Haha don't worry about it! Alright that's all see you soon!" Gruff hung up before Juan could even say bye.

Juan was a bit shaken but that wasn't too bad. Juan pondered the interaction and something hit him. "Wait... I didn't tell him my address and he said he'll see me soo-" A wave of pain immediately hit Juan and he fell to the floor.

It wasn't before long Juan's body began to grow and get more muscular. Juan's arms became much beefier as his biceps were the size of sports balls. Six perfect abs popped onto Juan's stomach as his nonexistent chest began to inflate and become thick poppable pecs as his back expanded to support his new musculature making his tshirt real tight. Soon after, Juan's neck got thicker as his adam's apple was now ever more prominent than before as he gained some facial hair around his mouth. Juan's legs were next to grow as his thighs became much larger and his legs more defined as feet increased some sizes. Luckily Juan wasn't wearing any shoes but Juan's socks definitely didn't survive the growth. Some more minor changes appeared like a bigger dick and Juan's body aging physically. It's a miracle none of Juan's clothes ripped apart but it's not like it mattered anyway as Juan's apparel began to change.

Juan's graphic tee became more tough material and more generic as it became a dark green. It was still tight around Juan's figure though. Next up was Juan's pants as it gained a camouflage pattern and became cargo pants. A belt magically appeared and looped around the belt holes of his news pants as well as an army hat wrapping around Juan's head. Juan's socks were stitched back together and went a dark black and suddenly army boots were now being worn by Juan. The last change was an army tag appearing around Juan's neck saying "Juan Graham". Juan was now the definition of a buff army man.

Once the pain subsided and Juan regained his bearings he readjusted his glasses and looked at the mirror nearby. "What the- WHAT THE FU- Oh god, my voice... my EVERYTHING!" Juan was amazed but also scared. He gained muscles in seconds but how?

And before Juan could question things further, Juan's phone rang once again. Juan saw that it was the army recruit number. He concluded they must be involved so he answered the call.

"Hey Juan, ready for your first day?" It was Gruff again "First day? You did this to me, didn't you?"

"Not sure what you mean, but you agreed to join the army and we need you now." "But I don't even know anything about how to do anythin-" One more sound of pain hit Juan as memories of years of military training and gym workouts filled his mind. Everything he could ever need to be in the army was now in his brain. Juan now much more confident started a new sentence. "Nevermind. When does the car get here?"

"That's our Juan! Should be there soon. You can walk out and wait already." "Perfect. See you soon." Juan hung up and left his dorm and old life behind. It was probably for the best anyway. He much preferred being a beefcake army man than some twink in college.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------- Apologies for not posting for a couple months. I got major writer's block but here's a story for you guys hope you like it!

[butterscotchpiesandguys]

Acting The Part

I was a film student, that means I had to play a lot of roles. Mostly, however, I remained the one behind the cameras. Why? Well it was simply because I was pretty humble... in my own words, others would call me shy and reserved.

I had a project coming up, a final film for the semester. Had to be within the genre we were working for an unfortunately for me that was romance. I was not good with romance, obviously of course. I was shy. So... that was why I partnered up with a few buddies, Chris, Tony, Danielle, and Skylar. It was an optional group project due to how big it was. Unfortunately one guy who was left out was Brian. A total douche, called himself a sigma and everything. Totally full of himself.

Saw himself being the star too, always was in the movies... although with his ripped abs, jawline, and general physique... it was obvious why he thought he would be in the group... so we started scripting. It went well at first, that was until Brian started butting in. Asked if his girlfriend could be the love interest. This was supposed to be a group project and so we said no, Danielle would be covering that part. He whined about it until Skylar came up to me to ask something. "Do we need Brian here?" He asked softly, so he didn't actually hear. He was off arguing with Tony again, Go figure.

"Well... I did have an idea..." I admitted. Of course this idea was also a bit rude. We would simply do the script without him. Meetup some times, make excuses. It worked for a while until he started to get suspicious. He was stupid but he wasn't that stupid.

About a week into scripting, everything was coming out well. We almost had it done and we even had a role for Brian! Now we weren't going to tell him until the day of, and seeing how he needed this for a good grade... he'd have to go along with it. Well that was what I thought until he stopped me on the way to a class. "Hey [Y/N], how's it hangin." He put his hand beside my head as I leaned against the wall. He asked a simple question, quite friendly too... if it wasn't for his threatening tone. "Been a while, started to think my film partner died. That would have been bad." He chuckled and let up a bit. "Why don't we talk about the script for a bit. "I uh..." I tried to speak up but he put his hand on my back as he walked me away from the class I had next.

"You say somethin? No? Okay well good, we're goin someplace nice and comfortable." He started to walk me out of the building and through the campus. Some people stared at us, I mean a star football player and some film student would draw some eyes. Eventually we got to the bleachers of the football stadium. It was super empty and due to Brian having a part time job cleaning the place he had keys.

We sat down on some metal bleachers near the announcer's box and he had me get out my laptop. "So, run me through the script. Last I heard I was going to be the star?" He smirked a bit. This would be hard to break.

"Well uh... I'll just uh... we made some changes but everything's still very flexible!" I tried to assure him. I started at where it would begin, a nerd getting bullied. The bully was played by... Brian. he wasn't too happy but was willing to hear me out. Then I went through the story slower, more cautiously to not offend the giant oaf. Stuff about the nerds banding together... having a fun time and ultimately the nerd getting the nerdy chick. Danielle was supposed to play the nerdy girl, Skylar wanted to be the main character. I would be the camera man and director. Brian looked annoyed. "So... this sucks."

"Wait what? What about it sucks? Is it just because you're not the main star? You know what'd be weird." I tried to fight back. It was partially my script.

"Lemme guess, your buddy Skylar wrote a lot of it." I looked down and did have to agree... so I nodded, Skylar was a great writer though! "Look man, I know you don't like being in front of the camera and stuff but this might be your last little movie, why not have fun with it? How is this fair to you at all?" Wait was Brian sticking up for me?

"I uh... I guess it's not... But I don't really like being the star." I looked at the bigger guy who was now being oddly nice.

He sighed. "Yeah, and I'm not sayin you have to be. I mean you gave me a pretty raw deal." Brian looked oddly sad.

I was always the one to make peace... god damn it... would I really do this? I had to... "Well uh... what would you propose to change that stuff?" I asked, nervous to what he would propose.

"Well, here's my idea. We swap some roles around. Make it better for all of us. Skylar can run the camera this time, he always gets to be in front of it." I nodded, Skylar could be a competent camera man... "Glad you agree, then I can take his role as a nerd and you can be the rival... hell maybe you can get your own babe out of it."

"Wait, what?" I looked at the big guy confused. Him? The nerd? No way. And me as the rival? How the hell would I do that? "I don't think that'll work. I mean we should cast for what we're good at and..."

Brian cut me off, "Yeah and I'm pretty nice, right?" I looked at him, he was looking me right in the eyes. I nodded, not wanting to be rude. "Exactly! So I should be given the chance to play a fun nice guy!" His smile was reassuring but I still had issues.

"Yeah but I really don't think people will buy me as a douchebag..." I sighed and scratched my head. It was true. I was smaller, weaker, and dorky as hell.

"Well, sure, right now you don't but trust me! I got some ideas that can help you! But it's what someone would call... method acting. Probably heard of it."

"That sounds like a dumb idea, I'll be honest. I mean... that'll just get me bullied.... more than usual at least." I sighed, feeling like this was going nowhere.

"Nah, trust me bro. I mean if you stick with me I'll vouch."

"But I barely have any classes with you aside from film related ones." I looked a bit confused. How would that work.

"Well here's the deal. I can talk to my professors, tell them you wanna do some stuff and I'm sure with a little flexing of my status... we can get you in for the few more weeks or months we have left of class this semester. It's not gonna be much, mister straight As." He was going to do that for me?

"I guess... I could see how this goes... I could use a break before my other finals..." I chuckled a bit nervously, which made him pat my back, almost flinging me out of my seat.

"There we go! Here's my phone number and..." He grabbed my phone and put his number and contacts in, "We should be good to go, send me a link to the script btw! Gotta work on that thing!

That night I sent him the link, and felt oddly nervous about this. I mean... it was like starting a whole new life! I hadn't been in front of the cameras in a while so that would be nerve racking too! Brian's advice was to "Not think about it." Seemed he could go his whole life without thinking about much.

The next day we spent working out, and working on attitude. His girlfriend Tori came over during some of it and Brian said it would be a great time to practice confidence. I didn't nail it. He had a good laugh though and she took it in stride. Overall a good Saturday.

The day after that we worked on some more muscle, while also just hanging out again... this time some of his douchey friends came over. He was saying this was both confidence and some experience training. Like being in job training. Eventually I somewhat grew accustomed to them. They all were charismatic and handsome too. I felt oddly at home near some of them, hell I even threw some insults back at them when they came my way. I wasn't great at it yet.

Day three of this shit and I was now walking around with Brian and his little group. Seemed most of them had the same classes. I got stopped in the hall though by a classmate. He tried to direct me to class but... as per a whispered instruction... I mocked him and his shit haircut. After classes we worked out, seemed like this was something I had to do... Brian and Tanner, one of Brian's friends who was more in on it, said this was to make me not sound like a dork when referencing sports and shit. Good reason...

My the next week I was already feeling the burn. Skylar and the others were a bit pissed at me for blowing off our group meetings for hangouts with Brian and his crew. I told him I was method acting and he should get off my case. Well he didn't take it too well. "Well maybe you should stop being in our fucking shit if you like Brian that much!" That was a bad insult.

I yelled back. "Well, maybe if you didn't try to hog the limelight all the time I wouldn't be doing this shit!" It kind of just came out of me. For some reason... Skylar looked a bit... weaker and smaller than me. "Besides, not like you could even carry a movie with that fuckin acne." I may have went too far, he looked pissed and I felt awful. He stormed off leaving me alone...

I had a party that night, at the frat. Brian noticed me looking down the entire time. Came to comfort me. "Bro, trust me. He deserved it. I mean he's always been pushing you back and the moment you try and get out there and have fun he tries to put you back down? Not cool, you know that."

"Yeah but... I don't wanna fuck shit up with my friends and all that." I said with a red solocup in my hand.

"Well... maybe you're better off without them. I mean the only one I see potential in is maybe Danielle." I nodded.

"Yeah, Tony is a nobody, Skylar is a pussy... And I was both. Still feel bad for Danielle." I had a crush on her before.

"Well don't go around pussyfooting. I'm sure we can change the script and as her to method act too! I mean how much fun has it been for you, Oliver."

"Oliver?" I laughed and looked at Brian, "Why'd you call me that?"

"Oh! Well I had an idea. Just a small one. I mean why not go by your character's name? You are supposed to be method acting!"

"Yeah... Oliver... that... works well." I smiled. I mean I did look like an Oliver now... or at least the character! I didn't know how but in retrospect god my body was wimpy. Now I looked fire as hell!

The next few days would be painfully awkward. Skylar would try and salvage the script, much to the annoyance of Brian and I. There were two sides clashing and I knew which one sounded better, Skylar was just doing this for himself. Eventually Brian and I started a secret document, included Danielle in there too. Got them over Discord on a call to talk about the newer idea. By now we had enough of the nice guy act. Brian thought it was way too soft... he pitched the new idea. "Why don't we, instead of doing whatever that little soy boy wants, do our own thing. Like... Why don't we do something where the bullies got some character."

Danielle was hesitant. "Well what about the others? And what would my role be?"

I had an answer already. "Well we need a camera man and Tony, by far, is the best of Skylar and him. I mean I could do it but I've worked pretty hard."

"[Y/N]..." Danielle sighed, She was getting tired of this.

"Dani, it's Oliver or Ollie. I'm taking it pretty serious as you can see." I smiled. into the webcam which I never used before... hell my whole profile changed. Near daily pics of me were my banner and icon instead of some anime boy.

Brian nodded a bit. "So, we want you in this film too Dani, you're a great actress but we want you to practice your new role. You'll be Ollie's bitchy GF, like a mean girl kinda thing."

"But that isn't...." She got cut off by me again.

"Look, Dani... I know it ain't your style but this isn't mine either. To be a star you have to make sacrifices, and playing the part is the thing. I already asked and Tori can help you get into role. And hey, we can hang more if you do... I mean if you want my place is pretty open." It was an invite to fuck. By now I was still a virgin, even if Brian tried to change that many times.

"Okay..." She finally agreed. Thank god this was getting annoying.

Eventually we got our crew together. Some guys from the soccer team for scrawnier nerds, some guys from Brian's crew to be our friends and... Danielle was coming along fine. My type had shifted a bit, especially now that I could have options... they were molding her real nicely.

Skylar soon got wind of our plan but by now it was too late to stop. I was getting ready for the first day of filming. I had my body in peak performance, all done up by one of Tori's friends. And he came over to yell at me. Not congratulate me. By this point I just had Alex, one of Brian and I's friends walk him off the little set we staged. Students would be happy to actually get in this film. I mean we were big stars around campus and we knew it.

People loved how I changed. I became a star. I mean... with my now blonde hair, scuffy facial hair, ripped abs, giant body... who wouldn't. Brian helped me realize something. I was made to be in front of the cameras. I was made to be a star. Danielle would realize that in time too.

As for the filming... it went spectacular. We all got great grades, hell... we started helping Tony out with getting better himself! I mean... we'd need it if we wanted to make more of these. It was a fun parody film... even if it was meant to be serious. The audience didn't get it but whateves. Wasn't my problem. I just didn't have to think too hard about it.

Within months I asked out Danielle, she said yes... of course. We became a new power couple. I urged her to join a sports team like I was doing. I started football like Brian. We did well as a team... also started power lifting and by god I was great! Danielle did gymnastics and by god was she flexible. Eventually I had my name changed. I was welcomed into Brian's family pretty easily too... so I adopted his last name. We were the Greene brothers.... started small with acting and sports but soon, through some modeling and commercials... we started getting big.

As for Skylar... who knows what became of that no name wannabe. He didn't take his shot. Maybe if he was more eager he could have ended up as a male model like Tony. Eh, not my problem. I just played my part and helped everyone around me. That's what being a star is for... you play your part and you like it... And I love it.

[debora-goth]

look at a point that catches the eye and that you choose. for a few minutes.

By Debora

[magicalgardenofhypnosis]

My Favorite Toy

“Hey Henry! Over Here”

“Oh! Can I help you?”

He is hit with a blast of light coming from my camera the flash stuns him as he stood still in the middle of the street.

“Thank you! I’ll take it from here”

“YES SIR!”

“Into the car Henry”

“Wwwwwaaaaaaahhhh”

“NOW!”

“Yes Sir”

“Do you love me?”

“Yes”

“Of course you do”

“Driver let’s go”

“Yes sir “

“We have time to keep “

“Kiss me! Henry”

“Yes Sir”

“Mean it, love me and show me”

“Oh God!”

“You feel so good”

“You are gay”

“No I’m not”

“Yes you are “

“Oh! I am of course “

“Hey babe”

“Sit on my lap”

“You are hot sir”

“Time to fuck”

“Hell yeah sir “

“Fuck me”

The end

[peaceposts]

Eat and drink but do not waste. The world produces enough food to feed billions of people, yet 830+ million people go hungry daily. Hunger is not inevitable but it is always man-made driven by a combination of armed conflict, economic shocks, climate extremes, poverty & inequality.

[sak1]

Charging... /充電中

[chequerootlurks]

I love the additions! This is so informative; thankyou!

[warping-realities]

Where Would You Rather Be? (Redux)

A collaboration with the amazing @johnbrand

“You know I love you, right?” Malcolm reaffirmed to his boyfriend. “And I’m here for you, babe.”

It had been a hell of a week for Shane. He had been living in the city for almost ten years now, moving there for college and then sticking around after graduation. It was a scary transition, but thanks to the quick friends he made, the ride was a bit easier. One of them, Shane’s freshman roommate—who he had lived with and then kept close since they met—got an eviction notice the week before. Shane had been as supportive as he could through the whole mess, but watching his buddy pack up and leave was a real kick in the gut. His friend would now be living hours away, no longer right next door.

Shane nodded his head, followed by a quick “Thanks, babe.”

“I’m happy to be the shoulder you can cry on, I know this sucks” Malcolm sympathized. “Still wanna grab dinner tonight? We can bail on the plans if you need some time.”

“Nah, I’ll be fine,” Shane said with a slight smile. “Plus, it’s our third anniversary—you’ve done more than your fair share, and I’m super grateful for that.”

Malcolm chuckled, quickly snatching Shane from behind. “Then maybe you’ll have to show some gratitude later tonight.”

Rolling his eyes, Shane still returned the passionate kiss from his boyfriend.

That night, he found himself back in his own home. After climbing a few flights of stairs, he was surprised to find his buddy’s old apartment door wide open. Curious, Shane peeked in, and without thinking twice, he stepped into the familiar space, now filled with unknown furniture, boxes, and other random junk scattered around.

Before he could snoop around, a voice from behind barked at him to move aside. “Get outta the way, bro!”

The rich baritone caught Shane so off guard that he jumped a bit, scurrying as a big dude stomped through the doorway before dropping a few boxes. At least six feet tall, the buff, masculine intruder immediately intimidated Shane. Shirtless, barefoot, and rocking some tiny shorts that could easily be mistaken for underwear. Probably due to the effort of hauling all those boxes, the muscular man gave off a strong, manly odor that quickly overwhelmed Shane’s senses. In fact, all of his senses, although he didn’t really realize it. The stranger smiled cockily, sizing Shane up with eyes glinting with mischief before speaking.

“Mind being useful and helping me organize the rest of my stuff?” the man asked. Shane, a bit freaked out by the pure masculinity in front of him, didn’t say a word. The guy didn’t need his response, though, knowing Shane would help him out no matter what. Shane couldn’t explain what came over him; his mouth was just hanging open while cardboard boxes were dumped into his waiting arms.

In minutes, he was soaked in sweat, having to peel off layer after layer of clothing as he helped the stranger organize the apartment. His mind screamed at the absurdity of the situation, yet he kept doing what the man asked him to do like a robot. After an hour of relentless work, the guy, noticing Shane’s drenched clothes, pulled out a change of clothes from one of the boxes still piled in a corner.

“Put these on, thank goodness I wear extra-large, bro, so they should fit your chubby ass!” he said, flexing his muscles and releasing another wave of that masculine musk from his armpits.

Drowsy Shane picked up the clearly unwashed tank top and gym shorts, reeking of that same animal musk but concentrated from days of use. That scent almost made him hurl.

“What are you waiting for, man? Put these on already. We still got work to do.”

Once again, not understanding why, Shane felt compelled to obey, stripping down in front of his new neighbor until he was left only in his underwear. He was already putting on his shorts when the man interrupted him.

“No, man, you gotta let the jewels breathe. Not that they take up much space, from what I can see, but there’s no reason to squeeze the poor things,” he quipped, bursting into laughter, and Shane, even without getting the joke, found himself laughing along. When he was finally dressed in the provided clothes, completely engulfed by the animalistic smell, the man approached him with a grin.

“Back to work, man, a little more exercise and maybe you’ll fill out those clothes just right,” he said with a smirk. Shane just nodded and kept working.

Before he knew it, another two hours had flown by, and the apartment now had a minimally organized look, unlike the previous chaos. The night fully enveloped the dimly lit room.

“Martin,” the mysterious man finally offered his name, alongside a giant meaty hand that crushed Shane’s. “Are you my new neighbor?”

“Uh... yeah,” Shane finally spoke, pointing to the wall their apartments would share.

“Cool, bro,” Martin replied. “Wanna chill on the balcony with me for a bit?”

Shane checked his watch, noting that there was still some time before he had to get ready for his dinner date. “Sure.” Following the muscular alpha outside, Shane took a seat on the wicker couch while waiting for Martin. He did his best to plan out the remaining time he had. Not realizing that the tight outfit now seemed to hang off his body, which in the last few hours had shed a good amount of fat while gaining a little muscle, revealing a face that was somewhere between cute and handsome.

“Sit over there,” Martin directed as he stepped onto the balcony. Shane didn’t think twice about getting up and moving aside so Martin could sit on the couch. It wasn’t until he moved to the other side of the coffee table that Shane realized Martin wanted him to sit on the deck.

“That’s right, faggot. Sit in front of my feet,” Martin said, the friendly smile fading from his face as he propped his giant, smelly feet up on the table.

Shane was shocked, offended by his neighbor’s sudden bigotry. The lame joke about the size of his dick was one thing, but this vocabulary was degrading and... the smell of a full day’s work was coming off those giant boards Martin called feet. And Shane train of thought completely derailed. So he did as he was told, taking his seat in front of the two massive soles placed before him. Somewhat exasperated by the incomprehensible actions he had taken up until that point and anxious not to miss his meeting with his boyfriend, Shane shifted uncomfortably in the awkward spot, to the point that Martin himself noticed.

“You got any plans tonight, fag?” Martin questioned.

In a flustered, embarrassed, and strangely lustful state, Shane answered, “Yeah, I have an anniversary dinner with my boyfriend.”

Martin snickered. “And when is that?”

“I should start getting ready in 10 minutes,” Shane’s response was robotic. “I’ve gotta shower, get dressed, wrap my present, and then travel.”

Martin mulled this over for a bit, relishing the fact that Shane would wait for his next prompt. He was completely overtaken by the scent that wafted from the other man. Martin’s natural musk and body odor held an authority over him like nothing else ever had.

“Let me make you a deal, faggot,” Martin finally said. “You can bounce now, get ready, and have a great night with your loving boyfriend. Or you can stay seated right where you are, at the feet of a straight man, waiting for my next command and finally discover what it’s like to be a real man!”

Shane didn’t reply, shocked by what Martin was insinuating. With casual indifference, Martin wiggled his toes in front of Shane, knowing the silence was already his answer. But in true alpha fashion, Martin made sure to hammer his superiority home.

“Where would you rather be, faggot?” he asked, with his feet releasing another wave of potent funk towards an already completely subdued prey.

They stayed there without saying a word: Martin laid-back, comfortable, and minding his own business, and Shane at his feet. Neither got up as time ticked by. In his head, Shane’s plans slowly morphed. He didn’t need to wrap Malcolm’s present, he didn’t need to shower, he didn’t even need to change. Eventually, the anniversary dinner came and went, and Shane was still at the feet of the straight man.

“Well, now that you’ve made your choice I gotta keep my promise, right, sissy boy? But to be my bro, you gotta become a real man, don’t you, Shotgun?”

“My name is…”

“Shut up, sissy boy. You’ll be able to talk when you’re a man and have a place to sit by my side, not at my feet!”

Imbued by Martin’s potent scent and words of dominance, Shane fell silent.

“I don’t give a damn what you were known for, Shotgun,” Martin retorted, making the smaller man shiver at the sound of that nickname. “I don’t care about your art degree or the lame job you do or the degenerate things you do with your fag boyfriend. And that doesn’t matter to you either, Shotgun, because it’s not real, but what I’m gonna tell you now is that it is real, and your jelly brain is gonna do its best to make it happen.” The man concluded, lifting both arms and releasing the most powerful wave of musk yet, taking Shane... or Shotgun?... what kind of name is that? That didn’t matter, only the wave of nauseating smell that invaded him.

“Take it like a man, Shotgun,” Martin ordered, and he obeyed. “What you’re gonna do is very simple, I want you to think about all the jocks who humiliated you in school, the fraternity brothers who often give each other nicknames just like yours, Shotgun, which you certainly mocked but deep down envied. I want you to think about all the real men you and your faggot friends called toxic behind their backs without having the guts to face them. I want you to picture yourself as one of them, with all the stereotypes of white cis straight men, yada yada yada bullshit that your liberal faggot mind has stored. I want you to take all their traits and slap them on yourself. Habits, behavior, conduct, appearance, desires, thoughts, everything! Yeah, everything you think about guys like me applied to you. When you’re done, Shotgun, then we’ll talk man to man, and only then I’ll wanna know more about my new bro. A bro who scored this awesome apartment for a fellow frat brother moving across the country as soon as he heard someone just like him was moving here, just for the spirit of brotherhood that exists between real men that your old self would never have been able to grasp! Do it now!

The wave of nausea hit its peak; Shane felt the vomit rising in his throat but held it back, swallowing it down again, while another sensation took over his head, a feeling of being invaded and violated, his mind dominated by a relentless buzz, his vision flooded with a myriad of colors, while his whole body itched as if a million ants were crawling over him. The whole situation was overwhelming. And it got worse when his memories and recollections started to twist and reform, everything he was being tangled up in a whirlwind of misinformation. He found himself facing several traumatic situations from his life, but in reverse roles; the bullying he suffered turning into the bullying he practiced, the sports activities observed from afar being felt and lived, the toxic behavior going from being judged to being experienced and appreciated. And with that, new memories surfacing, time in the gym sculpting his body to perfection, nights of sex with various women whose names he didn’t even remember, his work at the art gallery replaced by a finance job earned not through talent but through connections made via his fraternity brothers. At last the image of Malcolm, the great love of his life, being erased. In an internal scream of despair, he tried to cling to that safe harbor, but that ship had already sailed to new waters, taking with it his humility, knowledge, empathy, and kindness. Leaving only inflated self-confidence, privilege, and respect only for those he considers equal or superior.

As the night wore on and Shane’s inner turmoil reached its peak, his exterior was undergoing its own transformation. His muscles were going into overdrive. They just kept contracting and expanding. Over and over. Lost in jumbled thoughts, he couldn’t feel his bones stretching longer. But each one was stretching out to its new length, growing denser to support his new weight. His average build quickly disappeared as muscle packed onto his recent lean frame. Little by little, he felt constricted by Martin’s clothing. The shirt pulled at his chest and shoulders while the shorts barely contained his thick, muscular ass, with his thighs growing like tree trunks, stretching the fabric to its limit. His shoulders broadened, turning into large round orbs jutting from his sides. Two mighty pecs pushed a bit in front of him while a firm set of abs grew more defined right underneath. His biceps bulged out of his arms while his forearms widened to support the new strength building within him. Amid the chaos of conflicting memories, his average-sized dick, the butt of Martin’s jokes, quickly grew to new heights. What had been his maximum hard was now his flaccid member. His calves grew to the size of most men thighs. Meanwhile, his feet grew well beyond the previous size 8, increasing to the point of competing with Martin’s stinky paws, which had to be at least size 13. The changes also hit his face, which took on a more squared-off, rugged look, with his button nose growing and turning into an aquiline nose that could’ve easily been broken in a fight, which only reinforced the raw masculinity taking over from his previous cuteness.

Finally, a smile formed on his chiseled face, oozing confidence and displaying his internal arrogance for all to see.

Seeing that smile appear, Martin knew his work was nearly done. And when that new Shane let out a fart and a burp, he knew it was all over. Feeling that new putrid smell mix with his own musk, he turned to the other man.

“Damn, Shotgun, you’re rank!”

“I didn’t get the name Shotgun Shane for nothing, man; it was for the shots I could take back in college, but I almost got called Stinkbomb for what I let out. Now, if you’re gonna complain about the smell, you better get those damn feet outta my face!” Shane shot back, his arrogant smile widening. This made Martin lift his feet off Shane’s face while cracking up.

“I knew we’d be best bros the moment we met, Shotgun,” he said, admiring the result of his handiwork.

“Me too, bro; way better having you as a neighbor than that faggot who lived here before.”

“If you compare me to some queer again, I’m gonna mess you up.”

“You can try!” Shane replied, flexing one of his powerful arms before continuing. “But you’re right, there’s no comparison, dude. To make it up to you, how about I take you to check out the hottest club in town? Celebrate the move by picking up some chicks?”

“Now you’re speaking my language, bro!”

….

Martin hated waiting on others, even though he himself had no problem showing up late. Apparently, Shane inherited that same trait during his transformation. The other man had gone home, took forever in the shower, and then posted some pretty provocative videos on his social media. The first one showed off his well-developed muscles while he seductively invited all the girls interested in him to meet him and his best bro at a city club.

In the second video, he just slid the camera down, revealing the huge package he had stuck in his underwear. All of this under the suggestive caption, “You really gonna miss this?”

Martin was super stoked with the results of his actions. Moving to a new city was tricky, but having a bro made it a whole lot easier, no matter that bro had been crafted by him. Still, he wondered if he hadn’t put too much of himself into the other man while he waited for him with a frown and his arms crossed. After a reasonable amount of waiting, he saw the gigantic figure strutting toward him down the first-floor corridor and was sure he had indeed put too much of himself into the other man, which could lead to some friction in the future when they had to sort out their power dynamics, but at that moment, that didn’t matter; he just wanted to have a good time, and there wouldn’t be better company than someone who was practically him in another body.

That became even clearer when Shane stopped in front of his irritated face and flexed his muscles playfully.

“What’s with the ugly mug, dude? You wanna throw down?”

“The ugly mug is because you took your sweet time, Shotgun! And you can joke all you want, but you can’t compete with this,” he replied, flexing one of his powerful arms. “Now let’s go after some hot chicks, or what?”

….

Malcolm didn’t quite know why he was in that dump of bigotry and toxicity. He just felt like something was missing and couldn’t quite put his finger on what. His trip to the place was the result of an Instagram video where one of the typical patrons invited all the interested bitches to come on down. Malcolm didn’t consider himself a bitch and usually would’ve laughed if someone said he might be into a dude like that, yet here he was. Knowing he had no chance of getting close to that man radiating toxicity. But only when he saw that self-proclaimed Shotgun Shane chatting up a hot young woman did something stir within him, a memory of a passionate kiss shared just that morning.

“S-Shane…?” he murmured, though he didn’t know exactly who this man was, he felt something deeply wrong was going on. While he stood there, dumbfounded, the man made his move and kissed the woman, which made him decide to leave the place as he was hit by another wave of strangeness and sadness mixed together.

However, he wasn’t the only one watching the scene; on the other side of the club, Martin saw his supposed wingman score before he did.

“Damn, I really put too much of myself in that dude,” he muttered as he weaved through the crowd. That’s when he saw Malcolm hurrying along with a look of confusion.

Well, if his wingman bailed on him, he could just make another one, right? It’s not like there was a shortage of material to work with, as that other faggot’s presence left abundantly clear. He just needed to be a bit more careful not to overdo it again, although he didn’t really have that refined of a control over the final result, and the most likely outcome would be ending up with another bro exactly like him. But he didn’t care that much; to him, there wouldn’t be better company than his own, and if someone asked him where and with whom he rather be, the answer would always be the same, he thought, smiling as he approached his future bro.

[butterscotchpiesandguys]

Student Becomes the Teacher

It was a familiar experience to me, getting in my car, going to class early, doing homework. Felt nice. Of course what was also familiar was the bullying. You see I had recently gotten fired and had a wake up call. I needed to do something better with my life. So what did I do? i, as someone so smart would do, joined a technical institute. I went into a more financial side though. This did not make me popular with my classmates who had been there longer, were usually older, and most of which were more hands on.

They would call me a nerd, a loser, and a geek. Of course I didn't care all too much about this. Harassment was just that, and quite frankly it was some annoying dumb ass adults who couldn't even think straight enough to get a job that was actually needed. This attitude also made me very unpopular. So unpopular a teacher complained. Why? Cause he had heard some of the stuff me and my field would say about the welders.

It was just stuff like how they're stupid, all have at least one DUI, won't amount to anything. Stuff like that. He went so far to complain to the head administrator of the school. Now he used to be an electrician so he knew how it was to be hands on. He loved hearing about all of this and hatched a plan. The workload for the welders had been pretty overwhelming for just one instructor...

It was only a few days before I heard murmurs of a new instructor coming on campus, of course it was some welder... not like my section could get anything. But that same week I was called into an office at campus. I expected nothing much, maybe an odd thing I lost, although what it was I could not imagine... what I didn't expect was the head administrator.

"Hello [Y/N], we just wanted to talk to you today." Oh god what was it about, he could see how nervous I was. It was humiliating but also I needed to try and keep cool. "We had received some complaints about your attitude towards the welders and electricians, I just wanted to go through a few questions with you, that ok?"

Without knowing what to do I nodded, "Y-yes sir." I gulped a bit.

"Good, so first... is it true you had said to Taylor that he was a... no good stoner with no future? Is that true?" I tried to shake my head no but it went the opposite way. "Ah, glad you were honest with me. Well... you know here we like to give second chances to anyone right?" I shook my head in agreement. "In that case, any felonies you have?"

What felonies? What kind of- "Yeah, actually I've had a dui or two, got arrested for a fight or two... or more." What was I saying?! What the hell?!

"I appreciate your honesty... Tom was it?" What kind of name was that? It wasn't my name at all? Wait why did I nod?! "Yeah, well that's gonna be tough but your students generally would relate. The head administrator smiled at me. "We can wave those away since your track record for your work is pretty good."

"Glad to hear that." I said again in that weird voice. What the hell was happening... why did I suddenly remember welding and shit... What the hell...

"Yeah... I think you'll fit right in, Tom." Why was he being so devilish right now?!

"Thanks man, really need this." I chuckled as I stood up and walked out of the room. "Startin next thursday right?"

"Yup! Just wear somethin like that when you come in! We'll get a shirt in your size soon!" He laughed as I walked out, the window in the door showing a new reflection.

My face was more dashing, a bit older as well. My hair was messy but in an almost purposeful way. My body had grown quite a bit of muscle now... hair as well. Tattoos had been put on my body frivolously! I looked like some typical douche bag!

I walked through the halls, trying to see on my phone what had happened. My background was a picture of a motorcycle. Jessie... what? Who the hell was Jessie? My contacts had some girls in there and some guys I had no clue who they were. Going through the messages they were my drinking buddies and some hookups.

I continued until the electrician teacher stopped to talk. "Hey are you..." I wanted to say my actual name but that didn't pop out.

"Yeah, name's Thomas Wylder. You can just call me Tom though." I smiled at her... it was like my body moved on it's own. "New teacher here, welding." Wait...

We started to talk in the hall for a bit, just about staff in the school and how the welders were. She described them as younger than me and rowdy. I would make douchey comments or state shit about my life. Where I now lived, how many years I had been a welder and in the union. It was like I wasn't even me anymore. Eventually I cut it short, needing to go do some "tasks" at my home.

I went outside to find it... the same motorcycle from the picture. Jessie. I put on a leather jacket and no helmet... I could ride it with no issue though. I was still wondering how or why this happened. It was as if I was... no... the head administrator wouldn't do that would he?

I eventually got back to wherever my home was. Beaten up shithole kinda... not in a good neighborhood either. I waved to a neighbor and went in. Smelt like shit, I reached in my pocket and took out a cig and started smoking... no... I was the worst kind of person. The kind I hated. Dumb, arrogant, douchey, and toxic! It was awful!

2 MONTHS HAD GONE BY

I was now regularly teaching the class, about two weeks into this hellish experience I had started to regain full control of my life. While I tried to actually stop these worse traits, I couldn't. By that point they were ingrained into me. Now I acted like a douchey teacher, the kinds you hate. The ones that will just tease or make fun of nerdy kids. Of course I was well loved by the staff and my students.

I worked as a welder and taught the trade now. I hated it... but it gave me money to pay the lifestyle I never wanted. I don't think I deserved this but... I'm slowly coming around to it. I feel more confident and hey, I even hang out with some of the douchebags I had teach me when I went here... god I sound so old now... I hope someday I can reverse this before it's way too late.

[butchfalin]

the funniest meltdown ive ever had was in college when i got so overstimulated that i could Not speak, including over text. one of my friends was trying to talk me through it but i was solely using emojis because they were easier than trying to come up with words so he started using primarily emojis as well just to make things feel balanced. this was not the Most effective strategy... until. he tried to ask me "you okay?" but the way he chose to do that was by sending "👉🏼👌🏼❓" and i was so shocked by suddenly being asked if i was dtf that i was like WHAT???? WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY TO ME?????????? and thus was verbal again

[canisalbus]

✦ Fashionably late ✦

[peaceposts]

VIPs have turned to alcohol as a coping mechanism for emotional turmoil. These influential figures encourage the individual to follow suit in seeking solace through alcohol consumption, leading to a cycle of dependency and negative coping strategies.

[bulldog-butch]

i’m gonna say something controversial yet brave: sexuality labels are a convenient tool we use to define something that is undefinable

[ayyy-pee]

waking up freezing and shivering, teeth chattering every night because your husband is a blanket hog. you know it's not on purpose. he just can't help it. doesn't even know he does it most times. you'd think after years together you'd be used to it, but waking up curled into the fetal position as you try to retain even a smidge of warmth is something you don't think you'll ever adjust to.

so you reach behind you, feeling your spouses large form wrapped snug as a bug in your shared blanket and you grip onto the fabric. you pull as hard as you can but you don't manage to move him even an inch. you try once more...same result.

"ken..." you whisper, wrapping your arms around yourself. no response. "kento..."

he doesn't budge. you're tempted to just get up and go grab another blanket, but your husband, despite his seriousness, can get quite pouty when you do that. so you tap him hard instead sure to jab him in the spot you know is his most sensitive. this seems to do the trick as he grunts in response.

"I'm cold," you tell nanami and he sits up quickly, realizing what he's done. his pajama top hangs off one shoulder. his blonde hair is pointing every which way and sleep is heavy on his eyelids, threatening to weigh him down again any minute.

"I'm sorry, love," nanami speaks, voice rough and deep with exhaustion, but the sincerity in his apology clear.

then he's throwing the blanket back over you both. only he adds in a little extra warmth as he wraps his arm around your waist and throws a large leg over your body.

nanami buries his face in your neck, adjusting himself so that he can be as close to you as possible. only a few seconds pass before you hear his light snoring behind you. and you know the warmth you feel is from more than just his touch.