Crossdreams: TG Captions and more

"Man, I just asked if you had any of your ex’s clothes lying around, and this is what you give me?!" Hans exclaimed, arms spread in disbelief. "Hey, it’s clothing. And it was hers. Question answered, mission accomplished," his friend said, barely holding back a laugh. "Actually… that was the dress from that party we went to last year.  And let’s be honest… it fits  way  too well. Kinda suits your new vibe! Yeah, turns out your new body’s not too far off from hers. And hey—it’s what I had!" "When I get back to my body, you’re gonna regret every second of this," Hans growled, tugging the tiny skirt down in frustration. "From where I’m standing, I’m already seeing more than I bargained for," the friend said, finally bursting into laughter.

“How long have you been lying about being your stepmother?” Ezequiel asked, his eyes wide with disbelief. Jeremy, in Vivian’s body, crossed his arms and answered with a cynical sigh: “Well... are you planning to completely lose it, or are you going to give me five minutes to explain?” “Lose it? I’ve already lost it! I don’t even know what word to use to describe how I feel right now. It’s disgust, rage, horror—existential horror! Just... give me a number. And make it low, for God’s sake. Before I start thinking about scrubbing myself clean a thousand times over!” Ezequiel’s voice cracked, his face pale. This was no simple shock—it was his entire world crashing down. Jeremy gave a cold, ironic smirk before replying: “Six months. More or less. That’s when Vivian came up with the brilliant idea to ship me off to some boarding school overseas. Cut off all contact with you, bury me in some soul-sucking routine... while she lived it up with your money, five-star trips and luxury spas. ...

Nelson was an old, tired barber. For decades, he had kept his barbershop open—a small temple of tradition where men came seeking a precise cut, some idle chat, and the comforting scent of aftershave. But times had changed, and he knew it. The clientele was slowly disappearing, drawn to modern, stylish places with digital presence. His barbershop, with its yellowed walls and worn leather chairs, just wasn’t enough anymore. He decided it was time to fight back. He renovated everything. Replaced the old sign with a sleek, eye-catching one. Learned new techniques, from skin fades to hair tattoos, and organized every corner of the place to make it fully “Instagrammable.” Bright-lit mirrors, fake plants in all the right spots, trendy playlists echoing through the walls... But nothing seemed to work. Business remained slow. Refusing to give up, Nelson began watching the competition. Many women were opening modern salons and barbershops, offering engaging service, chic environments, and of c...

Mathew couldn’t believe his eyes. The woman standing before him—makeup flawless, curves accentuated by a breathtaking set of lingerie—was supposed to be the man who had hated him for as long as he could remember. Mr. Greg. His father-in-law. A man of stiff handshakes, disapproving glares, and silence sharp enough to wound. And yet... there she was. Lips parted with anticipation, eyes flickering with something between confusion and desire, breathing faster with every second of hesitation. The same soul that once sneered at his every word now stood trembling in his wife’s body, skin flushed, voice barely a whisper. — "Don't just stare," she said, almost pleading. "You always treat her like she’s the most beautiful thing in the world. So treat me like her.” And in that moment, Mathew didn’t know who was more lost—Greg, trapped in a body he didn’t choose, or himself, tempted by the very person he once swore he’d never let close. Mr. Greg had always been a difficult...

Jhonson never thought he’d set foot in that house again — not after being cast out by his stepfather, while his mother stood by, quiet, unwilling to fight for him. But time passed. He built his life from scratch: a solid job, a good apartment, freedom. He had left it all behind. Until the world turned upside down. The phenomenon struck without warning. Half of humanity found themselves in different bodies. No one knew why. It was chaos — theories spread, panic took hold. And Jhonson? He woke up in the body of his own mother. How could anyone explain that? How do you face the world, older, changed, back in the house where you'd once been rejected — and wearing her skin? At first, he resisted. Refused to look in mirrors, avoided his stepfather’s eyes, clung to the man he used to be. But months passed, and denial became fatigue. And then... something shifted. He began to settle into her life. Into this life. He and his stepfather had started talking again — cautiously, awkwardly — u...

Hugo had worked for years under Dr. Fritz — a brilliant but undeniably mad physician whose experiments had long strayed from anything remotely ethical. His work delved into the forbidden: rejuvenation, bizarre transplants, and methods so grotesque that even the most open-minded scholar would recoil. But Fritz came from a long line of alchemists and occultists, and he carried the family torch with unwavering zeal. As his most loyal assistant, Hugo watched the doctor’s research unfold with quiet devotion. He performed both the mundane and the macabre without question — procuring a human organ here, stealing a corpse there. Whatever tasks Dr. Fritz deemed beneath him or too risky, Hugo carried them out faithfully. Until, one day, he made a request. “I’ve served you for so long and never asked for anything in return. I’ve seen the impossible happen in this lab — even body-swapping. Now I want something for myself. My body is worn down from the years, from the abuse. People see me as ugl...