Crossdreams: TG Captions and more

I’ve tailored suits for senators, wedding dresses for celebrities, and gowns for women whose last names I won’t dare repeat. But her ? She walked into my shop like a storm in heels — hair perfect, voice like velvet, and a strange antique necklace dangling from her fingers. She said she wanted a custom piece. Something... unforgettable. While measuring her, she smirked and asked, “Ever wonder what it’s like to design for yourself, from the other side ?” I scoffed. She laughed. Then handed me the necklace and told me to “try it on for inspiration.” So I did. And now I’m looking at my old grumpy face in the mirror — from hers . And let me tell you something… designing a dress is very different when you’re the one in lace, heels, and garters, trying not to breathe too hard or smudge your lipstick. I’ve got until midnight to finish her gown. My old self (now possessed by her , I think?) will be coming back for the final fitting. And if the seams aren’t flawless? Let’s just say I...

 It was supposed to be a casual 10K. Just me, the park trail, and my usual playlist. Then she showed up — that chatty girl with the colorful sports bra and the messy ponytail. Said she was a beginner, just trying to “find her pace.” I rolled my eyes, wished her luck, and took off. But somewhere around kilometer three… something weird happened. The sky shimmered. The ground hummed. We crossed this old stone arch that was never there before, and then— Boom. I'm her. And she's me. That was three weeks ago. I haven’t seen her since. I’ve tried everything to reverse it — doctors, meditation, even posting in conspiracy forums. Nothing. So… this is my new routine now. I stretch. I lift. I take mirror selfies like this because apparently her followers expect it. I eat protein pancakes. And yeah… I work that treadmill like it owes me money. You know what’s crazy? I feel amazing. Her body is strong, agile, addictively photogenic . I get stared at every time I jog past a guy gr...

I created her. Every pixel. Every curve. Every tattoo. She was supposed to be my custom rogue assassin in Eclipse Core VR , the most immersive virtual reality experience ever made. Facial tracking, sensory feedback, real emotions — they said it would “blur the line between you and the game.” I just didn’t expect the blur to be permanent. One second I’m booting up the simulation, testing the final build of her dialogue tree — I even added a sultry voice and a sarcastic attitude. Next thing I know? Blackout. Reboot. And I’m her. Standing knee-deep in this glowing neon lagoon. Wearing… well, that . With her voice echoing from my mouth, and her thoughts leaking into mine. “Confidence is a weapon, darling,” I just heard myself say. Except I didn’t mean to say it. It’s like she’s still in here — watching, smirking, influencing every step I take. The devs are offline. No emergency logout. And the “personality override” was turned up to MAX for testing. Now I’m stuck in this bom...