Romania dreaming
It has been a few months since I met George on the site for long distance dating for gays. He was from Romania, kind of cute twinkish guy. Never had much luck. I honestly can't say why I went on that website, maybe I was just bored, but it turned out as the best decision of my life.
It was strange cause from the start, we knew we had chemistry between each other, but the distance made it complicated. We often sex-chatted on the website. About what we would do to each other and so.
One day I told him I wanted to jerk off furiously, because of what he wrote, but my rommate was unfortuantely in the room. Then just a strange idea popped into my head. "What if you'd swap into his body? Then you could be with me." George told me about his Romania ancestor magic skills he had, but he did just some small parlor tricks from time to time. The bigger spells were harder. He needed a friend for that. A friend that I could be. And that I could benefit from too
George loved the idea, but was scared at first. "What if the other one in my body ruins my life while he is me? I can't let that happen."
"Ok, you know what. Find anyone hot from your life that you would like me to swap into and I will come to see you. Then you'll swap me back and I'll see what the other person did. Maybe the spell makes them think they're us. That would be neat" I suggested
George was more confident now and even sent me some photos of his straight colleagues from work, so that we could see if they behaved differently after swapping back. I immediately set my eyes on Daniel. His hot, absolutely 100 % straight, colleague who worked out. Insanely hot.
We both agreed. I got ready in my bed. I told George to start the spell at 21:21. I looked at the clock and still had some minutes left. I tried to fall asleep. Maybe Daniel would be asleep in my body and it would be easier. Then it hit me. Strange nauseating feeling and the light
I was standing in the locker rooms. Cold win from the AC on my bare torso. Bare torso? Holy shit. I am shirtless in the locker rooms of some gym. That's something I never expected to happen to me. I looked down. First thing that caught my eye were the shorts. Then I looked at my beautiful muscular torso. My new arms. Then I caught my new reflection. In the mirror was the guy that I saw in the photo. Daniel. "Daniel" I said aloud. His voice sounded so strong and commanding. If he told me with this voice to get down on my knees and suck him, I would. Speaking of sucking I looked in my shorts. Nice flacid shaved cock. "Gotta find out how big you are when you're hard big guy". His phone vibrated. Fuck, I almost forgot I was suppose to send Daniel proof of swapping bodies
I sent the photo to George's instagram. Then I wrote:"This is what you'll be looking up at tonight while you suck me off"
"Peter? I can't believe it. You're really him. You have to come over!"
I wanted to get his stuff and leave immediately, but the some of his friends got to the locker and ridiculed me for being a pussy and leaving without lifting. I don't know if it was Daniel's personality or something else in me, but I felt like I had to prove them wrong. And then I said things I didn't even know. Shit about cars, girls, FUCKING GIRLS. I even lifted without knowing how. This body was on autopilote.
I left early without saying anything. Bunch of messages from George waiting for me and being stressed out what happened. I explained and asked for his adress of his dorms.
The twink I used to talk to late at night was waiting for me in black compression shorts and black shirt.
"Heey...." was all I let him say out loud. I agressively pressed him against the wall and kissed him. Tongues twisting around each other, my teeth biting his lips, hands feeling up and down his body. Slowly we were working our way to his bed. I set him down and took of my shirt. He was visibly shocked, that his work colleague was now in front of him stripping down. I whip out my hard dick and pushed it into his face. He obliged immediately and worked his way with his tongue around the bright purple head of my new dick. He was working it like a pro, trying to swallow it whole, not gagging. But that didn't matter, I had to fuck his ass. Now.
I turned him around, not even stripping him, only pulling a bit of his shorts from his ass. I spit into my hand, got it on my dick and pushed myself in. He screamed out. But I didn't care, I just pused inside and kept thrusting. He was so tight. His ass was so tight around my shaft. I shot my cum inside of him. Pulling out and immediately searching for clothes to leave.
"You're leaving?!"
I snapped out. "Fuck, jesus George I am so sorry. I don't know what happened. I think Daniel's personality still had effect on me. I didn't mean to be so rough on you. Please forgive me."
"It's ok. It did hurt at first, but it was worth it. I still can't believe you're him now. And I lost my virginity with Daniel who I crushed over for years! That's so amazing!"
"Wait, this was your first time? But, you told me all the stories. Was none of it true? Jesus, George, maybe if I knew I would have fought Daniel's personality harder."
"I didn't expect we would me irl. I honestly didn't expect the spell would wrok, but here we are. Daniel is here. In my room. Wait, I have a great idea!" he started casting a spell
"Wait!" I wasn't fast enough to stop him.
But now I was looking at Daniel. From his point of view. Already feeling more submissive than in Daniel's body. The personality of the original body truly does have an effect on the one swapped inside.
George was now posing in front of the mirror. His eyes focused on his biceps and all the tense muscles.
I was now in George's twink body. I could feel his ass hurting from the sex with Daniel's body. I could feel the cum in his ass. I felt the attraction towards Daniel's body. But I didn't feel right like I did in Daniel's. I wanted to swap back.
George now got to his new dick, which was already throbbing hard again. How that's possible, I have no idea. But as soon as he started jerking his new cock he looked at me and I felt his predator eyes on me. Fuck, this is gonna hurt
The next morning I woke up sleeping next to George still in Daniel's body. We didn't sleep much tonight, but don't get me wrong, while the sex felt great I still couldn't shake the feeling that I was in the wrong body. As soon as George woke up I told him about my dysphoria with his body. He got mad. I could tell that Daniel's personality took over. And then few seconds later I found myself in my original body again already in my university lecture.
For several weeks George didn't answer my messages. I could only see as his Tumblr profile had more and more photos of Daniel's body in the gym etc.
Not only was I worried, but I had to admit to myself that I was extremely jealous. I was in that body first. I need it more than he did
I kept spamming him with messages and then one day he answered. The message said:"I need to fuck this guy in gym. I'll swap u with him tonight. Be ready". Man, I think it's better to have one body close to Daniel's rather than be far from him
He did as he said in the message. I woke up again in the bright gym. Now lifting. I proceeded to not cause suspicion.
This guy I was now in was really handsome. More muscular even than Daniel I dare to say. I could feel that his personality was not as strong as Daniel's. He seemed more kind in my eyes, but who knows who he is. I may not know before George tells me. I saw him on the other side of the room eyeing me. Stalking me even. I left the body on autopilote and finished the workout. His body was probably used to take photos after so I let him
Maybe I could stay in his body. He is really hot. And more handsome too. But I don't know. He is the type I would love to have as a boyfriend, not to be him.
I followed George to the showers. We were eventually the last people in the gym. I got into the lockers. Patiently waiting for him to speak.
"You're Mihai now. He's the owner of the gym. So we got the place for ourselves. Let's hit the showers"
I followe him. Mihai, what a nice name for this guy. I don't feel that Mihai is someone who would just follow others and do what they tell him to. Maybe I figured out how to overpower the personality of the person.
We got naked and stared at each other.
"Nah, this is wrong." and yet again he proceeded to perform his ritual
I was now Daniel again and was looking at Mihai. Now the reality of how he acted hit him. And as I suspected before, Miahi was irl a very nice guy. "I am so so so sorry Peter. I didn't know that Daniel had such a strong personality. I tohught I could fight it, but most of the time I just found myself being the passenger, but still enjoying his life. It's so weird. But I feel better now as Mihai. Maybe you should stay in Daniel's body for now. I'll learn to control the personality of others, just as you did and then we can safely try to swap with other people. What do you think?"
"I think" I said as I turned on the water in the showers "that you need a post workout shower. And that George and Mihai need to get to know themselves better" I smiled at him kneeling down to the nice hairy cock already waiting for my mouth
Few months later
Are you asking if we stayed in their bodies? Well yeah, kind off. We made their bodies our main ones. We got them to live together, start a relationship and now even if we swapped into other bodies Daniel and Mihai bodies continue what we established. Romantic right?
Me and George often take trips to some new locations travelling around the world, enjoying life of other people. Most of the time we try to find some straight friends travelling to foreign locations, trying to score some pussy there and slightly changing their vacation plans. Heh, there was this one time where we didn't even exit our hotel room. For a week. Crazy right? That was wild. But maybe I'll tell that story another time and tell you how our life in Mihai and George is proceeding
But now we are in the bodies of these two gym bro friends, waiting for the gay bar to open. See you
A story from messages we came up with while body swap roleplaying with @hunkpossesion
I changed the plot a bit, but still the hot bodies remained.
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having crazy thoughts about cryptozoology by patrick stump again....... the hidden track with lyrics about feeling like you need to prove yourself??? feeling like you'll never be the kid they want you to be??? the most hiatus song ever just in general. like to me its one of his most vulnerable like he talks about the struggle of expectations and how he feels like the ghost of the kid he was. how he feels studied and almost inhuman even when hes trying to express himself...
but also if we want to look into the whole pete/patrick angle?? omfg. just the image of "arms crossed nose turned up like youre trying to say impress me, good luck" - is that not pete wentz. like this is the most cruel interpretation of their musical partnership, one where they are bringing out the best in each other for the worst reasons. one where they only really act as foils to prove the other wrong and they can never really catch a break. and patrick is grating against it. i honestly this song is the only one on soul punk that reflects his relationship with pete/fob at all and its so devastating the way he does it. like he clearly needed it to process some stuff but oml.
anyways thanks for reading my little ramble <33 (and my earlier one about homesick at spacecamp.... can you tell im insane about overanalysing their songs) have a nice day!!
ahahaha welcome back! I love that you do this!
Cryptozoology has always killed me. A song named for the study of things that don't exist...and the song doesn't exist. It's hidden. And it's like the Patrick doesn't exist, not that particular one, not the one you mean. Not the one who had a Pete. You're right that that whole image and command of impress me is so loaded Peterick-wise: It's how they met, Pete wanting Patrick to impress him enough to join the band; it's their whole partnership, trying to one-up each other; it's Patrick tumbling into the hiatus, trying out a solo thing and feel Pete's judgment over his shoulder. There's so much there, and then there's Patrick insisting, I don't have to prove myself to you. Don't you?
There are so many little Pete flourishes in these lyrics, too. I can almost hear you trying too hard in answer to We must make it hard to look so easy doing something so hard. That whole thing about the ghost of the child who didn't die, he just grew up, makes me think of the crown to my head but I was only a kid. It also makes me think of the kid that Patrick was, who didn't die, who just grew up, and then was a has-been at 27. And then of course there's those old haunts, the old haunts full of Pete.
The song is a lot. You're right, Patrick had a lot to work through, and I approve of this album as therapy lol. He got a lot out and everyone came back together stronger.
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bit of a vent,,, bit of a pep talk,, read below the cut
sometimes i want to go off my meds. i'm like it's annoying to be dizzy all the time and sometimes i go kinda flat emotionally. like i'm not numb or apathetic (been on too high a dose and i did NOT like that) but still.
but i know if i do, my mood swings are too hard for me to handle. i get angry all the time and i try so hard not to lash out at people i care about.
and yet i still miss the highs. i miss the days where i felt like i was pouring out creativity, writing a song every day, funny and carefree (or anyways, less anxious). i miss not needing as much sleep to function.
and i can't even say "oooh that's the demons talking" bc my ocd ass will be like "what if you actually ARE evil and possessed??" which i know isn't true, but still.
and yet. it's hard to know that i am reliant upon another person prescribing me medicine and hopefully not judging me for it, especially when i might have to change doctors soon. that if i ever run out, i'm likely in for a very bad time. that the side effects might catch up with me. that certain things become more likely for my body.
also that my memory is fuzzy for chunks of my life. i don't feel like i'm getting any smarter, like i'm actively declining. i am in my 20s.
it's just kinda the grief of realizing my life might not be exactly how i planned it, that i might not be capable of as much as i thought, at least in the way most people do.
and yet i persist. i keep going. i take the damn pills every single day (or try to). because that is currently what is best for me.
but like hell am i going to judge someone who refuses medication. it better damn well be their choice, and i regret every single day judging someone in my past for being rebellious and violent without ever considering WHY they were that way. what society pushed them to without ever offering a hand back up. because the system (at least where i live) is broken, especially in regards to mental and physical health.
and i'm one of the lucky ones. i realized pretty early on what was going on, even though hardly anyone believed me at first, or that i was exaggerating. or that i was "normal." (great way to never trust yourself or think that you're manipulating or gaslighting by saying you're Hurting, by the way.) i can afford the co-pays. i am so, so lucky.
and yet, i'm still hurting. i want attention pretty much near constantly, especially from my favorite people, but i'm a quiet person who has a hard time reaching out. i doubt myself pretty near constantly and have extremely low self worth, even after so long of putting in the work to actively better myself. i hate people easily, based on one comment they say, or think they're fantastic for barely any reason. (and i can feel myself emphasizing what i want people to see, so people pay attention to me)
i'm still me. horribly so. beautifully so. even when i don't know who that is on the bad days.
please keep going. i promise it's worth it. i can't promise it always gets easier or better, but i can promise it's worth it.
especially for the people who love you unconditionally, without reservation. and for yourself. if you're not there yet, that's okay. you might never get there fully, but it's still worth it. because you can still experience love and joy and grief and friendships and relationships of all kinds and community and culture and and and. for the brief walk we have upon this earth, there are wonders to see and experience.
hold my hand in this darkness together. we shall sit as long as you need.
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My dad was a fire captain for calfire. I’m a nurse.
Started watching 911 for the bisexual rep that’s cropped up recently, as I’ve watched much worse shows for a lot less. Was really excited to watch a dumb procedural with a compelling bi storyline since I feel like the experience of figuring your shit out/exploring your sexuality older is a distinctly bisexual experience.
My experience of actually watching the show has been a little surprising though. I went into it mostly just stoked for a queer storyline that I could see myself reflected in. But what’s sticking with me more is the way I’m sort of understanding my father.
It took me until I started working as a nurse to really be able to understand even a fraction of some of the stuff I was only peripherally aware of as a kid. The way he resisted to the point of rage when I was insisting on wanting a motorcycle. The way he would angrily tell me how he spent too many nights scraping people off of the freeway for him to ever condone me buying something like that.
When I finally started working in medicine I began to understand some of his trauma, and the way it made him angry. I’ve learned what it’s like not to be able to save people and to watch them die, sometimes horrifically.
I didn’t go into this show expecting any real insights. I just wanted a fun romp with a queer reward. But weirdly the standout character has been Bobby for me. I see a lot of my father in him. The trauma and the fear and the still putting the turnouts back on and going out there under the influence of some drive that’s 1 part naturally-born hero, 1 martyr, and 1 part adrenaline junkie. And the mark that these kinds of jobs leave on the people who do them.
I grew up hearing stories about horrific motorcycle accidents. About how my father wasn’t there to help my mother when I was a newborn, because he was in San Francisco responding to the devastation of Loma Prieta. About how after one particularly nasty stretch, his brand new turnouts were completely black from blood. About how I didn’t recognize him and hid behind my mother’s leg when he came home after months on the line one fire season.
And this shit did take a toll. I’ve seen a lot of his anger, his inability to cry or mourn even when his father died, his tendency to fly into fire captain mode over even really mild emergencies. He couldn’t even finish the movie Seabiscuit because he couldn’t stomach the kid dying in the beginning of the film. Watching similar struggles of Bobby’s character, the PTSD, and the situations that contribute to it, is making me appreciate the life he lead in a way that not even being a nurse can.
Anyway I don’t expect anyone is particularly interested in this. I’m in season 2, and just a little surprised by the way this show is hitting me and just sorta needed to reflect on it.
If anyone is also in emergency/medical (or has a loved one who is) and has had similar experiences watching this show I’d be interested in hearing from you.
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