The Great Shift ~ Welcome Week

It was a bright, busy afternoon on campus as Devin wandered across the university quad, eyes scanning the rows of booths set up for welcome week. Even though this was technically his first year at college, Devin felt out of place. Not because of the usual nerves that come with being a freshman—but because of the body he now inhabited.

Since the Great Shift hit halfway through his senior year of high school, Devin had been living in the body of his older sister, Emily. He wasn’t alone, of course—everyone had been swapped. Some into strangers, others into family. Devin hadn’t spoken much about it since arriving on campus, keeping to himself and trying to blend in. Still, the awkwardness of adjusting to college life as a girl gnawed at him.

“Hey,” a cheerful voice called out, snapping him out of his thoughts.

Devin turned to see a girl in a powder blue ribbed sweater, long brown hair gleaming in the sun, and a bright, easy smile stretched across her face. “You’re new, right?” she asked, holding a clipboard of her own.

“Uh, yeah,” Devin replied cautiously.

“I’m Alan,” she said, offering a hand. “Well, I used to be Alan. This—” she motioned to her body with a grin, “—is my sister Ashley. You shifted too, huh?”

Devin blinked, startled. “Wait… you’re in your sister’s body?”

Alan nodded. “You too, I’m guessing?”

Devin slowly nodded back. “Yeah. Emily.”

Alan’s smile widened. “Knew it. You’ve got that ‘trying to figure out how to be your sister without tripping over yourself’ look. I’ve been there. I’m actually the president of BOTS, Brothers of the Shift, here on campus. It’s a support group for guys like us who got swapped into their siblings during the shift.”

Alan held up the clipboard. “We meet once a week, talk about the weirdness of all this, help each other out. You’re not alone in this, man—or, well, you know what I mean.”

Devin cracked a smile for the first time all afternoon. “Yeah. I think I’d like to sign up.”

“Welcome to BOTS,” Alan said, scribbling his name down. “Trust me—this place makes everything feel a little more normal.”

CAP Program ~ Frank/Jaewon pt. 2

The Cultural Appreciation Program (CAP for short) is a program used as punishment for racial based discrimination in the workplace.

Frank woke up with a gasp, the harsh buzz of overhead lights echoing in the sterile CAP lab.

“What the hell—” he blurted out, but the words that escaped his mouth weren’t in English.

“뭐야?!”

He blinked, startled. He could think in English, but whenever he tried to speak, fluent Korean came out instead. It was jarring—like his brain and body were working against each other.

“Welcome to the Seoul CAP facility,” an attendant greeted him in Korean. “The transfer is complete. You’ll be escorted to your assigned residence shortly.”

That was all he got before being ushered into the city, his head spinning as he adjusted to the smaller, leaner frame he now inhabited. Jaewon’s body. The guy he’d swapped with as punishment for harassing a Korean coworker back in the States. Frank had expected something… educational, maybe humbling. He didn’t expect to be dropped into the middle of Seoul, unable to speak English, wearing someone else’s skin.

When he got to Jaewon’s compact apartment, the culture shock deepened. The apartment was minimal, the toilet had more buttons than a car, and the kitchen was… confusing. Desperate to get his bearings, he unlocked Jaewon’s phone.

That’s when he found the BlushFans app.

At first, he thought it was spam—until he opened it and saw dozens of high-quality photos and videos. All of him. Or rather, Jaewon’s body—shirtless, posing, flexing, winking at the camera. Comments and messages poured in: “Can’t wait for the next livestream 😍” and “You’re so hot, oppa.”

Frank nearly dropped the phone.

“Wait… he’s a—? I’m a—?!”

“나는… 뭐야…” he muttered aloud, frustrated that even now, he couldn’t say what he was thinking.

Jaewon wasn’t just a CAP volunteer—he was a gay BlushFans star. And Frank, like it or not, had just inherited the job.

As he stared at himself in the mirror—slimmer, smooth-skinned, undeniably attractive—he realized with a sinking feeling that this was his life now. No language. No familiarity. No privacy.

And the first live stream? Scheduled for tomorrow night.

CAP Program ~ Frank/Jaewon pt. 1

The Cultural Appreciation Program (CAP for short) is a program used as punishment for racial based discrimination in the workplace. 

When Jaewon opened his eyes, the world felt strange and heavy.

The buzzing of the fluorescent lights above him mixed with the sterile chill of the CAP lab. He sat up slowly, feeling an unfamiliar weight in his chest and arms. A calm voice crackled over the intercom:

“Welcome, Jaewon. You are in the Cultural Appreciation Program facility in Oregon. Your swap is complete. Please remain seated while final scans are processed.”

It was real. After months of applications, screenings, and training sessions, his first CAP assignment had begun. He’d signed up for the program out of curiosity—a chance to experience life in a different body, a different country. The idea felt like something out of a science fiction novel, but here he was, living it.

And now he was inside the body of a young American man named Frank, sentenced to the program after harassing a Korean coworker at his job. Jaewon had no connection to the victim. He had simply been next in line.

He moved his hands—large, pale, veined. Powerful. Flexing his arms, he could feel the muscle under his skin, the strength that wasn’t his but now somehow was. He stood, catching a glimpse of himself in a wall mirror: tousled brown hair, sharp jawline, broad shoulders stretching the fabric of his tight brown tee. He lifted it and marveled at the sculpted abs beneath.

This body was athletic, attractive—nothing like his leaner, quieter frame back home.

A CAP assistant soon entered the room and handed him a phone and a small welcome packet. “You’ll find all your information inside. You have full access to Frank’s apartment, employment history, and spending account. We recommend laying low for the first couple of days as you adjust.”

“감사합…” he began instinctively—but stopped. That wasn’t right. What came out of his mouth sounded like: “Thank you.”

He blinked.

“Can I… speak Korean?” he asked, testing it again. “Annyeong—wait. Wait…” He tried again, and again English came out. In his mind, he could still think in Korean—he could hear the words clearly in his head—but his mouth didn’t follow.

“What the hell…” he muttered, then laughed nervously. “Okay, that’s weird.”

Language override. He remembered them mentioning this in orientation—something about the brain adapting to the vocal patterns and reflexes of the host body. But he didn’t expect it to feel so… disorienting. To think in Korean but only speak English? It made everything feel even more surreal.

As he began heading outside, the cultural shock hit him full force. People greeted him casually, without hesitation or suspicion. At the coffee shop down the street, the barista smiled brightly at him. “What can I get for you today?”

Jaewon hesitated, expecting to stutter—but the words came easily, naturally, with an American accent.

“Uh… just a black coffee. Medium.”

“Coming right up!”

He took a seat by the window, watching people pass on the sidewalk. In Korea, he’d grown used to second glances, judgmental looks, the occasional muttered comment. Here, he was just another guy. No one stared. No one whispered. It was peaceful in a way that almost felt unfair.

He looked down at his reflection in the glass. This wasn’t just a swap of skin. It was a swap of privilege. Of perception. Of freedom.

And as he sipped his coffee, flexed his new fingers, and listened to his thoughts swirl in Korean inside a mouth that only spoke English, Jaewon found himself smiling.

He didn’t want to go back.

ReMod App ~ Copycat

At sixteen, Dylan had always looked up to his older brother, Chase. At 21, Chase was everything Dylan aspired to be — fit, confident, effortlessly cool. But with five years between them, Chase always seemed just out of reach. They lived in the same house but different worlds. Chase was out living life, while Dylan still felt stuck in high school, dreaming of the day he could catch up.

One lazy Saturday, Dylan was lying in bed scrolling through his phone when an ad for an app caught his eye: ReMod – Redefine Yourself. It looked like one of those AR filter apps or maybe a body editing tool. He downloaded it out of boredom.

The app opened with a sleek interface and asked him to take a photo of himself. He shrugged and snapped a quick selfie. Then it prompted him to input stats: age, height, weight, body type, even things like fitness level and bone structure. Dylan smirked. “What if I just…?”

He began typing in Chase’s info from memory — 21 years old, 6 feet tall, 180 pounds, athletic build. He knew it all by heart. For fun, he hit ‘Apply Changes’ button on screen.

At first, nothing happened. Then a strange warmth rippled through his chest, followed by a tingling sensation racing across his limbs. Dylan gasped as his arms thickened, shoulders broadened, abs tightening and torso stretching. His face reshaped, maturing, becoming more angular — more like Chase’s.

He stumbled to the mirror — and nearly dropped his phone. Staring back at him wasn’t a teenage boy anymore. It was Chase. Or rather… Dylan, but in his brother’s exact body.

Heart racing, he slowly turned side to side, flexed his arms, and ran a hand down his now-ridiculously sculpted torso. It was surreal. He’d actually become his brother’s twin.

From the hallway, Chase wandered in and did a double take. He stopped in the doorway, blinking in confusion at the shirtless mirror selfie scene unfolding.

“Dylan?” Chase asked cautiously.

Dylan grinned, striking a mock pose. “Guess we’re hanging out today.”

Chase looked stunned. “Dude… what did you do?”

“Just… caught up a little early,” Dylan said with a wink.

Clothes Make the Man ~ Tailored Fate

This story has been inspired by one of my favorite stories by YoungTrevor on Blogger which can be found here!

Ryan hadn’t planned on going anywhere except Old Navy. At 43, he liked routine—practical clothes, loose boxers, and breathable cotton tees. But as he passed a new shop tucked between the candle kiosk and the pretzel stand, something about it caught his eye. The storefront was old-fashioned, with a hanging sign that read: Clothes Make the Man. Curious, and a little bored, he stepped inside.

It was quiet, like stepping into someone’s attic. Clothes lined every wall—some modern, some vintage, all carefully arranged. A distinguished man behind the counter, with silver hair and a vest straight out of a costume drama, greeted him warmly.

“Looking for something specific?”

“Underwear, actually,” Ryan chuckled. “Mine are all shot.”

“Ah, of course,” the man said, eyes gleaming. “Right this way.”

He led Ryan to the back of the store and pulled out a pair of crisp white briefs. They were clearly several sizes too small for Ryan’s middle-aged build.

“Those aren’t going to fit,” Ryan said, skeptical.

“They’ll fit you perfectly,” the owner said with a wink, handing them over.

Ryan stepped into the changing booth, not noticing the shimmer in the mirror’s surface. He tugged the size medium briefs on—surprisingly being able to get them on even though he usually wears a size extra large. As the waistband snapped into place, a jolt ran through him. His legs tightened, his gut receded, his chest expanded, and his face restructured. In seconds, he had become someone entirely new—youthful, handsome, toned.

He stared in shock at the reflection: the man from the image on the brief’s packaging. His jaw dropped. “What the hell—?”

He stepped out of the booth, still dazed.

 

The shopkeeper just smiled. “Welcome to your new self. The mirrors are enchanted. Anyone who tries on clothing becomes the last person who wore it. You’re him now—body, voice, everything. And outside these walls, the world will remember you as always having been this man.”

Ryan’s phone buzzed. He looked down. New name. New contacts. His past, rewritten.

“But…” he started.

“No need to worry,” the owner said, handing him a fresh bundle of clothes. Stylish jeans, a fitted tee, sleek sneakers. “These will fit your new body. Consider them a gift.”

Ryan hesitated, then took them. In minutes, he was fully dressed—feeling strange, powerful, and oddly excited.

“Now,” the owner said, ushering him toward the door, “go live your life. It’s already waiting for you.”

As Ryan stepped into the mall again, heads turned—people smiled, some waved. No one saw the middle-aged man who had walked in. That man no longer existed. Only himself and the shopkeeper remembered the man Ryan was.