>>43728085
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j9Sn1nFGQQ8

[Choice 1]

“Yeah, sure… that actually sounds kinda fun.”
- Vaush grins. “Baseeedd. Let’s go, gamer girl.”
- Affection +1, Cringe Tolerance +5

[Choice 2]

“I have homework, you parasocial goblin.”
- He puts a hand to his chest. “Ouch. True, but ouch.”
- Responsibility +3, Horny Level −1

[Choice 3]

“Only if you admit trans women are the master race of leftist demographics.”
- He laughs. “Always have been. I just work here.”
- Ego +2, Trans Girl Supremacy Route unlocked

[Choice 4]

“Santa Monica? You paying, fat man?”
- “Of course. Consider it reparations for every time a cis guy made you doubt yourself.”
- Wallet −10 (his), Validation +10 (yours)

>>43728085
gem glistening in the shit of this board

>>43728317
I need a tranny to pick an option so the story can continue.
>>43728094

>>43728094
choice 4

File: vaush arcade.png (1.9 MB, 1672x941)

1.9 MB PNG

>>43728342
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GZTp2JzcOJ0

You squint at him.

“Santa Monica? You paying, fat man?”

For a second he looks theatrically offended, then he smiles.

“Of course. Consider it reparations for every time a cis guy made you doubt yourself.”

[Wallet −10 (his), Validation +10 (yours)]

Cut to: bus rumbling along the coast. The window is a sheet of dark glass with neon and streetlights smeared across it. The new track plays in the background, the kind of song that makes everything outside feel slightly unreal.

He’s half-turned toward you in the seat, knee bouncing.

“So, be honest,” he says. “On a scale from 1 to ‘terminally online’, how bad are your takes going to be if I let you talk politics at the arcade?”

You shrug.

“Depends. Are you going to debate me between rounds or just lose at Street Fighter and cope?”

He grins.

“Oh, it’s like that? Okay, noted. I see we’re in the ‘bully Vaush’ route.”

The bus hisses to a stop. Cut to the Santa Monica arcade: dim, crowded, the air full of overlapping sound—machines, kids yelling, the faint roar of the ocean outside. Colored lights crawl over the carpet.

He gestures grandly toward a Street Fighter cab glowing in the corner.

“There she is..”

You walk up to the machine together. The title screen flickers, DEMO PLAY cycling through characters.

He fishes a handful of quarters from his pocket and presses a couple into your palm without looking at you.

“Player one is all you,” he says. “I’m not taking the blame when you perfect me in front of these people.”

A tiny pop‑up appears in the corner of the screen:

Confidence +5

Feeling Seen +7

The music swells a little as the character select screen comes up.

File: crying-peter-griffin.gif (602 KB, 300x224)

602 KB GIF

absolute cinema

>>43728433
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GZTp2JzcOJ0

The music swells a little as the character select screen comes up.

[Choice 1 – Cute girl sweep]
You hover for a second, then lock in Chun‑Li. Cutest girl on the screen, easy.
You go full gremlin: instant pressure, pokes, corner trap. Two rounds later he’s stunned and the K.O. flashes.
“Wow, sexism AND getting bodied. Rough night for me,” he says, laughing.

[Choice 2 – Grappler menace]
You scroll straight down to Zangief. No hesitation.
First round you just walk forward and block, then snatch him out of the air with a spinning piledriver. Second round is worse; you command grab every panic jump.
“Okay, this is homophobic,” he mutters as the announcer yells K.O. again.

[Choice 3 – Sandbag then humble]
You pick Ryu, play like a casual. Dropped combos, bad jumps, eating fireballs on purpose. He steamrolls the first round.
He leans back, smug. “Damn, maybe I am still good at this.”
Next round you stop pretending. Clean confirms, corner loops, perfect.
“Alright what the hell was THAT,” he says, staring at the screen.

[Choice 4 – Femme ego massage]
You pick something simple—Ken, maybe—and decide to hold back.
You keep it close, but “accidentally” whiff at the end of each round so he takes the win.
He lights up. “Okay, I still got it,” he says, chest puffing a little. “See? I can still protect a trans woman from public humiliation.”
You roll your eyes, but let him have his little victory. It’s kind of cute.

As you hover over your choice, the camera lingers on the side of his face lit by the cabinet glow, the music looping softly, Santa Monica noise bleeding in under the synths.

choice 4

File: d44cf972-d68c-416e-9dd8-f(...).png (2.04 MB, 1672x941)

2.04 MB PNG

>>43728464
>>43728564
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MqM-9sQ-eTE
[Choice 4 – Femme ego massage, extended]

You lock in Ken again. Safe choice, soft colors, nothing too sweaty. You could absolutely wipe the floor with him if you wanted, but you don’t. Not tonight.

You keep the rounds close: a couple of nice confirms, one clean anti‑air, then a very suspiciously timed jump straight into his uppercut at low health. Twice.

K.O.

He exhales like he just won EVO.

“Okay, I still got it,” he says, shoulders relaxing. “See? Old man can still protect a trans woman from public humiliation.”

You snort.

“Yeah, congrats on beating your disabled girlfriend in a 30‑year‑old fighting game. Truly a feminist icon.”

He laughs, head tipping back.

“You’re so rude. This is ableism against my carpal tunnel.”

You step away from the machine together. The arcade noise fades a little as the music track shifts, something softer under the din. Outside, the pier lights bleed in through the front windows like another game screen.

“C’mon,” he says. “You’ve bullied me enough in front of the children. Beach time.”

Santa Monica at night. The pier is a spine of light stretching into the dark water, the Ferris wheel turning slow and lazy in the distance. The air smells like salt and fried food.

You walk side by side along the sand, shoes in your hands, the waves coming up just far enough to lick your toes.

“So,” he says, bumping your shoulder lightly with his. “On a scale from ‘Jacobin’ to ‘brainwormed Twitter reply guy’, how problematic are your opinions, actually?”

You think about it.

“Depends,” you say. “On trans shit I’m to the left of you. On some other stuff I’m… a little chuddy.”

“A little, huh.”

“I think the word ‘meritocracy’ should be a slur,” you continue calmly, “but I also think some people are just stupid and should not be allowed near policy.”

>>43728619
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MqM-9sQ-eTE

“A little, huh.”

“I think the word ‘meritocracy’ should be a slur,” you continue calmly, “but I also think some people are just stupid and should not be allowed near policy.”

He barks a laugh.

“See, this is the duality of woman. Hyper‑woke until someone posts a truly cursed take and then it’s straight to eugenics in your head.”

“It’s not eugenics,” you say. “It’s… selective muting.”

He glances over at you, eyes amused, fond.

“You’re so autistic it loops back around to insightful,” he says. “Like, you say the worst possible version of something and somehow it circles back to a good point.”

You kick a bit of sand at him.

“Keep talking like that and I’m going to start charging you for my analysis. Consultant rates.”

“Oh no,” he says, hand to his chest. “Weaponized girlbrain.”

He doesn’t argue with your spicier comments; half the time he just smiles to himself like he’s saving them for later, like every slightly off, too‑honest line from you is another reason he’s here.

The two of you drift closer to the waterline. The sound of the arcade is gone now, replaced by the dull crash of waves and distant pier music.

“You know,” he says after a moment, quieter, “you’re… really funny. Like actually, genuinely funny. Not just ‘terminally online tranny’ funny.”

You roll your eyes, but your ears go hot.

“Yeah, well, autism gives you plus ten to pattern recognition and minus ten to social survival. I have to do something with the points.”

“Seems like they were well spent,” he says.

You walk in silence for a bit, the good kind. The kind where your brain isn’t scrambling for a topic because the presence itself feels full.

He nudges you again.

“So,” he says, “tell me another horrible opinion. Academic curiosity.”

>>43728464
Pick 4!!!

Didnt f.d. signifier say that this guy is a full blown racist?

>>43728632
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MqM-9sQ-eTE

[Choice 1 – Co‑op Love Theory]
You glance at him and say, “Okay, relationship take: couples should treat it more like co‑op and less like fate. You either learn to clear levels together or you wipe.”
He snorts. “So we’re duo‑queueing life?”
“Exactly. Solo‑queue is for cowards.”

Intimacy +3

Banter +5

[Choice 2 – Overpowered Tranny Nerf]
You sigh dramatically. “I think trans women are actually too powerful. If you’re hot and funny you should have to pick a debuff. It’s only fair.”
He raises a brow. “And what’s your debuff?”
You look at him. “Unfortunately attracted to you.”
He actually stumbles in the sand. “That’s hate speech.”

Flustered Vaush +10

Girlboss Energy +4

[Choice 3 – Super Chuddy Brainrot]
You watch the waves and go, very calmly, “Honestly? I think universal suffrage was a mistake. You should have to pass a basic logic and media literacy test before you’re allowed anywhere near a ballot.”
He chokes. “Jesus Christ.”
“I’m just saying,” you continue, “if you can’t explain how ads work you shouldn’t be allowed to vote on healthcare.”
He’s half laughing, half horrified. “You are the most autistic little fascist I’ve ever wanted to kiss.”

Problematic Take +10

Vaush Woke Coping +7

[Choice 4 – Anti‑Romance Romance]
You look up at the Ferris wheel. “I think marriage should be a five‑year renewable contract. If either person hits the button, confetti cannons go off and everyone claps because you escaped.”
He starts laughing so hard he has to stop walking.
“That’s not anti‑romance,” he wheezes. “That’s just… honest.”
You shrug. “If they renew, then it’s romantic.”

Cynicism +4

Hidden Softness +6

>>43728665
2!!!

>>43728687
>>43728665
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=irZPXRk7DoY

You stop walking and let the waves creep over your toes, cold water biting at your ankles.

“I think trans women are actually too powerful,” you sigh. “If you’re hot and funny you should have to pick a debuff. It’s only fair.”

He looks over, eyebrow up.

“And what’s your debuff?”

You keep your eyes on the water.

“Unfortunately attracted to you.”

There’s a beat of silence. He actually stumbles in the sand like his brain lagged.

“That’s hate speech,” he manages, voice a little higher than usual.

Flustered Vaush +10
Girlboss Energy +4

You finally look at him. His face is half-lit by the glow from the pier, ears a little pink, mouth caught between a protest and a grin.

“What?” you ask, innocent. “You wanted honesty. That’s my tragic flaw. Everything else is min-maxed.”

He huffs out a laugh, shaking his head.

“You say that like it’s not the most flattering debuff imaginable.”

“You’re still a podcaster,” you say. “It’s objectively shameful. I should get disability benefits for finding that attractive.”

“Ouch,” he says, hand to his chest. “Cruel. Correct, but cruel.”

The tide rolls in again. This time he doesn’t step back. Instead he shifts closer, shoulder brushing yours, the warmth of him cutting through the wind coming off the water.

“For what it’s worth,” he says quietly, “if there’s a nerf patch coming for trans women, you’re definitely on the dev watchlist.”

You snort.

“Yeah? Why’s that.”

He turns fully toward you now, one hand coming up, hesitating for half a second near your cheek like he’s giving you time to pull away. You don’t.

“Because you’re stupidly smart, terminally funny, and you look at me like you’re about to either roast me or kiss me,” he says. “And I’m not sure which one I want more.”

File: Vaush kissing you at the (...).png (1.8 MB, 1365x768)

1.8 MB PNG

>>43728754
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=irZPXRk7DoY
He turns fully toward you now, one hand coming up, hesitating for half a second near your cheek like he’s giving you time to pull away. You don’t.

“Because you’re stupidly smart, terminally funny, and you look at me like you’re about to either roast me or kiss me,” he says. “And I’m not sure which one I want more.”

You open your mouth to say something awful, but it never makes it out. He closes the distance, kissing you mid-breath.

It’s not careful. It’s a little too eager, a little too much teeth at first, like he’s been arguing with himself about it for the last half hour and finally lost. His hand slides into your hair, the other settling at your waist, grounding you as the sand shifts under your feet.

For a moment the pier noise and the waves just… drop out. It’s just his mouth on yours, the warmth of him, the way he goes soft after the first second like he’s afraid of spooking you.

You kiss back. Obviously. You’re not a monster.

When you finally pull away, you’re both a little breathless. He rests his forehead against yours, glasses slightly askew.

“So,” he says, voice low. “How’s that debuff treating you?”

You smirk.

“Honestly? Feels kind of overpowered.”

He laughs, relief in it this time.

“Great,” he says. “We’ll hotfix it in the morning.”

File: Gemini_Generated_Image_60(...).png (2.11 MB, 1365x768)

2.11 MB PNG

>>43728787
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0F1BsTyt_XU

He comes back from the food stand dual‑wielding corndogs and a greasy paper boat of fries, face lit up by the pier lights.

“Here,” he says, handing you one like it’s a rare drop. “Gamer fuel for the strongest woman alive.”

It’s embarrassingly perfect. Warm food, cold wind, the ocean right there, neon reflecting in wet planks. For a moment it really does feel like one of those nights your brain is going to rerun forever.

You drift between carnival games. He insists on paying. You keep accidentally winning.

Ring toss? You land three in a row while you’re mid‑sentence.
Shooting gallery? You clear the ducks with lazy precision.
He tries the basketball hoop, bricks every shot, swears it’s “input lag IRL.”

Finally you stop at the classic: knock down the stacked cans to win a giant prize. Dead centre on the top shelf is a massive blåhaj, slightly off‑brand, still perfect.

“Alright,” he says, rolling his shoulders like a boxer. “Stand back. This one’s for you.”

Three throws, three tragic misses. One ball even bounces off the frame and clips his own shin. He winces through a laugh and shoves more crumpled bills at the bored attendant.

“Again.”

He keeps going. Ten throws. Twenty. At some point you’re pretty sure you’ve just watched him spend enough to adopt an entire shark family directly from IKEA. It stops being about the plush and becomes a matter of pride. Wallet −???; Determination +100.

Finally you touch his arm.

“Let me try.”

You take a single ball, weigh it in your hand, line up the shot, and knock the entire pyramid over in one clean hit.

The stall lights flash. The guy behind the counter sighs like he’s seen this exact gendered humiliation a thousand times and wordlessly hands you the biggest, dumbest prize on the rack: the huge blåhaj.

>>43728848
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0F1BsTyt_XU
The stall lights flash. The guy behind the counter sighs like he’s seen this exact gendered humiliation a thousand times and wordlessly hands you the biggest, dumbest prize on the rack: the huge blåhaj.

You hug it to your chest and look at him.

“It’s the thought that counts,” you say softly. “You being stupid about it was the cute part.”

He looks at you for a second, eyes warm, a little helpless.

Stats pop up:

Blåhaj +1

His Pride −3

Your Affection +7

The music swirls with the pier noise, and the game waits for your next move.

[Choice 1 – Soft Romance Route]
You lean your head briefly on his shoulder as you walk away, the blåhaj between you like an excuse.

Physical Closeness +5

Vulnerability +4

[Choice 2 – Gremlin Roast Route]
You nudge him in the ribs with the shark’s nose. “Congrats, king, you just spent a month’s rent proving men can’t aim.”
He groans. “I’m being oppressed in 4K.”

Comedy +6

His Fluster Level +3

[Choice 3 – Autistic Lore Dump Route]
You immediately start explaining the exact angle and force you used, plus how these booths are rigged.
He listens, weirdly charmed. “You’re terrifying,” he says, fond.

Intelligence Thirst +8

Romance +2

[Choice 4 – Horny Tease Route]
You look him dead in the eye. “It’s fine. You don’t have to be good at throwing balls when you’re already good at ruining my life.”
He short‑circuits on the spot.

Sexual Tension +10

Coherence −4

>>43728857
choice 4!!

>>43729016
>>43728857
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t9TdQCdtUeo

You look him dead in the eye.

“It’s fine. You don’t have to be good at throwing balls when you’re already good at ruining my life.”

He just stares at you for a beat, processing, then bursts out laughing, a little too loud for how close you’re standing.

“Okay, wow,” he says. “Weaponized compliment. That was actually insane.”

Sexual Tension +10
Coherence −4

He shifts the fries to one hand, gesturing with the other as you walk.

“You know who could never handle a line like that?” he starts, eyes glinting. “Hasan. I got into this stupid argument with him online once—well, ‘argument’, it was mostly him being fake woke on stream while I malded on my second monitor.”

You snort. “Incredible sentence already.”

“He’s up there like, ‘I love trans people, I’m such an ally,’ and I’m sitting at home like… okay, name three trans women who aren’t just NPC tokens in your chat. It’s all vibes, no lore. Performative as hell.”

He kicks at the sand, warming up.

“Meanwhile I’m out here actually spending my evening making sure one very specific trans woman gets a legally distinct blåhaj. That’s praxis.”

You raise an eyebrow.

“Oh, so you ‘really like trans women’, huh.”

He nods, absolutely shameless.

“Yeah, but not like, chaser‑chaser,” he says. “I just… prefer trans women. Completely normal, non‑objectifying reason. Totally not because you’re smarter, funnier, hotter, and actually understand what oppression is beyond ‘my mommy didn’t clap at my podcast.’”

You stop walking long enough to stare at him.

“That was the most self‑report sentence I’ve ever heard,” you say. “You sound like a guy saying ‘I’m not into feet, I just happen to only date women with interesting arches.’”

He winces, laughing.

“Okay, that’s… fair. Brutal, but fair.”

>>43729060
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t9TdQCdtUeo

You roll your eyes, but there’s a smile tugging at your mouth.

“Congrats,” you say. “You’re a chaser with lore.”

He opens his mouth to protest again, then seems to think better of it. The fight drains out of his shoulders, replaced by something softer.

“Look,” he says, quieter now. “Jokes aside… I just really like you. The whole package. Even the horrible takes. Especially the horrible takes, honestly.”

The music from the pier drifts over, that soft, sentimental track wrapping around the two of you as you walk. He’s quiet for a few steps, then you see his jaw work like he’s arguing with himself.

“…You don’t, uh,” he starts, eyes fixed on the sand, “you don’t watch Hasan lately, right?”

You blink.

“Oh my god,” you say. “Are you actually jealous of a six‑foot Twitch himbo right now?”

He winces.

“I’m just asking,” he mutters. “I’m your favorite podcast bro who supports trans women, right? Like, you’re not out here calling him your parasocial husband and then putting me in the ‘friend of the channel’ tier list.”

You stare at him for a second, then start laughing.

“You need help,” you say. “Terminally insecure debate bro disease.”

He powers through anyway.

“I’m just saying,” he continues, “he’s fake woke and performative. I’m the one actually walking around Santa Monica buying you blåhaj and risking carpal tunnel on rigged games. I really like trans women, he just pretends.”

“You literally just described a chaser with better branding,” you say, smirking.

He groans.

“Why do I talk to you.”

File: Gemini_Generated_Image_r7(...).png (1.79 MB, 1365x768)

1.79 MB PNG

>>43729117
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t9TdQCdtUeo

“You literally just described a chaser with better branding,” you say, smirking.

He groans.

“Why do I talk to you.”

“Because I’m smarter than you and you like it,” you reply, a little too fast.

You feel your face heat in the cold air. The pier lights reflect off the water, off his glasses, off the stupid blåhaj pressed between you.

“Yeah, well,” you add, trying for flippant and landing somewhere closer to shy, “somebody has to keep you humble.”

You step a little closer and, before he can say anything else cursed, you lean in and kiss him on the cheek.

It’s quick but deliberate, your lips warm against his skin, your hand briefly steadying yourself on his arm. When you pull back, his expression has fully blue‑screened.

“Error 404: Masculinity not found,” you murmur.

He touches his cheek like he’s checking it’s still there.

“That was illegal,” he says softly. “Do it again.”

The game waits, the stats quietly updating in the corner of the screen:

Affection +8
Flustered Vaush +6
Blåhaj Ship Level: Upgraded

>>43729126
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t9TdQCdtUeo

[Choice 1 – Soft “You’re Enough” Route]
You bump your shoulder against his, gentle.

“I don’t care about Hasan,” you say. “You’re the one who shows up. That’s what matters.”

His eyes flick to yours, a little stunned, like he expected a joke and got a buff instead.

Reassurance +10

Insecurity −6

Emotional Intimacy +5

[Choice 2 – Hasan Jealousy Roast Route]
You squint at him, lips twitching.

“So you are competing with Hasan,” you say. “Tragic, because right now his KD ratio in my brain is way higher.”

He clutches his chest.

“Betrayed. By my own girlfriend experience.”

You lean in, smirking.

“Relax, you’re winning. He doesn’t buy me sharks or simp for my autism stats.”

Comedy +7

His Hasan Anxiety +4

Your Smugness +6

[Choice 3 – Problematic Chuddy Tease Route]
You tilt your head, considering him.

“Don’t worry,” you say. “If I wanted a six‑foot faux‑socialist landlord with a ring light, I’d go watch Hasan. I’m into the scrunkly little basement Leninist who thinks buying me a plushie is praxis.”

He groans.

“I hate that everything you just said was both defamatory and accurate.”

“You’re my favorite insecure leftist manlet,” you add sweetly. “That’s got to count as a hate crime and a compliment.”

Spiteful Affection +9

His Ego −4

Bit Rate of Banter +10

[Choice 4 – Sappy Romance Route]
You look at him for a second, really look.

“I don’t have a ‘favorite podcast bro,’” you say. “I have you. Hasan’s noise. You’re… the part of my day I actually look forward to.”

He goes very still, like the game just hit a cutscene.

“That’s not fair,” he whispers. “You can’t just crit-hit me like that.”

You lace your fingers briefly with his, the blåhaj squished between you.

“Maybe don’t be so easy to hit, then.”

Heart Melt +12

Future Relationship Flags +1

Vulnerability +8

I need to do a bit of work but I'll be back in just a few hours, I think this is a fun thread, let's keep the thread up. The next scene can be based on votes. You'll have time to read the story and think it over while I'm gone for a bit.

Are you using AI to write this? Kind of seems like it?

>>43729331
Yeah I tell it the specific details of the scene and how to write it then remove things I don’t like and rewrite it several times, but the AI helps me flesh out the story quickly, it also helps me make it more visual novel-like. If it was solely the AI, it’d be much worse. For example, all small details are my ideas like being jealous of Hasan, playing street fighter, you being a computer science student, Santa Monica beach, everything is my idea but it articulates the scene for me.

Hey gamer girl, I'm back if you want to continue the story. I'm at lunch, I'm having Chick-fil-A.

File: vaushv2.jpg (51 KB, 720x957)

51 KB JPG

I need trans girl attention immediately, Hasan can't have them

>>43729377
using AI to make a dating sim between a lolicon commie and a tranny is one of the saddest things a human can possibly do.

>>43731012
Unfortunately I wasn't a lit major, but I have a lot of good ideas. I don't think he was a pedo, I think he saved hentai of a cartoon teenager by accident and didn't know her age. That character was star butterfly but I believe in the depiction she was depicted as much older looking and of age. I'm younger than him but I never saw that cartoon either. I think it was an innocent mistake.

>commie
I think socialism and communism are different things.

>>43729169
3!

File: Vaush pecs.png (1.66 MB, 896x1191)

1.66 MB PNG

>>43732868
>>43729169
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4Gh6Q4LEF-M

You tilt your head, considering him.

“Do not worry,” you say. “If I wanted a fake socialist with Gucci glasses and a Rolex flexing in designer fits, I would go watch Hasan. I like the responsible guy who goes to the thrift shop for weird fashion gems that look like they time traveled out of 20th century Americana. I am into the scrunkly little basement Leninist who thinks buying me a plushie and hitting the thrift store is praxis.”

He groans.

“I hate that everything you just said was both defamatory and accurate.”

“You are my favorite insecure leftist manlet,” you add sweetly. “That has to count as a hate crime and a compliment.”

Spiteful Affection +9
His Ego −4

He laughs, but it comes out a little strained. His shoulders stay tight, hands fidgeting with the edge of the fry boat.

“I am not a manlet,” he mutters, almost to himself. “I am 6'2".”

You stare at him.

“Baby,” you say slowly, “you are absolutely not 6'2".”

“I am,” he insists, already defensive. “It is just bad posture. And slouching. And the ground is uneven. And your perception is biased by bourgeois height propaganda.”

You squint, stepping in closer until you are nearly chest to chest, the blåhaj squished between you.

“Uh huh,” you say. “Sure. Stand up straight then, Mr. 6'2".”

He rolls his eyes but obeys, straightening his back, shoulders pulling back like he is remembering he actually lifts now. The movement makes his hoodie stretch just enough that you notice the shape underneath it, pecs, the line of his chest, the way his arms fill out the sleeves. There is a moment where your brain just disconnects and reconnects with new information.

Oh. He is a little bit sexy.

>>43733765
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4Gh6Q4LEF-M

Oh. He is a little bit sexy.

“See?” he says, trying for smug. “Towering. Statuesque. Terrifyingly tall.”

You pretend to appraise him, but your gaze lingers a second too long on his chest, then his shoulders.

“Okay, first of all,” you say, voice a touch softer, “even if you are rounding up from, like, five ten and a half, I am not complaining.”

He huffs. “Rude.”

“Second of all,” you continue, poking lightly at his chest, feeling the firm give of muscle beneath the fabric, “when did you get these, exactly? Because I swear last year you were built like a gifted ferret who had not seen the sun.”

Color rises to his cheeks, visible even in the neon.

“I have been going to the gym,” he mutters. “You know. Lifting. Trying not to die early. Basic stuff.”

“Mm,” you say thoughtfully, fingers brushing his arm like you are checking his story. “Very responsible of you. My thrifty little himbo Leninist, out here with pecs and delts. Truly the people’s champion.”

He swallows, eyes flicking down to where your hand is still resting on his arm.

“You keep saying stuff like that,” he says quietly, “and I am going to develop a real personality.”

You smile, a bit dazed now that you are noticing the full picture, the way his waist tapers under the hoodie, the warmth of him this close, the mix of vulnerability and pride in his face, the mental image of him combing through some dusty rack for the perfect weird Americana jacket just because it feels like your vibe.

“For the record,” you say, “I do not need you to be 6'2". I like the exact height you are. Easy to kiss, easy to bully, just tall enough to fit the secretly jacked nerd aesthetic. Plus I will pick you in a thrifted denim jacket with mystery history over Gucci socialist guy in a sponsored outfit any day.”

He lets out a helpless little laugh.

>>43733775
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4Gh6Q4LEF-M

He lets out a helpless little laugh.

“You are going to kill me,” he says. “Like, medically. Heart failure.”

You shrug, fingers giving his bicep a brief, appreciative squeeze.

“Occupational hazard of being weirdly hot and emotionally literate,” you murmur. “You should have thought of that before you grew pecs and a conscience and started finding me cursed vintage treasures.”

Affection +10
Body Appreciation +7

You are both still standing way too close for normal conversation, the blåhaj squished between you like a safety buffer that is absolutely not doing its job.

He shifts, like he suddenly remembers he owns a body, then huffs out a breath and shrugs out of his thrifted jacket.

“Too warm,” he mutters. “Global warming arc.”

The jacket slides off his shoulders, and you see it properly now, the way his T shirt clings to him. The fabric stretches across his chest, pulled just enough that the outline of his pecs is obvious, the curve of muscle defined in the neon light. It is not a gym bro caricature, more like he accidentally unlocked actually built on top of terminally online.

Your brain lags.

Oh.

You drag your gaze back up to his face maybe half a second too late.

“What,” he says, defensive on instinct. “Do I have mustard on me or something?”

You force your voice to stay steady.

“No,” you say. “Just recalibrating. Apparently you were not lying about going to the gym, Mr. I am Totally 6'2".”

He snorts. “Told you.”

You reach out and flick a crumb off his shirt, fingers brushing over the firm line of his chest. Up close, you can feel the warmth of him, the solid give of muscle underneath.

“Yeah,” you admit, a little dazed. “Okay. Pecs confirmed. That is annoying.”

“Annoying?” he echoes, half offended, half hopeful.

“Yeah,” you say. “Because now I have to add weirdly jacked to the list of things I pretend not to notice about you.”

>>43733785
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4Gh6Q4LEF-M

“Yeah,” you say. “Because now I have to add weirdly jacked to the list of things I pretend not to notice about you.”

His mouth curves slowly, that crooked, shy smile he gets when he is trying not to look too pleased.

“You notice?” he asks.

You roll your eyes, but it is softer now.

“Babe,” you say, “you are out here with visible pecs in a tight shirt, thrift goblin outerwear from the Great American Garage Sale of History, and a brain that will not shut up about material conditions. I would have to be blind and concussed not to notice.”

He laughs, the sound loosening some last bit of tension in his shoulders. He hooks the jacket over one finger, like he has to do something with his hands or he will short circuit again.

“Good,” he says, a little breathless. “Because I have been trying. You know. To be someone you could look at and go, yeah, that one. That is my guy.”

You take a half step closer, letting your free hand rest lightly against his chest this time, with no pretense of picking off crumbs.

“I already do,” you say quietly. “Shirt or no shirt upgrade. Pecs are just DLC.”

Affection +11
Body Confidence +8
Shirt Appreciation Buff: Applied

>>43733794
[Choice 1]
You look at his mouth, then at the blåhaj like it is a camera.
“I have decided,” you say.
He swallows. “Yeah?”
“Chat, we finally pulled a 5‑star cis guy with empathy. Limited banner.”
“Do not call me a pull.”
“As a /tttt/ rep I am required to run QA,” you say. “We have to test if you kiss like a debate bro or like a man with feelings.”
He starts to protest. You grab his shirt, kiss him once, quick and ambush style, then lean back.
“Hm. Disgustingly sincere. Further testing required.”

[Choice 2]
Your hand is still on his chest. His pulse is ridiculous.
“Come here,” you say.
You bunch his shirt and drag him down. The kiss lands too hard, both of you startled laughing, then it smooths out, warm and greedy. His hand finds your waist, the blåhaj crushed between you. When you break, you are both breathless and wide eyed.

[Choice 3]
“You know what the worst part is?” you say.
He braces. “There is a worst part?”
“I actually like you,” you say. “In a horrible, feelings having way.”
He freezes. You roll your eyes, hook a hand at his jaw, and kiss him slow, no bit, no joke. When you pull back you rest your forehead against his.
“Congrats,” you murmur. “You are dating a gremlin now.”

[Choice 4]
He leans in a little, hopeful, and you feel the moment tilting. You put a hand on his chest, not pushing hard, just enough.
“Hey,” you say softly. “I like you. A lot. But I am not ready to do the whole kissing thing tonight.”
His face falls for half a second, then he catches himself. “Right. Yeah. That is fine. Totally fine.”
You squeeze his shirt where your hand rests. “It is not a no forever. It is a ‘my brain is still loading’.”
He lets out a breathy laugh. “Okay. I can wait for the loading screen.”
You bump his shoulder with yours and keep walking beside him, fingers very nearly brushing.

File: vaush shirtless.png (1.89 MB, 818x1191)

1.89 MB PNG

Now that Vaush is /fit/, here's a picture of him shirtless while I wait for the next choice selection.

>>43728085
vaush doesn't even talk like this

>>43734362
going to crop out his face so i don't die of shame while i jack off to this

>>43734426
i'm pretty sure it's ai, it doesn't seem like something he would post, he's not like hasan

File: handsome vaush.png (424 KB, 775x358)

424 KB PNG

>>43734453
Here are my favorite non-AI pictures of Vaush, he's a very handsome lad.
>>43734426
Nice, nona.
>>43734388
All I do is watch Vaush 24/7 while I work, I have like 75% Vaush in my DNA at this point. If you read the dialogue in his voice, it'll sound more like him.
>>43731222
>>43729331
Also I used AI to flesh out the story for me, but pretty much everything is done by me. The ideas, scenes, dialogue. The AI is just better at writing, I use it to rewrite my emails at work. The AI isn't creative, it just uses pattern recognition to fix grammar. Stories fully written by AI suck so much more.

>>43734362
what the fuck he is way hairier than this OBVIOUSLY. fuck ai kill ai every ai user is evil

File: Vaush real pic from months ago.png (1.5 MB, 807x1191)

1.5 MB PNG

>>43734644
Don't you know the lore? Voosh has been hitting the gym so he decided to trim his bear body a bit for maximum efficiency in regards to hygiene and body odor

File: vaush thinking.png (1.52 MB, 803x1191)

1.52 MB PNG

It seems the women no longer care about the story now that Vaush took off his shirt, so here's a pic of Vaush thinking pensively in the Le Penseur pose at the Santa Monica pier on a date with you

He's thinking of what next to say to impress you and make you like him

File: stem club (1).png (36 KB, 408x414)

36 KB PNG

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hWhgrA2dhrk

Main Character is an 18 year old trans woman in her first year of computer science at UCLA. She is a decently cute brunette who has been on HRT for four years, and it shows in the way she carries herself: soft edges, warm eyes, and a posture that only recently stopped apologizing for existing. She boymoded for two years, quietly doing the work in the background, before finally getting all her documents changed and going full time as a girl in her senior year of high school. Once she flipped that switch, she went all in. She threw herself into voice training, makeup experiments, and learning female socialization like it was another AP class. She worked hard to be read as a woman, and she is secretly proud of how far she has come, even if she rarely says that out loud.

As a kid she was bullied, so there is still a dent in her self esteem under all the progress. Compliments bounce off a little; criticism sticks too easily. Going full time helped. Being “just another girl” at school for that last year, instead of the weird kid, gave her confidence she never had before. At UCLA she is the type who sits front row, color codes notes, and is quietly pulling As in all her CS classes while insisting she is “probably failing.” She copes with stress by studying, doomscrolling, and writing long posts no one asked for.

>>43734963
She meets Vaush at the UCLA Queer and Trans in STEM (qtSTEM) club. He is a third year sociology and philosophy major, smart but lazy, coasting on Cs and vibes. Outside class he is an up and coming podcast bro in the online left sphere, streaming debates and takes from his cramped apartment to a slowly growing audience that quotes him back at him in DMs. He freely admits he originally showed up to qtSTEM to “pick up trans chicks,” so he becomes the club’s semi ironic token chaser, even though he keeps insisting he is not one. Main Character clocks him immediately as “woke guy with too many Opinions” and files him under “cringe, in a cute way.” He is loud, earnest, and very online; she is quieter, more guarded, and just as terminally online but in a different direction.

Main Character herself is a little chuddy on some issues, with “problematic” takes she will not fully explain to anyone. When pressed, she deflects with jokes or changes the subject. Over time though, hanging out with Vaush, she softens around the edges. His insistence on empathy and solidarity rubs off on her; her cynicism and dark humor ground him when his podcast brain starts spiraling. They end up as genuinely good friends with a lot of unresolved romantic tension. Friends in qtSTEM absolutely ship them, make jokes about “the token chaser and his favorite trans girl,” and conveniently leave them alone together way too often.

I can continue this story in the morning if you ladies keep it bumped.

if not, it was fun. sayonara. goodnight

bump