**Bro, Am I Really Hot Now?**
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Title: **Bro, Am I Really Hot Now?**
---
The sun was merciless on Daytona Beach—blazing, blinding, and roasting us alive. Some things, at least, never change, even when half the world’s been shuffled like a deck of Pokémon cards.
I stood in the squishy sand, holding up my phone. My best friend—well, my best friend’s *brain*—posed awkwardly ten feet away in a tiny, neon pink bikini. Meet Brittany. Or, as I knew *him*: Trevor.
Trevor had gotten the best possible roll in the dice game of The Great Shift. He now occupied the body of an influencer so genetically blessed it was almost criminal: platinum hair, blinding smile, and curves that could cause traffic accidents. And let me tell you, Trevor *loved* it.
Today, he (she? we hadn’t worked out the pronouns) stretched dramatically, arching what I can only describe as *an absolutely ridiculous* butt toward me.
"Okay, Daniel, is my butt even in the frame? I want people to see the, you know," he pivoted, giving it a shake, "the asset."
I tried to focus on the screen, avoiding any direct eye contact with the, uh, asset. "Yeah, man, I mean—Brit—it’s kind of hard *not* to get your butt in the shot. It’s like taking a picture of Mount Rushmore and hoping the faces don’t sneak into the photo."
Trevor laughed, his new voice sounding musical. "Shut up. This thing is wild. I swear to god, every step I can *feel* it behind me. I keep thinking I sat in pudding."
"You, uh, wanna try another pose?"
He gave me an exasperated look, then pouted for the camera. "Dude, you’re supposed to pretend to be my Instagram Boyfriend. Lean into it! ‘Show me you want me, babe!’" He batted his lashes. "That’s basically what Bryanna’s old boyfriend did every hour of the day, judging by her DM’s."
"Sorry, sorry," I said, snapping a few. "Should I do landscape or portrait? You’re, like, a lot of body to fit in one frame."
He rolled his eyes. "Do both! Gotta keep the new followers happy. Honestly, her engagement went way up since I started blogging about being a dude in a bombshell body. Check this out." He wiggled his phone toward me. “‘Day 27: Boobs are heavy. How do women run?’ That got me 4,000 likes and three bras in the mail."
"You’re kidding," I said, snapping more. "People just send you bras?"
"And protein powder! I told them my glutes are sore from squats and now I have enough protein to feed an orphanage. By the way, do these look even to you?" Trevor hefted his chest with a look of scientific curiosity.
I choked. "Uh—I’m not sure I’m qualified for this job, man—ma’am—Brit—Trev—"
He giggled, clapping a perfectly manicured hand to his mouth. "Relax, it’s still me in here. I still want to play Call of Duty, I just also want to see if I can make money talking about stretch marks."
He turned, arching his back in what I assume is the Official Influencer Pose. "Okay, new idea. Get a shot from behind, but then I look back *just* a little over my shoulder, real sly, like—"
He tossed his hair and shot me a grin. “You never realized how many tricks girls do to look cute, huh?”
“There’s a lot of head tosses, yeah,” I said.
“And about the boobs—dude. These things have their own *gravity*. Last night, I tried to sleep on my stomach and thought I’d asphyxiate.”
“Nature’s airbags?”
“Ha! More like airbags that follow you into every room. You wanna know the real kicker?”
“Hit me.”
“I finally understand why girls get mad when you buy them a milkshake and say it’ll go straight to their butt. *It does!* Watch this.” He strutted away a few steps, hips swaying, then looked back. “Seriously. The jiggle is insane. I’m like a slinky wrapped in bubble wrap.”
I doubled over laughing. “Dude, you’ve changed.”
He posed again, serious now. “Be honest, do I need to suck in my stomach? I keep worrying there’s, like…influencer rules. Or should I just own it and post #DadBodButHot?”
I snapped a burst of photos while he angled his chest. “I mean, with that body, you can probably eat a pizza and no one would notice.”
He grinned, flashing perfect teeth. “Watch me. But take a few more, okay? Should I do a boob shot first, or butt? I need a new banner for Tiktok and these people are *ravenous*.”
“Why not both at once?” I said.
He brightened. “Genius! See, this is why you get 40% of my sponsorships. By the way, if this Shift ever reverses, you’re not allowed to hold any of this against me.”
I shook my head with a laugh as he adjusted his bikini top and struck another pose. “Bro, you’re never living this down.”
He winked at me. “I didn’t think so. Now, get my good side!”
---
Thirty minutes and a hundred photos later, we collapsed on our towels, both sunburned and breathless from laughter.
Trevor grinned with his new lips. “Next week, you’re teaching me how to drive in wedges.”
I groaned. “Deal. But only if you finally let *me* pick the beach playlist.”
“You got it, bro. Just make sure it’s got plenty of Lizzo. These hips *demand* it.”
And just when I thought our trip couldn’t get any weirder, I snapped one last photo for his fans, thinking maybe, just maybe, the Great Shift was the best thing that ever happened to my goofball friend.
This story was generated by user zach3 with assistance by one of OpenAI’s large-scale language-generation model; prompts used to help generate the story are shown below.
Images were generated with OpenAI's AI system, DALL·E 2, or uploaded by the user.
AI Prompts
Prompt: Me and my buddy were supposed to be going on a guys trip together. But of course the great shift which is a phenomena where 50 percent of the world swaps bodies came and changed all our plans. He swapped into the body of a hot influencer. Today when we were on the beach he kept asking me to take photos of him. He still posts to her social media accounts. However, even though he still posts thirst traps, most of his posts are about his life swapping with a babe after the great shift. His new followers seem to love him. Now he wants me to take photos for him and he asks me if he should take a boob or a butt shot first. He complains about the extra 10 pounds he is carrying up front on his chest and then jokes about having jiggle in his ass when he walks now while resting a hand on his tight but big booty Write the story with a ton of dialogue and good description and add character names. My friend is now an extremely curvy and busty blonde influencer with a perfect body she's 22 years old
Response: Title: **Bro, Am I Really Hot Now?** --- The sun was merciless on Daytona Beach—blazing, blinding, and roasting us alive. Some things, at least, never change, even when half the world’s been shuffled like a deck of Pokémon cards. I stood in the squishy sand, holding up my phone. My best friend—well, my best friend’s *brain*—posed awkwardly ten feet away in a tiny, neon pink bikini. Meet Brittany. Or, as I knew *him*: Trevor. Trevor had gotten the best possible roll in the dice game of The Great Shift. He now occupied the body of an influencer so genetically blessed it was almost criminal: platinum hair, blinding smile, and curves that could cause traffic accidents. And let me tell you, Trevor *loved* it. Today, he (she? we hadn’t worked out the pronouns) stretched dramatically, arching what I can only describe as *an absolutely ridiculous* butt toward me. "Okay, Daniel, is my butt even in the frame? I want people to see the, you know," he pivoted, giving it a shake, "the asset." I tried to focus on the screen, avoiding any direct eye contact with the, uh, asset. "Yeah, man, I mean—Brit—it’s kind of hard *not* to get your butt in the shot. It’s like taking a picture of Mount Rushmore and hoping the faces don’t sneak into the photo." Trevor laughed, his new voice sounding musical. "Shut up. This thing is wild. I swear to god, every step I can *feel* it behind me. I keep thinking I sat in pudding." "You, uh, wanna try another pose?" He gave me an exasperated look, then pouted for the camera. "Dude, you’re supposed to pretend to be my Instagram Boyfriend. Lean into it! ‘Show me you want me, babe!’" He batted his lashes. "That’s basically what Bryanna’s old boyfriend did every hour of the day, judging by her DM’s." "Sorry, sorry," I said, snapping a few. "Should I do landscape or portrait? You’re, like, a lot of body to fit in one frame." He rolled his eyes. "Do both! Gotta keep the new followers happy. Honestly, her engagement went way up since I started blogging about being a dude in a bombshell body. Check this out." He wiggled his phone toward me. “‘Day 27: Boobs are heavy. How do women run?’ That got me 4,000 likes and three bras in the mail." "You’re kidding," I said, snapping more. "People just send you bras?" "And protein powder! I told them my glutes are sore from squats and now I have enough protein to feed an orphanage. By the way, do these look even to you?" Trevor hefted his chest with a look of scientific curiosity. I choked. "Uh—I’m not sure I’m qualified for this job, man—ma’am—Brit—Trev—" He giggled, clapping a perfectly manicured hand to his mouth. "Relax, it’s still me in here. I still want to play Call of Duty, I just also want to see if I can make money talking about stretch marks." He turned, arching his back in what I assume is the Official Influencer Pose. "Okay, new idea. Get a shot from behind, but then I look back *just* a little over my shoulder, real sly, like—" He tossed his hair and shot me a grin. “You never realized how many tricks girls do to look cute, huh?” “There’s a lot of head tosses, yeah,” I said. “And about the boobs—dude. These things have their own *gravity*. Last night, I tried to sleep on my stomach and thought I’d asphyxiate.” “Nature’s airbags?” “Ha! More like airbags that follow you into every room. You wanna know the real kicker?” “Hit me.” “I finally understand why girls get mad when you buy them a milkshake and say it’ll go straight to their butt. *It does!* Watch this.” He strutted away a few steps, hips swaying, then looked back. “Seriously. The jiggle is insane. I’m like a slinky wrapped in bubble wrap.” I doubled over laughing. “Dude, you’ve changed.” He posed again, serious now. “Be honest, do I need to suck in my stomach? I keep worrying there’s, like…influencer rules. Or should I just own it and post #DadBodButHot?” I snapped a burst of photos while he angled his chest. “I mean, with that body, you can probably eat a pizza and no one would notice.” He grinned, flashing perfect teeth. “Watch me. But take a few more, okay? Should I do a boob shot first, or butt? I need a new banner for Tiktok and these people are *ravenous*.” “Why not both at once?” I said. He brightened. “Genius! See, this is why you get 40% of my sponsorships. By the way, if this Shift ever reverses, you’re not allowed to hold any of this against me.” I shook my head with a laugh as he adjusted his bikini top and struck another pose. “Bro, you’re never living this down.” He winked at me. “I didn’t think so. Now, get my good side!” --- Thirty minutes and a hundred photos later, we collapsed on our towels, both sunburned and breathless from laughter. Trevor grinned with his new lips. “Next week, you’re teaching me how to drive in wedges.” I groaned. “Deal. But only if you finally let *me* pick the beach playlist.” “You got it, bro. Just make sure it’s got plenty of Lizzo. These hips *demand* it.” And just when I thought our trip couldn’t get any weirder, I snapped one last photo for his fans, thinking maybe, just maybe, the Great Shift was the best thing that ever happened to my goofball friend.
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