#Automatic Excess

[thejoyofviolentmovement]

New Video: Automatic Shares Slow-Burning "Turn Away"

New Video: Automatic Shares Slow-Burning "Turn Away" @automatic_band @stonesthrow @grandstandhq

Los Angeles-based post punk outfit Automatic — Izzy Glaudini (synths, vocals), Lola Dompé (drums, vocals) and Halle Saxon (bass, vocals) — can trace their origins to their hometown’s DIY scene: Each individual member had been immersed in the scene when they met. They started jamming back in 2017. The trio quickly became a local club circuit mainstay. Their full-length debut, 2019’s Signals saw…

[yawpyawp]

this goes without saying but omg moving is SO EXPENSIVE lol today i spent so much $$$ just on new supplies for Richard P rip

[ghastbutlikegay]

dudes ive hit a point with The Horrors:tm: where im unable to convince myself that any of my friends actually like me

[thetrekkiehasthephonebox]

dear lord

[bloogers-boogers]

Kyle Brofloski/ Eric Cartman (SP FIC) part 3

/A player with lies/

Fatass can actually move? Kyle gets overly pissy for no good reason and Stan needs a damn break

Slight warning ⚠️ the characters name says it all, if you're not comfortable with the ship then this isn't for you, but if you are then hop on in and enjoy the ride ☆

~~~~

It was a beautiful morning, three boys waited patiently for the bus to arrive, it was a Friday, meaning it's time to finally take a break from school after a hell of a week.

Stan was on his phone as he scrolled effortlessly through his social media, liking randomly posts with out putting to much thought on it.

Kyle yawned tirelessly as he was still caught on doing extra work for school the last few days because of his lack of attendance from last month, so yeah, sucks for Kyle.

And dear Kenny found himself watching some porn shamelessly with out earphones on, as he grinned watching big boobs appear on screen.

The absence of their fourth friend wasn't too noticeable, as Cartman had the tendency to do shit in the morning after breakfast making him come either too late or too early depending on the scheme he's doing.

A blonde beaming boy walked their way, placing himself infront of them, a little too cheerful for their liking.

"Morning to you, Butters," Stan commented, more like a question than a greeting.

"Mornin' hasn't Eric arrived?," he asked glancing at his spot.

Neither bother answering as it was obvious he hasn't.

"Geez, he must be really excited today," He commented as he took out his phone and typed in some music, Kyle arched a brow confused.

"Let me guess, he's 'excited' to lay in bed, doing absolutely nothing, eating junk food for two days straight." Kyle sarcastically said, making the other two boys laugh.

Butters tilted his head, bewildered as he eyed him. Making Kyle feel insecure about being stare down like if he didn't know what he was talking about. He knew the fatass, no one should make him feel like he didn't.

It's Cartman, what else could Cartman be possibly excited for during the beginning of the weekend? If it isn't to lay down in bed and do nothing, mostly school related. Even though he doesn't do much of that either during the week, but still, he had an excuse.

"He.. hasn't told you guys? Oh hamburgers," he looked around, "I think I said too much then," he tried dashing off but Kenny stopped him by placing his hand on his chest pushing him backwards.

"What're you talking about, Butters?," Stan asked, now placing his phone in his pocket.

The blonde scratched his neck nervously before spitting out the truth, "you guys may not know this, but there gonna be a roller derby in town tonight, I thought Eric had already told you guys but-"

"What're you talking about, Butters?," Kyle snapped, gripping on to his shoulders shaking him frantically, "what could possibly Cartman do and hide from us?," He blurted out almost daring.

"Yeah, dude, Cartman's an awful liar, normally he'd come running to us if he was excited about something just to tell us all about it," Stan defended Kyle's argument, even though he found his reaction a little overeating.

"That's what I thought!," Butters exclaimed, letting loose from Kyle's grip, "I figured Eric would've told you by now cause he's been in it since sixth grade. "

"Since sixth grade!?," Kyle blurted out in disbelief, "that's bullshit, Butters. Are you fucking with us? Cartman can't take something seriously for that long!."

"Kyle's right," Kenny chimed in, confused and a little skeptical, "Besides, if Eric's been so serious about something that he's soo into, he would've told me by now."

"And 'in' what!?," Kyle remarked.

"Well if you guys actually let me finish speaking I could explain to you guys what's going on!," Butters snapped now tired, making them all go silent.

"Like I was saying, I'm surprised Eric hasn't told you. Because I do believe he takes it seriously, I've been with him during his games before and he looks.. well, seriously about it?," he explained trying to pick the right words to use, looking at the boys who watched him with odd looks, "guys, Eric's been in the South Park roller derby team for three years, and you guys haven't even realized it? I believe even Clyde knows it! Today's a really important game for him, and he's been waiting for it for the past three months."

Kyle felt his world shattered.

Theres no fucking way.

This is bullshit, he's calling bluff right there.

"Fuck you, Butters," He spat bitter, poking him in the chest aggressively, causing the boy to startle, "FUCKYOU, if you're still willing to pull up this type of shit with Cartman! Trying to mess with us this early in the fucking morning!," Butters slapped his finger away from him, glaring.

"Look Kyle, if you don't believe me then that's all on you, jewboy," he barked back mimicking Cartman's nickname on him, making Kyle snarled.

"Okay guys, calm down," Stan placed himself in the middle of the two boys.

If there someone who's capable on getting to Kyle's level was an angry Butters.

"Butters, you don't have like any proof you could show Kyle or something?," Stan inquired, still skeptical himself.

Butters huffed, as he scroll through his phone shoving it harshly to Kyle's face, earning a groaned from the boy.

"If that isn't enough, why don't you scroll through the south park derby page, ask the coach himself or wait? Ask fucking ERIC!," he screeched out, face heated in temper.

"Dude, chill your hawaiian is showing," Kenny tried calming him down, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"I don't like being called a lying snake," He huffed once more, shoving Kenny's hand away.

Kyle scrolled frustrated through the photos Butters had showed them, they were all separated in a folder called 'Eric' pretty much all the folder had were photos and videos where Eric was included in, or taken with. Or stupid selfies the fatass will take in Butters phone.

What he was frustrated about was that seemingly enough, Eric and Butters were in some type of rally, fat boy grinning wide as Butters thumbs up while being taken the picture.

Date: October 28th, two years ago

On another, it was just Eric seemingly stretching his leg out in some booth, having roller skates on, a white helmet and some gym looking clothing as he glared to what it seemed like nothing but in the background they were plenty of people meaning he must've been glaring at someone.

Date: November 15th, one year ago

Then there was another where Cartman stood full picture, revealing his entire outfit; like a uniform with the number 9 plastered in the front, some red shorts too small for his ass and roller skates on, some black ankle and elbow patches, a green helmet in hand with a white stripe as he posed like he was about to run, grinning confidently.

Date: December 1st, one year ago

And another one, he felt himself being hit by an avalanche of rocks each second he look through each photograph.

Cartman looking forward, some other players beside him showing off their backs, it seemed the photo was taken from a far not as far, but far enough to tell he was about to race and Butters was probably just watching from the crowd.

Cartman's t-shirt said 'South Park derby' plastered big in the back part, words adorned around the large 9 with a goofy cow logo.

Date: January 4th, actual year

He shoved the phone back to Butters, as he glared to the ground defeated. The plan was too elaborate for it to be fake, and there were more photos in there than just those he analyzed.

He clenched his fist tight, and gritted his teeth, holding his head high as he saw Butters leave.

"Wow, I guess Cartman is in the roller derby team," Stan finally spoke out after brief seconds of silence.

"Yeah, I suppose so," Kenny then added.

The silence was now unbearable, Kyle kept contemplating what he just learned. Glancing at the bracelet he held around his wrist 'tsk.'

Stan and Kenny awkwardly shared a concerned look to their friend.

"Maybe Cartman was just too embarrassed to admit it to us?," Stan suggested, trying to relieve the tension that was now formed.

"Probably thought we'd ripped on him, which we definitely would had," Kenny agreed, both boys eyeing the redhead who just stood there unresponsive with a nonchalant expression.

"'Embarrassed' but not embarrassed enough to tell Butters?," he finally snapped, turning his fuming glare at them, "Don't you guys feel betrayed?."

"No," Stan admitted nonchalantly," it's really not a big deal dude, it's not like we all don't play a sport ourselves?," he kept on blabbering, "I play football, you play basketball and Kenny plays with pussy."

"Yeah," Kenny nodded.

"You guys don't get it, we've been friends with Cartman for YEARS, dealt with his shit for years and still, he can't even tell us about being on the derby team? It's not like we haven't seen him do more embarrassing shit! Why all of the sudden is he running off discreetly to play some stupid sport!?," by this point he was all spiteful and riled up, "that bastard doesn't treat us like friends! He treats us like- like some lab rats he likes to test with.

I'm tired of his fucking shit!."

Both boys stood listening not daring to say a word, just letting him spit all his anger out, they've learned by now that it's always best to let Kyle vent out all his frustrating opinions before they spoke out their own.

They knew well enough that he wasn't in all finished.

After like a minute they glanced at each other more surprised that he hadn't added anything else than discovering about their fat friend's secret.

"Well, what you want us to do Kyle? It's not like we can do much." Stan commented.

"Y'know what?," Kyle said with a thoughtful face as he tapped his feet contemplating some type of plan, "maybe we should teach Cartman a lesson about 'friendship' and where it leads people when you overtake advantage of it."

Both boys stared at the red head worrisome not knowing the type of shit they had gotten in to.

"Like what?," Stan follow along, still uncertain about it.

"We're gonna go to that rally and make him fucking lose that so precious game he's been craving for so long."

Bewildered the boys looked at Kyle, speechless.

'My god'

"Kyle, I don't think that's a good idea," Stan tried to reason with him.

"Dude, Cartman does this type of shit with us all the time! This is no different," he blurted out, placing his hands on his hips, "Besides, we have reasons!."

"We do?," Kenny added confused.

"Yes. We do," He said sternly, "he makes us deal with his crap all the time, and we just let him step on us everytime he wants? Cartman little derby game is our payback from all the shit he's made us go through as children! Technically, we're not doing anything wrong," he tried justifying his actions as he walked in circles.

"Dude, you sound like Cartman," Stan blurted out baffled.

"¡IDONOTSOUNDLIKECARTMAN,GODDAMMIT!," he screeched out loud causing them to wince.

Kyle has never felt more betrayed than what he's feeling right now, he doesn't know why this has got him so badly. But it became personal.

He really thought he was already figuring out Cartman and the douche bag, again, makes him reconsider everything!

It's like he's doing it on purpose, he sighed scribbling in his notebook, thinking of a plan to sabotage Cartman's game tonight.

Garrison kept blabbering about his upcoming wedding for like the 100th time of that week, they all already wished he got married and get that shit over with.

He looked to his side, glancing at Cartman who was making paper planes alongside Kenny, throwing it to their sides all dramatic and random flying across the room, among the students. Innocently batting their eyes as Garrison scold them.

Well, it didn't seemed Kenny was too affected by being lied by his BEST FRIEND, was he really the only one who cared to complained? He looked at Stan that was flipping through his textbook not caring for the world.

Cartman seemingly looked in a good mood which just added to his wrath.

He huffed as he rested his chin on his hand.

°°°°

"Dude, are you sure about this?," Stan asked as he zipped his jacket covering the vegetal oil they had planned on sneaking in, "what if Cartman actually gets injured?."

"Do you really care if he does?," Kyle asked skeptical, glancing at a couple of people who walked in the stadium.

"Good point," he added as he grabbed his phone and dialed Kenny, "Dude, did you bring it?."

"I'm on my way dudes, I couldn't find the cheapest brand I could afford but I found some cheap brand on wish," he said frantically as he was running while talking on the phone.

"Whatever dude, just don't die on us," Stan meaningless said before hanging up, "I can't believe we're actually doing this."

"This is for the best, Stan. Think about all the things Cartman has done to us, think about the time he's ripped on you, call you names, taunting you because you have a girlfriend and show you not even an ounce of respect," the redhead kept reassuring to his friend.

Stan frowned as he contemplated his words, now nodding assertively, "yeah, you're right. Fuck that fatass! He's never treated me with respect no matter how many times I followed through his stupid shit and called him a friend," He blurted out, a he held his fist high on to his chest, more confident.

"Atta, Stan," Kyle beamed patting his friend in the back, now turning to look at a panting Kenny.

"I-Im herE.." he continued panting as he took out some marbles out of his jacket to show them.

"Okay, cover those, we don't want to get caught," Kyle shove the marbles back inside his jacket.

They went inside, buying a ticket and glancing at the huge crowd. They didn't know roller derby was that a huge deal for people, the place was packed.

They spotted Butters in one the seats there, headed twoards the boy as they sat next to him.

Butters turned their way, "Oh, geez, you guys actually made it? Does that mean Eric already told you about the derby?," he asked casually, as he sipped from his soda.

Kyle smiled forcefully as he nodded, "yup," he lied.

"Cool," Butters beamed as he waved at some random player there, knowingly who that was.

"So when does the game start?," Kenny asked from the forth seat at the end of Stan.

"You mean the jam?," Butters corrected unfazed, chugging on some chicken nuggets, "the first pass still hasn't initiated. They're still waiting for the seats to be full, and it normally just starts at eight it's still six thirty."

They look at each other not knowing well about how that sport worked, they didn't looked deep in to it.

"Okay, so when does second round start?," Stan added, earning a scoffed from the blonde.

"Didn't Eric bother to explain you guys?," He rolled his eyes, sipping loudly on to his soda purposefully making the other three boys annoyed.

"In derby they're not precisely called 'rounds', they're jams that consistent on a timer of 2 minutes, that, or the lead jammer decides to cut it short," He continued to explained to them, as he beamed waving another player in the rank, "we could say the end of the first period will be thirty minutes in during jams, cause they're two periods. A game last sixty minutes you guys."

They blinked in confusion.

"And.. what exactly are jams again?," Stan winced out apologetically, as Butters groaned annoyed and roll his eyes in response.

"What's hard to understand?," Butters exclaimed in disbelief, "first pass; choosing the lead jammer, no points counted. Second pass; the pointer starts and the first jam is started."

"Dude, what's a jammer?," Stan asked still confused.

"And how the hell do we count a point?," Kenny added.

Butters frowned, "you guys didn't talk to Eric did you," he guessed out making the three boys look at him with blank stares.

"Look, Butters, where here. That's all that matters," Kyle chimed in, as he extended his arm around his shoulder making him arched a brow.

"My god. What're you guys planning to do." He immediately pointed out, realizing their motivates.

One of the perks of being around Cartman for so long is to recognize a liar, manipulative, two face bitch a mile away trying to take advantage of his naive behavior. This knowledge is something Butters holds dear on to, as it's gotten him out of many messed up schemes from his peers before, even from Eric himself. Giving him a boost of confidence while contradicting someone is he didn't agree on what they're doing, saying or opinion. He felt a little more freeing knowing he can atleast not take shit from his friends when he didn't feel like doing so unlike with his parents.

"Well good luck with that," Butters hummed out as he heard their improvised plan, "if you guys want to actually sabotage Eric's skates you're gonna need to do it now before the jam starts. Their break is thirty seconds long before a next jam starts and their longest break is a minute long on mid period, so you should guess, Eric has no plans on taking his skates off," he said nonchalant, now gesturing a snack seller to come towards him, purchasing a bag of gummy bears.

He held in front of Kyle, "these are gonna be for Eric cause he's gonna win no matter what," he said in a confident manner, intending to provoke the red head.

Kyle frowned, "just you wait!," He screamed as he stormed off to the benches, Stan following behind.

'Fucking asshole, who does he think he is?'

He kept on walking ignoring his best friend's complaints, as he halted abruptly, the whole damn reason he was here was because of Cartman, and he didn't even bother to even check if he was there at all. But now, holy damn. Now he couldn't just ignore him. He stood far apart near the circuit track chatting with all his teammates next to the penalty box.

'Wow' his eyes widen, bewildered. He's seen Cartman's in his derby uniform in Butters pictures, but the real deal was entirely different.

It felt like his surroundings just stopped moving as Cartman was the only person there that moved in a very slow dramatic way. Everything becoming blank an fuzzy as the only color there that blossom was Cartman.

And no matter how far Cartman was from him, he felt like he was the closest thing there that his eyes couldn't unfocused on.

'Kyle?'

'Kyle, dude!'

"Huh?," he asked now seemingly confused, turning to look at Stan.

"The oil?," He reminded him.

"Right," He blurted out continuing to move, side eyeing Cartman; as he turned his back flipping off some players from the opposite team.

'Oh god'

He stopped again dumbfounded, contemplating how well those shorts complemented his hips and-

'Kyle!'

"Ah?," He asked startled by the abrupt tone, "right!," He reminded himself, as he shook his head running twoards the benches were the players kept their belongings.

They searched through the bags looking for Cartman's, but they couldn't find it.

"Kyle, look!," Stan pointed out, were the coach sat in a empty bench with a bag seemingly not his.

'That's Cartman's,' he felt it.

"I'll distract him, and you sabotage his skates," Stan ordered, shoving him the oil as he approached the coach.

He nodded, as he slowly pulled the bag away as Stan had forced the coach to help by leading him to the bathroom as he had faked puked.

He opened the bag and looked through Cartman's things, he gripped on to the skates beaming relieved that he hadn't put them on yet. He took the oil from his pocket and opened the lid accidentally dropping it inside the bag. He reached out for it and gripped on to a folded piece of paper.

He examined it closely and seemingly enough, it was definitely a very old careless torn off polaroid folded by the middle. He flipped it open, and found four boys popped up posing silly as one flipped off the camera, another beaming mischievous, the other peace signing smiling, and lastly another making a goofy face.

Those four boys were them.

He felt himself contemplating between the bottle of oil or the polaroid photo, feeling himself softened, unsure of what to do.

He gulped, "C'mon, dude, Cartman's coming," Stan said worrisome, as he grasped his arm dragging him away to their seats.

"So? Did you manage to oil them in time?," Stan asked expectantly, sitting down.

He nodded reluctantly knowing damn well he didn't.

The jam was about to start, as the players got in position. For what Butters had told them, Cartman was the pivot, so he placed himself in the pivot line alongside the opposite team's pivot which is infront of the blockers and lastly behind them, the jammers.

A pivot being the one that normally leads the blockers signaling the strategies that will be put to use, also being the only teammate there that could turn into a jammer during a jam.

Apparently the first pass is where they choose for the the lead jammer.

Then second pass is when the score begins to count.

Or something like that for what he understood.

Kyle bit his nails nervously, watching Cartman smirking mockingly the other pivot. The red shorts and white shirt with the added helmet suit him so well it even looked grossly cute.

He rubbed his face with his hands, he wasn't thinking straight, literally.

He rubbed his legs as he heard a whistle blow initiating the first pass.

He digged his nails on his legs, seeing Cartman skate on the rank was extremely..

"Don't worry, dude, we'll get him next time," Stan reassured him, placing a hand on his shoulder in a comfort gesture. Probably thinking he looked upset that the 'plan' failed.

'Oh God,' he plead merciful, looking Cartman rolling around the track as he 'booty block' a blocker.

He unintentionally bounced his leg frantically, as he keep watching Cartman making sure the jammer pass through with ease.

"We still have the marbles," Kenny reminded, as he was kinda entertained by the game, stealing Cartman's gummy bears from Butters.

But he was already too far off to listen, seeing how a blocker shoulder bumped Cartman's side as he hip trusted his side in response moving him sideways letting his jammer pass through.

Two whistles were heard as the referee gesture south park's jammer as the lead jammer, the crowd cheered as most there were obviously from the town.

Cartman stretched his back, clapping hands with the jammer in a smugly manner.

He quickly stretched down his hands to his toes as he quickly went back to position.

Kyle mentally saving that small moment savoring every second, his leg bounce some more, unknowingly receiving a concerned stare from Stan.

He felt himself heated, as his legs moved frantically, faster, zoning out by the fuzzy and blurry feeling he felt, breathing heavily as he watched Cartman now on his second pass.

He panted, as he tried grasping for air, Stan turned his way giving him a weird look alongside Butters who heard him squeeze.

'Oh god' he thought as he abruptly stood up, dashing to the bathroom, he excused himself as he pushed some people out of the way.

'Hormones, hormones, hormones, stupid hormones!' He screeched angrily smaking his head consistently, earing weird stares from the people around.

He entered the bathroom turning on the sink and splashing water on his face, cooling himself down. Not daring to look down.

He looked at his flustered face, in horror realization, 'there was no fucking way' he eyed his dilated pupils as he gently caressed the side of his eye.

'No. Way.'

Stan dashed after him, entering the bathroom and kneeling beside him as he found his friend curled up in a ball at the floor corner.

"Kyle, what's wrong?," he asked worried.

Kyle hold on to him as he bawled his eyes out, sobbing uncontrollably by the overwhelming emotions.

Stan was left bewildered as Kyle vomit on him still holding him by the arm.

"Dude, chill the fuck out. Tell me what's going on," Stan said sternly holding on to his shoulders making him look at him in the eye.

Kyle swallowed loudly, denying with his head as he stood up tirelessly, "let's just go.."

Stan reluctantly stood up not furthering questioning his friend as he followed behind him brushing off the vomit out off his jacket.

Stan halted looking at his best friend continued walking off, he went to Cartman's bag as he got out a piece of paper writing down 'we need to talk, meet up at yours after your derby race, fatboy -s,' now no longer caring being caught in the rally or snooping in his stuff.

°°°°

Cartman quickly rolled down town, not caring about ruining his derby skates as he was afraid of possible blackmail by the hippie of all people!

He couldn't even celebrate his victory with the guys by getting pizza, cause he had jolted off like a mad man not being able to enjoy his awsome evening.

He gripped tightly his bag as he got to his side of the sidewalk eyeing Stan sitting in his doorstep.

"What the hell do you want," he pointedly accused, almost slipping down by a small peddle.

Stan stood up looking at the floor with both his hands in his pockets.

"I think Kyle's really affected about you not telling us about being in the South Park derby team," he bluntly admitted, causing Cartman to tilt his head confused.

"Huh?," he said.

"Look, fatass, just.. I think you should talk to him." He frowned, glaring at the floor before glaring at him, "Dude, I'm serious, if you try saying some stupid shit to him I promise you I'll tell everyone about the Jody incident," he threatened.

Cartman flinched, "who told you," he shuddered out.

Stan rolled his eyes, "you weren't really being discreet Cartman it was a public park dude, anyone could've seen you ." He shaked his head dismissively, "look, I don't care if you're gay and shit, I just need you to tell Kyle you didn't mean to hide the derby thing from us."

Cartman spat offended, "he kissed me, dude! Not the way around, I was startled okay!?."

"Yeah, whatever dude. Just talk with Kyle," Stan shrugged off indifferent before walking off.

Cartman grumbled, he couldn't believe Stan had saw the incident with Jody. He really wasn't expecting it! That dude just sent him a letter in his locker and he figured it'd be some chick confessing her overbearing love for him not the ginger kid he manipulated back in forth grade.

He sighed as he tossed his bag at the door before taking off his skates angrily and bitter, tossing them to the ground as he walked barefoot to Kyle's front door.

He knocked unwillingly, as he placed his arms behind his back hearing steps head down stairs.

"¿Yeah-" Kyle's mouth flattened, gripping on to the door frame, "what you want, fatass?."

"You're hippie boyfriend complained to me you were upset over the rally thing, I didn't know you'd figured it out," he shamelessly rat on Stan.

Kyle frowned, "I don't care," he spat out dryly.

Cartman stared at him for brief seconds; he wore a white t-shirt and some black square patterns bottom pj's. His gaze fell on the now naked wrist, Cartman figure Kyle would eventually take the bracelet he gave him but now looking at his wrist, it made him feel a little disappointed.

Kyle awkwardly hid his hand when he noticed.

Standing awkwardly for seconds that felt like minutes.

Things between them have just been so awkward nowadays, and Cartman hated to admit why.

"Okay, cool.." he blurted out looking at the ground then turning around and walking back home.

"Wait," Kyle spat out, now holding on to his arm stopping him.

Cartman cursed inside him for feeling his heart skip a beat.

"What do you want?," he shoved his hand off.

"I think we should just.. talk about it," he admittedly struggled out, wincing his eyes, "someone has to put an end to it."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Cartman glared defensively, acting like he didn't know.

"Cut the shit, Cartman. You know, I know," he stated firmly, gripping on to Cartman's shoulders making him look at him, "we should just get it out of our chest and move on."

"I don't know what you're talking? I've moved on, Kahal, but it doesn't seem like you have," Cartman continued lying between teeth, "you're making it weird, our dynamic it's just..flopping? And it's your fault! You broke our rule, kyel," he continued pin blaming Kyle.

Kyle glared at him, "Cartman, were not gonna leave from this spot until we finally discuss it. It's driving me crazy."

"Watch me," he dared trying to leave, but was gripped hard on to his arm earning a '¡owe, Kyel that's hurts!,' "okay, fuck! We'll talk just let me go you asshole!," He whined out in a cry, scowling him as he now let him go, rubbing frantically the injured area.

Things weren't going to turn back to normal. They knew that, it was hard to grasp it. And they've tried so hard to shove it off.

He and Cartman hated change, that was something they both openly agreed on.

Their dynamic has always been like that; they've have some bizarre moment between each other and they shoved it off behind the back of their brains trying to not acknowledge it, trying to not take it seriously. Just getting back to their usual banter ignoring whatever happened between them that shook them off from their usual dynamic. Like a intruder invading a home that was built by scratch and decorated with time and being carefully planned; moving all their stuff and placing them elsewhere, stealing them, breaking them pretty much destroying the property they built for years.

They feared for it to happen again, making new barriers and creating knew strategies to prevent the intruder to make his way back in. Putting up locks and blocking the windows.

Not acknowledging how'd it'd affect them physically and mentally.

Making their little spacious home fell more like a trap, tight, suffocating, imprisoned. Being scared to get out but also craving to get out and breath some air, some freedom.

Screeching for help, as they longer couldn't stand those walls, trying to grasp on the little space they had while it slowly killed them.

They figure it wouldn't be any different now, but they were wrong. They just couldn't, they had went to far pretty much breaking a entire wall out, being in for so long inside the opening freely feeling just being too overwhelming for them to welcomed, handle.

No longer having the energy to just block it, as they were just tired, and the damage was too much to build around it with out destroying it more in the process.

Which they have been doing unintentionally, being so.. out of character, feeling more vulnerable around each other, one being uncontrollably unable to handle his anger and paranoia and the other uncontrollably unable to control his stress and obsessions. The bars were just unbalanced and their personalities were going elsewhere, being mix up with so many feelings they can't just grasp in to it all, having to forcefully grab one an drain it dry inevitable taking all their energy out as they couldn't keep up with the ongoing changing feeling. It felt wrong not being able to control their emotions, it was frustrating not being able to grip on to one, knowing your place and how to act.

It felt so unnatural, and somewhat obsessive being so dependent on each other even when it came to their feelings, characterization and personalities.

Kyle sighed defeated, sitting in the sidewalk, Cartman hesitated before sitting besides him.

Cartman rested his chin in his hand, Kyle half lidded eyes darted to the empty street.

It was time to open up to change.

"So.." Kyle trail off, trying to lighten up the tension between them.

"Kyle, it's clear you don't want to talk about it," Cartman said with a bored face.

"No- I mean I do! It's just.. I don't know were to start," he admitted, looking at the beaming light from the poll from the other sidewalk.

"You mean being some psycho gaywads or about the change of our dynamic?," he guessed, now relaxing his body, shivering lightly as he was already feeling the cold sweep in.

Kyle pouted thoughtful, "honesty? Both," he said, taking out from his sock the bracelet Cartman gave him.

"Seriously? Fucking gross dude," Cartman winced dramatically sticking out his tongue in disgust.

Kyle chuckled unfazed by the comment, "I- I was really angry today cause you didn't tell me about being a south park derby, and somewhat thought I'd be vengeful by throwing my bracelet away, but I just couldn't. I want to have it on me, so I justified myself putting it under my feet for I to continuously stepping on it yet still have it, you get me?."

"Wow, how evil of you," Cartman remarked sarcastic before rolling his eyes feeling a smile crept out his face, "does that mean you've still had it on before today..?" He eyed him expectantly.

"Yeah, dude, I like it. The colors just match well," Kyle nodded admittedly, gently caressing the fabric.

Cartman felt his cheeks heated, flustered embarrassed and slightly flattered, "thanks.." he sighed heavily, "I- I was kinda disappointed you didn't have it on just now," He laughed nervously before playing it off, as he grabbed the bracelet from Kyle's hand and tied it up back on to his wrist.

Kyle let himself smile back by the gesture, letting those feelings invade his now tight fluttered chest.

This felt nice.

"Well now that were being honest here, I was mesmerized by your ass at the derby rally this evening," He shamelessly admitted.

"Woah there, kahal, a little bit too much don't yah think?," he added, a little baffled by Kyle's boldness.

Kyle chuckled, he really enjoyed Cartman's red flustered face. He enjoyed being able to do that.

He leaned forward, "I really liked that kiss," he admitted in a whisper, slyly smirking as he saw Cartman face burning hard red flames, he could swear he even heard a small 'yelp' coming out from his mouth.

Guess the fatass can't find his way to snap back at him, which is a accomplishment on it's own cause Cartman wasn't the one that'll keep his mouth shut always wanting to have the last word into everything even if he had to blabber nonsense to get that.

He squiggle his mouth, moving his eyes fanatically left and right, left, right, left and right again. Kyle cautiously counted each movement, waiting expectantly.

"Me too, jew.." he blurted out after brief swallowing seconds.

"Cool," Kyle nodded, as if he had already knew that.

"About the derby thing, I honestly didn't bothered mentioning it to you guys cause I know the type of assholes you are, not much about.. well it wasn't a you thing," he admitted as he glance the other sidewalk.

Kyle nodded understanding, anger long gone by that point.

"So now what?," Cartman reluctantly asked after another brief seconds of silence.

Kyle shrugged.

They sat for over an hour before being called out by Gerald, who'd ask Kyle to get inside as it was already getting too late. Still not exactly finishing everything they wanted to say but it was enough to bare for the night, Cartman waved goodbye as he left to his home and Kyle stood in his doorstep looking out for Cartman until he saw him get inside his house before reluctantly getting inside himself, contemplating how things unfolded between the two and how good Cartman's gigantic ass looked when he walked off.

Prev — Next

[hoshiyoshis]

ive never hated a doctor quicker than i have now.

[thejoyofviolentmovement]

New Video: Automatic Share Urgent and Angular "Teen Beat"

New Video: Automatic Share Urgent and Angular "Teen Beat" @automatic_band @stonesthrow @grandstandhq

Los Angeles-based post punk outfit Automatic — Izzy Glaudini (synths, vocals), Lola Dompé (drums, vocals) and Halle Saxon (bass, vocals) — met while immersed in their hometown’s DIY scene. They started jamming together back in 2017. Since then, the trio quickly became a local club circuit mainstay. Their full-length debut, 2019’s Signals saw the trio quickly establishing their sound, which…

[batboyblog]

Things the Biden-Harris Administration Did This Week #31

August 9-16 2024

President Biden and Vice-President Harris announced together the successful conclusion of the first negotiations between Medicare and pharmaceutical companies over drug prices. For years Medicare was not allow to directly negotiate princes with drug companies leaving seniors to pay high prices. It has been a Democratic goal for many years to change this. President Biden noted he first introduced a bill to allow these negotiations as a Senator back in 1973. Thanks to Inflation Reduction Act, passed with no Republican support using Vice-President Harris' tie breaking vote, this long time Democratic goal is now a reality. Savings on these first ten drugs are between 38% and 79% and will collectively save seniors $1.8 billion dollars in out of pocket costs. This comes on top of the Biden-Harris Administration already having capped the price of insulin for Medicare's 3.5 million diabetics at $35 a month, as well as the Administration's plan to cap Medicare out of pocket drug costs at $2,000 a year starting January 2025.

President Biden and Vice President Harris have launched a wide ranging all of government effort to crack down on companies wasting customers time with excessive paperwork, hold times, and robots rather than real people. Some of the actions from the "Time is Money" effort include: The FTC and FCC putting forward rules that require companies to make canceling a subscription or service as easy as signing up for it. The Department of Transportation has required automatic refunds for canceled flights. The CFPB is working on rules to require companies to have to allow customers to speak to a real person with just one button click ending endless "doom loops" of recored messages. The CFPB is also working on rules around chatbots, particularly their use from banks. The FTC is working on rules to ban companies from posting fake reviews, suppressing honest negative reviews, or paying for  positive reviews. HHS and the Department of Labor are taking steps to require insurance companies to allow health claims to be submitted online. All these actions come on top of the Biden Administration's efforts to get rid of junk fees.

President Biden and First Lady Jill Biden announced further funding as part of the President's Cancer Moonshot. The Cancer Moonshot was launched by then Vice-President Biden in 2016 in the aftermath of his son Beau Biden's death from brain cancer in late 2015. It was scrapped by Trump as political retaliation against the Obama-Biden Administration. Revived by President Biden in 2022 it has the goal of cutting the number of cancer deaths in half over the next 25 years, saving 4 million lives. Part of the Moonshot is Advanced Research Projects Agency for Health (ARPA-H), grants to help develop cutting edge technology to prevent, detect, and treat cancer. The President and First Lady announced $150 million in ARPA-H grants this week focused on more successful cancer surgeries. With grants to Tulane, Rice, Johns Hopkins, and Dartmouth, among others, they'll help fund imaging and microscope technology that will allow surgeons to more successfully determine if all cancer has been remove, as well as medical imaging focused on preventing damage to healthy tissues during surgeries.

Vice-President Harris announced a 4-year plan to lower housing costs. The Vice-President plans on offering $25,000 to first time home buyers in down-payment support. It's believed this will help support 1 million first time buyers a year. She also called for the building of 3 million more housing units, and a $40 billion innovation fund to spur innovative housing construction. This adds to President Biden's call for a $10,000 tax credit for first time buyers and calls by the President to punish landlords who raise the rent by over 5%.

President Biden Designates the site of the 1908 Springfield Race Riot a National Monument. The two day riot in Illinois capital took place just blocks away from Abraham Lincoln's Springfield home. In August 1908, 17 people die, including a black infant, and 2,000 black refugees were forced to flee the city. As a direct result of the riot, black community leaders and white allies met a few months later in New York and founded the NAACP. The new National Monument will seek to preserve the history and educate the public both on the horrible race riot as well as the foundation of the NAACP. This is the second time President Biden has used his authority to set up a National Monument protecting black history, after setting up the Emmett Till and Mamie Till-Mobley National Monument on Emmett Till's 82nd birthday July 25th 2023.

The Department of The Interior announced $775 million to help cap and clean up orphaned oil and gas wells. The money will help cap wells in 21 states. The Biden-Harris Administration has allocated $4.7 billion to plug orphaned wells, a billion of which has already been distributed. More than 8,200 such wells have been capped since the Bipartisan Infrastructure Law passed in 2022. Orphaned wells leak toxins into communities and are leaking the super greenhouse gas methane. Plugging them will not only improve the health of nearby communities but help fight climate change on a global level.

Vice-President Harris announced plans to ban price-gouging in the food and grocery industries. This would be a first ever federal ban on price gouging and Harris called for clear "rules of the road" on price rises in food, and strong penalties from the FTC for those who break them. This is in line with President Biden's launching of a federal Strike Force on Unfair and Illegal Pricing in March, and Democratic Senator Bob Casey's bill to ban "shrinkflation". In response to this pressure from Democrats on price gouging and after aggressive questions by Senator Casey and Senator Elizabeth Warren, the supermarket giant Kroger proposed dropping prices by a billion dollars

[hitech-automations]

#bestindustry#bestoffers#OnTimeDelivery#bestprice#goodservice#donateorgansavelives#Hi-Hi-Tech Automation#DrugFreeIndia#doubleoverload

The overload relay is wired in series with the motor, so the current that flows to the motor when the motor is operating also flows through the overload relay. It will trip at a certain level when there is excess current flowing through it. This causes the circuit between the motor and the power source to open.

What is the purpose of overload relay?

Overload relays cut off current to the motor when a high-current situation develops due to a ground fault, short circuit, phase failure, or mechanical jamming. They are an inexpensive way of avoiding downtime for repair or replacement of failed motors from excessive current

How is an overload relay reset?

When set in the H or HAND position the RESET button must be pressed manually to reset the overload relay after a tripping event. On the other hand, when set in A or AUTO position, the overload relay will reset automatically after a tripping event

[idontcare4urmom]

𝑊𝐴𝑇𝐶𝐻 𝑌𝑂𝑈𝑅 𝑀𝑂𝑈𝑇𝐻 || Chris sturniolo

𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦: you make the terrible mistake of quip referring to your ex’s name and behaviour during an argument with your boyfriend Chris,leading to things taking a wild twist when his possessive impulses take over.

𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑎𝑖𝑛𝑠: yelling and cursing,smut,unprotected and rough sex,clit playing,fingering,orgasming multiple times,pet names,dirty talk,praising,degradation,hair yanking,spanking,overstimulation,etc.

𝑎／𝑛: my first language is not english,sorry for any mistakes.

you heavily huff out a breath out from your nose while standing there,dealing with his yelling and complaining once again.the reasonings of your arguments lately kept getting more and more ridiculous to be honest,yet you weren’t able to prevent them anymore.

“i told you plenty amount of times Chris,it wasn’t my fucking fault that i had to cancel,my mom neede-“

“ugh i am tired of this! always the same bullshit excuse,it’s the third one you are doing this in a month” he shouted out abruptly,instantly regretting it once he observed the way your jaw clenched along with your eyes holding back the bawling.

he was genuinely about to apologize after he softly sighed,reaching out for your shoulder but for you to just snap backwards,he was caught off guard by the action,however it was what you mumbled next that pissed him off frantically.

“fuck off,James would never had treated me that way,he would understand”

oh Chris could sense his blood boil as soon as that sentence came out of your lips,his fists automatically closing into his sides with his pupils taking over a menacing gleam that popped out raw frustration.

he despises nothing more but that man,especially since he was aware of how head over heels you used to be for him a year ago.

disbelief slowly crosses over your features when he somehow answers calmly,a vigorously edge drizzling his voice “watch your mouth pretty girl,we all know that i treat you way better than he did”

your stubbornness inched to deny,to fight back,although an other part of you wanted to play safe,sending him a piercing glare and then staying completely silent,letting the quietness hang over the air until he broke it himself.

“you are not really helping yourself out sweetheart” it was obvious that he was mentally referring at your lack of response,stepping impossible close to you so he can with a light shove launch you on the mattress of your bed,

he immediately hovered above your figure,both of his legs encircling your sides before he began to undress you,making sure to take purposefully brush your skin in whatever chance,and you were more than surprised by the suddenness of his gestures.

“what are you-“

now it was his turn to not reply,greedily discarding to the floor any fabric that covers you up and leaving you in just your thong on,causing you to squirm as air bubbles the peel of your body.about to speak up,he withdrew that opportunity by smashing down his lips to your’s,kissing you with a passionate fever.

the contact was additionally excessive and demanding,making you touch starved as his mouth coated your's blissfully,his palms strolling down on your skin to land on the curve of your ass,gropping it in between his fingers before giving it a firm slap,stumulating a soft gasp from you.

there wasn't any second to protest,him already flipped over on your stomach with him positioned against you from behind.you could sensate the numbness on the fabric of your underwear curating your warm heat while his hand grounded down on your delicate buttocks again and again,only dragging out lewd whimpers for a response.

"aw what's wrong baby? too sensitive to handle this? sould have thought about that earlier" he cooed mockingly,his free index finger polling under your panties,tugging them down and teasing his touch everywhere but on your center that was practically begging for relief.

a muffled sinister snicker escaped him when your hips rolled high,desperately yet silently pulsating for more.

"not so fast baby,now tell me first..was James able to get you like this? all whiney from just a little spanking as if you are a whore in heat?"

his words for some reason only fuelled your desire further,especially from the tone of absolute disgust dripping from his lips at the mention of your past partner.

you managed to only high pitch a “no” that cracked into a moan of ecstasy when he finally started rubbing your drenched bud and clit rhythmically,pinching it at the edge of his curvy digit.

you scratched furiously the surface of the headboard that was tangled within your hands,your head interred on the soft layer of pillow as your boyfriend continued to pleasure you,sending jolts of shivering through your entire body.

his experienced tongue darted to loop at the nape of your neck and collarbone,choking out a strained moan once the roots of your hair were pulled backwards,angling the perfect length of exposed skin “Chris- “mhm,i know baby don’t worry,you can take it”

you shallowed the lump that formed on your throat as he repeatedly draw patterns of bite nibbling on you,his ring and pinky finger inserting around your entrance before unexpectedly slipping inside,coaxing from you a gasp “oh fuck!”

“that’s it baby,have to stretch your out really fast,gotta prepare you for my dick later,okay?” you just nodded,drowning at the nirvana you were receiving while he pumped and curled smoothly his fingertips on your insides,hugging all the right spots perfectly.

you clasped the sheets below you since you felt your upcoming orgasm rising fast,the uncomfortable tight pressure on your lower abdomen causing you to clench around his hand and without a warning erupt into busts of cum that glistened your legs with arousal.

he didn’t wasted any second to haul off his jeans along with his boxers in one movement,wrathfully stroking the overwhelmed bulge of his leaking head while roaming his gaze at the sight in front of him,you being already fucked out,

he aligned himself at your opening,his chest squeezing your spine as he effortlessly and powerfully thrusted in your hole,eliciting a groan from the both of you.still affected for your previous release though,you mumbled a follow of curses “shit Chris,’m sensitive”

“shh baby,you will be fine i promise,you just have to do what you know the best for a few minutes,managing my cock like a good whore” he murmured soothingly yet demandingly,his hips swirling forward in a newfound pace and warmth that made your head spin.

the “few minutes” was totally a lie to say the least,cause after the multiple rounds you couldn’t even count anymore how many times you came undone around his length,your vision blurry with tears dropping down your cheeks.

the only possible hunch you could currently store in your memory was his every vein and muscle pulsing in your sweet spot with no mercy,the noise of skin to skin clapping together with mixed gasps and mewls resonating nonstop.

“t-too much!” you sobbed out once he increased the speed of his pounding at the same time his mouth wrapped around your perky nipple,his teeth gently twisting the flesh.

completely vulnerable and at his mercy,he finally stopped when he decided that you actually had enough,lazily pushing back and forth for a last time before his seed overflowed you entirely like a wave for the fourth(?) time.

the soreness and pain you felt when he pulled out from your pussy was not able to be described,but at the same time,there was no doubt about this being your best ever sex session with him.

and you also were now sure for one “lesson” : to never test Chris’ limits again

——————————————

ehhh i finally ended this i hope you guys like it cause i don’t want to disappoint you 🥹🫶🏻

tags!: @sleepysturniolo @muwapsturniolo @bratty-eliana44 @verywonderlandpolice @2muchofaslvt @sophiaxsblog @cayleeuhithinknot @yourfavg1nger @lianomer @joemamaaa42069 @chrispotatos @bagsbyclair0 @xprakzif @wiidfi0wer33 @zainabthescientist @freakbob15 @cutiepaiquill @buckys-goodgirl @chrisstvrns @fakeesyd

i lowkey wanna make an official taglist but i am scared that no one will want to be on it fr

[oatmilkandvellichor]

slowly remembering so many of the reasons why i avoid being wordy online like the plague

[gay-dorito-dust]

can i req deadpool and wolverine kinda fighting over your attention in the poly relationship and it making reader kinda sad so they both just switch to comfort mode :3 oki thank you 💓

You hated it whenever Wade and Logan fought over you. It didn’t feel as though they were doing it to have quality time with you but more so to have bragging rights over the other.

You hated it as it made you feel almost undervalued by them, which you knew was utter bullshit, but your thoughts often won out and got the better of you as you were forced to watch your beloved partners go for each others throats…again.

‘Pookie bear please tell this scruffy lumberjack that you’d much rather be with me to cuddle.’ Wade said as he stared Logan down with a shit eating grin. However before you could even open your mouth to answer, Logan interrupted. ‘No, tell scrotum face over here that you’d rather spend time with me.’ He practically barked as he stepped closer towards Wade until the two were now chest to chest and face to face.

You sighed- upset and disappointed- and got up from the couch and began to make your way out of the room, not wanting to watch your lovers skewer each other over something so stupid. ‘Not thanks, I’m not in the cuddling mood. Thanks for asking I guess.’ You told them as you shut the door behind you, leaving the pair to wonder what the fuck has just happened before automatically pointing the finger at each other as per usual when things didn’t go right.

‘The fuck did you do this time.’ Logan growled and Wade held up his hands in surrender.

‘I didn’t do shit! If anything you probably pissed my cutie pie off more so than me.’ He tells Logan who only looks at him as though he had just grown a second head. ‘Me? You think I pissed y/n off? They didn’t look pissed they looked sad you humanoid nutsack and it’s because of us always fighting!’ He spat as he then realised what he has said as it all clicked for him. You hadn’t looked happy in the slightest recently and them fighting didn’t seem to make matters better, you were dating both of them, not one but it seemed that with how they went about it must’ve drove you away from them in that aspect.

Wade, slowly lowering his hands, also realised the same thing Logan did and couldn’t help but feel partially to blame for this as much as Logan blamed himself. Neither men liked to share and so being in a relationship with you but also each other was something they were -still- yet to get use to, and in the process that was what made you feel somewhat neglected and pushed to the sidelines by the both of them. ‘I would rather disembowl myself, rip my nuts off and use them as nunchucks to hit myself then let my pookie cutie stay sad.’

Logan made a face but shrugs it off as Wade being Wade as they both made their way out of the room. ‘I agree with the sentiment but for the record if anyone is hitting you repeatedly with the nut-nunchucks it’s me.’

Wade smacks him on the ass, causing him to grunt and glare at him, ‘see! Now we’re getting a long my sexy, scruffy lumberjack! Now to excessively comfort our cutie patootie with the booty!’ He exclaimed as they made their way to your shared room, just to find you buried under the covers almost motionless.

‘Hi peanut.’ Wade greets softly as you peered at them over the bedsheets.

‘You done fighting already?’ You asked before tucking the bedsheets up under your chin, ‘That was quick, quicker than usual at least.’ You add as Wade and Logan sat on either side of you on the bed with worry written in their eyes.

‘We’re sorry if us fighting all the time is making you think we don’t care about you.’ Logan then said as he lays himself down on the bed, pressing himself up against your back and holding there with his hands on your hips. ‘What could make you possibly think that’s the reason?’ You replied sarcastically, causing Logan to pinch your side, all the while you found yourself subconsciously snuggling into him and his warmth. ‘Dick’ you muttered your breath.

‘You call me that now but I wasn’t one being a snarky brat just now.’ Logan murmured lowly in your ear, playfully biting it.

‘It’s not my fault that our sexy lumberjack over here is the possessive type.’ Wade said as he too joins in on the cuddle session you were having by cuddling up to your front, burying his head into your chest and kissing your collar bones while Logan peppered your shoulders and neck with kisses. ‘I guess you’re right.’ You groan as Logan bit a weak spot of yours just below your ear as your hand reached behind you to run through his hair, while the other toyed with the collar of Wade’s shirt. ‘But it’s a trait that works well enough for him to not be mad at him for.’ You add as you moved your neck to grant Logan more access, all reason as to why you were upset slowly slipping away the more you allowed yourself to enjoy this moment.

‘Are we forgiven then cutie?’ Wade said as he pulled his head from kissing your collar bones and leaving small marks here and there, not that you gave a shit.

You hum as your hand that was playing with the collar of his shirt then cups the back of his head and bring him into a kiss on the lips. ‘You are forgiven-‘

‘Yes!’ He cheered.

‘-on the condition that you two stop fighting over who gets to spend time with me.’ You then add as Logan and Wade look at one another before shrugging in unison as they looked back at you.

‘Deal.’ They both said and you smiled at your boys with the smile they’ve both been waiting to see the entire day. ‘Good,’ you said as your bit back a yawn, having been pressed snug between the two men for a while and their warmth, you were bound to be sent almost into a state of pleasurable slumber. ‘Now come back down here and cuddle me and give me kisses.’ You pouted while making grabby hands at both men, who both had matching smirks across their stupidly handsome faces.

‘Don’t need to tell me twice.’ Logan said

‘I live to serve you on hand a foot peanut.’ Wade followed afterwords as they squished you snug between them once again while you enjoyed the copious amounts of attention your neck, shoulders and collar bones were getting in both kisses and affectionate bite marks, finally living in the paradise you imagined with your beloved pair of silly men with insane regenerative abilities.

[feeder86]

Saint Scott

It was around Thanksgiving when Ben first had his suspicions that Scott wasn’t quite the angelic figure that he appeared to be. A face of porcelaine and a fine, toned body of a guy who had clearly never struggled to turn heads, Scott had been a favourite amongst every single group within the dorms. He was kind, thoughtful, dependable and caring. He never swore, nor had a bad word to say about anyone. It was no wonder that he had gotten away with it so well.

Scott’s girlfriend, Marie had clearly suffered, surprisingly rapidly, with the Freshman Fifteen. Even Ben, who had no interest in girls whatsoever, had noticed just how swollen and large the girl’s butt had become, almost overnight. Everyone had assumed it to be accidental and a consequence of college life. However, it was Scott’s hands that gave him away. Ben had stood behind them at a party and seen the way the saintly boy’s finger drifted and caressed those blubbery glutes. He’d spoonfed her ice cream and indulged her in any way he could. Then, when Marie had become conscious of her increasing size and joined the netball squad for exercise, Scott had finished with her within the week.

There was no doubt in Ben’s mind. Saint Scott was a feeder. All the evidence was there, despite the fact that Ben would often try to convince himself that he was wrong. After all, he was more interested in the world of feederism than most. It was the reason he had travelled so far away to go to college. For as much as Scott seemed to be harbouring a secret, so was Ben himself…

Ever since Ben could remember, he had wanted to grow his own fat belly. He didn’t know where the urge had come from or why it appealed to him more than anything else. It was the pinnacle of eroticism for him and something he knew he could not live his life without. Waiting until after high school had been a no brainer. There was no chance of him packing on any excess weight back at home. Ever since he was little, he had been ferried about from one extra-curricular sports club to another: basketball, swimming, karate, to name but a few. He had even taken on a couple more in the last year, knowing that his suddenly more sedentary lifestyle in college would be the perfect excuse for why people would start to see his transformation away from the fit jock he had always been.

Ben had started the moment he arrived in college. His first trip to the supermarket had been the cathartic moment he had dreamed about for months. Downing a carton of whipped cream upon his return to the dorm had made his dick harder than he had ever felt it and he came, gazing upon his fit physique bloating in the mirror. Since then, it hadn’t been as easy as he had hoped. The pounds had trickled on slowly and his quest to develop the appetite of an obese guy hadn’t been as automatic as he had hoped. Although his abs had been stubbornly difficult to erase, he did appear thicker in the middle and in his face. His pants had been growing tighter and so he knew that his butt and thighs had been swelling up. 

However, with a shirt on, Ben felt like he had made no progress whatsoever. The guys who had heard of his sporting achievements were still nagging him to sign up at the Athletics Union and, despite the vast quantities of beer he had consumed on nights out, his stomach had still yet to pop out in the way he longed for.

“I hear Vimran is close to getting you to join the swim team?” Scott had teased Ben.

“Not a chance!” Ben had laughed back, throwing a beer down his throat.

“Why not?” Scott had asked in his usual, polite manner. “You don’t fancy being seen in just your swim trunks at the moment?”

Ben’s jaw had dropped. Had the tediously polite and wholesome Scott really just subtly fat-shamed him? His first ever comment about his additional pounds and there it was, rolling out of Scott’s mouth so carelessly. Ben felt a spark of energy captured in his lungs. This was every bit as exciting as he had imagined.

“What I mean is…” Scott fumbled, seeming to recognise his faux pas; his mind working a mile a minute. “...It’s winter, you don’t want to be getting into a cold swimming pool and freezing yourself to death.”

Ben smirked, It was a decent enough recovery, but he had decided to have none of it. “It’s all right,” he chuckled, patting his beer bloated middle. “I guess I would be a little more conscious in a speedo right now,” he smirked, lifting his shirt up to reveal his less defined stomach. “The Freshman Fifteen are definitely catching up to me,” he laughed, taking another sip of his beer and diving his hand into his bag of potato chips. He’d masturbated thinking about it later: his first time being called out for getting chubbier. However, one thing stood out more than anything. Once again, Scott was in the middle of it all.

Pants start to fit very differently once your butt gets some additional heft to it. Ben found he loved the way his sweatpants clung to the new shape, emphasising the fact that his slender, tight, glutes were undergoing a transformation. Once his six pack had been taken over, he could feel the beginnings of softness starting to form at his sides. He could take his fingers to them, poke and pinch, never failing to get himself aroused. This was happening. He was actually doing this, no matter how slow the progress was!

After the winter holidays, Scott had started dating again. Unsurprisingly to Ben, he had chosen a girl from his course: short, large-chested and with a butt at least as chubby as Marie’s had been before she cut down. People had raised their eyebrows in surprise, silently evaluating everyone and deciding that this new girl, Sam, was nearly not hot enough for a guy like Scott. Once again, Ben saw Scott’s drawer in the freezer start to fill with ice cream and sickly treats beginning to clog up the shelves of the refrigerator. The feeder was back to his old tricks, enveloping a naive Sam with his love, affection and pampering. 

Ben often wondered just how Scott did it so effectively. Every pound Ben had gained had been hard fought for as he battled against his fast metabolism, yet Sam’s face seemed to be filling out in a matter of weeks. People began to complain about Scott’s absence, with the guys only ever seeing him at sports practice or when he was on his way to a class. Then there was Sam, who had never had many fans around the dorm, starting to take on even more criticism behind her back, just as her waistline began to thicken.

Ben had to admit that he was disappointed in himself. Although he was proud of the slight paunch he had obtained, he had to conceed that he had expected it to be larger by now. He wanted a real belly on him, not just a bloating that made it look like he was bulking for a muscle gain. He was still going on dates, still being lusted after by the other gay guys on campus. Life had yet to alter in the way he secretly longed for.

It was hard not to feel jealous when Ben saw Scott with his arm draped over Sam: her little swollen tummy pushing out as if she didn't realise a half shirt was not a great look for a girl as obviously overweight as she was now. The pounds had seemed to pour onto her body with breathtaking speed. Scott always seemed to be complimenting her or suggesting places for them to eat, his hands hardly off her all the while. It was then that the fantasy started for Ben. Sure, he’d had a crush on Scott before, but seeing him being so openly horny for his dumpy girlfriend was stimulating his imagination no end. Just what did the guy do to get his girls to grow like this? Just how kinky was all this for him? If it hadn’t been for the fact that Sam had failed her first year in college and was shipped back home by her domineering family, Ben could imagine that she would have continued getting fatter and fatter as the months went on. As it was, she appeared to have had a very lucky escape.

Ben had decided early on that he wasn’t going home for the summer. He’d pushed all year for a less than thirty pound gain. Heading home wouldn’t only stunt his progress but was more than likely to reverse it. He’d been successful in his application to stay in the dorms and had picked up a job at a burger joint to help bring in the extra cash. Whether it was just the cheap material they used, Ben didn’t know, but he’d never felt more portly than when he slipped on his work uniform and strolled out with a confident swagger. It got hot working the cash register by the kitchen, with not a single pound of his new fat being hidden as his shift ended. He noticed people starting to look at him differently and speak to him with a bluntness that he was less used to. It spurred him to eat and consume, determined to make the summer months his most productive yet, even with the torturous humidity that lingered for weeks.

Scott arrived back in town a couple of weeks before the start of the new semester as he moved into a frat house with some of the other athletes. He’d popped in and fist-pumped Ben during the quieter mid afternoon, failing to stop his eyes from noticing the additional fifteen pounds Ben had added since he’d last seen him; now encircling his waist, filling up his thighs and at last forming a slight double chin under his jaw.

“This seems like a pretty sweet deal!” he smiled, looking around at the relatively quiet surroundings after learning of the generous rate they were paying per hour. 

“We also get free food each shift and sodas whenever we please,” Ben grinned, sipping from a large bucket-like drinks holder. 

Again, Scott’s eyes slipped down to Ben’s middle. “You know, you and I should hang out more,” the jock declared, pulling out his phone to get Ben’s number now that they would no longer be living just down the hall from each other. “Being single, I have a lot more time on my hands,” he smiled, slyly checking out the monstrously overweight lady who usually appeared at least a couple of times a week.

A couple of nights later, Scott had made good on his word, inviting Ben out for a few beers; just the two of them. With a good trust fund behind him, Scott was never shy of putting his hand in his pocket to buy in the drinks, although he didn’t appear to be drinking quite as much as Ben had been enabled to. They’d gone back to the dorms carrying pizzas, with Scott wanting to see for himself just how creepy the place felt being so devoid of other students.

“Bro, are you back in the gym?” Scott asked, spotting a couple of large container of protein powder hidden underneath his bed.

Inebriated as he was, Ben merely laughed and shook his head. “No way, man. I’m done with all that shit!”

Scott looked from the protein powder and back to Ben. “I don’t understand then,” he chuckled innocently.

Ben shook his head. “Trust me, buddy, you don’t want to know!” he joked.

“Except, now I really do want to know,” Scott smiled playfully back.

“Let’s just say, the protein powder helps me get in plenty of calories,” Ben offered.

“So you are trying to bulk up,” Scott nodded, deciding that his earlier assumption was correct.

“Not bulking… no,” Ben shot back, realising that he didn’t want to speak in riddles anymore. Scott was his friend, so what if he knew? “Fattening is what I’m doing. I’m growing my belly out. Hence why I just devoured three quarters of all that pizza you just bought as well.” With that, he patted his stout, swollen stomach proudly.

Scott didn’t say a word. His mouth agape, his eyes fell onto Ben’s thicker stomach as if he could hardly comprehend what he was hearing.

“Don’t act like you’re so naive about all this!” Ben chuckled back, entirely relaxed and loose from the many beers he had consumed. “I’ve watched you with Marie and Sam, quietly overfeeding and fattening them up.”

“I did what now?” Scott laughed back; highly amused and not in the least bit offended.

“Oh come on!” Ben sighed. “Stop acting like such a good boy. I saw you! You could hardly keep your hands off Marie when her butt blew up, and the same was true of Sam once her belly started coming in. You’re into fat girls!”

Scott simply continued smiling at him. He sighed, shaking his head and ran his hand through his beautiful hair. “So that’s your theory, huh? That behind the nice guy exterior I’m actually some kinky little feeder-type?”

“I know you are!” Ben smiled, nodding emphatically.

“So what does that make you then?” Scott played along. “Some little fat boy wannabe?”

Ben laughed even more. “Definitely!” he nodded, lifting his shirt and slapping the stomach he had been trying to develop for almost twelve months now. “Having a big fat gut is all I have ever wanted.” Despite the tautness of his skin from the overindulgence, he still revelled in grabbing a little of it and jiggling. 

Scott watched on, continuing to chuckle and admit to nothing. The beers flowed and Ben realised he must have nodded off, waking up and seeing that Scott was now gone. Had he gone too far? Opened up too much? Made an idiot of himself? Possibly. But those questions could wait for the morning when his head was less muddled and confused. For now, all his body needed to do was rest and turn the vast amount of calories in his stomach into pure, irreversible blubber.

Ben saw Scott the next day, squinting his eyes as the hangover hit him hard at work.

“How’s the head today?” Scott asked, taking a pause in his morning run to pop in and see his friend.

Ben groaned, rubbing his eyes. The last hour had been pure torture.

At that, Scott laughed, stretching his quads as he stood at the counter so that he didn’t seize up. “Any nice fat girls in for me today?” he teased, making light of the accusations Ben had thrown at him last night.

Ben groaned once again. He thoroughly believed with all his heart that Scott was a feeder, but had he really been that blunt last night? “Take your pick,” he mumbled back, fighting the polite urge in him to take it all back and apologise.

Scott chuckled at that, taking a little look round nonetheless. “I’m busy the next couple of nights, but do you want to head out for beers on Thursday?” he asked.

Ben raised his palm to his head and sighed. “Ask me again when my head stops pounding,” he groaned.

“You’ll survive,” Scott smiled. “I’ll message you later,” he bounced enthusiastically, taking off to continue his run.

It surprised Ben that they had gone almost two hours into their drinks that Thursday without the awkward conversation about Ben’s revelation rearing its ugly head. Scott hadn’t told anyone else. Of that, Ben could be sure. Scott was so charming and laid back, even the most antisocial of people could lose hours simply chatting to him about almost nothing at all. However, something had caught Scott’s attention as they were speaking and Ben turned around to see that Scott’s ex, Marie, had walked in with some of her friends. The place had been slowly filling up with more returnees all week as Freshers’ Week got closer.

“You want to leave?” Ben asked thoughtfully.

Scott considered the question as if weighing up pros and cons. “Sure. Why not?” he finally declared, throwing back the one beer he had been nursing the entire time.”I think it’s time we got some food anyway.” 

“If it’s any consolation,” Ben smiled, checking Marie out at the bar as she had her back to them both, “I think she looked a lot better when you were going out with her.”

Scott’s eyes fell onto the girl’s butt, now deflated and more toned. He smiled and laughed as if their minds were in sync. “I think I agree with you!”

It was no surprise to Ben that the pair of them ended up heading back to the dorms, pizzas, chicken wings and sodas in hand. Beer never failed to give Ben a good appetite and he set about eating at a good pace, even with the company there. Late night eating such as this never failed to give him a boost on the scales the next morning.

“Wow! It’s almost all gone,” Scott noted, rolling the only remaining protein powder container out from under the bed.

“I know,” Ben nodded, still trying to keep a good pace before he got too full. “I need to get some more this week.”

“Well, I can’t fault your commitment,” Scott smiled, taking his third slice of pizza and nibbling incredibly slowly.

A strange silence hit. “You’ll have to give me some tips,” Ben joked, after slurping down his soda.

“Let me guess… Because I’m the expert when it comes to making someone fatter, right?” Scott joked back mockingly.

“Damn right you are!” Ben retorted. He’d made his position clear. He wasn’t going to retract his comments about Scott being a feeder, no matter how evasive and belittling the jock was towards the accusations.

“You know, no one else has ever told me they thought my behaviour amounted to being a ‘feeder’ before,” Scott shot back, still with that playful smile on his face.

“That’s because everyone else is an idiot!” Ben replied sharply. “They believe your pretty boy smile and all the bullshit charm that spews out of your mouth. But I see you for the kinky little fucker that you really are…”

Scott’s eyes danced with mischief, enjoying their playful back and forth. “Is that so, huh?” he laughed. “It’s a good job you’re here to call me out on it then,” he joked. “Having a feeder on campus sounds pretty concerning!”

“Don’t you worry,” Ben smiled back, doubling up the pizza slices. “I’m not going anywhere!”

Ben couldn’t put his finger on what exactly had happened, but it was as if his body had finally clicked as to what it was supposed to be doing with all the calories he was pushing into it. In a matter of weeks his nipples had begun to point and jiggle when he walked. His cheeks had swollen and his toned arms had finally softened with a coating of fat. His thighs and butt had puffed up even more and, most excitingly of all, his new belly had folded over his belt as he sat down, almost resting on his crotch. It wasthrilling, feeling his body transforming, with new fleshy areas to discover on a weekly basis. Even as the colder weather hit, Ben proudly strutted about in his t-shirts that had become incredibly poor fitting, enjoying the coolness underneath his new belly where the chilly air had immediate access.

“Where’s that cute girl who works in the kitchens sometimes?”  Scott asked, popping into the burger joint as he often did during the quieter hours of Ben’s shifts. Having friends hanging about was usually frowned upon, but there were plenty of admiring women here to ensure that no one ever made a big deal about the pretty, charming boy who visited so often. He’d even been offered a job there more than once.

“Jodie?” Ben asked, having thought a few times that Scott had developed a bit of a crush on his oversized colleague. “She quit last week. She got another job working with her girlfriend.”

Scott sighed in disappointment. He’d been more open in recent weeks about checking out larger women, however it had surprised Ben that the guy had remained single for so long. It had become a frequent joke in his frat house that, apart from the odd one night stand, Scott was getting the least sex of all the boys. 

“You know, you’re never going to get a chubby girlfriend unless you actually put yourself out there,” Ben had advised him. “There are loads of bigger girls on the campus.”

“Yeah, but it’s not just about that for me though, is it?” Scott had replied, clipping the boundaries of how far he was willing to openly admit his interest in feedism.

“Well, if you want a fat girl with a good appetite, you just need to hang around here a little more. I see hundreds of them every day!”

Scott sighed once more. “Want to get some beers later?”

“I can’t tonight. I’ve got an assignment due,” Ben replied. “How about Thursday, as usual?”

“Sure,” Scott nodded, shuffling away with the melancholy demeanour that had seemed to overtake him recently.

Thankfully, Scott’s mood had lifted by the time they met for drinks that week. Ben had learned that although his shirt looked large enough as he stood and gazed at his reflection in his mirror, it didn’t necessarily follow that it would fit so well when he sat down in the bar; his stomach bloating with beer, stretching the buttons angrily. Even for his most exhibitionist tendencies, this felt like a step too far; straying into the positively indecent. He’d now fattened into the 250lbs range for the first time, and every inch of it was showing.

Scott had been animated and chatty, never leaving the table for more than a couple of minutes, despite how many of his other friends came in and wanted his attention.

“Do you mind if we head back?” Ben had finally asked, genuinely concerned that his shirt may blow if he had another beer.

“Sure,” Scott agreed enthusiastically. “Want to come to mine for a bit?”

Ben frowned. He’d never been invited into the frat house before. Somehow, in his current state, he couldn’t think of anywhere he belonged less than in a house filled with athletic heterosexual boys. The pair of them picked up Chinese and entered the house, largely ignored by some of the others who were rowdily watching a movie on the couches. 

As they made their way into Scott’s bedroom, Ben rolled his eyes at how neat and tidy the whole place was; his well dusted sports trophies decorating the shelving above his clear and organised desk. He sat himself down on the boy’s bed, lying back against the headboard, pleased to ruffle the neat and crease-free sheets, kicking his shoes off as Scott rolled his desk chair out to sit alongside him. 

“Things are really speeding up for you now, huh?” Scott asked a few minutes later as, even lying down, Ben’s buttons still threatened to explode as he pushed the noodles into himself.

Ben rubbed his belly proudly. “Still not quite fast enough for my liking,” he replied honestly. “I’m tall enough. There’s no reason why I couldn’t be more than 400lbs if I can push my appetite enough.”

“I wouldn’t worry about that. I’ve seen the way you eat. Four hundred would be easy.”

Ben smiled, always appreciating how supportive Scott was of him, despite being such a fitness freak himself. “I got a little winded walking up some stairs the other day. That was pretty exciting.”

“Really? That does it for you?” Scott asked interestedly. “Becoming less fit?”

“Of course!” Ben nodded back. “Becoming fat, sluggish, lazy and slow. It’s a big reason why I started all this in the first place.”

Scott chuckled and nodded his head. “I can’t argue with that. I’ve never met anyone like you before; someone who actually wants to get fat. My exes, Marie and Sam, they just complained bitterly when they started getting heavier.”

“Well, that’s because they didn’t realise they were dating a feeder,” Ben shot back, knowing that one day Scott would have to admit that it was true. He paused for a moment, sensing that Scott felt more comfortable in his own surroundings. “How did you do that by the way? How did you get them so chubby so fast?”

Scott raised his eyebrows then smirked ever so slightly. “Appetite stimulants,” he stated frankly. “I told them they were vitamins and made sure they took them daily.”

Ben nearly dropped his chopsticks. For months he had been trying to tease out a confession from Scott and, all of a sudden, there it was, as if it was the most casual thing in the world.

“They worked better on Sam than they did Marie. Then again, she was already a little fatter anyway. Then it was just a case of feeding that appetite through any means I could.”

Ben laughed aloud. “I can see why you’ve kept that to yourself for so long,” he smirked. “That’s some proper kinky shit! Secret appetite stimulants?”

Scott nodded, seeming to understand how far off the path he had strayed by using the pills. Then the smile returned. “They worked though. You saw Sam’s tummy. She absolutely ballooned! She used to eat like such a fat pig some nights!”

Smiling and nodding, Ben could hardly argue. He was uniquely aware that Scott had just shared a part of himself that no one else on the entire planet had seen before. “I knew you weren’t such a fucking goodie-two-shoes!”

“Far from it!” Scott smiled. He seemed buzzed to have finally spoken about it all out loud and he shifted restlessly in his chair as if he wanted to say much more and continue the excited feeling inside of himself. “It’s all just so fucking hot though!” he rambled.

Ben smirked. He’d never heard Scott swear before. The guy must have been seriously horny just talking about this stuff.

“I got so turned on watching them eat, knowing exactly what I was doing. I couldn’t believe how easy it was. You’re still the only one who ever noticed! Can you believe that?”

“Like I said, people are idiots. They don’t want to believe that the pretty little star athlete is actually a devious, cunning and manipulative devil!” Ben nodded. “So, out of interest, where exactly are these appetite stimulants?”

Scott rolled his chair and gladly opened his drawer where, tucked inside an innocuous pair of sport socks, sat a little bottle that had been concealed there for months.

“Ready and waiting for your next little piggy, huh?” Ben joked.

“You know it!” Scott smiled wickedly. “I want you to try one for me,” he declared.

“Sure,” Ben shrugged. “But I’m almost out of food anyway. I don’t think I need it.”

“I’ve got more downstairs,” the jock replied, tipping the container up regardless and pinching one into his fingers. “This stuff is super expensive. I’d like you to experience first hand what they can do.”

Ben couldn’t deny that he was turned on by the idea. He went to take it from Scott’s hand until the boy shook his head and insisted on dropping it onto Ben’s tongue himself. Swallow.

“Now just wait half an hour, then you’re going to have the most ravenous appetite of your life!” He spoke slowly, as if all this was the height of eroticism and the pinnacle of his sexual fantasies.

“I’d best take my shirt off then,” Ben joked, until he felt the hands of Scott assisting him; his fleshy stomach and nipples entirely on show in front of Scott for the first time.

“I’m just going to get it all ready,” Scott announced, jumping out of his chair. “I won’t be long,” he exclaimed, throwing the TV remote into Ben’s hands and racing off with a sprightliness that was alien to Ben these days.

As Ben sat there watching some boring sitcom, he tried to calm his body down. He had to remember that Scott was straight and that, although he was indulging in their kinks right now, the last thing he would want to see would be the epic hard-on that Ben could feel rising up in his crotch.

Scott arrived back about twenty minutes later, carrying a discrete cardboard box that, when emptied, contained several different items of highly fattening treats. Ben realised then that this had all been planned from the start. Had he microcraved the ice cream to make it so gooey? One of the tubs was practically liquid!

“Are you feeling it yet?” Scott asked, sitting down and switching the TV off in favour of music. Generic, sweet love songs played out, no longer fitting alongside the exciting, wicked kinkiness Scott had concealed for so long.

“What am I supposed to be feeling?” Ben asked, placing a cushion over his crotch as he realised he was fooling himself if he thought he could stop his dick from getting hard.

“Hungry!” Scott replied excitedly back, picking up the cushion and throwing it away over his shoulder.

“Please!” Ben panicked. “I need that! I can’t promise not to get turned on if I’m going to be eating this much.”

“Good!” Scott grinned. “I’m already there.” He pointed into his crotch, where a massive, thick and pumped erection had slid itself down the side of the left leg of his pants. He slipped his large hand onto Ben’s fattened middle and rubbed, making both of them moan. He leaned in closer, assessing just how much Ben would submit to him tonight. Then he grinned, leaning in to kiss Ben in a way that was at odds with the violent jiggling his hand was forcing upon Ben’s stomach fat. ”Give it another five minutes to let the stimulant do its work,” he whispered, leaning in for more kisses and undressing both of them before the time was finally up.

Having Scott’s hand on his dick felt like no sexual thrill Ben had ever experienced in his life. Through his masterful stroking, the handsome jock had fully asserted his dominant nature, leaving no part of his true self now hidden.

“Are you going to be a good piggy for me?” Scott asked, his face deadly serious as he anticipated the exciting spectacle that was to come.

Ben wasn’t sure where he stood on being called a pig, but out of Scott’s mouth, it felt like the perfect, sexy fit. “Yes,” he nodded; his hand clasping Scott’s hardness in turn.

“Because that thing you said about being 400lbs…” Scott continued. “That’s not going to be enough for a fat boy like you, is it?”

Ben sighed with relief. It was like something from his dreams. Scott was right: four hundred was never going to be enough for him. However, saying it out loud was something he had never dared before. But how did Scott know that so instinctively?

Even without the appetite stimulant, Ben felt he would have made great inroads into the disgusting amount of supplies Scott had carried up to feed him with. However, wth the stimulant working its magic, Ben was surprised by just how much he was getting down. It wasn’t hunger he felt exactly, but all the usual tightness that came from overeating just wasn’t happening tonight. His stomach seemed to have an endless capacity, both of them ejaculating over the tremendous, distorted ball his gut had become by the end of it all.

Ben didn’t go back to the dorm that night. Scott’s sweet nature had returned as they lay in bed together, entirely naked. In the morning, Ben enjoyed breakfast in bed and was introduced properly to the guys in the house, all of whom looked on in confusion at the small ways Scott appeared so unashamedly affectionate towards him. He wanted to hold hands as they made their way back to the dorm and it suddenly dawned on Ben that he was now taken. Scott had claimed him as his own. He was the fat pig the kinky boy had desired for so long; their destinies now very much entwined.

“You know, honey, I really think we should give that diet another go,” Scott cooed three years later as they both went over to stay with Ben’s folks for a weekend during the Fall. Despite being no strangers to seeing their son slowly fatten up, they had been shocked by just how extreme it all was now Ben was over 460lbs. His stomach was so enormous, the fat on his thighs and hips sometimes throwing him off-balance and the enormous sacks of fat under his armpits pushing his elbows out wider. Even after all these years, Scott was still getting away with it; no one believed, even for a second, that Ben’s incredible obesity and appetite were being caused by him. Everyone loved Scott, including Ben’s own stern father, who had sold his beloved classic car to Scott for a pittance the moment the charming boy had shown an interest. It was simply the way Scott sailed through life, people bending over backwards to help and please him; sensing a goodness in him that, although very real, didn’t eclipse the wicked deviousness within.

By the end of the evening, Ben had solemnly sworn to his concerned parents that he would try to lose a few pounds. He and Scott had come upstairs to the small bedroom Ben had inhabited most of his adolescence, dropping the mattress onto the floor given that he had broken the bed the last time they had visited. Ben’s father had refused to fix it out of protest.

Ben knew what was coming next as they both undressed. He had seen the subtle boner in Scott’s crotch the entire time his parents had been nagging him about his weight; spurred on entirely by Scott himself.

“You actually brought the funnel?” Ben exclaimed, sitting up obediently as it was automatically strapped around his fat head.

“Of course I did, Piggy!” Scott cooed; his personality changed behind the closed door of the bedroom. He shook up some of the instant calorie shakes they sometimes bought when they were away and unable to make their own. “You agreed to twelve thousand calories a day for the next week, remember.”

With a hose in his mouth, Ben could do little more than grunt in acknowledgement. Still, his hardness was pressing its way through the fat that was engulfing his groin. Five hundred had never felt so close!

“I promised your mother I was going to help you with this diet, and that’s exactly what I’m going to do!” Scott chuckled, pouring one fattening carton after another into the funnel. He’d always throw in a couple more if Ben got him horny enough; which was why, alongside his swallowing, Ben sat there trying to rub his sweaty palm over Scott’s concrete boner and make him climax. This whole scenario was something that turned him on more than anything: the quiet, blameless ways Scott fed and encouraged him behind people’s backs. The face of an angel. A man who could never even dream of such a thing as this!

“Drink up, Piggy!” demand the feeder, staring down at him with a devilish glint in his eyes. “Every last fucking drop!”

[mostlysignssomeportents]

“Humans in the loop” must detect the hardest-to-spot errors, at superhuman speed

I'm touring my new, nationally bestselling novel The Bezzle! Catch me SATURDAY (Apr 27) in MARIN COUNTY, then Winnipeg (May 2), Calgary (May 3), Vancouver (May 4), and beyond!

If AI has a future (a big if), it will have to be economically viable. An industry can't spend 1,700% more on Nvidia chips than it earns indefinitely – not even with Nvidia being a principle investor in its largest customers:

https://news.ycombinator.com/item?id=39883571

A company that pays 0.36-1 cents/query for electricity and (scarce, fresh) water can't indefinitely give those queries away by the millions to people who are expected to revise those queries dozens of times before eliciting the perfect botshit rendition of "instructions for removing a grilled cheese sandwich from a VCR in the style of the King James Bible":

https://www.semianalysis.com/p/the-inference-cost-of-search-disruption

Eventually, the industry will have to uncover some mix of applications that will cover its operating costs, if only to keep the lights on in the face of investor disillusionment (this isn't optional – investor disillusionment is an inevitable part of every bubble).

Now, there are lots of low-stakes applications for AI that can run just fine on the current AI technology, despite its many – and seemingly inescapable - errors ("hallucinations"). People who use AI to generate illustrations of their D&D characters engaged in epic adventures from their previous gaming session don't care about the odd extra finger. If the chatbot powering a tourist's automatic text-to-translation-to-speech phone tool gets a few words wrong, it's still much better than the alternative of speaking slowly and loudly in your own language while making emphatic hand-gestures.

There are lots of these applications, and many of the people who benefit from them would doubtless pay something for them. The problem – from an AI company's perspective – is that these aren't just low-stakes, they're also low-value. Their users would pay something for them, but not very much.

For AI to keep its servers on through the coming trough of disillusionment, it will have to locate high-value applications, too. Economically speaking, the function of low-value applications is to soak up excess capacity and produce value at the margins after the high-value applications pay the bills. Low-value applications are a side-dish, like the coach seats on an airplane whose total operating expenses are paid by the business class passengers up front. Without the principle income from high-value applications, the servers shut down, and the low-value applications disappear:

https://locusmag.com/2023/12/commentary-cory-doctorow-what-kind-of-bubble-is-ai/

Now, there are lots of high-value applications the AI industry has identified for its products. Broadly speaking, these high-value applications share the same problem: they are all high-stakes, which means they are very sensitive to errors. Mistakes made by apps that produce code, drive cars, or identify cancerous masses on chest X-rays are extremely consequential.

Some businesses may be insensitive to those consequences. Air Canada replaced its human customer service staff with chatbots that just lied to passengers, stealing hundreds of dollars from them in the process. But the process for getting your money back after you are defrauded by Air Canada's chatbot is so onerous that only one passenger has bothered to go through it, spending ten weeks exhausting all of Air Canada's internal review mechanisms before fighting his case for weeks more at the regulator:

https://bc.ctvnews.ca/air-canada-s-chatbot-gave-a-b-c-man-the-wrong-information-now-the-airline-has-to-pay-for-the-mistake-1.6769454

There's never just one ant. If this guy was defrauded by an AC chatbot, so were hundreds or thousands of other fliers. Air Canada doesn't have to pay them back. Air Canada is tacitly asserting that, as the country's flagship carrier and near-monopolist, it is too big to fail and too big to jail, which means it's too big to care.

Air Canada shows that for some business customers, AI doesn't need to be able to do a worker's job in order to be a smart purchase: a chatbot can replace a worker, fail to their worker's job, and still save the company money on balance.

I can't predict whether the world's sociopathic monopolists are numerous and powerful enough to keep the lights on for AI companies through leases for automation systems that let them commit consequence-free free fraud by replacing workers with chatbots that serve as moral crumple-zones for furious customers:

https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/abs/pii/S0747563219304029

But even stipulating that this is sufficient, it's intrinsically unstable. Anything that can't go on forever eventually stops, and the mass replacement of humans with high-speed fraud software seems likely to stoke the already blazing furnace of modern antitrust:

https://www.eff.org/de/deeplinks/2021/08/party-its-1979-og-antitrust-back-baby

Of course, the AI companies have their own answer to this conundrum. A high-stakes/high-value customer can still fire workers and replace them with AI – they just need to hire fewer, cheaper workers to supervise the AI and monitor it for "hallucinations." This is called the "human in the loop" solution.

The human in the loop story has some glaring holes. From a worker's perspective, serving as the human in the loop in a scheme that cuts wage bills through AI is a nightmare – the worst possible kind of automation.

Let's pause for a little detour through automation theory here. Automation can augment a worker. We can call this a "centaur" – the worker offloads a repetitive task, or one that requires a high degree of vigilance, or (worst of all) both. They're a human head on a robot body (hence "centaur"). Think of the sensor/vision system in your car that beeps if you activate your turn-signal while a car is in your blind spot. You're in charge, but you're getting a second opinion from the robot.

Likewise, consider an AI tool that double-checks a radiologist's diagnosis of your chest X-ray and suggests a second look when its assessment doesn't match the radiologist's. Again, the human is in charge, but the robot is serving as a backstop and helpmeet, using its inexhaustible robotic vigilance to augment human skill.

That's centaurs. They're the good automation. Then there's the bad automation: the reverse-centaur, when the human is used to augment the robot.

Amazon warehouse pickers stand in one place while robotic shelving units trundle up to them at speed; then, the haptic bracelets shackled around their wrists buzz at them, directing them pick up specific items and move them to a basket, while a third automation system penalizes them for taking toilet breaks or even just walking around and shaking out their limbs to avoid a repetitive strain injury. This is a robotic head using a human body – and destroying it in the process.

An AI-assisted radiologist processes fewer chest X-rays every day, costing their employer more, on top of the cost of the AI. That's not what AI companies are selling. They're offering hospitals the power to create reverse centaurs: radiologist-assisted AIs. That's what "human in the loop" means.

This is a problem for workers, but it's also a problem for their bosses (assuming those bosses actually care about correcting AI hallucinations, rather than providing a figleaf that lets them commit fraud or kill people and shift the blame to an unpunishable AI).

Humans are good at a lot of things, but they're not good at eternal, perfect vigilance. Writing code is hard, but performing code-review (where you check someone else's code for errors) is much harder – and it gets even harder if the code you're reviewing is usually fine, because this requires that you maintain your vigilance for something that only occurs at rare and unpredictable intervals:

https://twitter.com/qntm/status/1773779967521780169

But for a coding shop to make the cost of an AI pencil out, the human in the loop needs to be able to process a lot of AI-generated code. Replacing a human with an AI doesn't produce any savings if you need to hire two more humans to take turns doing close reads of the AI's code.

This is the fatal flaw in robo-taxi schemes. The "human in the loop" who is supposed to keep the murderbot from smashing into other cars, steering into oncoming traffic, or running down pedestrians isn't a driver, they're a driving instructor. This is a much harder job than being a driver, even when the student driver you're monitoring is a human, making human mistakes at human speed. It's even harder when the student driver is a robot, making errors at computer speed:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/04/01/human-in-the-loop/#monkey-in-the-middle

This is why the doomed robo-taxi company Cruise had to deploy 1.5 skilled, high-paid human monitors to oversee each of its murderbots, while traditional taxis operate at a fraction of the cost with a single, precaratized, low-paid human driver:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/11/robots-stole-my-jerb/#computer-says-no

The vigilance problem is pretty fatal for the human-in-the-loop gambit, but there's another problem that is, if anything, even more fatal: the kinds of errors that AIs make.

Foundationally, AI is applied statistics. An AI company trains its AI by feeding it a lot of data about the real world. The program processes this data, looking for statistical correlations in that data, and makes a model of the world based on those correlations. A chatbot is a next-word-guessing program, and an AI "art" generator is a next-pixel-guessing program. They're drawing on billions of documents to find the most statistically likely way of finishing a sentence or a line of pixels in a bitmap:

https://dl.acm.org/doi/10.1145/3442188.3445922

This means that AI doesn't just make errors – it makes subtle errors, the kinds of errors that are the hardest for a human in the loop to spot, because they are the most statistically probable ways of being wrong. Sure, we notice the gross errors in AI output, like confidently claiming that a living human is dead:

https://www.tomsguide.com/opinion/according-to-chatgpt-im-dead

But the most common errors that AIs make are the ones we don't notice, because they're perfectly camouflaged as the truth. Think of the recurring AI programming error that inserts a call to a nonexistent library called "huggingface-cli," which is what the library would be called if developers reliably followed naming conventions. But due to a human inconsistency, the real library has a slightly different name. The fact that AIs repeatedly inserted references to the nonexistent library opened up a vulnerability – a security researcher created a (inert) malicious library with that name and tricked numerous companies into compiling it into their code because their human reviewers missed the chatbot's (statistically indistinguishable from the the truth) lie:

https://www.theregister.com/2024/03/28/ai_bots_hallucinate_software_packages/

For a driving instructor or a code reviewer overseeing a human subject, the majority of errors are comparatively easy to spot, because they're the kinds of errors that lead to inconsistent library naming – places where a human behaved erratically or irregularly. But when reality is irregular or erratic, the AI will make errors by presuming that things are statistically normal.

These are the hardest kinds of errors to spot. They couldn't be harder for a human to detect if they were specifically designed to go undetected. The human in the loop isn't just being asked to spot mistakes – they're being actively deceived. The AI isn't merely wrong, it's constructing a subtle "what's wrong with this picture"-style puzzle. Not just one such puzzle, either: millions of them, at speed, which must be solved by the human in the loop, who must remain perfectly vigilant for things that are, by definition, almost totally unnoticeable.

This is a special new torment for reverse centaurs – and a significant problem for AI companies hoping to accumulate and keep enough high-value, high-stakes customers on their books to weather the coming trough of disillusionment.

This is pretty grim, but it gets grimmer. AI companies have argued that they have a third line of business, a way to make money for their customers beyond automation's gifts to their payrolls: they claim that they can perform difficult scientific tasks at superhuman speed, producing billion-dollar insights (new materials, new drugs, new proteins) at unimaginable speed.

However, these claims – credulously amplified by the non-technical press – keep on shattering when they are tested by experts who understand the esoteric domains in which AI is said to have an unbeatable advantage. For example, Google claimed that its Deepmind AI had discovered "millions of new materials," "equivalent to nearly 800 years’ worth of knowledge," constituting "an order-of-magnitude expansion in stable materials known to humanity":

https://deepmind.google/discover/blog/millions-of-new-materials-discovered-with-deep-learning/

It was a hoax. When independent material scientists reviewed representative samples of these "new materials," they concluded that "no new materials have been discovered" and that not one of these materials was "credible, useful and novel":

https://www.404media.co/google-says-it-discovered-millions-of-new-materials-with-ai-human-researchers/

As Brian Merchant writes, AI claims are eerily similar to "smoke and mirrors" – the dazzling reality-distortion field thrown up by 17th century magic lantern technology, which millions of people ascribed wild capabilities to, thanks to the outlandish claims of the technology's promoters:

https://www.bloodinthemachine.com/p/ai-really-is-smoke-and-mirrors

The fact that we have a four-hundred-year-old name for this phenomenon, and yet we're still falling prey to it is frankly a little depressing. And, unlucky for us, it turns out that AI therapybots can't help us with this – rather, they're apt to literally convince us to kill ourselves:

https://www.vice.com/en/article/pkadgm/man-dies-by-suicide-after-talking-with-ai-chatbot-widow-says

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/04/23/maximal-plausibility/#reverse-centaurs

Image: Cryteria (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:HAL9000.svg

CC BY 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/deed.en

[ghettogirly]

Head Cannon: How will Armando be when you're pregnant ? Btw I live for page 💕

𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎 𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐀𝐒 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍!

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-> synopsis: how would he take care of you when you’re pregnant?

-> format: headcanon.

-> theme: fluff!

-> warning: armando is a little overprotective.

-> authors note: hope you enjoyed it, i think we need a little fluff of him being a family man!! thank you for supporting my blog!! 💕 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝.

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-> you’re going to have everything you can possibly think of.

-> new baby clothes? he’s bought them. new room for the baby? workers are already on it. more food? already on its way.

-> you’re not lifting a FINGER. do not let that man see you do anything otherwise you’re getting a lecture.

-> “¿Estás tratando de darme un ataque al corazón?” “Babe, i just picked my glass up.”

-> yeah, don’t even think about doing any chores. he’s got workers for that or he will do it himself.

-> he definitely has hidden cameras around the house to make sure you’re not doing anything for yourself.

-> it may seem a little excessive but your priority should be resting and taking care of yourself and the baby, he believes you should rest to the maximum and it should be a stress free journey.

-> while it can be annoying with how much he cares, it’s honestly heartwarming.

-> sometimes he’ll come back with some flowers just to appreciate how strong you have been with carrying his child.

-> i totally believe he will give you little foot rubs and massages if you need it!

-> ALWAYS there for the doctor appointments, you can’t tell him otherwise. he always wants to make sure you and his child is okay.

-> packed everything needed for labour at least the week before so you don’t need to stress.

-> with your moods, he will initially be defensive and fight back but will come to the realisation that it’s your hormones. then he will just listen and take it.

-> “Estás pasando por muchas cosas, nena, está bien.”

-> when your water breaks, he does freak out a little on the inside but quickly gets you in the car and on the way to the hospital.

-> he makes sure the doctors cater to your every need, giving death stares if they’re not listening to your request.

-> his hand is automatically there if you need to crush it to death while pushing. gives you words of encouragement while you’re pushing out his child.

-> “Ya casi llegaste a esto.”

-> when his child is placed in his arms, a tear does slip out. He feels as he’s done it right and broke the cycle of his parents.

-> even seeing Mike, his father, hold his child made him feel happy. Kissing your forehead, you both smile at the happiness your new edition has made people.

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[🌸] 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐒𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒:

“¿Estás tratando de darme un ataque al corazón?”: Are you trying to give me a heart attack?

“Estás pasando por muchas cosas, nena, está bien.”: You’re going through a lot baby, it’s okay.

“Ya casi llegaste a esto...”: Nearly there, you got this..

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[🌸] 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @milliumizoomi @shurisgf @sarcasticbitchsblog @tyneshaaa @5tarlan7 @wizewhispers @amplifiedmoan @armandosbabymama @thedarkworldofhananerea @deadpool15 @believeinthefireflies95 @dyttomori