FatGamer @fatgamerboy - Tumblr Blog

love how big you are now! what do you like most about getting fatter?

What I love most about gaining weight is comparing myself to how I looked a year ago and seeing how my love of food has expanded both my belly and my appetite. It's incredible to see how all my clothes fit tighter now and to feel so much heavier.

newkidintownme

This round fatso’s working in a restaurant and he’s clearly tasting everything before it goes out of the kitchen. The people think they’re just getting small portions there, but it’s only that small because he ate at least half of it. He thinks his hidden talent is belly dancing, but that big round gut is certainly not hidden at all and he seems to have an even bigger talent for overeating. Can you even breathe in those straining tight pants and that snug shirt, of which the buttons are holding on for dear life around your growing waist, big boy?

the-new-buffy

newkidintownme

Making shirtless videos when your pudgy paunch’s jiggling all the time like it has it’s having its own local earthquake isn’t gonna attract girls, tubbs. I guess you’ve let the bulk come a bit too far. We all know you’re just wearing those sweatpants, because you’re unable to fit in any of your other pants. It’s time to cut, fatty!

the-new-buffy

Another gym bro who relaxed and started enjoying life. It's a pitty he intenteds to lose all the weight.

newkidintownme

It’s a pity he wants to lose the weight, but he will never succeed obviously. Once a fatty, always a fatty. Even if he’d manage to slim down to his old fit form again, it will only be a matter of time before he will blow up again into an even fatter pig than he already is now. I guess he loved his tight abs that much that he’s protecting them under a very thick and pudgy layer of fat. He says he’s obese ‘grade 1’ now, but I’m sure he’s a few grades higher though. It’s funny to hear a tubster like this guy talk about ‘mentality’ being the key part of losing the weight again, while that mentality clearly wasn’t there when he blew up into the fatso he is now. Don’t trust the advice of a big boy like this, be warned!

fatboyfinder3

Damn his belly looked so good in this video 😍😍😍😍

soft5ku11

I drew this when it was hot as FUCK last week. You know there are nights in Po where that humidity is absolutely killer.

Uncensored version will b shared on my bluesky page!

adiposesaleswoman

for @kinkyrun , thank you!

newkidintownme

Jiggle all those squishy fat rolls, chubbs! This fatso got more rolls than a bakery and he’s looking soft as dough. I’m sure his friends never let him forget how out of shape he’s let himself become.

weirdfungi

New post on P!

newkidintownme

This influencer got roasted online after gaining a ton of weight and having the urge to show off all those extra pounds in far too tight clothes, while still acting like the skinny twink he used to be. He stopped giving a fuck about what other people think and suddenly he blew up into a big fatso. The photoshoot he did was for the Zara Larsson track 'Midnight Sun', where she sings "It's a never ending midnight sun". The people in his comments used that to say it's a never ending midnight snack instead and I think it's hilarious. This is twink death in all it's chubby glory!

You can find a fictional weight gain story I wrote based on him here:

Tumblr. Pure effervescent enrichment. Old internet energy. Home of the Reblogs. All the art you never knew you needed. All the fandoms you c

newkidintownme

"Good to see you again, Colin. Been enjoying summer a little too much, huh?"

"What’s that supposed to mean?"

"Oh, nothing. Just that your sweaters seem to be working a lot harder than they used to."

"Please. I still look better than most guys here."

"You definitely take up more space than most guys here."

"Jealousy doesn't suit you, mate."

"Neither does that sweater, apparently."

"Come on, it's just a little extra weight."

"A little? Last summer girls were staring at your abs. This summer they're staring at the buttons trying to hold back your stomach."

"Trust me, the girls still love me."

"Your confidence, maybe. Your waistline's definitely getting more attention these days."

"You're acting like I've gotten huge."

"I'm acting like you're still talking like the high school heartthrob while your body's been on a completely different journey."

"I could get back into shape whenever I want."

"That's exactly what you've been saying since the first button popped."

"One button."

"Sure, buddy. And that belly's just one burger. It seems like your waistline is trying to equal your big ego, tubbs."

flabboys

newkidintownme

This former hot jock wanted to get a girlfriend so bad he came up with a plan. He infiltraded in a girls friend group and acted like their ‘gay best friend’ to see the girls in all their glory an eventually get a girlfriend, but karma got to him and things turned out a bit different than he expected. The girly lifestyle changed him an besides karma, the pounds got to him too. Now no one of the girls is interested in him anymore, ‘cause he looks like a greedy piggy who eats everyone else’s meal before they get a chance to take a bite themselves. These days he even needs something like a bra to cover his squishy manboobs. At least you got pregnant, fatso!

newkidintownme

Karma's a bitch

He hadn’t always been that guy. Back in the 'before', he was the one everyone expected to succeed. He had the look, lean, athletic, the kind of effortless, slightly messy attractiveness that turned heads without trying. In his own friend group, the loud, confident, popular guys, he fit right in. They were the type who could walk into a party and immediately have girls orbiting around them. Except… not him. That was the part no one really understood.

“Bro, how are you still single?” one of his friends had asked once, genuinely confused. “You’ve got the face, the body, what are you doing wrong?”

He didn’t have a good answer. Because he did try. He flirted, he joked, he approached girls, but something always fell flat. They’d laugh with him, sure. They’d hang out. But when it came to actually choosing someone? It was always one of his friends instead. He was close enough to see it happen, close enough to feel it. And after a while, that frustration turned into something else, something more calculated. That’s when the “plan” was born. It started as a joke.

“If I were the gay best friend, I’d have it so easy”, he’d said one night, half-laughing. “Girls tell those guys everything.”

His friends laughed it off, but he didn’t. Because the more he thought about it… the more it made sense. No competition, no pressure, total access. He could get inside the circle instead of awkwardly hovering outside it. So he did it.

At first, it felt like hacking the system. The girls welcomed him immediately. No suspicion, no barriers, just instant inclusion. He was suddenly in group chats, getting invited to brunches, shopping trips, late-night hangouts. Sleepovers were the biggest win. He’d lie there, surrounded by laughter, soft lighting, casual closeness… thinking: This is it. This is how it starts. All he had to do was wait. Let them get used to him. Let one of them see him differently. Simple. Except… the lifestyle wasn’t what he expected. It wasn’t just proximity, it was immersion.

“Okay but we need snacks”, one of them would say during movie night. And that meant a lot of snacks. Chips, candy, takeout, desserts, things kept appearing, piling up between them as they sprawled across couches and beds. At first, he played it cool, taking small portions, staying mindful, but the environment wore him down.

“Don’t be shy, eat!”, they’d insist, pushing food toward him. And eventually… he did. Meanwhile, his old friend group started noticing the shift. At first, it was just the absence.

“Where’ve you been lately?”, one of them asked when he finally showed up again.

“Busy”, he shrugged. “Different crowd now.”

They teased him about it, of course. “Ohhh, he’s got a secret life now.”

But when he told them, half-proud, half-smug, about his plan, about how he’d infiltrated a girls’ group and was 'playing the long game', they were impressed.

“Okay, that’s actually genius”, one said. “Keep us posted.”

And he did. At first, the updates sounded like victories. “I’m in everything now”, he told them. “They literally invite me to everything.”

But then… “Dude, we just sit around and eat half the time”, he laughed. “It’s kinda crazy.” They didn’t think much of it, not yet. The changes were subtle in the beginning. A little softness around his stomach, a slight fullness in his face. Nothing dramatic, nothing anyone would call out, but it didn’t stop there. Because the routine didn’t change. If anything, it intensified.

“Let’s order more.”

“Wait, we need dessert.”

“Oh my god, you have to try this.”

And he did, every time. The first real moment came during a night out with his old friends. He showed up late, pulling at his shirt a little as he walked in.

“Yo!”, one of them greeted him, then paused. “…Have you been hitting the gym less?” It was said casually, but the glance lingered.

Another friend smirked. “Or hitting something else more?”

He laughed it off, brushing it aside. “Nah, just been busy.” But he noticed it. The way their eyes flicked down, just for a second, the way his shirt didn’t sit the same anymore. Back with the girls, things felt… easier. They didn’t question the changes. If anything, they leaned into them. One night, as he reached across the table and grabbed a handful of fries before anyone else could, one of them laughed.

“Wow. Okay, greedy.”

“Seriously”, another added, nudging him. “Leave some for the rest of us, piggy.”

They all giggled. He did too, but he didn’t stop eating. Weeks turned into months. The softness became weight. His stomach pushed outward now, noticeable even under looser clothes. His chest had changed too, no longer firm, but soft, shifting slightly when he moved. And still… the plan hadn’t worked, not even close. He tried, though. That was the worst part.

One afternoon, while walking with a couple of the girls, he decided to test the waters. “So… would you ever date someone in the group?”, he asked, trying to sound casual.

They exchanged looks. “Like who?”, one of them asked.

He shrugged, forcing a grin. “I don’t know. Me?”

There was a pause, then laughter. Not cruel, but not encouraging either. “You’re like… one of the girls”, she said. “Yeah”, another added. “I literally cannot picture that.” He laughed with them, but it stung.

Later, he tried again, this time with someone new at a party. Back in the old days, he would’ve had a shot. Now? He leaned in, tried his usual charm. She glanced at him, her eyes flicking down, lingering just a bit too long on his softened midsection, the way his shirt clung awkwardly to his chest.

“Oh”, she said, polite but distant. “I’m actually talking to someone.”

He nodded, stepping back. And for the first time, he felt it, the difference. Even his old friends couldn’t ignore it anymore.

“Bro…”, one of them said during another meetup. “You’re actually getting kinda big.”

“Yeah”, another added, half-laughing. “That ‘plan’ of yours is working a little too well… just not the way you wanted.”

He rolled his eyes, defensive. “It’s temporary.”

“Is it?” someone shot back. No one pushed further, but the doubt was there.

Back with the girls, the teasing had become routine.

“Slow down!”

“Leave some for us!”

“Oh my god, you ate all of that?”

One night, during a sleepover, one of them tossed something at him. He caught it, confused. A bra. The room erupted into laughter.

“Honestly?”, she grinned. “You might need it.”

He smirked, playing along, but he couldn’t ignore the way his chest actually shifted when he moved. How it wasn’t entirely a joke anymore. By the time it fully sank in, it was too late. The plan had failed, completely. He had access, yes. He had closeness, inclusion, everything he thought he wanted. But attraction? Gone, replaced by something softer, friendlier, harmless. And his body told the same story. No longer the lean, overlooked jock. Now something rounder, heavier. A little greedy, a little too eager around food. The one who finished everything before anyone else could. He still hung out with them, still laughed, still joined in. But every now and then, he’d catch a glimpse of himself, reflected in a mirror, or in the subtle way people looked at him differently now. And he’d remember where this started, a 'genius' plan, a simple idea, a way to finally get what he wanted. Instead, he got exactly what he earned. Karma didn’t just flip the outcome. It reshaped him entirely, inside the group, inside the lifestyle. And most visibly… Inside his own skin.

At some point, the balance finally tipped. What had started as 'just hanging out with a different crowd' slowly turned into something else, something his old friends couldn’t really ignore anymore. It wasn’t just that he showed up less. It was how he showed up when he did.

“Dude… what are you wearing?”

He’d walked up to them one afternoon, dressed in something looser, softer, an oversized shirt that hung off him in a way it never used to.

“What?”, he shot back, defensive.

One of them smirked. “Nothing, man. Just… you’ve changed.” Another chimed in, not even trying to hide it. “Yeah, you’re literally one of them now.”

He rolled his eyes. “Relax. It’s just clothes.”

But then came the line that stuck. “You’re even growing a pair of tits yourself now.” That one hit differently. They all laughed, like it was just another joke, but their eyes said otherwise. They weren’t imagining it. His chest did push against the fabric now, softer, fuller than before. And for once, he didn’t have a comeback ready.

After that, the invites slowed down, group chats went quiet, plans happened without him. At first, he told himself it was just timing. Then he realized… it wasn’t. He tried to fix it. One day, out of nowhere, he showed up at the gym where they all used to train together.

“Yo”, he said, forcing confidence as he walked in. They looked surprised.

“Didn’t expect to see you here”, one of them said, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, well”, he shrugged. “Figured I’d get back into it.”

There was a pause, then a smirk. “Good, you need it.”

He told himself it would be easy. It used to be easy. But the moment he started… it felt wrong. Weights that once felt light now dragged his arms down. His breathing got heavier faster. His body didn’t move the way it used to, it felt slower, softer, less controlled.

Meanwhile, his friends watched, not subtly. “C’mon, man”, one of them called out as he struggled through a set. “That used to be your warm-up.”

“I’m just out of practice”, he muttered.

“Out of practice?”, another laughed. “Or just out of shape?”

He pushed harder, tried to keep up, but his body betrayed him. Halfway through, he had to stop, hands on his knees, breathing heavier than he wanted them to see.

“Already?”, someone said.

“Damn”, another added. “Those girls really got you good.”

And then came the worst moment. He moved to another machine, adjusting himself awkwardly as his shirt clung to him. One of them nudged the other, barely whispering, but not quietly enough.

“Bro… it actually jiggles.”

They both cracked up.

“Okay, nah”, the first one said louder now. “We’re getting you a sports bra next time.”

“Seriously”, the other added. “You’ll need support if you keep skipping gym and hitting brunch instead.”

He tried to laugh with them, tried to act like it didn’t bother him, but it did. Because he could feel it too, the way his chest shifted slightly when he moved too fast, the way his stomach got in the way of certain motions that used to feel natural. Everything felt… off.

After that day, he stopped trying to rejoin them, not officially. He just… didn’t come back, and they didn’t ask. So he drifted fully into the other life, the one that had started as a plan, the one that had quietly taken everything else. Back with the girls, nothing slowed down. If anything, it got worse.

“Wait, are you seriously ordering another thing?”, one of them laughed as he added extra items to their takeout.

“What?”, he grinned. “We’ll share.”

“Yeah, right”, she shot back. “You’ll eat half of it before it even gets here.”

They weren’t wrong. Movie nights turned into full-on feasts, and he was always at the center of it, reaching first, finishing last. Taking 'just one more bite' until there was nothing left.

“Greedy”, they teased, poking his side.

“Actually though”, another added, watching him go back for more. “You don’t even wait anymore.”

He just smirked, didn’t deny it.

One night, sprawled out on the couch, he caught his reflection in the dark TV screen. For a second, he didn’t recognize himself, the softer face, the fuller frame, the way his shirt stretched slightly across his chest and stomach.

Then one of the girls leaned over and poked him. “You’re getting comfy, huh?”

He glanced at her. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

She grinned. “Just saying… you’ve definitely settled in.”

Another voice chimed in. “Yeah. He’s not leaving anytime soon. We’ve claimed him.”

“Obviously”, someone else laughed. “He eats too much to survive on his own now.”

They all laughed. And this time… he didn’t even try to argue. Because deep down, he knew. They were right, he’d lost the old life, lost the friends who used to define him, lost the version of himself that used to fit in that world. And in its place? Something softer, hungrier, a little lazier, a little greedier. The plan had worked perfectly. He’d gotten inside, stayed inside, became part of it. Just not in the way he ever intended. And now? There wasn’t really a way back, not with the way his body had changed, not with the way people saw him now, not with the way he’d started to see himself. So he stayed, on the couch, at the table, in the group. Laughing along as they teased him, reaching for another bite before anyone else could. Exactly where karma had decided he belonged.