FBar75
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Summary
Aviation monitor Fairlie's seen as a pretty lazy guy, according to his coworkers. Always stays in his office, yet never seems to be doing much. His supervisors only check to see if Fairlie's online, which he always is, and it's granted him a pretty kushy job in the privacy of the mostly dis-used aviation wing of his sleepy county's security complex. Naturally, this has enabled Fairlie to more than just keep up with his demanding sleep schedule and rumbling stomach.
Though, perhaps he's not as sneaky as he thinks he is.
OR
The voice at the other end of the line takes great pleasure in teasing the poor, shy idiot relentlessly. Somehow, Fairlie doesn't hate it.
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Desk Jobs and Snack Drawers by feltedteefling
Fandoms: Critical Role: Exandria (Web Series)
04 Jul 2026
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Beau had put on weight since she'd started doing more desk-based than field-based work for the Cobalt Soul.
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The Pursuit of Gluttony and Obesity by Anonymous for Steves_Scoops
Fandoms: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
22 May 2026
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All Steve has ever wanted in his life was to get very fat.
(Contains Extreme Weight Gain)
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after winning free pizza for a year, Michael discovers the unintended (yet predictable) consequences of his gluttony
luckily, his girlfriend Lucie is more than onboard
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Ponchik by yesithinksoprobably
Fandoms: Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers | Heated Rivalry - All Media Types, Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
25 Jun 2026
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Inspired by a conversation that happened on tumblr that I couldn't get out of my head
Shane gets brattier as he gets fatter. Ilya loves to play.
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“Oh my poor fat husband can’t get himself up off the couch, walk three steps and then bend over to plug in his own laptop?” Ilya teases, pretending to be shocked, but the skin around his eyes is crinkled and there is a mirthful glint in his look.
“I can too do it!” Shane protests indignantly, “...I just don’t want to,” he finishes, impishly wagging his eyebrows and holding Ilya’s gaze.
He folds his arms stubbornly over the top of his belly. The gesture only emphasizes his squishy biceps, and the lack of space between his beefy upper arms and the thick rolls of fat wrapping around his chest.
“Shane,” Ilya says in his most commanding voice, “Stand up.”
“No!”
“Shayna. Stand. Up.” Ilya hits every syllable, upping the tone of warning in his voice.
“I don’t want to” Shane protests petulantly. Nakedly defiant now. The game is truly on.