I meant to get this done over the holidays but the holidays were just as busy as school. Didn't help I wrote this slow as molasses. Anyway! This story isn't forgotten. Hopefully I can do another chapter in a month or two.

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Part 1
Part 6

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Mr. Becker's party went as smoothly as it could have in Maybelle’s mind. The dress Jordan picked out for her was ruffled and loose enough her curves were hidden and the salon trip left her hair, mane and tail extra fluffy, making it hard to tell where her fluff ended and her body began. Not even Becker seemed to notice, only commenting that she looked ‘as lovely as a birdsong’. They presented her with a spot in the League's Hall of Fame, alongside a little plaque she could take home, and after some food and drink, she went home. There were a couple of articles about the award, but nothing more beyond that. Even she had to admit, she looked nice in these photos.

The weeks that followed were fairly quiet and routine. Maybelle would continue to watch some cooking shows she’d started to follow along with and sharing dinners with her partner. They attended their book club, the book they were currently reading was about a murder mystery in a small town. Two of the characters had developed feelings for one another, but neither confessed their feelings after the revelation that the killer was not an individual, but a couple, and both secretly feared the potential suspicion that would fall upon them were they to profess. Maybelle thought it was silly to think they’d be hesitant to confess to one another, but she was in the minority on that.

It had been a month and a half since Becker’s party. She had slept in to later in the morning, and only dragged herself out of bed at the realization it was nearly midday. As she was getting ready to have a shower, Maybelle found herself staring at her own reflection. She knew she wasn't just ‘filling out’ anymore; she was getting fat. Her upper body alone made it evident, as she had to size up her bra more than once in the last year. Her hands slowly ran along the contours of her body. Her rump was most definitely more padded, as she was able to press into her rear much more.

She let her fingers take hold of her sides. She had a modest roll of fat which covered the top of her snug pajama’s elastic waistband, like dough that's risen up and over a bowl's edges. She gave her handles a gentle jostle, causing her middle to jiggle in return. Maybelle couldn't help but blush as she watched through the mirror. As she did, a question crossed her mind: “How heavy am I?”

It didn't take long for her to realize that she genuinely did not know. She glanced at the scale on the bathroom floor. She couldn't even remember the last time she'd stepped on it. Making weights for fights used to be the norm for her, and she tracked it near-religiously. Since going on break, it was just another routine she’d neglected to upkeep. She knew that whatever number showed up, it would be substantially higher than her old fight weights. She used to be a featherweight, she usually hovered around 140 pounds, but now?

With a deep breath, Maybelle stood over to the scale. Looking down, she stepped onto it, the frame of it quietly creaking. The display lit up, and indicated it was actively measuring. Maybelle tried to keep herself calm as she watched the little lines on the display move in circles like a silent drumroll. Then, the scale made a short beep, as it displayed a number: 210 pounds. Maybelle’s eyes narrowed as she stared at the number.

Maybelle stood there, looking down at the number. She knew she had put on weight, but enough to cross the 200 mark? She stepped off the scale, and repeated the weigh-in. The same damning number was given to her. She’d put on roughly seventy pounds in just over a year. She was considered a heavyweight at this size - a fact that only compounded her shock, as there wasn’t even a women’s division for that weight class in the League.

A number of thoughts and feelings ran through her head as the shock subsided. She was disappointed that let herself go this much. She felt a bit embarrassed at the fact. Her thoughts started to fill with exaggerated reactions of people if they were to realize that the undefeated champ was now out of shape.

“Hey, Belle, I thought you were taking a shower?”

Maybelle jumped in surprise as her train of thought was derailed, and spotted the jolteon from the reflection in the mirror. “Oh, Jo! Y-yeah, I was … just looking at myself in the mirror, was all. I stepped on the scale for the first time in a while, and … I guess it was a bit of a surprise.”

Jordan’s eyes quickly darted up and down her partner’s body. Maybelle certainly was softer than she used to be. And Jordan was okay with it. More than okay with it. She couldn’t properly explain it if she tried, but she found herself liking her partners more recent plush proportions. Her mind would routinely drift to thoughts of her partner’s fuller form, often bigger than she was even now, flaunting her extra weight and letting it bounce. Or sometimes, just cuddling with a much larger and softer partner.

“I never really thought about it until I saw myself in the mirror just now. Then when I got on the scale, it said I was 210.” Maybelle continued with a sigh. “I guess I can’t really deny I’ve gotten fat anymore, huh?

“Two Hun- … Really?” Jordan was genuinely surprised upon hearing the number. Internally, hearing that her partner was nearly twice as heavy as she was excited her. She wouldn’t dare express that opinion openly, though. Instead, she approached Maybelle, and gave her a gentle embrace from behind. Her blushing face pressed against the arcanine’s back, and her hands slowly grazed along the surface of the arcanine’s belly. “Well, I guess It creeped up on me as well. I never realized the gradual changes, either. You never looked different to me from one day to the next. But, for what it’s worth, you don’t look that heavy one bit. And even if you did, I’d still love you no matter what.”

Maybelle grumbled softly “Aw, Jo, you’re too good for me, you know that?”. Her hands loosely sat atop Jordan’s, following her motions. While her partner couldn’t see it from there, Maybelle still sported a slight blush herself. She didn’t want to admit it openly, but she found herself enjoying the sensation. “I appreciate the reassurance, Jo. I really do. I think I’m gonna have that shower now, though.”

“Okay! I’ll be downstairs when you’re done.” Jordan perked, giving Maybelle a gentle squeeze and a quick kiss before leaving.

As Maybelle was left to her own thoughts, she finally stepped into the shower. Her mind was still dwelling on the whole situation. For each moment of embarrassment she felt when she thought about how large she was getting, there was also a warm, pleasant feeling as well. In part, it was the affection she would get from Jordan. But there was more to it that simply a good back or belly rub. Some of Jordan’s words would echo in her thoughts. She looked “comforting”, according to her partner. It made sense; she looked much softer than she did when she was a fighter. Perhaps it wasn’t as big a deal as she had thought, if Jordan didn’t seem to think it was either.

“Well, maybe it isn’t that bad if she likes it…” Maybelle began to rationalize to herself. “It’s not like I can’t drop the weight if it’s a problem, either.” She took a sigh of contentment as she stepped out of the shower clean, and got into the loosest clothes she had. As she was finished drying off and dressing, she felt her stomach grumble for food. She hadn’t eaten yet today, and it was already nearly time for lunch. She wasn’t normally one for cravings, but as she was thinking about what to eat, her mouth began to water at the thought of some fresh fries and a burger.

Maybelle made her way downstairs, and called out. “Hey, Jo? How would you feel about ordering something for Paddy Poe’s for lunch?”