At a restaurant. A hungry Tyranitar waddles through the narrow door and takes a seat at the counter. He's usually a little reserved, but this time he's too hungry to even bother. He orders everything that catches his eye, and when the food arrives, he gobbles it down with such force that he barely even glances. Every grapple makes his body swing, every bite makes his body ripple violently, and every grapple makes his already huge gut feel even more stuffed. Thanks to his weight, he can eat as much delicious food as he wants without worrying about limits. And he can also store more happiness. Without even realizing it, his heavy tail is wagging. His tail, heavy and difficult to lift, covered in scratches and dust, scrapes against the ground, swaying as if wiping the floor.

Just as he began to feel full and calm down a bit, he realized he was surrounded by so many Pokemon. He slowly turns around. Surely, eating a monstrous amount of food while wobbling would attract attention. He found himself becoming increasingly embarrassed. His arms stopped moving for a moment. But at least his curiosity was positive. He struggled to think of what to say, then shyly asked if they were interested in his chubby body. The crowd murmured, but after a while, one brave soul asked if they wanted to touch him. They hesitantly approached and touched his tail. Seeing this, he waggled his tail invitingly and cheerfully told everyone they were welcome to touch him. This caused the crowd to let go of their patience and start playing around him.

He then enjoyed the rest of his meal, letting his tail, butt, back, and belly continue to be touched. Some even ordered more food for him. He complied and cleaned up effortlessly. As the fun heated up, he took out his phone, showed them his social media account, and began introducing his gaining journey. Surrounded by softness and warmth, 1 Big One and everyone enjoyed a tasty time.

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It's Day 17. I don't draw people from behind very often, so it's quite difficult. As you can see, the position of the arms is clearly wrong. If it were a proper pic, I would revise it until I was satisfied, but this is Fattytober, after all. I have to compromise to some extent.

On the other hand, for some reason, the story is getting longer and longer. Maybe I wanted to write the story rather than draw art. I used to be the worst at drawing. Even now, sometimes I can't believe I'm an artist.