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Description
Vargas' footsteps thundered as he sauntered through the space station, his belly shaking with each heavy step. He nervously shifted his eyes across the hallways, hoping that no one was in his vicinity. It was no secret that he had gained an incredible amount of weight since his trip to the peace summit. The comments from his crewmates made him want to shrivel up and die alone. However, it was an encounter with his CO that sent him into a perpetual panic. He remembered his commanding officer coming into his quarters, which were a mess of empty ice cream cartons and shattered glass from an obvious frustrated punch to his full body mirror. He remembered when they tried to comfort him, telling him that he did a great job. And most importantly, he remembered what they said when the subject of his weight came up...

'Relax, big guy! It's called 'weight gain', not 'the end of the world'. Besides... an obese Turian ain't exactly a bad look for our crew, right?'

"Fuck!" Vargas screamed, slamming a fist against the wall. The mere idea that his CO preferred his heftier frame was ludicrous! How could they say that? Why would anyone keep an obese Turian like him aboard? The only rationale that made sense to him was that his CO liked him this way, which freaked him out. Subconsciously, he grabbed at his much rounder, doughier belly and shook it viciously. He could feel how heavier it had gotten, how much jigglier he became, and (most obnoxiously) how he could audibly hear the sloshy, goopy mess inside his gut as he jostled his innards. Almost on cue, his stomach growled as if demanding sustenance. Anger quickly grew as he balled his fists and visibly shook in fury at the monster that never seemed to be satisfied. Vargas then continued on his way, his pace quickening as he found what he was looking for: the mess hall.

"Three toasted chicken bacon ranch subs," Vargas began, slamming his fat finger on the replicator as it began to take his order. "An extra large diet cola and a strawberry cheesecake. That should be enough to shut you up."
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Doesn't have much to do with the image, but that's about all I got for ya. Anyways, here's a new pic of Vargas in which his casual outfit has seen better days. Make of it what you will and enjoy...

Description
Vargas' footsteps thundered as he sauntered through the space station, his belly shaking with each heavy step. He nervously shifted his eyes across the hallways, hoping that no one was in his vicinity. It was no secret that he had gained an incredible amount of weight since his trip to the peace summit. The comments from his crewmates made him want to shrivel up and die alone. However, it was an encounter with his CO that sent him into a perpetual panic. He remembered his commanding officer coming into his quarters, which were a mess of empty ice cream cartons and shattered glass from an obvious frustrated punch to his full body mirror. He remembered when they tried to comfort him, telling him that he did a great job. And most importantly, he remembered what they said when the subject of his weight came up...

'Relax, big guy! It's called 'weight gain', not 'the end of the world'. Besides... an obese Turian ain't exactly a bad look for our crew, right?'

"Fuck!" Vargas screamed, slamming a fist against the wall. The mere idea that his CO preferred his heftier frame was ludicrous! How could they say that? Why would anyone keep an obese Turian like him aboard? The only rationale that made sense to him was that his CO liked him this way, which freaked him out. Subconsciously, he grabbed at his much rounder, doughier belly and shook it viciously. He could feel how heavier it had gotten, how much jigglier he became, and (most obnoxiously) how he could audibly hear the sloshy, goopy mess inside his gut as he jostled his innards. Almost on cue, his stomach growled as if demanding sustenance. Anger quickly grew as he balled his fists and visibly shook in fury at the monster that never seemed to be satisfied. Vargas then continued on his way, his pace quickening as he found what he was looking for: the mess hall.

"Three toasted chicken bacon ranch subs," Vargas began, slamming his fat finger on the replicator as it began to take his order. "An extra large diet cola and a strawberry cheesecake. That should be enough to shut you up."
============================================
Doesn't have much to do with the image, but that's about all I got for ya. Anyways, here's a new pic of Vargas in which his casual outfit has seen better days. Make of it what you will and enjoy...