For roachpatrol, on AO3.
"Kar, I can’t do this."
"Shut up, Ampora."
"Kar. Seriously I can’t fuckin do this, I’m gonna be sick, it’s gonna get all over my uniform an do you have any idea how long that shit takes to clean, it’s, it’s, it’s not cost-effective. I’m just lookin out for the bottom line here, fuckin sue me.”
"Shut," you say, carefully, "up, Ampora. You are not going to be sick, you are not going to faint, you are not going to forget your fucking lines or disgrace yourself in any way, you are going to do your office fairly and with grace." You’re glowering at yourself in the mirror. The uniform doesn’t look half as good on you as it does on him, possibly because he’s a head taller than you and whip-slender, whereas the best that can be said for you is ‘sturdy.’ Plus the stupid hat doesn’t quite sit over your horns properly, it keeps working its way up to sort of hover an inch above your head as if floating on some kind of field of pure embarrassment.
((no one asked for it but I’m writing it anyway so too bad))
((based very very loosely off ofthis ))
You blink awake in the complete darkness of the middle of the night. Guess you overslept again. You swing your legs off the side of the sleep slab and stretch your arms over your head. Not bothering with proper clothing, you stumble to the kitchen in your underwear and lean in the doorway.