
OK SO I HAVE A GRUB. AND BEFORE ANY OF YOU START, YES, HE’S FUCKING ADORABLE. I KNOW. I HAVE EYES. HE’S GOT GAMZEE’S HORNS AND HAIR, MY TEETH, AND SOMEHOW THE COLOR OF THE INSIDE OF A FUCKING BANANA. HIS BLOOD IS THAT SAME WEIRD YELLOW COLOR, TOO, BECAUSE APPARENTLY THAT’S WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU THROW A MUTANT BLOOD INTO THE MIX. HIS TEMPERATURE IS ALSO ABSOLUTELY FUCKED. HE’S COLD. NOT ‘OH, HIS LITTLE HANDS ARE A BIT CHILLY’ COLD. I MEAN COLD AS A CORPSE. I’M CONSTANTLY HAVING TO WRAP HIM UP, CUDDLE HIM, OR GIVE HIM A WARM BATH JUST TO GET HIM BACK TO A TEMPERATURE THAT DOESN’T MAKE ME THINK I’M GOING TO HAVE TO START SCREAMING FOR A MEDIC. WHICH, OF COURSE, HE LOVES. THE SECOND HE GETS INTO WARM WATER, HE STARTS MAKING THESE LITTLE CHIRPS AND HONKS AND GETS THIS LITTLE GLEAM IN HIS EYES. AND I SWEAR TO GOG, IT’S THE EXACT SAME LOOK GAMZEE GETS WHEN HE’S ABOUT TO DO SOMETHING THAT’S GOING TO MAKE ME QUESTION EVERY DECISION I’VE EVER MADE. SO THAT’S FUCKING GREAT. I’VE SPENT A LOT OF TIME WORRYING ABOUT WHETHER I’M ACTUALLY CAPABLE OF TAKING CARE OF HIM. HE’S SO SMALL, AND THERE’S SO MUCH THAT CAN GO WRONG WHEN YOU’RE RESPONSIBLE FOR SOMETHING THAT CAN’T EXACTLY TELL YOU WHAT IT NEEDS YET. BUT I’M FIGURING IT OUT. I’M LEARNING HIS LITTLE SOUNDS. I KNOW WHICH ONES MEAN HE’S HUNGRY, WHICH ONES MEAN HE WANTS TO BE HELD, AND WHICH ONES MEAN HE’S PROBABLY ABOUT TO GET INTO SOMETHING HE SHOULDN’T. I’M STILL WORRIED. PROBABLY ALWAYS WILL BE. BUT I’M STARTING TO THINK MAYBE THAT’S NOT ENTIRELY A BAD THING. MAYBE IT JUST MEANS I CARE. …AND, YEAH. I’VE GOTTEN PRETTY FUCKING ATTACHED. IF HE MAKES ONE OF THOSE LITTLE HONKS AT ME, I’M GETTING UP TO SEE WHAT HE WANTS. WHICH IS FINE. HE’S MY GRUB. I LOVE HIM. I’M PROBABLY GOING TO REGRET POSTING THIS LATER, BUT WHATEVER.
