So. I'm back. Whatcha gonna do 'bout it, bitch? (hopefully nothing. /)-(\ hopefully.)

Special people who deserve glomps and digital cookies are Xx-EmO-OuTcAsT-xX and That Dude The Reads.

Karkat's POV

Dave and I have joked about us having some little shit of our own to watch after ever since we became matesprits two sweeps ago, and, thinking about it, I'm positive Dave mentioned it several times before we were together. But it's only ever been that- a joke. The punchline would always be how shitty we'd be as lusi/parents. After all, between my cussing, Dave's assholery, my assholery, and Dave's cussing, that poor little wriggler would come out as some gogawful mindfuck with the sole purpose of proving how fucking awful Dave and I are at doing anything useful at all.

The problem is... The idea has grown on me a lot over the sweeps. I really want a family. Someday, when I'm an old, grumpy asshole, I want to have some grandkids and shit. I want to have a little shit of my own to watch after. I want the chance to become the overprotective bulgelicker of a lusus I had. I want to be that dickwad of a parent who waves goodbye to their kid every day when they're getting on the bus to go to school- even when they're seventeen and demanding independence. I want to be that lusus who makes their ward watch embarassing, gushy movies. I want to be that parent.

But let's be honest here. All those jokes we've made over the sweeps- none of it was wrong. If we had a little shit of our own to watch after, we'd probably kill it. Or even worse- it'd go exactly the way we always said it would and that kid would come out a mental mindfuck and it would be all my fault.

Arms snake their way around my waist and pick me up ot of my spinny chair. I make my protests very clear to the intruder- Dave, naturally. He sits down in my seat and puts me in his lap in an around his ass, awkward manner. (We're both nine going on ten sweeps old, yet somehow he's maintained that awkward lankiness you expect to see in seven sweep olds.)

"What's wrong?" he asks.

"Who the fuck says anything's wrong? Nothing's wrong."

"You should tell your face that, cuz you looked like you were contemplating the exact uncoolness of your lack of irony- which is pretty fucking bad."

"It's not even that big of a deal."

"What was this small deal about then?"

I open up my grubtop, just so I have an excuse to not look him in the eye. "Just drop it, you insufferable douchebag."

He closes the grubtop. "Come on, Karkat. You look like some fucker just came in and pissed on you parade, taunted you, then shat on your parade. Now what the fuck is it?"

"It's stupid."

"I don't care. It's bothering you, so it's bothering me. Tell me please?"

I groan and bury my face in my hands. I grumble as low as I can.

"What?"

I speak up a tad bit more.

"Don't play games with me."

"I was just thinking about wrigglers, okay? Jegus fuck."

"What about them?"

Hesitantly, I say it. "I want one."

He raises an eyebrow. "Dude, I thought you hated kids because they're all snot-faced little shits."

"They are snot-faced little shits. Just forget about it."

"No. Since when did you of all people want to be a daddy?"

"I don't know? Gog, you're such a pushy dick."

"But you love my dick."

I punch his arm. "Shut the fuck up!"

He laughs. "I don't see why we couldn't."

"Couldn't what?"

"Have a kid."

"Are you out of your gogdamned mind? Our kid would be so fucked up."

"No way, man. Our kid would be the epitome of irony and awesomeness."

"You're full of shit."

"No way. I know we joke a lot about how shitty we'd be as parents, but come on. How bad could we possibly be?"

"Really bad. Really, *really* bad."

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Ugh, you're such an ass."

"Thanks, babe."

"Fuck you."

"Not right now- we're having a serious conversation about us as parents."

I face palm. "Come off it. Maybe you'd be a... okay parent- but I definitely wouldn't be."

"What makes you so sure?"

I shrug. "I just am."

"I'm pretty sure too; pretty sure that we're going to get a wriggler."

"What? No, we can't do that."

"We can, and we will. We are gonna have the most awesome family ever. We're gonna take the most obnoxiously stereotypical family pictures. We're gonna be fucking awesome parents- especially you."

"But what if we aren't?"

"But what if we are?" With a kiss, he unofficially wins the argument.

We're going to adopt a grub, and you know what? I'm so going to be that parent.

This is kind of on the short side, but here it is for you anyways. Take it. Cherish it forever.