vodkamutini: (For the record, I'm not vodkamutini on LJ.  I'm just too lazy to make my own icons right now.) (omg yay yarn)
[personal profile] vodkamutini
Okay this is still a work in progress, but I'll write as much as I can and hopefully see this through until the end. Twice. It's sort of daunting! This is my first Homestuck fic, and I've never planned to do such a long fic so... yeah.

Anyway, how this goes is I will take this in both a serious (well, as serious as I can) and a silly direction. They'll be sort of similar, one will just be crackier than the other.

As always, please critique and stuff. It's really appreciate as I'm always up for improving and I'm pretty new in this fandom, so goodness knows I could use critique. (Oh, and I fail and make the silliest typos, so if you spot something let me know so I can fix it and and look less stupid. ♥)

Anyway, onto the fic.


--

==> Be the sick kid in bed

John was sat in bed, in the middle of a Nic Cage movie marathon (he'd just finished Con Air and was starting City of Angels) when his father walked in with another "get well" cake for him. Uugh, it was the last thing he wanted.

"Feeling any better?" Dad asked, setting the plate down on John's nightstand. John just shrugged.

"A little bit." He said, avoiding looking over to the cake nearby.

"I have a surprise for you." Dad said, smiling (Well, maybe. It was hard to tell; his face was rather featureless.) at him. "Nanna's come to see you."

"Oh. Okay." John said, trying to sound enthusiastic. He didn't know her very well, but she seemed nice enough.

As if on cue she walked in then, smiling and seating herself on the foot of his bed. Dad took the opportunity to slink out of the room, leaving the two of them alone.

"Hey! How's the sickie? Hoo hoo hoo~" Before John could respond she continued, taking something out of her bag. "I brought you a special present."

John's arms went in front of his face, instinctively protecting himself from what he was sure would be a pie to the face. Instead, she pulled out a thin book. Huh. He supposed she was going easy on him because he was sick. He lowered his arms, looking at the book curiously and trying to read the title.

"A book? Like, a joke book, or--?" Nanna cut him off.

"That's right; a book. When I was your age, television was called books. And this is a special book. It was the book my adoptive father used to read to me when I was sick, and I used to read it to your father. And today, I'm gonna read it to you." She said, turning off the television with a grin that was either very pleased or very mischievous. John wasn't sure which yet. He really wanted to finish his movie marathon, but Nanna hadn't tried to pull any tricks on him yet, so he figured she must have really wanted to read him the book. He sighed, getting comfortable and accepting that Nic Cage, Meg Ryan and everyone else would have to wait.

Nanna began reading, not waiting for more approval than that.


==> Be Buttercup

Your favorite pastimes are riding your horse and tormenting the farm boy that worked there. His name is Dave, but you never called him that.

(If a young boy were learning this about you via being read it by his Nanna, he would ask "Why?", only to be shushed by his Nanna as she continued to read. That's of no importance to you though.)

Nothing gave you as much pleasure as ordering Dave around.


==> Take the story in a slightly serious direction

==> Take the story in an anything but serious direction
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March 2012

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