A/N: yay part two of this lovely imagine!!!! and yes i’m already like half way done part three so expect that soon too :)
Word Count: 3,793
The reaction you were getting from the many Leafs players and staff, accompanied by their families or girlfriends, was one you were used to as people first saw your childhood house. Cause, well it couldn’t even really be considered a house. Even before your fathers NHL career, both he and your mother came from money, so much that it embarrassed you now to say what sort of numbers were sitting in your bank account. But your embarrassment wasn’t to be mistaken by ungrateful, cause boy were you ever grateful.
Ok guys so this the first one in a while I’m happy with! I
really hope you guys like this one! I’ve got nothing else so… enjoy!
Warning: cheesy pick-up lines (all clean though), one cuss
Anon Request: Hey i know you have many imagines coming and i
REALLY look forward to Reading them, but When you have time could you do One
where Carter hart uses some Really shitty pickup line on you but its cute and
Carmilla nervously fixed the bow tie on her suit. She then wrung her hands together, shifting awkwardly in her seat, and glanced shyly at her friend.
Laura looked beautiful tonight. She wore a red sweater with a green scarf and had her hair up in a nice braid. Carmilla admired the way Laura’s eyes sparkled with how excited she was. The tiny cupcake was filled to the brim with joy.
Carmilla wasn’t normally the type to settle down. Nor to interact with other humans. She kept to herself, spending hours in the university library, reading up on philosophers like Camus and Epicurus and Seneca. She met Laura during finals week, when the poor thing was frantic about her own philosophy final and was sprawled out on the floor, books and cocoa in front of her, hair a frazzled mess.
Perhaps it was that Laura was nearly in tears. Or that she had pulled half of her hair out. But Carmilla just couldn’t sit quietly in her comfy chair and let her suffer. She wanted to help. So, pushing down the anxiety that bubbled in her chest, she curiously quips, “Y'know cupcake, you’re not going to learn any of that material with your head pressed into the textbook like that.”
“It doesn’t hurt to try.” Laura mumbles.
And from then on, their friendship blossomed. It was strange for Carmilla. Typically she didn’t make friends this well, but there was something… different about Laura.
And through Laura, she met her annoying group of ginger nerd friends. She enjoyed the company of some, Lafontaine and Perry. Others, like Kirsch or Danny, not so much. Mel was slowly growing on her; Carmilla found it funny how the no nonsense, grouchy one of the group turns to mush whenever she interacts with her girlfriend Charolette, Silas University’s personal historian. Those two are so in love it makes Carmilla gag.
“Carm?” The young woman blinked back into existence after hearing her soft voice, and discreetly hid her shaking hands beneath her legs. “Hey. Are you okay?”
“Yeah. Fine. Totally fine.”
Laura gave her a gentle smile, “Because you have literally been quiet this entire car ride and I just recited the whole script of the Bee Movie.”
Carmilla blinked, “Wait, what the fuck?”
Her friend laughed, “Just keeping you on your toes, silly. I had the radio on.”
“Christ, why am I friends with you.”
“I gave you a freshly baked batch of cookies in return for helping me ace that philosophy final,” Laura grins, and Carmilla’s stomach flips, “admit it. You only love me for the cookies and sweets.”
Carmilla grew quiet at that, blushing.
Laura cleared her throat, shaking her head to clear the awkwardness. “Anyway, thanks for letting me spend thanksgiving with you. It’s… a long way from Canada and this’ll be my first holiday season spending it without my dad. He argued with me that sending me back for a weekend trip wouldn’t be worth the money.” She smiles, “That was sweet of you, Carm.”
Carmilla smiles back, “You’re the first friend I made at Silas. I couldn’t leave you hanging.”
“Well, what do yah know. Scrooge Mcvampire really DOES have a heart.” Laura laughs, gently pinching Carm’s cheek. Sparks coursed through her entire being. She wondered if Laura felt them too. “Now. Fess up. Why are you nervous?”
Carmilla’s mouth gaped open. Damn. Laura was good. They’ve only known each other for a month, and yet, Laura could read her better than any of her siblings.
“I’m nervous about my family,” Carmilla admitted, shaking her head, “They’re a bit… um….”
Suddenly the door to Carmilla’s home burst open, causing the young woman to flinch.
“MAMA! KITTY’S HERE!”
“It’s BEEN THREE THOUSAND YEARS, KITTY!” A young boy bellowed, running down the stairs. He looked like a miniature version of Carm, and wore an adorable super man onesie and glasses on the bridge of his nose.
Carmilla breathed out a chuckle and opened the car door, letting herself out and engulfing the young boy into a hug.
Laura’s heart melted.
“WILLIAM LUCE MORGAN, how many times do I have to tell you, DO NOT RUN OUT OF THE HOUSE WITHOUT SHOES?! YOU’LL CATCH A COLD!” yelled a new voice, and the doorframe now revealed a glamorous-looking woman wearing a ball gown dress and diamond earrings.
Her expression changed when she saw Carmilla. “Little monster! You’re home!” She hurried over to greet them, “William, release your hold on her, give her a second to get out of the car.”
Carmilla laughs, and Laura smiles as William kept his grip on her leg while she hugs her sibling.
“Now. Are you going to be rude and not introduce me to your little friend who kindly drove you here? Or shall I go over there myself?”
“She’s not my girlfriend, you brat!” The young woman exclaimed, hitting him across the head.
Laura giggles, loving the interaction between the three and boldly stepping over, bumping shoulders with Carm. She notices the shy smile her friend gives her and the blush forming on her cheeks.
She kindly extended her hand, “Thank you for your kind hospitality and inviting me into your home for the day. My name is Laura. Laura Hollis. I am a freshman at Silas university and currently studying journalism. Hoping a company can pick up my videos and blogs online so I can get my name out there. Admiringly… I haven’t had much luck with that one.” She scratched the back of her head, “When you’re a small town chick that’s officially flown the nest, realizing that you might not reach your goals right away really crushes the determination factor.”
Mattie smiles softly, ignoring Laura’s hand and going in for a hug, “You’ll get there someday, love. Don’t push yourself too hard. You never know when someone’s going to notice you.”
Laura felt warmth and comfort in her embrace, “At least someone else is encouraging.” She smiles shyly, eluding to the fact that her father doesn’t exactly agree with her career choice in life or find it practical. Carmilla squeezed her shoulder.
Mattie clapped her hands together, “Well. I don’t know about you three, but it’s cold as the North Pole out here and there’s a turkey waiting for us. Who here’s ready to stuff our faces and ignore all the political catastrophes going on in our government right now? Honestly, the world would be such a better place if I became the president and not that nasty, wretched Vordenburg scum.”
Carmilla’s eyes widened, “Yes. Turkey. Excellent way to start with an old American tradition, Mattie. Please lead us the way to the kitchen.” The quicker she can divert political talk, the better. She then pressed her hands onto Mattie’s back and pushed her towards their door.
Laura chuckled at them. William smiled up at her, reaching out to put his tiny hand into hers. “Carmilla likes you.”
“Of course she does, she’s my friend.”
“I mean, liiiiiiiike liiiiiikes you. She never brings anyone home. So you two should probably be getting married soon.”
“M-married?!” Laura sputtered. Shit. Kids really have no sense of time. “William, how old do you think I am?”
“I dunno. Twenty four?”
“I’m nineteen, kiddo.”
William paused. “Do you love my sister?”
Laura blushed. “I-I… w-well…” she shrugged her shoulders, “Perhaps someday.”
That seemed to be a good enough answer for the boy. “Then you’ll tell her someday.” Laura sighs, heart growing three sizes in her chest. They smiled at each other for a moment, before William shuddered and started jumping up and down, “Aaah! Cold! Cold, cold, cold, cold!”
Laura laughs, gently ushering the boy inside his home. “C'mon, kiddo. I can smell the turkey from here and it’s calling my name. You can warm up inside.”
“LAST ONE THERE IS A ROTTEN EGG!” William rushed out, leaving Laura in the dust.
Hoo boy. This certainly was going to be an interesting dinner. Laura was excited. She couldn’t wait.
Can you write noorhelm oneshot where William is sick and Noora has to take care of him? Thanks so much ❤
It’s only short but enjoy <3
For the record, William
was not sick.
he had a fever, sore throat and a headache but he wasn’t
there was anything that William Magnusson was used to at this stage
in his life, it was fending for himself. He knew his body like no one
else and sure he felt like crap and had thrown up 3 times in the last
24 hours but he was not sick.
the fact that William kept reminding her of exactly that, Noora
didn’t seem to believe him and had taken it upon herself to look
couldn’t remember the last time he had a motherly figure looking over
him and while thinking about his girlfriend as a motherly figure kind
of creeped him out, he couldn’t help but notice her knack for looking
after him. William suspected it was because she was the only person
in the world – besides Chris – who wasn’t scared of him and
called him out on his lies when necessary.
now, for example.
like the 4th roll of toilet paper you’ve sneezed your way
through, you are sick.”
Comedic Writing for the Tragically Awkward and Humorless
Let’s face it: not everyone can be Robin Williams. Sure, we might manage to elicit a snicker or two from our fellow awkward friends, but if we’re honest, most social interactions end with us feeling less like Mrs. Doubtfire and more like…well…
While I’m sure there are some of you out there making your girlfriends giggle with your dank memes and your enviable amounts of natural charisma, most of us have been hiding out under a rock after the one joke we ever attempted making backfired so badly we considered becoming a hermit and never accidentally embarrassing ourselves via human interaction again.
Artists struggle with incorporating comedy into their work. For one, we identify deeply with our pain and our passions, and we wish to portray them in our projects. Not to mention, a majority of artists identify as introverts. Sure, we might make a joke in the comfort of our own minds, but speaking it aloud? Too many unpredictable (and, unfortunately, probable) outcomes. What if someone doesn’t laugh? What if someone misinterprets the innocent meaning of my joke, contorting it into offensive slander? I’d need to move to a new town so that I never have to run into them again and relive my crushing social faux pas!
Because of our natural inclination towards introversion, I’ve noticed a disappointing trend in many an artist to shy away from including comedy in their work. Stories seem inundated with epic action sequences, melodramatic monologues, and the occasional saucy sex scenes, whilst lacking the light-hearted reprieve of a well-timed joke. No one likes to admit that masterpieces require comedy, but the truth is that laughter relaxes the reader, settling their initial uncertainty and allowing for the gradual development of an insatiable hunger within them for the dramatic moments we’re dying to feed them.
So, how do all of us comedically-challenged artists ease our readers into the inevitable tension of our novels?