or if they are screaming

anonymous asked:

imagine victor and yuuri arguing about last names? yuuris like "victor, i've been imagining myself with your last name since i was 12" and victors like "well IVE been thinking about having YOUR name since i was ELEVEN" and yuuris like victor. i was 7. you didn't know me then. and victors like "you know what? you're right but i'm still mad."

LMAO

Warm Weather

It’s summer, and everything is better.

The air smells sweeter, the sun shines brighter, and, though your worries are still present, there is a comforting sense of ease that accompanies you that wasn’t there before. Summer, you would argue, is contentment in the form of a season.

On one particular summer day, you are relaxing inside your home while laying on your couch. You have a popsicle in hand and the windows are open wide behind you; a cool breeze makes the curtains dance. Distantly, you register the sound of a lawnmower and an ice cream truck’s jingle. You’ve missed this. You haven’t had the chance to relax in awhile. Someone’s grilling - you can smell it - and you muse about the barbecues you might attend. 

The ice cream truck is getting closer and by the sound of it it’s just turned down your street. The song it plays is one you’d normally find annoying, but today it only makes you grin with all that it implies. Summer. Relaxation. Freedom. You might get ice cream later on, but for now you have your popsicle and you don’t really want to get up anyways. 

You should probably call your friends and see if they want to get together. You had all promised to stay in touch over the summer, but you know you’re not that great at reaching out. Through your window behind you, you hear the jingle grow louder. The ice cream truck must be right outside your house now. 

Maybe you’ll even do a bit of cleaning. You sure hadn’t gotten around to “spring cleaning,” but better late than never. It’s-it’s really loud now, isn’t it? Why is the ice cream truck’s music so loud? You can barely hear yourself think. In fact, it sounds like it’s coming from inside your house now. But that’s ridiculous.

The window is still at your back and the song only grows louder. You don’t want to move. Why should you? It’s crazy. There’s no way it’s inside your house-

An icy cold hand wraps itself around your shoulder.

It screams. You scream.

W e  a l l  s c r e a m  f o r  i c e  c r e a m .

  • *Going to a Haunted House*
  • Jackson: If you get scared, you can hold my hand
  • Mark: O-okay
  • *Enters House*
  • Jackson: *Clings to Mark* D-don't w-worry, none of this is real.
  • Mark: ...
  • Mark: I'm not scared.
  • Jackson: well, I wasn't talking to you.