reckless nights, driving around the illuminated city of L.A. / sneaking into old, abandoned motels with your friends that you’re probably never going to talk to again after high school, but you still say the term BFF all night / cigarette filters in tiny liquor bottles, stained with lipstick / chopping off your hair in a bathroom that isn't yours and not cleaning up afterwards / young love and genuinely believing it’s the end of the world when it ends after a week, finally believing the people who warned you / burning an american flag and throwing your more-than-half-full bottle of jack daniels into the flames
alphabet blocks spelling ‘go fuck yourself’ / your stuffed animals showing up in places you don’t remember placing them / pastel nail polish that messily gets all over your fingers and hands / old photos of babydolls with a lazy eye and bashed-in faces / finally realizing the grim, origin-meanings of the nursery rhymes your parents read you as a kid / watching tom and jerry on drugs / knee-high socks with lacy tops and rip all along the fabric / getting the big-kid swing all to yourself because no one wanted to go to the park with you / tearing the heads off of your animal crackers and gummy bears
standing at the beach at 5 pm, shallow waves crashing onto your feet / burning money you know you need and using it to roll blunts because you want that rich-illusion / driving through california in a white convertible, with palm trees all around you and a girl you just met sitting next to you, while holding her shawl over her head before letting it fly off into the wind / hawaiian shirts and faded, ripped jeans / leaving a small party early and coming home to your expensive suburban condo, falling asleep alone / the ghost of nicotine on your tongue after brushing your teeth
Twenty One Pilots:
colder weather and leaves fallen off every tree / painting vent-quotes on your walls with black and red paint when you can’t sleep / sitting in the school cafeteria with your childhood best friend, jamming on a ukelele / dark thoughts at night that you turn into poetry / secret handshakes that only you and your soulmate know / scribbling out your monsters with a black pen on a three-hole-punch notebook
demolishing stereotypes, the popular girls kissing the nerd girls, jocks showing up at theatre class / games of spin the bottle and 7 minutes in heaven / throwing on your drugstore lipstick and fishnets and catching a bus to a sketchy, glow-blog-material club that doesn't require ID / sinking under chlourine-plagued water with your best friend and yelling something, floating up and trying to guess what the other said / going to a house party on a saturday while sticking to white wine and your friend that dragged you there, but ending up actually having a really good time / not giving a shit about sports but going to a highschool football game to get out of the house
Lana Del Rey:
marilyn-liner and fake lashes / oldies movies playing in the background / emotionlessly breaking expensive jewelry that your ex bought you / loitering at liquor stores until you're asked to leave / getting into a stranger's car solely because they're cute / getting drunk off moonshine and dancing on the pole in the center of the T even though you have no experience
Marina And The Diamonds:
purposely popping your bubblegum as hard as you can when someone asks you to stop chewing so loud / poisoning a milkshake at a 50's style diner / the sound of pouring a handful of diamonds against a mahogany floor / pastel pink leather jackets with a number of feminism pins all over it / a beautiful bouquet of flowers from all the lovers you met with, 1-5 for each day of the week.
Can we just take a moment to imagine what would have happened if Draco had believed the rumors and articles about Harry and Hermione dating in fourth year? Like, yes, he knows that most of Rita Skeeter’s articles are made up, he’s one of her sources after all, but what if this one is true? And no, of course he’s not jealous, how can he be jealous of Granger? But damn it, they’re together all the time and it makes him sick, thinking about what they’re doing while they’re walking around the lake day after day.
So Draco comes up with a plan. A foolproof plan. He snatches a few strands of hair from Hermione’s robes one day after class and makes sure she’s headed to the library. He gulps down the Polyjuice Potion he prepared and hurries to find Harry. He runs into Viktor Krum, who won’t leave him alone and Merlin, why is he holding Draco’s hand? Sweet Salazar, he just kissed Draco’s hand! He’s extremely flustered and confused when he finally finds Harry.
There’s a quick exchange of, “Hermione, I thought you wanted to go to the library?” “Oh, I changed my mind, let’s take a walk around the lake.”
Draco smirks to himself when he and Harry are finally alone. He gets a bit irritated when Harry still hasn’t taken his hand and keeps blabbering about the Triwizard Tournament. Seriously, when does the snogging start? They’ve already rounded the lake once and Potter is still talking. Draco knows he’s running out of time, so he stops walking, grabs Harry by his robes and starts kissing him furiously. Harry lets out a gasp and freezes as Draco attacks his mouth.
Why isn’t Potter kissing him back? He still looks like Granger! When Harry still doesn’t move a muscle, it suddenly dawns on Draco that - Oh! Maybe they really haven’t done that before! Maybe Granger isn’t his girlfriend after all. Shit, what if Draco just made Potter realise he fancies Granger? As it turns out, Draco needn’t worry about that, because when he pulls back, he can see his reflection in Harry’s glasses and oh no! His hair! It’s not bushy and brown, it’s well groomed and blond! Without another word he turns on his heels and runs back to the castle.
In the following weeks, he refuses to meet Harry’s eyes and tries to avoid him as much as possible. On the day of the second task, Draco feels even more foolish. So Granger has been dating Krum? And Weasley is the most important person to Potter?
The next day, Draco is on his way to breakfast, when somebody suddenly grabs his wrist and drags him into an empty classroom. Draco blushes when Harry closes the door behind him and looks at Draco intently. Oh Merlin, is he finally going to confront him?
“You stupid prat,” Potter suddenly exclaims. “What have you done to me? Seriously, because all I could think about in the last few weeks was that bloody kiss!”
Draco just stares at him, not sure he’s comprehending what Harry is saying.
“And last night I dreamed you were the one on the bottom of the lake, not Ron.”
Draco’s brain registers the words, but not the meaning.
“What?” is all he’s able to say.
“Oh, for Merlin’s sake,” Harry bursts out. He reaches out and takes Draco’s face in his hands. Draco has no time to react before Harry presses their bodies together and starts kissing Draco feverishly. After a few moments, Draco makes a high-pitched sound that he should probably be embarrassed about, but who cares? This is an even better outcome than he had hoped for!
Not that he doubted it would work for one second. His plan was foolproof after all!