i 405

Southern California Gothic
  • "It will rain." they say. They say that every day. And every day, you wait. How long have you waited? You don't know anymore.
  • You stop at a dusty intersection. At all corners, there are people with fruit stands. The cherries are 2 dollars a pound. You see the sign saying no stands. You look to the police. They have one too. The strawberries are a dollar a basket.
  • You're walking in LA along Hollywood Boulevard. You walk along the stars. It feels like forever. So many and yet so many still. You eventually find your own name on one for film. You have never been in a movie. Or so you think.
  • "Let's go to In-N-Out," says your friend. Which one? There are no other burger places around. There is only In-N-Out. There is always only In-N-Out.
  • You walk past a person in a Dodgers hat. Not uncommon. Everyone owns one. Everyone you walk past wears one. You reach up onto your head. You are one of them.
  • You go to a restaurant with a friend. Everything is gluten free. You don't mind. Everything is. What even is gluten? You don't know, but you are horrified by it.
  • The beach is nice in the summer. The beach is nice in spring. The beach is nice. The beach is your friend, your overlord. You must respect it. Bow to it before stepping on its sandy shores.
  • You get onto the 405. Siri says you only go 5 miles before getting off on the exit ramp. It has been decades since she said that last. Your hands are old and wrinkled as they grip the wheel. Siri says you have 4 miles to go. It's faster than usual.
  • You park your car on the side of the road and get out. The beach. You look at the top of your car to find a surfboard. You don't own a surfboard. You do now and have accepted it as your new way of life. You go to put on your wetsuit.
  • Your friend says she has tickets to the next concert. You ask where. She laughs. It is everywhere. The Bowl. The Forum. Staples Center. It is everywhere at once. All concerts are.
  • You debate on where to go for summer vacation. The fight ensues. Magic Mountain, Knott's Berry Farm, Universal Studios, and Disneyland. They fight for your affection and your money for when summer comes. This happens every year.
  • The palm tree outside your window waves at you in the wind. The palm trees are your ever present, looming protector. They are always watching.
  • You hear the chiming of the elotero's cart. You grab your money and run out the door. There is no elotero. The bell still rings. It always rings.

She’s alive.


Halsey song lyric imagine

wordcount: 2.1k

Summary:  Y/N and Jughead take a long drive out of Riverdale for a road trip and discover their hidden feelings for each other 

Warnings: swearing, slight smut, drinking

‘Swerving on the 405, I can never keep my eyes off this’

We’d been driving for hours, we didn’t even know where we were going anymore, or what were running from. The sudden impulsive decision to get out of town and take a road trip was decided by Jughead. He had been distressed at school lately and said he had a lot of stuff going on in his head, and he needed to get away. 

Me being the good friend I am, and caring a great deal for him, didn’t want him to be alone so I decided to make the offer on taking him away for a while. 

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anonymous asked:

Can you write a short one shot/fic for bellamy finding out octavia is alive??

i wanted to post this before 405 but i didn’t have time sorry babe; so here it is now, just tweaked a little bit.


Dawn is just breaking when Clarke stumbles down next to him, soot stained and weary, leaning heavily on his shoulder. Around them the triage was finally nearing an end, most people heading off to what little was left for sleep.

Octavia still lays in his lap, a furrow between her brows and Bellamy has been focused on nothing but the quiet up-down of her chest for the past few hours.

“How’s she doing?” Clarke asks, her voice hoarse.

He gives a one shoulder shrug, taking care not to jostle either one of them. “Alright I guess. I can tell she’s in pain, but she’s trying to hide it,” he says as he fondly looks down at his sister, tenderly brushing her hair away from his face.

She gnaws at her bottom lip, absentmindedly rubbing circles into Octavia’s hand. “I wish I had painkillers or something to help her-”

“Clarke,” Bellamy interrupts, finally tearing his eyes away from his sister to look at her. Her eyes are glassy, dark purple bruises beneath them and her skin is streaked with soot and ash. She looks as though she’s ready to fall over any second now, and his heart clenches at the thought of her running around and spreading herself thin as one of their only medical officers left.

He lets his free arm shoot out, pulling her into him for a clumsy hug, and she makes a surprised sound in the back of her throat.

“Thank you,” he says, voice cracking. His chapped lips catch on her hair and she smells overwhelmingly of smoke and musk, but he can still make out that faint note of something else underneath, the barest scent of antiseptic and herbs that’s just so Clarke as he presses his face to the crown of her head. “Thank you for saving her.”

Clarke clings to him just as fiercely, he realises, tucking her head into the crook of his neck and taking a shuddering breath. “It was nothing,” she replies, voice thick, “I did what I had to do. Octavia did all the hard work.”

“Still.” Bellamy pulls back, but she doesn’t go far, leaving her fist curled into his jacket and an arm slung around his waist. His own hand drops to her hip, pressing lightly there. “Thank you.”


They both fall silent, watching as their people sort through the wreckage while the early morning sun streaks through the remaining tendrils of smoke.

“You should get some rest,” he says after a while, when the sun is almost fully above the horizon.

“I know but I,” she falters for a beat, eyes dropping as she stares off into the distance, “There’s so much that we need to see about now.”

“You’re no use dead on your feet,” he scolds her gently, before smoothing his hand up her side, “Everything will still be here to figure out in a few hours.”

Clarke slumps, letting her head drop onto his shoulder, and he feels the expansion of her chest as she breathes him in. “Can we figure it out later?”

His lips tick up at the familiar words, and Bellamy lets his head drop on top of hers. When he closes his eyes, he can pretend, just for a moment, that everything is okay. That the air isn’t cold and heavy with smoke, that people aren’t already dying, that they’ve somehow found that one miraculous solution to all their problems.

Her hand sneaks into his, linking their pinky fingers, and his breath catches when she squeezes gently.

“Whenever you’re ready,” he breathes out, before squeezing back in turn.

Shit Abled People Say #405

*after I - someone who typically stays away from substances - had to break down and tell my family about my dissociating and the really severe symptoms I’ve been having due to school stress*

My mom: Are you sure you’re not just on something? Do I have to come visit you and search your room for drugs?


every episode of criminal minds ☰ 8.02 the pact

If you drove a V8 engine with a single plane crankshaft eighty miles per hour in good traffic, you took the I-5 to the 405 to the 10 east, got off on La Cienega, went right on Washington, north on Vermont, and then snuck up Selma using the back alley, you could do it in an hour, forty-two minutes, and still have time for tacos.

After The Lights Go Out

Summary: I’m trash. Ugh, I don’t know.  Negan finally acts on his stalkerish actions???  MAX AND NEGAN MERGED INTO ONE.
Request Summary: “Can you write something about a girl who negan saved when she was young/kid and now that she is growing up as a women they starting to love each other, smut or daddy dom” - Anon
POV: Negan
Characters: Kylie and Negan
Word Count: 5102
Warnings: Cursing, hella smut too
Authors note:  I’m complete trash for mixing Max and Negan together.  I totally stole some of Max’s quotes from the movie and some of his creepy nature. What is wrong with me? I swear, for me, writing smut is almost like, embarrassing, but I gotta do what I gotta do. Anyways, I’m trash for writing this and I hope you all like my trashy writing.  Here, have another fucking cliffhanger. 
Parts: 1/1 - Completed
Quote of the story: “Today was a productive ass day and it just started!”
P.S.  I’m also willing to write FF for Max.
P.S.S. How the hell did I gain 100 followers in like three days? I haven’t even posted anything in a while?! I have 405 followers now and I just started this blog. 
P.S.S.S.  Which story do you want next? Special Room, Hurricane Negan, Little Lamb, or something new? I honestly don’t know if I will continue on with Little Lamb or Hurricane Negan, tbh. 


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