#not a WINK of sleep it literally kept me up the entire night fucking spiralling in anxiety

[electric-friend]

i’m not fucking kidding. i felt sick and shaky and i did not get a single moment of sleep the entire night because of that fucking izzy clip

[quarterfromcanon]

Evading

Heather & Valencia - Femslash February - Day 27 - Quiet [2,207 words] 

Valencia sank onto the outdoor lounge chair with a weary sigh that seemed to rise from the depths of her soul. She shut her eyes and tried to let the pleasant evening temperature mute her thoughts. The glaring sunlit afternoon gave way to a moderate nightfall around her. Splashes of warm colors seeped across the faded blue sky.

A sliver of tentative optimism, or at least the willingness to fight for a brighter outlook, had at last been restored inside the house. Their friend had accepted her recent diagnosis and was prepared to seek treatment. It was the most hope they’d had since before Rebecca disappeared, but such a potentially fragile thread did not provide the type of irrefutable comfort Valencia craved. 

She reached for one of the throw pillows and clutched it near her chest. Even though she had finally allowed herself to cry, Valencia’s throat ached from the countless times she’d suppressed sobs over the past six days. She hid her face behind the fabric of the cushion and curled onto her side.

“Hey.”

Valencia tensed. She sat upright to turn toward the sound. Heather leaned against a nearby pillar with her arms folded over her stomach.

“Hi,” Valencia replied softly.

“Do you mind if I join you?”

Valencia tilted her chin at the vacant lounger. Heather shucked her jacket and swung it across the chair. She reclined to observe the lingering clouds. They were stretched thin and etched in purples and grays like the passage of hours had left them ashen and bruised. Valencia studied them too, but doing so left her feeling small and overwhelmed all over again.

“God, this has been the longest week of my entire life.”

A humorless laugh puffed out of Heather’s chest on an exhale. ���Same.”

The two shared space without talking while the gradient above deepened its hues -- carmine becoming vermilion yet somehow blending seamlessly with saffron and amber.

“V?”

“Mm?”

“Are we okay?”

Valencia smoothed the ruffles on her shirt. “I don’t know,” she admitted, “... but I want to be.”

“Me, too.” Heather pushed stray curls aside and grimaced. “The past one hundred and forty-nine hours have really driven home how everything can go from fine to fucked up with no break in between.”

“You counted?”

“I’ve had a lot of spare time on my hands once it gets dark. You weren’t wrong about that... during our fight last night... I haven’t been sleeping. Like, almost at all.”

Valencia craned to look at Heather, although her view was limited given the angle of their chairs. “Yeah, well, I can’t take too much credit for riddling that one out. The shadows under your eyelids gave it away.”

Heather rolled over and propped her chin on both hands. “I’m surprised you didn’t throw some new concealer at me from one of your swag bags.”

Genuine giggles felt impossible to muster, but they offered each other feeble smiles.

“I really spiraled, didn’t I?” Valencia tucked her lower lip into her mouth.

Heather brushed Valencia’s forearm with her fingertips but did not allow the caress to linger. “We both did. Yours was just on a broader scale.”

“Global.”

Heather inclined her head in recognition. “Even when you’re avoiding your problems, you don’t do anything half-assed.”

“No. That wouldn’t be on-brand.” Valencia’s expression was self-deprecating. 

Heather put a pillow under her face to take the pressure off her palms. She wrapped both arms around the cushion and stared into the middle distance. “I shouldn’t have brought Hector to the hospital,” she declared without preamble. “He was a distraction, like you said. I needed to be there physically but not mentally, and he was the only person removed enough from the situation that I could do that. I was able to talk about something else - anything else - and I couldn’t pass it up because that little waiting room made me so antsy. The thing is, I already wasn’t alone before he tagged along. I had you. But once Hector came to keep me company, you didn’t have me. And that wasn’t fair. Paula was keeping watch; I was checking out, and there you were, dealing with a lot of this by yourself. I should’ve realized that before, but it didn’t register until after everything. I’m sorry.”

Valencia blinked and inhaled deeply. “I’m sorry, too. I took it all too far. The vlogs, the way I’ve been acting around Hector, how I’ve treated you -- everything.” 

Their eyes met. For a moment, the events prior to the crisis hung in the air between them and they paused, motionless. Valencia fought to avoid the memory of their kiss, but she felt the contact as vividly as if it were happening again in the present. 

Heather gulped. Her response was so faint that Valencia read her lips to verify the words. “It’s okay. I forgive you. Do you forgive me?”

Valencia’s eyes burned but she held Heather’s gaze. She nodded as her vision swam.

“Good.” Heather turned to the side, concealing her features from scrutiny.

Their conversation tapered off once more. The night descended in earnest, leaving their surroundings shrouded, and Heather briefly departed to turn on the courtyard lights. When she returned, she pulled the jacket onto her shoulders and rubbed the sleeves.

“It feels weird. This is the first time since it happened that the silence hasn’t made my skin crawl. Living with Rebecca, there’s kinda always a lot of racket, y’know? She’s making a reference, cooking up some scheme, going on a rant, or nagging me to try something new. It never stops. So, when it did, when the house was actually quiet...” Heather shuddered.

“It was a constant reminder that she wasn’t around,” Valencia supplied, “like her absence left a void of white noise and emptiness.”

“Yeah.” Heather jammed both fists into the pockets of her shorts.

Valencia drew her knees up to her torso. “I kept wanting to go outside, thinking it would help me breathe, but for some reason it only pissed me off.”

“Why?”

“I hated that nothing was different. The weather was good. The people passing by were busy with their own business. The planet just kept spinning the same way it always does. For all of them, existence was the same, but for me, everything was a single sentence away from falling apart. It made me want to scream.”

Heather joined Valencia on the second lounger. “I don’t think any of us would’ve blamed you if you had.”

“I was just afraid that, once I started, I wouldn’t be able to stop.” Valencia watched as a few stars winked into visibility beyond the glow from the city. “The only thing I wanted, all this time, was for my life to go back to how it was. But now that our routines are picking up where they left off, and we have to go back to work, I don’t know if anything will ever be truly normal.”

Heather mirrored Valencia’s seated position and draped her elbows over her kneecaps. “I think what we consider ‘normal’ changes with us. There’s not a set standard. I mean, think about the years before Rebecca. Would literally anything that’s happened since have been ‘normal’ to you back then?”

Valencia’s mouth twitched. “Not at all.”

“Exactly.”

They adjusted by degrees until they were angled toward one another, almost facing directly but not quite.

“Heather?”

“Yeah?”

“I really need a hug.” 

Heather glanced up to see Valencia looking so weary and forlorn that she couldn’t help but give her a sympathetic pout. “Fine. The sad Tweety Bird eyes are wearing me down. Scoot over here.”

Valencia gratefully did so, and Heather draped an arm across both her shoulders. Heather’s cheek rested atop Valencia’s hair. Though Valencia attempted to keep her voice steady, fresh tears spilled along her cheekbones. “This friend group... what we have... it’s what matters most to me. I can’t lose that now. I just can’t.”

Heather tightened their embrace while the bridge of Valencia’s nose pressed against her neck. “I know,” she whispered. “Neither can I.”

Valencia succumbed to helpless weeping for the second time that day. The warm droplets fell onto the skin pressed flush with her own. Heather’s breathing became uneven yet she somehow maintained her stoicism. Her knuckles rubbed Valencia’s shoulder blade in absentminded ellipses. 

The curtain over one of the double doors folded away and Paula appeared on the other side of the glass. Heather awkwardly raised her free hand in greeting.

Paula jerked a thumb in the direction of Rebecca’s bedroom then lifted folded hands beside her cheek, pantomiming sleep. Heather nodded in response. She pointed to Valencia and dragged a fingertip down her own jaw to indicate crying. Paula moved her index fingers back and forth in a gesture that clearly said, ‘Should Mama Paula step in?’ Heather subtly shook her head and rested a palm over her chest. ‘I’ve got this.’ Paula gave an encouraging salute. She held her fists at ten and two while mouthing, ‘I’m going home.’ Heather waved. Paula blew them both a kiss even though Valencia wouldn’t see and then departed.

“Is she heading back to her house?” Valencia mumbled.

“Who?”

“Paula.”

“How--”

“I could feel you moving,” Valencia explained. “Also, Rebecca would’ve come outside if she knew Heather hugs were available for a limited time only.”

“She does appreciate a good cuddle,” Heather acknowledged.

“We’ll offer her a rain check for tomorrow since she missed this one.”

“Deal.”

They let the tension leave their muscles while the sounds of distant cars and a neighbor’s muffled music drifted through the night. Valencia leaned away just as Heather looked down at her. She noticed how Heather’s gaze drifted to her lips and found herself similarly distracted. Her pulse quickened and Valencia shivered with fear and longing. Heather’s expression changed in a way that brought about a stomach twist of guilt, a frown-forced-into-a-smile that Valencia had learned to recognize as the instant personal feelings were put on the back burner in favor of sympathy. 

“We should probably go back.” Heather let her arm fall to her side and stood.

Valencia worked to ignore the tingling left behind by Heather’s touch. “Okay.”

They went inside but only took a few steps before their movement stilled again. Heather glanced in the direction of the bedrooms while Valencia reluctantly peered through the darkness at the front door. 

“Does it make me a coward if I really want to put off going to my apartment for one more night?”

Heather hooked her thumbs in her pockets. “Is it pathetic that I’m so tired my vision keeps going out of focus but I don’t think I can sleep in my bed?”

They answered one another in unison: “No.”

Heather walked backward and held up a hand. “Wait here.”

She returned a minute later with two pillows from her room, a sheet, and a quilt. Heather dropped a pillow on the right side of the couch and, after brief hesitation, let the sheet pool beside it. She put the second pillow and quilt on the chaise. 

Valencia accepted the unspoken invitation and stretched along the sofa. “Thank you.”

Heather shrugged. “We can navigate the revised definition of normal tomorrow, right?”

Valencia gave an affirmative nod as she slid under the sheet. “The world can wait just a little longer.”

Heather spread the quilt across her legs and gripped a corner of the cloth in her fist. “Cool.”

Valencia situated herself more comfortably. A familiar blend of outdoor smells rose from the satin case when she nestled against it. She circled her arms around the pillow and relaxed. Valencia crossed the line between waking and dreaming without marked delineation, but her return to full awareness was easy to pinpoint due to its catalyst. 

Heather was stuck in a nightmare.

The sharp gasp roused Valencia first, followed by a nearly imperceptible whine. She twisted to squint through the gloom. Heather’s body twitched and her fingers clenched by her sides. Her face angled into the moonlight, and Valencia thought for a second that she saw moisture glistening on the ends of her eyelashes.

Valencia’s mouth formed her name without sound. ‘Heathe...’

She untangled herself from the sheet and knelt on the floor. Her hands flitted through the air with uncertainty. The simple act of drifting off had been so difficult for Heather lately that Valencia hesitated to wake her, but leaving her tormented by a troubled mind was out of the question. Valencia tucked the quilt more securely around Heather’s restless form, cocooning her, and ran a soothing palm over her furrowed brow.

“Everyone’s all right. Just rest. It’s all right. We’re all here.”

Heather’s features smoothed and her breathing slowed to a steady pattern. Valencia sighed with relief. She waited on the ground a while longer, just to make sure no further distress arose. Heather remained serene, mercifully restful after an exhausting ordeal.

“Why do I get the sense you’d be angry your subconscious made you vulnerable?” Valencia joked in a gentle murmur. She shook her head and returned to her spot on the couch. “Well, for what it’s worth considering you’re too fast asleep to hear this right now, I’ll keep your secret safe.”

[5hfanfiction]

2AM in L.A. - Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Halfway

Camila walked through the open door, pausing in the entryway to take in the unfamiliar sights surrounding her.

“You redecorated?”

“Yeah,” Lauren smiled. “I got bored of everything. Had to switch things up a little bit.”

“It looks nice,” Camila replied, still getting used to the bohemian-style décor that had overtaken the edgy furnishings the room used to hold.

“Can I get you a drink?” Lauren called from the kitchen.

“No, I think I’m done for tonight,” Camila replied, before taking a seat on one of the plush couches. Lauren was calmer than she had been at the club, but her bloodshot eyes didn’t indicate that she was any less intoxicated.

“You’re no fun,” Lauren laughed. “Come on, you’re not driving anywhere else tonight.”

“Fine,” Camila sighed, once again proving that she was powerless to Lauren’s suggestions. “Make me something fruity.”

“Done,” Lauren smiled, emerging from the kitchen with two brightly colored cocktails balanced in hand, a tightly rolled joint smoldering in the other. “Let’s go upstairs, my room has an amazing view from the balcony.”

Camila followed Lauren up the massive spiral staircase and past what felt like hundreds of doorways. With each step they took closer to Lauren’s bedroom, she realized for the second time that night that she really didn’t know what she expected - or wanted. Lauren pushed back a set of dark curtains and slid open a door to a small balcony. Camila couldn’t help but gasp at the stunning view. The Los Angeles skyline was lit up like a million shining stars had all aligned just for them. They sat silently for a few minutes, listening only to the quiet rumble of a city that never seemed to truly rest.

“This is my favorite place to smoke,” Lauren finally said. “I feel like I can just get completely lost up here. Sometimes I’ll just kick it for hours and actually kinda forget the rest of the world exists.”

“Thanks for bringing me up to your special spot, I guess,” Camila answered quietly, though not entirely comfortable with the idea of Lauren wasting hours upon hours being nothing but stoned. A few more minutes wordlessly passed as Lauren finished her drink and joint. Camila had barely touched her own drink, something Lauren took keen notice of.

“I can finish that if you don’t want it,” she laughed, taking the glass from Camila’s hand and downing it. “Cross faded sex is the best sex anyways.”

Before Camila had the chance to respond Lauren was leading the way back into the bedroom, turning down the lights and turning on low background music.

“Do you want to put your bag down or something?”

“Lo, I – ”

“Come on, it’s not like we haven’t done this before,” Lauren winked as she approached Camila and began kissing the small of her neck, slipping her fingers beneath Camila’s bra strap. “Like old times.”

“I just – ” Camila began again, but the words were stolen from her mouth as Lauren delicately traced Camila’s arm with gentle kisses, from the peak of her shoulder to the very tips of her fingers. She began fumbling with Camila’s waistband.

“Lauren, wait.” Camila finally found the words, stopping everything cold in its tracks.

“I don’t want this,” she continued. “I’m sorry, I just – “

“It’s fine,” Lauren snapped. “I get it.”

“I don’t think we’re on the same page about tonight.”

“Fuck the same page,” Lauren retorted under her breath, though not caring if Camila heard. “We aren’t even in the same book.”

“I’m sorry,” Camila answered quietly.

“Don’t apologize,” Lauren sighed. “You haven’t changed a bit, I shouldn’t have expected anything different.”

“But you’ve changed,” Camila replied hesitantly. “You don’t dress the same, you don’t do the same stuff, you don’t act the same, you don’t – ”

“What?” Lauren snapped, getting more and more frustrated with each word Camila uttered. “Or wait. Let me guess. I don’t feel you the same, I don’t give you the same look, I don’t know myself. Some tumblr bullshit that doesn’t mean anything. Face it, Camila. You look for meaning when there’s nothing there, and then get mad when you don’t find it.”

“You don’t need to be cruel.”

“I’m not,” Lauren yelled, the exasperation breaking through her normally relaxed demeanor. “I’m just tired of your shit. If you’re not here to fuck, then go home. That’s all I was looking for tonight and you had to go ruin it with all your damn feelings.”

Without another word, Camila walked back down the hall, down the seemingly never-ending staircase, and sat on the curb for half an hour until what turned out to be the same Uber driver showed up to bring her back home. The door creaked as she pushed it open, waking Ashlee from her slumber on the entryway couch.

“Camila?” she whispered, turning on the lamp beside her and rubbing her eyes. “What happened?”

“Nothing,” Camila shook her head. “Nothing at all.”

“I’m confused. You were so hot for her when you left the party.”

“All she wanted was a hookup,” Camila explained. “We didn’t even talk for more than five minutes.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“It felt like it didn’t matter who I was, I just happened to be the person who showed up at her front door at two in the morning.”

“And you thought that it was going to be a beautiful reconciliation, not a drunk hookup?” Ashlee asked, beginning to put the pieces together.

“It was dumb to think that,” Camila sighed, curling up beside Ashlee on the couch. “I shouldn’t expect her to be someone she’s not.”

“Just get some rest, okay?” Ashlee tucked the blanket around Camila. “Nothing will change between now and the morning, but a good night’s sleep will definitely help.”

Camila awoke later that morning sunlight streaming through the front wondow. She rubbed her eyes open and was greeted by a pounding headache from the alcohol the night before, and a crick in her neck from sleeping awkwardly on the couch. The smell of bacon, eggs and pancakes drifted from the kitchen down the hall, reminding Camila’s grumbling stomach that she hadn’t eaten a proper meal in far too long.

“How soon till breakfast?” she called towards the kitchen.

“Twenty minutes!” Ashlee yelled back. “Go shower, you look and smell like ass!”

“I do not smell – “ Camila began to protest, before catching a whiff of herself. “Oh wow yeah you’re right…I kinda stink. If you need me I’ll be in the shower.”

Camila stood beneath the water, letting the soothing warmth begin to clear her mind. She needed to talk to Lauren, that much was certain. But how, when and what to say were nowhere near as clear. As she stepped out of the shower, she realized that Ashlee had been right. Nothing had changed since last night, and nothing would change unless she was honest. Unless she opened her heart, and told Lauren the truth. She pulled her bathrobe around her shoulders and returned to her bedroom, planning every word she wanted to say. 

“What do you want, Camila?” Lauren sighed.

“Hi, uhm hey. I - Well, I just - “ Camila tripped over her words like a toddler learning to walk.

"Are you drunk?” Lauren asked, a hint of sarcasm in her voice.

“I wanted to talk about last night,” Camila finally stammered.

“There’s nothing to talk about. Literally nothing.”

“You were mad when I left,” Camila said. “That’s something.”

“Not mad, more…frustrated,” Lauren explained. “And maybe it makes me an asshole for being frustrated but it feels like anytime you’re involved things get more complicated than they should be.”

“If I always overcomplicate things, then why did you invite me over?”

“Because I thought for once we were actually on the same page!” Lauren burst out. “It’s been years but your body will always be the one I want the most. Don’t even try to deny that you weren’t teasing me and leading me on at the club. And when you actually showed up? I thought I was in for the best sex of my life.”

“I wasn’t – ”

“No, I’m not done.” Lauren kept going. “I thought for once you were actually going to be spontaneous and physical, but just like always, you took it too far. Feelings don’t belong in a hookup.”

“Maybe I wanted more than a hookup.”

Silence fell across the line for a moment as Lauren took in Camila’s words.

“We’re both going to be in LA for a while recording,” Camila continued. “Maybe a part of me thought we could pick up back where we left off.”

More silence followed.

“Lauren, are you still there?” Camila asked hesitantly.

“Yeah, I’m here,” she answered quietly. “I just don’t see what you mean by ‘where we left off.’ We broke up. That’s it. The end. You can’t pick up from the end, especially not years later.”

“Things never really ended,” Camila declared. “The feelings never really left, you have to admit that.”

“I think those are two different things,” Lauren replied. “Of course there will always be feelings. We were best friends and I loved you, and nothing will ever change how I used to feel. You will always hold that place in my heart, but that’s all in the past. It ended.”

“So last night – ”

“- was just about a hookup,” Lauren finished Camila’s thought. “And I guess I’m sorry if you didn’t understand that but I’m really not looking for a relationship. I don’t want dates and hand holding and all the emotional shit that comes with dating.”

“Emotional shit? That’s all it meant to you?”

“No, Camila, I didn’t mean – ” Lauren now tripping over her own words, suddenly acutely aware to how much she might be hurting the girl on the other end of the phone call. “I didn’t mean that dating you was emotional shit. I just meant that where I’m at right now I don’t want that intense commitment with anyone. It has nothing to do with you personally.”

“So that’s it? Last night was just because I happened to be there and you thought it’d be easy enough to get me naked.”

“No, not at all!” Lauren grew more and more frustrated with each word, feeling so incapable of finding the words to say what she truly meant. “I want every inch of you, but I can’t give you what you need. So if you want to be exes with benefits right now, then hell yes I’m in. But if I’m being honest, last night was just me remembering how stunning you are, and knowing that all I wanted in the world was your body.”

“My body,” Camila repeated, letting the words settle.

“I’m sorry if it sounds bad, I’m just trying to be honest.”

“What if that’s not an option?”

“Huh?”

“What if one or the other isn’t an option?” Camila replied. “You can’t have my body or my heart. I don’t want your halfway love. So is it both, or neither?”

“You’re really asking me to make a decision right now?” Lauren asked, stunned at the sudden ultimatum. “24 hours ago we hadn’t even spoken in years.”

“I can’t wait around praying for you to make up your mind,” Camila answered, choking back the tears she could feel rapidly approaching. “Are you in or out?”

Lauren paused, thoughts racing through her hungover from last night, high from this morning, brain. Camila was right, there would always be something different about them. They had been Camren, for better or for worse, and that would always mean something. But Camren was then, and this was now.

“I’m out. I’m sorry.”

The line clicked dead.

Lauren dropped her phone beside her on the couch, unable to understand how she was supposed to feel. She picked up a lighter from the side table and a fresh joint from the small box beside it. She lit it, as she had so many times before, and inhaled slowly. She held the smoke in her lungs, feeling the sharp tickle as it burned and slowed down her thoughts. It was a familiar ritual, but felt strangely wrong in the moment. Wrong for dulling the pain with drugs rather than allowing herself to truly feel. Wrong for leading Camila on – inadvertent as it may have been – the night before. Wrong for thinking, hoping, believing that the girl whose heart was stronger than anyone else’s could look beyond the heart. Wrong for saying out, when she should have said in.

Camila sat down on the edge of her bed, unable to stand after Lauren’s parting words. Silent tears streamed down her cheeks, blurring her vision as her heart shattered into a million pieces. She knew the ultimatum was a bad idea. She was afraid Lauren would panic. But she didn’t know how coldly Lauren would end it. She wished she could take it back. Back to 2012, when it was all just beginning. Back to 2014, when she felt what it was truly like to fall in love. Back to 2016, when with one too many heartbreaks, she left the group that had started it all. Back to 2:00AM, when the night was young and the future unexplored.