so it goes.

i exist. it’s sweet, so sweet, so slow. and light: you’d think it floated all by itself. it stirs.

[stephaniexstclair]

“Oh crap,” Stephanie exclaimed, quickly pulling away from--what his name again?--and stepping aside when the person appeared by them. 

[wordsnquotes]

I am not a person to say the words out loud I think them strongly, or let them hunger from the page: know it from there, from my silence, from somewhere other than my tongue the quiet love the silent rage.

Keri Hulme, Against the Small Evil Voices (via wordsnquotes)

[rpmememaker]

Sentence meme (Torture my character version)

Make them cry

"I never loved you."

"You’re the reason they’re dead!"

"It’s all your fault!"

"Who could ever love you…?"

"You’re so stupid. So weak."

"Just go away. I don’t want you here."

Blackmail them

"Who would’ve thought a sweet thing like you would have such a secret?"

"I’ll tell everyone. Scream so loud the country will hear."

"I have a friend with a radio station, you know. Broadcast it all over the city."

"If you want this back, you’ll do whatever I say!"

"Be a good little slave, you don’t want your secret out, do you?"

"I know everything. I can ruin you."

"Beg me, and I might consider keeping my mouth shut."

Interrogate them

"Sing, birdie."

"I know exactly how to make you talk."

"You know some fascinating things, don’t you?"

"I’ll use your greatest weaknesses against you, and you know I know them all."

"I have means of extracting information from you."

"I might play with you a little longer after you’ve talked. You’re too cute."

"You’re tough. But I’ll break you."

Yell at them

"You idiot! You dumbass! You- you fucking moron!"

"You’re absolutely useless, aren’t you?!"

"What the fuck have you done this time!"

"You don’t care about anyone but yourself!"

"You’re not human! You’re a monster!"

"You’re a disgusting little rat!"

"You’ve fucked up for the last time!"

Physically hurt them

"What, can’t take a punch?"

"I’ll kill you!"

"It’s only a scratch, asshole!"

"Don’t move, or I’ll shoot you!"

"I’ll slit your damn throat!"

"Kiss my shoes or I’ll stomp your head in half."

"I didn’t mean to draw blood, but oh well."

"That’s going to bruise."

Torture them… gently

"You want some of this cake? C’moooon, beg for it!"

"Guess what? SURPRISE ICE BUCKET CHALLENGE!"

"Tickle-tickle-tickle! Kitchy kitchy koo!"

"Whaaaat? Is this yours? You can’t have it back, it’s mine now!"

"I’ll stop singing when hell freezes over!"

"Get in the locker, shorty!"

"Annoying? Me? Annoying?"

[stephaniexstclair]

(phone rings)

Stephanie: Three-hundred.

Paul: Seventy-five, but you were close.

Stephanie: When are you ever going to explain to me the importance of attempting to guess the number in your head every time I answer the phone?

Paul: When it stops being fun.

Stephanie: How's Momma?

Paul: Blonder. How's the city?

Stephanie: It's fine.

Paul: Okay... Then how are you? Your phone call the other night worried me.

Stephanie: I was drunk, you shouldn't have paid attention to it.

Paul: Steph. You had a panic attack. You haven't had one in years. What happened?

Stephanie: I'm not good at this, Paul.

Paul: Clarify.

Stephanie: The whole friends thing. Never have been, never will be. And this time, I got fucked over. Both literally and metaphorically.

Paul: You had a fight with a friend; so what. You apologize and move on.

Stephanie: I shouldn't have to. The bastard should. On top of that, I got stuck in an elevator with one of Manhattan's top assholes. I think he might win the Nobel for it.

Paul: If he was an asshole, he wouldn't have managed to calm you down. To comfort you.

Stephanie: He's an asshole.

Paul: He brought you down from your attack.

(silence)

Paul: When will you let me visit you?

Stephanie: I have to go.

Paul: Stephanie, what the hell is going on. You can't keep running every time one of asks to visit or asks about your life there. It's like you're afraid we're not going to like what we see

Stephanie: (silence) You won't.

Paul: Steph--

Stephanie: Talk to you next week.

(call ends)

[stephaniexstclair]

headcanon 001. 

Stephanie is almost always chewing on a pen when she’s writing. It’s easier to tell just how far into her own mind she is because of how much she chews on the pen cap. When she’s really deep in thought, she may even chew straight through to the pen itself and spill ink on her lips. It’s a nervous habit that she hasn’t been able to get rid of and, frankly, doesn’t want to.

[padacklicious-blog]

[lillian-eom]

She gave a nod in understanding about the news. Whatever it was, she was sure it would be great. Though she didn’t know Stephanie that well, she liked the girl and had immense support for her already. Lillian shrugged slightly at the girls question, “It was pretty dull really. Made a fool of myself in front of a guy I like. Got put in my place by an asshole, and spent the night trying to explain technology to my boss. All in all, a dull night.” she said. “What about you? Get any old governors numbers?” she teased.

[stephaniexstclair]

Well, well, well... That certainly piqued her interest. Perhaps it was juvenile, but in all honesty, Stephanie hadn't had a pure girl-esque conversation in a while. Even if it was just about boys. "A boy you like?" Stephanie all but squealed, eyes widened as she leaned in closer for the secret. "Oh, Lily, you must tell. Come on! If not, that's like dangling the chicken in front of the alligator and expecting it to just float around the swamp the entire time!"

[donovanmendoza]

Well, she was right about that — Donovan didn’t care, although it wasn’t because he thought himself above her or anything or that he was a Grant but more so because his sphere of genuine concern was restricted to immediate family. Everyone else was simply treated with apathy. 

Not that she needed to know that. And, anyway, she continued to speak to him, anyway. He shrugged as he said, “You don’t need to try and sound smart. That sounds like any other conversation I’d have around here, anyway, so there’s really no difference.” 

[stephaniexstclair]

"I don't try," Her words hung in the air, poised and steeled, ready to take whatever he was ready to bring. After a few moments of silence, Stephanie stood to her feet and began to pack up her belongings. It was going to rain... She could feel it. And white blouses when wet weren't always the best combination. What with the weather beginning to warm up, she hadn't brought a jacket. "You'd do well to remember that." Slinging her messenger bag over her shoulder, laptop, journals, and everything else packed neatly away, she shot the stranger a saccharine smile before heading to the door.

[loganbillings-deactivated201506]

Of course Logan could had easily gotten up and left the cafe because he honestly didn’t know what he was doing. He only went to the cafe for a glass of water and a moment of peace— he rarely went to cafes. Yet, here he was— at a cafe… with a fair-haired beauty who wouldn’t tell him her name. He respected her choice… in fact, he was quite impressed by it because he really didn’t mind working for it. He immediately sensed a sliver of hostility in her response and leaned towards her, trying to hide his devious smile. He was always ready for fun— and he would never miss his opportunity to cause trouble and wreak havoc. “I already have nothing of you,” Logan whispered, “And I don’t think I ever will… have something of you.” He paused for a moment and looked down before he fixated his gaze on her. “You know who I am.”

[stephaniexstclair]

There was one thing that Stephanie hated, she realized, in that moment. Out of them all--Ashton, Alexandra, Emery, the lot of them--Logan was the only one she knew absolutely nothing about. So quiet, so secretive; he never really spoke much, a man of minimal words, and perhaps that's why she remained interested. Unlike the others, she actually had to do some digging here. Learn something. Obtain it and bend it to her will. As he leaned forward, Stephanie leaned back, one arm hanging over the back of her chair, legs crossed, and a tendrils of blonde waves framing her face. She was radiating sunshine, didn't she know? "You can have anything if you want it enough. Unless you don't have the courage to take it." His next statement drew out a genuine laugh from Stephanie, her lips pulling up into a grin before a scoff rolled over her lips. "If that's what you'd like to believe, then go for it. As far as I'm concerned, the only thing I know is that you're a man in a coffee shop who lacks what many like to call empathy." 

[cirquedescliquesrpg]

"Play," the man demanded as he angrily jammed his finger on the button for the nth time. "God dammit, why won’t it fucking do what I say?" He could get man, woman, and beast to bend to his will but when it came to technology Theodore was hopelessly lost.

[stephaniexstclair]

"Perhaps it's because you keep hitting the pause button," Stephanie commented, a smirk on her lips, as she appeared beside him as if from a puff of lavender smoke.

[itscameronlust-deactivated20150]

A burst of giggles left his lips in sighs. He was losing his mind. “Fine, Stephanie, just keep touching it.” Another giggle, another wince. There would be worse ways to go, lying in some alley being prodded by an unfortunately pretty girl. The fact that he could still laugh meant things weren’t so bad. Sure, it hurt like hell and brought bitter irony to the phrase “laughter is the best medicine”, but it was a good sign. Coughing through another chuckle, Cameron lifted his eyes to hers and attempted to shrug. “I’d tell you why, but it’s… not worth it…” 

Then she was squeezing his side and the air left his mouth in torrents. Moisture pricked behind his closed eyes and Cameron pushed himself further to the wall. “Who could sleep… when you’re squeezing their liver?! Jesus. Stop that." Vaguely, he noted the growing headache at the center of his forehead, the telltale sign of an oncoming hangover. At least he was no longer drunk; another positive to bleeding on the ground. Less blood meant lower blood alcohol level. But it also meant the pounding in his head came equipped on a roller coaster ride. If he weren’t sober, he’d swear the world was dancing. As it were, Cameron forced his eyes open because she was right. He couldn’t afford to sleep right now. Not when his savior was coming up with dead ends and flightless solutions. 

"Stephanie!" He whispered fiercely. One of them had to pull in the reins here. And if it wouldn’t be his "knight" in shining armor, it’d have to be him. "Stephanie, if I die, you’re gonna have to leave me. Please, we can’t just stay here and…” He paused through a bout of pain, “Wait for a miracle. Okay? I need… You to go call… I need you to call my father.”

[stephaniexstclair]

And there he went--laughing on, coughing from the pain, and giggling with a light blazing in his eyes that she had never seen with him before. He could tell her, but it wouldn't be worth it? What was the point in that anyway? She was crouching beside him utterly terrified, and he still lay there on the ground laughing as if she had just told him the funniest joke in the entire universe. Yes, her opinion had been solidified in that moment: Cameron Lusk was by far the strangest and most abhorrent man she had ever met; he was irritating and nauseating and she didn't want to have anything to do with him. ...After this, of course. Stephanie wouldn't be able to live with herself if he died with his blood on her hands. The irony of this entire situation wasn't lost on the girl, but she was trying her best to push it from her mind, instead focusing on the face of the man before her. 

With the roll of her eyes, Stephanie didn't bother to acknowledge Cameron's comment, but she did loosen the pressure that she was placing on him, trying her best to get her thoughts in order. Don't be so useless, Stephanie, appeared a voice in her head. What did you do? Stumble upon him just so that you could sit there while he died? He already thinks of you as scum anyway, but that doesn't mean he deserves to die. Fucking. Do. Something. Clenching her jaw, Stephanie straightened up and lifted her hands from his abdomen. He was right. They couldn't wait for a miracle. She had to something--call someone--but she wasn't going to let him bleed out in the process. In a few swift movements, Stephanie shrugged off her jacket from her shoulders, freezing air hitting her bare flesh, and then crawled on top of him. Once she was straddling his figure, Stephanie did her best to pull her jacket around him, lifting his body carefully to get the jacket behind his back, so that she could tie it around his wound. Her fingers weren't shaking anymore. Her mind wasn't flooding with thoughts and worriments. She couldn't feel the below-freezing temperature on her skin. She couldn't feel her heart hammering in her chest. As she tightened the knot in her makeshift gauze, she crawled off of him and got to her feet. 

"I swear to hell on Earth, Cameron, if you die, I'll bring you back to life and I'll kill you with my own two hands," she warned, reaching into the back pocket of her jeans to grab some change. "I'm going to go call the police--ambulance--whatever--tell them to call your father. I'll be right back." And before she could second guess her plan to leave him, she turned and ran toward the mouth of the alleyway, eyes set on the pay phone up ahead. Minutes later, quarters paid, Stephanie dialed for the police and prayed to God that everything would be fine.

[fares-are-for-tourists]

"It’s quite lovely. Very scenic and peaceful for the most part. Though you do have your suburban house wives with too much money and time on their hands. But it’s not so bad. There’s a few good skiing resorts there as well." Roslyn also saw the crowd of teenagers as they came in. She laughed a bit to herself. They all looked like they were enjoying their day, a lot more carefree than she felt now a days. "Seems like those kids are having a lot of fun." Ros twirled her hair around her finger absentmindedly. "I will have to definitely keep that in mind when summer rolls around. You will definitely save me a lot of salon visits." Roslyn cheered and clapped her hands together. "Great! You definitely need a break. Even if you don’t think so. You’ll feel better after that. What do you want?"

[stephaniexstclair]

"That sounds a lot like Bartlett," Stephanie joked, feeling her mood slowly begin to lighten as her conversation with Roslyn deepened. "Minus the ski resorts, of course. There really isn't much snow in Tennessee to go skiing." For a moment, the blonde wondered what it was even like to go skiing. How badly would she do? She wasn't an athlete, but she did have substantial balance... For the most part. Pulled out of her thoughts, Stephanie allowed the end of Roslyn's statement to wash over her. "A burger," she said suddenly, not even realizing she had been craving a nice, juicy burger with a thick milkshake until that moment. "Oh, what do you say, Ros? We hope on the subway--take the D-Train, I think--and go to the Shake Shack. It's on 8th Avenue, but it'll be worth it despite the trek."

[loganbillings-deactivated201506]

Deduction. He raised his eyebrows at her as he rested his arm on the table. Sarcasm was evident in her voice and he (kind of) appreciated it, trying to contain his smirk. He was never a fan of small talk, but— at the moment— he didn’t mind it. He opened his mouth and then he closed it because he really don’t know what to say. She was undeniably eloquent. Of course Logan didn’t need eloquence to get by— to survive. His fingers stroked his cloudy glass of water as he processed her words. Lines of clarity immediately appeared. “The city offers tours. I’m sure you’ll have a better experience.” He shook his head as he grinned. What a bold statement. “Don’t worry, sweetheart, I don’t want to get into your pants.” She wasn’t wrong— Logan was definitely intrigued. His eyes met hers and he returned her smirk. “May I have your name?” He disregarded her question because he honestly didn’t know what he wanted, so he decided he would wait for her answer— her move.

[stephaniexstclair]

Coffee forgotten, computer hidden, and mind alert, Stephanie found all her attention focusing straight towards the fellow blond in front of her. Imagine how all this might have looked: Stephanie sitting with yet another Billings in a coffee shop, the two leaning in close and talking amongst themselves like a pair of lovers sharing the secrets of their endeavors in the frightening world; a pair of friends spilling words off their loose tongues and flapping lips in an attempt to win the prize as the biggest gossip leech; close and intimate. The Upper East Side would have a fit. And then there was that word--sweetheart--and Stephanie felt her jaw clench. How poisoned that word was... Sweetheart. She was not sweet, nor did she have a heart; when would they learn? "If you call me sweetheart again, you may have nothing of me," Stephanie responded coarsely, her blue eyes brimming with a burning light. 

[wyattgibson]

Diego shook his head, “Don’t even worry about it. They’re ruined from the snow, anyway.” He gave her a reassuring smile, moving out of the way as a staff member began to mop up the mess. Diego would’ve given the poor guy some help if his hands weren’t full, so instead he just stood back and thanked him before the male shuffled off again. “You’re Stephanie, right?” he asked, taking a sip of his coffee.

[stephaniexstclair]

Thank God, because I don't think I could afford new shoes of that stature, Stephanie thought to herself for a quick moment. Of course, she most definitely could--just grab a little money from the Daddy fund and she'd be good to go--but she had heard enough shit about money from her parents to use anything other than her own. When he spoke her name, Stephanie felt surprised--a feeling that most could not get out of the girl--and her eyes suddenly brightened. "Yes, I am," she responded, trying to figure out if she had told him during their last encounter. She didn't think she did. "And who's asking?" 

[lillian-eom]

"True. Tomorrow it might be a heart attack, who knows?" she shrugged idly, taking a sip of her own coffee. "That’s a good way to see it." she commended with a smile. She didn’t want to pry into the girls work so she kept her attention away from the computer and focused on Stephanie. "Oh? Should I be worried then?"

[stephaniexstclair]

Mustering a small smile, Stephanie attempted to put herself in a better mood. The past week had beaten her down and though she was adamant on returning to her feet, she couldn't shake the feeling that something may be broken. Oh, the metaphors. "No, nothing to be worried about," Stephanie chuckled, twirling her pen like a mini baton between her fingers. "It's just news... Anyway, how was the ball, Lillian? After we got separated I couldn't seem to find you again."

[lillian-eom]

Lillian chuckled a bit as she nodded, “That’s probably how I’ll go. Caffeine overdose.” she noted jokingly. She leaned back against her seat, “Oh, I’m sure it’s not that bad.” she assured the girl. “No worse than most of the stuff I read in the tabloids.” Lillian added with another joking tone.

[stephaniexstclair]

"I believe it's the best way to go. Although, you could catch me on another day and I'd say something entirely different. As long as I get my piece of mind out there, I don't really care," Stephanie commented, murmuring the last bit to herself; a signature on her own personal declaration of independence. "I won't spare you the gory details," Stephanie continued, smiling a little. "But I can agree with you on one thing: the tabloid's have nothing on this."

[itscameronlust-deactivated20150]

The Inevitable Trait ↺ Cameron and Stephanie

[itscameronlust-deactivated20150]

When he realized she was at least in control of her breathing, Cameron removed his hand from her back. Once again, the desperate need to separate himself reared its ugly head. Whether she was perfectly fine— or as fine as she was originally— was no longer his responsibility. Straight faced and silent, he rose from the ground and crossed the small space between them. The walls were no longer so close. For her, anyway. The only constriction he felt was the obligation to save her from hell. Now that she’d officially crawled her way from the depths of her own mind, he could go back to his own. 

The scars on his knuckles told more stories than his mouth ever could. Stories about drunken brawls, bar fights, and property destruction lie on his fingers. Glancing down, he flexed the muscles in his hand, silently reminiscing on the havoc he’d caused. Hands that did so much good, yet destroyed everything they touched. Like fire, his hands were full of life and calamity. Not that he would share this with the woman still on the floor across from him. “I’m always angry. It doesn’t go away. I just hide it better.” 

Only when there was alcohol in his system did the ugly beast that was his temper flare. That was when he became the life of the party. Whether it be because he was causing an irreparable scene or flirting with everything on legs, made no difference. His anger made him relatable. No one ever cared when he was quiet. No one wanted the serious, sarcastic and silent Cameron. They only cared when he was a menace to society. “If it’s not a woman, I’ve probably punched it.” Violence was the only thing that made him feel better. Expending energy and rage, action was the best way he could get rid of everything inside him and move on. In one swift motion, he felt better— maybe a little more sore— and went about his business. That never meant he was completely over what happened, but at least his mind was more clear. 

Switching the subject, Cameron checked his watch. “That took a pretty good chunk of time out of our wait. If you want to call them and let them know… What just happened to you, that would be fine. They’ll probably want to check your vitals, make sure everything is stable.” Running a ragged hand in his hair, Cameron sat in the corner diagonal to her. His head rested on the same wall he’d punched only moments before. “But I’m not a doctor. I don’t know how to fix wounds.”

[stephaniexstclair]

I'm always angry. It doesn't go away. I just hide it better. Her heart gave a little as those words reverberated around the small box, Stephanie suddenly feeling so far away from him when he crossed to the other side of the elevator. There was only about three feet or so between them now, but it felt like three miles. He was always angry; he had a damn good way of hiding it, that was for sure. Given, he was usually irritated around Stephanie--a special effect she had on people--but she couldn't quell her curiosity. He had given her a little treat and now she just wanted more. Who was he? Who were his parents and where did he grow up? How many scars decorated his skin like constellations of his past? What was the cause of his behavior? More importantly: was he entitled or was he entrapped? 

He wasn't someone worth knowing. Not yet. It was why Cameron Lusk had never appeared in her research and in her search for the supreme assholes of the land. Perhaps that was a plus in her book, but there was far more behind his alluring exterior. ...Confused? No, she was not attracted him. But she wasn't one to deny the man of his intrigue. She wasn't one to deny her right to curiosity and find herself falling into the being that was Cameron Lusk. There was more to his mind, to the scars on his knuckles, and to the clench in his jaw. More to his petty insults and horrid personality; more to the asshole drenched in alcohol. She hated to admit that, but Stephanie knew more than her hatred. He could be another pair of eyes; another mouth to whisper the sweet nothings of the Upper East Side into her ear. Or so she'd keep telling herself. 

In all honesty, she had no idea what to say. She had kicked off her shoes by this point--though she couldn't remember when--but still she stumbled to her feet, feeling so small compared to him without her five-inch heels to give her height. Walking towards the red emergency phone, knowing it was the best thing to do, she lifted it off the receiver and pressed it to her ear. Yet, when the operator answered, Stephanie remained silent, staring at the panel of buttons. She held her breath, closed her eyes, and wondered what to say. If she should say something and get them out of here sooner--or see what would unfold if she kept Cameron in the hotbox a little bit longer. 

After a couple more seconds, Stephanie clicked the phone back down on the receiver, swallowing her pride. "There wasn't anyone on the other end," Stephanie said, voice holding no lilt of dishonesty. "I think they've gone." She turned to face him, craning her neck up just a little bit so she could actually look him in the eyes. Boy, he was tall. The next question fell softly from her lips, gentle and quiet as she attempted to gauge how far she was going to be able to go. So she asked, tucking a strand of hair nervously behind her ear, "How many are there?" How many scars? How many fights? How much anger? Talk to me, Cameron, she begged in her mind, skin itching to no more. What was his story?