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 in it to win it, anything & everything stella goes here!
stella r. hines
 Posted: Jun 13 2014, 12:52 PM

Read about Stella Raaenne Hines here until I can think up a clever way to summarize her application and write it out in this nice little box.
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Date of birth -- November 17th, 1997
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☉ she drinks vanilla soy milk. she isn't lactose intolerant.
☉ her favorite cereal is cinnamon life.
☉ her favorite breakfast food is french toast.
☉ she uses the 'praise hands' emoji the most.
☉ she's very good at i spy and rock, paper, scissors.
☉ she doesn't like flying.
☉ her best mile time is at an even 7 minutes.
☉ she can do the splits.
☉ the only people who know her middle name are her parents and the staff at baum.
☉ she could eat tollhouse sugar cookies until her teeth fell out.
☉ she may hate stormy weather, but the sound of rain puts her to sleep faster than anything else.
☉ (except for when eddie brooke sings her a lullaby).
☉ all of her long sleeved clothing (jackets, cardigans, sweaters, etc) have holes cut into the sleeves for her thumbs. it drives her mother insane.
☉ she's known to sleep with four blankets during winter time, two of them being electric.
☉ physical affection recharges her in the same way alone time recharges an introvert.
☉ two of her biggest fears are heights and thunderstorms.
☉ she's christian; her parents took her to church every sunday. she stopped going when they moved to nyc.
☉ she's an optimist until she's talking about herself or school, in which cases the glass is half empty.
☉ her hair is naturally blonde. she's taken to making it more platinum throughout her time at baum.
☉ she got her mom's height and hair, her dad's eyes and nose. her personality is similar to her mother's but she gets along better with her father.
☉ her favorite disney movies are mary poppins, hercules, and meet the robinsons.
☉ her favorite disney-pixar movies are brave, up, and the incredibles.
chaotic neutral
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hot air balloon -- owl city
tear in my heart -- twenty one pilots
magic -- b.o.b
all of me -- john legend
1, 2, 3, 4 -- plain white t's
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Title Here --- extra writing
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Title Here --- link to template on caution
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grew up together!stellar
don't meet until college!stellar
jurassic world
break up/make up
personality swap
life as we know it
any au where stellar isn't endgame (aureddie, parkella, etc)
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color: ffa600
user name: estiella
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made by Little One of CAUTION
stella r. hines
 Posted: Jul 2 2015, 05:24 AM

place holder
stella r. hines
 Posted: Jul 17 2015, 06:39 AM

Something was very wrong with Stella Hines.

The lack of confidence was not new. The bouts of anxiety were not new. The feelings of uselessness were not new.

The emptiness was. The silence was. The voice in her head was.

It was telling her over and over how worthless she was. How she wasted everybody's time. How she was obnoxious, annoying, loud. How nobody liked her, not her friends, not her parents, not Eddie.

Eddie was a shining light in all of this but she couldn't find him in the darkness. It was smothering. It was overwhelming and crushing and painful. It wasn't helping that she had pushed herself into a corner of the closet, doors shut, blankets piled on top of her. The darkness might have been smothering and overwhelming because she was hot and having trouble breathing. It was best that way, though. Maybe this way she would melt into a puddle or stop breathing all together.

Maybe I should cry for help.

The headphones in her ears were at full volume and her head hurt. Her mother was just a call away but Stella was too tired to pick up her phone. Her father could take her for ice cream but she wasn't hungry. Nahnie could bring her a flower crown but Stella knew it wouldn't work. Pennie could distract her with crafts but she didn't need another thing to fail at. Eddie could hug her until everything stopped hurting but she wasn't going to bother him.

Maybe I should kill myself.

Would it be that difficult? There were so many easy ways out but she didn't deserve easy. Maybe she didn't need to take it that far. Maybe if she just took what was left of her pain killers, she could sleep for awhile. Maybe things would be better after she woke up. You wouldn't be missed, anyway. That was... true. Jackson had better friends, her parents had each other, Nahnie had Aurora, Eddie had Pennie. The medicine was in the bathroom. The medicine was in her hand.

Her reflection in the mirror was distracting. Her wild blonde hair was pulled into a bun at the top of her head, the circles under her eyes were dark, her skin looked pale. She felt sick. Twisting the cap, Stella poured the remaining pills into her palm. There were five left. What else is in the cabinet? Advil, cough syrup, NyQuil, Midol, Benadryl. Why not a little bit of everything? It'll be a fun experiment, Stella, come on, don't you want to have fun?

The voice seemed so pleased at the suggestion. Stella did want to have fun; she wanted to shake the feeling of despair that had stuck with her since yesterday. Pouring the pills back into the bottle, Stella took the medicines in her hands, and went back to her closet. She left the door open so she could see and laid out the options. You don't even need water, how convenient. I bet washing those painkillers down with NyQuil will be delicious. The voice hadn't been wrong so far.

It tasted disgusting. Take another, maybe it'll get better. It didn't. One more. She felt like she was on auto-pilot. It's an acquired taste. She wondered if the cough syrup would be better. You won't know until you try it out. It wasn't better. Isn't it fun trying new things, Stella? She didn't like this experiment. We haven't even seen the results yet. She didn't think she wanted to. Are you giving up already? Anger struck her white hot and she struggled to understand what was happening.

Stella never gave up and she needed to prove that to the voice. Stella knew this was wrong but she was so close to taking a long nap. Stella should probably have called somebody. They're all busy. They don't have time for you. The painkillers were gone but she couldn't remember moving on to the allergy pills. The NyQuil was empty. She finished the cough syrup with the Midol. Aren't you feeling better already? There was a sharp edge to the question, glee and malice and stabbing.

"Estella, sweetie, hi!"

When had she called her mother? "Mom." Why had she called her mother? Hang up. No, she couldn't, not without raising suspicion. "How are you, honey?" "I... need help." Hang. Up. It was too late. "Help? Honey, what happened? Where are you?" Hysteria broke through the fog she was losing herself in, if only briefly. "My..." Where was she? What had happened? "I'm sorry." You're ruining everything. "No, Estella, don't-- Just. Tell me where you are, sweetie, can you tell me where you are?" She didn't need to know. "School." You're pathetic. "Okay. Okay, is there anybody near by?"

Look what you've done.

She was on the floor but she couldn't remember when she had laid down. How long had it been since her experiment? She was so tired. "Estella?" Her mother's voice, worried and frightened. Estella. The voice, mocking and disappointed. You'll never have any peace now. No, that wasn't fair, that was all she wanted. You're going to wake up in the hospital. You'll be sent to rehab. Your life is over. No, no. Why wasn't her mother talking to her still? "Mom." She's hung up, Stella. She doesn't care. Good riddance. That wasn't true, that couldn't be right. Have I been wrong yet?

It was getting difficult to keep her eyes open. She felt kind of cold. Why was it so hard to breathe?

A steady beeping woke her up. I told you. The beeping rose suddenly and she jumped, rocketing up, eyes wide, every part of her screaming, aching. "Oh, thank God," was all she heard before her vision was obscured by dyed brown locks. Mom. "Honey, sweetheart, oh my god, Estella." Something was squeezing her hand and she looked passed her mother to see her dad there, eyes red and brows furrowed. What had she done? It's what you didn't do that matters.

Her mother pulled back, grabbing Stella's shoulders, looking her in the eyes. Stella had never seen such worry in them. "Honey, why would you do something like that? Are you okay? I'm so sorry, I've been such a terrible parent." Stella didn't know what to say. Her throat felt dry. How many times now had she worn these gowns, slept in these beds? More in the last few months than in her life. Was she trying to get herself killed? If you could call what you attempted 'trying.' You quit before you even finished. Stella couldn't bring herself to make eye contact with the woman that raised her, loved her, cared for her.

She looked down and shrugged out from her mother's grasp, laying back down. "Sweetie?" "Let her rest, Victoria." Her father sounded like he hadn't slept. What had she done? All she wanted was to sleep for however long she needed. Here she was, awake and filled with regret and guilt. Her skin was crawling and she thought she might be sick. Her parents were worried. Did her friends know? She'd never be able to face them if they did. Coward. Her dad still held her hand and she wanted to take it from him, turn on her side away from them both, and hope they would realize that they would be better off without her.

The next thing to wake her was whispering. You don't want to know who it is. They weren't very good at being quiet. Don't open your eyes. She needed to tell them to stop. You'll regret it. She knew those voices. Panic swept through her and she heard her heart monitor rise but she ignored it, feigning sleep. "Stella?" No, no, no. Ignore him. "Is she okay?" "She tried to kill herself, what do you fucking think?" "Nahnie." Silence fell heavy and Stella thought she might suffocate in it. "Stella," he said again. He knew; he knew what she had done and he knew she was awake.

Don't do it. The voice was right most of the time but she couldn't put this off. She knew it was his hand holding hers and she squeezed. She felt the relief roll off of him in waves. She turned her head to look at him and only him, and opened her eyes. Eddie seemed brighter than usual and she wondered where he had been when she needed him most. She opened her mouth to try and speak but he cut her off, "don't you dare apologize." Pennie was crying. Stella felt small. How could she do this to them? Send them away.

y'know i'm ending it here because it feels wrong to write for any other characters. i'm pretty sure this should be canon but i'm not sure yet. i'm gonna crawl under a rock now.

tw: suicide attempt
stella r. hines
 Posted: Nov 5 2015, 03:13 AM

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry—”

Stella wakes up, screaming.

A hand flies to her throat as she closes her mouth. Everything hurts and she’s broken out into a cold sweat. She can’t breathe. She tries to throw the covers off but her legs are tangled in the sheets and she panics for a moment, already short breaths turning into ragged whines. She finally frees herself but the moment her feet touch the floor, her knees buckle, and she falls, landing hard on the cold wood. Tears stream down her cheeks, hot and stinging, and she crawls to the light switch, away from the bed, as quickly as she can.

Stella struggles to stand but she uses the doorknob to pull herself up and the room brightens. She looks around and everything is blurred. She rubs at her eyes, sinking back to the floor, back against the wall. Her breathing levels out and her racing heart slows. She blinks rapidly but every moment her eyes close brings back flashes of the nightmare and she stifles a sob. “I’m sorry,” she says to the still air around her. Every part of her is freezing save for the flush in her cheeks.

Stella makes herself stand again, using the wall as a support, and makes her way to the kitchen. Here, she turns on another light and the one above the stove as well. She fills the kettle with water and turns the burner on. She focuses on the boxes of tea and settles on something with lavender and vanilla in it. She makes the mistake of closing her eyes and her pulse picks up and she grips the counter, knuckles turning white. She tries not to blink, reorganizing the boxes of tea Aurora has given her over the course of their friendship.

The kettle starts to whistle and she doesn’t realize until the noise is in every corner of her mind. She turns the fire off finally and makes a cup in the largest mug she owns. She puts a blanket in the dryer and waits by it, watching the steam swirl out of her drink. She takes the warm cover and settles in the window seat, knees drawn to her chest, mug held tightly between her hands. Can you come over? She sends the text, not expecting an answer, since it’s half past two in the morning.

Stella doesn’t realize he is sitting across from her until he clears his throat. She blinks and looks at him. He seems out of focus for long enough that she starts to worry but her eyes finally settle on his and she forces a smile. She plans to thank him but she somehow says instead, “I’m sorry.” His brows knit together in confusion but she knows she can never explain to him why. She can never tell him of the terror that woke her so violently. “Why would you be—?” She shakes her head and takes one of his hands in hers.

“Just stay with me. Please?” He nods without hesitation and squeezes her hand, rubbing circles with his thumb. She almost cries but crying means closing her eyes and she can’t do that. They sit in silence and she sips at her tea, staring out the window. She doesn’t realize until now that it’s raining. She wants to run in it, drown in it, twirl in it. Her mug is empty and she looks at him again. “Outside.” It’s all she says and she pulls him up with her, setting the mug on the dresser. “Stella—” “Please.”

Stella doesn’t see him frown but she knows he does. She just leads them through the hall, down the stairs, and out the door. She drops his hand and leaves him under the cover of the awning. The rain is cold and harsh but it immediately shakes her from her stupor. It doesn’t take long for her clothes to stick to her skin, for her hair to fall in her face, for her shoulders to start shaking. He seems to notice and when he joins her and pulls her into his arms, she apologizes again. “Stop.”

For being the cooler one between them, his body heat seeps into her. The tears this time feel like ice and her hands hold onto his button down in tight fists. The images don’t flash against her eyelids this time and she tries to take solace in it. In what is a confusingly fluid moment, he lifts her up and carries her back inside. She wraps her legs around him, her arms around his neck, and hides her face in his shoulder. She doesn’t know how they get back to the second floor but they’re back at her place before she realizes it.

Somehow, she’s sitting in the bathroom, and he’s running the hot water. “Stella,” he prompts and she nods, feeling numb. He stands in the doorway, facing away from her, and she strips out of her wet clothes. She hesitates for only a moment, wondering how she can ask him to join her, but feeling ashamed for even thinking it. When he hears the shower curtain close, she knows he takes her pajamas, and closes the door behind him. She stands still underneath the spray; it burns, it feels like needles, it wakes her up.

By the time there is a knock on the door, the water has begun to run cold. She turns it off and steps out, wrapping herself in a towel. She opens the door for him and he holds up new pajamas that she can tell have just come out of the dryer. She changes and leaves the towel on the floor. Before he can pick up after her, like she knows he’s going to, she takes his hand again, and pulls him down onto the bed with her. She sits with her knees pulled to her chest and he stays with his legs crossed and they face each other.

“Are you okay?” “I don’t know.” “Are you going to be?” “Maybe.” Stella shrugged. “Someday. I hope.” He holds her hand and moves closer. “Will you tell me what happened?” Stella looks away from him, “the nightmares.” It’s barely a whisper but she knows he hears her because his grip tightens. Stella pulls her hand back and crosses her arms over her chest. “Stella,” “Don’t.” She sounds crueler than she means to be. “You need to talk to someone.” “I’m talking to you, aren’t I?” “Someone who can help you.”

When she turns her gaze on him, her eyes are narrowed. “You are helping me.” The smile he gives her is sad and he shakes his head. “We both know that isn’t true.” Her anger crumbles and reality brings her crashing down. “Please don’t leave,” her voice breaks, “please, stay with me, I can’t do this—” “Stella, listen to me,” she can’t hear him over the sound of everything falling to pieces around her. “Stella, you’re stronger than this,” she pulls him towards her and he holds her face in his hands. His touch sends shivers down her spine.

“It’s my fault—” He stops her with a quick kiss to the mouth. “It isn’t. It never was and it never will be.” “Please don’t go.” The room around her fades, everything is distorted, and he becomes the only thing she can trust to be real. Deep down, she knows even that isn’t true. “Please talk to someone.” “Don’t leave me—” He presses his lips this time to her forehead and she closes her eyes, praying that when she opens them, he’ll still be there, she won’t be alone, all of this will be—

Sunlight streams through the blinds. The clock reads exactly nine in the morning. Stella sits up. It’s a year to the day.

idk what this is #notcanon
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