#stellesse

but I'd read a Stellesse fic with inspo from the song "Divine CEO" by LuLuYam, titled "The ladies love a gal in charge" in a heart beat

Like, no joke, if I knew how to write, I'd write it myself-

Jesse: Oh, really?

Stella: Yes, here, I'll kiss it off.

Jesse: ?!

Stella: Oh, there's some more now...

Stella: Oh dear, left some more, let me get that...

Jesse: Stella literally you could have ASKED.

 It's understandable; Stella doesn't even live in the same city, and she has her... well, quirks, to say the least. 

 It's hard to get past her arrogance. She thinks she can't do anything wrong (and when she does, she refuses to admit it) and she thinks she's all that and a bag of chips. Almost puts herself higher than Jesse. 

 ("Stella, this is not rocket science. You offended that guy. Ya gotta apologize."

"Well, he was rude to me first." 

 "He bumped into you on accident." 

 "Still." Stella crosses her arms almost petulantly, daring Jesse to say anything. And they should. They should scold her like she’s a child until she snaps something out and storms away and lets her tea go cold.

 Instead, the bite their tongue and slowly let their head thud onto the table. "I'm going to rip all my hair out...") 

 But she does seem to slowly realize that it's not all about her, and slowly shift aside on the stage to let others take the spotlight from time to time.

(And sometimes she shares it with Jesse.)

It's hard to get past her putting everyone down. Her stealing people's items and forcing them to work for her, snubbing them so that they just make Champion City even better to try to be champions themselves, manipulating people like she's a spider and they're all caught in her web. 

 ("Don't." 

 "What?" 

 "You're going to twist everything I just said to make it sound like you're the victim. I'm sick of it. Do you just manipulate everyone?"   Do you just manipulate the people that love you until you tangle it up in the web you weave and strangle it until it turns into something else entirely? are the words that go unsaid on Jesse’s tongue.

"... well--" 

 "No. If you're going to try to sound like the victim, try it with someone who cares." 

 This visit ends sourly, with Jesse slamming the door shut behind them and Stella emptily watching it swing back and forth until the door has long stopped swinging and the sky is painted with hues of pink and purple and their tea has gone icy cold.) 

 But she does eventually release the strings, and slowly-- when it comes to things she doesn't care about-- she begins to let the items wander back to their rightful owners. 

(It might help that Jesse scolds her about it.) 

 It's VERY hard to get past insults that make Jesse feel like they're talking to Aiden again, back when they were seventeen and still had Reuben meandering around their feet. 

 Stella doesn't stop insulting them for a long while, doesn't stop shooting little jabs that are like pokes to the side at best and like knives in their heart at worst. But Jesse is patient with her-- 

 ("You can't just say stuff like that, Stella." 

 "Why not?" 

 "Because anyone else would probably have decked you at this point." 

 "And you haven't?" 

No, because I happen to like you a tiny bit, but others might not grant you that courtesy, Jesse wants to reply, but they swallow it.

 "I would prefer not to break your pretty face." 

 "You think I'm pretty? Oh, thank you, sweetie.") 

 -- and eventually the knives turn to pokes and the pokes turn to teasing fun that they both insult each other cheerfully and with free rein. 

 ("You're the ugliest lady alive." 

 "Oh? Well, then, you must be a fool for being with me.")

It's hard not to hate her for all of her annoying, awful, conniving, manipulative traits that make Stella feel like a snotty cheerleader from a high school movie (and make Jesse want to go bald from ripping out all of their hair). 

 But, Jesse concludes their mental essay as Stella rests her head on theirs in a slow but definite motion of affection and pulls them closer so they're resting against her, people do change. 

 "You're really not good at this, sweetie, you're supposed to actually engage in the cuddling." 

 "I am not the cuddler. I'm the cuddlee. You give me the cuddles." 

 "Well I wasn't informed of this, so you have to engage." 

 "Alright, fine, Miss Bossy." 

Stella: Make sure you put down the toilet seat.

Jesse: Yes, dear.

Ivor: Is that a bit you two do now?

Jesse: Yep! We're pretending to be you and Mom.

Ivor: Wha--?!

Ivor: We don't do that!

Ivor: Harper, tell them we don't do that!