#please come over you clearly need a hug and a fresh omelette

[bestgirl-daisy]

a canadian cow? You’re so fucking fake

eXCUSE ME!!!!

I'm from Calgary, Alberta 😡😡😡 home of COWboys and everything that is cute and pure and homoerotic in this country!!!! There are rodeos all over!!!! people ride bulls all around!!! we even tried to change the national flag for chintits instead of the cute devil's lettuce leaf but i guess Vancouver had more votes in this 🙄🙄😑😑

Not even my moo moos are fake!!! I was just born with these huge mommy milkers and YOU KNOW WHAT MR ANON SIR!!!!! MY GUY!!! MY LITTLE GUY!!!!! you are just envy 😡😜

i dont like fighting so i'm sorry if i hurt you but i had to say it!!! 🥺

[erensproudsimp]

Chef D'œuvre

Jean kirstein x Reader

⚠ Sexual Content Ahead ⚠

Content Warnings:Fluff, Sex on a canvas, established relationship, teasing Jean hehe, dirty talk, ultimate smut + this isn't proofread

Summary: Restraining Jean from touching you the whole day, a candle light dinner in the evening leading to sex on a canvas? The idea of Jean as an artist is just so hot.

Word count:4.1k

Fanart is by artworkbyzuli on insta

Cross-posted on ao3

Colorful tainted tiles, the smell of fresh paint hovering in the air, early hours of sunshine filtering from the beige curtains to fall on his face highlighting his features as his eyes concentrated on the canvas. Blanc frames waiting to be hued with a meaning or not. Teeth clenching, his jawline apparent, he looked like a Greek God, his brush being his weapon, almost out of this world. Shirt glued on his body like a second skin layer bringing out his honed muscled body, Jean truly was a work of art spreading his magnificence on cloth and paper. Standing by the door frame in his shirt two times bigger than your figure, you admired your boyfriend, his back facing you, drowned in his own world of aesthetic in his studio.

Tiptoeing to him, you wrapped your arms around his torso, your cheek pressed on his back catching him off-guard. You took a quick whiff of him. Sandalwood with a faint citrus.

"Woah there, good morning baby, did you have a good night sleep?" Jean's hoarse voice almost made your legs lose their balance. His free hand caressing your arms, you hummed as a simple yes still intoxicated by his scent.

"I'm going to go prepare breakfast, I'll call for you when I'm done." Jean gave you a quick forehead kiss before you left the room.

Cracking some eggs in the pan, you connected your phone to the speaker in the house to play some music while you proceeded to put fruits in the blender to make smoothies. Swaying your body to the music at the same time lip-syncing to the words, you spread butter on slices of bread unaware of Jean's presence behind you. The man crossed his arms, leaning on the wall he admired your actions which were nothing but alluring to him.

What made it even more hot to him was the fact that you were wearing his shirt. At first in the studio, he didn't realise but now that he noticed, he couldn't help but smirk to himself. He took in the way his shirt was practically floating on you, the flashbacks of last night suddenly raced through his mind. The way you were moaning his name, grabbing the sheets tightly as you let him take control of you made him take a deep breath before he approached you.

Now it was his turn to return you the hug from earlier. Surprised by him, he didn't leave you a second to react to his abrupt act of affection, he moved your hair to the side to plant a kiss on your neck making you shiver. His arms tightened around you just as his kisses went deeper all through your neck.

"y/n," his hot breath unsteady.

"Je-Jean, the eggs are gonna burn," you breathed.

"The only thing burning right now is my urge to fuck you right on this counter," Jean whispered in your ear almost making you lose your thinking pattern.

"Jean, I'm serious," you tried to wingle from his grasp to save your omelettes and placed them on two separate plates.

Jean looked at you disappointedly as though a puppy who had just lost its toy.

"Aww don't look at me like that, gimme a kiss, come on," you opened your arms, encouraging him to come to you.

Gladly he did and locked his lips in an instant.

"Jump," Jean demanded in between the makeout and you, of course, obeyed.

Your legs around his hips, sloppy lips fighting for dominance, Jean pressed your ass on the kitchen island. His arms snaking up and down your thighs, giving them a light squeeze here and there.

"Your legs are pretty, but they would be prettier on my shoulders hmm," his voice laced with a passion so hot like molten lava.

Your insides now ignited with flame, you pushed your hips into his by closing in your legs wrapped around him. Hard. Mischievousness coursed through your mind as you wanted to tease him for making you flushed.

"Want my legs over you? well catch them if you can," with that said, you jumped off the kitchen island freeing yourself from his clutches to run away from him.

"Hey! Get back here! I'm not done with you! " Jean called after you, laughing as he chased you down the corridors. A soft genuine laugh emitting from him when you threw pillows from the sofas at him to halt his movements only for him to catch the items and throw it back at you like a snowball fight.

A grin plastered on your face when you finally got tired of the running and collapsed on the floor with Jean kneeling beside you equally euphoric. The happiness was mainly because he felt so much at peace seeing your smile.

"Got ya," he breathed from exhaustion, encircling his arms around your waist and pulling you close so that he could rest his chin on your shoulder.

"You're so warm," Jean nuzzled his nose into your neck.

"Speaking of warmth, our food's getting cold in the kitchen, hurry up we need to eat," you mentioned.

"The only thing I want to eat right now is you-" you cut him off with your index finger pressed on his soft lips.

"Jean, I swear to god, let's go," you pushed him from back because he was trying to grab your ass, however, you receded.

"Your hands were so small on my back, but I'd prefer them jerking my dic-" again you shut him up by shoving toast bread in his mouth to save you from further embarrassment.

"Y/n baby, I need you so bad right now," he said swallowing that bread hard as your eyes widen.

From the look in his eyes, you could tell that this man was sexually frustrated, certainly because of your actions earlier but you didn't expect him to be so thirsty.

For a brief moment, a thought came up to you, basically telling you to refuse his current wishes to make him further agitated just so that you ravish the feeling of him taking the pent-up anger out harder on you later. Perfect plan, you internally agreed to yourself.

"Oh you need me badly? How about you show me that at night, okay?"a light smirk stretching the corner of your mouth.

" Y/n, I need you now, like right now, I can't wait till night or anything," Jean whined. How cute.

"Aww, you're that desperate baby? You can't hold yourself back? I thought you were tougher than this,"you cooed.

" Y/n, I can see damn well what you're trying to do, so stop messing with me please, "Jean reached out to grab your face only for you to pull back. Not going to lie that did hurt you when you saw the disappointed look on his face, yet, oddly that made you feel and realise the control you had over him and goddamn this felt good.

"Okay then, how about a little bit of challenge for you? If you manage to keep your hands off me the entire day and that includes any sort of contact, I'll make a surprise for you tonight as a reward. And if you lose then no sex for you until the next day baby. Deal?"

"Now that's going to be hard as hell but your surprises never fail to entertain me so deal."

"That was quick of you," you commented shaking his hand as a way of signing the contract.

"I just know that you're going to do something remarkable that will blow my mind so I'm simply looking forward to it."

His hopes were ridiculously high for the reward and luckily you already had something in mind for tonight.

After breakfast, Jean wasted no time to rush into his studio to keep you out of his sight. That was going to be a little too easy for him to win in this way. Not that you didn't want him to win, you couldn't help but want to push him to his limits. While you were scavenging your mind for the perfect way to catch him off guard, you heard a knock at the door. Outside was the postman with a package which seemed to be a delivery of one of the various things you kept buying online.

Taking the parcel inside, you opened it to find something that made you smiled evilly. It was a black transparent two pieces lingerie with lace straps. Not a second was wasted for you to change into that. To hide your plans, you wore a bathrobe and tiptoed to the studio.

Inside, Jean clearly concentrated on drawing when you creaked open the door, his attention now on you.

"Y/n why are you wearing a bathrobe in the middle of the da- oh-"

Right at that moment, you removed the robe letting it fall to your feet to unveil the marvel that was hidden inside of it.

Jean's breath hitched in his throat.

"You have no idea how badly I want to scream right now,"his pencil falling out of his hand, he covered his face with his hand and took a step back from you. He rubbed his temples as he inhaled deeply.

"Fuck y/n, why are you doing this to me?"he looked at you from up to down as though he was eating you up with his eyes, capturing every inch of what he's seeing and burning it into his memory.

"Do you like what you see?" your hands on your hips as you leaned on the wall.

"You have no idea."

You chucked and approached him slowly.

"If only I could touch you right now, you have no idea of what I'd do to you," Jean put his hands into the pockets of his pants to try to contain himself from not jumping on you like a hungry wolf who hasn't eaten in weeks.

Clacking your black heels on the cold tiles, your hands meticulously moving on your hips, you diminished the distance between you two. One foot difference. Jean licked his teeth from inside closed mouth and opened it slightly to let out hot breath, sustaining the proximity but you could see the intensity in his eyes.

"I can't stop staring, please y/n, "

"Where's the fun in that? I wanted to see you all hopeless for me and you're doing a pretty good job resisting," your finger pointing at his growing bulge.

Blowing air from his mouth, his hands on his hips, he walked to and fro.

"Is this the surprise you were telling me about in the morning?"

"Of course not, the surprise is bigger than this. I just wanted to give you a little sneak peak thought since I love you so much and don't want to kill you with a heart attack," you giggled twirling a strand of your hair. His eyes went big.

"If that's the case, you better prepare yourself for tonight because you seriously don't know what I'm going to do to you," Jean licked his lips.

"Can't wait," you blew him a kiss while you strolled out of the room, his eyes still fixated on the lingerie.

Not only did what happened turned you on, but it also motivated you to start the preparations for Jean to wreck you till you couldn't walk. Changing into pajamas for comfort, you took out scented candles of your preference and placed them on the nightstands and dressing table in the bedroom.

Jean's POV

'What the hell was y/n even thinking pulling that move on me? '

Sighing deeply I looked at my boner.

"Now what am I going to do of you? Jerk off to the memory of y/n in that black lingerie?"

On second thought, that doesn't sound bad, except for the fact that he was in an art studio.

Gosh, was he not turned when he first saw you in that. The way the cloth surrounded your soft breasts, decorating them to be perhaps the most flawless thing he'd ever seen or the way your stance screamed if confidence. He couldn't decide which of them were hotter.

The little ribbons on the strap did nothing but make you more erotic. How did you even manage to look that good, is a mystery that he will never discover.

"I really got the best of the best for me huh," Jean smiled to himself.

His art failed in front of you. Null and void. In his eyes you were the definition of what a beauty goddess was, hence proving that beauty indeed lied in the eyes of the beholder. Despite your imperfections which nonetheless still made you impeccable, Jean always attempted in copying your sublimity yet in vain.

Without a doubt, you were the best Muse he's ever had in his life. One day hoping that he would finally do you justice and be able to recreate his image of you in his mind on cloth, Jean kept trying albeit failing each time. However, he would absolutely never give up.

Collecting himself from the recent impact, he picked up his pencil from the ground and as much as he wanted to concentrate on his drawing of you, he couldn't prevent himself from picturing you from back then. You were beyond gorgeous. Maybe, that exactly was the inspiration he needed.

"I need to take a bath," Jean said to himself. Luckily there were two bathrooms in the house, as he wouldn't want to interrupt you while you were busy making whatever surprise.

To be honest, Jean was as impatient as you and full on ready to be taken by surprise by you.

Your POV

"Okay I've cleaned the room spotless, scented it, changed the sheets of the bed, took out towels and now time to bring the big thing,"you checked off everything on your mentally made-up list before you could continue.

Rushing to the wardrobe, you took out the art supplies required for the sex painting. Canva isn't the comfiest option for sex but you knew that it will all be worth the work at the end.

You honestly couldn't wait to see Jean's reaction to this.

Since the mattress can get a little colorful, you didn't want to run the risk of ruining the bedding either, you rather placed the sheet of canva on the carpeted floor that was still easy to the body. Laying down a cloth, that you taped so that it wouldn't dislocated when things get moving, on top of which you placed the canva and towels around it as well as a trail of towels towards the bathroom so that clean up of the post-art would be rendered easier.

"Okay now that everything is settled, let's go take a bath and prep myself up," you muttered to yourself, locking the door from the inside so that Jean wouldn't accidentally enter it.

-Time skip-

A private dinner in your dwelling makes for an magical evening. Silk sheet on the table, napkins neatly pleated on the white plates surrounded by tableware. Incorporating flower petals, slow romantic harmonious music, and low lighting to create the right atmosphere you as well added string lights for an added touch of enchantment. Aphrodisiac food was the obvious choice, you thought, placing down the lobster in the middle. Wine in glasses twinkling to the fairy lights for a further sizzle.

Not long until Jean made his appearance in a suit, top buttons of his shirt loose while you were in a black dress lighting the scented candles.

"Hey babe," his throaty voice called.

Turning around, you saw him, his hands in his pockets walking towards you. His large body towering yours.

"You look hot," he complimented looking down on you.

"So do you," you giggled bopping his nose.

Pulling a chair, Jean signaled you to sit as he pushed the chair then going to his seat facing you.

The empty wine glasses were delicately filled with the red alcohol, each of you raising your goblet for a cheers.

" Cheers to my pretty boyfriend."

"Cheers to my future wife," Jean smirked as you were busy turning fifty shades of red.

In comfortable silence, except for the clinking of utensils, both of you ate.

"Main course is done for, now time for dessert, "he said standing from his chair to yours. Lift you off the ground swiftly, he walked you to the bedroom in bridal style.

"huh? HUH? Jean what are you doing?"

"Taking my dessert to eat, what else?" he replied kissing you. His kiss was a fever. Hot. Sluggish.

Opening the door to disclose the surprise, his eyes went wide until it hit him. The canva and towels on the ground, paint orderly laid on the bed.

"I was thinking the house needed some more decorations, so why not spice things up by creating this masterpiece and hanging it in the living room for everyone to see? " innocently you smiled at him.

"Hahaha y/n! You're amazing!" rosy cheeks, eyes twinkling with admiration and affection he twirled your body in air, "wait then that means that the whole day you preventing me from touching you was pointless," his expression now slightly frowned.

"I mean, yeah, I mean, I just wanted to see you desperate for me," you fumbled with your words.

"Bad girl. After this I will have to punish you for making me suffer for nothing," Jean put you down.

You didn't know whether to feel anticipation or fear knowing that this man was going to wreck you.

"Why are you acting coy all of a sudden? Weren't you the one to act like a whore? " with the cockiest smirk ever Jean said.

His hands previously placed gently on your hips began to tighten. The press only fueled your rapid beating of your heart. Tilting your head towards his face by lifting it with one finger on your chin, he locked eye contact with you.

Lust filled his irises. Skilfully, he unzipped your dress and pulled it off your skin. Skin that desired to be touched so badly. Skin that burned under his fingertips that grazed the surface. Under the clothes exposed the black lingerie that got Jean worked up since morning.

Even though he already saw you in it, it nevertheless felt like the first time. The same adoration that held his gape seemed to be worshiping your body.

"May I take your bra off? " Jean asked. You nodded, Jean elatedly removed it.

"Look at these perfect tits. Belonging and made only for me," cupping them in his hands, he growled against your neck.

Your mind going blanc and empty, you were left speechless. Only ravishing him. His presence. His hot breath fanning on you. As much as you wanted to take this slowly, you couldn't stop yourself from craving to feel him buried deep inside of you.

Your hand slightly sliding over his growing bulge, earning a hiss and restrained moan from him.

"No. You're not going to be the one to tease me anymore. It's my turn," biting your collarbone, he declared making you leap in his arms.

Feeling self-conscious that you were the only one in undergarment, you unbuttoned his shirt and ripped it off him while he was sloppily making out with you.

Grabbing your thighs, he insinuate for you to jump. Chest to chest, he then threw you on the bed making it sink under your weight. He was finally freed from his restraints of not laying a hand on you.

His body hovering yours, he kissed you passionately. He's never kissed you like this before. Maybe you should restrain him more often.

Jean swallowed your gasp when unknowingly his hand went down your stomach to press on your clothed clit.

"Huh? You like that?" laughs "yeah you like that don't you," he breathed his finger circling around the bud. Your response was a moan and your breath quickening. Your reaction turned Jean on more than he already was.

Going down on you, he sucked your soaked underwear, the room filled with slurping sounds. He gripped your hips by wrapping his big arms around it to prevent you from squirming away. You were practically a moaning mess. Aggressively, he ripped it off you, continuing to lick through your folds.

"Jea-Jean I think I'm going to c-cum," you manage to utter.

"Heh, not yet princess, we got so much more do," he wiped his mouth that was coated with your juices and licked the liquid off his fingers. You looked at him with pleading eyes as you were yearning for a release.

Legs trembling, you raised your body to be able to sit while Jean grabbed the body-safe paint and put a fair amount on the cloth.

"Come here my lady," he said as he picked you to lay your body gently on the canva, paint on your back.

Jean took off his pants and underwear, his hard dick slapping on his stomach whilst you were making yourself comfortable.

A brush in his one hand and a palette in another, he sauirted some paint on the flat item.

Impatience began to overcome you as you begged him to come to you.

"Wait a moment more babe, I'm just making the perfect colour," Jean finished his sentence by approaching you.

Jean maintained eye-contact with you, the brush gliding over your soft skin leaving colors behind its track. Chills ran down your skin after each stroke. Drowning in bliss, Jean slowly ran the tool down your belly to an inch higher up your pussy. You were waiting for him to pass the paint through your core but instead he stopped his actions making you internally more annoyed.

"I'm not going to let you get off so easily after what you did to me," Jean murmured.

Cold. Squeezing the paint tubes, Jean splat paint on your body, mainly on your stomach. He leaned forward and pressed his body against yours to spread the paint.

Lining his dick right outside your entrance, he thrusted in without warning. Your back arching, you let out a moan. His hands rushing behind your back, he hugged your body as he gave you time to adjust to him.

"Mmmm, fits perfectly. Look at how good you take me, yeah you see that? "Jean moaned in your ear.

" It's okay, you can move,"you bit back a groan because Jean didn't leave you a second before pumping in and out of you.

" I can't believe you're mine, all mine, no one but me knows how good you feel, just me,"Jean panted in your ears," listen to my moans, you he-ear how goo-od you're making me feel? "

"AH-yes Jean, yes," you purred.

His forehead rested on yours, mouth connected, swallowing each other's breath and sounds.

" Go faster Jeaann." This made him slow down instead of doing as you wanted.

"Oh? you want me to go faster? Go-o ahead, beg for it. Tell me how bad you need me," Jean's stroked your insides with long and slow thrusts.

"Pl-please Jean, need you so badly, you make me feel so good so take all your anger out on me bu-ut please make me cum alongside with you!"

"Lift your ass, my queen,"Jean satisfied with your answer commanded, which you did as he ordered as he pounded deeper into you mixing the paint on the canva.

"Look at you, such a good girl."

It wasn't long until Jean filled your insides with his hot seed making you scream his name loudly. Right before you could come that Jean could tell by the shaking of your breath, he lifted your body off the masterpiece so that your ejaculation wouldn't ruin it.

In his arms, you came so hard, your liquids dripping down Jean's skin.

"Y/n, I don't think you realised that but what you just did was so hot," Jean admired you.

"Also, thank you for fulfilling my fantasies as an artist," he thanked you kissing your cheeks fondly.

Walking on the towel leading to the bathroom, he put you inside the bathtub, opening the tap to let the container fill with hot water. While it was doing so, Jean got in with you between his legs and head on his chest heaving up and down.

Jean took some shampoo in his hand, and massaged your scalps with you basking. Heavenly was a word too light to describe the feeling. You were basically in paradise.

"In round two I'm not planning on going gentle now so just bite the pillow and take it," Jean sputtered against your hair.

[starshineskyandthepowerofrock]

First Day

Part 5 of Starshine, Sky, and the Power of Rock.

I've been told that dreams are commonly nonlinear, nonsensical, and not necessarily pleasant. Some are even scary. I can't imagine being thrust into one's day after experiencing something so stressful. Good thing that never happens to me.

Of all the perks there are to being the Heir to Light, I'd say one of my favorites is the nightly visions. Every time I fall asleep, I'm pretty sure the Crown of Light speaks to me. Well, "speak" isn't the right word, more like it conveys information. Considering I've been on the right track towards my ultimate goal of defeating the Band of Darkness for years at this point, there's rarely much I need to know other than, "Yep, the battle's still a long time from now." Exactly how long it'll take before I have to face Princess Persephone has never been made clear, but I suppose I'll find out when it's relevant.

Anyway, you can imagine how pleased the Crown is to know I'm training so enthusiastically, and with little to report it has gotten into the habit of conjuring up beautiful places for me to rest within myself before I have to start the day. I'm still endlessly excited about starting school when I wake up. And the Crown is clearly excited that I'm excited, because I'm currently laying in an endless field of roses, carnations, and hydrangeas. The mystical auras emanating from each one wash me in a soothing palette of cool blues, lavenders, and pinks. The sky is less a sky and more a deep blue ocean of infinite diamonds, stretching forever above me. I notice a star twinkle, almost wink at me, and I reach in an attempt to give some sort of reply. Ah, yes. I, too, am a star. Hence the name. And in just a few short hours, I'll begin to truly shine the way I was born to.

"Me and my band..." I whisper to myself.

Something pricks me in the back. I sit up and turn to see what the nuisance could be, baffled because I don't remember the last time I felt pain during a vision. Amongst the flowers still glowing with life, one is shriveled and black. And thorny. Really, really thorny. I rub my back.

"Sorry, sorry," I say. "My band and me."

Another rose, this time beneath my hand, wilts and stabs me right in the palm.

"Ow! Okay, well, you know there are instances where 'and me' is appropriate! You say 'and I' when it's the subject of a sentence! Or is this because I made a sentence fragment-"

This one gets me in the butt. I stand straight up. "UGH! Okay, if it's not grammar, then what is it?" But then I remember who's in my band. "Is this about Skylar?"

I'm not met with further violence, which I take to mean "yes."

Gingerly, I sit back down, my silk nightgown billowing around me. I pick a carnation and twirl it between my fingers. "I mean... She's kind of weird. And she could use a makeover. But I don't know... I mean, I know she's a monster, but... she seems... nice." I look down. The carnation is welling up with blood.

I scream. Drop it. The blood flies out on the way down and splatters on my nice blue nightgown. "That was my third favorite!" I shout up at the sky. "She wasn't hurting anyone! What, just because I'm destined to defeat a vampire princess I suddenly have to hate every single one?" The thought escapes my mouth the exact moment it forms. I place my hands in my lap, and stare at them as I turn over the fresh idea in my mind.

The Crown seems to be having the same thought process - I guess magical crowns can have those - because the tainted roses slowly but surely begin to swell with new life, their thorns receding into smooth, harmless stems. See, Crown? I'm reasonable.

⭐⭐⭐

The Royal Academy of Rock's uniform is insanely cute. Granted, I may be biased in that I make everything look cute, but still. I love the way the dark purple pleated skirt twirls with my every movement. I can't fathom why anyone would prefer the pants option, but to each their own, I suppose. I smooth down the pastel cyan blouse before putting on the navy blue tie, which I have spent more time practicing the tying of than I'd care to admit. Said tie matches the double-breasted blazer I slide over all of this. My Soul Key took the liberty of customizing it to have little purple jewels for buttons, which is just so me, you know? Said key, encrusted with tiny blue and purple gems and featuring a fabulous hot pink star-shaped handle, hangs from a loop on my skirt's waistband. And now, there's a familiar tightness missing from my wrist. I retrieve my special bracelet from my jewelry box, slip it on under my sleeve, and twirl for my own reflection. Perfection. Hey, those rhyme!

I take the tiniest detour to jot this down in the section of my journal labeled, "Ideas," put the journal back in my sleek messenger bag that I've made sure matches my uniform's color scheme, look through the bag one last time to make sure everything I need today is there, and look at that! I'm all set!

As I make my way to breakfast, I notice an extra spring in my sashay. I'm joining a drove of kids in matching blazers and ties. They all look so cute! And they clearly feel the same way about me, because necks are craning left and right, jaws are going slack, and I'm hit with the familiar "Your Highness"s from all around. I flash a bright smile in return. I'm fully capable of knowing how gorgeous I am all on my own, but outside confirmation is certainly nothing to complain about.

Without warning, I'm crushed from behind by an enthusiastic hug. Next thing I know, my feet are dangling above the floor and I'm struggling to breathe.

"Morning, Star!" Citrus says in my ear.

"Good morning," I manage to choke out, and that's when he realizes maybe a hug to him is a headlock to me.

He releases me and we keep walking. "Heh heh... Sorry about that..." he says, scratching between his cat ears. "It's just been a while, you know?"

"Ugh, don't I!" I reply. "I wish we had some classes together."

"Or could at least eat at the same table!" Citrus replies.

I giggle. "Agreed. But, you know, bands have got to stick together! Even when we eat. Plus," I indicate the awestruck kids all around us, "I think a lack of assigned seating would mean everyone would try to sit with me."

Citrus looks around as told, his eyebrows raised as though this is news to him. "Oh, but you're just Star!" he says before bringing a hand down on my shoulder. The new hug he gives me is a touch more gentle than the last. "I'd love to catch up," he says.

"Well, how about this?" I offer. "We'll go for a fly right before dinner. Talk to our hearts' content." I haven't ridden my flying horse, Splendor, in a couple days anyway. We could both use some fresh air.

Citrus considers this for a moment. He smiles. "Okay!" He looks ahead to see three other boys waving him over to them. "Oh! There's my band! Gotta go!" And with that, I'm left alone again. But I've reached the dining hall at this point anyway, so it's whatever.

The dining hall is one of the more spacious parts of the palace, which is understandable considering it has to comfortably hold all of the Academy's students, plus a very extensive buffet setup, from which breakfast is currently being served. Each table is labeled with the room number of the band that has been assigned to it, which means I'm scanning each for the one that says "L-42." But it turns out I don't have to, because Crescent is standing on her seat, waving her hands way above her head and gesturing for me to sit with her and Pearl at a table near the far wall. They're backlit by one of the multiple giant windows flooding the room with morning light.

"Good morning!" I say as I make my way towards them. I scan the buffet quickly, trying to locate the others. "Where's Sky and Gossamer?"

My question is partially answered before either girl says anything when I notice kids scurrying off to the side trying to avoid someone, and I find it far from unreasonable to guess who that someone might be. At last, a unicorn boy and a couple mermaids back away from my view to reveal Sky, who looks relieved to find our table and be rid of the crowd.

The image of a monster in our pristine uniform is quite a surreal one. Judging by what she was wearing yesterday, I'm a tad surprised she knows how to tie a tie. I'm not surprised that she didn't tuck it under her blazer, though. Nor am I surprised that she chose the pants option.

"Morning," she says, sitting down and setting her bag next to her seat, and I now notice there's... something smudged on the corner of her mouth. Something red.

I can't speak for a moment, but Crescent manages a tentative smile. "Good morning," she says. "Uh..."

"What?" Sky asks.

I tap the corner of my own mouth. "You, um, have a little something..."

Sky blinks. Brow furrowed, she wipes a hand across her mouth and looks down at her hand. "Oh," she says, and then chuckles. "Oops." She looks up, expecting us to find this funny, too.

We don't laugh.

"What? It's not from a person," she says.

I'm too freaked out to have her elaborate, so instead I say, "Well, I'm gonna go get breakfast. I'll be back."

"Okay," Crescent says through a mouthful of rice, and Pearl just nods. Her eyes haven't left her salad this whole time. I guess that stuff is normal breakfast food where they come from.

During the process of getting my usual meat-lover's omelette with lactose-free cheese, I keep looking over my shoulder at the table. Pearl looks like she's trying to turn invisible, but it seems that Sky and Crescent are at least trying to talk. In fact... I think they're smiling! The weight in my heart begins to lift.

It is then that the Glade sisters burst in. Summer leads the pack, and I can practically see smoke emanating from her ears. Dewdrop is attempting to calm a steaming Aspen. Breezy is telling Gossamer, who brings up the rear, to hurry up. Gossamer stares at the ground, rather than ahead like her older sisters.

Actually, they aren't just looking ahead. Their gaze is aimed right at my band's table. No, not the table. Sky. Oh no.

I head back to the table as fast as I can without dropping my food, set my tray down, and turn to face the Glades, who have made their way over. "Is there a problem here?"

"My sister is not going to be in a band with that!" Summer replies, pointing at Sky.

"I'm sorry, 'that'? She has a name," I say.

Summer scoffs. "As if I care!" She gets real close to Sky, who's been staring at the floor since they came. "Listen, bloodsucker. If you so much as breathe the same air as-"

"Vampires don't have to breathe," Gossamer says.

Summer whips her head around and gives her sister a silencing glare. But then her expression softens a tad with realization. "That's right, Goss. They don't," she says, and leans down next to Sky's ear with a look of pure malice. "Because they're dead. They're filthy, disgusting carcasses that DON'T BELONG IN OUR SCHOOL!"

If Sky doesn't have to breathe, then that makes the deep, shuddering breaths she's taking now rather unnecessary. She stays silent, and she dares not make eye contact with anyone.

The dining hall is silent now. Everyone is staring at us for a slice of the drama. But I don't need drama, especially not on the first day of school!

"Well, Summer, what do you plan to do about that?" I ask her, my voice reverberating in the spacious hall.

Summer slowly comes up and looks at me, eyes wide and lips pursed. She's silent for a second. "I have connections."

"She says to the princess," I respond immediately.

Summer huffs, and looks past me out the window in an attempt at subtly breaking eye contact. "Okay, well..." She blinks rapidly, desperate for a way to have the last word. "Go ahead," she says, her eyes snapping back in place to continue our little staring contest. "Make friends with a monster. We'll see how well that turns out for you." Satisfied with her half-baked comeback, she struts away. Aspen, Breezy, and Dewdrop are yanked along on their invisible leashes, but Gossamer stays in place.

"You know there's assigned seats, right?" I ask her.

Gossamer refuses to meet my eyes, but stares at Sky, her mouth a single line. She looks around at everyone staring, then scurries off to join her sisters. I guess the assigned seating thing is based on an honor system, because no one stops her. Whatever. I don't need that kind of negativity anyway.

"I'm really sorry about them," I tell Sky, sitting down. "I promise, we aren't all like that."

Sky doesn't respond. Her breath slows, steadies, and stops altogether. She finally looks up at me. "Why did you do that?"

"Um, because I'm not a jerk?" I giggle, cutting into my omelette. "You were in trouble, so I helped out. It just felt right, you know?" I take a bite. "Plus," I say after swallowing. "I never pass up an opportunity to deal with Summer."

Sky smiles with appreciation, then her eyes light up. "Did you know people grow rice on the moon?"

Crescent beams. "I've been teaching her about my home!"

So that's what they were chatting about.

⭐⭐⭐

A teacher that makes the kids work on the first day is an insane one. Good thing we don't have those here, but I am just a bit disappointed because this is a music week. Instead, most every teacher has one of those icebreaker games prepared for us.

Ms. Solstice, the music theory teacher, hands us each an index card with a different question on it, and we have to ask this question to each person in the classroom on an individual basis. Cue a disjointed mess of kids wandering around, trying to remember who they have and haven't asked about their top three favorite movies (I only watch musicals and chick flicks, if you were wondering).

The songwriting teacher, Mr. Crystalline, has us write answers about ourselves on the white board for the whole class to see. When asked about her least favorite habit in other people, Crescent writes, "Getting angry." Pearl reveals her favorite pastime to be painting, which sounds hard to do underwater. Gossamer professes her dislike of the scent of grass. And Sky, when asked to share the biggest secret she feels comfortable revealing, writes, "It's not a secret if I feel like sharing it."

Mr. Ebullient asks the guitarists in the class to show the rest what we can do, I suppose as a way of setting an example or getting us out of our shells or something. I preface my demonstration by making it clear that I'm best on rhythm guitar and that Sky will likely end up taking the lead. This statement leads to all eyes gluing themselves to Sky, who sinks into her seat with her arms crossed.

Once it's her turn to sit in front of the class, guitar in hand, she just sits there, eyes wide and jaw slack. She drops the pick multiple times and when she has a good grip on it, it just wavers over the strings, not making a sound. She turns a shivering head to Mr. Ebullient, who tells her that not everyone is going to overcome stage fright in one day and that she can return to her seat. She does so, and hangs her head so that her hair forms a white curtain that hides her face. Whispers buzz through the class like a swarm of flies.

I feel the need to lean over and ask if she's okay. She doesn't respond. So, I reluctantly pull away and bring my attention to the next kid's performance. She'll be fine. I hope.