#braizcn

parker: 😱🙀😱🙀🙀😱😱🙀

Ros: is anyone there

Demetrius: you're not with her right now, right?

Cicely: can we just curl up and eat ramen noodles together later?

- “ braizcn is literally the best. she's a ball of sunshine and i love her, and i hope she realizes that there are plenty of people who are excited to write with her. i get excited seeing her on my dash and reading her stuff, so to braizcn, keep up the good work! “

said the girl who started looking what creature would be cool and is slowly thinking about a demigod daughter of ares rip

sat alone in the library on a warm summer’s day, flaire busies herself by catching up on her reading. it’s the fifth plant biology book she’s picked up since they had arrived in the park, a guilty pleasure of hers, sort of. she’s perfectly content losing herself in the world of plant matter when the tall doors of the library open to reveal the princess of senade, her future sister-in-law. flaire is quick to get up and greet her with a curtsy and a smile. “oh, good day, your highness.”

with a soft grunt and a slow fluttering of long eyelashes, he wakes up, gets out of bed and passes the mirror to find… that he is now a she. parker’s a little disgruntled to say the least, not to mention a bit perplexed as to why aoife was there so early in the morning when they weren’t supposed to meet until later. that is, until he does a double take, his face contorting in sleepy confusion when he sees that aoife was mimicking his actions. realization dawns upon him like a slow sunrise, and all of a sudden it’s wake up and smell the batshit, he must be going crazy. his brown eyes–or rather, big and blue now that he’s not even himself anymore–bug out and his jaw drops at a weird angle as he inspects his reflection–or her reflection?–in the mirror. hands reach up to touch his face, his hair, his… breasts. holy mother of fuck he’s got boobs. no! he mentally smacks himself, his moral sense of propriety overcoming his teenage hormones (somewhere out there, his mother must be proud). no touching yourself… aoife… whoever the hell you are. this must be some sort of sick dream. yeah. that must be it. or possibly some sort of drug-induced hangover from last night. parker resigns to his bed, covers himself up in his sheets and shuts his eyes tight. hopefully this’ll all go away in the morning.