Back in the lab. Seo-yeon does the blood draw at my desk — tourniquet, vein located without hesitation, needle in. Three vials, labeled in her handwriting, coat pocket. She doesn't look at me while she does any of this. The mode she uses when she's already three steps ahead and the thing in front of her is a procedure rather than a problem.

Then she says: "The server."

I know what she means. I know what we're about to do.

Chapter Five
Banquet of Broken Dreams

Torn from his own world and stuffed into the body of a villainess, facing the end of a doomed route he himself wrote, "Amelia" must navigate a world she really should know - too bad she was never great at worldbuilding.

Stuck in a world she (maybe) created, Amelia quickly finds that reality has filled in the details she failed to describe. The characters who were so flat when she wrote them now have nuance, and motives. The kingdom she wrote into existence is experiencing internal strife she never even thought about. And let's not even get into the complexities of the magic system, or the demon that forced her into this situation to begin with...

Oh, and then there's the fact that she's about to be arrested and executed... but surely she can come up with a way to write herself out of that, right?

...Right?

Chapter 4

I had the Saturday morning before Mum would arrive. I tidied up the room, made sure I had everything in my case and what I was leaving was properly hung and folded. It was a cold day, and I was warmly dressed in jeans and a sweater. I had begun wearing slacks and jeans in the evening as the weather chilled.

Part of them getting to know each other was talking about how they looked and what style of clothes they liked.

It turned out that Diana was just half a size larger than Vienna, so she was able to wear at least some of the latter’s clothes. They both agreed that it would be fun to dress up in the evenings.

Cover art by Erin Halfelven
©2026, SammyC

So... we've come to a sex scene. Be warned.

Chapter 30 March 15th. 2026

Lucy came into Sarah’s room. She was still in her workout clothes from this morning, and sitting at the computer. “Hey,” she said and slid in close behind her. “I think we’re alone now.”

She slid her hand over Sarah’s shoulder and touched her small breast. It was compressed under a sports bra. She gently began to tweak her nipple with her thumb and forefinger.

For those of you who think it would be cruel and unusual punishment to wait for part 2 of this story (Yes I’m looking at both of you!) I’ve decided to post part 2 already today. For those of you unfamiliar with this story a part 2 usually signifies that there is a part 1. Not always but this time it does. You will be less confused if you read part 1 first.

The flight “home” had been pure purgatory for Chrysanthemum Daisy. Why had his parents bought “unaccompanied minor” status for him? For Cripes’ sake he was a high school student. Well, almost anyway. And to add insult to injury he had grown out of his middle school graduation suit (it had been on the small side already before) that he had arrived to camp in so he had had to wear his dress instead. Ok ONE of them. The first one, not the more daring one. So it was Miss Daisy here and Miss Daisy there. They were driving Miss Daisy out of her, sorry, his mind.

Atticus Carver, the star wide receiver, a popular sophomore in a high school in Louisiana, is about to get a change to his life he doesn't expect or want - and it's all in public.

Now the person who changed him to her, in spite of feeling terrible for what they did to an innocent young life and potentially more, wants one-hundred-million dollars wired to multiple bank accounts within a month, or they'll set the gender-bending spores on D.C.

Atticus is left reeling from everything, having to pick a new name for herself, learn to be a girl in high school, to finding new romances, to keeping her old friends and finding new ones, to picking up a brand-new sport for herself...and making enemies that she has no idea how to deal with...

I will also be posting this story on RoyalRoad.com and ScribbleHub.com.

The character in my dreams was not as common as Nancy or Victoria, but I was still quite familiar with her. Mona was a witch, a sorceress, whatever. A woman who did magic using a magic wand.

Chapter 8: At the Threshold

Morning arrived softly at the Temple of Aphrodite.

Hood up. Hair bundled underneath it, more or less contained. The sweatshirt is the largest I own and it reaches mid-thigh and in the elevator to the lab I stand with my face down and the hood forward.

I get to my desk before anyone else. This was the plan.

I open the overnight logs and they are good — rabbit's margins holding, pathway data clean, projection unchanged — and I focus on this and not on the fact that I am sitting in a laboratory in November in sandals and a hoodie like someone who has not quite finished becoming a person.

Good morning.

"Morning."