At 5:30 the alarm doesn't go off, because I turned it off last night, but I wake up at 5:30 anyway.

I lie there in the dark with the spare blanket and the wrong quiet and the ceiling, and the body starts its inventory: breasts, the weight of them in the position I've been sleeping, the labia warm and in their soft continuous contact, the hip bones wider against the mattress. Eight seconds, maybe. Then I'm done with it and I'm just awake at 5:30 with nowhere to be.

Chapter 13 — “The Frozen Gate”

The wind had gone still.

There are weights on my chest, pulling sideways.

Something's different before I'm fully awake. The weight of the blanket, or the mattress, the way my hips sit against it, two contact points spread wider than they should be. There's a warmth at my chest that isn't how my chest feels when I sleep. I lie there tracking it with my eyes closed. The body keeps giving me things I don't want.

The alarm says 5:21. I got there first, which is normal.

The fluorescent over Exam Three has been buzzing all morning and nobody's put in the ticket yet. I notice it again while Aaron Bell tells me, for the second time, that he found it in the shower.

Chapter 14: The Inquisition Reimagined

Torn from his own world and stuffed into the body of the villainess he'd been writing, "Amelia" must navigate a world she really should know - too bad she was never great at worldbuilding.

Now stuck in a world she (maybe) created, Amy 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'd never even considered. And let's not even get into the complexities of the magic system or the infuriating 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 get out of that...

...Right?

Cover by The Sweet Winter

My Diary.

By Nikkie Silk

Dear Diary

Today was a busy day. This morning, I kissed Daddy goodbye at the front door, wearing my pink baby-doll nightie. The nightie rides up to show my matching knickers, which barely cover my little cockette in its cage. Daddy keeps the key close to his heart on a chain around his neck, which I think is supersweet of him. It is gestures like that which make me love him so much. Only he can use the key, as it should be, I hasten to add.

Chapter 3

Chapter 61: Segregation for Power

Royal Decree of Queen Yuqi

To all dragons of every class and clan:

As the door opened, a bell bracketed to the wall rang. “Welcome to the Magic Shoppe,” the tall, thin man behind the counter announced. “What can I do for you today?”

The man in his mid-thirties approached the counter. He mostly ignored the maid sweeping near the front of the shop. “I hope you can help. I need to be a woman.”

“Interesting. How long have you wanted to be a woman?”

“I haven’t.”

“I knew this would be interesting.”

“I’m in love.”

As I pulled the convertible into a parking space near Doctor Hartwell’s clinic, I began to wonder if I should have asked Lauren along after all. Somehow the overpass seemed taller, the shadows longer, and the alleyways between the buildings darker.

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 Eleven — The Ledger

Gwen smoothed the front of her own dress in the mirror — deep green, worn exactly once before and never for a reason this good — and caught Sam's eyes finding her in the glass instead of her own reflection.

"You look incredible," Sam said, turning from her own mirror to actually look, unhurried, appreciative, the particular look she'd only started giving Gwen in the last few weeks, like she still couldn't quite believe she was allowed to.

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?

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?