A friendly place to read, write and discuss Transgender Fiction.
Home of 3000+ chapters of Easy as Falling off a Bike by Angharad and many other stories.
Now that the truth has been revealed, Quinn and Ricky have a lot to deal with.
Each has their own struggles as they try to figure out what is best for themselves.
Alex must deal with being outed by a well meaning guest. Christmas continues
to surprise everyone at The Haven. I wanted so badly to have this done by Christmas,
but real life kept getting in the way. Nothing bad - just a lot of things happening
at once. Thank you to everyone who has been following the story!
Now for the Final Act of this story...
After flubbing a powerful incantation, meant to give newly coronated Demon Queens the wisdom of their ancestors, Devilla Satanne awakens to memories of her past life as Jacob Divington, a human from Earth. Having gained a new perspective on life, she quickly comes to a rather horrifying conclusion: she's been a complete and utter brat! No wonder everyone hates her!
And then there's the fact that she's apparently been reincarnated as the villainess of Tower Conquest, a lesbian porn game with a surprisingly intricate plot. One in which the Heroine conquers Dimona Tower, turning Devilla's people against her in the process. In victory, the Heroine brings about a glorious age of peace between demons and humans for the first time in millennia. ...Which actually sounds pretty good for her people, come to think of it. Devilla knows her terrible behavior is beyond forgiveness, but maybe she can still make up for her past mistakes? She just needs to make sure the events of the game unfold correctly. Though there is one little detail she'd like to change - the part where Devilla herself is killed or enslaved!
In this chapter, Emily begins to settle into a new rhythm, finding comfort in the warmth of her surroundings and the kindness of those around her. A game of soccer in the backyard helps break down barriers, while moments at the dinner table and a quiet evening of homework bring unexpected feelings of connection and accomplishment. Slowly but surely, Emily starts to see glimpses of hope and possibility in her new life.
I knew I shouldn’t have listened to Barry. I had been listening to him all my life. That’s why I get expelled. That’s why after 10 years of trouble with the police my family booted me out. None of them wanted anything to do with me.
I looked back just in time to see my sister, Jake, before she headed deeper into the forest. That’s a weird thought: Jake, my sister. Maybe Jacqueline would fit her better? Nah. She doesn't really seem like a Jackie.
My dad looked over and saw me looking back. “Well, it's certainly been an unusual night. That definitely was weird, wasn’t it, son?”
At birth Morgan’s parents had registered him as a boy and reared him as a boy for obvious reasons, he had a penis. His early life had in the main been happy, but after the age of thirteen his life had become lonely, hard on his nerves and his only constant companions had been hunger and cold. By the age of fifteen he was gender confused, although he’d never heard of the term, which was hardly surprising for that was when Murphy reappeared in his life, and visited him with the puberty Morgan had been expecting for a couple of years. Though Morgan wasn’t particularly surprised, and indeed was a little relieved, his problem was it wasn’t the event any one else would have expected, for menarche and breast development is usually associated with girls.
This is a story about having a second chance to be the person you were meant to be.
The traffic on the north circular was hell as usual. Typical London traffic. Everyone angry, everyone just trying to get home. No one giving an inch. It had been gridlocked for half an hour. I had promised my wife that by some miracle I would be home earlier than my normal 7pm to take her out to her favourite restaurant for her birthday.
I stood at the lounge window, looking out to the north and the vista of London in the distance. I was in my apartment, on the thirtieth floor of a high-rise block in Croydon. Up until recently, I had been a reasonably famous player in the sweet game known as football, or, as some others know it, soccer - the world game.
I was now at a crossroads in my life, brought about by a wayward knee, and my future had looked bleak. There were, of course, the two loving arms that encircled me, and the waft of her perfume. They made everything better.
When Jon was offered a possible cure for Cancer he didn't expect to wake up as a girl, let alone a mermaid.
“Now, listen here. I’ve been observing and interacting with them. I know them better than anyone,” Dr. Emerson countered, trying to keep her voice calm and level.
What if supernatural beings like Witches, Faeries, Demons, and their ilk are all real? Glen Evanston is about to be caught in their many traps in my new work in progress: Magic, Mystery, and Mayhem a Graphic Novel by Raine Monday
Working for Aunt Sophie
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters
When my mother passed away, I had no choice but to go live with my Aunt Sophie who lived some distance away, separating me from the few friends I had. Aunt Sophie lived in Springfield and ran a small ladies clothing store below her modest home on the floor above. She was an expert seamstress and had an eye for what was truly fashionable and tasteful. She sold some factory-made stock, but she also made clever modifications and she made some tailored garments for discerning clients.
I wonder if there were another me
If she would like eating peanut butter on toast
At four in the morning?
Would she spread the peanut butter thin, but not too thin,
Just the way I do?
It has to be thick enough that
When she sprinkles peanuts on
They won't fall off
Because chunky peanut butter
Is never chunky enough?
Thirty minutes after I graduated from High School the bitter truth of life sank in as my parents told me that I either had to join the military or move out. This was sprung fifteen minutes after pictures were taken with friends and teachers, while the thoughts of what I had planned to do with my life were just a gleam in my eye, this was sprung on me.
Preludio: Lo Scambio Ingiusto
(The Unfair Exchange)
Kandahar Province, Afghanistan, mid-May, 2016…
A dream is a wish your heart makes
When you're fast asleep
In dreams you will lose your heartaches
Whatever you wish for, you keep
Almost alone in the midst of friends, the girl was lost in thought over the lingering hurt that eventually drove her to re-enlist.. She breathed in deeply and decided to join in the banter with her platoon.
“Got any plans?” Of course they all had plans of a sort; futures that most of them planned that included new places and new opportunities. And maybe new dreams; or rather new ways of realizing old, almost discarded dreams?
“I am fairly confident that my future will not include anything remotely khaki or camo,” she said.
“In fact, I’m…” She had meant to say ‘pewter’ and ‘copper’, and ‘jade,’ but her thoughts as well as the thoughts of everyone else were interrupted suddenly and severely...
Down through history there has been many stories of heroes and the weapons of power. Thor with his Warhammer Mjölnir, the sword of Aries and Mars, Attila the Hun’s sword, and King Author’s Excalibur. These are but a few legends. Yet for every one of these legends there are two legendary weapons lost to time. Among those lost weapons are the few whose power comes with a cost. They are the cursed weapons of power. Each curse is unique to the weapon. The Black sword is but one such weapon of great power. This is the story of the weapon and its newest welder.
Checks can be made out & sent to:
Joyce Melton
1001 Third St.
Space 80
Calimesa, CA 92320
USA
Note: $6000 is the operating, maintenance and upgrade budget. Amounts received in excess of the $6000 will be applied to long term debt accrued over the last 19 years.
Dedications:"For Emily"
For Stanman: "He was always there to offer a kind word and encouragement."
"In loving memory of
Robyn Lovelace
My life partner,
my life's love, my friend"
-- Karen J. Taylor
This site is dedicated to the
memory of lost friends
and particularly for
Jeanne Gerrib,
Rick Buhs, and
Bob Arnold.
-- Joyce Melton
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