“Yeah, k’know, I just want to do everything I can to help our community!” the teenage girl said perkily, pouncing her foot up and down, her black and purple suit fitting snugly to her thin, lithe frame.

“I love you, Impetus!” someone shouted from the unwashed throng, fortunately held back by a barrier of police tape and news vans. Behind the mask, Adam held back a wince.

## Chapter 2 ##

Part Three

Long ago a magic user of normal skill came across the Medallion of Zulo. Divining its purpose on the first day he studied the item for weeks figuring out every nuance of the mystic item. Using a specially designed box and a ring of the same metal, he was able to link some abilities of the medallion to the ring. Not satisfied he tried several more times to add the full abilities to the ring, but nothing changed. In the end she lost the medallion and surprisingly happy with her new role as a witch.

Unknown number of generations later

College is over! Alexa and Jenny finalize the undergraduate careers and plan for two upcoming celebrations.
And one thorn in their sides seems to finally be resolved.

Harry Potter and the Trouble With Neurotypicals: Book Four.
Or, "Autistic Potter and the Goblet of Fire."

Notes: I do not own this. J. K. Rowling does. This is just fan fiction. No money is being made. Not by me, anyway.

There may be a few bits and pieces lifted word-for-word from the canon material. I tried to do that as little as possible, though, but there's a lot more in this one than usual because it was unavoidable. Still, lots of details are changed, so don't skip by familiar parts or you might miss something.

The first day back at school after the break was cold and overcast, the weather mirroring the moods of the student body. Mr. Burns, the English teacher, on the other hand, walked into class with a smile on his face. “Hope you all enjoyed Twelfth Night. Does anyone know what twelfth Night is?” I knew, but I didn’t want to call attention tp myself. “Anyone?” he repeated. Reluctantly, I raised my hand.

“Mr. Evans?” he said.

“It’s the end of the Christmas Season, and involves a lot of drinking and eating.”

“Very good,” Mr. Burns responded, “which is tomorrow for those who care. Please remember that your papers are due on Wednesday, which is Epiphany. From your papers I should be able to discover who actually read the play and who only surfed the internet for easy answers.”

I felt smug. Not only had my friends and I read it together and discussed it among ourselves, but I had actually written my paper, It was entitled: ‘Twelfth Night - Successful Cross-Dressing.’ In my paper I also made references to Cheribino’s cross-dressing in Der Rosenkavalier.

“If I help with dinner, does that mean that I can stay in the kitchen the whole time?” I responded.

“No!” she announced. She turned to me, and added, “And you will wear a suit.”

“A suit?” I questioned. I knew what she meant, but I decided to be a smart alec. “I have this nice suit with a pencil skirt and matching tailored jacket. Maybe a ruffled blouse?”

Amy thought this was humorous, and began to chuckle. My father didn’t. “You know darn well what your mother meant, so stop being a smarty pants,” he exploded.

“Maybe that should be ‘smarty panties’,” Amy said under her breath.

Unfortunately our father heard this and he said, “You behave yourself, young lady.”

The prior Wednesday my mother told me that she had made an appointment with a counselor for Friday afternoon, and she handed me a note to give the school excusing me from my afternoon classes.

As I left for school on Friday morning, she said, “The appointment is for 1:30, so try to be home by 1:00.”

My friends were interested in what this was all about, but I had absolutely no clue. “My mother made the appointment but didn’t tell me anything,” I explained.

“Look, if when you get wherever you’re going, and you see men in white coats with a straight jacket, run like hell,” Joe suggested.

The Queen of the Night was a mess. The sun was shining brightly when I awoke the morning after the Halloween party. I squinted at the clock; it was nearly 10:00 a.m. I looked about. My dress from last night was loosely draped over a chair, not hung up as it should have been. I came to realize that I still had my bra on but minus one insert, along with panties, garter belt and nylons. I had no idea where my slip was. My shoes had been abandoned in the middle of the room. Thankfully, I had put on a nightgown, or at least I was wearing one.

I got out of bed, somehow found a robe and made my way to the bathroom. My face was a mess; I hadn’t removed my makeup, but I, or someone, had removed my wig. I absently wondered where it could be.

Surveying the wreck in the mirror, I decided to remove the makeup as a first step to normalcy. Normalcy? How could I consider myself as anywhere near normal. After I cleaned off my makeup I stripped off the remainder of my clothes and stepped into the shower. First thing to do was to clear the cobwebs from my brain. A good shower was just the thing to do that.

Immediately after I came home from school on Monday afternoon I changed into my girl clothes, to connect with my experiences. That had been Becky’s suggestion. I then re-read my journal and started on the essay. I noted the stereotypes which were relevant to my experience, and decided to limit my essay to just those points. According to the instructions, Mrs. Benson wanted the essay to be at least one thousand words. My first draft was twice that. I set it aside to polish it over the next few days. I changed out of my girl clothes for supper, to avoid any snide comments from my sister although something in me was saddened when I did.

At that point I realized that having let my feminine side out, she wasn’t going to go away without a struggle. I decided to keep the name Renee for my feminine side.

When Hosties Wore Stockings

Mike Harris sat in his Business Class Seat and sipped his drink and allowed his mind to wander back to a better time in the annals of air travel. A time when flying was a pleasure, a time when hosties were young, pretty and attentive; a time when passengers comfort and satisfaction came first; a time when hosties wore stockings...

A non TG story by Michele Nylons

Keegan's family has a secret.
One so big it can change one's world.
Now that he is old enough his mother pushes him to use his family trait.

Harry Potter and the Trouble With Neurotypicals: Book Four.
Or, "Autistic Potter and the Goblet of Fire."

Notes: I do not own this. J. K. Rowling does. This is just fan fiction. No money is being made. Not by me, anyway.

Just to clarify: Yule Ball is actually on Yule because honestly, having it on Christmas always struck me as stupid because then the students didn't get to go home for Christmas. Fine for people like Harry who in canon didn't have anywhere to go that he wanted to be, but everyone else got the shaft.

William Shakspeare is a teenager in Stratford upon Avon, longing for a career on the stage. When he receives word that Anne Hathaway wishes to see him, he hurries to meet her – not least because she’s the only person outside his immediate family who knows his secret…

Transvixen
By
Michele Nylons

Chapter Seven: Panti Love - Michelle Lust

Panti and Michelle are now living full time as trans women and both are in relationships of sorts but trouble looms on the horizon

Transvixen
By
Michele Nylons

Chapter Five: Panti Pops Her Top

Cherri continues her quest to being transitioning whilst Panti becomes angry and self destructive. Wendy tries to reason with daughter but Panti rebels dangerously.

This story is set a week or two after the events of the story "Natural Affection (Link)". It can be read independently, but I recommend reading the other story first.

Brad Cooper has a lot of regrets about his past misdeeds.
He longs to be with a girl he knows, Sarah, but through his own actions that will never happen.
Or so he thinks.

The trip to London continues. Alexa searches for answers to the question that seems to be dogging her. More friends are made and the return of one of our favourite groups. Plus Alexa finally sees the dress