Newest addition to DariaWiki: The Nova Valdris Accords, from Brother Grimace.
- Fade, This Is Not Hell, and Dark Siren, by thatLONERchick (COMPLETE!): Three short stories in one post, and they are good!
- Iron Chef: No Tom, by several authors (continued): Lots of new ideas (and old) here, worth a look for some fun.
- Lawndale's Finest: The Dark Knight, by NightGoblyn (Chapter 2, Part 3): Angela Li’s eyes opened in the darkness and she knew that she was not alone. The bedroom window was open, its screen missing. She sat up in bed and something moved in the darkness, a shape that was a little darker than the unlight of the room. The shape was vaguely human. “Who are you? What do you want?”
- The Night Series: Curtain Call, by thatLONERchick: "Next," she called without preamble and the girl, right in the middle of belting out Tonight, fell silent as abruptly as though someone had switched off a radio. Mr. Doug, English teacher and Director of the play frowned briefly before consulting his clipboard. He crossed out a name before going down to the next line. "Jane Lane reading for Anita." (FF.net)
- Size Does Matter, by BlackHole (Part 39): “Got ’em cheaper. Half of ’em are from yesterday.” Trent said before Jane could launch a complaint about him spending money on doughnuts. Jane gladly accepted, her sugar level running low. “Trent, they don’t sell stuff from the day before.” “They do, if you know people.”(SFMB)
- Straight, Not Narrow, continued by Angelboy: Michael 'Mack' Mackenzie leaned against his locker, watching the new girl talking with Jane Lane. True she wasn't much to look at, but there was something about her to that really drew his attention. Jane was no slouch in getting his attention either. Unfortunately, he was too scared to stand out as a straight black man in a homosexual white school.
- Things Fall Apart, by Doggieboy (Part 6): By the time Bradley Buzzcut reached Highland High School with Beavis and Butt-Head in tow, he had a following of five zombies. The gym teacher was slowed somewhat by the extra weight he carried, but he still kept ahead of his undead pursuers. As they moved, even more dead from both sides and behind moved to intercept them. “Dammit, Butt-Head,” he said to the wounded boy, “those things must smell your blood!”