Katy. She's a Mathlete, and she plays in the marching band, and she sometimes sits with Alex in AP Physics, and she plays volleyball, which Alex thinks is really cool (she never used to, but lately, she thinks there's something vaguely impressive about it). And one time? One time, she asked Alex what the formula for torque was, even though Alex is, like, 99% sure she already knew it.

Faith never bothers with goodbyes, but she loves watching bridges burn. Fucking everything up makes it so much easier to walk away.

They've stolen her thief. They're all thieves, the lot of them, but he is hers and they have taken him, locked him up in his mind where she can't make him hear, and she will never forgive them for it.

Music: Interpol
Summary: I can't reach you.
Notes: Stream (Blip) | Download (Mediafire, ~55mb, .avi).

In which Mia has a very distressing thought, Tina is optimistic, Lana wants Mia to come shopping with her, and Michael and Boris are game.

River Song is the most dangerous criminal in this universe, the next, and several other nearby ones besides.

It wasn't like Annette didn't have dreams, or fond wishes, or whatever it was people went on about on the television programs. It was just that her dreams and wishes were a little simpler than most people's. She wished for things like a new curling iron, or a pair of jeans that didn't make her ass look fat, or that the little minus sign would come up instead of the plus.

summary: ...and sleep while I slip poison in your ear.
music: paris is burning. st. vincent.
size/format/length: 95MB, wmv, 3:15

Description: Love sucked, this Buffy was certain of (Life is a cheesy romance novel)
Song: "Lucky Me", Sarah Slean
Length: 3:00
Format: AVI (XVID)
Size: 47.4 MB (640x480)

Steamy painting, probably NSFW.

vid title: Devil Said
music: "Dirty Horse" from Gram Rabbit
source: Merlin BBC, King Arthur, and Mists of Avalon
duration: 2:49

Sunday morning and Donna Noble opened her front door armed with a hangover and a cup of coffee to find a small blonde woman wearing an astonished expression pointing a glowing, bleeping stick at Donna's chest.

“You're an impossible thing,” she breathed.

“Oh, bugger off.” Donna slammed the door in the woman's face.

It's amazing how the world rarely gets less complicated.

"I always feel so much more limber after lesbian sex," said Jane, stretching.

"I don't know why," Susan said snappishly. "It's not like you were doing anything anyway. You were just twiddling your fingers!"

"Susan," Jane said, smiling with a condescension that Susan herself would have been proud of. "That's what it's all about."

Pencil sketch, photographed and colored in Photoshop. NSFW.

Sexy sketch! NSFW.

It would not be strictly accurate to say it's an accident that they bump into each other. Accident implies, well, that Rose hadn't spent many fruitful hours on Google, clearing out her cache again and again so it isn't just one long line of donna noble, sarah jane smith, martha jones. It isn't stalking, she reasons. It's not like she's actually going to go to the hospital where Dr. Jones works, and when she does go, it's not like she's going to follow Martha around to get a sense of what exactly is so special here, and when she -- right, so maybe it is a little like stalking. She can't decide whether to blame the Doctor or Donna Noble.

Their names and their bodies have changed again, but that has never been how they recognise one another. Meg remembers a time when Ruby was shorter, her hips wider, dimples in her knees. She remembers a slash of red lips, a sleek helmet of jet-black hair, creamy skin and a mole on the soft inside of Ruby's elbow. She remembers scarred wrists and empty eyes; bodies so worn out and abused it was more trouble than it was worth trying to hold them together.

Source: Victor/Victoria, Tipping the Velvet, Twelfth Night, Sylvia Scarlett, Star Trek Voyager, Xena, She's The Man, Bound, Thelma & Louise, Buffy, Bionic Woman, Battlestar Galactica, Calamity Jane, Deadwood, DEBS, Women's Murder Club, Hex, The L Word etc

Julie knew things had a tendency of not magically sorting themselves out just because you hoped they would.

Lyla invited her to her birthday party once, when they were in fifth grade. It wasn't until Tyra got there, smiling, offering up the drugstore earrings wrapped in the comic papers, that she realized.

Conte crayons on white paper.

Serenity left with her.

Watercolour pencils on white paper.

“What? Like girls don’t wonder about these things also?

Cheetahs are fast, but not for all that long. Sarah can run almost as fast as a cheetah now. Can also hit prey hard, could scream like a falcon and crunch bone and blood and muscle between her jaws.

Sometimes, maybe it is Logopolis, after all.

In fact, it’s a game they play together at diners to pass the time–rating the waitresses who serve them while Sam stares at his laptop pretending he doesn’t have a dick.

Technically, they’ve done this before. At parties it can be okay to kiss another girl in Texas–if you’re drunk, and if your boyfriends are best friends, and if at least one of you is going to end up the right kind of wife. If you’re discreet.

"I'll have your leftovers," she says. "Tradition, right?" They both look down, and Buffy wonders why language was even invented. Words tricky, fists clear.

Feminism has its place in, like, life and history and stuff, but it's just not important when it comes to the derby.

"Oh, honey," Barb says, and she reaches over for Margie's hand and holds onto it, pressing her fingers tight into Margie's palm.

"B." A puff of air on the skin just above her hip. It isn't a caress.

It’s not done. Not by anyone she knows. I mean, they all know it exists, pretty much, but it seems like something people do on another planet. Another universe.

Turns out, the universe is small.