meeeeeeeeeeeeeme!

[meretricula]

because the cool kids are doing it. and if aramley told me to jump off a bridge, well. I would assume she had a valid reason.

Post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous.

this is not going to be all that entertaining because one of my favorite parts of writing fics is coming up with titles. so almost everything has a title. oh well. (also I am not posting the stuff in my "fics I am not currently writing" folder because honestly I'm not currently writing much but that shit is from high school. some of it's probably from middle school, tbh. it's beyond abandoned.)

30 romances themes.txt
50 lovequotes themes.txt
101 kisses themes.txt
derivative
echoes of indian summer
ficbits (this is where I stick random commentfic or ramblings so I won't lose them)
ficmeme (someday, I swear, I'll write the rest of them)
five teammates francesca fabregas never had.rtf
love is a rhythm (you are the music).rtf
musical titles (this is not fic, it is from my pretentious phase [haha "phase" implies you're over it looooool] when I liked the idea of writing fic to fit with the movements of pieces of music and started collecting likely titles, though looking at it hey suite populaire espagnole would be pretty fun as a football fic NO STOP THIS HIPSTER CRAP VERONICA)
signal prequel dialogue (oh god just looking at this makes me feel guilty)
sings the revolution.rtf
what little girls are made of.rtf (the first conception of sings the revolution)
where only your thoughts have been.rtf

ask if you're curious about any of them, I will tell you what they are/post a snippet it you like!

Comments

[meretricula.livejournal.com]

haha basically my writing process goes: hear a song --> listen to lyrics --> find a line you like --> omg must write a fic so that can be the title. it's a little sad. XD

echoes of indian summer is actually posted here (http://www.livejournal.com/tools/memories.bml?user=meretricula&keyword=Echoes%20of%20Indian%20Summer&filter=all), as much as I've written - it was an experiment to try and write fic for all the tracks of my favorite Carbon Leaf albums, Echo Echo and Indian Summer. I only ended up writing three of them, though. =/ man, I wish I had gotten around to writing the House/Cuddy/Wilson threesome for Mary Mac before I stopped watching House and probably got irreversibly Jossed. gah, I still love that song.
mary and her mother gang an awful lot together
in fact you hardly see the one without the other
and the lads often wonder if it's mary or her mother
or both of them together that I'm courting (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FmEbbJ0c5xw)

and love is a rhythm is the tennis orchestra AU, so I've sort of posted a bit of that (http://meretricula.livejournal.com/161980.html#cutid1) too, haha. here's what little I have written since then:

"Nobody ever can make you look bad," Rafa said, apparently sincere. Novak blushed again. "Anyway," Rafa added, a little hurriedly, "you have nice summer also?"

"Yeah, um, it was good. Spent time with my brothers, so. Didn't practice as much as I should have." Novak strummed lightly across his strings to check their tuning. His C had slipped a little, and of course he'd forgotten to rewrap it before rehearsal, so it was a bitch to manhandle the peg back into tune. Rafa was quiet until he finished, then did a quick check on his own strings. Naturally, they were perfectly in tune.

"Good to see you didn't fall off the stage getting to your new seat," a very familiar voice remarked, as equally familiar arms snaked around Novak's neck. Novak rolled his eyes, but he was grinning too.

"Well, we can't all stay in the back of the orchestra forever, Maria," he said. "Someone has to take the risk and sit closer to the edge."

"I don't think you're in any real danger," she said dryly, squeezing a little before she let him go. "You'd have to get through the conductor for any chance of a tumble."

"Who's tumbling where? Are we talking about the circus, or did Nole get laid over the summer?" Ana bounced over, flute in hand, and dropped into Vik's chair. Out in the audience seats where most of the orchestra was leaving their cases, Novak could see his stand partner sigh and sit down to wait for the arrival of their conductor to make Ana go back to the wind section where she belonged.

"Well, since he's apparently still a blushing virgin where our illustrious principal cellist is concerned - " Maria began.

"Masha, shut up," Novak hissed.

"What? Flavia just showed up, he's not paying any attention to us." Novak snuck a glance over at the cellists, where Rafa was indeed chattering excitedly with his stand partner, both of them waving their hands so much it was a miracle they hadn't brained each other with their bows. "And anyway this whole shy act is getting old. You need to make a move soon, or else Roger's going to get him after all."

"If Roger really wanted him he'd have him by now, just like everything else Roger wants in life," Novak said morosely. "It's not like I can exactly compete with being concertmaster, top of the class and on a full scholarship even though he's rich enough that he doesn't need it."

"And I like Mirka," Ana added, frowning at Maria. "You shouldn't talk like she doesn't exist."

Maria rolled her eyes. "You're ridiculous," she told Ana. She sounded mostly affectionate, though, which was a relief. Novak hated it when his friends fought. It was bad enough that he couldn't talk to Jelena in public anymore since she'd had that argument with Ana last semester.

LJ is being a jerk with comment limits, will post the rest in a sec. XD

[meretricula.livejournal.com]

sings the revolution is my cornerflag fic! so you have seen it, though I guess I've updated that post a bit in the interim. random scene:

IMAGE DESC. Two men, one middle aged, one much younger, both wearing FC Barcelona scarves, jumping to their feet in the stands of a football stadium. They are surrounded by fans in red and white. A dark-haired woman wearing an Arsenal jersey, still seated, is dragging at the sleeve of the younger man; her other hand is over her eyes.

VOICE-OVER.
INT: So I was going through footage of the 2006 Champions League final and I found something -

FF: Oh, wow.

INT: So that is you?

FF: Wow, that's amazing. I can't believe somebody - well, I guess it probably looked pretty funny, even if they didn't recognize us. Yeah, that - wow. That's crazy.

INT: So, 2006 -

FF: Yeah (laughter). Yeah, it's funny, you know, because I look so - gosh, I look pissed, don't I? If Barça had scored against anybody else in that final, you know - I mean, my whole family, we're Barcelona fans, my granddad brought me and my brother to the stadium when we were babies, I've been a socio since birth. And Leo Messi's one of my best friends, I was really happy for him. But that was my brother down there on the pitch, you know? That was my team. And then (laughter) I was sitting with Geri Pique and his dad, and - Geri is Carlos's best friend, so Carlos got us the tickets, so we were sitting with the Arsenal fans. And Geri's a great guy, you know, I've known him since we were eleven or something, he's fantastic, even if he is a fucking Manc, excuse my language. But him and his dad, you cut open a vein, they'd bleed blaugrana, they didn't care who was sitting around them. I was afraid we were going to get lynched.

I am ridiculous~~~ haha anyway. looking forward to seeing what you've got! :D

[aramley.livejournal.com]

THERE IS NOTHING I DON'T LOVE ABOUT THIS FIC. NOTHING. <33333

[meretricula.livejournal.com]

:DD