#freewaygirl

[monimccoythings]

You can tell a lot about someone by the type of music that they listen to, hit shuffle on your ipod, phone, itunes, media player, etc. and write down the first 10 songs. Then pass this on to 10 people, one rule: no skipping!

I was tagged by claudiafanofmanythings

1.-Building a Monster - Skylar Grey

2.-Love Psalm - Mary Elizabeth McGlynn

3.- Dulaman - Celtic Woman

4.- Miracle - Cascada

5.- My Blood - Ellie Goulding

6.- Rock and Roll - Avril Lavigne

7.- Let It Go - Idina Menzel

8.- How to be a Heartbreaker - Glee Cast

9.- Kick Ass (We Are Young) - Mika

10.- How You Remind Me - NickelBack

I tag

blancaxlobo

decimaregina

kelsey-rare

mischiefphoenix

rockingtheredhead

fartdemort

freewaygirl

kateebell3

rizienella

laughandwrite

[valiantsam]

Happy Birthday!

Thank you!!!

[soyeahso]

From freewaygirl "Sherlolly, arranged marriage modern times.

This turned into the start of what could be a much longer fic and I have like 20 million WIPs but I'm not mad.  It's fun.

_________

Molly Hooper had started her career working in one of the five DynaMatch labs in London, analyzing gene sequences and adding her findings to the enormous DNA database.  Once a person’s profile was entered into the system, they were matched by algorithm with the person most likely to produce the healthiest offspring. DynaMatch had originally been founded as a matchmaking service, but when the island’s population had been decimated in the most recent wars, the government had commandeered the service, and what had been voluntary became compulsory. 

The powers that be weren’t just interested in creating a nation of test tube babies, however.  Their goal was to restore UK to its former glory via a resurgence of the “traditional” family unit. Marriage with your genetic match was as compulsory as procreation. 

After the takeover, Molly had managed to move into research, with a team dedicated to discovering ways to increase fertility in the population, an issue since the Chemical Blitz. As the leader of her team, she always imagined she was so invaluable that she would escape a forced marriage, her mind being more important to her country than her body’s ability to have babies.

She was wrong.

On a beautiful morning in September, a rare day off, one which she’d planned to spend outdoors, since it was actually sunny, Molly sat at her kitchen table with a cold cup of tea, staring at the official document in her shaking hands.

Her presence was required at her district magistrate’s office at 0900 a week from tomorrow.  There, she would be lawfully wed to one W. Holmes, a match that would result in “the strongest of offspring and the brightest of futures for the Kingdom.”

Molly’s cat hopped up onto the table and butted her hand with his head, rousing Molly from her stupor. She patted him before shooing him to the floor, then opened her laptop.

She had access to the DynaMatch database, but she didn’t want to log a search unless absolutely necessary, so she started with the Internet and a search of all of the single men over eighteen named W. Holmes in the UK. Plural marriage not fitting into the government’s definition of traditional family units, matches were limited to one per person, and individuals were not tested until they reached their majority.

There were over a hundred hits, ranging in age from twenty to seventy-six.  She looked out the window at the brilliantly blue sky and decided she could at least work from her balcony if she couldn’t go to the park.

After she had pulled up photos and news clippings on several of the men, she suddenly shut her laptop.

“What am I doing?” she asked herself.  If she had to go through with this, did it really matter whether it were a twenty year old dock worker or a septuagenarian former barrister?  Shouldn’t she be devoting her energy to finding some way to get out of it all together?  There had to be some loophole.  As she redirected her search to find an answer, her doorbell rang.  She looked down off the balcony onto the street, where a tall, dark haired man waited. 

“May I help you?” she called down.  He looked up, presenting her with a smile and one of the most interesting faces she had ever seen. 

“Yes,” he said.  “M. Hooper, I presume?”

[onceinabluemoon13]

11 Questions

11 questions

I was tagged by superduper-who-lock

Rule 1: Always post the rules.

Rule 2: Answer the questions of the person who tagged you and write 11 new ones.

Rule 3: Tag 11 people and link them to the post.

Rule 4: Let them know you’ve tagged them.

My Questions:  1. Favorite Color? 

Probably light pink or aqua. I can never choose between the two. 2. Hardest thing you have ever done? 

I gave a speech at graduation (I was valedictorian). I barely remember it, I was so nervous. 3. In the one day inevitable war of the fandoms. Which fandom will you fight for? (You can only pick one, no double agents)

Sherlock. No question. :) 4. If you had to dye your hair, what color would you dye it? 

I've always wanted a pink streak in my hair. Does that count? 5. Favorite song? 

At the moment, Love Song Requiem by Trading Yesterday. Ask me tomorrow, heck ask me in an hour, I'll probably tell you something different. 6. Board Games, Online games, or Console games? 

Probably board games. I have a lot of memories of family game nights. 7. Would you rather read Fanifiction or be able to watch Fanfiction?

Read. I always prefer books to movies. :) 8. Do you prefer Christmas or Thanksgiving?

Christmas, although I feel bad that Thanksgiving always gets overlooked. 9. What do you want to do for a living? 

Forensic DNA analyst! (I'm a nerd. I have a degree in Biochemistry). 10. Laptop or Desktop computer? 

As I am completing this on my laptop, I would have to go with laptop. (She has a tendency to rebel if she thinks I'm not appreciating her) 11. How many followers do you have? (Sorry ran out of ideas about what do ask)

90

Tagged:

freewaygirl

buffyslaysedward

tattered-trinket

elementarymydear-doctor

untzin-around-the-bootiebutt

brittanyofthejulii

corpse-grl

lalala-quesadillas

ishallcallhimsherlawk

canibecandid

theunderdogfan

My Questions:

(Sorry I've never done one of these before, but I will try)

1. Which fandoms are you in? (If you are in a lot, list your top 3)

2. OTP? BrOTP?

3. If you had a million dollars, what would you do with it?

4. What was your favorite subject in school?

5. Favorite actor?

6. Favorite actress?

7. Do you prefer television or movies?

8. Can you cook, and, if so, what is your favorite thing to cook?

9. What is your favorite season?

10. What was your favorite show growing up?

11. What is your favorite book?

(It won't offend me if you guys choose not to participate, but I would love to learn more about you!)

[potemkinx]

Hey :) what about this prompt: Sherlock and Molly are on the run together, Molly suffers from the memories of her last encounter with Moriarty (or Moran). Sherlock comforts her and tries to protect her

Sherlock could hear her tossing and turning in the bed. He could hear her weeping so softly, like she didn’t want to disturb him. Like her tears were not important. How wrong was she.

He knew he had been selfish: dragging her away from her home, from her job, to help him in a mission that should be his, and his alone, wasn’t fair. First, because he knew that she could not help it, that impulse to protect him, like her involvement in his “death” had already proved; and then, because it was dangerous. Too dangerous, like last night had showed him.

Moran had not hurt her, physically. Well, not like he had feared, the moment he saw the clues and understood that the Colonel had Molly. She had a few cuts, a large bruise on her left arm…the sign of his fingers still clear on her skin. He had done something more subtle: he had used his words, to make her suffer more deeply. Moriarty had been a good teacher: he knew exactly where to hit, to cause the deeper pain. Sherlock Holmes didn’t need to ask her what Sebastian Moran told her: he could see it in her eyes, he could hear it in her sighs. He had only repeated to her what she already told to herself: that she was useless, disposable. That she din’t really count.

After Moran left her, practically unharmed, and Mycroft’s men rescued her and brought her back to him, the consulting detective decided that the best course was to let her elaborate everything alone. After all, it would be what he would do…what he had done every time.

A sob, a loud one, was the final straw to his resolve to leave her alone. Sherlock approached the door of her bedroom, and heard her whisper. “Leave me alone. Please.”

"No"

"I’m sorry if I woke you up, I will try to-"

"Stop it. No more apologies from you, Molly". He found the bed, and sat down. Then, he started to talk. He recounted to her his most important cases; he rattled off the muscles, the bones, the ligaments of the human body; he recited the periodic table. She let his voice lull her to sleep; like the sound of thunders, it helped to calm her down.

When he was sure she was safely asleep, he allowed himself to brush her forehead with his lips. “Alone doesn’t protect you. I do, and I will never stop…never doubt it, Molly” he murmured, before deciding to lie down with her.

A bit short, I know…but I hope you like it!

Irene

[theprivatelifeofsherlockholmes]

freewaygirl replied to your post: This is the end, hold you...

But that sounds a bit like progress :) So there’s progress and whenever you will show it to us I’ll be on board (to be honest: the cliffhanger was really great!)

Oh, thank you :) You're too sweet!

[theprivatelifeofsherlockholmes]

freewaygirl replied to your post “-sniff sniff- vows of discretion? -sniffle-”

Oh, don't be disappointed. You'll find a way to finish the chapter just follow what your heart and you'll find a way to write the chapter :) All my best wishes go out to you :)

Thank you! <3

[sincerelydayyy]

freewaygirl replied to your post: I stood up for myself today.

You did well! Being silent and calm does not solve any problems

Yeah, I know. I've never really done that before either because of how quiet I am. I don't really like causing scenes either but...it was hard today. I can tolerate so much, for so long, you know.