*whispering*

I have an idea for a Tom and Claire story(you remember Tom and Claire, the ones who started my whole Magnus addiction)…

It would most likely be a multi-chapter…

is there anyone out there who would be interested in one in the next month or so?

detektivmartinsson whispered:
16

detektivmartinsson:

rebeckalindahl:

16 : )

He didn’t want to be there.  He was exhausted.  There was a case, but there was always a case. And she had tried to be understanding, but it was hard sometimes.  She wanted him to be a part of it, she wanted him to really care, not just care because she cared.  Everyone she knew told her she was so lucky, he wasn’t one of those men who talked incessantly about himself, about his job, he was in fact, the opposite of those men.  He rarely talked about himself. And he hardly ever talked about his job, except sometimes late at night or very early in the morning when they were lying together and he was relaxed and close to sleep.  Then he would tell her about something that was bothering him and she would smooth her hands over his skin. 

But today he was exhausted. And she had dragged him to this photographer’s studio and she was sitting close to him looking at every single picture the man had to show her. 

Every. Single. Picture.

He tried not to sigh, he tried not to roll his eyes as he looked through book after book of pictures of strangers in wedding clothes.

“Oh, Magnus, look at this one.  I love this one!” Rebecka said excitedly.  Magnus laconically looked over at the book she was looking at, the picture of a groom holding onto a brides waist.  He nodded his head and went back to his book as the photographer made a note in a notebook.

This wasn’t really his thing.

“Magnus?  Did you like that one?”  she asked him.

The photographer seemed to sense that they needed a moment, and he excused himself and left them in the room together.

“It’s…it was fine, Bec.”

“Magnus, I need your help.  Come on,” she said as she leaned into him.

“What?  I’m helping!  I’m here, I’m…” he gestured to the stack of wedding albums they had already looked through and the stack that they still had to get to.  He sighed heavily.

Rebecka’s lips went tight as she looked at him.  She knew he was tired, she knew he wanted to be at home in his sleeping pants with the refrigerator full so he could cook anything he wanted at any time, he wanted to be on the sofa, with a beer and a movie and his hand down Rebecka’s shirt, inside her bra just touching her breast.  That is what he wanted.  And she knew it.  But it was getting close, so close to the wedding and they still had details to wrap up, like, what kind of pictures they wanted from the photographer.

“Dammit Magnus.  If we can just get this done we can go home and you can…just…cooperate with me, please…”

“I am cooperating Rebecka!” he said defensivly.

“No, you’re not…”

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” he said raising his voice, his eyes growing large at having to fight with her in a photographer’s studio when all he wanted was to be home. 

“I’m looking…at page after page of these people’s weddings, their lives and they are meaningless to me!  All I can see is a stupid look on a strangers face or, or, or…” he flipped through a book and found a picture of a bridal party all jumping in the air, “or these assholes, they look like idiots, on their wedding.  The most important day of their lives and they look like complete fools!  I hate this shit.  I have to do this shit at work, dig through piles of meaningless crap!  And I hate this!”

He was yelling by the end and Rebecka put her hand on his arm.  She hadn’t meant to push him, she just wanted his help.

“Magnus…”

“No Bec, you wanted me to cooperate, well there.  I hate this.  I hate this…this…making such a big deal about getting married and then doing stupid shit.”

“Well, then what do you like?” she asked him, exasperated.

Magnus flipped angrily through a book, not saying a word until he got to a picture, a very soft picture of  rings, tied together with  a soft ribbon.  He thrust his finger at the picture.

“THIS.  I like this.  This means something, not to me and you because it’s not our rings but if it were our rings,” he grabbed at her hand and turned it to show her her ring, “it means something.”

Rebecka swallowed hard as she saw the exhaustion in his eyes.  Her hand reached to hold his face and soothe him.  He softened under her hand.

She looked down at the picture and she smiled.  “You like details, and no silliness, and… it will be about us Magnus…I’m sorry, I’m sorry I dragged you here…”

She leaned in to kiss him and he was still a little bristly, she smiled against his lips as the photographer came back in.

“Okay, so Magnus likes this kind of thing, we want details as well as wide shots so his hands, my hands, the flowers and food, his mother and my parents…details…”  she said trying to articulate what she wanted.

The photographer flipped through a particular book, one they wouldn’t have gotten to for hours and he showed them some images of weddings just like she was describing.  They were more personal, more meaningful and Magnus calmed down as he looked over them.

“Yes, this,” he said slipping his hand into Rebecka’s.

“Then this is what I’ll do.”  She had chosen the right photographer, he knew just what to say.

Rebecka and Magnus left the studio and went to the store, stocking up on all the supplies they would need for a weekend at home, no more appointments no more wedding planning.  Just Magnus and Rebecka on the sofa, with his hand in her shirt, under her bra, her breast held lightly, and a smile on both of their faces.

((Thank you darling, that was fun!))

PERFECT

image

Weddings || two-part drabble

detektivmartinsson:

[ As per usual, this is the first half of a drabble, anyone is welome to reblog with the second half. ]

He must have been drunk. He was certain that he was drunk. Because when this beautiful woman started talking to him he wasn’t nervous, he wasn’t panicked as to what to say to her.

"So, you on the grooms side or the bride?"

"The groom." He said to her, smiling. 

They shouted that they were going to throw the bouquet and there was a scramble, Magnus looked at the woman beside him, who didn’t move.

"You’re not heading over?"

She smiled at him and then she stumbled as one of the bridesmaids almost ran over her to get in line for the throwing of the bouquet, spilling her champagne all over his suit and she was gasping. 

"Oh I’m so sorry… I should… we should get that cleaned up…" 

"I think we should too." He said, leaning in slightly as he staggered, his lips nearly touching hers. She smiled, her eyes lingering down to his lips. She knew he was drunk and he was smiling along with her as she nodded her head.

"Back room."

Rebecka had to fight the urge to hold him, she had to fight the urge to just take his lips with hers right there.  His suit didn’t matter, she would take it to the cleaners in the morning…or in the afternoon, as the case may be.  It wasn’t his best suit, just a suit to wear to a colleagues wedding. Not like the suit he would be wearing in a couple of months for their wedding, the suit that she had picked out and had tailored to his body, unbeknownst to him.  She had used Ansgar, had him go in for the fitting, their measurements were the same…he didn’t know the extent of it, he only knew she had taken care of his suit.

His lips almost touched hers as he stumbled and she caught him, taking his hand in hers and leading him through the people on the dance floor and at the tables to a small hallway that led to a dimly lit room.  She had to side step him once on the dance floor as he went to hold her waist, to pull her against him, the exact thing they had agreed they were NOT going to do.

Rebecka closed the door softly and he was on her, his hands on the small of her back, pulling her closer to him as his mouth covered hers and he moaned into her.

“Megnis…” she mumbled against his lips.  He persisted.  “MEEEGGNIS!”  It was a rare that she would ever stop him kissing her, but they had agreed.  It was two months until the wedding, they had agreed to stop…to not have sex until their wedding day…it was not an easy thing for either Magnus nor Rebecka.  It was further complicated by them being at a wedding, the very event they were hurtling toward, the end of sorts for them…but also the new beginning.  That’s why they were abstaining.  A beginning, a very exciting beginning….

But here in this small darkened room, with Magnus’ body pushed up against her and his insistent lips begging her for more… it seemed like a very stupid idea.

The had decided, however, and a slightly drunken evening was not the time to go back on that.

“Oh Bec, come on…take this suit off me.  God, I miss you so much. I ache…every morning and every night and every time in between…ache…”

Rebecka was holding him, her hands running through his hair as she listened to him.  She missed him too.  It was killing her to wake up every morning without him, to know that he was just down the hall, sleeping on his stomach, his bare back only partially covered by the clean white sheets.

He kissed her again and this time she waivered, moaning into him.  She wanted him as much as he wanted her.

“Come on…” he coaxed, bending his knees and hunching his long body to be closer to her face.  “What if we pretend we don’t know each other, like we were doing out there, what if…” he moved his hand to her face, cupping her jaw, “what if you are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen in all my life, and for some unknown reason you find me attractive…”

Rebecka was giggling, playing deftly with the buttons on his dress shirt,  as he held her close, as he created an elaborate story, only so that they could feel each other again.  He kissed her, his lips almost possessing an electric shock as they moved on hers.

“And I charm you into coming home with me…and we…just tonight…Oh god, all night, and then we sleep in each other’s arms and then….and then I make you breakfast in the morning, breakfast in bed, and I’ll feed you…”  He would have gone on in his desperation but Rebecka stopped him.

She pressed her lips to his, opening her mouth to let his tongue enter and caress hers.  He pulled her closer, more needy, and they heard a cheer go up from the ballroom down the hall, the bouquet obviously having been caught by an eager bridesmaid or partygoer.  Rebecka looked in that direction and when she looked back, Magnus was smirking down at her.

“So why weren’t you out there with the other young eligible women?” he asked her as his hand slid up her back.

She touched his lips and smiled at him.  “I have a feeling I am soon to be taken…I don’t need a superstition or a used bouquet…”

Magnus smiled.  “Soon to be taken indeed…I’m Magnus, by the way…”

“And I’m-,”

Magnus cut her off, “Mine…gorgeous…an angel…”

“Bec, just Bec,” she said as she rubbed his chest.

“There is nothing ‘just’ about you…Bec…” and he looked into her eyes, his own clear blue eyes dark with desire.  “That’s a beautiful name, Bec.”  He said it as if it were sacred.

“A man who loved me very much gave me that name…I’m his Bec…”

“Yes, you are.”  There was another loud cheer that went up from the ballroom, but Magnus didn’t notice.  “He’s a lucky man,” and he lifted her up and held her against the wall, her legs wrapping around his waist as she held onto him and kissed him.

She had agreed to this little game without any hesitation.

“Can I take you home?  Maybe…see if I can experience a little taste of what this lucky man has…”

Rebecka was chuckling and nodding as he put her down, and he was opening the door to the little room and walking out with her through all of the people and the noise.  When they got to the car he was holding her around the waist and leaning down to try to kiss her.

“You had better drive ‘Bec’, I think I’m a little drunk,” he said as he leaned against the car and pulled her into him.

Rebecka kissed him and smiled, taking the keys from his hand.

“Shall I give you directions?” he asked cheekily.

“No, I know the way,” she said as she pulled away. 

“Yes, yes you do,” he said as he winked at her and slid into the passenger seat.

 It would only be one night, and then they had two months, but they needed that night, and the next morning, waking up with her body resting on his,  breakfast in bed…and two more months until they could do this again.

As he fed her a bite of French toast the next morning, he wasn’t sure he could hold out for two more months, but as her lips closed around the forkful of toast, he thought he was damn well gonna try.

ladytron2000 whispered:
"lock & key" was beautiful & poignant, but tres sad! where is that fence?

IKR!  It’s a fence on a bridge across the Seine in Paris. The city is actually talking about banning the love locks as a nuissance.  I have very mixed feeling about it.  It think it’s a beautiful idea but understand how it does change the view from the bridge.. Here is the article if you are interested. 

http://www.theguardian.com/travel/2014/mar/31/campaign-paris-love-locks-banned

Thanks  for reading!  ♥

enchantedbyhiddles whispered:
The oneshot was mean, but absolutely beautiful. It made me cry. Thank you for a lovely story!

AWWW!!!  I’m so sorry!!  It’s not finished if that is any consolation. Magnus and Rebecka are never finished.  Never.

Thank you for reading.  I made myself cry too (though I blamed Halma!)

Here is some dancing Tom to make it better!♥

Almost

Detektivmartinsson posted

My character vanishes one day. About a year later your character spots them out in public with a baby! How does your character react?

Rebecka’s heart stopped.  All of the blood in her body seemed to drain to her hands and feet, pooling there as she stood frozen looking at him, at a ghost, at a dead man, a dead man who wasn’t dead at all. 

She was far enough away from him so that he didn’t see her, he didn’t notice this tired looking red haired woman, staring at him, in anguish and joy and fear and disbelief. 

It had been a year, the longest year of Rebecka’s life and her face and body wore the scars of it.  She no longer slept, not like she did before, and she was well under 100 lbs.  She had never big a big person but now she was simply skin and bones. 

Behind the dark circles and hollow cheeks, her green eyes and full lips were the only things that remained even remotely similar to what she had looked like before, with him.  Her golden hair was gone, now replaced by a short auburn style that bore no resemblance to who she had been, to who he had loved.

  And yet she was herself, or at least she was parts of herself, the parts of herself that she had been able to salvage after he had disappeared.

Disappeared.

Vanished.

Presumed dead though no body had ever been found.

But here he was.  Not dead.  Very much alive as he held the small little one in his arms.  Rebecka watched in despair as he talked to the child, as he made silly faces and the baby in his arms laughed and grabbed at his face.  She couldn’t stop the tears from flowing down her cheeks as she watched him, frozen in her spot.

Magnus.  Not dead, not a ghost, but here, right here in front of her, almost close enough for her to touch him.

Rebecka’s feet moved two steps closer to him, and she wiped away at her tears, carefully preserving the makeup she was wearing.  She wanted to reach out, she wanted to call out to him…but she was paralyzed.  She took another two steps, the people around her parting for her as she moved ever closer to him.

“Magnus…” she whispered.  He couldn’t hear her amidst all of the noise of the marketplace.  Two more steps.  “Magnus…”

He looked up from talking to the baby in his arms and his eyes met hers.  Rebecka smiled, her heart nearly completely mended in her chest at being held in his gaze after all this time, after all she had been through.  It was short lived however. He smiled tursly at her, polite, but no recognition in his eyes.  She stopped and swallowed hard.  He didn’t know her.  The smile evaporated from her face as he looked back down at the baby, and when a small dark haired woman approached him and put one hand on his back and one hand on the babies back, whatever was left of her heart was broken, irreparably.  

Magnus raised his eyes brows at the small woman and leaned down to kiss her cheek and Rebecka nearly fell backwards, stumbling into someone who barked out gruff words about watching what she was doing.  He released the baby into the arms of the other woman and then looked back up at Rebecka, who hadn’t stopped staring at him.  He furrowed his brow and moved toward Rebecka.

“Can I help you?” he asked as if she were a stranger.  The words wouldn’t come out, they wouldn’t leave her throat.  “Miss?  Are you…can I help you with something?” and all Rebecka could do was shake her head.  She tried to mumble  his name but no sound would come out of her mouth.

Another man bumped into her again and she was knocked to the side, further from him, as the crowd closed in and he was moving away from her, she was being moved away from him.  He turned back to the dark haired woman and Rebecka said his name, he heard her, but he didn’t turn around.  And then Rebecka was pushed away, and he was gone, swallowed up by the crowd of people in the busy market. 

He was a ghost, he must have been a ghost, or she was losing what was left of her mind.  He didn’t know her, but Magnus had promised to love her always, even after death…it couldn’t have been him. Couldn’t.

Rebecka turned and walked back to her car, driving home to her empty house, all the doors and windows closed and locked tight.  He was a ghost in the market place, but here in their home…she could still feel him, he was still here…he was still hers.

At the marketplace,Viktor turned to his co worker and friend, her sweet baby in her arms. 

“Thank you for holding her, I had to go check on that,” she said to him.

“Yeah, no, it’s no problem, she’s a good egg.  Hey, there was a woman just now…did you see her?  She was looking at me.  I…I think I should know who she is… but I…I can’t remember.”  He looked at his friend, the pain he always felt, sharper now.  There was an emptiness inside him and the doctors all said it would go away in time, even if the memories didn’t come back, but now standing in the market, crowds all around him, it was worse than ever before.  “Her eyes…she had green eyes…”and his voice trailed off. 

His friend hooked her arm in his and pulled him away.  She had seen him struggle like this before.  It hurt to see him trying to remember the old life that he couldn’t remember.

“Come on, Talia wants ice cream, ice cream always makes everything better,” she said as she pulled him away.

But he looked back.  Her eyes, they were like the eyes he saw in his dreams, only those eyes were surrounded by long golden hair and most beautiful wide smile he had ever seen.

 Her eyes.

So close to remembering…and yet so far.

“Ice cream, yes…ice cream…” he said as he turned away from the crowd and walked with his friend and her baby to get ice cream.

rogue347 whispered:
I'm sorry you're having a difficult time, I hope writing Lock and Key was somehow cathartic for you. I needed a good cleansing cry myself tonight. *hug*

Thank you Darling!  It’s just a hell weekend, but I made it through today, I got something written (Lock and Key) that wasn’t about Magnus and Rebecka (A MIRACLE!!!) Now I just have to make through tomorrow late afternoon and then I can relax!!!

Thank you for the hug, sending one right back at you.  I may have my cry tomorrow night when everything is done and I can stop worrying about it!!  I hope the rest of your weekend is better!

Lock and Key

She turned the key round and round in her fingers, end over end, looking at the shining metal, never used, never even tested.  It was never supposed to be used.  They said it was never going to be used, they said it was forever, but perhaps everyone says that.  Everyone thinks that this will be the one, the love they have been waiting for, the love they will fight for.  Everyone thinks that, when they start.  That’s what makes it so exciting, the beginning.  Anything and everything can happen.

Read More

TAGS:
#writing #truth
A writer is a world trapped in a person.
Victor Hugo (via post-traumatic-apathy)

(Source: maxkirin)

When He Misses Her

It was strange,  he didn’t even really know he did it.  It wasn’t until after an argument with Kurt that he was made aware of it.  

They were sitting at the conference table, going over details.  There had been yelling and storming off, but now things had calmed down.  They were ready to get back to work and get on with it having blown off some steam.

 It was what Wallander did.  Some days it was easier to take than others.  Today though, Magnus had snapped back.  It was a lot of pressure, and he missed her, though she had only been gone 2 days.

"And…w-why are you always- always doing that?" Kurt said, still annoyed, his staccato voice ringing out in the office.

 Magnus looked over at him innocently, no idea what he was talking about.  Magnus didn’t even need to say a word for Kurt to go on.

"The…the thing, that thing…you’re doing it right now…" Kurt raised his eyebrows at the younger detective.  The tension skyrocketed in the room, Anne-Britt looking at Magnus, nearly begging him to let it go.

Magnus’ hand moved away from his face, his mouth open, no words even in his own defense, he had no idea what Wallander was talking about.  He looked to Anne-Britt and then Nyberg, neither of them any help.

"I…wh…" Magnus stammered.  He couldn’t even defend himself against the exhausted, bitter man to his right.  He finally shrugged and his fingers went back to his lips, stroking lightly, gently ghosting over the slightly chapped skin.

"There!  That!  You touch…" and Wallander shook his head.  Anne-Britt touched Wallanders arm, the older man wheeling on her.

"Kurt, I think we’re done here.  Let’s all, we should go home," she looked at her watch and rolled her eyes.  "I was supposed to be home and hour ago."  She patted Kurt’s arm and the older man agreed, looking back at Martinsson, and shaking his head.  He wasn’t sure what it was about the younger man that sometimes set him off.  He would feel guilty about it later as he sat in his chair, his glass of wine empty at his side.

Magnus looked up and around, like a child, unsure of what had just happened but not wanting to question the decision to go home.  He could call her when he got home.  She had said she was staying in, having pizza with her parents and sister and nieces, maybe they could watch a movie together on skype, or just talk, or just look at each other…he didn’t care.

Everyone stood up and Wallander walked away, in desperate need of a shower and a meal, though he probably wouldn’t have either and Magnus looked at Hoglund.

"What did I…?"

"Nothing, nothing, you just, you touch your lips sometimes, you run your fingers over them and your jaw…and I guess Kurt… you know how he is," she said with a sympathetic smile.

"I-I do? I mean, I know how Kurt is but I…" Magnus said, his fingers moving to his lips without his knowledge that they were doing so.

Hoglund smiled and nodded, pointing to it happening again.

Magnus made a face and pulled his fingers away.  ”I guess..hmmmm…” he said, looking at his own rough fingers.

"How long is Rebecka gone?" Anne-Britt asked as they walked back to their offices to get things together to leave.

"Till tomorrow…she’ll be back…tomorrow, um, night." 

Anne-Britt looked at him and smiled a knowing smile that left Magnus even more perplexed.  ”Night Magnus, tell her I said hello, and hurry back, before you drive Kurt crazy.”

Magnus frowned at her and said, “It’s not my fault…” but she was gone.  Magnus grumbled to himself as he shut down his computer and straightened all of the files so that they would be ready for him in the morning.

When he got home he called her, smiling at seeing her pretty face, relaxed and content in her childhood bedroom.

"There you are," Magnus whispered, more to himself that to her.  Rebecka reached out to the computer screen and traced his lips with her fingertips, as if she could touch them; feel them like she did when she was with him.  As if she was touching them with her fingers in anticipation of kssing him.

Magnus reached up and touched his own lips, at that moment realizing both why he did it and why it made Wallander so angry.  It was how she touched him, and he had been away from her for two long days.  Two days of nothing but work and coffee and cold food…but he comforted himself the way she would comfort him if she were here.  It was a small thing, but it was theirs, it was hers.

Magnus let out a genuine chuckle and looked down, his sweet face lighting up with the realization.

"I miss you Bec.  You better hurry back; Wallander can’t take much more of it…"

Rebecka made a face.  ”Wallander?  Why does he care…” she was confused.

"A long story and I REALLY don’t want to talk about Wallander…" he looked up and into her eyes, smiling.

 She would be home tomorrow night.  

"Tell me about your day," he said as he snuggled back into the bed.

Over my Head | Bec

detektivmartinsson:

Rebecka hadn’t told him about work, about how she had been hit on the head from some files in the archives room, she didn’t think it would matter and when they were home and he was making dinner, truthfully it was out of her mind as well. But she supposed she should have told someone about it. 

She turned on the bed, feeling something underneath her and Rebecka blinked awake to be looking at a very detailed tattoo on the back of a muscular man. Her eyes widened and she moved away from him, inadvertently waking him up just a little bit.

"Mmm… coffee in a bit…"

Rebecka looked around, this wasn’t her apartment, she was at his, she ran a hand through her hair, trying to figure out what had happened last night. Did she have a one-night stand with this strange man that lay in bed beside her.

She started to grab at her clothes, fussing that she didn’t find hers and then decided to wear his boxers and his t-shirt. 

"I… I’m going to have a shower."

He shifted on the bed, not really waking up, his curls messing on the pillow as his arm moved to cover his eyes from the light that came in through the curtains. Rebecka stared at him a moment longer before she tiptoed past the bed and she rushed to the bathroom. She leaned against the door and she took a deep breath.

Oh my god. Oh my god.

Read More

The point at which Halma proves she writes Bec better than me!!!!

Bloom

A/N-  So this is just a little snippet of the idea that detektivmartinsson and I had for a Restaurant AU.  I just had to write it down to get it out of my brain, so I thought I would share it with you all!!! I’m sure there will be more in the future.

Happy Sunday!

It was so tight.  Rebecka had never been so uncomfortable in all her life. She was glad she was happy with the shape of her body, it would have been so much worse if she wasn’t, but still, trying to move and work in this skirt and blouse was dangerous.  One stride too long and she may rip the skirt right up the side, one deep laugh and those buttons…well, they would fly off and may put an eye out. 

Read More

Anonymous whispered:
If you don't mind my asking, what happened to "Grey Sky Morning"? I was really hooked by it. I followed the Georgia Acton account, but I see it is now locked. :(

Awww!  I’m so sorry about that.

 I loved the idea for the story, and the character, but she is really difficult to write.  It feels like I can’t get her balance right.  She is also a character who isn’t necessarily going to have a happy ending, and that is so much harder for me to deal with than I thought it would be.

 She isn’t necessarily going to get the guy, she isn’t necessarily going to learn to love herself, she isn’t necessarily going to be happy… in other words, like real life!  And she takes an awful lot out of me, trying to balance that hopelessness and not go too far in the other direction.

I heartily apologize for getting you interested and then having to stop.  My hope is I will work something out for that character.  She is always in the back of my mind.

Thank you for always reading and the lovely message.

sleeepingalone:

how am i not tired of reading about the same two people falling in love in 5000 different ways yet

How am I not tired of writing about the same two people falling in love in 5000 different ways yet…?