#thank you P and Magda

[pernillecfcw]

We won’t see P or Magda in a Chelsea shirt again,I can’t even right now 🥲🤧

[mj0702]

“Babe... Come ON!!!” you yelled down the hallway “... we're going to be LATE!!!”

“I just need to look good!!!” Georgia yelled back from the bathroom

“Then what's taking you so long???” you yelled smirking

“Smooth...” your girlfriend said as she walked past you pressing a quick kiss to your lips “... really smooth”

“Thank you... I have my moments” you grinned holding out the car key

“I'm driving?” Georgia raised her eyebrow

“I have a bet with Lucy going on that you lose your license till the end of the month... again.. can't win if I don't let you drive” you smirked and Georgias looked at you with a neutral face

“Not smooth...” your girlfriend grumbled “.... so not smooth”

“It's not like it didn't happen before...” you smirked “.... twice”

“It's not my fault everybody else doesn't know how to drive” Georgia blurted out

“Mhm... so driving 80 in a 50 zone... swearing at other drivers... parking in a non parking zone...” you counted off on your fingers “... and me personal favourite... harassing a police officer by tailgate them AND flip them off at the next traffic light”

“They weren't identifiable as police officers” Georgia defended herself

“Mhm..” you smirked as your girlfriend grumpily snatched the car key from your finger where it was dangling

“Six years of relationship and you're still mean to me...” your girlfriend grumbled

“Six years and there's still no ring on my finger” you grinned back enjoying teasing your girlfriend immensely

“I don't see a reason to rush things... Magda and P waited.... your sister waited... Keira's still waiting... we can wait” Georgia said like it's some sort of football law

“Maybe we don't take the dinosaurs as example...” you pointed out “... by all means... move at a glacial pace... you know how much that thrills me”

“I should've never introduced you to that movie” your girlfriend said flatly shaking her head in amusement

“It's a classic” you shrugged your shoulders opening the door to step outside in the warm Barcalonean evening knowing your girlfriend will follow

“Uh wait... you think I'll need a jacket? I mean it's still warm but we're outside right?” Georgia asked halfway down the stairs

“We're living for four years in Barcelona now... you still don't got used to the weather??” you asked stunned “... and yes to the jacket”

“Be back in a second” your girlfriend turned on her heals sprinting back up the stairs

“Come on Stanway....” you mumbled to yourself checking your watch again “... 10 minutes to find a jacket”

“I'm coming.... sorry” you heard Georgia looking up to see your girlfriend running down the stairs

“Oh no... absolutely NOT” you exclaimed

“What??” your girlfriend stopped halfway down the stairs

“No no no no no no” you pointed at the piece of clothing in her hand “You are NOT taking THAT jacket”

“Why not... it's a jacket” Georgia said confused “You said “yes to the jacket”... this is a jacket”

“No... you put it back” you said stunned “This is MY jacket... I got it from Alexia... YOU are staying far away from this jacket!!!”

“But Babe... it's just a jacket” your girlfriend tried to calm you down

“JUST a jacket? Alexia gifted it to me...” you screeched “... you get stains on EVERYTHING!! Your nickname is Stainway”

“I... I... I...” Georgia looked flabbergasted “... it's not!!!!”

“It IS” you shot back “... you bring that jacket back right now or you're going to freeze later because you won't wear it.. not tonight... not ever...”

“I can't believe you won't trust me with your jacket” your girlfriend said bewildered

“Stainway!!!” you just said crossing your arms in front of your chest

“I... I... I... ugh” Georgia threw her arms up in defeat “... yeah okay”

“Gracias...” you sing songed as your girlfriend stomped up the stairs again “Love you”

“Not love you too” your girlfriend grumbled back

“Eeeey... there you two are” Lucy opened the door smiling but her smile faltered when she saw Georgias dark face “Everything okay G?”

“Pay up Luce” you smirked biting your lip REALLY hard not to burst out laughing

“You serious Stanway????!!!!” your sister burst out shocked “Again??”

“Well... she made me late so I tried to save time” Georgia tried to defend herself

“I made you late?” you faked surprise

“I had to go back to change the jacket!!!” your girlfriend exclaimed

“She took Ales jacket?” Lucy leaned over to you for clarification

“Sí...” you chuckled

“Amateur...” your sister rolled her eyes finally stepping aside letting you in

“Where's the whale in law?” you asked looking around

“She might be pregnant but she's still fast and her throwing skills are still on point...” Lucy warned you but couldn't help to smile

“Heeeeey Oniiii...” you exclaimed OVERLY happy

“I heard you you annoying shit” Ona rolled her eyes but still pulled you in for a hug smiling “Hola G”

“Hola Rittersport” your girlfriend smiled back and you bursted out laughing

“Ritterwhat?” your sister asked confused

“Rittersport...” you laughed loudly “... it's... a german chocolate... it has a very.. interesting slogan”

“Slogan?” now Ona asked raising her eyebrow

“Quadratisch – praktisch – gut” you repeated holding on to the kitchen counter so you wouldn't fall over laughing

“I'm pretty sure it's some form of insult” Lucy mumbled “... but we're not getting into it... everyone is waiting for us... come on”

“You making Burger again?” Georgia perked up following Lucy outside

“She doesn't know how to make anything else” you yelled after the pair before turning to Ona “You okay Momma?”

“Sí” the spaniard laid her hand on her small pregnancy belly smiling softly

“If they act out... tell me... then we'll have a talk” you said seriously but Ona knew you just were making sure she was okay

“You can babysit” Ona grinned widely

“Ugh no... not taking your semen demon in” you shuddered

“Oh but you will...” the spaniard smiled darkly “... we can discuss this with Ale if you prefer”

“I LITERALLY moved to another country once Jorge and Sophie got theirs...” you exclaimed “... I don't want to move again”

“Stop acting all hard-ass...” the spaniard snorted “... we both know you're excited”

“Mi amor... Muppet... come on!!” you suddenly heard your sisters voice “... nearly ready for dinner”

“10 bucks say she burned half of the patties again” you deadpanned holding out your hand to Ona

“I say 3 out of the 12...” the spaniard grinned shaking your hand

“Hey Kei... hey Lau...” you said making room for yourself between Keira and Laura “... LauKei... so... LowKey... you really lived up to that”

“I don't know how it's possible but with 22 you're even more annoying than with 16” Laura smiled sweetly

“Keira... your GIRLFRIEND is mean to me” you immediately whined turning to Keira

“Fiancé...” Keira corrected you calmly cutting another piece of steak

“Fiancé then...” you waved off before you noticed what you just said “... wait WHAT????”

“Told you she'll need a hot second” Keira grinned widely at Laura

“I really had faith in you Schnucki” the brown haired woman scoffed

“When did THAT happen???” you exclaimed still in shock

“Last night... very romantic” your second Mom said still calm

“What... she played you some weird folk music and hid the ring in some Schnitzel?” you said your brain still couldn't comprehend the information

“Something like that...” Keira slightly smiled “.... you need a restart?”

“I think yes...” you stammered

“Of course Bitsy” the blonde smile slapping the back of your head

“Thank you” you said monotone “... oh my god.. you're getting married”

“I am” Keira now smiled seeing how the information gets digested by your brain

“I'm not wearing a dress” you immediately said but Laura and Keira saw how tears were forming in your eyes

“No you're not” Laura said softly “... Jumpsuit”

“You're getting married” you whispered again before launching yourself into Keiras arm pressing your face into her neck

“It's okay Bits...” Keira smiled but she felt her own tears forming

“I need to know the colour scheme” you suddenly ripped yourself away from Keira looking at Laura

“It's kind of obvious...” the dark haired woman said a little taken aback “Red and white”

“Ugh no” you groaned “... so mainstream”

“It's my countries colours and your countries colours” Laura exclaimed

“That's so...” you started to argue but realizing you had no point to prove “... fuck... that works”

“I'm not wearing a red jumpsuit...” you said seriously “... I'll look like a gigantic tampon!!!”

This made Keira and Laura burst out laughing while Luce quickly glanced over smiling softly when she saw your bewildered face

“Hey Luce...” Georgia appeared next to your sister her hands fidgeting nervously

“Yeah?” Lucy raised an eyebrow at your girlfriend

“Can we... like...” your girlfriend stammered nervously “... talk later... in private”

“Sure...” your sister shrugged her shoulders “... you both okay right?”

“Yeah... we're both okay” Georgia nodded her head furiously

“Good...” Lucy gave your girlfriend a quick nod “... you didn't knock her up right?”

“Of course not” your girlfriend exclaimed “We use protection”

“Wrong answer Stanway” your sister made a step towards your girlfriend “Your answer should have been “we don't have sex”....”

“But... Keira said lying is bad” Georgia held her hands up but quickly started to sprint away when Lucy lunged forward

“Come back here Stanway!!!” Lucy yelled running after Georgia “We'll talk about that”

“What did G fuck up now?” you looked at Ona expectantly

“Something about you having sex” the spaniard shrugged her shoulders biting off a piece of bread

“Ah.... the usual” you waved off stealing a sausage from Lauras plate

“Hey Luce...” you said later when everyone was seated “... great Burgers”

“Thanks Bubs... had enough time to train with your bottomless pit as a stomach” your sister smirked back

“Not my fault I had another grow spurt” you defended yourself

“You didn't... your still a midget” Lucy said and you kicked her shin hard under the table “OW”

“You're a midget” you huffed out

“Ehrm..” your sister just smirked

“On...” you started to whine when Ona quickly interrupted you

“Oh no....” Ona snorted “... you called me whale-in-law... don't come whining to me”

“So mean...” you grumbled falling against Keira “... so mean Kei”

“So mean” Keira chuckled pressing a kiss to your temple

“Aw damn” you heard Georgia groan and you quickly looked over seeing how your girlfriend put down her burger grabbing some napkins and started to clean her shirt

“THAT!!!” you exclaimed victoriously “THAT'S why I won't let you wear my jacket!!!”

“It's not me fault” Georgia looked up from her stain “Lucy put like a ton of ketchup on it!!!”

“Don't put that one on me Stainway....” your sister grinned “... not my fault that you're still unable to eat properly with 31 years of age”

“I swear G... you'll never ever gonna wear my Jacket...” you said seriously “... better... don't even touch it...”

“I just grabbed it because it was the first thing I saw” your girlfriend huffed continue to clean the ketchup off her white top

“Are we talking about the jacket or my sister?” Lucy raised an eyebrow making the whole table burst out laughing – except for Georgia who just had big eyes not knowing what to say anymore

“Hey Lucy...” Georgia came into the kitchen where Lucy was doing the dishes

“Grab a towel” Lucy just said her focus not shifting from her task

Georgia grabbed a towel and started to dry off the plates and glasses Lucy already cleaned

“Okay...” your sister said a few minutes later “... show me”

“Huh?” your girlfriend looked up at Lucy confused

“Show me the ring” Lucy said her voice and face not giving away anything

“Ring?” Georgia said bewildered

“You wanted to ask for my blessing...” your sister said nonchalantly going back to clean dishes “... so show me the ring so I can decide if I give it or not...”

“How did you know?” your girlfriend asked shocked

“G.... I love you but I also know you...” Lucy said smiling softly “... you coming up to me asking if we can talk in private... come on... not many options are there now...”

“I thought I did a good job” Georgia mumbled

“If it helps... Bubs has no idea” your sister smiled “... now... show me the ring.. you better picked a good one”

“I... don't have a ring right now...” your girlfriend said embarrassed “... I first wanted to talk to you and.... ask if you maybe... if you have time... help me pick one?”

“Good strategy Stanway....” Lucy smirked knowing how nerve wrecking it must be for the woman “... pick one... I know you'll pick the perfect one”

“But what if I'm not” Georgia mumbled

“You will... just listen to your heart okay...” your sister smiled finishing up “... now come on... our women are waiting”

[agendabymooner]

pag-ibig, traducido (love, translated) || cs55 fic

carlos sainz x ofc (filipino!content creator!ofc)

EXTENSION TO RIDE HOME

Summary: Magdalena ‘Magda’ and Carlos Sainz can bring the two worlds together through words and actions. OR, moments in which the Filipino woman and her Spanish husband learned to love each other while learning more about what they know about themselves. 

Content warning: Use of explicit language, shitty Tagalog/Filipino and Spanish translations, a lot of Spanish colonial and Filipino history jokes, parental abandonment, brief reference to religious and cultural practice (weddings), mentions elopement, secret marriage, briefly mentions PR relationships/girlfriends, time skipping, what is beta reading lol

Note: The last part of this story is loosely based on the idea given to me by @clairalle and the song 'Paninindigan Kita' by Ben&Ben so thank you so much! ❤️

Letting you all know that some Filipino dialogue here are translated based on how I know it in both English and Tagalog language??? And also, there are some words in here that are the same in context BUT written in two different spellings - some of the words are spelled based on phonics or how it sounds. Enjoy xx

masterlist

i. 2016 — shit, ayos ka lang?

Ramona Magdalena normally had the patience for Tesco. She wasn’t sure what it was, but everything had her seething with no apparent reason. She tried to figure out what went wrong. 

It was only 3 p.m., for goodness sake! 

Her third year at the university was supposed to make things easier, but the way she clenched at the handle of her shopping cart as she sped through the aisles of Tesco showed nothing of the sort. 

She was so tense, her jaw clenching as she asked herself repeatedly if there was an actual reason for her getting worked up over something. 

Her mother, Alma, was being herself; she was merely calling to see how the university was for Magda. Alma only told Magda about her cousins in the Philippines and how they were looking forward to getting the “balikbayan” box in August, only for the younger woman to respond grumpily. Alma was a dear— so clearly Magda’s grumpiness had nothing to do with her mother’s daily check-in. 

She appreciated her mother’s efforts to keep up with Magda’s well-being; after all, Alma did everything she could as a single parent who immigrated to the UK long before she took Magda. 

So no. She loved her mother so much that she wouldn’t get unreasonably cranky towards her. Not easily, at least. 

But her questions withered away when her speed walking was interrupted by her shopping cart crashing into a figure. Her eyes widened, and she shook herself out of her thoughts. 

“Mierda!” Shit! An accent escaped out of the man’s mouth. 

Now, Magda had been a citizen of the UK for a while now— she knew when to speak English and how to utilize her vocabulary in a reasonable manner. But everything seemed to be in panic mode as she exclaimed, “Shit! Ayos ka lang?” Are you okay?

The man was still groaning, bent over as he clutched to his stomach. He glared at her for a moment as he asked, “¿Por qué no observas a dónde vas?” Why can’t you watch where you are going?

“Hah?” She cocked her head slightly. She only picked up on the first two words. Por qué? Why? 

He’s Spanish, Magda deduced. She stepped away from the cart and walked towards him, “I’m so, so, so sorry! I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going—“

���Obviously—“ he muttered hastily, still touching his aching side. 

“I’m also in a rush, and I’m so frustrated and tired. Three years into adulthood and I can’t make shit right,” Magda hadn’t even realized that she was ranting to a stranger as she rambled, “GCSE clearly didn’t do shit to me because I’m still here bitching about what to cook— punyeta naman kasi, ‘di ba.” What the fuck, am I right?

He stared at her for a moment, not even interrupting her as she spoke. But the silence made Magda pause as her face flushed red, earning a soft smirk from the man. “Mama said I have a problem with speaking too much without thinking.” 

He chuckled at her rambling before sticking his hand out, “We can call it… truce— I think is the word?” 

“Yeah, okay, truce,” she reached out and introduced herself while shaking his hand, “I’m Magdalena.” 

“I’m Carlos.” 

“So, like… you’re Spanish, right? Or do you just speak Español? I’ve only picked up on some words because they’re quite similar— or I suppose I learned it through some song from years ago.” 

“I am actually Spanish; good guess. And you said puñeta— I can assume you also speak Español?” 

“Oh, hah, about that— no. That’s not spoken in Spanish. That’s— yeah, that’s something.” 

ii. 2017 — irog means love

“Ate Magda! Totoo ba?” Is it true?

“Jowa mo galing Spain?” Your boyfriend is from Spain? 

Magda almost died laughing as she FaceTimed her cousins, who were certainly supposed to be asleep at this time. The Philippines was seven hours ahead, and with her cousins being awake at two in the morning, she could assume that they had a holiday. Everybody always sleeps in if it’s a long weekend or a national holiday. 

But she hadn’t expected their night to be spent gossiping about Magdalena’s boyfriend, Carlos. 

“Niño, bakit ‘di mo gamitin yang utak mo sa school kaysa sa jowa ko?” Why don’t you use your brain for school instead of my boyfriend? Magda huffed out her laugh, making her other cousin Paloma laugh next to Niño. Paloma’s laughter caught Magda off guard as she called out, “Oi, Lomi, don’t be laughing— ikaw ang nagpasimuno nito. Akala mo ‘di ko alam?” You started this. You think I didn’t know?

“Papa brought it up,” Paloma defended herself with a cry, “he kept calling you a national hero, and I had to ask why.” 

“Ano ba naman ‘yan,” what the hell. Magdalena cried out as her head slumped against the couch, raising it to look at her cousins on the screen, “Tell your papa to keep his mouth shut. I love Tito Gerry— I do, but he needs to stop making jokes about that.” 

“—About what?” Magda seemed to be more drawn towards her uncle’s joke that she hadn’t heard her boyfriend enter her flat with a curious look. He had just arrived from Milton Keynes, and this was a surprise as he normally arrived later than this. 

Carlos had taken off his shoes and placed his bag down, walking around the couch to sit next to Magda as he pecked her lips. “Hello, cariño. How was your day?” 

“Hm, good! I’ve finished my paper,” Magda grinned. 

They were so caught up with each other that the only thing they heard was gagging from the phone that the Filipino woman held. Magda and Carlos peered down on the screen as they watched the two teens exaggerate at the sight of the couple being too sweet for each other. 

“Reparations,” Paloma gagged jokingly, “but at what cost?” 

“Matulog na nga kayo!” Go to sleep! Magda exclaimed.

“Okay po, master,” Niño rolled his eyes before waving at the camera, “nice meeting you, Carlitos!” 

"You're Niño, right?" Carlos grinned as he kept his face in front of the camera before waving, "Nice meeting you too!"

“Yeah! Buenas noches, Don Carlos!” Good night, sir Carlos! Paloma giggled, the other side of the call abruptly ending before Magda could berate the pair even further.

She sighed heavily and tossed her phone aside, giving her boyfriend a look of despair as he giggled at her. 

“What did they mean by reparations?” He asked her, genuinely curious at what they were joking about. 

How was she going to explain it to him? Did they even teach at Spanish schools about their country’s history of colonialism? Magda didn’t have an answer to that. 

“Oh, just you know…” She mumbled, “Filipinos were originally Spanish people living in the Philippines. Apparently, dating you made us a deadly combination. Enemies to lovers, or whatever trope that is.”

“Reparations? Oh… OH!” Carlos exclaimed in realization, earning a nod from his girlfriend as he murmured, “Okay.” 

“Okay?” 

“Yeah, I understand now, mi corazon.” 

“Irog,” Carlos said aloud, making Magda hum in a questioning tone. “Irog, bébé.”

“What’s that, bé?” Magda asked mindlessly as she stared at the screen of her computer. 

Carlos turned his head in her direction as he said, “I don’t know. You’re the one who speaks the language.” 

She paused from doing her work, looking up at him before she pondered the first word he brought up. Then she let out an ‘ah’ before nodding. 

“So…? What does that mean?” Carlos asked. One year of relationship and his thirst for knowledge was an obvious factor that came with it.

“It means mahal,” Magda answered, remembering the word. She continued to read Filipino literature as she grew, not wanting to stay away from it regardless of the fact that she spent her last school years in a British school. She asked her mother questions whenever she didn’t have a single clue what a word meant, so this was a helpful thing to do, especially now that Carlos continued to ask her to teach him how to speak her language. 

“Mahal, like expensive?” Carlos asked for clarification. 

Magda shook her head, “No, not that mahal. Like mahal— you, mahal.” 

“Oh,” Carlos let out before he reiterated what she said, “mahal, like love?” 

“Yes, mahal,” she snickered quietly, calling him by the term of endearment. “Like love.” 

“So irog means love?” 

“Yes, bébé. Irog means love.”

iii. 2018 — patata, patatas. what’s the difference? 

“Oh! Hey, Mr. Alonso, you’re here just in time,” Magdalena grinned. The older man, who just arrived, shot her a confused look as she stood there with her lips spread out to a grin.

“Magda, hija, call me Fernando. It’s also nine in the morning,” Fernando Alonso sighed quietly, his hand running through his face as he looked back at the girl in the white McLaren shirt. “I think it’s too early for your optimism.” 

“You’re right,” Magda’s shoulders slumped, and her smile fell, her face showing nothing but defeat as she walked towards the Spaniard, “but don’t let my sadness get in the way of your duties today. My supervisor said that you have to do your filming for the next two videos of the channel— and you cannot, I mean CANNOT, back out this time.” 

“I can’t,” Fernando smirked playfully, “or can I?” 

“Mr. Alonso, with all due respect,” Magda sighed heavily, “I started this year. And if you continue to ditch your duties because I cannot convince you enough then I’m going to have to leave not of my own will. I did not last four years at the university just so I can have a manchild act so sassily at the person who’s merely trying her best, so please—“

“Calmaté, Magdalena. Are you okay?” Calm down. Fernando asked, reiterating his question and emphasizing the word you. 

Magda had anything but an answer; her lips pursed as she shook her head. “Can I… shit. Sorry, can I be excused for a moment? It's been a morning for me.” 

“Take all the time you need, querida,” Fernando told her with a smile, patting her on the shoulder as she gave him a grateful look before she walked out of the McLaren garage with a heave of sigh. 

Fernando Alonso pursed his lips as he caught sight of the young British reserved driver, calling him with a whistle as Lando Norris looked in his direction with a questioning expression.

“Norris, you know Carlos Sainz, yes?” Fernando asked.

“Uh, yeah,” Lando replied with a nod. “He’s a friend of mine.”

“Do me a favour, if you don’t mind,” Fernando requested, “will you please tell him Magdalena’s on break?” 

“Yeah, of course,” Lando obliged before his curiosity got the best of him as he asked, “Is she alright?” 

“I think McLaren broke her.”

“Leche,” she swore quietly as she stood behind the McLaren motorhome. Thankfully, nobody else was there to witness her on the verge of breaking down. Otherwise, that would have been embarrassing. 

She had a bad habit of pleasing people. Living in the Philippines, with her mother working overseas and her biological father being a dickhead fuck knew where Magdalena grew up wanting to appease her friends and family. Her immediate family cared very little about the achievements she reached — they were proud, sure, but how she got there was beyond what they wanted for her.

Some kids who grew up in a Filipino household aimed to please, and Magda wasn’t an exception to that. She, however, did more than what she should have been doing. All thanks to the father she had never interacted with before or ever.

Much like now. She aimed to please. Maybe that was why she got to this predicament now; crouching with her head down as she tried to keep her composure. 

She knew that everyone would kill to be in her place— working for a racing team. But for some reason, her urge to please was replaced by her fear of discomfort and disappointment. Being in a relationship with a Formula One driver taught her a lot about the sport, and she landed herself a job in a team based in England.

Being able to travel with him was a plus, but she felt that she had disappointed him. She didn’t feel as good as he told her she would when she first announced McLaren’s offer to hire her for the season. 

Was this what most Formula One wives and partners felt? Or have they embraced that lifestyle long before the drivers became so popular? She wouldn’t make a good girlfriend for everyone should they find out that she had nothing but anxiety in her system as she graced the grid with her presence. 

She was a disappointment of a Carlos Sainz fan.

His cologne lingered in the air as she witnessed him crouch down in her level, his fingers pulling her hair tie off her head, letting her long dark brown hair fall as she smiled grimly. 

He was in his Renault fireproof, his race suit hanging off his waist. He made things more angelic than normal, and she loved him so much for it. His lips pursed as his fingers continued to massage her scalp. 

“Few more months, mi vida,” Carlos murmured, his soothing voice making her feel at home. “You’re doing so good for them. Don’t let them say otherwise.” 

Sure, she could be at the hotel with Ben&Ben blasting on her phone and her figure crying in the bathtub. She could be falling into the deepest depth of her sadness, but with Carlos ditching his team before the free practice — she would rather be here than be in their shared hotel room. 

“Now c’mon, mi corazon,” he pulled her up, “I’ve managed to get my manager to come drop off some pancit to the motorhome from the hospitality.”

“Pancit?” 

“Malabon,” Carlos beamed at her, pressing his lips to her forehead. “One of the caterers gladly took my request to have some pancit malabon at the menu. It took them a couple of weeks until they finally got tired of my constant asking.”

“Hm, you’re the best, my love,” Magda told him lovingly. “Though, I prefer palabok, remember?” 

“Eh,” Carlos paused, “patata, patatas. What’s the difference? Pancit is pancit, mi amor.”

iv. 2019 — magda, maldita 

“Carlos, bebe, mahal kita. Mahal kita sobra.” I love you. I love you so much. Magda sighed as she glanced over the notepad that her fiancé left on the end table of the side of her bed— their brainstorming notepad. “But do you really want to get married in a church? In the Philippines while you’re at it?” 

“It’s an idea, mi amor,” Carlos said while he continued to do whatever he was doing in the bathroom, making her listen from the bed as he spoke, “Just how bad is it?” 

“It’s nothing bad,” Magda said quietly, “it’s just something that I wouldn’t personally do. There is a lot of paperwork to do when getting married in a church. Did you know that? Not only that, but we’d have to attend seminars about family planning— which is not right up my alley, seeing as my mother is an unmarried single mother.” 

“Paperwork is what you are worried about?” 

“Why can’t we just elope instead? My Lola grandmother and Lolo grandfather did that, and look— they have my mom, my tito uncle and tita aunt,” she suggested out of the blue. 

“And risk getting killed by either of our mothers?” Carlos scoffed, “I think we should stick to the church idea, yes, mi amor?” 

“Did you not hear the story of my grandparents, love?” Magda asked him, thankful that he couldn’t see the baffled look on her face. 

“More than I can count, mi corazon,” Carlos answered, “they ran away from home, didn’t they? Got married and had your Tia Maria, then your Mama after? They eloped because they weren’t close with their families— but we’re both very close to ours. We can’t do what your grandparents did.” 

She sighed. He wasn’t even wrong. 

The Spaniard walked out of the bathroom, his face now clean-shaven as he sat next to his fiancée. “Look, we don’t have to do the church thing. It was just an idea, hm? I know you don’t want to get married in the Philippines either, so that’s alright. We’ll just send your cousins, your aunt and uncle to wherever we’re going, then we’ll get married. Don’t worry too much.” 

“‘M sorry,” Magda murmured, her fingers fidgeting with the gold engagement ring as she continued, “I’m a killjoy.” 

“No, you’re not,” Carlos huffed out and clasped his hand with her left hand, “you’re the bride. The bride is more than permitted to weigh out the options. If you don’t want the Philippines, that’s okay.

“Truthfully, I just want to marry you,” Carlos murmured as he pulled her closer, “if we didn’t have such scary mothers, I would’ve already married you. You and your YouTube channel.” 

Magda’s chuckle vibrated in his chest as she perched on his lap, “I don’t even know if that will even work out.” 

“I am sure the wedding plans will. If it doesn’t, our marriage certainly will work out for you and your channel.”

“You are a dickhead, mahal.” “I can’t speak the truth now?” 

“There was no need to bring up the channel, dumbass.”

“Mabuti nalang may passport yung mga pinsan mo,” It’s a good thing that your cousins have passports. Alma San Pedro, Magdalena’s mother, brought up as she sat across the aforementioned woman.

Magda skimmed through the spreadsheet laid out on her laptop’s screen, keeping her eyes on the things Carlos typed out on the guest list as he actively listed who’s responsible for the catering.

Alma continued to speak, “Why didn’t you want to get married in the Philippines? You’ve always wanted to get married in the Tayabas basilica— I could have had your Tita Marie look into it.”

“That was mainly because I thought you got married there,” Magda glanced at her mother before leaving a comment on the name that Carlos had just typed down on the guest list sheet.

“Lando Norris” — Magda San Pedro (monamagsp) commented: “He finally RSVP’d?”

Carlos Sainz (carlossz) replied: “Yes. He said he forgot to do it, but I managed to get him to fill it.”

He was still at Monaco for the race, but between the busy days of partying and racing he decided to abandon his friends and stayed at the hotel to plan his wedding with Magda instead. “Besides, Ma, the wedding’s in two months. Travelling is also time-consuming for most of us.”

“You’re so picky, anak,” child. Alma replied with a playful scoff.

“And you’re not married, Mama,” Magda shot back with the same amount of humour in her tone. “People complain about both, but we can’t find ourselves to care, hm?”

“Hay nako, Ramona Magdalena,” Alma rolled her eyes and sighed exasperatedly. A rhetorical question escaped her mouth, “Bakit ka kaya maldita?” Why are you so cheeky/sassy? 

Mona shrugged, “Tita Maria didn’t take any shit from my private school teachers, Ma. She’s the one who took care of me while you worked here, remember? Go figures.”

“I can’t believe you’ve invited me to the wedding,” Lando’s eyes glimmered under the warm light of the ballroom hall as he excitedly spoke to Magda. “I know we didn’t speak as much last year, but the fact that you allowed Carlos to invite me? I’m so grateful, mate.”

Magdalena San Pedro— or wait, Magdalena Sainz stood across from the British man with a grin as she tucked her hands into her pockets (she had pockets on her wedding dress that she began to think that God was treating her right today).

The San Pedro-Sainz wedding ceremony took place in the Westin Palace of Madrid. With the hopes of celebrating the love that they shared for years, Carlos and Magdalena managed to get through the hour-long ceremony without a fuss. The romantic venue created an environment full of celebration while keeping it as intimate and private as it could be for their guests and themselves.

Carlos had already made his name known to the Formula One world, his talent being recognized by every fan as the season went on. But nobody knew who Magdalena was to him, and he intended to keep it that way — thus prompting him to keep his marriage a piece of confidential information. Everyone behind the scenes knew he was in a relationship, and with the hopes that he’d get even more popular, PR relationships were introduced and tossed in his way. 

None of the women he was put in the spotlight with ever lasted, and he was slowly earning the title of a Casanova. He didn’t care; he was just doing his duty and driving his car around the tracks while he worried about his partner, who now worked for a designing company based in London— where they both lived. Nobody else in the grid nor anyone in the motorsport community knew who he was romantically involved with. 

Magdalena was another story. She only began to record some videos about her lifestyle as she continued to work for some local designing firm, telling whoever was watching her videos about what she knew about this field of work or what kind of food she’d eat on certain occasions.

She wasn’t as popular as him, but she continued to keep his identity a secret. She lived an average life and she was quite content with it. She’d rather post a video of herself fucking around, but they’ve made a choice to stay private for as long as they could. 

Now Lando Norris was known to be a blabbermouth, but Magdalena had grown quite fond of him when he was still a reserved driver for McLaren as she worked as a PR coordinator for the team. They rarely spoke, sure, but she was certain that she could trust him with anything and he wouldn’t blab about it. Carlos was also friends with Lando, and they continued to be close friends, so Magda never protested against Carlos’ idea of inviting the younger man to the wedding. 

Lando then said, “I find it quite enjoyable— your wedding, I mean. It’s clearly not as big as I would have expected because well… Carlos told me that Filipino weddings are often big, but I love it! I’ve learned more about your wedding traditions than I have in sixth form about geography.”

“Gah, don’t even say that,” Magda rolled her eyes, earning a giggle from Lando as the woman continued, “It’s barely there, I think. We tried not to pour our hearts out into what they would normally practice in the Philippines or here in Spain. Some Filipino things are here — the food, my dress and my family — but it’s just something superficial, you know?” 

“It’s not even just the wedding that taught me a lot!” Lando exclaimed as he laughed, “Your cousins, Lomi, Niño and Lucia? Yeah, I sat with them during the whole ceremony so they kept telling me about wedding traditions and some superstitions: like how you shouldn’t have any relative marry at the same time as you because it’s cursed.” 

“Really? I’m surprised they haven’t said anything mundane,” Magda saw Lando nod at her statement.

“They also started to say that you took one for the team—“ Lando’s forehead creased as he said, “I asked them what they meant by that, then they only said you’re heroic.” 

“Diyos ko.” My god. Magda scoffed. Her cousins spelled nothing but trouble and god did she despise them at times. 

“What? What did that mean, Mags?” Lando asked.

Magda sighed exasperatedly, and with a defeated tone, she answered, “Making up for the challenge we’ve lost, apparently.” 

“Huh?” 

“It’s— just ask Carlitos,” Magda waved off, “I’ve had to explain the concept of colonialism to too many people before. I think it’s time Carlos did it for me.”

v. 2024 — paninindigan kita (stand by you)

Mamahalin kita buong-buo. I will love you completely.

“So, tell us about yourself.”

“I’m Carlos Sainz— or wait, do you want me to speak Tagalog?” The Ferrari driver asked as he stood in front of the camera, his linen shirt in the view of the lens as he waited to be instructed.

“Directing this music video is the dumbest idea I could’ve ever made,” Magda deadpanned from behind the camera as the videography crew laughed alongside the band members, her voice being picked up by the microphone easily.

Their Philippines trip, which they should’ve made a while ago, was something of an experience for the couple.

It was the first time they’d been seen in public— with everyone finding out about their marriage after Carlos’ Instagram story slip-up when he accidentally posted a photo of Magdalena’s selfie that she sent when she travelled to the country long before this. 

It really was an accident if you were to ask him. But it was something inevitable, and all Magda could do was laugh and make her presence known not only to her fans but to those who were more than interested to know about her. His fans. 

Now, they were in an Airbnb somewhere in the Quezon Province as they filmed some form of documentary. It was meant to be a storytelling music video about their relationship and the romance that came with it, but after seeing Carlos’ script reading at the Shell commercial, Magda practically banned him from acting.

She was a popular content creator in the Philippines regardless of her living situation; she lived in Madrid with her husband for almost five years. And with her popularity in the Philippines came acquaintances who were more than willing to collaborate with her. The folk-pop band called Ben&Ben asked if she was more than willing to shoot a music video with them. Direct it, even. 

The song they released practically spoke about her life with Carlos. At first, she didn’t think too much of the lyrics and just enjoyed the rhythm of the song, then she realized how similar it was to their relationship, from the courtship (and her outward refusal to continue this romance with him at the very beginning) to their vows to love each other as they grow old, and decided that perhaps it was time to show to the world how they truly love each other. 

Carlos agreed, knowing that outside of his life as a Ferrari driver and a Formula One figure, he had nothing else in life but her and her alone. He knew that she was the one thing that he kept from everyone to provide security for his wife. He waited patiently for her — and it was now paying off. Now, he was standing in front of a camera, waiting to be filmed for his interview. 

It was better than the countless documentaries and the Netflix series that he had to do interviews and filming duties for. Because this time, he got to discuss his wife, Magdalena Sainz, instead of his car. 

“Can I speak Tagalog?” Carlos repeated, his typical confused expression being displayed before the others.

Magda shook her head, “You’ll butcher it, Carlitos.”

“Excuse me, Ramona,” Carlos gasped in mock offence. “I can speak it!” 

“Clearly not good enough,” Magda shot back, making the others laugh at the banter between the pair. 

“Your Español isn’t any better then, mi vida,” Carlos scoffed, placing his hand on his chest. 

Magda said, “There’s a reason why I only listen to you and your family when you speak, honey.” 

“This is what I have to deal with every day, by the way,” Carlos pointed out to their audience, making the others burst out laughing as he offered his wife a playful glare. 

One of the videographers spoke before Magda could make a comeback, “Wait, the camera’s still on.”

“Oh shit,” Carlos and Magda both swore before they both laughed. Their banter was caught on camera and they were laughing about it.

It took them good ten seconds to return to their composure as the camera stopped recording. 

Magda cleared her throat, clapping her hands as the camera began recording, and she instructed her husband, “Carlos, we can both speak English— it’s fine. Just speak in English, alright?” 

“Okay, fine,” Carlos rolled his eyes and muttered, “mi esposa. Muy quisquilloso.” My wife. So picky. The microphone attached to his shirt picked up on his comment.

“This is so going to the music video,” one of the band members giggled. 

Magda then continued with the recording segment as she spoke to her husband while she stood behind the camera, “Alright, please state your name and how long you have been with your partner?” 

Carlos nodded and beamed slightly as he stared back at Magda, who was smiling as she expected his answer. With a cheerful tone, he said, “My name is Carlos Sainz. I have been with my wife, Magdalena San Pedro Sainz, for seven years and three months and have been married to her for four years and six months.” 

“What prompted you to stand by her?” Magda asked as she continued to beam at him, not even noticing the heart eyes of the other people in the room. 

Eight years and still extremely in love. 

He answered, “Her determination, wits and her ability to stand by me no matter what kind of disaster came and went made me realize that falling in love with her was worth the effort to make.”

It was no wonder people thought their relationship had nothing to do with two worlds colliding.

Even with their constant light bickering, Magdalena and Carlos Sainz learned how to love each other through words — whether it was their native languages or their secondary ones. What mattered was that they understood the meaning of their love, regardless of what kind of language they had to translate it to.

fin.

[hardersson-stuff]

I actually think they are talking about getting P's nephew up to the stands again in the video.

Magda says: Ska vi kasta upp V (she says a name, guessing name of P's nephew) igen eller?

Which directly translated means "Should we throw up V again, or". It makes more sense in Swedish and from the way she says it means more should we get him up again to the stands.

And then P replies in danish (or at least danish accent) "Nej, Louise kommer nu" or something similar which means "No, Louise is coming now". So her sister probably came down to get him instead.

And then Magda says "ah, okej". And both of them or one of them say "kom" (come) to him when they walk away in the end.

Even as a swede I had to listen to it a few times to make out what they where saying :)

Thank you! That makes more sense. I also thought that they talked about logistics. Live I've heard Louise's name and the verb "kom" is really similar to the German "kommen", so that's why I thought live that they talked about meeting after all the signing. Obviously I don't speak Swedish so thank you for translating!

@ anon. There 😃

[alexbkrieger13]

On Magenta TV, P was interview and of course she got a question about Magda.

In summary she said: "We deserve the draw it was not our best performance. I'm happy to be back, you realize whst you miss, when you not have it anymore. Magda is okay doing according to the circumstances. She is resting home. She can not do much at the moment.

omg thanks for this

[tresjoline]

Thanks for the content!! I don’t have the means to watch Bayern (and P/Magda) in person, but your content always makes me feel like I’m there. Just want to tell you how much I appreciate it ❤️

Hey, thank you so much! It means a lot 🥹❤️

[magdasabs]

"We can go home and practice (tackles) in the garden" "I don't know if I want that" ~ magda and p playing FIFA 23, 2023

p says no thank you

[deandoesthingstome]

Night Moves

Chapter 1

Pairing: Walter Marshall x OFC (Alexandra Pierce)

Series Summary: When Walter Marshall is called to investigate a homicide by the railroad tracks, he quickly uncovers an unsettling pattern. Alexandra Pierce just wants someone to find out what happened to her friend. She has some secrets, too. And Walter’s going to uncover them.

Word Count: 1422

Series Warnings: In general, this series will depict assault, murder, stripping, hooking, rough sex, make up sex, fingering, oral (m and F receiving), p in v sex in various positions, self-loathing, failed relationships, smoking, drug use, drug addiction, general violence, and maybe some comfort. +18, Minors DNI

Chapter Warnings: Smoking, mention of stripping, mention of hooking, a dead body, grumpy Walter

Disclaimers: I do not own Walter Marshall, Night Hunter (Nomis), or any other characters from that movie, but I do own this OFC (Alexandra Pierce) and these words. Do not repost as your own. Likes, Reblogs, and Comments are more than welcome. It’s how I get my nourishment.

Header made by me, with pics found from Pexel.com and the internet. Dividers are not mine, but check out the masterlist for credit.

Playlist: I’ll be adding to this Night Moves playlist with each chapter. Songs 1- 3. I really hope you check it out, at least "Low" - Chet Faker. Whatever you think Walter's taste in music might be, these words hit home about him for me. Direct Spotify link here.

Masterlist

Don't look at me

I'm the bus stop boxer

Going down by the railroad tracks, where

People know that they better not relax

I'm the man, baby, I am the man

This is where I can make you understand

“Trixie, wait up!” Sasha called from the club entrance. She was just tucking her stilettos into her shoulder bag and trying to cross the parking lot as quickly and gracefully as she could in her regulation heels, thankful for the unseasonably warm spring evening. 

That was just one of the amazingly ridiculous club rules designed to toss women off balance, literally and figuratively. Augie’s Cabaret couldn’t actually tell a dancer what to do outside of work, no matter how much they tried to entice women into extracurricular jobs. But the parking lot was leased to them just like the building. So performers showed up and left in the “outside uniform.” Tight fitting, preferably low cut crop tops and hip hugger minis with as much skin showing in between, above, and below as possible. And though dancing took place in much higher heels on the stage inside, two inches was the minimum height for the lot.

Sasha caught up just at the sidewalk where Trixie had stopped to light a cigarette. She offered the pack and Sasha snagged one gratefully. Everyone’s nerves were stretched tight and if a few smokes could shave off some of the edge, Sasha wasn’t going to feel bad about it.

Trixie smirked and waited while Sasha pulled her flats from her bag, replacing each heel one at a time before nodding they could head off.

“Did you hear about Angel?” Trixie asked.

“No. Oh shit!” Sasha exclaimed, turning to watch Trixie’s face. “She get roughed up, too?”

Trixie took a long drag and nodded, tapping the ash off her cigarette.

“Fuck, that’s like three we know of right? All around here?” Sasha asked.

“I’ve heard of a few over near Glenwood, but yeah. Angel, Sheri, and Magda - all here near Hennepin.”

“Dating?” Sasha asked, using the euphemism the women preferred.

Trixie inhaled and nodded slowly again. Sasha looked away before her face betrayed her concern, just in time to spy the large crack in the sidewalk. She stepped gingerly to be sure her foot didn’t get caught and mentally patted herself for insisting on changing shoes for the walk and bus ride home. If she hadn’t been trying to keep as much info about her personal life from the club owners as possible, she would have just driven. But the shared walks and rides gave her an opportunity to get to know her co-workers better and it kept the bouncers from knowing her license plate number. 

“I do not know how the fuck you walk home in those heels,” Sasha said, tossing her butt to the ground and pulling her long windbreaker out of her bag. “Your feet have to be killing you. I saw they scheduled you for two extra stage dances tonight. You okay with that?”

“Girl, I asked for it. I am so far behind with them.” Trixie took another drag and exhaled the smoke slowly. “I still have last month’s rent to work off and the first is coming up again soon. I’m so fucked.” 

“Do you know what you’re gonna do? Not…” 

“I’ll do what I have to do,” Trixie interrupted.

Sasha knew what that meant and fought every urge she had to remind her how dangerous it was. How there was no security down by the tracks like there was at the club. How anyone buying there wasn’t exactly gonna be rolling in cash, so she couldn’t quote club prices. How even if the club takes a larger cut of that illegal income than they do stage and floor work, at least she wouldn’t be isolated and without security.

But Trixie had already warned her months ago when Sasha had started at the club: Be careful how you talk to the other performers. They aren’t children and they don’t need your judgment. 

Trixie knew her from the clinic where Sasha had done some volunteer work and was shocked to see her at amateur night trying to hide behind a bombastic neon pink wig. Sasha recognized Trixie, too, and cornered her afterwards, begging her not to say anything to anyone about who she really was. She just wanted to see if she could actually get up on stage and put her old dance lessons to use before she asked for a job.

Trixie was wary, but liked her from the clinic and gave her the benefit. Sasha explained that she hoped to learn a little more about the circumstances that tended to lend themselves to starting a career in adult entertainment and what, if anything, women who found themselves here might need to either stay safe, both physically and emotionally, or get out altogether. Trixie agreed to help her navigate the waters. But she also made sure Sasha remembered to treat them like human beings. Not that Sasha would have ever intentionally done anything other than that, but when you don’t come from the life, there is always something to learn. Or rather unlearn.

Like the fact that they aren’t all strung-out coke-whores and very few of them actually have the daddy issues everyone thinks they do. Which Sasha was gradually learning as she made efforts to befriend and chat with all the women she met on her shifts.

And so, against all her better judgments, so many of which she’d willingly pushed aside these past few months, Sasha let Trixie go once they reached her bus stop. 

“Be careful. Please. Do you have your cell? Your panic button?” Sasha asked, trying to mask her true concern while she donned the dark coat and covered up for the ride.

“Yes, mom,” Trixie stuck out her tongue. “Look, I get it. I know things have gotten a little scary out there, but I’m stuck, Sasha. I can't borrow anymore from the club and I need to get them paid back. This is my only option.”

Walter Marshall shifts into park and grabs the dark blue windbreaker from the passenger seat before stepping down from his Ford extended cab and heading towards the line of cops and yellow tape marking the scene. He swings the jacket around his shoulders with ease, slipping his arms through the sleeves and marking himself as someone who belongs behind the lines. A few uniformed officers step aside, one picking up the tape to let the Lieutenant pass under as he nods curtly in thanks.

It’s a grizzly mess. Or it would be if the responding units hadn’t already covered the body tossed carelessly a few yards back from the tracks.

Walter makes his way to his new partner, Mick Jonas, nodding towards him with the same grim reserve he showed the rookies. The CSI unit is still snapping photos of the surrounding area and scouring the ground for possible evidence as he squats low and lifts a corner of the police blanket. It takes all his nerve not to drop it again just as quickly.

“Jesus. Fuck.” It never fails to hit him hard.

“Yeah,” Detective Jonas agrees, fidgeting with the cigarette pack in his coat pocket and grateful he hadn’t lit up like he wanted to just as Marshall appeared. He didn’t need another dressing down about preserving the scene.

“Looks like someone went 12 rounds with her and she was on the ropes the whole time. This track with anything you’ve seen lately?” Walter asks.

“Not with bodies, no.”

“Something else then?” Walter questions, standing once again and leading Jonas back over the line.

“My girl, Lila. You know, she’s an ER nurse. Says there’s been a rash of girls coming in, beat up.”

“Girls?” Detective Marshall stiffens, curious about the ages and whether this is something Faye could get caught up in.

“Well, you know … I mean…,” Jonas stammers.

“Right, street workers then. You can just call them women, Mick.” He didn’t like to think about the fact that sometimes they really were girls. 

“Okay, yeah. And, well, strippers, too. I mean, that’s what she said.”

“But no police reports filed?” Walter opens the driver’s door and nods toward the passenger side. “You need a lift back to the station?”

“Yeah, I do, thanks.” After climbing in and closing the door, he continues. “And no, yeah, police reports were filed. Want me to see if I can grab ‘em when we get back?”

“You do that.”

Chapter 2 

Taglist:

Anything: @kittenofdoomage @mayloma @sillyrabbit81 @fvckinghenrycavill @kebabgirl67 @beck07990 @summersong69 @mollymal (I can’t tag you two, sorry) (Also throwing in a few from the old days for old times sake ;) @littlegreenplasticsoldier @anotherwinchesterfangirl @sebbytrash @feelmyroarrrr​)

Night Moves: @luclittlepond (I can’t tag you, sorry) @enchantedbytomandhenry @kingliam2019  @henryownsme @geraltsyenn4eva

[woso-dreamzzz]

Could you write a harderson fic about one of the partys after winning the league and princesse joins the celebrations? Maybe you remember when Magda said „it went a bit too far“ and P had to take care of her (and princesse as well) - thanks for your work, we love it!

This is tonight

[womenplayerss]

Emma said three games per week is to much for a player who just come back from injury. This is why she hasn't started P. I get that we all want her to start, but remember she was out with a ruptured hamstring and needed surgery. This was a serious injury not a light one. I understand that Emma is carefull.

I understand Emma wants to be careful but when you analyse everything you actually notice she has her favorites on the team. Besides, we've seen from the documentary how she treats her players, especially those who want to leave the club. I think Emma took a kick in her ego when Magda and P announced her they thought of leaving and from there she started acting weird with them. Do NOT forget she didn't start Magda against OL and if she kept playing until now it's because Millie's injured. I bet on my mom's grave she would not have been playing if it wasn't for Millie injury. Here, I said it. And don't even tell me she didn't want to play Magda to rest her. That's bullshit at 1000% because guess who had not even a minute of rest? Well, if you watch every game you would know what I'm talking about. (Also, there was a time we would beg Emma to rest Magda and she just wouldn't, and because of her Magda had severe injuries).

And the fact she didn't want to play P but then had no other choice cause 'someone' couldn't do the job right... And then guess what, P comes on and delivers a hell of an assist that makes us win a difficult game. Thank God Kerr actually didn't forget to thank her for that and so did Emma.

Listen, again, I'm not trying to be mean or to throw shade at anyone but seriously, Emma is a bully and we all know it. We have it right under our eyes, stop being blind guys...

Anyway, peace and love people 💛 don't hate me for putting the truth out there

[yeeterthek33per]

Hi! Just finished reading “Meet you maybe never” and I just had to say I sooo loved it, made my day and everything. I’ve always had a soft spot for Magda and Pernille, as a pair more than anything and that fic is just wow. You’ve got me really invested and totally waiting for the story to continue.

Anyways, I just wanted to stop here and show you some appreciation and love and to say thank you for posting this amazing piece. Btw, I love your work and to keep going, you’re incredibly talented.

Hey!

First off, thank you so much. 😭🫶

Legit gonna make me cry.🥹

Second, same, P and Mags will always have a spot in my heart, from back when I first started watching them with Chelsea to now, they're my all time favourites so I'm glad I get to share that here.

More importantly, I'm glad you guys enjoy what I write🫶

You guys have no idea how much I love y'all for even just reading and appreciating anything I write.

Part two will be coming, definitely.

I'm not really sure when considering I'm sitting on bullet points right now, but I have something planned as of now, I promise.

As for you, Anon, thank you so much.

You're awesome. 🫶 🥺

[mj0702]

So would you write pernille's version with bb or bb's and magda's reaction then ? :)

Pernille pulled bb over after a training and showed her the ring and asked bb if she thinks Magda would like it since Magda and bb are pretty similar. P just needed the confirmation because she was SO nervous and bb took the ring and slipped it on and then looked at pernille with a blank face "it's... a little small... but that's good... so she won't lose it in a game"

P was so confused when bb said "small"... It took a hot minute for her to realize that the ring is now stuck on the wrong woman

Thanks to Magda pernille learned to be spontaneous and keep a cool head... she did propose to Magda holding out bbs hand so Magda can see the ring and pernille promised once she got it off bb (she promised Magda to cut bbs finger off if she has to) the swede would get her ring

Magda AND G weren't happy bb was running around with Magdas engagement ring

[verstappentime]

Director’s commentary for Pietro and Erik’s relationship in superposition! (I love love love everything we got to see of them onscreen; the “remember what I always tell you” “there’s no ethical consumption under capitalism?” exchange in particular was so delightful, probably my favorite little moment of the fic so far)

ohhhh i love this one.

basically the idea came in the beginning to have pietro be part of the pit crew bc of his powers. then i was debating doing that bc i wanted him to be erik's kid, and we (me and percy who helps me with all my fics) were messing around with the idea of him being a little kid running around the garage or something, then it kind of all came together when i think he suggested we make him old enough to be on the crew *and* erik's son. so that's where erik being a teen dad came from! and once we landed on that idea, even though i knew it was going to be hard to slot into the story, i really super loved it. and we figured out a way around some of the logistical issues with erik not knowing he had a kid till he was 20, when he was probably already in f1, and us making erik a little older so it wasn't super outrageous.

they have an incredible relationship, there's actually a lot of lore that's not in the fic (yet, at least?). he found out about P when he was 20 and magda moved to england and got his number. he went over with his mom & she waited outside when he went in -- P was soo shy & didn't want to come out to meet him at first. he was so tiny and had erik's eyes and it was just surreal for him. he eventually got to say a little hello and go see some of pietro's trains and things and get to see his kid being a real four year old human and when he went back out to the car he just sobbed. he'll always be heartbroken that he never held him as a baby, tbh. he doesn't blame magda but he just wishes he could've gotten every minute with him possible. he takes being a dad more seriously than anything else and just loves his kid so much.

i guess it also hasn't come up that he stopped racing for a few years from when he was 20-22 because he wanted to parent full time, which is what led to him not winning his first championship until he was 25.

also, this bit you mentioned is a favorite of mine too, erik as a socialist who is also knowingly being a hypocrite because he's a multi-millionaire is funny to me lol. but yeah, these two are a great duo, erik does a good job!! there will be some bumps in the road bc he's parenting a 16 year old, but y'know. <3 thank you for loving them!

i'll add a deleted scene under the cut where erik opens up abt P a little more! (not very well written i'm sorry)

“I loved him from the moment I met him,” he says, quiet and honest. “He was small for his age, for a long time. And shy, if you can believe it. Magda had to coax him out just to say hello. I would’ve killed for four more years with him, back then.”

“And now?”

Erik shrugs. “It was hard at first. Toddlers don’t adjust well to change. And I think he… I know he wonders about it, sometimes. If I didn’t try hard enough to be there.” He swallows. He tries to keep that guilt tucked away somewhere safe. It hurts, and it’s hurt for the last twelve years. “But I just try to do everything I can to be a good dad, I guess. I don’t know if I’m getting anywhere with that one.”

He’s read so many fucking parenting books he could recite them. Raising mutant children, raising children with ADHD, explaining sexuality to your children, gentle parenting; everything he could get his hands on. But he still loses his temper sometimes.

He thinks of the first time he had to discipline Pietro, when he was little. He’d taken to Erik immediately, once he’d come out of his shell a bit, but Erik was a visitor, a friend who his mother had gently told him was his dad. They could play dragons together, visit the park, have a snack, and then he went back to his mom, who did heavy lifting.

The first time he’d taken Pietro overnight and needed to put his foot down, be just a bit firm (the first of thousands “no ice cream for dinner” arguments), Pietro had been completely distraught. He sobbed for what felt like hours, like Erik had broken his four-year-old heart.

He’d ended up burrowed into Erik’s neck, whimpering softly, while Erik whispered nonsense to him. It was the first time it dawned on him that if he just really fucking loved the kid, that could be enough.

These days, he isn’t sure.

[hardersson-stuff]

Very happy for you!

Thank you!!! ❤️❤️😘 I'm really happy. With meeting Magda and Pernille, meeting P's family and getting to take pictures and getting autographs ☺️

They both are very kind and patient people. And Magda is even taller in person than I thought 😅

P's family is also very kind. And patient. Her sister actually got Pernille to come and sign the Danish flag 😅

[alexbkrieger13]

A few from P's best quotes.

P about Magda: "She wasn't very straight."

P in the interviw with Rio Ferdinand about if they got many hate comments after THE KISS : "There where a few but it was more like you're so beautifull, why don't you get a boyfriend?" (Magdas answer: Well I'll think about that...Ähm...No thanks)

P after the FIFA didn't allowed the rsinbow armband during the WC: "Every time I step on the pitch I represent the LGBT community, cause I'm open homosexual"

P during puppy yoga: "Maybe I'm smelly or something."

That 3rd one is so powerful

[ananke-xiii]

(TW- fictional incest) What do you think about the possibility of a romantic relationship between Sam & Mary? Like not in a 'I ship this' way, but rather in a 'that's something that would be interesting to see explored in thr story' way. I am aware that SPN, for all it’s blood and blasphemy, was not a grownup enough show to handle that dynamic in a sophisticated way. Thoughts?

Thank you for your question and wow, this is a really big one, I’m not sure I can answer in a satisfying way but I’ll do my best!

I’ve broken down your question in three parts, let’s start from the easiest :P

"The show was not grownup enough to handle that dynamic in a sophisticated way":

I think one of the reasons why SPN is so loved and has inspired so many people to write *things (fanfics, articles, metas, you name it)* about it is because it’s so rich in terms of myths it’s insane. I’m not simply referring to “the lore” but, from a storytelling pov, you can explore so many themes it’s difficult to choose from: two brothers’ rivalry, the spouse’s blind vengeance for their partner’s death, the mother dying to protect her son, offspring carrying the sins of their parents (just to name a few)… I mean, literally it’s crazy, this is the stuff ancient mythology is made of.

So, on one hand, I give credit where credit is due and, in this case, to SPN writers because they somehow managed to weave (not always successfully) all these difficult threads together. The show lasted for 15 seasons because the actors were hot, yes, but also because the storytelling foundations were solid. On the other hand, it was maybe “a little bit of everything all of the time” and this translated sometimes into superficiality, some other times into “let’s sacrifice the plot on the altar of X theme” and it didn’t always work out.

I’m saying all this because, after s5, the biggest event in terms of foundational themes is the return of Mary. Carver spent his tenure as showrunner to reach that apex and it was a pity that he wasn’t the one who completed that arc. I think he was an interesting writer and he was clearly heavily invested into exploring the theme of family and the taboos pertaining to it. To sum it up: the show could’ve handled Mary and Sam’s relationship, they had all the raw materials ready to use and indeed they used them. How? Let’s see…

 “that's something that would be interesting to see explored in the story”:

I think that they’ve explored their relationship in s12. One of the possible readings for Mary in that season is that they basically gave her the 101 of s1-5 Sam’s arc. Mary is similar to Sam, like a lot. At least she's so narratively speaking. She starts off being thrown back in a world she didn’t want to be part of anymore and ends up in a different dimension with Lucifer. Sounds familiar?

The relationship between Sam and Mary, however, is not so much portrayed in much needed screen-time between the two characters (to my distress) but it’s prevalently mirrored in their MOTW episodes. And, let me tell you, it’s not a good one. I’d like to explore each episode but I don’t want to kidnap your precious time on this planet so I’ll just use “American Nightmare” as an example (also because it’s a great episode).

Yes, Magda has psychic abilities so the parallel with Sam is blatant. She is also considered The Devil by her mother. Oh-oh. She’s also a prisoner who’s forced to torture herself and bleed for her sins. Oh shit. Sam is pissed at Gail, Magda’s mother (“God didn't kill your daughter. You did”). Later, Gail will try to murder her whole family, her husband’s the first to go, then her son steps in to protect Magda and, eventually, Sam manages to convince Magda not to kill her mother. Meanwhile, Sam is tied up to a chair, unable to do anything but screaming. I thinks he feels a bit castrated. Interesting. From what I can infer, Sam is subconsciously livid at this mother. He hasn’t healed his separation wound. This is why he’s the first to smell something’s off with Mary even though she’s basically a stranger to him. This is also why he doesn’t even make an attempt at reaching her, the ties between them are very much severed. Of course, consciously he wants to know his mother and play the good-kid role for her. But scratch that surface and Sam’s totally not okay with Mary. And what about her? She feels guilty. Guilty for her past actions and guilty because she understandably doesn’t feel a real connection with the two adults in front of her. So she does the Sammest thing ever (but levelled-up) and asks for space to breathe. You see, it’s very very complicated.

The show has explored their relationship but only in the foreground and only via the MOTW episodes. Dean’s got his moment with Mary because, of course, this is also about him and he had to have it but, from the story pov, he was also the reason why she was back on earth so, you know, they had to complete that arc for him. That was okay with me as I was hoping that s13 had something more in store but it was a total disappointment as far as Mary and Sam’s relationship is concerned (well, tbh, it was a disappointment as far as everything is concerned but okay). So, again, to sum it up: I think the show explored Sam and Mary’s relationship specifically in s12 but what we’re offered is nothing exceptionally encouraging because there is a rift between them (seriously, s12 ends with a literal rift: symbolically it represents birth as both coming into the world and being separated from the world: the ties between The Mother and The Son are forever severed).

"a romantic relationship between Sam & Mary":

It’s time for the difficult part. Surprisingly, it’s also something I think about a lot.

Short premise: I adhere to a school of thought according to which stories are ways to explore our conscious and unconscious mind (mostly the second). Characters in a story play the role of some of the parts of our mind we cannot reach. For instance, I believe that it’s possible to interpret siblings in a story as the different side of the same coin representing a single part of our mind. Basically, siblings in story symbolize opposite things that must be integrated in order to move on. In a word, everything I’ll say from now on must be interpreted as symbolical.

As I said, I think that Sam and Mary’s relationship’s main feature is separation. Interestingly, there’s an ancient myth that combines the themes of motherhood, separation, romantic union and… castration. I’m talking about the myth of Attis which, I believe, could’ve been a way to explore Sam and Mary’s relationship.

Like all ancient myths revolving around the archetype of the Great Mother there are many different versions of this story. This is one of them (I apologize in advance for the deplorable retelling of such an ancient and fascinating myth): Agdistis was an ancient hermaphrodite deity closely related to the cult of The Great Mother of whom other deities were afraid of. They decided to tie them to a tree and evirate them. From their male genitalia an almond tree was born. Nana, the daughter of a river-god, picked one almond and became pregnant with Attis. He was later abandoned and raised by goats. Agdistis met him and fell in love with him. Attis was supposed to marry the king’s daughter and Agdistis, in the grip of jealousy, made Attis go insane and he ended up evirating himself by a tree.

Why am I talking about castration and mothers? Well, because this is a story about the separation wound, specifically pertaining to virility. It’s also a story that ends where it begins and this is exactly there s12 starts and ends too. Imo, it can be applied to Sam and Mary, too. Agdistis (Mary) being The Great Mother, the Alpha and the Omega, is separated from something that’s theirs in a brutal and coercive way. They are tied up and dismembered. Attis is born because of a violent act of separation that he’s forced to repeat. Sam as Attis also ends up tied up and dismembered in a brutal and coercive way. He has no voice at all. The two are basically the same person because they were the same person before separation happened. I know this all sounds sad but in ancient Rome they used to have a festival in Attis honor where people whipped themselves (just like Magda, come to think of it) to symbolize Attis’ castration and consequent death and, the next day, they would celebrate his resurrection (it’s a festival closely associated with Easter and it was celebrated around the same period, i.e. spring equinox).

To sum up: romantic relationship can’t even begin to cover how messed up Sam and Mary’s relationship is. We’re talking about The Love Above All, the unconditional love, something that, unfortunately, Sam has never discovered in the series. Mary was an opportunity for him to integrate this part and be able to move on a little with his life. Mary’s a bit different because in s13 we see that her guilt eases up a bit as she sees the world where she didn’t make the choices she made. Still, in terms of her relationship with Sam, working together, getting to know him would have maybe worked wonders in accepting that a part of her life was taken from her forever but that didn’t mean that all is lost. Reconnection and reunion are always possibilities.

Okay, wow, that was a lot. I still don’t know if I was up to the task, I did my best! Thanks again for your question, again, it’s a big one but I loved writing about it! I hope you enjoyed reading it (fingers crossed)!