#she said ‘papa I’m a girl’ at age 3 and he said ‘we can accommodate that’ and put her ass in some Victorian baby outfit

[pictureswithboxes]

I love Trans Franziska headcanons because there’s a lot of subtext there. And one of those subtexts is that Manfred von Karma is supportive as FUCK about it.

[pentakillmaven]

The Nose Knows, Chapter 1 (NaNoWriMo 2018)

Science has shown that the sense of smell is a powerful tool, able to evoke strong memories in people. When Marinette and Adrien realize that their respective partners' Kwami have very specific affiliated scents, what will it mean for their secret identities?

Fic Rating: T/M for adult situations in future chapters (All characters 18+)

Chapter Rating: T

Chapter Warnings: Gratuitous use of French, Spoilers from “Style Queen” and "Frozer"

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12

Chapter 1

"Honey, can you reach that jar of capers for me?" Sabine asked sweetly.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng smiled at her mother, reaching up to grab the jar of capers off the top shelf and place it in her mother's basket. At eighteen years old, Marinette was nearly as tall as her father, though she had definitely inherited some of the Cheng family build as well. Sabine liked to bring her daughter along when she went grocery shopping to give the two of them a chance to spend time together girl-to-girl, and also because the younger Dupain-Cheng could reach items on the highest shelves of the various specialty shops they visited on Saturday afternoons. "What's next on the list?" Marinette asked.

Consulting her shopping list, Sabine checked off the capers before moving down to the next item. "We need to go get the cheese for the gratin," she said. "Let's go ahead and take these up to the register and we can head to the fromagerie."

"Sounds good! Let me carry this for you, Maman, it looks heavy." Before Sabine could protest, Marinette took the basket from her hands, supporting it with both hands to carry the groceries toward the register. Thankfully, the small grocer wasn't super busy; it seemed to be a lull between waves, so they were able to get checked out quickly. Sabine pulled the bills from her billfold to pay the cashier while another associate packed their purchases in the cloth bags Sabine had placed in the bottom of the basket when they came into the store. Marinette picked up the bags and carried them out to the car, placing them in the trunk before pulling out the keys to start the car. "Thanks again for letting me drive, Maman!" Marinette said to her mother as they pulled out of their parking spot.

"Of course, Marinette. I know you need the practice before you take your exam." Sabine couldn't believe how her little girl was growing up into a young adult. It seemed like only yesterday little Marinette was speaking her first words and toddling around the bakery. Now she's in her last year of school, learning how to drive, and just generally getting ready to spread her wings and leave the nest for university at the end of the summer.

Marinette was a careful driver, Sabine noted, making sure to follow all the traffic signals and keep her eyes on the road despite the sound of her cell phone chiming from her purse. It was only a couple of miles to the cheese shop, but with busy Paris traffic and lack of parking space, it took them about ten minutes to make it there. Once Marinette had perfected her parallel parking job, Sabine stepped out of the car, grabbing an empty bag from the back seat to hold their purchases. Marinette was right behind her, pulling her cell phone out of her purse to check the message she had received. "Maman, I know you and Papa have that dinner party tonight, but Alya wants to know if I can come with her and the girls to see that new romance movie that just came out. Is that okay?"

"Of course, Marinette; I didn't expect you would want to hang around with stuffy old Mme. Mazet and her husband anyway. You go have fun, and tell the girls hello for me."

Marinette smiled and hugged her mother from the side in thanks. The dinner party tonight was one that Marinette's parents hosted once every few months as sort of a neighborhood get together, to give those who lived on their street a chance to mingle and discuss the goings-on in the neighborhood. Marinette had attended several in her time, but it was always awkward to hear people talking about Ladybug as if she wasn't in the room with them. Granted, they didn't know that she was in the room with them, but somehow that just made it worse, especially since some of the older residents didn't particularly approve of a young lady in skintight spandex running around pulling dangerous stunts. She couldn't defend Ladybug too vehemently, lest someone get suspicious of her reasons for supporting the super-heroine.

When the two women stepped into the fromagerie, Marinette was instantly assaulted by the unmistakable scent of must and aged cheese. Just inside the door, a shop associate was handing out free samples of product. "Would you like to try a sample of our finest Camembert, mesdames?" he asked, gesturing to thin slices of the cheese that had been laid out on small pieces of baguette.

"Oh, thank you! That sounds wonderful--I was just thinking that I could use a bite to hold me over until dinner," Sabine said, taking one of the slices. Marinette reached over to take one as well, but before she could bring the slice of the stinky cheese to her mouth to taste it, her mind was transported elsewhere...

"Master Fu!" Marinette cried out as she ran into the elderly Chinese man's apartment. "Chat Noir has disappeared! I can't defeat Style Queen without him, and the Lucky Charm told me to come here!"

Master Fu was sitting on the floor facing away from the door when he spoke. "Don't worry; Chat Noir is fine."

"Well, what's he doing then? Why isn't he helping me?" Marinette asked as she crossed the room, approaching Master Fu.

"He's just lost his Miraculous." Master Fu glanced at Marinette over his shoulder, who stumbled back in shock.

"What?! He's just lost his Miraculous?" Marinette clutched her head in her hands. "This is a disaster!"

"That tomcat's really got himself stuck up in a tree this time." A small, black Kwami said, lying on the floor in front of a plate of Camembert. The slices were nearly as big as his head, but he swallowed one down with ease, his mouth opening wide to accommodate the size of the piece of cheese.

"Oh--let me guess. You're Chat Noir's Kwami?" Marinette asked, pointing at the small spirit. He flew into the air, approaching the teenage girl, the smell of stinky feet and ammonia from the cheese growing stronger as he approached.

"Yes! He tends to copy me a bit too much; yet lately, he's been doing really silly things! In five thousand years, I've never experienced such an irresponsible Miraculous owner! As a result, he's lost his ring and it's just me that's able to help you out..."

"Marinette?" The teenage girl snapped out of her reverie, looking over at her mother, whose face showed clear concern for her daughter's lack of attention. "Are you alright? You weren't answering me."

"O-oh, sorry, Maman," Marinette said, an embarrassed smile crossing her face as she rubbed the back of her head. "Just lost in thought. Are you ready to get the cheeses you need?"

"I've actually already gotten one of the staff to get them for me. I'm just waiting for her to bring them out."

"That’s great! And this is the last stop for today, right?" Sabine nodded in the affirmative, giving her daughter a smile. "I’m glad to hear that. I think the movie starts in a couple of hours, and we were going to go get something to eat first."

"Do you want me to drop you off at Alya's house, then?" Sabine asked. "It is on the way back to the bakery."

Marinette shook her head no. "I want a bit more driving practice first. I'll get us home and then walk from there. I need to grab a couple of things from the house anyway."

"All right." Before Sabine could say more, the clerk came forward with a handful of wrapped packages. Sabine handed her a few bills to cover the cost, and once she had her change, she and Marinette headed out to the car to make their way back home.

When they made it back to the bakery, Marinette rushed up to her bedroom, letting Tikki out of her purse as soon as she had the trapdoor shut. "Tikki, something weird happened at the store today," she said, the concern clear in her voice and on her face. "I just got completely swept up in a memory from years ago, all because of a little Camembert."

Tikki gave Marinette a reassuring smile, patting her on the hand gently. "It's okay, Marinette! It's just part of being a Miraculous holder. As you get older and gain more experience, parts of your power have a tendency to bleed out into your civilian life. Stronger senses, especially sight and smell, are common with Miraculous holders because it makes detecting danger a lot easier. And there has always been an affiliation between smell and memory."

"So you're saying my sense of smell is stronger because I'm a Miraculous holder? Why couldn't I have gotten better balance?" Marinette whined. "At least then I wouldn't be such a klutz all the time." Marinette had hoped that she would get more graceful as she got older and grew into her more adult body, but she was still the same butterfingers and trip-over-nothing girl she had been since collège. It was just that now there was a lot more of her to trip, since her growth spurt the summer she turned 15 that left her one of the tallest girls in her year.

"Don't worry, Marinette," Tikki said gently, trying to soothe her holder's frustration. "This is a good thing. It means you are becoming a better hero!"

"Yeah, I guess so… thanks, Tikki." Marinette gave her Kwami a weak smile. Before she could say more, her phone chirped, a text message from Alya catching her attention. "Oh crap! Adrien is going to be at the movies!" She jumped up from her bed, feverishly running to her closet and starting to tear through it, trying to find something better to wear than her usual Saturday grocery shopping clothes.

Across town, Adrien Agreste paced back and forth across his bedroom, muttering to himself while his Kwami sat on his computer desk with a plate of cheese. "I'm telling you, Adrien, you're gonna wear a hole in your floor if you keep doing that," Plagg said between bites.

"Thanks so much for the advice, Plagg," Adrien deadpanned. "This is serious, though. I don't know what to do… I still love Ladybug, but…"

"Who is it now? That sword girl again, or someone else?" Plagg asked. He could never keep straight who Adrien was crushing on, other than Ladybug, of course.

Adrien's cheeks went a bit pink as he admitted, "It's Marinette… you know, the girl with the pigtails from school?"

"Oh yeah, the bakery girl, right? I like her. She always brings you food. And since you're always on a diet…" Plagg grinned and patted his belly. "Croissants may not be as good as my beloved Camembert, but they're not bad."

"What are you, 90 percent stomach?" Adrien asked, not for the first time. "Anyway, yes, it's her. I know we've known each other for a while, but recently it feels like… I don't know how to describe it. When I see her, I feel the same way I do when I see My Lady."

"Kind of queasy in your stomach?" Plagg asked.

"Yeah, exactly!"

"Hot and flushed? Hands tingling? Can't think straight?"

"How did you know?"

"Sounds like bad cheese to me." Plagg polished off the last piece of cheese on the plate before letting out a massive burp. "You should really go get that checked out."

"Plagg! I'm being serious here!" Adrien huffed as he fell onto his bed spread-eagle, staring up at the ceiling. "I don't know what to do. I told Kagami years ago that I wasn't giving up on Ladybug, and I don't want to, but… I really like Marinette, too, and it doesn't feel right trying to date her as Adrien when she only knows half of me."

"If you're looking at it that way, isn't it the same way with Ladybug? She only knows you as Chat Noir; she doesn't know you're Adrien Agreste."

"Yeah, but… Ladybug is the one who doesn't want us revealing our civilian identities. If she said it was okay, I'd tell her who I am in a heartbeat." Adrien rolled over onto his side, staring at his computer screen, which had a picture of Ladybug from Alya's blog as the background. "But I'm willing to wait forever if that's what it takes…" Adrien took a deep breath to let out a sigh, but he wrinkled his nose as he was hit with the sudden odor of his backpack. "Ugh, Plagg, you have got to stop hiding Camembert in my school bag. People are going to notice the smell." He sat up, reaching over the edge of his bed to pick up his bag so he could start cleaning it out… but it wasn't there.

He glanced around the room in confusion, eyes darting from his desk to the bench of his piano, all the way to the doorway before he spotted his bag at the base of his skate ramp. "What the hell?" He stepped over, picking up the bag and giving it a delicate sniff. "Yep, definitely what I was smelling… but how did I smell it from all the way across the room?" he wondered aloud.

Plagg zipped over and phased through the material of the bag, fighting with the zipper from inside until he'd made a large enough hole to pull the hidden cache of cheese through. "For your information, I wasn't hiding it, I was aging it. In your gym socks. Gives it more flavor." Adrien wrinkled his nose again and gagged a little as Plagg popped the slice of cheese in his mouth.

"Have I told you that you're disgusting?" the teen muttered.

"I know; it's a gift," Plagg replied flippantly. "Anyway, I'm stuffed. I'm going to take a nap."

"Wait a minute! You didn't answer my question. What's going on with my sense of smell?"

"Oh, that! Yeah, it's a Miraculous holder thing. You're becoming more attuned to your powers or something. Basically your senses are getting stronger."

"So, what does that mean? I'm just going to be in smell overload from now on?"

"Oh, no, not everything. It's mostly going to be Kwami and Akuma-related stuff. You'll probably notice Ladybug or the other Miraculous holders' smells more, as well as being more aware of them even without having to see them."

"Okay, that's actually really cool. So does that apply to Ladybug, Réna Rouge and Carapace too?"

"Yes to Ladybug, but probably not as much for the other two; just because they haven't been Miraculous holders as long or used their powers as much."

"That makes sense, I guess. I'll have to talk to Ladybug about it the next time we patrol together."

"Mm." Plagg flew up to look Adrien in the eyes before reaching out to poke him in the forehead. "Don't you have something to do before that, though? I distinctly remember you getting a text message from your DJ friend…"

"Oh, shit! I completely forgot!" Adrien rushed over to his closet, flipping through his extensive wardrobe. "What should I wear? He said Alya invited Marinette... "

"I doubt she will care what you're wearing," Plagg called out. Under his breath, he added, "In fact, she'd probably prefer you wear nothing at all."

"What was that?"

"Oh, nothing! Just lamenting the fact that I ate all my cheese."

"You know, if you keep this up I'm going to start calling you 'pig' instead of Plagg," Adrien teased. He ended up just sticking with his usual outfit, quickly running a brush through his hair and pulling his shoes on before he held open his shirt for his Kwami to hide inside.

"Try it, and see if I respond next time an Akuma shows up," Plagg replied; despite his threatening words, his voice didn't carry any real heat.

"All right, all right, I'll get you some more Camembert after the movie. Think you can handle waiting that long?" Adrien asked.

"I suppose… as long as I can have some popcorn at the movie."

"Deal."

Sooooooo, this year for NaNoWriMo I was inspired by the end of season 2 of Miraculous Ladybug (especially the episode “Style Queen”) to write my very first ML fanfic!

I’ll be posting chapters as I finish them, so they are un-betaed. When I finish the whole fic (and when November is over) I’ll go back and edit and post to AO3. Please let me know what you think!

[consulting-celiac-in-the-tardis]

5 Surprisingly Awesome Things About Having Celiac Disease

New blog post! When you learn you have celiac disease, you might initially focus on the things you lose, like the ability to eat gluten or eat whatever or wherever you wanted. However, as I discussed with tons of other gluten free teens back during the first annual Gluten Free Teen Summit (click here if you have no idea what Summit I'm talking about!), there are some surprising "perks" about having celiac disease.

So in honor of National Celiac Awareness Day on September 13, today I’m rounding up five surprisingly awesome things about having celiac disease, from being the first one to eat at the buffet to finally feeling like the healthy badass you really are! 

1. You are more motivated to try new (gluten free) foods.  

One of the best questions asked during the Gluten Free Teen Summit’s Teen Panel was our favorite gluten free food/product. It was hilarious to hear everyone in the audience moan when they heard one of their favorite foods or gasp at the fact that a delicious gluten free pizza actually existed. 

Finding tasty gluten free products can be challenging, and it requires a lot of trial and error (even if you do your research and go with gluten free foods that a lot of celiacs give a big thumbs up). On the plus side, though, this search for the gluten free “holy grail” or whatever food you’re missing (whether it’s pizza, cookies, sandwich bread, etc) often pushes us out of our comfort zones and motivates us to try new foods!

Personally, I was a suuuuuper bland eater pre-celiac. I’d never even tried sweet potatoes, avocado, sushi, dragonfruit, olives and countless other foods I now love. Once gluten was taken out of my edible equation, though, I felt extra determined to try as many gluten free foods as possible and expand my dietary boundaries. And let me tell ya...while I still certainly miss plenty of gluten-filled foods, my gluten free life is pretty dang delicious now and my diet is even more diverse than it used to be.  

2. You're a VIP when eating out. 

One of the surprising benefits of celiac disease that one of the Gluten Free Teen Summit attendees mentioned was getting first dibs on the buffet. I actually haven’t eaten at a buffet since my celiac disease diagnosis, which is why I’ve never seen this “awesome” side effect of celiac disease first-hand. I do know, though, that when I’m at a potluck with friends or family, I often go first to make sure there’s no accidental cross-contamination from people serving themselves and switching utensils, etc.

On a related note, several of the gluten free teens also pointed out that they get special attention from chefs when they eat at buffets. Although eating out gluten free can be scary, it is true that celiac disease often makes us VIP diners (especially if you’re at a very food allergy aware location like Disney World). So if you ever feel self-conscious or uncomfortable because of your “special diet,” flip those feelings on their head and say, “Heck yeah, I am special, for better or for worse!” And when you find a restaurant or a chef that makes eating gluten free "easy" and delicious, give your thanks and spread the word!

3. You may grow closer to your family and true friends.  

After I gave my presentation on being gluten free in college, I stayed back and chatted with some of the audience for a few minutes. My heart absolutely melted when one of the younger GF Teen Summit attendees said something like, “I am grateful that celiac disease brought me a lot closer to my family and some of my friends ‘cause they try really hard to make sure I’m safe and can eat stuff OK.” 

My journey from celiac disease diagnosis to being healthy gluten free is one of the most challenging experiences I’ve been through in my life. I know my parents hurt as much as me when I was severely underweight and malnourished from celiac disease, and my health struggles certainly caused tension in my family during the worst points. However, I’ve also seen exactly what that young lady was talking about. I’ve seen:

How much time, money and effort parents are willing to put into making their pantry and kitchen celiac safe

How much parents will educate themselves about celiac disease to ensure their child gets what he/she needs

How flexible real friends will be in where we eat out, what we do for fun, etc. to make sure my dietary restrictions can be accommodated

Unfortunately, not everyone will “get” your celiac. Many attendees of the summit also mentioned being bullied at school because of their dietary restrictions. However, the people who really care about you will do their best to help you adapt to and thrive on a gluten free diet. And those close relationships and solid sources of support are priceless. 

4. Sometimes, your food is better than the gluten-filled alternative! 

One of the common stereotypes about the gluten free diet is that all gluten free food is “gross,” “bland” or less tasty than gluten-filled alternatives. But that is one heck of a big lie! 

The truth is, there is good gluten free food and there is bad gluten free food, just like there are tasty and gross gluten-filled foods. Some of the funniest moments of life with celiac disease, though, are seeing peoples’ faces when your gluten free food actually smells (and tastes) a lot better than the “normal” food being offered. 

Case in point? One of the gluten free teens made me laugh out loud when she talked about one particularly memorable snack time during state testing in elementary school. To make sure she wouldn't feel left out, the girl's mom had dropped a gluten free cupcake off at the school. “All the other kids who teased me for eating gluten free had got carrot sticks for a snack!” She laughed. “While I got to eat my big chocolate cupcake. Who’s eating the tastiest food now!?!” 

I’ve never had quite an epic gluten vs. gluten free food battle before, but I have had people drooling over the gluten free pizza I packed for myself when I attended Papa John’s pizza parties at club meetings in college. Sometimes, the celiac eater really does get the best end of the edible bargain! 

5. You can actually feel AWESOME! 

One of the most awesome things about celiac disease? Changing your diet can actually help you feel better and stop struggling with celiac symptoms!

Of course, I’m not minimizing how hard going gluten free can be. Plus, it's important to recognize that, for some people like me, going gluten free wasn’t enough to start healing after a celiac diagnosis. However, compared to other diseases with no cures at all or expensive or painful treatments, it is empowering in a way to be able to largely influence your health with celiac disease by what you eat.

One day, a gluten free diet may not be the only treatment for celiac disease. At the GF Teen Summit, I was excited to hear that progress is being made on medications that, along with a gluten free diet, could improve celiacs’ overall gut and intestinal health. But until then, try to focus less on what you "lose" with a gluten free diet and more about the health, vitality and happiness you can gain!

After all, nothing is more awesome than waking up a few months (or even a few years, depending on your pre-diagnosis intestinal damage) after being diagnosed with celiac disease and going gluten free, and realizing that you actually feel better than you have in ages. 

What I Hope You Remember This National Celiac Disease Awareness Day

If you have celiac disease or know someone who does, you certainly know that celiac disease is NOT all unicorns and rainbows and gluten free cake. Celiac disease changes far more than just your diet, and it comes with its own fair share of challenges. 

However, I truly believe that focusing on any positives you can find in your chronic illness plays an important role in feeling good with a medical diagnosis. You shouldn't forget how flippin' AWESOME you are ether, with or without your chronic illness!

And if you have celiac disease and were feeling alone or recently got a celiac diagnosis and are terrified of how your life will change, I hope this post made you smile, made you laugh or just made you realize that celiac disease is definitely NOT the end of the world. It’s just the start of a new and often equally delicious and awesome life. 

Like this post? Tweet me some love by clicking here: "In honor of National #CeliacDiseaseAwareness Day, I'm sharing 5 surprisingly awesome things about having #celiacdisease and eating #glutenfree. Need help seeing the bright side of #celiac or the #glutenfreediet? Read my whole post here --> http://bit.ly/2CzuKof"

What's one thing that has changed for the better since your celiac disease diagnosis? I'd love to hear! 

via Blogger https://ift.tt/2NHY4xe

[smartgirlsaremean]

The Reluctant Guardian - Chapter 3

The Reluctant Guardian

Fandom: OUAT

Pairing: Rumbelle

Rating: T

Summary: Roderick Gold is about to complete his revenge on the Jones family by inheriting the family fortune and estate, but to his surprise there is one late acquisition: Jones was guardian to a young woman, and that guardianship now falls to Gold. Determined at first to marry her and make absolutely sure all of the Jones assets are under his control, he soon discovers that there is much more to Bella French than meets the eye.

Belle French values nothing so much as her independence, and would far rather die an old maid than lose even a moment of freedom. Her new guardian is intriguing, though, and the more she learns about his past the more questions she has. His reputation doesn’t quite match her own observations, and while she would love to uncover the mystery that is Roderick Gold, she must be very cautious lest she reveal her own secrets and ruin her own plans.

AO3

Chapter 3

When both their visitors were gone, Sophie Hammond finally looked up from her knitting. “Those men are going to be trouble, Belle,” she said firmly.

Belle was still staring at the door behind which Mr. Gold had disappeared. “Hmm?”

Sophie laughed. “Trouble!”

“Oh, don’t be ridiculous, Sophie,” Belle protested, her cheeks warming. “It will be a very comfortable, quiet summer, I’m sure.”

“With Sir Gregory sniffing about and Mr. Gold growling him away from the door? Don’t wager on it, missy.”

“He didn’t seem very keen on Greg’s suit, did he?” Belle smiled.

Sophie’s sharp eyes looked over her young charge. “Oh, Belle,” she sighed, “you must be careful, comprenez-vous ?”

“ Oui, mon amie ,” Belle answered, “but I seriously doubt Mr. Gold has any evil intentions.”

“ His intentions! I am talking about yours. I saw the look on your face just now.”

“I can’t help that my new guardian is so handsome,” Belle argued, her blush deepening. “Or that he has such a lovely voice.”

“He’s twice your age, child.”

“Mm. Maybe more than that,” Belle mused.

“Belle!” Sophie laughed in spite of herself at her young friend’s dreamy tone. “That is not supposed to be a mark in his favor!”

Smiling sheepishly, Belle shrugged. “You know I’ve never cared much for young men. I suppose we’ve discovered why.”

Sophie sighed and picked up her knitting again. “Do show the man a little mercy, then, cherie ,” she said dryly. “We can’t have his heart giving out, can we?”

Belle and Sophie were packed and waiting for Mr. Gold well before eight o’clock. They had few personal effects, but those they had were precious to them. Mr. Gold, who had hired two extra carriages and a veritable army of men to move the household, eyed the modest number of boxes and trunks with doubt.

“Is this really all?” he asked suspiciously.

“It is,” Belle smiled, her hands clasped demurely before her.

With a sigh, her guardian dismissed half the men and one of the carriages. “We could almost have carried the whole lot ourselves,” he grumbled. Belle noticed that his brogue was thicker when he grumbled. It was devilishly attractive.

“Perhaps,” she allowed, and bit back a grin when Gold tried to lift one of her boxes himself.

“Damnation, girl!” he grimaced, abandoning the attempt. “Did you pack up the bricks from the fireplace?” Sophie cleared her throat loudly and Gold muttered an apology for his language.

“No, my books.”

“You’re taking the library? Wouldn’t that go to Garnet with the rest of the house?”

“My father’s books he is quite welcome to keep. These are my own collection.”

Mr. Gold looked at the pile again. “How many of those contain books?”

“About half.”

His eyes widened. “You’re aware Jones had a library of his own.”

“I am.”

“And that it has, in fact, a great number of books you’re more than welcome to read.”

“Yes.”

His eyes searched hers and she met his gaze with a gentle smile. At last he shrugged. “So be it.”

He motioned for the men to take the boxes away and stood in the hall with both hands resting on his cane. Belle noticed that although many of the hired men were taller and larger than he, his authority was unmistakable. In much less time than she had supposed, every package had its place and she was sharing kind farewells with the staff of her father’s townhouse. The housekeeper, who had known her from girlhood, even shed a few tears over her. Belle assured them all of her gratitude and her conviction that they would find the new baronet a good master. Through it all, she felt Mr. Gold’s eyes upon her, and she wondered what he meant by watching her so closely.

When they were all situated in his carriage, he lost no time telling her his thoughts. “That was an interesting little scene,” he remarked. “Are you always so familiar with the servants?”

Belle looked at him quizzically. “They served Papa and me very well, some of them as long as I’ve been alive. Why would I not value and respect them?”

He shook his head. “That was more than respect. You like them. You care about them.”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because they are fellow humans of worth equal to my own.” Her voice sharpened and she was inwardly stamping down a quite irrational amount of disappointment. She had so hoped he was different.

“Oh, dear,” he all but whispered, “you’re one of those, are you?”

“Those?”

The corner of his mouth lifted in a smirk. “I do hope you can keep your...er... sentimentality to yourself, dearie. Might make it difficult to marry you off, and then I’ll never have you off my hands.”

“That would be a terrible shame,” Belle said indifferently.

“Dreadful.”

Belle saw Sophie look pointedly over her spectacles and dropped the subject. Latin and geometry she understood, but the labyrinthine rules of polite conversation she had never quite mastered. She knew she often toed the line between impertinence and rudeness, but she could rarely determine where exactly that line was, especially as it seemed to move depending on her audience.

She had the feeling she could be rather shockingly rude to Mr. Gold without consequence.

“How long did you know Mr. Jones?” she asked when the air between them felt a little less thick.

“We were neighbors for twenty years.”

“So long! And yet I’ve never heard of you.”

“I could say the same of you,” he snapped. Belle was not cowed.

“I suppose there wouldn’t have been occasion to mention either of us to the other. He could hardly have expected us to know each other.”

Mr. Gold merely raised his eyebrows. Belle wondered disrespectfully if his eyebrows ever grew tired of moving up and down in that way. She considered asking him, but the slowing of the carriage drew her attention and she saw that they had arrived. Mr. Gold handed both of them out and gave them over into the care of the housekeeper, who promised them refreshment in twenty minutes’ time. Mr. Gold disappeared to Belle knew not where, and she and Sophie were quite properly left to inspect their accommodations on their own.

A knock on his study door drew Gold’s attention from the letter on his desk. At his invitation Miss French entered, her keen eyes taking in every aspect of the room, but drawn especially to the bookshelves.

“Sit,” he said curtly.

Miss French raised a brow and did as he bid. “My rooms are lovely, thank you,” she said demurely, “and so well appointed!”

“We’ll be leaving for Blackhall within the week, so don’t get too comfortable,” he replied.

“Oh, will we?”

“No use staying here.”

“I suppose not,” she said wistfully.

“You can’t dance or go to parties in mourning, dearie.”

“I know that, but there are other amusements I’d rather looked forward to.”

“No theater or concerts for you either.”

“Obviously. But there are several new scientific papers I haven't been able to send for yet, and an exhibition at the museum, and later this week I’d hoped to attend the lecture on...” Her voice trailed away when she met his eyes. “What is it? You’re looking at me as if I’ve grown another head.”

Gold supposed he must be, because his jaw had dropped at some point and his eyes were beginning to water. He remedied both of those problems and then smirked at his ward.

“I begin to understand,” he sneered with a malice he did not really feel. “The books, the independence, the scholarly pursuits. You,” he pointed at his ward, “are a bluestocking, Miss French.”

“Of the deepest, bluest shade,” she smiled in response. “How could I not be, with a father like my darling Papa?” When Gold merely raised his eyebrows, Miss French elaborated. “He was a scientist. An inventor.”

“Do tell.”

“Nothing particularly useful or noteworthy.” Miss French waved a hand as if to bat away any expectations of greatness. “Mostly he liked to cause explosions in his laboratory and invent gadgets for menial tasks. At one point I had a clockwork tea service that would put sugar in my tea for me.”

“Interesting.”

“Especially as I was unsure how to make it stop without hitting it with something.”

A snort of laughter escaped Gold.

“Papa was so disappointed. He’d hoped I’d eventually discover how to improve it.”

“Are you also of a scientific mind then?” The thought was alarming.

“Not like Papa - though I suppose no one was or ever will be quite like Papa - but he was adamant that I supplement my lady’s education with a few more…less decidedly feminine accomplishments. My father thought no subject unfit for his daughter. What my governesses refused to teach, he taught me himself.”

“Including chemistry and archaeology, I suppose.”

“And mathematics and politics and philosophy and Greek and Latin. I’m not a master of any of them, heaven knows, but if father taught me one thing more thoroughly than anything else, it was to love to learn.”

“Well, your,” Gold cleared his throat, “ intellectual pursuits notwithstanding, we will leave for Yorkshire in two days. I trust you can be ready.”

Miss French’s pretty lips pursed as she thought. “We can send some of our things by cart, can’t we?”

“Certainly. But what could you possibly need that - no, don’t tell me! Your books.”

Miss French smiled and gave a little shrug of her shoulders. “You did say it would be a long and lonely summer. At least I’ll have all my dearest friends with me.” She rose. “Will there be anything else?”

“Yes, dearie, one more thing.”

She resumed her seat and raised her eyebrows.

“I was not being flippant when I spoke of husbands. I’m an old widower with no marital aspirations, and I will not play kindly uncle to you longer than absolutely necessary. When your mourning period ends, you will be presented at court and no doubt inundated with suitors.”

“Inundated! Really!” Miss French’s eyes sparkled. “Not deluged, engulfed, or overrun?”

“All four, most likely.” Gold ruthlessly fought down a smile. “I won’t expect you to take the first dunderhead who expresses an interest, especially as it’s likely to be the lummox himself. I do, however, expect you to consider your suitors very seriously. Ideally, you will be married at the end of the season.”

“You are very optimistic about my marriage prospects. What shall we do if this plethora of proposals doesn’t come to pass?”

“It will.”

“What makes you so certain?”

“Your fortune of course.”

The twinkle in her eyes was instantly doused. “Oh, yes. Of course. I am now rich enough to buy the very best husband on the market.”

“Precisely.”

“Let me tell you something, Mr. Gold,” she said seriously, leaning forward. “My fortune is not dependent on your whims. Neither is it contingent upon my marrying. It will be entirely at my disposal when I reach my majority next year - won’t it?”

“What do you…”

“Won’t it?”

“Yes,” Gold sighed in defeat. “Yes, it will.”

“Excellent. Then you may spare me your instructions about marriage and husbands. My father left me with the means to decide my own fate, and I will not allow you to bully me into any such decision.”

“Well, if you aren’t going to marry, what exactly are you going to do?”

“I never said I wouldn’t marry, but either way my plans are my business and no one else’s.” Miss French rose again with an air that would put the Queen herself to shame. “Will there be anything more, sir?”

Gold stared at her, marveling at the way her icy eyes grew frostier with each passing second. He held his silence a little longer than necessary on principle, and to see just how cold her gaze could become. When he fancied he might be able to see his breath on the air, he said, “No. That is all, Miss French.”

She curtsied with mock solemnity and swept from the room, and Gold let out a breath he hadn’t known he was holding. Hell, but she was magnificent. He was beginning to understand that the only safe reaction to Bella French was to avert one’s eyes and make noncommittal noises. Looking directly at her was akin to staring at the sun, and engaging her in conversation could tie one up in verbal knots. She was not one to play by conversational rules, and Gold was dismayed to find that he was often out of his element with her. He was not one for the expected, but he found that he had always relied on a script of sorts: one in which he said the unexpected or unacceptable thing and his listeners reacted with proper shock and horror. With Miss French his outrageous words fell limply to the floor and she would gaze at them a moment, pick them up, use them to fashion words equally outrageous of her own, and fling those words back at him with deadly accuracy.

He was no match for her, and he was used to being matchless.

[sleepyverstappens]

Let me share this whole new world with you (Chapter 4/6)

Title: Let me share this whole new world with you

Pairing: Daniel Ricciardo/Max Verstappen

Rating: Gen/PG

Word Count: 7626

Tags: Oliver Verstappen-Ricciardo, Original Child Character, 5+1

Summary: Daniel retires

Read chapter 4 or Read from the start

4) Abu Dhabi, United Arab Emirates 2025 (Oliver is 4)

The Abu Dhabi paddock is the same as it’s always been, the beige walls of the accommodations, the Yas Viceroy hotel looming over the track, the team members eagerly looking forward to the winter break, to finally getting to spend proper time with their families, yet it all feels different to him this year. It all feels different because this will be the last ever race he’ll share with Dan, the last time he’ll be able to fight his husband in an F1 car. It feels like this race has both come really quickly, yet it also seems like forever ago that Dan told him he wanted to stop racing after this season.

He can remember that moment so clearly still, both of them tucked up in bed after the Monaco grand prix. Their own bed a welcome reprieve from the hotel beds they’d shared so often. They’d finally managed to get Oli to settle down, the excitement from the race weekend keeping their then 3-year-old up way past his bedtime, but after two extra bedtime stories he’d finally started to nod off.

They’d had their usual squabble over Max pressing his cold feet against Daniel’s legs, his husband complaining about the fact he’d apparently married a snowman. But when they’d finally settled down Dan hadn’t even complained about the phone blocking his view from Max’s face, the other man too deep in thought as Max mindlessly scrolled through his social media, nudging his head back against where Dan was playing with his hair and letting out a huff when he stopped. It had gotten him to draw his eyes away from his phone though, his eyes adjusting to his darker surroundings after staring at the bright phone screen for so long, when they came back into focus he’d found Dan staring back at him, teeth nibbling at his bottom lip nervously.

“I think I wanna stop after this year,” he’d whispered, barely audible, his mouth compressing in a tight line almost afraid of the words he’d just spoken.

And Max oblivious as ever had asked him “Stop with what?”

“Racing… well Formula One.”

“Why?” Max had asked, his eyes flitting over Daniel’s face, hoping it would all just be a joke. He couldn’t imagine not having Daniel there with him in the paddock, not being able to see his bright smile on the other side of the press pen. He wasn’t ready for it to be over yet.

“You’re not that old, you can keep going,” he’d continued on.

“But I… I just don’t real-, I guess I just don’t really want to anymore. It’s not gonna get any better, I’ll still only be fighting for 7th, if I’m lucky,” he’d huffed, and he’d just seemed so tired of it all. The Renault car hadn’t made the improvements Dan had been promised way back when he’d joined them, hell they had probably gotten worse after all the changes in 2021. Where Max had been fighting for his second World Championship with Charles, Daniel had been fighting for a few measly points. We’re still adjusting to the changes they’d said, but in the years following nothing much had changed apart from their ever growing list of excuses.  

He’d seen Daniel’s frustrations, seen the longing looks he couldn’t always hide in time whenever Max added yet another trophy to his prize cabinet. But whilst he could understand Dan’s decision there was this selfish part of him that wanted him to stay, to struggle on with a recalcitrant car and a floundering team, just so Max could have him there with him. To have someone to share it all with, the highs and the lows of this crazy world they lived in. But in the end he knew nothing he said would be able to stop Dan, he couldn’t back in 2018 and he couldn’t now seven years later, because whilst he may be known as the stubborn one in their relationship, once Daniel had made up his mind there was nothing that could break his resolve.  

So here they were now, in the Abu Dhabi paddock finishing off a season like they had so often, but now there was something hanging over them. Not a dark cloud, because after Dan had announced his retirement he’d seen a different side of him. Someone more free, without the worries of next year’s car hanging over him. Someone who still fought for the best result possible, but someone who would take in every single moment and appreciate it for what it really was whilst doing so. Someone that appreciated the chance he’d gotten to drive one of the 20 fastest cars for the last 14 years, but was ready to hand over the batton to someone else. But it still felt off, neither of them knowing what this massive change in their future would bring. What it would do to them and their relationship, to their family.

He doesn’t have long to reminisce though, as someone from the team is already beckoning him over, telling him that Vicky got held up in traffic but that there will be a team meeting right after his media duties. As he’s filled in on the schedule for today, Daniel is whisked away towards the Renault accommodations getting his own briefing and all the while he’s got Oliver tugging on his sleeve trying to get his attention.

“Hold on honey, papa needs to listen to what Mike has to say, okay,” he said, ruffling Oli’s hair with a smile before he turned his attention back towards Mike. Turns out Lance was sick and he needed to fill his spot at the press conference.

---

They seat him right next to Daniel, of course they do, hoping for that last bit of Maxiel banter. And dammit why is he getting emotional, he should be happy that at least one of them doesn’t have to suffer through these damn press conferences anymore. But then again whenever he got to share that desk with Daniel they never seemed so bad, even if it meant getting sprayed by water every now and then.

Most of the questions are for Dan, with a few directed at himself as well, but poor Antonio and Kevin only get one or two questions and even those are about Daniel. It was to be expected of course, especially with Abu Dhabi usually not being that interesting of a race weekend, the championship already decided in Charles’ favour back in Austin, but it doesn’t make him stop wishing for actual proper questions for once. He doesn’t mind answering questions when they’re about the racecraft, in depth questions about how he sets up the car over a weekend, the work they put in back at the factory, but he never gets asked those questions, they don’t get them the clicks like the overhyped rivalry between Charles and him does.

The thirty minutes of the press conference go by relatively quick, Daniel’s voice lulling him into a drowsy state, so much so that when Tom thanks them for their time he’s actually the last one to take off his mic and scramble away from the press centre.  

Vicky is there waiting for them when they get out of the conference, clearly having made it out of the traffic, but as they get closer they can see the worried look on her face.

“Hey Vicky, what’s wrong?”

“Okay, don’t start panicking, Aurélie and some mechanics are already looking for him, but Oliver is missing.”

“What?!” They say in unison. And even though she told them not to panic, panic is already crawling up his chest, his eyes searching his surroundings for a glimpse of blond hair.

“Emily came to greet me and we looked away for 1 second and he’d already run off. We’ve already searched the Red Bull hospitality, but we can’t find him there. I called Aurélie immediately, figuring he may have gone to Renault, she’s searching there now.”

“Okay let’s go help them,” Daniel said next to him, having found his voice before Max who was still gripped by the panic inside of him. His son was gone. They’d told him to never run off on his own and he’d always listened to them, even during his worst tantrums he made sure to not stray away from them. And now, now he’d snuck off without anyone noticing? Oliver loved Emily, the girl always happy to look after him whenever both Max and Daniel had to be somewhere and they’d taken him along with them to the track.

He felt a hand grip his own, tugging on it lightly to get him to follow. He met Daniel’s gaze, whilst he may look calm enough to anyone else, Max could see the worry, the panic in his husband’s eyes.

They quickly made it to the Renault hospitality, finding Aurélie running through the halls of the little building, the woman starting to look more and more frantic as she didn’t catch a glimpse of Oliver anywhere.

“I can’t find him anywhere Dan, I’m so sorry.”

“Hey, hey, it’s not your fault, he can be a slippery little one, I’m always looking for him around the house,” Daniel tried to reassure her. It was true, Oliver had a knack of finding the most random places around the house to hide in, leaving them to look for him for ages until he finally decided to pop his head back out again. They’d once found him hidden at the back of the attic storage cabinet at his mother’s house, happily playing with his toys in his little hideaway.

Not having found him inside the Renault hospitality they made their way back out again, heading towards the only other place where they would expect Oliver to maybe run off to, the garages. They’re halfway there when they both breathe out a sigh of relief, because across the paddock they could see Hugo, Daniel’s number one mechanic, walking up to them, Oliver securely held in his strong arms. The little boy was babbling away to the broad mechanic, Hugo nodding along at his words when suddenly Oliver’s eyes caught them.

“Daddy, Papa!” He shouted out at them, already reaching out for them and trying to wiggle his way out of Hugo’s grip, but the man held on to him easily not wanting the boy to run off once more.

“Found him wandering into the garage, apparently he’d been playing with some of your helmets for a while but he’d gotten bored all on his own.”

“Oliver, oh honey you’re here, we were so worried,” Max said, holding his arms out to take Oli from Hugo and hugging him close, the little boy confused at his father’s antics.

“Oli sweetie, you can’t just run off on your own.” Daniel wrapped his arms around both Max and Oliver, trying to look at their son sternly, but they were both just so relieved to have found him again they couldn’t really stay upset with him for long.

“Was just playing at R’no, won’t be ’llowed anymore next year.”

“Oh baby, why wouldn’t you be allowed anymore?”

“Cuz you’re not racing anymore.”

“You will always be allowed to play at Renault Oli, right Hugo?”

“Of course buddy, you’ll always be part of the fam just like your daddy,” the mechanic smiled, ruffling Oliver’s blond locks playfully.  

Max could see Daniel’s smile start to waver, the fact that this really was his last weekend as a Formula One racer really starting to sink in now. No amount of questions from the press could stop the trademark smile from disappearing from his husband’s face, but just hearing their son talk about next year like that, so innocently. To hear one of the closest members of his team say that he would always be part of their family, it finally started to crack the mask he’d so carefully put on these last few days, weeks.

It would be different, so completely different to what they’d gotten used to over these last couple of years. Their whole dynamic would change. Daniel would all of a sudden be a stay-at-home dad, or at least until he’d started to get the craving for fast cars again and decided to try his luck in some other racing series. He’d already mentioned Le Mans in passing, maybe rally car racing. He’d surely find his way back to the sound of roaring engines, to the speed of a car controlled by his crafty hands, but for now he’d stay at home with Oliver. With Oli and maybe his little brother or sister, they’d both whispered their wish of another child, sometime late at night with only the darkness around them to hear their words, the wish for another little baby in their life, to complete their family.