Ezrea R.

Forgot a word in Spanish, while speaking Spanish to me, but remembered it in English. Became weirdly quiet as they seemed to lose their entire sense of identity.

Used a literal translation of a Russian idiomatic expression while speaking English. He actually does this quite regularly, because he somehow genuinely forgets which idioms belong to which language. It usually takes a minute of everyone staring at him in confused silence before he says “….Ah….. that must be a Russian one then….”

Had to count backwards for something. Could not count backwards in English. Counted backwards in French under her breath until she got to the number she needed, and then translated it into English.

Meant to inform her (French) parents that bread in America is baked with a lot of preservatives. Her brain was still halfway in English Mode so she used the word “préservatifes.” Ended up shocking her parents with the knowledge that apparently, bread in America is full of condoms.

Defined a slang term for me……. with another slang term. In the same language. Which I do not speak.

Was talking to both me and his mother in English when his mother had to revert to Russian to ask him a question about a word. He said “I don’t know” and turned to me and asked “Is there an English equivalent for Нумизматический?” and it took him a solid minute to realize there was no way I would be able to answer that. Meanwhile his mom quietly chuckled behind his back.

Said an expression in English but with Spanish grammar, which turned “How stressful!” into “What stressing!”

From my bilingual parents:

- Only being able to do math in their original language. “Ok so that would beeeeee … *muttering* ocho por cuatro menos tres…”

- Losing words and getting mad at you about it. “Gimme the - the - UGH, ESA COSA AHI’ CARAJO. The thing, the oven mitt. Christ.”

- Making asides to you in Spanish even though you’ve told them to not do this as lots of people here speak Spanish. “Oye, mira esa, que cara fea.” “MOM FFS WE’RE IN A MEXICAN NEIGHBORHOOD.”

- Swears in English don’t count.

- Swears in Spanish mean you’d better fucking run, kid.

- Introducing you to English-only Americans using your Spanish name so that they mispronounce your name for all eternity because that’s what your mom said your name was. “Hi Dee-yanna!” “sigh, Just call me Diana.” “Yeah but your mom said your name was Dee-yanna.” 

- when vice versa, dropping English articles entirely. The, a, an: all gone. e.g. “I go to store and buy thing, I fix car and go to place.” This also happens when i am very tired 

- speaking English with heavy accent you don’t actually have - when my family and I are switching over fast, we say the English words in a very heavy Russian accent that mostly doesn’t show up otherwise 

bonus: 

- keysmashing in the wrong language when your keyboard is still switched over

The reason that everyone always looked miserable in old photos wasn’t that they took too long to take. Once photography became widespread it took only seconds to take a picture.

It was because getting your photo taken was treated the same as getting your portrait painted. A very serious occasion meant so thst your descendants would know that ypu existed and what you looked like.

But imagine:

it’s so warm and comfortable that Marinette just gets so used to wearing it

She wears it all the time as Ladybug once the season’s chill starts to seep into her bones

She keeps almost wearing it to school, so one day she makes herself a fairly plain one that matches the color scheme of her usual overshirt; white, dark grey, and pale pink.

But the thing is, the trim is white, the background is pink, the dots are grey

So one morning, when she’s in a rush and late for school, she doesn’t turn on her light.

It’s early and the sky is overcast, so she sees the two together and grabs one, thinking it’s the right one but in too much of a rush to do anything but grab

And then she’s out the door, yelling goodbye to her mother as she through the kitchen, snatching a snack on the way. 

Sabine tries to tell her that she’s not wearing her normal warm fuzzy (what looks like a poncho to me), but Marinette’s already gone

She rushes across the street and into the school building

Everyone’s already in the classroom, so she darts through the door, nearly stumbling on entry to the classroom after clambering up the steps two at a time

The teacher isn’t there yet so she dashes to her seat and drops down, not even paying attention to anyone

“Daaaaamn, girl,” Alya is dumbfounded, “I thought you were a bigger fan of Chat Noir!”

And Marinette’s confused and she looks down at herself and all the blood rushes from her face and all she can hear is the beating of her own heart as she realizes fuck this is the wrong thing oh fuck

And Adrien is just staring at her, green eyes wide, as he watches her reaction. And before she can cover for herself, he watches her expression turn into shock, then horror, and the way her eyes are the brightest blue he had ever seen, and the way her pigtails bounce

He knows in that instant as Marinette stutters through the explanation that she had made it because she knew she could, since she had her other one, and even though Alya laughs and accepts it because Marinette is a terrible liar Adrien can’t brush it off so easily

Because how could he ignore the fact that Marinette is Ladybug

the love of his life

and she’s been right behind him for months?

And he feels like he’s broken her trust, but it’s not his fault he found out, technically speaking, but he decides to try and find a way to show her who he is in the same way, by wearing is Chat Noir winter coat to class

She would recognize it, after all, because Ladybug had “commissioned” Marinette for both of their winter outfits (as in @thelastpilot‘s Rainy Days) 

But now he knows that the coat he wears as Chat was made by Ladybug herself oh God

He can’t not let her know that he knows, in the same mostly subtle way

Although his would be on purpose, he had to remind himself, and it gave him jitters because what if she liked Adrien even less than she liked Chat?

But Marinette is one of the sweetest people he knows, and while at first it was a shock to find she was his lady, he’s incredibly happy that its her and he find that he still wants her to know, even more now that he knows she’s so close to him

He’s a little disappointed when he realizes that he missed most of the rest of their conversation, but turns around quickly when Nino nudges him, raising an eyebrow

And Adrien zones out for the rest of the classes

At lunch, Marinette returns from the bakery with her usual warm fuzzy poncho and not the one she wears as Ladybug, and Alya remarks on the familiarity and teases that she should have seen how much Marinette liked Ladybug sooner

Adrien’s a little disappointed, but he knows now…and he had gone home for lunch just to get his coat, the coat

And when Marinette walks into the room and glances at him before turning to Alya, she stops in the middle of her words and turns to gape at him, blankly

And Alya sighs like this is normal and starts pulling her up the stairs

But before Marinette passes him Adrien gives her a Chat Noir wink and the red explodes on her cheeks as they puff out like she wants to give him a talking-to

And Adrien is incredibly proud of himself, thank you very much, because he didn’t chicken out

Marinette is the one distracted now

Because if Chat Noir likes Ladybug and Ladybug is Marinette who likes Adrien who is Chat Noir…doesn’t that mean that ADRIEN LIKES HER?

And she calls a meet-up that night as Ladybug because this NEEDS TO BE ADDRESSED because now they know

But everything is just as usual after they talk, and while they don’t talk about how much she likes Adrien or he likes Ladybug, they both have the nagging pull in the back of their minds that’s starting to give their beloved’s other half a chance

And they both think, someday, maybe.

Oh course it was. Of course it was who else- what- what did he even do with this information? Die? Pass out? Sing? He wasn’t quite sure, but it was undeniable. He knew it like it was fact, he understood it as truth like he did with gravity, time, space and every other unchangeable absolute. It wasn’t just in her reaction it was watching her react if that made any sense at all. The pull of her lips into that gasping expression, the blue of her eyes, the subtle but unmistakable bounce of her pigtails, it was in the way the red looked against her skin. How he didn’t give the both of them away right on the spot was a testament to his willpower, because he managed to turn in his seat, staring wide eyed down at the desk while she stuttered some excuse. He knew it was an excuse, a lie to cover herself, because he knew what it really meant. He knew it was her. How could he not he should have seen it so much sooner it was in EVERYTHING about her. It was HER, every single day sitting just behind him the love of his life. She had been right there, the whole entire time. And he had seen her, in some way or another he had seen that she was Ladybug. In the way she stood, the way she laughed, the way she spoke so clearly and defiantly when she spotted some injustice. He had seen her in the fledgling classroom crush he had tried to ignore. Oh dear god… it was her.

Just what the hell did he do now?! No seriously he’d love to know, where the hell did he go from here? He had violated the agreement, not of his own will but trust was broken nonetheless. He knew, and he shouldn’t, it was a promise they had made. So what should he just keep quiet? That hardly seemed fair, in fact it seemed even more dishonest he couldnt just KNOW and not tell her that- god she was Ladybug. CRAP. What did he do? It was amazing it wasnt BAD it was just ALOT to deal with all at once in class surrounded by his friends who were growing steadily more suspicious of his and Marinette alike. He had to tell her. He had to tell her he was Cat Noir it was the only way to be fair but…

His thoughts petered off. His hands balled up into fists on the table top as his brain turned toxic and uncertin. What was the right move here… would she hate him even more? Would knowing that Adrien and Cat Noir were the same would that…

No. Not her. Not his Marinette.

When he thought of her in that capacity he felt warmth burning in his chest, because all of his love and devotion was now transferred on this more than deserving girl. This girl who was so kind and talented and brave and beautiful and… 

Marinette was angry with herself. It was such a stupid, stupid mistake, but it had been so easy to make! If only she hadn’t made another that was identical, she never would have had this problem. Or maybe she would have slipped up sooner?

She groaned to herself, running a frustrated hand through her hair as she headed back up the stairs of the bakery. The first thing she’d do was tuck her Ladybug winter wear back into her closet, where it should have been, instead of hanging by the door with her casual one. And then she’d take her usual one back down to lunch with her mother and wear it back to school instead.

It was a flawless plan. It might make her a little conspicuous at school, but if anyone was going to think that dull, boring Marinette was Ladybug just from a coat, she was already in trouble.

But trouble couldn’t even begin to describe the rest of her day.

Alya’s ruthless teasing as they reentered the classroom together was to be expected, but Marinette couldn’t help glancing up at Adrien as usual when they walked through the door. As usual, he was beautiful and his golden hair was shining and his green eyes were mischievous and Chat’s winter coat looked so good on him–wait, what?

She had to do a double-take, but it was unmistakable. She’d made that coat by hand for a very flirtatious, very not Adrien feline superhero, so why was Adrien Agreste, the cutest boy she had ever laid eyes on, wearing something that could only be the actual item itself? She could even see the telltale stitching she’d turned into the words Chat Noir instead of Marinette along the hood, and only one person would have been close enough to see the delicate silver words, aside from herself. 

“C’mon, Marinette, class is about to start!” Alya sighed, laughing, as she propelled her towards their seats…behind Adrien, oh my God.

But it had to be a mistake, Marinette reasoned, because Adrien was sweet, and perfect, and handsome, and smirking at her like Chat Noir.

And he winked.

She felt the heat rushing to her cheeks, but she also wanted to give him a what for right there…but no, Marinette, you can’t, you’re in CLASS, ran through her mind and she found herself collapsing into the seat behind him.

It was a miracle that Alya hadn’t recognized the Chat Noir inspired fashion of Adrien Agreste, but perhaps, since it was black and she hadn’t been very close to the superheroes because of the cold, she didn’t notice. But Marinette, on the other hand, was staring even more than usual at the back of the blond boy’s head. She was examining the fit, how the jacket was loose around his shoulders without the leather and thinking of ways to make it fit him–but it’s Chat’s, not Adrien’s!

She dropped her forehead on her desk.

How had she never noticed? Her feline superhero companion, the one who flirted with her constantly, was sitting right in front of her in class. She stared at him so often that it should have been obvious! The shape of his jaw, the slope of his shoulders, the way Adrien’s hair looked after gym, before they made it back to the locker room and he tidied his appearance up. The toothy grin he sometimes gave, the twinkle in his eye before he told Nino a horrible joke…all the signs were there, and she had missed them. And she claimed to like him! 

And how had he not noticed, when he claimed to like her?!

She froze, the sounds of class fading in the background.

Wait. If Chat Noir liked Ladybug and Marinette was Ladybug, but she liked Adrien but Adrien was Chat Noir…didn’t that mean…?

WE LIKE EACH OTHER?!

It took all the self-control the baker’s daughter possessed in her tiny frame not to stand up and scream at the realization. Instead she bit her lip, eyes blown wide as she stared at the back of his head blankly. After a few long moments, she dropped her head heavily to her desk again, then murmured, “Ow…” as much of the class laughed and Chloe made a snide remark.

Alya’s hand rubbed soothing circles on her shoulders, but all Marinette could see was the flash of green as Adrien turned around, concern in his eyes, for a brief moment before the teacher called for attention.

Her heart fluttered.

It was probably going to be hard, but Ladybug and Chat Noir had to have a conversation.

However he did not have long to wait after school ended. He was in his room just as the sun was setting when Plagg piped up.

“You’ve got a call! This should be fun.”

“Mm.” Adrien responded, his slight nervousness returning. He had been having fun but now came the conversation, the real heavy part of all of this. Would she hate him? Would she say they shouldnt hang out? Would he even get a chance? Or had he lost his a long time ago… Crap.

He was freaking himself out.

“Let’s do it,” Adrien said, his nervousness evident to even Plagg who gave him a sympathetic pat on the shoulder before vanishing into the ring.

Cat Noir looked at his flashing baton for a moment before answering.

“Hello m-”

“The tower, now.” She said sharply, then her voice faltered and seemed unsure, adding, “Please.”

“Be there in a minute,” he answered just as tensely. He hung up, taking a deep shaky breath. He grabbed his coat from its place on the couch and leapt out the window, sprinting for the tower and whatever uncertain future awaited him there.

And the fact that it was Adrien, sweet, perfect, Adrien…she just couldn’t.

A call to him and a plea, and she was pacing the beams of the Eiffel Tower, twirling her yo-yo at her side. She knew his home was close, now–even closer than hers–but she’d already been on the tower before she’d realized she was going to call him out, so she respected the few minutes she had to wait.

She would have respected it more if she didn’t keep recalling all the times that her stupid cat had pushed his luck in class today. She’d almost snapped and told him to stop…but that’s not how Marinette acted around Adrien, and now it was even harder to keep everything straight. The fact that he was interacting with her more than usual had Alya excited and normally Marinette would have been positively giddy. But this…? His flirtatious winks, the one time he’d daringly called her my lady–thankfully out of Alya’s earshot or the designer would never hear the end of it–and the puns. She respected them, sure, because it was part of her best friend’s personality, but hearing them out of her crush’s mouth was an entirely new experience. 

A nagging thought in the back of her mind reminded her that she enjoyed that side of Chat, as annoying as it could be, but she shoved it away.

She was mad at him…or so she told herself.

“Evening, Princess,” the voice nearly startled her into falling, but her luck was intact as she regained her balance and turned to the black-clad superhero where he perched on his extended baton in front of her.

Hands on her hips and feet planted wide to hide her nervousness, she greeted, “Chat.”

“Baby flamingo practicing standing on one leg”