Hi! So, I read this 'Fuck You flower' flower shop au prompt a long time ago, but never really found an opportunity to write about it. But recently got inspired because of this particular fandom, so here we are.
For those familiar with my other works, I'd like to apologise for the extra long hiatus. I intend on putting up new chapters soon, especially for 'A Life-changing Experience', so look forward to it!
Without further ado, enjoy!
Disclaimer: I do not own Miraculous Ladybug, only this storyline.
It was a calm, quiet day in Miraculous Buds, with a wide variety of beautiful flowers, bountiful and blooming. Bright rays of sunlight streamed through the glass illuminating the shop, and the whole room smelled simply divine, being filled with the natural scents of the flowers. Outside, people were strolling by, and some would stop by the windows to admire the bright blooms and eye-catching arrangements, before hurrying on to their business elsewhere.
Marinette hummed along with the song that was currently playing through the speakers as she tended to a pot of daffodils. Miraculous Buds was a store she opened and now co-managed with a friend, upon graduating from university. Said friend recently got married and is now on her honeymoon with her husband, hence Marinette was left to handle the shop all by herself. Not that she minded, after all, she loved her job. She enjoyed growing and tending to flowers from a young age.
As she began watering the other flowers and plants, she let out a relaxed sigh - the shop was currently empty, as it was most of the time, which meant she could enjoy some private time all to herself. Setting down the watering can, she returned to her spot behind the counter and leaned back into her swivel armchair. Her gaze drifted towards the large glass window and she began observing the passersby outside.
There's a teenage girl, all dressed up, happily waving over to someone who is most likely her boyfriend. A rather dashing man in a neat, pressed suit with a leather briefcase in hand, obviously headed for work. A tanned young man with spectacles, a red baseball cap and large headphones around his neck - who looked to be about the same age as herself - had a rather agitated expression on his face. Well, either he woke up on the wrong side of bed, or he was clearly out for murder and- wait, is he coming in this direction?
Marinette blinked, slightly wary as the young man's snarling face grew closer to her shop. Soon, he arrived at the doorstep, and all but slammed open the glass doors, causing the chimes to crash noisily. For a moment, Marinette was worried that either the door or the chimes might be cracked from the sheer force exerted, but quickly focused on the obviously infuriated male storming right towards her.
He came to a stop right before her and begins fumbling with something in his jacket. Marinette briefly wondered if he was going to cause trouble, because if he was, this young man was about to find out what she learned from not just her mother, but also from chain-smoking gangsters and shifus she became acquainted with over the years. However that thought flees her mind when he fishes out his wallet, pulls out a 50-dollar bill and all but slams it onto the counter with his open palm. The sudden act draws out a fearful squeak from Marinette, who flushed slightly in embarrassment a second later. She watched as the male panted heavily, trying - and obviously failing - to calm himself. It is only when he appeared to regain his breath that he began to speak.
"How do I passive-aggressively say 'fuck you' in flower?" He demands between heavy breaths, his sharp glare still etched in his face. Marinette blinked several times, before eventually letting out a startled, "P-Pardon?"
No longer out of breath, he takes in a deep breath and lets it out before loosening his tight expression, and then proceeds to elaborate.
"I need something - anything really - that means 'fuck you', and I need it by today," He announced, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Marinette stared blankly at him for a few moments, before regaining herself. Straightening her posture, she quickly put on her professional front and began addressing her apparent customer.
"Okay. There isn't a flower that means… that, specifically," she began, and he seems to deflate slightly at that, "but I could arrange a bouquet with several flowers that would give an overall feeling of the message you wish to deliver." He visibly brightens up and even flashes her a grateful smile.
"That would be great."
"Alright then. Please, follow me." She begins to lead the way, with him trailing behind her. She began mentally combing her memories, doing her best to recall which flowers mean what as she walked past the myriad of plants.
"Alright, so first, you'll need geraniums; they have a Victorian symbolism of stupidity or foolishness." The male nodded enthusiastically, reaching out to select a few clusters of geraniums, in shades of light and hot pink.
"Next, foxgloves, which means insincerity." The male hummed thoughtfully, before giving a small nod and pulled out a couple of stems of purple foxgloves.
"Then, some meadowsweets, to symbolize uselessness." He smirked approvingly at her words and grabbed several stems of the white flowers.
"Finally, some yellow carnations which means rejection or 'you have disappointed me', and orange lilies which symbolizes hatred," Marinette finished, taking some stalks of said flowers, as well as those already in the guy's hands. She then led him back to the counter and placed the selected flowers on top of the desk. She looked up at him and offered a sweet smile.
"And how would you like this bouquet arranged? Any special requests?" She inquired, and he pondered over it for a moment before shrugging, flashing a sideways smile. "I'll leave that up to your judgement."
"Very well." With that, Marinette turned her back on him and went towards the shelves with several different types of wrapping paper, before selecting one that went best with the flowers. As she proceeded to artistically arrange and wrap the flowers, she looked up to briefly glance at the young man. He appeared evidently calmer and lighter as compared to when he first entered. Seeing he was in a better mood, she felt her curiosity get the better of her, and eventually blurted out the question on her mind.
"So, who's the bouquet for? And why this particular message?" She inquired. The male's brows immediately furrowed as he stared down at the bouquet, and Marinette felt her skin grow cold. Maybe she had asked too soon? Or was she being too intrusive? When he failed to respond for a few moments, Marinette began stuttering to cover up her folly.
"My apologies, I didn't mean to be invasive. It's just, it's a first, receiving a customer who requested such a thing. I mean, I've only read online about people coming up with bouquets of hate, but I've never come across anyone looking for an arrangement with such a… peculiar message, and-"
"No, it's fine. It's just, remembering who this is for just really… pisses me off," he replied, seemingly guilty. He jumped in surprise when Marinette let out a loud, undignified snort.
"Yeah, no kidding. You looked like you were out for blood when you first stepped into my shop." Marinette commented jokingly, eliciting a laugh from him. He then sighed and began explaining.
"Well, it's for my best friend's dad. Today's his birthday, and so as my bro's best dude, it's pretty much expected for me to at least get him something."
"And I assume his father is… not so pleasant?"
"That, miss, is the understatement of the century," he replied dryly, "the guy's a total prick. The worst combination of overbearing and distant parenting, all in one tall, bony package. I've known my buddy since we were in, like, high school, and even before then, his dad was terrible. He micromanages every part of my bro's life, down to the millisecond. Pushing all kinds of expectations on my bro, and then berating him for doing anything outside of his demands, despite all his accomplishments without complaints. What's worse, is that he's never there for my bro whenever he needs him. The old man expects him to top his classes, get first place for competitions, and perform well in family business, but the guy never praises him, is never present for any event, and only knows how to reprimand for every small mistake made."
"... Wow, he must be a total dick." Marinette said bluntly, and the guy nodded sagely at her words.
"Truer words were never spoken, miss. The worst part, my bro loves the guy regardless. Insists that his dad is like that only because his mom, the dude's wife, passed away early, and was grieving, but I call bull. Who grieves like that, and for over 10 years? Besides, that doesn't excuse the man for totally neglecting my bro. My bro was also suffering from losing his mom, but his dad only cared about his own pain and wasn't there for his son. Locked himself away in his home office, working all the time and using that as an excuse to not see his son. And get this, my bro ain't even allowed to step into the home office unless the old man calls for him."
"That's terrible!" Marinette gasped, both palms over her mouth as she momentarily stopped her work.
"Tell me about it. My bro's already an adult, so I tell him, move out and grow as an independent man, but noooo. Insists on staying by his father's side, like the loyal and kind-hearted son he is. My bro just wants to be loved by his dad, but no matter how hard he tries, it only brings on more pain. Seriously, my bro's love is wasted on that damn old man."
"So, why bother with a gift?"
"Because despite knowing how I feel, my bro insists I try to get along with his old man. Not that either of us want to; hated each other the moment we met when I was fourteen. It's a hate-hate relationship; I know it, he knows it, we all know it. The only thing that keeps us cordial at all is my bro. Because apparently the man might have some sort of a bleeding heart in that stone statue figure of his, and knows if he tries to kick me out of my bro's life, his son might actually hate him enough to leave him. Anyways, so today's the old man's birthday, and my dude says get something for him. I can't say no to my bro, but I also have no intentions of playing nice with his dad, so Imma'na get him this giant bouquet of loathing that means 'fuck you' to shove right in his old, wrinkled face."
"Hence, the flowers?" Marinette asked slightly amused, as she smoothly tied a ribbon around the wrapped bouquet.
"Yep. I don't want any of the flowers to wilt or die, so that the full force of my passive listening to my bro and yet still flipping his old man off is glaringly evident."
"Very interesting idea you've come up with. Though I have to ask, is his father proficient with the language of flowers? Otherwise, he's not going to understand any of this and think it's just another pretty bouquet." Marinette questioned, but the guy simply shrugged in response.
"Meh, dunno. Considering the man was married, he must have bought flowers for his late wife or something, so he should be somewhat familiar with it. And if he isn't, I'm sure Nathalie is more than capable of finding out its meaning for him."
"Nathalie?"
"His secretary and my bro's caretaker, or as I like to say, de-facto mum. Except she keeps it professional, so there's a huge lack of love to consider her a mum. But considering the fact that she's much more present in his life, she's still better than the old man. Also, considering I'm going to be the one giving this bouquet directly to him, he's too smart to not realise my true motives."
"Alright then. It'd be disappointing if this went to someone who didn't get it." Marinette jokingly commented, winking as she handed over the beautifully completed bouquet to him. The male accepted the bouquet, and smirked satisfactorily at the elegant arrangement of pinks, purple, yellow and orange. Anyone who understood flower talk, or at least knew flower symbolism like the back of their hand, would instantly know what this meant. The large, brightly coloured bouquet was impossible to ignore, and to those who did understand it, a huge insult.
"That'll be €47.50." Marinette declared, taking the crumpled 50-dollar bill that was left on the side of the counter this whole time, and then was about to give the young man his change but paused when he shook his head.
"Nah, keep it. Consider it a small tip. Nice having a dudette like you listen to me without judging, and for your wonderful service. Seriously, I've been to at least five other flower shops before coming here, and none of them would even treat me like a customer." He exclaimed, flashing a toothy grin. Marinette felt herself naturally return it with a smile of her own as she kept the change.
"Thank you very much, and I'm glad you're pleased."
"Alrighty then. Thanks, miss! I'll be on my way now-"
"Oh, wait!" He paused and turned around to face her, as she rounded the counter to walk towards some of the taller, potted plants, and picked up one with pink blooms. He raised an eyebrow as she lifted the pot towards him.
"A gift for your friend. You can have it for free. It's a baby magnolia tree - magnolias represent perseverance. Something your friend sounds like he needs. Give it to him for me?" She asked, tilting her head to the side with a friendly smile. He returns it with gratitude and renewed appreciation in his eyes.
"Sure thing, dudette. Thanks again!"
"No problem, have a nice day!" Marinette called out after him, watching him as he turned back and left, running down the streets. Marinette settled back down into her chair and leaned into the backrest, staring at the ceiling.
That was the most interesting fifteen minutes she had in the past month, aside from her friend's wedding.
She hoped his friend would be able to live freely one day, and she hoped that terrible father of his understands the bouquet.
[Bonus 1: Adrien and Nino]
"You're kidding."
"Nuh-uh."
"Please tell me you're joking," Adrien said, staring at his best friend in disbelief. Nino just kept snickering as he fiddled with his phone. "You did not give my father a bouquet that is the equivalent of the proverbial middle finger."
"Nope, I'm not kidding. That's what that bouquet actually means."
"Nino!"
"Hey bro, you said get him a gift, you didn't say to get him something nice. Besides, you should be glad it's something subtle like flowers, and not a sign with neon lights that just right out spells 'fuck you'."
Adrien sighed in resignation. Any other person, he'd scoff, but considering that it was Nino, it was actually a possibility. His father scared many people, but not Nino. The stubborn dude stood his ground all these years, and although Adrien can never admit it out loud, he was glad his friend did. And now that said possibility was mentioned, he was glad Nino chose flowers instead. Although…
"How on earth did you even find a bouquet like that?"
"Oh, that. I had to go to, like, five to six different flower shops, all with terrible flowers and worse customer service, but then the last one had this sweet little dudette who knew exactly what I needed and wanted, and listened to my ranting."
"What do you mean 'ranting'?"
"We chose the flowers together, and while she was putting it together, she asked me why I wanted a bouquet that meant 'fuck you'. So I shared about my best bud and a little bit of his life story with her, along with my personal opinions, and she took it all in stride. That reminds me, that potted magnolia tree plant? That's from her."
Adrien ignored his friend's attempt to change the subject and continued drilling him. "You mean you shared about my private life with a complete and utter stranger?"
"Yep." Nino nonchalantly replied, popping the 'p' at the end. "But don't worry, the only name I mentioned was Nathalie's, so there's no way she'd ever know I was talking about the one and only Adrien Agreste."
Adrien let out a long, aggravated sigh, before walking over the potted tree that was now at one corner of his bedroom, right in front of his floor-length windows. He lifted a hand to gently hold one of the pale pink magnolia flowers, admiring its delicate beauty.
Nino put down his phone as his eyes followed Adrien's movements, and smiled to himself. "Pretty sweet of the dudette to gift this to you, and for free too."
"Yeah, it's… rather thoughtful of her, and for someone she's never met," Adrien replied, feeling a small smile touch his lips as he felt a pleasant warmth spread from his chest. He felt an urge to see this mysterious young lady. Surely such a generous woman would be a wonderful friend.
"Where did you buy the flowers from, and do you know who she was?" Adrien asked, still looking down at the magnolia flower.
"The shop is called 'Miraculous Buds'. As for who she is, I believe her name tag said… 'Marinette'."
"Marinette…" Adrien muttered to himself, the unfamiliar name rolling off his tongue. He then looked up and outside of his window, towards the cloudless sky and smiled to himself.
'I'd like to meet her someday.'
[Bonus 2: Gabriel and Nathalie]
Gabriel glared dubiously at the bouquet in his arms. Considering who it was from, he doubted it was just a formality. He recognised some of the flowers, but in colours he never considered looking at before. Surely that had to mean something.
"Nathalie," he called, and the mentioned woman rose from her desk, coming up to stand before him with her ever-present neutral expression. "Yes, sir?"
"Do you know what this bouquet means?" He questioned, thrusting the bouquet in her direction. Nathalie pushed up her spectacles as she studied the various flowers in the bouquet before her.
"I do recognise some of them, but I do not know well enough to say with confidence that I completely understand. If you could give me a few minutes, I shall look up the meaning of these flowers immediately."
"Alright then, do so at once." With that, Nathalie returned to her desk and began typing away. After a few minutes, her fingers came to a stop, hands hovering over the keyboard, her face ashen. How does one tell her boss the cryptic message of 'fuck you', without actually saying said obscenity?
Noticing the silence, Gabriel looked up and noticed the pale complexion of her face.
"What's the matter, Nathalie? Did you find out anything?"
"Well, yes, but… I believe it's best you see it for yourself," Nathalie replied evasively, before forwarding a link to Gabriel's workstation. Opening the sent link, he let his eyes run over the lines before they widened in astonishment. He then smirked in annoyance as he picked up the bouquet, eying the vibrant colours once more.
"'Fuck you', huh? How original."
Hope you enjoyed it! Do leave a review and let me know what you think.
XOXO, anime4life2112