agu fic

i’m stuck so i’m setting a timer for 10 minutes and writing everything i can in that time. what you see below is the product

i’m a witch who can’t grow plants for the life of me and you own a flower shop au that i saw the other day and fell in love with


Marinette groans and puts her head down on the book. She immediately jerks back, wiping the dust off her cheek and trying not to sneeze. Note to self: don’t lay down on old spell books. 

She’s pretty sure the universe is against her. Of course this spell would require plants. Plants that she didn’t have and wouldn’t be able to grow. The last thing she tried to grow died in less than two days. It’s honestly getting embarrassing. Tikki jokes that Marinette’s thumbs are too red to be green, but is she wrong? 

Alya had offhandedly mentioned a flower shop the other day. A cute little thing with some rarer plants. Marinette glances down at the book in front of her. What are the chances? 

She decides that if she doesn’t try she can’t do the spell. There are only so many alternative spells before you just have to use plants. 

Half an hour later, Marinette stands in front of the flower shop. Alya was right, it’s cute. It’s small and quaint. It looks like it would have stranger plants. Now does it have what Marinette needs is the real question. 

A bell jingles softly when she pushes the door open. She’s hit with overwhelming smell of flowers. Everywhere she looks there’s green with bursts of color. The walls are lined with flowers and behind a row of roses there’s a small counter. 

Marinette is very careful not to touch anything as she makes her way up to it. She doesn’t kill plants just by touching them but she doesn’t want to take any risks. That’d be unfortunate. 

She hesitates slightly before ringing the little golden bell that’s sitting on the counter top. It pierces through the air and the slight haze that fills the flower shop. Some other…something that Marinette can’t name but it’s definitely there. 

Almost immediately, someone steps out of the back room. “Hi!” he says with a bright smile. “How can I help you?” 

She’s caught off guard by his brilliant green eyes. Then she reminds herself that she has a purpose for being here and it’s not to stare at cute flower shop boys. “Do you have any ague root?”