#just wanted to redraw a very specific moment i had with my dad the other day that i keep thinking about

[eigenraptor]

grocery time

[coffeecomicsgalore]

With The World On Her Shoulders

Ao3

@marinettemarch

Chapter 23: Hidden Signature

Marinette sat in the art room frantically working on redrawing some of the designs that was ruined in the “accidental” spill. She knew there was nothing accidental about it; even Adrien had said the same, if the smug look on Lila’s face gave anything away.

After the spill, Adrien had stood up to throw out all the used paper towels in the wastebasket then walked out of the classroom for a moment. Marinette thought nothing of it at first; she thought he had walked out to flag down a teacher or speak to someone he happened to see in the hallway. But when he came back with a smile on his face, Marinette was curious, but didn’t press further. She was too far into her anguish to really ask why, but after half the day came and went, Adrien asked her to come with him for a moment before she went to lunch. Marinette followed, only to be surprised with a brand new sketchbook being held by Adrien’s driver, Gorilla.

“Here,” Adrien said sincerely as he handed her the new book. “I know those designs meant a lot to you, so I asked Nathalie to pick this up. My father has the same kind and he swears by this specific brand alone. He normally likes to use his tablet, there is always something about sketching in a book that makes it feel magical. At least, that’s what my father always says.”

Marinette almost cried as she held the sketchbook in her hands, the velvety smooth cover sending shivers down her spine.

“He’s right, you know.” She stated quietly. She couldn’t help but run her fingers along the smooth edges, taking in the feel of the thick paper that could handle all types of media to really showcase her designs. “There’s nothing more magical than seeing your designs come to life on a sheet of blank paper. You see the way your mind works from the beginning of the sketch to the end, all before the color stages begins. When drawing on a tablet, you go from one layer to another and can hide the messiness, but you can’t really do that with paper. You can sometimes see the smudges from the eraser marks, and when you look back at the design, it can be just enough to remind you of your journey to the completed piece.”

She looked back up at Adrien with so much admiration in her eyes. “Thank you, Adrien. You have no idea how much this means to me.”

“Anything for you, Marinette.”

With that, she spent her entire lunch hour hunched over her partially dried sketchbook, trying her hardest to decipher the illegible notes as she redrew her designs.

She let out a loud groan as she took in a particularly hard note, and she was close to giving up when a soft sound came through the door.

“You know,” the sweet voice began and Marinette immediately perked at the sound. “This very particular article of clothing has an amazing element to it that I never realized was there before.”

Marinette refused to turn around, knowing deep down inside what he was describing.

“See, this designer has a very particular signature that I’ve seen once before. There was this derby hat competition and she managed to sign her name into the design and make it both a pretty feature along with a way to keep frauds from stealing her designs.”

Marinette closed her eyes when she heard him walking towards her, finally sitting down beside her as he held the very design she was worried about in his hands.

“It’s amazing how an ‘accident’ can remind you that things are not always what they seem. Because you see,” he said, stretching out the item in his hands as his fingers rubbed across the seams, “this scarf has that same element along the edge of it. I remembered seeing the raised marks before, but I never understood what it meant. I just never realized that this scarf had a hidden signature in it.”

Marinette swallowed thickly as she slowly turned towards him, her lips pursed into a thin line as she saw the genuine expression as he spoke about the scarf.

“Why didn’t you tell me about this, Marinette? Why did you let me believe it was from my father?”

“Because—” Her voice trembled, not knowing how his reaction was to be taken. “Because you were so happy that your dad had given you something so meaningful that I didn’t want to take it away.”

“You really do sacrifice your own feelings to make others happy, huh?” He mumbled so quietly under his breath that Marinette almost didn’t hear it.

“What?” She whispered.

“I said, you would do truly anything to make people happy.” Adrien stated instead, and she finally acknowledged one of her weakest traits.

“Yeah. Yeah, I do.”

“And that is why you are truly an amazing person. Our everyday Ladybug.” Adrien smiled, placing his hand on hers and squeezing it tightly. “Thank you, Marinette. Thank you for one of my favorite gifts.”

“You’re welcome, Adrien.” She said, squeezing his hand back. “I’m happy you love it.”

[laseroy89]

Desk Flora

I leaned back, taking a break from a long day of editing proposals. The cheap office chair creaked underneath me as I stretched fully, cracked my knuckles, exhaled loudly, rubbed my temples and all those shit one normally does to release stress. Oh man, I needed a pay raise - been overworked is an understatement. My fellow workers and I were overwhelmed by the countless projects that upper management had thrown at us, trying to milk us for all we were worth.

I slowly became aware of a weird sound coming from one of the cubicles to my right. I cocked my head in that direction, trying to figure out what the hell it was. Who the hell was making it? Why the hell was he/she disrupting my peace? As I listened intently, I realised it sounded like someone muttering gibberish, like…oh I know exactly what it was. Reluctantly, I stood up and walked to the desk two cubicles away from mine.

“Hey Gillian.” I leaned on the cubicle wall, trying to act as casual as possible. I pointed at a potted plant that I haven’t seen before on her desk. “Hey, that’s a new one. What’s its name?”

Gillian jumped up at the sound of my voice, and whirled round to stare at me, a guilty look plastered on her face. She had been bending over close to her table, her face buried in the leaves of her little ornamental plants - she called them “desk flora”.

“Her name is Giselle.” Gillian looked really jumpy, and she was avoiding eye contact with me. “Sorry about the noise. Trying to….”

“Nah, it’s alright, I actually feel that your plants are good for releasing your stress - wait what’s that?” I squeezed past Gillian and reached into the leaves of another plant, picking out a mug with the words “World’s #1 Dad” emblazoned on it. It still had some coffee stains inside. “Lance has been looking for this for a week!! What’s it doing here?!” I whispered fiercely to her, trying not to be heard by surrounding coworkers.

“Sorry Bryan. My plants…I…sorry, I just like to…can you please help me return it to Lance? Perhaps just sneak it back on his desk?” Gillian looked up me, her eyes pleading for forgiveness. Well, I couldn’t resist helping out a coworker that I have a soft spot for. I nodded and returned to my desk with the mug, the gibberish starting once again behind me, albeit a tad softer.

I felt sorry for Gillian. When she joined the company, she roused the interest of the entire office when she started decorating her workstation with her desk flora. It was a good conversation topic to have, and she was a pleasant person who welcomed any questions about her plants. Now, with the abrupt increase in workload, all of us naturally felt more stressed, but Gillian…she became more withdrawn. She grew so attached to her plants that she named each one. The cactus was Oliver, the African Violet was Justine, the Snake Plant was Wyatt, and the recently-added Aloe was Giselle.

Being in the same team as her, I wasn’t too worried about that. After all, everyone has their own methods for dealing with stress. But I was surprised when I caught her talking to them about two weeks ago. Now, that was abnormal enough, but she vehemently denied it when I jokingly asked her about it. She repeatedly said that she was calling someone, or just thinking things through, even though I saw her whispering to the plants. It didn’t help that coworkers kept finding their belongings around her area, maybe around her desk, or stuffed into the leaves of the desk flora. Small stuff like staplers, cups, utensils, and once a calculator. Some staff have lost their temper at her, and she could have been fired on grounds of mischief or even theft, if we hadn’t been so pressed for workers.

We had so much work to do, that our entire department was ordered to put in overtime for Monday and Wednesday, in order to finish a really, really huge number of projects. While most of us were quite pissed off and grumbling about “lack of work-life balance”, “I need a pay raise”, I saw the look on Gillian’s face changed from a passive expression to that of…horror?

“Gillian, what’s wrong?” I tried to placate her as we walked back to our workstations after hearing that particular announcement. While I knew she was stressed, I didn’t expect such an adverse reaction.

She turned to look at me, her stricken expression never leaving her face. Her eyes bored into my skull for a good five seconds before she regained her composure and put her hands on my shoulders. “If you can…please leave the office after working hours. Please. I’ll do your work for you.”

“Gillian, don’t be absurd. I have thirteen plans to redraw, and two proposals to edit. And I know you have a similar amount of work. It’s very kind of you but no, that’s simply impossible.”

Gillian’s shoulders sagged. She looked so defeated. I would have comforted her, but I had totally no idea what she was making such a big fuss about. Dammit, it’s just overtime. If anything, we should be getting to work now.

“No matter what happens - whatever you hear, smell, see, sense…don’t acknowledge it.” She leaned in close to me, speaking softly and slowly, stressing every word. I gave her my best “What the fuck” expression.

“I mean it! Just…just pretend you never see anything.” She pleaded with me. I couldn’t disagree, and watched as she went back to her desk. What the hell was that?

As I resumed my work, I couldn’t really focus. I would jump at any sound, and any sudden movement at the corner of my eye would cause me to turn around. Gillian’s warning made me nervous, for some reason. Perhaps it was the way she said it? Or maybe because I was the only one who was warned?

As the time neared 9pm, I slowly began aware of a weird sound coming from one of the cubicles to my right. I cocked my head in that direction, trying to figure out whether it was Gillian’s weird chanting again, before my exhausted mind realised that it was coming from the cubicle to my immediate right. Which was unoccupied.

I didn’t hear anyone enter that cubicle.

It sounded like…leaves rustling.

I looked up and saw a leaf. More specifically, the characteristic long, banded leaf of a Snake Plant. Curling round the top of the cubicle wall, pulling itself up, and….two cold, emotionless and completely black orbs appeared. It took me a while before I realised those were eyes. They stared at me, before a small hole appeared beneath them. A small hole filled with rows upon rows of sharp thorns.

Gillian’s words suddenly rang in my head, stopping me from screaming bloody murder. “Don’t acknowledge it.” I made my face as neutral as possible, and slowly turned to face my computer screen. And continued typing.

I ignored the steely cold gaze raking the side of my head. The rustling started again. I couldn’t focus on my work but I kept my gaze straight ahead. I remained fixed in that uncomfortable position, filled with uncertainty and fear, as the plant - Wyatt, wasn’t it? - lowered himself on the table, crawled slowly over it - over my *hand* - over my keyboard - over my other hand - and paused to stare at me. The same cold stare, unblinking, challenging me to make eye contact again. I didn’t dare to do it, because I didn’t want to find out what would happen to me, and also I didn’t really like looking at that abomination. After about one minute, Wyatt finally moved on to the next cubicle.

I heaved a sigh of relief before I heard other leaves rustling. It seemed to come from everywhere - behind me, to my right. I adjusted my blank second monitor, only to see the reflection of an African Violet - Justine? - crawling on the floor behind me. Oliver the cactus was climbing up where Wyatt appeared earlier. I didn’t know where Giselle the aloe was, and I didn’t want to know.

It was the same - I could feel their eyes on me, watching my every move. I trembled with fear, cold sweat forming on my brow, but remained still. Slowly, they moved on.

I guess this was what Gillian warned me about. It couldn’t be hallucinations from being overworked, as I definitely felt Wyatt crawl over my hand, and Oliver left some small little holes on my cubicle walls (Thankfully I moved my hands away in time).

A scream rang out in the silence of the office. I jumped up, but almost immediately, a hand forced me down. “Nothing is happening.” Gillian hissed, sounding both angry and persuading at the same time. “Go back to work.” I had no choice but to sit back down.

More screams followed, along with more noises. The tearing of paper. The ripping of wallpaper. Cubicle walls being knocked down. Desks and chairs being overturned - no, thrown around. The rushed footsteps hitting the floor fast. Bodies hitting the floor, struggling, punching, kicking. And the most of all, the sound of leaves rustling. It resembled ordinary sheets of paper flapping and rubbing against each other, yet it sounded so ominous, so eerie. I sat down still at my desk, staring at my screen, but had long forgotten which proposal I was working on.

Gradually, all the other noises subsided. The rustling became less vigorous, but more rhythmic. The entire office was now silent, except for the rhythmic pitter-patter of leaves.

It was nearing 10pm, when the office fell deathly quiet. I wanted to stand up and find out what the hell happened - no, I wanted to leave the office and get the fuck home.

“Bryan? Can you do me a favour?” Gillian beckoned to me. “It’s alright. It’s safe now. We’re ending work soon.” She said as she saw my moment of hesitation. I tamely followed her to her cubicle.

My jaw dropped. Plants were scattered all over her desk, covering all the paperwork with a thick layer of leaves, roots and dirt. Vines and roots were similarly strewn on the floor. I distinctly remembered that she didn’t have that many plants today.

“What…what happened?”

“I’m sorry to bother you, Bryan. I know you haven’t seen most of these plants before. They’re new.”

I bent down, picking up one of the vines. They weren’t brown like normal plants, they were….blond. The leaves had red smudges….that looked like lipstick. The flowers didn’t smell natural, they smelt like deodorant and cologne.

“That’s Lance.” She gestured at the vine in my hands. “That’s Gertrude, Margaret, Robbie, Lenny….” Those were…those were our coworkers’ names.

“I’m sorry about what happened, they normally just steal small stuff.” Gillian shrugged helplessly, her voice ringing with regret. “It got a little out of hand. Do you mind helping me load these desk flora to my car?”