Fake It ('Til you make it)

Wedding Dress (Marinette)

Keeping calm was easier said than done when Marinette was panicking. Panicking like trying to juggle flaming marshmallows while riding a unicycle on a tightrope with a spider crawling up her leg—utter chaos!

It was 2:30pm by the time her brain had realised what was happening, 3pm by the time her hair was done and her makeup, and now she was panicking.

"Marinette, sweetheart, you need to put the dress on," her mother said.

"But - but what if it doesn't fit? Adrien will be standing there waiting for me, all alone, and then he'll call off the wedding, dump me, find a beautiful woman and go off to live on some desert island with a hamster, have loads of gorgeous children and live off nothing but fruit and love!"

"Is she always this dramatic?" said Anthony, who'd arrived decked out in a smart suit, alongside Alya, a mere 10 minutes ago.

Marinette's head shot to the door, her eyes glaring at them both. So much for best friends. "You two are not helping!" she hissed, turning around and dropping into a chair with a hefty kerplunk.

"She's procrastinating," Alya not so quietly whispered to Anthony.

"I can hear you, you know," Marinette scolded, her attention fully drawn back to the wedding dress sitting lonely in the corner.

She looked up at the intricate lace patterns cascading down the bodice. The dress shimmered in the soft glow of the design room, a vision of elegance and romance. Yet, a knot of anxiety sat in her stomach, tightening with each passing moment.

As she gazed at her reflection in the mirror, she couldn't shake the overwhelming fear that gripped her heart. Adrien, the love of her life, the man she had dreamed of marrying since they were teenagers, was just a few moments away from becoming her husband. The thought should have filled her with boundless joy, yet a nagging voice whispered doubts in her mind.

What if he'd changed his mind? What if this dress, this symbol of commitment and devotion, was nothing but a cruel illusion? Her chest tightened at the thought. She loved Adrien with a depth that often took her breath away, but love, as she had learned, did not guarantee 'happily ever afters'. His mother and father were the stars of a dark fairytale which she couldn't just ignore.

A tear welled up in her eye as she imagined the possibility of heartbreak. She blinked it away, refusing to let her fears consume her. Adrien was kind, loving, and fiercely devoted to her. Surely, these doubts were nothing more than the remnants of past heartaches, the scars of old wounds not yet fully healed. The fear of a young girl who could only say she loved him if she was looking at a picture of a cow.

"Maman, can I have a minute with my friends please?"

Her maman moved towards her and kissed her on the cheek. "I'll be in the kitchen if you need me."

Marinette smiled up at her maman. "You just want to try out the coffee machine, don't you?"

A soft chuckle filled the room with love. "Of course, dear. And your papa will be here soon."

She watched as her mother left the room, leaving her alone with two of her friends...and her old buddy, anxiety.

"Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh," she murmured, her thoughts swirling like a storm.

Turning to her friends, Marinette's eyes pleaded for reassurance. Alya noticed the worry etched on her face. "What's on your mind, girl?" Alya asked gently.

Marinette hesitated, her voice trembling slightly. "I...I've never kissed another guy," she confessed, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "And Adrien and I...we haven't...you know..."