Fake It ('Til you make it)

What If? (Marinette)

Marinette pushed open the heavy brass door to 'Brass Works', revealing a world straight out of her wildest dreams. The steampunk bar, tucked away in a cobblestone alley, greeted her with a mesmerising display of Victorian-era marvels infused with futuristic flair.

The air hummed with the rhythmic clinking of gears and the soft hiss of steam, creating an ambiance that was both enchanting and mysterious. Copper pipes snaked along the walls, intertwined with exposed clockwork mechanisms that seemed to breathe life into the space. Edison bulbs hung from the ceiling, casting a warm, amber glow over the polished wood and leather furnishings.

Marinette's eyes widened as she took in the eclectic décor—a blend of industrial revolution aesthetics and imaginative inventions. The bar itself was a masterpiece of polished brass and stained wood, adorned with vintage glassware and rows of peculiar bottles filled with shimmering liquids of all colours.

Patrons, dressed in elaborate steampunk attire, mingled around, their costumes adorned with gears, goggles, and lace. Some sat in plush armchairs upholstered in rich velvet, while others conversed near displays of antique gadgets and brass sculptures that adorned the shelves.

Marinette found herself drawn deeper into the enchanting atmosphere, the clinking of glasses and the murmur of conversation weaving a tapestry of excitement around her. As she approached the bar, she couldn't suppress a smile—this was the perfect setting for inspiration, adventure, and perhaps even a touch of romance.

She had meticulously chosen her outfit for the steampunk-themed evening, wearing a vintage-inspired ensemble that reflected the charm and eccentricity of the era.

Her outfit consisted of a fitted, high-collared blouse with lace detailing, tucked into a tailored vest adorned with brass buttons. Over this, she wore a knee-length skirt made of rich velvet fabric, its deep burgundy hue complementing her dark hair. A wide belt cinched her waist, featuring a brass buckle that matched the other accents in her attire.

Her accessories added a touch of steampunk flair. She wore a pair of lace-up boots with intricate brocade patterns, their heels just high enough to give her a confident stride. A pocket watch dangled from a chain at her hip, a functional yet stylish addition to her ensemble.

To complete her look, her hair had been styled into soft waves, framing her face elegantly. A small top hat sat jauntily on her head, adorned with a cluster of feathers (fake, of course) and gears, adding a whimsical touch to her outfit.

She'd been working on it for weeks, ever since she'd learned they'd bagged the reservation. 'Brass Works' was one of the most sought-after bars in the centre of Paris, with months upon months of waiting lists. Even Adrien throwing his name in didn't help get the reservation sooner. But now they were here - all of them. They were ready once again for a fun-filled night, one which had been on the calendar for around 8 months.

Marinette glanced around the vibrant steampunk bar, taking in the whirlwind of gears, steam, and laughter that surrounded her. Her friends—Alya, Nino, Juleka, and Rose—were engrossed in conversation and exploration, their enthusiasm infectious. Luka and Zoé were sitting off to the side. And as she stood solo, she couldn't help but feel a pang of longing for Adrien's company.

"Hey, Marinette, you okay?" Alya's voice interrupted her thoughts. Her face was etched with concern.

Marinette smiled reassuringly. "Yeah, I'm good! Just enjoying the ambiance."

Alya nodded knowingly, her eyes filled with understanding. "He'll be here soon."

They walked over to the table, Marinette shuffling in to give Juleka and Rose a hug before giving Luka and Zoé a quick glance. He stood behind her, face buried in her hair as they laughed at an inside joke, lost in their own little bubble. She wasn't jealous...but at the same time, she was. She didn't want Luka, or Zoé, but she did want Adrien there with her, giving her the love and affection she'd been dying for, for the whole week.