#lov da comf

This scene was hella soft and I just had TO

another chapter of lov da comp ( ch 4 ) from @booabug !! i cry everytime

guess what time it is? thats right ‘talking about writing instead of writing’ time again my dudes

also angst is always being an intrusive thot @ me and i don’t wanna deal with mari’s superhero 101 endangerment worries & chat noir’s ‘oh no we fell in love w me in my secret identity and now i can’t be everything you deserve’ sorrows eating away at him as adrien

that’s why lov da comf toes the line between platonic and romantic, and I try to keep it so it can be read either way, but what I have in mind when I write it is they’re in dokis w each other but VIOLENTLY REPRESSING IT bc of above reasons. i mean. i have them being affectionate in every way that’s not obviously, overtly romantic anyway.

look it’s chat

(^・ω・^)

oh! he woke up!

(✿ ･︵･) (^´•̥̥̥ ω •̥̥̥`  ^)

oh no... he’s a sad kitty...

(✿  ˘ ³˘)(^☉ω ☉๑ ^) !

a kiss to make it better?!

(✿  •́ ▿•̀) (^ฅω ฅ๑ ;^) ~♥ 

he got embarrassed...

(AO3)

“Hey, you wanna know something weird?” Marinette nudges Chat’s shoulder with her foot from where she is on her fainting couch.

Chat’s questioning grunt comes from he’s siting against the side.

Neither look up from their game.

“Out of all my friends, you easily drive me the craziest—will you make your swing?” (case in point)

“The wind’s tricky!” She kicks nudges him harder. He whines. “Oww. Animal abuse much? Also, that’s really not that weird.”

(she hardly even kicked him, he’s so dramatic)

“I wasn’t finished—finally,” they both fall silent watching his shot land. “… snrk.”

“The wind.”

“You suck at this game.” (the wind!) “Anyway, at the same time, you’re easily one of the people I enjoy being around the most.”

Chat doesn’t say anything.

She looks down to find he’s tipped his head back to lay on the edge of the fainting couch. His eyes have to go back all the way to look up at her (it looks so funny) while he frowns lightly. “You really mean that?”

“You don’t have to sound so surprised,” Marinette says with a quirk of the lips and a brow raised as she brushes some hair from his eyes.

“Well… It means a lot to me. You’re one of my favourite people to be with too, you know.”

“And that means a lot to me too,” she smiles and scratches his chin. He tips his head back even further (he is so funny), erupting into purrs. “… Does it mean enough to you to do a midnight fried chicken run?”

“I don’t want to go anywhere now. Congratulations, you played yourself.”

“Damn it,” Marinette sighs, pulling her hand back to make another swing.

He tugs her hand back (really?) “Chat, the game.”

“It sucks anyway,” he grumbles, refusing to let go. (this boy)

“You just suck at it.”

“It sucks.”

“You suck,” she puts down her game to hold both sides of his jaw and jostle his head gently, “You drive me crazy. You don’t even get me fried chicken anymore.”

He chuckles, eyes closed. “Ah, you know you love me.”