dippy-draws

2

I don’t know why, so don’t ask.

MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!!! It’s finally Christmas here in the U.S. - for a good half of the country at least - and I’m so excited to share my MLSECRETSANTA gift! This is for @dippy-draws​!

Merry Merry Christmas friend! I lurked your blog for inspiration and found that we have a lot of the same interests, so I’m happy that I got to be your secret santa!

At the time that I wrote this, I was comfy warm, and I aimed for lots of fluff fluffy fluff. I recommend reading this fic with a cup of hot cocoa and an open mind - it was created as a gift, and as such I aimed to create a mood while leaving enough to the imagination that the reader could make the fic their own. I hope you like it!


Snowed In

Generally speaking, the city of Paris was a forgiving one in the winter season. A bit nippy and icy at times sure, but Parisians rarely had to worry about their property sitting 30 centimeters under tightly packed snow, or frequent delays due to snowfall. No, you could count on one hand the number of times it’s snowed that month, and you could count on one hand the height of that snow in centimeters. Winters in Paris were chilly but calm, a frosted beauty in the morning that melted by afternoon. Today, however, the frost did not melt. It didn’t have a chance to before a massive cold front that swept Europe blanketed Paris and seemed to rest there, holding the city tight in its snowy clutches.

Alya watched out the window as the wind-swept snow blurred the horizon into a mosaic of white. She couldn’t think of a time when visibility was this low, when she had to squint to see the outline of the street that sat outside her little studio apartment. The way the snow moved was mesmerizing, and she found herself getting lost in it before a pair of warm, familiar arms wrapped firmly around her shoulders. Instinctively her body leaned into the touch.

“Pretty bad out there.” Nino remarked, causing his significant other to raise an eyebrow.

“Oh yeah?” Alya chuckled, still watching the countless flakes flash by in a never-ending stream. Her reply was quiet and lightly teasing, “I didn’t notice.” They sat in silence a moment longer, his arms around her, her hands now lain over his as they rocked side to side idly watching the snow fly by outside. Nino let out a sort of content grunt and lay his chin on her head, and Alya, though she nestled comfortably into the crook of his neck in reply, sought to tease him in his comfort. “Maybe I should get working on that final paper of mine,” she muttered, “I’ve got just about everything else done, it’d be a shame to leave just this for another day. I’ve only got another month left to finish the last ten pages, after all…”

Nino’s grip tightened just a little, as if he knew she were joking but didn’t want to take the risk anyway. Still, he played along. “If you think you are even touching a laptop today, Madam Césaire, you are sadly mistaken.” Before she could do more than part her lips, he added, “And no reference book reading, either. Or note taking. Or outlining.” His voice turned soft, just a murmur as the atmosphere melted into the quiet air of the winter storm outside, the faint whipping of wind the only accompanying noise to their conversation. “Today we both have a day off, so it’s all about you and me.”

Her voice, too, was quiet, her teasing lilt filled with loving undertones, “But mostly about me, right babe?” A half chuckle, half grunt was her reply as the usually sprite musical producer in training let his energy run low for once. They both fell into the atmosphere once more, quietly drinking in the other’s presence, and nothing else.

Eventually they migrated away from the window, seeking somewhere softer and warmer to cuddle. Seconds passed and Alya settled comfortably on the couch while Nino spread out the blankets that were draped carelessly across the armrest. She brushed her fingers along the smooth suede of the cushions, thinking proudly on how clean they’d kept the couch. After all, it was the first piece of new furniture they had bought together, to go with their first apartment. Nino settled in beside her and tucked the fluffy blanket in around them, being careful to allow Alya extra blanket to keep her side loose and comfortable. By the time he had his arm around her, however, she had pulled the blanket more his way so that is sat on them both equally. At this point in their relationship, her shape molded itself comfortably into his side, though this time around things just felt more… relaxing. More right. Perhaps it was an effect of the storm, of time in Paris temporarily stopping, responsibility melting away in the freezing winds. The neutral tan of the walls and the soft crème of the sofa had never felt so warm, the soft glow of the LED in the floor lamp never so atmospheric. Nino felt the same effects; his tone was still hushed when he spoke, though it grew more excited as his musings went on. “It’s crazy thinking how long we’ve been in this apartment, and how soon you’ll be completing your studies… And how long we’ve just been together, really.” His fingers began making soothing circles over her arm as he spoke, “One day we’ll get a real place to live. A nice little place on Rue Gotlib next to Adrien and Marinette. It’ll have at least two rooms, a living room, a kitchen, two bathrooms so we don’t have to fuss in the mornings…” He mused on, and Alya knew that’s all these were. Musings. Little ideas that weren’t solid or even possible sometimes, but dreams that they had, that they now shared. He seemed as though he could on forever, but Alya cut him short.

“You said two rooms. What do you think the extra room could be used for?” she let the obvious answer hang in the air, always a possibility but never a reality, not for years to come. She hummed, letting the imaginary answer sit, before supplying some other answers, “An office, maybe? I’ll need one, don’t you think? Or a guest room if my sisters want to visit.” Now she was the one dreaming out loud, but Nino enjoyed hearing her talk so brightly of the future. Her analytical mind, always calculating, always finding new ways to navigate through life and through the minds of other people, rarely ever let itself rest. Once again being snowed in had its perks, where the world except their own was no more.

His left hand reached for hers, feeling rather than hearing the matching bands of silver clinking satisfyingly against one another, the jewelry symbols of a promise they made to make their musings like these a reality one day. After Alya was done with school and found a job. After they’d settled enough money for a real place to live, someplace with more than just a living area, one room, a kitchenette, and a bathroom. They were so close to that world, and they were getting closer and closer with every day that passed, but for now they were not even ideas or plans, just dreams.

As their fingers interlaced, quiet fell over them again. It stood in the air for a moment, peaceful, but the spell was temporarily broken into a more stagnant air. The raging storm outside the window behind them seemed more prominent now, the wind whistling through the city with vigor more often. Curious, Nino reached over and grabbed the remote – thank god, it was just within fingertips’ too, just a centimeter further away and it would have been a real tragedy – and turned their box television on to the local weather channel.

“- is advised to stay inside all day today through tomorrow evening. The cold front is at a stand-still and as you can see here –“

He flipped to yet another channel.

“- expected temperature lows are negative fifteen degrees Celsius, a new record for today and tomorrow and very close to the all time low temperature this month of – “

“- Global warming is tearing the world’s climates – “

“- anywhere from twenty to thirty centimeters of snow, maybe more in the Paris area alone!”

Alya snuggled closer as if the cold winds could suddenly pierce through the walls. “Woah.” She whispered. She honestly didn’t know the storm would be this bad – and neither had Nino. Most of Paris could say the same.  “I guess it’s a good thing we didn’t try to meet up with Adrien and Marinette like we planned.” She said, and Nino nodded in agreement, “Still, I do feel like we don’t see them nearly as much as we should.”

Nino raised a brow and pulled back to give her a look, “You just went out with Marinette on Saturday for ‘pre-storm shopping preparedness’, even though you thought the whole storm thing was, quote, ‘sensationalism and price gauging at its finest’ and anyway, you only came back with a new flash-drive and a half-eaten croissant – the one Marinette told you to give to me, might I add.”

“Okay, well, that was just me and Marinette,” she retorted, dodging the croissant situation, “This time Marinette and Adrien wanted to get together with both of us. She seemed really excited about it, too.” The last part was a bit pouty, although they both knew there was nothing to be done about it.

Nino calmly combed his hair through her hair, fingers lingering over her highlights, “I’m sure Marinette understands that we can’t exactly run over to hang out with them right now. Adrien too. They’re probably having their own fun at home watching the masses freak out over…” he squinted at the screen, as if in disbelief, “‘Snowpocalypse’? Nevermind. Adrien is probably coming up with some really bad puns to counter that bad pun.”

Alya chuckled, “Yeah, you’re right. They cuddle like it’s their job. We’ll probably end up calling each other later anyway.” Her mind began to wander, thinking of her friend briefly, before the feeling of Nino’s hands squeezing hers brought her out of those thoughts and into new ones. The muscles in her body instantly relaxed, and she fell against him as the weatherman’s cries for attention became a whisper in the background, and the spell settled over them once again.


Meanwhile, elsewhere…


Marinette wandered about her living room, picking up this book and fixing that frame, occupying herself as her thoughts began to pick up speed again. She could smell the results of Adrien’s cooking practice wafting in from the kitchen, and as the tantalizing aroma edged at her anxieties she praised once again whoever it was that put her and Adrien in the same world together. The dinner was impromptu, but it had to be – they had planned that night so carefully, with so much anticipation, that of course the snow had to come and put a halt to the whole thing.

Marinette stared out the window, hand flush against her cheek as she pondered the snow once more. In the background, someone on T.V. told her that it was currently ten degrees below zero, and that the storm had only just begun. From what she could see, the ground already had at least 3 or 4 centimeters of snow piled on top of it, so she wondered just how far the storm would go.

Before she thought more on it, she heard the kitchen door open, and turned, smiling, to see Adrien walking over. “Chaton,” she gushed, arms wide open for a hug. He immediately obliged, wrapping her in a gentle embrace. Instantly all thoughts of the cold outside were gone, and she felt warm from head to toe.

Already a little hot from the kitchen himself, Adrien felt a new warmth as he held her. Sure, they lived together, and they were within shouting distance of one another more often than not these days, but his feelings went deeper than just being content to be near her. These moments where he could get her away from her work, where it was just them, were the moments he cherished.

His arms around her waist, her arms around his neck, they sat in the embrace for a moment. His hand came up to play with her hair, and she sighed. “I really wish we could have gone out with them tonight. I’m just so… anxious, you know?”

His smile turned gentle, understanding, and he pressed his forehead against hers, their noses brushing lightly, “I know, Mari, I know. There’s no use in worrying about it though, just relax. Dinner’s just about ready, that should help you calm down a little.”

“You’re right. The food will help…” She sighed once more, this time more content, and followed his hand as it snaked up her shirt and rested on her belly, “We can tell them later.”

the first thing you see when you arrive at hell

Bippy fresh has been following Dipper all day, comparing Dippers “weak” body to Dippy’s (since Bill’s possessed them both now). He’s been going on about how Dippy’s body is cooler and stronger, but little does he know Dipper isn’t the same kid from Sock Opera. 

(Give him the left hook Dipdop!)