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[creidim]

the arms of the ocean are carrying me
the arms of the ocean delivered me

[ text | voice | omen | action ]

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a... gift.... (cw: drugs / weed)

[possessum]

( It's... it's not even Christmas yet. It's a whole week before it, in fact. On this night, Peter Graham has gotten very high and he is very Sensitive, and he is thinking about how much he loves his girlfriend. And so, High!Peter comes up with what, in that moment, seems like the world's best idea to show her his affection...

He's absolutely not much of a cook, or a baker, or anything that requires.... creating food. But Luna has plenty of baking things he can use, and he pretty easily finds a reference picture and instructions for a cute thing online. There's one that doesn't seem all too complicated, you just make a bunch of mini cupcakes, pipe them with frosting, and then put them together to make Santa.

He can totally do that.

And so he's there in the kitchen in the middle of the night, long after the rest of the household are tucked into bed, eyes glazy and red and with the pungent smell of marijuana following him around. ...He's also extremely weepy, sniffling wetly and running the back of his hand across his eyes.

When he finishes arranging the cupcakes on a plate, he sets it out on the counter for Luna to find the next morning. Unfortunately, it's.............. )


( High!Peter, however, thinks that it looks extremely good. Still sniffling, he writes a note on the corner of a sheet of paper and tears it off to set down beside the.... display. There's evidence, perhaps, of the state he's in — how he doesn't write correctly in the margin (well, Peter probably already doesn't do that.....) and how it's... torn off in the middle of his own name... Ah yes, love from "Pe." )

luna lovegood is a lucky girl

[creidim]

[ Waking up alone isn't totally unusual, but it does give her pause when morning comes. She soon figures Peter probably didn't want to disturb her, or maybe just simply passed out in his own room following his latest night of smoking The Weed. And she soon finds out the answer as she sleepily shuffles downstairs in search of tea, passing the living room to find him sprawled lazily over the sofa, fast asleep.

Nothing else seems out of the ordinary until she moves to the kitchen, wiping at her eyes and yawning: something smells good, something sweet over the distinctive smell Peter's smoking usually has clinging around him long after.

... There is cake on the bench.

Not just a cake, but several cupcakes organised into some kind of strange but wonderfully cheerful face. Luna picks up the note left, reading it with a sleepy smile. Ah, it is Santa Claus. It makes sense now. It's a very interesting interpretation of him. And Luna is................. absolutely delighted. No, really. She is feeling very mushy inside right in that moment: Peter made Santa Claus cupcakes for her! It is a very wonderful and thoughtful gift, and she loves it.

She'll be carefully picking up two from the bottom of the beard and returning to the living room with them. Leaving them on the coffee table, Luna crouches down on the floor beside the sofa and will be gently waking him up with little kisses and murmurs of his name to say thank you.

It's a nice day to have cake for breakfast. ]