#no geography album

[crimson--freak]

Had my last exam today :))

[dkbtho]

June receiptify tagged by @we-survive-endlessly !! <3

Umm King Kong my BELOVED!! Also Tasty is just.. so damn catchy??

Anyway tagging @ambivartence @lee-minhoe @chowonsang @sungtaro if you want!!! No pressure 🥰

[if-you-fan-a-fire]

John Linton Palmer, Sketches of moai on Rapa Nui (Easter Island), Nov 1868, watercolour, Easter Island Album, F030/6 © RGS-IBG.

Above: ‘Inside the crater at Otu-iti’ (pencil annotation: ‘Published in Illustrated News’).

Below: ‘One of the images outside the Crater at Otuiti. These were generally in much better preservation than those elsewhere, the angles of the stone still sharp’.

"Linton Palmer’s later sketches indicate an enduring interest in forms of material culture, architecture and archaeology. In 1863, for example, he took leave from HMS Melville to travel for three weeks up-river from Canton with a fellow-doctor William Kane, Scots businessman James Banks Taylor, a missionary Orientalist (and the future Oxford Professor of Chinese) James Legge and his Chinese secretary Tsang Kwei-Hwan. Linton Palmer sketched Buddhist temples and pagodas along the way, although they were not included in a subsequently published account of the trip. Drawing was also to play a significant role in his later studies of the ethnology and geography of Rapa Nui, arising from HMS Topaze’s visit there in November 1868. Although he appears to have included drawings with a letter sent to England the following month, Linton Palmer’s account was published by the Ethnological Society without the drawings, as was another paper presented to the Royal Geographical Society. Nor did his sketches of the skulls (which were sent to Thomas Huxley) appear in print. At least one of his drawings from the Topaze was published in engraved form in the Illustrated London News before his return to London (20 March 1869), and other sketches may have reached wider public audiences in the same way.

...

Today Linton Palmer’s most well-known sketches are those he made on the island of Rapa Nui (Easter island) in 1868, during which one of the moai, Hoa Hakananai’a, was excavated from its underground resting place. The evidential quality of Linton Palmer’s writings on Rapa Nui have been questioned by later archaeologists, especially his supposed tendency to rely on what is regarded as hearsay rather than first-hand observation. However, his sketches of the sites of the moai and the marks upon them constitute a significant and in some respects a unique documentary record which still has value in archaeological study.

...

In view of the continuing debate amongst Rapa Nui specialists over the quality of Linton Palmer’s evidence, it is worth making two further points. The first concerns the place of accurate observation within his routine practice as a naval surgeon: it was his responsibility to observe the bodies of the crew, the condition of the ship and of the weather, and in this context precise documentation in multiple forms was essential. In a naval setting, moreover, the notion of isolated observation independent of ‘hearsay’ does not really make sense: here an observation which was not shared could not be tested or relied upon. The second point concerns Linton Palmer’s prior experience of archaeological survey which has hitherto been unknown. In fact, ten years before the Topaze voyage, Linton Palmer himself had undertaken the first field survey of the stone circle at Calanais (Callanish) in the Hebrides, just prior to its excavation..." - from Felix Driver, “Material memories of travel: the albums of a Victorian naval surgeon.” Journal of Historical Geography 69 (2020): 48.

[haveyoulistenedtothisalbum-poll]

Tracklist:

ブート (Boot) • リサフランク420 / 現代のコンピュー (Lisa Frank 420 / Modern Computing) • 花の専門店 (Floral Shoppe) • ライブラリ (Library) • 地理 (Geography) • ECCOと悪寒ダイビング (Chill Divin' with ECCO) • 数学 (Mathematics) • 待機 (Standby) • て (Te)

Bandcamp ��� YouTube

[folkfashion]

Salut!

What got you into making a blog about traditional clothing ?

Salut ! Sorry I got this ask quite long ago and forgot to answer it even thought I quite like it ! So, I guess it came from an interest in both Geography and to a lesser extent fashion that got me very interested. I started researching and I became a little obsessed. I've always seen traditional clothing, in my family album or around me in general (I had like many people a huge Japan phase when I was younger, learnt about kimono...)

(Pics of my grandma and her cousin in their traditional clothing, can anyone guess where we're from from this ? It's pretty hard I know ahah.) For making this blog specifically I wanted to make a little encyclopedia of traditional clothing everywhere. I found a lot of great option (Atlas of Humanity being my favorite) but everytime there were either no links, or it wasn't active anymore, or it was only about a specific region/people, or it was only archive pics, or it was photographers own work which was fantastic but obviously you can't ask them to travel every single existing country to photograph every groups. I myself often struggle to find a specific people.). So I ended just making the blog I wanted to see ! :) (I'm answering all the other ask tomorrow ! I'm sorry I take sooo much time every time but I generally just queue this blog in advance for weeks since I'm very busy, and i'm starting to get a lot of asks. Promise tomorrow I answer all I have !)

[cityofmeliora]

Let's talk about geography. Meloria is mentioned in Peter Bebergal's promo as the name of the fictional city. The place where Summonings are taking place is called Lincopia, Otrogothia (derivative of Linköping, Östergötland). The place where Necropolitus Cracoviensis and Papa were creating the concept of Meliora is called Cracovia.

Is it enough to add '-ia' to the name of the place to make it become meliorian? Did Papa come to us from a reality where the name of all cities and countries end with -ia?

they're just changing all the place names to Latin form for the catholicism parody bit lol.

"-ia" is a Greek / Latin suffix that is used to form abstract nouns and place names. a place named "[BLANK]-ia" is the "land of [BLANK]", essentially.

Lincopia, Otrogothia is the Latin form of Linköping, Östergötland.

Cracovia is the Latin form of Kraków. so "Bishop Necropolitus Cracoviensis" means something like "Bishop of the Necropolis of Kraków."

however, the name of Terzo's beautiful city is NOT "Meloria". that was just a typo, and the Prologue is the only time it's ever been misspelled like that. the name of the city is Meliora, same as the album. (hence my blog url)

NAMELESS GHOUL: I guess Spirit was thought of pretty early on as a potential album opener – the gateway to the city of Meliora. Metal Hammer (September 2015)

NAMELESS GHOUL: Meliora is the metropolitan landscape in which this album takes place; a backdrop that looks like a big city with a lot of hopeful people constantly living in fear of not succeeding. Metal Hammer (July 2015)

PHOTO: Square Hammer

Terzo did a bit where he asks the audience to say "MELIORA", and he seems to get really annoyed when people say it wrong.

PAPA EMERITUS III: We have a new gramophonic album out– a phonograph, I think, is the word. It's entitled Meliora, not 'Me-loi-ra.' 'Me-li-o-ra.' Can you say Meliora? Denver, Colorado (October 17, 2015)

[waveofahand]

Beautiful boy with a beautiful lap

It's very hard for me not to fill this post with a million pics of that magnificent lap, but I will restrain myself.

PS: I read somewhere that when the Beatles were trying to name "Revolver," JPM joked that they should name it "After Geography" after this album.

Oh... just a couple... too irresistible, that lap.

[roaringroa]

MY BROTHER JUST TEXTED ME SAYING HE’S GONNA PROPOSE TO HIS GIRLFRIEND TONIGHT???

i just love my brothers so much

[jo-harrington]

Corroded Coffin Fest - Day 25 - Gareth

Summary: Gareth takes a stand.

Word Count: 996

Rating: T

Warnings/Themes: Origins, Teen angst, Growing Up, FOI references (Ronnie) but also some non-compliance to FOI (just...gonna skip the painful bits)

Check Out the Main Post for @corrodedcoffinfest here! Even if you didn’t start on Day 1, you can still join!

Tagging: @the-unforgivenn at her request.

You can find my masterlist here.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

No one ever doubted how much the Emersons loved their son.

Especially not Gareth himself.

Their house was practically a shrine to him.

Shit, his parents' lives were dedicated to him.

They were well-off enough that his mom stayed home to take care of him until he started school, and then only worked part-time so she wouldn't get bored.

Meanwhile his dad made sure that he was at every activity and chaperoned every field trip.

There were pictures of him on almost every available wall of the house. Ones from tee ball and cub scouts and kindergarten graduation and the first time his dad took him fishing.

They all showed a happy kid.

Of course, there were also ones where he wasn't happy. Those got tucked into albums.

Ones of him crying or throwing a tantrum.

But there was one particular picture of him at 13, looking incredibly pouty. He had a study date with his crush, Libby Nelson, and his dad had brought a camera to proudly snap a picture of them together.

He was embarrassed enough when his mom ran a comb through his hair a hundred times, and when his dad ironed his shirt for him, and when they asked if he wanted to get flowers.

"We're just working on geography homework," he whined.

But after the picture fiasco, after Libby had laughed at him and he had blamed his parents, he decided enough was enough.

He started picking his own outfits to school to wear to school. The other kids picked on him, but he never felt more at ease in his skin.

Then he started listening to the metal station on the radio, despite his mom's complaining that it was all noise. Those lyrics meant something to him.

Eventually he figured he didn't want to do piano lessons anymore, something his mom had enrolled him in.

"But you play so beautifully," she protested. "You've got a gift for music."

"Yeah well," he sniffed, "maybe I want to play the drums now."

He never thought they'd actually get him a drum set.

His parents thought it was just a phase. Rebellious teen years and all; they'd had their own experience with it. But their parents had been too hard on them. They decided to be different with Gareth. Supportive.

They got him the drums, let him set it up in the garage, put up with the endless hours of migraine-inducing drumming, and apologized to every neighbor that complained.

They played it by ear and watched as their son continued to become someone unfamiliar....until eventually that angry noise in the garage turned more controlled.

He'd play along to the radio, mimicking it.

Sang along with his favorite bands until his voice cracked and he cried.

"He's gotta find himself," Mr. Emerson told his wife, who wanted to step out into the garage to console Gareth. "It'll be ok."

It got better when he moved on to Hawkins High.

He made friends with a sophomore named Jeff. They had similar taste in music and jokes, and if it wasn't their class schedules, they'd be inseparable.

Through Jeff, Gareth met and developed maybe...definitely not...sort of a crush on a senior named Veronica Emerson Ecker. Ronnie.

She'd been nice enough, always remembered his name after Jeff introduced them, and apparently played the drums too.

Gareth was head over heels.

"We practice over at this guy Dougie's house," Jeff explained. "If you wanna come watch us practice sometime?"

"I don't think my mom would like that," Gareth dismissed disappointedly. "She doesn't like me listening to metal. I don't think she'd let me go see a band play."

Jeff hummed and then offered another option.

"Hellfire Club?" Mrs. Emerson screeched when she picked Gareth up and saw him wearing the handmade shirt with a demonic face front and center. "I thought you were joining Chess club!"

"I might have lied to you," he muttered.

The first meeting he'd attended had been a disaster--everyone at school knew who Eddie Munson was, but meeting him had been a different story--and he damn near quit.

But he didn't.

It had been fun enough and Eddie hadn't been so bad. He encouraged Gareth to give it another shot which Gareth was grateful for.

He was determined to go back next week.

If his parents let him.

He got a lecture the whole drive home, and then again once his dad got home from work.

"It's like we don't even know you anymore Gareth!" his mother sobbed at the very end.

"Maybe you don't!" He shouted. "I'm not your little guy anymore! I'm 15! I'm all grown up now."

His parents laughed but he kept going.

"I don't fit in with the other kids and I don't want to. I like metal and playing the drums and I like Dungeons and Dragons. The kids in Hellfire are really cool. Dougie...well he's kind of a jerk but he gave me a copy of The Hobbit. It's the best. A-and my friend Jeff is there and he plays in a band too.

"I think maybe that would be cool," he finished sheepishly. "Playing in a band someday."

His shoulders heaved and he watched his parents with desperate eyes, hoping they'd understand.

They had to.

His mom leaned over and whispered in his dad's ear, who simply nodded.

"Growing up is tough," Mr. Emerson said softly. "We're always gonna worry about you; we just want you to be happy, pal. So if you want to be a part of this club, we're not gonna stop you."

All three of them let out a breath of relief, and then his parents were on their feet to embrace him. His dad clapped a hand on his shoulder and his mom suffocated him with a hug.

He was about to go to the garage to play, when his mom held him at arms length and asked, "are you really sure about this Hellfire Club thing?"

"Mom!"

"Ok! Just checking!"

[if-you-fan-a-fire]

John Linton Palmer, Views near Fort Victoria, June–July 1851, pen and ink, From Chile to the Arctic Album, F030/4 © RGS-IBG.

First plate, top: Esquimalt harbour, with Constance Cove, and Mt Angeles in the distance.

First plate, below: ‘Entrance to Victoria Fort’.

Second plate, above: ‘Fort Victoria, Vancouver I.’.

Second plate, below: ‘From landing place at Victoria Fort’ [original caption].

Third plate: Sketches of people and artefacts, Vancouver Island, June–July 1851. Fourth plate: Tomb of King Freezy’s brother at the entrance of Victoria Inlet, B. Columbia, 1851′.

"In considering such archival images as traces of encounter, contemporary historians would of course seek to adduce more evidence about the meanings of such events for the participants, in this case both British and Hawaiian, situating these events in their time and place. From this perspective, the rituals of diplomacy, the expectations of the various parties, the knowing and unknowing ways in which these events were described, would all need to be investigated. The same is true of the many other examples of the art of encounter in Linton Palmer’s albums. From an art historical perspective, such imagery would also need to be carefully contextualized with reference to matters of style, genre and perspective. In many cases, as I have argued, the influence of the naval tradition of maritime view-making is clear. However, there is another way of seeing these visual archives, especially when encountered from a heritage perspective, in which the informational content – the documentary detail – may matter even more than the point of view.

In order to substantiate this final point, we should return to Linton Palmer’s Fort Victoria sketches. Fleeting views they may have been, but in their attention to detail – whether the rendering of the hair and adornments of the people he encountered, or the material evidence of Indigenous presence in the landscape – such pencil sketches by naval visitors sometimes record what other contemporary documents do not, and in ways that can be located precisely in space and time. The matt lodges around the Fort, the cedar plank houses across the harbour, a fishing station in the distance: all these features signal an active Indigenous presence at a particular moment preceding a disastrous era in the history of the Indigenous people of what became British Columbia. Since they were first made available to First Nations historians following their exhibition in a 2009 RGS-IBG exhibition (Hidden Histories of Exploration), Linton Palmer’s images have entered the visual archive of Indigenous history and made more widely available in digital form. In particular, they have been incorporated into understandings of local settlement history by Grant Keddie, a curator at the Royal British Columbia Museum in Victoria. As Keddie’s work indicates, there is an ‘archaeological’ way of reading such documents, cross-referencing with other sources of evidence about the precise geography and chronology of landscape change. As is clear from the contemporary significance of the Indigenous sites sketched by Linton Palmer, such work is far from merely of academic interest. In 2001, 150 years after the brief visit of HMS Portland to Fort Victoria, a claim was filed in Canadian courts asserting that the land on which the Parliament of British Columbia was built (near the original Fort) had originally been occupied by or promised to First Nations peoples. After a long and contested legal process, the Ministry of Aboriginal Affairs and Reconciliation eventually reached an out of court settlement with the representatives of the Esquimalt and Songhees nations, which has been valued at $31.5 million dollars. In this context, mapping the precise geography of Indigenous settlement in space and time mattered a great deal: in fact it truly was the multi-million dollar question. And in the process, as researchers and consultants pored over long forgotten maps and drawings not unlike Linton Palmer’s sketches, the visual archive of travel acquired a new value." - Felix Driver, "Material memories of travel: the albums of a Victorian naval surgeon." Journal of Historical Geography 69 (2020): 53-54

[captainjonnitkessler]

I need to talk to Tuomas one-on-one. Just for like thirty minutes. I need to talk to him about Weak Fantasy. I want to know if his disdain for religion's insistence that it hold all the answers grew as he learned more about the natural wonders of this universe, and if he felt vindicated about accusing organized religion of brainwashing when people found out the new album quoted Darwin and threw a fit about "evilutionists". I need to know if he has the same problem with tiny fossils that I do, which is that if I think for more than two seconds about how that used to be just a little guy swimming in the Devonian Sea 400 million years ago and now we are both existing here together in this brief moment in the sun I go absolutely fucking insane. Also I want to tell him about Eternal Flame Falls and the unique glacial geography of Western New York. I just think he'd think it's neat.

[olympeline]

FrUK FACE family Parent Trap AU, part 7! Part 1

So, Alfred and Matthew made a successful switcheroo and are now living with their other respective dads. The first few days for both of them just pass in a whirlwind of new experiences: new sights, new sounds, new smells, new surroundings. Alfred and Mattie struggle to take it all in, but in a good way. And, of course, at the centre of it all is Francis and Arthur. It’s tricky being around them because the twins want to get to know them so badly but they can’t act like it because that would be weird. Alfred in particular has to dash out of the house to go run around with Mr. Kumajiro a couple of times because the need was getting too much. Francis notices “Mattie” has become more energetic, but accepts Alfred’s excuse that he got really into sports at camp. It’s not such a stretch since Matthew has always been outdoorsy anyway and Francis puts it down to his little boy growing up. Wine, misty eyes, and a long purusing of their family photo album once Alfred has gone to bed that night. Francis may be a suburban dad now with a mortgage and PTA meetings, but he sees no point in life if one can’t be dramatic every once in a while ;)

Then, Summer is over, and the twins have to go back to school. Alfred to Matthew’s fancy private school, and Matthew to Alfred’s normal NYC public school. Alfred puts on his uniform (urgh, monkey suit! Didn’t his dad used to wear something like this?) and is surprised when Francis drives him to school rather than let him walk or get the bus. The school is pretty close, but Francis does it anyway. He’s chill about things like Alfred’s earring, but then pivots and is overprotective about stuff like Matthew getting to school alone. Weird. Meanwhile, Mattie braces himself for the journey on the subway. Arthur is generally stricter than Francis, but he trusts “Alfred” to make his own way to school right through the heart of New York? Weird.

School for both of them goes about as well as it could. Alfred has a lot of friends and Mattie is immediately swept up in their hustle and bustle. Acting up in class pains him, but he has to do it to maintain the illusion. Alfred isn’t a bad kid, but he is a loud and energetic one. Matthew does his best (cringing inside) but his teachers still comment on his good behaviour. Mattie is worried…until he goes home and sees how pleased Arthur is. The teacher messaged him and Arthur couldn’t be prouder “Alfred” is taking school more seriously. Mattie can’t feel too bad about it then. Not after seeing his dad smile. Until Arthur bakes them some cakes to celebrate.

It’s a curse, Mattie thinks to himself as he struggles to chew through the charcoal without his eyes watering. A satanic curse. It must be, eh?

Meanwhile, Alfred does his best to keep up his Mattie act in his new “ooh, la, la” (his words) private school environment. Matthew is a model student, behaviour wise, and warned Alfred that he can’t get in trouble even a little or people will suspect. This is not easy for Alfred. Even less because Matthew is also a loner, so he has noone to help distract him from the boredom. It’s not that the other kids dislike Matthew, rather they just don’t seem to notice him. The teachers appreciate how well behaved he is but they also tend to forget he exists. Again, extremely not easy for extroverted, vivacious Alfred. He can’t keep his exuberance fully under control and it’s a shocker moment for the class when their geography teacher has to tell Matthew Bonnefoy to pay attention for the first time ever(!) Haha, oops. At least they didn’t call Francis. Yet.

The twins have kept in contact and message each other frequently for hints and tips, and (in Alfred’s case) reminders about French vocabulary. They have a long talk about school after the first week and Mattie is irritated and stung when Alfred thoughtlessly comments on his lack of friends. Matthew snipes back about how happy Arthur was when the teacher complimented “Alfred” on his behaviour. Something which gets to Alfred more than he likes to admit. The boys end their talk early that night and both go to bed feeling ruffled.

The next morning when Matthew wakes up, he comes down to breakfast (🥲) as usual. Only to freeze in the kitchen doorway when he sees who’s making it. Arthur is sitting at the table, reading the paper news he still refuses to trade in for an app. At the stove, cooking omlettes that actually smell good, is:

“Buenos días, Al! You want two eggs or three?”

Mattie recognizes the handsone spaniard from the pictures Alfred showed him. His work trip done, Tony is back.

(Life has been busy so here’s a shorter update. Hope you enjoyed! Stay tuned for part 8 (´ε｀ )♡)

[thefrontofmymind]

12 Days of Christmas: Day 1 - Secret Santa

hello all! this is the first installment of @abiiors 's 12 Days of Christmas !!

NOTE: this is a continuation of Nothing's Changed, a oneshot I wrote a few months ago. i would say you should read it beforehand just so you know what's going on

You weren’t nervous for the faculty secret santa, you’d seen a billion listicles of good generic gifts that could fit just about any of you coworkers.

It was only as you slyly opened the folded piece of paper you drew from the box and read the name, a shock went down your spine and you broke into a cold sweat. Ross.

You could argue it was silly to get so worried. You had your lists! But with Ross…it has to be special. You had to get him something meaningful–this was your first Christmas together, and granted you’d already ordered him a stack of vintage records of albums he loved, but you knew you couldn’t flake out and get him…a box of chocolates, for example.

But you had to be careful, anything too special could set off alarm bells in everyone else’s heads. It was common knowledge that you were friends in uni, and when given the chance you would be glued to each other’s sides, but there were policies about fraternisation between colleagues and you couldn’t lose this job.

You wracked your brain from the Wednesday morning of the name draw, up until Friday afternoon trying to think of something–anything–for Ross.

“You still here?” Lou said, popping her head through your doorway. “I thought I’d be the last one out of here tonight!”

You laughed–your neighbouring drama teacher was known for spending her evenings building set pieces and readying props and costumes for whatever performance her classes were doing next. “Just…milling around…”

“What’s up?” In the few months you’d known her, it seemed Lou always had the knack for sensing when someone was off; she’d know to send a student to the school nurse just with one glance at them.

“It’s silly, really…” You trailed off.

“It’s clearly bothering you, what’s up?” She persisted, taking a seat on the desk closest to your work station at the front of the room–where Ross would sit to eat lunch with you everyday for the past 2 months.

“I just don’t know what to get my secret santa–I know it’s stupid to get all worried about it–just…you know, I need it to be perfect,” you answered.

Lou let out a sigh. “What are you doing tomorrow? We can go into town and I’ll help you find a gift.” 

You breathed a sigh of relief at the idea of help. Though, how would you go about with Lou’s help without her cottoning on to the fact that the one reason you were so nervous was that you didn’t want to toe the line of co-workers and romantic partners too much around the people that couldn’t know.

“And maybe I’ll find something for my gift,” she continued. “What do you get Jimmy in Geography, anyway?”

“A map?” You joked.

“Well I imagine he probably has enough of those laying around,” Lou answered with a grin. “Who do you have anyway?”

“Ross.”

“Ah, right, I get it now…” she commented before leaving, calling out a quick ‘I’ll drop by at 10!’ as she strolled out the door.

~~~

It wasn’t as cold as you expected the next morning. The sun had come out and there was a light layer of dew over the outside frames of the windows of your flat. You could even get away with just wearing your coat with a normal t-shirt for once.

You spoke to Ross the night before–he had grading to do before the end of term so he was spending his whole Saturday in a hole in his living room, surrounded by four classes worth of history essays to read. You were grateful he didn’t ask what your plans were, you just left it at a ‘then I’ll leave you to it’ and he seemed satisfied with it.

And in a stroke of rare luck, Lou was at your doorstep at 10 on the dot, with two oat milk lattes in her hands. It was never her forte to be on time, but you were glad your morning wasn’t full of anxiously waiting around for your coworker–and now friend. 

“So what are you thinking?” Lou asked as you strolled through the crowded street mall you found yourself in. She pointed to a fancy cosmetics shop. “Cologne or something maybe?”

“Not personal enough, I think,” you answered. “Why couldn’t I just get someone I don’t know anything about?!”

Lou laughed. It made you realise you may have been overthinking it just a little. You’d known Ross for years, you loved him… You just had to go with your gut.

“You and Ross are close, huh?” Lou continued after a few moments of silent strolling.

“In uni…we were inseparable,” you replied. “Like really close.”

She gave you a look, wide eyes. It was a silent question. Just how close? You gave one curt nod in response, a sign that you couldn’t talk about it, but it was clear what the answer would be.

Suddenly you felt like a weight had come off your chest. Finally you were honest to someone about Ross. You realised you didn’t have to completely hide your relationship, you just had to be careful about it. You immediately caught onto the notion that by and large you didn’t need to overthink this all; just go with your heart, and you’ll find the perfect gift for the most perfect man.

Walking past a jeweller, a gold glint caught the corner of your eye. It was a display in the window–a gold chain, not too delicate, but thick enough for you to see it immediately. You made a b-line for it without even looking to Lou. Every link interlocked with each other and laid so smoothly. 

You remembered Ross wore a thin chain in university–you remembered it dangling over your face as he hovered above you, begging for him to drown you in kisses yet again. At some point over the years he must have either lost it or forgone it as a growing moment. You missed it tickling your face, hiding within his chest hair like a hidden treasure waiting to be unearthed–you got butterflies just thinking about it.

Sure, it was a little out of the price range for the gift exchange, but you always took those sorts of things as just a guideline. You and Lou walked out of the little family-owned shop with a tiny navy blue bag in your hand and a spring in your step.

~~~

You kept one eye on the small wrapped box under the tree in the staffroom during the staff party. Even though no one, bar Lou, knew what it contained, you were still worried someone would take it or misplace it or mistake it for their own gift. Through drinks and shallow conversations about your holiday plans and picking at the spread of potluck appetisers provided but almost everyone in the room, every so often you would just quickly glance to make sure it was still in it’s spot sitting atop a wrapped cylinder that you could only guess was a candle–it made you giggle to yourself to think that someone panicked and grabbed the first think they could think of, the most basic gift imaginable.

You spent most of your time glued next to Ross. He looked so…beautiful in his knitted red sweater with his hair pulled back like usual. You just couldn’t wait for him to open his gift. You couldn’t help but stare at the glint in his eyes as he chuckled along with the group at Kerry from biology’s story about her sons’ antics.

After about an hour and a half of mingling, it was finally time for the gifts. You all sat in a big circle around the staff room as Principal Janine handed out the wrapped presents. You giggled at the gag gifts, smiled at the sweet gifts, and tried to hide your confusion at gifts that were clearly some kind of inside joke you weren’t privy to.

Janine finally picked up the box for Ross. “And this one’s for…Ross!”

You could barely contain your excitement as he began to tear at the corner of the wrapping. You could tell he was being gentle with it, trying to ignore the spurs of “rip it!” from the group. He looked inquisitively at the small velvet box once it was free from the paper.

“Open it,” you whispered from beside him. You almost missed the glint in his eye as he slyly glanced at you. You knew you’d already given the game away–he knew it was from you.

The gold chain didn’t sparkle as much as you hoped under the fluorescent lights of the staff room, but it still caused a mist in Ross’ eyes just the same.

“So who do you think it’s from, then?” Lou asked with a grin–after all, she was there with you when you bought it.

“It can only be from one person, I reckon.” He smiled and placed a firm hand on the back of your shoulder.

You could’ve melted under his touch then and there. Even with all the private escapades you had gotten up to, nothing could compare to the adrenaline rush you felt at the tiniest amount of affection you could show each other in public.

“Well, I noticed you don’t wear one anymore! I thought you could get a little nostalgia from it!” You were smiling so wide, it looked like someone had stuck a clothes hanger in your mouth.

You noticed that underneath the tree was beginning to get sparse. Only about half a dozen gifts were left, you wondered which one was yours.

Janine grabbed a bulky, square-shaped, wrapped box and read the nametag on it. She joyfully passed it to you.

You couldn’t help but immediately tear the wrapping, making just an ounce of the mess you used to love making on Christmas morning when you were a kid.

It was a bottle of perfume. Not just any bottle. Britney Spears’ Midnight Fantasy. You let out a deep chuckle once you’d registered what it was–the perfume you were just about addicted to in uni, you pretty much had a stockpile running of them for your full 3 years there.

You heard a laugh from beside you. Ross had a smile just as wide as yours, his cheeks had all bunched up and he got those little creases at the edges of his eyes that you loved so much.

“Of course!” You bellowed. You realised everyone else in the room looked confused, you thought it’d be kind to clue them in. “I was obsessed with this perfume in uni, like, I don’t think I ever wore another perfume then.”

“Never! We knew you’d be coming when we could smell it while you were still a mile up the road!”

~~~

Ross’ cheeks were lit but the LED tealights surrounding your flat. You set up a picnic of sorts–inside, of course, no one in their right mind would stay outside in the freezing temperatures for longer than necessary–with an Indian takeaway.

It was small moments like this, the intimacy, that made you appreciate Ross even more. You’d thought it out and come to a conclusion; you didn’t mind that you couldn’t be all love-y with each other in public, it was the private times that counted, and with each interaction you could feel yourself falling further and further.

“I hope you like it,” you said, when discussing your secret Santa gifts–coincidentally to each other.

“Are you kidding, love? You’ll have to wrestle it off me now!” He smiled, a little wonky from the two bottles of wine you’d shared that evening.

You giggled. “I’m glad, and likewise with the perfume I…I can’t believe you remembered the exact one.”

“Of course I did!” He replied. He placed his plate on the picnic blanket that was sprawled out on your living room floor. “I actually have something else–to go along with it…”

He shifted and turned to dig through his bag, normally filled with supplies for school and his laptop. He retrieved a brown paper binded scrapbook.

“This was the-uh-second part of the gift,” he continued. “But I couldn’t quite give you this bit in front of everyone else.”

He handed you the book, and you finally got a good look at the cover. There was a picture of the two of you back from some university party back in the day–probably scoured from someone’s Facebook memories. You tried to hide your cringe at your outfit, not quite something you would wear today.

You began to flip through the pages. Photos from your year together, tickets to the films you saw at the cinema, a concert ticket or two as well. Each page had a little paragraph written right onto it in Ross’ scribbly yet concise handwriting–sometimes explaining a memory of a day in the fall when you got excited to watch Hocus Pocus with him, or a poem about snow falling down on you and resting in your hair.

You flipped to the last page, there was a lengthy letter written.

My love,

If all is going as planned, I’m watching you read this right now. I could stare at you forever, you know that?

You looked up to see Ross smiling at you, you couldn’t help but let out a schoolgirl-like giggle.

Even though you’ll vehemently deny it, the truth is you are the most beautiful sight in the world. Ever. I will never get sick of being graced by those eyes, the curve of your neck into your shoulders, your arms that you swear dangle just a little too far to be proportionate, and those hips–my word, those hips.

I could go on about your looks forever, but that is barely the tip of the iceberg when it comes to the marvel that is you. You’re always so kind, so caring, and you’re the smartest in most rooms you’re in.

For a long time I thought the only chance I had with you was gone when we split so long ago. I must’ve accrued some bloody good karma to give me a second chance at loving you. I know it hasn’t been that long this time around yet, and I know we’re bound for a hassle the longer this goes on, but I want you to know that I’m in it. Whatever it takes, you are staying in my life and there’s not a chance I’m letting you go again.

All of this to say, I love you.

Your Ross

P.S. Don’t feel pressure to say it back or anything. It’s just important that you know.

You couldn’t stop the grin on your face. There was heat spreading all across your face and neck. You realised you hadn’t looked back up at Ross yet–you just couldn’t help but re-read the last few lines of his letter. I love you. I love you. I love you.

When you finally looked back at him, you could see his smile had faltered just a little. He was worried about your response.

You tried to find the words to tell him how you felt. How perfect this all was.

“Sorry if I…overstepped,” he started. “I just had to get it out, you know? Like there was this-”

You cut him off with a kiss. A deep kiss. The kind that did all the talking for you. The kind where you didn’t care that your teeth hit each other on impact and your neck was craning in an awkward position and all of Ross’ weight was settled on one hand leaning on the carpet and it was beginning to aggravate the skin on the palm of his hand.

In the end, none of that mattered. Because you loved each other, and after so long without one another that was the most important thing in your life.

[triple-a-444]

Did I drag some people in my geography class into hmv to see my fave album in the wild (I bought it from a concert)? Yes. Yes I did, 0 regrets (they’ve never heard of Bears in Trees but now they have hehe)

Also nearly bought a silly goose pin for funsies but they were out of stock, will have to go to my local hmv for that some time ;-;