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five-miles-over · 4 years

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‘Aftermath’ Part 6: These Palace Walls (Commodus x OC)

Summary: Caesonia is flooded with paranoia after being surprised with gifts, and struggles with her own haunting past as she gets closer to Commodus. Meanwhile, Commodus’s plans to bring back the games are not well-received by all.

Warning: Angst, mentions of parental abuse, an incest kiss (spoiler: it doesn’t involve Commodus), masturbation, and a sexual fantasy

Word Count: 2,925

Read Part 1: The Impossible Dream here

Read Part 2: Proud of Your Boy here

Read Part 3: Point of No Return here

Read Part 4: Look Down here

Read Part 5: Beneath a Moonless Sky here

The parchment crinkled in her pale, dry fingertips as Caesonia re-read the poem found among the plate of cosmetics. It was romantic, like the type a lover would address to their beloved, or perhaps it was the type that an artist would write to his muse, usually a maiden of heavenly beauty.

Her paranoia and fear made her wish to assume the letter was mistakenly given to her. Who would shower such affection upon her anyways? She was just a general’s daughter and, in the eyes of the emperor, she was also the daughter of a traitor. Yet, Caesonia could not hide her blush at the prospect of being wooed so tenderly. After all, she was a maiden of sixteen - if her father were not banished to Antioch, he would be searching for someone for her to marry. Even if he did not give her the love she wished from a father, he would still make sure that her betrothed was someone worthy of being a general’s son-in-law. It was no secret her father loved his reputation more than his own kith and kin.

On the night your soft, finely curved lips met mine,

I witnessed your rosy cheeks bloom from that rose-like face of thine.”

If it were truly addressed to her, then it must have been from the Emperor himself. He was the only person she’d ever kissed; it made logical sense. The question of his motives, however, remained unanswered. Did he wish to make her his concubine? Her servitude in exchange for her father’s life? It was possible that his solitude and recent events have made him crave things he’d never craved so badly before.

Caesonia refused to believe that he was truly as mad as the citizens of Rome made him seem. Having been the first son born in the royal Aurelian family after at least five generations of adopted emperors, it was truly startling to know that Commodus would be the one not receiving the crown. She could only imagine how devastating it would be for the prince himself, being raised in royalty for his whole life all to be suddenly cast aside like a nobody. Wouldn’t any man, given such circumstances, succumb to dark thoughts?

But, despite her sympathy for the Emperor, she knew she had to be careful. If there was anything that her time in the Roman military camps had taught her, it was that she needed to be vigilant at all times. From this sudden doubt occupying her mind, Caesonia found herself pouring small portions of the perfume out of the tiny window, onto the surrounding ivy. She thought that if the perfumes made the plants wilt, then it might be toxic for her. In all honesty, Caesonia didn’t even know why she did such a thing; the suspicion of being poisoned just came automatically to her.

“Lady Caesonia,” a voice called to her. She turned around to find a servant outside her chamber holding another pink dress, folded neatly. Caesonia curtsied before the servant, “Pray tell me what news you have brought for me, my lady.”

The servant tried to remain emotionless, despite being addressed with such a lofty term. “The Emperor has ordered you to share his morning meal with him, Lady Caesonia. And to wear this,” she handed Caesonia the carnation pink stola. “Would you like me to assist you in putting it on, Lady Caesonia?”

“No, thank you,” the young woman replied. “Might I know if Caesar has any particular criteria for my hair or possibly my…face?” The servant recognized Caesonia’s fright, answering calmly that there was no such requirement imposed by the emperor.

Without wasting any more time, Caesonia changed out of the coarse toga and into the stola given to her. Examining her reflection in the mirror, she tied the magenta ribbons of the garment around her shoulders, her bust, and her waist necessary for the outfit to be complete. She was still unsure about leaving her hair loose, but kept it such anyway and placed a few drops of the perfume on her neck.

Caesonia gingerly held the servant’s hand as if the servant were her elder sister and not a maid. Even while growing up, she always held a soft spot for those who did menial work. She could always trust them to be plain and transparent with their words, while the nobility always schemed and deceived.

Her father would have no patience for such thoughts from her, harshly scolding her that this was against the Roman way of thinking. That the perfect Roman admired wealth and power, all while doing everything it took to preserve their status. That she, Caesonia Quintina, ought to be grateful for being born to a powerful general and start behaving like it. Scolding herself for thinking of her father while being led to the emperor, she tried to brush her thoughts aside and look poised.

Commodus was already at the long, wooden table which was laden with cheeses, dates, honey, and freshly baked bread. Under his breath, he sighed in relief that she’d come to him. She was nothing like Lucilla, but his inner demons had convinced him that Caesonia would reject him too. “Ave Caesar*,” Caesonia greeted him, daintily approaching the emperor. When she kissed his ring, he caught a whiff of the perfume she wore. Recognizing it as one of the perfumes he ordered to be brought to her last night, Commodus couldn’t control his smile; it was a signal she liked him too.

At his gesture, she obediently sat near him at the table. Caesonia was hesitant to eat, only allowing herself to start chewing on a piece of bread after the emperor was halfway finished with his breakfast. Too afraid of being impudent, she remained silent, just like her father said women ought to be. Caesonia couldn’t stop thinking about her earlier act driven by fear. She hoped that no one would ever find out about her suspecting the perfumes; she’d be devastated if anyone ever knew. The emperor would be furious with her, and her father would say she was unworthy of being treated properly. If she weren’t in the presence of the most powerful man in Rome, Caesonia would’ve broken down into tears right there while thinking about her father’s criticism.

Meanwhile, invigorated by desire and emboldened by proximity, Commodus leaned in to give her a kiss. On the mouth or on the cheek, he would’ve preferred either but quickly retreated his lips when he saw the look in her eyes. It was a look of fear and of sorrow. Was she afraid of him? Were his actions of last night too rash for her? Or…were his inner demons right in saying that she loathed him? Perhaps she was thinking about ending this meal as quickly as possible in order to escape his presence. That could be the reason why she seemed to eat so little - a general’s daughter would usually be habituated with eating well.

Years ago, the idea of being rejected by someone would’ve made his fists clench and his knuckles turn white, but not anymore. Commodus had seen rejection in its various colors, and had grown used to fighting it. Like a seasoned gladiator, he fought rejection every time and won. When his father rejected him in favor of Maximus, he took the life of the late Caesar and brought the throne into his own hands. When the people of Rome rejected him for Maximus, he killed the blasted Spaniard and won their respect. No one dared to speak against him like Maximus did. When Lucilla rejected him for Maximus and the Senate, he’d risen from the dead and slain their leader Senator Gracchus. Along with her hopes for a Roman republic, he’d banished her from the palace forever. Now that there was no Maximus, his newest round would be easier, and his prize would certainly be worth the efforts.

“I must go now, my lady.” He finally broke the silence when it seemed that she’d finished her plate. Caesonia turned towards him, “To where, your Highness?”

“My duties,” Commodus answered in a tone that reminded her whom she was sitting near and whose hospitality she ought not to insult. “I must see about the armies and the new recruits to the Praetorian Guard. Your father is to be replaced.”

“And moreover,” he continued with a slightly brighter voice. “I am to continue planning the games I originally held to honor my late father. You do enjoy the games?”

“Certainly, Caesar,” Caesonia quickly said, nodding with hope she’d given the right answer. “Good.” The emperor got up from his seat and Caesonia followed, trying not to be rude. As the two of them rose to their feet, their hands innocently brushed against each other, causing her to quietly apologize for the incident.

Another maid came to her side to lead her back to her new chamber as Caesonia watched him leave. “Caesar!” She called out to him, blinking profusely when he turned around. “I-I thank you for inviting me to share your meal with you. It was a kind gesture of you and I-I found your company agreeable,” she remarked, simultaneously internally chastising herself for her choice of words.

“Welcome,” was all Commodus said, nodding his head regally in acknowledgment of her words. He did not want to seem too emotional or show his weakness before her, but on the inside, her gratitude delighted him like a flower delighted a honeybee.

———————————————————————————————————

“Take a good hard look at people’s ruling principle, especially of the wise, what they run away from & what they seek out.”

The Caesar may have been long dead, but his stoic teachings lay in the hearts of many a Roman. In his villa, the young man flipped the pages of the book on stoicism. He admired the philosopher emperor, and was certain that many of the intellectuals of the city shared his devotion. “Philomenus!” a female voice called sharply.

“I’m coming, sister!” He closed the book he was reading and hid it before anyone else could find it. With the emperor’s new strict laws against treason, everyone had to watch their words. Not even Philomenus Plutarchus, the leader of first cohort of the Roman army, was safe to speak his mind.

When he came into the kitchen, his sister Claudia was cooking while his younger brother and other sister were playing loudly. “Brother, brother!” The little boy ran up to Philomenus, jumping up and down. “Gladiatores violenti**! The games are soon to begin again!” In response, Philomenus merely ruffled his brother’s hair, preferring to turn his attention towards his sister.

Claudia was quick to give him a bowl of porridge and calm their younger siblings. “The emperor is coming to oversee the army,” she reprimanded her older brother. “Do you want to upset his Highness with your tardiness?”

“Claudia,” Philomenus complained through a mouthful of grain. “Don’t ‘Claudia’ me, we both know it’s important.” He pulled his sister close and fed her a spoonful of porridge from his own bowl. “You know, you’ve almost made it feel as if Mama were still here.”

She sighed as he continued to eat, “Mama and Papa would be proud knowing that you still serve Rome loyally. I’m only trying the best I can to keep our house a loving home.”

“You’ve done more than the best, Claudia,” he assured her. “Our brother Julius and little sister Aurelia are thriving as they should be. Mama would be pleased at how well you’re taking care of them.” To affirm his statement, Philomenus pecked his sister on the lips. It was something they’d been doing with each other as teenagers while assuming the roles of the ‘mother’ and the ‘father’ of the household. At this point, it felt almost mundane.

“It seems the whole town is talking about the new gladiatorial games that the Emperor is planning,” Claudia remarked, changing the subject.

“He cannot keep ruling like this. Games after games; he is draining money from the empire while the plague ravages us and the Germanic barbarians are left unattended.” Philomenus shook his head. “This is nothing like the Rome that Emperor Marcus Aurelius envisioned.”

He continued ranting to his sister, “Commodus is trying to take absolute control of everything. He is dividing and conquering his way to being the sole bearer of power. First Lady Lucilla, Senator Gracchus, General Quintus…sooner or later, he’ll have no one to advise him, no one to keep his powers in check. Claudia, we’ve known about this man on the throne since we were children. His own father had no faith in him!”

“I know,” she answered in a low voice, hoping that he’d do the same. “And I also know Papa and you were of those men who still consider the philosopher to be Rome’s true emperor. We may be of high status, but our situation is dire as is; we must do what it takes to survive.”

“There is a difference between surviving and living, Claudia.”

She fixed the toga he wore, “Philomenus, please. I know that the Spaniard caused a movement when he arrived, but his death has sent a message to those who dare oppose the Emperor.”

“We cannot let fear stray us from supporting the side of truth,” he said fiercely. “Claudia, no tyrant can forever suppress the innate freedom of speech. Those who dare to control others will find themselves under the control of others.”

———————————————————————————————————

Nighttime, as always, found the emperor alone in his study. With the Senators not daring to speak against him, too occupied with the chaos within their own circles, Commodus found his work surprisingly reduced. Yet, an excellent emperor would always be on the lookout for something coming. There was always a period of calm before the storm would inevitably strike the empire. And with Lucilla and her tonics gone, there was no one urging him to go to sleep. For a moment, the thought this prospect made him feel like a little boy allowed to have as many sweets as he liked.

What might it be like to have a wife, he thought, someone who would coax him to join her in bed every night. She would call him with the most charming of words of affection, and her touch…her touch would be more overwhelming than the lightning bolt of Jupiter and the trident of Neptune together.

The mere thought of being touched so sensually awakened the lustful side of Commodus, and he stroked himself through his robes a few times. Reaching through his clothing, Commodus wrapped his fingers around his length and slowly began to pump himself. Closing his eyes, he reveled in a fantasy and let his mind run free. A young lady stood at the entrance of his study with a red-lipped smile and a white nightgown that traced her curves - a sight that would be for his eyes and no one else’s. “Commodus,” she sweetly called to him. Her face became more recognizable to him as she walked closer to his desk.

“Caesonia?” His lip curled upwards at the mere utterance of her name. He sensed her pleasant, familiar perfume as she hugged him from behind and kissed his temple. “What brings you here so late, my love?,” Commodus asked her.

“The children have slept, dearest, but I couldn’t. The bed felt lonely without you.”

Commodus patted his thigh, beckoning for her to sit on his lap. “I shall be with you soon, my love. I promise,” he grinned as she leaned against his shoulder.

“You need your rest, Commodus. Come to bed, my sweet,” she begged him. Her mouth nipped at the nape of his neck, kissing the sensitive skin. “Come to bed, please…”

He sighed at her alluring persuasion. “A good emperor cannot refuse his empress,” he chuckled, placing his quill down. Before she could ask, he snaked his arm around Caesonia’s knees, lifting her and carrying her to their bedroom.

“Commodus!” She chided him playfully, nuzzling into the crook of his neck. “Don’t play innocent, you saucy nymph…” The two of them laughed as they fell onto the soft, imperial mattress. He slowly slid her dress down to her ankles, her aphrodisiacal scent filling his lungs and her glistening wetness catching his eye.

Still stroking himself, his thumb began to fondle his tip and the emperor bit his lip to stifle his grunts. He imagined enjoying her beautiful face and body all to himself, and how wonderful it would be to hear the sweet moans falling from her lips when they made love. Throwing his head back and groaning, his pace grew quicker as he fantasized about passionately taking her again and again, watching her come undone at his mercy every time. And when they were finally spent from their amorous deeds, she would whisper sweet nothings into his hair while he kissed the tips of her breasts.

The sticky release in his hand interrupted his fantasy, putting an end to the erotic illusion Commodus had indulged in. A frightful dream, life is, Commodus thought to himself as he wished he didn’t have to return to the real world so soon. He wiped his hand on a piece of parchment - only boys wiped their hands on their clothing, and the parchment didn’t have anything of value on it, anyway.

Taking a deep breath, Commodus continued to busy himself with thoughts about eventually dissolving the Senate of Rome. In his eyes, it was better to stay awake and confront enemies, than to sleep and let himself be tortured by them.

*Ave Caesar = Hail Caesar

** Gladiatores violent = violent gladiators

#gladiator 2000 #commodus #emperor commodus #gladiator #gladiator au #gladiator fic

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theladydrgn · 5 years

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Thanks in no small part to @icibue I just spent the last day crafting RWBY/Pokemon AU headcanons. Please keep in mind that this is 50% funny, 50% serious and 100% self-indulgent!

· Ozpin gives each new student an Eevee egg to hatch and train as part of their course work.

· All the schools give different particular pokemon, Ozpin is just very fond of Eevee because of how much it can ‘change’.

· Mythical and God-like pokes cannot be captured and instead ‘choose’ trainers. Being chosen by such a Pokemon is considered a very high honor but also puts that trainer at risk of being targeted by Salem.

· Xerneas and Yveltal take the place of the God of Light and God of Darkness.

· Celebi chose to be Oz’s partner centuries ago and is always the first to find him again after reincarnation.

· The Xiao-Long family have raised the Kommo-o line of Pokemon for generations and it is customary for a Jangmo-o to be their child’s first Pokemon.

· The Roses were known for raising Roselia and Roserade for show.

· The Honchkrows Ozpin and Qrow have are from the same clutch of eggs.

· Ozpin owns and cares for many pokemon but keeps two teams at the ready. One is a public team that is well known. The other is a private team that contains pokemon he has had through many lifetimes.

· Because of the presence of Pokemon on Remnant, the world is a little safer for everyday citizens, though Grimm ARE attracted to pokemon just like humans.

· The Huntsman Academies teach how to hunt Grimm and how to raise Pokemon.

· Beacon Academy focuses on living in harmony with Pokemon and working together with them. Using pokeballs is optional for Huntsmen who have demonstrated close bonds with their Pokemon.

· Atlas Academy focuses on Pokemon’s use in military tactics and has an extensive breeding program focused on breeding the strongest Pokemon. Pokemon are not allowed to be out of their pokeballs without military sanction.

· Haven and Mistral are well known for their Pokemon Contests and shows. Battling is taught at Haven but definitely takes a backseat to the ‘art’ of raising Pokemon.

· Since law and order is rare in Vacuo, almost anything goes. Having a strong team that can protect you and yours is what gets taught at Shade Academy. Since pokeballs are easily stolen they are very rarely used.

Now for Team Headcanons along with my personal reasoning for why I chose the teams I did. I was getting very tired towards the end of the team building, so I apologize if some teams aren’t as ‘fleshed-out’ as others.

STRQ

Summer Rose

1. Shiny Roserade – Obvious choice honestly

2. Alolan (Menagerie) Cubone – Summer having a poke that lost it’s poke-mom and human mom was too entertaining to not do.

3. Sylveon – Summer being the ‘heart’ of team STRQ

4. Blissey – Since Yang described Summer as ‘super mom’ having a pokemon described at ‘nurturing’ seemed fitting.

5. Gardevoir – The entire Gardevoir line is very sensitive to emotions and I headcanon Summer as being fairly bubbly.

6. Altaria – I didn’t have any super specific reasons for this one. Just seemed like a poke Summer would have ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Taiyang Xiao-Long

1. Jolteon – Jolteon fits Tai’s color scheme. Sue me.

2. Pangoro – A fighting type that doesn’t like it when the weak get picked on

3. Kommo-o – The only fighting dragon pokemon and it just so happens to fit Tai’s color scheme

4. Herdier – I mean, it’s obvious isn’t it?

5. Bewear – Another fighting bear but this one loves hugs

6. Drampa – A dragon that protects kids

Raven Branwen

1. Mandibuzz – Specifically said to hunt ‘weak’ prey

2. Salazzle – Rules over similar pokes and fits Ravens color scheme

3. Weavile – Hunting in small groups to take down larger prey sounds a lot like the Branwen tribe

4. Umbreon – The only Eeveeloution that fit ravens color scheme ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

5. Hydreigon – Brutal and destructive

6. Bisharp – Rules over packs of similar pokes and is called ‘pitiless’

Qrow Branwen

1. Honchkrow – Do you have to ask?

2. Absol – A pokemon said to bring misfortune/bad luck.

3. Umbreon – Fits Qrows aesthetic and the twins having the same Eeveeloution is funny to me.

4. Alolan Marowak – This is actually Summers Cubone evolved and I felt like Summer wouldn’t have brought a young untrained poke on a possibly deadly mission. Also seems fitting that Qrow would take to raising it since Tai would have his hands full raising his own team and the kids.

5. Staraptor – A loner birb that leaves its flock after growing up fits Qrow pretty fucking well.

6. Scrafty – A poke that comes off as rude and actually cares about its loved ones.

RWBY

Ruby Rose

1. Scyther – It has scythes for hands, what’s not to love?

2. Roselia – Wanting to keep Ruby’s family legacy going, Tai gives Ruby a Budew as her first Pokemon

3. Shiny Eevee – I mean silver Eevee… silver eyes… Also, it hasn’t evolved yet cause Ruby and Eevee are unsure of what they want it to be.

4. Rockruff – A pup that turns into a wolf, nuf said (it will probably turn into the midnight form…).

5. Electrike – A speedy boi that gives of showers of sparks as opposed to Ruby’s showers of petals

6. Zigzagoon – Another speedy boi

Weiss Schnee

1. Glaceon – Obvious is obvious

2. Alolan (Atlesian) Vulpix – Pretty snow fox for the pretty ice queen.

3. Dratini – Of course the rich kid would have something really rare

4. Furfrou – Fancy dog for the fancy girl

5. Brionne – A pretty poke that sings? 100% Weiss’s aesthetic.

6. Braixen – You can only have so much blue and white before you need a splash of color and a poke that uses a wand like how Weiss uses her weapon seemed fitting

Blake Belladonna

1. Litten – A cat that like to be solitary and doesn’t often display emotion… sounds like Blake to me!

2. Umbreon – Somehow Umbreon just fits for way too many people but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

3. Purrloin – Cute purple cat

4. Litwick – Blakes shadow clones kinda remind me of a ghosts sooo purple ghost poke?

5. Frogadier – Blake is a ninja. She absolutely needs a ninja Poke

6. Noibat – It’s purple and has great hearing ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Yang Xiao-Long

1. Jangmo-o – It’s a punchy dragon and fits her color scheme ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

2. Makuhita – Yellow, punchy, never gives up

3. Flareon – Yang’s hair literally lights on fire. I would be dumb to NOT give her Flareon

4. Combusken – I mean it’s fire, it’s fighting, and warn when hugged!

5. Rufflet – Ok SO Rufflet and it’s eventual evolution into Braviary fits Yang really well. Rufflet starts out feeling like it needs to prove itself and fighting everything it can (including it’s own parents). After evolving it still fights like a champ, but for more ‘noble’ reasons, aka to protect friends and loved ones.

6. Corphish – JuST hear me out on this one. Corphish are said to be REALLY hardy and able to survive in the worst conditions. They also like to fight a lot.

JNPR

Jaune Arc

1. Growlithe – Friendly and loyal ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

2. Eevee – His Eevee eventually becomes Sylveon because Jaune is a cinnamon roll

3. Buneary – Won the egg from cereal box tops

4. Riolu – Riolu and Lucario are described as loyal and having a very strong sense of justice

5. Honedge – This one has been in has family for a long time

6. Skarmory – Jaune only had a team of 5, but when Pyrrha died her Skarmory was the only survivor and Jaune took it upon himself to raise it.

Nora Valkyrie

1. Jolteon – What did you expect?

2. Rhyhorn – It has the lightning horn ability for obvious reasons

3. Flaaffy – Happy, fluffy, pink, and electric

4. Teddiursa – Cute, loves sweet things, and it’s evolution is a rage bear. Nuf said.

5. Munchlax – They both have bottomless stomachs

6. Woobat – If Nora’s heart cannons are anything to go by, she would love this Pokemon

Pyrrha Nikos

1. Magnemite – Polarity… Magnetism… Magnemite… I’m not very original

2. Eevee – Pyrrha’s Eevee would have become a Jolteon if she were still alive.

3. Skarmory – Steel types really are obvious choices.

4. Nosepass – It’s nose is literally magnetic

5. Victini – With all of the talk of Pyrrha being ‘fated’ for victory, it would be silly to not give her the pokemon that makes that true.

6. Buneary – Pyrrha ended up being given one of the Pumpkin Pete mascots

Lie Ren

1. Espeon – When I think of Ren I think of psychic pokes so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

2. Natu – Calm and cautious like Ren

3. Nincada – Only other ninja poke that isn’t Froakie

4. Espurr – Another calm psychic ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

5. Joltik – A cute little critter to remind him of Nora

6. Zorua – Can hide it’s self which is closeish to Ren’s semblance

Misc.

Ozpin – Public Team

1. Espeon – Espeon’s tail fork is said to be able to sense danger so it makes sense Oz would keep one around.

2. Klinklang – I mean, the gear aesthetic it obvious isn’t it?

3. Mimikyu – I headcanon that Oz can very easily see the worth in literally anyone so giving him a poke that thinks it can’t be loved was a no-brainer

4. Shedinja – Pokemon with no soul VS man with too much soul

5. Honchkrow – Oz having a ‘dark’ pokemon and people think he’s shady? No way! (also, I’m a shipper shhhh)

6. Ninetales – Of course Oz would have a stupidly long lived Pokemon

Ozpin – Personal Team

1. Celebi – Of course the one person who can be found in almost any time period ever would be chosen by the literal time travel Pokemon… Also, Green.

2. Dragonite – Dragonite’s are kind, altruistic, and long lived.

3. Magearna – Man-made poke that has a gear aesthetic ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

4. Metagross – Made from fusing two Metang together.

5. Aegislash – Despite Ozma being a ‘wizard’ he was also a ‘warrior’

6. Zoroark – Uses illusions and would even sacrifice its life to protect loved ones.

#rwby #pokemon #strq #ozpin #jnpr #rwby pokemon au #i spent way too much time on this #but it was fun

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welllpthisishappening · 6 years

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From Just Outside the Box (1/2)

Emma Swan did not need an intervention. So, she was kind of, sort of freaking out. That was expected. It was called nesting. The websites said it would happen. At least she wasn't cooking. She had soccer replays to watch, anyway. And a kid to get ready for. A kid.

Killian Jones was not freaking out. That was kind of a lie. No one needed to know that. It was going to be fine and good and great because that's what the websites said. And he couldn't stress-bake while he was in the hospital. He had a kid to get ready for. A kid.

Or: an Out of the Frying Pan sequel with the World Cup.

Rating: Teen. There is kissing because of who I am as a person. Word Count: 7.2K ish. AN: This is not that sequel I was talking about before, but it is an absurd pile of fluff and family feelings and Belgian waffles. A few days ago @onceuponaprincessworld asked me if I was going to write anything about the World Cup and I was like...well, there was some soccer in Out of the Frying Pan, so I could do that? This is that. Seriously, check your teeth after. Killian’s POV on Tuesday because things have to be symmetrical. Also on Ao3 if that’s how you roll.

“The numbers are still fine.”

“Fine?”

“Yes, fine.”

“What does that mean?”

Ruby tilted her head, something that looked like amusement and felt a hell of a lot like judgement flashing across her face, and Emma slumped in the chair. She tried, at least. There wasn’t really much slumping to be had, mostly because at some point in the last few weeks, she’d lost what little control of her body she had left.

She felt unwieldy – which was a God awful word and a God awful expression, but she couldn’t come up with a better way to describe it and there was still three weeks of this.

Not that this was bad.

It wasn’t. It was good and several other adjectives that were much better than unwieldy, but Emma felt enormous and cumbersome and that was also better than unwieldy. And she was worried about her show’s numbers when said show took a leave of absence because she was taking a leave of absence and the word for that was maternity leave.

Emma Swan-Jones was going on maternity leave.

And she wasn’t really supposed to be in the chair she was kind of slumping in.

“Fine means fine,” Ruby said, and her expression hadn’t changed. “The actual definition of the word fine. We honestly cannot talk about this more. Why are you freaking out now?”

“I’m not freaking out.”

“Yuh huh. Try that again.”

“I’m not.”

“Once more with feeling.”

“Oh my God,” Emma grumbled, twisting her hair over her shoulder and it must have been at least six-thousand degrees in Ruby’s office. It felt like she was sitting on the surface of several different suns, and this distinct lack of bodily control was getting old real fast.

It had gotten old in, like, her second trimester, but that was neither here nor there and Emma was happy. She was so goddamn happy she was positive she was radiating with it at this point, some kind of maternal glow and happily ever after that led her to agree to a World Cup viewing party on the same weekend her last new show was going to run before she was taking a six-month break and Killian had been filming that afternoon.

That may have been why she’d taken a car uptown.

And Ruby probably knew that too.

Ruby definitely knew that.

The arch of her left eyebrow proved it.

“You want to keep doing this vaguely entertaining banter or you want to actually get to the crux of the issue here?” Ruby asked, sitting up straighter and things suddenly felt very official. Emma rolled her eyes.

“The crux of the issue is that I’m going to be off TV screens for six months straight.”

“That’s patently untrue.”

“What?”

Ruby blinked. And tilted her head a slightly different direction. And then she laughed – loudly, head thrown back and shoulders shaking and Emma was momentarily worried about the state of her chair, but Ruby had ridiculously nice office furniture and that crick at the base of Emma’s spine had almost entirely disappeared.

Maybe she could get Ruby to give her this chair.

To sit in. All night. During this party.

She hoped they had enough food.

“Em, are you serious?” Ruby asked skeptically, laughter clinging to the words and there were tears in her eyes. She shook her head, expression turning decidedly amused now. The whole thing felt a little patronizing. “We’ve done this several times, I promise. Have you not been listening?”

“I’ve totally been listening.”

“You’re not doing a very good job of proving it. This circles me back around to the freakout.”

“Who’s freaking out?”

Emma twisted at the sound of Mary Margaret’s voice, and she didn’t know who to glare at first. She picked Ruby. The choice wasn’t actually that hard.

“What the hell is this?” Emma shouted, waving her hand through open air like that would get Ruby’s eyebrow to agree to the laws of gravity. “Did you call backup.”

“Yes,” Ruby answered.

“Oh.”

“Didn’t think I’d agree that quickly, huh?”

Mary Margaret clicked her tongue in reproach and she must have left school early. Emma’s body was not emotionally equipped to handle that. “Ok, there’s no need to lord it over her,” Mary Margaret muttered, letting the bag on her shoulder drop onto the floor. “And it’s not backup so much as it is support. For whatever it is you’re freaking out about.”

“I’m not freaking out!”

“God, it honestly gets worse the more you say it,” Ruby laughed. “That’s almost impressive, Em. Not many people can do that.”

Emma tried to get her glare to intensify, but she was fairly positive that was impossible. She settled for sighing dramatically. “What is this plan we’ve apparently gone over so many times?”

“If you were listening to me instead of thinking how cute your kid with Jones is going to be, you’d know the answer to that question already.”

“You’re enjoying this.”

“Yes.”

“It’s weirding me out that you don’t want to banter more.”

“Ruby,” Mary Margaret chastised, balancing on the edge of the desk. “C’mon, just spit it out. You’re not helping. And,” she added with a smile, “that kid, whatever it turns out to be, is going to be crazy cute.”

Ruby nearly fell on the floor.

Emma was certain her laughter was going to be stuck in her head on an endless loop for the rest of the night. Maybe it would time up with whatever cheers Henry and Roland had inevitably come up with. There had been some discussion about who each of them were going to root for – a fight, really, but Killian had rested a hand on each kid’s shoulders and then there was talking and agreeing and apologizing and Henry mumbled something about not meaning to insult the history of English football that was, apparently, enough for Roland.

The whole thing messed with Emma’s pulse.

That was probably why she forgot the plan she and Ruby had come up when she realized there was going to be a kid and announced, in no uncertain terms, that she did not want to know what kind of kid it was going to be.

She was happy.

She didn’t need specifics. Or questionable gender-based color schemes.

And maybe that had inspired her own discussion with Killian and maybe now, three weeks before the kid was slated to arrive, Emma kind of, sort of, regretted the outcome of that discussion.

She really wanted to know.

She really wanted this kid.

She really needed to come up with a better phrase than slated to arrive.

“Whatever it turns out to be,” Ruby echoed, her body still rocking with the force of her laughter. Mary Margaret sighed. “M’s you’ve made it sound like an alien.”

“No, I have not! I’m just saying…you know if it’s a boy or a girl or…whatever, stop laughing and remind Emma that there are reruns of her show and an entire fanbase that will not disappear because she’s not coming up with new recipes.”

“I mean you just did it, so…”

“Oh, yeah, that’s kind of true, isn’t it?”

“This is why I called for backup.”

“I thought we weren’t using that word,” Emma said, cutting into the previously requested banter and Ruby grinned like they’d just won several Emmys.

“Semantics. It’s really going to be fine. No matter how much you freak out.”

“I’m still not freaking out.”

“You’re still an absolutely terrible liar, but I’ll give you this because you didn’t find out the gender of your soon-to-arrive bundle of joy and now you’re worried because you can’t pick a name and you like lists and order and Killian probably not-so-secretly has forty-seven names he’d like to use and forty-seven kids he’d like to have and—“

“—How is there more?”

“And are we really not going to address the use of the phrase bundle of joy?” Mary Margaret asked skeptically. Emma smiled. And took a deep breath. That was probably good for the bundle. Or pumpkin. Or alien. God, no, not an alien.

They really should have found out.

“Because,” Mary Margaret continued. “If I’m going to be mocked for my use of the English language, then I think it’s only fair Ruby gets drawn over several metaphorical coals.”

Emma let out a low whistle, resting her hands on her stomach and twisting until something that might have been her entire spine cracked. “Wow, M’s that was kind of harsh, actually.”

“I’m way behind on filling out report cards.”

“Just tell everyone they’re a pleasure to have in class,” Ruby suggested. “It’s generic enough to not be a compliment, but also good enough that no kid can get grounded.”

“I’m not teaching high school. Who is grounding elementary school kids?”

“I was a very rebellious eight-year-old.”

Emma’s head was spinning. And, really, she should have been used to it by now. Her life was, well, it was pretty goddamn fucking fantastic and despite the freak out she’d never actually admit to, she was fairly positive whatever kind of kid showed up in three weeks was going to be absolutely adored by an extended family that was kind of fairy-tale esque and parents who loved each other an almost questionable amount.

She hoped Killian won Iron Chef again.

He totally won Iron Chef again.

“M’s,” she said, interrupting, again, and Ruby’s eyebrows should have a competition with Killian’s eyebrows for supreme ridiculousness. “Should you be filling out report cards?”

Mary Margaret winced, squeezing one eye closed and Emma still couldn’t slump, but she certainly made an admirable effort. “I mean, technically,” Mary Margaret said, holding her hands up before Emma could argue more or question something else. “Everyone is done with classes and, like I said, they’re eight so it’s not like I’ve got final exams, but there was some kind faculty thing and I was supposed to help organize the library.”

“You blew off library organization?”

“I mean that sounds pretty horrible, right? And it’s crazy hot in that room.”

“You work at one of the best private schools in the city, they have air conditioning.”

“Yeah, but I’m trying to make sure you don’t feel bad.”

Emma wished the oxygen in her lungs would stay in her lungs. She hadn’t read nearly as much as Killian had in the last few months – she’d been pregnant before, she reasoned, although this was nothing like before and before seemed like some kind of dream now and they should pick a name for their kid – but she was fairly certain continued oxygen to her brain was necessary for continued consciousness.

But, as per usual, her body didn’t seem to give a damn and Emma kept sighing and huffing and, maybe, crying and the party later was going to be fun.

She and Killian had come up with a menu.

And then got caught making out behind the bar by Henry.

So, really, Emma’s life was some kind of ridiculous movie with absurdly good food at this point.

“I’ve lost all control of my emotions,” Emma shrugged. “But this is next level nice, M’s. Even if it’s unnecessary interference.”

“Ah, but that’s our game,” Ruby said. “We butt in, we question, we plan quasi-interventions because I know part of the reason you came here today was to stalk your husband’s set.”

Emma flushed, but she was really terrible at lying and Henry hadn’t even been surprised by the bar incident, just grumbled a string of curses under his breath that, if his parents weren’t so preoccupied, probably would have earned him his own grounding, and walked away.

After he grabbed four cookies out of the kitchen.

“Whatever,” Emma grumbled, and the whatever in her body kicked at her ribs. Mary Margaret and Ruby’s eyes both got dangerously wide when she gasped. “I’m fine, I’m fine, I’m fine. We’re just practicing soccer and probably spin kicks or corner kicks or something.”

Mary Margaret sniffled.

Ruby ducked her eyes.

Emma laughed.

“Oh my God,” she grinned, and they were going to single-handedly fix America’s soccer issue with the birth of this kid. She was convinced. “You guys are both great, big enormous saps.”

“You are stalking your husband,” Ruby argued.

“I don’t think that’s possible.”

“Ask David.”

“No.”

“Ah, damn, I was really hoping for more banter there.”

“Yeah, that seems to be kind of the theme,” Emma mumbled, and maybe they should have saved all this intervention stuff for Eric because the World Cup menu was, actually, kind of absurd. She was equal parts excited for and dreading the schnitzel.

And had flat out refused to allow bratwurst.

“You still want to talk about the numbers, don’t you?” Ruby asked knowingly, Mary Margaret’s attempt at turning her laugh into some other sound falling woefully short. Emma nodded. “Yeah, yeah, I figured. M’s covered all the high points. It’s the summer, Em. You don’t usually have new episodes in the summer.”

“Yeah, but I’m filming new episodes.”

“And now you’re…filming a kid.”

“That didn’t come out the way you wanted it to, did it?”

Ruby shook her head. “Not at all. The sentiment is the same though. You get to do this, Emma. You get to live in this moment and only this moment and you don’t have to worry about anything except how many diapers you’re going to have to buy and what to do with all the painfully adorable clothing Dor and I keep ordering.”

“How much painfully adorable clothing are we talking about here?”

“That’s not important.”

“You brought it up!”

“Way too much,” Mary Margaret mumbled, earning a pointed glare from Ruby that she ignored in favor of flashing a conspiratorial grin Emma’s direction. “It’s because they don’t have any suggestions to follow.”

Emma sighed. Again. She was going to set a record. “That was heavy-handed, M’s,” she accused. “Killian and I decided.”

“I know, I know, and I’m not passing judgement. Really. I’m just explaining why Ruby’s going to max out all her credit cards at several baby boutiques.”

“Ok, that seemed a little judgmental, honestly,” Ruby groaned. “Can we focus? Em, the show is great. It’s been doing great and better than great and, I mean, people know you’re pregnant. It’s not like we’ve tried to hide that.”

They hadn’t.

There’d been several discussions about that, but Emma was done with metaphorical boxes and her life was her life and she loved it and the internet had lost its collective mind the first time she showed up on screen with a ring on her left finger.

So, it only made sense. And she wanted to keep cooking – couldn’t really mask unwieldily after awhile, wasn’t really trying to, and she and Killian had made chocolate gingerbread pie on the holiday special that year. They were a family. With traditions. And the paperwork to prove it.

Henry had yelled “Mom and Dad” during the bar makeout incident.

“We run reruns in the summer,” Ruby continued. “We run a few more during the fall and then, when you want to and the soon-to-premiere, incredibly fashion forward infant shows up, you come back and you keep making fantastic food and Killian keeps winning Iron Chef and then you probably open up a national franchise.”

Emma scoffed, but there were still tears in her eyes and her body temperature was finally starting to even out. “What was that last part?”

Ruby’s grin spread across her face in slow motion, far too knowing to be comforting, but almost reassuring, and Emma was totally going to steal this chair. “Are you not planning on taking over the culinary world?” Ruby asked. “Seemed like the next logical step.”

“After?”

“The painfully adorable kid, God, Em, keep up.”

“Oh, right, right, of course.”

Mary Margaret laughed, something that sounded like settling in a way that wasn’t really that, but might have been comfort and happiness and Emma had demanded cheeseburgers on the menu that night. For her. And no one else.

Except maybe Henry.

And Roland.

Maybe a discussion about culinary domination was overdue.

Emma opened her mouth, not sure if she was going to thank her friends for being her friends or calming the freakout she totally was having, but the words that came out were as much a surprise to her as they, clearly, were to Mary Margaret and Ruby. “Where did you buy this chair?”

Ruby’s head fell onto her forearms, shoulders shaking and hair draped across her desk, and Mary Margaret squeezed Emma’s hand with a familiarity that nearly left them all crying again. And, really, Emma kind of knew he was there – could dimly hear the footsteps and that was familiar too, but those were sentimental thoughts and Emma had already done enough emotional things that day, so she didn’t look up when she heard the sound of his shoes or the click of his teeth and his arms were probably crossed over his chest when he leaned against the open doorway.

“How’d you get up here?” Killian asked, eyebrows doing something ridiculous when she moved. Ruby laughed louder. Mary Margaret might have mumbled aw under her breath.

“I sat in the backseat of a cab.”

“Cab?”

“Yes.”

“You didn’t call a car?”

Emma shrugged. “It was more spur of the moment than anything else. I’m not cooking though, so, you know…by comparison.”

“Comparison,” Killian echoed, and this conversation was going nowhere fast. Honestly, they should have looked up the contact information for Guinness World Records because Ruby had absolutely set several for both the length and volume of her laughter.

“Did you win?” Emma asked. “And are you done?”

Killian nodded slowly, ignoring her huff of frustration when he didn’t actually answer either question, and Ruby finally pulled her head up. “You know, Em,” she said. “I might have been wrong before. Maybe Killian’s stalking you. You just have a sixth sense she was up here or how’d that work?”

“Regina told me she saw her getting out of the car.”

“That makes way more sense. Scientifically, you know.”

“Yuh huh.”

“I haven’t really been here that long,” Emma reasoned. “Sitting the whole time and everything. And really nothing about the not cooking thing? Because that was absolutely a positive.”

Killian hummed, but the almost-frown softened, the pinch between his eyebrows disappearing when that one muscle in his temple stopped jumping. Mary Margaret totally aw’ed again. “Were you considering breaking into the kitchen, love?”

“The thought crossed my mind. It’s a lot of food. And at least partially my kitchen.”

“More than partially.”

“Agh, this is gross,” Ruby whined. “Please wait until you are back in an office that you own, partially or otherwise, to start making out ok. I don’t need my psyche ruined too.”

Emma’s eyes widened, but she knew she was blushing, and Killian tugged on the back of his hair. “Henry might have mentioned it a couple days ago,” Mary Margaret explained. “The bar thing. Not like in a bad way, just a…Ariel said you guys hadn’t been spotted making out in hallways recently and—“

“—Oh my God, M’s, stop,” Emma pleaded, shooting a glance Killian’s direction. The tips of his ears had gone red.

“At least, you know, you guys are super, totally normal, run-of-the-mill parents,” Ruby grinned. “Plus he’s a teenager. If he’s not offended by you at all times, then you’re doing something wrong.”

“You’re a pillar of support, Lucas,” Killian muttered.

“I do what I can. And I really don’t think Henry hates you.”

“Jeez, Rubes,” Emma sighed. She leaned into Killian’s hand when he moved behind her, fingers tracing over the ridge of her spine and the back of her neck and maybe they could just make out some more and ignore soccer.

The pumpkin kicked again.

That felt like a sign.

“Well, as long as you don’t think so, Lucas, that’s clearly all that matters,” Killian said. Ruby narrowed her eyes.

“Your sarcasm is going to ruin the paint on my walls. You got to film again tomorrow?”

“Yes.”

“Man, do you also need an intervention?”

“No, this is an intervention?”

Ruby made a noise – not quite a laugh, more just general disbelief and something that sounded a bit like a growl – pushing away from her desk and standing up so abruptly she nearly knocked several stacks of paperwork on the floor. “Don’t let Emma cook later. She’s totally going to try.”

“A fact I’m well aware of.”

“Then we’re all on the same page.”

She was gone a moment later, Mary Margaret not far behind after she confirmed a seven o’clock party and the continued guarantee that she couldn’t bring anything, leaving Emma in the chair with her husband’s fingers working out a pinched muscle in her shoulder.

“God, how do you do that?” Emma mumbled, but Killian just laughed in response, pressing a kiss to the top of her hair and letting his fingers drift over the swell of her stomach. It couldn’t have been a particularly comfortable position, twisted as he was over her back and the chair and Emma was only kind of annoyed Ruby hadn’t answered her question, but he didn’t move – getting a rather aggressive kick for his efforts.

“Goal,” Emma said, dragging out the word in an absolutely horrible imitation of several different broadcasters and they were going to show several games at once. She was going to make out with Killian in the hallway. “C’mon, Lieutenant, I promise I won’t cook, but I’m totally going to watch while you do and you can tell me all about how you wrecked some other chef today.”

It took several minutes of almost heated discussion for Killian to actually agree to Emma coming into the kitchen –

”That’s half mine, you don’t get to tell me, that I can’t go in there.”

“It’s a safety concern, Swan.”

“I’m not going to stab myself!”

“Swan.”

“Half mine!”

And he sighed and huffed and did something else with his eyes, made them bluer or something, that almost got Emma to relent, or possibly grab his face and kiss him, hard, but then he kissed her and none of it really seemed to matter after that.

“I’m not worried about the fractions, love,” he murmured against her lips, prosthetic falling to her stomach and that seemed to be happening more and more every day. It hadn’t at first, the quiet nerves Killian had never really voiced obvious as soon as Emma started to show, and she wasn’t going to mention it.

She wasn’t going to talk about it if he didn’t want to, but that lasted all of a week – particularly when he had to twist his arm at decidedly awkward angles to touch her because he kept trying to touch her and that made her heart beat irregularly.

So she’d brought it up and promised it was fine because that was, apparently, the only adjective any of them knew, finally just tugging his hand forward and resting the plastic on her stomach and Killian stared at her like several different suns. And possibly a few outlying moons. Emma was going to scandalize all their friends with how much she kept trying to make out with her husband all night.

– but she settled into her spot a few inches away from one of the stoves eventually, the edge of the counter pressing almost pleasantly in the small of her back.

“You going to tell me how filming went now?” Emma asked. “You won, right?” Killian’s eyes flashed, but his lips quirked slightly and it was probably weird to be vaguely attracted to her husband’s ability to tie his own apron strings. “Do you think I didn’t win?”

“That’s not an answer. And a double negative.” “What were you doing in Ruby’s office this afternoon?” “Why was Regina spying?”

“That’s not an answer,” he said, grabbing a bowl and flour and she hadn’t noticed the wooden spoon stuck in his back pocket. That was ridiculously attractive too.

“What was your secret ingredient?” He grinned. And started making Belgian waffles. “Peaches.” “Peaches?” “That’s what I said, Swan,” Killian muttered, but there was still a smile and she didn’t care much about fractions either. Not when there was a theirs and a them and Mom and Dad, even when being screamed by a vaguely scandalized sixteen-year-old, sounded pretty goddamn fantastic. “And of course I won.” “What was your best dish?” “All of these questions seemed double-edged, love.” Emma made a face, Killian cracking several eggs and mixing without measuring and she still kind of wanted to cook. Her back was starting to hurt. Again. Or still. She’d lost track of time. And there were voices in the dining room, laughter and glasses clinking and what sounded like David, Robin and Henry all trying to hook up the projector at the same time.

“Not double-edged,” Emma promised, brushing her fingers over Killian’s arm while he stirred. “And you’re beating this batter into submission.” “It’s got to mix.” “What’d you like the most? Peach, that’s bright and kind of summer’y, right? Oh, did you do something with chicken? I bet you did.” She tried to pull the bowl out of his hands, but the agreement was no cooking under any circumstances and Killian was nothing if not very stubborn. Particularly when it came to Emma. “Baked,” he said, kissing her quick enough that her breath hitched. “Baked chicken. With basil. The judges called it, and I’m quoting here, unexpected.”

“I wouldn’t have expected that.” “Unfortunately you are not a judge on Iron Chef, love.”

Emma hummed, tugging lightly on the front of his apron. He nearly dropped the bowl. She took that was a victory. “That’d probably be a conflict of interest, right?” she asked, and there was quite a bit more to finagle, which was another absolutely awful word Emma wished had never entered her mind, but the bowl sounded impossibly loud when it landed on the counter and she swore she could feel Killian’s fingers through her dress.

“Scandalous.” “That sounds kind of dramatic.” “Yeah, let’s avoid the drama if we can, huh?” She nodded or agreed or maybe just melted because it was suddenly very warm in that kitchen and her back felt like it was kind of snapping in half and she might have been swooning over the sight of her husband doing his job.

And Emma was positive, convinced in the very center of her being, that they were about to stress Eric out even more by making out in the middle of the kitchen they equally owned, but Killian’s lips just brushed over hers and he chuckled when she made a noise that was nothing short of scandalous.

“Why’d you get a cab uptown, Swan?” he asked, eyes narrowed and confident and both of those things were as stupid as they were attractive.

“I just wanted to double check on some numbers.” “Are you worried about the show?” “Why are you a mind reader?”

He chuckled, and he did kiss her that time, but it was over before it really began which, honestly, was for the best, but Emma was absurdly pregnant and, suddenly, sort of nauseous and her husband was being an enormous, slightly psychic tease.

“I’m not,” Killian promised. “But I will admit to knowing you fairly well, love, and your show is important to you. That’s not a bad thing.” “Ruby thinks it’ll be fine.” “And called in Mary Margaret to back her up.” “God, seriously, the mind reading thing!” “It’s a very gossipy restaurant, Swan.” Emma’s jaw dropped, air rushing out of her quickly enough that she actually managed to ruffle Killian’s hair. “Did she tell you that this was some kind of plan? Did everyone know? Is that why Regina was spying out her office window?” “No one was spying out any windows,” Killian argued. “Regina was patrolling the Iron Chef set so I didn’t run away before I won.” “Awfully confident.” He nodded, fingers tracing absent minded patterns on the side of her stomach – enough that it almost calmed whatever was happening in the pit of it and maybe it was actually heartburn. That happened when she was pregnant with Henry.

That was normal.

Emma thought it was normal.

“Swan,” Killian muttered, a note of near-panic in his voice, and her neck cracked when she snapped her head up. “Your eyes went all glossy, love. You want to sit down?” “I think you want me to sit down.” “Yes.” “Jeez, no one will banter with me today,” she groused. It was enough to work a slightly shaky laugh out of Killian, lips brushing over her forehead and the top of her hair and the curve of her jaw and David practically growled when he swung open the kitchen door. “If you don’t want to walk in on things, you shouldn’t be in places you’re not allowed to be,” Emma said. “And don’t bother telling me my sentence structure was off. I know. And I know you understood.” David nodded, lower lip jutted out in a move that was just patronizing enough to fall into older brother category. “At least it wasn’t Henry again.” “To be fair, I don’t think he’ll come into any room without announcing his presence anymore,” Killian said. “Loudly. Several times.” Emma groaned, letting her head fall onto Killian’s shoulder. “What do you want, David?” she asked, the question barely audible when it was, mostly, spoken into cotton.

“There are people here. For the party you guys agreed to. With food because Mary Margaret didn’t listen to you so she made those cookies you’ve been demanding for weeks. And also Regina wants to know where Killian disappeared to because, this is verbatim, he ran away before we could figure out the vacation plans.”

Emma’s neck was going to sustain permanent damage.

And Killian was going to glare David to death. Or something that made more sense. The English language was, clearly, something Emma didn’t entirely understand anymore.

“What does that mean?” she asked, but Killian seemed far more interested in the waffle batter and Eric was trying to ask about how hot the oil should be for empanadas. “Oh my God, Eric, we planned all of this. Three-hundred and fifty degrees. It was all on the list.” He mumbled a string of words that might have been an apology.

Killian didn’t move.

David looked a little stunned.

“Has everyone in this restaurant been making plans without me?” Emma asked, pointing at her stomach like that proved how involved she should have been. “I am pregnant. Not incompetent.” “No one said that, Swan,” Killian muttered. David now looked a little terrified.

“That’s not how it sounded.” Killian sighed, glancing at Eric and shouting a string of instructions they’d discussed in detail a week before. “C’mon, love,” he said, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and directing her back towards the short hallway between the kitchen and dining room.

Emma counted to ten, and then added five more just for good measure, waiting for David to retreat back to Mary Margaret and the cookies she really did want, before lifting her gaze to Killian. He blinked.

“It was not an active attempt to keep you out of the loop, Swan.” “Then what was it? You’re going on vacation?”

“Leave, technically. From filming. At least for a few months.”

Emma blinked. And blinked again. And Killian blinked. And blinked again.

They both kept blinking and staring and she was a mess of hunger and hormones and the laughter lingering in the back corner of her mind because this was her life and they were going to have a kid and keep making out in front of their other kid and, really, there was no other choice except to push up on her slightly wobbly legs and press her lips to Killian’s.

He didn’t flinch, didn’t stumble, barely even took a deep breath – he just reacted. And there were probably several different reasons behind that, one of which might have been the psychic ability he’d apparently picked up at some point, but most of it was likely just because he loved her right back and wanted right back and didn’t want to miss a single damn thing.

“Swan, are you crying?” Killian asked, voice just a bit breathless and if she weren’t, in fact, crying, that would have done some seriously good things to Emma’s ego.

“No,” she lied. “I am pregnant with your kid. I get to do whatever I want while I’m making out with you. Those are the rules.” “Those are the rules?” “Yes.” “When were these rules decided on?” “Probably at a meeting I wasn’t invited to.”

He clicked his tongue, another quick kiss and his fingers were absurd, dancing over her side and across her skin and pushing into her hair until he’d cupped the back of her head and pulled her away from the wall. “That’s not what happened, love,” he whispered. “But Lucas knew you were worried about the show and the numbers and Mary Margaret did too. I don’t think any of them were expecting you to take matters into your own hand and storm the offices this afternoon.” “Ok, there was no storming.” “No? Gina said you looked rather determined.” “Determined is way different from storming,” Emma said. It was getting more and more difficult to think when Killian’s fingers kept moving. There was a game playing in the background. “You’re really not going to film for a couple of months?” Killian shrugged, eyes falling to his feet. “I was going to talk to you about it first. I just wanted to ask Gina what the schedule looked like, but uh...it’s just a thought.” “A good one.” “Yeah?” “Yeah,” Emma echoed, slinging both her arms around Killian’s neck until every extra inch of her touched every single inch of him. “That’s absurdly, sweepingly romantic.”

“I don’t...I want to be there, Swan. For all of it. And I’ll still cook here, but it’ll be a little less hectic if I’m not filming all summer as well and rumor had it Zelena wanted to do some kind of special thing with all the Iron Chefs and we should probably be thinking about college, but--” “--If you’re thinking about college already, then you’re way ahead of where I’m at. I’m still trying to decide what to name it.” “It?” Emma groaned, head lolling back and not hitting the wall because Killian’s hand was still there and still vaguely overprotective and her back really was starting to hurt a lot. Like. A lot. “We probably should have figured out if it was a boy or a girl,” she mumbled. “I’m kind of regretting it. They should have a name.” “Presumably he or she will have a name eventually. I can’t imagine we’d be so irresponsible not name our own kid.” He’d absolutely done it for the laugh he worked out of her, Emma’s smile settling on her face with practiced ease. “Henry’d pick if we didn’t.” “You bring up a very good point, Swan.” “You guys really weren’t plotting plans without me?” “No, love,” Killian promised. “No plotting. Unless you count Henry trying to organize the watching schedule for the entire tournament.” “I wasn’t, actually.” “Then none to be had.” His right hand fell back to her waist, thumb brushing over her side and the quiet laugh he let out when the hopefully-named-pumpkin kicked in response was enough to leave Emma wiping away more tears. “You’ve got to stop crying though, Swan,” Killian muttered. “You’re making me nervous.”

“This has absolutely nothing to do with you.” “Eh, some of it had to do with me.” “Oh my God.” “I love you,” he said, and he’d said it enough times in the last few years that it had almost become second-nature to hear it. The words mumbled in her ear and her hair and, more recently, reverently against the curve of her stomach, tucked against each other in the middle of their bed in the apartment they were, eventually, going to have to move out of, tiny pinpricks of light dotting his face and making his hair look even darker than it was.

And despite all of that, the promises and the certainty and the plans that they’d come up with, eight letters in that very specific order still made Emma’s pulse sputter and butterflies erupt in the pit of her stomach and she had in a way she’d never believed she ever could.

She was ridiculously happy.

“I love you too,” she whispered, tracing the tips of her fingers over the stubble on Killian’s cheek. “Just like an absurd amount.”

“Bodes well for the future.” “Yeah, I thought so.”

“Tell Regina you’re not going to film that stupid special.” “You want me to use those exact words?” Killian asked. He arched an eyebrow when he leaned back, ignoring the loud clomping of footsteps that could only be a slightly disgruntled and likely very hungry sixteen year old who didn’t want to walk in on anything again.

Emma nodded. “If you don’t use the word stupid to describe that special then I’m going to be really disappointed. And as a reminder, still pregnant with your kid.” He kissed her.

And Henry saw. “Oh my God,” he yelled, but Emma felt Killian’s smile against her own and at some point Henry had also started running his hand through his hair. “I pretty much jumped down the hallway so you knew I was here.” “That’s suggesting it was going to make a difference,” Killian said. Henry’s whole body sagged with the force of his groan.

“Did Uncle David send you back here?” Emma asked, but Henry shook his head before the question was entirely out of her mouth. “Robin?” Another head shake. “Eric via telepathy?”

“Will,” he answered before they could circle back to Regina or another Ruby-planned intervention. “Mostly so we can toast the start of the party and the arrival of the kid that is definitely a boy and we all want to eat.” “You want to eat.” “Yeah.” Emma laughed. “We all know these games aren’t actually live, right? We’re all keeping that perspective.” “Crystal clear,” Henry nodded. “Can we eat the empanadas now?” “I’ve still got to finish that waffle batter,” Killian said. “And whatever we came up with for Poland.”

“Perogies. That was the most obvious one.” “C’mon, Killian,” Emma teased, pulling on his apron again and Henry gagged. “You’ve got to tone down the teenage angst, kid. Or I’m going to eat all your perogies.” He stopped groaning immediately. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. Alright, we’ll toast so Will stops whining as well and then we eat some empanadas and tour the world while you explain offsides to me again.” “It’s really not that hard, Mom.” “Try me.”

“Deal.” Henry, to his credit, did an admirable job of trying to explain offsides, but eventually lost interest when someone who was super famous, Mom, seriously ask Killian about him did something super crazy just outside the box and Emma, at least, knew what the goddamn box was.

There was more yelling and jumping and Leo Henry Nolan tried to climb on top of a table at one point to join in the fray – which sent several parent-type figures into several different spirals of emotion and Regina was the first one to wrap an arm around his waist, tugging him down before he could do any lasting damage to any of his limbs. And Emma ate far more perogies than she probably should have, something that felt like a fourteen-pound weight sitting in the pit of her stomach by the time Portugal beat Spain by several goals.

“Try and get some sleep,” David muttered, hours and far too many empanadas later and Emma’s beamed when she noticed the Tupperware container in her brother’s hand. “The circle of life,” he added. “Or something. And a very stubborn Iron Chef.” “Yeah, he gets that way,” she whispered. Henry was, after all, asleep next to her, his head on her shoulder and legs twisted up underneath him in a way that reminded of her of just how far they’d come.

So she was clearly on some kind of absurd sentimental roll.

And she’d eaten so many goddamn perogies.

“You pick a name for your kid yet?” David asked, grinning when Emma rolled her eyes and he barely fit on the edge of the chair, her feet propped up in front of her.

“No, you have any idea where your kid is?” “Yeah, asking that aforementioned incredibly stubborn Iron Chef to give him more cake because he really enjoyed the cake and Mary Margaret is getting the recipe written down.”

“Oh, you can’t just say shit like that, I’m hormonal.”

David’s grin got wider. “Henry thinks it’s a boy.” “So I’ve heard.” “He’s probably going to want to name him after Ronaldo.” “That’s his name,” Emma hissed, Henry mumbling when her voice got too loud. She muttered a quick apology, pressing a kiss to her kid’s head and her other kid tried to make its presence known by possibly killing her with heartburn. “I could not for the life of me remember that guy’s name. He’s got the crazy kick.” “He’s the best soccer player in the world, Em.” “That’s fundamentally untrue,” Robin added, appearing out of seemingly nowhere and maybe the restaurant wasn’t as empty as Emma thought it was.

“Who are you picking then?” Emma asked. She rolled her shoulders when she felt another twinge in her back, brushing off David’s lowered eyebrows.

“If I tell you David Beckham are you going to call me a homer?” “That would suggest I know what any of those words mean.” “Then, yes, David Beckham. But please don’t tell Killian that.” Emma nodded, eyelashes fluttering and she hadn’t been sleeping all that well, but it definitely had something to do with all that unwieldy and extra and she wondered if she could get Killian to just let them go upstairs and, like, sleep on the floor or something.

That absolutely would not work.

“Christian Jones,” David said, pulling Emma’s attention back and they were talking about names. Names based on reportedly famous soccer players. Names based on reportedly famous soccer players while her husband hand-wrote recipes and sent her family off with leftovers.

And, really, she should have known something was going to happen at that point.

She had, after all, done this before, but none of this was the same as it was before and Emma was comfortable and Henry was asleep and Killian came up with that cake recipe on a Saturday afternoon when it had snowed a foot and a half and the city shut down and they hadn’t left the apartment all day.

Emma came up with the ganache frosting.

She gasped when her water broke.

“Killian,” she yelled, Henry jumping up with wide eyes and mouth hanging open. The kitchen door left a dent in the wall when it slammed open, but Emma barely had time to think about that or the cost of fixing that before Killian was crouching in front of her.

“Swan,” he breathed, resting a hand on her knee, and, really laughing was not the best response, but he sounded so stunned and this was way too early and it so figured. “We should probably call a car. And maybe the doctor.”

#cs ff #captain swan #captain swan ff #captain swan fic #cs fic #that keep kissing picture is like the visual definition of emma and killian's entire relationship #if i ever write a fic where emma and killian aren't stupid into each other #assume i have died

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pbjpuppy · 6 years

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do every oc question but with horsepower PLEASE

DUDE I WAS SO HOPING SOMEONE WOULD ASK ABT HER IM SO EXCITED

THIS IS SO LONG SO I’M PUTTING A READMORE

1. Do they sleep with a stuffed animal? If they have multiple, who’s the favorite?

SHE does Not surprisingly!! BUT similarly to Giovanni with his kids, Serene is always sleeping next to her bc she’s Warm and Soft so it’s like, kinda the same thing

She IS the type to love sleeping with a ton of pillows though

2. Can they take care of a plant? What about a pet? What about a child?

Horsie doesn’t have the world’s greenest thumb but she could probably keep a houseplant alive!! She likes nature a lot she’s just not stellar at gardening

She would be REALLY GOOD with a pet though that animal would THRIVE and she’d be the type to take like 400 pictures of her pet and spam everyone with them like “Look at this Fucking Angel”

And she’s DEFINITELY GOOD W KIDS seeing as she’s basically raising Serene!! Serene can testify that she’s the Best babysitter (even if she accidentially taught Serene like. 20 separate curse words gdgjdsk)

3. Ask them to describe their love interest.

OOH FUN DIALOGUE

“Um, she’s.. REALLY pretty. Like, really fuckin’ pretty. I think she made me like, 17% more lesbian the first time I saw her. And like, we’ve known each other for a long time and we know each other’s secrets n’ stuff… ahahah, that came out really weird! I just mean we’re good friends, y’know? Hah. Anyway, she’s a bad bitch, I’d die for her. Love her.”

Her love interest is actually a character named Destiny who I havent drawn yet!!

4. Do they look good in red?

I think she could pull it off bc red is in her color scheme but also like.. there’s already so much warm colors!! I think she looks the best in gray or black tbh (like imagine her in a black suit or something she’d look SNAZZY)

5. Speech! Speech! Speech! Speech! Will they give one, and what about?

“HHuuh WHAT AM I S’POSED TO TALK ABOUT? Fuck. Uh. Respect lesbians.” Mic drop

6. Who will they take advice from, no matter what it is? Who won’t they take advice from, no matter what it is?

She’ll ALWAYS take advice from her friends, especially Destiny, bc she trusts them to know when she’s being too hot-headed or rash- There’s a character in her friend group who hasn’t got a name yet but he’s REALLY good at giving advice!!

She will NEVER take advice from her old rival Lockjaw, and she shouldn’t- he’s always out to sabotage her somehow and plays dirty a lot of the time, and he’s known to be a huge liar (Plus they just hate each other)

7. Describe them in three words. Now let them describe themself in three words.

My three words: Fiery, protective, loving!!

Her three words: “Uh.. Gay. Handsome. Wait, scratch that. Gay, HOT, optimist.”

8. Do complex puzzles intrigue or frustrate them?

She WANTS to be intrigued but she just gets frustrated and crumples up the paper after a few minutes if it’s not a super easy riddle sjhsjf she knows by now that it’s just Not Worth It

9. Do they empathize with non-sentient things (dolls, plants, books…)?

She only usually does with like people (or I guess furry)-shaped objects like stuffed animals and dolls, and even then not to an extreme degree- it’s really Serene who has the EXTREME empathy and empathizes with everything!!

10. What age do they most want to be right now?

THIS IS SUCH AN INTERESTING QUESTION she misses being a kid like Serene is a lot, but she’s pretty happy where she is- she’s in a better place than she has been for a long time at the current point of her story! If anything, she wishes she could go back and tell her middle/high school self that things are gonna be okay

11. They’ve won the lottery. Spend, or save?

She’d SAY she’s gonna save it and REALLY try but she wouldn’t be able to resist splurging on some really cool stuff bc COME ON she won the LOTTERY!! She’d also wanna buy gifts for the Monster family because she wants to thank them for how generous they’ve been to her so it’s really very wholesome

12. Do they like romance in the books they read (or in the book they’re in)?

She doesn’t READ that’s for NERDS

JUST KIDDIN but nah she’s not really one for “mushy stuff” and prefers action/adventure stories!! She’s also a fan of mysteries and anything that’s not Painfully Heterosexual

13. Name one thing their parents taught them.

Her parents weren’t the best, but they did teach her very good manners- she did go through a BIG rebel phase where she definitely was Not as polite, but overall her politeness and natural charisma really help her out in social situations (especially when she has to get favors from people and stuff)

14. Would they agree with the term ‘guilty pleasure’? Do they have any?

I think she’d agree with the term in a general sense!! I’m not sure exactly what guilty pleasures she has, probably just the fact that she can be kind of a thrill-seeker and take unnecessary risks- not involving Serene though ofc

15. What would they consider a waste of time– other than school or work?

The first thing that came to mind is that she considers arguing with people you KNOW aren’t gonna change their mind to be a waste of time- Especially when it comes to social justice type issues she knows not to waste her energy on people who just won’t listen (but she’s argumentative by nature and usually ends up doing it against her better judgement)

16. If money wasn’t a limit, what would they wear?

LEATHER JACKETS AND COOL BOOTS AND SUCH!! She’d also wanna buy a bunch of cool pins to put on said jacket (And she’d probably have to get it tailored bc of her wings too which would also be money..) She would also probably get some kind of cool patterned horseshoes!!

17. Do they like children?

Yes she DOES and Serene is her favorite (Even though she calls her a booger)

19. Do they study before tests? Practice before job interviews?

NOPE she usually dives into most things headfirst, which can be VERY UNWISE but she feels like it keeps her brain clear to not stress about stuff beforehand

20. What do they like that nobody else does?

HMM… I don’t really have an answer for this one tbh!! I’ve been thinking about it for a bit, the only thing that I can think of is that she likes waking up REALLY early and the smell of smoke, but lots of people also like those things

21. What would it take for them to break up with someone? What would be the last straw?

She’s actually really bad at getting out of situations like that, like if she’s in a relationship she’s not happy in she’s bad at getting herself out of it- but probably something that really make her realize she needs to get outta there would be if the other person seriously hurt her on purpose

22. Do they like being called pet names? Do they call other people pet names? What’s their go-to?

She LOVES pet names and calls EVERYONE pet names (unless they’re not comfortable ofc)!! Nicknames are kinda hard to make from “Horsepower” so a lot of the time she’s given weird affectionate pet names instead, it’s somthing that she’s kinda known for

DEFINITELY her go-to pet name is “babe”, she calls almost everyone that and I like to imagine that it’s very soothing bc she has a lovely deep voice.. other go-to pet names are baby, hon and love!! She has a lot of personal nicknames/pet names for individual people though

Tbh she only really refers to someone as their full name if she doesn’t know them or if she’s mad at them shfshf

23. Stability or novelty?

Novelty!! Stability is important to her but she gets bored and anxious if she’s stuck in the same routine for too long, that’s why she likes taking care of Serene bc Serene is ALWAYS doing new things

24. Honesty or charity?

Ooh that’s difficult… Once again both are important values to her, but I’m gonna go with honesty- she’s a very (bluntly) honest person

25. Safety or possibility?

Possibility!! As established before she’s kinda a daredevil she doesn't care about SAFETY (unless it’s anyone else but her doing it then she’s gonna lecture them)

26. Talent or effort?

Effort!! She is EXTREMELY passionate and such an overachiever about everything shkfskh it’s like Hey Horsepower Can You Do This Simple Task For Me and she’s like Oh You Wanted Me To Change The World? I’ll Do That

27. Forgiveness or vengeance (or…)?

Definitely vengeance she holds grudges REALLY BAD and as kind as she tries to be if someone who hurt her or her friends gets hurt… she can’t help being satisfied

30. What would they do if they knew it would be forgiven?

OH THATS A HEAVY QUESTION since she holds grudges so bad she’s probably try to get revenge on Lockjaw for all the grief he’s caused her over the years, if she knew she’d be off the hook she’d get really nasty about it bc her anger at him has just been Boiling for years

WOW THAT TOOK A WHILE BUT IT WAS SO EXTREMELY FUN THANK U SO MUCH FOR ASKING!!! I’ll do the other one tomorrow bc I need to go to BED

Also I did cut out a few questions!! I either didn’t wanna answer them or I had answered them before

#chitchat #furbrain #Horsepower

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cockvengers · 7 years

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Final Great Comet Notes (2/2)

So as I mentioned in Part 1, I was fortunate enough see Comet on September 2nd (matinee) and September 3rd (closing) with a friend. In Part 1 I covered mostly the 9/2 matinee but there may be a few leftover notes interspersed.

September 3rd:

So first we actually went to the stage door to drop off some candy before the show. We went the day before with baked goods from a local bakery and gave them to Alex Gibson who was super nice.

I usually don’t do pre-show stage door because I don’t necessarily want to interact with people on my way to work but since they prefer you don’t bring food food into the theatre it is what it is.

Lauren was signing things for fans when we got there and since I hadn’t had the chance to give her the drawing I got to do that and she signed my book which was really generous.

One fan had a rose for each cast member that came by and idk if they’ll see this but I thought it was a very classy move.

Moving on, we headed back around to go in only to be stopped by the massive line around the block that would eventually lead into The Imperial

We were in line behind some ladies in their mid-sixties who were complaining about the show closing. It was something I heard a lot of whispers between fans about. Obviously we’re all upset. I could write essays on my feelings about the whys and hows and the disappointment but no one wants to hear it. It led to such a negative atmosphere on what I had hoped would be a going away party of sorts (ala The Abduction)

Luckily we went separate ways once in the theatre and the atmosphere was much improved.

Unlike our stage seats last time we were in the front of the rear mezz (2C) along the aisle closest to the center. It was a few rows forward from where I had seen Comet the first time and I’m fond of that area for that reason.

We had another friend (and their friend) in Row C of the front mezz and said hi to them before the start of the show

When Rachel and Sam came in and sat on the stage there was much applause. We actually missed it them sitting down because we were prepping our drinks

We saw Scott and Celia in the doorway to the mezz before the start of the show and I gave Celia her drawing since I hadn’t been fast enough to yesterday and I know that during normal show days she often leaves early if she’s not on

Andrew gave out dumplings. My friend got one and was kind enough to share with me.

After the warnings it was time for Dave to come out. That was a standing ovation that lasted maybe a minute.

Natasha chases Andrei and there is applause for her entrance.

The Prologue starts and at this point I feel sorry for anyone who hadn’t seen the show. That includes a person behind us. Hopefully you got something out of the show because I’m pretty sure there was no way to figure out who’s who over the applause.

Natasha is Young... *LOUD APPLAUSE*

Sonya is Good... *Applause* The audience hadn’t decided if we planned to applause for everyone at that point so Brittain didn’t get as much applause. We made up for it when she sand Sonya Alone.

After that we had figured it out and we continued to applause for every character

At that point we already could feel the energy in the room. Things were electric.

Brad walked by at some point and sung “everyone has nine different names” and I held up 9 fingers and he nodded.

Literally if there was a spot at the end of a song to applause we were there. By the end of Pierre I already felt like my hands would fall off.

During most of the songs in the first act I really tried to take in the costumes and movement because it would be my last chance.

During Private and Intimate Life Blaine starts to sing in his old man voice and the girl sitting in the banquettes across the aisle from Bolkonsky waved and he flirted and waved back.

He also was all over the woman he picked to be the “Cheap French Thing”. At least from our angle he looked like he was halfway on top of her.

During No One Else the guy sitting near Denée nodded at her during “We were angels once. Don’t you remember.”

Was there applause and a standing ovation at the end of No One Else? You know there was.

During The Opera Dolokhov just kind of lets Helene go to Natasha with a shrug like “Kuragins gotta hit on pretty girls” kind of a shrug. He’s used to it.

I always love the black cloaks and candles part of the opera. The whole thing makes no sense

The Duel is always exciting to me because the lights hide some naughtiness. I believe Katrina was dry humped by Cathryn. There were definitely piggyback rides happening on the stage.

Also, I had never realized that Brad wears the same outfit as Sumayya and Cathryn and a few others and tthose shorts... that’s some equality right there.

Also during the Duel Paul did the Denisov lisp that Dave mentions in the book (and I think on the genius) that they had tried but people found distracting. It was subtle until the end.

So, Dust and Ashes got the LONGEST standing ovation during the show. Two minutes by my estimate.

Did Charming get applause? Was the entire audience in love with Amber Gray? You know we did and we are.

I love the Ball. I get distracted watching the ensemble dance.

I loved watching Helene’s glee at when her plan to throw her brother and Natasha together came to fruition.

The Natasha and Anatole kiss was wow. Normally Natasha leans into it but today Denée really took over the kiss.

Act II. Begin Letters. Who do we spot coming to the rear mezz but Kennedy and Celia. We later learned at stage door that stage management approved them to come out and do the second half of the show as additional tracks so they covered the rear mezz during letters. It was outstanding.

The woman who gave Natasha The Letter was there for it. I have never seen someone get on the stage so fast.

Just says “yeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeesssssssssssssssssss” was longer than normal

As I said Sonya Alone got major applause. What I forgot to mention was something I noticed during the day before. As Sonya marches off the stage while Dolokhov starts Preparations she is pissed as hell at him.

“Was ruining this family once not enough for you?” her look conveys.

Glad to hear Nick Choksi’s “NO” off mic again when Lucas explaining the argument for the hundredth time.

Balaga. Who got shakers? You know our row did. It was my first time getting a shaker and I was so excited when Brittain handed me the basket.

Our friend in front mezz row C said she had a good feeling about getting shakers and she was right as we all got shakers that night.

Did we singing along? Of course. The entire audience did.

Balaga and the Abduction were a non-stop party. Brittain held my shoulder and comforted a girl across from me who was crying as the ‘Goodbye my g*psy lovers’ portion began.

Anatole’s WOAHHHHHOOOOAHHHHHhhhhHHHHHhhhhHHHH was longer as expected for the final show. Lucas held all his really great notes for as long as possible.

Sometime around here you could hear Lucas trying to hold it together.

When Pierre did his WOAHHH. The audience did a standing ovation. The cast was sweaty as usual. Nick Gaswirth was on the floor in front of the mezz stage door panting. Everyone went all out.

Dave had to motion for us to stop twice before we actually did.

The song continued as usual. As you know the triangle strike was a miss. He hit it in the end.

Also a note from the day before actually being able to see Natasha pour the arsenic into the drink was helpful. The first time I didn’t see that and I thought when she poisoned herself with a “bit” of arsenic it was just a ton of arsenic in the whole glass.

The Petersburg Note was long as expected.

I really liked Blaine’s emphasis on “If you want to be MY FRIEND, Never speak of that AGAIN.”

Natasha and Pierre is wear things started to get awkward. I don’t really cry much over these very emotional things (luckily my friend doesn’t either) so while the audience was sobbing (some of you sobbed loudly) I kind of kept glancing at her for reassurance I wasn’t alone.

The last two songs of Comet are always so hopeful in message despite the melancholy tone and even during it’s closing their beauty fills me with such joy.

Denée was folded over and crying and it took her a little bit to recover. Then you could hear it in Dave’s voice that he was crying. Amber and Grace were both wiping their eyes from the tables.

There was so much love in that theatre at the end.

During bows Paul came out beardless and many I spoke to at stage door commented that they almost thought the beard might not have been real and that Paul was just so committed by doing stage door with it before logic won them over.

Bradley King runs down from the front mezz to make it to the stage.

Or Matias, Rachel Chavkkin, Sam Pinkleton, Badley King, Paloma Young, Mimi Lien, and Nicholas Pope all came on stage for Rachel’s short speech.

Erica Dorfler dame up as well and I saw Paloma Garcia Lee at the stage door at one point but I don’t think I saw her on stage.

Josh was there as well in the banquettes but he kept a low profile and I feel like that was probably the right move given how much hype his appearance would have caused during the show as a whole’s moment.

I was one of the first five or so people out the door from rear mezz and even the people from orchestra were just coming out. Normally that would have put me front row for stage door but today the first row was already full which was a little tragic.

While we were waiting for everyone to come out Sam Pinketon, Paloma Young, and a few others threw shakers at us. I caught one in the opposite color scheme from the one I had gotten from the basket. I was very excited.

Everyone was so kind at stage door. Most everyone who came out signed things. Or Matias, Nicholas Pope, and Paloma Garcia Lee did not but everyone else who is or was involved in the broadway run did.

People had been asking if Josh Groban would sign and they initially said no. Josh’s car was already waiting and everything but he went down the whole line and signed and took photos, etc. which was very nice of him.

I enjoyed talking to everyone and I was able to give out most of the drawings. I only had Brandt, Denée, and Amber left at the end of the night.

Since our friend in the front mezz talks with Nick Choksi every time she sees the show he stopped to talk for a minute or two longer than normal given the line size and I got to ask a very important question about his serving plate spinning while shot pouring skills. He said he came up with it at Ars Nova and asked for something that spins so he could use it to pour the shots. It seems like an important life skill we should all learn

That’s all I got right now (aside from a brilliant side story of what happened in the theatre while we were at stage door but that’s not mine to tell) but I’m sure I’ll think of more and maybe I’ll make a post for that later.

#audience reviews #Natasha Pierre and the Great Comet of 1812 #The Great Comet of 1812

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faucetdouble51-blog · 5 years

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72 Hours in Seattle

Hi, it’s Abby. My mom asked me to write an introduction for this post about our last-minute trip to Seattle a few weeks ago. I was invited to play in a soccer tournament there and this one was different than most because there was only one game a day, which means there was plenty of down time to explore a city. (That is how I convinced my mom to go.) We flew out the morning after my last final and stayed with her college roommate, Jenn for three nights and three days. Mom already told you that the culinary highlight of our trip was eating a Dutch Baby with backyard raspberries in Jenn’s kitchen nook, but that doesn’t mean we didn’t pound some pavement in search of great food around town. Here, Mom and I take turns giving you a run-down of our packed 72 hours.

DAY 1: THURSDAY

1:00 [Jenny] I am forever in search of counter-service spots when I travel, especially for lunch, when you don’t want to spend an hour-plus lounging around while the sun shines on a brand new city that is calling for you. That’s why we dropped our bags at my friend Jenn’s house (in Ballard) at 12:45, then headed straight to The Fat Hen, a sweet, bright fast-casual spot that served avocado toasts, ricotta toasts, freshly squeezed juices, and good coffee. It killed us to forgo Frankie & Jo’s, the vegan ice cream shop sensation right across the street (they have multiple locations around the city) but we were saving room for dinner. FYI: Delancey — remember Delancey? — was right there, too. [Photo credit: Seattle Magazine]

2:30 [Abby] We walked from Fat Hen down 15th Street to Ballard Avenue, the main drag in Ballard, a neighborhood that reminded me of Brooklyn. There was a ton of stuff to do and a lot of fun shopping including a cool second-hand furniture store called Ballard Consignment, an aesthetically pleasing succulent store (I can’t remember the name, can someone help me?), and a trendy clothing place called Prism where my mom tried on a thousand dresses but ended up just buying my sister an iron-on patch for her jean jacket that said “Stay Wild Child.”

4:00 [Abby] We met up with my mom’s friend Jenn, who got out of work early for us, and headed to Golden Gardens Park for a walk. It was so beautiful! I got a virgin pina colada at Miri’s, a new cafe right on the beach. Also, even though everyone says Seattle weather is not so great, look at our sky! It was like that for most of the time we were there. (Here’s a tip to future travelers: Go there in late June, early July.)

5:30 [Jenny] I think the only reason why I agreed to take Abby to Seattle was so I could try to snag a table at The Walrus and the Carpenter, the original Renee Erickson French-style raw bar in Ballard that opened almost ten years ago and that I tried to get into during my last visit, only to be turned away by the long wait every time. This time I wasn’t messing around. At the very un-glamourous hour of 5:30, I dragged Abby, Jenn, and Jenn’s 15-year-old daughter Stella to dine on fried oysters and small plates in their bright happy space. FYI: Erickson has opened a bunch of other places in Capitol Hill, including a steakhouse Bateau, another oyster bar with the greatest electric mint color scheme (Bar Melusine), and stuffed doughnut mecca General Porpoise, which, for Abby, might’ve been more of a reason to go to Seattle than her soccer tournament. (More on that below.)

7:30 After dinner, we walked back up Ballard Avenue to get ice cream at Salt & Straw, the Portland-based makers who have won over legions of fans with their artisanal concoctions…think Fresh Sheep’s Cheese and Strawberries or Oregon Wasabi and Raspberry Sorbet. But the line was too long, and even though it was still early, we were on East Coast time, so we headed home to bed. (For those of you interested, here’s an interview with Salt & Straw founder Tyler Malek on the always awesome Bon Appetit’s Foodcast.)

DAY 2: FRIDAY

10:00 [Abby] I had a soccer game in Redmond (we won 4-0!) where the most exciting food moment of the morning was a pretzel that came with that fakey nacho cheese that is so delicious. We didn’t get to start exploring again until lunchtime and decided we wanted to spend the afternoon checking out Capitol Hill. First stop…

12:30…Rocket Taco for lunch, where we ate some of the best carnitas tacos I can remember.

1:45 It was Pride Month! We loved the rainbow crosswalks which made for especially good instagram posts. (That’s me with our friend Maylie. And this was at the intersection of East Pine and 10th Ave.)

2:30 [Abby] And of course, we had to hit Elliott Bay Books. My mom bought me a paperback copy of The Handmaid’s Tale — I’ve been watching the TV show and it’s very disturbing, but she said I’d like the book. (She wants me to tell you that for school I also had to read Hiroshima and Take the Cannoli)

3:01 [Abby] Then the funniest thing happened. I had been looking forward to going to the iconic General Porpoise Doughnuts from the moment we booked our flights — we practically planned our entire Capitol Hill outing around it — but when we got there at 3:01, we tried to open the door and it was locked. It closed at 3:00! For about ten seconds we were all super disappointed but then, out of nowhere, an employee walks outside and asked “Does anyone want a dozen free doughnuts?” I guess they like everything to be fresh, so at the end of the day, they give away what hasn’t sold instead of selling them the next day. That might’ve been the highlight of the trip. And those doughnuts were some of the best I’ve ever had– the vanilla stuffed ones especially!!

4:00 [Jenny] We hadn’t planned on it, but we decided to hit Pike Place Market (because: of course!) on our way home to Ballard from Capitol Hill. We bought fruit and a lovely flower arrangement for our lovely hosts, but for the most part we just walked up and down the long hallways and gaped at the offerings. Maybe the most amazing part was that I got a parking spot on Pike Place right in the middle of everything (across from the flagship Starbucks.) I kept looking at the spot and looking at the sign saying This is too good to be true (once a New Yorker always a New Yorker, I guess) but it was actually true. Over a month later, I’m still on a high from it.

6:30 [Jenny] I know this is hard to believe, but we still had more to eat. I’ve written about this before, but the way Abby and I go about planning where we want to eat in a new city is completely different. I go to tried-and-true sources like Bon Appetit City Guides or Eater’s Heat Maps. She goes right to instagram, searches by locations, then studies the grid until a particularly inspiring pastry or bowl of ramen shows up. That is how she landed on Fremont Bowl where we went with Jenn’s family. Abby’s review: “Crazy good Japanese bowls, with fish, chicken teriyaki, and so much more. I’m not really a tofu fan, but according to my mom she had the best tofu she’d ever had in her life at this place. Fremont’s a fun area to walk around, too.” She’s totally right, the fried house-made tofu that our friend Maylie ordered was off-the-hook delicious. I was psyched because right next door was Book Larder, a store that specializes in cookbooks and community culinary events, but sadly they were closed for a private event. I guess that’s as good an excuse as any to return to Seattle in the very near future.

DAY 3: SATURDAY 9:00 [Abby] Mom, Jenn, and Jenn’s husband, Ben went for an early run around Green Lake Park (about a 3-mile loop she says) then we all gorged on Jenn’s now legendary Dutch Babies and plotted the day. Ben pointed us in the direction of the giant Asian Market Uwajimaya which was awesome (Oh, before that, Mom stopped for another cup of coffee at Anchored Ship in Ballard) but we ended up eating around the corner at at Dough Zone due to some intense soup dumpling cravings, aka the best food in the world. It’s a good thing my next soccer game wasn’t until 4:00 that afternoon. We pretty much rolled out of there. Those dumplings were amazing.

6:00 [Abby] After my soccer game (lost 2-1) we drove to Mulkiteo and caught a ferry to Whidbey Island, about 25 miles north of Seattle across the Puget Sound, where Jenn and Ben have the sweetest cabin. The ferry was only about 25 minutes, but involved spectacular views of islands and huge mountains in the distance.

7:30 We only had about 12 hours to hang on Whidbey, but we got a good taste of it, snacking on their porch (above), chilling out by the campfire for an epic sunset; Ben grilled some local salmon and hot dogs for dinner. The house only had two bedrooms so my mom and I got to sleep in a tent listening to the crackling campfire.

. Side Note [Jenny] Those of you who follow me on instagram might remember this photo. Jenn and Ben were torturing themselves trying to decide what color to paint the cabin — they were going for a dark Scandinavian cottage look — so I conducted an insta poll asking which combo you all liked. Most of you were in favor of the navy/white palette, the third one down. Last week, she sent me this pic:

How beautiful is that?!?!?! They went with Sherwin Williams Inkwell for the house and Benjamin Moore Oxford White for the trim.

DAY 4 SUNDAY

8:30 [Abby] We had an early afternoon plane to catch, so didn’t have a ton of time to explore, but we did manage to squeeze in a walk on the beach and a quick trip to Langley, where we ate eggs and cinnamon rolls at Useless Bay Coffee, then took a walk to a dramatic sandbar called Seawall Park. The town was so charming! From there was a convenient shuttle from Whidbey to the Seattle Airport, and we were on our way home.

Boy you fed us well, Seattle. We miss you so much!

Related: 36 Hours in Austin; 36 Hours in Portland, Maine; 48 Hours in Montreal.

Source: http://www.dinneralovestory.com/72-hours-in-seattle/

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coffeelevel8-blog · 5 years

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72 Hours in Seattle

DAY 1: THURSDAY

DAY 2: FRIDAY

12:30…Rocket Taco for lunch, where we ate some of the best carnitas tacos I can remember.

How beautiful is that?!?!?! They went with Sherwin Williams Inkwell for the house and Benjamin Moore Oxford White for the trim.

DAY 4 SUNDAY

Boy you fed us well, Seattle. We miss you so much!

Related: 36 Hours in Austin; 36 Hours in Portland, Maine; 48 Hours in Montreal.

Source: http://www.dinneralovestory.com/72-hours-in-seattle/

#read more #see more #check it out #interesting #learn more

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junker-town · 6 years

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The dark, pie-charted heart of college football rivalries

Every rivalry has something that makes it burn hot.

Rivalry is often defined as “that moment when someone sees a stranger dressed in a team’s colors and, despite being down by three scores and on national television, still shoots both middle fingers at them and accidentally creates a Renaissance painting.”

Hang it in a museum pic.twitter.com/gGg2T77gv3

— Bunkie Perkins (@BunkiePerkins) October 23, 2017

No one really says this. They should, though. Every other definition of rivalry is just as bad as this one and leaves out the part about being eager to shoot middle fingers at each other for no reason other than the color of a shirt.

Even if there is a great definition, quantifying rivalries in college football gets squirrelly. They’re less constant standards of emotion, and more more like a currency. Currencies, I should say, because there are a ton of them, all in different states of repair or being, and all of them susceptible to circumstance, politics, and random acts of God.

For instance: Some are dead, which is why we really don’t talk about Georgia Tech/Alabama anymore. Some are in stasis or suspended animation, like Texas/Texas A&M. Some rivalries are alive but in a long, one-sided kind of rut. See: Alabama/Tennessee, still heated enough to merit double middle fingers, but right now leaning 11 games to zero for Alabama since 2007. The emotion and intensity of the game is still real, and the competition portion of the festivities is not.

Let’s check in on some rivalries. A few basic ground rules for inclusion here:

Rivalries are evaluated mostly on the last four or five years. No one on the roster was there before that. The coach probably wasn’t either. The student section was in high school, and so were the players, and there is a strong chance no one remembers anything that happened in the rivalry prior to four or five years ago. But that epic game in ‘68! Stop hipstering dead rivalries to life just because you read about them. Dormant does not count here. We need live, fiery contests with spite and consequences on the menu.

There are exceptions to this, like the Kick Six, which happened and was hilarious. My God, was it funny. If that happened to my team against a team I hate as much as Auburn, I would never stop being mad about it, especially because it is the kind of play that gets a name, and then joins the other plays with Proper Names, and then even young football players and children know their name, and repeat them even after being reminded of the other team’s recent dominance over their rival. Is this triggering? It should be triggering for you, Alabama, because that is the entire point of this.

The rivalry has to at least be competitive over the past few years. What does competitive mean, exactly? The games should be close. If they are not close, then teams should take at least turns giving and receiving blowouts. If neither of these happen, then it means whatever I want it to mean in order to count something as a rivalry for my own purposes here. If this displeases you, please make your own list, and then email me at celebrityhottub [at] gmail [dot] com to show me what you’ve made!

Rivalries should have some tusslin’ and hollerin’. In non-hilljack terms, some fighting, scrapping, some personal fouls, various football-related misconducts, brawls, resulting legislation following said incidents, bowl bans, international sanctions, and general extracurricular conflict. It all helps. For example: Alabama/Auburn is always at least a baseline rivalry, and sometimes it blooms into something where trees get poisoned, babies get named after key players in a moment, and in the most lasting moment of all, triumphantly mocking bumper stickers are made. That’s obviously a step up in intensity, and any ranking of rivalries should recognize that.

The games should matter in the larger scheme of things. Again, this can mean a lot of things. Does the rivalry often determine larger conference or national outcomes? Does one team consistently ruin their rival’s seasons? Or, most exotically, do both teams ruin each other’s lives every year, no matter who wins or loses, because the results of the game are repellent to one and irrelevant to the other? Are we talking about the Egg Bowl? We are definitely talking about the Egg Bowl.

You left one off! Yes, yes I did. Your favorite one, probably. I did it on purpose, because you bankrupted my family, took the family farm, stole my woman, and left my children to starve in a Topeka flophouse! This is my revenge for all that, and I’ve waited years for it.

A PIE-CHARTED INDEX OF SELECTED CURRENT RIVALRIES

REAL HEAT YOU GOTTA MEASURE IN KELVIN

Alabama/Auburn. Historically beyond credible, as it has both its own literally-metal-as-hell nickname (THE IRON BOWL), multiple games with their own nicknames, and a history so fraught the game was called off for a few decades.

Recency matters most here, though. Fortunately for it, the Iron Bowl’s immediate past has enough heat all by itself to merit inclusion in top-flight status. The 2013 34-28 Auburn victory with the Kick Six happened, but so did a raucous 55-44 shootout in 2014, and last year’s 26-14 upset of an undefeated Alabama in Jordan-Hare Stadium. There are two clankers in there where Alabama just went ahead and won outright, but rest assured: They are hateful, intensely felt clankers on both sides.

For extra spite, the Tigers celebrated last year’s win with an extremely giddy and sarcastic postgame playing of the Alabama stadium standard “Dixieland Delight.” Oh, someone got shot over the game in Mobile, too, but don’t worry, they lived. (Not always the case with Iron Bowl-related shootings!) The game matters in-state for recruiting, but it’s the cultural angle that has always been the real tinder here: Stereotypically, Auburn University is the G.I. Bill and agrarian school that actually does work, while the University of Alabama is the school for the gentry. Whether that is completely accurate or not most days of the year, it is the absolute gospel truth during the four hours or so the Iron Bowl is on.

Note: For all Alabama’s dominance elsewhere, the last five years have Auburn going 2-3 against Alabama, about as well as anyone else over the same span and number of games. Even in rivalries, it’s important to grade anyone fighting a living dynasty on a curve, especially one as systematically and consistently cruel as Alabama’s current regime.

Michigan State/Ohio State. Mean as hell for a lot of reasons, most notably the thin margins in games short on points and long on brutal, zero-sum, field-position football. No one is beating Ohio State consistently in the Urban Meyer era, but Michigan State has been the best or worst matchup for the Buckeyes because of their stubborn, ponderous pace, steady tackling, and their willingness to punt on every possession.

The 2017 edition of this game undermines our whole argument—a 48-3 terror of a loss for the Spartans that showed what happens when a low-margin team completely loses the ability to tackle, punt, and keep the game close against an explosive, deeper team. But 2-3 in their last five meetings overall is solid plowing for Farmer Sparty, particularly when one of those brutal knuckups secured MSU a Big Ten championship.

Oh, and it actually matters. Like, a lot, especially since the Big Ten sandwiched all of their major powers into one hallway fight of a division, and because Ohio State has to emerge from that division mostly unscathed in order to compete for national titles. Michigan State and Ohio State don’t have any obvious cultural clashing to do. They can even bond over both hating Michigan, which if anything lowers the temperature of the rivalry with an enemy-of-my enemy vibe to embrace.

But if the built-in neighborly hatred of Michigan/Ohio State isn’t there, two other vital factors are: being a competitive game with an uncertain outcome, and having national and regional stakes.

Oklahoma/Texas: The problem with the Red River Rivalry is that it’s played at 11 a.m. Central time. The players’ body clocks are running behind, no one really wakes up until the third quarter or so, and the action feels more random than anything else. This works well for the random viewer. The random viewer might otherwise opt out of a game where over the past five years Texas has rolled in reeling with multiple losses, and looked weaker on paper.

The solution to the Red River Rivalry, however, is playing it at 11:00 a.m. Central, because totally random outcomes and unexpectedly competitive games have been the recent norm, not the exception. In 2013, a teetering Mack Brown and his final team blindsided Oklahoma 36-20. The 2015 game got even weirder: a shambolic Longhorns team that came into the game 1-3 rolling for 313 yards to give the Sooners their only loss of the regular season. OU went on to lose in the College Football Playoff. Texas went 5-7 and got Charlie Strong fired, and none of this mattered.

Correction: None of this mattered save for spite, malice, and the satisfaction that something beautiful met something ugly, and when the two parted there was one more new ugly thing in the world. Combined with fans who genuinely dislike each other on a molecular level, possible conference stakes, and the only recorded instance of a fan tearing another fan’s scrotum in a bar fight, and it’s very, very real.

Bonus spite: Oklahoma going on long streaks of dominating this series despite being tiny, underfunded Oklahoma to gargantuan, wealthy Texas.

Ohio State/Michigan. Let’s be super clear here, because a lot of lawyers went to Michigan, and because a lot of Ohio State fans like to yell at people on the internet. This is canonically a great rivalry. It is inherited, and still passed down from generation to generation, and still represents a great eternal conflict between two states that once actually fought over the city of Toledo.

That border war is described as “almost bloodless,” a clever turn of phrase summing up the Michigan/Ohio State rivalry in 2018. The blood is mostly Michigan’s at this point, with Ohio State winning six in a row in mostly dominant fashion. The flames are still real on both sides—hello, Marcus Hall—and in the sardine can of the Big Ten East, the game still matters for all kinds of strategic reasons.

This remains a must-win for both teams for reasons beyond identity politics. But if a viewer wanted a game where the outcome was less than certain? Even given a certain spot, and an unending debate whether it was good or not? Ohio State/Michigan is in the stage of rivalry where the game transcends reality, and has become (for the moment) a powerful myth, and myths have a serious narrative problem for the college football fan: They always end the same way.

Still, it pains me to admit how good the rivalry still is as entertainment, and how good it could be if Michigan ever starts to win these again.

West Virginia/Oklahoma. OK, first: There is no real case to be made for this being a recently competitive contest on the field. Oklahoma has won every matchup between the two teams since the Mountaineers played their first Big 12 season in 2012, and it has not been particularly close.

This is is not about that. This is about the matchup with the highest chippiness quotient of any recent continuous conference matchup. In 2015 there was some “pregame jawing” between the two teams in Norman; a combined 240 yards in penalties followed. In 2016 in Morgantown, the Sooners gathered at the West Virginia logo at midfield, and a pregame scuffle broke out before kickoff. The fighting proved to be West Virginia’s most competitive work of the day: The Mountaineers went into the half down 34-7 and lost 56-28.

The 2017 matchup finally spilled into the game itself — mostly thanks to West Virginia, the team that made the brilliant calculation that the Sooners could not win the game if they were all watching from their locker room. Playing well past the whistle on almost every play, the Mountaineers managed to slow down the game itself, with at least three stoppages for extracurriculars in the first half. Those all came before the Oklahoma offense and West Virginia defense got sideways yet again just before the half, and Oklahoma lineman Dru Samia got ejected.

Oklahoma scored on that drive anyway, which sums up about how well the “get everyone kicked out of the game” strategy worked for the Mountaineers in a 59-31 loss. (In Dana Holgorsen’s words postgame: “Well, we won time of possession.”) It might be possible that the only unifying thread here is Baker Mayfield, and that he was just that irritating for everyone he played against. It might also be possible that, for reasons no one can really explain, the cliché might actually apply here: These teams, for lack of a better or more innovative set of words, really don’t like each other.

And if two teams that irrationally dislike each other and play frequently isn’t a strong definition of rivalry, then I am not sure what exactly is.

USF/UCF. Objectively, maybe the best or at least best unsung categorical rivalry? Two teams located an hour and twenty minutes apart, fighting over many of the same recruits and territory, play at the end of each season for both maximum dramatic framing and (because they share a division) actual stakes. Occasionally, one of them might be angling for a national title, or at least an undefeated season they will claim as a national title. That team might go a little too far with this, and that is their right and privilege as Americans.

American is an important angle here. The American Conference is a fine football conference like any other. The reborn/zombie Big East features players one might not find in other, more monied conferences, players other, more monied teams might not give a full chance. 2018’s UCF squad featured one-handed linebacker and future NFL draft pick Shaquem Griffin. USF 2018 had Quinton Flowers, the archetypical Great In College Quarterback who put up massive, streaky numbers for the Bulls, including consecutive seasons with over 2,000 yards passing and a thousand yards rushing. Because we cannot pay Quinton Flowers for all the joy he brought in college, please: Some team keep Quinton Flowers on an NFL roster long enough to pick up a pension.

This series lacks a whole lot of off-the-field drama, but wait on that. It’s young, and learning, and if it keeps up at this pace, the War on I-4 could grow to something large, wild, and wonderful in the way that only things in the Sunshine State can be. By this, I mean that it could involve hurricanes, a deposed governor, the Army Corps of Engineers accidentally opening up sinkholes beneath both stadiums, some heavy insurance fraud (related and unrelated to the sinkholed stadiums), and several people in the game’s crowd being eaten or kidnapped or both. It could be all of that and so much more.

USF and UCF had to wait until the Arena League folded to legally use the name “War on I-4” because the original “War on I-4” name belonged to the Orlando Predators, until the Arena League team went out of business in 2016. They got the nickname of the whole thing on consignment, y’all. This is the best rivalry in Florida right now, and that is before remembering that the whole thing is named after a sun-blasted stretch of highway dotted with spectacular car wrecks and terrifying anti-abortion billboards. The winning trophy should be a sign reading “PLEASE MOVE WRECKAGE TO THE SIDE,” that is nothing but a sincere compliment.

Ole Miss/Mississippi State. The hypothesis here: The Egg Bowl is the only rivalry in college football where both teams somehow lose the game every year.

Recent history has done nothing but add to the mounting pile of robust evidence that while life is pain, the Egg Bowl remains the drug for people who need a deeper more powerful brand of existential agony. Last-minute game-tying TD drives do not fail quietly. No, they instead end with Ole Miss QB Bo Wallace getting stripped and fumbling in the endzone in Mississippi State’s 2013 victory.

Possible appearances in the SEC Championship game don’t just die in the Egg Bowl, as they did in 2014, when Ole Miss upset the No. 4 Bulldogs. No, they also take possible national title aspirations away at the same time, but that’s okay because it’s not like CBS showed the Egg Bowl instead of the Iron Bowl that year. EXCEPT THAT IS EXACTLY WHAT HAPPENED AND THE WHOLE NATION SAW IT. Then Alabama won the Iron Bowl over Auburn, and shut the door completely on Miss State’s beautiful fantasies of larger relevance.

Like we said: Maximum pain, every time.

Continued! Ole Miss needed a win to get bowl-eligible in 2016, and instead took a hefty 55-20 brick straight in the teeth from Mississippi State. That’s the game where Dan Mullen reminded everyone that his quarterback, Nick Fitzgerald, was only recruited by Miss State and UT-Chattanooga. He ran for 258 yards that day. Dan Mullen can be, for lack of a more accurate word, a real dick in a rivalry situation.

There is so much more. Both schools constantly rat each other out to the NCAA. The fanbases split along the same lawyer-class/farmer-engineer type lines Auburn and Alabama fans do, with one group favoring seersucker and bowties, and the other leaning more towards hunting gear, dark jeans for formal occasions, and a real fondness for pointing out how they grill their own meat. (An actual stated point of pride, since open flame is banned at The Grove, and the food is—spits on ground—catered.)

If the rivalry has a weakness, it’s that there usually isn’t a whole lot on the line in the larger picture when the two meet. Counterpoint: when there is something on the line, the underdog destroys the favorite’s dreams and ruins their year. Watching all this might sound sort of like sadism, but that would be inaccurate.

The Egg Bowl is sadism.

ALTERNATES LIST: SUB-BOILING BUT STILL QUITE WARM

Arizona/Arizona State. MEAN. Competitive, heated, and good for a serious upset every other year or so. Like the Egg Bowl, the Territorial Cup is made better not in spite of two in-state teams scrapping over scarce resources, but because of them.

Army/Navy. It’s great! It’s also super watchable because it is really rare now to see two teams both running the triple-option well! And if we’re all going to be honest, it comes a week after the rest of college football’s regular season finale, when we’re all sad, and involves two teams no one outside of their fanbases watches regularly, and both teams have to display real, touching respect each other at the end. That this is so perverse says a lot about college football rivalries in general, but it’s where we’re all at (except for Army and Navy, obviously).

Michigan/Michigan State. Listen: I’m trying to be kind to Michigan, because they have taken a lot of flak here already so let’s see, that’s eight out of the last ten for Sparty and yup let’s just keep it movin’—

South Carolina/Clemson. Would be way higher if Dabo Swinney hadn’t created a perfect recruiting machine and put South Carolina on the whoopin’ end of a very solid stick for a while. Four in a row and no real signs of a Clemson slowdown mean South Carolina will have to play the hard-fighting but winless underdog for a long time here. (In other words: They’ll just have to be themselves.) Actual brawls happen on the field in this rivalry, so it’s basically one Gamecock upset and a fistfight away from hopping back into the upper echelon.

DORMANT

Texas A&M/Texas. Maybe the only real sleeping feud that makes me sad to think about, if only because the two fanbases still talk about each other constantly like a recently divorced couple who clearly is going to get remarried after a few years of festive mistake-making. They’re so good together, and so awful together at the same time.

West Virginia/Pitt. Dormant, but coming back in 2022 at which point it will rocket into the top echelon of college football rivalries based on sheer amount of moonshine and Iron City beer involved.

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thiswillbereportedtomanagement · 6 years

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The Highsnobiety Crowns are an annual awards series celebrating the very best in streetwear and street culture over the past 12 months. All shortlists are chosen by the in-house editorial staff at Highsnobiety, with the final result left up to you, the reader. Every voter will be automatically entered to win one of two prizes. This year’s grand prize is a $1,500 gift card with two runner-up gift cards valued at $500 each, courtesy of luxury shopping destination LUISAVIAROMA. Stay tuned for the final results on December 21 and see who won last year here. Sneaker culture is mainstream and there’s no way around it. Endorsements and collaborations from celebrities reached peak levels in 2017, and when Hollywood’s millennial elite like Bella Hadid and Justin Bieber are spotted at a local juice spot in the latest kicks, paparazzi photos circulate like wildfire. In some sense, seeing A-list musicians, actors (and celebrity offspring) embracing sneaker culture hugely validates what was once, for decades, a very niche interest, and in turn, we love wearing the same sneakers as celebrities. PUMA x The Weekend, Nike x Kendrick Lamar, Reebok x Gucci Mane; the list of brand x celebrity partnerships gets longer every day, but these collaborations remained a keystone in drawing many new, younger eyes toward the sneaker world. Future OGs. It’s still getting bigger and there’s no stopping it. It’s hard to pinpoint the genesis, but somehow, the tail end of normcore’s New Balance 990 obsession morphed into chunky, unconventional sneaker releases – largely championed by luxury brands – a prominent trend in 2017. Raf’s adidas Ozweego led the way, followed by the Balenciaga Triple S, YEEZY Wave Runner and many others. Knitted sneaker textiles also plateau’d as a must-have for any sneaker brand, and as a result, we saw more sock-sneakers than ever before in 2017. While Nike and adidas continued to push Flyknit and Primeknit respectively, nearly every other competitor brand trumpeted their similar solutions, from Reebok UltraKnit to PUMA EvoKNIT, as well as knitted sock-like fabrics from Dior and Balenciaga. While all that was going on, the roots of sneaker culture are still very much intact. A vast majority of the first-mover retailers, brands and characters are still in it, leading the way and being inclusive of a culture that started small, and has become so broad. At Highsnobiety, we’ve been closely surveying the sneaker world for 12 years, and with that, here are our picks for the top 30 sneakers that 2017 will be remembered for. Daniel Regan / adidas After a total of 16 YEEZY Boost releases, counting the “Pirate Black” restock and two infant-edition drops, Kanye West abruptly switched gears. Dredging up the Reebok-esque Powerphase low-top sneaker, West added subtle “Calabasas” typography in gold, but otherwise kept the ’80s-era aerobic silhouette unchanged. For fans of the 350 and 750, the Powerphase was altogether unexpected, but flew off shelves nonetheless, perhaps partly due to the fact that it was $100 more affordable than previous Boost-equipped YEEZY models, priced at $120. Kanye effectively took one of the most pedestrian sneaker silhouettes imaginable, branded with the name of a suburban California neighborhood that nobody had any reason to care about before 2017, and made it one of the most coveted sneakers of the year. George Ocampo / Highsnobiety.com Being brought into the fold as a Jordan collaborator is a career-changing moment, even if you already posses a largely unrivaled artistic acumen. Following up on his Air Max 90 and Air Force 1 collaborations way back in 2008, this year Brian Donnelly, better known by his graffiti tag KAWS, teamed up with the Air Jordan team to present a luxe take on the IV. While deep-rooted sneakerheads can easily recognize the importance of KAWS and Jordan joining forces to rework the IV, younger fans of the culture took the opportunity to brush up on their knowledge and get familiar with Donnelly’s considerable contributions (RIP OriginalFake) to streetwear over the years. The shoe featured a special mixture of materials, right down to the cage, which was crafted from premium suede instead of the silhouette’s traditional plastic accents. A glow-in-the-dark outsole and KAWS’ signature “XX” branding round out the characteristic makeup. For the remainder of the year, rumors of a subsequent, all-black family & friends model further fueled interest around the special Air Jordan IV. Eva Al Desnudo / Highsnobiety.com The Uptempo made its triumphant return in 2017, with three collaborative Supreme versions leading the charge in April. Affectionately dubbed the “Suptempos” (swapping out the Uptempo’s “AIR” typography for wraparound “SUPREME” text), the pack included black, red, and gold iterations that were seen on the feet of world class athletes Neymar Jr. and Odell Beckham Jr, a far cry from Supreme’s inner circle of seasoned skaters like Jason Dill and Mark Gonzales. Before 2017, the Uptempo may have been an overlooked silhouette as far as the general streetwear hive mind went, but many sneakerheads eagerly snapped up the general release versions that came in months to follow, in large part thanks to Supreme’s limited colorways. The Uptempo also spearheaded the general swell of nostalgia for ’90s sneakers that was big in 2017, coinciding with retro releases of more Nike basketball silhouettes of the era, like the Air Shake Ndestrukt and Air Pippen 1. Josh Sobel / Highsnobiety.com Although it wasn’t what you’d call widely accessible, the concept-proving Futurecraft 4D was a big first for adidas and the brand’s Futurecraft initiative. While there was a slight jargon smokescreen around the shoe’s revolutionary midsole, adidas explained the 4D as the world’s first performance shoe crafted with light and oxygen using Digital Light Synthesis, a technology pioneered by California-based firm Carbon, who partnered with adidas for the sneaker. Unpacking Carbon’s technology even further, Digital Light Synthesis is aiming to make injecting molding obsolete, by using light to manipulate liquid resins, opening doors for customizable mass manufacturing. The Futurecraft 4D is adidas’s first application of such a process, allowing the company to precisely address the needs of each athlete, in reference to movement, cushioning, stability, and comfort. Color-blocked, brand x brand collaborations surely aren’t going anywhere, but adidas’s partnership with Carbon is forever changing the way the world thinks about footwear, and shifting our expectations of what footwear can actually do for us. Bryan Luna / Highsnobiety Reprising their 2012 partnership, Nike and Tom Sachs teamed up to introduce a 2.0 version of the beloved Mars Yard Shoe. The original version was constructed using NASA-approved Vectran material (which is literally used in space on the Mars Excursion Rover) on the upper, and while the textile does boast considerable tensile strength and durability, over time the toe box on the 2012 version began to fatigue. Perhaps no one was in a better position to observe these unforeseen flaws than Sachs, who uses space and NASA as a repeating refrain in his work, and wore the shoe every day for years. But for 2017, Sachs and Nike instead opted for a breathable, polyester warp-knit tricot mesh, while subtle tweaks were also made to the shoe’s outsole tread and pull tabs. The shoe was initially released at Nike and Tom Sachs’ Space Camp, an obstacle course where the trophy was a pair of sneakers. The uncanny collaboration was not just a means to produce a shoe (albeit, a very special shoe), but an inspiring reminder of how ideas and experience can be manifested in a product. Patta While the inline variation of the Old Skool was cosigned in 2017 by everyone from A$AP Rocky to Kendall Jenner, Patta cooked up their own take on the classic low-top, arriving as the “Mean Eyed Cat” edition. Featuring overstated branding on the upper, midsole, and laces, the iconic Vans side stripe was offset by lateral “Patta” typography. Originally, a black colorway was released exclusively in Japan through BEAMS, with brown and white versions to follow, available through Patta in-store in Amsterdam and London, as well as online. The release flew slightly under the radar compared to certain other headline-grabbing drops, but streetwear mainstay Patta hit on a nearly perfect harmony of details and branding, elevating the classic Old Skool in just the right way. adidas Originals / Hender Scheme For years, the Hender Scheme atelier in Tokyo has been hand-making amazing homage shoes with vegetable-tanned leather, created as premium, 1:1 versions of classic silhouettes like the Vans Era and Nike Air Jordan IV. Bigger sportswear brands have been riding the veg-tan wave as well, after Hender’s creations started drawing eyes from all over the industry. But this year, adidas and Hender Scheme worked directly together (Hender Scheme’s first-ever collaboration) to create super-luxe versions of the Superstar, Micro Pacer and NMD sneakers. While the brands may seem to exist on different ends of the business spectrum, Hender Scheme founder Ryo Kashiwazaki noted to Highsnobiety that the collaboration opened his eyes to commonalities between both brands: “Although the two brands work on different scales of business, and the process is different, I feel that Hender Scheme and adidas have a lot in common.” Given the cult following around Hender Scheme and the massive popularity boom being enjoyed by adidas over the past two years, many were excited to see this project officially sanctioned in August. We wouldn’t be surprised to see part two of this collaboration arrive in 2018, possibly with some accessories in the mix. Bryan Luna / Highsnobiety.com Virgil Abloh’s “The Ten” collection with Nike was arguably the biggest sneaker release event of the year. After months of Instagram leaks and anticipation, the collection (minus the Converse Chuck Taylor All-Star, which releases Spring 2018) finally landed at retailers in November, with the Jordan 1 in a “Chicago” colorway considered by many to be the highlight of the pack. The pack is seminal for a number of reasons, largely because it features a total of 10 reworked sneakers, technically including silhouettes from three brands: Nike, Converse and Jordan. Utilizing a deconstructed motif across the entire release, Virgil noted to Nike: “The Jordan 1 was done in one design session. I work in a very like dream-like state. I see it, and it’s done.” Abloh was given unprecedented permission to chop up the iconic silhouette, unstitching the shoe’s top and bottom lace eyelets, delicately pinning Nike’s iconic Swoosh onto the shoe’s upper, and irreverently placing “AIR” branding on the midsole. Asia Typek / Highsnobiety.com First spotted on the feet of Kanye West near his Calabasas office, the Wave Runner 700 was first shown in an official context during the YEEZY Season 5 show in New York. Rumored to be co-designed by former Reebok and New Balance designer Steven Smith, the Wave Runner 700 features a chunky, orthopedic look with brazen color blocking and adidas’s Boost technology hidden in the sole. In this fast-paced world of Amazon Prime and next-day delivery, sneakerheads apparently didn’t mind waiting months to get their paws on a pair, as YEEZY stans were left to pre-order the sneaker for $300 in mid-August, before it shipped in November. The importance of this shoe also boils down to Kanye West cosigning a major trend that we’ve already seen from adidas, as well as fashion brands like Balenciaga and Dior, indicating that we’ll probably be seeing chunky sneakers for seasons to come. Converse In July, Tyler officially confirmed his departure from longtime partner Vans, finally going public with his new Converse deal. The project brought to life his Golf le FLEUR* footwear concept, using the One Star silhouette as a canvas. Initially arriving in four color choices, the low-top featured Tyler’s signature flower motif, with GOLF le FLEUR* branding on the tongue and insole, overlaid floral panels on the upper, and a floral outsole. In an interview with Dazed, Tyler made it clear that he wants people to enjoy and wear his shoes, but not belabor the designs: “It was literally pick four colorways I want to do and that was it. It’s not as intricate and deep as people be making shit out to be.” While the 26-year-old was candid about his straightforward design process, this doesn’t detract from the instant appeal of the colorful low-tops. With this collaboration, Tyler once again reinstated himself as one of the most influential characters in both fashion and music, and although the sneakers launched just this year, you can be sure to expect more drops in 2018. Asia Typek / Highsnobiety.com It was impossible to miss the rise of obtuse and unconventional shoes this year, and even Balenciaga – the most talked-about high fashion brand of 2017 – joined the party with the Triple S. The eye-grabbing silhouette inevitably became the face of the chunky sneaker trend, taking the aesthetic and exaggerating it to meme-worthy levels. Designed by Demna Gvasalia for the brand’s FW17 show in Paris, the highly unconventional design features a triple-stacked sole and pre-distressed details, which were achieved meticulously by hand, before the shoes were thrown into a tumble dryer to be battered some more, according to several sources. To create the heavily padded, triple-soled design, molds were taken from running, basketball, and track shoes. Adding some context to the design, Balenciaga described the shoe as “real, heavy-duty, high fashion-spec footwear.” Despite the divisive design and lofty price tag ($795), the shoes became Instagram status symbols almost instantly. Bryan Luna / Highsnobiety.com COMME des GARÇONS once again flexed its penchant for the avant-garde alongside longtime collaborator Nike. Reimagining the classic basketball silhouette, the Dunk High was fitted with a transparent toe and side-panels. First shown on the runway in Paris, the design will instantly remind old heads of the ESPO x Nike Air Force 1 release from 2004, which also featured transparent window panels. According to Nike and legendary COMME des GARÇONS designer Rei Kawakubo, the Dunk’s design is a “humorous nod to Hans Christian Andersen’s account of an emperor’s vain misfortune — that he was tricked into buying and wearing ‘invisible clothing,’ thus exposing himself — the collection interprets the story’s underlying contradiction of invisibility as transparency,” which also parallels the contemporary social media culture of information overload and over-sharing. Salomon / Boris Bidjan Saberi Before the YEEZY Wave Runner 700 and Balenciaga Triple S, it was arguably the utility of hiking and trail footwear that opened up the chunky-fashion sneaker category. Salomon’s mountain-ready styles – which landed at taste-making boutiques like Italy’s Slam Jam and Berlin’s SOTO – surely led this pivot away from classically minimalist styles like the Stan Smith. Special makeups with Parisian retailer The Broken Arm and later a collaboration with 11 by Boris Bidjan Saberi helped thrust Salomon into the forefront of 2017’s wave of unconventional sneakers. Even taking the current fashion climate into consideration – where cross-genre collaborations are the great equalizer, and brands are working together between disparate categories – this is still a wonderfully bizarre collaboration, and one of our favorites from 2017. Stanley Chen / Highsnobiety.com In March, Nike announced its Breaking2 initiative, a project with the goal of helping runners to accomplish a marathon in under two hours. Kenyan long-distance runner Euklid Kipchoge eventually whittled the best recorded time to 2:00:25, wearing Nike’s maximalist Nike Vaporfly Elite shoe. Based on that design, the subsequent Zoom Vaporfly SP took that same performance innovation and made it accessible to the masses, with a series of strong colorways to nurture further interest in streetwear circles. Although the shoe is an extreme example of Nike’s pure performance technology and steadfast work with the world’s best athletes – even featuring a full-length carbon fiber plate in the sole unit – the shoe was still a nearly instant success with marathoners and sneakerheads alike. Aside from the original color scheme, later releases were limited to exclusive “Shanghai” and “NYC” editions. Norse Projects/adidas Consortium Their sneaker collaborations with New Balance may first come to mind, but Copenhagen’s hometown heroes Norse Projects aligned with adidas Consortium for a pack of two shoes, including the Terrex Agravic. Possibly one of the best winter options that still has the looks and feel of a sneaker, the Terrex Agravic featured a welded upper, reinforced with a GORE-TEX membrane, and finally a Boost sole unit. You’d be hard-pressed to think of another sneaker release that blends utility and aesthetic in such a strong way. Also, in case you had any reservations about the sneaker’s performance capabilities, Norse Projects co-founder Tobia Sloth made sure to field test the shoe on a glacier in Iceland. Asia Typek / Highsnobiety.com A confluence of specific trends in 2017 proved to be the ideal circumstances for the FILA Disruptor to reemerge as a street style banger in 2017. While other ’90s staples like Kappa and Champion also saw a resurgence in popularity, FILA managed to thrive over the last 12 months for many of the same reasons. A resurgence of vintage trends mixed with the prominence of chunky sneaker silhouettes thrust the Disruptor into the spotlight as a trending option that doesn’t carry the same hefty price tag as some of its high fashion counterparts like the Raf Simons x adidas Originals Ozweego. Despite being picked up by commercial retailers like ASOS, the Disruptor was still a difficult cop, especially in the classic all-white colorway. Eva Al Desnudo / Highsnobiety.com The shoe that essentially launched the chunky sneaker trend – the adidas Ozweego, redesigned by Raf Simons – remained on the tip of many tongues this year. Perhaps 2017’s biggest street style staple at fashion weeks around the world, the Ozweego was first met with skepticism and even mockery, then embraced with open arms by fashion’s upper echelon tastemakers. Considering how long minimalistic sneakers like the adidas Stan Smith and Common Projects Achilles were dominating sneaker tastes, it seems many were simply waiting for a shoe to tip the scales. For the “Bunny” colorway, industrial branding reading “FOLD GUSSET THIS SIDE ONLY” was added to the shoe’s obtuse shape, which also featured a more pared-back mixture of white and cream tones. However, the colorway is only a small factor of the Ozweego’s success story, as the sneaker has remained a mainstay for both fashionistas and sneakerheads for several years now. Cameron Oates / Highsnobiety.com Longtime collaborators COMME des GARÇONS and Nike kicked off the year with what remains one of 2017’s biggest sneaker collaborations. Optioned in two colorways, the laceless VaporMax iteration is a near perfect marriage of fashion and technology, arriving 30 years after the original Air Max 1 debuted visible air in 1987. The shoes debuted on the Parisian runway for Spring 2017, as part of Rei Kawakubo’s “invisible clothing” concept for the season. In fact, the COMME des GARÇONS version was released at retail before even the original “Pure Platinum” colorway became available. While the VaporMax silhouette would later be treated to strong collaborations and general releases, becoming one of the most noteworthy new silhouettes of 2017 by any measure, the COMME des GARÇONS version still easily stands out 12 months later. Asia Typek / Highsnobiety.com The Air Max 97 made a major comeback in 2017. The initial, Italian-edition re-release of the Nike Air Max 97 “Silver Bullet” in late 2016 set the scene for the 97 to become one of the biggest Nike stories of this year. Coinciding with the silhouette’s 20th anniversary, Nike released a range of premium versions of the 97, as well as collaborations with the likes of Skepta and Real Madrid superstar Cristiano Ronaldo. Longtime player in the streetwear space Undefeated also imagined white and black colorways of the 97. The monochromatic designs were offset by green and red stripes, cleverly timed with 2017’s Gucci-mania heralded by newly enlisted creative director Alessandro Michele. Patent leather wraparound and subtle “Undefeated” lettering truly set the sneaker off. Nike Often, the slightly adversarial nature of sneaker culture splits people into camps, and rap phenomenon Travis Scott has always been team Nike. He’s consistently spotted touring in Jordans, and featured in a campaign for Nike’s Air VaporMax silhouette. It was only a matter of time until Scott and Nike worked together in a more direct sense, and following his relatively underwhelming Jordan Trunner LX collaboration, the Houston native tried his hand at the classic Nike Air Force 1. The immense team-up of Nike with one of hip-hop’s biggest personalities brought us an Air Force 1 with interchangeable Velcro Swooshes and a lace deubré fashioned after Scott’s signature grills. This release was a certain highlight of the “AF100” pack, which celebrated the Air Force 1’s 35th anniversary. Asia Typek / Highsnobiety.com The low-top, tennis-inspired Gucci Ace sneaker was one of the biggest Instagram flexes of 2017. The silhouette came in a spectrum of embroidered versions, with different botanical, emoji-like options to choose from, including bumblebees, lightning bolts, and Gucci snakes that were very much in line with Alessandro Michele’s overstated, nature-themed creative vision. Later in the year, the Ace was introduced in even more options, featuring badge appliqués across the laces. Extra patches were offered by Gucci for mixing and matching. While the landscape of high fashion footwear can sometimes be intimidating as an outsider looking in, the Ace was reassuring in its simple, timeless design, yet the wide variety of detail options left many prospective buyers feeling like they owned a product that was truly unique. Stussy Every new brand established in the streetwear space is essentially following a trail that was originally blazed by Stüssy and likeminded imprints. Since being founded, the brand has changed hands from the original owner Shawn Stussy, but has never sold out, remaining a leader in the space. A longtime collaborator with Nike, Converse, and occasionally Vans, September heralded the reprisal of Stüssy’s line of New Balance collaborations. A tonal, cream-colored 990 was the result of the project, reminding us that pomp and circumstance aren’t always the best ingredients in a collaboration. The sneaker appeals to today’s sensibilities, and also captivates those of us that have been around to see the best and worst sides of sneaker collaborations. The Stüssy x New Balance 990’s understated finish certainly appeals to the latter. 43einhalb For Air Max Day 2017, Nike brought back two original colorways of Tinker Hatfield’s Air Max 1, the very first sneaker to feature the advent of visible air. Featuring the same cut as the originator (Nike finally nailed the toe box, the shape of which was vastly improved upon versus previous retros), “University Red” was followed by a “University Blue” colorway, all packed in a vintage box with grey stripes and orange lid, faithfully calling back to vintage Nike packaging. These days, the term “OG” gets thrown around a lot, but it was refreshing to see a release that was truly deserving of the moniker. As the Air Max 1 will forever be synonymous with its original red-and-white colorway, this release certainly deserves a nod on our end-of-year list. sneakers.fr Working with Parley for the Oceans, adidas has been pushing ocean sustainability and recycling practices to the forefront of sneaker culture. The resulting Ultra Boost collaboration (and more Parley x adidas releases that followed) was a compelling marriage of hyped sneakers and eco-friendly manufacturing. The first actual product release came on World Oceans Day in 2016, while July 2017 ushered in perhaps the best iteration from the project, the “Ice Blue” Ultra Boost 3.0, which leveraged the Ultra Boost’s runaway popularity to give Parley a bigger platform. While resell prices didn’t reach triple-black NMD levels, and later releases like the Parley EQTs did sit on shelves, you have to applaud the fact that adidas is consciously using sneaker culture to bring awareness to a global problem that will surely affect younger generations. During a video interview with Highsnobiety, adidas Originals Senior Design Director Erman Aykurt probably put it best: “Helping us in spreading the message, when they’re flexing on Instagram, that’s the best thing that can happen to us.” Bryan Luna / Highsnobiety.com On the complete opposite end of the spectrum of Balenciaga’s obtuse Triple S sneaker, the Speed Trainer was a sleek, monochromatic knitted silhouette that started being delivered in early 2017, and has been consistently selling out all year. Available in three cuts – low, high, and extra-high – the lightweight, Italian-made sneaker was optioned in a range of pared-back colorways from burgundy to grey melange, complete with a rugged, geometric sole unit. Using its popularity on Instagram as a baseline, the Speed Trainer silhouette was truly the best embodiment of the sock-sneaker trend in 2017, at least in the high fashion world. What’s more, Balenciaga hit on a truly winning formula by having a sleek, knitted sneaker on deck, as well as a chunky, dad-core option in the form of the Triple S. Vans / Our Legacy Storytelling isn’t always prerequisite for strong design, but Our Legacy’s sneaker and apparel drop with Vans (the brand’s first-ever branded collaboration, aside from in-store exclusives for their Stockholm flagship) definitely excelled in both respective departments. Drawing inspiration from California hardcore punk culture, the pack included reworked versions of the Authentic, Half Cab, and Old Skool, featuring nylon details as well as a black-and-orange color scheme. Speaking with Highsnobiety, Our Legacy co-founder Jockum Hallin revealed that working with Vans was a major personal milestone, as he couldn’t even get his hands on the shoes when he was younger: “Vans wasn’t really available in Sweden when I was a kid, but all the bands that I admired, they all had the same shoes.” While there may be no immediate or obvious connection between Our Legacy’s signature, Swedish minimalism and Vans’s California skate heritage, the collaboration was certainly well-executed, as well as being a favorite of Highsnobiety‘s editorial staff. Asia Typek / Highsnobiety.com Far and away the most anticipated sneaker collaboration of the year, “The Ten” could quite easily have occupied 10 different spots on this list, save the Converse Chuck Taylor All-Star, which as previously mentioned doesn’t arrive until Spring 2018. Similar to Virgil’s Jordan make-up, the Presto featured several undeniably strong design twists that helped elevate it above the rest. In an age when tons of (sometimes) lazily color-blocked collaborations are releasing each and every weekend, Virgil made a point of advancing the status quo by fundamentally altering each shoe in “The Ten.” The Presto’s upper was flipped inside-out to reveal hidden seams, a reflective Swoosh was added under the shoe’s plastic cage, and a decorative foam tongue was secured to the forefoot, resulting in a surefire contender for shoe of the year. Plus, Instagram teasing from Luka Sabbat and A$AP Nast (who was gifted a specially Sharpie’d “AWGE” pair), pushed the interest around these Prestos to peak levels, months before they even released. Asia Typek / Highsnobiety.com There was no shortage of Vans collaborations in 2017, from disruptive streetwear startup Anti Social Social Club to legendary haute couture designer Karl Lagerfeld, but one of the better examples came in the midst of summer from Alyx Studios. While the statement lighter cap detail was objectively a strong, original touch across a handful of Vans sneakers, the release’s true merit stems from the archival silhouettes picked out by Alyx founder Matthew Williams. Dredging up several styles that have been absent from the Vans catalog for some time, Style 29 was fitted with a chunky lug sole, while Style 36 featured toecap stitching that was faithful to the original Vans design worn by prisoners. The pack was strong in its entirety, but the best fit for core sneakerheads arguably was the parchment-colored Authentic which featured streetwear-friendly Alyx branding on the midsole. @Seanwotherspoon / Instagram The face of curated consignment shop Round Two, Sean Wotherspoon was the winner of 2017’s Nike Air Max Day “RevolutionAir” contest. Designed in collaboration with the likes of Ben Baller and A$AP Nast, his concept sneaker saddled the Air Max 97’s upper on an Air Max 1 sole unit, going even further to replace the 97’s rippling 3M panels with characteristic corduroy in a pastel color palette. Wotherspoon made sure to really finesse the details, also including Velcro patches on the tongue for mixing and matching, in addition to an infrared air bubble. Although the shoe was originally slated to drop on Air Max Day 2018, several limited release events were held before the end of the year at Union in Los Angeles and Need Supply in Richmond, Virginia, the latter of which was actually canceled when a mob showed up at the shop’s front door. Andrea D'Auria / Highsnobiety.com Aside from collaborations with Public School, John Elliot, and Travis Scott, Nike unleashed a grip of strong general release Air Force 1s in 2017. While it didn’t come with an official title, the affectionately nicknamed “Mini-Swoosh” (we see you Alexandra) pack included three colorways, each splashed with mini Nike Swooshes across the upper. The sneakers offered the look and feel of a personalized pair, but despite how they may have looked at a distance, these were no Sharpie customs. The Highsnobiety Crowns are an annual awards series celebrating the very best in streetwear and street culture over the past 12 months. See all of this year’s nominees here.

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