#famous owens

[wowwforever]

what sucks is that if Blaseball was still going on we’d get ‘What if Miku was from Baltimore’ and she’d have like a big crab arm holding a baseball bat and a shirt that says ‘Fuck Tillman’ over her jersey and fuckin Famous Owens would be there

[disco-cat]

Doodled some of my favorite Blaseball players (surprise surprise, they're all Tigers)

[jirnkirks]

famous owens will love forever 2kforever

so true.... famous owens accept love into your heart you bastard

[thehallstara]

in through the nose– you’re in your apartment. out through the mouth– the sound of distant traffic trails in through the window. in– you can smell frankincense on famous’s breath; out– they burrow deeper against your side. in– you’re in chicago. out– you’re here, free, tangible, alive.

(nerd, famous, and an attempt to move forward)

-

hi have a 12x100 about some of my favourite guys (cws for grief/mourning, weed mentions and panic attacks)

[marthamays]

A NONSENSE CHRISTMAS WITH SABRINA CARPENTER (2024)

[mobius-m-mobius]

Tom on more of Owen's s2 improv (x)

[vanteguccir]

── ୨୧ !　𝗖𝗔𝗡 𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗦𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗙𝗢𝗥 𝗠𝗘?

　　　　　　　　　𝒄𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 x reader

SUMMARY: Where Y/N is a worldwide famous singer, but her favorite thing in the world is hearing Chris singing just for her.

WARNING: None.

REQUESTED?: No.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

When you are a world-famous singer who performs at least once a month, tours every year, models, acts, does interviews, is looked at everywhere by papparazzi and scouts, has articles published about you - often with false information -, it was safe to say that Y/N needed a place to rest, and hers was next to Chris.

Her resting with him was many things: spending hours marathoning mindless movies on the couch wrapped in a fluffy blanket and her boyfriend's arms, or when she could lay on Chris's lap and sink into a new book; sometimes it was when her house shared with the triplets smelled like her favorite cake, or when she spent the day making a new DIY that she found on tiktok...

Y/N was a girl with simple tastes, she didn't need much to be impressed, just a few minutes next to Chris were enough for her to feel like the luckiest girl in the world and finally be able to relax her body completely, getting rid of the adrenaline of having a life as an artist.

Don't get me wrong, Y/N loved her profession, since she was little her biggest dream was to be able to perform in front of a crowd and show her talent, and her fans provided that for her; seeing a sea of ​​people in front of her singing along to a song she composed made her see stars, the adrenaline that coursed through her veins when she picked up her pink microphone and could walk, dance, run and jump around the stage freely while singing the lyrics that referred to important moments in her life was incredible.

But nothing compared to waking up next to Chris in the morning and finding the sleepy face she loved so much along with his husky morning voice, or cooking homemade food for them and receiving a hug from behind that was always accompanied by "I love you so much". No moment in front of interviewers with overpriced magazines compared to when Chris won a round of one of his video games and got up from his chair with an excited scream, running over to where Y/N was and showering her with kisses.

Don't even remind me of the thousands of butterflies that flew together in Y/N's stomach when Chris wrote one of his love letters to her, delivering it along with several sweets and chocolates that she was addicted to - a weekly event in their lives.

Y/N's professional life was hectic and tiring, when she wasn't on a plane going from one country to another, she was in a studio recording a new song, or on a famous program answering very controversial questions.

So, when her busy day's were over and she could simply be Y/N, she would go straight into Chris's arms, where she knew she would receive comfort and security.

And that's exactly what she did today. After a turbulent day in the studio recording her new songs, making wrong high notes and having to redo them, crossing out written verses and rewriting them, the girl just wanted to get home and dive into her boyfriend's arms.

Y/N slowly closed the door to her shared room with Chris, her eyes wandering to the low lights and the almost imperceptible sound coming from the television, which was turned on in a random series.

Chris was already in bed dressed in his pajamas, the fluffy gray blanket covering his body up to his shoulders. He had his eyes almost closed from the intense tiredness, but he seemed to fight against it.

That was another thing that Y/N loved about Chris, regardless of what time she came home, he would always be waiting for her awake - more or less.

The girl walked with light steps to the nightstand on her side of the bed, taking the remote control and turning off the television, complete silence settling in the room.

"Hey, I didn't hear you coming." The brunette's sleepy voice caught Y/N's attention, who turned her face towards him, seeing him still lying in the same position, but with his blue eyes now very much open and looking at her. Probably having "woken up" due to the lack of the background sound.

"Hi my love, I just arrived. I'm just going to take a shower and come to bed with you." Y/N responded in a whisper.

"Okay." He said softly, looking at her from below with doe eyes.

Y/N leaned over the bed momentarily, sealing her lips over Chris' soft ones for a few seconds before getting up again and walking to the bathroom.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

Y/N opened the bathroom door, the steam from the hot shower escaping momentarily as she crossed to the bedroom, already in her pajamas, before closing it again.

She walked slowly to the bed, seeing Chris lying on his side and holding his phone with one of his hands, looking more awake than before - or trying to -, the screen brightness turned to a minimum as his thumb scrolled through his Instagram feed.

Chris lifted his head slightly when he heard her approaching, a lazy smile stretching across his face as he stretched slowly, locking the screen of his phone and briefly placing it on top of his bedside table. He opened his arms, waiting for his girlfriend to lay there.

Y/N returned the smile, lifting the gray blanket and laying down on her side of the bed, snuggling in before burying herself in Chris's arms. She ran her nose down his neck, breathing in the fresh scent of soap on his skin, caressing the sensitive spot with her lips.

His hands circled her shoulders, a sigh of pleasure escaping his lips at the comfort that the warmth post-bath of Y/N's body provided. The girl lifted her left hand, running it through Chris' hair, brushing his bangs out of his eyes.

"How was your day?" Chris asked softly a few seconds later, his blue eyes taking in his girl's tired features.

The deep sigh that escaped her mouth was answer enough for him: tiring.

"Did you eat anything? Are you hungry?" He continued, lifting his right hand - which was previously on Y/N's waist - and taking her left hand from his own hair, bringing it to his lips and sealing the soft skin for a few seconds, keeping his attention on her face.

"I had lunch, honey, I'm not hungry." She replied, a tired smile appearing on her lips at his affectionate gesture.

"Don't you want me to get you a snack? Lunch was many hours ago, kitten." Chris intertwined their fingers, only receiving a shake of her head.

"Can you sing f'me?" Y/N asked in a low, weak tone, her words barely noticeable.

A goofy smile grew on Chris's face, his eyes shining with excitement and love. He adored it when his singer girlfriend asked him to sing for her, it seemed too ironic to be true, but that was exactly what Y/N adored most.

"What do you want today? Rap, pop or rock?" He teased, a soft chuckle escaping Y/N's lips as she rolled her eyes, intertwining their legs together and scooting closer to him, laying her head on his shoulder, placing a little kiss on the region.

"Anything is fine, I just want to hear you sing." She asked, eager to listen her boy's soft voice against her ear.

"Y/N baby, I dedicate this one for you." He joked, a smile on his voice before he started to sing a song that he knew that was one of his girl's favorite. "Stay bugging out, days on end..." Chris began slowly, resting his chin on his girlfriend's head, his voice now sounding hoarse and low, intensifying Y/N's drowsiness. "Days on end."

Her eyes began to flutter closed, her heartbeat calming down as the weight of her shoulders seemed to drain down her body, her limbs relaxing completely.

"Play this often, don't take this shit too seriously." He continued gently, stroking Y/N's back in circles with his left hand, feeling the area lose its previous tension. "Know you get insecure, wish I had more wisdom for you..."

Y/N took a deep breath lightly, allowing her mind to drift off into the world of dreams, Chris's voice becoming muffled and almost null against her ears, but her brain seemed to still register it, using it as a personal tranquilizer.

"Sleep, babe." Chris whispered after singing some more lines, noticing her closed eyes and slightly open mouth.

He pressed his lips to the top of his girlfriend's head, before snuggling closer against her body, allowing himself to sleep, Y/N's slow breathing serving as his favorite lullaby.

[scikeyuri]

hey dont cry theyre happily married husbands ok?

[szollibisz]

they make me sad :(

[milosaweirdguy]

Do you think they only allow five Torchwood employees because that's how many seats the SUV has

[majestic-salad]

Tigerbeams Aces I miss you <3

[meep-meep-richie]

Owen / drunk / bathtub / cowboy hat -> CINEMA

[uhhhitsme]

hey just a quick silly little reminder. the feelings they shared died the night curt left him for dead. but the owen that loved him didn't die until after. the owen that loved him stared him down on those steps, in the dark again, alone again, grieving something so intangible the only word he could summon for it was a secret. a private, intimate thing. something precious in it's vulnerability. a weapon.

and in a way, a promise. something to be kept. the secret that owen kept for curt was love---the kind of love that's crafted impossibly, made on stolen time, born from loneliness and from kinship, from the wonder of being known and being wanted for it. the kind of love that got you to lower your guard, to turn your back on your keeper, because you trust that they will keep this secret safe, even when it can kill you. you know them. you are both sworn to this oath. the same oath that makes your voice tremble when you speak of the remnants, the shards. the same promise that you are so bound to that even after betrayal, to finally sever the chains---to let him go---is unbearable. you stare him down, in the dark, abandoned, alone, and you love him, still. you can't pull the trigger. you can't break that vow.

the owen that loved curt died on those stairs, at his lovers hand. he took their secret to the grave.

[jirnkirks]

pt 1: tigers & locked tomb au

lyctorhood suited lottie poorly.

i went a little off the rails and wrote a short locked tomb au for lottie & famous 😔 this is one of my fave fics of the year i think. famous & lottie siblings forever btw.

spoilers for gideon the ninth's ending

lottie ceilingfan (lovelot triskelion) & famous: 3rd house

Lyctorhood suited Lovelot Trikahelion poorly. It roiled in aer like the whiskey ae learned Famous loved to drink too deeply. It was a furious thing, a despairing thing. Lyctorhood was Famous Trise in all their wretched, blazing glory, screaming and railing as they locked themselves in the cage of Lottie's eyes.

Lovelot was named for aer eyes- rose pink and numinous, fitting for the heir of the Third House. And now the sloe-eyed pink is frosted in Famous' pale grey, deepening, no- pulsating around the aorta of aer pupils.

And it's true- it is Famous' uncanny eyes that flit about the Gentle Emperor's ship. It is Famous' surety pressed between aer palms and the handles of their hatchets, their rank disrespect needled through their aer teeth when the Emperor Undying turns his kind face towards aer.

Quiet, quiet, Lottie begs for the first, for the ninth, for the infinitely many times since ae had pinned their heart down. Pressed Famous between aer molars and down aer esophagus, held them in aer guts until Lottie had reconstructed two into one. Infinite, because everyday ae wished they would stop speaking from aer own nerves and sinew, and come from beside aer instead. The first because Lovelot will take it back each time, because this is the closest ae will have to their viper tongue and sharp wit. Because Famous had given to themselves to aer- not to the Emperor Undying, not as the shining dead of the Third House nor to the promises to Queen Melusine Trihelia of the Third House. To Lottie, and even if it had been the hardest thing, it had been the surest thing. Their sister, in all but name. Aer brother, in all but name.

Their spirit roiled and heaved, because Famous could not stop themselves, even if it was sorry for the wretchedness it seeded in their necromancer. Famous stomped to their death, wretched and sure and Lottie walks into lyctorhood the same way, carrying two hearts on the pink of aer tongue.

[thehallstara]

(hello tumblr have a brief late night nerdfamous moment)

“Is this what waiting for ascension felt like?”

A quiet room, your head on their chest. Slow breath catching in their throat; a pause.

“A little bit, probably. A little different, too. Back then, we didn’t know what would happen. Now…”

“Yeah.”

“Are you scared?”

“Less than I thought I would be? It’s just… It’ll either happen, or it won’t. We made our choice and we stuck with it and now we wait, for better or worse.”

“Mmmm.”

“I… I think you should go spend the election with Spears, maybe. Or at home.”

“I can handle–“

“Famous. It’s for me, okay? I need you not to be here, I can’t deal with that. So go wherever and sleep through it, and I’ll call you once it’s through. And if I can’t–“

“Don’t say that.”

“And if I can’t, you’ll go find Spears or Dunlap, okay? Promise me.”

“I…”

“Famous.”

“Okay.”

“…Good.”

[even-in-arcadia]

I have been rereading Owen Chase's The Shipwreck of the Whaleship Essex (in the wake of finishing Whale Weekly) and the speed with which the whole calamity transpires continues to astonish me:

Not a word was spoken for several minutes by any of us; all appeared to be bound in a spell of stupid consternation; and from the time we were first attacked by the whale, to the period of the fall of the ship, and of our leaving her in the boat, more than ten minutes could not certainly have elapsed!

Almost more though, is the depth of shock and tragedy conveyed in the very minimal dialogue and description of the other whaleboat crews upon returning to what had been their entire world less than an hour before:

They had but shortly before discovered that some accident had befallen us, but of the nature of which they were entirely ignorant. The sudden and mysterious disappearance of the ship was first discovered by the boat-steerer in the captain’s boat, and with a horror-struck countenance and voice, he suddenly exclaimed, “Oh, my God! where is the ship?” Their operations upon this were instantly suspended, and a general cry of horror and despair burst from the lips of every man, as their looks were directed for her, in vain, over every part of the ocean. They immediately made all haste towards us. The captain’s boat was the first that reached us. He stopped about a boat’s length off, but had no power to utter a single syllable: he was so completely overpowered with the spectacle before him, that he sat down in his boat, pale and speechless. I could scarcely recognise his countenance, he appeared to be so much altered, awed, and overcome, with the oppression of his feelings, and the dreadful reality that lay before him. He was in a short time however enabled to address the inquiry to me, “My God, Mr. Chase, what is the matter?” I answered, “We have been stove by a whale.”