#omar assarian fics

[wannab-urs]

This fic... it's so creative, so well written, and so fun to read. There's a whole lot of fluff and a good bit of angst. I loved every single chapter, all the twists and turns, all the soft sweet moments, and all the scary or painful ones. The ability to write accurate characterizations of so many different characters is seriously mindblowing. I adored this fic.

The Infinity Cube Masterlist

When you play with a strange cube, you’re transported out of your current reality with your boyfriend Marcus into brand new ones starring alternate versions of your boyfriend who look and act entirely different every time. With each encounter, you start to wonder if you’ll ever make it back to your real universe?

Main Pairing: Marcus Pike x Female Reader

Side Pairings: Pedro Characters x Female Reader

Last Updated: August 27, 2022

~~~~

Part 1: The Beginning (Marcus Pike) – Fanart

Part 2: This Is Not a Dream (Din) – Fanart

Part 3: One of a Kind (Javier) – Fanart

Part 4: In the Next Life (Pero) – Fanart

Part 5: The Truth (The Thief)

Part 6: Versions of Me and You (The Thief) — Fanart

Part 7: Don’t Lie to Me (Whiskey) – Fanart

Part 8: Nightmare (Dave) – Fanart

Part 9: No Plan to Follow (Veracruz) — Fanart

Part 10: Half of a Whole (Frankie)

Part 11: Remember Who You Are (Frankie)

Part 12: Shelter (Oberyn) - Fanart

Part 13: Temporary Conclusions (Ezra) – Fanart

Part 14: Change of Perspective (Omar)

Part 15: I Wish (Maxwell)

Part 16: A Deal With the Devil (Dio)

Part 17: Survival of the Fittest (Max)

Part 18: This is How a Heart Breaks (Dieter, Marcus M, Nico, Joel)

Part 19: Those Who Leave and Those Who Stay (Javi G) - Fanart

Part 20: The End

My Edit: 1, 2

Cube Fanart

More Fanart I love: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5

Fan Video

Playlist

Final Chapter Announcement Video

[perotovar]

You got knocked out. No. I wasn't knocked out. We both know I could'a gotten back up again. I just didn't want to. I'm not a boxer.

[artemiseamoon]

Finale: When the lights go out

Fic info & chapters

Preview below, read on A03

An: I started this fic in 2021, it’s always bittersweet ending fics. I feel like I’m sending my characters off into the world, like a mom sending her kids to college. I’ll miss you Omar x rc. 💕

The next day

Tears build in the corner of your eyes from laughing so much and your cheeks hurt. You press one hand against your stomach and use the other to wipe your eyes. In a matter of minutes, the time capsule of your bedroom has turned into a one-man comedy show.

Omar doesn't miss a beat, cracking jokes and doing spot on impressions. For the last hour, you’ve been going down memory lane, it started with old pictures, now you’re halfway through the yearbook.

Omar slept on the couch last night, and he’s been here ever since. His mood was choppy like the sea, it ebbed and flowed. At some points, he seemed in higher spirits, at others, he seemed depressed, but right now he's in good spirits.

Once you reach the end of the yearbook, Omar's face suddenly darkens, and he puts the book aside. He goes quiet. You scoot closer to him and take one of his hands into your own.

“Hey, what’s going on?”

Omar keeps his eyes fixed on the book. “High school was a long time ago. What have I done? You went off to college, followed your dreams…me, what have I done?”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

“Why not? I turned out like this, like nothing. A fucking loser. Nothing to show - "

You release his hand to grab his face, “stop that, Omar. Not happy with the way things went? Then make different choices, better ones.”

His eyes soften, “why haven't you given up on me yet?"

“I guess loving you so much makes it harder to leave.”

“You mean like a friend, right?”

You don’t conform nor deny and look away. You never intended to admit you still love him, you kept that truth close to your heart, but now -

Read on A03

[pedrostylez]

Not me actually looking at the word count for the first part of an Omar Assarian thing I’m writing and it’s at 10.3k….

As if people are actually reading Omar fics wtf me

[pumpkin-stars]

I....I want absolute chaos, and just....how would the Pedro boys win you back after rejecting you “for your protection” you know the whole “my life is too dangerous for you” argument that they realize now is bullshit?

Anon I’m so incredibly sorry this took so long, I’ve been sitting with this for months and months adding one every now and again cause I couldn’t get the words out. But it’s here now!

14 guys under the cut 😁💕

Masterlist

Din Djarin

He doesn't try to win you back. Not really. The realisation that it was bullshit comes when you prove to him that you can take care of yourself. He knew that anyway, probably wouldn't have considered you as anything more than a friend if you couldn't handle protecting yourself, but to know it and to see it are totally different things.

Javier Peña

He's never been one for grand gestures, not until now. Tries to go down the rom com route of giving you flowers and trying to woo you to make up for it. Fails to see (at first) that all you want is for him to admit that he was being an idiot, but he realises that at some ungodly hour, sleep deprived and overthinking about how much better it is when you're sharing his bed and at his side. Cut to him banging on your door at 4am to apologise.

Frankie Morales

He's scared, after Colombia. Scared that Lorea's people will somehow trace everything back to them and come after him - you. Breaks things off and gives you full custody of the baby and secludes himself. It takes Benny and Will to convince him that they're safe, that he doesn't have to worry about it. They're the ones who 'win you back' - explaining everything that went down and how he's just worried about you, not that he's fallen out of love.

Pero Tovar

He rejects you right before he leaves for his latest adventure - it’s a dangerous one, the chances of him dying are higher than before. It’s all a front to protect your heart should he never return. But then he does... Two years later, he’s back in your little village, all battered, bruised and bearded, a bag of seeds in his pack - ones that will grow some of the fruit he brought to you one winter, the fruit you said was tastier than anything you’d ever eaten. It’s a gift, an apology, a request for forgiveness. He left you for two years with a broken heart, thinking he’d never come back... and he’d lived for two years with an ache in his chest, waiting for the day he could return.

Agent Whiskey

Statesman doesn’t allow outside attachments for a reason, but Jack doesn’t exactly follow rules… If he gets with you, it’s gonna take a lot more than company policy to pull him away. But then something bad happens and he’s convinced that letting you go is better for you… I don’t think he’d try to win you back, I think he’d spiral, think that he’s the problem - that the people he loves die when he’s around. And he wouldn’t go near you unless you got hurt somehow, at which point he’d track down who hurt you and take care of them, then wait by your bedside and hope you’ll forgive him.

Ezra

He broke things off via comm. sent his signal out across the stars hoping you’d hear it. Told you to move on from him and not wait for him cause he wasn’t gonna come find you. And it hurt him to do it… he wasn’t protecting from his life, he was trying to soothe the burning ache that would come from you learning of his passing on the green - ‘cause try as he might he can’t see a way off. Lucky for him, you don’t accept that message and when he comes home with one arm there’s nothing to win back.

Max Phillips

This guy? You think he’s gonna let something happen to you? Babe, I can turn you, then you won’t be fragile and breakable. C’mon slugger, let me take a bite.

Marcus Pike

Rejecting someone?? Marcus Pike?? Unlikely. He might have a scare - get shot, even almost get shot - and need a few days to think things through, but he’s not going to throw away the love of his life to protect you - it’s him who’s in danger most. There’s a long conversation, and a reevaluation of his career - art crimes isn’t meant to be that dangerous, but he’ll transfer to another department or leave the bureau completely if you want him to.

Oberyn Martell

He’s not rejecting anyone either. He’s a prince, a warrior, a poisoner, a viper. He can protect you if you need it, and can avenge you if he somehow fails.

Dave York

You don’t even know about that part of his life, and that part of his life doesn’t know about you. He’s careful. And if any threat comes along, its neutralised before you even know about it.

If he did reject you to protect you… he’d win you back by explaining that side of himself, making you see that it wasn’t him being cruel (not completely), but trying to get you out of the line of fire before anyone could target you.

Marcus Moreno

This guy isn’t going into a relationship with anyone without making sure they understand the risks of his job and his abilities. You gotta push back against any attempts at protecting you, it’s fear and worry more than anything else - he doesn’t wanna lose another partner - make him see that you’ll do whatever you can to get out of whatever city is under attack, implement emergency strategies and escape routes to his mom’s house if it makes him feel better… but kissing him and reminding him that you love him and want him is enough to stop any thoughts of rejecting to protect.

Maxwell Lord

The most dangerous thing about him are the chemicals he uses on his hair. You don’t need protecting. And he’s just grateful to have someone who wants him enough to stick around.

Zach Wellison

It’s less his job, and more the ptsd from that job. He doesn’t want to accidentally hurt you or yell at you when things get noisy in his head. If he pushes you away, I think he’d just wallow in self pity rather than try to win you back. You’re gone and that’s for the best. You’d have to go back to him on your own volition.

Omar Assarian

He’s another guy who’s rejecting to protect you from potentially losing him. Boxing isn’t safe, though he’s as safe as he can be, and he doesn’t really wanna put you through having to patch him up all the time. He won’t win you back until after he quits fighting for good - once he figures out that the thing he wants to do with his life is be with you, whatever that involves.

~~~~~~~~

Taglist: @a-skov @apascalrascal @amneris21 @darnitdraco @dilfoscarisaac @elegantduckturtle @fisforfulcrum @goldielocks2004 @idreamofboobear @irrelevantbutembarrassing @jitterbugs927 @jo-snicket @joanofarkansass @kaybrownies @mypedrom @pedrostories @phrog-seeds @readsalot73 @salome-c @seasonschange-butpeopledont @the-little-ewok @the-scandalorian @tobealostwanderer @yours-truly-r @99sth

[artemiseamoon-ficart]

When the lights go out

Omar Assarian (lights out fx)

Images & Moodboards for A03

I know this isn’t his look in the show, but it fits my aesthetic perfectly.

Fic is getting revised as we speak.

[prolix-yuy]

LIV MY GOD this was a punch (no pun intended) in the gut. The sensory aspect of the patterns, the pounding cadence of the prose, I was swept along in her emotions. And then to have that same repetition become what grounds her in the end? Genius! This was amazing!

A drabble on Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria with Omar Assarian.

Omar Assarian x OFC. No name. No description.

WC:424

Just Breathe

One, two. Focus. Breathe. Her gloves thumping steadily against the canvas, reverberated through her. She felt it flow back through her muscles, confirming what her mind needed to know, this is where we are.

One, two. Focus. Breathe. The rythmic thud made it's way to her chest, warring with the erratic thud of her heart. Anxiety ran down her spine like the drops of sweat. Thoughts running perpendicular then their trails merging, growing until she was soaked in them. Regret dripping from her.

One, two. Focus. Breathe. Stay in the moment but anticipate the next. The next dodge, the next weave. Keep moving. Moments don't last forever. Look for the openings. Remember what you can do.

One, two. Focus. Breathe. Watch your opponent. Look for tells. Adapt, be what you need to be to beat them.

One, two. Focus. Breathe. Her feet kept moving, her weight on the balls of them. Balanced. That's something that she had lost. Balance. Control. Her temper. Her mind.

The food had gone cold by the time he arrived. He explained it away, he got caught up, had to run an errand. She couldn't hear that, just her thoughts that she plucked from in between his words. I didn't want to be here. I'd rather be somewhere else. I'd rather be with someone else.

"It's fine. I'll reheat it." Fix it. Fix you. He was a boxer too. He could read bodies. Her muscles flexed under the strain of holding up her mirror, showing him what she thought he wanted.

"Baby." The faint touch of his hand on hers was confusing. Too much/not enough. Pleasure/pain. Love/hate. Fight/flight.

The plate tipped from her hand. Another mess she had made. Another accident. Another fault. The second plate left her hand by force. Fight. It shattered along with the illusion she put up for him. She screamed at him. All the emotions she couldn't put into words. The ones she knew well, the ones she couldn't name, they all came out in a torrent of redirected anger. He stood and took it until she couldn't take it anymore. Flight. She left him standing there.

One, two. His arms came up around her. Focus. The press of his skin on hers. The heat at her back. The whisper in her ear. "I love you. Always. Even when you don't think it. I'm here. I want to be here." Breathe. With the steady rise and fall of his chest.

One, two. The two of them. A pair. A combination. Focus. On the truth. On here and now. Breathe. Just breath.

Tags @kirsteng42 @babydarkstar @prolix-yuy @thegreenkid @hquinzelle @fangirl-316 @gracie7209 @jedifarmerr @doommommy @scorpio-marionette @sturkillerbase @harriedandharassed @aynsleywalker @mswarriorbabe80 @quica-quica-quica @rise-my-angel @adancedivasmom @graciexmarvel @kinda-nobody @eelqueen @misspearly1

[littlemisspascal]

Hellooooo :D

I need to know more about Formula 101 characters 👀

Did you draw inspiration from current drivers? Is Frankie and Javi's relationship inspired by anyone in particular? Also what drivers usually get penalties for either causing crashes or speeding? Who regularly ends up last at races? What type of YouTube videos that drivers make does Oddball look forward to? Guess the song? Language sessions? I need to know everythiiiing. I love the world building so much!!!!

Hello dear Anon thank you for reaching out with these questions and for the kind support! I'm not used to really talking much about my fics so it might come across as awkward 😅 but I shall do my best to answer them all 😊

Did you draw inspiration from current drivers? - Yes 100% I draw inspiration from current drivers and also a few drivers who were part of the grid these past few years and have since retired/moved on. Looking at their stats helps me design/mimic ones for my characters, so it adds an extra boost of realness to the story.

Is Frankie and Javi's relationship inspired by anyone in particular? - I honestly think these 2 characters would get along if they ever met, idk why I can't explain it but there's just something about their ✨ vibes ✨ There are several real-life F1 friendships/bromances that definitely help give me ideas of how to write scenes, but there's not anyone in particular nope.

Also what drivers usually get penalties for either causing crashes or speeding? - I haven't found time yet to really dive into the season yet of the story, we're still in the pre-season period. But I do imagine Dave York + Omar Assarian as the type to let their aggression get the best of them on track, the fierce desire to win overtaking logic and thus leading to bumping tires or even speeding in the pit lane. And since they're both teammates, that's an extra dash of drama I'm interested in exploring.

Who regularly ends up last at races? - One of the Bravo brothers--Dieter or Gio, for sure. Not because they're lousy drivers or anything negative about their skills--it's just they've got the worst car on the grid and everyone unfortunately knows it. Doesn't help their team principal, Dustin Melray, has a lot of marriage problems that bleed into the grand prix weekend more than he'd personally like 😬

What type of YouTube videos that drivers make does Oddball look forward to? Guess the song? Language sessions? - Grill the Grid is something Oddball's seriously looking forward to--and maybe that's just because she's a rookie who's never done it before. Some of the older drivers get this glazed over look in their eyes at the mere mention of it lol. Also Guess The Song, yes, she's got excellent musical taste so that's an easy win. Language sessions I feel like would be really cool with Javi offering to expand her Spanish knowledge while she teaches him some of the common phrases from Sorgan (I'm thinking words in SW/Mandalorian. Lol she'll try to slip in dank farrik only to have their media agents threatening to duct tape her mouth)

[supernaturalgirl20]

Tough Love

Pairings: Omar Assarian x F!reader

Warnings: Smut 18+, unprotected sex, violence, stalking, angst, almost death of a character, fluff.

Summary: You’ve been dating Omar for almost a year and things were going great despite his cocksure attitude. Your relationship is tested when you ex boyfriend makes an appearance. What you thought was a chance meeting turns out to be something much darker.

A/N: So this is my first time writing for Omar so thank you @colorlesswhispersunknown for requesting this fic and pushing me to do it. Also thank you @dornish-queen because not joking without your pedro videos I wouldn’t be able to write half my fics. 😘

Divider made by me 😁

Comments and reblogs are really appreciated 🥰

You would never get used to the smell, blood and sweat mixed together making you slightly nauseous, but you endured it for him. You loved him, not that he knows that. You would tell him eventually but Omar wasn’t into the whole soft romantic mushy stuff. Especially not in front of the boys.

Omar had a fight, a warm up so to speak and you came along for support. That and you wanted to tease the hell out of him. He abstained from sex a full two weeks before a fight, longer if his opponent was in the big leagues and it killed you. Being able to watch him train, showing off those ripped muscles and not be allowed to touch, he’ll on earth. Now you would get your own back.

Making your way into the gym you sway your hips as you go, the red dress clinging to your curves just right.

“Bro look, three o clock. Now that is some fine ass right there. You think I’d have a shot?”

Omar isn’t paying much attention trying to get into the zone.

“I bet that mouth of hers could be put to good use, no what I’m saying?”

“Would your three shut up!”

“Oh come on bro no way you wouldn’t tap that shit.”

“I wouldn’t I have my girl now.”

“Huh pussy. Not like she would know.”

“Yeah but I would, I…”

Omar finally spots who the guys are talking about and he sees red.

“Eh that’s my girl so you better keep them eyes on the ground or I’ll knock your lights out, ya here me?”

“Sorry man we didn’t know. You haven’t exactly introduced us, how were we to know.”

He steps out of the ring and walks towards you, his fists clenching and unclenching as he moves. His cock twitching in his pants begging to be inside you.

“Baby, what are you doin dressed liked that?”

Your lips quirk into a devilish smile, “what? You don’t like it?”

He pulls you close, grinding his hips against you and you can feel just how much he likes it.

“Baby girl you know I love that dress on you, I prefer it off you but.” You laugh before pulling him in for a searing kiss.

“Uh your gonna be death of me baby.”

“You love it.”

He kisses you again quickly before heading back to prep for the fight.

Omar was surrounded by adoring fans as the flash of cameras went off. You were so proud of him and would still have been had he lost. Standing at the back so he can have his moment your startled by a the feel of a hand wrapping around your waist. You turn quickly, ready to punch the fucker in the face when you let out a gasp, one that doesn’t go unnoticed by Omar.

“Jason? Oh…..my god, what are you doing here?”

“Hey sunshine, you look…..gorgeous.”

“Oh….thank you I guess.” You feel a little awkward with him saying that, him being your ex and all. The relationship fell apart and you ended things two years ago.

“You into boxing now? Didn’t think this was your scene.”

“Yeah my boyfriend had his fight tonight.” Your anxiety quiets as you feel his presence behind you, his arm wrapping around you pulling you close.

“Hey baby, sorry about all that you ready to go?”

“Hi you must be the boyfriend, I’m Jason.”

Omar takes his offered hand and shakes it, squeezing it slightly.

“That’s me.”

There’s an awkward silence that you break by saying your goodbyes to Jason.

“It was nice seeing you, but we have to go. Bye”

“Yeah see ya around.”

Omar leans in as you both leave, his hand squeezing your ass just to prove a point to Jason.

“What was all that about?”

“He’s an ex, things didn’t end too well and it was me who broke it off.”

“Well your with me now baby girl and I need you so let’s head in back to mine.”

Water cascaded down your skin, over your peaked nipples as his hand gripped your hips tight. Omar pounded into you, two weeks of sexual frustration finally getting released. You gripped onto his back, legs wrapped around him, your body tingling the the aftermath of your last orgasm. Boxing was really helping with his stamina you thought as he hit that perfect spot. He pulls a nipple into his mouth and pinched it with his teeth, the pain of it sending you spiralling into your fourth orgasm. You cry out his name, your tight cunt clenching around him. He buries his head into your neck as he comes hard, spilling his seed all over your stomach.

“Fuck baby I needed that. So damn hard to not touch you for two weeks but fuck if it isn’t worth it when the sex is that hot.”

“Wanna do it again?”

“God your fucking perfect baby.”

A week later your walking around the grocery store when you feel someone watching you. Turning around you don’t see anyone or anything out of the ordinary so you continue on. This continues like this for the next two weeks and your beginning to get freaked out. Your now getting flowers at work, which you know aren’t from Omar, not that he means too but he isn’t romantic. Then it’s letters, saying how your beautiful and that you’ll be mine one of these days. You’ve tried so hard to keep all this from Omar, he has to focus on his training and if he found out about this he would make it his mission to find them and kill them.

All that comes crashing down though when you start receiving calls at home. No one says anything when you pick up, it’s just heavy breathing or music in the background but you know it’s from them, whoever is following you. It gets too much one night when they ring nonstop, so you make your way over to Omar’s apartment in a state.

“Baby girl what a nice..”

You are shaking so he pulls you into him. “Hey, what’s wrong? Did something happen?”

“I…..they…..I’m…..scared Omar.”

“Hey slow down baby I’ve got you ok, you’re safe now.”

“Someone’s been following me, sending me flowers, creepy notes and now they know where I live and they’ve been ringing me nonstop.”

“Hey it’s ok. You know I won’t let anything happen to you right?”

You can’t speak so you just nod your head and hold him tighter. Omar is mumbling something and he pulls you back a little so you can look him in the eyes.

“I wanted to do this under different circumstances but I want you to move in with me.”

“What?!” Your completely stunned, the man hadn’t even said he loved you yet.

“Are you sure this is what you want though? Your not just asking me because I have a stalker?”

“No! I was really gonna ask next week in our one year anniversary but hell now is as good a time as any right?”

“Yes I’ll move in with you.” He pulls you into him again and you let the words slip from your mouth, “I love you.” He doesn’t say anything but you feel him stiffen beside you.

“The boys are heading out tonight we can meet up with them if you like? Maybe take your mind off it, at least for the night anyway.”

“Yeah I’d like that.”

The club is full tonight and the music is loud, it’s vibrations running right through you. After a round of shots Omar brings you into the dance floor and you both loose yourself to the music. Your grinding up on him, his hands rubbing all over you. Turning around in his arms you kiss him passionately, one of the boys coming up beside you whispering, “think you should get a room boss!” You both laugh as you continue to kiss. Pulling away you make your way to the bar trying to gain the barman’s attention when a hand touches your lower back. Thinking it’s Omar you lean into his touch until to turn to face him and it’s not Omar, it’s Jason.

His eyes rake over your form, his hand still firmly placed on your lower back and you can feel it getting lower.

“Your looking…..fine.” Your frantically looking around for Omar hoping you can make eye contact, but you can’t see him anywhere.

“Did you like the flowers I sent you?” Realisation dawns on you and you can feel his grip on you tighten. Your anxiety is through the roof now and you need to get away from him.

“They…..they were from you?”

“Hmm Hmm and the letter. I know your sorry for dumping me and it’s ok, I forgive you, I no I shouldn’t but I’ll make an exception for you sunshine.”

“Leg go of me! I’m with Omar now and I’m happy I don’t want…”

“Oh that idiot, he’s not good enough for you sunshine, no matter he won’t be a problem.”

Your frozen in fear and you can feel him lead you through the crowd towards the exit. You know you should pull away, scream for help, something but you just can’t.

“I told you you’d be mine soon.”

Omar is with the boys and notices you been gone a little too long.

“Who’s that with Y/N?”

“Bit too friendly with her if you ask me.”

Omar sees exactly what there talking about, he also notices the way you seem afraid. He stalks towards you, anger boiling beneath the service. Jason has you almost out the door when he reaches and grabs a hold of you, pulling you into him. He quietly asks if your ok and nod shake your head, tears beginning to fall from your eyes. This pushes him over the edge as he walks right up to Jason and gets right in his face.

“What the fuck do you think your doing it it’s my girl?”

“Ha your girl, Y/N is mine , always has been. Why don’t you just back off man.”

Omar laughs turning towards you before he swings his arm and punches Jason right in the face. Suddenly the boys come out of nowhere and you all end up outside in an alleyway. Omar continues to beat Jason up, when you finally come to your senses you move towards him begging him to stop. He doesn’t at first not until his eyes meet yours and he moves off Jason. You pull him into you and you can’t help the sobs that escape.

After Jason is taken to hospital you take Omar home and clean him up.

“I’m sorry I got a little carried away back there…”

“Thank you.”

He looks at you a little confused that your thanking him for loosing his cool.

“Jason was the one stalking me. You saved me baby.”

“That son of a bitch! If I’d known that I would have killed him. That asshole scared the women I love I’d put him…”

“What did you say?”

He goes stiff again just realising what exactly he said before his shoulders relax. He pulls you close and kisses you softly.

“I said the women I love.”

“You love me?”

“Course I do baby, have for a while.”

“I love you too.”

“As long as I’m around, I won’t let anyone hurt you, this I promise.”

Permanent tag list: @lunaserenade @anaaaispunk @maievdenoir @elinedjarin @seasonschange-butpeopledont @alberta-sunrise @dihra-vesa @pintsizemama @athalien @loserrlauraa @thorins-queen-of-erebor @pascal-rascal424 @ikinmahlen @pascalisthepunkest @dindjarinneedsahug @almaeunice @jediknight122 @prostitute-robot-from-the-future @colorlesswhispersunknown @stevie75 @rosie-posie08 @jediknight123 @hauntedmama @greeneyedblondie44 @prettylilhalforc @giselatropicana @the-mandalorian-066 @spanishmossmagnolia @phoenixhalliwell @sherala007 @its--fandom--darling @donnaa @javierpinme @luxmundee @littlemisspascal @hayley-the-comet @ezras-channel-rat

[artemiseamoon]

Okay Omar crew ( I know there were some of us a year ago)

Out of no where I started working on completing When the Lights Go out.

If anyone who was following the fic is still around, and if you want to be tagged, let me know. I hope there at least 2 of us. 💕 I’ll try to tag those who interacted with the chapters as well.

[phantomviola]

Javi, Dave, Omar 💕💕

Thanks for these Zuzka! 🥰

Javier Peña: Favorite scene to watch over and over?

THIS ONE IS SO HARD ZUZKA!! The one that comes to mind right away is the showdown between Maxwell and Diana at the government facility. This entire scene is a masterclass in acting by Pedro. He gets to play all the various emotions in a matter of minutes (greedy, maniacal, evil, scared, sad, remorseful) and he just leaves me in awe each time I watch. Gal Gadot also does a terrific job delivering her speech/plea to the masses. Plus, we get that heartbreaking reveal of Max’s past. Just a fantastic climactic scene! I never get tired of it.

Dave York: Is there someone you’d love to see Pedro work with?

For purely selfish reasons, that would be Dakota Johnson and it’s due to @dindjarin-mandalorian’s fic “A Soft Place to Land.” Lindsey told me that her dream actor for Lira was Dakota so now I just want to see her alongside Pedro in a romantic comedy, romance, or drama film. Plus, they are two gorgeous individuals so that’s a bonus. Power on-screen couple for sure!

Omar Assarian: Favorite outfit?

This one was another tough question, but I have to say that every time I see Javier Peña in his tac vest and aviator sunglasses I think to myself “That’s a look.” And it really is. It makes Javi look like such a badass but also the aviators make him look so damn cool too. Also, it doesn’t matter what color the shirt is either or if it’s short-sleeve or long-sleeve. It always works and looks fantastic.

Pedro Pascal character ask game

[ithinkwehitametaphor]

Masterlist

Narcos:

Javier x Reader

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Javi x female reader [short imagine / words: 458]

Javi x reader [smutty short / words: 202]

Javi x reader [soft, slightly spicy, death mention / words: 1015]

 ---   ---   ---   ---   ---   ---   ---   ---   ---   ---   ---   ---   ---   ---   ---   ---

Javi x Steve (Stavier)

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High Maintenance [An ongoing series on AO3 / NSWF / for more warnings see tags on AO3 / current word count: 17,195]

Border Lights [Ask inspired short / smutty / words: 548]

No more Solo Action [Ask inspired short / smutty / words: 541]

[bits and pieces, brainstorming, gifs: #stavier]

---   ---   ---   ---   ---   ---   ---   ---   ---   ---   ---   ---   ---   ---   ---   --- 

Steve Murphy x Reader

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unmarried!Steve Murphy (Narcos) x female reader [inferred sexual harassment, cunnilingus, sex / words: 3799]

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The Sandwich Chronicles (unmarried!Steve Murphy (Narcos) x female reader) [ Welcome Back - part one of  ?  / words: 2552]

[Hidden Treasure - part two of ? / words: 1511]

[Dinner for Two - part three of ? / words: 3113]

[Nightcap - part four of ? / words: 2703 / NSFW]

[Bliss - part five of ? / words: 1628 / NSFW]

[ Angel - part six of ? / words: 1447]

---   ---   ---   ---   ---   ---   ---   ---   ---   ---   ---   ---   ---   ---   ---   ---

Two/One:

Kaden Russell x Reader (OC)

Past/Present/Future

[Chapter One / words: 1197 / tw: terminal illness]

[Chapter Two / words: 1697 / tw: terminal illness]

[Chapter Three / words: 1318 / tw: terminal illness; death]

[Chapter Four / words: 2774 / tw: terminal illness; death]

[Chapter Five / words: 2332 / tw: terminal illness; death]

---   ---   ---   ---   ---   ---   ---   ---   ---   ---   ---   ---   ---   ---   ---   --- 

Fargo (Season 1):

Mr. Wrench x Mr. Numbers (Wrenchers)

Erstwhile [Concluded Prequel to Fargo Season 1 / canon rewrite / NSWF / for more warnings see tags on AO3 / words: 59,405]

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Drabbles, Headcanons, Prompts etc.

Narcos: Javier x Steve (Stavier)

Lights Out: Omar Assarian x Patrick ‘Lights’ Leary

Fargo (FX): Mr. Numbers x Mr. Wrench

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You can find these fics and a few more on AO3 as well: ithinkwehitametaphor

[pumpkin-stars]

A Cozy Night In

Omar Assarian/GN!Reader.

Request: How about something soft for Omar? He seems like he’s secretly a big love bug. Please and thank you! - for anon

Word Count: 561

Warnings/Content: Fluff, a smidge of self-doubt but a lot of cuddles.

The first of 12 drabbles for my 1 year tumblr anniversary :)

He’s always full of energy, whether he’s on his toes and ready to strike or his legs are bouncing as he sits in front of the tv after a long day at the gym. Even in sleep he’s restless, shifting and twitching into a new comfortable position every other minute.

The only time he’s still is when you’re beside him. When he can shut everything out, switch off his brain, and relax.

His hair isn’t really long enough for it, but he always ends up with his head in your lap and your fingers stroking the soft strands, the weight of the world lifting from him with each of your breaths.

There’s no pressure with you. No expectation of glory, or want for bravado, no need to play the part he’s curated for himself. The part he’s started to hate - one that was genuinely him before you came along, helped him realise that he didn’t need fame and glory to be happy.

All he needs is your hands in his hair, your voice in the room, your smile directed at him.

None of the guys know about you, and it’s another thing on a growing list of reasons he wants to quit the fighting. They’d tease him, say he’d gone soft, make whip noises every time he opened the door for you or held your hand - as though they wouldn’t get slapped upside the head if their moms were around and they didn’t do it.

You don’t need Future World Middleweight Champion Omar Assarian.

You just want Omar. Normal guy with a fucked up work/life balance and enough energy to power a small town for a few hours a day.

He’s starting to realise that’s all he wants and needs too.

He spends most of his life in his gym clothes, his boxing gloves… he owns perhaps one suit, and it hangs off him, two sizes too big. It’s one his Ma bought him some years ago, one he’ll grow into eventually - one he’d have to be a heavyweight to fill out properly. But when he’s home, it’s all soft hoodies and grey sweats - he has no idea how you keep them so fluffy, stays well away from that load of laundry (though he’s the one that does all the nasty sweat-soaked gym stuff). It’s like being surrounded by love, some days, though the amount of time he spends with you wrapped in his arms you could argue he’s the one doing the surrounding… 

His coach says, all he has in the ring is himself. He can’t trust anything or anyone besides the person he is, the moves he’s practiced, the spontaneous well-learned actions. He doesn’t know what might happen in the ring, hopes for a victory, of course but… can’t ever tell until that one winning punch lands. But he can trust in what happens afterwards, he knows you’ll be waiting for him back at home, with ice packs for his bruises and bandaids way too small for his cuts, his favourite pizza, and that fluffy hoodie.

He’d never live it down if the guys knew his post-fight routine included watching Lilo and Stitch or Brother Bear. Maybe even Finding Nemo.

“It’s about the family babe! The found family!” He grins at you, leaning into your side, pizza box open on your lap. “Just like I found you, right?”

~~~

Taglist: @a-skov @amneris21 @apascalrascal @idreamofboobear @irrelevantbutembarrassing @readsalot73 @yours-truly-r  @joanofarkansass  @elegantduckturtle @seasonschange-butpeopledont @the-little-ewok @mypedrom @salome-c @pedrostories @jitterbugs927 

[knivesareout]

can you answer all of those pedro asks

oh boy okay uhhhhh!!! all of them are below the cut

Din Djarin: Who is your favorite character?

Javier Peña! Javi will always be my favorite character.

Maxwell Lord: What is your favorite movie and/or tv show?

TV show is Narcos and movie is Prospect.

Agent Whiskey: Favorite character to read fics for?

Javi or Frankie!

Max Phillips: Who is your least liked character?

Omar was a punk ass bitch.

Ezra: Is there a role or genre you would love to see Pedro take on?

I'd LOVE to see him in a romantic comedy!

Javier Peña: Favorite scene to watch over and over?

All of the brothel scenes with Oberyn were fun. But also to be annoying: every scene from Unbearable Weight.

Oberyn Martell: Is there a performance you can’t bring yourself to watch?

No because I watched everything he's been in but I wouldn't re-watch Earth vs the Spider or that Charlie's Angels thing he did.

Dave York: Is there someone you’d love to see Pedro work with?

Selfishly I want to say Chris Evans because uh yeah???? But like, also Meryl Streep or Anne Hathaway? Stanley Tucci.....

Marcus Moreno: What movie would you want to see a sequel for?

Prospect!!

Frankie Morales: Scene that makes you cry?

Oberyn's death scene was ROUGH. I'm pretty sure I cried. I can't remember anything else though.

Dio Morrissey: Scene that makes you laugh?

GOD the entirety of Unbearable Weight but to be less annoying.... a lot of that Calls thing he did was really funny and obviously the duck hunting scene from Narcos.

Zach Wellison: Character you want to hug most?

Lord please let me hug Marcus Moreno. I just know that man gives the best fucking hugs with his big ass biceps and broad ass shoulders.

Nathan Landry: Character you love to hate?

TOVAR lmao

Omar Assarian: Favorite outfit?

Veracruz: Character you think could have been better written?

Frankie Morales!!! I wanted MORE and yet got bread crumbs.

Thank you for letting me answer all these because they were super fun 😭

[phidippuss]

Pedro Pascal Requests

Notice January 6 2021: Requests temporarily closed to catch up on my inbox and work on Selkie!Tovar

Who I write for:

- Javier Peña

- Din Djarin

- Ezra

- Max Phillips

- Agent Whiskey

- Catfish Morales

- Pero Tovar

- Marcus Pike

- Zach Wellison

-Maxwell Lord

-Marcus Moreno

-Shane “Dio” Morrissey

-Omar Assarian

I’m willing to give Oberyn Martell a try, but I’ve never seen GOT, so I’d just have to base it all off of compilations of his scenes...

I’m happy to write for any gender! I prefer gender neutral, but I’m happy to do something else. That being said, I may choose to make it gender neutral if I feel like gender does not affect the plot or overall enjoyment of the fic. Feel free to request a version of a story in a different gender, and I’ll rewrite it to work!

I will write one-shots, headcanons, and drabbles. one-shots will be added to the bottom of my to-do list, unless i’m particularly inspired by it. I will try to get headcanons done within 7 days. I’ll let people know if i get swamped and it will take longer. Drabbles will be handled on a case-by-case basis as to how long they’ll take.

I normally don’t write NSFW, but I’m willing to do it for headcanons, although no guarantees for that either. I’m handling it on a case-by-case basis as to what i’m comfortable writing. as a trans masc person, there are some things i’m just not comfortable writing.

I will not write for pregnancy, childbirth, or periods. It makes me extremely dysphoric to write about those things. I am happy to write about prepping for kids (like getting the house ready and making announcements and stuff) but i will not do anything in great detail about pregnancy, and I may choose to leave it up to the reader how the child is coming into their lives (make it able to be read as adoption, surrogacy, or otherwise). —edit June 2020: I’m willing to do these on a case-by-case basis. If I’m not comfortable writing it, I will reply to your ask with a list of other people who may be willing to write it for you.

I’ll let you know if i’m uncomfortable writing something, and I’ll always try to give you a list of others who may write it for you.

Requests for headcanons for the boys are open, “the boys” includes Javier Peña, Din Djarin, Ezra, Max Phillips, Agent Whiskey, Frankie “Catfish” Morales, Pero Tovar, and Marcus Pike (unless otherwise specified)

[littlemisspascal]

The Infinity Cube Part 14

Main Pairing: Marcus Pike x Female Reader

Chapter Pairing: Omar Assarian x Female Reader

Word Count: 2100+

Series Summary:  When you play with a strange cube, you’re transported out of your current reality with your boyfriend Marcus into brand new ones starring alternate versions of your boyfriend who look and act entirely different every time. With each encounter, you start to wonder if you’ll ever make it back to your real universe?

Warnings for the chapter: Language, Angst, Fluff, Reader does a lot of introspection again, Reader of this reality is not a fan of boxing, Lots of Dreamer vs Realist descriptions, HSM reference cuz the song’s been stuck in my head all week

Author Note: Thank you everybody for your kind support of this fic! I appreciate every like, comment, and reblog 💝 This chapter fought me so hard--which figures, you know, since Omar’s a boxer and all--but I’ve reached a point where I’m satisfied with it and I’m excited about what’s coming next. Hopefully y’all enjoy it too!

PART 1 / PART 13 / PART 15

It never fails to feel jarring, one minute standing face to face with a man wearing Marcus’ face, memories of your alternate self’s life slowly downloading themselves into your brain, and within the next twist of the cube, existing in a brand-new universe, looking around a rundown gym with decades-old posters of formerly famous boxers and their championship matches pinned along the walls.

There’s a boxing ring in the center of the space with navy blue ropes and within the square you see a young boxer practicing his jabs with his coach, striking the focus pads over and over again with a few dodges and weaves intermixed in-between. 

Even with most of his face concealed behind protective headgear, you know he’s your Brown Eyes of this universe. It’s an instinctive feeling you’ve become intimately familiar with, a stirring deep within your core as if your soul is reacting to his nearness, drawn to him by fate’s invisible strings insisting your path continues to intersect with his in every lifetime.

“Keep your right up, Omar,” the coach instructs. “That’s it.”

Omar’s a few years younger than you’re used to meeting Marcus’ variants, with a slimmer build you suspect is due a strict exercise and diet regime, but you catch glimpses of familiarity in his quick reflexes and defined arm muscles, the low grunts emitted when his coach continues correcting his stance. 

There really is truth in that old saying the more things change, the more they stay the same.

You three are the only ones in the gym. It’s dark outside the windows, long past evening hours, suggesting the two men are seeking a practice session free of distractions. You sit on the sidelines, heart jolting painfully in your chest with every sharp smack of Omar’s fist connecting with the pad.

You’ve never been a fan of violent sports. Seeing people hit each other to the point of breaking bones, spilling blood, and losing consciousness tends to make you feel sick to your stomach rather than excited. Honestly, it’s only the monumental love you have for your boyfriend keeping you anchored here in this uncomfortable chair in a place reeking of sweat and testosterone. If not for the stupidly cute wink he shoots you every time he breaks to chug his water bottle, you’d be at home right now watching your favorite tv show instead.

When Omar puts his mind to something, he’s as stubborn as a mule about making whatever dream he’s concocted in his head a reality. And for the past couple months he’s been channeling all his spare time, energy and focus into accomplishing his goal of becoming a boxing legend, somebody audiences go berserk for, remembered and revered for decades after his retirement. 

You hope his dream comes true as much as any boxer’s girlfriend does, but you also are painfully aware there isn’t room in this relationship for two dreamers. One of you has got to be the realist and since Omar’s too busy learning how to avoid getting beaten into a bloody pulp, it’s up to you to take on the role. You’ve got to be ready to pick up the pieces if it all falls apart during a fight and to provide a soft landing ground for his wounded pride to recover in the aftermath. You also have to prepare yourself for the scary possibility his pride won’t be the only thing damaged.

Movement in your peripheral vision has you turning to find another man lurking in the shadows near the locker room, watching the practice session with critical eyes. You’ve seen him around here before–Patrick Leary, you remember Omar telling you, a former world heavyweight champion and also the son of the gym’s owner. More often than not you spot him silently evaluating your boyfriend with that same disapproving expression on his face.

It might sound odd, but you’re actually glad to see that look. Mostly because everyone else in the gym–the trainers, the other boxers, Omar’s little obnoxious gang of so-called friends you’ve never been fond of–all shower Omar in praise on a daily basis. Seeing Patrick’s immunity to the hero worship makes you feel like there’s another realist in the gym with you, somebody who knows being a boxer isn’t all about fame and fortune and fancy titles.

Patrick leaves a few minutes later just as silently as he arrived. You make a mental note to talk to him next time you see him. Maybe there’s a chance you can convince him to talk to Omar about his own experiences. 

It’s nearly ten o’clock by the time Omar’s coach declares the practice session over. You’re on the verge of falling asleep in the chair when Omar comes over and braces his arms against the ropes of the ring while looking down at you with a crooked smile. You squint up at him, taking in his sweaty hair with the twin buzzed lines on either side now that he’s removed his headgear, and there’s a disorienting moment where the overhead light blurs his silhouette into someone else. 

Marcus, you realize, is staring down at you, facial features a bit fuzzy like the way things look in dreams. Marcus, who you haven’t seen in what feels like a hundred lifetimes, is staring down at you, looking drained and in need of a long nap and yet still as beautiful as you remember him in all your deeply buried memories.

“You ready to head home, babe?” he asks.

The question is sweet, considerate. It shouldn’t make an icy chill shoot down your spine like you’ve been hit with a snowball. You duck your head with a wince, shoulders hunching up towards your ears, praying the sensation passes soon.

“Babe?”

And that’s what the problem is, the conclusion comes with another shivering tremor that has your fingers curling into fists in your lap.

Marcus’ nickname for you has never been ‘babe’. 

“Y-Yeah,” you say, and it comes out choked-sounding from your mouth, hoarse and jagged. You swallow and peer up at Omar again, pasting a smile on your face when you meet his concerned gaze. “Don’t forget you owe me french fries for staying out this late.”

“Anything for my favorite cheerleader,” Omar replies with another stupidly adorable wink. He grabs his water bottle and his gloves, and slips out of the ring with fluid grace you can’t help but feel envious of. He gestures towards the locker room with a jerk of his head, telling you, “Gimme ten minutes, okay?”

You wave him off, already grabbing your neon blue backpack off the floor to make sure you’ve got all your belongings. You unzip each section, finding a couple of books, your phone, wallet and keys all safely packed inside. There’s also a sweatshirt from your old high school and you pull it out to protect yourself from the late-night chilly air only for the Infinity Cube to come tumbling out with it.

Hastily slipping your sweatshirt on, you scoop up the cube off the floor and stare at it in your hands for what feels like a very, very long time. Your lips purse with disappointment, thinking you’ve come so far, seen and experienced so much, but there’s still miles to go before you can sleep in your own bed again with Marcus’ arms wrapped around you. 

It’s sort of funny that with Omar you’re a realist, keeping a firm grip on reality and tightly managing your expectations, but with the cube you’re a dreamer, hoping for a happy ending despite the Devil’s machinations. 

It’s sort of funny, except, no, it really isn’t funny at all.

You wonder if the thief’s dear was a dreamer too. She must have been, you reckon, to have selflessly sought after the cube to free the thief’s heart without hesitation. Love makes dreamers of everybody and fuck if they don’t suffer for it.

You shake your head at your own maudlin thoughts. Self-pity isn’t going to bring you any closer to solving the cube. Negativity is just what the damn thing wants you to feel. It’s time for a change of perspective.

How’s that ridiculously catchy High School Musical song go again? I gotta get my head in the game.

Ignoring the fact you have no idea what the ‘game’ is that the cube’s forcing you to play–hell, maybe you’re being an idiot even labeling it as a game at all–your mind wanders back to the children’s book with the foxes. All the different kinds of love it described. 

All the different kinds of love you’ve now felt.

It feels dangerous to even contemplate, but still the question takes root in your mind: what is there left to experience? More memories? More Brown Eyes to meet and fall for and leave behind? Temporary conclusion after temporary conclusion ad infinitum? Wonderful. Just fucking wonderful.

Annnnnnd you’re back on the self-pity train.

“You just had to be called the Infinity Cube, didn’t you?” You glare daggers at the item responsible for your misfortune. “Couldn’t be satisfied with something shorter, like, the Week Cube or the 3 Hours Cube, huh?”

“Who’re you talking to?” Omar asks, appearing at your side and startling you. He’s changed clothes, dark hair still wet from his quick shower, one eyebrow quirked and questioning your sanity. 

“Nobody,” you answer, but your voice comes out faint sounding, too distracted by his closeness. There are dark bags beneath his eyes and a faint yellow bruise along his chin where a boxer had gotten a lucky punch in past the protective gear. 

It occurs to you then how often all your Brown Eyes put themselves in risky positions. Working as government agents, traveling across space and engaging in shootouts in the jungle, fighting enemies much, much bigger than themselves…

Unthinkingly, you place a hand on Omar’s face, thumb ghosting over the injury. “Why do you do it?”

Omar makes a face, exhaling a harsh sigh through his nose. “Aw, babe, I thought you were past this.”

Memories flicker in the back of your mind, lighting up like they’ve been summoned by the sound of his voice. There had been many late-night arguments over Omar’s choice to be a boxer. Many late nights where he’d slept on the couch and you’d stared at the ceiling, trying to wrap your head around it all and failing every time. Those nights are few and far between nowadays, but Omar’s wrong to think you moved past anything. There’s a stark difference between indulging someone’s fantasies and accepting them.

“Tell me, please.” You lower your hand, squeezing the cube between your palms. “I want to know. I want to understand.”

“I don’t know how to explain it,” Omar admits hesitantly, then lets out another sigh when you shoot him a narrow-eyed look of annoyance. “It’s a feeling, I guess. Adrenaline or some shit like that, maybe. When I’m in that ring, everything slows down. And I’m all alone except for these,” he holds up his fists, strong and a bit swollen from a long day of throwing punches. “Boxer or not, life knocks you down and fucks you over. At least this way, I get to return the favor with a few hits of my own.”

You chew on your bottom lip, thinking it over, unable to stop your eyes from drifting back towards the bruise.

“Pain’s only temporary, babe,” he says, reading the silent question in the anxious lines of your face. “And if it does stick around, well,” his rough hands gently cradle the sides of your face, brown eyes warm and crinkled at the corners with fondness, “looking at that pretty face of yours every day is the best painkiller.” 

It shouldn’t make sense to you, but it does. Maybe it’s only because you’re a dreamer stuck in a realist’s body that allows you to connect to his words, but regardless you understand Omar’s determination to fight, to hit back harder than the damage dealt against him. The desire to come out on the other side of the struggle as a victor.

You want to be a victor too.

You can’t fight back against the cube physically, but you think about chess for a second time, about strategies and outwitting your opponent, and you think maybe, just maybe you can fight back intellectually. You don’t have magical powers, but you do have a college degree and a burning hatred for the golden piece of shit so if there’s a chance you can at the very least turn the tables and make up your own rules to play this damn game by then you’re going to seize it.

Goodbye self-pity train. Hello partially-developed game plan.

“Thank you, Brown Eyes,” you say quietly, leaning into his touch. “Take care of each other, okay? And good luck with your dream.”

Without waiting for a reply, you turn the cube once again.