have a oneshot idea you can’t quite flesh out? well here i am! i write fluff, angst, and smut. it could be a [reader x het / gay / reader fic] or [oc x charac] depending on your preference! also don’t worry about feeling that your idea’s “too freaked out”, i don’t judge and i’d be happy to talk it over in my messages!

writing depends on the length of your commission! drabbles take four days to a week at most, shorter works (1k-4k words) take 1 to 2 weeks, longer ones (5k-8k) take 3 to 4. any commissions greater than 8k words (such as multi-parts) must be discussed privately! :D

these are some of the characters i write for. you may message me in case your preferred character isn’t here! :>

the poppy war: altan trengsin, fang runin, yin nezha, chen kitay

attack on titan: hange zoë, jean kirstein, eren jaeger, mikasa ackerman, levi ackerman

smallville: clark kent, red k clark, oliver queen, lois lane

jujutsu kaisen: ryomen sukuna, itadori yuji, satoru gojo

house of the dragon: jacaerys velaryon, aemond targaryen, helaena targaryen

terms and conditions (more stated in my ko-fi)

payment must be made upfront

updates will be given throughout the process to make sure it’s up to the client’s expectation (but this does not mean unlimited revisions. a specific number of revisions are to be given depending on the work commissioned)

i reserve the right to post any commissioned pieces for my portfolio, especially x reader oneshots. clients that commission oc x character pieces may request to not be posted as courtesy

a few of my works for your reference:

the alchemy (clark kent, fluff)

mess up your white tee (i’ll do you dirty) (clark kent, smut)

clark kent groveling (drabble, fluff)

coffee for two? (hange zoë, fluff, long-fic)

crimsons (altan trengsin, angst)

champagne coast (altan trengsin, angst & fluff)

for more, kindly check #00:works or my masterlist!

You have been walking for several hours now. One, two, three, perhaps... Let it rip. No, no. This isn't it. Four hours... Five hours, probably. Certainly not "one, two... etc". You took a stroll in order to forget what happened.

-You liar! You're lying! Don't tell us you can see spirits in Beys or whatnot! That's not true and you know it! You're just trying to take space in the spotlight! You ain't Zac or Valt or Shu or big shots! You're just like us! Liar!

If they were several or one voice, it's hard to recall. They would almost make some kind of disgust for Beyblade weedily blossom in your being, whether it be your bones or brain. So you went away. Perhaps they'll think it over. Maybe they'll stop talking to you. You cannot know for sure as for now.  You may have gotten lost amongst this huge world, with only a Beyblade you're not sure you cannot trust anymore. The world sure looks bigger. Looming over. A circle of blue, yet not a circle. A kind of Jörmugandr, and yet not an ouroboros either. But you saw something. For sure! Valt Aoi, Shu Kurenai, Free de la Hoya saw it too. Not yours especially. But them. They said they've seen theirs. And you've seen them too. Their descriptions match. So you are not hallucinating. You may have, before. You may someday. But now...?

Where are you? Where were you? That wasn't grass and tiny stadiums anymore. Or at least, you don't see them. Big chunks of concrete. Big vertical chunks of concrete. Chunks of glass, stuck to it. Chunks of tar on the ground. Chunks of paint on it. Chunks of blue high above, perhaps further. Chunks, chunks, chunks? Probably chunks of Beyblade somewhere. No... Not chunks. They're not chunks. They have a spirit, right? You didn't hallucinate, did you? You didn't, for sure. So, they aren't chunks. Perhaps everything is a chunk right now. But it ain't going to last. Soon they won't be chunks anymore. You look at your Beyblade. She shines. "It" doesn't shine. She shines. Yep, for sure, she glitters, she glimmers, she shines, she radiates.

-Oh... Is it possible that... No. You are a Blader, right?

A chunk of voice... Nope. A soft, or maybe a, bit deep, voice. Red eyes. Yes, the one facing you sure has two red eyes you have known for a while. Was he part of the reason you first started Beyblade? Probably not. You didn't like him at first, after all. Kurenai Shu had been arrogant, and somehow condescending at some point. To the point where he lost himself. But he had been better and better during all of these years as well. So this white hair didn't look like a chunk of bone anymore. His black coat sure had gone smaller over the years, especially since the last time he wore it, he seemed much younger. What have you answered, already? He just took your hand. He seemed sad, somehow. White, white skin. Will it become pearly? Jellyfish-like?

-Hey, come on. You are a Blader, but you don't seem like playing Beyblade right now, right? Let us walk a bit, shall we?

It wasn't like being alone in that situation would have been any better, anyway. Even if he was older, he could have been stupid, sure. But he had learned about the Blading Spirit and passion, after all. ... Maybe his scar was redder than ever, and yet perfectly delimited. Or the other way around. Chunks of green. Small pieces of grass, yes. "Blades of grass"...

Ferris wheels. Toy horses. Music.

-Ah, maybe you did not want to hear that much noise, considering you were seeking peace. We'll just be going through. Is it alright with you?

A Blader inviting you to some kind of amusement park then cancelling his plans sure sounded like a hoax. Especially coming from Shu Kurenai. Although that could have been Akaba Aiga, Valt Aoi... who knows whom. You walked along. He walked along. Chunks again, or pure things. The ferris wheel sure was full of people. And there were... lights everywhere. Blue, red, pink, purple, green, orange, yellow, at least. One, two, three... one, two, three. Two x three, perhaps. And three x one, maybe. Furthermore, one x two? It was very likely possible to count all of them. For sure. It would take time, yeah. Not that much with someone... Well, maybe still a while, but still, divided by two at least. Horses, cows, perhaps foxes and mascots, were working on the carrousel.

-Be careful. If you were to collide, you may end up falling and losing your Bey.... She would be sad, wouldn't she?

A sorrel horse. By decaying yet shining paint covered. The glittering color was still on his wood body, no matter how rot tried to grab him. Someone would paint him over, with the exact same hue. And the chestnut horse, or perhaps foal, would live on. Partnership would keep his black, almond eyes, alive. His barely pointy hoofs were tainted by lustruous black. His sorrel mane seemed made of ropes, somehow. He disappeared at the other end of the carrousel's globe.

You... reached the end of the soon-to-rotate-in-time amusement park. The numerous, rainbow-like, lights were in your back, now. For sure, they were. Some of them kept on lighting the way, yours, and Shu's. Probably 5 of them, yes. A red one, a blue one, another red one, a purple one, a green one. Five of them. That you could shake off. That you could count for sure. As long as there was... someone by your side. But these "someone" could as well make mistakes...

-My, my! Would you see that... The Moon Thief!

-Ciel, ciel! Would you see that... Le Blader Justicier!

A smoothy-haired silhouette projected on the wall, from the right, maybe. A spiky-haired silhouette projected on the wall, from the left maybe. Shu didn't move, and you neither. The first one, yes, the first one, for sure, clad in large clothes, breathing darkness onto the wall. The second one, shielded by short, usually tight clothes. Two known voices. The voice of the night, of the almost-silence, of the polite writing. The voice of the day, overflowing, of the short writing. Large, indecisive, rounded gloves of the softness of the clouds. Sharp, thin, fingers facing the sun.

-My mask is my true self, not what I aspire to.

-My mask is what I aspire to be, not myself still.

-Without her, I can't hope to understand you, shiny faker.

-Without her, I can't hope to understand you, nasty Lupin.

-My brother, yet not quite.

-My brother, yet not quite!

The thief moved as a bird on the wall, was a stork. The idol dropped as an owl. They reached out as ravens, walked back as sparrows. Took off their Beyblades. They took each other's hands, and disappeared, jumping or dropping again.

-I thought it would be interesting not to interrupt them. I hope you understand.

You nodded. You sure did understand what the hell these two clowns were doing. Because they probably weren't clowns.

-I see I wasn't wrong about you. Well, then...

Five of his soft, devoid of gloves, fingers clasped around yours. Not the same, not the same, not the same. Hands of bladers, hands of bladers, hands of bladers. He smiled, definitely. He smiled, definitely, to you. Eyes of red, asking you several things, but only two in the end.

Being Mick Foleys daughter had its perks. Getting to go backstage at Live Events and TV, meeting all the talent, making some kick ass friends. But despite all of the perks, it did have its downfalls. People would sometimes become scared to approach you, because they were afraid what you might think of them or how you may react; and being Mick Foleys daughter, the talent cant afford to be in your bad books.

 The first time you went backstage, you couldn’t of been more nervous. You were super shy, so when your dad left you to go to meetings and such, you just sat on a crate and tried to avoid eye contact with anyone who walked past you. The first person who made the effort to speak to you was none other than the Swiss Superman, Cesaro.

 “Hey, are you lost?” You recall him saying.

You looked up to see a smiling face, gorgeous brown eyes looking into yours.

“Oh, um, no, I, um..” You’d stammered.

“I’m Cesaro, you seem nervous” he laughed.

“I know you are, I mean, it’s just cause-“ you stopped mid sentence and sighed. “Hi, I’m (Y/N), Mick Foleys daughter.”

 The conversation between the two of you stemmed from there, you two talking for over an hour until he got called away for his match. Even after his match, he looked for you wanting to know if you’d watched, seemingly seeking your approval.

 Since you first met Cesaro over a year ago, you’d started travelling with your dad, going backstage every week, getting a feel for the business. You and Cesaro grew closer and closer, every now and then you not riding with your dad after the show so that you and Cesaro could ride to the hotels together.

 Cesaro was so charming and sweet, you couldn’t help but develop feelings for him. He’d been the first person to speak to you backstage at the WWE, and he wasn’t afraid of you because you were Mick’s daughter – or worse, use you because of it.

Some people had their issues with your dad. One of those people being  Luke Gallows. Luke thought that him and Karl should be the top guys in the WWE, making the Raw Tag Team championships better than any other. Today, he had a particularly short fuse. He’d just found out that his match at Wrestlemania has just become a triple threat match with Sheamus and Cesaro and not only a triple threat, a ladder match. You were walking down the corridor on your phone, texting your friend Bayley to find out where she was, when all of a sudden Luke came storming down the corridor.

 He pushed you hard against the wall, trapping you between the wall and his body.

“This is because of you,  isn’t it?!” he growled under his breath.

“Wh-what? N-no I had nothing to do with it…”

“Shut up! Of course you did! You’ve done it for your little boyfriend Cesaro”

“N-no, Cesaro isn’t my-“

 Out of nowhere, Luke is thrown off you by an enraged Cesaro.

“Go anywhere near her again, and I’ll do everything in my power to get you fired.” Cesaro said in a malicious tone.

Luke stood up, squaring off with Cesaro for a few seconds before slinking away. Turning to you, Cesaro paced towards you taking you in his arms, holding you tight.

“Are you okay?” he breathes into your hair.

“Yeah… I’m fine. I’ve never seen you that angry before”

“You’re like my…sister. I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

“Thank you” your phone buzzed in your hand. “I gotta go” you say quickly, walking away without another word.

 The next week at Raw, and what Cesaro had said to you was still ringing in your ears. Well, not so much what he said. The word he used. ‘Sister’. Sister was not what you wanted to be to Cesaro. Pacing up and down the corridor, you run your hands through your hair.

“Ugh!” You sigh loudly.

“I should of kissed him” You say to yourself. “There and then, I should of kissed him. I should of took his face in my hands and said to him, Cesaro, I love you. I’ve loved you for so long. You make me feel like a queen. You’re protective, charming, sweet, caring, and you make me feel alive. I want to be with you, more than I’ve ever wanted anything.” You finish ranting to yourself by letting out another big sigh and hanging your head.

“(Y/N), what did you just say?”

 You stop dead in your tracks. You physically feel all the colour drain from your face as your turn around and see Cesaro stood behind you, a sheepish smile on his face.  

“Bayley said I’d find you here…” he starts.

“Cesaro, what I just said it wasn’t anything you were supposed to hear I mean you think of me as a sist-“

“(Y/N), stop.”

You immediately stop talking, putting your hands by your sides and hanging your head again like a toddler who has just been told off.  Cesaro approached you slowly, placing a hand on your cheek and lifting your head up to look into your eyes.

“You see me as a sister” you finish, looking down at the floor, refusing to continue the eye contact.

“(Y/N), I said that because I thought you saw me as a brother, and I didn’t want to make things…weird between us. I love how we are”

You sigh again, pulling away from his grip. “Exactly. You love us how we are”

you say flatly.

 “You didn’t let me finish” he says slowly. Turning around, you make the eye contact you avoided moments ago. “I love how we are, yes. You’re my best friend, I tell you everything and there’s nothing we can’t talk about. You make me laugh, and I like that although everyone thinks you’re so shy, as I got to know you, you’re the loudest, goofiest person I know.”

You fold your arms and laugh. “I’m not goofy” you say sarcastically.

“Whatever you say, (Y/N). I love all that. But I don’t love that you aren’t mine. I..I want you to be mine. I love you. And in your words” he takes your face in his hands once more. “I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anything.”

“Cesaro…”

 He stops you before you say anything else, planting a soft kiss on your lips.

“You’re mine, nobody elses, deal?” He smiles, holding out his hand.

You slide your hand into his and shake it.