LET BLACK GIRLS BE WEIRD

CALL ME COOLEY!!!!

About me: My name's Cooley, or you can call me l0s3rd0wnt0wn. I'm 19 years old, and I just graduated highschool this year. WOOOHOOOO! I like manga, anime, comic books, and cartoons; plus, I draw. I'm well known for my neglected WB!Reader works, but I'll write anything and everything.

heres my master list of the bullshit I've written over the years!!!

Beginning of an era

Beginning of an era 2

Smutty works

All new stuff

Cooley note: ben is apart of young justice and and your mentor is hal Jordan and he does not like Ben at all!!! (He thinks you can do better)

Ben was never one for team-ups. He liked doing things solo less drama, fewer rules, and no one to tell him what to do. But ever since he heard that you were part of Young Justice, he’d made an exception. He joined the team for one reason only: to get your attention.

And he sure as hell did.

Three months and three weeks later, you were officially his girlfriend a total score for Ben Tennyson. After all, he’d landed a hot babe with superpowers and a color scheme that matched his own favorite color: green. What more could a guy ask for? You even laughed at his terrible jokes, which, in Ben’s book, made it a win-win-win situation.

Today was the day you were coming back from your long mission—a week-long tour around the galaxy with your mentor, Hal Jordan. Ben could hardly wait for you to return to Earth. He had everything planned: movie tickets to your favorite film, a long date, and maybe even a few surprises along the way. The Young Justice team was already throwing a welcome-back party in your honor.

Then he saw you.

He’d recognize that green aura anywhere—that celestial, soft glow that matched the color of his own eyes. It was like the universe had decided the two of you were meant to be. You were surrounded by your teammates, laughter and cheers filling the air, while Ben stood in the back, trying to look nonchalant. He shoved his hands into his pockets, pretending he wasn’t dying to run up and pull you into his arms.

But you caught him.

You saw right through his act—the way his lips twitched, the way his eyes softened when they met yours. Without hesitation, you bolted toward him in a streak of green light, wrapping your arms around him like he was your lifeline.

“You too cool to say hi to me now?” you teased, voice muffled against his chest.

Ben melted instantly, his arms tightening around you. “What? No way. Just wanted to look cool for you, ya know…” His cheeks flushed pink, freckles doing nothing to hide the warmth spreading across his face.

You hummed playfully. “Hmm, if you’re going to act all cool like you don’t care, I might as well go back up into orbit.”

You started to float upward, but Ben reacted fast, grabbing your waist and pulling you back down until your feet touched the ground again. His arms wrapped around you tighter this time, his head tucked into your shoulder and curls.

“Being cool is overrated,” he mumbled against your skin.

You giggled softly, feeling him pull back just enough to meet your eyes. The moment lingered—his gaze flicking to your lips, yours to his. He leaned in, and you did too, the world fading around you.

Then a sudden flash of green light flared between you, forming a glowing barrier.

“Make room for Jesus, kids,” came a familiar voice.

Hal stood a few feet away, arms crossed, a cocky smirk plastered on his face. But the red tint on his ears betrayed him he was absolutely fuming. Being a Green Lantern was stressful enough, but Ben Tennyson? He was the reason those gray hairs were coming in waves.

Ben stepped back, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. “Uh… hey, sir.”

Hal sighed, muttering something about “teenagers and their hormones” before turning away.

You looked back at Ben, biting back a laugh. He grinned sheepishly, eyes sparkling.

“Still worth it,” he whispered.

Cooley note: wb!reader is to scared to show her braces to the batboys( Platonic batboys x fem wb!reader)

You shook your head profusely as your brothers continued to be meddlesome. It's been two weeks since you got your braces, and you hadn't shown anyone not even your own family. You'd been wearing a face mask to school and at home since the day you got them.

You're not one to be insecure, but God, you look like a dork with these on. Not to mention you already look like a dummy with your glasses the braces just add another layer of stupidity to it. You were so sure of it: you were going to get bullied no matter what. Not to mention your brothers would laugh and start picking on you and teasing you like they always do. Sure, it's only for fun, but you weren't ready for that. Plus, these braces are already hard to manage as it is—the constant brushing and flossing. Your brothers' added humiliation would tear you down even more.

Until, well, they all surrounded you like a band of hawks.

"Come on, sweetie, just let us see that smile." Dick had been persisting for so long, trying to get your guard down so you'd take off the mask and show your teeth. He'd been bribing you with sweets and treats all that type of stuff. Now, it would have worked, but you can't eat those anymore. And even if you could, you refuse to fall for it.

"I bet it looks real cute on you," Jason tried. But he was the same person who made fun of you for your glasses, so what makes you think he won't make fun of you for your teeth? You shook your head to the side where your face was by Tim.

"You're being a big baby, [Name]. Come on, you're not some beast—you're our little sister." Well, you feel like some hideous creature, so you might as well be.

"Just one peek, sunshine, and we'll leave you alone." Lies coming from Duke. The second you take this mask off, they'll be all over you you just know it.

Damian was saying "please" in Arabic, and that was your one weakness when he put on his cute little brother voice and acted all innocent. But you still wouldn't budge. No matter what, you would not allow it. You would not be pressured and bullied into showing your teeth.

Then Bruce came into the living room. "What's with all this commotion?"

They all let out an exaggerated sigh. "She won't let us see her braces, and it's been two weeks now wearing that face mask. I mean, look at her." Dick pointed over to you. You would be pouting, but the mask covered a lot.

"Hmmm, I see..." Bruce came up to you and cupped your cheeks. "[Name], you're a beautiful girl—I'm sure you know that. I think it's time for us to see that smile of yours." Then Bruce leaned in. "I spent ten grand on getting you the best orthodontist in the world. Now, that may be pocket change compared to me, but this is no joke, missy. I need to see that smile that I paid for," he whispered straight into your ear.

Dad-mode Bruce was honestly the worst version of him.

He pulled away like a sweet and doting father. "Well, let's see that smile, pretty girl."

Your hands slowly came up to take off the face mask, and you slowly peeled it off. Your lips were closed.

"Come on, [Name], we don't have all day," Jason rushed, only to get a shove from Damian.

And so you smiled a shy one, a soft one. The smile where your eyes get a little squinty and your nose turns up just a little.

And they stared like they'd seen an angel in person. All their phones came out.

"Hey! You said smile, not pictures!"

Cooley note: miles can pout and he thinks he can get away with anything trick question HE CAN (Miles Morales x Gn!reader)

Those pretty brown eyes looking up at you like you're the only person in the world that matters. Those pouty lips that look like they need a kiss, but they're actually begging for way more. Then his eyebrows arch in a way that makes your guard fall down immediately with little to no trouble at all. He's a damn powerhouse with that face, and he knows it.

Then the voice: "Please, baby..." in a whiny voice you couldn't possibly ignore. You lean away, but he leans closer. "Come on, I said the magic word. Just this one time for me." He starts to do the cat thing where he nuzzles into you, and a violent shiver racks your body, leaving you weak. But you must hold strong. You won't be tempted by a cute boy with an even cuter pout.

Then: "¿Ya no me quieres?" The Spanish. The damn Spanish. You don't even know what he said, but in that pouty and sad voice, it was definitely something so very not good. God, you should've taken those Duolingo classes. You turn your head away to avoid that cute face of his. Ahhh, he shines like a literal sunflower!!!

Cooley note: training with your boyfriend who's way to distracted by your body (Sokka x Male!reader)

You watch Sokka charge at you, shouting a Southern Water Tribe battle cry. You could only smirk and dodge his sword, swiftly turning your opponent's blade against him. Taking your sword and swiftly knocking his own out of his hand, you twisted your body around like you were ready to cut him down, then you stopped right at his neck, dropping your blade on the ground.

"One for the Earth Kingdom and zero for the Water Tribe, and the crowd goes wild!" You pretend there's a fake crowd chanting your name. Then suddenly—THWAK!

"Oh yeah? Let's see if you can handle a tussle, little prince!" Sokka tackled you to the ground. Usually after a sparring loss, he gets sulky and you'll have to cheer him up, but ever since you started boasting after every win, his competitive side is starting to flare more like an angry cabbage farmer.

"Hey, that's not fair! This is sword fighting day!"

"Oh yeah? Says who?" Sokka laughs in your face as the both of you wrestle, trying to get a one-up on the other. Then he had you pinned down to the ground, him atop his first win in a while. But before your beloved could rub it in your face, he stared down at you, mesmerized. Your shirt had ridden up, showing those perfect muscles of yours, the ones only a prince can have. The dazed look in your eyes, as if you were waiting for something. The way your cheeks flushed a small pink that could only be noticed by him.

"That was humiliating..." you grumbled. You hated being on your back like this, showing this kind of submission to anyone. It would leave you a mess, especially to him.

"Humiliating? Hmm, more like cute, handsome, and under me," Sokka chuckles, getting closer to you. "How am I gonna take my win when you look like, well... this?"

You frowned, eyes averting his. "That wasn't a fair win..."

Sokka sighs, rolling his eyes. "Only a prince would think of good sportsmanship when he's like this." He leans even closer till you're both chest to chest, your warm breaths mingling. "Let me take this win, pretty prince." And a warm kiss gets pressed to your lips.

Cooley note: Andrew "Andy" January or starlight your sweet superhero bf who doesn't know your apart of the boys (to lazy to mission I'll make a part two)

Andy—oh, Andy. He’s a hero. A genuine hero. Not some fake, plastic bullshit like Homelander, but a real one. A sweet, kind, and contradictory hero. Andy always wanted to be a hero; he always wanted to help people. Even when he was young and part of the junior superhero team, he still wanted to make a difference. Even when some of the work was just for show, it never stopped him.

Andy competed in a few boy pageants when he was a kid and a teenager. He won every year how could he not? He was beautiful. He was perfect. Soft blonde hair that shimmered like blades of golden starlight, light brown eyes that turned gold when he was slightly frustrated. He was perfect in the eyes of his parents, his former teammates, and everyone in his town. So very perfect. A boy scout. A true hero in every sense.

Andy grew up Christian, believing that all good things come to those who are good and he was good. His powers, he believed, were given to him by God himself so he could be a good boy and help people. But the truth was far less divine. Andy wasn’t blessed by heaven; he was manufactured by Vought. His powers didn’t come from God they came from a gamble his parents made, a desperate bid for wealth and status.

Andy got into The Seven because of his interview. He was ecstatic—finally, he could be a real hero. He could protect others, help people, make a difference. But then everything fell apart. Everything he’d ever known began to crumble.

His hero, The Deep the one whose poster hung on his apartment wall turned out to be a fraud who used people for sex. Homelander, the man he saw as a beacon of truth, was nothing more than a narcissistic asshole who only cared about himself. A-Train, once his friend, was too scared to stand up for him. Maeve gave him some respect, but even she wasn’t the hero he thought she was.

Andy was going through it bad. He wanted to rip the cross off his hero suit and stomp it into the ground. If this was what being a hero meant, he’d rather die.

Then came the fire. The moment that changed everything.

He saved someone from a burning building against Vought’s orders. And the way that person looked at him, like he was their hope, made him feel like an actual hero. A real, honest hero.

When reporters swarmed him afterward, shouting questions and praise, the person he saved barely conscious had to ask his name before the ambulance took them away. Andy pushed through the cameras and microphones, his voice steady and sure.

“Starlight. That’s my name. It’s Starlight.”

MALE!VIOLET PARR WHO HAS AN UNCANNY OBESSION FOR A SUPER VILLAIN

Cooley note: Victor "Vinny" Parr is your weird, socially awkward classmate. It's surprising that he's a confident hero who's obsessed with a cute supervillain. YOU!

Victor is, well, Victor. He’s not particularly popular, and he doesn’t stand out much mostly because he doesn’t want to. Attention can be dangerous, especially the wrong kind. And for someone like him, a hero trying to keep his identity hidden, too much attention could be disastrous.

He’s not exactly handsome, but he’s far from plain. His dark black hair catches hints of violet under the sun, and his eyes hold a faint, soft glow of the same hue. If he ever decided to put in a little effort change up his look, wear something other than oversized sweaters and hoodies, maybe tie his hair back he’d easily be the most striking boy in school.

Still, Victor doesn’t mind blending in. He has a small circle of friends, and that’s enough for him. But when he becomes Vi (short for Invisible) everything changes. The quiet, reserved boy transforms into someone bold, confident, and sharp-edged. Vi moves with purpose, speaks with certainty, and carries himself with a force that Victor could never pull off in daylight. The mask doesn’t just hide his face; it frees him.

At school, he’s Victor. To his fellow heroes and his family, he’s Vi. But to one person you he’s something else entirely. You see through the invisibility, through the force fields and the walls he builds. You see him.

You could be his nemesis.

Or you could be his lover.

Please, be his lover.

"Oh, excuse me are you, well, uhm, [name]?" he asked, voice soft and uncertain, putting up a small, nervous front. He tucked a strand of long, dark hair behind his ear, shrinking into himself as if trying not to take up too much space.

"I'm, uhm, Victor. Victor Parr. Part of the yearbook committee, and, well, my team hasn’t gotten your picture yet, so… uhm, can I take one of you?"

You exhaled, already tired of the conversation. "I don’t take pictures for the yearbook. I’m already in the class of 20**. Why would I do any other picture?"

You rolled your eyes, but Victor only laughed softly. "Yeah, I know. But, well… the pictures I got of you aren’t exactly school appropriate."

Something in his tone shifted his shy demeanor cracking just enough to let something sharper slip through. A cocky smile tugged at his lips as he slid a few photos across your desk.

Your stomach dropped. The images showed you in your supervillain costume caught mid-destruction, chaos blooming behind you, millions in property damage you’d never pay for. You tried to play it cool, but a bead of sweat betrayed you.

"I’m sorry," you said, forcing a laugh. "Did you just compare me to a super terrorist? The one robbing banks downtown? Geez, no wonder you don’t have any friends, weirdo."

You pushed back your chair, ready to leave, but his hand shot out, stopping you. Another photo hit the desk his one of you in an alleyway, mask half-off, your face unmistakable.

"This isn’t you, huh?" he said, voice low and teasing. "These aren’t your eyes? That’s not your cute little round nose? And—oops—your mask."

He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled it out, your mask dangling from his fingers. "For someone so smart and wicked, you can be a pretty sloppy girl." He rubbed the fabric between his fingers, eyes glinting. "You ran away from me so fast I could hardly speak."

Your pulse spiked. "What do you want? Who the hell are you?!"

He chuckled, slipping a hand into his pocket again. When it came out, he was holding a sleek black mask. He placed it over his face, pushing his dark hair back with a smirk that was all confidence now.

"Hands up," he said, voice dropping into something dangerous. "You’re under arrest."

Your ready to run, but he laughs again.

"I'm not gonna arrest you. I wanna ask you out on a date, and there's no better way than to, well—"

"Blackmail me,"

MARK AND HIS NINJAHOLIC BOYFRIEND

Cooley note: the disowned ninja prince who refused to marry and rather be a beer drinking kunai throwing alcoholic hero maybe? (Mark grayson x male ninja!reader)

The first time Mark met you, he was tied to a chair in a warehouse that smelled like rust and rain. His captor lean, masked, and humming off-key—had just finished counting a stack of bills when they sighed, tossed the money aside, and muttered, “Client didn’t pay the full amount. Guess you’re free, hot stuff.”

They cut the chains dow with a flick of a blade, smirking as Mark stretched his body. “Sorry about that, didn’t mean to put you through all that bondage today. Cute boys look good tied up, you know what I mean?”

Mark didn’t know whether to run or laugh. He did neither. When you offered to buy him a drink, for the trouble he said yes.

Now, months later, Mark sat in a dim bar watching that same morally ambiguous ninja his morally ambiguous ninjabbelt out a karaoke rendition of a pop song with the enthusiasm of a tipsy god. Your voice cracked halfway through the chorus, but the grin never faltered.

You were a lightweight, a dangerous contradiction of steel and softness. One drink too many and they’d end up blackout drunk, sprawled across Mark’s dorm bed in nothing but boxers, mumbling in Japanese about the moon and love and how his hair smelled like summer rain.

Mark should have been horrified. Instead, he was obsessed.

Your not a hero. Not really. You killed sometimes mercifully, sometimes brutally. Mark had seen the aftermath: blood on your hands, eyes sharp and unreadable. And yet, when you turned to him, something in your expression softened.

He hated how much he liked it. How much he liked you.

You wrote him poems on napkins, whispered sweet nonsense in Japanese, and laughed at his attempts to debunk ninja myths.

“Yes, ninjutsu is real,” you'd say, rolling your eyes. “No, I can’t do a Rasengan. That’s anime, babe.”

The Guardians the city’s shining superhero team adored you. They called you an “asset,” a “wild card,” a “necessary evil.” Mark couldn’t help but feel a sting of jealousy. It had taken him years to earn their approval, and even then, he never quite fit in.

Not in high school. Not in the superhero world. Not anywhere.

But then you came back after a drinking-off with Immortal and putting Rex in a headlock, (showing him real material arts) half-drunk and ranting.

“These are the guys you’ve been so hung up about trying to impress? Jesus, baby, you’re twice as cool as any of them combined. I’d rather drink with a snapping turtle than an Immortal again. That dude’s a douchebag. How do you deal with it?”

Mark blinked, caught between laughter and awe.

“What’s with that face?” you teased, leaning close, eyes glinting under the bar lights. “Come on, I’m only here for this gathering for you.”

And just like that, Mark’s world tilted.

The Guardians, the fame, the expectations all of it faded into background noise.

Because sitting there, drunk and radiant, was his chaotic, bloodstained, poetry-writing ninja prince.

Cooley note: You're the worst supervillain, a laughing stock of the supervillain community, but to him, you're the best.

Tim

He dismantled one of your doomsday devices you’d been planning for weeks. He did it in under ten seconds, right in front of all your henchmen. Utterly humiliating. He made a complete fool of you. “Next time, make sure the red wire isn’t so obvious on the main circuit board,” he’d said.

When the two of you got home, he was patting your back as you cried into your pillow on your shared bed. “I’m the worst villain to have ever lived! I’m such a dummy! even those dumbest of minions know this!” you squealed into your pillow, tears streaming down your face.

Tim tried his best to get you out of your mood. He hadn’t meant to embarrass you honestly. “But hey, you did trick me pretty well, baby. I mean, sending me on that wild goose chase with those clues was pretty smart.”

Your ears perked up as you lifted your head from the pillow. “Really?” you asked, sniffling.

“Yes, really,” Tim said, picking you up and placing you in his lap. “So what if you made a little slip? Even the best villains forget to flip the ‘on’ switch on their weapons.” He pressed a sweet kiss to your lips. “You did just fine.”

Duke

Duke chased you down inside your shared apartment. You were wearing his jacket because his stupid self had decided to use his light powers on you during a fight, completely ripping your costume and embarrassing you in front of your goons. You were supposed to give off a powerful, villainous persona, but he completely shredded that to pieces when he shredded your suit to pieces.

“Come on, love—sunflower, I’m sorry! Didn’t mean to aim for all of you, yeah? I just didn’t want to hurt you!” he pleaded.

You growled back at him, your face dark with a blush. “And destroy my entire uniform? What am I going to tell the rest of the supervillain committee that I got humiliated like this? I’d rather get beaten to a pulp than show my face ever again!”

You slammed the bedroom door right in front of his face. How in the world could he make this up to you? What could he possibly do?

“Hey, how about this you can do a stunt where you capture me, tie me up, you know, nice little ball gag and all that. That way your whole supervillain persona stays intact?” he said through the bedroom door, hoping it would work. He couldn’t spend the night on the couch; he wasn’t meant for loneliness or being away from you.

The door slowly creaked open. “All right, but you’ll tell all your vigilante and superhero buddies that I caught you!” you ordered, a big pout on your face.

He smiled, knowing he’d rather be the one embarrassed than you.

Damian

He hardly treats you like the hardened supervillain you are more like a cute little thorn in his side that he can’t help but keep around. Honestly, he should just take you to prison, put you in a cell, and throw away the key. But God, you’re so cute when you try to act menacing.

Every time you come up with some evil plan, you get so excited explaining it that you end up accidentally giving away the secret to defeating you.

“And for my ultimate plan, I will mind-control the entirety of Gotham through their screens! The entire upper echelon of downtown Gotham will be mine! What do you have to say for yourself, Batman?”

Damian can only clap his hands, impressed. “That is amazing, beloved—but you need not forget, you shouldn’t plug all your appliances into one outlet.”

Your entire secret base short-circuits and shuts down, leaving the two of you in the dark.

“But that was a clever plan—”

“Oh, shut up.”

Cool note: You're a new superhero in town, and you're not really the best. You're always getting captured, and your suit's always ripping. But hey, at least your boyfriend thinks you're the best. (TW: suggestive, bandage, reader always getting kidnapped) Batboys x fem superhero!reader

Bruce

He thinks you're the cutest little thing on the planet. You were pretty much brand new to the Justice League and to crime-fighting in general which made it pretty easy for you to get caught up. You were the go-to hostage for any villain’s plan. You even earned the nickname of being a D-list superhero among his rogues’ gallery.

If Batman isn’t around, just stop crime then who will? If it were Superman, they’d tuck their tails between their legs and scatter off. But when it’s you, it’s not even worth it. It’s embarrassing how they don’t see you as worth the trouble. You’re just as good as any other hero well, not really, but kind of.

But Bruce sees promise in you. He sees a bright young woman just trying to figure it all out, and he’ll happily help you no matter what you’re doing.

“Did you see it, Mr. Batman, sir? I took down at least five goons! I mean, they ripped my suit in the process, but I took down five! Ahhh!” you squealed excitedly, jumping up and down in front of him. Your suit was ripped and torn to shreds while Bruce’s cape was draped over your body. You were so excited you finally had a successful superhero outing! At this rate, everyone would respect you.

“That was lovely, darling. Now please calm down; you’re going to rip your fabric again…”

You blushed, letting out a soft giggle. “Oh yeah, that. Whoops.”

He completely adores you and all your silly little shenanigans. Even if you’re not the greatest hero, you’re the best in his eyes.

Dick

You were bait again. Stupid Outsiders and their stupid plans with their stupid ideas for taking down stupid villains that go down—pretty easily by yours truly, Nightwing, your A-list superhero boyfriend. Or vigilante. You get it quite mixed up. He comes near you with a wink, making you huff and look away from him. You're tied up to a stupid chair with a gag around your mouth. You look like some type of pin-up girl, your suit tattered and destroyed, leaving little to the imagination not like it did in the first place.

"Oh baby, don't give me that look. You did amazing," he said in that sickeningly sweet tone as he kissed you on your cheek as he removes the gag from your lips.

"You used me as bait!" you grumbled, scooting yourself away from him, making him struggle to try and get the ropes off your body. "Why do I always have to be bait? Why can't I help?"

Dick smirks. "But you're the most amazing bait in the world—and the cutest too. No supervillain would resist kidnapping you, so that's why you're bait. And plus," he pressed a kiss to your forehead, "even then, I'll reel you in before you could get hurt like a worm and a fisherman’s hook!"

Okay, sure, that all sounded sweet, but "Did you just compare me to a worm?!"

Jason

Jason doesn’t like superheroes all that much. To be honest, he doesn’t like them at all. But you are his favorite superhero, even if the rest of the superhero world thinks you’re a D-list hero. You’re S-tier to him.

“Can you believe he took all the shine for my work? He didn’t do a damn thing! I was the one who saved the hostages, not him,” you whined as you leaned up against Jason’s chest. The two of you were in the living room watching the live TV news. One of your “teammates” had taken all the credit for a mission you planned and created. “How come when I do something amazing, nobody sees it? But when he does something amazing, everybody watches? It’s not fair.” You sniffled just a little, tucking your head into his neck.

“It’s okay, ma. You did it ’cause you wanted to help others. You didn’t do it for fame or money or any kind of crap. You did it ’cause you thought it was right, and that’s all that matters, doesn’t it?”

You started to beam. A big smile was plastered on your face. “To me, you’re stronger and braver than any of those bitches combined!”

You smiled so hard that you began to bite your bottom lip. “EEEK! Jason, you’re the best!”

Then the next week came along.

“Can you believe it? My teammate was caught hanging by his foot in a warehouse by some crazy masked vigilante!”

Jason made a face of curiosity, shaving off the rest of his morning scruff. “I guess what goes around comes around, doesn’t it, baby?” he yelled over to you from the bathroom.

“Yeah, but who the hell is the Red Hood?”

Bro Argentina mad rasict some of the people chill but if I were to step in that country 90% percent chance Ill get called a slur or get shot plus the government mad fucked up also all over Twitter Argentinian fans and people have been so mean and cruel during the world cup that its just gross (like genuine rasict and gross shit i couldn't see from a southern Floridian) I dont mess with Argentina like I dont mess with the French not all of them evil but a whole lot them are

Also messi is a rapist sooo

OOH MLP!!! I mean sure but do want genderbent main six x reader or yandere main six x reader like or yandre genderbent main six x reader like what we working with???

umamusume? I mean sure why not I like goishi

KENDRICK IS PREGNANT WITH MY TRIPLETS!! AAAAH

But yes I cant wait to read all these chapters you know how you wait for manga or an anime to have enough season or episodes or chapters so you can binge it later I GOT SOME TO KEEP UP ON!!

I hope baby girl Milton gets a bull to fall deeply in love with or a farmer