#random panic attacks

[boarloved-art]

Wei Wuxian should be able to get drunk for once. I think he'd either be singing bawdy drinking songs on the roof of the Jingshi or he'd be getting irrevocably lost no matter where he is. He's found in the bushes behind the mountains like a cryptid, and then he's like "I can't believe you all got lost" (extremely slurred) as if he didn't get embarrassed by something Lan Wangji had said and just somehow disappeared when everyone looked back at him

oh ABSOLUTELY im walking with u and nodding and agreeing, i can see him becoming an absolute menace to keep track of at his drunkest.

anyway heres wonderwall The Gang (Wangxian & their fave group of ducklings) in a city known for its STRONG wine and wuxian being like well. ur all grown now, youre technically not juniors anymore. we have to see whos lasting the longest against this stuff!, smash cut to a suspiciously wei ying-less group of the worlds drunkest cultivators being wrangled through the woods by designated driver hanguang-jun, with at least 2 of them clinging to his robes at all times.

[bluerosefox]

Saying Sorry Will Never Be Enough

Feeling a bit angsty so I had this idea.

Danny is dating one of the Bats/Birds, and everything is going great, amazing even! They know each other secrets (from powers to everything etc), they have a wonderful place to live (even if its in Gotham), Danny is in college on the way to becoming a space engineer (and he does side jobs for unrestful ghosts), he's actually getting sleep again since leaving Amity Park, gets along with their friends and family (those who Danny or his partner still talk to, up to the writer), there is even talk about marriage and perhaps adoption/kids in the future between Danny and the Bat/Bird he's dating!

Everything is setting up for a good life in his future, something Danny didn't think could have after his accident. He was happy finally, and currently packing up his old apartment because he's moving in with his partner in a few days.

So he felt like his core was being pulled out of him when he opens his apartment door one day receiving a knock to find his parents, who had hadn't seen since they kicked him out of the house after coming clean about being Phantom (their words of anger and denial that their son was 'dead' and now a monster, still hurt)

Sure they didn't attack him or proclaim he's dead but still their last words and anger HURT.

Danny didn't give them a chance to open their mouths, both looking nervous and guilty, before he slams the door close and turns invisible, grabs his phone, and fly's out of his apartment to his partner's place in a panic attack.

His partner, isn't happy.

[dragonpyre]

Me: I've tried so many different ADHD meds but none of them every had any effect

BF's dad (a psychologist): I think you were misdiagnosed

Me:

Me: So I've been taking meth for no reason!?

[on-the-clear-blue]

Batman, sitting in a JL conference room, looking like he is about to throw up or spontaneously combust, (he got hit with some kinda spell in the battle and by God he can't wait till the debrief is done so he can go ask Rag-Man or Constantine to tell him what the fuck is wrong with him): Green Lantern, mediocre work once again, try to...hrnn...be better.

Superman, watching very concerned as Bruce is getting more and more pale but can't hear the trickle of bleeding or smell anything unusual with Bruce: B are you sure this can't wait till later? I am sure that we would be okay with-

Hal Jordan, snorting loudly: Spooky looks like he is about to shit himself Supes, I am pretty sure he finally realized he is just a guy in a costume!

Batman, giving his best bat galre: I have enough money to buy you. I can buy, oh god...I can buy a time...*labored breathing* time machine, use it to...to go back in time and fuck your mother so, shit...so I can be your father and leave you like you fucking deserve...

JL, jaws dropping as they had never seen Batman act like this: ...

Superman, standing up to help Bruce since he is clearly not doing well only can blink as he watches as the man starts to...shrink?: Oh no...

Bruce, batman regalia slowly growing looser, slipping off his head to reveal a much younger face: YOU ARE TEN POUNDS OF SHIT IN A ONE POUND BAG Y-YOU...You...where am I.

Oliver, sudden fear coursing through him: Oh god please not again, please don't be what I think it is...

Bruce "Brucie" Wanye, 15 years old, pure and utter jackass, rudest and most kind child, used to buy bars so he could get in for free and drink, that did so many random pills in the 90s: Who the fuck are you all? I don't think they had strippers that looked as fugly as you bitches...wait...did I get kidnapped? Oh god this is the worst, Alfie isn't going to let me live this down, kidnapped by guys dressed up as clowns...

Green Arrow, close to tears as his bully/best friend is brought back: Oh it's Brucie...fuck my life.

Flash, laughing his ass off: T-this..this is too good o-oh my god...

Brucie, looking down at himself: why am I dressed like a depressed Leather Daddy? (Looks up) Are we in space? (Pauses for a moment, looking mildly impressed) note to self, take my bathroom pills and go to space.

Oliver, picking up his phone while crying, reverting back to his old self: Mister A-Alfred? Um...Bruce ahh...he got reversed back to being like...15 and he is...yeah he is being mean again...you gotta make him stop...

[august-parker]

I think it'd be so funny if Tony gave peter an unreasonable amount of money all the time and Peter just became desensitized to it

He never has less than a four digit number of cash and nobody knows where the fuck he gets it.

Ned: hey do you have cash? I'm kinda hungry

Peter: oh yeah I have like $3,400 ish

Ned:

Peter:

Ned: are you dead-ass??

Peter on his birthday: oh you didn't have to get me this! I can pay you back :)

MJ who got him a lego set: don't worry about it, love you :)

Peter: let me pay you back, how much was it?

MJ as he pulls out $5000 from his pocket: oh you don't have to- WHAT THE FUCK PETER

Peter: aw damn it I left my card at home

Flash: as if you have anything on it

Peter paying for his and flashs stuff out of pure spite from nothing but pocket money:

Flash: THERE'S NO FUCKING WAY YOURE NOT A PROSTITUTE

[givemewallywestorgivemedeath]

Abso-fucking-lutely vibing with World's Finest: Teen Titans' addition of Karen as one of the founding members.

Because good fucking god, before this the team was two demigods, two billionaire teens and a Normal Kid™ in neon yellow BUT NOW?! Now it's two demigods, two billionaire teens and TWO Normal Kids™ in neon yellow!

No but seriously though Wally is the only one who has to like... mow the lawn and watch his neighbor's cat when they go away for the long weekend. He's the only one who knows how to mail a letter at the post office and how much pencils cost at a book fair. He's got superpowers and terrible parents and yet somehow he is the MOST NORMAL ONE THERE.

Which speaks volumes about the rest of them tbh.

But now!!! Karen and Wally get to be nerds ✨together✨ and they get free tickets to watch the trainwrecks that the other Teen Titans call life

Seriously though I think these two are aggressively trying to be friends with each other while also roleplaying their 'cool guy' hero personas, which is extremely funny to me. These two are absolute nerds with no friends in school and they are DESPERATE for a friend and they've just met but they've both decided "Yeah that one. That one is friend shaped"

Wally: you move too slow

Karen: learn how to fly dumbass

Anyway I love them

[salubriousbean]

I think I may have just had a panic attack. um.

[threepoint14art]

Baby hotline animatic! ft loowynn y nuestro oc Red :3

esto no tiene ningun sentido, pero voy a tratar de explicar mi locura bajo el corte lol :,3

Loowynn (and Owynn in general) is where I throw canon out the window and do whatever the hell I want. For Loowynn, that means they don’t meet and gradually get together over the course of the series. No, they start as an already established couple—because I love dysfunctional relationships, and I find it fun to explore why Owynn would even agree to this (spoiler: he’s stupid, and I hate him). Owynn, on the other hand, just has a god-awful life because I decided he should.

Loon and Owynn started dating over the phone—Loon in Japan, Owynn… wherever the hell the series takes place. Mostly because Owynn was already friends with Malva, they played games together, and one day Loon confessed. The idiot said, “lmao sure why not,” not even taking it seriously.

And then, to his utter dismay, he did start taking it seriously. Because, unfortunately, it fit too well with his insanity. He hates being seen as weak, hates his own femininity, hates losing control in interactions. He’s scared of romance. He’s scared of men. But over the phone, none of that matters. No one can touch him through a screen. He can let himself be “comforted” on bad days without looking pathetic—just bothering Loon and pretending he’s fine. No physical affection to deal with. It’s safe. And before he even realizes it, he’s completely attached.

Then Loon moves to LATAM. The long-awaited idol duo reunion. Everyone cheers. And suddenly, it’s a disaster. They have no clue how to navigate being in the same space. Loon is having the worst time of his life—new country, shitty Spanish, agoraphobia. Owynn, somehow, is also miserable. Without the phone as a barrier, everything feels too raw, too vulnerable. They’re together, but they aren’t close.

Loon tries to understand him without being invasive—he’s too scared to ask outright. Owynn refuses to share anything about himself unless he’s in a terrible mental state. They stay distant.

The yellow background at the start (when they’re only talking over the phone) represents Loon’s blood color. Harmless. Passable. Maybe a little scary. (Owynn was kind of intimidated by Loon in canon, so I get to have this. I love making owynn full of fear.)

Then, there are the three arthropods. Who the hell invited Red to the function lol. Scorpions are much bigger, and yet Owynn is still so full of fear. God, I hate him.

Then the colors shift—blue. Owynn’s blood color. "Flatline." His glasses are gone. His hair isn’t braided. His worst eye is covered. The message is clear: Oh right, this guy is mentally ill. His father makes him wear his hair that way to cover his eyes, like any other arthropod would. The braid symbolizes connection to life in his faith—so when he’s at his lowest, he stops wearing it. He ditches his glasses when he feels bad because, what’s the point? He’s going blind anyway.

Loon just looks scared. Confused. Taken aback. Because Owynn puts on this image of being untouchable, unstoppable. Always the best at everything. And yet, here he is, unstable. It’s strange to realize he has those fears.

A dead scorpion, it's pink, outlined in purple. Pink is tied to girlhood. Owynn’s hair was pink when he was younger. And he hates his past self. He hates the idea of being a weak little girl. He wants her dead.

The background is the same color as the scorpion. Ladybugs eat pests. Scorpions are a nuisance. Ladybugs were deemed holy—the bug of the lady. Loon is objectively a better person than Owynn. If someone were to see the most shameful part of him, it would be like killing "Owynn". And if anyone should get to do that, it should be Loon. See the worst version of him and hurt it until it doesn’t exist anymore.

Blue again, Owynn having that huge shadow. Enacting his plan which no one even understands. She in pink, if he's similar to "her" (if he's weak) he should die, so before he gets any softer he's gonna do what he has wanted to this whole time. Get trapped in the shadow world. One last act of destruction before disappearing completely. He doesn’t have the strength to kill himself, but he’s desperate enough to lay down in nothingness forever. Just stop moving forward.

He agreed to dating. Agreed to caring about Loon and Red. Because it was temporary. Because it didn’t matter how much softness rotted him from the inside if there was a deadline.

In his faith, black and white both mean death. He wears a full white suit, hair unbraided. Mocking everyone one last time. His tongue? Missing a chunk.

I mentioned he’s scared of romance and men. That’s because, when he was younger, he "dated" a guy. And that guy took the chunk out of his tongue. Kids can be insanely cruel. When his dad found out another kid just beat him up and bit off his toungue, all he had to say was that "men are like that" and that it was his fault for doing "adult things" when he was just a fragile little girl.

Later, he has fangs. His green eye is gone. That’s how he unconsciously wants to be seen. His power lets him create illusions, and sometimes, he does it without meaning to. He erases his nearly blind green eye, sharpens his flat teeth. He used to think his green eye was pretty. Then it got worse and worse, and now he resents it. Resents that he’s going to lose it.

"I insist somebody will die, and I hate hoping." He wanted to kill his father. The fight with Freddy started because Owynn stole pills to try to murder his dad. But it didn’t work. His friend slashed him in the stomach. His father kept being awful. And through it all, Owynn is dressed in black and white—death.

Surprise! He did get sent to limbo! It lasted like five minutes before he was pulled out! Nothing will ever get better. Everything is ruined. They took away the ONE thing he wanted, to be nothing for a bit, to stop worrying for his life. He takes off his coat, goes back to making everyone’s life worse. His cracked arms exposed. A shirt that doesn’t even go with a suit, but it’s all he had.

He hates himself. Hates his life. Hates his past self, the version of him he deems the absolute worst. Wants her dead. Wants himself dead. Wants everyone dead—wants them to leave him alone with his miserable life that won’t get fixed no matter what. Making others suffer is fun. Usually.

But he’s attached.

And he hates it.

He feels bad. Feels awful. Feels sad. And he hates that, through all of this, he genuinely loves his partners. Stupid, unorganized memories flood in. He doesn’t need to think about this. It doesn’t matter. He should leave before he gets hurt like he always does.

Then, he looks at his hand. Two rings.

He stops.

Weak again. Vulnerable. Gross. His purple mixing with that shameful pink. And that green eye he despises. He stops. AND THATS IT I DONT KNOW IM SORRY. I PROMISE HES AWFUL. I PROMISE. IM SORRY I MAKE HIS LIFE SUCK I PROMISE IM NOT MAKING HIM A POOR LITTLE BABY HES AWFUL HES AWFUL HES STUPID AND I HATE HIMMM PLEASE BELIEVE MEEEEEEEEEEEE AHSOGIAHSGOIHASGKAJSLGAJSGLKAHSGAKHSG

[isfjmel-phleg]

This is a personal post.

You guys, it's real. I'm getting on a plane tomorrow to have adventures all by myself in a city I've never been to before. It's exciting. It's terrifying. I can't wait. It's going too fast.

[ndcultureis]

HSP culture is no, I can't just "toughen up" and yeah I will fucking "cry about it". You can't tell me to "just grow up" when I've been this way for over a decade.

Also, neurod culture is constantly being told, "How do you expect to get a job/live in the real world if you keep acting like this".

.

[charmfamily]

CORVUS CROSSING: A CHARM FAMILY STORY. CHAPTER I "BOY, YOU'LL BE A MAN REAL SOON." PART XVIX. Transcript Beneath the Cut.

DAMIEN: We're going to the library?

TOMAX: Yeah — it's about to start raining harder than a cow pissing on a flat rock. If you want to stay out in that and get soaked, I mean, you can…

DAMIEN: A cow…? [His words trail off for a moment, muttered to himself before he snickers and shakes his head.] Okay, you're definitely not from anywhere I've ever been. Never heard that one before.

TOMAX: Chestnut Ridge. [He laughs.] And before you say wow, you don't even have the twangy accent, yeah, I know. I worked very hard on that. C'mon, I've got some people for you to meet if you're up for it.

DAMIEN: Uh… yeah. [He nods, shrugging noncommittally.] Sure, as long as they're cool.

TOMAX: I wouldn't introduce you to anyone uncool. [He playfully rolls his eyes.] But seriously, if you don't feel up to it, you don't have to… You know you don't have to say yes to everything someone asks you, right?

DAMIEN: I didn't know. [He grins, his tone teasing and playfully snarky.] I've never heard the words 'people pleaser' in my life and I don't know why you'd insinuate that I do a bunch of stuff I don't feel like doing on a regular basis…

TOMAX: [He opens his mouth to say something but looks up at the sound of approaching footsteps and keeps quiet instead.]

AKIRA: Dude. There you fuckin' are — Kyle and I got saddled with clean up duty for a bit but I was looking for you everywhere, are you good now? Do you need a couple more minutes?

DAMIEN: Yeah, I'm good. Why, did something happen?

AKIRA: Group meeting with just the boys, there's some shit we have to discuss. No outsiders. [He grins at Tomax] No offense to your new bro here who looks chill but it's kinda important. Akira, by the way, and your shirt's dope.

TOMAX: [He chuckles.] Thanks, it's a flea market find. I'm Tomax and uh, no offense taken.

DAMIEN: The boys as in…?

AKIRA: You know what boys, dumbass. Us. The meeting's at home.

DAMIEN: Just checking, I don't wanna see that asshole again tonight.

AKIRA: Dude, he is the least invited bitch in the universe right now. [Lowering his voice as the two of them begin to walk down the hall, his brow furrows and his lips twist into a frown of concern.] Did you think we weren't gonna have your back? Seriously?

DAMIEN: I mean… [He sighs.] I don't know, shiny new social perks and getting handed a key to the kingdom around here right out of the gate is a pretty sweet deal…

AKIRA: Fuck that, you and I have been bros since I barfed all over your desk in third grade. That's deep lore that can't be erased overnight — and since when have I ever given a fuck what anyone else thinks?

DAMIEN: [He laughs, smiling genuinely and playfully shoving Akira.] I still can't believe you made yourself sick eating a banana peel after Kyle told you that's how people get high.

AKIRA: Okay first of all, I have always been man of science so jot that down and two — we just watched the Don't Huff Markers video in class and I thought that was also stupid so it stands to reason that if that's stupid and apparently works 'cause someone made a video about it, the 'eat a whole raw banana peel' thing could be legit.

DAMIEN: Also we don't fuckin' listen to Kyle anymore. That's a valuable, life-long lesson.

[curiositysavesthecat]

*This poll was submitted to us and we simply posted it so people could vote and discuss their opinions on the matter. If you’d like for us to ask the internet a question for you, feel free to drop the poll of your choice in our inbox and we’ll post them anonymously (for more info, please check our pinned post).

[ivoryghostyy]

── .✦ ᴍᴇᴇᴛ ɪʟɪᴀꜱ ᝰ.ᐟ

⌗ㆍTHE ENEMY PRINCEノ, ⌗ㆍHISTORICAL AUノ, ⌗ㆍRUTHLESS TYRANTノ

「 i actually started working on this one for a while now, but i had to put it on hold for a bit. idk if anyone noticed, but i actually posted this on accident at some point—i panicked, man,,,, 」

「 tw: mentions of war, death, blood, etc., minor character death, implications of using sedtives, angst, hurt/comfort (?), using people as pawns, the typical power dynamics in a historical setting, breakdowns, panic attacks, lots of crying, this one made me kinda sad tbh, etc... 」

“commander–!!” your name is a jumble on their tongue, rolling off in a mess of intelligible words.

crimson stains the rough terrain, flooding your nose with the metallic scent of blood. swords tear into flesh, leaving bodies in a mangled heap on the ground. are they faces you recognize? you don't stop to think about it.

you hear nothing but the agonizing sound of war; smell nothing but the pungent scent of blood; and see nothing but an infuriated shade of red.

do the cries of your friends still haunt you?

───────────────────────────────────────────

you sit up with a gasp, greeted with a familiar burning in your chest. worse than a stab to the heart, the ache tears into the very core of your being. a splutter of coughs slip from your throat, but they do nothing to ease the pain.

the thin curtains rustle with the night breeze, illuminated by the moon. your exhausted eyes drift out the window—anything to distract you from the torment that plagues your life. every waking moment is a torturous echo of your failures, of the lives you carry over your shoulders.

like a parasite, it crawls up your spine and nestles into your mind. it's an incessant reminder of the blood that stains your hands.

a tear rolls down your cheek, and you can almost taste the salt on your tongue. you curl up, making yourself smaller. these are the only times you allow yourself comfort. having lived in a battlefield, you'd grown used to constantly keeping your guard up. an enemy could be lurking anywhere, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

they would laugh when they slit your throat, dangling you by they hair before claiming your head. would the kingdom mourn if they saw such a gruesome sight? will they grieve the loss of a hero, or will they lament the failure of another tool?

the thought sends you an entirely different pain, something you believe will never truly cease, even if you rip your heart out of your own chest.

a tool. isn't that right? a weapon to wield against the threats that oppose your kingdom—your home. bitterness seeps into the pores of your sweaty skin, leaving you trembling as you heave another sob.

───────────────────────────────────────────

“your majesty!” calls an urgent voice.

the panic is answered with an arrogant tone, one that speaks with long years of luxury. the posh, aged voice grumbles within the throne room as the king places down his golden chalice.

“can't you see i'm busy? this best be important.”

───────────────────────────────────────────

the war is over, yet it feels as if you've never left the battlefield. it's a memory you can never forget, a burden you must shoulder for the rest of your life. it's ingrained into your bones, carved into the deepest parts of your mind.

you've won the battle, but nothing will make up for what you've lost.

hundreds were slain, and many were left injured beyond recovery. most were buried in hastily arranged graves, but the others were much less fortunate—with their bodies missing from their own coffins.

some were forgotten altogether. a memory that died alongside their final breath.

to the nobles, they were simply pawns for a sick game of chess. but to the people, they were family. they were parents, siblings, sons, and daughters. to you, they were friends; comrades. a found family that you grew to love, to trust, to cherish. you gambled your lives together, if only to make it back alive.

but now, you're the only one left.

───────────────────────────────────────────

“c-commander,” he calls to you, choking out his final words. blood dribbles down his chin, teeth stained with red as he grins.

“no, no, don't even think about it! we'll make it out of this, please, just hold on for a little longer, –!”

what was his name again? it feels like such a long time ago… the faces are blurry, but their voices are clear. you hear the agonized cries of the other soldiers in the frontlines, fighting for their lives.

“li.. sten, ya brat,” he chuckles, and you can feel the red staining your hands, pooling over the ground. you remember who he is to you, like a brother that you never had. much older, and yet he was merely your second-in-command. he always did teased you about it, didn't he?

“yer still young," he rasps out. his voice is rougher from all the blood pooling out his mouth, seeping into the barren soil.

"yer old man's- ugh, lived a good life. heh, lasted longer than.. i thought," he coughs, eyes drooping. he's losing his breath now, holding on to the final moments of his flickering life.

“don't blame yerself, kid. hah... don't regret... nothin'...”

he gasps, voice fading to a whisper. he's gripping your hand one last time before he falls limp, closing his eyes.

"it's not your fault."

───────────────────────────────────────────

the wind cries with you, bellowing within the dim room. the tears drip down your chin, shaking with uncontrollable sobs, and yet you force yourself to keep it down—to bury the pain deep in your heart, to close it off from the world, never to be heard again.

you bite your lip, muffling your whimpers as another presence makes itself known. the moon does little to illuminate the dark, shrouding the intruder in a veil of shadows. trembling hands reach above the bed frame, gripping the familiar handle of your dagger.

a tense silence chills the room; you're only graced with the sound of howling wind and the faint light brought by the night sky.

for a moment, you begin to think it was your senses playing tricks on you. had the nightmares gotten so bad that you've lost your mind?

but a moment was all he needed.

the dagger flies out of your hand, sliding across the floor as you wrestle with the intruder. the mattress sinks from your combined weight as he pins your wrists above you, holding you down with a monstrous strength. something pokes your skin, sinking into your skin before you can react.

all the sleepless nights have done a number on you, highlighted by the dark circles under your eyes. you had overworked yourself, spending your days like a mindless drone. you're haunted by the memories of your slain comrades, living like an empty shell of a person.

is this it? after struggling for years in a war, you ultimately die by the hands of an assassin.

pathetic.

a tear rolls down your cheek, and then another. you've resigned yourself to your fate, but that doesn't mean you've no regrets. guilt and despair cling to you like a vice, like chains that weigh you down every single day. losing your found family is one thing, but knowing you could have stopped it is another.

you barely even noticed the shift in your position, pulled into a soft chest, and held like a prized treasure.

“shh. i'm not going to kill you, precious.”

he coos, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. a large hand pulls you closer, tightening his hold on your frantic form. “you're alright now, always safe with me. shh, shhh, don't cry,” he wipes your tears, trailing his hand down your neck.

“come on. breathe with me, yeah? in and out, just like that,” he pulls back, cupping your face as the drowsiness begins to cradle you, lulling your mind into a reluctant slumber.

“that’s right, don't fight it.”

the voice urges you, stroking your head. your eyes grow heavier by the second, and all the fight leaves your body as you slump against him.

“good,” he whispers, nuzzling into your neck.

the last thing you see is a pair of intense, golden eyes before your vision goes black.

“sweet dreams, my rose.”

───────────────────────────────────────────

the man, who seems to be an aide, clears his throat. but it does little to hide the way his voice trembles as he speaks.

“t-the hero, your majesty. they're gone!”

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 72

 Crane is getting desperate. No matter how much he tries to offset it with human food, his stomach continues to feel like a ravenous void. His hands are shaking, vision just as shaky as he tries to continue the delicate process of creating his toxin, even though he knew it wasn’t going to work. 

 The last seven batches hadn’t had an effect, even as he made them stronger and stronger. He’s getting desperate, feeling more like a starved animal than a man of science. 

 His throat is dry and scratchy despite him just drinking water, and his fangs easily cause his lips to bleed as he bites at them nervously. He taps his claws impatiently at the table, nausea sweeping over his head for a moment before his vision righted itself while waiting for the fear toxin to finish. 

 It doesn’t work. It doesn’t work. It’s strong enough to nearly kill anyone else but it does nothing and he’s going to starve. He was in that damn asylum for too long, and he’s going to die and he doesn’t want to- 

 He’s long since stopped being able to feel fear but at that moment he could almost swear he still could.

[theidlespoon]

you think you're over it and then out of the blue you're curled up on your bathroom floor listing five things you can see four things you can touch three things you can hear.

[hana-a-chattic]

Seeing how he likes picking up some of the most deranged freaks (*affectionate) and goes "I can fix him- by playing sports together! ☺️" Kevin Day should be a shonen protag-kun