Who The Fuck Left Their Fentanyl Tuna At The Park?

who the fuck left their fentanyl tuna at the park?

he knows what the people want from him.

knows a little too well.

we went on a picnic today. fresh blackberry and strawberry jam and bread 🐺 overhaul likes his jams tart and barely semi-sweet. these were perfect for him to munch on.

touya did not enjoy these muscadine grapes, but he does like eating lemons. do you eat lemons? we both struggled to do this but the lemons were originally meant to be for the black tea.

[a list of overhaul headcanons that i've been obsessed with + soft x reader imagines]

he's kind of low-energy, so i imagine a lot of his hobbies would be similar.

given his physique, he'd probably enjoy working out, exercise, and/or yoga. he'd listen to documentaries about scientific discoveries while doing the mindless and repetitive movements. he'd intently watch a creative recreation of the discovery of tiktaalik and then forget he'd been cycling for over an hour.

i definitely think he'd be into reading too. typically he reads autobiographical nonfiction, but i'm sure he could be swayed into more literary nonfiction. he'd also read academic/scholarly journals/publications. he'd spend hours reading and reading.

playing strategic/mentally stimulating board/card games would interest him too. it's to keep his wits sharp, and perhaps hone in his poker face more and more. he probably did this a lot when he was younger, but then it became a hobby so he just does it to keep his brain thinking.

he'd also be into things like wine making or custom metal work, something that he can build and create. chemistry is something he really would enjoy, and there are endless possibilities there. he probably brewed beer and things like that when he was younger to earn pocket money and get himself further out there, but it stuck around too.

along those lines, he spends a lot of his time studying and working on his technical skills. he has many things he has to practice and learn, and i don't think his hunger for knowledge is satiable. he'd dedicate time for learning languages that might help him one day. science and math become some of his favorite things to do to pass the time—it's like doing crossword puzzles to him.

when he was really little, i think he probably tinkered with model kits. he's a little too shy to show those off though, but they're still hidden away in a closet just in case he ever wants to attempt them once more.

—

imagine kai tells you that he has a surprise for you, so he leads you into the living room and reveals with a gesture a board game. his eyes are crinkled around the edges, so you know there's a smile underneath that mask of his. you'd play with him, only for him to obliterate you every. single. time. it's typically chess because he teases you that it's your skill level—and you should be glad he didn't pull out the checkers board (or worse, go fish).

imagine watching him fiddle around with experiments. he shows you the elephant toothpaste one and you both would watch in horror whenever it starts exploding out more than it was supposed to. whenever you ask what happened, kai admits that perhaps he shouldn't have been focusing on your reactions as much. but whenever he's not doing anything in particular for you (and he totally doesn't do those things to impress you), the two of you just parallel play in the same room. he's busy, writing notes down in that doctor's scrawl of his and staring down intently through his bulky jewelers loupes; while you're relaxing on the other side of the room, perhaps doing something quiet and easy like drawing, or knitting, or writing, or researching.

imagine soft jazz in the background during these things. kai slowly turns to face you with a hard stare whenever you start playing your mix of sad jazz. he shakes his head softly, telling you he's not going to examine the medicinal samples in his petri dishes to billie holiday's "the man i love" (which makes him shift from foot to foot awkwardly because of the lyrics). a sly grin starts to stretch across your face as you switch it to old german jazz (the kind that plays in those 1930s men's fashion instagram reels), and you start doing a little dance towards him, shaking your hips and shimmying. kai's eyes are wide, but he's unable to not succumb whenever you lightly grasp his hands and loosely swing his arms back and forth (he's imploding internally).

imagine making him a rap, rock rap, and/or nu metal playlist. it's sometimes heavy and emotional or bitter, and sometimes it's nice for him to lean back and grimace at the ceiling whenever he listens to the words. so you hook up your phone to a speaker, then hit shuffle. his head is leaned against the back of the couch, eyes closed while the playlist cycles through. one second cypress hill is playing, the next it's eminem's fack. kai's face contorts into dissatisfaction before his eyes open and he pointedly looks at you, but you just snicker and say it's like a game of russian roulette. i wonder just how many times this song is hidden in this playlist? kai just sighs in acceptance.

imagine kai gushing to you (in a definitely calm and composed manner) about some or the nonfiction/journals he reads, or documentaries he's watched. sometimes he'll throw a word out there that you don't know, but he's very willing to explain what it means. he's brief and precise whenever he elaborates the information, and he'll offer to let you read/watch the materials too. you'd definitely sit down and read/watch it (even if it doesn't particularly interest you, but you know kai enjoys it).

imagine the two of you getting into stuff to do together like reading theory (you wouldn't stop jokingly spamming links to the communist manifesto and industrial society and its future at three a.m. in the morning—but then you both dipped in émile durkheim and kai was immediately enthralled). or doing something like learning animal taxonomy (you wouldn't stop calling the centipedes little lovers). or something simple like drinking coffee (or whatever you'd prefer at that moment) in public and people watching.

so many little things to pass the time, just brief smiles and witty glances behind coffee steam.

Touya: *rushing into the room, panting* *greasy hair plastered to his forehead, chip dust and crumbs on his shirt and fingertips, sweaty, hasn't showered in four days* *standing in doorway* "Do you love me, babe?"

You: "Of course, Touya."

Touya: *a relieved sigh* "Radical." *flops over, face down on the floor, passes out*

Happiness.