༽. ENTROPY .༼

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ꘩ . ⋆ ENTROPY ⋆ . ꘩

But I have this headcanon where he has this fatass seal plushie and it's always with him, even at work. No one dares to point it out because Jean Loo either gets carried away with telling the plush's story and lore like it's been through hell and back with him or he starts freestyle (c)rapping a diss track about you and how his best friend is basically better than you. His co-workers are afraid of him.

He defends that shit with his life and its got the dumbest look on its face as he holds it under his arm whenever he goes check on something important. You can try to take him seriously, but just know that the worst part about this is that Jean Loo proactively calls the seal; Lil' Phoque.

I think Hector may not believe it for a while, even almost scolding Sophia for treating their magnificent beauty of a god/dess like the dust piled on the floorboards of the attic floor. That poor HVAC is going to go through all the stages of grief because of you. Then maybe, one day, he'll try his best to take notes and mimic the way Sophia treats you but the poor man relents because he just can't call you things that you aren't <3

Then theres Johnny and Jean Loo crapping/singing each other to the death, Bathsheba and Rebel are at it again and Sinclaire is yelling out from the top of his lungs.

You had asked Celia to gather a house meeting about the party, setting up a few rules and boundaries that they shouldn’t cross—even if your relatives were being distasteful. Although, it seemed like they already had a secret-not-so-secret protocol if anything gets too out of hand. Some of your objects were just gossip-mongers.

Anyway, when the party started, it didn’t take more than a few minutes before you got your first shady comment (and not in the way Curt and Rod enjoy!). Hours passed, and the entire house was starting to see a side of you they’d seen before.

Oh, you were mean!

And I mean, like, a sexy mean!

You were clocking every one of your relatives that tried to throw a bitchy inside-joke or comment your way. Eating them up so badly that your cousin went crying to your grandma to complain about you. Little shit. Your patience was already beginning to dwindle and the house was split between being concerned and a little turned on.

You know who was having the time of their life? Regina “Reggie” Rejection.

By the gods, he was tired of watching you run around the house, basically making out with every piece of furniture, appliance and object. Creating a ‘soft space’ for you to live in? How boring!

But hey, he has been waiting for the day you cracked open a little and showed off that inner sass and hate. Yup, he’s seen a bit of it: when you get annoyed at a game you’re playing and you yell out the most creative string of (surprisingly mostly-PG) curses at your screen, or the facial expressions and body language you displayed whenever a war broke out during a FaceTime.

Oh he knows you’ve got a delicious kind of hate in you.

Finally watching it unfold in person has him in cloud nine, cackling his ass off as he floats close to you in the sub-parallel world. Oh he is LOVING the subtle seeds of carnage you’re sowing. He was having a feast after you’ve fed him so little over the time you’ve had the Dateviators.

Sly, snide comments here and there.. rejecting the advances of both friendship and love from even shadier friends of your cousins.. even throwing around a little bit of old, hot, classic goss from an event that happened when you were younger, with your red-faced relatives??

Oh, you needed to STOP.

But to top off the night with the finishing blow, you push escorted your family out the door, gave them a smug, condescending wave and kiss goodbye before closing it with the purest form of animosity.

Reggie was having an absolute field day, laughing the loudest he ever had before. By the end of the night, he wasn’t even sure if he’d be able to even reject you for a time in bed (He probably still would).

The moment you put the Dateviators back on, cleaning the ungodly amount of trash and dirty dishware in your home—with Daisuke, Cam and Dishy’s help, of course—Reggie just had to come up to you! Admiring just how hateful you could be! God, you almost got on his good side, but he still had to keep up with his reputation.

Just as he was trying to fish for a nice back-and-forth, you only gave him a tired smirk—which could be mistaken for smug.. or sexy—and hushed him, keeping an index finger pressed against your lips before you saunter off to wash up and head to Betty.

“Try harder next time, big boy.”

Yes, yes, we love hearing about the objects protecting you if someone horrible tries to invade your life. Whether it be a simple thief/intruder or a vengeful ex or relative.

But let's press pause for a moment and consider a reader who would do just about anything for their objects. Especially after receiving the dateviators.

You had built yourself a home for your content and imbued all your love into your surroundings because you wanted to create a peaceful atmosphere that you never had much of when you were younger. Obviously, your objects love the sentiment and care you put into them everyday without a prompt.

You wipe at your tables' and desks' surfave smoothly, ensuring that it's clean enough for the shine of the sun to display itself on the plain top.

You wash your dishes with expert precision—not wanting to leave any sort of crumb or crack behind. If you're too tired for the day, you pat at the top of your dishwasher with a soft smile and a coo of acknowledgement.

You were even willing to get dirty and down on your knees with a toolbox and gloves just to see what was wrong with your fuse box and toilet, cleaning up the small space once you were finished.

It was all in good love. Despite being told you were ungrateful and horrible, you appreciated everything around you just for functioning, because that gave you some sort of ground to stand and hold yourself upon in the least. The objects wish you were more considerate of yourself even when you try your hardest to be. They love you just as much as you love them; with or without the dateviators.

Now, a piece of your past pushed themselves through your front door, cracking it's hinges just a little as they walk feverishly towards you in intimidation.

They're mad, undeservingly so, as they carelessly mess up your home just to push your buttons and make you feel some sort of fear. To your displeasure, a part of you does, even when you told yourself to stop pitying the past.

Forced back into a corner, both of you bare your teeth. Even with frail legs you choose to stand and bark.

Everything goes how it often goes until—in the fresh pit of rage—they slam one of your mugs unto the floor. Then everything goes impossibly silent. Even without the dateviators, you felt your object tense. Your surroundings emitting an atmosphere of silent tension. You weren't sure if it was in shock, anger or simply their need to keep you safe from that warning action.

You were on your knees. The babbling that came from the animal before you became nothing but mutters and muffled insults as you tried to piece it back together for Daisuke. It was like watching him die in front of you.

It wasn't until they started to throw your other things that you had completely lost all sense of self-preservation and threw a clenched fist at whatever you could land on. Their face? Stomach? Maybe whatever's in between their legs? You weren't normally a violent person so this threw a shock to your target.

Now in unbridled, seething anger that had been unclogged from the bottle you stored somewhere in the pantry of disassociation and buried memories; the objects watch as you mercilessly beat and choke your opponent with such fervour.

All of them were in such a state of shock because they've never seen you get mad at anything other than the occassional argument you had with your screen when you lost a particularly challenging round. You were incredibly patient and considerate that the hands you threw were not a direct showcase of that.

There was a fiery glint in your eyes as you made it your duty to emphasize every word that spilled out of your sharp teeth with a harsh press of your delicate palms onto the throat of your life long adversary.

Should your objects be concerned? Proud? Or aroused at your determination to fight? To fight for the protection of your home and the presence of peace and love that you poured into this house? Well, you were certainly stronger than your appearance. Mentally, emotionally and physically.

After you had infused fear and a life time worth of hate that was left to simmer and boil; you threw them out of your house and told Dorian to call you if they tried to intrude again. You might as well just run them straight with your car.

Needless to say, all the dateables in your house fell head over heels more in love with you! And maybe a gained a slight sense of fear of you too.