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i should really say more about that video but i’m still overwhelmed by the responses and i kind of just want to cry. this was the worst time for this to happen. there’s so much going on. 

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i dont know how to put these thoughts into words. i don’t know how to put these feelings into words. i might just scream into the void for a few hours. 

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eva exists. she really exists. i’ve known about her for months. but she’s actually here now and i think i kinda love this whole concept of being a dad. had a fight with emerson over it. but i think we’re good now. i don’t know. i never know. 

he’s sweet. but i kinda get the feeling that he’s not looking for something serious. i also kinda get the feeling that every other human i know pretty much is already talking to him. so maybe i should give up. it’s been refreshing though. 

i don’t know, i just feel drained

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fuck this shit. 

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i just want to talk more. i want to feel more. i feel numb, i feel alone. i feel like the world is falling around me and i don’t know why. i went to kiara’s yesterday and just sat and listened to her talk because i didn’t want to feel alone. and i’m sure that my loneliness is my own fault but i can’t help but feel it. 

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i don’t know what to say because i don’t know what’s happening. the only person that talks to me is dove and idk why 

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I can't follow instructions even when I'm the one who gave them. I didn't wait. I said words. he loves me??? wow. I'm lucky. I love you.

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“I’m afraid to love you. I’m afraid that you’ll leave and that I’ll go back to being alone again. Only it will be a hundred times worse because I’ll know what I’m missing. …I want to be able to love you more than I fear losing you, and I don’t know how. Teach me… Please teach me. Don’t let me destroy this.”

— Mia Sheridan, Archer’s Voice (via wordsnquotes)

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what's the time frame for saying those words? I know the feeling is there but a part of me is worried that it's just because of what we've been through together. but another part can't help but think of the statistics. people go through crazy shit and it pushes them apart because neither of them know how to cope. we got stronger and more confident.

we haven't even labeled this other than "mine"

I should wait

I need to wait.

I don't want to wait.

wait remington.

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i need to do more updates. i know i do. cuz so much has changed since i posted last, but i don’t know if i have the energy right now. 

he went away. 

and dante’s mine. neither of us have said the word, it’s not officially official, but it’s official. you know? 

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go away

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updates;;

there's a lot going on in my life right now and I don't know how to feel. on one hand it's overwhelming and I feel like shit. on the other hand, at least I'm finding things to focus on.

sabrinas home. so I had to go back to sleeping alone. but then I ended up finding myself in a position where my friends needed me and cuddle sessions were the regular.

I've slept with too many people lately, but fuck if it's not keeping my mind off fear. if I let them hurt me, the pain distracts from the fear.

I don't remember the last time I had a real meal. I should probably do something about that, but I don't feel like I'm hungry enough to actually eat so I'm not going to bother.

I feel like I'm on edge every where I turn, and it's probably a little bit shitty, but I'm glad that I'm going to Dantes to sleep (even though I told him I'd take care of him while he's sick) because he's still taking care of me by not making me be alone.

I'm scared.

#I think there was an updates tag but I might be imagining it #ooc: I'll have him post a second update soon once a few things are ironed out

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there's a period of time where you have to stop sleeping in your brother's room out of fear of life. that period was like 18 years ago. yet here we are.

#slasher tw #but also every day remington

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     ➼ Of course Sebastian left the TV on, why wouldn’t that asshole turn it off like he was asked to? The sound of nightly news assaulted Remington’s ears as he climbed onto the tourbus, and he opened his mouth almost immediately to complain. He didn’t like news in the best of times, and he especially didn’t want to hear news in a country he didn’t know anything about. Maybe that was immature of him, but he was willing to accept that label. “Seba-” the whine started, but was cut short when he realized that the reporter on the screen was talking about something back home. What would anything from back in Los Angeles be doing on the TV in Melbourne? He stepped up into the lounge, and was immediately transfixed by the story that was being read out on the screen, his heart falling into his stomach as he heard the news of these deaths that he hadn’t been aware of before this point. Of people who were in similar positions to himself that were gone now. It was too much for him to handle, he was too happy about the idea of a break, he didn’t need anything killing that buzz. He turned the TV off and walked away, content to curl up with a book and forget that he had heard anything.  

     ➼ When the email came, he didn’t look right away. His phone lit up so many times a day with emails, messages, texts, and phone calls, that he had lost interest years ago. It was habitual though, and he did look eventually, about five minutes later. His face contorted as he read his full name. Kropp. That vile word was back, and this time it had the nerve to infiltrate his email account. His eyes sought out a sender before even looking at the rest of the email, prepared to tell them that he doesn’t know a Remington Leith Kropp. He hit reply, typed out those words and hit send. It was only then that he allowed himself to go back to the email itself. As he read the words, he swallowed thickly and he felt his breathing stop and had to consciously will himself to take another breath. He shook his head in disbelief as he read over the short letter several more times before he clicked back to his inbox to get away from it. This couldn’t be real. 

Sitting at the top of his unread messages, though, was a mailer daemon. A notice that the email he had replied to didn’t exist. How could it not exist? It just emailed him. He wasn’t imagining this, he wasn’t losing it. “I didn’t do anything...” Remington said quietly, his voice only audible to himself as he remembered the news report he had tried to push aside. People were being punished, but Remington hadn’t done anything wrong. He reached up with one hand to wipe tears away that threatened his eyes, as he unplugged his phone charger from the wall with the other hand. He slipped out of his bunk quietly, turning off the lights and drawing the curtain closed. And, like so many nights before, he found himself in Emerson’s bunk. The two had always fought nightmares together, and tonight was no different. He had been welcomed in with open arms, and he didn’t bother to tell Emerson that the nightmares were real this time. 

     ➼ Emerson seemed  different the next morning. Sure, neither of them were at their best after nightmares, but it seemed that he was more closed off than usual. Remington had taken up residency on the couch with a Harry Potter marathon when he woke up, and Emerson had joined him, sitting at the table with his sketchbook. But this time, Remington couldn’t help but notice that he was being ignored. He felt like his brother was too deep in his thoughts and Remington just felt defeated. He slumped back against the couch, focusing on the TV. But even his favorite franchise wasn’t holding his attention in that moment. He couldn’t shake the fear from the night before. Something was deeply wrong, and Remington had been targeted. He just didn’t know what to do with this information. 

Logic said to contact authorities. But the FBI was looking for the killer in the states, and Remington wouldn’t even be back in the country until Monday afternoon. That didn’t make him safe though. And suddenly a million reasons to stay in Australia came to mind. But he knew that none of them would stick. And he knew that he had a flight to catch one way or another. He turned off the movie, grunting when the others didn’t even notice, and getting to his feet to retreat to his bunk. He crawled in and hid under the covers, silencing his email app for a while and turning on his music to sleep until showtime. 

He opened the show that night with Dying in a Hot Tub. 

     ➼ The days that follow, Remington spirals. His fear turns into irrationality, which turns into him wanting to control everything again. He finds himself needing drink after drink just to feel like anything’s okay. He smokes more than he usually does - this is noticed by Sebastian, who’s always complaining about the younger two boys and their weed usage. But Remington just tells him to shove it and ignores the complaints. He’s quieter, this is noticed by everyone around him. In the hours leading up to returning the bus, he’s not running around with a vaccuum and making sure that everything is clean like usual, instead he does so slowly and wordlessly. There’s no yelling at anyone for their mess. And he can tell that the boys are understandably concerned. 

Eventually, on the flight back home, he opens up to Emerson. The two have always shared their own little world, and this becomes another thing that they share. 

“Don’t leave me Em.”

“We’ll wait this out in Obsidian.” 

#lhq.task #slasher tw #note: parts with emerson were discussed with emerson's writer.

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note: posts below this point are from former games, but are about characters currently in this group or relate to remingtons feelings, so they have been kept and tagged accordingly.

#ooc.