#hanna washington
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1winterashby1 · 1 month ago
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BROTHER IM SOBBING😖😖
𝑙𝑜𝑜𝑘 𝑎𝑡 đ‘€â„Žđ‘Žđ‘Ą 𝑩𝑜𝑱'𝑣𝑒 𝑑𝑜𝑛𝑒.
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PAIRING: josh washington x fem!reader WARNINGS: the prank, no use of y/n GENRE: ANGST. SONG INSPIRATION: youth by daughter WORD COUNT: 9.1k REQUESTED: yes NOTE: who's ready to cry?
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no one truly understood how much his sister's disappearance had shattered him.
they tried to be there for him, to console him in those rare moments when he couldn’t mask the pain that cut him so deeply. 
they wanted to help, but no amount of support could bridge the pain left behind.
but you, you didn’t need to see the cracks to understand how broken he was. 
you were the only one he ever truly let in.
his brokenness became yours. the faraway look in his eyes, the way he’d drift off into silence, the dark circles that painted the story of sleepless nights. it all tore at you. he needed you more than ever, and in truth, you needed him just as much.
you started showing up at his place late at night, no matter the hour. just to hold him. to check on him. to sit beside him when the silence became unbearable.
there were no words that could mend what he had lost, no comfort you could offer to fix the pieces of his shattered heart. and yet, your presence was enough. he never said it out loud, but you saw it in the way his breathing slowed, the way he relaxed when you were near. 
you made it a little easier for him to sleep, to eat, to simply exist.
you’d do anything for him, and you had proven that countless times.
so when he brought up the idea of going back to the lodge a year after his sister’s disappearance, your heart sank. you knew it would be agonising for him, and the thought of reliving those memories made you hesitate. 
but when he asked you to come along, because you hadn’t been able to go the prior year, you couldn’t refuse.
you’d never let him face something like this alone.
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you were the first ones to arrive at the lodge, the mountain air crisp as you stepped out of the car and took in the familiar, yet bittersweet surroundings. once you stepped in front of the lodge josh grabbed your bags before you could protest, flashing you a small, tired smile as he pressed a soft kiss to your lips.
“i’ve got these,” he murmured, his eyes flickering with a warmth that hadn’t been there in a long time. then he headed up the stairs, leaving you alone in the spacious but eerily quiet cabin.
you took a moment, inhaling deeply, letting the nostalgia and tension settle in your bones. with a contented sigh, you stretched your arms out and decided to get to work. the place needed a little life breathed back into it. 
you started in the living room, uncovering the dust covered furniture. the old couch creaked as you lifted the heavy cloth, revealing its worn, familiar fabric. you busied yourself with small tasks: arranging the cushions, stacking wood, and kindling the fireplace until the room started to glow with a warm, flickering light. 
it felt good, in a way. a distraction, a chance to bring some comfort back into this space that had held so much grief.
but after a while, you realised you hadn’t seen josh. it wasn’t like him to disappear without a word, so you set down the last piece of kindling and wiped your hands on your jeans, calling out as you made your way to the bedroom.
“baby?” you called, peeking inside. the room was empty, the bags still packed, and there was no sign of him in the ensuite bathroom either.
frowning slightly, you turned back and started wandering the halls, your footsteps light on the wooden floors as you searched for him. just as you rounded the corner towards the front door, it flew open with a loud thud.
you jumped, letting out a squeal as your hand flew to your chest. there was josh, grinning looking extremely proud of himself, his laughter filling the cabin.
“oh my god, you scared me!” you gasped, half-laughing, half-annoyed as he stepped closer and pulled you into his arms.
“sorry, sorry!” he chuckled, his voice softer now, brushing a kiss against your temple. “couldn’t resist. you should’ve seen your face.”
you playfully slapped his chest, but the sound of his laughter, genuine and unburdened, was something you hadn’t heard in what felt like forever. it melted away any irritation you felt, leaving behind a warmth that spread through your chest.
“you’re terrible,” you muttered, smiling despite yourself.
“yeah, but you love me,” he teased, his smile faltering just a bit as he looked at you, his fingers brushing a strand of hair from your face. for a moment, the playfulness faded, replaced by something deeper, more vulnerable.
“i do,” you whispered, your hand sliding up to rest over his heart. you felt the steady beat beneath your palm, a silent promise that you were here, together, no matter what memories this place held.
josh’s eyes softened, he pressed his forehead to yours, closing his eyes. 
“thank you for coming,” he murmured. “i know it’s not easy. being here.”
you squeezed him tighter. “you don’t have to thank me. i’d follow you anywhere, you know that.”
he nodded, his grip tightening around you before he pulled back, a lighter smile on his face now. “c’mon, let’s finish setting up before the others get here. i want it to feel...normal. at least for a little while.”
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it didn’t take long for everyone to show up, the lodge filling with a familiar mix of voices and laughter. the chill from the outside seemed to melt away as your friends settled in, dropping their bags and unwinding in the main room. 
the fire you started was crackling, casting a warm glow over the space. you could feel the tension start to ease, though the air still held an undercurrent of unease.
you made your way over to josh, slipping under his arm. he pulled you closer, his hand rubbing soothing circles against your back. you rested your head on his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat as the others chatted and joked around. for a moment, it almost felt normal.
then the front door swung open with a sharp gust of wind, and in walked emily and matt. emily’s face was set in a familiar look of annoyance, her eyes rolling as she stepped inside. matt followed close behind, his jaw clenched, clearly frustrated. you could sense the tension between them before they even spoke.
“well, look who finally decided to show up,” sam drawled from across the room, leaning against the couch with a smirk. mike's eyes flicked briefly to emily, lingering a moment too long.
emily scoffed, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “yeah, well, some of us had to deal with a little drama on the way up here,” she snapped, shooting a glare at matt, who looked like he was biting back a retort.
“drama? what kind of drama?” jessica chimed in, her voice dripping with curiosity and something sharper. she stepped closer to mike, wrapping her arm possessively around his waist. the look she shot emily was a thinly veiled challenge.
“oh, you know, the usual,” emily said with a sarcastic smile. “matt getting all worked up over nothing.”
matt’s face reddened, and he stepped forward. “over nothing? you were practically hanging off mike’s arm, em!”
mike’s smirk widened, clearly enjoying the show. “hey, don’t drag me into this, man,” he said, holding up his hands in mock innocence. “i can’t help it if people like being around me.”
“oh please,” jessica interjected, rolling her eyes. “it’s not like she hasn’t moved on, right, em? or maybe you just can’t let go of the fact that i’m with him now.”
emily’s eyes narrowed, her voice icy. “oh, trust me, jess, you’re welcome to him. i’ve moved on to bigger and better things.”
“bigger and better?” jessica repeated, her voice rising in pitch. “you think you’re better than me?”
the room went silent, the playful banter tipping quickly into hostility. matt stepped closer, fists clenched at his sides, while mike watched with a smug grin. you felt josh tense beside you, his arm tightening around your shoulders. he had that look in his eyes, like he was trying to decide whether to step in or let the drama play out.
“alright, alright, everyone, let’s just cool it, okay?” josh finally intervened, stepping between them with a broad, disarming smile. “we’re here to have a good time, remember? no need to fight over ancient history. how about you and jess go to the other cabin that i told you about and you let this go?”
he shot a pointed look at mike and then at matt, his tone light but firm. mike shrugged, backing off with a chuckle, while matt reluctantly stepped away, muttering under his breath. emily and jessica exchanged one last glare before turning away from each other, both visibly annoyed but unwilling to push it further.
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the hours drifted by slowly as you lay in bed, your head pounding with the dull throb of an oncoming migraine. you closed your eyes, trying to block out the flickering shadows cast by the firelight, wishing for some rest. 
the lodge had fallen into an almost eerie silence. everyone had split off, doing their own thing, giving the place a stillness that felt almost unnatural.
then you heard it. a loud, frantic banging on a door downstairs, followed by a sound that made your blood run cold.
chris’s voice desperate.
“ash! oh my god, ashley!”
you bolted upright, the pain in your head forgotten as adrenaline coursed through your veins. throwing on your shoes, running out of the room and down the stairs, heart pounding in your chest.
you found chris frantically pushing against the kitchen door.
“hey, chris!” you yelled, grabbing his arm, trying to get his attention. “what’s going on? what happened?”
he turned to you, eyes wide and wild, barely able to get the words out. “it’s ashley,” he stammered, his voice breaking. “something– something took her! we were looking for clues and then... i don’t know, it grabbed her! we’ve got to get her out of there, now!”
the sheer panic in his voice left no room for questions. you nodded, bracing yourself and shoving against the door with him, putting every ounce of strength you had into it. the wood groaned under your combined weight, the hinges straining.
with a sudden, violent crack, the door flew open, and the two of you were thrown forward, hitting the carpet hard. you scrambled to your feet, the room dimly lit and filled with shadows. it was hard to see, but as your eyes adjusted, you spotted her.
ashley was sprawled on the floor, unconscious, her body limp and unmoving.
“oh my god, ashley!” you gasped, rushing to her side. you knelt down, hands shaking as you checked her pulse. relief flooded through you when you felt it. faint, but steady. she was breathing.
you turned back to chris, ready to tell him she was okay, but the words died in your throat as a shadow moved behind him. before you could shout a warning, a masked figure stepped out of the darkness and swung a fist, landing a brutal punch squarely across chris’s face.
“chris!” you screamed as he crumpled to the floor, unconscious.
instinct took over. you had no time to think, only react. you sprinted to the kitchen, grabbing the first thing you could find, a small knife. it wasn’t much, but it was better than nothing.
you held the knife out in front of you, your hands trembling as you backed towards them, trying to protect her and chris. 
“stay back!” you shouted, your voice cracking with fear. “i swear i’ll use this!”
but before you could make another move, you felt it. a strong arm snaking around your waist, yanking you back against his chest. the sudden pressure of a cloth was pressed over your mouth and nose, the sickly sweet smell of chloroform invading your senses.
you thrashed wildly, kicking and clawing, refusing to go down without a fight. the knife was still in your hand, and you swung it blindly behind you. you felt the blade connect, slicing into flesh, and a distorted scream of pain ripped through the air. the grip on you loosened for a moment, using the last of your strength to try and break free.
but it was too late. the world around you started to blur, the room spinning as your vision darkened. your body went limp as the chloroform took hold, the knife slipping from your fingers.
the last thing you heard before you blacked out was the masked figure’s laboured, angry breathing and the sound of ashley’s soft, uneven breaths, still unconscious on the floor beside you.
that's when everything went dark.
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you stirred awake, groaning as the pounding in your head reminded you of the events before you blacked out. 
beside you, chris let out a low grunt, shifting as he groggily sat up. the air was cold and heavy, the lights still off, and nothing around you seemed to have changed.
but as you blinked, clearing the haze from your vision, unease curled in your gut. something was different.
ashley was gone.
“shit,” you muttered, your voice breaking the silence. panic surged through you as you scrambled to your feet. turning to chris, you shook his shoulder, forcing him to focus. “chris. ashley’s gone.”
chris blinked hard, his face paling as realisation dawned. “what? where– what the hell happened?”
you didn’t answer, instead yanking him to his feet. “we’ve got to find her. she can’t be far.”
switching on the flashlight of your phone, you searched your surroundings. the beam caught every shadow, every corner, as you searched for any sign of where she might have gone. 
finally, your light hit something, a purse lying on the ground.
“it’s hers,” you said under your breath, crouching down to pick it up. it wasn’t much, but it was something. you clutched it tightly as you moved around the house toward the front door.
the door creaked as you pushed it open, the cold night air cutting through you. but what you saw next made your stomach twist into knots.
blood.
it smeared the wall outside the door in messy streaks, glistening faintly under the pale moonlight.
“holy shit,” chris whispered, his voice shaking as he stepped closer. “is that–?”
you didn’t let him finish. your flashlight followed the trail of blood, which led away from the house, cutting through the snow.
“we have to follow it,” you said, barely able to keep the fear out of your voice.
chris nodded, sticking close to you as you both ventured into the freezing darkness. each step crunched beneath your boots, the sound unnervingly loud against the eerie silence of the night. 
the blood left a faint trail to the shed in the backyard.
it was there that you heard it. a voice, cracked and trembling, carried by the wind.
“chris!”
ashley.
her sobs were unmistakable. exchanging a panicked glance with chris, both of you breaking into a run.
you burst into the shed, your flashlight sweeping over the scene inside. the sight made your blood run cold.
ashley hands tied above her to a wooden board, tears streaming down her face as she struggled against the ropes holding her in place. 
she wasn’t alone.
beside her was josh, also bound, his wide eyes locking onto you the moment you entered.
“oh my god,” you breathed.
“help me! please, help!” his voice cracked.
ashley was sobbing harder now, her pleas barely coherent as she begged for you and chris to save them.
their cries grew louder, filling the small shed with tension, until they didn’t.
the sound of a voice, deep and distorted, crackled through hidden speakers, silencing them both.
“hello, and thank you all for joining me..”
the voice was chillingly calm, it’s tone laced with malice. it was the one you’d heard before you passed out. 
you and chris froze, every muscle in your body tense as the words echoed around you.
your flashlight flickered slightly. josh’s voice cut through the deafening silence, quieter this time, trembling with nothing but anguish.
“please,” he whispered, his eyes locking onto yours, wide and glistening with unshed tears. 
“don’t let whoever it is hurt us.”
before you could respond, the crackling static of the speakers filled the shed once again, followed by the same deep, sinister voice.
“tonight, we’re going to conduct a little experiment.”
“what the fuck is going on?” you murmured, your voice barely audible over the sound of your own heartbeat pounding in your ears.
the voice continued, unfazed by the panic rising in the room.
“for this experiment, we’ll need the cooperation of two of our test subjects
 joshua and ashley.”
“what?” ashley’s voice broke into a sharp shout, her cries mixed with a choked sob.
josh froze, his chest rising and falling rapidly, his panic evident even as he tried to keep himself from breaking completely.
“oh my god,” you whispered, dread settling deep in your chest.
“but,” the voice drawled, almost casually, “we’re going to need one more brave participant to help decide
 which subject will live, and which will die.”
“no,” you gasped, your voice cracking as the weight of the words slammed into you. tears burned in your eyes, now spilling over as you covered your mouth with your hand. “no, no, no!”
ashley’s screams became louder. “this can’t be real! this can’t be happening!”
josh pulled against his restraints again, pleading. “don’t listen to him! please, get us out of here!”
their cries overlapped, filling the room with desperate pleas and frantic sobs. you couldn’t breathe; the room felt like it was closing in, the walls pressing tighter and tighter around you.
chris stood frozen beside you, his face pale, his hands trembling.
“please, please,” the voice interrupted smoothly, it’s calm tone a stark contrast to the chaos you all shared. 
“everyone calm down. it’s all very simple.”
simple?
“you will find a lever placed directly in front of you. all you have to do
 is choose who you will save.”
your head snapped toward the lever.
“what the fuck? they can’t be serious!” your sadness morphed into something hot and volatile. rage bubbling beneath your skin as you stormed toward the door between you and them.
“no!” you growled, slamming your hands against the handle. “this isn’t happening! this can’t be happening!”
you pushed, pulled, slammed your shoulder into the door, anything to force it open. the wood creaked under your assault, but it held firm.
the sound of metal grinding against metal filled the air, sharp and shrill. the saw had started.
the noise sent a chill down your spine, you pulled harder on the door handle, your breaths coming in ragged gasps.
“oh no,” ashley sobbed, her voice rising in pitch. “please, this can’t be happening! this isn’t right!”
the saw’s steady whirring was like a countdown, each second ticking closer to an unthinkable end.
josh’s voice broke through the noise, full of pure terror. “don’t do this! please, you don’t have to do this!”
ashley’s cries grew louder, more frantic. “save me! please, oh my god, i can’t die!”
you could feel your sanity slipping as you turned back to face the room. the lever stood there, mocking you, as if daring you. chris was pacing now, running his hands through his hair, his movements jerky and panicked.
“w-what do we do?” he stammered, his voice cracking as he looked to you for answers you didn’t have.
the saw’s hum grew louder, as the reality of the situation bore down on you. time was running out, and you were trapped in a nightmare with no way out.
the grinding sound of the saw grew louder. your hands trembled as you clutched the door handle, pulling with everything you had, screaming for it to give way.
"come on!" you cried, voice breaking as hot tears streamed down your cheeks. "come on, you son of a bitch, open!"
but it was no use. the door wouldn’t budge.
behind you, the pleas grew more frantic, more agonised. ashley was sobbing uncontrollably, her words tumbling over each other as she begged for her life. josh was screaming now, his voice hoarse and cracking, calling your name, calling chris’s, calling anyone who might listen.
“please!” josh shouted, his eyes wild and terrified as they locked on yours. “you can't let me die!”
your vision blurred as you turned your back to them, the image of josh tied up, eyes red, face swollen burned into your mind. the person who made you laugh when no one else could. the one who saw you when you felt invisible. the one you loved more than anything.
"chris," you sobbed, clutching at his arm. "we can’t do this! we have to find another way!"
but chris wasn’t looking at you. he wasn’t looking at anything but the lever.
he was trembling, his eyes darting between josh and ashley, both of them screaming, both of them begging, their voices a mix of anguish and fear.
"chris!" you yelled, shaking him hard. "don’t! we’ll figure something out! just–just don’t!"
his breathing was shallow, his face pale and wet with tears. “i– i don’t know what to do,” he choked out, his voice broken. “i can’t–, i can’t–”
but even as he said it, his hand was moving. slowly, shakily, he reached for the lever.
"no!" you screamed, lunging for him, grabbing at his arm. "chris, don’t!"
it was too late.
with a guttural cry, chris yanked the lever.
time slowed to a crawl, the world around you dissolving into a haze of sound and motion. the saw roared to life, screaming as it moved toward it’s victim.
“no!” you shrieked, your voice tore through the air as you clung helplessly on the gated wall for josh.
his wide, terrified eyes met yours, full of pain and betrayal. “no, no, no! please!” he screamed, struggling against the restraints with everything he had.
and then the saw reached him.
the sound was sickening, the kind that burrowed into your ears and stayed there, haunting. blood sprayed across the room, splattering the walls, the floor, and even you as you stood frozen, paralyzed by the horror before you.
josh’s screams cut off abruptly, his body going limp as the saw finished it's grim work.
the room fell deathly silent, except for the faint hum of the machinery winding down.
the door clicked, the lock releasing with an almost casual sound. it swung open.
chris stumbled forward, rushing to ashley’s side. she was sobbing uncontrollably as he worked to untie her. “it’s okay,” he murmured, his voice shaking. “you’re okay. i’ve got you. don’t look.”
but you didn’t move.
you couldn’t.
your knees buckled, and you crumpled to the floor, your body wracked with silent sobs. 
josh. your josh, was gone. the one person who mattered most to you, the only source of true comfort that you had, was gone.
your eyes stayed fixed on the blood-soaked floor, on the mangled remains of the person you loved.
he was gone.
cut in half.
gone.
you hugged yourself tightly, rocking back and forth as grief consumed you, an unbearable weight that left you hollow and broken.
chris turned to you, his face pale and etched with guilt. he opened his mouth, but whatever words he tried to speak were drowned out by the sound of your own sobs, tearing through into the cold, unforgiving night. 
it echoed around you, a resonance that mocked the void where he used to be.
you could still hear him, josh's voice screaming for you in those final moments. still feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your ear when you used to lie close to him. it was nothing but a ghost now. a cruel reminder of what was gone. he wasn’t there anymore. he would never be there again.
your thoughts spiralled. chris. it was all chris's fault. he had made the choice. not josh. chris. he chose ashley. he chose her over him. his crush over his childhood best friend, your love, your person. the realisation hit.
before you knew it, you were moving, your grief boiling over into something darker. you snapped to your feet, crossing the space between you and chris in an instant. your trembling hands hit his chest, his shoulders. whatever you could reach, your fists weak but desperate.
“why?” you choked out, your voice breaking as you struck him again. and again. “why? we could’ve found another way! how could you do this? how could you do this to me?”
chris didn’t stop you. he stood there, letting you vent your anguish, his own tears carving silent trails down his face. he didn’t try to defend himself, didn’t make excuses. ashley stood nearby, distraught and useless, her sobs muffled behind her hands as she watched the scene unfold.
your blows slowed, turning into open palms pressed against him, you collapsed against his chest. the grief overtook you, the strength to hold it all inside shattered. you cried into him, the rawness of your pain spilling out in broken gasps and incoherent words.
for a moment, chris tried to hold you. his arms moved hesitantly, afraid to make things worse. but the second you felt him, your anger surged again, and you ripped yourself away. “don’t touch me,” you hissed, your voice shaking. you stumbled back, wiping at your face, dragging air into your lungs that felt too thin.
you couldn’t stay here. not in this place. not with these people who used to be your friends. you turned away from them and staggered outside into the night. the cold air bit into your skin, but it didn’t matter. nothing mattered anymore. not without him.
the lodge loomed behind you like a reminder of everything you’d once loved. 
deep down, you knew it didn’t matter who had been chosen. losing either of them would have been devastating, a blow from which you would never truly recover. but that logic was lost in the haze of your grief. it didn’t matter that the decision had been impossible. all you knew, all you could feel, was that chris had made it.
he had chosen not to save josh.
you stumbled a few steps further, every breath was agony. the grief, the disbelief, the rage. it all swirled inside you, drowning you in it’s weight.
it felt as though someone had reached into your chest and ripped out your heart, leaving you to feel nothing but also everything at the same time. you stared at the distant treetops, the stars blurred by tears, and tried to feel something other than the nothingness threatening to consume you. 
your chest heaved as you bent forward, hands braced on your knees, gasping for air that seemed almost impossible to catch. the night’s chill clawed at your skin, but it did nothing to numb what burned inside you.
the crunch of footsteps on snow made you look up, your tear blurred vision settling on emily and matt as they approached cautiously. their faces twisted with confusion and fear as they took in the sight of the three of you. shaking, pale, and splattered with blood.
emily was the first to speak, "what happened?" her voice was sharp but laced with unease. matt hovered beside her, his wide eyes darting between you, the blood, and sounds of the sobs that you shared.
you straightened slowly, forcing yourself to meet their stares. your voice trembled as you tried to speak, every word catching in your throat like broken glass.
“it’s josh,” you rasped. “he
 he’s gone.”
emily’s lips parted in disbelief, she faltered as she tried to process the words. matt stiffened, his jaw clenching as his hands balled into fists at his sides.
“what do you mean, gone?” emily asked, her voice wobbling. her eyes darted between you and the shed, expecting josh to emerge at any moment, laughing this off as a cruel joke.
you opened your mouth, but the words refused to come. instead, fragments of the moment flashed in your mind. the split second choice, the screams, the sound of your own heart breaking. you winced, flinching at the memory, wrapping your arms around yourself.
“chris
 he had to choose,” you finally whispered, your voice barely audible over the wind. “it was him or ashley.”
the weight of the admission crushed you all over again, and for a moment, the only sound was the muffled sniffling from you and the distant howl of the wind. emily stared at you, her face draining of colour, while matt swore under his breath and looked away.
“that doesn’t make any sense,” emily whispered, her tone brittle. “how could something like that even happen? why–why was there a choice at all?”
her words struck a nerve, but you didn’t have the strength to argue. you couldn’t. the truth of it was unbearable, but it was all you had.
“i didn’t
 i didn’t even get to say goodbye,” you choked out, your voice breaking. tears welled up again, blurring your vision. you turned away, clutching your arms tightly, trying to breathe through the pain.
you hear them talking. quietly at first, but the words soon cut through the air. they’re discussing the psycho on the mountain, piecing together what had happened. the conversation ends with emily and matt deciding to head to the fire tower to try and contact someone on the radio, and chris suggests you and ashley go with him to find sam, still hopefully holed up in the lodge.
you say nothing. you just follow them, keeping your distance but staying close enough to hear the whispers. the words between them are too loud for their own good, a mix of fear and regret, constantly circling back to josh.
ashley’s voice cracks as she speaks to him, her apologies tumbling over each other. “i know how close you were to him,” she says, her voice low. “i– i just... i never meant–”
she stops herself. the realisation hits her. she turns to you, eyes wide with guilt, as if suddenly aware of the weight of her words.
her face is full of remorse, her lips parting to offer an apology, but you can already feel the anger bubbling up inside you.
you clench your jaw, your fists tightening at your sides. she doesn’t get it.
“don’t. you don’t get to talk about him,” you bite out, the words sharp. “you don’t get to. not after what happened.”
the air between you is heavy with tension. ashley opens her mouth, but nothing comes out. she knows. she knows there’s no fixing this. you didn’t want her to. how could she?
you charge upstairs, your legs trembling with every step, but the adrenaline doesn’t let you stop. it fuels you, because you can’t stop. not now. not with sam missing. not with everything spiraling further and further out of control. 
you don’t even bother hiding the tears streaming down your face anymore. you just need to find her and get out of this godforsaken place. this needs to end.
you’re done with the fear. you want to go home, to a place where things made sense. you want to feel safe again, slip into your bed where his scent still lingers, and just
 cry. to finally feel the pain and let it break you. 
the hallway stretches out before you, quiet and eerie, the air heavy with the silence that feels so much worse than any scream. your breathing is ragged as you throw open door after door. 
"sam!" you call, but there’s no answer. just empty rooms. no sign of her. each door you open makes your stomach twist tighter with dread, like a rope being pulled too taut.
you jog back down stairs, walking to the entrance of a room you haven't checked yet.
the movie room is where it all comes crashing down. her bracelet. you spot it immediately on the floor, lying there as if it’s mocking you. you freeze, staring at it. she never takes it off. never. your heart drops, she was here. and she’s not anymore.
you stumble forward, picking it up with shaking hands. it’s so small in your palm, so simple, but it’s hers. it’s hers, and it’s the only sign of her that you’ve found. and then you see it. the video.
it’s looping on the projector, a grotesque, grainy replay of josh’s death. over and over. the sound of his screams fills the room, echoing in your ears, drowning out your own sobs. chris is already on it, slamming his fist into the projector, but it’s no use. the damn thing won’t stop playing. he kicks it, hard enough to send it skidding across the room, but it keeps playing.
you double over, clutching your stomach as if it’ll stop the nausea rising in your throat. it’s too much. all of it. the weight of what you’ve lost, the guilt, the fear, it’s suffocating. the bracelet in your hand feels like a cruel reminder that sam could be next. or maybe she already is. and what the hell can you do about it?
“we have to keep moving,” chris says. you know he’s right, even if you can’t bring yourself to say it. you wipe your face with the back of your sleeve and force your legs to move, one step at a time, until you’re following him down to the basement.
the air is colder down here, and not just in temperature. it feels
 wrong. like something is watching. waiting. ashley’s hand brushes yours at one point, a trembling, silent plea for some kind of comfort, and you squeeze it instinctively. you don’t say anything, though. what is there to say?
then, it appears. the ghost. at first, it’s just a pale blur in the corner of your eye, but then it comes again. clearer this time. the faint outline of a figure, there and then gone before your brain can catch up.
ashley screams, stumbling back into chris, who immediately snaps into denial. “there’s no way–” he starts, but then it happens again, and the words die in his throat.
your pulse is nothing but a hammer in your chest. you can’t even feel your hands anymore; they’re ice, like the rest of you. you scan the room, every dark corner, every shadow, but it’s the dollhouse that pulls your attention. it sits there, perfectly positioned, it’s tiny rooms lit by some unseen source. 
the dolls inside. each one carefully placed, are positioned just like that night. like the prank. like what happened to hannah.
you couldn't even touch it at first. your fingers hover over the tiny furniture, shaking too much to do anything else. you open it and you see her diary.
the pages are worn, the ink smudged in places like she’d cried over it while writing. you skim the entries, your chest tightening with each one. her excitement about mike. her insecurities. the little hopes she’d held onto, even when things were rough. you can see her in the words, hear her voice, and it breaks you all over again.
she trusted you. she trusted all of you. and what happened? she was pushed too far, and now she’s gone. her warmth, her kindness, her life, gone. 
the tears come harder now, but you don’t stop reading. you owe her this.
you don’t realise how long you’ve been standing there until chris nudges your shoulder. “hey,” he says, softly this time. “we
 we should go.”
the basement hallway stretches out further than you thought it would, the shadows growing deeper with each step. then you see it. a figure. sam’s clothes, and for one awful, heart stopping moment, you think it’s her. you freeze, the air ripped from your lungs, until chris steps closer and pulls the chair into the light. it’s not her.
relief floods through you, but it’s short lived. she’s still missing, and the nightmare is still far from over. you glance at ashley, whose eyes are wide with panic, and then at chris.
chris looks just as distraught as you, his face pale, his hands trembling as he struggles to stay composed. you want to say something, anything, but the words won’t come. that’s when you notice it. a shadow shifts behind him, barely noticeable at first. it moves closer, and your heart leaps into your throat.
your mouth opens to scream, to warn him, but it’s too late. a figure lunges out of the darkness, fist connecting with chris’s face in a brutal, sickening thud. his head snaps to the side, he crumples to the floor, out cold.
“chris!” you gasp, but there’s no time to check if he’s okay. the flashlight he was holding clatters to the floor, spinning wildly before it’s beam settles on the attacker. he turns toward you and ashley, his movements deliberate, methodical.
ashley is quicker than you expect. before you can react, she rushes forward, gripping the scissors. she drives them into his shoulder with a desperate cry, the blade sinking in deep. the attacker stumbles back, a low, pained grunt escaping him, but it’s not enough to stop him.
he moves with startling speed, grabbing ashley by the wrist. she struggles, kicking and thrashing, but his free hand rises, before she can break free, his fist connects with her face in a brutal blow. the impact sends her crumpling to the floor in a heap on the floor, her body still.
“no!” the word tears from your throat. helpless, as the reality sets in. you’re on your own, and your only weapon is still lodged in his shoulder.
you turn to run, your legs screaming at you to move, before you can take more than a step, something sharp pierces your neck. it’s small, almost subtle, but the effect is immediate. your hand flies to the spot, fingers trembling as they brush against the tiny dart embedded in your skin.
a whine escapes your lips as your knees buckle. the world tilts violently, the edges of your vision blurring. panic claws at your chest as you try to stay upright, your body refuses to listen. your legs give out completely, you fall, the ground rushing up to meet you.
before you hit the floor, strong arms catch you, pulling you against a broad chest. you’re too weak to fight, your limbs heavy and useless.
“i’m sorry,” a voice murmurs, low and distorted, the words muffled by the mask obscuring his face. “i’m so sorry.”
you try to focus, to make sense of what’s happening, the world is fading fast. the last thing you see before the darkness takes you is the mask staring back at you, it’s blank, soulless eyes the final image burned into your mind.
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you wake slowly, your eyelids feel weighted, your thoughts sluggish and out of sync. something isn’t right. your instincts scream it before your senses can confirm. when your eyes finally flutter open, the world above you sharpens into focus. two massive saw blades hang ominously overhead, their jagged teeth gleaming under harsh fluorescent lights.
it’s the next sensation that sends a chill crawling up your spine, your wrists. they’re bound tightly, the rough rope digging into your skin with every small movement. you yank at them, testing the restraint, but it holds firm, the fibres biting deeper.
panic sparks, your breath becoming faster as you look around, desperate to understand where you are, what’s happening. the room is cold and industrial, its concrete walls bare except for the shadows cast by flickering lights. your gaze snaps to the figure directly in front of you, chris.
he’s slumped in a chair, his head hanging slightly, his face pale and tight with fear. one of his hands is bound to the armrest, but his other arm hangs free. between you, perched cruelly sits a gun.
your chest tightens as you try to move your legs, only to realise they’re tied too. the ropes around your ankles bite just as viciously as the ones on your wrists. you twist and pull, but your body feels sluggish. the injection, that stranger. you’re still under it’s influence, your limbs betraying your desperation to escape.
“chris?” your voice is hoarse, trembling, thick with fear. “what’s going on? where are we?”
he lifts his head slightly, meeting your eyes with a look that chills you to your core. his face is a mix of confusion and terror, his lips parting to speak. “i don’t know.”
your mind reels, memories flooding in, the shed, the others, the horrific choices. 
the weight of what’s coming feels unbearable.
“we’ve gotta get out of here,” you whisper, your voice trembling, barely audible over the relentless pounding of your heartbeat.
that’s when you hear it. the saws.
the metallic whine cuts through the air as the blades begin to descend, slow but deliberate. the sound, growing louder with each passing second. your head snaps upward, and the sight of the spinning teeth edging closer sends a fresh wave of panic through you.
“no!” you scream, thrashing against the restraints, your wrists burning as the ropes cut deeper into your skin. the effort is frantic, wild, but useless. the ropes don’t budge. you feel like you’re suffocating, the walls of the room closing in.
and then they stop.
the saws are still whirring, still spinning inches above your head, but their descent halts. the silence that follows is almost worse than the noise. 
that’s when you hear it.
that voice again.
“hello there, my special little subjects.”
your stomach twists as the sound crawls over your skin. chris freezes across from you, his head snapping up toward the speakers embedded in the walls.
“aw, shit,” he mutters, his free hand darting for the gun on the table between you. he grips it tightly, holding it up defensively as though the steel in his hands could somehow protect you both from the nightmare unfolding around you.
the voice continues.
“chris has made one fatal choice already today, and now he must make another.”
you and chris lock eyes, the horror in his matching your own. your breaths come faster, you shake your head desperately, trying to deny the inevitable.
the voice pauses, as if savoring the moment, before delivering the final blow.
“chris, you can take the gun in front of you and shoot her, or you can shoot yourself. whoever is left gets to live. the choice is yours.”
your stomach churns, your chest tightening so much it hurts.
“no,” you whisper, shaking your head, your voice trembling. “no, this can’t–this can’t be real.”
chris’s hand shakes as he lifts the gun, his knuckles white around the handle. his gaze flickers to the saws above you, still spinning mercilessly, then to you, and then back to the gun.
“don’t look at me like that,” he says, his voice barely steady. “there’s gotta be a way out. this
 this doesn’t make sense.”
he turns the gun toward the machinery and fires. the deafening crack of the shot echoes in the room, but it does nothing. the saws keep spinning. the gun’s recoil jerks his arm, and he mutters a curse under his breath, lowering it slightly as the futility of the situation sinks in.
“no, no, no,” you mutter, panic clawing at your chest. you thrash against the restraints again, harder this time, your vision blurring with tears.
“chris,” you rasp, your voice breaking. “you have to do it.”
“what?” his head snaps toward you, his eyes wide with disbelief.
“shoot me.” the words come out stronger than you expected, but the tremor in your voice betrays your fear. “you have to. you can’t–” your voice falters, and you swallow hard before continuing. “you can’t kill yourself. you have ashley. you can live. you can make it out of this. i–i can’t.”
“what the hell are you talking about?” chris’s voice rises, desperation thick in every syllable. 
“i’m not doing that! we’ll figure something out– together.”
“there’s nothing to figure out!” you cry, your voice raw. tears spill down your cheeks, but you keep going, words tumbling out in a frantic rush. “chris, i can’t live without josh. don’t you get it? i’m already gone. he was everything to me, and now he’s dead. i don’t have anyone to go back to. but you– you have ashley. she loves you. you can still have a life.”
chris shakes his head violently, his grip on the gun trembling. “no. don’t– don’t say that. don’t you dare say that. you think this is what i want? to kill you? how the hell am i supposed to live with that?”
“by being alive!” you scream, your voice cracking. “chris, please. i can’t– i can’t do this anymore. just end it. end it for me. you don’t deserve to die here. not for me. not like this.”
tears streak his face now, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps. the gun in his hand wavers, the barrel swinging between you and himself.
“i can’t,” he whispers, his voice breaking. “i can’t do it.”
“you have to,” you plead, your voice softer now, almost broken. “please, chris. you have to make it out of here. you have to live. for ashley. for yourself. for me, don’t let this place take you too.”
the saws above you screech, jolting both of you. the voice returns, colder now, more impatient.
“time is running out, chris. make your decision.”
chris’s face crumples as he stares at you, the weight of the choice pressing down on him. his hand tightens around the gun, shaking harder now.
you hold his gaze, tears streaming down your face. “it’s okay,” you whisper, your voice trembling but resolute. “it’s okay. just do it. i’m ready.”
the gun rises.
the room feels impossibly still, the only sound the relentless whir of the saws above. your chest heaves with shallow breaths as you close your eyes, waiting for the end.
BANG.
the sound reverberates through the room, deafening and final. you jolt, your body stiffening in anticipation of pain, but... nothing. you’re still here. alive. untouched.
your chest heaves as you slowly open your eyes, your breath caught in your throat. chris is staring at you, his face pale and drawn, his expression one of shock and bewilderment. he’s just as confused as you are.
the saws above you screech to a halt, the room plunging into a sudden, eerie silence.
you blink, trying to process what just happened. “chris?” you whisper, your voice trembling.
before he can answer, the overhead lights blaze to life, harsh and unforgiving. the sudden brightness makes you wince, and when your eyes adjust, you see him.
the psycho.
he steps out of the shadows, his mask gleaming under the fluorescent lights. he moves with a slow, deliberate confidence, as though savoring your fear. your heart pounds wildly in your chest, the sight of him terrifying you.
“no,” you stammer, your voice rising in panic. “no, no, no! get away from us!”
chris, snapping out of his stupor, raises the gun without hesitation and fires.
bang!
bang!
bang!
three shots. each one echoes through the room, but the psycho doesn’t even flinch. he doesn’t stumble, doesn’t react. it’s like the bullets didn’t touch him.
“oh, chris...” the voice is mocking now, dripping with condescension. the psycho moves closer, his head tilting as if amused. “oh, chris, chris, chris, chris, chris.”
chris’s grip tightens on the gun, his knuckles white. “what the fuck?!” he shouts, his voice cracking with frustration and fear.
the psycho chuckles, a low, sinister sound that sends chills down your spine. he circles the table slowly.
“you’ve heard of blanks before, haven’t you?” he says, his tone smug and condescending. “i mean, really?”
chris freezes, the gun lowering slightly as the psycho’s words sink in. blanks.
you feel your stomach drop. the tension in the room grows unbearable as the psycho stops beside you, his presence radiating menace. he tilts his head, examining you for a moment before turning his attention back to chris.
“i mean, come on,” he says with a smirk in his voice. “you really thought i’d make it that easy?”
his hands move to the edges of the mask, and your breath catches in your throat. the anticipation is unbearable as he lifts it, slowly revealing his face.
your eyes widen in disbelief, shock and horror flooding through you as the truth clicks into place.
it was him all along.
the sound of the door screeching open echoes through the space, but you can’t bring yourself to look away from him.
your entire body feels like it’s been hollowed out, like every breath has been violently torn from your lungs. your mouth is open, but no words come out, no sound—just the sharp, jagged edges of disbelief slicing through you.
josh.
josh, your josh. the one you saw ripped in half, his blood pooling across the floor in a scene so horrific it seared itself into your memory. the man you mourned, grieved for so deeply it felt like the world might never make sense again.
and yet here he is, standing before you.
“josh?” mike’s voice cuts through the silence, almost as if he’s trying to convince himself of what he’s seeing.
you can’t think, can’t move. it’s like the pieces of reality are crumbling apart and leaving you suspended in this unbearable moment. how is this possible? how is he alive? and more terrifyingly– why?
a tidal wave of emotions crashes over you. confusion, relief, anger, betrayal. all churning into a storm so violent you don’t even know which way is up anymore. your head drops, the tears come, shaking you to your core. but the sobs are silent, strangled by the sheer weight of it all. 
you cry so hard your entire body trembles, the kind of crying that leaves you gasping for air but never getting enough.
sam rushes over, her hands working to untie the ropes binding your wrists. “it’s okay,” she murmurs, though her voice shakes as much as your hands do. “we’ll figure this out. you’re okay. i’ve got you.”
but even as she says it, you can hear her unspoken doubt. she doesn’t understand what’s happening any more than you do.
and then josh laughs.
it starts low, a chuckle that grows louder, sharper, until it fills the room. the sound is manic, cruel, cutting through your grief.
“oh, very good! every one of you! got my name right!” he says, his voice dripping with mockery, arms flung wide as if he’s addressing an audience. “and after everything you’ve been through– wow!”
your stomach twists painfully as his words sink in, each one laced with something venomous. he paces the room, looking at each of you in turn, his grin widening as he feeds off your reactions.
“good, good, good. i mean, how does that feel?” his eyes flick to you, it feels like the winds been knocked out of you. “huh? do you enjoy feeling terrorized? humiliated? panicked?”
his voice rises with every word, his arms flailing dramatically.
“all those emotions my sisters got to feel one year ago! only guess what? they didn’t get to laugh it off! no, no, no! they’re gone!” he stops, his face twisting into something wild and unhinged.
mike steps forward, his expression dark, his body tense. “i don’t know if you’ve noticed, josh, but none of us are laughing.”
chris then speaks up, there’s a venom in his voice you’ve never heard before. “you want to talk about humiliation? about terror?” he jabs a finger in josh’s direction, his voice rising with every word. 
“do you have any idea what you’ve done to her? to all of us? you died, josh. we thought you were dead! she—” he gestures toward you, his voice cracking. “she begged me to shoot her because of what you did! she wanted to die, josh! because of you!”
josh’s manic energy falters, his expression slipping into something more subdued. his mouth opens like he wants to argue, but nothing comes out.
chris steps closer, his face inches from josh’s now. “you think this is justice for your sisters? you think this is what they’d want? or are you just too wrapped up in your own goddamn head to see the difference?”
josh stares at chris, his lips trembling, his confidence visibly cracking.
but you’re not watching them anymore. you’re staring at the ground, your vision blurred by tears. his voice, his face, his laugh. it’s too much. it’s all too much.
“hey,” josh says softly, steps toward you, his voice lacking the bravado it held moments before. 
“hey, it’s okay. i– it’s me. it’s josh. i’m here now.”
you feel his arms around you, warm and familiar, and for a fleeting second, you almost give in. almost let yourself believe that this is the josh you knew, the josh you loved.
but then reality slams into you like a freight train.
“no!” you cry, shoving him away with every ounce of strength you have left. he stumbles back, his face a mask of shock and hurt.
you take a step back, your chest heaving, your voice trembling with betrayal. “how could you do this to me? to us?”
josh’s hands rise defensively, his eyes wide. “i– i didn’t mean–”
“don’t you dare,” you snap, you point at him. “don’t you dare act like this was some accident. you planned this, josh. you planned it, and you knew what it would do to me!”
your voice shatters into a sob as you turn away from him, collapsing into sam’s arms. she catches you, holding you tightly as you bury your face in her shoulder.
“it’s okay,” she whispers, her hand rubbing soothing circles on your back. her voice is steady, but the anger in her eyes as she glares at josh is unmistakable. “i’ve got you. it’s okay.”
josh takes a step toward you, his hands reaching out. “please, i–”
sam’s glare sharpens, “don’t. you’ve done enough.”
josh stops, his arms falling to his sides. the room is heavy with silence now, the weight of his betrayal suffocating.
and for the first time, you see it on his face, realisation. guilt. maybe even regret.
but it doesn’t matter. nothing he says or does will undo what’s already been done.
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comments and reblogs are appreciated ˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗ @antihuntress
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© ruewrote 2024.
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mariwatchesmovies · 18 days ago
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Ghostlight (2024) dir. Alex Thompson & Kelly O’Sullivan cine. Luke Dyra
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skullislandproductions · 14 days ago
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Celebrating Presidents’ Day here in the United States, with two of our greatest, our First Catmander in Chief, and The Great Emousepator!
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moviemosaics · 7 months ago
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Ghostlight
directed by Kelly O'Sullivan and Alex Thompson, 2024
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vsthepomegranate · 1 year ago
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sohannabarberaesque · 2 months ago
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Talk about your "climb to the clouds," and with Tom and Jerry besides!
It just seemed a little out of the ordinary for such a cat-and-mouse chase team like Tom and Jerry to make their way to New Hampshire's Presidential Range of the White Mountains and attempt what could be the acme of cat-and-mouse chases.
But they did ... even considering Mount Washington's notoriety for rough weather as gives it the nickname "Misery Hill" and the 138 winding turns of the Mt. Washington Auto Road (7.6 miles, climbing 4,200 feet from the Toll Gate to the Mt. Washington summit) on whose side the chase was pulled off. Pulled off by way of sneaking past the Toll Gate as is traditionally seen as Mile 0 thereof off Route 16 in New Hampshire and, in line with sound practice, facing oncoming (downhill, know) traffic on the left-hand side of the Auto Road. Some of it bound to be stopped because of overheated brakes, the bane of driving downhill in steep terrain like Mt. Washington.
Yet considering the comparitive sizes of a mouse like Jerry (whose eyes would be closer to the ground) and a cat like Tom (whose size was bound to cause him to be distracted from time to time by the panoramics of the Presidential Range, made worse by want of guardrails along the highway, tight "hairpin" turns, grades ranging from 12-18% throughout, with a 22% incline just before the summit, increasing altitude and reduced oxygen levels on the ascent--and increased UV levels from the thinner air at high elevations, with the potential for eye damage without proper sunglasses.
Even if it meant having to dodge cars parked to cool off the brakes from time to time (as well as passing at least three electric vehicles heading downhill who have it easy thanks to regenerative braking systems), having to as much catch wind as take in the panorama on occasion and adjust to the sharp turns on occasion on a now-paved-throughout highway ... as well as Jerry having some sense in putting on decent Foster Grants shortly after beginning the ascent, with Tom fumbling for cheap such he got from some second-rate gift shop a few miles back, eventually to be his unravelling when the cat got distracted by as much bright sunlight as a spectacular view down a ravine close to treeline, causing him to fall down and stumble.
Yet it seemed rather amazing how such a mouse as Jerry could make it through such otherwise gruelling conditions in the heighth of the summer season after Tom's misfortune got the better of him ... leaving you to wonder how such a mouse could manage the final 22% uphill ascent just before the summit, trying to catch the last bit of wind by the Tip Top House, considered more or less to be the top of Mt. Washington.
Followed by Jerry's crossing paths with cousin Nibbles on the observation deck of the Sherman Adams Summit House, a cup of some hot cappuccino to warm and regenerate before heading down by way of the Mt. Washington Cog Railway--through the courtesy of an engineer on one of the Cog Railway's homebuilt biodiesel engines, catching wind on the descent even as they passed beside one of the steamers making the uphill climb and smelling such heavenly fragrance as coal smoke.
As for Tom ... a training drill for mountain rescue crews was being carried out later that evening, and the dazed and bruised body of the cat, still trying to catch wind, was gathered and brought to a heliambulance parked slightly downhill in a clearing. Imagination will need to fill in the details ensuing.
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reggieponder · 9 months ago
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Ghostlight Directors Kelly O'Sullivan & Alex Thompson: Interview
I had the opportunity to speak with the directors of the movie Ghostlight, Kelly O’Sullivan and Alex Thompson. Ghostlight is currently in theaters and “centers on Dan Mueller, a blue-collar father and husband trying to cope with the suicide of his son a year earlier. When an actor named Rita draws Dan into her small community theater’s production of Romeo and Juliet, Dan meets a group of

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tieflingkisser · 16 days ago
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This is what America looked like before the EPA cleaned it up
It wasn’t pretty.
In 1970, Republican President Richard Nixon signed an executive order creating the United States Environmental Protection Agency (EPA). It was a time when pollution made many of our nation’s rivers and streams unsafe for fishing or swimming. Back then, New York City’s air pollution was so thick that you often couldn’t see the city’s iconic bridges. Forty-seven years later, there is serious talk of dismantling the agency, or at least slashing its size by two-thirds. But what does America look like without the EPA? From 1971 to 1977 the nascent agency, in an act of prescience, enlisted the services of freelance photographers to help us remember. These photographers captured images of America’s environmental problems before we’d cleaned them up. In 2011, the US National Archives digitized more than 15,000 pictures from the series “Documerica”. Here are some of the most compelling.
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The Atlas Chemical Company Belches Smoke across Pasture Land in Foreground. 06/1972 Marc St Gil / EPA
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Smog Hangs Over Louisville And Ohio River, September 1972 William Strode / EPA
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Smog Lingers Over Louisville Skyline, September 1972 William Strode /EPA
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Broken Glass From “No-Deposit, Non-Returnable” Bottles Along the Washington Shore of the Columbia River in a Public Picnic Area. Such Bottles Are Illegal Across the River in the State of Oregon 04/1973 David Falconer / EPA
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The Job Of Clearing Drift From The Potomac And Anacostia Rivers Is Done By The Army Corps Of Engineers, April 1973 John Neubauer / EPA
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Mary Workman Holds A Jar of Undrinkable Water That Comes from Her Well, and Has Filed A Damage Suit Against the Hanna Coal Company 
 10/1973 Erik Calonius / EPA
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lemonsandmermaids · 22 days ago
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Ask Vaudeville: April 6, 2016
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uncle grandpa got cancelled so I guess this is relevant now??
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nena-la-fresa · 4 months ago
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can i ask u a Josh Washigton x reader request? I would love to read an scenario were its the reader's birthdayđŸ„č
Keep It Warm
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18+ Account | Minors DNI | Do NOT Follow, Like, or Comment | Pls have your age in your bio, if you do not I will automatically block you because I’ll assume you are a minor.
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Pairing: Josh Washington x f! Reader
Warning: Fluff | A tiny bit of Angst | Mental Institution Mentioned | Birthday |
Word Count: 685
A/n: Hopefully this is okay. I feel like I can’t make a Josh fic without some sort of angst. Sorry it's super short. I have a lot of class assignments due this week so my focus is on that rn. Off topic but I'm thinking about making a Mr.Robot fic. Im back in my Rami Malek era.
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“You are receiving a call from Ocean View Hospital. Would you like to accept?” 
“Yes.”
The line was then connected. 
“Hey sweetheart. How are you?” You could hear his sly look through the phone. 
You leaned against the wall fiddling with the hem of your shirt. 
“I’m good. How about yourself?” You missed hearing his voice. 
“I’m good now.” 
“Oh are you really?” 
“Yeah. I’m just glad I get to hear you talk. It’s a good distraction from all this.” 
“I’m glad I can distract you for a bit.” 
You had been friends with Josh since you both were little. You had always known something was a bit different with him. But it wasn’t until you both started dating that you had fully known the extent of his condition. Josh would wake up during the night screaming, he’d have a hard time recognizing you at times.
“So my birthday’s coming up.”
“It is, isn't it.” 
“Do you think you’ll finally be out by then?”
“I’m not too sure babe. But if I’m doing better by then you'll be the first to know.” 
You felt slightly disappointed but you knew he was in there to get the help he needed. 
That was 3 weeks ago. 
You hadn’t heard from Josh since that last phone call. He hadn’t been returning your letters or phone calls. You had begun to assume the worst. What if he didn’t want to talk to you anymore? Or what if he regressed? What if his meds stopped working. Even when you asked Hannah and Beth they hadn’t been able to contact him either. 
All you could think about was the day you found him. You could still see it. He was passed out on the floor. He was unresponsive for a good minute before you had to throw cold water on him. He was sobbing, saying how he wasn’t good enough for you. Saying that he didn’t deserve you. But those sobs quickly turned to anger, not at you but to whatever was talking around him. He swatted trying to get the voices away from him. But what really did it for him was when he accidentally hit you. The guilt that he felt, he didn’t mean it. He wasn’t aiming for you. He couldn’t even see you with his delusions tormenting him. That was what really made him commit himself. 
Hannah knew how upset you were but she thought it would be a good idea to take you to the cabin for your birthday. You had always said it was your favorite place to go. 
You and Hannah were already making your way to the cable cart, “Didn’t you say Beth was going to meet us here?” 
Hanna turned slightly to you, “Yeah, she got cold and just texted me that she was going to go ahead to the cabin.”
You nodded. After the walking you could finally see the cabin in sight. It was just as beautiful as you remembered it. Hannah held the door open for you as you walked in first. You felt your body jolt from the yelling. 
“Surprise!” Little poppers and kazoos echoed through the room. 
“Aw you guys.” You felt your eyes tear up a bit. From the excitement but also from the disappointment. Out of all the faces there, the one you wanted the most wasn’t there. 
You let out a surprised scream feeling someone picking you up from behind. As soon as you were set back down you saw who it was. 
Until you felt someone pick you up from behind 
It was him. 
“What did you think I forgot?”
You felt the tears run down your face. You nodded slightly.
"Now why would I forget about you."
You hugged him tightly, feeling his arms wrap around you.
“When did they let you out?”
“About three days ago.”
“Why didn't you tell me”
“I wanted to surprise you. I'm sorry”
“No, I'm just so happy. I’m so glad you’re here.”
“I promise I won’t miss another one.”
He wiped your tears, “I missed you so much. I’m sorry. I’ll do better. I promise.” 
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marleneoftheopera · 2 months ago
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Phantom & LND Gifts!🎁
Another holiday season, another round of gifts! Wishing you all a gentle and restful holiday and New Year. Here's hoping for a good next year, or at least an uneventful one. Included are some new recordings, some older, and some that have already been shared but are current favorites of mine. All audios are to be traded as normal, the videos can be either traded or gifted at the request of the master.
https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1xVsYDH_tmMNR6fJxEgssH93TdD6v5Ux6?usp=sharing
https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1Y0Wd5RicQyy3CwEBV6Wu2TqQjMOp0aKx?usp=sharing
https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1_anh8dlNcFG-kgZTllARNWckAX97_mKj?usp=sharing
The Phantom of the Opera
Glyn Kerslake, Jill Washington, Chris Harley, Anthony Raffell, Leo Andrews, Jasna Ivir, Heather Jackson, David Hillman, Amanda Light March 6, 1999; London
Marcus Lovett (Phantom), Anna O'Byrne (Christine), Antony Hansen (Raoul), Lara Martins (Carlotta Giudicelli), Barry James (Monsieur Firmin), Gareth Snook (Monsieur André), Louisa Lydell (Madame Giry), Jeremy Secomb (Ubaldo Piangi), Layla Harrison (Meg Giry) October 26, 2012; London
Jeremy Secomb (Phantom), Ashleigh Fleming (Christine), Sean Palmer (Raoul), Lara Martins (Carlotta Giudicelli), Andy Hockley (Monsieur Firmin), Martin Ball (Monsieur André), Shena Sanders (Madame Giry), Marc Vastenavondt (Ubaldo Piangi), Cat Lane (Meg Gir July 31, 2014; London
Leonardo Neiva (alt. The Phantom), Giulia Nadruz (alt. Christine), Fred Silveira (Raoul), Sandro Christopher (Firmin), Marcos Lanza (André), Bete Diva (Carlotta), Cleyton Pulzi (Piangi), Taís Viera (Madame Giry), Fernanda Muniz (Meg) July 28, 2018; Brazil
David Thaxton, Kelly Mathieson, Danny Whitehead (u/s) January 26, 2019; London
Tim Howar, Amy Manford (alt.), Danny Whitehead (u/s), Kimberly Blake, Paul Ettore Tabone, Ross Dawes, Alan Vicary, Rachel Spurrell (u/s0, Georgia Ware, Tim Morgan, Kris Manuel, Adrian Delacey, Matt Bateman, Paul Erbs September 3, 2019; London 4 days before cast change. Really great quality and this is one of my favorite Wishing’s. A must have!
John Martin Bengtsson, Hanna Ulvan, Jonathan Boiers, Anna Hammarqvist, Filip Barna, Sebastian Lamberth, Anton Salvin, Hanna La Fleur, Johanna Westholm March 4, 2023; Kristianstad Evening
James Gant (u/s), Paige Blankson (alt), Matt Blaker, Kelly Glyptis, Greg Castiglioni, Matt Harrop, Tim Southgate (u/s), Emma Harris (u/s), Ellie Young May 17, 2023; London
Jon Robyns (Phantom), Eve-Shanu Wilson (u/s Christine), Joe Griffiths Brown (Raoul), Kelly Glyptys (Carlotta), David Kristopher Brown (Piangi), Leonard Cook (u/s Firmin), Adam Listead (AndrĂš), Francesca Ellis (Madame Giry), Maiya Hikasa (Meg), James Gant (Auctioneer), Samuel Haughton (Reyer), Hywell Dowsell (Don Attilio), Andrew York (u/s Lefevre), Connor Ewing (u/s Buquet-Marksman), Simon Whitaker (Passarino), Michael Colbourne (Hairdresser), Zoe Vallee (Confidante) September 27, 2023; London
Geronimo Rauch (Phantom), Tal​ia del Val (Christine), Ruben Lopez (u/s Raoul), Omar Calicchio (Firmin), Enrique del Portal (Andrù), Marta Pineda (Carlotta), Francisco Ortiz (Piangi), Silvia Luchetti (Madame Giry), Laura Martin (Meg), Alejandro Rull (Buquet), Sergi Albert (Auctioneer/Lefevre), Ezequiel Salamann (Passarino), Alberto Sanchez (Attilio) October 27, 2023; Madrid Matinee
Jon Robyns, Chumisa Dornford-May (alt), Joe Griffiths-Brown, Kelly Glyptis, Adam Linstead, Matt Harrop, Francesca Ellis, David Kristopher-Brown, Maiya Hikasa March 15, 2024; London Chumisa's debut!
Nadim Naaman (Phantom), Georgia Wilkinson (Christine), Dougie Carter (Raoul), Lara Martins (Carlotta), Rhidian Marc (Piangi), Nicholas Garrett (Firmin), Arvid Larsen (André), Valerie Cutko (Madame Giry), Nikki Skinner (Meg Giry), Aaron Price-Lewis (Buquet), Paul Erbs (Monsieur Reyer), Daniel Jasuz Holley (Auctioneer/Fop 1 (Il Muto)), Kyle Nolan (Fop 2 (Il Muto)), Grace Chapman and Iris Toula-Gourgiotou (Confidente 1 and 2 (Il Muto)), Michael Franks (Don Attilio), Josh Hankey (Passarino), Michael Kirby and Joseph Birstow (Stagehand 1 and 2), Stavros Volkos (Monsieur LeFÚvre / Firechief) April 19, 2024; Bulgaria (Middle East Tour) (When I got sent these either the files and/or I might've messed up whether this is the matinee or evening show lol.)
Anton Zetterholm, Lillian Maandag (u/s) Roy Goldman, Milica Jovanovic, Greg Castiglioni, Thomas Sigwald, Rob Pelzer, Eva Maria Bender (u/s), Laura May Croucher May 19, 2024; Vienna Matinee
Dean Chisnall, Lily Kerhoas, Joe Griffiths-Brown, Joanna Ampil, Adam Linstead, Martin Ball, Helen Hobson, David Kristopher Brown, Millie Lyons September 30, 2024; London
Greg Castiglioni (u/s), Lisanne Clémence Veeneman (Christine Daaé), Roy Goldman, Milica Jovanovic, Thomas Sigwald, Rob Pelzer, Patricia Nessy, Robert Meyer (u/s), Laura May Croucher October 23, 2024; Vienna
Love Never Dies
Bronson Norris Murphy, Meghan Picerno, Sean Thompson, Jake Heston Miller, Karen Mason, Mary Michael Patterson, Katrina Kemp, Richard Koons, Stephen Petrovich October 2, 2018; Philadelphia Evening show, opening night. marleneoftheopera's master. Note: This was my first time recording an audio. The quality is pretty nice though in my humble opinion, you can hear everything well. Cast is brilliant.
Patrick Stanke, Martina Lechner, Sebastian Seitz, Sarah Gadinger, Manja Stein, Sophia Gorgi, Thomas Wissman, Maike Katrin Merkel, Dani Spampinato June 19, 2024; Magdeburg First open air production of the show, non-replica.
POTO Videos
Ted Keegan (u/s The Phantom of the Opera), Julia Udine (alt Christine Daaé), John Riddle (Raoul, Vicomte de Chagny), Raquel Suarez Groen (Carlotta Giudicelli), Craig Bennett (Monsieur Firmin), Nehal Joshi (Monsieur André), Maree Johnson (Madame Giry), Carlton Moe (Ubaldo Piangi), Sara Esty (Meg Giry), Carrington Vilmont (Auctioneer), Tug Watson (s/w Monsieur Reyer/Hairdresser), Scott Mikita (s/w Jeweler), Richard Poole (Monsieur LefÚvre/Firechief), David Michael Garry (Joseph Buquet/Don Attilio), Jeremy Stolle (Passarino), Kfir (Solo Dancer ("Hannibal")), Justin Peck (Solo Dancer ("Il Muto")), Kanisha Marie Feliciano (Page), Chris Georgetti (Porter/Fireman), Satomi Hoffmann (Wardrobe Mistress/Confidante), Elizabeth Welch (Princess ("Hannibal")), Kelly Jeanne Grant (Madame Firmin), Paul A. Schaefer (Marksman) April 3, 2023; Broadway Heavily obstructed, most of it is audio. Major songs included, WFMtrades' master.
Ramin Karimloo (The Phantom of the Opera), Amelia Milo (Christine Daaé), Bradley Jaden (Raoul, Vicomte de Chagny), Anna Corvino (Carlotta Giudicelli), Ian Mowat (Monsieur Firmin), Earl Carpenter (Monsieur André), Alice Mistroni (Madame Giry), Gian Luca Pasolini (Ubaldo Piangi), Jeremy Rose (Monsieur Lefevre/Don Attilio), Matt Bond (Joseph Buquet), Mark Biocca (Capo Balletto), Nicola Ciulla (Gioielliere), Chiara Vergassola (Confidante), Luca Gaudiano (Parrucchiere), Antonio Orler (Passarino), Marianna Bonansone, Martina Cenere, Robert Ediogu, Stefania Fratepietro, Jessica Lorusso, Marta Melchiorre, Margarita Toso July 15, 2023; Italy Heavily obstructed, most of it is audio. Major songs included, WFMtrades' master.
Dean Chisnall, Lily Kerhoas, Joe Griffiths-Brown October 9, 2024; Broadway Heavily obstructed, runs from the Prologue through MOTN. London's 38th anniversary! WFMtrades' master.
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punkrockhistory · 5 months ago
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34 years ago
Bikini Kill was formed on October 1990 in Olympia, Washington by Tobi Vail, Kathleen Hanna, Kathi Wilcox and Billy Karren
Here with her most famous song Rebel Girl, which brought their breakthrough
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bikinikillarchives · 2 years ago
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Tumblr media
Kathleen Hanna, Bellevue Washington, 1986.
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sapropel · 10 months ago
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Biden administration denies that Hamas accepted ceasefire proposal
The Biden administration has denied in a news briefing that Hamas accepted a ceasefire proposal yesterday.
“[State Department spokesperson] Matthew Miller said that Hamas did not accept the ceasefire proposals, it responded and in their response made several suggestions. This is very different interpretation of what Hamas itself thinks that it did, and is certainly the kind of comment that could have an impact on what is happening in Cairo at present,” Al Jazeera correspondent Mike Hanna reported from the State Department in Washington, DC.
Al Jazeera
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sohannabarberaesque · 3 months ago
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Postcards from Snagglepuss
And you're probably asking how the Thanksgiving dinner went, and then some
Whomever had it that Thanksgiving dinner had to feature turkey or ham as the preeminent main dish and nothing else probably didn't know that "the exception proves the rule." Which, in our own case, featured roast pork loin and many other commonplace trims of the holiday din-din. And for a party of twelve (including The Banana Splits as guests, not to mention the Hair Bear crew and those ursine lovers Emmy Lou and Jenny Lee), how it managed to come off like it did took something of a miracle for the space Crazy Claws has at his Artificial Lake Delton stomping grounds.
Even the combination of cranberry-orange juice, ginger ale and Cheerwine into a holiday punch worth remembering certainly won plaudits, as if featuring ciabatta rolls wasn't quite a change already. Admittedly, given their hard and crusty texture, such required getting used to for such otherwise accustomed to brown-and-serve such, let alone such warmed up in the microwave beforehand (take that, Jane Jetson!).
Even as a pace changer for the dinner, roast pork loin couldn't have been more worthwhile, especially when seasoned in such a way to bring out the flavour: As in packets of G. Washington's Seasoning and Broth, both the Rich Brown and Golden varieties, sprinkled atop the roast before going into the oven. "Wasn't there anything tastier?" was how Huckleberry Hound remarked about the exceptional juiciness and tenderness ensuing.
And how were we to know that the pork loin roast came out so that there were barely any leftovers, what with the surprise guests in the form of Bingo, Drooper, Fleegle and Snorky, who, believe you me, certainly had the retreat floored with such raucous stories as they offered on the road while seeking to reclaim themselves out of being reduced to Mud thanks to that awful horror film, R-rated even?
(Oh, and did I mention where the Splits brought over some of their own-creation trail mix--as in dry-roasted peanuts, plain M&M's, dried banana slices and roasted pumpkin seeds--for us to snack on as the evening wore on and the punch flowed freely?)
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lingthusiasm · 3 months ago
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Lingthusiasm Episode 98: Helping computers decode sentences - Interview with Emily M. Bender
When a human learns a new word, we're learning to attach that word to a set of concepts in the real world. When a computer "learns" a new word, it is creating some associations between that word and other words it has seen before, which can sometimes give it the appearance of understanding, but it doesn't have that real-world grounding, which can sometimes lead to spectacular failures: hilariously implausible from a human perspective, just as plausible from the computer's.
In this episode, your host Lauren Gawne gets enthusiastic about how computers process language with Dr. Emily M. Bender, who is a linguistics professor at the University of Washington, USA, and cohost of the podcast Mystery AI Hype Theater 3000. We talk about Emily's work trying to formulate a list of rules that a computer can use to generate grammatical sentences in a language, the differences between that and training a computer to generate sentences using the statistical likelihood of what comes next based on all the other sentences, and the further differences between both those things and how humans map language onto the real world. We also talk about paying attention to communities not just data, the labour practices behind large language models, and how Emily's persistent questions led to the creation of the Bender Rule (always state the language you're working on, even if it's English).
Click here for a link to this episode in your podcast player of choice or read the transcript here.
Announcements: The 2024 Lingthusiasm Listener Survey is here! It’s a mix of questions about who you are as our listener, as well as some fun linguistics experiments for you to participate in. If you have taken the survey in previous years, there are new questions, so you can participate again this year.
In this month’s bonus episode we get enthusiastic about three places where we can learn things about linguistics!! We talk about two linguistically interesting museums that Gretchen recently visited: the Estonian National Museum, as well as Mundolingua, a general linguistics museum in Paris. We also talk about Lauren's dream linguistics travel destination: Martha's Vineyard.
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Here are the links mentioned in the episode:
Emily Bender
Emily Bender on Bluesky and Twitter
Mystery AI Hype Theater 3000
Mystery AI Hype Theater 3000: The Newsletter
The AI Con by Emily M. Bender and Alex Hanna
'Data Sovereignty and the Kaitiakitanga License' on Te Hiku
wordfreq by Robyn Speer on GitHub
Lingthusiasm Episode ‘Making machines learn language - Interview with Janelle Shane’
Bonus with Janelle Shane: we do a dramatic reading of the funniest auto-generated Lingthusiasm episodes
You can listen to this episode via Lingthusiasm.com, Soundcloud, RSS, Apple Podcasts/iTunes, Spotify, YouTube, or wherever you get your podcasts. You can also download an mp3 via the Soundcloud page for offline listening.
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Gretchen is on Bluesky as @GretchenMcC and blogs at All Things Linguistic.
Lauren is on Bluesky as @superlinguo and blogs at Superlinguo.
Lingthusiasm is created by Gretchen McCulloch and Lauren Gawne. Our senior producer is Claire Gawne, our production editor is Sarah Dopierala, our production assistant is Martha Tsutsui Billins, our editorial assistant is Jon Kruk, and our technical editor is Leah Velleman. Our music is ‘Ancient City’ by The Triangles.
This episode of Lingthusiasm is made available under a Creative Commons Attribution Non-Commercial Share Alike license (CC 4.0 BY-NC-SA).
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