#cancel utah

[linuxealcipher]

SOBBING SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP!!!!!

[dykehayleywilliams]

pmore slc getting cancelled honestly just shows how i never lose <- i lose constantly but am delusional enough to twist my Ls into Ws

[jackieexxo]

I started watching some Utah games and I can't tell you the number of times I do a double take on Alex Kerfoot thinking it's Trouba

[softwaluigi]

oh my fucking god I need squeaky cheese Right Now

[saltcxrcle]

hold me, console me ── . ✶ s. winchester

summary: sam's not answering your texts, so you panic and track him down to a hospital OR where dean finds out that you and sam are dating

pairings: established sam winchester x witch!reader, sam winchester x gn afab!reader, sam x jinx!ノ wc: 3.3k warnings: no use of 'y/n', reader is a witch and referred to as jinx, based on my headcanons for this verse, angst, some hurt/comfort, fluff, dean being dean, slightly suggestive but not really, title is a lyric from no one noticed by the marias, kinda edited; all mistakes are my own a/n: happy birthday to sam winchester the loml!! lol ik im still technically on a hiatus but i had to post this in honor of his birthday and i've been meaning to write this since like march and ive been wanting to write for this universe again and so i finally finished it!! i still have shit ton of school work to do but trust ill be coming back soon (and hopefully with a mini series to post for you guys!) but in the meantime enjoy the fic <33 sam winchester masterlist | season of the witch masterlist

IF SAM WASN’T DEAD YET, YOU’D KILL HIM YOURSELF. 

It wasn’t like Sam for him to leave your messages unread for more than a day or two, but he had been MIA for almost three days at this point. You didn’t want to jump to any conclusions, knowing how rough some hunts got for the brothers—but there was this pit in your stomach that wouldn’t go away no matter how much tea you drank or how much you tried to distract yourself, the feeling persisted. 

You were distracted in class. You knew it, and your students knew it. You glanced down at your phone a couple of times while your students were doing group work that you had assigned after your short lecture. You looked at the digital clock that was mounted on the wall on the other side of the lecture hall. 

You quickly got the attention of the class—noting that you had about fifteen minutes before class ended and brought them back from their conversations. You guys had a quick class discussion before dismissing them. Some of your students lingered to ask you a few questions about the assignment you had assigned. You quickly answered them, trying not to be rude to them—eager to leave for the day and head back home, hoping that Sam would have texted you back by now. 

You had to resist the urge to check your phone at each stop light as you drove home from the university. You all but shot out of your car with your work bag, your phone clutched tightly in your grip as you made your way inside your house. Your bag fell onto the wooden table with a small ‘thump’ and ignored the way your cat was brushing up against your legs, and you stared blankly at your screen. 

Your message still hasn't been seen by Sam. You swallowed the lump of dread that was stuck in your throat as the little white letters reading ‘Delivered’ on your phone taunted you. You let out a harsh breath through your nose as your mind conjured up the worst scenarios that Sam could be in right now. 

Seeing Sam’s lifeless eyes flash through your mind and snap you out of your stupor, not wanting to entertain the idea that he was dead. You turned off your phone, tossing it on your kitchen table, right next to your bag as you walked down the hallway and opened the door to your office that doubled as your witchy workspace (Sam came up with the name and always called it that on the rare occasion he stayed over). 

You gathered the ingredients for tracking spells, some enchanted fire, and a spare map of the country. You took a deep breath before murmuring some Latin before lighting the map on fire. The spell took no longer than forty-five seconds to perform, and you were left with Sam’s location. You swiftly figured out that he was in a hospital in Hyde Park, Utah. After making a few phone calls and canceling class—you were on a redeye flight to the closest airport to that city. 

It was safe to say that your anxiety was at an all-time high at this point as you gripped the armrest of the chair. You couldn’t stay still, your knee bouncing up and down rapidly as you stared hard outside of the airplane window. You were grateful that there was practically no one on this flight—it wasn’t a commercial flight, the plane being a tad bit smaller than your average one, but you thought that no one was heading to Utah this time of year. 

You thought the next time you’d see Sam, you would be excited to see him and his infuriatingly gorgeous face, but you were uneasy and tense as you impatiently waited for the flight to be over. 

“Would you like something to eat or drink?” A kind voice pulled you from your spiraling thoughts. 

You tore your eyes away from the window to the flight attendant, who had a polite smile on her face as she waited for you to respond. 

You cleared your throat. “Yeah, do you guys have any tea?” 

She nodded. “We have chamomile, jasmine, green, or hibiscus tea.” 

“I’ll take some chamomile.” You sent the flight attendant a smile, but it didn’t reach your eyes as your lingering thoughts of Sam started to become more prevalent. 

“Okay, I’ll be right back with your tea.” She sent you another smile before making her way down the aisle and to her station. 

You let out a long breath before looking back out the window. Once you had landed (the chamomile tea you had did nothing to calm your nerves), you immediately got into the rental car and made your way to the hospital he was in. Did you break a few traffic laws? Well, if no one caught you, did you really break them? But you made it to the hospital in record time as you quickly parked and made your way into the lobby of the sterile building. 

When you entered the lobby, Dean was sitting on one of the chairs waiting for Sam to be discharged and immediately spotted your frazzled condition with your slightly rumpled clothing and frizzy hair—a stark contrast to your usual put-together outfits and calm composure. His eyebrows furrowed at the sight of you, confused as to how you knew where they were and why you were even there.

Just before you were going to ask the receptionist about Sam, the elevator doors opened—your head instinctively jerked in the direction of them, and out came your boyfriend, looking worse for wear but alive. 

The pit in your stomach finally settled, and a wave of relief washed over you. You didn’t even notice Dean getting from his chair and heading towards you. Your eyes were strictly on a limping Sam heading down the hallway toward the lobby.

You didn’t think as your feet started to carry you to Sam, his eyes finally dragging up from the floor and meeting your teary gaze as you met him in the middle of the hallway. His eyes widened, filled with confusion as you approached him with determined steps. 

Uncaring of who was around you, you didn’t hesitate to gather Sam’s face in your hands and pressed your lips against his. You could feel Sam's surprise at the initial contact—but he sank into the familiar feeling of your soft lips moving against his. Sam’s hands came to rest on your waist as your hands cradled his face, feeling the warmth of his cheeks against your chilled palms. 

Dean looked at the scene in front of him with widened eyes, a myriad of emotions coursing through him. Saying that Dean was shocked was an understatement. Seeing Sam kiss the witch that he would consider an ally/reluctant friend was something he wouldn’t have imagined in a million years—but here was his brother kissing you back in front of him. 

Sam pulled back, registering that Dean was right behind you and the fact that you were standing in front of him. His eyes darted to Dean, trying to read the expression plastered on his face, but it was unreadable. 

Sam’s attention was drawn back to you. “What are you doing here?” He asked after clearing his throat, a knot of nerves tangling up in his stomach. 

“Really?! That’s the first thing you ask me? I should be asking you that question Winchester.” You thrust a finger at his chest, “You were the one who hasn’t responded to me in almost four days.” You huffed, “You never do that without a warning.” You added quietly.  

Sam winced at the use of his last name. You were definitely mad at him. He grabbed the hand you were pointing at him with, rubbing circles into the back of your hand to try and quell your rising anger. 

“I know, I’m sorry. We got caught up in the case and when we were tracking the nest, there were a lot more than we anticipated and they got one over on us. My phone broke and well,” Sam gestured to his slightly battered appearance, “You can guess what happened after.” 

The anger left your body as your eyes raked over Sam’s figure—there was a gash on his forehead and on the bridge of his nose, and you can only imagine what he looked like underneath his clothes—it must have been serious if Dean had taken Sam to the hospital. 

Your shoulders relaxed as you sighed. “Sorry, I just got caught up in my head and it jumped to the worst possible situation you could have been in.” 

Sam smiled down at you, his hands resting on your shoulders. “You have nothing to be sorry for. You were just worried.” He leaned down and kissed your forehead. “It’s cute that you were though.” Sam murmured into your forehead before pulling away. 

You lightly hit his stomach in retaliation, a playful scowl on your face before it morphed into a tender smile that mirrored Sam’s. 

“Not trying to break up this very heartwarming reunion, but when did this even happen?” You jumped at the sound of Dean’s drawling voice and whipped around to see him standing behind you with crossed arms and an impassive expression plastered on his face.

Sam moved past you, hiding you behind him, shielding you from the potential wrath of Dean. “Can we do this at the motel?” Sam said sharply, before sending his brother a look—a silent conversation passing through the two of them before Dean scowled slightly. 

Dean stalked off, grumbling under his breath. Sam let out a breath before turning to you.

“He’s gonna kill me isn’t he?” 

Sam shook his head. “He won’t, not if I have anything to say about it. Besides, Dean likes you more than Rowena.” 

“I think you mean he tolerates me more than her.” You pointed out. 

It wasn’t lost on you the fact that Dean hated, no loathed, witches with a passion. You knew he was reluctant to work with you from the minute that you told them that you were one yourself—always keeping you at arm's length and telling you the second that you stepped out of the proverbial line, you’d get a witch-killing bullet to the skull. 

“Trust me, he’d call you before calling Rowena for help.” 

You raised an eyebrow at him. “Because he knows I wouldn’t ask for anything in return other than the promise that you guys won't ask for my help again.” 

“And yet you still help us. Wonder why that is?” Sam asked with a cheeky smile on his face. 

You rolled your eyes. “Let’s get to the motel before your brother actually decides to kill me.” 

You followed behind the Impala in your rental car to the motel the boys were staying in and quickly parked. You were led to their room, and it felt like you were in trouble and got sent to the principal’s office.  

Dean stood across the room from where you and Sam were. You were standing by the entrance just in case things went south and you could make a quick escape.

“So,” Dean started, with his hands on his hips like a disappointed father ready to scold his kids. “How long has this been going on?” He gestured to you and Sam with a slight frown on his face. 

You and Sam glanced at each other before Sam cleared his throat. 

“Almost a year.” Sam scratched at the back of his neck, a sheepish expression on his face as he took in the look of surprise that passed through Dean. 

Dean’s brows furrowed, clearly connecting the dots in his mind. “So, when you said you were-” 

“Yeah, I was visiting Jinx.” Sam cut him off, confirming his suspicions. 

Dean let out a breath. “Okay.” 

You and Sam exchanged confused looks with one another. 

“What do you mean by ‘okay’?” You spoke for the first time since you entered the room.

“I mean, you guys can date or whatever you guys have been doing for the past year. It’s none of my business.” Dean shrugged before moving to the mini fridge in the room and grabbing a beer. 

You were sure you were living in an alternate universe right now. Dean Winchester giving you the seal of approval (or what you considered the seal of approval) to date his brother. 

“But if you hurt my brother or do anything to betray us, you know I won’t hesitate to plant a-” 

“I got it. Any bodily harm or emotional damage done to any of you and I don’t ever see the light of day again.” You interrupted quickly, “Heard you loud and clear.” You sent Dean a tight smile as he raised his beer in the air towards you, a silent confirmation and agreement of your words. 

Sam rolled his eyes at his brother, but he was relieved that Dean didn’t make it a bigger deal than it needed to be. 

You turned to Sam. “I’m going to grab another room.” You glanced between the two brothers, and there was lingering tension. You figured that they needed to settle before you headed back home. 

Sam nodded and kissed your cheek before you left the room. Once the door shut with a soft click, Sam stared at Dean, who was sitting at the edge of the bed he had claimed to be his own almost a week before. 

“So, you’re really okay with it? Me being with Jinx?” Sam questioned as he sat down on his bed. 

Dean took a sip of his drink before responding. “Yeah, I mean I would have preferred someone who wasn’t a witch.” Dean joked before looking at Sam. “You’ve been happier lately and I couldn’t figure out why, but now I do. As much as I hate to admit it, you’re good for each other.” 

Sam shook his head at his brother. Always count on Dean to give the both of you a backhanded compliment. “Thanks. I think?” A slightly puzzled smile on Sam’s lips. 

“No problem.” 

There was a knock on the door, and Sam got up and gingerly walked (limped) to the door and saw you with your bag slung on your shoulder, a tired smile on your face. 

“Got a room?” Sam asked as leaned on the doorway. 

You nodded in response before jostling your bag by your side. “I brought some things to help speed along the process.” You gestured to his injured face. “Walk with me to my room?” 

Sam nodded before turning back into the room and grabbing his bag from the floor. “I’m going with Jinx, don’t wait up.” He informed Dean. 

Dean’s lips pulled up into a sly grin. “Okay, make sure you wear protection! I don’t want to be an uncle right now.” 

Sam’s cheeks flushed red. “Fuck off Dean.” He quickly closed the door, cutting off the boisterous laugh that escaped Dean. 

An amused smirk was on your face at the scene and at Sam’s reddened cheeks. 

“I hate him.” Sam breathed out. 

You couldn’t help the small chuckle that left you, making Sam snap out of his embarrassment and smile down at you. You smiled back at him before you started to walk to your room, Sam following close behind. 

Once you made it into the room, you quickly ushered Sam to the nearest bed and set your bag down right next to him as he got settled on the edge of it. You pulled out the various healing salves and bandages that you hastily packed before leaving your house. 

“Take off your shirt.” You told him as you opened the lid to one of your salves. 

“At least take me to dinner first.” Sam teased as he unbuttoned the flannel he was wearing. 

“Haha. Very funny.” You shot him a deadpan look, but the corner of your lips was twitching, threatening to pull into a smile.

He pulled off his shirt, trying to hide the grimace of pain that passed through his face as his ribs were screaming in protest from the movements. His sides and ribs were bruised, and his torso was covered in minor nicks and gashes that were covered in gauze and that needed to be changed. 

You worked quickly, the room filled with silence but being broken once in a while with the harsh intake of breath that Sam would have if you pressed into a tender spot. As you worked, Sam took the time to let his eyes roam your face and figure. It had been almost a month and a half since he had seen you in person, and even though your appearance had barely changed, he could see the worry etched into your features. 

Sam instinctively raised his hand and used his thumb to smooth out the wrinkle between your brows. You looked up from bandaging the last gash in his tanned skin, meeting his hazel eyes. 

“Hey, I’m okay.” He murmured as Sam’s hand moved to cup your face. 

You let out a shuddering breath and leaned into the warmth of his palm. All of the stress and anxiety that you were trying to suppress for the past twenty-four hours seemed to unravel at the comfort Sam was trying to provide. You could feel your eyes start to sting with tears, and before you knew it, one fell from your eye unwillingly—then others began to follow it in its footsteps down your face. 

Sam was quick to pull you into his lap, and you went willingly. His arms wrapped around you as you tucked your face into his neck, tears streaming down your face as you silently cried in the comfort of Sam’s arms. Sam didn’t say anything, pressing the occasional kiss to your head as one of his hands rubbed your back and the other cradled your head. 

Eventually, your tears stopped, and Sam moved the two of you back onto the bed, heads resting on the pillows as you faced each other. Sam wiped your face, which was wet with tears, before pressing a soft kiss on your forehead, then one on either of your cheeks, another on the tip of your nose—making you smile, before pressing his lips against yours in a tender kiss. 

Sam poured all of the reassurances and unspoken promises into the kiss, sending warmth through your chest as you sank into his embrace. You eventually broke the kiss, Sam pressing one last lingering peck on your lips before resting his forehead against yours, breathing in the comforting scent of jasmine, honey, cinnamon, and something that he could only describe as distinctly you. 

Sam’s mouth moved before he could even think about what he was saying. “Move in with me.” 

Your eyes snapped open as you stared into the intense hazel hue of his eyes, trying to find any kind of teasing or amusement in his gaze. 

“You’re serious?” You whispered. 

Sam nodded, his hair shifting against the pillowcase as he kept his eyes trained on you. 

“What does Dean think about this?” 

“Dean can deal with it. We have plenty of room in the bunker, and it would be more convenient than driving out to meet you or ask for help.” Sam started to spout out reasons why you should move in with him. 

Before he could get ahead of himself, you shut Sam up by placing a hand on his mouth. “I’ll think about it. And I’d rather not move in if Dean isn’t okay with it, so please ask him.” 

Sam moved your hand from his mouth, a slight pout on his face, and looked at you with pleading eyes. 

You groaned slightly at the sight of Sam’s puppy eyes. “Don’t give me that look, I didn’t say no. Just let me sit on the idea before we jump the gun, okay?” You told him. You knew if you moved in with him, you’d say goodbye to the life that you built for yourself and take a plunge back into the hunting life.  

Sam sighed but nodded. “I love you.” He whispered in the little space that you shared with him.

“I love you too Sammy.”

[whataboutyouisamascot]

Oh that does Not Sound Good

...Tornado warning? Here?

[rjzimmerman]

Excerpt from this story from the New York Times:

At first glance, Dave Langston’s predicament seems similar to headaches facing homeowners in coastal states vulnerable to catastrophic hurricanes: As disasters have become more frequent and severe, his insurance company has been losing money. Then, it canceled his coverage and left the state.

But Mr. Langston lives in Iowa.

Relatively consistent weather once made Iowa a good bet for insurance companies. But now, as a warming planet makes events like hail and wind storms worse, insurers are fleeing.

Mr. Langston spent months trying to find another company to insure the townhouses, on a quiet cul-de-sac at the edge of Cedar Rapids, that belong to members of his homeowners association. Without coverage, “if we were to have damage that hit all 17 units, we’re looking at bankruptcy for all of us,” he said.

The insurance turmoil caused by climate change — which had been concentrated in Florida, California and Louisiana — is fast becoming a contagion, spreading to states like Iowa, Arkansas, Ohio, Utah and Washington. Even in the Northeast, where homeowners insurance was still generally profitable last year, the trends are worsening.

In 2023, insurers lost money on homeowners coverage in 18 states, more than a third of the country, according to a New York Times analysis of newly available financial data. That’s up from 12 states five years ago, and eight states in 2013. The result is that insurance companies are raising premiums by as much as 50 percent or more, cutting back on coverage or leaving entire states altogether. Nationally, over the last decade, insurers paid out more in claims than they received in premiums, according to the ratings firm Moody’s, and those losses are increasing.

The growing tumult is affecting people whose homes have never been damaged and who have dutifully paid their premiums, year after year. Cancellation notices have left them scrambling to find coverage to protect what is often their single biggest investment. As a last resort, many are ending up in high-risk insurance pools created by states that are backed by the public and offer less coverage than standard policies. By and large, state regulators lack strategies to restore stability to the market.

Insurers are still turning a profit from other lines of business, like commercial and life insurance policies. But many are dropping homeowners coverage because of losses.

Tracking the shifting insurance market is complicated by the fact it is not regulated by the federal government; attempts by the Treasury Department to simply gather data have been rebuffed by some state regulators. 

The turmoil in insurance markets is a flashing red light for an American economy that is built on real property. Without insurance, banks won’t issue a mortgage; without a mortgage, most people can’t buy a home. With fewer buyers, real estate values are likely to decline, along with property tax revenues, leaving communities with less money for schools, police and other basic services.

And without sufficient insurance, people struggle to rebuild after disasters. Last year, storms, wildfires and other disasters pushed 2.5 million American adults out of their homes, according to census data, including at least 830,000 people who were displaced for six months or longer.

[laughtervomitdoll]

creepypasta headcanons I have. Liu, Jeff, EJ, Jane, clockwork, and Toby in that order.

Tw drug use, sexual abuse mention

Might do more once my paranoia dies down

Liu

-Has a mad crush on Eyeless Jack but hates himself too much to think anyone could ever love him

-was 23 when Jeff murdered their parents and all that

-field medic of the proxies. Eyeless is the doctor, Liu is out in the field. He took three online anatomy courses before giving up, making him the second most qualified doctor. Frequently lectures Toby on where the arteries and vital organs are.

-Recovered addict. Hit rock bottom after going on the run from killing that nurse and converted to catholicism in NA. Wears his scarf and jacket as much as possible to hide the track marks but no one's ever noticed them regardless.

-Fell off the wagon when he had to leave a proxy to die in the field to save another, but Jack cried when he had to narcan him so he got right the fuck back on

-theater kid. Has gotten drunk once and sang Noel's Lament perfectly in front of everyone but will deny it ever happened if asked.

-grew up mormon, in utah, went on a mission before Jeff ruined his life (I'm sorry guys the remake story is the most st george coded shit I've ever read)

Jeff

-also raised mormon because he's liu's brother. Pisses in the flower beds of any temple he sees because he wants to and feels like it.

-car guy. No justification. I can just see him creaming his pants at a car show and cussing Toby out for ticking while he's holding the flashlight under the hood of an old firebird he's fixing up.

-was seventeen when he murdered his parents. Fell in love with a sex worker after he fucked up his face and she was the only person not to run away (for a price) and will get fucking pissed at anyone who even implies that he might be traumatized by it.

-uses a switchblade instead of a kitchen knife after tripping and accidentally stabbing himself while carrying the big knife in his hoodie

-let Nina give him a tattoo that says "Wicked Clowns Never Die" but Liu laughed for fifteen minutes straight when he saw it so now Jeff is embarrassed by it

-everyone knows he's gay except for him.

Eyeless Jack

-Has a mad crush on Liu but hates himself too much to think anyone could ever love him

-over a hundred years old. I felt like the tar ritual that made him a demon would be a tar-and-feathering sort of deal. Jeff will call him Chicken Man when he's being a dick.

-Got really into the whole "raw meat" fitness trend on social media because he eats like that anyway.

-big boy. Organs are really calorie dense. I will not be taking criticism.

-his face isn't necessarily inhuman, but he looks more like a melted wax figure under the mask. Mouth a little crooked, eyes a little too long...uncanny valley mostly.

-He can't actually see. He's got freaky demon powers, though, that let him "see" the veins, arteries, and other equivalent systems in living things. He can get around just fine in the forest because it's all alive, but he needs a white cane if he goes to the city.

Nina

-bought a tattoo gun for 50$ and drew a bunch of hearts and stars all over her arm. Begs people to let her tattoo them. VERY passionate about how racist the tattoo industry can be about colored tattoos on dark skin, and she is very determined to learn how to tattoo properly so she can make sure everyone can have cool color tattoos. EJ begrudgingly let her tattoo a flower on him because of this and it looks terrible, but he appreciates the sentiment.

-hardcore fujoshi but only because she hasn't figured out she's nonbinary yet

-not great on personal hygiene, but neither is Jeff so it doesn't bug her. Does not shave for shit (queen)

-has the most tone deaf true crime channel where she does mukbangs and romanticizes serial killers. Has been cancelled at least three times.

-incredibly creative with cursing. This girl could make a sailor blush when she gets mad. Once ended an argument with Ben when he had to Google what she just called him.

Jane

-drug dealer for the proxies. You can smell her coming from a mile away because of how much weed she smokes. Stays at the manor despite her hatred of serial killers for the money, which she sends to her sister.

-Mostly stays depressed in the attic, ocassionaly coming down to smoke out Nina, who she only likes because she's just unapologetically insane and entertaining. Did a true crime mukbang with her once but had to leave halfway through because it pissed her off.

-really likes plants. Her room looks like a jungle. Has installed at least ten new shelves in the attic to support her plant addiction.

-plays video games with Ben. They tolerate eachother because they're the only ones good enough at games to give the other a challenge.

-tried getting therapy through betterhelp. It ended about as well as you'd expect.

-fucking hates cops. She has to resist the urge to shred pork when she's in the city doing a drug run. Comes with the "hating people who kill remorselessly" territory but it could also be because she's committing several felonies and is on edge.

-oceans of lesbian porn on her computer and so many sex toys good lord

Clockwork

-has a dissociative disorder, but it doesn't present like Liu and Sully in the sense that she had a split personality, moreso that it just makes her lose time. OSDD-1A if you want to get technical.

-raging kleptomaniac. She hasn't paid for anything in years. Goes into a blind rage when people tell her to get a real job because she already loses enough time as it is, and says it's cruel to expect her to throw more of it away.

-immediately came out as gay and shaved her head after reading Stone Butch Blues. Nina cuts her hair. It never looks great, but it looks good enough to Nat.

-She's the only one at the manor that Jeff and Toby are wary of, and won't even take off her shirt to let Liu or Jack patch her up. They need to call Jane down to help and give her instructions from outside the door. It's entirely a trauma thing.

-Really smart and witty when she's in a good mood. In good weather she'll be laying in a hammock outside either crocheting or reading a book. Her favorite genre is fantasy.

-Tried hosting a DND night but it just kind of went up in flames because of the way everyone is.

Toby

-this boy is a little too rough at best and a raging sadist at worst. The CIPA just makes him unaware that people can even feel pain until they're screaming in agony, and at that point he just gets fascinated.

-Also has really bad health anxiety. Life expectancy for people with CIPA is 21 because they don't feel those aches and pains that tell them something is wrong and that they need to go to the doctor. He's 24 and constantly getting hurt

-Once got an x-ray and the doctor called everyone in the gawk at how many of his bones had healed improperly.

-jeff made fun of him because his mouth guard looked like a muzzle and accidentally gave him a barking tic

-Collects bones. My au centers around a group of people that failed at their jobs as proxies and are forced to work as crime scene cleanup for the operator, so Toby doesn't get to keep the bones of most of his kills. Jeff will ocassionaly bring him a bone or a dead bird like the goddamn lapdog he is and it makes his fuckin day.

[boyfriendtodeathconfessional]

The artist nano0o0 on here in the btd fandom they drew white washed strade and tried to pass it off as a "joke" when people were saying they are weird in the comments

I understand you're passionate about this, but let me make something clear: they didn't pass it off as a joke, it IS a joke.

The post in question. This post is a play on fanart commonly featuring Strade drawn as a white man, for some reason. If it was unsettling and offensive, that's the point. Because the actual art depicting him as such is, or at least it should be. This is observational humor. It's parody, if not intentionally ironic, and even satirical. The only reason this joke works is because of how wide-spread this issue is in the fandom. If Strade were never white-washed, this would be eyebrow raising instead of funny.

The captions already speak the full transparency of the users intent. It's supposed to be awful, and it is. It's sick. He looks like he was born and raised in Utah and his name is Kyle. But they're not poking fun at the fact they white-washed a character, they're poking fun at the fact so many genuine artists do this unironically.

Finally, if you can not accept my terms of keeping peoples username's off my profile in negative lights then I will block your anon's. Calling people cancel-culture buzzwords when you yourself don't understand the situation is incredibly dangerous and can damage people's online presence and their mental health, and sometimes even their sources of income.

Everyone can have an opinion. I am not saying you're not allowed to find this weird. But what I am saying is that your feelings are not objective and you can't use them as proof or evidence for this, that, or the other.

Was this post racist? Can this question be answered and agreed on by everyone? No?

Don't worry about.

[usafphantom2]

Where are the SR 71’s today?

They are all on display in America with one exception. #962 is at Duxford, Great Britain. this SR-71 was the one that was the most frequently stationed in Great Britain It’s a permanent loan from the United States to Great Britain with our thanks.

Arizona

#17951 flew on March 5, 1965, and served as a test bird throughout its career. It is currently displayed at the Pima Air Museum, Tucson, AZ.

California

California is home to more SR-71 aircraft than any other state. It houses six of them, listed below:

•SR-71A #17955 - AFFTC Museum, Edwards AFB, CA.

•SR-71A #17960 - Castle Air Museum near Atwater, CA.

•SR-71A #17963 - Beale AFB, CA.

•SR-71A #17973 - Blackbird Airpark, Palmdale, CA.

•SR-71A #17975 - March Field Museum, March AFB, CA.

•SR-71A #17980 - NASA's Dryden Flight Research Center as #844.

Florida

In Florida, specifically at the USAF Armament Museum, Eglin AFB, FL, the SR-71A #61-7959, also known as the "Big Tail," is on display. This nickname dates to 1975, when it was chosen as the platform for a new series of sensors placed in an extension towards the rear of the aircraft . The last flight of this aircraft took place on October 29, 1976

Georgia

At the Museum of Aviation, Robins AFB, GA, the Blackbird SR-71A #17958 is on display. According to various records, on July 28, 1976, this example facilitated a human being (pilot captain Eldon W. Joersz and major RSO George T. Morgan Jr.) to reach the highest speed ever aboard an aircraft.

Kansas

SR-71A #17961 accumulated 1601 flight hours until February 2, 1977, the date of its last flight. It is currently on display between a Northrop T-38 Talon advanced trainer and a life-size replica of the Space Shuttle at the Kansas Cosmosphere and Space Center, Hutchinson, KS

Louisiana

At the 8th Air Force Museum, Barksdale AFB, LA, the SR-71A #17967 is on display, one of two examples reactivated in 1995 for USAF service before the program was canceled in 1998. Over the years, this aircraft accumulated more than 2700 flight hours.

Texas

At the USAF History and Traditions Museum, Lackland AFB, TX, is SR-71A #17979, which was used as a reconnaissance aircraft during Operation Giant Reach in the Egyptian-Israeli war.

Michigan

Two trainer variants were built, denoted SR-71Bs. One crashed on approach to Beale AFB on January 11, 1968, while the other, SR-71B #17956, is displayed at the Kalamazoo Aviation History Museum in Kalamazoo, MI. This SR-71 has more flight hours than any other Blackbird, nearly 4000, and is believed to have been photographed more times than any other.

Nebraska

At the Strategic Air and Space Museum near Ashland, NE, SR-71A #17964 is on display. Its first flight took place in 1966, and the last in 1990, when it was delivered to Offutt AFB, NE, to be permanently exhibited

Ohio

The first operational ( Jerry O’Malley and Ed Payne) mission of an SR-71 was carried out by SR-71A #17976 before concluding its career with about 3000 flight hours. It is among the first SR-71s to be permanently exhibited and best preserved. It is displayed at the National Museum of the United States Air Force, Wright-Patterson AFB, OH.

Oregon

Below the right wing of Howard Hughes' H-4 Hercules at the Evergreen Aviation Museum in McMinnville, OR, is the most complete and accurate SR-71, SR-71A #17971, which has accumulated over 3500 flight hours.

Utah

As mentioned, after January 11, 1968, when half of the SR-71 trainer fleet was lost due to the crash of #17957, a replacement trainer was built, designated SR-71C #17981. This aircraft is currently on display at the Hill Aerospace Museum, Hill AFB, UT. Irregular maintenance procedures and aftermarket construction caused constant yaw of the aircraft; therefore, the SR-71C was used on a limited basis between 1969-1976.

Virginia

The state of Virginia hosts two SR-71s:

•SR-71A #17968 is displayed at the Science Museum in Richmond, VA. 2. The #972 at Udvar-Hazy

Chantilly,

Linda Sheffield

@Habubrats71 via X

[darkmaga-returns]

The Pentagon is in the midst of a three-decades long plan to build a new generation of nuclear weapons, and it is not going well — so badly that the Air Force announced this week that it will pause large parts of the development of its new intercontinental ballistic missile, known officially as the Sentinel.

The pause will impact design and launch facilities in California and Utah and is projected to throw the project 18 to 24 months off schedule.

The project has been troubled from the start, when Northrop Grumman received a sole source contract to develop the system after Boeing withdrew from the competition, charging that the bidding process was rigged against it. And last year the missile underwent a Pentagon review when it was revealed that it was projected to cost 81% more than original estimates, boosting the price of procurement alone to $141 billion, with hundreds of billions of dollars more to operate and maintain the Sentinel over its useful lifetime.

Despite the runaway costs, the Pentagon decided to double down on developing the Sentinel, claiming that it was essential to deter other nations from launching a nuclear attack on the United States. In fact, at a time when “efficiency” is the watch word in Washington and other federal agencies are being dismantled as we speak, canceling the new ICBM is an obvious place to find savings, as suggested in a recent research brief by myself and my colleagues Gabe Murphy of Taxpayers for Common Sense and Julia Gledhill at the Stimson Center.

[justinsentertainmentcorner]

Olivia Troye at Olivia Of Troye:

Just days ago, the Trump administration began issuing termination letters to dozens of arts organizations across the country, canceling grants already awarded by the National Endowment for the Arts (NEA). These weren’t future proposals. These were lifelines for projects already in motion, now abruptly cut off midstream. And suppose Trump's 2026 budget proposal succeeds. In that case, it won't stop there: the NEA and its sister agency, the National Endowment for the Humanities (NEH), will be eliminated entirely. This would dismantle an agency that has made over 128,000 grants totaling more than $5 billion since its founding in 1965, building cultural infrastructure in every corner of our nation. This is the next target in the administration's campaign to gut federal institutions, especially those that elevate diverse voices, foster independent thought, or build cultural connections. I spoke about this recently in The Guardian, where I shared concerns about the targeting and dismantling of our arts and humanities agencies, including the Kennedy Center. It's not just about dollars. It's ideological.

That said, let's talk dollars. Trump is now hosting a $2 million-per-ticket fundraiser at the Kennedy Center, during a performance of Les Misérables. Has he ever even seen the show? Does he know what the musical is actually about? Because the irony isn't lost on me. It reeks of a grift. Will any of the Kennedy Center’s musicians, programs, or staff ever see a dime of it? We've seen this “performance” before so to speak. (Jim Acosta and I discussed this Kennedy Center debacle on his Substack show.) Now, as the administration lays the groundwork to erase the NEA, familiar arguments are resurfacing, framing the agency as wasteful, unnecessary, or elitist. These are the same talking points used in past attempts to defund it. When you hear people use these, I’ve taken the time to dissect them for you, to better arm you in educating others in your local communities. Let’s break them down and see what they really mean.

Private philanthropy can fund the arts; we don't need the government.

But here’s the truth: NEA funding doesn’t displace private giving, it multiplies it. On average, every $1 in NEA grants generates about $9 in matching support, including local governments, private donors, and foundations. NEA backing acts as a national stamp of credibility, especially for smaller, rural, or experimental programs. It signals to others that this is worth investing in. If the NEA is removed, many of these projects will lose not just seed funding but also the confidence of other supporters. When the scaffolding is removed, entire ecosystems collapse. The free market will take care of the arts. That’s not how it works. The market rewards profitability, not purpose. The NEA & NEH aren’t funding box office blockbusters. They’re funding:

Ballet performances for children with autism and their families in Utah,

The Japanese American National Museum in Los Angeles, which highlights stories of resilience, civil rights, and community through art and education,

Women & Their Work in Texas, dedicated to promoting contemporary art by women,

Studio Two Three, a community art space and print studio, in Richmond, Virginia

And, the Military Healing Arts Network.

This is a very tiny snapshot of examples of programs they fund. These programs don't exist to turn a profit. They exist to serve people, foster healing, build identity, and preserve history. In some cases, the NEA is the only thing keeping them alive. And now, even veterans' art initiatives are being disrupted, despite claims that military communities would be a funding priority. The administration's elimination of the NEA's Challenge America program, historically supporting underserved groups, including veterans, has left organizations scrambling to survive.

The NEA is just for elites and coastal institutions.

Not even close. The NEA is not a playground for elites or coastal institutions. Over 40% of its funding goes to underserved and rural communities, often in states with little access to the arts. Recent programs like ArtsHERE have awarded $12.3 million to expand arts access in historically underserved communities. These aren’t elite programs. They’re lifelines.

They include:

A children’s theater in Lexington, Kentucky, that serves rural communities in its surrounding area.

An oral history and arts project in a town devastated by wildfires in Tennessee.

And how about this joint statement from six U.S. Regional Arts Organizations urging Congress to restore federal funding for the NEA? They emphasized that the abrupt termination of active and pending NEA grants and the proposed elimination of the agency in the FY2026 federal budget would devastate communities nationwide. The statement highlighted that the NEA is critical in broadening access to the cultural, educational, and economic benefits of the arts in every Congressional District, supporting thousands of communities, including 678 counties that private foundations do not reach. The NEA is one of the most equitable and efficient agencies we have. It spreads cultural investment across the country, amplifies community voices, and builds up the places too often left behind.

So if it’s not about the money, what is this really about? Control. The NEA costs little, just $200 million a year, or less than 0.004% of the federal budget. But it has something far more powerful: the ability to nurture stories that challenge authority, expose injustice, and imagine better futures. So if it’s not about the money, what is this really about? Control. The NEA costs little, just $200 million a year, or less than 0.004% of the federal budget. But it has something far more powerful: the ability to nurture stories that challenge authority, expose injustice, and imagine better futures.

Trump’s attacks on the National Endowment for the Arts and the National Endowment for the Humanities are a colossal insult to American pride.

See Also:

The Status Kuo (Jay Kuo): We Just Got Gutted

[hirocimacruiser]

JUN R33 Skyline GTR at Bonneville.

JUN Suka did it 375km/h!

49th Bonneville Speed ​​Week

Enjoying the pleasure on the salt was Susumu Koyama, managing director and driver of JUN Auto Mechanics. A new record was a given, and with the goal of beating the 260 miles set six years ago with a 300ZX, he brought his 1,200 horsepower R33 Skyline GT-R, which he started building in May. The fastest challenge on Lake Bonneville, Utah, USA will be held for one week starting August 16th. As expected, the GT-R broke the class record with an average speed of 233.217 miles per hour. Photos&Report/Shogo NAKAO ●Interview cooperation/Travel Alice 06-341-1201

JUN is Bonneville's home run king.

When he first came here in 1990, he failed with a 300ZX, but the following year he used the same machine to hit a bullet liner of 260.809 mph and 419 km/h. In 1993, I brought an R32GT-R, but it rained.

The tournament was canceled due to standing water. Moving to Dry Lake in El Mirage, California, he set a class record of 194.961 mph and 313 km/h on a 2 km straight short course.

The aim this time is F/BGCC class. In the blown gas competition coupe, supercharged gasoline engine category below 3L, the previous record of 219.107mp/h was set by Thunderbird last year. First of all, Managing Director Koyama. The road surface was extremely rough due to the previous week's thunderstorm.

Even though I said, "I won't run straight," I ran 221 miles. Qualify now.

Normally, after this, I would run the 7-mile course in reverse and record the average value of the two runs, but on the evening of August 17th, when I qualified, it rained heavily and the course was closed until the afternoon of the 19th.

The rainwater did not dry up after the 3rd mile mark, making it an unusual record run in the same direction for 223 miles. At this point, I have achieved a class record. ``When I was a sophomore, there wasn't a big bench.

It was estimated that it had 1000 horsepower. This time, we have 1,200 horsepower, so according to calculations we should be able to cover over 260 miles,'' said Mr. Yoshida, the JUN public relations officer, with a red-hot face.

``The car was bouncing around so much,'' he says, so he loaded eight 18-kilogram salt bags into the trunk, for a total of 144 kg, aiming for even more speed.

However, the rain on the 17th did not dry up quickly and there were sloppy and slippery conditions.

Daijiro Inada, who is well-known for OPT magazine, rides the boat and pulls it an average of 233 miles.

On the second and final day, Managing Director Koyama aimed for a homer with the bases loaded by removing the salt bags and using thicker tires and maximum boost pressure, but he could not beat Daijiro.

I ended up spinning around in circles.

The members of JUN looked a little disappointed.

PIC CAPTIONS

The weight of the vehicle is 1500kg. It had been converted from a 4WD to a 2WD, but apparently ``a 4WD would have been better on this road surface.''

Traction was improved by placing 144 kg of salt bags next to the gas tank in the trunk.

A twin-turbo engine with 1200 horsepower measured on the bench. Great, you have a bench.

On the road this time, he was not able to tell how the aerodynamics were compared to the Z.

[nerdygaymormon]

Hi, I'm a young queer mormon living in Utah who finished their first year of college and decided halfway through after lots of prompting that I should serve a mission. The choice brought so much joy into my life and reconnected me with the church, my family, my beliefs, and my self. I felt really lost and unfulfilled at school, and the decision to put my schooling on hold for the next two years or so and bring the joy I felt from the gospel to more of God's children has felt so right every step of the way. I've have my call since March now, and I leave in a couple weeks.

But this new church announcement (the transgender policies) has absolutely shaken me. Obviously from a young age I have struggled with the church's stance on queer identities, and many more aspects. But my heart always felt that Christ cared not about these things and wanted only for us to try and be better and accept his atonement into our life. I also felt like the community of a ward or a church was one of the best parts of the gospel, and so many people need it and could benefit from it even if they did not wish to or choose to carry out sacred ordinances or covenants.

But this handbook change has made me feel like that's not true anymore. How can I stand for and represent a church that is directly excluding and prejudiced against my transgender friends? How am I supposed to tell other families and individuals to come to church when I myself can't even seem to grapple with what it stands for right now? I'm really struggling, I don't know if I should cancel my mission or push through in the hopes that more understanding will come through acting in faith. While every step of this process has brought me closer to myself and my family and brought me a lot of clarity in a confusing time, I feel that right now God is giving me a choice. I listened to Him with full faith and put in my papers and put my school on hold, but now I feel like he's telling me to choose for myself what to do next. And I have no idea what to do.

I'm lucky enough to have parents who will support my decision either way and who are also furious at the handbook change, but that doesn't take away the issues that choosing not to serve a mission brings. All the ward members who will be informed about it, all the explaining I'll have to do. If I don't go, I wish to instead use my mission funds to pay for a humanitarian trip to a place near the mission I was called, so I can still dedicate my time to bringing help to God's children, but I'm already so far in my mission process and I know there is a reason I was prompted to do all of this. But I'm so stuck.

Any advice?

Thank you for sharing all this.

I was just telling a friend that I think God's way is to have us make our own choices, especially the bigger the decision. Sometimes there's times like where you got the prompting to serve a mission, but it's still your choice. Often those promptings are making us aware there is another path available to us, perhaps one we weren't aware might be a good choice for us. However, most of the time God doesn't prompt us what to do, we have to study it out and then pray about the choice we made and ask God to affirm.

I think this way we own the decision. If we marry someone, we have to put in the work to make it a successful relationship and not just assume it will all work out because God said to do it. And when things don't go perfectly, if God told us what to do then we would blame God when it's us who messed things up.

I can see that the prompting you received helped you take a step back from a situation you were in (college) that maybe wasn't the right time for you, and get closer to the Lord. This gave you a firmer spiritual foundation on which to stand when these Handbook changes were announced.

My advice is to not ignore your feelings. If something bothers your conscience, pay attention to that.

Another piece of advice is to think about how you want to serve. A humanitarian mission perhaps is the mission you were being prompted towards, you are in a position now to make that choice because of the decisions you made based on the prompting you received. You can make a list of pros & cons, and as you think about what these different experiences will be like, the proselyting mission or the humanitarian mission, pay attention to which one brings you a sense of peace?

The Spirit is accompanied by feelings, think about how you feel when you're getting a prompting or feel that something is the right direction to go. Keep in mind those feelings when you pray about whichever decision you make.

I admire your desire to serve and to stand for goodness, and I commiserate with you in regards to these steps our church has announced.

[moontyger]

The Trump administration has ordered the closure of 25 scientific centers that monitor US waters for flooding and drought, and manage supply levels to ensure communities around the country don’t run out of water.

The United States Geological Service (USGS) water science centers’ employees and equipment track levels and quality in ground and surface water with thousands of gauges. The data it produces plays a critical role across the economy to protect human life, protect property, maintain water supplies and help clean up chemical or oil spills.

The targeted centers are part of a larger network, and the Trump administration based its decision to make cuts on leases near expiration, not scientific reasoning, said Kyla Bennett, director of science policy with the Public Employees for Environmental Responsibility non-profit that is tracking the issue.

The administration has not indicated a plan to fill the holes left by those that closed.

“It’s not being done with any thought about human life, it was just ‘this seems so woke so let’s get rid of it,’” Bennett said. “People think water is free and comes out of your tap whenever you want, but it’s not that simple.”

The Trump administration has made few details available, but the leases were ordered cancelled by the General Services Administration, said a water center employee who requested anonymity to speak freely without retribution. They learned about the closure from their landlord, and centers from Alaska to Massachusetts will begin shuttering within four months.

“We’re doing everything we can to make the argument that we need these facilities to complete our mission,” the employee said, but added that the groups were in a difficult position to push back.

Among the centers’ most important functions is their role in flood warnings. USGS monitors water levels in a river and shares that data with the National Weather Service (NWS). The NWS determines if the precipitation levels in a coming storm combined with water levels in a river will result in flooding or top a dam. If there’s a risk, flood warnings are issued.

It’s also critical to state emergency response agencies and the Federal Emergency Management (Fema) responses to floods. Among the centers on the chopping block is that in Charlotte, North Carolina, which managed the fallout from widespread and deadly Hurricane Helene flooding in Asheville in late 2024.

The centers also measure water levels in aquifers to ensure utilities and industry are not overdrawing them, which could cause communities to not have water. The monitors and data also inform states’ droughts declarations, which triggers limits on withdrawals, and water conservation requirements.

That is especially important in the drought-plagued west. Among those targeted for closure is the Moab, Utah, center, which measures snowpack and other water resources in a state 77% under drought. Bennett noted even much of Massachusetts was under drought conditions and limits for lawn watering were in place.

“Nobody knows what happens if we’re not doing [monitoring for drought conditions],” the employee said. Privatization is possible, they added, but the USGS has in place rigorous data quality standards that probably could not be copied by a company.

States also use the data to protect drinking water quality, and manage pollution discharge permits. During drought conditions, streams can dry up and discharges have to be reined in. If not, small streams may entirely be made up of industrial discharge, Bennett said.

When oil or chemical spills happen, the USGS data is used to protect drinking water by tracking plumes with real-time monitors in some locations. They have also provided comprehensive pictures of where Pfas “forever chemical” pollution plumes are contaminating the country’s aquifers.

The data is also used by state and local officials, emergency responders, water system operators, road and building designers, construction companies, city planners, conservation commissions and many others for economic purposes. However, local governments are not equipped to take over.

[delicatuscii-wasbella102]

These are pictures of Slapton Sands that I took a few years ago, Its about a 30 minute drive from where I live, it is known for 'Exercise Tiger' On the 25 November 2024, HM Coastguard received a call reporting possible ordnance at Slapton Beach. Kingsbridge Coastguard Rescue Team was sent along with the Navy's Explosive Ordnance Disposal Unit. The item was confirmed as ordnance by the Explosive Ordnance Disposal Unit who carried out a controlled detonation.

"Exercise Tiger was supposed to ready Force U for landing at Utah Beach, in Normandy, in spring 1944. Rear Admiral Don P. Moon headed the force, which by 27 April counted 221 vessels in and around Lyme Bay on the south west coast of England.

Because the exercise had to provide Force U with the realistic experience of combat, it included all the equipment, fully loaded, that the men would later bring onto Utah Beach. Cruisers and destroyers would exchange live fire over the heads of the trainees as they landed at Slapton Sands, the rehearsal location on the English side of the Channel, with the very same vessels Force U would use on D-Day. 

Allied Supreme Headquarters finalized plans on 19 April 1944 and established U.S. Navy control over the exercise, but Royal Navy Admiral Ralph Leatham retained, in his words, “overriding control, should there arise circumstances which render it strategically necessary for me to cancel or curtail the exercise.” It then fell to Rear Admiral John E. Wilkes, USN, to ensure the servicemen’s readiness for this realistic and therefore dangerous exercise, for which the Royal Navy contributed destroyers, corvettes, and trawlers as escorts and covers."

HM Coastguard said: "HM Coastguard received a call reporting possible ordnance at Slapton Beach. Kingsbridge Coastguard Rescue Team was sent along with the Navy's Explosive Ordnance Disposal Unit. The item was confirmed as ordnance by the Explosive Ordnance Disposal Unit who carried out a controlled detonation