#hot Gulf of Mexico

[wyrmfedgrave]

So, climate change is here.

And, a hot El Nino (in the east Pacific) & the hotter Gulf of Mexico (south of the U.S.) are now powering up category 5 hurricanes like Milton - which is headed towards mid Florida as I type this...

We should force the climate deniers (mostly Reps & manufacturers) to help pay for the rising cost of rescuing these same greedy people - for blinding citizens to the true weather dangers ahead of us.

Is it any wonder why tRump & his enablers want to get rid of all storm warnings?

If King Rump wins the election, voters will never know what killer weather is heading their way & won't have time to prepare or run from it...

Do you finally see how important your votes are?!!

End?

[fictionadventurer]

Everything I learn about Rose Wilder Lane makes me more and more aware that she was a hilariously outrageous person who needs a movie made about her immediately.

After leaving Missouri, she moves to California and marries a real-estate guy who once tried to get her to help him con the railroad.

She gets hired at a San Francisco newspaper known for its yellow journalism, where she does things like writing a series of columns featuring the "real-life stories of a police detective" who, in real life, was a high-end jewel thief.

Her first book is a first-person "autobiography" of Charlie Chaplin that she (after a few interviews with Chaplin) completely made up, and that Charlie Chaplin immediately threatened to sue her publisher for.

Her second book is a biography of Jack London, which his wife only reluctantly allowed her to write because Rose presented herself as "someone who had never written for the newspapers before and needs a chance to break into the magazines." This book was also almost entirely fictional, and her publisher also almost got sued over it.

Third biography is the first-ever biography of Herbert Hoover, also a heavily-fictionalized account. (Doesn't seem to have been sued for this one. Steps in the right direction!)

Traveled as a reporter through Europe (to places like Albania and Poland) post-WWI. (If we want to talk about legal things that she did).

Wrote a book based on Laura's late-childhood pioneer experiences while Laura was writing the early books of the Little House series, and did not tell Laura about it. (Laura was ticked off).

Kept trying to insert a story into Laura's memoirs (and Little House on the Prairie) casting Pa as a member of a posse that hunted down the infamous (and never-caught) serial-killing Bender family (despite the fact that this was historically impossible). (It got to the point that Laura herself told this story to the public as an example of "a true story I couldn't out in my children's book." Despite the fact, I say again, that this was historically impossible).

During WWII, endured a minor incident (it involved one cop coming to her house) where the FBI investigated her as a potential communist based on a postcard she sent that was critical of the government. Turned this into a short story that presented herself as the righteously-outraged American citizen fighting against an oppressive government, and used this to whip up a nationwide media campaign against J. Edgar Hoover for spying on American citizens.

Flew to Vietnam as a war reporter when she was in her seventies.

[tomorrowusa]

The climate-denying governor of the state most susceptible to climate change is neglecting Florida for his ailing presidential bid as we enter the most active part of the Atlantic Basin hurricane season.

I haven't seen this many disturbances at the same time in the Atlantic since 2020 – the year they ran out of hurricane names and burned through half of the Greek alphabet.

Probably 1 of the 5 will fizzle out. 2 of them could follow in the footsteps of low energy Hurricane Don and harmlessly buzz around the mid Atlantic.

But the disturbance near the Windward Islands about to enter the Caribbean needs to be watched. And the one north of Cuba heading into the Gulf of Mexico has the potential to get nasty under the right conditions.

Warm seas act like jet fuel for tropical cyclones. The Gulf of Mexico is HOT.

Temps in parts of the Gulf are at the top of the scale shown on the right (32° C/89.6° F).

Some water temperatures along the southern Gulf coast of Florida have been over 100° F earlier this summer.

There should be no place for active climate deniers in public office.

[kartana]

actually the reason i feel wack is i was at the beach and i never ran full speed along the shoreline like i usually always do and now that im home and still awake i realize the lack of zoomies and its making my body feel tense and hot and stressed

[politijohn]

Some alarming climate news as of June 2023

Antarctica, which is in the dead of winter, has unexpectedly failed to reform its winter sea ice. This is an exceptional deviation from the norm that has left scientists dumbfounded.

The entire NE Atlantic Ocean is experiencing its most significant marine heatwave ever…by far. That area had never been a full 1°C above the 1951-1980 average. It has suddenly jumped to 1.7°C above that average.

A powerful heatwave has overtaken southern North America for weeks on end, with places like Texas and northern Mexico breaking daily record high temperatures.

In the Caribbean Sea and Gulf of Mexico, sea surface temperatures are extremely high. Water temperatures are in the *90s* by the Florida coast, Miami keeps breaking daily record heat index values, and a major coral bleaching event will soon be underway.

The Canadian 2023 Wildfire Season will not let up, with nearly all annual records falling before we even reach the midpoint of the season. No Canadian wildfire season had ever produced 12 terawatts (TW) of fire radiative power. 2023 has produced 18TW.

Dramatic flood events have begun striking various countries around the world simultaneously this week.

El Niño has rapidly developed in recent months as sea surface temperatures across the equatorial east Pacific skyrocket. As of yet, El Niño has not impacted global weather conditions. That will change in a few months.

All of these events have culminated in June 2023, easily being the hottest June in Earth’s recorded history. Likely the hottest June in 115k-120k years when Earth was last this hot.

[lila-lou]

✨Houston - Pt. 1/2✨

Summary: While Jensen was away filming, a hurricane hit and you had to face it alone, burdened by a secret. When Jensen finally returned, relief and fear collided as you shared the news.

-requested-

Pairing: Jensen x Reader

Warnings: Language, ANGST

Word Count: 6986

A/N: No hate towards anybody. It's just fiction.

English isn’t my first language, please be lenient. 🩷

Jensen had been gone for his new show in Los Angeles, filming for what felt like an eternity — over ten weeks now, with no real break in sight. The production schedule was tighter than ever due to unexpected delays when one of the main actors fell sick, which caused the entire shoot to be pushed back. You hadn’t seen him for over two months, and the distance was starting to weigh on you. There was no chance for quick weekend visits or even mid-week surprises. Everything had changed with this new project.

In those long ten weeks, Jensen had managed to get only three days off, and he used them to fly back to see his kids. You couldn’t fault him for that and you understood how much he missed them. Still, the loneliness lingered like an unwelcome shadow. Tomorrow, though, was supposed to be different. He was finally coming home, even if just for a week, and you had been counting down the days like a lifeline.

But now, as you stood by the large window overlooking the ocean, something inside you twisted with unease. The darkening skies in the distance mirrored the storm brewing in your mind. The TV in the background blared with warnings of severe weather rolling in from the Gulf, interrupting your thoughts with each alert. The meteorologist spoke of high winds and heavy rain, not quite enough to warrant an evacuation, but enough to make you feel a creeping sense of dread.

It had been two years since you and Jensen made the decision to move to Houston, settling into this beautiful, sprawling house right on the coastline. At the time, it seemed perfect. The ocean view, the sunsets over the water, the space and serenity. But now, as the storm warnings flashed across the screen, you wondered if you’d made the right decision. You had never been good with storms. The sound of the wind howling, the sharp crack of thunder — they had always sent shivers down your spine, leaving you feeling vulnerable and anxious.

The move to the Gulf of Mexico seemed impulsive now, in hindsight. Sure, Jensen loved it here, and the house was gorgeous, but you had always known this fear lurked deep inside you. Storms unsettled you, and the thought of facing one alone, without him by your side, only made it worse.

Your stomach twisted in knots as you pressed your forehead against the cool glass, watching the gray clouds gather on the horizon.

You groaned, feeling the frustration bubble up inside you. The anxiety gnawed at you, and the tension in your shoulders made it hard to relax. “Of all days”, you muttered under your breath, pushing yourself away from the window.

With a sigh, you grabbed your phone and dialed your best friend’s number, knowing she’d be awake even though she lived halfway across the world. Spain. Never having to deal with the heavy weather nonsense like hurricanes or tornadoes. You often teased her about how lucky she was to live in a country where the worst thing she had to worry about was a hot summer day or maybe some rain in the winter.

As you walked toward the kitchen, waiting for her to pick up, the soft ring of the phone seemed to be swallowed by the growing rumble of thunder outside. Your eyes drifted to the oven as you remembered the batch of chocolate cookies you’d put in earlier. Well, they were more Jensen’s favorite than yours.

The phone finally clicked, and your friend’s cheerful voice came through the speaker. “Hola, chica! What’s up?”.

You let out a heavy sigh as you reached for the kettle, flicking it on to make yourself some tea. “Hey… just trying to calm my nerves. We’ve got a storm rolling in, and you know how much I hate this stuff”.

“Storm? Ugh, I don’t envy you”, she replied with a sympathetic tone. “It’s like a whole other world over there, isn’t it? Here I am, in sunny Spain, sipping wine and you’re getting hit with storms again. Why did you agree to move to the Gulf in the first place?”.

You chuckled, a bit of bitterness in your voice as you pulled out a mug from the cabinet. “I have no idea. Jensen wanted the ocean, and it seemed like a good idea at the time. You know me—anything to make him happy. But every time a storm rolls in, I swear I regret it”.

As the kettle clicked off, you poured the hot water over the tea bag, the steam curling up into the air. You leaned against the counter, glancing at the oven timer. Just a few more minutes on the cookies. “I mean, I get it”, you continued, twirling the tea bag absentmindedly in the water. “He loves it here, and the house is beautiful, but I just can’t shake this fear. Every time the weather turns bad, I get this pit in my stomach. And it doesn’t help that he’s been away for so long. It’s hard to deal with all this on my own”.

She sighed on the other end of the line, her voice softening. “How long has he been gone this time?”.

You swallowed, staring down at the swirling tea in your mug. “Ten weeks”, you murmured, feeling the weight of that number pressing down on you. “Ten long weeks, and in all that time, he’s only had three days off. I get it, he used those to see his kids, which is exactly what he should do. But it’s just been… hard”.

Your friend stayed quiet for a moment, as if letting the words sink in. She knew how much you hated when Jensen was away for extended periods, especially when life got difficult. “Ten weeks… damn”, she finally said, her tone laced with sympathy. “That’s rough, chica. I know you’re strong, but that’s a lot, especially with this storm hitting now”.

You nodded, even though she couldn’t see you, feeling the tension rise again as you heard another distant rumble of thunder. “It’s just been one thing after another lately”, you admitted, rubbing a hand over your eyes. “And now this storm… it’s not supposed to be anything major, but you know me. I hate this stuff. The wind, the rain, it freaks me out. Always has”.

Your friend’s voice softened even more. “I remember. Back when we used to talk late at night during storms, you’d be on edge, counting down the minutes until it passed. I can’t imagine being by the ocean during one”.

You sighed, feeling a lump form in your throat. “Yeah, and I’m here, in this huge house, by myself. Well, I’ve got Jensen’s cookies”, you added with a weak laugh, trying to lighten the mood, but the fear still lingered beneath the surface.

“Wish I could teleport myself over there and keep you company”, she said warmly. “Though I’m not sure how much help I’d be. Maybe I could distract you with all my boring Spain stories. Sun, siestas, and sangria… You know, the usual”.

You smiled, even though it didn’t fully reach your eyes. “That sounds a hell of a lot better than storm prep and waiting for the power to go out”.

Another sigh escaped your friend. “You need a break from all this. Having him around will help, I’m sure”.

“Yeah, I hope so too”, you whispered, the longing for Jensen’s presence making your chest tighten. The thought of him walking through the door tomorrow, even for just a week, was the only thing keeping you grounded right now.

There was a pause on the other end of the line, the kind that stretched just a little too long, and you knew your friend was working up to something. When she finally spoke again, her voice was quiet, hesitant. “Have you… told him yet?”.

Your heart skipped a beat, the weight of her words settling heavily in the pit of your stomach. The unspoken truth between you, the one you had been avoiding for weeks. You took a shaky breath, gripping the edge of the counter for support as the familiar wave of anxiety washed over you again.

“No”, you whispered, barely loud enough for her to hear, your voice breaking slightly. “Not yet”.

Your friend didn’t rush to respond, giving you the space to gather your thoughts. You could almost hear the sympathy through the phone, her understanding of how complicated things had become. She knew you too well—knew the fear that had been gnawing at you since you first saw the two pink lines on the test, and how you had been holding onto that secret ever since, waiting for the right moment to break the news.

If there even was a “right moment”.

You closed your eyes, leaning back against the cool kitchen counter, the weight of your unspoken truth pressing down on your chest. “It’s not exactly something I can drop over the phone”, you added softly, more to yourself than to her.

“I know”, she said gently, her voice filled with understanding. “It’s definitely face-to-face news”.

You let out a heavy sigh, your eyes drifting toward the window where the dark clouds were still gathering. The irony wasn’t lost on you — the brewing storm outside wasn’t nearly as frightening as the one in your heart. Jensen had been so clear from the beginning, right from the very start of your relationship. He loved his kids, adored being their father, but he was done. He didn’t want more. He had been through the sleepless nights, the diapers, the chaos of raising young children, and he had made it crystal clear that he had no desire to go back to that. No more babies. No more starting over.

And now here you were, facing the very thing he never wanted. The very thing that might push him away, might change everything between you.

“I just…”. Your voice wavered as you struggled to find the right words. “He was so sure, you know? About not wanting more kids. He told me from the beginning that he was done, and I accepted that. I was okay with it because I love him. But now…”. You trailed off, biting your lip to stop your emotions from spilling over.

“Now, things are different”, she finished softly, filling in the words you couldn’t bring yourself to say.

You nodded, even though she couldn’t see you, tears stinging at the corners of your eyes. “I don’t even know how he’s going to react. What if he’s angry? What if this is the one thing that changes everything? I don’t want to lose him, but I can’t hide this forever. And the longer I wait, the harder it’s going to get”.

Your friend was quiet for a moment, letting the weight of your words settle. When she spoke again, her voice was filled with warmth and understanding. “You’re going to have to tell him, eventually. And yes, it’s probably going to be hard. But you know Jensen. He loves you. Whatever his initial reaction, that won’t change. He might need time to process it, but he’s not the type to just walk away”.

You sniffed, wiping at your eyes as a tear finally slipped free. “I know… I know that. But it’s just—he’s been gone for so long, and everything’s already so strained. What if this is the thing that breaks us?”.

There was a long silence on the other end, and for a moment you wondered if the call had dropped. But then your friend spoke, her voice quiet but firm. “This won’t break you. Not if you’re honest with him. It’s going to be tough, but you can’t carry this alone. You deserve to have someone beside you through all of it. And… he deserves to know”.

Your throat tightened, and you swallowed hard, feeling the weight of her words. “I just… I’m scared”, you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “I’m scared of how he’ll react, and I’m scared of what this will mean for us”.

“I know”, she said softly. “But you’re strong, and you can do this. And no matter what, I’m here for you. You don’t have to go through this alone”.

You nodded again, grateful for her support even across the ocean. The sound of the timer beeping in the background startled you, pulling you from the heaviness of the moment. The cookies were done. You forced a small smile, trying to hold onto the sliver of normalcy that baking had given you.

“I’ll tell him when he comes home”, you said quietly, more to yourself than to her. “Face to face. It’s the only way”.

“You’re doing the right thing”, your friend assured you. “He loves you, and he’s going to be there for you, no matter what. Just give him time”.

You took a deep breath, steadying yourself. “Thanks. I really needed to hear that”.

“That’s what I’m here for,” she replied warmly. “Now, go enjoy those cookies, okay? And try not to worry too much about tomorrow. One storm at a time”.

You laughed softly, a bittersweet sound. “Yeah… one storm at a time”.

As you hung up the phone and pulled the warm cookies from the oven, the weight of what lay ahead still hung in the air. Tomorrow, Jensen would come home, and with him, the conversation that would change everything. You could only hope that, like the storm outside, it would pass without too much damage.

You placed the tray of cookies on the counter, their rich chocolate scent filled the kitchen, momentarily grounding you in something warm and familiar. You stared down at them, freshly baked and perfectly round, thinking about how Jensen always joked that your cookies were better than any fancy dessert. It was such a small thing, but right now, it felt like a lifeline—a fleeting reminder of the simplicity that used to define your relationship before things became so complicated.

You couldn’t help but think back to when everything was easier, when his laugh could chase away any worry you had, and when you both felt invincible. But now, that invincibility felt fragile.

The soft rumble of thunder echoed through the house, and you wrapped your arms around yourself, feeling smaller in the vastness of the empty space.

You leaned against the counter, staring blankly at the cookies, your mind already racing ahead to tomorrow. You could picture his face, the familiar crinkle of his eyes as he walked through the door, probably exhausted but happy to see you. And you knew that the moment would come when you'd have to break the news. You’d have to see his reaction, whatever it would be—whether it was surprise, disbelief, or the worst thing you could imagine… disappointment.

You closed your eyes, fighting back the sting of tears. Disappointment. That was what scared you the most.

No more kids.

He loved his children fiercely, but he had drawn that line firmly in the sand from the start. The thought of him looking at you with anything less than love in his eyes, anything less than the warmth and affection you had grown so used to, made your stomach churn.

The truth was, you hadn’t planned this. Neither of you had. And the timing couldn’t have been worse. He was in the middle of filming a new project, already stretched thin from the demands of his career. You had been doing your best to hold things together, to be patient, to give him the space he needed while you dealt with this on your own. But now the secret was too big to keep any longer.

And still, you hadn’t even allowed yourself to fully process the reality of it. The tiny life growing inside of you felt surreal, like a secret you were keeping even from yourself. There were moments when you could push it to the back of your mind, pretend it wasn’t real, but those moments were becoming fewer and further between. You couldn’t escape the truth any longer.

Tomorrow, he would be home. Tomorrow, you would have to tell him.

You placed your hands on your stomach, your fingers resting lightly, almost protectively, over the slight curve that had begun to form. It was still small, easy enough to hide under loose clothing, but you couldn’t hide it forever. And you didn’t want to. Not really. You wanted to share this with him, to let him in on the secret you had been carrying for weeks. But the fear… the fear of how he would react made it feel like an impossible task.

You took a deep, shaky breath and whispered into the quiet kitchen, as if saying it aloud would somehow prepare you for what was coming. “I’m pregnant”.

The words felt foreign on your tongue, and saying them aloud didn’t make the reality any easier to bear. But they were real. There was no taking them back now.

As you stood there, staring out the window into the growing storm, you couldn’t help but wonder what tomorrow would bring.

Would he be angry? Shocked? Maybe he wouldn’t even know what to say at first. You played out a hundred scenarios in your mind, none of them feeling quite right. You couldn’t predict how he would react, but you knew that this was a conversation that would change everything. There was no going back once the truth was out.

The thunder rumbled again, closer this time, and you shivered despite the warmth of the kitchen. You reached for your tea and held the mug in your hands, seeking comfort from the warmth.

Just then, the phone rang, its sudden chime cutting through the quiet tension in the room. Your heart skipped a beat when you saw the name flash across the screen. Jensen.

For a moment, you just stared at it, your stomach flipping nervously. The sound of his name on the screen, so familiar, so comforting, felt like a jolt to your already raw nerves. He wasn’t supposed to call until later, closer to his flight time. Your fingers trembled slightly as you swiped to answer, bringing the phone to your ear.

“Hey”, you greeted softly, trying to steady your voice, but you couldn’t help the slight quiver in it.

“Hey, sweetheart”, Jensen’s warm, familiar voice filled the line, and for just a second, you felt a rush of relief. “You okay? You sound a little off”.

You bit your lip, glancing out the window again, watching the heavy clouds roll in. “Yeah, I’m… I’m fine. Just, you know, storm’s coming in, and I’m alone in the house. I’m probably overreacting, as usual”.

He chuckled softly, that deep, rich sound that used to make you feel safe. “You and storms, huh? You’ve always hated them. It’s just a little rain though, right? Nothing to worry about”.

“Yeah, just rain”, you repeated, your voice barely above a whisper as the truth of what you were really afraid of sat heavy in your chest. But you couldn’t tell him now, not like this, over the phone. Not when he was hours away. Not when he was expecting you to be waiting at home, smiling, with cookies on the counter.

There was a brief pause on the other end, and you could almost hear the tension in Jensen’s voice, like he wanted to say more but was holding back. Then he spoke, and his tone was apologetic, laced with that familiar warmth that you loved so much.

“Hey, I’ve got to get back to filming in a minute”, he said gently, “but I just wanted to check in on you. Make sure you’re okay”.

Your heart sank a little at his words. Even though you hadn’t expected this call, the idea of him hanging up so soon, when you were craving any sense of normalcy, left you feeling hollow. But you forced a small smile into your voice, pushing aside the anxiety for his sake.

“Okay”, you replied softly, clutching the phone a little tighter. “I’ll be fine. The house is safe, and I’ve got enough cookies to last a week, even if the power goes out”.

He laughed again, that low, comforting sound that almost made you forget about the storm inside you. “You’re always prepared, huh?”.

“Trying to be”, you said, though the weight of the secret you were carrying made you feel anything but.

There was another pause, and you heard some shuffling in the background—probably crew members calling for him. He sighed. “Listen, I’ve got to run, but I’ll call you as soon as I’m at the airport later, okay?”.

“Thanks, Jensen”, you whispered, the sound of his name bringing a soft warmth to your heart despite everything. “I’ll be okay. Be safe, alright?”.

“I will. You hang in there, alright? I’ll talk to you in a few hours”. His voice softened, and you could picture him standing there, probably with that concerned look he got when he knew you weren’t telling him everything.

“I will”, you promised, though inside, you knew it was going to be a long few hours.

“Love you”, he added quickly, and those words, like always, wrapped around you like a blanket.

“Love you too”, you whispered, knowing how much you meant it, but feeling the weight of the untold truth settling even heavier on your chest.

Then the call ended, and the silence rushed back into the room, the steady beat of the rain against the windows the only sound left.

You stood there for a moment, gripping the phone like it was an anchor. The storm outside was getting louder, the wind picking up, rattling the windows just enough to send a shiver down your spine.

As evening fell, you found yourself standing in front of the large living room windows again, staring out at the angry ocean. The waves were crashing violently against the shore, each one louder than the last, and the dark sky was lit up intermittently by flashes of lightning far in the distance. For the past hour, heavy rain had been pounding against the house, making any thoughts of sleep seem impossible. You hadn’t even bothered trying to settle down—there was no way you could rest with the storm growing more intense by the minute.

The wind had picked up, howling through the trees that lined the edge of your property, bending them until they looked as though they would snap. The way the branches thrashed made your chest tighten with anxiety. This was more than just a little rain. The storm outside was quickly turning into something far more dangerous.

You wrapped your arms around yourself, trying to fight the creeping sense of fear that had been building inside you all day. It was hard to focus on anything else—the looming conversation with Jensen, the storm that seemed intent on tearing apart everything outside your door. You tried to drown out the worry by turning on the TV for the latest updates, hoping for some reassurance, but just as you were about to settle on the couch, the power flickered.

And then, everything went dark.

Your heart skipped a beat, and you stood frozen in place, listening to the sudden silence that filled the room. Even the hum of the refrigerator had gone quiet. No lights, no TV, no comforting glow from the oven clock. You fumbled for your phone, but a quick glance at the screen showed what you had feared: no signal. The storm had knocked out the power, and with it, your connection to the outside world.

You were alone.

A cold knot of fear twisted in your stomach. The walls around you felt suffocating, and the sound of the storm outside—the rain pounding against the windows, the wind howling like a creature trying to claw its way inside—made the house feel smaller than it had ever felt before. The darkness seemed endless, swallowing up the comforting familiarity of your home, and all you could do was stand there, staring at your reflection in the glass as the storm raged beyond.

And then, your thoughts went to Jensen.

Somewhere far away, sitting in an airport, blissfully unaware of how much the storm had escalated. The last time you had spoken, he had laughed, reassured you that it was just a little rain. But this… this was something else. You wondered if he had seen the news, if he knew how bad it was getting here. You couldn’t even warn him now, couldn’t tell him to stay safe, to stay put.

Meanwhile, in LA, Jensen sat in the crowded terminal, his phone in hand as he absentmindedly scrolled through old texts from you, his mind somewhere between exhaustion and the anticipation of finally coming home. He’d been waiting for what felt like hours, his flight delayed over and over again. The storm back home had been on his mind, but nothing in the forecast had seemed serious when he last checked. Just some heavy rain, maybe a little wind, but nothing out of the ordinary for Houston this time of year.

That was until an announcement echoed over the loudspeakers, the sound snapping him back to the present. The terminal buzzed with confusion as people around him started looking at their phones, murmurs rising into a collective hum of concern.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we regret to inform you that all flights to Houston have been canceled due to an unexpected hurricane forming off the Gulf. Please make your way to the customer service desks for further instructions”.

Jensen’s heart sank as the words hit him. Hurricane? He immediately stood, his fingers instinctively dialing your number, but there was no response. Nothing. He tried again, and again, but each call went straight to voicemail.

His stomach churned with worry, his mind racing with worst-case scenarios. He had told you it was just a little rain, that everything would be fine. And now, a hurricane was bearing down on you, and he couldn’t reach you. He couldn’t even warn you.

The flight staff were swamped, passengers crowding around them, demanding answers, but Jensen didn’t care about the chaos around him. All he could think about was you—sitting in that house by the ocean, alone, probably terrified, with no way to reach him. He could see it in his mind, how you would be pacing around the house, trying to stay calm while the storm raged on outside. You hated storms. You always had.

And now, this.

He looked at the flight board, the bright red letters spelling out “CANCELED”, and felt utterly helpless. There was no way out tonight, no way to get to you. His heart hammered in his chest as he tried calling one more time, but once again, it went straight to voicemail.

Jensen clenched his phone tightly, his mind racing through all the possible options. He knew he wouldn’t be able to sit here, waiting, while the storm got worse. He needed to get to you, somehow, but there was no plan, no idea of how bad it really was back in Houston.

Meanwhile, back in the house, you stared out into the blackness beyond the window, the storm surging with more force than you could have imagined. The trees bent and cracked, the waves crashing against the shore with an almost terrifying strength. You had never felt so vulnerable. You had never felt so alone.

And Jensen, the one person you needed most, was miles away, waiting in an airport for a flight that wasn’t coming.

You pressed your hand against the cold glass, feeling the world outside crumble under the force of nature, and inside, you crumbled a little too.

The wind had reached a deafening pitch, and every gust felt like it was trying to tear the house apart. You could barely think over the sound of it—like a train barreling through, unstoppable and unforgiving. The trees outside the windows were bent almost horizontal, their branches flailing wildly in the storm’s fury. You could hear debris slamming against the house, the sharp cracks of branches breaking, and the deep, menacing roar of the ocean as the waves crashed closer and closer.

You glanced out the window and felt your blood run cold. The waves were rising—towering, dark, and violent—crashing up the shore with a terrifying force, each one creeping closer and closer to your porch. The stilts that your house rested on were supposed to protect you, but right now, even those massive beams felt fragile against the raw power of the storm.

A sudden surge of panic washed over you, stronger than any wave outside. You couldn't stay here, not with the ocean threatening to swallow everything. Your breath came faster, chest tightening as the reality of the hurricane fully hit you. This was no ordinary storm; this was the nightmare you’d always feared would come to life when you moved here. You needed to get away from the windows, away from the view of the violent ocean that made your heart pound with terror.

Without thinking, you spun on your heel and practically ran through the house, your footsteps quick and uneven as the wind rattled the walls. You headed straight for the guest room—one of the few rooms that didn’t face the ocean. It was smaller, tucked away in the corner of the house, but right now it felt like the only place that could give you even the slightest illusion of safety.

Your heart hammered in your chest as you reached the door and pushed it open, the beam of your phone trembling slightly from your shaking hands. You slammed the door behind you and leaned against it, breathing hard, trying to steady yourself. The room was dark, save for the dim glow of the phone, but at least here, you couldn’t see the ocean rising, threatening, looming.

Still, the storm raged around you, the wind howling and shaking the house. The walls creaked under the force of the gusts, and you swore you could feel the entire structure sway. The sound of the ocean never left your mind, though, the memory of those waves reaching higher and higher still vivid in your thoughts. You sank onto the edge of the bed, wrapping your arms around yourself as if you could ward off the fear creeping through your veins.

You needed Jensen. His presence would have grounded you, would have been the anchor you needed right now to feel even remotely safe. But he wasn’t here. You were alone. Alone in a house you weren’t sure could withstand the storm.

And then, the overwhelming sense of dread came crashing in again, accompanied by the helplessness of being completely cut off. No phone signal, no lights, no contact. The only thing louder than the storm outside was the storm inside you—the fear, the uncertainty, the crushing feeling of isolation.

Meanwhile, Jensen sat in the crowded airport terminal, his phone in his hands, staring at the same unchanging screen. The calls weren’t going through. He tried again, his heart thudding in his chest, each failed attempt making the knot of worry tighten further. Every time the call went straight to voicemail, it felt like a blow to his gut.

“Come on… pick up, baby”, he muttered to himself, running a frustrated hand through his hair. But still, nothing. Only that dead silence on the other end.

He felt sick. He couldn’t stop replaying the conversation from earlier in the day. He’d brushed off your fears, reassured you that it was just rain. You’d been nervous, but he had laughed it off, told you it was no big deal. “Just a little rain”, he’d said. Now, with a hurricane bearing down on Houston, those words felt like a cruel joke.

Jensen’s leg bounced anxiously as he stared at his phone, willing it to connect. He knew you were scared—he knew how much you hated storms, how even a thunderstorm would have you on edge. But this wasn’t just a thunderstorm. This was a hurricane, and you were alone, sitting in that house by the ocean, probably terrified out of your mind.

He had never felt so helpless. All the money in the world, all his connections, none of it mattered now. He was grounded, unable to fly home, stuck in a terminal while the storm raged on miles away, separating him from you. The worst part was not knowing what was happening. Were you okay? Was the house holding up? Had you found a safe place? Or were you sitting there, terrified, with no one to comfort you?

Jensen pressed the call button again, even though he knew what would happen. He didn’t care. He had to keep trying, had to do something.

When the call went to voicemail again, he groaned, leaning forward and burying his face in his hands. This was his worst nightmare. He had promised to keep you safe, to be there when you needed him, and now, in the middle of the worst storm either of you had ever faced, he was stuck a thousand miles away, powerless to help.

All he could think about was your voice, that soft quiver in it when you’d mentioned the storm earlier. He should have heard the fear in your words. He should have known. But he’d been so focused on work, so focused on getting through the day, that he hadn’t really listened.

Jensen felt the weight of his guilt pressing down on him, heavier with each failed attempt to reach you. He needed to hear your voice, needed to know you were okay. But every minute that passed felt like an eternity, and the storm was only getting worse.

He glanced up at the airport monitors, the word CANCELED in bright red letters next to his flight number. His chest tightened. He wasn’t getting out of here tonight. He wasn’t getting to you.

For the first time in a long time, Jensen felt completely powerless.

Minutes passed, each one feeling like an eternity. The wind outside had grown impossibly louder, the relentless howl of the storm wrapping itself around the house. You sat on the edge of the bed, your knees pulled up to your chest, listening to the chaos unfold outside. Then, you heard something—a deep, ominous rumbling that shook the walls, so loud and unfamiliar that it made your heart leap into your throat.

Your breath caught. What was that? You couldn’t even begin to imagine what had caused the sound, but it sent a wave of terror rushing through you. For a moment, you stayed frozen in place, every nerve in your body telling you to stay put, to not move. But curiosity, or maybe survival instinct, finally won over, and you shakily stood up, the beam of your phone barely steady in your trembling hand.

You tried to think logically—the cars. Bu both, yours and Jensen’s cars, were parked in the massive garage, safe when you had checked earlier. But now, with the storm surging stronger by the minute, you couldn’t be sure. What if the garage was already flooded? What if the rumbling had come from something hitting the house? The thought of the water rising higher, creeping into your home, made your stomach turn with dread. The waves had already reached your porch by the time you ran into the guest room, and there was no telling how much worse it had gotten since then.

You hesitated for a moment, then slowly climbed toward the small window at the far end of the guest room. The wind was howling so fiercely outside that it felt like the house was swaying beneath your feet, but you had to know what was happening out there.

As you approached the window, you felt a new wave of fear wash over you. The sky was black, save for the occasional, blinding crack of lightning that tore through the clouds, illuminating the storm for a brief, horrifying second at a time. You pressed your face against the glass, trying to peer through the rain, your breath fogging up the window. But it was too dark—way too dark.

You couldn’t see anything.

Your hands were trembling as you wiped at the fog on the glass, your tears only making it harder to focus. Everything outside was a blur—dark shapes, shadows, the sound of the storm so loud. You blinked hard, trying to clear your vision, but the tears kept coming, clouding your sight. It was no use. The storm had swallowed everything.

All you wanted was to see if the other houses were still standing, to know if someone else out there was going through the same terror you were, but the storm had cut you off from everything. You were truly alone.

Your sobs came in short, ragged gasps as you turned away from the window, sliding down the wall until you were sitting on the floor, hugging your knees to your chest. The fear, the loneliness—it was suffocating. You tried to breathe, tried to calm yourself, but every time you closed your eyes, you saw those waves, rising higher and higher, threatening to consume everything.

Jensen’s face flashed in your mind—his voice on the phone earlier, laughing it off, telling you it was just a little rain. How you wished he was here now, his arms around you, telling you it would all be okay. But he wasn’t. He was miles away, probably sitting at the airport, just as helpless as you were, waiting for a flight that wasn’t coming. And you hated that he couldn’t reach you, hated that you couldn’t even tell him how scared you were, how much you needed him.

Back at the airport, Jensen stood from his seat, running a hand through his hair as he stared at the departure board. He tried your number again, pressing the phone to his ear as he paced back and forth near the gate. He couldn’t stay still—couldn’t stop the gnawing panic that had taken hold of him ever since the storm had escalated.

Voicemail again.

“Damn it”, he muttered under his breath, his frustration boiling over as he ended the call and tried again. The same result. He could feel the panic rising in his chest, threatening to spill over into full-blown fear. You hadn’t answered in hours, and now there was no way to reach you.

“Pick up, pick up, pick up…”, he muttered to himself, his fingers tightening around the phone. He couldn’t stand this—being so far away from you when you needed him the most. All he could think about was how he’d dismissed your fear earlier, how he’d brushed off the storm as no big deal. And now? Now he’d give anything to take those words back, to tell you that he should have been more worried.

The airport was buzzing with frustrated passengers, but Jensen couldn’t focus on any of them. The only thing on his mind was you, alone in that house by the ocean, and the guilt that weighed heavily on his chest.

He tried your number one more time, holding his breath as it rang, hoping against hope that this time, you’d answer. But when the call went to voicemail again, he felt his heart sink.

You stayed awake the entire night, your body too tense, your mind too restless to even think about sleep. The sound of the storm had been relentless, the howling wind and crashing waves making it impossible to focus on anything but the raw terror building inside you. For hours, you sat on the bed, curled up in a huge blanket, staring at the window as if waiting for the next strike.

You couldn’t bring yourself to pick up a book or distract your mind with anything else. It was like your brain refused to let go of the constant anxiety, clinging to the fear of what might happen next. The storm’s roar had felt endless, and with no way to check on the outside world, you could only imagine the worst. Every thud, every creak of the house made your heart jump, and your mind raced with thoughts of what might have been happening beyond the walls.

By the time the storm began to fade, just before dawn, you were so exhausted that you didn’t even notice when your eyelids finally began to droop. The wind had quieted, the rain now a soft patter compared to the chaos from hours before. Somewhere in that stillness, you drifted off without realizing it, your body giving in to the exhaustion and fear that had kept you alert all night.

———————————

A/N: Please let me know what you think.🥰 

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Part 2

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Taglist: @blackcherrywhiskey @baby19sthings @suckitands33 @spnfamily-j2 @lyarr24 @deans-baby-momma @reignsboy19 @kawaii-arfid-memes @mekkencspony @lovziy @artemys-ackles @fitxgrld @libby99hb @lovelyvirtualperson @a-lil-pr1ncess @nancymcl @the-last-ry @spndeanwinchesterlvr @hobby27 @themarebarroww @kr804573 @impala67rollingthroughtown @deans-queen @deadlymistletoe @selfdestructionandrhum @utyblyn @winchesterwild78 @jackles010378 @chirazsstuff @foxyjwls007 @smoothdogsgirl @woooonau @whimsyfinny @freyabear @laaadygisbooornex3 @quietgirll75 @perpetualabsurdity @pughsexual @berryblues46 @deanwinchestersgirl8734 @kr804573 @spxideyver @mayafatimakhan @deansimpalababy @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx

[aforestescape]

i'd like to speak my truth... i am not a johnny fan. he's cute, he's a rabid mutt in a cute pups body but i'm genuinely only a fan of him when simon's the one holding his leash. those baby blues do nothing for me unless they're reflecting a deeply scarred, 6'+ blonde brit in a homemade skull balaclava mask

like he's such a damn perverted loser in my head, pathetically down bad for some cock and or pussy. he's very willing to beg for it and yet the moment he goes down on you you suddenly realize this dog knows absolutely zero tricks. he's got the enthusiasm sure, but if you had to keep pulling him back to teach him you'd be well and truly dry

simon's got the patience and vengeance of a saint, he's the only reason soaps allowed on the bed in the first place. if simon isn't home you'll find that locking it in a crate or left in the backyard to be a far smarter choice. he will climb the counters to destroy your kitchen in search of snacks. yes there is a puddle of water the size of the gulf (of mexico. gulf of mexico) in the bathroom. is it from the toilet or shower? you don't have the energy to find out but not to worry simon will manage it and properly teach the mutt to mind his place and apologize

so yeah it's soapghost or no soap over here. well actually no; fem soap is hot af and i'd let her destroy me thank you

[oldfangirl81]

Group Chat with 118 and 126 Fic

Buck:

TK: Since when do you have a cat?

Buck: Technically she belongs to my boyfriend.

TK: Boyfriend!?! BOYFRIEND!?!

Carlos: My husband just shrieked so loudly I heard him in the garage.

TK: Babe!

Marjan: I think I heard him on the other side of Austin.

Paul: I thought the station alarm was going off.

Judd: Hollywood mentioned something about it a few weeks ago.

Nancy: Cute cat.

TK: I hate you all.

Eddie: You never told them how you came out to the family?

Hen: Buck does love a dramatic scene.

Buck: I am not ashamed.

Hen: No more basketball beards needed?

Buck: I have no brother in law anymore.

Carlos: Details before my husband throws his phone. Although he is extra cute when he pouts.

Marjan: 🤮

Eddie: The man kissing Buck is an LAFD pilot who used to work at the 118.

Buck: He is so cool! And hot. And nice. And talented. And has a cleft. And a great ass.

Eddie: We know. I think everyone in the greater LA area knows.

Hen: At least the ER nurses at Angels Memorial know that Tommy is a beast.

Buck: I AM NOT ASHAMED.

Eddie: WE KNOW.

TK: I WANT DETAILS. And a pic.

Eddie: Hen and Chimney already knew him. Buck and I met him at the same time when we technically stole a helicopter to go on a rescue mission of our Captain and his wife.

TK: So you have a type?

Buck: I repeat that I was not hitting on you. I didn't even know I was bisexual yet.

Hen: 🤦

Judd: Have you warned this guy he is dating one half of dumbass and dumbasser?

Buck: We met going on an unauthorized rescue into a hurricane in the Gulf of Mexico. I think we meet each others freak as the kids say.

Marjan: No

Hen: No

Paul: No

Judd: No

Carlos: No

TK: Nice.

Eddie: No but also yes. 🤮

TK: 👀

Hen: He learned to text ahead if Buck and Tommy are off at the same time.

Paul: Now I am very curious about the coming out tale.

Eddie: Buck decided the best way to come out after telling his sister and me was to bring Tommy as his date to Maddie and Chimney's wedding. And that didn't go smoothly.

Buck: Not my fault we lost the groom for a few hours. And I didn't start the fire.

Hen: Whatever, Billy Joel.

Buck: Who?

Eddie: Chimney and Maddie ended up getting married in a hospital room. Immediately after the ceremony Buck gets a text that Tommy was coming directly from the fire.

Hen: And Buck slipped out of the room to enthusiastically greet Tommy and bring him upstairs.

Carlos: Enthusiastically?

Eddie: When they came up stairs Buck had a little something on his face.

TK: 👀

Buck: EDMUNDO!

Hen: He isn't wrong.

TK: 👀 (but bigger)

Hen:

Hen: That is not a 5 o'clock shadow. That is ash transfer from kissing his boyfriend in the ER entrance.

Carlos: Really?

Hen:

Carlos: I think you broke my husband.

[pintsofguinnesmakeyoustrong]

AND IF I COULD'VE CHOSEN I WOULD'VE BEEN BORN A WOMAN MY MOTHER ONCE TOLD ME SHE WOULDVE NAMED ME LAURA I WOULD GROW UP TO BE STRONG AND BEAUTIFUL LIKE HER ONE DAY I'D FIND AN HONEST MAN TO MAKE MY HUSBAND WE WOULD HAVE TWO CHILDREN BUILD OUR HOME ON THE GULF OF MEXICO OUR FAMILY WOULD SPEND HOT SUMMER DAYS ON THE BEACH TOGETHER THE SUN WOULD KISS OUR SKIN AS WE PLAYED IN THE SAND AND WATER AND WE WOULD KNOW WE LOVED EACH OTHER WITHOUT HAVING TO SAY IT AT NIGHT WE WOULD SLEEP WITH THE WINDOWS OF OUR HOUSE LEFT OPEN LETTING THE COOL OCEAN AIR SOOTHE THE SUN BURNT SHOULDERS OF OUR CHILDREN THERE IS AN OCEAN IN MY SOUL WHERE THE WATERS DO NOT CURVE THERE IS AN OCEAN IN MY SOUL WHERE THE WATERS DO NOT CURVE THERE IS AN OCEAN IN MY SOUL WHERE THE WATERS DO NOT CURVE THERE IS AN OCEAN IN MY SOUL WHERE THE WATERS DO NOT CURVE

[wyrmfedgrave]

Pics: So, Republikkkans still deny the existence of climate change...

Maybe, it's tRump's own hot air that's to blame?

Folks, the temp of the Gulf of Mexico is now comparable to a warm bath.

BTW, this is at the uppermost layer of sea water.

But, this warm layer is now slowly expanding downwards...

Now, join that to the acidification of all oceans (from chemical pollution & oil spills) & you have a recipe for a sure disaster...

But, most people won't bother to learn until it's way too late.

End?

[livwritesstuff]

“Ed,” Steve snickers, “Look at this.”

Eddie approaches the counter and sees a piece of Moe’s schoolwork she’d brought home with her that day.

“I guess they had to make magazines or something, and...just look at Moe’s.”

The “magazine” is actually 4 pages of printer paper folded in half and stapled along the seam to turn the whole thing into a little book. The centerfold is clearly what Steve had wanted him to see, given how he’s already snickering about it as he skips past the first few Crayola-illustrated pages. Once he’s there, Eddie sees that on the left side, in big, green block letters, is the word HOT, with NOT written in red at the top of the right page.

The hot item in Moe’s Hot or Not feature is, apparently, Silly Bandz, or so she has written and accompanied with a crude illustration that definitely does resemble the ludicrous rubber bands their daughters have been fighting over for weeks.

The not item is a drawing of what appears to be a body of water, but done with green and brown crayon instead of blue. The caption below the drawing: Gulf of Mexico Oil Spill.

Ed: Oh my god.

Steve: Isn’t she a fucking genius child.

Ed: Well, it’s definitely controversial – I can see why there was only one issue.”

Steve: Oh, to be a 2000s baby

[hug-your-face]

Via Mike Montiero: https://buttondown.com/monteiro/archive/how-to-survive-being-online/

For a narcissistic sociopath, attention is oxygen. And there’s no difference between good attention and bad. They live for your reaction and they will get progressively more erratic to keep that attention coming. So every time you react, they know it’s working. Their goal is to be on stage. Their demand is that you be their audience.

I survived my father by avoiding him, hiding from him, and finding spaces where I felt safer. And I owe a giant debt to every teacher, librarian, neighbor, and friend who helped me with that.

When I see Donald Trump I see my father. When I hear Donald Trump I hear my father. (He would appreciate this comparison.) I see and hear a man who will do and say anything to get your attention. I see and hear a man who would (and will) hurt people to keep the stage light focused on him.

The only way to defeat a narcissistic sociopath is to starve them. Protect yourself from their bullshit, of course, but move away from it. Let them have their stage, but refuse to be their audience.

This isn’t easy. It’s especially difficult because capitalism is an attention economy. The New York Times and The Washington Post love a narcissistic sociopath because they generate clicks and clicks sell ads. Social media loves a narcissistic sociopath for the same reason, but it’s even worse. On social media, we’re the ones carrying their water. Trump says something that he knows will get him attention (i.e. renaming the Gulf of Mexico) and not only does it fire up hundreds of media outlets, who now divert attention to this idiocy, but it also fires up tons of people like me and you, who end up reposting his garbage. Some of us because we feel like we’re media outlets (we’re not), some of us because we’re freaked out and freaking other people out justifies our own freak-out, and some of us because we were once bitten by a narcissistic sociopath under a full moon and we want to generate some of those sweet sweet likes in our direction.

The first four years of Donald Trump was a continuous panic attack. I’m not going through that again. You don’t have to either. They’re on stage, but you don’t have to be their audience.

Am I telling you to bury your head in the sand? Far from it. I am telling you to moderate your exposure to the bullshit. Your retweet or reskeet or repost is not going to save democracy. Your hot take on some idiot’s confirmation hearing is, at most, freaking out your friends. And if you want to remain on social media, as I will be, do your best to separate the signal from the noise. Follow people who are engaged in your community, follow people who are engaged in helping others, follow people who are posting pictures of their new puppy because puppies are awesome, follow artists making cool weird shit, follow people who are creating new stages. Stages where you are welcome. Stages built on love and kindness and inclusion. Stages where the audience can take a turn getting up there as well and tell their story. And yes, follow some trusted news sources, and double check their shit with a second news source.

But the people spreading panic to generate attention for themselves? Be they elected idiots, or oligarchs, or regular folks like me and you—block at will.

[mariacallous]

On Tuesday morning, five days after Hurricane Helene ripped through Boone, North Carolina, David Marlett was on his way to the campus of Appalachian State University. The managing director of the university’s Brantley Risk & Insurance Center, Marlett was planning to spend the day working with his colleagues to help students and community members understand their insurance policies and file claims in the wake of the storm. He didn’t sound hopeful. “I’m dreading it,” he said. “So many people are just not going to have coverage.”

Helene made landfall southeast of Tallahassee, Florida, last week with winds up to 140 miles per hour, downing trees and bringing record-breaking storm surges to areas along the Gulf Coast before charging up through Georgia. But perhaps its most shocking impacts have been on inland North Carolina, where it first started raining while the storm was still over Mexico. At least 57 people are dead in Buncombe County in the west of the state alone. Communities like Boone received dozens of inches of rainfall despite being hundreds of miles from the coast. Waters rose in main streets, sinkholes and mudslides wreaked havoc, and major roads were blocked, flooded, or degraded by the storm.

Now, there’s a good chance that many homeowners in North Carolina won’t see any payouts from their insurance companies—even if they have policies they thought were comprehensive.

“The property insurance market for homes was already a patchwork system that really doesn’t make a lot of sense,” Marlett says. “Now you’re adding in the last couple of years of economic uncertainty, inflation, climate change, population migration—it’s just an unbelievably bad combination happening all at once.”

For North Carolinians, the issue right now has to do with what, exactly, private insurance is on the hook for when it comes to a storm. An average homeowner policy covers damage from wind, but private homeowners’ insurance plans in the US do not cover flooding. Instead, homeowners in areas at risk of flooding usually purchase plans from the National Flood Insurance Program (NFIP).

The way a hurricane wreaks havoc on a state is a crucial deciding factor for insurers’ wallets. Hurricane Ian, which hit Florida as a category 4 storm with some of the highest wind speeds on record, caused $63 billion in private insurance claims. In contrast, the bulk of the $17 billion in damage caused by 2018’s Hurricane Florence, which tore up the North Carolina coast, was water damage, not wind; as a result, private insurers largely avoided picking up the check for that disaster.

This breakout of flood insurance from home policies dates back to the 1940s, says Donald Hornstein, a law professor at the University of North Carolina and a member of the board of directors of the North Carolina Insurance Underwriting Association. Private insurance companies decided that they did not have enough data to be able to accurately predict flooding and therefore could not insure it. “In some ways, that calculation of 50 years ago is still the calculation insurers make today,” he says.

While the NFIP, which was created in the late 1960s, provides virtually the only backup against flood damage, the program is saddled with debt and has become a political hot potato. (Project 2025, for instance, recommends phasing out the program entirely and replacing it with private options.) Part of the problem with the NFIP is low uptake. Across the country, FEMA statistics show that just 4 percent of homeowners have flood insurance. Some areas hit by Helene in Appalachia, initial statistics show, have less than 2.5 percent of homeowners signed up for the federal program.

“Even in coastal areas, not many people buy that, much less here in the mountains,” Marlett says. “People have never seemed to fully understand that flood is a separate policy.”

Flooding is not unprecedented in the mountains of North Carolina: Hurricane Ivan swept through Appalachia in 2004, and flash floods from rivers are not unheard of. Purchasing flood insurance is mandatory with a government-backed mortgage in some areas of the country, based on flood zones set by FEMA. But the data is based on extremely outdated floodplain maps that have not taken the most recent climate science on record rainfall into account.

“The biggest non-secret in Washington for decades is how hopelessly out of date these flood maps are,” Hornstein says.

Even if water wasn’t the cause of destruction for some homeowners in North Carolina, the storm’s disastrous mudslides—another risk supercharged by climate change—may not be covered either. Many home insurance policies have carve-outs for what are known as “earth movements,” which includes landslides, sinkholes, and earthquakes. In some states, like California, insurers are mandated to offer additional earthquake insurance, and homeowners can purchase private additional policies that cover earth movements. But in a state like North Carolina, where earthquake risk is extremely low, homeowners may not even know that such policies exist.

It’s also been a tough few years for the insurance industry across the country. A New York Times analysis from May showed that homeowners’ insurers lost money in 18 states in 2023—up from eight states in 2013—largely thanks to expensive disasters like hurricanes and wildfires. Payouts are increasingly costing insurers more than they are getting in premiums. Homeowners are seeing their policies jump as a result: According to statistics compiled by insurance comparison shopping site Insurify, the average annual cost of home insurance climbed nearly 20 percent between 2021 and 2023. In Florida, which has the highest insurance costs in the country, the average homeowner paid over $10,000 a year in 2023—more than $8,600 above the national rate.

Florida has made headlines in recent months as ground zero for the climate-change insurance crisis. More than 30 insurance companies have either fully or partially pulled out of Florida over the past few years, including big names like Farmers’ and AAA, after mounting losses from repeated major hurricanes like 2022’s Ian, the most expensive natural disaster in the state’s history. Florida’s insurer of last resort, now saddled with risk from multiple homeowners, has proposed a rate increase of 14 percent, set to go into effect next year.

In comparison, North Carolina’s insurance market looks pretty good. No insurers have exited the state since 2008, while homeowners pay an average of $2,100 per year—high, but avoiding the sky-high rates of states like Florida, California, and Texas.

“What traditionally has happened is that there’s a rate increase every few years of 8 to 9 percent for homeowner’s insurance,” says Hornstein. “That has kept the market stable, especially when it comes to the coast.”

But as natural disasters of all kinds mount, it’s tough to see a way forward for insurance business as usual. The NFIP is undergoing a series of changes to update the way it calculates rates for flood insurance—but it faces political minefields in potentially expanding the number of homeowners mandated to buy policies. What’s more, many homeowners are seeing the prices for their flood insurance rise as the NFIP adjusts its rates for existing floodplains using new climate models.

Many experts agree that the private market needs to reflect in some way the true cost of living in a disaster-prone area: in other words, it should be more expensive for people to move to a city where it’s more likely your house will be wiped off the map by a storm. The cost of climate change does not seem to be a deterrent in Florida, one of the fastest-growing states in the country, where coastal regions like Panama City, Jacksonville, and Port St. Lucie are booming. (Some research suggests that the mere existence of the NFIP shielded policyholders from the true costs of living in flood-prone areas.)

Asheville, at the heart of Buncombe County, was once hailed as a climate haven safe from disasters; the city is now reeling in the wake of Helene. For many homeowners, small business owners, and renters in western North Carolina, the damage from Helene will be life-changing. FEMA payouts may bring, at best, only a fraction of what a home would be worth. Auto insurance generally covers all types of damage, including flooding—a small bright spot of relief, but not enough to offset the loss of a family’s main asset.

“People at the coast, at some point after the nth storm, they start to get the message,” Hornstein says. “But for people in the western part of the state, this is just Armageddon. And you can certainly forgive them for not having before appreciated the fine points of these impenetrable contracts.”

Marlett says that there are models for insurance that are designed to better withstand the challenges of climate change. New Zealand, for instance, offers policies that cover all types of damage that could happen to your house; while these policies are increasingly tailored price-wise to different types of risk, there’s no chance a homeowner would experience a climate disaster not covered by their existing policies. But it’s hard, he says, to see the US system getting the wholesale overhaul it needs, given how long the piecemeal system has been in place.

“I sound so pessimistic,” he said. “I’m normally an optimistic person.”

[kimyoonmiauthor]

Hi there, your Europe without trade, a worldbuilding exercise was a fascinating and educational read, kudos for all the insights!

One section has left me with dual questions however, namely:

The other rule is that the Gulf Stream still exists, so you can have that unusual European climate which is a fluke. (This also ticked off people? But seriously, to get the gradient of Europe that far north, you need to Gulf of Mexico otherwise the latitude range would look more like the US than Europe, more south, and larger, much larger. And most people don't make a continent that large. Why people get ticked off at true facts is a whole thing.)

I am rather curious about how these factors interplay with one another, IE, how the Gulf of Mexico creates an unusual climate in Europe, what about the climate is unusual and most integrally, what would the climate look like without it?

Sorry if this is a Wikipedia question, weather science is not my forte and I've love to see your take specifically on it, but not pressure.

I learned this in geography class and covered this in my worldbuilding posts, so short cutted it.

See that red arrow going to Europe from Florida-ish. That's the gulf of Mexico Stream. Hot, wet air travels from Mexico to Europe, giving you climates like the Mediterranean, the rain that Brits complain about, but also things like the South of France, Spainish warm agriculture weather.

If you want to build it super racist and cut off all PoC influence, which some people were cursing me about mentioning the Gulf of Mexico and how dare I at the time I made the original post (which was years back)

Then as my Geography professor succinctly put it, you get Siberia. Siberia, has high continentality, is extremely cold in the winter and extremely hot in the summer. You'd be able to grow NOTHING. No Europe for you. Most of the Siberian people or this reason, without the world food supply were Pastoral Nomadic people who lived in chiefdoms and tribes and survived mostly on grasslands.

The majority of maps, including Tolkien's does not include a Gulf of Mexico structure, which means high continentality and miserable weather. You're looking at only Evenk-type of people in Europe year round with probably diminishing trees, and BTW, shamanism is most likely. (or Totemism, if you follow the whole worldbuilding series I did)

If you do want an Agricultural state without The Gulf, you're more looking at China or the United States in terms of latitude, but you'd have to study China closely. This means larger latitude range with a gradual shift towards Mediterranean. But also more extreme weather, such as more deserts, more swamps, etc. And absolutely, you'd need cooperation.

There's environmental politics about China too,but you'll have to research that on your own.

This, BTW, is why I say as the first thing you probably should do is draw a map, the entire world, map the currents, and then you can figure it out. But notice Europe is really far North and the South of Spain, which is typically Warm is about equal to Newfoundland in Canada which is really cold.

And that's what you're going to get if you melt those ice caps. The summer is going to get worse. The winter is going to get even more miserable. You'll get less warm hot rain for England, etc, but crop failure rate is going to skyrocket. Unfortunately, you need those polar ice caps back ASAP because if it desalinates too much, the Earth will do everything to try to rebalance itself. And do you want that?

Read the geography worldbuilding post I put up. I got up through government loosely.

To get monsoons, you do need high continentality, which is why India, China, etc gets monsoon weather. So if you want that weather feature, understand you need more land mass, but there is the trade off of some place being like Siberia.

BTW, it's climate, not weather. Only saying it because my geography prof would be on my case if I didn't differentiate. You're looking for climate differences which are dictated by latitude, physical features and currents. Another way to screw over Europe is to Destroy the land bridge on the tip of Mexico, thus changing all of the currents and flood it.

[tomorrowusa]

Florida may be getting its second significant hurricane of the season even before the state has finished cleaning up from Hurricane Helene.

Tropical Storm Milton has formed in the western Gulf of Mexico and is likely to strengthen and hit Florida's Gulf coast as a Cat 2 or 3 hurricane in the middle of the week.

Warm waters act like jet fuel for tropical cyclones and the Gulf of Mexico has been setting heat records over the past few years. At times it almost feels like a giant hot tub.

Floridians should continue monitor Milton at the National Hurricane Center and avoid dubious sources – especially those on social media.

[katnissdoesnotfollowback]

Hello? It’s snowing outside and it made me wonder does Spellbound Katniss and Prim do Christmas? They doesn’t have to because they are not religious and doesn’t let anyone in they house so no need to pretend…

It's snowing where you are? Gah. It was 80 degrees (Fahrenheit) where I live two days ago. It's still warm enough for short sleeves. What is this discussion of Christmas already???? Granted, I am currently freezing my nose and fingers off whilst sitting at an ice arena, watching my son's third hockey practice of this long ass week, but also the Gulf of Mexico is a twenty minute drive to the south of this arena lol. I love hearing about the weather wherever my followers are.

So, to answer your question, the thing is... a lot of people in the USA celebrate Christmas even if they're not religious. The secular version of the holiday is more about spending time with loved ones and exchanging gifts than it is about anything Jesus and religion and church related, so it wouldn't take much for Katniss and Prim to blend in, in this regard. In general though, Spellbound Katniss and Prim would observe something similar to pagan holidays and traditions, where the sun cycle (solstices and equinoxes) and the moon cycles take center stage. And a holiday like Samhain/Halloween would also be a large part of their lives.

But in terms of Christmas, the pagan traditions of Yule and similar holidays would've been incorporated into their modern witchcraft practices. Also, to point out the elephant in the room, since a lot of pagan customs and traditions are alive and well within Christian holidays (gotta make the new religion palatable, so rulers tended to keep or borrow a lot from other religions), they wouldn't even stand out that much for this one. The decorated tree, the celebration of the hearth and home, even the mistletoe can be traced back to non-Christian and pre-Christian traditions.

So I see Spellbound Katniss and Prim having a decorated tree in their house, with homemade ornaments representing the stars, the sun and the moon, or derived from a celebration of nature. Think decorated pine cones and intricate feathered ornaments. Preserved flowers and leaves, that sort of thing. They'd bedeck their home in fragrant greenery and candles, have a quiet gift exchange between the two of them, enjoy a good feast and warm drinks like spiced cider and hot chocolate. They'd probably have a bonfire in their back yard and sing, maybe cast a few spells for the new year, enjoy the stars in the cold winter night, that sort of thing.

At least that's what they'd be doing before Peeta walks into their lives and they form their coven. ;) Then some adjustments might be made.

Thanks for the ask!

<3 kdnfb