#wind storm insurance

[legacymindset]

[happy74827]

The Perfect Gift of Appreciation

[Rudy Cooper (technically) x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: Being severely injured with zero money to back up your bills, you decide to take an emergency visit to the only doctor you personally know.

WC: 2897

Category: Hurt/Comfort, Slight Fluff,

A lot of you actually liked my Brian fic (love y’all), so I wanted to make another for you guys. I’m sad that there’s still none 😔😔

『••✎••』

He was absolutely pissed. Granted, he didn’t actually tell you, but the way his face fell into utter disappointment when he finally answered his door was all the information you needed. You couldn’t help but frown, your hand moving to cover your poorly bandaged arm as you watched him.

It made sense; the man had just come home from his shift, and his outfit was still intact with his suit and lab coat, with exhaustion weighing on his eyes. The man looked downright miserable, and with you looking like a wet rat from the rain and the blood seeping from your wound, he couldn't imagine a less welcome sight.

You both just stood there staring at one another, the rain pounding against the umbrella over your head. The wind was picking up, and you knew it was going to storm harder. You really couldn’t stand the look he was giving you.

"Hey, Rudy," You managed out, swallowing hard as the pain began to seep into your voice. You endured quite a lot to get here, and you weren’t about to let your pride show now.

The man before you let out a tired sigh, leaning against the doorframe as he closed his eyes.

"You do realize what time it is, don't you?" He questioned the usual cheerfulness of his voice, which was replaced with annoyance. It hurt a bit to hear, but you didn't blame him. It’s quite rude to show up unannounced, and it was even worse considering you showed up after 2 am.

Your eyes averted downwards, feeling ashamed for even showing up here. The last thing you wanted was to bother him, especially at a time like this.

Yet, you couldn’t go anywhere else. Money wasn’t quite flowing well in your area, and it was bad enough to where you had no insurance. You were a simple college student, working odd jobs here and there while balancing school and the like.

The job you had recently obtained was a janitor position for a nearby grocery store, and things seemed pretty good for a bit. It was not enough to pay those outrageous health bills, but it was getting you by.

"I need a favor... I know it's not exactly the best time to be asking, but please, just listen—" You began, the words spilling out of your mouth just as you’ve rehearsed them a million times.

Before you could continue, Rudy opened his eyes and looked down at you with a small frown. He already noticed the way you held your arm and the way you kept glancing at it. He knew what this was about; he knew the moment he opened the door and saw the desperation in your eyes.

Your name fell from his lips, drained and tired as he rubbed his forehead. He was silent for a bit, just as you were, and when he finally looked back up, his frown grew deeper.

"You seriously can’t afford to get simple treatment? How do you even know if I have the right supplies to fix something like this up, huh?"

You didn’t reply, merely biting down on your lip as you looked away. It was true, you weren't sure. Yet, Rudy had always been so kind to you, always willing to offer his help and support when you needed it.

The man sighed, closing his eyes as he ran his fingers through his hair. He couldn’t believe he was doing this; he had to wake up in a few hours, and now he had to deal with this.

The only thing keeping him from saying no was the look you gave him.

You weren’t one to beg or ask for help. You usually dealt with things on your own, and when you couldn’t, you were willing to work it off. He admired that about you, how you weren't the type to depend on others.

The fact that you were even here, soaked to the bone and asking for his help, proved to him just how serious the situation was.

You had no other choice, and he knew that.

So, without a word, Rudy stepped aside and gestured for you to enter. The relief was immediate, and before he could blink, you were inside, the sound of the rain slowly fading behind you.

The warmth of his home was a great contrast from the outside, and you couldn’t help but sigh contently as he threw his coat off and led you down the hall.

His duffel was still beside the couch, a sign that he had just returned moments before. Somehow, it made you feel worse, knowing that you interrupted his much-needed rest.

You followed Rudy through the living room, landing in the kitchen where the door to his basement was. You were about to follow him downwards, side-stepping past him, but a hand slammed against the doorframe just before you could.

Startled, you looked up at Rudy, a brow raised at the sudden stop. He was staring at you, his expression unreadable, and it made you grow uncomfortable.

"Stay here. I’ll be up in a minute, okay?" His voice changed slightly, sounding far more awake than before.

"Can’t you just do it down there? I mean, that’s where all your stuff is, right?"

Why go through all the trouble of bringing everything upstairs?

He shook his head, his lips pulling into a tight line. It looked like he was thinking something over, and when he finally spoke, he seemed hesitant.

"Just trust me, okay? Just wait here. I promise I won't be long."

You frowned, wanting to question him, but Rudy was already moving down the stairs. The door shut behind him, and the next thing you knew, you were left alone in the kitchen.

Confused, you couldn't help but stare at the door.

Why didn’t he want you down there? That was pretty odd behavior for someone who loved to brag about his work. You couldn’t recall a time when Rudy wasn’t so open about what he did.

So why the sudden change?

You didn’t want to question it, and instead, you hummed and sat down in the chair. You could hear his footsteps echo downstairs, and you waited patiently for him to return.

The sound of the basement door opening was almost instant, and when Rudy entered, you noticed the big medical box in his arms. You couldn’t help but watch the man walk around his kitchen, his movements slow and calculated as he made his way over to you.

Rudy placed the box onto the table, popped it open, and began to pull out the gloves, rubbing alcohol, and gauze. The man grabbed a chair and pulled it across from you, and as he did, he glanced up at you and smiled.

Your mind, however, was still elsewhere.

"Hiding a body down there, or something? You were taking forever, know..." You mumbled, your gaze shifting from the box to Rudy.

He chortled at the comment, glancing up momentarily to give you a small smile before resuming his task of pulling out the medical supplies.

He didn’t say anything other than the comments about your wound. How’d you get it? If it hurt, how long ago did it happen…

You know, the typical doctor questions.

Rudy took your arm in his, his hold gentle as he carefully removed the cloth that was once your makeshift bandage. You winced, hissing as the material peeled away some of the dried blood, and it caused Rudy to glance up at you apologetically.

As the cloth finally came off, Rudy didn’t make any type of comment. He didn't react to the deep cut on your arm other than the occasional flicker of his eyes. To you, it was absolutely jarring. It looked so much worse than you expected, and you couldn’t help but glance away as the man poured the alcohol onto the gauze.

He must’ve been used to this kind of thing, considering he didn’t so much as bat an eye.

The alcohol felt cold against your skin, and you bit your tongue to prevent the pain from escaping. Rudy didn't say a word as he cleaned up the wound, and you took the time to glance at the man.

Rudy was focused, his eyes narrowed as he concentrated on your wound. He was careful but quick, and his actions were precise and methodical. The way he moved was almost fascinating, and before you knew it, he was done with that part.

Rudy tossed the now bloodied gauze into the trash can that was temporarily beside the table and then reached for the next item.

The numbing shot.

The man paused, his gaze lifting from the supplies and up to your face. Rudy, the sweet and caring guy, had a very different face whenever he worked. He had his usual soft and comforting smile, but the way he constantly looked at your arm was so… cold.

He almost looked bored.

You blinked, and suddenly, he was staring at you, his brows raised.

You stared, unable to find the words, but the moment he spoke, the spell was broken.

Rudy gave you a sheepish smile, gesturing the shot in his hands. He warned you about the small prickle, gesturing to the shot in his hands, the prickle that’s never just a prick of the skin. It’s always quite painful.

The needle was tiny, but the feeling of the sensation entering your body was enough to make you grit your teeth. You felt your face grow warm, the embarrassment washing over you as the pain became a dull ache.

It didn't last long, and soon Rudy was shaking it around, supposedly making the numbing effect act faster.

Then, the waiting game. He told you around five to ten minutes, depending on your tolerance, and that's how you both ended up sitting across from one another in silence.

Rudy was tapping his fingers against the table, the only sound filling the air. You couldn’t help but notice the dark circles under his eyes, the way his shoulders sagged, and the occasional yawn that escaped him.

"I’m sorry," You said, finally breaking the silence. His facial expression didn’t help you feel better, the frown on his lips growing deeper as he shook his head.

"Don’t be sorry." He mumbled, his eyes closing briefly as he inhaled sharply. "Truth be told, I actually despise apologies. And it's not like you did this to yourself on purpose, anyways…"

That was true, you supposed. Still, the guilt wouldn't leave you alone.

When the man didn’t receive a reply, Rudy looked at you with a tired smile. His hands moved over the medical box, and with a slight push, it was out of the way and no longer between you.

Rudy then leaned forward, placing his elbows against the table, and folded his hands beneath his chin.

"You know, I miss this."

You blinked, tilting your head at him as a soft smile formed on your lips. "Me being clumsy and annoying?"

He chuckled, a sound that brought warmth to your heart, and the exhaustion was temporarily forgotten.

Rudy shook his head, and as he did, his smile faded and was replaced with something a little more sad. "Skin. The human body. Blood. The life force. I just miss it, I guess... I love what I do, don't get me wrong, but it can be a little boring at times.. It gets repetitive. The smiles are nice, the gratitude of those I treat, but sometimes I can't help but think about other things. More exciting things, y'know?"

"Suturing my arm is exciting to you? That's pretty weird, Rudy, and that's coming from me…"

You were only half-joking, and Rudy was aware. The man was silent for a moment, his gaze averted as his smile slowly returned.

A soft chuckle left him, and he leaned back against the chair, crossing his arms against his chest.

His eyes closed, and the smile on his face grew.

It wasn’t a sad smile, nor was it happy. It was a smile that said many things but nothing at all.

When his eyes finally opened, they were different. The smile was gone, and so was the warmth in his expression.

The smile he wore now was a familiar one, and the glint in his eyes was one you knew too well.

The box was moved back in front of him, and with a swift movement, the scissors and tweezers were in his hands.

Then, the conversation was over, and so was the waiting period. He did check to see if it was numb, but the moment you confirmed that it was, he went right back to work.

It was silent for the most part; you felt no pain, and Rudy was careful as he did his job. It was going by rather quickly, and with the silence that fell between the two of you, you couldn’t help but look down at your arm.

He was already halfway done. The numbing was working like a charm, and with how quickly Rudy was going, it was almost like a superpower. For a man not in his element, he seemed like he was pretty damn well in his element.

Maybe he did have a body hidden downstairs. Give him some practice.

Rudy stopped for a moment, the sudden pause causing you to lift your gaze and look at him. He was holding a new needle in his hand, a black string-like material in the other.

He was staring at your arm, the concentration on his face strong as he held the items up. It was a rather odd sight, and you couldn't help but lean closer to get a better look.

Rudy blinked, his focus snapping up at you, and he gave you a lopsided grin.

You watched him for a moment, the man simply staring back at you with the same grin, and after a moment of silence, he put the tools down.

"And, presto." He said, his grin widening, and before you knew it, he was packing up the box.

Damn, that was fast.

He wrapped the wound in an actual bandage, moving at the speed of light, and before you could even comprehend what was happening, Rudy was already finished.

The man got up, stretching out his back as he did, and he glanced down at you with a soft smile.

"I don’t keep any antibiotics around here, but a simple store trip can fix that. You don’t need anything fancy, just a simple infection control, and you should be good to go. It doesn't seem to be too bad, and if it gets any worse, then we can look into that later... at the ER."

"Right." You mumbled, not having the energy to protest. The sarcasm, the jokes, the humor... everything was gone. You were drained, and now that the whole ordeal was over, you felt yourself slouching against the chair.

You looked up at Rudy, and before you could speak, he was already talking.

"Don’t worry about it. I’ll drop you home tomorrow morning before I go in. I’m seconds away from passing out, and you look like you're about to fall over."

You nodded, a silent thank you falling from your lips. Rudy gave you a nod in response and then gestured towards the hallway.

It wasn’t too long after that you found yourself walking down the hallway with a spare pillow and blanket. The guest bedroom was empty, and when you entered, the lights were off.

You didn’t question it, and instead, you set the pillow and blanket on the bed and made yourself comfortable. He said he used this room a lot, but somehow, it looked so untouched. It wasn’t dusty, but the way the room was set up proved that it wasn't often used.

Still, you were far too exhausted to give it a second thought.

Rudy walked past the doorway, a pair of keys in his hands as he waved them around. You heard him mention something about locking up and going to sleep, and after he left, the hall was silent.

And then, after a few minutes, the house was silent.

As you lay there, a wave of exhaustion washed over you. Your arm was still numb, and you felt nothing as you gently placed your hand against the bandage.

There was no pain, no nothing. It was just ugly, and yet you were grateful.

You didn’t even know Rudy for that long. A mutual friend introduced you to one another, and ever since then, it has been a whirlwind of events.

Especially due to your overbearing clumsiness.

But tonight? What a true blessing.

You couldn’t thank him enough. Maybe you could make him breakfast in the morning. That sounded like a decent enough gift.

Unless you happened to break his kitchen or yourself, you’d have to see how things played out.

And with that, you rolled over, your eyes slowly drifting shut.

You were out within a minute. And fortunately for Rudy, so were his neighbors.

It was a rather quiet night, after all, and with his soundproof walls, no one could hear a thing.

Even with the preparation for the next present for his precious Ken, the perfect gift of appreciation, no one could hear the sounds of his true work.

Well, no one except you.

[@ghostheartbeat, @numetalnerd2007] Here’s your tag, besties! Go wild! ☺️☺️

I hope you guys liked the "realistic" approach I took here lmao. I felt really devious about this plot 😈

[mama2bears]

The Storm Of Life - Part 1

Warnings: mention of death (no main characters), tornado

Pairing: Tyler Owens/ F. Reader

Summary: You are a single mother, currently sleeping in your car and trapped in the path of a tornado when Tyler finds you. He will go above and beyond to help you put the broken pieces back together again.

A/N: I had this idea and so far it has been really easy to write. Please let me know what you think. I was thinking of just doing little chapters and maybe do a slow burn relationship? Let me know what you think and if you want to see more. I am still new at writing fan fiction, so I love your feedback! Thank you for reading.

Part 1

“THERE IT IS!” Boone pointed out the funnel, “Seems to be heading east.”

“I got it.” Tyler made a sharp right turn on the next road. The tornado was a big one and it was heading directly towards them.

“WOO!!!” Boone hanged out the window with the video rolling, “Are you guys seeing this!” he yelled for all of the YouTube followers.

“What the hell...” Tyler slammed on the brakes and Boone almost went flying.

“What the..” then Boone seen it.. A small car parked on the side of the road, hood up, smoke coming from under the hood and in the direct path of the oncoming tornado.

“HEY! You gotta get out of there! You okay?” Tyler yelled.

He saw you in the driver's seat and clearly you had been crying. You had your young son and daughter in the back.

In an instant Tyler was out of the truck, “Come on, get in my truck!” he yelled over the roaring winds. He ripped open the back door and grabbed your son while Boone ran to the other side of the car to get your daughter.

Tyler helped you in the the backseat of the truck and handed you the children, 'We gotta go!”

“LULU! My LULU!” your little girl cried.

“Honey we can't...” you say softly.

“What's LULU?” Tyler asked.

“Her stuffed bear.” you say

Tyler ran back to the car and grabbed the stuffed animal off the back seat.

“Here sweetie. We can't leave LULU behind.” he handed the animal back to your daughter and hit a button on the center console of his truck.

“What are you doing? The tornado is here!” you scream.

“I know...put those harnesses on and hold on. We don't have time to outrun it now. I've anchored the truck, we will be okay.” Tyler turned around in his seat to make sure everyone was getting seat belts and harnesses on before he slipped his own harness on.

The truck shook as the twister passed right though them. There was a loud bang outside the window and your son cried “Our car mommy! Our car is gone!”

“We're okay!” Tyler yelled in hopes of comforting them. “It's okay...tornado is passing...it's okay.”

As quick as it got started, the tornado was gone and blue skies began to appear.

Tyler turned around to speak to you and his heart broke, seeing you and your kids in tears, “Hey, hey....it's okay. I'll see if I can find your car. We'll take photos for the insurance. They'll help you get another one. In the meantime I'll give you a ride home.” he tried to comfort you.

“That car was our home. Now I really have nothing.” you cried.

Tyler sighed and his eyes meant Boone's. He knew he had to help you, but he wasn't sure how just yet.

“It's going to be okay.” Tyler opened his door. “You guys stay here. There's a lot of debris out there and I don't want anyone getting hurt. I'll go see how bad it is.”

“I am scared mommy.” Your daughter cried. Your son was looking out the window crying. Boone turned around and saw you trying your best to dry your tears and comfort the kids. He wasn't great with kids, he didn't really have any experience, but he had to try something. It was breaking his heart to see you all so scared.

“Hey...who want's some ice cream? There's a little shop right up the road.” he gave a soft smile.

The kids crying stopped. “ME! ME! ME!” came happy yells from the backseat. Boone grinned, satisfied that he had made the kids happy, at least for a moment.

Tyler returned, a heartbroken look on his face. He got in the truck and turns to the back to look at you, “Sorry miss...the car is totaled. It's wrapped around a tree back there. I grabbed some clothes and toys I found and I've put them in the back of my truck for you.

“ICE CREAM! ICE CREAM!” the children in the back were still chanting, despite you trying to calm them down and fighting back tears.

Tyler frowned, a bit confused on why the kids were cheering for ice cream.

“We gotta go get ice cream!” Boone grinned at Tyler, “And you're buying.”

“Who's idea was this?” Tyler asked the kids with a small smile.

“HIS!!!” Both kids pointed at Boone, who tried to put on an innocent face.

“Alright...Ice Cream it is.” he smiled, keying up the radio to let the rest of the team know, “We're making a emergency ice cream stop in town.”

“A what?” Lily asked.

“Just meet us at the ice cream parlor in town.” Tyler said before starting the truck and heading towards town.

“I'm Tyler by the way. This is my buddy Boone.” he said, “We're storm chasers. I am glad we came by when we did. What you doing out here?”

“I was heading into town to see about finding a new baby sitter. My old one just quite and and I can't afford to lose my job. But now I don't know what I am going to do.” you turned your head to look out the window so your kids couldn't see the tears run down your cheek.

“Hey hey now...it'll be okay...What's your name?” Tyler asked.

“I am Y/N. This is my son Billy and my daughter Harley.” you say.

“Hi Billy and Harley!” Tyler smiled, “How old are you guys?”

The kids were silent as they looked at Tyler and back to their mom, “Harley just turned 3 and Billy is 4.” you tell him.

“Four and a half.” Billy corrects. “I four and a half.”

“Four and a half.” Tyler nods and flashes you a grin, “Get it right Mom! He's four and a half.”

You give him a grateful smile as he pulls the truck into the local ice cream shop. Thankfully the twister had touched down outside of town and died out before reaching it.

Tyler opens the door for you and lifts both kids out. “This is a big truck! I love trucks!” Billy smiled.

“Really?” Boone said as Tyler opened the door for everyone, “You know T here shoots fireworks off the back of his truck.”

“REALLY!” Billy's eyes light up.

“Really,” Tyler said. “Hey, maybe later I'll let you hit the button that makes them go BOOM!”

“YAY!” Billy cheered.

“What about you, Harley?” Tyler looked at her, “You wanna shoot off fireworks too?”

She nodded, biting at her figure nails.

“She's really shy...until she gets to know you. Once she knows you, she'll be stuck to you like glue.” you say as your daughter wraps her little arms around your leg.

Tyler gives you both a smile just as the rest of the team arrived.

“Ah, here's my team! This is Lily, she operates our drone.”

“You got a DRONE too! Can we set fireworks off of THAT!”

Everyone laughs and Tyler shakes his head no, “Sorry little man. Can't set fireworks off the drone, but we can look on a screen and see some really cool videos. It will be almost like you're a bird flying.”

“COOL! I am a eagle!” Billy yells, pretending to fly around the ice cream shop.

“Billy, stop that and come here.” you scold, to which he comes over and stands next to you.

“This is Dexter. He's our scientist and weather watcher. He helps Dani with our merchandise sales.” Tyler points to Dani, “And that's Dani...she's scientist, sales, YouTube, photo taker, you name it, she does it.”

“Everyone, this is Y/N and her two little ones, Billy and Harley. Their car just got wrapped around a tree by the tornado so, we're helping them out.”

“Oh my God, are you guys okay?” Lily asked.

“Yes, Tyler got us into his truck just in time. Thank God he got there.” You were shaking, realizing just how close you and the kids came to losing your life.

“Hey, it's okay now. Don't worry.” Tyler gave you a small hug, “So, what is everyone having?”

“Chocolate.” Dani ordered, “Strawberry” came Dexter's order, “Rocky road” Lily chimed in.

“Banana Split” Boone said, “And T said he's paying for it!” he informed the team.

You and the kids are looking at the many different ice cream flavors when Tyler walks up behind you, “Know what you guys want?” he asks softly.

“Bent Socket Rip.” Harley smiles.

Tyler frowns for a moment, then catches on, “Mint Chocolate Chip, right?”

Harley nods with a smile.

“Mint chocolate chip for me too!” Billy adds.

“And what about for mom here?” he asks.

“Chocolate will be fine. “ you smile.

“Coming right up.”

Everyone gets their orders placed and takes a seat around one of the tables.

“So you're storm chasers...you do this for a living?” you ask.

“Yes..and because it's fun.” Tyler smiles. “We do this to collect data for varies weather teams and to try to approve the warning time for these storms. We go into towns and help out after a tornado. I enjoy my work, even if it's dangerous. I respect the storm, but I try to have fun with it too, that way other people will want to learn more about thunderstorms and tornadoes and maybe learn how to be safe in them.

“What do you do?” he asks.

“I am a waitress at the diner here in town. Or I should say used to be. If I don't find a sitter by tomorrow then I am fired. And now I don't even have a car...so. I don't know. If it's not one thing it's something else.” you shake your head and try to hold back the tears that want to fall.

“We'll figure something out.” Tyler promised. “I am not just going to leave you stranded.” he bite his bottom lip trying to think.

“Hey guys, once you all are done with your ice cream, why don't you take the kids out and show them all the cool stuff we've got.” Tyler told the team.

“Can I see the fireworks!” Billy asked.

Tyler laughed, “Not yet, buddy. No shooting off fireworks in the parking lot. But maybe we'll go off into a field later and fire some off.”

“YAY! BOOM BOOM!” Billy's eyes light up with excitement.

“Thank you.” You give a small smile to this guy who just happened to stop and pluck you and the kids out of a tornado's path, and now he was going out of his way to make the kids happy and try to keep their mind off of the serious of the situation.

Once the kids were done with their ice cream the team lead them out to explore all three of their vehicles and the equipment that made storm chasing possible.

“Do you have any place to go?” Tyler asked once the kids were outside.

“No...I don't even know anyone.” you turn your head away as tears rolled down your cheeks.

“Hey, it's okay.” Tyler's voice was kind and gentle, “you know me and the team..that's something.” he placed a hand on your shoulder to comfort. “How about the kid's father? Is he in the picture?”

“No. He was killed three years ago in a tornado. Him and my parents. He went to get my parents from their house because they didn't have a storm cellar and we did. They were killed on the way back to our farm. The tornado blew the truck off the road.” you broke down in tears remembering that awful day. “Harley had just be born...”

“I am sorry.” Tyler pulled you into a hug. “No family or anything around?”

You shook your head, “My parents were my only family. His family had passed away before we met.”

Tyler took a deep breath, “Okay, let me make a phone call. I think I might have an idea.”

He stood and walked to the back of the parlor.

“Hey, mom?” he said when she picked up the phone.

“Listen, I have a lady here with two little children. Their car just got destroyed in a tornado. They were living in the car. She has no family and no where to go. That's about all I know right now, but she's gonna need a place to stay and maybe someone to watch the kids. At least for a little while. She's working at a diner here in town.”

“Okay, great. Mom, thank you. I love you too. Bye Bye.”

Tyler was smiling when he returned to the table, “Okay, my mom and I have a ranch about half an hour from here. We have two spare bedrooms and you are welcomed to stay there as long as you need. She even volunteered to watch the kids when you go to work. It's just her and the animals when I am not around, so I am sure she would enjoy some company.”

You smile and hug Tyler, “Thank you, thank you so much.”

“Not a problem.” he smiled. “Wanna go shoot off fireworks on our way?”

You smile, drying your tears, “Actually, that does sound pretty awesome.”

“Hot dog, let's go do it then!” he stood and walked with you to the door, “Who's ready for fireworks!” He yelled as he pushed open the door.

The whole team screamed like kids, making you break out in laughter, for the first time in years. You didn't know what laid ahead, but at least now, you had hope that maybe you could get back on your feet again.

[love-note-musings]

˙✧˖°📷 ⋆｡˚꩜ toby x reader // creepypasta oneshot

request: HelloI May i request a oneshot where toby pins the reader against a wall and maybe threatens her but she lowkey can't focus BC she's thinking how pretty he is? The reader has a love hate relationship with him. Sorry if it's confusing.

word count: 3.6k

─── ⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆ ────── ⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆ ──────

     As the last costumer of the day left, your shoulders dropped as the tension ebbed out of your body, dropping the “customer service smile” you had plastered on for the last couple of hours. A lengthy sigh left your mouth and you shook out the tired feeling from your muscles and with a swift lock of the doors, you began your nightly routine of cleaning for close. 

      Working the night shift wasn’t so bad, you had thought, it was generally pretty uninteresting, living in a small town and all, the clientele were the same, jobs were casual, it wasn’t that horrible. Having worked at this quaint restaurant for a couple of years, you knew the ins-and-outs pretty well and you operated most of the tasks you needed to on autopilot. However, the job was one thing, and daily living was another. Of course the pay was less than what you needed to live on realistically, what with housing, insurance, and feeding yourself. You still didn’t mind the nightshift, you found it rather relaxing.

    Wiping down tables, sweeping floors and mopping, cleaning out cappuccino machines, all of it went by as fewer cars passed on the road. You could hear the breeze start of as a small gust here and there until it picked up into a violent wind that rattled the building. Soon, you figured it would begin storming, with big raindrops pelting down and you surely wanted to be in your own home underneath thick blankets before then. 

     Unlocking the back entrance, you began dragging the heavy trash-bags out in the back of the parking lot, the last thing you’d need to complete before heading home for the day. You could feel how the cold nipped at your skin and willed your legs to go faster. 

     The city was always quiet, it was still except for the symphonies trees played nearby in the forest, clanging against each other from the wind. There were stories of course, about people going in and never coming back, but there were lots of people who did come back, more so than the latter, so the locals knew it as folktales. In reality, it was just another ordinary small town, with small-towned people, small-towned restaurants, and small-towned ideas. Forest or not, it was also another small-town ideal.

     Swinging the bag into the bin, you closed it with a sharp bang just as the back door to the restaurant flew with a clang. The weather was worsening overhead with dark clouds hiding the moon and the wind was threatening to take you away with it. Your feet carried you back inside as fast as they could, one pounding after another. //

//     He crashed into the back door with a thud as his legs gave out, one arm trying to hoist himself up and another trying to stop his wound from exuding any more blood. It wasn’t anything he couldn’t handle, but the exhaustion was creeping up his body, the lights had looked like crystallized diamonds hanging off of his eyelids, and he stumbled into them with reckless abandon before collapsing on tiled floor… somewhere. Vision swimming, legs crumpled underneath him, he sat there, body trembling and nauseated, trying to grasp onto his abdomen in an attempt to convince his body to let him back up, to keep moving. It wasn’t even that bad of a wound despite its length, it wasn’t anything he couldn’t  work with, but there he was, slipping on himself in the back of some beat-up building. The lights slightly flickered every few seconds, the buzzing of electrical appliances seemingly rang through his ears in tenfold, there was nothing in his stomach but his body forced him to empty it anyway, spilling out nothing onto the black and white tiles besides the gagging noises coming from him. He couldn’t stop the movement from racking his body once again as he dragged himself forward. 

     There was a scream, a crash maybe, all he saw was a figure with their arms raised high, ready to pounce on him, everything else was foggy besides the lights. Big, bright lights. Groggily, he looked up with lidded eyes, mouth slightly agape, nostrils flaring, trying to allow more oxygen into his lungs. He yelled at his brain to move faster and to process the situation, finding nothing once again but some static sound that filled it. Their mouth moved, and the sound flowed back into his ears, slowly, and then all at once.

     “I said—“ they cleared their throat “do you need me to call the authorities?” There was an umbrella raised threateningly in their hands, knuckles already turned white. It looked like their breath was caught in their throat and their body shaked. He slowly registered the information piece-by-piece, stringing together some semblance of thought. 

     Slowly, he forced his head to move side to side, shaking ‘no’. 

     “Are you hurt?” They asked authoritatively, despite the tremble in their knees.

      Again, another rather slow nod, another no. Hurt was subjective, after all. 

     Sighing, they lowered the umbrella just a little more to their side. “What do you need? Are you in trouble?”

     He ended up coughing violently, his head was spinning and he was mentally whacked. “b.. bath- can I use your b..athroom.”

     They stood off to the side and pointed towards it, watching his movements as he tried to force himself to stand upright. He managed to get up to his knees before crashing over again. 

     “I’m going to help move you there, okay?” they said as they set the umbrella down against the wall and moved closer towards him. He nodded once and they hooked an arm underneath his and guided him to the bathroom. 

     They turned on the light inside, indicated him to ‘be careful’ and that ‘there was a first aid kit under the sink’, before leaving him alone with a soft close of the door. 

     Toby gazed at himself in the mirror, bracing his weight against the sink before shakily turning the knob and splashing himself with cool water. How many days had it been since he had first left? He couldn’t even recall how long he’d been out, but it was long enough for his body to put the brake lights on his activities and start naming demands. And one of the demands was water. He earnestly started to drink the water from the faucet, cupping his hand and bringing it up to his lips over and over again.//

//     Meanwhile, an exasperated worker decided to flick back on the lights to the dining room and begin preparing a small meal to share with the guy who just stumbled into their restaurant. They didn’t really know what his deal was, nor did they care to know, they just wanted to give him something to eat before sending him back out into the storm. If he wouldn’t talk then maybe he’d eat and be able to go back home or something like that. Whatever the case was, it wasn’t your responsibility to know, but you’d also be damned for not trying to help him out just a little bit. 

     It took awhile, but the bathroom door finally clicked open and close again. Toby stumbled along the hallway and followed the light into the dining room. There were bandages wrapped around his abdomen and minor scratches on his legs and arms. His body was exhausted and his mind was more or less alert. 

     “Hey,” when you saw him feebly inch his way, you quickly went over and offered a hand, to which he shaked it off. Regardless, you told him where he could sit in the dining room,  a little booth by the kitchen door, and watched to make sure he settled himself well. You made a note of how determined he was despite his body practically shutting down, and he hadn’t tried to stop himself yet. Even as he fell into the booth, you watched as his body relaxed and his eyes stayed vigilant, always looking this way and that, carefully observing. It was fascinating. But again, it wasn’t your business. 

     You placed a plate in front of him with leftover food from the fridge and a pastry you had been saving to take home. “You have a drink preference? I can get you water.” He shook his head and you got him a glass of water anyway, of which he eyed a bit oddly, sipping little by little. When he saw the food, however, you noticed that he immediately went for the pastry.

     He was…strange, at the very least, that’s what you gathered as you watched him from the kitchen picking at his food and glancing around every couple minutes to double and triple check his surroundings. If you had to admit to yourself, you just wanted to go home, and by now it was raining, evident by the sound of raindrops pattering onto the rooftop. You were tired too, having worked all day, cleaning up and waiting on people, and now doing it all over again for a second time. Thankfully tomorrow you’d have a day off. 

     When he drank all of the water in the glass, you went over to refill it. “My name’s Y/n, what’s yours?” You asked with as much normalcy as possible, hand settling on your waist as you stepped back to watch his expression. 

     “Toby.” He muttered, before eating more and ignoring you. 

     “It’s nice to meet you, Toby.” 

     Sometime while you were re-cleaning the kitchen, you heard the bells on the door open with a clamor and close. Shrugging, you supposed he would have left, and you didn’t expect anything more from him. But now that you were thinking about it, it was kind of weird for someone to stumble in from the back of the building, but lots of things happened out in the forest. People go out with their friends, some people like hunting deer, who knows? Some kid could have just gotten mixed up with the wrong people and left out there. You don’t consider it much, but you sealed it away in the back of your mind as a little note for later as you left the restaurant and headed home. Personally, you had never experienced anything bad out there. //

//    It became more common for ‘Toby’ to show up after closing hours. Every few days or so, he’d show up looking tired and miserable, he’d ask to use your bathroom and then lug himself out to the dining room while you gave him the leftovers. You didn’t push him to talk about himself and settled for short conversations about the weather, or asking if he needed you to call anyone this week. Whenever you asked if he needed anything, he’d say no and continue eating solemnly, playing with his food and acting almost disinterested with it. 

     “What’s your favorite food?” You asked while chewing a piece of bread from the pantry. 

     Toby shrugged, “I don’t really have one.” 

     “There has to be something that you like at least? Can’t you think of something? I can try to make sure we keep some of it here.”

     He pondered for a moment, putting his fork down. You never questioned his sudden movements or verbal outbursts at all, figuring it’d be best not to pester him with questions since he obviously couldn’t control it, other people probably bothered him enough. Toby answered you quietly, “I liked that pastry you first gave me, I..I don’t remember when that was.”

     “Hmm.. okay. I can get it for you next time.”

     And the next time you did, and the time after that, until you were sure that he was sick of it every time you served it to him. But he never said anything and accepted it without a word.

    Perhaps you could say that the two of you had come to a mutual understanding, maybe a friendship, and you wouldn’t admit it to yourself that you looked forward to your short and awkward meetings. You didn’t know much about each other, but you felt comfortable despite his out-of-the-normal appearance and habits. It was non-judge mental, as far as anyone else was concerned, nothing happened here after-hours anyway.

     You found yourself tracing his facial features in your mind, promising them to memory and making mock-paintings in your mind. He had pretty eyelashes, his skin was pale and light, he had deep scarring on the side of his mouth, that’s why you assumed he wore the mask in public, you couldn’t be sure though, and you could be less sure about the googles attached to his jeans. The only thing is that you’d wish he’d eat more since it was obvious his health wasn’t the greatest. Whenever you saw him, he was almost always exhausted and almost ready to pass out. Although, besides the first time you met, you didn’t see him with any more wounds, so you supposed it was just some off-handed accident and nothing intentional. 

     Yeah, you politely admitted to yourself that you were quite fond of your new and odd friend. Perhaps attracted, whatever attraction meant. You found him nice to be around. And maybe, just maybe, you wanted him to feel the same. It had been a long time since you’ve had a proper friend. . . 

     Rock songs played from the radio atop the refrigerator, melodies soft and sweet, they played from collections of the classics and you loved it. During your shifts you’d lose yourself in the tune, pretending that you existed inside music videos and getting lost in a world where the waiters and waitresses were the main characters. You had asked Toby a while ago if he liked the station you left the radio on, hoping it was to his tastes. He had replied affirmatively, and you had kept the radio on that station every time he visited. 

     “Come on, get up.” you instructed, coming around the bar and onto the dining room floor. 

     “What?” He asked, nonetheless getting up from the barstool and following you along. 

     “You like this song, I like this song, let’s dance.”

     “But I don’t know how—“ Toby insisted as you took his hands anyway.

     You scoffed with a fool’s smile, “Neither do I.”

     At first you dragged him along around the dining room floor, navigating between the tables and chairs, tapping to the beat. He was awkward and didn’t know how to move his legs, flinging this way and that, but eventually he fell into your pattern and moved along. You both laughed, rocking your bodies to the beat hand in hand. Swaying left and right and once or twice trying spin each other. At one point, Toby almost toppled over into a couple of chairs, but you grabbed on tight to his hands and didn’t let go. A silly little smile spread across your faces and the two of you turned giggly as a new song started playing and the dance continued. 

     It was true—the two of you really didn’t know how to dance, and if anyone were to look into the windows they’d see two people who were wildly uncoordinated. You felt like you owned the world and that your body was perfectly aligned to the songs, you saw Toby and how he finally looked relaxed, mouthing along to the lyrics and shaking his arms around freely with his eyes closed. When you started screaming out the lyrics yourself, belting out notes pitches too high or low, he didn’t hesitate in joining you, resulting in one grand cacophonous harmony. 

     When Toby left later that night, it hit him in the face. Realization, fear, all of those types of things that crept up his back and settled into the crock of his neck before lodging itself into thought. That feeling, it settled inside of him and wouldn’t leave, it overwhelmed him and gnawed away at his stomach lining. Toby was never still, and it was more apparent now as the anxiety rose up his cheeks. He gulped, drank from the water bottle you had given him, slipped his hatchets into his belt loops and disappeared back into the forest. He always left his hatchets hidden behind your restaurant whenever he visited you. Just so you’d never see them with all the dents and stains that’d scare you away and leave him alone again. Toby really hated being alone sometimes.

     And Toby also knew who he was. It was evident by those same stains. It haunted him. He would never be able to sleep without seeing all of the things he’s witnessed, that he’s done. While knowing who you also were, he knew that you wouldn’t need him, that you’d need to help other people that got lost at night, who just need a helping hand. He’d hope you’d be able to help a lot more people than just him. You’d need to forget him, or at least you would, eventually. //

//     The night was quieter than normal. There was no radio playing, there were no cars passing by on the road, and there was no rain or wind, clear skies all day and all night. In short, it was boring. You were propped up by your elbow as you leaned over the bar countertop, idly skimming through the contents in some magazine left here by another customer. Only one customer remained, a pleasant old man who stopped by during the weekdays to watch the news on the television here. With a yawn and a tip, he left too, and you weren’t bothered to immediately lock the door after his departure. It had been a slow day.   

    He was behind the restaurant, hunched behind some garbage cans and waiting to hear the last car pull out from the parking lot. Everything was still and he was seeing the place for the first time with orange-tinted lenses.  He shook and shivered, bones rattling, and he couldn’t stop his arms from jerking even as he held himself together tighter. The last customer was gone. Now he just had to wait for you to come outside. Rocking back and forth to calm himself, he toyed with the fraying strings on the edge of his sleeves, occupying his mind and trying to distract himself from the bloodstains forming on his shirt and pants, not to mention the uncleaned hatchets that hung by his side. It wasn’t until a rather loud clang that he was snapped out of his trance.

Shooting up from his hiding spot, he made his way over to you without even a trickle of a sound. 

     All of a sudden you were shoved back towards the building, the air was knocked out of your chest from the force and you stumbled back. Toby had one hand blocking your exit, and another raised high above your head with a hatchet threatening to crack your skull open. 

     He stared at you, questioning himself, looking at you and then the hatchet and then you - you were terrified, and trembling, and god he wanted to disappear right at that moment, to drop everything and cling onto you. And he knew it wasn’t going to happen, but still his arms wobbled and there was a hitch in his throat. One hand slowly went to his mouth to stop the whimperings from escaping and the other slowly lowered his weapon until it fell onto the pavement.

     How could he be so stupid? He caved for the niceties, any inking of kindness and he instantly folded his hand. It wasn’t the terror in your eyes that had stopped him, it was just you. The way it felt to be so close again, how his body responded by going weak, he wanted to stay like that for a long time, he wanted to stay by you for as long as you’d let him. But he couldn’t do that, could he? Trust is a delicate thing. He knew that lesson well.

     You stood there with your back pressed painfully against the wall, your heart was beating frantically against your chest, your muscles were tense, your eyes were glued on Toby as he lost his resolve and crumbled down onto the ground in a heap with his head in his hands. Sobs wracked his body up and down and he heaved. Kneeling down next to him, you grabbed the hatchet and threw it as far as you could, considering for a moment if you should comfort him or not before placing a hand tentatively on his back, rubbing circles once he responded to your touch. The goggles on his face were fogging up, and you carefully found the clasp underneath a topple of tangled brown hair, letting it fall onto the ground as you wiped the tears falling down his cheeks with your hand and slipped off his facial mask. 

     His eyes did not meet yours, leaning over and making himself seem small. He sobbed until there were no more tears left, and even then his chest just heaved wildly as he struggled to find an even breathing pace. Kneeling closer, you wrapped your arms tighter around him, embracing, whispering in a soothing voice. 

     Toby wrapped his arms around your waist, slowly at first before completely enveloping you, resting his head into your lap. You felt nice, and comfortable, safe. He hung onto you for dear life.

─── ⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆ ────── ⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆ ──────

originally posted on quotev/citrusyfruits, reposted with permission

[lilmissbacon]

Rotg world building — Thoughts and theories

This was originally just going to be a reblog to THIS post but then I ended up going down a rabbit hole of my thoughts and opinions, so it became too annoyingly long for peoples/my preference.

Most of the post really expresses how I've always viewed the world of spirits in Rotg. The only thoughts I'm not really a fan of is the idea of some spirits not having physical forms and just being like big storms. Because what's the point of humanoid spirits being invisible to humans if they have no physical forms to other spirits as well?

I never saw Jack talking to the wind as the wind being an active spirit, I saw it as him just being so lonely he'd pretend the wind was alive to not feel so alone. After all, he only addressed the wind 1 time, if it were an actual being I feel like it'd be addressed more than once. Especially when Jack needed to get out of Antarctica: why would he need to fix his staff to fly out if the wind could've just picked him up unless he was the one making the wind? And like the post linked above said, the comics are unofficial. They're cool and I love them but they're not canon.

I do love the idea of their being 2 generations of spirits. Pre-MiM and post-MiM where the legends of Gods and myths are tales of the original spirits mistaken for higher deities and distorted over time. After all MiM wasn't always there (at least in the books) so how were their seasons/seasonal spirits on earth before him unless they were just natural to earth?

Plus it's made apparent through Sandy's death in Rotg that spirits are not 100% immortal, just non-aging. I think there is an open window for spirits to come back like Sandy did, if an influx of enough people believe, Tinkerbell style. But after maybe a year or so, that window is closed, that spirit is full on dead and that spirit needs to be replaced to keep the world in balance. So there could've been hundreds of spirits that have been lost but then replaced by MiM. I also think only magic can kill spirits, since Jack managed to fall from like 300+ feet in the final battle and walk it off without so much as a limp. Like, it still hurt, he clearly felt the pain, but he could still run, jump, throw hands and everything. He only groaned like he tripped down a small set of stairs.

Guardians are the only ones who could die without belief due to the vow they take. I feel like that vow tying their lives to belief could've actively been like an insurance policy to insure that the Guardians stay true and keep doing their jobs to fulfill childhood. It may be controlling and borderline manipulative for MiM to make them do that but I'm sure we're all in agreement that he is pretty gray as a character in the movie when you really think about it. And I could even see where he's coming from with this idea. After all, who knows how many spirits he may have made thinking they were good people, only for them to go dark and become evil. I'm sure MiM would hold a lot of guilt whenever those bad spirits hurt others or even feel at fault for making these decent people, eventual villains. Besides the Guardians know they could die if they lose belief when they make the vow, so it's not like MiM tricked them, that's consented. The Guardians just forgot to tell Jack that.

Now, I always saw "Spirit Society" as all spirits know of each other and word always gets around when new ones are made. I don't think there's a hidden city or village (other than maybe Santoff Clausen if it's even still around. And only for some of them, it wouldn't be big enough for all spirits in my mind) but rather they make homes for themselves and just cross paths with each other all the time. Kinda like the countryside; everyone's homes are far apart, but you still see each other in stores or at work.

I'm not quite sure how the news and knowledge would spread between spirits so often unless they were either all huge gossips or had yearly meets or something. But you know what, I'd be willing to bet that there are a few "messenger" spirits similar to Hermes in Greek myth, that just fly everywhere, spreading word for other spirits to make sure everyone is in the loop.

In my mind, Bunny's aggression early in the movie was meant to kinda show how most spirits saw Jack. After all, he's the only one who didn't feel like he'd be super recluse due to his job as he's the only one who doesn't work all year-round.

Unless he's a complete hermit, what is he doing for the rest of the year other than going out and hanging with other spirits?

I think most spirits hate Jack for being a troublemaking spirit that honed the deadliest season. That could just be my angst fanfic brain making things up but why else would Jack be so desperate to look towards humans to connect with unless he has tried with other spirits who could see him and was only met with backlash?

'Cause I have seen a few people complain that the ending of the movie contradicted Jack's arc of wanting to be seen only to leave the few believers he'd finally made. But that was never the point. He has what I like to call a fake-out arc; where it's said he wants one thing but his actual goal is different. He asks why he can't be seen, he tries his best to get people to believe in him, but he's doing it in an effort to find a family.

He mentions how no one can see him but he's more devastated over why he was left alone. That's his main question in this scene. He doesn't outwardly ask why he's alone specifically, but asking MiM "why" just after he was looking so longingly at Jamie's family is clearly meant to insinuate that that is what he really wants. He may even be telling himself it's just to be seen because he's been alone for so long that he just wants the bare fucking minimum. That's why the end of Rotg is still satisfying despite leaving his new believers, because being seen was never truly the end goal, it was finding a family and he finally found that in the other Guardians.

He clearly believed that he couldn't be accepted by other spirits, so he looked to humans to find that connection and getting to be seen by them was just a first step towards that goal.

It's the same thing in Tangled (because I have encountered someone who thought Rapunzel was one-dimensional for just wanting to see lights 😮‍💨) Rapunzel sang and always told Gothel + Eugene that she just wanted to see the floating lights, but the moment she steps out of her tower she starts singing in exhilaration about how she can finally go running, dancing, jumping and splashing. She never even mentions the lights. It had nothing to really do with the lights, she just wanted to leave her tower and explore the world. Seeing the lanterns was just her externalized and internalized excuse because she wanted to feel less awful for going against her 'mother'. Her wanting to explore the world was then more blatantly explored in Tangled the Series.

Edit: Pitch even straight up mentions about longing for a family when trying to sympathize with Jack and it's that very line that makes Jack lower is guard. Not the line about not being believed in, longing for a family. Jack even looks super sympathetic for him.

After Pitch killed Sandy, after witnessing first hand the belief fading from all the kids around the world and being framed for Easter's failure, possibly ruining Jack's relationship with the Guardians, Jack still feels bad for Pitch in this moment. That's why Jack lets Pitch say his piece in this scene despite knowing that he was never going to join him (you can tell he was never buying into Pitch's words and Jack didn't hesitate to refuse). He was even willing to try and just walk away after refusing his offer rather than keep fighting. Because he understands that desperation of wanting to be loved by just being seen and/or heard.

That's part of what makes him such a good layered character: the fact that he always used mischief in an effort to try and be seen, similar to when kids act out to get their parents attention. It leads the other spirits to think that he's nothing more than a troublemaker (and even audience as well, the amount of mis-characterization I've seen people make of Jack, istg) when in reality he's actually a very respectful, emotional, sweet and even responsible person that does know when to stop being silly. Jack never played around when actual danger came around, the only time he did was a one quip to Sandy because he was nervous and in the final battle when he realized being funny takes away Pitch's control.

And even then it was brief, after the kids started turning the sand gold again, Jack went right back into serious battle mode.

Kinda shows how not really mischievous Jack truly is when it takes him so long to realize that being fun can weaken Pitch. Because he's not really a trickster, he doesn't even really pull many pranks, he's just playful. But he had been cranking that up to 11 for the past 300 years in an effort to be seen, he inadvertently kept deterring other spirits away, who may had already not liked him just for being an ice based spirit. After all, whenever Bunny wanted to take a stab at Jack it was either at his invisibility or for his ice. Granted that could just be because Bunny himself just doesn't like the cold or even strictly because Jack made that blizzard on Easter but then again, we never got to see that for ourselves. We don't know if Jack even did that on purpose or not.

Last note; I don't think any other spirits died to become spirits like Jack did. It's my personal headcanon that the reason Jack couldn't remember his past is because he's the only one who had actively died before MiM got the chance to turn him. Though for all we know there could be a few others who also forgot their pasts. If there are, Jack clearly never got the chance to ask.

The way this kinda diverged into a mini Jack Frost character analysis though 😅

[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.

[bamboozledbird]

the children. they yearn for you and your stories. i hope you're doing well and just know that you are so very missed and appreciated here 💙💙💙💙

thank you so much :') i'm still searching for another job and more importantly good heath insurance rip, so sweet messages like this really help lower the cortisol levels lmao.

i haven't had a lot of time or energy to write, but here is a little snippet of something i'm working on to hopefully quench the yearning. it is not edited or finished obviously.

It’s an icy slice of fear that wakes you up. A white flash of ‘fight or flight’ behind your sleep-sticky lids. A rattling at your window that isn’t the rain or the wind echoing in the moonlight. It’s a familiar sound, someone scrambling on the loose tiling of your roof, but a forgotten one. It’s strange, sweet-sharp, and out of place in your current reality. 

A noise that shouldn’t exist outside of a memory. 

Stiles spills into your room and lands on his knees, dripping water onto your hardwood floor. His hair is plastered to his forehead from the angry squall outside, and the dark clouds are a mocking reflection of the look carving out the hollows of his face. The moon has eclipsed all the sunlight in his eyes, and it feels so, so cold.

For a moment, you think you’re dreaming or maybe still in that luminescent oil slick between sleep and consciousness. Stiles looks like something from a dream—a nightmare. He’s there, but he isn’t. He’s a boy, but he isn’t. He’s lost to something you can’t see, swept up in the storm and turned into something else.

You sit up in your bed and wait for him to say something—to move. He just stays there, soaked to the bone on his knees, and stares at something beyond the shifting shadows on your bedroom walls. 

“Stiles?” 

He doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t even make a sound. You crawl out of your bed and sit down on the floor next to him, draping a woven blanket over his shoulders. It almost matches his flannel, blue and checkered. It’s a little detail that would’ve made you smile before, mostly because Stiles would get this warm look in his eyes: so fond it felt like worship. 

It’s fall. The air smells like apples and earth. You watch the shadow of little fish swim in jagged circles through murky water. Stiles is a warm presence against your side. 

He buries his nose in your hair and hums, “You like the pieces.” 

“I guess.”

You feel his smile against your temple.

“Me too.”

You still wake up with the taste of him sticking to your teeth, sweet honey and sharp cloves, but it’s hardly enough. Does he ache for who you were that Friday? Does he still love that girl in his arms–orange and warm under the setting sun, blissfully unaware of the end. 

What does Stiles think when he looks at you now? Does he think about you at all? 

You spent so long thinking you weren’t supposed to be friends, and now you don’t know what you’re to be. How can you belong to a memory?

[breelandwalker]

Ahhh it's one of those weeks when we laugh to keep from screaming.

While recovering from my covid vaccine hangover and trying to track down the no-call-no-show contractors who were supposed to come and repair our broken furnace, I heard a dripping sound from the ceiling that turned out to be a roof leak in our attic. Probably from the big storm earlier this year, we had some bad wind shears come through and some of our neighbors lost shingles and siding, so I wouldn't be surprised. We don't have roof access to check, so it's bucket and insurance claim time.

Mind you, this is less than a month after husband's car finally went kaput and we had to get a new one, plus the kitties needing their annual checkup and flea treatments, and our home warranty is coming due (even though it takes some GALL to ask us to renew when they've been so useless with the current claim).

Catch me coping with this by screaming into a jar and then staying up late bingeing Penny Dreadful and making new batches of powder for the shop. Just like a witch, ain't it?

So suffice it to say, there's a few surprises heading for the shop in the coming months, and I'll have several new things on my table for the Yule weekend markets, if anyone wants to swing through Williamsburg or Richmond the weekend of the 21st. (And of course, regular shop orders are always welcome.)

Hope your December is going better than mine! 😅

[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.”

[greetingfromthedead]

10. Clutches of Death

Series: Mermaid!AU Depth of Despair

Pairing: Vash x GN!Reader

Word count: 2.3k

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"Meryl, don't you think we should have followed Mr. Captain?" the tall woman asks her companion.

"No, Milly. That goofy looking guy couldn't possibly be the pirate captain!" Meryl says with confidence, "He was probably just a distraction to weed out the foolish ones and to get people like us off their trail! But we won't be deceived!"

"So many went with him. He does have the looks of a pirate," Milly continues to ponder.

"And they will all probably have realized now that they were tricked and gone home," Meryl responds almost smugly, "But if you insist, we can peek outside and see for ourselves. We just gotta keep our eyes peeled for the real Captain Stampede; if we let him slip away, we will be sacked!"

"That is true. The company will pay out the insurance claims from our own pockets!" the tall woman sounds concerned, but stands up from the table regardless.

Together they move to the pub doors and push it open just enough to peer outside. It is pouring rain, and the wind is howling, making it difficult to see anything clearly. In the darkness, lanterns sway back and forth as men carry them to light their way along the slippery pier.

"Looks like something is happening," Meryl comments, narrowing her eyes to see better.

"I still don't understand why he insists on the fishing boat. The military ships dock right here!" A man speaks loudly to be heard over the rain and crashing waves.

"Yes! It's almost as if he wants to go back to the bottom of the sea!" A different voice answers from the same direction.

"If we took a military ship, we wouldn't have to be carrying canons to a dinghy!" A third stranger chimes in and catches Meryl's attention.

"Canons? We better investigate!" the short woman announces and takes a step outside, almost immediately getting soaked even as she pulls her cape closer together, the hood covering her black hair.

Milly follows the other woman, towards where the three men are going; their labored breathing and grunts can be heard even over all the noise of the storm. More lanterns can be seen swinging in the wind, attached to a large fishing boat, but it is still too small to be called a real ship.

The women squat behind some wooden boxes, watching as the canon is carried into the boat. Men speak to each other, but there is no sign of the stranger in the red coat.

"We should report this immediately!" Meryl announces, straightening her back and taking a deep breath. As soon as she turns to head out, a bell is rung, others following shortly after.

"Thieves!" a booming voice announces. "Thieves on the docks!"

With that, chaos ensues. More shouting can be heard from either side. The men on the boat bark commands over each other while the ringing bells lure out others from the pubs and the houses, and lights start to shine from the shore where people's residences are. The night is now filled with commotion and confusion.

"Cut the ropes!" a command echoes from the fishing boat as the crew works quickly to free the vessel from the pier.

Steps echo along the wooden dock as a few soldiers come running towards where Meryl and Milly are. The girls brace themselves to be run over, but luckily they are safe. The men come to a sudden stop, at the end of the pier and open fire from their muskets, but as the girls watch, the fishing boat disappears into the darkness. One by one the lanterns go out, and the vessel is gone, shrouded by the night and storm.

"Alert the commander! Alert the commodore! Pirates!" One of the soldiers commands the other two, and each of them hurries off in a different direction.

"Oh no, looks like Mr. Captain got away from us!" Milly sounds defeated.

"Those were just thieves, regular pirates! There is no way Captain Stampede would make off in a fishing boat!" Meryl puffs out her chest confidently.

With sunrise, the waves calm down and the sea glistens under the morning sun that peeks from between the remnants of the storm clouds. Every man on the boat is exhausted and drenched from head to toe. At the helm, Vash stands strong and determined, guiding the boat through the remaining rough waters. He is just as tired as the crew he leads, but he refuses to show any weakness. He hopes to have made enough of a lead under the cover of night that any pursuers will have a hard time finding them in the open waters.

An especially pale man sits down on the wet deck, almost sober from his night of drinking. He clearly isn't feeling well, leaning his head over the railing and retching into the sea, but his stomach has been empty for a while now. He continues to struggle with the nausea, his face turning even paler as he tries to regain his composure. He rests his cheek on the cool, wet railing, and with slightly slurred speech, he starts to quietly sing:

"The captain stood with a steely gaze, As the waves did rise and the ship did sway, With a map in hand and a course to chart, We sailed away with a hopeful heart.

Heave ho, me hearties, heave ho! Through stormy seas and winds that blow, We’ll brave the waves, we’ll face the foe, Heave ho, me hearties, heave ho!"

What Vash wouldn't give for a map? His plan was grand, but he doesn't know where you are. The last thing he saw was the nightmarish image of scaled hands appearing from the waters; their long and clawed fingers grabbed on to you and dragged you into the inky darkness of the sea. He kept calling out to you, but there was no answer.

He wanted to dive after you, wrap his arms protectively around you, and keep the other creatures of the depth away, but he knew it was too late. The best he could have hoped for was a quick death at the hands of whatever lurked below. He knew how fast mermaids can be, and he was no match. He would have been unable to see, unable to breathe, and unable to do anything to get you out of the clutches of the sirens. The plan formed in his head immediately, and he knew he must do all that he can.

He set the course to where he noticed you disappeared to more often than not. He isn't sure if you returned to your kin every time he left the bay, but it is the best lead he has. The waters are familiar to him; around these parts, it was that his ship, the Typhoon, got claimed by the ocean some years ago. It was a strange and stormy night—the worst that he has seen in his life. He can remember it so vividly—how the waves crashed against the side of the ship and the wind howled fiercely, tearing the sails and pushing his men overboard. The creaking and cracking of wood still echoes in his ears—the unnatural way the ship moved and caved in on itself. Vash had abandoned the helm, and the ship to try and save his men, but it was too late. The lifeboats were destroyed, and the slippery deck swallowed up anyone who tried to move across it. A few managed to tie themselves to the railing, but Vash lost his grip. He would have been plunged into the icy waters if it wasn't for the broken mast that shifted and fell on him, crushing his left arm completely. He screamed in agony as he felt the bones snap into dust. More scraps fell around him, the waters crashing above him as the vessel got dragged down. He refused to go out like this; he pulled the sword from his hip and freed himself by chopping through what he could. He slipped through the top deck, into the interior of the ship, slicing his skin on the jagged edges of broken wood and metal. Water and blood sprayed around him as he looked for his men, his vision getting blurrier and darker by the second. His legs gave out from the loss of blood and the capsizing of the ship. Vash tried to use the sword as a walking stick, but it was of no use. He put it away in the scabbard and tried crawling towards the part of the ship that was above water. He pulled himself upward with his right arm, but got tangled in the ropes. More crashing sounds envelop the ship; more of it gets crushed, and through his disapearing vision, he sees the darkness of night forcing its way into the hull of the boat. He made peace in that moment, knowing that his fate was sealed. To be claimed by the ocean was a fitting way to go; his only regret, as he slipped away, was that he didn't get to save anyone on the Typhoon.

"Can you steer?" Vash asks from the man tying some ropes beside him.

"Yes, captain!" he answers.

"Take over for me for a little, please. Just keep her steady," Vash instructs while taking a step away from the wheel, but keeping one hand on it until the other guy switches with him.

Vash takes a few steps forward and then down the steps to the main deck. He looks at the people resting from the tiring night, a few working on getting all the cargo secured. They nod at him, acknowledging his leadership that got them all through the storm in one piece. The pale man still sits where he fell, his cheek leaning against the wooden railing as he sings a different shanty:

"Oh, the waves were high and the night was dark, When we sailed into the mermaids’ park, Their eyes did gleam with a ghostly spark, And their song was a haunting lark.

Beware the mermaids, fierce and wild, With voices sweet and hearts beguiled, They’ll drag you down to the ocean’s floor, And you’ll sail the seas no more."

A shiver runs up Vash's spine as he hears the words, his muscles tightening in fear. There is so much unknown before him. From if he can find you to if he can save you. From if he can make it home to if he can keep you safe. He dove in blind, with nothing but his devotion to guide him. So he will pretend his way through this. He will put on a brave face, hiding the uncertainty he really feels inside.

Vash makes his way to the bow, noticing how the water gets calmer by the second; the surface up ahead is still and smooth like a mirror. The clouds seem to get lower and lower until they almost touch the water below. Vash feels eerie, and a few of the crew notice the strange atmosphere too. The thick fog surrounds the boat as it continues to gently glide through the calm waters.

The sailor still sings, his words slurred and lazy, but then another, different, voice joins with a new song. The new voice is haunting and raises goosebumps all over Vash's body. They are so clear, the notes hanging in the air like delicate threads of silver. A very old melody, a song from generations ago:

"When the moonlight dances on the sea, I think of you, my love, so free. With every wave that kisses the shore, I pray for you to come back once more."

With each line, more voices join in, and Vash looks around to notice heads poking out from the water, surrounding the boat, more of them waiting up ahead. The crew all get on their feet too, captured by the sweet melody, and they lean over the railing to hear the mysterious singers.

"Oh my, he was telling the truth!" one of the sailors exclaims, "Sirens! We're in the land of the mermaids!"

"Sail away, my love, sail away, But remember my heart’s where you’ll stay. Though the ocean’s wide and the journey long, In my dreams, you’re never gone."

The men are enamored by the melodic sound of the sirens' voices. A few dozen of them surround the vessel, slowly following and coming closer. Sailors lean farther and farther, some climbing onto the railing, holding on to the ropes as they watch, frozen in place.

The pieces come together in Vash's head. Sirens have fallen into legend, but they are still around, simply abiding by strict rules of secrecy. Nobody would suspect a fishing boat going missing after last night's storm. Vash rushes backwards, reaching for the bell hanging from the mast.

"Get away! Plug your ears!" he shouts as he grabs the rope of the bell, pulling it to fill the quiet air with ruckus. A few men snap out of it, reminded by the old legends about sirens. For some it is too late, two falling into the water.

"Plug your ears! Make as much noise as you can!" Vash calls out, still ringing the bell, and other voices join his. Shouting ensues on the boat; men start running over to their enchanted companions to pull them back; others find surfaces to bang against to drown out the sirens' voices. The uproar is in stark contrast to the calm waters and the gentle melody that was sung.

A few of the mermaids and mermen hiss as they realize they have been found out; others remain calm, continuing to sing the haunting melody. All of them swim closer. They reach out for the hull of the boat; they look completely human, except for the large dark shadows looming below the surface hinting at their true form.

"Don't let them get to you!" Vash commands as he grabs some rope, "Throw the nets! Prepare the canons!"

And the race begins. Merfolk swimming towards the ship at an alarming speed, ready to attack, more shadows just below the surface closing in on the boat. The men grab what they have, some preparing their guns, many going for the fishing nets. Chaos erupts as hands grab hold of the railing, merfolk heaving themselves over the edge.

"Come to me!" they command, and those close enough have no choice but to drop what they were doing and approach the creatures. The merfolk's hypnotic call is impossible to resist.

Vash fastens the rope to the men closest to him, connecting the other end to the mast, leaving them enough slack to move around. As he sees the men who are enchanted, he rushes over, pulling them back from the edge of the ship before they can jump in the water. The men's eyes are distant, and their faces show no emotion. Some throw the nets overboard, entangling the sirens in their trap.

"We have no ammo!" a voice calls out from the canons.

"Use what we do have!" Vash shouts back, and the crew starts to look around for what they can use instead of canon balls. They load the weapons with whatever they can find on the ship—nails, broken glass, and even spare chains—aiming at the direction of the enemy that is looking to devour them all.

Vash picks up a lantern and throws it towards the sirens, pulling out his loaded gun as he does. He aims and pulls the trigger, shattering the glass and raining down flaming oil over the merfolk that retreat below the surface. The oil continues to burn on top of the water while Vash hurriedly reloads. The sirens screech in anger, some resurfacing again closer to the boat, avoiding the fishing nets, and starting to claw at the wooden hull, pulling up to get closer to the crew to hiss their commands at them.

The nets are all in the water, the ropes are gone, and while a few men are still reloading the canons, the others huddle together towards the center of the small ship, backs against backs with their swords and guns drawn. They all try to make as much noise as they can, barking and shouting to drown out the voices of the creatures from the deep. A few have stuffed their ears with cloth or wax, but most have not have the time to do that.

The merfolk swarm the ship, their haunting calls echoing through the night. They appear over the edge of the railing; a few get shot, but most remain unharmed. They speak in many different voices, commanding the men to come closer, to approach, to drop their weapons, and to not be afraid. Some men begin to comply, their eyes glazed over with a strange enchantment as they step closer, while the others try to keep them from walking into death.

Vash doesn't feel the pull. The siren call does not entangle itself into his head, but despair grows within him as he looks around, the creatures appearing from every direction, their expressions hungry and malicious. Did he really make a grave mistake again? Has he lured even more people into a watery grave? His mind races with thoughts, trying to find a way to escape this nightmare.

Taking a mental health break so no update next week and we'll see from there.

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[azfellandco]

OOPS! All Goats!: azfellandco's Good Omens Mountain Goats Playlist (spotify link here)

This is a playlist that's all Mountain Goats songs that remind me of Good Omens, with explanations.

Rain In Soho (x): nothing sharper than a serpent's tooth / nothing harder than the gospel truth / though you repent and don sackcloth and try to make nice / you can't cross the same river twice

Soho, serpent's tooth, can't cross the same river... this song to me conjures up Crowley driving the Bentley through London at night.

Rat Queen (x): great warm throb of the undercity / at one with the purpose / i am a faceless nameless acolyte / here tonight at your service

Crowley & Crowley's Rat Army... Crowley is the rat queen. this song choice is so unserious but I love the use of the word "acolyte" in this song

Heretic Pride (x): well they come and pull me from my house / and they drag my body through the streets... transfiguration's gonna come for me at last / and i will burn hotter than the sun / i waited so long and now i taste jasmine on my tongue

I've been meaning to make a video or a gifset or something for Agnes Nutter using this song literally since before s1 came out. have i done it yet? no.

Heel Turn 2 (x): get stomped like a snake / lie down in the dirt / cling to my convictions / even when i get hurt... stay good under pressure / for years and years and years and years

Crowley song.

Stench of the Unburied (x): incoherent but functional / speeding like a dead comet... but when the blue lights flash / i know we're going to crash

A Crowley driving in the Bentley song.

Cry For Judas (x): some people crash two or three times / and then learn from their mistakes / but we are the ones who don't slow down at all / and there's nobody there to catch us when we fall

Also a Crowley driving in the Bentley song, with bonus biblical era trauma.

Insurance Fraud #2 (x): big plans, big plans, let me tell you something sister: you will never get away with it

This is on here because I will never get over how funny I find it that book!Aziraphale keeps getting investigated for possible tax fraud.

Mark On You (x): when this is over / when we leave it all behind us / deep in the moonless night / when the rescue team finds us / it's gonna get so dark for you / i'm gonna leave a mark on you

Crowley to Aziraphale.

Riches and Wonders (x): we live high, our loves gorges / on the alcohol we feed it / and it grows all fat and friendly / we have surplus if we need it

This is the Mountain Goats Good Omens song to me. Aziraphale and Crowley in the bookshop, their love for each other, and clinging to each other through the ages.

Mobile (x): and the plant grew but it withered / it shriveled up and turned brown / i'm on a balcony... waiting for the wind to throw me down / lord if you won't keep me safe and warm / then send down the storm, send down the storm

Loss of faith. Aziraphale song.

Elijah (x): set the table, those three extra places / one for me, one for your doubts, one for God

Aziraphale song.

Grendel's Mother (x): i look down on the world from the top of this lonesome hill / and you can run, run some more... but i will carry you home in my teeth

Aziraphale to Crowley.

Ending the Alphabet (x): we've got the brightest skylight / like a vision of heaven in the evening sky... and the late sunlight makes them all look like angels / what is there left in a city like this / when everyone you know is gone?

London, the bookshop, and the impossibility of permanence when you're a pair of immortals trying to make a home for each other.

Deuteronomy 2:10 (x): i have no fear of anyone, i'm dumb and wild and free / i am a flightless bird and they'll be no more after me

About extinct animals, titled after a biblical passage about an extinct race of people. This song has always resonated with that same impossibility of permanence and the contradiction between that and Aziraphale and Crowley's love for the world and being in it.

Never Quite Free (x): it's okay to find the faith to saunter forward / with no fear of shadows spreading where you stand

Saunter hehehe. But no this is about Crowley's trauma.

New Britain (x): i try to tell you secrets 'til my face turns blue / i am not getting through to you

Aziraphale and Crowley can't communicate openly.

So Desperate (x): we were parked in your car / in our neutral meeting place... i had things i'd been meaning to say

This goes with that passage in the book where, during the years they were observing Warlock, Aziraphale and Crowley met "on the tops of buses, in art galleries, and at concerts" to me. Them meeting covertly but this time they're parked in the Bentley somewhere and one of them just starts to cry. "Desperate" is an apt description of their reaching for each other after so many years of not being able to, to me.

In the Craters on the Moon (x): when the room fills with smoke / lie down on the floor / in the declining years / of the long war

The 6000 year long war, in fact. Crowley in the burning bookshop.

Have To Explode (x): the stage is set / someone's gonna do something someone else will regret / i speak in smoke signals and you answer in code / the fuse will have to run out sometime / something here will eventually have to explode, have to explode

Aziraphale and Crowley being unable to communicate openly, speaking in code, the anticipation of the apocalypse, and always, the knowledge that the coming end is inevitable. A song for those low moments when they feel it's pointless.

Training Montage (x): i'm doing this for revenge / i am doing this to try and stay true / i'm doing this for the ones they left to twist in the wind / i'm doing this for you

"twist in the wind" echoing back to "send down the storm" in the song Moblie. Aziraphale and Crowley wanting to save each other and save their shared world and the way that makes them brave.

Love, Love, Love (x): snakes in the grass beneath our feet / rain in the clouds above / some moments last forever / but some flare out with love, love, love

The other ultimate Mountain Goats Good Omens song. This is that first rain in Eden.

[crownmemes]

The Dead Zone Sentences, Vol. 7

(Sentences from The Dead Zone (2002-2007). Adjust phrasing where needed)

"They say that you can't love two people, but they're wrong."

"A wisp of knowledge can be an infinitely slippery slope."

"It's in my best interest to know a great many things."

"There's nothing I'm aware of that could do that to a human being in such a short period of time - at least, nothing anyone's supposed to know about."

"Your appreciation is neither expected nor required. Your commitment is all that I ask."

"There's a storm coming. The winds of change are howling, and when they strike, we will ascend from the rubble."

"Sometimes fate deals us a strange hand."

"How can you stand being here?"

"I've made some changes to your speech."

"I used to believe in what you stood for, but now I have some serious concerns."

"I haven't cried yet. Isn't that weird?"

"Yeah, I don't need a psychiatrist, okay?"

"Research shows that it's easier to open up when relaxed. It allows you to talk about what's really bothering you."

"Even love has a dark side."

"No matter how much you may feel like a grown-up, you're not. Not yet."

"You're working way too hard to piss me off. It makes me think you're hiding something."

"I confess, I don't get the appeal of this."

"Emotions have a habit of blinding a man to the truth."

"I'm not going to talk to you about an ongoing investigation!"

"You should take it easy. This is getting a little weird, even for you."

"You can't run cons for long without consequences."

"It must be tough trusting people when you can read their minds."

"You're quite the con man!"

"I only steal from the well-insured and the much deserving!"

"Does anyone know how sick you are?"

"There's enough evil here on Earth without all this Satan talk, if you ask me."

"Maybe you should tell me what's bothering you?"

"If there's one thing I've learnt, it's you can't run away from your own life."

"If I told you, you would have just tried to talk me out of it!"

"Is making me lose my concentration part of your strategy?"

"They lied to you, and they lied to me too."

[hillbillyoracle]

What To Do In Tornados

I’ve lived in tornado country pretty much my whole life and to be honest they still freak me out. I also remember how anxiety inducing it was when I first moved out and had to deal with them on my own. So like a message in a bottle to my former self, I wanted to compile what I’ve learned over the years in a skimmable format in case there’s anyone else out there today who could use it. 

Difference between a watch and a warning?

Tornado watch means you have time; think of a wrist watch. Tornado warning means one is incoming, no more time. This is the one I use to remember it.

Or if you prefer the Weather Channels very memeable explanation - tornado watch means you have taco (tornado) ingredients - picture a taco bar. Tornado warning means you have a fully assembled taco (tornado). This is what my partner uses. 

So there are possible tornados in the forecast: 

Make a plan about where you’ll go if you get a warning. It should be the most interior room in your house, well away from any windows. Here we have a walkout basement and I go to the most interior part of it. When I was in an apartment, the most interior room happened to be my bathroom and hallway. If you live in a dorm or other communal setting, they should have a plan in place so make sure to find out what it is.

Take pictures of your rooms and car in the event you need to file an insurance claim. Having pictures of what you own, it’s condition is helpful for filing insurance claims if you need to. Especially if you’re a renter. This is easiest to do when there’s no storms in your area so you aren’t nervous or pressed for time.

Make a power outage plan. A lot of the threat that comes with tornados is not from the tornados themselves but the damaging straight line winds around the tornado. Whenever there’s high winds, there’s a chance to lose power. Consider how you’d eat, drink, go to the bathroom, and stay warm in the event of a power outage. Less necessary but still helpful - consider how you’ll entertain yourself, especially if cell towers go down or you need to conserve your phone battery. Consider what chores - like laundry or dishes - would be good to have out of the way before hand. 

Grab snacks and food that doesn’t need refrigeration. If you’re able to make a grocery store run, grab some food you can eat that is shelf stable and doesn’t require cooking. A good rule of thumb in my experience is three days worth. Most power outages I’ve been through have been fixed in that time and you can more safely evacuate then if you need to go somewhere with power. If you’re like me and have a lot of food allergies (gluten, dairy, soy) - consider baking items ahead of time that can keep well at room temperature like cookies, scones, and breads. 

So you’ve been issued a Tornado Watch:

Check the forecast; you might have lots of time before the storms will be in your area or you might have very little.

Make a plan if you haven’t already. Or check your building’s plan if you live in a dorm or communal setting. 

Make sure everyone involved knows the plan. Don’t assume people you’re with know. I have made that mistake before. 

Charge your phone and electronics. If you don’t currently have a thunderstorm in your area, go ahead and charge your phone, power bank, flashlights, and anything else you’ll want to take with you your safe spot.

Gather supplies to take with you to your safe spot

Minimum: 

Shoes

Phone

Form of ID*

Leash/Harness/Cage for pets 

Explanation of minimum: 

Shoes are important because if you need to evacuate, there’s likely broken glass and other things on the floor that can injure you. If you can’t safely move through it, then people will have to come escort you out which means waiting longer + more risk. 

Phone is important for calling for help and receiving alerts. Also many can double as a flashlight in a pinch.

*ID is helpful accessing emergency housing and medical services if you have to leave your home. If your ID doesn’t list your residence or you don’t have/want to have ID documents on you for safety reasons, consider grabbing a copy of your lease or some mail addressed to you there. You can still access services without this, it just helps speed stuff up. 

Keeping pets on a leash or cage helps keep them safe in the event you need to evacuate with them. 

If you can:

Tote bag

Helmet

Flashlight

Power bank + cord

Weather radio

Water bottles

Some pet food + bowl

Snacks

I put all my supplies in a little tote bag. It’s my storm tote (conference bag I’m never gonna use for anything else).

Helmet is pretty self explanatory. One more way to keep your head safe in case anything falls on you. 

Flashlights help you move around your house if it’s safe to stay in if the power goes out. In the event your house is unsafe, it helps you safely evacuate. If you’re trapped, it helps you signal for help. 

Power bank + cord helps you recharge your phone if the power goes out. When you’re checking alerts and watching streams, the battery can deplete quickly. 

Weather radios of any kind is helpful. Cell service often goes out so the way you’ll get your information then will be primarily through radio. If you’re reading this not in a watch and want to get one, look for ones that will wake you up if there’s a warning in your area. Midland has several. I have a small Sony radio I take with me to my safe spot. 

Water bottles are helpful because they’re highly portable and in the unlikely event you get trapped in your house, you’ll have water to keep you hydrated while help gets to you. 

Pet food is so you can feed your animal without leaving your safe spot since warnings can last a long time. I’ve seen some areas be warned for 1-2 hours before if a storm is slow moving enough. But it’s also so you’ll have some food for them in the event you need to evacuate. 

Snacks are similar to pet food. It’s you food. Just helps you shelter in place. 

So you’ve been issued a Tornado Warning:

Put on your shoes

Put pets on harnesses and a leash or in a cage 

Go to your safe spot and don’t come out until the warning has expired

Especially if the warning is PDS or has some other enhanced tag, try to bring something to cover your head and body with - like a mattress. A thick blanket is better than nothing in a pinch.  

[tomorrowusa]

Hurricane Helene and Hurricane Milton have drawn additional attention to what a terrible governor Ron DeSantis is.

“Florida isn’t safe with DeSantis at the helm of our state government,” said Matthew Grocholske, 20, campaign strategy lead with the Orlando, Florida, chapter of the youth-led Sunrise Movement. [ ... ] Florida environmentalists say that DeSantis’s policies to boost fossil fuels, suppress carbon-free energy and ignore global heating have fueled the climate crisis that has exacerbated such hurricanes. [ ... ] Hurricanes – including Helene – are becoming more dangerous due to the climate crisis, caused primarily by the burning of fossil fuels. DeSantis’s policies have fueled that crisis with his policies and rhetoric, climate advocates say. “When it comes to our climate crisis, Ron DeSantis is easily the worst governor in Florida’s history,” said Delaney Reynolds, 25, a PhD student in climate resilience at the University of Miami and lead plaintiff in a 2018 youth-led climate lawsuit against the state government. DeSantis’s opposition to climate action began early in his career. One day after taking office in 2013, the then representative voted against a measure proposed after Hurricane Sandy to guarantee people could collect on federal flood insurance claims. During his 2018 run for governor, he pledged to protect Florida’s Everglades and waterways. But though he admitted that “human activity contributes to changes in the environment”, he also said: “I am not a global warming person.” More recently, he has gone further, slamming climate action as “woke”. There is ample evidence that warmer ocean temperatures fuel more powerful storms, and preliminary studies show Helene’s strength was made far more likely by global heating. Yetas Florida was battered by record-breaking rain this past June, DeSantis staunchly denied any potential link to the climate crisis. “This clearly is not unprecedented,” he said at a news conference at the time. “I think the difference is, you compare 50 to 100 years ago to now, there’s just a lot more that’s been developed, so there’s a lot more effects that this type of event can have.”

D'oh! Of course it's "unprecedented". That's what the climate crisis is all about. Weather keeps getting more extreme.

DeSantis is doing his best to destroy the state's response to climate change.

In August, DeSantis’s administration sparked outcry for its so-called Great Outdoors Initiative, which included plans to pave over thousands of acres at nine state parks and erect 350-room hotels, golf courses and pickleball courts. In May, the governor made headlines for signing legislation scrubbing most references to climate change from state law. The policy, which took effect on 1 July, restructured the state’s energy policy to nullify goals to boost wind and solar, instead focusing on hardening energy infrastructure against “natural and manmade threats”. [ ... ] During his run for president in the 2024 Republican primary, DeSantis also promised to ramp up domestic oil and gas production and fend off electric vehicle mandates, moves that climate experts warned would have boosted greenhouse gas emissions. His promises rhymed with his state policies. This past legislative session, DeSantis reportedly quietly helped craft a ban on wind energy infrastructure in Florida. And he also signed a far-reaching energy omnibus bill boosting the gas industry and increasing the barriers to purchasing electric vehicles. [ ... ] Last year, DeSantis turned down federal aid for energy efficiency, electrification and slashing carbon pollution. In 2022, he vetoed from the state budget a $5m allocation for a hurricane shelter in a north-east Florida town, and barred the state’s pension fund from making investment decisions that consider the climate crisis. The previous year, he adopted a bill banning Florida’s cities from adopting 100% clean energy goals. Such policies have exacerbated the climate crisis, which fuels hurricanes like Milton and Helene, Grocholske said. “The catastrophic level of this hurricane is directly due to the policies our state government is passing,” said Grocholske. “It’s clear that [DeSantis’s] administration has been one of the biggest threats to climate justice our state has faced in its history.”

Ron DeSantis is actively inviting the destruction of much of his own state.

DeSanctimonious is not on the ballot this year. But there are elections for the Florida legislature.

Florida State Legislature

Look up your legislative districts. If you live in ones represented by MAGA Republicans, contact your state or county Democratic Party to find out how you can help defeat them.

Find Your Legislators Look your legislators up by address or use your current location.

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

I asked chatgbt to make an image of Florida running out of homeowners insurance and flooded by a hurricane.

* * * *

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

September 27, 2024

Heather Cox Richardson

Sep 28, 2024

Last night, at about 11:10 local time, Hurricane Helene made landfall in the Big Bend area of Florida, where the state’s panhandle curves down toward the peninsula. It was classified as a Category 4 storm when it hit, bringing winds of 140 miles per hour (225 km per hour). The Saffir-Simpson Hurricane wind scale, developed in 1971 by civil engineer Herbert Saffir and meteorologist Robert Simpson, divides storms according to sustained wind intensity in an attempt to explain storms on a scale similar to the Richter scale for earthquakes. 

The Saffir-Simpson scale defines a Category 4 hurricane as one that brings catastrophic damage. According to the National Weather Service, which was established in 1870 to give notice of “the approach and force of storms,” and is now part of the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration (NOAA), a Category 4 hurricane has winds of 134–156 miles (209–251 km) per hour. “Well-built framed homes can sustain severe damage with loss of most of the roof structure and/or some exterior walls. Most trees will be snapped or uprooted and power poles downed. Fallen trees and power poles will isolate residential areas. Power outages will last weeks to possibly months. Most of the area will be uninhabitable for weeks or months.” 

Hurricane Helene hit with a 15-foot (4.6 meter) storm surge and left a path of destruction across Florida before moving up into Georgia, North Carolina, South Carolina, Tennessee, Virginia, and Kentucky with torrential rain, flash floods, high winds, and tornadoes. A record level of more than eleven inches of rain fell in Atlanta, Georgia. At least 45 people have died in the path of the storm, and more than 4.5 million homes and businesses across ten states are without power. The roads in western North Carolina are closed. Moody’s Analytics said it expects the storm to leave $15 to $26 billion in property damage.

Officials from NOAA, the scientific and regulatory agency that forecasts weather and monitors conditions in the oceans and skies, predict that record-warm ocean temperatures this year will produce more storms than usual. NOAA hurricane scientist Jeff Masters noted that Helene’s landfall “gives the U.S. a record eight Cat 4 or Cat 5 Atlantic hurricane landfalls in the past eight years (2017–2024), seven of them being continental U.S. landfalls. That’s as many Cat 4 and 5 landfalls as occurred in the prior 57 years.”

President Joe Biden approved emergency declarations for Alabama, Florida, Georgia, North Carolina, and South Carolina before Helene made landfall. Tennessee governor Bill Lee, a Republican, did not ask for such a declaration until this evening, instead proclaiming September 27 a “voluntary Day of Prayer and Fasting.” Observers pointed out that with people stuck on a hospital roof in the midst of catastrophic flooding in his state, maybe an emergency declaration would be more on point. 

After a state or a tribal government asks for federal help, an emergency declaration enables the federal government to provide funds to supplement local and state emergency efforts, as well as to deploy the Federal Emergency Management Agency (FEMA) to help save lives, protect property, and protect health and safety. Before Helene made landfall, the federal government placed personnel and resources across the region, ready to help with search and rescue, restore power, and provide food and water and emergency generators. 

The federal government sent 1,500 federal personnel to the region, as well as about 8,000 members of the U.S. Coast Guard and teams from the Army Corps of Engineers to provide emergency power. It provided two health and medical task forces to help local hospitals and critical care facilities, and sent in more than 2.7 million meals, 1.6 million liters of water, 50,000 tarps, 10,000 cots, 20,000 blankets, 70,000 gallons of diesel fuel, and 40,000 gallons of gasoline to provide supplies for those hit by the catastrophe. 

FEMA was created in 1979 after the National Governors Association asked President Jimmy Carter to centralize federal emergency management functions. That centralization recognized the need for coordination as people across the country responded to a disaster in any one part of it. When a devastating fire ripped through Portsmouth, New Hampshire, the day after Christmas in 1802, Congress agreed to send aid to the town, but volunteers organized by local and state governments and funded by wealthy community members provided most of the response and recovery efforts for the many disasters of the 1800s. 

When a deadly hurricane wiped out Galveston, Texas, in 1900, killing at least 6,000 residents and destroying most of the city’s buildings, the inept machine government proved unable to manage the donations pouring in from across the country to help survivors. Six years later, when an earthquake badly damaged San Francisco and ensuing fires from broken gas lines engulfed the city in flames, the interim fire chief—who took over when the fire chief was gravely injured—called in federal troops to patrol the streets and guard buildings. More than 4,000 Army troops also fed, sheltered, and clothed displaced city residents. 

When the Mississippi River flooded in 1927, sending up to 30 feet (9 meters) of  water across ten states, including Arkansas, Mississippi, and Louisiana, killing about 500 people and displacing hundreds of thousands more, President Calvin Coolidge appointed Commerce Secretary Herbert Hoover to coordinate the federal disaster response and pull together the many private-sector interests eager to help out under federal organization. This marked the first time the federal government took charge after a disaster. 

In 1950, Congress authorized federal response to disasters when it passed the Federal Disaster Assistance Program. In response to the many disasters of the 1960s—the 1964 Alaska Earthquake, Hurricane Betsy in 1965, and Hurricane Camille in 1969—the Department of Housing and Urban Development established a way to provide housing for disaster survivors. Congress provided guaranteed flood insurance to homeowners, and in 1970 it also authorized federal loans and federal funding for those affected by disasters. 

When he signed the Disaster Relief Act of 1970, Republican president Richard Nixon said: “I am pleased with this bill which responds to a vital need of the American people. The bill demonstrates that the Federal Government in cooperation with State and local authorities is capable of providing compassionate assistance to the innocent victims of natural disasters.”

Four years later, Congress established the process for a presidential disaster declaration. By then, more than 100 different federal departments and agencies had a role in responding to disasters, and the attempts of state, tribal, and local governments to interface with them created confusion. So the National Governors Association asked President Carter to streamline the process. In Executive Order 12127 he brought order to the system with the creation of FEMA.

In 2003, after the September 11, 2001, terrorist attacks on the U.S., the George W. Bush administration brought FEMA into its newly-created Department of Homeland Security, along with 21 other agencies, wrapping natural disasters together with terrorist attacks as matters of national security. After 2005’s Hurricane Katrina required the largest disaster response in U.S. history, FEMA’s inadequate response prompted a 2006 reform act that distinguished responding to natural disasters from responding to terrorist attacks. In 2018, another reform focused on funding for disaster mitigation before the crisis hits.  

The federal government’s efficient organization of responses to natural disasters illustrates that as citizens of a republic, we are part of a larger community that responds to our needs in times of crisis.

But that system is currently under attack. Project 2025, a playbook for the next Republican administration, authored by allies of the right-wing Heritage Foundation and closely associated with Republican presidential candidate Trump and vice presidential candidate Ohio senator J.D. Vance, calls for slashing FEMA’s budget and returning disaster responses to states and localities. 

Project 2025 also calls for dismantling the National Oceanographic and Atmospheric Administration and either eliminating its functions, sending them to other agencies, privatizing them, or putting them under the control of states and territories. It complains that NOAA, whose duties include issuing hurricane warnings, is “one of the main drivers of the climate change alarm industry and, as such, is harmful to future U.S. prosperity.” 

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

HEATHER COX RICHARDSON

[grimogretricks]

The real wreck of the Demeter- the Dmitri

I had assumed Bram Stoker had holidayed in Whitby and looked it up today and found that not only had he done so, but that the fate of the Demeter was based upon a real Russian ship, the Dmitri, which survived a storm but ran aground in Whitby in 1885.

From the Leeds Mercury newspaper 26th October 1885: 'SEVERE GALE . . . WHITBY. A storm of great violence visited the north-east coast on Saturday, accompanied by torrents of rain . . . About an hour after the stranding of the MARY AND AGNES, another vessel was sighted a few miles out flying signals of distress. The gale was then at its height, and the sea even more dangerous than before. Another lifeboat, the HARRIOTT PORTEATH, was got out. A little excitement prevailed among the thousands of people on shore, for it seemed certain that if the vessel was cast upon the rocks she would be immediately dashed to pieces and the crew drowned. The craft, however, steered straight for the port, and by good seamanship got into the harbour safely. She proved to be the Russian brigantine DMIRTY [sic].' 

From the North-Eastern Daily Gazette 26th October 1885:

'The Russian which succeeded in getting into Whitby harbour so gallantly on Saturday afternoon afterwards, unfortunately, ran into Colliers' Hope. Efforts were made to get her off, without success, but it was hoped that she would rise with the next tide, and the crew remained on board. Yesterday morning, however, the sea beat savagely against the vessel. Her masts gave way and fell with a crash over her side, and the vessel herself began to break up. She will be sold as a wreck. This morning the wind had gone down considerably, and the sea was much less heavy.' "

From the Northern Echo 27th October 1885:

"'Yesterday, at Whitby, the storm had considerably abated, there being little wind and a comparatively smooth sea. The Russian vessel DIMITRI, which so gallantly entered the harbour on Saturday in spite of the terrible sea afterwards ran ashore in Collier's Hope. It was supposed that she would be safe here, but on the rise of the tide yesterday morning, the seas beat over her with great force. Her masts fell with a terrific crash, and the crew were obliged to abandon her. She is now a complete wreck. The vessel was bound from Antwerp to Newcastle, with silver sand as ballast. She was not insured."

From the Whitby Gazette 31st October(!) 1885, recounting the whole story:

"A little later in the afternoon a schooner was descried to the south of the harbour, outside the rocks. Her position was one of great danger; for being evidently unable to beat off, there seemed nothing for it but to be driven among the huge breakers on the scar. Her commander was apparently a man well acquainted with his profession, for with consummate skill he steered his trim little craft before the wind, crossing the rocks by what is known as the ‘sledway’ and bringing her in a good position for the harbour mouth. 'The piers and the cliffs were thronged with expectant people, and the lifeboat ‘HARRIOT FORTEATH’ was got ready for use in case the craft should miss the entrance to the harbour and be driven on shore. When a few hundred yards from the piers she was knocked about considerably by the heavy seas, but on crossing the bar the sea calmed a little and she sailed into smooth water. A cheer broke from the spectators on the pier when they saw her in safety. 'Two pilots were in waiting, and at once gave instruction to those on board, but meanwhile the captain not realising the necessity of keeping on her steerage, allowed her to fall off and lowered sail, thus causing the vessel to swing towards the sand on the east side of the harbour. On seeing this danger the anchor was dropped, but they found no hold and she drifted into Collier’s Hope and struck the ground. She purported to be the schooner ’DMITRY’ of Narva, Russia, Captain Sikki, with a crew of seven hands, ballasted with silver sand. During the night of Saturday the men worked incessantly upon her that her masts went by the board and on Sunday morning, she lay high and dry a broken and complete wreck, firmly embedded in the sand.' "

So here we have the ship here, making its way safe to the harbour in a difficult storm, only to still be wrecked upon the following day upon the sands.

There was a suggestion in the Guardian newspaper that the story had even been told at Whitby of a black dog being seen leaping from the ship and running up to the churchyard!

I thought it was interesting seeing how they reported on the real incident, and to imagine that the people of Whitby would have recognised the ship and its fate from the description. Thankfully, from what I can see nobody seems to have died in the real wreck of the Dmitri.

I found the information here: