No Stupid Questions

so for your questions:

A: yes, you should have enough air pressure to leave orbit in a plane, which is great to flee the planet because the new solar atmosphere will immediately plunge earth into an ice age for a few years as it first blocks most of fhe solar radiation, and then gradually heats up. the solar atmosphere wind dynamics will also fuck you up in a way that the dying Earth's scientific computing will struggle to help with, especially when all satellites burn up in air and fall to the surface

B: (1 AU / the speed of sound) = 5000 days. the distant, ominous howl of a vengeful sun will be the least of your concerns as the nations of earth turn violent in a desperate attempt to save some last trace of human civilization

C: a megacyclone, yes! a beautiful spiral as each planet sweeps up the protoplanetary gases to swell to gas-giant size or dwarf star status. perhaps some day the light of five suns may shine on Earth again, but all traces of what once was will be sunk under five thousand kilometers of a liquid nitrogen sea. in one possible delusion, the billion-year descendants of the last earthlings will live in orbit of a still-molten rock so far past the kuiper belt that the five stars of Sol look like a bright-hot constellation instead of the core of its orbit

D: at some point, yes! for a brief moment the pressure will be unchanged as the solar atmosphere orbits the sun instead of pressing on the earth. perhaps some would be wise enough to realize that the sudden dimming of the sun - eight minutes as it turns to a dull, occluded, sky-colored haze, as if it had just melted away - foretold an imminent disaster. those bright minds would struggle to be heard amid a hundred other apocalyptic visions, because who would believe the sudden, impossible appearance of so much mass? but maybe some would have the sway and the speed to take their calculations to an appropriately powerful spaceplane, or a convenient tanker aircraft, and set off before the earth's mass doubles in a year, then doubles again, like a snowball of oxygen rolling around in the deepening winter.