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#new construction miami
joanshomesmiami · 1 year
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🤩 Super excited to announce the launch of our exclusive 'Airbnb Friendly' Townhome project located in Hollywood Florida, with my partner Josh!🥂 Artist Townhouses is an incredible investment opportunity, with estimated returns of up to 15% in the first year.*
 Artist Townhouses 8 luxury split-level townhouses 🏡 3 bedrooms | 2.5 bathrooms 1,600 sf interior with private enclosed garage, outdoor space and terraces Starting at $899,000 The townhouses come fully finished with modern Italian cabinetry, quartz waterfall countertops, frameless glass enclosures in bathrooms, porcelain flooring. Ideally situated in Hollywood, Artist Townhouses is located just minutes away from the Fort Lauderdale International Airport, I-95, the Beach, The Broadwalk, Artist Circle, nightlife, restaurants and artwork pavilion.  
 The construction is underway and the project will be completed in 2024. For more information, please send me a direct message. * Estimated returns are based on current market conditions and may vary. 📍 Hollywood, FL
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sayruq · 6 months
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All these time we've been wondering what Joe Jonas was trying to get ahead of, like maybe infidelity (still possible) but now I feel like he's been trying to muddy the waters timeline wise
According to his people (those TMZ and Page 6 articles slandering Sophie), they began having problems in December, they separated soon after and Joe had the girls for 6 months.
But according to the lawsuit Sophie filed
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Joe only had the children for a few months, they were looking houses in England (they had sold the Miami house last month which makes Sophie's claim stronger), and the two of them had agreed to return the kids to Sophie this week except Joe has kept their passport and refuses to hand over the kids (hence why Sophie's lawyers are using the International Child Abduction Law).
We don't know how long Joe has been planning this, likely mid August given how sloppy his pr team was. He probably met with his team to construct a new timeline of the marriage problems (sort of like the way he made people believe they started dating when Sophie was 21) with a heavy emphasis on Sophie being 'unfit' to raise the kids even though she's been the primary caretaker.
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roseserpentpress · 11 months
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Newest fanbind! This time white pony, a Trigun vashwood vampire western au fic by @phaltu. Was absolutely thrilled to be able to chat with them while assembling and putting together the design for the fic. I drew the spooked carousel horse myself for the title page, and ended up using it for a few other designs as well. A fun little design tidbit is that the paragraph separators are stylized 'vampire bites'; and to signify the end of the fic I did a vampire bite with a drop of blood coming from it, to match the stylized one on the carousel horse.
As always there's a few nitpicks I have with the book's construction, including the covers ending up a bit warped and the end bands being a bit shabby, but this is the first time a book is so thin, so it's expected to have a few things not go my way.
Below the read more is the fic summary and link, and a video of me handling the book.
white pony (M, 10k)
Nicholas Wolfwood is a man of infallible faith, according to his own words.
He is a man of the cloth, a man of virtue, a man whose darkened gaze and roguish looks have entrapped a congregation sizable for a backwater town just south of New Miami, a beacon of light in the one place on Gunsmoke where the sun never rises. The glitz and the neon of the city refuse to spill over to the place Wolfwood calls home, which works all the well, because it seems to need no help in attracting other strange things into town.
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dostoyevsky-official · 6 months
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new york city is not appreciably sinking in a way that matters and it won't be specifically damaged by climate change in a way like miami because of a different climate and coastal features that allow for coastal defense projects, of which half are already under construction. infrastructure projects can be done that alleviate flooding. the city will not be destroyed in our lifetime. calm down
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saywhat-politics · 9 months
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Miami — A controversial Florida law which took effect Saturday no longer recognizes driver's licenses issued to undocumented immigrants from other states, among other restrictions.
It is part of a sweeping immigration bill signed by Republican Florida governor and presidential candidate Ron DeSantis back in May that is prompting many to leave the state.
The run-up to the new law has sparked protests by immigrant workers, from those in the tourism and hospitality industry, to those who work in agricultural fields.
"We are hearing people are starting to leave," Yvette Cruz with the Farmworkers Association of Florida told CBS News of reports of migrant workers abandoning fields and construction projects. "We're just gonna keep seeing that more as the law will take effect."
The law also includes harsh penalties for those who try and hire or transport undocumented migrants, which critics say can include family members.
It also requires hospitals that receive Medicaid funds to ask for a patient's immigration status.
DeSantis claims the legislation is needed due to what he considers the Biden's administration's failure to secure the border.
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cariantha · 1 year
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Accidental Valentine
Book: Open Heart, Book 1
Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr. Sawyer Brooks)
Rating: Teen
Warning: A little bit of sexual innuendo
Category: Fluff
Word count: 4K
Summary: It’s Valentine’s Day and Ethan and Sawyer get “stuck” spending the evening together.
A/N: This takes place after Miami but before the opera. Inspiration drawn from an episode of Grey's Anatomy, 🎶I Wanna Remember, 🎶My Body, and 🎶If Our Love is Wrong.
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February 14, 2023
4:30 p.m.
Ethan guided Sawyer through the dimly lit maze of construction materials in the new wing. Instinctively, his hand hovered just inches from her lower back. In the eerily quiet section of the hospital their pagers buzzed simultaneously. The unexpected noise startled Sawyer causing her to stumble as she stepped over a bundle of cables.
“Whoops!” 
“Are you–”
She felt the warmth of his palm as she found her footing and awkwardly laughed off the mishap. “I’m good.” 
Checking his pager, Ethan read the new notification and groaned. “And so it begins.”  
For the past two days, the National Weather Service warned of severe blizzard conditions. Local news stations ran stories showing empty grocery store shelves as Boston residents took precautions to shelter in place. Chief Emery reviewed emergency protocols and prepared hospital staff for the influx in the emergency department.
Offering his hand to help her step over the next hazard, Ethan cautioned, “Careful… watch your step. The page was for more doctors in the E.R., not patients.”
Sawyer took his hand but not before giving him a gentle side-punch for his jab about her clumsiness.  
Minutes later they waited for the elevator to arrive, and ever the gentleman, Ethan gestured for Sawyer to enter first as the steel doors slowly slid open. “After you.”
Once Ethan was safely across the threshold, Sawyer pushed the button for the first floor. Rolling back and forth on her heels, she waited for the digital number above the door to change. 
Ethan stood against the side wall, a small smile forming at the corner of his mouth as he admired her profile. 
“What?” she asked, feeling the burn of his gaze as she watched the floor number change from five to four.
“Nothing,” he answered, shifting his eyes to where her attention was still focused. 
Before the number changed to three, the elevator jerked violently coming to a sudden stop. The jolt caused them both to stumble backward a step or two. 
“Whoa!” Sawyer yelped, trying to keep her balance.
Ethan tried to reach for her but lost sight in the now pitch black box. “Are you alright?” he called out.
“Yeah. You?”
“Fine.”
Sawyer pulled out her phone to illuminate the small space helping Ethan locate the emergency call button.  
“It’s not working. The storm must have knocked out the power. The generators should kick on shortly. Do you have any service?” he asked, pulling out his own phone to check.
“No, I don’t have any bars.”
The emergency light above them finally buzzed to life, the soft glow just enough for them to make out each other’s faces. 
Ethan backed up to the wall and supported himself on the handrail. “I guess there’s not much else to do but wait it out.” 
5:30 p.m.
They had talked easily, not realizing how much time passed until Sawyer checked her phone.
“Ethan, it’s been an hour. Shouldn’t the generators have kicked on by now?”
“Yeah, they should have.”
Concern etched across his face as he thought about the patients who might be in danger, particularly Naveen. But before he could share those concerns, they were interrupted by some banging and a distant muffled voice.
“Hello? Can anyone hear me? Anyone there?”
“We can hear you!” Ethan responded with his deep booming voice. 
“This is Richard from Maintenance. Are you okay?”
“Yes, we’re fine.”
“Ethan? Ethan, is that you? It’s Harper. Who else is with you?”
“Yes. Dr. Brooks is here also. Why haven’t the generators kicked on yet?” he shouted back.
“They have. But the computer system controlling the elevators crashed. We haven’t been able to reboot it. We’ve called for a technician but the storm is making travel impossible right now,” Harper explained. 
Ethan shared a look with Sawyer.
“Make yourselves comfortable. It’s gonna be a while,” Richard hollered down. 
Sawyer sighed as she moved to sit on the floor, “Well, you heard him.”   
6:00 p.m.
Ethan had finally joined her on the floor, propped up against the opposite wall. 
“Okay, lightning round.”
Scrunching his face in confusion, “Pardon?” 
“I’m going to ask you five random questions and you can’t think. Just answer with the first thing that comes to mind. Are you ready?”
“Uh…”
“I said no thinking!” she pointed and laughed.
“Fine, go ahead,” he reluctantly consented. “Hopefully these will be better than the ones you asked when we tested the fMRI.”
“Let’s find out. First celebrity crush?”
Without missing a beat, “Jennifer Love Hewitt.”
Sawyer nodded in quiet approval. “And if you had the chance to hook up with her tonight, would you?”
Ethan squinted looking into her eyes. “No,” he stated confidently.
“Okay, hmm… What’s your favorite carb: bread, pasta, rice, or potatoes?”
“Pasta.” 
“When people stand up for a standing ovation, are you usually one of the earlier people to stand up or one of the later?”
“I rarely stand at all.”
“Yeah, that’s on brand,” she laughed thinking of what to ask next. “Say something cool.”
“That’s not a question.”
Sawyer rolled her eyes then her hand to encourage him to answer anyway.
“Pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis.”
Shaking her head with a giggle, “You’re such a nerd.”
Ethan shrugged. “Is it my turn now?”
“That was only four questions. I get one more.” 
“It was five… celebrity crush… if I’d hook up–”
“The hook-up question was merely a follow-up. It wasn’t an official question,” she argued with a smile. “Last one. Favorite type of muffin?”
He tilted his head slightly and raised his eyebrow with a questioning glare.
“What’s that look for?” she genuinely wondered until it suddenly dawned on her. “Oh my god! Stop! I wasn’t trying to bait you. It was an innocent question. When I stopped at Derry’s the other day, I thought it would be a nice treat for you and Naveen, but I didn’t know what flavors you liked.”
“Riiiiight.”
“It’s true!” she insisted, kicking his foot. “And given how quick your mind went there, I guess I have my answer.”
As their laughter died down, Ethan jutted out his chin to start his line of questioning. “If you had to choose another specialty, what would it be?” 
“Borrrrring,” she faked a yawn. “Is that really the best you’ve got?”
“What? It will tell me a lot about you. Especially if you say something absurd like ‘surgery.’”
“Emergency medicine.”
He pursed his lips together and nodded. “I can see that. Okay, um…what book are you reading at the moment?”
“Yours.” 
Ethan rolled his eyes.
“I’m serious. After the Platt case I wanted to read the Rethinking Symptoms chapter again. Remember that case? The horrible PITA you assigned me a while back.”
“I remember,” he quietly acknowledged, a twinge of guilt knotting his stomach. His only intention was to challenge her. Had he known just how abusive Platt had been to her and the nursing staff, he would have intervened much earlier. 
Sensing he got lost in thought, Sawyer urged him on. “Next question?”
“Hrm… What’s the most reckless thing you’ve ever done?” 
She looked down for a moment and bit her lower lip before hesitantly reconnecting with his curious eyes. “I made out with my boss on a work trip.” 
It was a half-truth. She couldn’t speak the whole truth. Because the truth was, allowing herself to fall for him was the most reckless thing she’d ever done.
And if Ethan was asked the same question, it wouldn’t be a prank from medical school, or a drunken one night stand, or even Patient X. It would be that he fell for his intern.
As the air thickened in the confined space, Ethan decided it was best to put an end to the game.
“Alright, I think that’s enough speed dating fun,” he concluded trying to keep his tone light.
“Wait, if that was speed dating, then I have to know… would you have wanted to see me again?”
“Probably not.”
Offended Sawyer threw her hands into the air, “WHAT?! Why not?” 
“Because my first impression of you would have been an ass-kissing, E.R. adrenaline junkie, with questionable morals. Need I say more?” he teased with a rare full smile. 
“Well, for what it’s worth, I would have wanted to see you again.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. You would have had me at ‘pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis.’ That was hot,” she winked.
7:00 p.m.
GRRRRRRRRRR.
“Hungry?” he asked.
Embarrassed, Sawyer clutched her stomach with her hands, “You have no idea what I’d give for a cheeseburger and fries right now.” 
“When was the last time you ate today?”
“I shared a late breakfast with Naveen.”
Ethan shook his head silently admonishing her as he shoved his hand into his coat pocket. He could hardly lecture her though. He was about to hand her the silver-wrapped candy bar that he purchased from the vending machine in lieu of taking his own lunch break earlier. “Here,” he politely offered.
Taking advantage of the opportunity, she moved to sit at his side, thanking him for the sugary sustenance. As she started to peel back the wrapper there was another rumbling sound. But this time it didn’t come from Sawyer’s stomach. Snapping the candy bar down the middle, she offered Ethan the other half. “Here, we'll share.”
With a shake of his head, “It’s fine, Rookie. You go ahead.”
“I insist,” holding it in front of him until he finally took it from her. 
Sawyer took a big bite from the corner of her mouth. She moaned softly, leaning her head back against the wall as she savored the chocolate-coated pillowy goodness. “Mmm.”
It was a sweet, familiar and arousing sound that transported Ethan to a night not that long ago. A night when conversation flowed as easily as the gentle sea breeze. When mouths not only tasted the salt in the air, but the salt on each other’s skin. And when her hips rolled against his, like waves lapping the shore.
Noticing he was lost in a daze, Sawyer gently steered him back to the present. “Hey, everything okay?” she asked softly. 
“Hmm?” Registering her voice, he shook the fog from his head, “Uh, yeah. Just remembering something.”
8:00 p.m.
Ethan checked the time on his watch and sighed.
Curiosity got the best of her, wondering if he was late for something. “Did you have any plans tonight?”
“As a matter of fact, I did,” he confessed. “A quiet night in with takeout, a movie, and the promise of interesting conversation.” It was subtle but he caught how she lowered her head to pick lint from her pants, masking what seemed like disappointment. 
“I feel sorry for your date…” she muttered.
The insult caught him off guard. “Excuse me?”
She slapped her hand over her mouth and then clarified, “Oh god, sorry. I didn’t mean it like that! I just meant that they are getting stood up on Valentine’s Day. That sucks. I think the only thing worse than that is getting left at the altar.”
“I’m not worried about it. When Naveen finds out I spent the evening with you instead, I think he’ll be quick to forgive me,” he winked. It wasn’t a secret that Naveen picked up on their chemistry and attempted to play matchmaker often, much to Ethan’s chagrin. 
This time as punishment for his teasing Sawyer shoulder-bumped him while mentally breathing a sigh of relief.  
“What about you? Surely you had plans tonight.” Ethan was well aware of the fact that Sawyer had many admirers at work. There was a high probability that one of them would have extended an invitation to her for the evening, especially the cocksure Dr. Lahela. Ethan noticed how the Malibu Ken doll hung to her every word, and even worse, held on with his self-proclaimed “magic” hands. It appeared to Ethan that the scalpel jockey was incapable of having a conversation without having an arm around her waist, fingers massaging her neck, or hands rubbing her shoulders. And in the last couple weeks, it irked him more and more.  
“Nothing concrete. I was keeping my options open.” With a slight blush pinking up her cheeks, “I know it’s silly but I was really hoping this cute boy from work was going to ask me to be his valentine today.”
Ethan met her eyes in a challenge. “Is that so?” 
Not backing down she looked him dead in the eye. “Yeah, but I don’t think he will. Even though he likes me too.”
“Maybe it’s just bad timing,” Ethan regretfully looked down at his hands. 
“That’s a possibility. But one of the nurses did tell me that Justin also likes Miley, the peds transfer from MK. Apparently he can’t make up his mind which of us he likes more and doesn’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings.” Sawyer laughed and tapped his foot with hers to lighten the mood, as a small smile formed on his lips. “I mean, Miley’s really cute, but c’mon,” she lifted her hand up and down gesturing to herself, “I’m the full package.” 
“No argument there,” he agreed, tapping his foot to hers this time.  
8:30 p.m.
Bored, Sawyer stood and stretched in front of the bulletin board. She scanned the flyers advertising rooms for rent and used cars for sale, as well as outdated posters promoting health and wellness. She snorted when she lifted a couple layers to find the “What to do in case of emergency” instructions buried underneath it all. Removing a few of the flyers, she returned to her spot on the floor.
“What are you doing?” he inquired.
“Arts and crafts. Want to join me?” she chuckled expecting him to pass.   
“Sure. Hand me a couple of those flyers.”
“Really?”
“I’ll have you know I’m pretty good at origami.”
“Of course you are,” she rolled her eyes. 
As Ethan got to work folding and twisting a piece of paper, Sawyer carefully creased a couple lines into hers. Having torn off one of the edges to make a perfect square, she continued folding and creasing, then folded each corner toward the center of the page, repeating the process until she had achieved the right shape and size. 
She leaned across Ethan snagging the pen from his chest pocket, “Can I steal this?”
In that split second, Ethan’s senses were overwhelmed. Her hand on his thigh as she reached across with the other. The hints of coconut and tropical flowers that tickled his nose. The closeness of her body against his. He cleared his throat, “It appears that you already have.” 
Already back to work on her project, Sawyer wrote numbers on one side and colors on the other. After carefully pinching the paper to change its shape, she pulled four flaps up and wrote a random phrase on each one. Finished, she excitedly showcased her final product, “Ta-da!” 
“What is it?” he glanced up momentarily from his own craft.  
“A paper fortune teller.” She positioned her fingers to push and pull the points of her device and asked the first question. “Will we ever get out of this elevator?”
Her fingers moved the paper contraption back and forth as she spelled and counted out loud. “B-L-U-E. One… two… three… four.” Peeling back the tab over the number four, she read the fortune. “‘Outlook not good.’ Grrrrrreat.” 
“Geez, I didn’t realize being in my company was so horrible,” he inserted, still concentrating hard on his art project.  
“It’s the worst,” she said, dramatically rolling her eyes and feigning annoyance. “Ask a question. You can keep it to yourself if you want.” 
“Uhhh…” he thought for a moment, working on the final touches of his origami. “Did I make the right decision in Miami?” he asked himself. “Okay, I’ve got one.”
“Pick a color,” she instructed, showing him the options. 
“Green.” For the color of her eyes he decided.
“G-R-E-E-N. Now pick a number between one and eight.”
“One.” Because she was the number one intern, his number one pick for the program, and the first person he thought of when he woke up these last few weeks. 
Sawyer peeled back the tab. “Reply hazy. Try again later.” She heard Ethan’s unsatisfied snort. “Not the answer you were hoping for?” 
“Not quite.”
Sawyer assumed his question was about finding a cure for Naveen and offered him a sympathetic smile. Noticing that his hands were now still in his lap, she pointed to them. “Let’s see your masterpiece.”
Ethan presented a nearly perfect paper rose complete with stem and leaves. “For you.”
Surprised and flattered, Sawyer accepted the sweet gesture. “Wow,” admiring the level of detail as she twirled the delicate flower in her hand. Then looking into his waiting eyes, she held the paper blossom to her chin, “Thank you.” 
9:30 p.m. 
Ethan circled his ankle and bent his knee up and down a few times trying to improve the circulation in his leg.  
“Leg falling asleep?”
“Yes.”
An idea forming in her head, Sawyer unlocked her phone and opened her music app. Scrolling through her favorite playlist, she found a befitting tune and pressed play. Rising to her feet, she extended her hand to Ethan. “May I have this dance?”
Ethan stared at her hand considering, then met her eyes. 
“C’mon,” she reached down to take both his hands and helped pull him to his feet. “We need to stretch our legs. And honestly if I don’t move around I might pee my pants.”
“Well, we don’t want that.” Still holding her hands, he raised his left hand and folded his fingers around hers. He guided her other hand to his shoulder and placed his right hand on her waist.
They began to sway back and forth making circles in the small space of the elevator car. At first they avoided eye contact. But as the words of the song sunk in, their eyes met more frequently until they were finally locked on one another.  
I wanna memorize you, wanna stay here forever 'Cause I-I-I, I-I-I I take a picture in my mind so we're always together 'Cause I-I-I, I-I-I wanna remember
When the song ended, Sawyer was the one who broke the trance. She was just about to pull away when Ethan spoke. 
“One more?”
The corners of her lips lifted into a radiant smile. “Okay. Let me find another song.”
“I rather liked the last one.”
After hitting the replay button and returning the phone to her pocket, Ethan took her hand again. As the intro music played, he slid his other hand around to her back pulling her body close until there was no space between them. Her arm wrapped around his waist. The side of her face rested in the crook of his neck.
This feels like One of those moments moving by so fast You wanna do something just to make it last You wanna do something to remember Breathe it in The feel of your body on my fingertips The moonlight on fire and the clothes we're in We gotta do something to remember We don't wanna forget it
As they rocked side to side in each other’s arms, Sawyer could see their reflection in the stainless steel walls. His chin rested on the top of her head literally breathing her in as the lyrics suggested. 
The song ended and Ethan placed a quick peck on the top of Sawyer’s head. Ever-so-soft, she wouldn’t have even noticed had she not still been looking at their reflection. When they finally pulled away, Ethan brought her hand to his lips. “Thank you for the dance.”
11:00 p.m.
Tired and cold, Sawyer sat by Ethan’s side using his shoulder as a pillow. He encouraged her to try and get some sleep, but the cold steel against her back and dropping temperature in the elevator made it difficult. 
When she hugged herself to help control the shivers, Ethan nudged her to sit up and removed his lab coat. “Come here,” he patted the floor in front of him. 
She did as she was told, nestling herself in between his legs as Ethan draped his coat over her like a blanket. Pulling it up just barely over her mouth, Sawyer breathed in the familiar and intoxicating scent.
With a hand on her shoulder, Ethan guided her back against his chest. Framing her sides with his bent knees, he transferred his warmth and Sawyer melted into him.
Ethan leaned his head against the wall and took long slow breaths. His mind and body were engaged in conflict. He summoned all his strength to resist temptation and tamp down the twitch in his pants. As his head said “no,” his body urged him to lean down and nibble her earlobe. Massage her pulse point with his tongue. Slip his hand down her shirt to know whether her heart still beats as it did in Miami.  
As they laid there quietly for a few minutes, an occasional shiver still coursed through Sawyer even though the cold no longer affected her. She felt Ethan take a deep breath, her own body moving with the rise and fall of his chest. “What are you thinking about?” she asked softly.
He wanted to tell her. He wanted to give her the honesty she asked for that day in the lab. He took a moment to think of how he wanted to phrase it, and when he was ready, he leaned down and half-whispered next to her ear. 
“Stavo pensando che mi fai sentire qualcosa che non ho mai provato prima. So di aver detto che questa cosa tra noi è sbagliata e non dovremmo. E per la prima volta nella mia vita... non voglio avere ragione. Perché voglio che tu sia mio.” 
Sawyer didn’t understand anything he said, but she felt the meaning deep in her bones. Turning her head and shifting her body, she looked him in the eyes. There was longing and desire, and she watched how they slowly drifted down to her lips. She leaned in ever so slightly and Ethan pushed forward the rest of the way capturing her mouth. His hands held the sides of her head as he kissed her over and over. As her lips parted, he lightly introduced the tip of his tongue, moving deeper as she opened to him further. They continued to take each other’s breath away until at last the need for air had him closing the kiss with a soft peck. 
Needing to slow the pace before things went too far, Ethan rested his forehead against hers and begged, “Tell me something. Anything.” 
Sawyer caressed his face as a beautiful smile spread across hers. “This has been the best Valentine’s date ever.”
He leaned back a bit, raising his eyebrow in disbelief. 
“I mean it. Great conversation and lots of fun. You gave me chocolate and flowers. We danced. You spoke sweet nothings in Italian. At least that’s what I heard… you could have said I had amateur scalpel technique for all I know… but it was still romantic. And that kiss,” she sighed softly. “I’ve never been one for traditional Valentine’s Day gestures, but you may have convinced me otherwise, because tonight was perfect.”
Ethan was just about to say something when the elevator jerked back to life. 
They both stood dusting off their backsides and straightening their clothes when Ethan tried to speak again. “Sawyer?”
She already knew how this was going to end. “You don’t have to say it, Ethan. I know where things stand when these doors open.”
He nodded sadly. “Right. But I was also going to say, ‘Happy Valentine’s Day.’”
“Oh,” she said, surprised. 
The chime indicated the elevator finally reached the first floor. “Ethan?” Sawyer stepped out into the hall and turned around to face him. Smiling affectionately, she held the paper rose close to her heart, “Thank you for a lovely time tonight.”
A/N: Here’s what Ethan said in Italian: “I was thinking that you make me feel something I never have before. I know I’ve said this thing between us is wrong and we shouldn’t. And for the first time in my life… I don’t want to be right. Because I want you to be mine.”
Tag List: @choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics @potionsprefect @jamespotterthefirst @annfg8 @peonierose @socalwriterbee @tessa-liam @jerzwriter @quixoticdreamer16 @mysticalgalaxysstuff @inlocusmads @txemrn @trappedinfanfiction @mvalentine @takemyopenheart @ofmischiefandmedicine @openheartforeverinmyheart @doriopenheart @coffeeheartaddict2 @genevievemd @starrystarrytrouble @hopelessromantic1352 @kyra75
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orcinus-veterinarius · 10 months
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Do you believe that SeaWorld Orlando should get involved in the situation with Tokitae?
Oof... this is a... loaded question.
Should they get involved? From my outsider's perspective, I would answer with a hestitant yes. While the least stressful situation for Toki would be to build her a new, superior habitat on the grounds of the Seaquarium, I no longer think that's a viable option. The city of Miami has denied permits for a new tank in the past, although the current mayor touts herself as deeply invested in Toki's wellbeing, so maybe things would be different this time. However, the condition of the Whale Bowl is rapidly deteriorating. Based off what I've heard from current MSQ employees, the Dolphin Company hasn't addressed any of the issues that lead to the USDA condemning the tank last year, and it's kind of falling apart. With hurricane season having started up, there's real concern that the structure won't survive a direct hit. And even if it's decided today that MSQ will build her a new habitat onsite, it'll be months before construction is complete. The Whale Bowl honestly may not have that long.
Which brings us back to SeaWorld. Orlando is about four hours north of Miami. While still undeniably stressful, transporting Toki there would be a shorter and infinitely less complicated trip than getting her to the Puget Sound. The design of SeaWorld's current killer whale habitat would allow Toki to be separated from their resident pod of 5—probably permanently, but at the very least until it's determined it's safe and healthy for them to interact. Toki would likely move into "Orca Underwater Viewing" (circled in white), the second largest individual pool, which can be closed off from the rest of the habitat. This was actually already done a few years back, when the pool was used to house several recuperating pilot whales. While it may appear small from this aerial image, it's significantly larger and deeper than the Whale Bowl (when I visited in 2022, I was actually unable to see the whales from the viewing window when they swam to the far side of the habitat) and is equipped with rockwork, which would provide an undeniable upgrade in Toki's quality of living while allowing her to remain in cold, clean, pollutant-free water with access to the very best in managed cetacean husbandry and veterinary care.
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This may sound almost perfect, but there are a few very real issues to be addressed. Most likely, SeaWorld's current pod would lose access to this pool until Toki either passes away or is transferred out—either to the fabled sea pen or a newly constructed habitat at the Seaquarium—limiting them to the show habitat and three larger back pools (the third is covered by the white roof). Additionally, underwater viewing is the only pool with rockwork, and it would be rather unfair to take that away from them. And while the risk is low, there's still a chance Toki could spread illness to the resident pod, or vice versa.
Then there's the financial perspective. Dine With Orcas is hosted in this habitat, and SeaWorld would have to discontinue that program for the foreseeable future if Toki moves in. Depending on public display permitting, they may also have to close the underwater viewing windows. This could lead to a lot of disgruntled park visitors, something upper managment doesn't want. And of course, there's the ever precaricous issue of public perception. SeaWorld has only recently recovered from the financial woes inflicted on it by Blackfish, and with the Tokitae drama very much in the public eye, her transferring there would undoubtedly be spun by animal rights groups as SeaWorld villainously snatching her from the precipice of freedom for their own greedy gains (even if the oppostie is true... they would be losing revenue due to program cancellation).
Ultimately, the decision lies with NOAA. They are the only ones with the authority to authorize a transfer, or to remove a cetacean from a facility should they deem it unfit. For Toki herself, I believe SeaWorld to be her best reasonable option. But I also understand why SeaWorld managment would be hesitant to take her in, both for the welfare of their own orcas and from a public relations perspective. Should they decide to offer her a home, I will be pleasantly surprised at their charity, because I do not forsee it going well for them.
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fatehbaz · 11 months
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Nordelta, one of Buenos Aires’s most exclusive areas, is a conglomerate of gated communities with over 50,000 residents. It sits on the wetlands of the River Paraná, second only to the Amazon in South America. And it was built by emptying and refilling canals, which [...] reduced the wetlands’ capacity to absorb rainfall. Nordelta opened in 2001, right when the economy collapsed after a decade of extreme neoliberal adjustments. In 2001, Argentina had five presidents in the span of 11 days, police killed 39 citizens during protests, and personal bank accounts were frozen [...]. Nordelta’s main attraction for consumers was [...] a distinguished, United States lifestyle. [...] Master-planned communities (MPCs) are privately built and designed neighborhoods in the city outskirts constructed by large-scale developers, offering amenities, services, and rules through homeowner associations. [...]
While driving through the main road to the conglomerate, [...] to the right, malls, apartments, and private schools with English names that are only accessible by car. [...] Over 8,000 workers cross these gates daily to provide multiple services. [...] These workers cannot walk on the avenues because “Nordelta residents do not want to see them around,” [...]. This segregationist structure of Nordelta emerged alongside the expansion of the neoliberal state. While Nordelta today resembles Miami, it was initially thought of as the French ville nouvelles (“new towns”), which aimed to integrate rural migrants within European cities.
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In 1977, engineer Julián Astolfoni acquired the first plot of land from the descendants of [...] a general who had obtained the lands previously peopled by Guaraníes and Carupás after fighting in the “Desert Campaign against the Indians.” When Astolfoni got the plot, Nordelta was conceptualized to fix the problem of undesired urban sprawl at a time when the [...] state of the last civic-military dictatorship was trying to “eradicate” the villas miseria (shantytowns) for being “filthy” spaces threatening private property and national moralities.  
The project goals shifted once it was finally approved in 1992 when Astolfoni partnered with businessmen [EC] and other North American corporations, [...] including [...] a U.S. real estate specialized in MPCs. [...] Nordelta retained the enduring idea of the desert as a space to be filled. Like every pioneer narrative, it positioned Astolfoni and [EC], the engineer-corporate duo, as heroes saving “neglected” environments and conquering a wetland that would remain otherwise “vast, useless, dangerous, and vacant.” They would do this by emulating the U.S. MPCs of the 1960s, the ones that turned public malls into consumption centers [...].
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In the 1990s, president Carlos Menem’s government extended neoliberal measures and promoted Miami as a tourist destination for middle-class families [...]. Despite its diversity, Miami became a symbol of whiteness and economic success [...]. The neoliberal reconfiguration of white exceptionalism as a desire to emulate western geographies became Nordelta’s mark, offering global lifestyles to the elites who can now “live like in Miami, but a few miles away from the Buenos Aires Obelisk,” as an Argentinian newspaper with connections to Nordelta claimed. [...]
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In 2001, when the machines were opening the soil, a woman [...] found ceramic pieces and bones. The finding led to an organized movement [...]. A team of archaeologists who had been working in the area before visited the place, corroborated the existence of an ancestral site, and registered it as the Punta Canal archaeological site. [...] Despite protests [...], the company sent excavators and destroyed a significant portion of the site. [...]  [T]he organized group of neighbors and Indigenous peoples constituting the Movimiento en Defensa de la Pacha Mama set out to protect the archaeological remains and the Indigenous cemetery [...]. [T]heir organization pushed for the recognition of the land, now named Punta Querandí, as communitarian in 2020 [...]. Furthermore, [...] the movement achieved the return and reburial of 42 bodies from ancestors whom an archaeologist from the U.S. Central Intelligence Agency had exhumed in 1925. [...]
[T]his long, complex, and well-documented story of the emergence of Punta Querandí [is told] in the museum, el Museo Autónomo de Gestión Indígena, which also has a digital archive. Despite the developers’ representation of the area as wild and rural, Punta Querandí has “made visible that the reality of Indigenous Peoples also occurs in Buenos Aires,” [...]. [T]he desegregationist project of Punta Querandí, a land not attached to geneticized or archaeologized visions of Indigeneity, but rather a Territory where Guaraní, Qom, Colla, Moqoit, or Aymara Peoples, among many others, can reunite [...].
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Punta Querandí and its desegregationist project shows the power of edges. [...]
Exemplified by Nordelta, MPCs generate profit by transforming rural into elite lands while rearticulating racial and spatial borders that make distinctions sharper, more guarded, and less porous -- between centers and peripheries, grounded and flooded land [...]. MPCs originated in the U.S. and continue to circulate American imaginaries of race, segregation, and neoliberal commons worldwide. [...]  By selling reductionist archetypes, such as the fantasy of white Miami, in order to profit from them, real estate developments obscure how environments continue to be complex, multiple, and diverse despite the violence enacted upon them.
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Text by: Mara Dicenta. “The Violence of Gated Communities in Buenos Aires’s Wetlands.” Edge Effects. 20 April 2023. [Bold emphasis and some paragraph breaks/contractions added by me.]
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Hello everyone. Happy new year.
I had a very rough 2023. I am hoping 2024 is not so nasty. I hope the same for all of you.
My Fact in Focus series ended up somewhat derailed due to a combination of family emergencies and the growing need to address the issues "the walrus whisperer" presents to activists and activism.
In addition to being a near-constant source of mis/disinformation, his pathological need to be the center of attention does a dramatic disservice to every cause he approaches.
With him now adding "UrgentSeas" into the mix - attempting to construct a façade of legitimacy - it further complicates things. Especially given the current climate of lazy journalism, which unfortunately rewards sensationalism and rarely bothers with research.
I've a playlist on youtube with these videos, and recently completed a 2-part, in-depth video regarding the recent manatee situation with the Miami Seaquarium.
youtube
youtube
Please share, and be on the lookout for more informative content in the future.
(tumblr specifically - I'm a bit behind on messages here, I will get to them soon. Thank you.)
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alpinelogy · 6 days
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Can I ask for 5 and 10 for your chalex one (unless that was the time loop one then you can choose any fic you’d like) and 7 for the redubull oscar one? The character is Oscar. I am very fascinated by that idea🫶🏽🫶🏽
Yes the chalex was in fact timeloop asdf. Executive decision therefore all will be about rbr!oscar. Heads up that I originally plotted that back in August last year and I have been rewriting it on and off for the past few weeks so everything is very stc and under heavy construction
5. Is there any scene you're excited about writing? I am making Logan and Oscar go on a road trip at one point! Genuinely one of my favorite parts of the fic and one of the few if not the only one that has so far survived the carnage that the doc is currently going through.
Important lore but is the fact that here, Logan never did F1 (or at least is now racing in Indy) so he is US based unlike Oscar over in the UK. So original plan was Logan to take Oscar on a road trip through the US to get his mind off of the season but the fic has been getting less depressing through rewrites so I might move it to Europe. Because I know it better lol. But yes, a road trip
7. What are your plans for Oscar? Oscar initially had a very messy and not well planned character arc that felt like I have been putting him through shit constantly and his character is the primary reason why I am replotting so much of it.
The original idea was uh... well look at what happened to the other two Aussies in Red Bull so far haha. But with timeloop where the ghost of Max Verstappen hangs over everything I am not particularly too fond of writing a fic where his ghost hangs over everything again. I need variety. Also idk how I feel writing Red Bull heavy fic rn so things will have to change on that front.
But the current plan is to stick him in a Red Bull for 2025 and have him face the fact that he no longer has a teammate that he gets along with like a house on fire and the idea of adjusting to a very different team from McLaren. But he is still an Aussie in a Red Bull. Some suffering will be required (affectionate)
10. If unpublished, can you show a sneak peek of what you've written? I am lowkey not happy with anything from it cause it is from a time when I was still super rusty but this has survived the carnage so far and will probably survive. Important context is that originally, this took place over the winter break but timelines might be condensed and this might be summer break instead
He spends Christmas in Australia with his family. During the limbo week between then and New Years he flies to America. Despite flying first class, he still doesn't sleep on the plane and feels like collapsing when he finally gets to Miami. He is coherent just enough to pick up his luggage and find Logan in arrivals but not much more. The hug they share can barely pass off as friendly but hey, Oscar is exhausted, it's a reasonable excuse. It’s on the correct side of too friendly in this context. When they get to Logan's apartment, Oscar manages to take a quick shower before collapsing to bed. He doesn't even bother to check which bed in which room, Logan would tell him if he minded. So he doesn’t give it any more thought and lets himself fall asleep, exhaustion finally winning. He wakes up to see the room bathed in the golden light of a sunset, slightly confused before he realizes where he is. Right, he's in Florida, at Logan's place. He looks around, properly studies the room now that he doesn't feel like collapsing again.
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topgunruinedme · 1 year
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The College Experience
Synopsis: Robert went to college with the rest of the squad, although right now he feels out of his depth. For some reason, he couldn’t help but smile at Jake Seresin.
Main Master List, Bob Master List, Prologue.
Inspired on @beachbabey image, here.
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Of cause he was stressed, not only had his roommate for the last 2 years changed colleges without so much as a goodbye, but Robert also now had to move buildings. They had sprung it on them earlier that week. He remembered his heart drop, and something lodged in his throat at the flyer left on his door, they had a week to move their stuff out before the building underwent construction, and they had to move to the new building to meet their roommates.
He had read the list of people on his floor several times, it was imprinted in his brain. Cassie Newman and Natasha Trace were the only woman on the floor and were roomed together. Across from them were Reuben Fitch and Bradley Bradshaw, an unfortunate name. Roberts’s room was next to theirs; he was paired with someone named Micky Garcia. Across the hall from them were Javy Machado and Jake Seresin.
So many things could go wrong, what if his roommate hated him? What if they were messy? What if they were the type that left things out for days? Or had toe fungus? Or worse. He shuttered, what if they were the type to stay up late to party and bring girls home?
So yes, he was understandably stressed, he liked having things planned out. The administration had not taken kindly to his plan, he liked being prepared. He hated being unprepared it was one of his fears, he had been like this as a kid. His mum used to tell him about it, bringing blankets and winter clothes to the beach in case they had a sudden snowstorm despite the fact they were in Miami. He was always prepared, it’s just who he was.
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When Robert stepped into his newly designated dorm room, he honestly hadn’t expected the man to be lounging back on his bed with a comic in hand.
“Superman or Spider-Man,” the boy said to him causing him to stop in the doorway blinking in confusion. Had he missed something?
The boy on the bed rolled his eyes and sit up “who would win?” he clarified. “Oh,” Bob flushed slightly at the boy’s attention, “uh- Spider-Man?” He answered hesitantly, the other boy’s face turned into a grin as he stood suddenly crossing the room wrapping his arm over Robert’s frozen body.
“Ah, I knew you would be a good man, come come. Let’s get you settled in” the boy said as he pulled him into the room, he extended his hand to the shorter boy “Micky” he offered. Bob found himself smiling despite being overwhelmed, “Robert”.
-
He had hardly unpacked his second bag, taking careful time to ensure his colour coding hadn’t been disrupted as he filled his drawers when the door bust opened. He startled flinching as the door slammed into the wall, he felt fiercely underdressed at the sight of the woman at the door. He quickly reached out and pulled on an oversized sweater in an attempt to feel safer with the unfamiliar person in his close proximity.
“Micky” she drawled, the boy on the bed hadn’t even acknowledged her he patiently flipped the page of his spiderman comic. Where did he keep getting them from? “Natasha” Micky replied in the same drawl, she rolled his eyes “Bradley’s not back for another day, Cassie is back and being a complete dick about it. Reubens went out with his boyfriend for the night”. “How is that my issue?” he asked her a small tilt of his lip showed he was listening to her rant, “I’m bored,” she said flatly, her eyes filtered over him and there was a spark of interest, oh no.
“Who’s this?” she asked, “Robert Floyd, the roommate remember?” Micky said flatly, already annoyed with the woman. “Come on Mickey, let’s show the newbie the grounds”, she grinned at him, and he swallowed sharply feeling small under her gaze, she reminded him of a shark, and not the friendly one from Nemo.
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Books were safe he decided, they had sent him an odd look but hadn’t commented when he had grabbed the books from his bedside and carried them as he followed. They weren’t really guiding him; they were more just gossiping occasionally remembering to point things out.
He bit his lip quietly and drifted back grateful the two hadn’t noticed he was now walking a foot or two behind them. Deciding how quickly he had to be to escape back to his dorm.
He had been silently trailing behind Natasha and Micky when he stepped away, it had only been for a moment. Apparently, that was enough, he had turned the corner away from the pair only to collide with a firm chest throwing them both to the ground. The perfectly styled blond hair, and strong jaw that clenched. The stormy green eyes that gazed back at him, along with the hard earnt buff body. It was almost enough to steal his breath away; it was the collision he blamed. The man was built like a bolder.  
He was not prepared to meet Jake Seresin.
The man glared at him from the ground, standing without bothering to give him a hand to gather the books that had spilt from his arms onto the floor when he braced himself for impact.
“Watch where you’re going” he hissed in anger at him as he stormed off, the other man who had been by the man’s side and sent him a small apologetic smile before hurrying after his counterpart.
“What an arse” Micky scoffed lending him a hand, Natasha rolled her eyes “that’s Seresin for you, a rich boy who doesn’t even try in class”. She leaned in as if to share a secret “they say his parents sent him here just to get away from him”, she had an unfamiliar glint in her eye and her smile put him on edge. He silently stood his books firmly in his arms, he didn’t respond to the others as he muttered “I’m going back to the dorm”.
He stopped in the hallway hesitating at the closed door he knew was Serein’s, the whiteboard on the door had rubbed the bottom of the name off, if he squinted, he could see the leftover of it.
‘Jake Seresin’, underneath it was ‘H_ngm_n’. Next to it was a stick figure with a smile on its face jumping from the side of a cliff with a noose around its neck, he grimaced. That had to be a sick joke he didn’t waste a thought closing the distance between him and the door, at the absence of an eraser he pulled the end of his sweater over his hand and used it to rub out the stick figure. He didn’t think about it when he slipped the cap of the marker and scribbled on the board. Nor when he returned it to its place in the side of the board.
Determined to be a good Nambour, he looked down at his bundle of books in his arms and picked one out, Mayday by Clive Cussler and placed it outside the door. With a small smile, having filled his quoter of people for the day he stepped back to his door and walked inside.
Unaware behind his closed door that Jake Seresin had heard someone outside his door and the familiar whiteboard creak and scowled, still upset having found the dam message left for him when he returned to the dorm.
Javy watched him wearily from his side of the room, as Jake waited for a moment as something was dropped to the ground outside the door it was unfamiliar. He waited until the click of another door shut before he jumped up from the bed starling Javy with the sudden movement, caused the boy to curse as he quickly dabbed the spilt water with a tissue.
“Jake” Javy hissed, he ignored him opening the door to his surprise to find a book waiting for him he looked at it in confusion picking it up and turning it over. Clive Cussler? Where had he heard that before it had an old plane flying on the cover and he held it thoughtfully. He turned to go back into the room and his eyes stilled on the whiteboard that had moments before been the cause of his rage. But he found a void space where the morbid stick figure used to be, left behind was a single classic smiley face. Two eyes and a mouth. 
He found himself lifting a hand absently to trace it carefully not to smudge it. He pulled out his phone and took a photo. After living with these dick heads for years, he had grown used to their taunts and hostile behaviour, he had assumed the new roommate Micky had gotten would be no different with the company he keeps. Maybe the roommate wouldn’t be so bad, his eyes flickered briefly to the door across from him reading the new name, Robert Floyd.
His lip twitched; Robert didn’t suit the small innocent man he had met moments before. The one he had ran into shoving to the ground, the one he had spat at and neglected to help. He couldn’t help being defensive around the others it had been drilled into him at this point, he still felt a small sliver of guilt. Despite how he treated the man, he had still scene the morbid image and whipped it away. Replacing it with something of positivity.
“Do you want me to leave while you have a moment with the door?” Javy dry comment pulled him back into their room, he rolled his eyes and stepped into the room book held protectively in his hand as the door shut. “Shut up” he scowled at the man who had become his only friend at this stupid university, who took his attitudes in stride.
He dropped onto his bed, swiping his phone open and placing the image as his home page background where only he would see it. He had an image of he and Javy on his lock screen dressed as cowboys when they went out for his birthday to celebrate, despite that they got arrested in the end it was the single happiest day he had had with anyone in a long time.
He chucked his phone to the side and laid back on the bed, the book in hand. He opened it carefully not to damage the spine, finding an inscription on the inside of the cover.
‘To Robbie,
With lots of love, Your sister xx
Don’t have to much fun at Uni without me’
The soon becoming smiley face was scribbled in the corner of the page, something that clearly was often shared through this family. Robbie, that suited him better. He wasn’t aware of the smile on his face until Javy scoffed, “wow, you’re falling hard” the man said quietly as Jake threw the pillow from his bed at the man, “don’t be a dick”. He didn’t deny it.
-
He picked out a book he had in his collection from a English class, he remembered reading it many years ago and for some reason he couldn’t bring himself to get rid of it. He pulled out the Jane Auston book and that morning before his normal 4am run, he dropped it quietly outside Robbie’s door.
He had already been running for 15 minutes when the man stumbled out his door, still dark out yawning quietly as he looked down at the offending object. He blinked slightly, a book.
Who was leaving a book outside the room? It was clearly for him, having heard Micky venomously declare he lived by comics and all books could die before he gave them up. He picked it up, it had clearly been read by not for a while by its yellowing paged, his eyes flickered to the whiteboard on their door and couldn’t help the small smile at the now slightly wanky smiley face next to his name, matching the door across from him.
Series Master List
Tag List: @tallrock35, @inthestars-underthesun, @luckyladycreator2, @fortunatelycrazyyouth, @abaker74, @happypopcornprincess.
A/N: Let me know if I missed anyone.
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joanshomesmiami · 9 months
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SOLD🥂West Eleventh Residences 2320 ✨
The perfect short term rental investment👌
West Eleventh Residences, is the first centrally-managed luxury condo residences with the ability to host 365 days a year on Airbnb. It is the first building of its kind in the entire country with a signed master hosting agreement with Airbnb, giving owners full control of nightly rentals (you set the price and no blackout dates), with a front desk management staff to remove any hassle.
It’s the 3rd tower in district 11 by @pmgdevelopment and will be completed in 2027.
Sales have been going fast 🚀 but there’s still some inventory left starting at $600k for a studio.
DM me for more info 🙌
📍West Eleventh Residences
#sold #westeleventh #westeleventhresidences #e11evenresidences #miaminewconstruction #newconstruction #miamiinvestments #miamirealestate #miamicondos #miamibroker #onesothebys #sothebysrealty #district11 #downtownmiami
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almostarts · 1 year
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Fernando Campana (1961 – 2022)
Born in the rural town of Brotas, the São Paolo-based designer earned a degree in architecture from the Faculdade de Belas Artes de São Paolo in 1984, before creating Estudio Campana that same year with his older brother Humberto, an attorney.
During the 1980s the studio produced a series of sculptural metal chairs welded from iron called Desconfortáveis (Uncomfortables), eventually moving toward a practice using everyday materials like cardboard, rope, wicker, bamboo, and wood.  Their iconic Favela Chair, from 1991 was fabricated with scraps of wood from discarded fruit crates, nailed and glued by hand. “The people who live in favelas construct their own homes, so I thought, why not construct a chair myself,” said Fernando in a discussion about the seat with curator Darrin Alfred from a 2010 interview. It was, he explained at the time, meant to symbolize a Brazilian shantytown.
It was in the 1990s—a time when the design world was primarily focused on the post-World War II movement of the Italians—that the Campanas came on the scene, with work that underscored Brazilian culture and its craft, sculpting furnishings from a range of raw and found materials. Their 1993 Vermelha Chair was a lesson in resourcefulness, hand-woven from cotton rope that enveloped a metal frame. 
Design journalist Arlene Hirst was “gobsmacked” when she first encountered the chair, manufactured by Italian manufacturer Edra, at the Salone del Mobile in Milan. A year later the chair was included in Project 66: Campana Brothers/Ingo Maurer, a 1998 exhibition at The Museum of Modern Art (MoMA), curated by Paola Antonelli, the museum’s senior curator of architecture and design, an associate at the time. For this show, Antonelli paired the Brazilian brothers’ furniture with German lighting designer Ingo Maurer’s luminaires in vignettes that highlighted a shared passion for materiality and invention.
Both Fernando and Humberto were active in the production process as well, but as is often the case with partners, they remained elusive about specific roles. “Fernando had the training, so he was the more pragmatic one,” noted Antonelli in a recent interview, referring to his architectural roots. “He never discussed it. And I never questioned it. It was implied,” she said. The younger Campana also drew inspiration from his daily routines, local markets and wandering São Paolo’s streets. Antonelli recalled asking him about his use of found objects, asking if they weren’t too cute? His response, “They are not too cute. They are part of my life.”
Many of those found objects—including stuffed animals—made their way onto upholstered seating like the 2002 Banquete series, which became the equivalent of a sold-out Broadway show. It is still produced out of the Campana São Paolo studio, and handsewn by local craftspeople who are considered part of the extended Campana family.
In 2010 the New York- and L.A.-based gallery Friedman Benda began global representation of the brother’s work. “Campana Studio brought a completely fresh perspective, creating a dialogue with local crafts and the use of the readymade,” says co-founder Marc Benda, adding, “They were trailblazers.” The gallery assisted with support of the studio and helped them to balance the commercial success of their practice with its roots in the hand made.  
One of the brothers’ last collaborations—presented in June at the 2022 Salone in Milan—is a collection called Metamorfosi, comprising five large-scale, pouf seats and a tapestry, created in collaboration with Italian textile designer Paola Lenti. Woven from remnants Lenti sorted and saved with CouLture Migrante, a social tailoring atelier (involving men and women asylum seekers residing in Como, Italy) the limited-edition pieces make their North American debut at Design Miami in December.
The work of Estudio Campana can be found at the Vitra Design Museum, Centre Pompidou, Musée Des Arts Décoratifs, MoMA, among other design-focused institutions. In 2020, they were the subject of 35 Revolutions, a retrospective at Museum of Modern Art, Rio de Janeiro on the occasion of their 35th anniversary.
Words by Melissa Feldman
Favela Chair for Edra, 2000, Pine, Height: 29.14 in (74 cm)Width: 26.38 in (67 cm)Depth: 24.41 in (62 cm)Seat Height: 15.75 in (40 cm),
Vermelha Armchair for Edra, 2019, Aluminium, Cord, natural cotton, Steel, 86 x 58 x h.77 cm,
Tornado Vase, Ghidini 1961, Bronze, W 11.81 x D 9.45 x H 14.57,
Jackfruit Table Lamp, Ghidini 1961, Polished Brass, Height: 19.69 in (50 cm), Diameter: 12.21 in (31 cm),
Bomboca Sofa GM, Objets Nomades, Louis Vuitton, 46.9 x 34.5 x 94.9 cm (18.5 x 13.6 x 37.4 in),
Bolotas Sofa (Cherry), 2019, Sheep’s wool, ipÊ, H: 95 W: 125 L: 215, Carpenters Workshop Gallery,
Edward Scissorhands side table, Giustini/Stagetti, 2014, Portorotype black marble and gilded bronze, 12 dia. x 22½ h in. (Casati Gallery),
Corallo Armchair for Edra S.p.A., Italy, 2004, Steel wire and epoxy paint, 38 x 60 x 39" (96.5 x 152.4 x 99.1 cm), Courtesy MoMa,
Sushi Buffet, 2012, Carpet, rubber, EVA, fabric and estela handcrafted into sushi rolls partially covering brass structure 28.25 x 78.75 x 17.75 inches (72 x 200 x 45 cm)
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follow-up-news · 6 months
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Window strikes are an issue in almost every major U.S. city. Birds don’t see clear or reflective glass and don’t understand it’s a lethal barrier. When they see plants or bushes through windows or reflected in them, they head for them, killing themselves in the process. Birds that migrate at night, like sparrows and warblers, rely on the stars to navigate. Bright lights from buildings both attract and confuse them, leading to window strikes or birds flying around the lights until they die from exhaustion — a phenomenon known as fatal light attraction. In 2017, for example, almost 400 passerines became disoriented in a Galveston, Texas, skyscraper’s floodlights and died in collisions with windows. “Unfortunately, it is really common,” said Matt Igleski, executive director of the Chicago Audubon Society. “We see this in pretty much every major city during spring and fall migration. This (the window strikes at McCormick Place) was a very catastrophic single event, but when you add it all up (across the country), it’s always like that.” [...] Window strikes and fatal light attraction are easily preventable, said Anna Pidgeon, an avian ecologist at the University of Wisconsin-Madison. Building managers can simply dim their lights, she said, and architects can design windows with markings in the glass that birds can easily recognize. People can add screens, paint their windows or apply decals to the glass as well. New York City has taken to shutting off the twin beams of light symbolizing the World Trade Center for periods of time during its annual Sept. 11 memorial ceremony to prevent birds from becoming trapped in the light shafts. The National Audubon Society launched a program in 1999 called Lights Out, an effort to encourage urban centers to turn off or dim lights during migration months. Nearly 50 U.S. and Canadian cities have joined the movement, including Toronto, New York, Boston, San Diego, Dallas and Miami. Chicago also participates in the Lights Out program. The city council in 2020 passed an ordinance requiring bird safety measures in new buildings but has yet to implement the requirements. The first buildings at McCormick Place were constructed in 1959.
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astarab1aze · 9 days
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Places Around the World (P1)
⸻Salem's Crossing, Miami, FL.
Located in the underbelly of Miami, Salem's Crossing serves one of many meeting places for supernaturals alongside Time's Square in New York, Alcatraz in San Francisco, The Denver Pavilions in Colorado, and others. It behaves as a sort of 'pocket dimension', a place separate from the non-magic world, and all entrances into this 'dimension' can be closed at-will from any suspiciously prying eyes. This easy departure from the world as a whole allows the supernatural world to remain hidden and inaccessible to non-magic people and even other sorcerers if necessary. The presiding sorcerers have a tendency to move entrances as well, thus further preventing detection from non-magic folk in accordance with the Secrecy & Safety Statutes agreed upon by Sorciers and the USDRS.
Aesthetically, Salem's Crossing might appear as a place 'out of time' as it maintains a strange mashup of French, Spanish, and contemporary magic and non-magic motifs, decor, and other design choices from prior eras (chiefly the 1800s). For example: The Bubbler's Brew looks akin to an old carnival ground, dripping in Vaudevillian presentation and Creole ornamentation; The Tattered Cover looks like any old bookstore you might find in, say, Salem itself, with northern coastal construction and plain color schemes, though the inside is a bit of a different story for obvious reasons; and so on.
It is connected to Salem, Mass. and is widely regarded as a more culturally diverse extension of the city, merely located in Miami, FL.
The street all the important shops are on is named Rum-Runner's Circle, and it serves as a sort of hub for the Southern sorcerer states in 'dimensional' conjunction with New Orleans' French Quarter. This is also where the first Gildebanque's was opened, with the other two in Time's Square and Alcatraz respectively (Gildebanque's is run by the Gilde Family and Tommy-knockers, landmark accomplishment in unifying supernaturals).
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Individual Locations
Nightingale's, a general sorcery supply store based in Salem's Crossing, established in 1732. Owned and operated by Talula Burke, who was the Summoning professor at Belegerande's in the 80's. This is the best place to go when shopping for school or to resupply on the basics.
Bubbler's Brew, an apothecary based in Salem's Crossing, established in 1949 by the Oddry-Collins family. Their inventory contains all the ingredients necessary to brew a fine restorative, invisibility potion, something that'll make you grow taller, shorter, rounder, balder-- If you've the money for it, they do also have rarer ingredients, from blackwyrm organs and glands to whole firenewts, dragon eggshell, dragon glass, whole styxie, boonie wings, crocodingo glow sacs, drakodil feet, and plenty, plenty more. All ingredients are ethically sourced uwu !
The Tattered Cover, a bookstore containing magical and mundane publications of most types, connecting Salem's Crossing with the heart of Denver. Working in conjunction with smaller bookstores, an intricate web strings together yet more populations of supernaturals. In a way, it's more or less a supernatural highway with revolving doors and a bookshop.
Gretle's, once known as 'Of Arsenic & Sugar' and 'The Sug' (Dale Gribble's wife opened this place), is a candy and snack franchise that's been around since 1801. Run by witches with a unique talent for it, it's been pumping out all sorts of famous magical confections such as FrankenLeeches, Snallygobsters, among others.
Strychnine Theater, which isn't so much a theater as it is an event arena held entirely underground in Salem's Crossing that is generally used for illegal dueling tournaments among other illegal activities. It was once a highly respected institution, the scene of many elegant magical plays, operas, and other acts, but fell into shabbyness and disrepair, then to crime and cruelty, with the introduction of the drug Noxium, which has the same effect as heroin when ingested (but was otherwise a great topical ointment for snap-trap bites), by poachers, scoundrels, the odd murderer or two, etc. Now, it's a hotbed for all manners of illegal activity.
Mirewood Crossroads, which is simply another name for any liminal space throughout the swamps of the South, most of which are defunct or overtaken by poachers, drug dealers, murderers, ambitious thieves, the vilest necromancers who've no respect for the dead, unchecked vampires, frogmen, wild animals, supernatural beasts, and other such things. Nothing's been quite right about them either, not since they'd been mostly abandoned. Who knows what may be found there? Maybe a mirror or two remains active. The Mirewood Crossroads locations that are still in use today are located in the town square of Salem's Crossing, Belle's Hollow in Belle Valley (named for Alistair Belegerande's beloved wife, Isabella), one in Texas, Louisiana, and Alabama.
Fleur de Lis', Very Nice™️ supernatural fashion store located in Salem's Crossing, run by Fortuna Damaris - the only known true fae in North america. She broke away from the Court to pursue her dream, connecting with the strange, mortal, and human, and create. Since the 1850's, she's been happily running Fleur de Lis' and has a permanent business contract with both Belegerande's and Madame Scrivener's schools. She alone designs and produces their school uniforms, drapes, bedding, etc. Fleur de Lis' as a business has exceptional marks, but is quite expensive.
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