#Marie Sackler Responds | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

direnightshade · 3 years

Note

Okay, I am sitting here imagining all the brushing of hands, secret glances, lingering motions, angsty kisses in the rain out in the garden. I want REGENCY/SLOW BURN. I need it. You need it. We all need it. I would like it with....I want to say Sackler but I think it may be too chaotic. So I will let you choose Sackler of Kylo. I am going to sit here like a small child before their birthday for this...

We do need this, and I never knew that I needed it until you filled my head with it. It’s all I’ve thought about for days, Marie. DAYS. I got a little carried away and, uh, this one’s coming in just a little over 3k.

“Have you heard the news?”

The gentle clink of a porcelain tea cup can be heard as it is settled back down onto its designated saucer. To Marnie’s left, Shoshanna hides her smile behind the rim of her own cup as she tips it back to deposit a dainty sip of the still hot tea into her mouth. Your gaze shifts back and forth between the woman and you shift rather uncomfortably in your seat, brows furrowing in both confusion and mild amusement at whatever it is the two of them are keeping from you.

“No,” you reply, albeit a little more forceful than you’d initially intended. “What news?”

Both Marnie and Shoshanna exchange knowing glances and growing smiles, the looks earning a huff of exasperation from you.

“Out with it…”

“There has been talk,” says Marnie in her typical haughty tone, always so pleased with herself to be the first to know the county’s business, “of a certain someone returning from London.”

There’s that knowing look again, and almost immediately, you find yourself sitting a little straighter, your demeanor a little more lady-like as if preening yourself for the aforementioned someone who hasn’t even shown face. “A certain someone,” you ask, though try as you might, you simply cannot hide the hint of eagerness that shines through the question posed.

“Oh, please.” This time it is Shoshanna who speaks up, once again reaching for her cup of tea. “Do not dare to think either of us to be so foolish as to not know that you are well aware that it is your precious Adam who will be returning.”

A long stretch of silence follows her statement, and for a moment you find yourself at a loss for words, merely left to stare at her in disbelief whilst she sips her tea, quite unbothered by the revelation. Of course it was Adam. Who else could it have possibly been?

The moment that your mind reels and catches up with a very specific descriptor used to describe him your mouth opens to protest, but in true Marnie fashion, she is one step ahead of you.

“Alas, he is no longer hers, is he, Shosh?”

Immediately, your eyes shoot over to where Marnie sits still casually sipping her tea as if she hasn’t just dropped a very large and important nugget of information. Your face heats and your chest tightens at the thought, and yet…

He was never yours to begin with, this you know.

The two of you had merely grown up together; you were nothing more than childhood friends tethered together by an affable bond between two families. When he had come of age, Adam left both his family and you behind in search of work opportunities in London where he had, or so you heard, become even wealthier than he had been prior to his departure. And now…

“He most certainly is not,” Shoshanna replies, now setting her cup down one final time, its contents now completely consumed. Her hands begin to smooth the fabric of her dress, the motion languid whilst she speaks. “I heard that he has become betrothed to a Baroness who is undoubtedly much more well-to-do than anyone at this table…”

An undignified snort escapes Marnie, the sound quickly dispersed by another sip of her now rapidly cooling tea. “Well-to-do financially,” she says once her sip has been consumed. “I heard that Mr. Sackler is rather unhappy.”

“Unhappy?” The word falls from your tongue embarrassingly quickly.

The two women sat across from you both smirk in that abhorrently annoying way they do. “Aye,” says Marnie. “She is a pretty young thing with a wealth one could only dream to have, but alas, I have been told she simply cannot keep a grasp on his heart.”

“She never stood a chance, did she,” interjects Shoshanna. “Not when it has already belonged to another.”

You swallow thickly, eyeing both of the women before you. “There is another?”

Unexpectedly, both Marnie and Shoshanna burst into a brief bout of laughter. “Oh, do not be daft, my dear,” Marnie says once the laughter has faded away. “Do you not recall the summer in which he left for London?”

Once again, Shoshanna interjects. “How he watched you so wistfully from his carriage…”

“No,” you reply almost immediately. “You must be mistaken.” And yet… You find yourself hopeful that these words will ring true.

“Why don’t you find out for yourself this evening.” Marnie’s smirk remains in place whilst she speaks, and like Shoshanna, her cup also now stands emptied. “You are attending the ball for his return, are you not?”

You nod slowly in silent reply, your own cup of tea long forgotten and ice cold.

The second hand of the longcase clock that is displayed in the foyer of the manor in which the ball is taking place now strikes half past seven upon your arrival. A number of guests have already begun to convene in the manor’s ballroom and when you, too, join them you are immediately flanked by both Marnie and Soshanna.

“He’s already arrived,” murmurs Marnie.

“I should hope so,” you reply instantly, “this is his home after all.”

“You look quite the treat,” Shoshanna shoots back, ignoring your quip. “I imagine Adam will undoubtedly agree.” There is a pause, and then a soft gasp as her hand reaches out to grasp your upper arm. “Speaking of which…”

She nods to your right, and when you turn your head, you’re greeted by a sight that steals the breath straight from your lungs. Standing a head taller than most of the others in this room is none other than Adam who, certainly judging by the way he is weaving through the crowd, has noticed your presence as well.

“Is he…” Your question trails off into silence, the words barely a whisper whilst you maintain eye contact, unable to look away from the man who is on a mission to reach you.

“On his way over,” asks Marnie. “Indeed it would seem so.”

Marnie and Shoshanna exchange glances and offer their good lucks and goodbyes, quickly leaving your side to disappear into the crowd before you so much as have the chance to object to their all too sudden abandonment. With a quick pivot, you turn around only to collide with an audible ‘oomph’ into a solid wall of muscle. Two large hands lift in immediate response to grasp your upper arms, steadying you on your feet. Your heart leaps in your chest at the contact and though your eyes begin to lift to look at the man who’s stopped you in your tracks, you are already fully aware of whom those hands belong to.

Slowly, your eyes trail upwards past the black wool vest and the gold buttons that keep it held snugly in place across a body that is much broader than the last time the two of you had crossed paths, past the golden colored ascot that is wrapped around a muscular neck, and further up to a face that looks so similar and yet so very different. His face is framed by dark sideburns that barely manage to peek out from the hair that has grown so long since you had last spoken, the strands appearing so soft in the warm glow of the room that your fingers twitch at the thought, at your longing to reach out and feel for yourself. His eyes, however, are the very same as what you had remembered them to be; still a lovely shade of hazel—honeyed you’d told him once.

Your lips part just as you feel the slip of his fingers from the skin of your arms, and just as it did when he’d left for London, your heart aches yet again.

Softly, your name falls from his own lips in greeting, a pleased smile taking root. “You look lovely tonight, though I will admit I did not think I would have the pleasure of your company this evening.”

A soft smile now touches your features in automatic response to his statement, one which holds so much surprise in the tone. “Yes, well, you were my friend once. I would be remiss if I did not join in celebrating your homecoming.”

The pleased expression on Adam’s face falters only a fraction, but just enough for you to take note. “Are we not still friends?”

There is a lingering moment of silence between the two of you, hesitation preventing you from responding quickly enough, and then: “Friends do not leave one another without so much as a goodbye. Friends do not fail to allow their communications to cease abruptly. So no, I do not suppose that we are.”

He can sense it, the hurt that your tone carries. It is as obvious to him as the melody of the piano that plays in this very room. Adam’s mouth parts, no doubt to provide some sort of explanation, but no sooner has his mouth opened than his name is called from nearby. He turns and you peer around his stocky frame only to find a young, pretty blonde who has now managed to grasp his attention, flagging him down to join her and the three gentlemen she’s convened with.

I heard that he has become betrothed to a Baroness…

...a pretty young thing with a wealth one could only dream to have…

You watch, helpless, whilst Adam leaves you once more, this time to weave his way through the crowd to approach the woman who is undoubtedly this Baroness Marnie and Shoshanna had spoken of so eagerly earlier in the day. He leans in, pressing one kiss to her left cheek followed by a mirrored kiss to her right. It feels now—while you are doomed to watch this unfold before your very eyes—as if your heart has physically cracked, splintering into tiny shards that you are certain may never mend.

Pivoting on the balls of your feet, you turn with the intention of making your exit, but just as your earlier move had been thwarted by Adam, so too are you stopped this time, now courtesy of Marnie.

“Surely you are not leaving so soon.”

The expression that you wear sours which only encourages her to roll her eyes and loop her arm around your own, leading you away from the room’s entrance.

“A valiant effort I will admit, however, you owe everyone a dance.”

You scoff indignantly. “I most certainly do not. Not you nor anyone else. I never agreed to a dance.”

“No,” she counters, only releasing her hold on your arm once she has positioned you to her liking whilst others in the room line up beside you to take their respective places for the dance.

The music in the room shifts and the sounds of a flute now join in with the piano. Across from where you stand is none other than Adam and beside him, the blonde, but like you, he seems to be equally focused on what’s standing across from him.

He swallows harshly and your fingers flex within the elbow-length gloves that you wear, and only once the tempo of the music picks up do you—along with everyone else partaking in the dance—take the hands of those that flank you and begin to step in tandem with the melody in one large, conjoined circle.

When the beat of the music shifts once more, the hands that you grasp now release themselves from your hold, and you turn to your nearby partner to reach for them, clasping one of their hands behind their back and the other behind your own. The two of you twirl and twirl. Your head swivels with each turn, eyes seeking out the familiar hazel. When you finally spot them, you find that not only is he much closer than you had anticipated, but that he, too, has sought out your gaze.

The two of you carry on like this, switching from partner to partner, never once breaking eye contact with one another until…

“I never thought you the dancing type,” Adam says good-naturedly, the corners of his mouth curling in a smirk when the two of you finally manage to pair up.

For a fleeting moment, your lips press together in display of your displeasure—a stark contrast to the sudden and rapid beating of your heart which now pounds against the interior of your ribcage. Gently, Adam glides the pad of his thumb against the back of your knuckles, pulling you from the thoughts that you have begun to lose yourself in.

“I most certainly am not,” you protest. “I can assure you that I did not come here for a dance.”

“Then why did you come here?” There is an edge to his voice, one that—dare you say—sounds hopeful.

His hands grip yours a little tighter and...has he gotten a little closer? You inhale a breath that sounds much like a soft gasp whilst the two of you continue to move in perfect unison.

“I… I came here because I—”

But there is no time to finish your sentence. Just as the song has continued so, too, do you and Adam move onto others, once again doomed to watch one another from afar.

It is two days later when your paths cross again. The sun is shining overhead, the sky is blue, and the flowers have all bloomed to fragrance the garden with their magnificent scents. The only dark cloud that has come to ruin a perfectly good day is that which comes in the form of one Adam Sackler.

He strides so confidently out of the home’s back entrance and into the garden where you stand, a hand delicately caressing the velvety texture of a rose’s petal. He looks, much to your chagrin, every bit as enticing as he had two nights ago, though his golden ascot has since been replaced with one that is blood red. It suits him, you think to yourself before dispelling the thought from your mind.

“What are you doing here,” you ask, the words leaving you in a rush as the rose slips from your grasp when you turn to face him.

“I have come to speak with you,” he replies, stopping short of where you stand in order to keep a respectable distance between you.

“You must be mistaken.” Your head shakes firmly, jaw set and resolve steady. “I did not send for you.”

“No. No you did not, and yet I am here.”

“Why?”

It is obvious in the way that he reels that the bitter tone in your voice has taken him aback. He is silent for a brief moment, lifting a hand to pull the wool felt top hat from his head, exposing more of his flowing mane in the process. “You left in such a hurry the other night. I did not have a chance to bid you a good night.”

The noise that you make is one of indifference. “How mirthful coming from the likes of you.”

“Enough,” he bites back.

Your hands work along the silken fabric of your dress, making vain attempts to smooth the fabric in an effort to keep yourself occupied as you gather your thoughts and debate whether or not to allow them to tumble from your lips.

And yet…

Tumble they do.

“Word spread rather quickly upon your return...of your engagement.”

Adam has the audacity to look shocked at your words.

“You asked me the other night why I came. I had hoped that they were wrong. But then I saw her…”

His brows furrow as if trying to comprehend precisely what it is that you are telling him. His mouth opens and closes only to open again, but before he is able to formulate a cohesive sentence, you continue to let the words flow so freely.

“And yet you had the nerve to look at me so fondly...so...so wistfully, I—” Your words trail off as your head shakes fervently, eyes averting his piercing gaze.

It is now that Adam seizes his chance, taking a step towards you, followed by another. “You are mistaken.”

Your gaze snaps back to his, eyes narrowing as if to decipher whether or not he is telling you the truth. Another step is taken towards you, and grasping his hat firmly in one hand, he reaches for you with the other. This move, however, is one made far too soon. You take a step back, dodging his grasp and halting his movement entirely.

“Don’t,” you whisper. “Do not presume to come here and make a play for my heart when you are with another.”

“You are mistaken,” he says again, much more urgently this time.

“Do you love another?” The question leaves you in a rush, and for a moment, there is only silence that follows.

But then…

Adam takes another step forward followed by another and another until finally he is mere centimeters from where you stand. The hat has long since been discarded onto the grass, his hands reaching out to frame your face.

“No,” he says firmly and with conviction. “I love only you.”

He leaves you with no time for a rebuttal; his lips meet yours softly at first, but when you reach to grab the lapels of his coat, fingers curling into the fabric, the kiss quickly becomes much more urgent.

When you are finally able to part from one another, your faces remaining close, your gaze lifts to look at him once more. “But what about—”

“My love, do you always make it a habit to listen to such gossip? There is no one else. There never has been.”

A smile stretches across your features, a mirror of the one that is now displayed so prominently on Adam’s face, the dimples you remember as a child coming to light once more. He leans in yet again to press his lips tenderly to your own.

Finally, at long last, the love you had feared to be unrequited all these years is finally yours.

#Ask #mariesackler #Adam Sackler #Sackler #Regency!Sackler #Adam Sackler x Reader #Sackler x Reader #Regency!Sackler x Reader #Regency Romance

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jynzandtonic · 4 years

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When will you pay for your heinous crimes.

For anyone reading this, I would like to apologize in advance.

This is not part of your regularly-scheduled programming.

This is in reference to the Father Garupe Coffee Shop/Fluff/Kid-Fic/Cattle-Farming AU that some shitty anon (read: me, it was me) provoked G into writing.

Here you go, @ohiobluetip. Consider this my Hail Mary.

You pound at the door of the humble thatch-and-stone cottage, sweat dripping from your sun-beaten brow.

The harrowing climb up the slopes of Mt. Yasumandake had made every muscle in your body scream with pain—or that could just be from the scurvy you developed on the boat journey to Hirado Island—and humidity clings to the overpriced lingerie you wear under your 17th-century nun’s habit, but you don’t give a flying fuck. You squeeze the INTERPOL badge at your hip. This is your God-given duty.

You’re met with the black eyes of Father Francisco Garupe as the weathered wooden door creaks open, but his face is changed since you last saw him; while his slim frame and angular features remain the same, his cheeks are much plumpened from Japanese cow’s milk.

“You know what I’ve come for,” you say, your voice cold as iron.

Garupe nods somberly. “I do, sister.”

Good. You’d worried that he would protest, that he would refuse, that he’d rather drown in the ocean than—oh, err, sorry. Too soon to joke?

“Give me but a moment, sister,” he says, peering over his shoulder into the cottage. You hear shuffling about inside. “Adoración Agustina Encarnación de Francisca! Come here.”

Confused, you watch as a young, black-eyed girl emerges from behind Garupe, offering up a small, swaddled bundle. Garupe plucks it from her tiny arms and transfers it to you.

“The fuck?!” you ask as he places a newborn baby in your arms.

“Please hold my youngest, sister. His name is… Charlie. I will return shortly.” He turns on his heel and disappears into the interior.

Stunned, you stare down at baby!Charlie. He coos up at you softly, then promptly and violently shits his thin cloth diaper.

Before you can find a flowerbox to leave the baby in, Father Garupe returns with a perfectly-frothed whole-milk matcha latte.

“I hope this is to your liking, sister,” he says, plucking baby!Charlie from your grip and handing you the warm, artisanal ceramic mug. “It is drinking-temperature. Jyn milked the cows this morning.”

You notice the latte art is an intricate and extremely adorable panda flipping you off.

“But pandas don’t even fucking LIVE in Japan,” you snarl.

He exhales deeply. “Jyn told me you’d say that during our morning fingerblasting session today. But pandas also don’t have fingers, yet you did not comment on that.”

“JYN NEEDS TO BE HELD ACCOUNTABLE!”

He hands baby!Charlie to Adoración Agustina Encarnación de Francisca and gently shoos her off, probably to go fall down a hillside or get eaten by pandas or something.

“Jyn is a child of God, now. All sins are forgiven,” he says.

“That’s bullshit and you know it, Frisco,” you sneer.

“TAKE ME INSTEAD! TAKE ME INSTEAD! YOU HAVE A WHOLE CREEPY BAD PRIEST AU TO FINISH! TAKE ME INSTEAD!” He’s screaming like a madman, and it’s hurting your ears. Hmm, or maybe that’s the scurvy, too.

“SHUT! THE FUCK! UP!” you yell, sounding an awful lot like Adam Sackler from some season of HBO Girls I can’t remember the number of. “I have to get out of this shitpost right now.”

Oh no, Jyn thinks, have I fucked this up by breaking the fourth wall and using two different ‘I’s in the same paragraph?

“Shut up, Jyn,” you say.

You can hear me?! Jyn thinks.

“Yeah, I can. And I’m outta here. Why don’t you fill some ACTUAL prompts while I respond to your 47 other shitty asks?”

I’m sick of this callout culture, Jyn thinks, but I think Garupe has some more shit to say to you.

“Fine,” you say.

“Kneel, sweet sister.” Garupe’s words are like poisoned wine dripping down your throat—intoxicating, irresistible, deadly. “I wish to bless you before you go.”

In spite of yourself, you sink down before him, the cold, rough limestone of the cottage’s threshold biting into your shins.

Parting his long, black robes, he exposes his matchstick thighs clad in acid-wash denim short-shorts. In one swift motion, he shucks the jorts down to his ankles, revealing his veiny, purple, one-and-a-half-foot long Jesuit cock. “I heard you like watersports, Sister G. Let me offer you some of my... Holy Water.”

#YOU'LL NEVER TAKE ME ALIVE!#this is not tonic tuesday #this is not anything #AYYYY PAPIIIIII #father garupe wears JORTS #ohiobluetip is daddy but garupe is PAPI #pure 100% crack #pure 100% cowshit #don't read this #bye #ohiobluetip

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callmehopeless · 6 years

Text

Empty Seat

Words: 997

Plot: Adam misses the opening night of his best friend’s play because he’s too busy screwing around with his ex. His priorities are wrong, and you don’t know what you’ve got until it’s gone.

A/N: This morning I watched Spider-Man 2: the one with our boi Tobey in it. Long story short, I love the scene where he runs into Mary Jane and she says “But my best friend who cares so much about me, can't make 8 o'clock curtain. After all these years, he's nothing to me but an empty seat”. And I thought “hey you know what this sounds like? An opportunity for wildly angsty fanfiction!”

He’s not sure what he expected.

His agent got him the ticket, and sure, he’s here for the ‘career building’, or whatever the fuck that means. He ducks through the crowd of glittering faces: the smell of expensive aftershave permeating the air as blonde women with the same waterfall of hair and puckered lips sip at golden champagne.

He’s tall: too tall to hide among the crowd as his director zones in. Shit, fuck. He just doesn’t want to talk about the play right now - which was just his luck. Just his luck he’d come to a glamorous party for playwrights and actors and all their fancy fake friends.

Feeling hot in his cuff-links, he downs his glass of water, moving to the balcony with some speed. And as the cool night air puckers at his cheeks: he sees a familiar face and freezes.

“Hey”, he breathes. It’s nonchalant, but he’s feeling dizzy; this pain in his gut that won’t dissipate as he takes her in.

Broadway hasn’t changed her nearly as much as he’d expected. She’s always been beautiful; soft lips and starry eyes. Red dress hitching in the right places, leading his eyes downward. She’s so fucking beautiful - so beautiful it makes him ache. Every time he sees her face on a billboard, on a flyer: well, he feels a pull. It’s magnetism.

She purses her lips, and he notices they shine in the starlight. Her manicured nails set down the champagne flute on the railing. Precarious. Her eyes drift to his, and he notices how she changes - how she looks distant. Tired.

“You’re here. You showed up”.

Adam flinches a little under the weight of it; blowing out air from one of his cheeks as he looks back over his shoulder. He wonders if he should just...go. He’s cowardly enough to do that, he thinks. He’s been running from his problems a whole lot nowadays.

“Yeah...my fucking manager got me tickets. Insisted I come. A career move”, he mutters. His eyes dart back to hers suddenly, and he wishes he had something to bridge this gap between them. A gap he created. A gap he made real.

She doesn’t respond, and the silence drops like a lead weight.

“Listen-” he rasps.

“Don’t. Don’t start”.

Her brows crease as she takes a deep breath, and Adam’s over 6ft frame feels like it’s shrinking away. Illuminated by starlight and the warm light from the doorway, she’s angelic. Wrathful.

“I saved you a ticket. Five times, actually. I left three voicemails. You didn’t call back”.

Adam Sackler drops his gaze; zoning in on the metal latticework of the balcony. He can’t even bring himself to blink; his plush lips pressing together into a thin line as he tries to know where to start. There’s this pain in his throat, balling up, forcing him to choke on his words.

“I...” he huffs, running a calloused hand through his thick hair. “Fuck. Stuff came up. A lot of stuff”.

She rolls her eyes, her hand on the balcony now. His eyes are drawn to the way her knuckles coil about the frame as though in desperation. He’s familiar with that: anger is never just anger, is it? It’s always more than one thing.

“Right”. She bites her bottom lip “you mean you were too busy sleeping with your ex to come to my show? To answer any calls? For what, a week?”

Shit.

He doesn’t know how she knows - how the hell does she know? Regret is damning, and he feels his whole face flush this unseemly shade of dark red. He’d broken up with Jessa for good reason, but he’s lonely. Stressed. She’s an easy fuck, if he’s there to open the door. The whole thing was pathetic, and sad, and made his stomach twist.

“Look, I’m...fuck. I’m so sorry”.

“You know” she sniffs, wrinkling her nose “I saved you a seat in the front row during opening night. Like I said I would, remember? Everyone showed. My family flew in just to see it. My mum applauded so loudly I thought the whole theater could hear” she chokes “my friends lined the stands. Even my ex came. But my best friend, who cares so much about me? He can’t even make an 8′oclock curtain”.

Adam does meet her eyes then, and he wishes he hadn’t. He sees the emotion immediately - they’re actors, right? Trained to recognize and understand emotions on people. That’s what got them this far. And it’s all over her face.

He’s broken her heart.

“After all this time”, she swallows “he’s nothing to me but an empty seat”.

Her voice hitches and wavers on the inflections, but it’s clear and strong enough that he just knows.

He knows because he loves her.

He always has. And that fucking scares him more than anything.

“Let me make it up to you” he begs “I’ll come this week. I’ll take you out for dinner at that place you love downtown. Anything. Please. Fuck.”

He’s losing her; losing his nerve. She’s his best friend in the whole world - but he thinks deep down, he’s been in love with her since he first saw her rush out onto stage. That first twinkle in her eye. And its never been the right time. And now, he wonders if it ever will be again.

Maybe he’s blown it. Maybe for good.

She plucks up her glass, taking several steps towards him.

“If you cared that much, Adam” she breathes “you would’ve been there”.

He reaches for her arm as she passes him, but she’s too quick; and he finds his legs wobbling as he calls her name from the balcony, his voice carrying into the crowd. But before, long; she’s gone. And all Adam can do is press his palms to his face and bite back the stupid fucking tears pooling at his eyes.

Turns out loving her isn’t scarier than anything.

Losing her is much more fucking scary.

#adam sackler #adam sackler x reader #girls hbo #adam driver #jessa johansson #fanfiction

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kevinscottgardens · 4 years

Text

1 - 5 January 2020

I managed to pull together all the plants blooming in the garden on New Year’s Day, even though I didn’t work it this year. I went around on 31 December and again on 2 January. This year these taxa were flowering:

Abutilon × milleri

Acacia baileyana 'Purpurea'

Acanthus sennii

Achillea millefolium

Adlumia fungosa

Ageratina ligustrina

Ajuga reptans

Alonsoa incisifolia

Alonsoa warscewiczii

Alstroemeria aurea

Amicia zygomeris

Ammi majus

Anagyris foetida

Angelica archangelica

Anisodontea capensis

Antirrhinum majus

Arbutus canariensis

Arbutus unedo f. rubra

Argyranthemum pinnatifidum subsp. pinnatifidum

Asterotrichion discolor

Banksia integrifolia var. compar

Bergenia × schmidtii

Bergenia crassifolia

Bidens aurea

Blumenbachia insignis

Camellia sasanqua 'Hugh Evans'

Camellia sinensis

Carum carvi

Cestrum parqui

Cestrum psittacinum

Chamaemelum nobile

Chimonanthus praecox

Chimonanthus praecox Grandiflorus Group

Cistus creticus

Cneorum tricoccon

Cobaea scandens

Colletia hystrix 'Rosea'

Colletia paradoxa

Convolvulus cneorum

Coronilla valentina subsp. glauca 'Citrina'

Correa backhousiana

Cyanus segetum

Cytisus canariensis

Dahlia imperialis

Dahlia pteropoda

Delphinium × belladonna

Descurainia millefolia

Dichroa febrifuga

Diplotaxis tenuifolia

Drimys winteri

Echium hypertropicum

Eranthis hyemalis

Eriocephalus africanus

Eruca vesicaria subsp. sativa

Eryngium pandanifolium 'Physic Purple'

Fabiana imbricata 'Violacea'

Fuchsia 'Hawkshead'

Fuchsia magellanica 'Thompsonii'

Fuchsia magellanica var. molinae

Fuchsia microphylla

Gaillardia aristata

Galanthus 'Art Nouveau'

Galanthus cilicicus

Galanthus elwesii

Galanthus elwesii 'Lode Star'

Galanthus elwesii 'Mrs Macnamara'

Galanthus elwesii 'Rose Lloyd'

Galanthus elwesii 'Snowfox'

Galanthus elwesii var. monostictus Hiemalis Group

Galanthus 'Farringdon Double'

Galanthus 'Lady Beatrix Stanley'

Galanthus 'Lyn'

Galanthus plicatus 'Florence Baker'

Galanthus plicatus 'Warham'

Geum rivale

Glebionis coronaria

Globularia sarcophylla

Hebe breviracemosa

Hebe 'Majorie Joan'

Hebe salicifolia

Helleborus × hybridus

Helleborus argutifolius

Helleborus foetidus

Helleborus niger

Helleborus purpurascens

Hydrangea 'Ayesha'

Hydrangea macrophylla 'Sir Joseph Banks'

Hypericum lancasteri

Hypericum pseudohenryi

Iberis amara

Iberis sempervirens

Iris unguicularis 'Walter Butt'

Jasminum mesnyi

Jasminum nudiflorum

Lamium album

Lavandula × terophylla

Lavandula dentata var. dentata (grey-leaved form)

Leucojum vernum var. vagneri

Lithodora zahnii

Lobelia tupa

Lonicera standishii

Mahonia japonica

Mahonia napaulensis

Malva sylvestris var. mauritania

Medicago arborea

Narcissus 'Mary Poppins'

Nicotiana mutabilis

Nigella sativa

Oenanthe pimpinelloides

Ononis hispida subsp. arborescens

Osmanthus decorus

Oxalis articulata

Pandorea jasminoides

Persicaria amplexicaulis

Petasites fragrans

Petrorhagia nanteuilii

Phacelia tanacetifolia

Physalis peruviana

Potentilla alba

Primula × pruhonicensis

Prunus × subhirtella 'Autumnalis Rosea'

Rosa × odorata 'Bengal Crimson'

Rosa chinensis 'Veridiflora'

Rosa 'Mortimer Sackler'

Rosmarinus officinalis

Rosmarinus officinalis 'Jekka's Blue'

Rosmarinus officinalis 'Prostratus'

Rubus fruticosus 'Fantasia'

Ruta graveolens

Salvia 'Amistad'

Salvia atrocyanea

Salvia confertiflora

Salvia corrugata

Salvia elegans 'Honey Melon'

Salvia gesneriiflora

Salvia guaranitica ‘Black and Bloom’

Salvia guaranitica 'Black and Blue'

Salvia haenkei 'Prawn Chorus'

Salvia involucrata

Salvia leucantha

Salvia 'Phyllis' Fancy'

Salvia stachydifolia

Santolina magonica

Sarcococca confusa

Sarcococca hookeriana var. hookeriana

Sarcococca ruscifolia var. ruscifolia

Scabiosa minoana subsp. minoana

Scrophularia lucida

Senna corymbosa

Silene bourgaei

Silene vulgaris subsp. suffrutescens

Sinapidendron angustifolium

Solanum luteum

Tagetes lemmonii

Tanacetum parthenium

Tricyrtis lasiocarpa

Tulbaghia acutiloba

Tulbaghia violacea

Viburnum tinus 'Eve Price'

Vinca difformis

Vinca major

Westringia fruticosa

Thursday, I collected my three weeks of antibiotics and I was amazed how quickly they started working. I’m still not hungry and it’s a bit painful to eat; however, there are definite signs that all is improving. Hopefully I’ve also lost a few of those kilos I wanted to loose.

Most of the team was back at work Friday and of course we finished at 13.00. I met Susie and Luis for lunch in Duke of York Square. Then I headed home for a few hours before heading back into town to 606 Club to list to Kat Eaton. I always enjoy my evenings at 606 with Maarten, Mark, Mike and Mike.

I worked this weekend and started auditing our seed bank material.

Thankfully the antibiotics are kicking in and I’m starting to feel alive again. I was hungry for the first time in over three weeks today.

I’ve been very good about studying French for an hour to an hour and a half every day...I hope I can keep that going. I also have time to do some non-book club reading so I’m going to read Lawrence in Arabia by Scott Anderson. It’s been a while since I’ve read a good book about adventures in that part of the world. I like to read Wilfred Thesinger, and I have his book The Marsh Arabs in my to read pile.

Plant of the week

Solanaceae Solandra maxima (Moc. & Sessé ex Dunal) P.S.Green

common name(s) - chalice vine, golden chalice vine, cup of gold vine; Spanish: capa de oro synonym(s) - Datura maxima Moc. & Sessé ex Dunal; Datura maxima Sessé & Moc. [Illegitimate]; Solandra hartwegii C.F. Ball; Solandra nitida Zuccagni; Solandra selerae Dammer ex Loes. conservation rating - none native to - Central America to Colombia location - glasshouse four, accession 2016-0362 leaves - leathery green, elliptical to 150mm flowers - fragrant at night (which attracts pollinating bats), bell-shaped, yellow to orange with purple stripes in the middle of every petal, there are five petals, to 200mm long; fruits, rarely seen in cultivation, are round berries, about 35mm in diameter habit - perennial evergreen shrubby climber, liana, to 200m long habitat - dry-to-moist forests in open areas from 1,300m to 2,600m in altitude pests - no information found disease - generally disease-free hardiness - to 1ºC (H3) soil - humus rich soils with a good layer of mulch to help retain moisture sun - full sun propagation - stem cuttings in summer, rooted with bottom heat pruning - responds well to hard pruning which should be done in early winter nomenclature - Solanaceae - solanum - comforter, an ancient Latin name in Pliny; Solandra - to honour 18th century Swedish botanist, Daniel Carlsson Solander FRS (1736-82) who was one of Linnaeus' favourite students and best friend of Sir Joseph Banks and in 1768 Solander embarked with Banks on Captain James Cook's travels around the world on the HMS Endeavour.; maxima - largest, greatest, superlative of magnus NB - extract from this species is said to be used for its hallucinogenic effects in ceremonies of the Huichol people from Mexico. It apparently pre-dates the similar use of peyote cactus in ceremonies

References, bibliography:

Eden Project [online] https://www.edenproject.com/learn/for-everyone/plant-profiles/golden-chalice-vine [4 Jan 20]

GardensOnline [online] https://www.gardensonline.com.au/GardenShed/PlantFinder/Show_1591.aspx [4 Jan 20]

Gledhill, David, (2008) “The Names of Plants”, fourth edition; Cambridge University Press; ISBN: 978-0-52168-553-5

Grow Plants [online] https://www.growplants.org/growing/solandra-maxima [4 Jan 20]

IUCN [online] http://www.iucnredlist.org/search [4 Jan 20]

Plant List, The [online] http://www.theplantlist.org/tpl1.1/record/kew-2579596 [4 Jan 20]

Plants of the World [online] http://plantsoftheworldonline.org/taxon/urn:lsid:ipni.org:names:818078-1 [4 Jan 20]

San Marcos Growers [online] https://www.smgrowers.com/products/plants/plantdisplay.asp?plant_id=1508 [2 Jan 20]

Tropicals [online] https://toptropicals.com/catalog/uid/SOLANDRA_MAXIMA.htm [4 Jan 20]

#Solandra maxima #New Year Flowers

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maxwellyjordan · 4 years

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Tuesday round-up

This morning brings oral argument in two cases. The first is Maine Community Health Options v. United States, which stems from the federal government’s failure to fully reimburse health insurance companies for losses created as a result of the Affordable Care Act. Amy Howe previewed the case for this blog, in a post that first appeared at Howe on the Court. Gabrielle Kanter and Joseph Grosser offer a preview at Cornell Law School’s Legal Information Institute. The second case today is Holguin-Hernandez v. United States, in which the court will decide whether and how a criminal defendant must formally object to his sentence to preserve an objection to the length of the sentence on appeal. This blog’s preview came from Rory Little, and Cornell’s comes from Basem Besada and Kaitlyn Marasi.

Yesterday morning the justices issued additional orders from last Friday’s conference, adding no cases to their merits docket and asking for the views of the solicitor general in one case. Amy Howe covers the order list for this blog, in a post that first appeared at Howe on the Court. Greg Stohr reports for Bloomberg that the court “asked the Trump administration for advice on an effort by the liquidator of Bernard Madoff’s firm to recoup $3 billion that was transferred overseas.” Robert Barnes reports for The Washington Post (subscription required) that the court announced that it “will not review a Kentucky law that requires doctors who perform abortions to give a detailed description of the fetus’s development while the woman is shown an ultrasound image, even if she objects.” For The Wall Street Journal (subscription required), Jess Bravin reports that “[t]he one-line order, refusing to review a lower court decision, created no nationwide precedent, but suggests that states may be gaining greater leeway in regulating women’s rights to end their pregnancies.”

At the Daily Caller, Kevin Daley reports that the justices “declined to grant a bold and unusual request … in a case involving Arizona’s lawsuit against Purdue Pharma L.P. and the billionaire Sackler family for their complicity in the opioid crisis.” For Capitol Media Services (via Tucson.com), Howard Fischer reports that the case centered on “Arizona Attorney General Mark Brnovich’s claim that the Sackler family that owns Purdue Pharma has been looting the company of assets — assets he said need to be preserved should Arizona win a lawsuit against the company pending in Pima County Superior Court.” According to Pamela King at Greenwire (subscription required), the justices also “will not take up a case concerning state water quality certifications for pipelines, dams and other federally permitted projects.”

Briefly:

At Bloomberg Law, Kimberly Robinson reports that after yesterday’s argument in immigration case Guerrero-Lasprilla v. Barr, the court seemed likely “to rule in favor of immigrants seeking to get federal courts to take a second look at their deportations,” in a case that “could have implications for those deported years, or even decades ago.”

At The Atlantic, Garrett Epps argues that three of the “high-profile conservative-agenda cases on the Court’s docket this term,” including the Second Amendment case that was argued last week, “aim at achieving long-sought goals of the right, and all seem … like ginned-up disputes designed to elicit broad right-wing opinions on facts that do not hold up under close examination.”

For The New York Times, Adam Liptak looks at a cert petition involving a lower-court ruling that “alarm[ed] civil rights lawyers and experts on free speech” by reviving a lawsuit filed against a Black Lives Matter activist by a Louisiana police officer injured by an unidentified demonstrator.

At Crime & Consequences, Kent Scheidegger remarks that Friday’s order denying the federal government’s request to move forward immediately with federal executions “may have been a Pyrrhic victory,” because several justices signaled their “impatience” at the prospect of delay in the case; the court of appeals yesterday set an expedited briefing schedule, with oral argument on January 15.

Speakeasy Ideas’ The Law with D.K. Williams podcast presents an interview with Micheal Baca, whose challenge to a Colorado law that requires electors to vote for specific standards gave rise to a cert petition pending in the Supreme Court.

In the latest episode of The World and Everything In It (podcast), Mary Reichard discusses the oral arguments in New York State Rifle & Pistol Association Inc. v. City of New York, New York, a challenge to New York City’s since-amended limits on transporting personal firearms, bankruptcy case Ritzen Group Inc. v. Jackson Masonry, LLC, and County of Maui, Hawaii v. Hawaii Wildlife Fund, which asks whether the Clean Water Act covers pollution that moves through groundwater before reaching a federal waterway [Disclosure: Goldstein & Russell, P.C., whose attorneys contribute to this blog in various capacities, is counsel on an amicus brief in support of the respondents in County of Maui.]

We rely on our readers to send us links for our round-up. If you have or know of a recent (published in the last two or three days) article, post, podcast or op-ed relating to the Supreme Court that you’d like us to consider for inclusion in the round-up, please send it to roundup [at] scotusblog.com. Thank you!

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#law #justice

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azveille · 5 years

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J&J makes last, best case to head off Oklahoma opioids trial

(Reuters) - The state of Oklahoma is scheduled to go to trial at the end of May with claims that Johnson & Johnson and Teva are responsible for sparking a crisis of opioid abuse that, according to Oklahoma, will cost $10 billion to address. The trial, in which Oklahoma AG Mike Hunter will assert the single theory that deceptive opioid marketing created a public nuisance of drug abuse, will be heard by Oklahoma state court judge Thad Balkman rather than a jury. The trial will be the first courtroom test of pharmaceutical companies’ liability for widespread abuse of opiates – a crisis that could cost hundreds of billions of dollars to abate nationwide.

In a final attempt to end the litigation before trial, Johnson & Johnson and its subsidiaries filed a motion for summary judgment on Wednesday. (The Teva defendants, which deny Oklahoma’s allegations, also moved for summary judgment but their motion is not publicly available and a company representative did not respond to my request for a redacted version of Teva’s brief.)

Want more On the Case? Listen to the On the Case podcast.

As I’ll explain, J&J and its lawyers from Odom Sparks & Jones and O’Melveny & Myerslay out their case for why Oklahoma’s nuisance theory is a contortion of state law and a violation of due process. They also say the state and its outside counsel from Nix Patterson and Whitten Burrage have not even linked J&J’s marketing of its government-approved products to unwarranted prescriptions for painkillers, let alone to abuse of illegal opiates.

They are cogent, forceful legal arguments. But the opioid litigation, like the tobacco litigation of the 1990s, is affected by factors other than the merits of defendants’ legal arguments.

Politics, as I’ve written, inevitably shapes litigation brought, in many instances, by elected officials and overseen by elected judges. And the impact of opioid abuse, as U.S. District Judge Dan Polster of Cleveland wrote last December, has been profound. “The pain, death and heartache (the opioid epidemic) has wrought cannot be overstated,” Polster wrote in a decision refusing to dismiss bellwether claims in the multidistrict litigation consolidating claims by more than 1,500 city and counties governments.

Such extra-merits considerations seem to be a big reason why the Sackler family, which controls OxyContin maker Purdue Pharma is now publicly pushing for a global settlement of the more than 2,000 suits against the company and 200 cases against individual family members. Sackler lawyer Mary Jo White of Debevoise & Plimptontold me that her clients decided they’d rather spend their money addressing opioid abuse than paying lawyers. Last month, Purdue and the Sacklers became the first opioid defendants to settle claims in the Oklahoma litigation, agreeing to pay $270 million – including $75 million from members of the Sackler family – to resolve the AG’s case.

All of this is to say that I doubt Judge Balkman will grant J&J’s motion for summary judgment. I expect Oklahoma’s case to go to trial as scheduled next month. J&J representatives declined to comment on my assessment of the company’s low odds of winning on summary judgment.

But trial courts, of course, don’t have the last word on novel legal theories. Many of the citations in J&J’s brief are to appellate rulings that reined in previous attempts to use nuisance law to address social issues like gun violence, climate change and methamphetamine abuse. In that regard, J&J’s brief is a preview of arguments that opioid defendants will someday make before state and federal appeals courts if they can’t shut down the litigation at the trial level – and don’t reach global deals along the way.

J&J’s overarching legal argument contends that the state is misusing nuisance law, which Oklahoma precedent reserves for disputes over actions that affect property. “The state attempts to shoehorn a sprawling case about marketing claims, drug addiction and epidemiology into the narrow and well-defined boundaries of a tort that ‘arises where a person uses his own property in such a manner as to cause injury to the property of another,’” the J&J brief said.

Nor can Oklahoma, according to J&J, tie the company’s actions to an explosion in illegal opiate use. J&J argued that the state has offered no proof that any Oklahoma doctor was induced by J&J marketing to write an unwarranted prescription. The state has even failed, according to J&J, to introduce statistical evidence to show Oklahoma physicians were lulled by allegedly misleading marketing. “With no individualized proof, and no method of measuring any impact from (J&J’s) allegedly wrongful conduct,” the brief said, “the state is left with empty assertions that (J&J’s) allegedly misleading statements must have been a cause of the opioid epidemic. No court has ever accepted such slapdash evidence on the causal effects of drug marketing.”

As a factual matter, J&J’s brief argued, its opioid products – a fentanyl patch and two versions of a pill called Nucynta – occupied less than half of one percent of the market for prescription opioids in Oklahoma. Neither, the company said, was widely abused. (Oklahoma’s suit also cites two J&J subsidiaries that produce active ingredients for opiates but Johnson & Johnson argues that it cannot be liable for the government-regulated production of ingredients used in drugs it did not make or sell.)

J&J stopped marketing the fentanyl patch in 2007 and ceased all marketing of opioids in 2015, when it sold the Nucynta franchise. It argues in its summary judgment brief that it is absurd for Oklahoma to attempt to offload the entire cost of dealing with statewide opioid abuse over the next 30 years on a company that held a tiny market share, stopped marketing the drugs years ago and cannot be tied to a rise in unwarranted prescriptions for painkillers. Oklahoma’s theory, according to J&J, ignores the intervening links in the chain from its marketing of government-approved prescription painkillers to the rise of Mexican and Chinese drug cartels – including, J&J argued, the failure of state and federal regulators to shut down prescription opiate abuse years ago.

“As a manufacturer of highly regulated medications illegal to possess without a prescription, (J&J) is just one small part of a broader regulatory and distribution ecosystem,” the summary judgment brief said. “It relies on other participants, including government authorities, to take reasonable and necessary steps….When those entities abdicate their duties, (J&J) cannot be held liable for the resulting addiction and overdoses.”

In an email statement, Alex Gerszewski, a spokesman for the Oklahoma AG, said Johnson & Johnson’s summary judgment motion, like the company’s 23 just-filed motions to exclude state evidence, is an attempt to delay accountability.

“Oklahoma’s public nuisance law predates statehood, and it has historically been used for those rare times when a company refuses to clean up a mess it has created,” Gerszewski said. “Johnson & Johnson’s argument, incredibly, is because the Oklahoma public nuisance law has never been applied to the most profound public health crisis in our state’s history it doesn’t apply. Really? Beginning on May 28, the state will show Oklahomans and the nation just how Johnson & Johnson ... played a key role in creating the opioid crisis.”

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nofomoartworld · 7 years

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Hyperallergic: Art Movements

Chuck Welch, “Ray Johnson Nothing Soup” (2017), can sculpture, 18 x 3 1/2 x 14 (photo by Chuck Welch)

Art Movements is a weekly collection of news, developments, and stirrings in the art world. Subscribe to receive these posts as a weekly newsletter.

The State Department announced that the US will withdraw from UNESCO on December 31, 2018, citing “mounting arrears, […] the need for fundamental reform in the organization, and continuing anti-Israel bias.”

“Salvator Mundi” (c. 1490-1519) the only work attributed to Leonardo da Vinci that remains in private hands, is to be sold at Christie’s on November 15. The painting is estimated to fetch $100 million.

Marina Abramović abandoned plans to open the Marina Abramović Institute (MAI). The artist stated that she is unable to raise the purported $31 million required to convert a space in upstate New York during a talk at the Serpentine Sackler Gallery last week. A highly publicized Kickstarter campaign raised over $661,000 for the project, which is described on its official website as a site to “serve as the legacy of Marina Abramović,” explore performance, and “encourage collaboration between the arts, science, and the humanities.” According to Abramović, the Kickstarter funds were used to pay architect Rem Koolhaas for a preliminary design of the space.

A number of Puerto Rican arts organizations — including the Museo de Arte Contemporáneo de Puerto Rico, Instituto de Cultura Puertorriqueña, and Beta-Local — are pooling their resources and offering free public programs to support those impacted by Hurricane Maria.

The Crackerjack Art Of Chuck Welch Networks The FeMail XX Conspiracy opened at the Christine Price Gallery at Castleton University, Vermont. The exhibition is a collaboration between artists Chuck Welch (aka the Crackerjack Kid) and Tara Verheide (aka Sinclair Scripa), and includes mail art solicited in response to the topics of “Women as Scientific Artists” and “Networked Art as a Global Conspiracy.”

Harland Miller, “Who Cares Wins” (2017), silkscreen print, hand finished with pencil and oil paint, 58 1/2 x 48 inches (courtesy Sotheby’s)

Art for Grenfell, a charity auction for those affected by the Grenfell Tower fire, will be held at Sotheby’s on October 16. The sale includes works by Phyllida Barlow, Jake & Dinos Chapman, Tacita Dean, Isaac Julien, Harland Miller, and Rachel Whiteread.

Philippe Méaille will withdraw his loan of over 500 artworks to the Barcelona Museum of Contemporary Art (MACBA) due to “the political instability in Catalonia.”

Tristram Hunt, the director of the Victoria and Albert Museum, called for the complete pedestrianisation of London’s Exhibition Road. A 47-year-old mini-cab driver ploughed into pedestrians outside the Natural History Museum last Saturday, injuring 11 people and sparking fears of a terrorist incident.

Both UK and non-UK citizens and organizations have until December 29 to respond to a public consultation regarding a proposed ban on UK sales of ivory. The 12 week consultation was announced by environment secretary Michael Gove.

D. Neal Bremer, the former COO of the Grand Rapids Art Museum, filed a whistleblower protection lawsuit against the museum after alleging widespread misuse of donor-restricted funds.

Semiotext(e) cancelled an event with arts organization 356 Mission in Los Angeles after the anti-gentrification group Defend Boyle Heights vowed to disrupt it.

Italian culture minister, Dario Franceschini, confirmed plans to introduce a fee — thought to be around €3 (~$3.50) — for entry to the Pantheon in Rome.

New Architecture Writers, a free program for BAME (black, Asian, and minority ethnic) young people aspiring to work in architecture and design journalism, was launched in London.

Dale Chihuly‘s “Rose Crystal Tower,” a 31-foot tall sculpture composed of composed of Polyvitro crystals and steel, was unveiled in Union Square Park, New York.

Transactions

David Hockney, “15 Canvas Study of the Grand Canyon” (1998), oil on canvas, 66 1/2 x 65 1/2 inches (courtesy Sotheby’s)

David Hockney’s “15 Canvas Study of the Grand Canyon” (1998) was sold at Sotheby’s evening sale of contemporary art for $7,949,576, the second highest price paid for the artist at auction. The same sale saw records set for Josef Albers, Thierry De Cordier, and Alex Da Corte.

The Smithsonian’s Archives of American Art acquired the 1975 to 2015 records of Artists Talk on Art (ATOA). The archive includes recordings of just under 1,000 panel discussions and screenings held in New York City.

The Ullens Center for Contemporary Art in Beijing has been sold to a group of investors led by Lunar Capital, a private equity group in Shanghai.

The Skowhegan School of Painting and Sculpture received a $250,000 gift from the Helen Frankenthaler Foundation.

Rose-Marie and Eijk van Otterloo and Susan and Matthew Weatherbie committed to donating their collections of 17th-century Dutch and Flemish art to the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston — the largest donation of European art in the museum’s history.

A double-sided sketch by Alberto Giacometti sold for £130,000 (~$172,000) at Cheffins auction house. The work was recovered from the estate of the late antiques dealer Eila Grahame earlier this year [via email announcement].

The Frans Hals Museum acquired Jan Porcellis’s “Ships in a Storm” (c. 1618/22).

Jan Porcellis, “Ships in a Storm” (c. 1618/22), oil on panel (courtesy Frans Hals Museum, Haarlem)

Transitions

The International Center of Photography is to relocate to Essex Crossing a year after it moved into a $23.5 million exhibition space on the Bowery.

The New Museum selected Rem Koolhaas and Shohei Shigematsu to design an expansion using an adjacent property at 231 Bowery.

Ludwig Spaenle, the Bavarian Minister of Culture, announced the appointment of Stefan Gros as commercial managing director of the Haus der Kunst in Munich. Gros is co-direct the museum with Okwui Enwezor in a bid to deal with the institution’s financial deficit.

Tim Whalen was elected chair of the National Trust for Historic Preservation’s board of trustees.

Jorrit Britschgi was appointed executive director of the Rubin Museum of Art.

Alistair Hudson was appointed director of the Manchester Art Gallery and the Whitworth.

Julian Cox was appointed chief curator and deputy director of the Art Gallery of Ontario.

Rita S. Craig was appointed chief financial officer at the Oklahoma City Museum of Art.

Jessica Kreps was made a partner at Lehmann Maupin gallery.

The family of S.I. Newhouse Jr. appointed Tobias Meyer to advise them on the family’s art collection.

Laurie Anderson, television producer Laura Michalchyshyn, and writer Tanya Selvaratnam, launched The Federation, an organization committed to combatting xenophobia and the threatened closing of physical borders.

Tate St Ives opened its new £20 million (~$26.5 million) extension.

White Columns will relocate to 91 Horatio Street next spring.

Proxyco, a new gallery with a focus on emerging and mid-career artists from Latin America, will open 168 Suffolk Street on the Lower East Side next month.

Mary Weatherford is now represented by Gagosian gallery.

Landon Met is now represented by Sean Kelly Gallery.

Accolades

Trevor Paglen, “Code Names of the Surveillance State” (2014), video (courtesy Altman Siegel Gallery)

The John D. and Catherine T. MacArthur Foundation announced its 2017 MacArthur ‘Genius’ Grant winners. The recipients include Dawoud Bey, Njideka Akunyili Crosby, Taylor Mac, and Trevor Paglen.

ArtPrize 9 announced its award winners. The Public Vote Grand Prize was awarded to Richard Schlatter for his work “A. Lincoln,” a portrait of the US president composed of over 24,ooo pennies. Seitu Jones received the Juried Grand Prize for “The Heartside Community Meal,” an installation in which 250 neighbors dined together at a 300-foot table.

Isa Genzken received the 2017 Goslarer Kaiserring award.

Kader Attia was awarded the 2017 Joan Miró Prize.

The Bessies announced the recipients of the 2017 New York Dance and Performance Awards.

Queer|Art announced the eleven Fellows accepted for its 2017–2018 Queer|Art|Mentorship program.

Obituaries

The London Eye (via Wikipedia)

Holly Block (1958–2017), executive director of the Bronx Museum of the Arts.

Nora Johnson (1933–2017), novelist and memoirist. Best known for The World of Henry Orient (1958).

Hervé Léger (1957–2017), fashion designer.

David Marks (1952–2017), architect. Best known as the designer of the London Eye.

Ralphie May (1972–2017), comedian.

Bunny Sigler (1941–2017), singer, songwriter, and producer.

Jim Walrod (1961–2017), design consultant and expert in mid-century design.

Anne Wiazemsky (1947–2017), novelist and New Wave actress. Wife of Jean-Luc Godard.

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mariesdameron · 4 years

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“I’m pretty sure (you’re/she’s/he’s/they’re) my soulmate” with flip please 🥺 i’m such a slut for some soft flip 🥰 you’re amazing!! <3

Word count: 1,050 (Of PURE SAPPINESS)

You had been looking forward to your date all week. It was your six month anniversary with Flip. The time had flown by in a flurry of cuddles on the couch, aggressive kisses, thigh riding in the interrogation room at the precinct, and gentle caresses on Sunday mornings.

You had spent the day primping yourself for the night. You got your hair done up in a charming braided style and bought yourself a brand new dress in Flip's favorite color. You finished applying the last touches of lipstick. You smiled to yourself; you knew that it would end up all over Flip's face. You heard the knock at the door and did a once over in the mirror. You felt your heart pound against your chest as you stepped to turn the knob.

Flip stood propped on the door frame. He beamed at the sight of you. He looked so handsome in form-fitting jeans and a black tee-shirt, your cheeks flushed. Slowly, the realization that you were overdressed crept over you. Before you could get out that you needed to change, Flip's mouth was on yours, his large hands gripping your face.

You were engulfed by the scent of peppermint from his gum and the musk of his cologne that you know that he sprayed in the truck to conceal the cigarette smoke. He knew you hated his smoking. You pushed gently against his broad chest. Slowing his kiss, he tugged your lower lip with his teeth before letting you go.

"I need to change." You muttered, annoyed. Flip rubbed his hands up and down your bare arms, shaking his head.

"No, you look beautiful. It's fine." Flip dipped down and brushed a kiss to your forehead. You stepped backward, Flip chuckled as he snatched you by the hips. "Let's go, sweetheart. Get in the truck, and I'll grab your purse." Flip stepped around you and scooted you out the door, slapping your ass as he did. Yelping, you sped to the vehicle.

"Flip, where are we going? Am I going to feel like an idiot?" You questioned, worried as Flip got into the truck and started the engine. A tiny smirk spread over his lips.

"Gorgeous, I am not telling you. You just sit there nice and quiet, looking pretty." He simpered exactly as you struck him in the shoulder, which only intensified his laughter.

"Flip fucking Zimmerman." You protested at him and crossed your arms. Flip stroked your thigh.

"You are going to get spanked later for that filthy mouth if you keep that up." You hugged your legs tightly together and playfully slapped him away. The idea of you bent over Flip's lap, his large, calloused hands slapping your ass raw, was making you flustered. Flip's eyebrows raised in amusement. He knew precisely the effect he had over you and the promise of him punishing you.

You sat in comfortable silence, hand in hand, listening to the radio. Flip squeezed your hand. "We are here." He chimed, stopping the truck, a sweet smile on his face. Rubbing the back of his neck affectionately, you were enamored; you had never ever seen Flip this happy. You looked around and realized that you were enclosed in trees. You looked down at the flats on your feet. Was he going to make you hike through the freaking woods?

Flip jumped out and started rummaging in the back. You opened the door, Flip yelled out to you. "Don't you go running off. I'll be right there to get you." You leaned back into the seat. You had no plans of trying to go anywhere, it was pitch black outside, and the only sounds were the symphony of crickets hiding in the dark.

Flip materialized in front of you startlingly, causing you to yell. Chuckling, he put his hand over your mouth and leaned forward, his tone suddenly deep, brassy. "No one will hear you scream out here, beautiful." Your eyes snapped to him as he kissed your cheek. Letting go of your mouth, he pressed his lips to yours. You felt his hands coil around your waist, Flip trailed his kisses to the curve of your throat before lifting you up into his arms.

Shivers ran up your neck as Flip continued to kiss and nibble at you. Carefully, he sat you in the truck bed. Confused, you looked back and saw that he had lain out blankets, a small battery-operated lantern, and a mini cooler. Flip jumped in behind you and huddled amongst the scattered pillows. He motioned for you to crawl to him. You nestled under the crook of his arm, his free arm swung around you, handing you a beer. Flip tapped his bottle to yours. "Happy Anniversary, beautiful." He hummed into your hair, pressing a kiss to your head.

"Zimmerman, you are such a sweet man." Flip took a generous swig of his beer before setting down the bottle, tenderly, he took your face in his hand.

"Don't tell anybody..." He smirked and brushed a kiss to your lips. Running, his hand through his black waves, he cleared his throat. Flip's face was wonderfully draped in shadows from the lantern's faint glow. You instinctively ran your fingers down his cheek, resting at his chin.

"Flip Zimmerman with nothing to say?" You joked, giving him a little squeeze.

"I'm pretty sure you're my soulmate." Flip stammered out, his body tensed against you as his words fell out of his mouth. "I don't even know if I believe in that shit, but if it's true, then you're it." You froze; you knew how you felt about Flip. You were still figuring him out. He was soft and gentle with you yet noticeably guarded. Neither one of you had brought up the conversation of feelings. Things had grown between the two of you, smoothly and with little thought. "Ronnie was going on about it at the station, and it made sense." Flip continued. A rush of adrenaline spread over you.

"I love you." You burst in Flip's face, you went to proceed, but Flip stopped you with his mouth. Pivoting your body, you straddled his lap, while your fingers moved in his hair. Flip's hands drilled into your hips, urging you harder into him. Abruptly, Flip wrenched you back, breathlessly, he murmured.

"I love you."

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@sydneyssmut Thank you for the request and love! xoxo!

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#Flip Zimmerman x reader #Flip Zimmerman #Adam Driver #Fanfiction #Marie Sackler Responds #Fluff #soft #Reader Request #sydneyssmut

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