#Ashleigh Mills

[askrigg21]

Born in Rotherham, forged in Italy

Livio and Ashleigh NOT every ristorante or trattoria you see is “Cento per cento italiano” – totally authentic. So many nationalities have seen the lucrative potential of pizza and pasta and jumped on the bandwagon. But it takes more than a tin of tomatoes and shake of oregano to produce food a momma or a nonna would cook. So catch the chef at Nonna’s in Stag, Rotherham, hear an accent as…

[missfisherandjack]

Dot: “Was Constable Collins there, Miss?”

Phryne: “Yes, Dot. Dashing as ever.”

Miss Fisher’s Murder Mysteries (2012-2015) ↳ 1x03 The Green Mill Murder

[yeniyeniseyler]

Kylie Minogue feat. Bebe Rexha & Tove Lo - My Oh My (Video Klip)

Kylie Minogue, Bebe Rexha ve Tove Lo‘nun Kylie Minogue/Darenote etiketiyle 26 Temmuz 2024’te çıkan ortak çalışmaları “My Oh My”ın video klibi yayınlandı. “My Oh My” şarkısı 5 farklı remixiyle birlikte albüm olarak yayınlandı. Yapımcılığını Matt Craig’in üstlendiği şarkının video klibini Charlie Di Placido yönetti. Klipte dansçılar; Rosalina Holmgaard, Chanelle Anthony, Samuel Garcia, Cindy-Jane…

[blackfemmecharacterdependency]

Black Femme Character Dependency Dark Skin Directory: A

A: The Characters

Abbie Mills | Adelaide Wilson/Red | Agent 355 | Agura Ibaden | Aleesha Morrison | Alexa Brandt | Alexandra Crane | Allison Sawyer | Amanda Stern | Amari Peters | Amber Bennett | Amie Sammuelson Conde | Amina Ramsey | Amy Bellafonte | Anaya Imanu | Angel Dynamite | Angela Abar | Angela Goddard | Angela Moore | Angela Vaughn | Anissa Pierce | Anita Fthe13th | Annalise Keating | Annie Keller | Annie Pearson | Antigone | Aphasia | April Sexton | Apocalypta | Arabella | Artemis | Ashley Banks |  Ashley Collins | August King | Ava Coleman | Aya Al-Rashid | Ayo | Azima Kandie

A: The Entertainers

Aaron Rose Philip | Abbey Mag | Adelayo Adedayo |    Adele Oni | Adella Afadi | Adepero Oduye | Adina Porter |   Aesha Ash | Afton Williamson | Aïssa Maïga | Aja Naomi King |   Ajak Deng | Akiima | Akon Changkou | Alexandra Arboleda | Alfre Woodard |  Aliet Sarah | Alisha White | Allison Dean | Alysia Rogers | Amanda Warren |   Amandla Jahava | Amber Gray |  Amber Riley |  Amber Ruffin | Andrea Bordeaux |   Anesha Bailey | Angel Haze | Angel Theory |   Angelica Joy | Angelica Ross |   Angelique Noire | Angely Gaviria |  Aniela Gumbs |  Ann Ogbomo | Ann Wolfe |     Anna Diop |   Anne Amari |   Antoinette Robertson | Ashleigh Morghan |  Ashleigh Murray |   Ashley Blaine Featherson | Ashley Romans | Asjha Cooper |   Assa Sylla |  Aube Jolicoeur | Aude Legastelois |  Aunjanue Ellis |  Awar Mou | Aweng Chuol | Ayisha Issa |  Ayo Edebiri

At some point, I decided to separate the BFCDDSD by alphabet, and since I’m doing a bit of housekeeping today 8/13/23, I’ma go ahead and drop this “A” placeholder.

As of 11/30/23, I am going to try to finally get these situated.

[palmviewfm]

Thinking of joining! Mw females?

oh  my  goodness, yaaaay !  i'm  so  excited  to  see  your  app  if  you  do  decide  to  apply  !  so  far  our  current  mwf  for  fcs  are:  samantha  logan,  maia  mitchell,  cierra  ramirez,  adria  arjona,  madison  bailey,  rachel  zegler,  sabrina  carpenter,  meg  donnelly,  halle  bailey,  ryan  destiny,  lizeth  selene,  danielle  rose  russell,  kaylee  kaneshiro,  daisy  edgar  jones,  dakota  johnson,  michaela  jae  rodriguez,  emily  browning,  ayo  edebiri,  carla  gugino,  zion  moreno,  anna  lamb,  blu  hunt,  auli'i  cravalho,  hunter  schafer,  zendaya  coleman,  alycia  debnam-carey,  nicola  coughlan,  phoebe  dyvenor,  lyrica okano, lulu antarisksa, olivia holt, virginia gardner, simone  ashley,  vanessa  morgan,  chelsea clark, sara waisglass, antonia gentry, minnie mills, milly alcock, bailee madison, malia pyles , maia reficco, isabella gomez, zaria simone, olivia rodrigo, chandler kinney, whitney peak, vitoria strada, hande ercel, savannah lee smith, natalie alyn lind, renee rapp, sofia  carson,  adeline  rudolph,  tati  gabrielle,  danielle  campbell,  camila  mendes,  brianne howey, indiana evans, liz gillies, victoria justice, ashleigh  murray,  midori francis, angela  sarafyan,  and  dewanda  wise. and  for  counterparts  we'd  love  to  see:  emily  fields,  spencer  hastings,  alison  dilaurentis,  mona  vanderwaal,  aria  montgomery,  peyton  sawyer,  rachel  gatina,  quinn  james,  elena  gilbert,  katherine  pierce,  caroline  forbes,  bonnie  bennett,  cheryl  blossom,  sabrina  spellman,  libby  chessler,  stephanie  tanner,  marcia  brady,  betty  cooper,  veronica  lodge,  meredith  grey,  issa  dee,  jessica  day,  christina  yang,  fleabag,  buffy  summers,  faith  lehane,  jessica  pearson,  elle  woods,  analise  keating,  olive  penderghast,  monica  geller,�� frances  baby  houseman,  betty  rizzo,  sandy  olson,  tracey  turnblad,  joey potter, jen lindley, donna  sheridan,  sophie  sheridan,  claire  standish,  allison  reynolds,  cher  horowitz,  olivia  pope,  bella  swan,  rosalie  hale,  alice  cullen,  esme  cullen,  willow  rosenberg,  grace le domas, georgia miller, blair  waldorf,  serena  van  der  woodsen,  and  georgina  sparks  !

[cptnbandana]

Small Gods

Chapter 1: One Hell of a Morning

Rain bounced off the concrete and asphalt before sweeping the dirt of the city into its endless gutters and storm drains. The sheets of rain doused everything in the great city. Even now, in the small hours of the morning, the rain sloshed around the feet of hurried pedestrians, leaping between puddles in some vain attempt to stay dry. The rain cascaded down from the concrete lip of a parking garage at a point where Chinatown starts to bleed into Little Italy. Detective Ashleigh Reynolds cast a weary eye over the drenched street and managed to stifle a yawn. New York, you could keep it. It seemed that since the city didn’t sleep, she wasn’t allowed to either.

She turned back to the more grisly scene behind her. “Okay, what do we know?” She asked the tired looking forensic tech, who had been watching the handful of uniformed officers that were milling around, trying to not get in the way of his two, equally exhausted looking colleagues that were currently trying to photograph the body.  “Adult Caucasian male, somewhere in his early 30s, no wallet or ID on him and, if I were a bettin’ boy, I’d say the cause of death was blunt force trauma to the back of the head.” Reynolds sniffed. “Stinks of booze in here too,” she wrinkled her nose “And I’d probably say stale vomit.” The technician rolled his eyes, “What tipped you off? Was it the puddle of vomit near the body?” She looked over at him. “No, like, it smells like what you get after you’ve been blackout drunk, gotten home and then spent the rest of the day hanging over the toilet.” The technician raised his eyebrows at her but didn’t comment.

She looked back at the body just in time to see a skinny man with messy blonde hair, a long coat that seemed to be made entirely of pockets, and soft leather boots crouch down beside the body and poke it with a noticeably un-gloved finger. Reynolds put her hand to the Glock 19 on her hip and shouted at him. The man’s head whipped round to look at her, astonishment plain on his face. “You can see me?” his accent was British, but more the kind you’d hear in the south of London rather than on Downton Abbey. As soon as he looked up, the technician next to him yelped and nearly leapt a foot into the air. As the tech lost his balance and fell over, the man took his chance and bolted. Reynolds swore and sprinted after him. His longer legs gave him a clear advantage but she just picked up the pace and kept running. He ducked between two cars and leapt over the railing to the floor below, at street level. Without really thinking, she leapt after him. Luckily, she landed on the roof of a family SUV and was able to jump down to the asphalt without breaking her stride. She saw the perp turn left out of the parking garage and vanish out of sight. She kept running. She caught sight of him slipping past a pair of drunkards that seemed to be making their way back from one hell of a party, judging by the way they were weaving down the street, occasionally bouncing off of streetlights. She ducked past them as her quarry sprinted across the street into an alley. She swore again and chased after him. She reached the mouth of the alleyway as he was about halfway down it. “Stop! NYPD!” she shouted as she drew her handgun. He looked over his shoulder and, at that exact moment, his foot caught on a garbage bag and he went sprawling onto the street. Reynolds jogged over to him, pulling out a set of handcuffs as he tried to disentangle himself from the bag. He gave her a slightly amazed smile as she stood over him. “So you can really see me? Just my luck.” She hauled him up as the two uniformed officers reached the mouth of the alley. “Yeah buddy, I can see you. I can also see that you’re under arrest for interfering with an active crime scene. You have the right to remain silent…”

She rubbed her temple as the coffee brewed in its glass pot. It would taste terrible but, at that time of the morning, bad coffee was the best thing to keep you going. What had that guy meant, “You can see me?” She closed her eyes and kept rubbing. He was probably just some whack-job. Something still niggled at her though. How come the forensic guy hadn’t noticed him, despite the fact the two had been practically sitting in each other’s laps? The coffee machine went ding and she pulled a paper cup off the stack next to the machine.

The door to the interview room clicked softly behind her as she sat down opposite the messy-haired man. He had been handcuffed to the table but was still smiling. “Okay buddy, answer all the questions and we can be out of here in time for breakfast, okay?” He shrugged at her. “Fair enough. I’ve got a couple of questions meself.” She took a sip of the god-awful coffee. “That’s not really how this works.” He just shrugged.

“So, what’s your name?”

“Felix Jones, yourself?”

“You can call me Detective Reynolds. What were you doing at that crime scene?”

“Same thing you were, investigating.”

“Are you a private investigator?”

“Nope, just a nosy bugger.”

“What do you know about the victim?”

“That whatever killed him must have planned it and worn some kind of disposable smock.”

“How the hell do you know that?”

“You don’t sneak up on the God of Hangovers and leave without getting sick all over you.”

“I’m sorry? You don’t sneak up on the what?”

“God of Hangovers. How can you see me?”

“So the guy was a big drinker? Had a lot of hangovers?

“No, the literal god of hangovers. How can you see me?”

“You keep saying that, why do you think I wouldn’t be able to see you?”

At that he grinned, displaying a mouth full of surprisingly white teeth. “Now, Ashleigh, you are asking the right questions.” She froze. “How the hell do you know my name?” The smile didn’t let up. “Call it a lucky guess.” She was suddenly very aware of the enclosed nature of the interview room. “Answer the question,” She said, keeping her voice level, “Why do you think I wouldn’t be able to see you?” He smiled and leant backwards as far as the cuffs would allow. “People can’t normally see me, that forensic bloke didn’t.” She squeezed her eyes shut for a second. Okay, so definitely crazy. On the other hand, the technician had said that he hadn’t noticed the guy until she, herself, had shouted at him. She decided to humour him. “Okay then Mister Jones, why can’t people normally see you? Everyone in this station saw you as I brought you in.” He shrugged. “Well, now that you’ve brought all this attention onto me, they can’t help but see me.” He leant forwards onto the table again. “As far as people not seeing me goes, well, I’m just lucky that way.” She sighed and decided to change tack, but before she could ask another question, Felix had started talking again. “In fact, I’m just a really lucky bloke in general. So lucky, in fact, that I’ve been put into a set of handcuffs that have a slightly flawed lock.”

The open handcuffs flew across the table and smacked Reynolds full in the face, almost causing her to fall out of her chair. By the time she’d regained her senses, the door was already swinging shut behind Felix. She sprang to her feet and wrenched the door open. She rushed out into the corridor. Felix was attempting to walk nonchalantly round the corner away from the bullpen. He spotted her and broke into a run. Amazingly, the only person she passed was the desk sergeant who was only just looking up from her book of crossword puzzles. Felix was already moving at a dead run when she reached the street. She almost lost sight of him as he disappeared down another alley but she managed to gain some ground before catching sight of him leaping down the stairs into the subway. She dashed down after him and reached the bottom of the steps just as the skinny bastard was vaulting over the turnstiles. She didn’t even hesitate to follow, much to the annoyance of the MTA guy standing next to them.

She came out onto the deserted platform to see Felix running along its edge. She drew the Glock and shouted “Freeze!” He slowed to a halt, raised his hands and slowly turned to face her. She approached, keeping her gun trained on him. “Not so lucky now, are ya?” Felix suddenly grinned at her again. “Oh, I dunno, I reckon I’ve got a pinch of luck left.” He took a step backwards, towards the edge of the platform. “Stay where you are!” Reynolds shouted. Felix just kept up that grin, it was starting to really annoy her. “What you’re holding there, is a standard issue, NYPD Glock 19. I’m not an expert in firearms, but that one seems to have a fairly good rep.” He took another step backwards. “Trouble is, you see, they still jam sometimes.” Another step. “Stay where you are! I’m warning you!” Felix’s smile dropped into stony seriousness. “Then shoot me. Cuz, the thing is, if I’m lucky and I mean really lucky, then that gun will jam at just the right moment. So stop with the threats Detective Reynolds and bloody shoot me.” She gritted her teeth. She was beginning to feel the tell-tale rumble of the approaching C train through her feet. “You are under-” Felix jumped and Reynolds fired. Except nothing happened but a loud click. She looked at the weapon in disbelief before mentally shaking herself and charging forwards. Just as she reached the edge of the platform where Felix had been standing, the train roared through the station, forcing her to take a step back from the edge. The cars seemed to rattle past for an age before she could see over the edge of the platform. She looked up and down the tunnels. Felix had vanished.

The bar was dark and a faint aroma of old tobacco and stale beer permeated the air. Sandy sat in the only booth that still had its cushion completely intact. She stared into her mescal and tried not to look at the conspicuously empty stool at the bar. The thick-armed woman behind the bar ran a rag up and down the stained wood without really looking at anything. None of the few other patrons were saying anything. The two guys by the pool table were just leaning on their cues and staring at nothing. An old lady in the corner sat with a dog-end hanging from her lips. Sandy didn’t know any of them by name, or even by reputation, but they all knew that today was not a day for celebrations. Tonight would be for silence. That was the only real wake that their kind got. Felix had told her that, when one of them dies, the closest friends of the deceased might get together and tell a few stories but most of the others would just hold a solemn silence. The stories wouldn’t even be that big, no legends that would stand the test of time, small stories. Somehow, it fit. Sandy wanted to scream, if only to break the silence. She hadn’t even known the dead guy, no-one else in here even knew her by more than her face, and most of them wouldn’t have even noticed that. Still, she felt obligated to stay silent. She knew that the same silence would be echoing throughout the city, in homes and hidden corners, wherever there was one of their kind, the silence would be observed. There weren’t many of them, and news travels fast. They’d all know about the death by now.

The door whispered open on its surprisingly well-oiled hinges. It was a tiny noise, barely audible over the traffic outside, but it was enough. The spell was broken, and sound returned to the dingy room. The two guys standing by the pool table shook themselves from their reverie and began racking up for a new game. The old lady in the corner put the cigarette butt behind her ear and took a pull of something amber-coloured in a short glass. Felix walked in softly and leant on the bar. He and the bartender exchanged a few quiet words and she pulled out a brown glass bottle from somewhere under the bar and handed it to him. He dropped a couple of notes in front of her and wandered over towards Sandy. She took a swig of the slightly unpleasant mescal and narrowed her eyes at Felix. He slumped down into the opposite side of the booth. “You would not believe the day I’ve had.” He pulled a quarter out of his pocket and wedged it against the cap of his beer. There was a small “ping” and the cap flew off. Sandy leant across the table. “Where the hell have you been? I’ve been here for hours!” She said in a raised whisper. Felix waved at her, “Keep your voice down, will you? This is still a very solemn occasion.” She grimaced at him. “Answer the question, nimrod. What the hell took you so long?”

He took a swig of the beer and sighed. “If you must know, I got arrested.” The colour drained from Sandy’s face as he took another swig of beer. “You were what?” she eventually managed. He shrugged, “Look, I went to have a gander at Billy’s body, right?” She nodded, she’d been there when they both found out. Felix had gone charging off and told her to “Check out the dive.” She’d managed to work out that he’d meant this particular dive bar in Hell’s Kitchen and not one of the hundred others that made up New York City nightlife. “So, I get there and it turns out that the filth are already in attendance.” Sandy held up a hand, “Filth?” Felix waved dismissively, “Police, cops. Anyway, I get there and I have a bit of a butchers, see what I can see, right?” She nodded, only really half following what he was saying. She’d noticed that Felix’s use of British slang went up alongside his level of stress. “Soon as I decide to have a nosey at the body, this woman sees me.” Sandy frowned. “Wait a sec, aren’t normal people supposed to, just, not notice us? That’s what you told me.” Felix nodded. “Yeah, that’s how it works. I wasn’t exactly drawing undue attention towards myself, I’ve done things more ostentatious than that before and nobody saw a thing. Bloody hell, the forensics bloke was close enough to me I could tell what bloody aftershave he was wearing!” Sandy held up a hand, “So then, how the hell did she see you?” Felix shrugged and took another drink. “Not a bloody clue. Anyway, she shouts at me, we have a little chase and eventually she collars me. I end up having to sit through enough of an interrogation to realise that she doesn’t know anything about us and then I legged it.” Sandy shook her head. “Unbelievable. How did you get away?” Felix drained the last of the brown beer, “By using up everything I had left, it’s a miracle I didn’t get hit by a train or fall down an open manhole on my way here.”

Felix set the bottle down on the table with a soft thump. He stared at the label for a little while, his brows furrowed. “Sandy, we do have a problem though.” He looked up at her, “Billy was murdered.” She stiffened, “You sure? The guy was a drunk, he could have just fallen and cracked his head open.” Felix shook his head. “No, this was murder. Billy wasn’t a drunk, he was hungover. He was in here all the time but he’s also the only reason why Rosie bothered to stock lemonade and orange juice. Someone killed him, dunno why but it can’t be good.”

“Any suspects?”

“It’s unlikely to be one of us, we don’t kill our own kind. At least, not without a song and dance about it.”

“Any other leads?”

“Not so far, I didn’t get too much of chance to look around before PC plod jumped me.”

“She was a uniform?”

“No, plain clothes. Detective, I think.”

“So you think that a human might have been involved?”

“Possibly.”

“Felix, I might have an idea.” He looked up at her, expectant. His face fell when she told him what it was. “Absolutely not, are you nuts?” Sandy drained her mescal. “It’s our only real shot at a solid lead, what else can we do?” He gave her a dark look. “Fine, but if this goes tits up, I told you so.”

“So, explain it to me again Reynolds. How, the fuck, does some skinny British guy wander onto an active crime scene, almost touching the victim’s body, then nearly manages to escape an NYPD detective on foot, ends up handcuffed to a table in an interrogation room before MANAGING TO ESCAPE AND THEN WALK OUT OF A POLICE PRECINCT?” Reynolds stood ramrod straight as flecks of spittle bounced off her face. Captain O’Hare slumped back against his desk. “Ashleigh, you’ve been here for five years and you’ve done some amazing work.” Reynolds opened her mouth to answer him but O’Hare overrode her. “Look, I understand that everyone has bad days but you’ve got a suspect who appears to have vanished into thin air.” Reynolds opened her mouth again but O’Hare held up a hand. “I saw the tape. You’ve never had a problem in interrogation but that guy wound you round his little finger.” He shook his head. “What the hell’s going on Ash?”

She stood there, hands behind her back, her clipped fingernails digging into her palm. “Sir,” she began, but what was she going to say? I’m sorry sir, but a man believing the victim to be a god somehow slipped out of my cuffs, caused my gun to jam and disappeared into the subway tunnels. She couldn’t think of a quicker way to end up back in department-mandated psychiatric assessment. She just closed her mouth and shrugged. “I don’t really have anything to say sir. I screwed up, big time. It won’t happened again.” O’Hare sighed and sat down behind his desk, leaning back in the old leather swivel chair. “No, I hope it won’t. Go home Reynolds, you’re relieved for the day. Get some sleep and I’ll see you back here tomorrow.” He waved her away before she could protest. “With this, and the falafel incident, I think you need to be taking some time off. Start with today, do some desk duty tomorrow.” He took one look at her sour expression and sighed, “Don’t make me order you, Ashleigh.” Her shoulders slumped as if all the air was being let out of her. She left the captain’s office without another word.

The door softly clicked shut behind her. She didn’t bother with the stand by the door, just dropped her coat where she stood along with her backpack. She walked into the apartment’s small kitchen to find it exactly as she’d left it when she’d stepped out early that morning. Leon’s note was still on the countertop, next to a small pile of unopened mail. He was supposed to be back by now. She checked her phone to find a previously unnoticed text message.

I’m sorry, everything seems to be taking longer than I thought. I think I’m gonna be stuck in Iowa for another couple of days, Sorry!

She smiled, despite herself. Her boyfriend could be a bit of a dolt at times but he always tried to see the best in things. She rolled her head on her shoulders, feeling the bones in her neck crack. She groaned as they popped into place. She headed towards her bathroom, peeling off her shirt as she went. She’d clear up her coat and any of the rest of the mess later, for now, she needed a goddamn shower.

Once under the spray, she pressed her forehead against the bathroom wall. As the scalding water did its best to try and ease the tension from her shoulders, she let the morning's experience wash over her. Had she really seen a man sneak onto a crime scene so stealthily that not even the forensic tech standing next to him had seen him? Had she honestly chased the same man out of a somehow deserted police precinct, only to lose him in the freaking subway tunnels? None of this felt real. She started banging her head gently against the wall. “Stupid, stupid, stupid.” She grumbled. The reports after the falafel incident swam across her vision. Maybe she was starting to crack up, she had been getting a little less sleep than the doctors had told her. She shook her head violently. No, this was just some crazy guy who’d gotten into her head a little. True, she hadn’t been on perfect form today but it was nothing like the falafel incident.

Once out of the shower, and clad in one of Leon’s overlarge old Metallica t-shirts and a pair of sweatpants, she sat on the couch and began trying to persuade her short, occasionally spiky, hair to behave properly. There was the tinny, electric sound of the doorbell and she groaned. Being able to avoid people and wind down was the only real benefit of being stuck here, now she was probably going to have to deal with the slightly pervy old greek guy down the hall asking if she’d seen his cat. A cat that, it turned out, had been dead for nearly four years. She unhooked the chain and began to open the door. “Look, mister Savidas, I haven’t seen your-”

Felix Jones stood in the doorway. He gave her a slightly nervous smile “Hello Detective Reynolds, I need your help.”

[malewifehenrycooldown]

Okay quick killer7 au time / hypothetical situation that really isn't 'canon' to Ashleigh's role in the story.

If Ashleigh was a recruited by the Smith Syndicate she would have a small role as a 'records keeper' - archiving all intel and information obtained by the syndicate be it through informants like Mills or documents picked up through the groups travels. She's supposed to be unassuming in that no one would think she has ties to the Smith Syndicate and that allows her to to interact with ordinary civilians without any dire consequences/blowing cover. This is useful in that it results in gaining on-the-ground intel, it's not always perfect but it can be difference between life and death situations.

If she was part of the Syndicate, I feel like she'd be on mostly good terms with them, aside from maybe Coyote, but that's only because he and Dan are bitter rivals although even then Coyote does realise its the smarter choice to leave Ashleigh alone. The only time they ever really need her help is when they absolutely need some specific piece of intel from her archives, which much like Garcian's suitcase/briefcase, is a (smaller) suitcase albeit an endless one that may or may not lead to it's own pocket dimension(?).

[volatilehqs]

mwf fcs?

Algumas que acho que não citei mas adoraria ver são courtney eaton, ella purnell, adeline rudolph, samantha logan, miya horcher, florence pugh, camila mendes, adria arjona, madison bailey, hannah kepple, liza soberano, lizeth selene, hunter schafer, zion moreno, savannah lee smith, malia pyles, maia reficco, bailee madison, sadie soverall, taylor russell, jaz sinclair, ashleigh murray, rachel zegler, danielle campbell, kaylee kaneshiro, danielle rose russell, kaia gerber, ashley moore, melis sezen, hande ercel, zaria simone, kat mcnamara, cierra ramirez, auli'i cravalho, lana condor, maitreyi ramakrishnan, minnie mills, jane de leon, kathryn bernardo, milly alcock, aisha dee, sasha pieterse, giorgia wingham, blu hunt, anna lambe, marina ruy barbosa, emma mackey, olivia scott welch, kiana madiera, madison iseman, maia mitchell, odeya rush, halston sage, lulu antarisksa, kylie verzosa, emilija baranac, isabella gomez, amber midthunder, simone ashley, humberly gonzalez, phoebe dynevor, kylie bunbury, fiona palomo, alisha boe, amanda arcuri, chelsea clark, antonia gentry, sara waisglass, kathryn newton, gideon aldon e a maravilhosa anya chalotra

[soundslomo]

Ashlee whatson real estate

#Ashlee whatson real estate registration#

Coldwell Banker Real Estate LLC is located at 175 Park Avenue, Madison, NJ 07940.

#Ashlee whatson real estate registration#

The Minnesota registration number for this franchise system is #F3119. Such filing does not constitute approval by the Department of Law. An offering can only be made by a prospectus filed first with the Department of Law of the State of New York. SUCH REGISTRATION DOES NOT CONSTITUTE APPROVAL, RECOMMENDATION OR ENDORSEMENT BY THE COMMISSIONER OF CORPORATIONS NOR A FINDING BY THE COMMISSIONER THAT THE INFORMATION PROVIDED HEREIN IS TRUE, COMPLETE AND NOT MISLEADING. THESE FRANCHISES HAVE BEEN REGISTERED UNDER THE FRANCHISE INVESTMENT LAW OF THE STATE OF CALIFORNIA. Franchise offerings made only by a Franchise Disclosure Document. Contact Ashley Watson, e-Merge Real Estate Premium on Messenger. This is not intended, and shall not be deemed to constitute, an offer to sell a franchise. Ashley Watson, e-Merge Real Estate Premium. Each franchise is independently owned and operated. The Coldwell Banker® System fully supports the principles of the Fair Housing Act and the Equal Opportunity Act. Novak has over 20 years of real estate experience in asset management, acquisitions, dispositions, development, and construction. Coldwell Banker® and the Coldwell Banker logos are trademarks of Coldwell Banker Real Estate LLC. Novak is responsible for the firms overall operations including acquisitions and asset management. Director, MSc Islamic Finance Programme.©2022 Coldwell Bankerd. Professor of Middle Eastern and Islamic Political Economy & Finance. Professor of Panayiotis Michael AnthoniszĪssitant Professor (Teaching) in Marketing/Programme Director Durham/EBS John Ashworth Sharjah Chair in Islamic Law and Ercument AksakĪssociate Professor (Teaching) Associate Dean (External Engagement & Nejat Anbarci Professor of Accounting & Islamic Kumushoy AbduraimovaĪssociate Professor in Economics, PhD Deputy Programme Roberta Aguzzoli Professor of Experimental Rebecca StratlingĪssociate Professor in Economics/Finance Associate Dean (Accreditations & Quality Abderrahim TaamoutiĪssistant Professor in Economics and Co-Director Non-Single Honours Anil YildizparlakĪssociate Professor in Economics and Zhichao ZhangĪssistant Professor in International Bo ZhouĪssistant Professor in Durham University Business School, Mill Hill Lane, Durham DH1 3LB: Head of Department, Department of Economics & Finance & Professor in Anamaria NicolaeĪssociate Professor in Economics, Co-Director Non-Single Honours Programme and Deputy Director of the Centre for Banking, Institutions and Development Nikos PaltalidisĪssistant Professor in Anastasiia Parakhoniak��ssistant Professor in Economics and FinanceĪssociate Professor in Economics and Director of MSc Programmes (Economics & Martin RobsonĪssistant Professor (Teaching) Economics and FinanceĪssociate Professor (Reader) in Lucia Sbragia Professor of Behavioural Ashleigh Lawsonĭepartment Administrator (Maternity cover)Īssociate Professor (Teaching) in Accounting, Finance and Economics Director of Education (Economics and John Moffat Professor of Economics and Adriane HornerĪssistant Professor (Teaching) in FinanceĪssociate Professor (Teaching) in Ibrahim InalĪssistant Professor in Claire Kirk (nee Cheseldine)Īssistant Professor (Teaching) in Stacey Lackenby (nee Firth) Professor of Finance and Muhammed-Shahid EbrahimĪssociate Professor (Teaching) in Sara EugeniĪssistant Professor (Teaching) in Angel Hernando-Veciana Professor in Operations & Project Lourdes Wattsĭepartmental Durham University Business School, Green Lane, Durham DH1 3LA:Īssistant Professor in of Accounting, Durham University Business School, Mill Hill Lane, Durham, DH1 3LB:ĭepartmental of Economics and Finance, Durham University Business School, Mill Hill Lane, Durham, DH1 3LB: Senior Departmental Professor Barbara BechterĪssociate Professor in HR Management, Department of Management & Zhibin Lin Reception, Durham University Business School, Mill Hill Lane, Durham DH1 Administration & Operations, Durham University Business School, Mill Hill Lane, Durham DH1 3LB:ĭepartment of Management and Marketing, Durham University Business School, Mill Hill Lane, Durham, DH1 3LB:

[indizombie]

Barty's success is a particularly significant one for First Nations Australians. She is one of only a handful of Indigenous women who are both sporting champions and household names — such as Goolagong Cawley, Cathy Freeman and fellow Olympic medallists Nova Peris and Sam Riley. Australia has always seemed to struggle with celebrating Indigenous sporting success, particularly when it happens overseas. Achievements like Patty Mills's magic 17 points to help secure the 2014 NBA championship for the San Antonio Spurs, Chad Reed's legendary status in motocross and Jesse Williams's 2014 Super Bowl ring have largely flown under the radar. But Barty breaks this mould. She has long cited her Indigenous heritage and relationship with Goolagong Cawley as an inspiration. Yes, it is Barty's tennis success that has made her famous. But it is her grace negotiating Australia's uneasiness with its past and present relationship with our Indigenous peoples that makes her a true champion.

Adele Pavlidis and Marcus Woolombi Waters, 'Ash Barty’s Wimbledon win is an historic moment for Indigenous people and women in sport', ABC

[awkward-sultana]

(Almost) Every Costume Per Episode + Dorothy Williams’s pink blouse in 1x03

[jasminedlowe]

Yes, Black People Swim

Yes, Black People Swim

  I went to work on Tuesday after Labor Day and engaged in the usual banter with my coworkers. We spoke about our weekends, what we did, and about how much we all wanted to be comfortably back in our beds at home. I talked about how I went to the beach before I went on the second hike that I lead as a co-ambassador of Hiker Babes LA Chapter. However, when we circled back onto the subject of…

[palmviewfm]

mwf fcs?

some  more  mwf  faceclaims  that  i'd  really  like  to  see  around  here  would  be  :  courtney  eaton,  ella  purnell,  adeline  rudolph,  samantha  logan,  miya  horcher,  florence  pugh,  camila  mendes,  adria  arjona,  madison  bailey,  hannah  kepple,  liza  soberano,  lizeth  selene,  hunter  schafer,  zion  moreno,  savannah  lee  smith,  malia  pyles,  maia  reficco,  bailee  madison,  sadie  soverall,  taylor  russell,  jaz  sinclair,  ashleigh  murray,  rachel  zegler,  danielle  campbell,  kaylee  kaneshiro,  danielle  rose  russell,  kaia  gerber,  ashley  moore,  melis  sezen,  hande  ercel,  zaria  simone,  kat  mcnamara,  cierra  ramirez,  auli'i  cravalho,  lana  condor,  maitreyi  ramakrishnan,  minnie  mills,  jane  de  leon,  kathryn  bernardo,  milly  alcock,  aisha  dee,  sasha  pieterse,  giorgia  wingham,  blu  hunt,  anna  lambe,  marina  ruy  barbosa,  emma  mackey,  olivia  scott  welch,  kiana  madiera,  madison  iseman,  maia  mitchell,  odeya  rush,  halston  sage,  lulu  antarisksa,  kylie  verzosa,  emilija  baranac,  isabella  gomez,  amber  midthunder,  simone  ashley,  humberly gonzalez, phoebe  dynevor,  kylie  bunbury,  fiona  palomo,  alisha  boe,  amanda  arcuri,  chelsea  clark,  antonia  gentry,  sara  waisglass,  kathryn  newton,  gideon  aldon,  and  anya  chalotra  !

[phrynefisherdaily]

Dorothy Williams: S01E03 The Green Mill Murder

[erikurtz]

THE MAKING OF Season 3: Somehow, They Made A Movie. Now, Can They Survive Making Another One?

Filmmaking is a field that requires as much ego-handling as it does teamwork, and the unanticipated problems that pop up on any production can challenge the temperaments of any cast and crew. In season 3 of the Stream Now TV mockumentary THE MAKING OF, those problems lead to hilarious... http://snobbyrobot.com/2018/08/08/the-making-of-season-3-somehow-they-made-a-movie-now-can-they-survive-making-another-one/

[sprouseharts]

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Happy Birthday, dear Madelaine, Happy Birthday to you ❤