YOU MET HER A YEAR AGO SHE GHOSTED YOU DURING THE YEAR SHE SAID SHE DIDN'T LIKE YOUR RECOMMENDATIONS AND YOU PULL THIS:
let me put it on picture too
BRO WHAT IS YOUR DAMAGE????!!!!!!! URGH YOU ARE SO IN LOVE AND SO NOT READY TO FACE THAT ASPECT OF YOUR LIFE I LOVE YOU I LOVE ANNABETH I LOVE YOU BOTH NEVER GO TO THERAPY
#Repost @gospelartistent
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We are excited about this!!!!! 😱😱😱🔥🔥🙌🏽🙌🏽 Meet the cast of the “The Clark Sisters Biopic”:
Kierra Sheard as: Karen Clark-Sheard
Angela Birchett as: Jacky Clark-Chisholm
Christina Bell as: Twinkie Clark
Raven Goodwin as: Denise Clark-Bradford
Shelea Frazier as: Dorinda Clark-Cole!!
@aldrenmccullar @kierrasheard @christina_official @angelabirchett @ravengoodwin https://ift.tt/2CJVaBg
Over the past few days, 7 black girls have gone missing around the Washington D.C area.
64,000 black women and girls are currently missing in the U.S. Unfortunately, the media is doing a very poor job at reporting this. When I looked up these girl’s names, I only got about 3-4 articles. We need to do more when it comes to black girls being in danger…..We matter, our fears matter, and there is absolutely no reason this isn’t making national news. The least we can do is trying to spread this information throughout the internet.
by clicking the source link you will be redirected to 460 gifs of amber riley in savvy sheldon feels good as hell (2025). ━━━━ this content is available to the entire community. all the gifs were made by me from scratch, so please do not repost or claim as your own. a like/reblog would be much appreciated ! ( this is a public commission ! )
content warning: kissing, dancing, eating, cooking, mild intimacy.
if you like my work, consider buying me a coffee ☕
INVOLVED: Samuel Evans and Sandra Harris.
LOCATION: Samuel's Office- Nashville, Tennessee.
TIME FRAME: Saturday, December 13th, 2025.
NOTES: Samuel is setting up for a meeting on Monday morning.
The mahogany conference table loomed large in the boardroom. Its dark surface, polished to a mirror-like shine. Samuel’s face reflected in the table as he gazed around the boardroom, his eyes scrutinizing every imperfection down to the most minuscule details in each place setting. Samuel rose, his muscles exuding quiet authority as he began circling the table. His green eyes are piercing as they measure each place setting. His finger moves deftly to make small adjustments at each of the 18 seats around the table. He completed this ritualistic round once, then twice, and three times more, his attention unwavering until every setting was aligned and perfectly matched.
“Mr. Evans?’ Samuel's assistant, Sandra Harris, called. Her voice, clipped and urgent, was an unwelcome intruder into the stillness of the boardroom.
With a quick motion, Samuel raised a finger to his lips, signaling for silence. He lowered his hand slowly, continuing his meticulous adjustments for a seventh time, seemingly lost in ritual.
Sandra paused abruptly in the doorway, nearly stumbled over her own feet. Two folders were cradled against her chest, while another was held open in her right hand. Why did he always feel compelled to do this before meetings?
“Sandra, make sure Mr. Gray has room temperature mineral water on Monday,” he murmured, his focus unwavering. “Also, I want Gretchen seated on the same side of the table as Craig, with two people separating them. They feed off each other and will be a distraction during the meeting.” He completed his round of the table, satisfied with the adjustments.
Sandra nodded, a practiced smile appearing on her lips. “Yes, sir. I’ll see it done. Rest assured, Mr. Evans, everything will go smoothly. We all know how important the Luse project is,” She gestured to her notes. “I’ve outlined everyone’s particulars, and I’ll personally oversee all the final preparations.”
Samuel nodded, eyes again sweeping across the pristine boardroom, again; the tension in his shoulders leaked away. He noted the date and time on the 95" Screen along the back wall, surprise flickering across his face. “It's Saturday. Why are you here?”
Reluctantly, stepping closer to Samuel, Sandra replied, “Um… You asked me to gather the property agreements and deeds for your signature. You said it was urgent.” Her voice trailed off, bewildered. “And you needed the numbers for the business you’re looking to acquire from your accountant. You texted and told me you need them today.” She punctuated ‘today’ with air quotes. Scanning the man from hide to toe, "Did you even go home last night?" She asked, releasing he still wore the same blue, button down and slacks from the day before.
Samuel nodded curtly, then turned to the huge scale model of the Voce, a 25-story tower that would become a fixture in the Nashville skyline. It was set to hold 114 luxury hotel suites and 192 for-sale condos. “Right,” he said, absentmindedly straightening the miniature furniture within the display.
Sandra stared at Samuel’s back, her mouth open in shock at the sheer audacity. Inhaling deeply, she pulled on her calm demeanor, moved on. “The numbers from the property at 6111 West Mason Street, Arnold strongly advises against purchasing this business.” She extended the document towards him. “He said the risks are high, while the profit prospects remain moderate at best.”
Samuel halted his adjustments, only half listening to her words. “Yeah, it’s a dud,” he muttered, retrieving a pen from his pocket. He swiftly scrawled his name on the contracts, handing the folder back to Sandra with a sense of finality. “Is that all?”
With a dramatic sigh, Sandra rolled her eyes almost imperceptibly. “Here is the contract for the other property. Do I really need to remind you what Arnold said about this one?”
Samuel remained silent, taking the next folder and affixing his signature to the contract before returning it to her, his expression resolute.
“Fine, I’ll get the paperwork submitted,” Sandra stated as she gathered the files. “After that, I'm heading home. Is there anything else you need, Mr. Evans?”
“Nothing at all, Sandra. Have a good day.” Samuel resumed his task with the model, lost in his world of details.
As she turned to leave, Sandra smiled softly, tucking the folders securely under her arm. She turned back to face Samuel. “By the way, I had the flowers delivered to Ms. Evans, and the diamond bracelet sent to Ms. Miranda.”
“Good,” Samuel interjected, straining to catch every word, he bit his lip before asking her. “Has Miranda called?” Miranda still wasn't speaking to him, and it was starting to annoy him. Jewelry, however, generally soothed her attitude.
With a deep sigh, “No, sir,” Sandra replied, biting her lip.” Sir, I’m going to use one of my freebie comments before I leave.
Samuel quit fussing over the model and turned to face his assistant, hands going into his pockets. All his attention now focused on her, “Speak?”
“Of course, this is none of my business. But if you want your girlfriend to forgive you, maybe you should stop sending flowers to your ex-wife." She said plainly, staring Samuel directly in his eyes, she let her words linger before saying, "Good day, sir.” Sandra turned her back to Samuel, swaying her hips as she walked away, a huge grin on her face. He was being a jerk, and she hoped Miranda kept him in the doghouse. It would serve him right.
Samuel eyed Sandra as she left the room. The woman had nerve; he had to give her that. He thought a laugh erupted from his chest. He wiped a stray tear away from the corner of his eye, shaking his head, and went back to work on his model.
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