#Protective Films Atlanta

[glasslifeatl01]

Your car is not only a means of transportation but also a significant investment. Over time, paint damage caused by everyday use, environmental factors, and minor accidents can significantly impact the resale value of your vehicle. One of the most effective methods to preserve the appearance of your car and maintain its resale value is by applying paint protection film. In this article, we explore the benefits of using paint protection film and how it impacts the resale value of your car. Learn more - https://www.cessautomation.com/the-impact-of-paint-protection-film-on-your-cars-resale-value/

[crimethinc]

For over a year, a powerful social movement has defended the last remaining forest in Atlanta against the city government’s plans to build a giant police training center and corporate film studio.

Yesterday, in a brutal raid involving pepper balls and tear gas, police destroyed the inspiring structures that people have built to protect the forest. Today, they are charging five arrestees with "domestic terrorism" for allegedly participating in forest defense.

This is standard government practice whenever ecological movements threaten business interests. But it is capitalist profiteering, not eco-activists, that is destroying the environment we all depend on and hastening climate change. It is police, not eco-activists, who are terrorizing communities.

Please stand in solidarity with those who are fighting to keep the earth habitable.🖤🏴

Background on the movement to defend the forest:

https://crimethinc.com/CityintheForest

[jonesywrites]

Rick Grimes is a broken man living a half-life, solely focused on exercising his demons through his dark deeds as a part-time P.I., part-time vigilante in Atlanta. Until that is, his focus catches sight of the mysterious, sexy woman who lives next door through his window, Michonne Hawthorne. The more he watches, the harder he falls. When he takes a case that sends him crashing back into his tragic past, he also finds himself crashing through her front door to save her life – then deeper, and deeper into her dark world. There's no turning back from there. As both the case and Rick's obsession with Michonne charge at each other full steam, the two lovers discover that they feed each other's darkest instincts - and they like it. One question remains: Now that Rick and Michonne have emerged from their broken worlds to find love, who's going to stop them from burning their pasts, and all their enemies, to the ground?

________

Y'all, this is a labor of love. I wrote this story years ago, at the peak of my obsession with Rick and Michonne from The Walking Dead. It's based on my favorite film noirs, my favorite femme fatales, and my favorite broody, slightly cray-cray antiheroes. Rick Grimes is one of the best leading men ever written or performed, and for me personally, it is his dark side -- the one he taps into the protect those he loves -- that is one of the sexiest things about him. That, and his undying devotion to and love for Michonne. I wanted to explore that, luxuriate in it if you will, when I started this story.

I also very much wanted to explore Michonne's dark side. She's just as crazy as he is, after all.

Years later, after having been fed soooo well by The Ones Who Live, I've decided to revive the story and rewrite/refresh it for the current times. It's the same Vantage Point you know and love, improved and updated to amplify what I already knew back then: Rick Grimes is nothing if not a man in love. The story is finished and will be posted in batches of five chapters each! Also, there's the sequel I cooked up way back when.

-Kendra

[biggerbetterbat]

WITH YOU | masterlist

Summary: When Glenn brings back a girl, Daryl Dixon doesn't know that she'll be the most important thing in his life. Story about finding soulmate when the world is ending

Daryl Dixon x reader!oc (season 1-?)

General Warnings: adult language/content, violence, descriptions of blood/injury, characters deaths, typical TWD themes. It will follow the plotline - maybe slightly different at some points. There will be plotlines and dialogue from the show. There will be descriptions of reader and her character, because it's more of fanfiction.

DAYLIGHT ON WATTPAD

"Cause when you're gone, I've lost myself away And I've never wanted to feel so wrong When I'm in love with you"

Marissa&EMO 365 Days

PART 1

ACT 1: ATLANTA

[1] SHATTERED DREAMS

[2] THE DAY THAT WORLD WENT TO SHIT

[3] HOPE CALLED GLENN RHEE

[4] THANK GOD DARYL DIXON IS NOT A WALKER

[5] THIS IS NOT A SUMMER CAMP

[6] HELICOPTER BOY

[7] OPERATION MERLE, OPERATION LAUNDRY

[8] DIFFERENT OPINION

[9] THE END OF THE SHANELEADERSHIP

[10] GOOD LUCK TO US THEN

[11] WERE YOU AN ADULT FILMS ACTRESS BEFORE?

CHARLIE’S DREAM

[12] TS-19

ACT 2: THE FARM

[13] JUST NEVER STOP

[14] POOR THING, YOU ARE

[15] WE HAVE CANDIES

[16] THE CHICK

[17] AND DARYL’S HERE

[18] GLENN’s DAY

[19] A WALKER IN THE ROOM

[20] LOST AND FOUND

[21] I LOVE YOU

[22] THAT’S RANDALL

LESSON

[23] DYING IS EASY

[24] SORRY, BROTHER

[25] TO PROTECT GLENN AND DARYL

[26] OLD MCDONALD HAD A FARM

ACT 3 PRISON

[27] HOME SWEET HOME

[28] DEAL

[29] I PROMISE

[30] THE KILLER I AM

[31] I’M SORRY

[32] THIS IS NOT A GOODBYE

[33] THE SOUR TASTE OF BETRAYAL

THE DIXON BROTHERS

[34] OLD AQUAIATANCE

[35] DECISIONS

[36] GREATER REASON

ACT 4: LIMBO

[37] BACK

[38] A GUT FEELING

[39] THE MELODY

[40] BLESS ME FATHER FOR I HAVE SINNED

A DREAM OR NOT

[41] I WILL FIND YOU

[42] TERMINUS

[43] HOUSE IN THE MIDDLE OF THE FOREST

HIS REDEMPTION

[44] TODAY I BURY YOU

[45] AT THE END OF THE TRACKS

PART 2

ACT 5: ALEXANDRIA

[1] LET THE JESUS TAKE THE WHEEL

[2] WHAT HAPPENED AT THE LORD’s HOUSE

APARTMENT IN ATLANTA

[3] A TRAP

[4] PAYING THE HIGH COST OF LIVING

[5] FROM A FRIEND

[6] KNOCKING ON HEAVEN’s DOORS

[7] COMMUNITY

[8] WEAK

[9] SOMETHING INSIDE OF ME

ACT 6

[10] THEN

[11] IN THE MEANTIME

[12] NOW

[13] BETTER DAYS

[14] BIGGER WORLD

[15] TIME OF DECISION

[16] CAPTURED

[17] FORTIFICATIONS

[18] THE DEATH WILL COME

[19] THE NIGHT BEFORE THE END

[20] THE END

[howtofightwrite]

in a lot of zombie stories like The Walking Dead, the only way to kill a zombie is to destroy the brain. Given that the skull is designed to protect one of our most important organs, how hard would this be on average? Would it be easier with bladed weapons like a hatchet vs blunt weapons like a baseball bat? And while killing anything is easier with a gun, I’ve heard headshots can be quite hard to nail. Is this something that can get better with practice, or will it always be something of a crapshoot?

Honestly? Thinking about it, destroying the brain to put down the zombie doesn't make that much sense. The first problem is the brain itself. The skull is pretty good at protecting the brain most of the time, but that's more impressive when you consider just how fragile the brain is. It's very soft tissue, suspended in fluid. It's also one of the first organs to really suffer from decomposition.

Particularly, the brain is the organ you have to really worry about when someone flatlines. It will start suffering serious damage within 30 seconds of being deprived of oxygen. Within minutes of death, it undergoes irreversible chemical changes and starts to break down, so, it follows that, the brain isn't going to be in a usable state by the time the zombie virus tries to claw its way back to the living.

This is a different kind of problem with living “zombies,” such as the 28 Days series or REC. Though, in those cases, the zombies would have a very limited shelf life, as the strain of the virus would kill them long before the second film rolled around. But, in those cases, massive trauma should still kill the zombie, so you don't really need headshots, when a shotgun, center mass, will get the job done.

For clarity, you know there's no way to answer that comment about headshots without sounding like a psychopath, right? The short answer is that, yeah, if you' know what you're doing, and you know your gun, you can hit a small, semi-mobile target at medium range. A sapient being? That's harder, people don't tend to present their head for a convenient bullet, like a video game shooting gallery, but, with practice, you can reliably hit a head sized target at about 30m. Landing that shot against a live person running for cover or shooting back might be a bit tricky, but against a shambling, reanimated, corpse, it should be pretty doable. Obviously, I don't have a lot of first hand experience shooting reanimated corpses, so I'm having to make some educated guesses here.

However, having just said that, I'm immediately reminded of something the Resident Evil 2 remake pointed out: Shooting someone in the head doesn't mean you destroyed their brain. Surprisingly, shooting someone in the head will only kill them about 98% of the time, so I can see some logic in the thought process.

That said, shooting zombies tends to run up against a problem, that doesn't make a lot of sense when you step back and think about it. Generally you don't want to shoot zombies because the sound will attract more zombies, and there are inevitably more zombies than you have bullets. This the exact scenario that The Walking Dead works with. So, I have one small question: How did we get here?

Before we go any further, and spoilers for a comic book that published 15 years ago, but The Walking Dead did answer that. (The TV series and comic have different answers. In the TV series it's a virus from space that reanimates corpses, in the comic book it was a presumably supernatural force reanimating the dead. Though, it might have become a space virus now. I stopped reading the comic when it just got too goddamn depressing.)

When you're looking at a city like Atlanta (from The Walking Dead), and you're facing something north of six million zombies, yeah, that's a serious problem. You can't headshot six million zombies. But how did you get six million zombies? Six million zombies is a problem that can't be solved with brute force. Six-hundred-thousand zombies is a problem that can't be solved with brute force. But, sixty-thousand zombies? That can be contained. Six thousand zombies is an orderly riot. Six hundred zombies can be locked in a building and disposed of. Sixty zombies can be easily contained and neutralized. Six zombies? You can send out animal control and nip that problem in bud before there's an outbreak. And without higher brain function, there's basically no chance of patient zero avoiding detection.

But, I know the answer to this one, “well, they sent cops to catch patient zero, and the cops got bitten, then they turned in the hospital, and...” this would be a lot more plausible if rabies didn't exist. Actually, with the reputation of American police, there's basically no chance a zombie gets within biting distance.  But, even if they did get closer, you know what else likes to bite cops? Meth heads. You know who has more higher brain function than a zombie? Meth heads.

Is there zero chance of a first responder getting bitten by a zombie? No, there's a chance. There's basically zero chance of that zombie biting anyone else, and on the slim possibility that the infected first responder turns and manages to chomp on one of their coworkers, there is no chance that the infection daisy chains out from there.

There's also a real likelihood that any growing outbreak will suffer, “a negative biomass shift,” as it tries to expand. That is to say, if someone sends twenty soldiers to contain 100 zombies, and those soldiers are overrun and infected, you're not going to have 120 zombies. You probably won't have 100 zombies, after they're infected and turned. So long as those soldiers drop more than two zombies, the horde will experience negative population growth. Incidentally, it doesn't matter if this is a modern or medical fantasy setting, in either case, the zombies aren't going to be able to put up much of a fight against armed and armored troops. Militaries train to fight against sapient foes, while zombies are going to be little more than training dummies. Even if they are eventually overwhelmed by the hoard, the hoard only gets a few corpses to replace all the zombies it lost. (Note: This doesn't apply if you have necromancers raising undead forces, in those cases, the actual loss of zombies will be minimal, as they reanimate zombies that were damaged enough to break their previous reanimation, but could still be used on the battlefield, so in this specific case, the goal would need to be more egregious destruction of the corpses.)

So how did we get to six million zombies? Any zombie outbreak will be at its most vulnerable when there are only a handful of infected. This even applies, to some extent, when you're looking at non-traditional zombie scenarios, such as fungal infections. Zombies are generally not very stealthy. (Ignoring The Walking Dead (TV)'s ninja zombies for the moment.) So, if you have a biohazard situation like that, unless there's a very long incubation period (which most zombies don't exhibit), then  the danger of them going undetected and reaching critical mass is pretty limited.

Also, once you start looking at urban environments, that's not a great space for zombies to navigate. Things like storm drains and security barriers can effectively stop zombie advancement through an urban environment. Sure, zombies might be a threat to massive glass windows on the ground floor, but how are they going to operate the elevators, or the keycard reader to get into the stairs? Much less climb multiple flights of stairs to find the survivors? They might be able to chase them up the stairs, but getting there under their own initiative? Not so much. Same problem with any structure that puts steel bars on the windows. Zombies can't get in, or out.

After that, there's still the problem of decomposition. Dead bodies don't typically hold up particularly well. Maybe there's an embalmed zombie out there somewhere, shambling around, years after the outbreak, but most of the corpses will, quite literally, fall apart in a couple weeks. (Probably less, if they're chasing after survivors and slamming into walls.)

Having said all of that, I don't hate zombie fiction. Zombies can be a fantastic metaphor. You can even come up with compelling and interesting zombie scenarios. I know I just said it was implausible, but I don't hate The Last of Us's scenario, even if I do have some issues with some of the writing (specifically in the last few levels of the first game, before anyone asks.)

So, would it be hard to kill a zombie? Usually no. You might have some exceptions, such as magically reanimated corpses that really don't need to be intact to continue trying to kill you. Dead Space's necromorphs come to mind as an excellent example of creative zombie assembly.

The issue is usually the volume of zombies, just the sheer number threatening to pour out onto the street at any moment. Which requires that things went exceptionally wrong in ways that don't really make a lot of sense when you step back and think about it.

The issue wasn't shooting one zombie in the head, it was the next ten, and the next hundred, and the next thousand. Because, in those numbers, it doesn't really matter if they're easy to kill, there will always be more.

-Starke

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[dontmeantobepoliticalbut]

A new Louisiana law that makes it a crime to approach within 25 feet (7.6 meters) of a police officer under certain circumstances is an affront to the movement for racial justice and violates the First Amendment, civil rights attorneys say.

Critics have said the law — signed this week by Republican Gov. Jeff Landry — could hinder the public’s ability to film officers. Bystander cellphone videos are largely credited with revealing police misconduct such as the 2020 killing of George Floyd by a white Minneapolis police officer.

“When you enact a law that prevents people from seeing for themselves whether injustice is being done, that is the biggest thing against civil rights you can ever do,” said Shean Williams, an attorney with The Cochran Firm in Atlanta.

Williams said images of police attacking demonstrators during the civil rights movement were instrumental to its success in advancing racial justice.

Proponents argue the new law will create a buffer zone to help ensure the safety of officers and that bystanders would still be close enough to film police interactions. Florida Gov. Ron DeSantis, also a Republican, signed a similar measure into law in April, saying it would help ensure law enforcement officers in his state can “do their jobs without the threat of harassment.”

In a statement at the time, DeSantis drew a distinction with “blue states,” saying Florida would continue to be “the friendliest state in the nation towards our law enforcement community.”

The Louisiana measure’s author, state Rep. Bryan Fontenot, said the legislation was drafted to provide officers “peace of mind and safe distance to do their job.”

“At 25 feet, that person can’t spit in my face when I’m making an arrest,” Fontenot said while presenting his bill in a committee earlier this year. “The chances of him hitting me in the back of the head with a beer bottle at 25 feet — it sure is a lot more difficult than if he’s sitting right here.”

But attorneys say states, including Florida and Louisiana, already have laws that criminalize efforts to obstruct police.

“The key in every other state is, ‘Are you disrupting the conduct of the officer?’" said Gerry Weber, a constitutional law expert in Atlanta who has represented numerous people in lawsuits over filming police misconduct. “One of the problems with the Louisiana law is it creates a presumption that one is interfering if they’re within 25 feet and they have been given a warning.”

Weber helped reach a settlement more than a decade ago that required Atlanta police to stop interfering with people who record officers performing their duties in public.

At least one other state created a law similar to the ones in Louisiana and Florida. In 2022, Arizona made it illegal to knowingly film a police officer from 8 feet (2.5 meters) or closer if the officer told the person to stop.

U.S. District Judge John J. Tuchi in Phoenix last year blocked enforcement of that statute, saying it “prohibits or chills a substantial amount of First Amendment protected activity and is unnecessary to prevent interference with police officers given other Arizona laws in effect.”

The Louisiana law does not specifically mention filming. It prohibits “knowingly or intentionally” approaching an officer who is “lawfully engaged in the execution of his official duties” after being ordered to “stop approaching or retreat.” Violators face up to a $500 fine, up to 60 days in jail, or both. It goes into effect on Aug. 1.

But even without an explicit reference to filming, the First Amendment concerns remain, said Susan Meyers, a senior staff attorney at the Southern Poverty Law Center.

Courts have been clear that people have a right to observe and film police doing their jobs in public, she said.

“What are they saying? How are they conducting themselves?” she said. “There are in fact very few ways for the public to hold these public servants accountable for their actions.”

Alanah Odoms, executive director of the ACLU of Louisiana, said she experienced the importance of filming police first-hand last year when she and some colleagues were pulled over by an officer who said he suspected the vehicle they were in was stolen.

The car wasn’t stolen, and Odoms, who has denounced the new Louisiana law, said she believes the justification was pretextual. On a dark, deserted road, she said filming the encounter gave her comfort.

“I’m probably within 8 to 10 feet of the officer and then two or three feet,” she recalled. “I would not be able to do any of that.”

[saucy-sassy-sparkly]

Moments: Eight

Pairing: Chris Evans x reader

Word Count: ~ 6.4k

Author's Note: the final full-length part 🥹 I have some drabbles to keep these babes going a little longer, so they'll be back! Thanks for the support on this story! I can't wait to share my next one! ❤️

Moments Masterlist

2014: Sudbury

1 day after Minka-gate broke, Y/N and Chris flew home from their vacation early, feeling very tense and exhausted. They’d returned to the hotel immediately and Y/N was back in sweatpants within 5 minutes of crossing the threshold. Chris sat on the edge of the bed in his suit, his tie undone and his top button loosened, holding Y/N on his lap while she cried; his tears leaked into her hair. This was not how tonight should’ve been. She’d stayed tucked on his lap and they’d fallen into an uncomfortable sleep for several hours before Chris gently moved her to change for bed and returned to bed to find her awake and ready to crawl back into his arms.

3 days after Minka-gate broke, Chris begrudgingly went back to Atlanta to finish his last 5 weeks of filming. Y/N had driven him to the airport and they’d kissed goodbye in the drop-off lane, but with nowhere near the passion they normally parted. The three days between the phone call on the rooftop and this moment were filled with tears and stressed phone calls to all the members of Chris’s team. They all assured him with full certainty that this would not be interesting for long, to lay low, and not engage.

8 days after Minka-gate broke, Chris and Y/N got into a huge fight during one of their nightly phone calls. All their calls had been tense of late but they’d both continued to try. The anxiety and frustration hung in the background of all their interactions came to a head after Chris continued to repeat, “I never meant for this to happen,” to which Y/N snapped and said, “I know you didn’t, but what are you going to fucking do about it!” before Chris returned with his own ire.

10 days after Minka-gate broke, Y/N took a day off of work to lean into her feelings, stay home and sob watching Titanic and take a long, luxurious, wine-soaked bath in the middle of the day on a Tuesday. Now it wasn’t just the tabloids but all the online gossip blogs and even a few credible media outlets had picked up the story, claiming to talk to “sources close to the couple” who knew that Minka and Chris had rekindled their romance months ago and were finally ready to settle down. Instead of passing, it was picking up intensity.

14 days after Minka-gate broke, Chris’s team was still advising him that the best course of action was to ignore the press until it goes away. Minka’s team was, according to Chris’s team, not responding. She’d even been seen leaving a grocery store with a ring on her finger. Chris had thrown and shattered his coffee mug when his assistant had to tell him and then immediately called Y/N to be sure he heard it from her. Around the same time, the media outlets had started to drag out old pictures of Y/N and Chris: grocery stores, sporting events, the dog park, fan sightings… anything for another chance to manipulate the story with new headlines: What about Chris Evans’s mystery Boston girlfriend? Does she know about his engagement to Minka? Is he planning to keep his side piece? Will he have an LA wife and a Boston piece of ass?

17 days after Minka-gate broke, Chris called his mother, who told him she didn’t understand the Hollywood ways, but she thought this was taking an awfully long time to die down. She gently, quietly wondered– in a way only a mother could– why he didn’t just make a statement to protect his real relationship. In another fit of frustration, Chris snipped at his mother, “I pay these people to take care of it, so they’re taking care of it.” Lisa sighed and responded, “but are they?”

19 days after Minka-gate broke, Y/N was sitting in her office, updating client charts, when her office phone rang.

“Hello, this is Y/N.”

“Hi, Y/N, we’ve never spoken, but I’m calling about your situation with Chris.” The voice on the other end was a clipped female and there was a long pause during which Y/N expected her to continue and perhaps introduce herself. When she didn’t, Y/N rolled her already tense shoulders and sighed.

“Who’s calling?”

“Oh right, this is Megan.” Y/N obviously knew who she was but as she was mostly connected to Chris via phone, email, or when he was in LA life; they’d never met or truly spoken other than a quick wave on a FaceTime call. Obviously in the last weeks since the photo dropped, Y/N had been in the background of calls or seen emails that Chris forwarded her about the latest updates and plans, but they’d never had a one-on-one conversation.

Her phone buzzed on her desk with Chris’s caller ID, which was odd as he was supposed to be on a super secret closed set all day- no phones allowed. She ignored the call.

“Hi Megan,” she said tentatively, “you said you were calling about our… situation?”

“Correct. I’m reaching out on Chris’s behalf to move forward on our next phase of sidestepping this issue.”

Y/N’s whole body stilled at these words and her phone started to ring again. She ignored it again and a text immediately came through.

Chris: Do not answer a call from Megan. Call me, please.

Megan continued, “I know I called your work phone so I won’t keep you long, I’ll get right to it. I’ve been talking with Chris and the next best course of action is to announce your engagement. I think an exclusive with People with a shot of the ring and perhaps a few candids of you should do it. So we’d like to do that within the next week; can you get down to Atlanta by Thursday?”

Her phone was ringing again. She hit ignore again. And yet, she didn’t know why she stayed on with Megan; she had a sick feeling in her stomach from the second Megan had announced herself, but she couldn’t get herself to hang up.

She finally spoke to stall for time to process, “help me understand, why is this the best plan?”

“If we can put your real engagement out there with a wedding date attached, we can pull focus and put this mess to bed. I already have Chris booked for several appearances and interviews after where he’ll be asked…” Y/N stopped listening and switched the call to speakerphone. She set the headset back in the cradle and put her head down on her desk, her mind immediately wandering to that snowy rooftop…

Y/N’s whole body was shaking with rage when she handed the phone to Chris. She couldn’t believe this was happening. She didn’t know what, exactly, was happening, but how she’d ended up here on this rooftop while a picture of her boyfriend on one knee in front of another woman was circling the internet. How had she gone from an independent, strong, capable woman living on her own in DC to being entangled in a relationship with one of Hollywood’s up-and-coming heartthrobs who everyone wanted a piece of? She knew this wasn’t real but she just couldn’t understand how the stars had possibly aligned to set up such a suspicious picture.

She looked up to watch him look at the picture and, in slow motion, she watched his face drained of color entirely, his head dropped into his hands and she saw his shoulders immediately start to shake.

He was crying. He was squeezing her phone in his hand so hard that his knuckles were white and his body was trembling with sobs.

After watching him for a moment, unsure what to do, she reached out tentatively and took the phone from him, setting the table in front of her, and then moved closer to him. She put her hand on his leg and used her index finger and thumb to tip his chin up to look at him.

All of the initial anger she’d felt when seeing the photo melted away immediately. Y/N had seen Chris’s actor cry– this wasn’t it. This was pure devastation. He was already snotty and his eyes were swollen. His lip trembled as he looked at her, trying to keep it together. He fought against the hand that held his chin, trying to dip back down to avoid her eyes.

Without a shadow of a doubt, Y/N knew that she’d jumped to conclusions. He’d been as blindsided as she was. She knew nothing was going on with Minka; she knew what they had and he’d been upfront from the second he knew Minka was in Atlanta. This was the press going rogue and trying to get some money however they could. She’d process her emotions later– she had a lot to think about– but right now, she could see in his face how terrified he was that Y/N might be doubting him… them.

“I love you,” she told him quietly, still holding his chin. “I love you, and I know this wasn’t your fault.”

He lunged at her, wrapping her in his arms and pulling her tightly against him. She felt his tears on her cheek as they were pressed so tightly together. “I’m so sorry, baby, I’m so sorry. I’ll make this go away, you don’t deserve this. I love you so much.”

They stayed tangled up on the patio for another 15 minutes before they both calmed down enough and realized they’d lost their appetites. Back at the lodge, Y/N tried to keep herself together. She knew from the few whispered words between tears that Chris was distraught. Their relationship had already had so many bumps, he was so worried that they couldn’t survive another one… that she’d go for good.

And he hadn’t acknowledged it, but he’d been planning to propose tonight. She saw the hints now that she looked back- the surprise trip, his jumpy nature, his extra focus on using the word ‘forever’ in all of their conversations, the beautiful restaurant, the sexy suit, and the insistence she be equally done up.

Instead, this night had been ruined by a misunderstanding with a bunch of money-hungry strangers looking to stir the pot. They didn’t care about the real people involved or what hurt they inflicted.

So, once she’d donned sweats and washed her face, she took a deep, shaky breath to calm her nerves and walked back out towards the bed.

He sat on the edge, staring at his hands. No, not his hands, but something in his hands…

She unwillingly gasped when she realized he held the open ring box with tears running down his face. Her gasp alerted him to her presence and he snapped it shut, swiping at his eyes and spinning to look at her.

Y/N’s resolve crumbled and she let out the sob she’d been holding. He held his arms out and she crawled across the bed and into his waiting embrace.

Quietly he asked, “did you know?”

She shook her head and leaned back in his grasp to look at him, “I had no idea.”

He laughed bitterly, “another part of this ruined: the element of surprise.”

“It’ll be a surprise whenever you do it,” Y/N smiled softly and Chris’s lips crashed into her, swallowing her startled noise.

When he pulled back, he said, “you still want to marry me?”

Y/N nodded, “I won’t accept a proposal until this whole mess is settled, but of course I do. I love you.” He kissed her fiercely with both of their tears mixing, muttering ‘I love yous’ against her lips every time they came up for air.

A soft knock on the door and then Stacey stuck her head in. Before she could speak she saw Y/N slumped on her desk and caught Megan saying “… and I’m also hoping you and I might be able to talk Chris into giving wedding photo rights to People Magazine…”

Stacey physically pulled Y/N to stand, caught a glimpse of her tear-stained face, and whispered, “Chris is on the phone in my office. Go. I’ll get rid of this,” she gestured to the phone where Megan was still rattling off her long-winded 18-month plan. Y/N nodded and accepted Stacey’s quick but tight hug before leaving the room.

She kept her head down as she moved through the hall and past the open lounge and slipped into Stacey’s office. Y/N saw the hold light flashing on the desk phone and took a steadying breath before rounding the desk and taking the call.

“Chris?”

“Oh Bunny, thank god,” she could hear his relief.

“What is happening Chris, why does Megan have the rest of our lives planned out?”

“It’s her job to manage my image,” she heard his sarcasm on the word image, “but this is not how I wanted any of this to go down. We need to be on the same page first. I tried to stop it but it’s just been–” he cut himself off and she knew that he was running his fingers through his hair. “She has been relentless. She pitched this plan to me yesterday, and I told her it was awful and that she needed a new one. She’s been pushing this idea for almost 24 hours and I didn’t realize she’d called you until I got a break. I came back to my phone and she’d blown it up telling me she was calling you to tell you ‘our plan’. It’s not my plan, Y/N, I didn’t back this idea.” Y/N could hear his frustration, his disappointment, and his confusion, but was feeling all of her own emotions.

“She wants to announce our engagement and then give our wedding photos to People,” anger was boiling in Y/N’s stomach even as her tears kept falling. “We aren’t even engaged, Chris! I don’t want People magazine at our wedding! What’s next? Let People Magazine have the first photos of our baby? Do they get the exclusive rights to be in the delivery room with me? What the fuck, Chris, you said you’d make this go away. And I’m all alone in our stupid house trying to wait this out by myself. All my close friends are in DC, and I have no one to talk to here, every day it seems to get worse and I wake up with more texts with screenshots from people… and I hate every second of this. I can’t do this anymore, Chris.” Y/N’s voice continued to rise with every sentence.

Chris was silent and then she heard movement- the rustle of fabric, a door opening, and closing, a zipper being pulled, “I’m coming home.”

“No, don’t do that. You can’t just come home from this project, you remind me of that frequently.”

“I’m coming home,” he repeated more sternly.

“Don’t bother, Chris. I’ll be fine. I don’t want you to come home just so we can discuss our 5-year plan with your team,” she spat the last word.

“I’m not coming home to discuss our plans or anything else with my team. I’m coming home to be with you.” She heard him pull the phone away to speak with someone. There was a back and forth and she couldn't hear all the words, but she heard Chris’s forceful tone to whomever he was speaking to. Then after a few more minutes of rustling, there was a car door shut and the dinging of a seatbelt reminder. “I’m headed to the airfield; should I schedule a car or can you pick me up around 6?”

Before Y/N could answer, there was more muffled conversation and then she heard Chris mutter, “fuck,” before coming back on the line, “can you pick me up?”

“What’s wrong now?”

“I’m still in costume. I have to change and then I’m going to the airfield… as much as I know you like me as Cap.”

Y/N couldn’t help herself when she snorted a quick laugh; that was her Chris, dropping a suggestive line amid a heated conversation. He’d be smirking if she could see him, trying to gauge if it broke some of the tension. “Are you sure you can come home?”

“There is nothing more important than getting this figured out. They’ll manage without me.”

“Chris,” guilt started to course through Y/N’s body as her frustration level lowered, knowing that once he’d decided to come home, he would be back with her soon, “this doesn't seem like a good idea.”

“I’ve been thinking about it for a few days anyway, and have an email already drafted to suggest how we can adjust my filming to not mess everyone else up. I won’t be able to stay longer, but I’m not coming back until this is behind us. But stop worrying about this, Y/N. You’re right, you’ve been dealing with this alone and that isn’t fair to you. I’m coming home and we’ll manage it together.”

“Don’t you dare propose to me. Don’t use this opportunity to try to re-do, it is not the right moment.”

He laughed lightly, “wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Six?”

“Six.”

“Dodge and I will be there.”

“I love you, we’ll get through this.”

“Hey Chris,” Y/N’s lower lip was wobbling; relief was already flooding her body knowing that Chris would be here soon to weather this storm with her.

“Yes, Bunny?”

“Thank you,” she twisted a piece of hair around her finger and bit her lip, waiting for him to respond.

He heaved a heavy sigh, “always, sweeth’art,” he croaked before a quick goodbye.

Stacey was waiting in Y/N’s office when she returned and looked up, “that woman has a lot of nerve.”

“Tell me about it,” Y/N started to gather her belongings, ready to leave for the day with no more patients and too many emotions.

“She would not shut up. She just kept running her mouth like I was your publicist or something, all the ways I could try to convince you that her idiotic plan was in Chris’s best interest and therefore in your best interest. When you two do get married, do not invite her. I will punch her in the face for all of this.”

Y/N laughed for the first time in what felt like ages, “you’ll have to get in line, Stac. Thanks for getting rid of her; I’ve never had to deal with her and this has all just been…” she trailed off while she reached for her phone and smiled to see a picture Chris had sent in costume with a message:

Chris:

Chris: Had to leave the Farmer Cap costume, but see you soon, beautiful

Her bag packed and jacket on, she realized Stacey was still watching her and then tentatively began to speak, “I’ve been afraid to pry, but are you– how are you doing?”

Y/N shrugged while she pulled on her jacket, “I’ve been better.”

“Did he really…” Stacey trailed off, biting her lip and staring at Y/N.

“God, no. I mean, he dated Minka years ago, but no. He’s not cheating, he’s not living a double life. The photographers will go to major lengths to get some clicks on an article.”

Stacey nodded but continued, “and you’re positive? No doubt he’s just acting?” Y/N stilled in her preparations to leave and turned to look at her colleague… her friend… more carefully. Stacey continued, “I’m just saying, it’s his profession to fake things, would you even know?”

“I don’t want to have this conversation again, Stace, and I love you, so I’m trying to avoid snapping at you,” she sighed and slung her bag over her shoulder, “but I know Chris, I trust Chris, and I love Chris. He isn’t acting.”

Stacey threw her hands up in front of her, “I’m sorry, I just felt like I had to ask.”

“And you did, but please don’t ever question him again. We’ve been through so much already, I need my friends to have my back.”

“Won’t happen again,” she stepped towards Y/N offering a tentative hug that Y/N quickly accepted.

Y/N sat in her warm car on the tarmac waiting for Chris’s plane to land. Music played quietly but she wasn’t listening. She’d left her phone in the back seat so she wouldn’t be tempted to scroll while she waited; instead, she was aimlessly petting Dodger with one hand and playing with the edge of her scarf with the other.

She saw the lights of the plane and watched it take its time landing and taxiing towards the hangers on either side of her waiting SUV. Her car was the only one on the tarmac, although there were a few parked in the lot at the entrance, which made sense: Chris was likely the only passenger. For once, she’d been quite grateful for his privilege and situation to be able to get on a flight and come straight to her.

The door to the plane popped open with the stairs dropping down and displaying Chris’s silhouette as he reached the top of the stairs. He had a duffle bag in his hand and his backpack slung on one shoulder while he descended; Y/N felt her anxiety melt away seeing him. As he got closer, she pushed the door open and started towards him over the snowy pavement. Chris dropped his bags when they met and lifted her into his arms, his face tucked into the crook of her neck and burrowing through the fluffy scarf to kiss her neck, her jaw, her cheek, and her lips while pulling her legs around his waist. He took three huge strides and she felt her ass meet the hood of her car.

Chris set her on it carefully and continued to kiss her, to rub his hands on her, while she clung to him– it was freezing in the March air but she didn’t care, all she wanted was to be close to him. She didn’t realize she was crying until he swiped at her tears. A loud bark forced them apart when they noticed Dodge jumping around beside them and then untangled long enough for him to lean down and properly greet Dodger, then retrieve his bags. The drive home was quick and quiet while they listened to music and held hands on the center console. They ate dinner on the living room sofa with Y/N’s legs draped over Chris’s lap and Chris indulging in pizza, mozzarella sticks, and beer– definitely not part of his Cap diet– and didn’t bother to turn on the tv. Being back in each other’s company, Chris telling set stories, Y/N telling stories about her adventures with Dodger.

The doorbell rang and surprised both of them while Chris untangled himself and pulled the door open with a surprised, “Ma!”

“Chris?” Lisa sounded equally surprised as she crossed the threshold. “I thought you couldn’t leave set in this super secret last stretch of filming? What are you doing here? Where is Y/N?”

Y/N round the corner and greeted Lisa with a warm hug, accepting the tote bag she offered (full of homemade cookies) before gesturing Lisa into the house and pouring her a glass of wine. “I came home to be with Y/N. She’s been here all alone.”

“I’m well aware, Christopher, I’m glad you came to your senses too.”

Y/N shoved a whole cookie in her mouth instead of laughing loudly at Lisa’s directness with her oldest son. Chris shot Y/N a look and rubbed his hand on the back of his neck, “I know, I know, it took me long enough.” Taking pity on him, Y/N rounded the kitchen island and put an arm around his waist, accepting the kiss he planted in her hair.

“I heard about Megan’s plan,” Lisa took a sip of wine and her eyes bounced between the two of them.

“It’s idiotic, I know, we’re not doing it,” Chris answered immediately, his grip on Y/N’s waist tightening when she leaned into him.

“Thank God. Are you firing her too?”

Chris glanced at Y/N and then shrugged, “We have to manage this first, then we’ll talk,” he looked back at Y/N.

“We?”

“You’re my team. Everyone else is just people who work for me.” If she wasn’t already in love with him, that line would’ve brought her to her knees. Y/N was immediately overwhelmed by emotions (again) and tried not to cry. She tucked her head into Chris’s shoulder and wrapped her other arm around him, “I’m sorry I didn’t acknowledge that sooner.”

She nodded against him, not taking a chance to pull away and look at him, and Lisa broke the silence that followed, “so what are you going to do?”

“I have no idea. If I post something on Twitter, especially at this point, it’ll seem fake. If we coordinate with a press outlet, it’ll be forced and that puts Y/N too far in the spotlight.”

Lisa was quiet for a few minutes and then she looked between the two of them, “I might have an idea. How long are you home?”

—

Two nights later, Chris’s hand fell to the small of Y/N’s back as he guided her through the door of the Concord Youth Theater. The House was open and it was mere minutes before curtain: all exactly as planned. They stepped through the nearly empty lobby and were greeted by ushers who started to ask about their seat numbers but quickly panicked when they processed Chris’s presence.

After a quick autograph on a spare Playbill, Chris and Y/N continued down the aisle towards the front where Lisa was, as planned, craning her neck to spot them. She stood up when she spotted them coming towards her and waved them into her row, offering huge (genuine) hugs as they took their seats. The production– Once Upon a Mattress, performed by the Young Adult Company– was heartwarming and well done, and when it was over, Chris was swarmed by all the teenage fans and siblings who had come to see people they knew in the show. Chris’s photo was taken, he signed autographs, and he talked to fans, all while he kept some kind of physical contact with Y/N, introducing her whenever it felt natural. Y/N, with her natural ability to connect with teenagers thanks to years of counseling them, jumped into conversations easily.

They even went backstage with Lisa to greet the cast and take more photos– many of that were quickly uploaded to various social media accounts. Afterward, Lisa took them to dinner at a local restaurant, which was packed on a Thursday evening, where Chris greeted more people and made sure to have Y/N beside him at all times.

By the time they were back at home, Chris was scrolling Twitter in the backyard while Dodger romped around and a slow smile broke on his face. He’d done something he didn’t normally do: he’d typed his name into the search bar. And there he was tonight: candid with fans in the theater holding Y/N’s hand, posed with a whole group, including Y/N, at the restaurant, blurry and distorted but definitely identifiable from someone’s creepy picture across the street as they left the restaurant.

When he came back in with Dodger, Y/N held out her phone for Chris to see a screenshot Lisa had sent: her Facebook page with a photo of them from tonight where Lisa had been tagged that included Lisa, Y/N, and Chris talking candidly behind the scenes. It had been posted by a parent of one of the performers, extolling the surprise visit from the sweet and engaging Chris Evans and his girlfriend, Y/N. Lisa had sent a picture of the comments; six different people– both performers and family members they’d talked with tonight– commenting on the couple and how exciting it was to meet them.

He leaned in to kiss her, and when he pulled back he asked, “are you up for a few more outings before I fly back?”

In the final 48 hours of Chris’s stay– one that he’d extended from two days to four after talking with the directors– they made sure to be seen around town as much as possible. They went to his niece’s basketball game, they stopped for Dunkin’ and groceries and ice cream, they went to the dog park with Dodger and Y/N went along with Lisa for her afternoon constitutional around her neighborhood. They’d been caught and posted– truly candidly, although by their design and not Megan’s– at least ten different times before it was time for Chris to head back to Atlanta.

With each post, comments continued to flow in from neighbors, from fans, on their interactions with Chris. And the more things were reposted and dragged into the fan accounts and boards, the more comments shifted to commentary on their relationship. Not all of it was positive and supportive, but much of it was and before his return flight had landed, Chris noted that the buzz about Minka was all but disappeared. The gossip blogs weren’t getting much traction on it at this point, but the next thing they’d expected happened: the media started to reach out to Chris and his people looking for Y/N’s name and comments from her or Chris.

Megan. Was. Furious.

To her credit, her plan had been one that she would mostly be able to control and Chris and Y/N’s rogue version was anything but controllable. But Chris didn’t care. He’d found a way to make Y/N more comfortable, to make it clear how he felt (he’d always been comfortable with PDA, and he made sure to lay it on even thicker), and to get traction moving forward from this awful misunderstanding.

In addition to his nightly call with Y/N, he now had a nightly call with someone trying to stay one step ahead. If it was Megan, it usually started with him being scolded for not listening to her… often a variation of ‘this is why you pay me, Chris’ and then she’d try to push a new narrative. Then he’d hang up with her and call Y/N to pass along any valuable information and hear her daily updates. They spent the final few weeks of his Avengers filming this way until it was finally time for him to pack up from Atlanta and return home.

April 1st arrived and with it, Y/N’s excitement: Chris would be back home tomorrow and it was her birthday. His plane got in around dinner time, so she would pick him up and go to Lisa’s, who had volunteered to host a joint birthday/welcome home dinner before they finally had some time alone. She tucked into bed with Dodger curled next to her and fell asleep quickly, only to be jolted awake hours later by Dodger pawing at the bedroom door.

“Dodge,” Y/N whispered in the dark, patting the edge of the bed, “c’mon, bud.”

Instead of a whine, as he’d normally do if he needed to go out, a low growl emitted from the normally friendly dog. It made Y/N’s hair stand on end. She groped for her phone, realizing she’d left it charging on the kitchen counter instead of on her bedside like normal. She’d left it there while she cleaned up from cooking dinner and chatted with Chris on FaceTime, and by the time she’d taken Dodger out, locked up, gotten ready for bed, and snuggled down in the covers, she realized where it was and decided she was too tired to go get it.

Dodger growled again and pawed frantically at the door. “What is it, dude?”

In response, he barked loudly and increased his scratching. She groped her way in the darkness to the small desk in the corner of the room, stopping to pull a sweatshirt on, and found the cordless phone that she was now so grateful Chris had insisted on keeping– “you should always have a landline!” he’d told her a million times when she moved in and laughed at it. Her fingers fumbled on the buttons while she tried to remember Chris’s cell phone number as Dodger barked again.

She finally dialed– hopefully correctly– and moved across the room to lock the door. “Hello? Y/N?” Chris’s croak came through the line and she looked at the clock on the bedside table: 2:37 am.

“Baby, Dodger is freaking out,” as if on cue, Dodger barked again and continued to scratch the door. She knew that there would be gouges in the wood tomorrow morning. “What do I do?”

“Is the security system on?” His voice was more alert and she heard him shuffling on the other end.

“Yeah, of course.”

“Can you hear anything? Does it sound like someone got inside?”

Y/N’s heart was thundering in her chest and Dodger was getting more and more frantic, “I don’t think so. Chris, what do I do?”

“I’m going to call the security company and see if the alarm was triggered, I’ll call you back.”

“NO! No, don’t hang up!” She yelped, sinking to the floor in the dark corner, trying to urge Dodger to come to her. “My phone is in the kitchen, and I’m scared.”

Chris sighed, “I don’t have another way to call and check, Bunny. I promise I’ll call you right back.”

“What if someone did get inside, Chris? If you call the house phone it’ll ring and they’ll know!”

“Y/N, I promise you are safe in our house. Let me just call the security company to be sure. Just stay where you are. If you don’t want me to call back, give me 5 minutes and then call me.”

“Okay,” she whispered; her whole body was shaking.

“I love you, babe, it’s going to be fine.”

“I love you too,” she muttered as she hung up and held the phone to her chest. “Dodger,” she moved towards the dog and grabbed his collar gently, deciding to take him into the bathroom with her while she waited to call Chris back. He threw his head away from her, jerking wildly and barking. Y/N started to cry while she tried to pull Dodger away from the door, begging him to come with her.

The phone in her hand rang loudly, startling her, and she yelped despite herself before scurrying across the room to answer in a whisper, “Chris?”

“The call is coming from inside the house,” came his reply in his creepiest voice.

Y/N froze.

Banging came from the other side of their bedroom door before he yelled his best “hereeeeee’s Johnny!” impression.

“FUCK. CHRISTOPHER!” She swiped at the tears on her face and moved to unlock the door, letting Dodger tumble out and greet Chris.

Chris collapsed to the ground while Dodger greeted him; he was laughing his boisterous, contagious laugh and Y/N wanted to be mad at him. The adrenaline coursing through him was going to take forever to settle down, “you’re an asshole.”

Between laughs and kisses from Dodger, he said, “I thought I could get in without you guys noticing. This guy isn’t typically so protective.”

“Yeah, well, he likes me better than you so he wants to keep me safe.”

“Seems that’s correct,” Chris gave Dodger one last rub before getting to his feet and reaching for Y/N, “I’m sorry I scared you.”

“Why didn’t you tell me it was you when I called?”

He shrugged, “sometimes I can’t resist the urge to be a 12-year-old. But I’m happy to see you.”

She sighed and uncrossed her arms, deciding not to be mad at him and accepting the hug he wrapped her in. “I’m happy you’re home, you absolute jackass.”

“Take me to your bed, gorgeous girl,” he pressed kisses to her cheeks and neck while he walked her back towards the bed.

“If you think I’m even spooning with you after that mean trick, you’ve got another thing coming, sir.” Y/N laughed up at him, kissing him once solidly before crawling back into the bed and watching him strip off his clothes. Once he’d dumped his clothes in the hamper and brushed his teeth, he stumbled into the bed beside her and pulled her to his chest.

“Please spoon me, I missed you too much not to have you touching me tonight.” She started to wiggle away but stilled when his bulging biceps were caging her in and his hard pecs were pressed against the thin fabric of her shirt. She sighed into his grasp, enjoying the smell of him wrapping around her.

“Only because your Cap muscles are so good I can’t resist them,” Y/N turned in his arms and snaked an arm around his waist while she looked up to kiss him.

“Happy birthday, Bun,” he whispered against her lips before he pressed another long kiss onto her lips and pulled his arm away from her, reaching her hand and interlacing their fingers. She leaned into his kiss, luxuriating in each feeling– each comfort of having him home– when she felt him press his palm into hers, and something cut into the palm of her hand.

Y/N pulled back and started to pull her hand away from his, only to have him wrap his huge palm around the item and pull away from the kiss. He pushed himself up onto his elbow and looked down at her carefully, not breaking eye contact.

“I love you, Y/N, and I want to spend my whole life with you. I never want another minute where the world doesn’t know we’re together.” He kissed her tenderly, his fingers once again playing with her hand, but this time, rather than their fingers intertwining, he held just her left ring finger and slid a cool metal circle down it until he reached the base. The movement was loving and sensual as he traced his fingers back up her hand, then her forearm, then the back of her arms, and around to cup her neck, deepening the kiss, pushing his tongue into her mouth and swallowing both of their moans. He finally pulled back and looked at Y/N again, “marry me?” he whispered against her lips, his eyes dancing between hers while he waited for a response.

She nodded frantically, pulling him to her for another long, deep kiss, when they finally pulled apart, her eyes were glazed with tears but she was grinning, “yes.”

Taglist: @bellaireland1981 @before-we-get-started @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @elrw24 @maylaysia109 @royalwritersoftheuniverses @behindmygreyeyes

[sayruq]

I've been going through Sophie's insta, and while the photo of the joint birthday party banner with the daughter's initials is no longer there (makes sense since she's so protective of their privacy), you can find it elsewhere, so the kids were with her in July in the UK at the very least. And there's another photo of her traveling to the UK in April with one of her daughters in the corner, so again, the kids were with her then. Combined with the Elle interview from when she was filming the staircase about how she rented a house in Atlanta for the girls to live with her, since Joe was "bouncing around" from city to city, it made since for her to be the primary parent. The two month thing that Joe's team has been putting out might be true, but it seems that Sophie has been the primary parent for most of the marriage, even while working, and this might be the first time that Joe has had to actually take care of his own kids, but who knows. I wouldn't be surprised if it comes out that the kids were in the UK the whole time, especially since Sophie's support system is there, and could have helped her look after them. She's spoken a lot about how she wants to give them a similar childhood in England to what she had. Joe being the stay at home dad is such malarkey, Sophie's literally been at home, with her career on hold, while he's been doing tours and dj sets. He literally said in interviews when they were filming the Jonas brothers doc that he had to make an effort to spend even an hour with Sophie during that time. Hopefully her PR people will be putting out their own strategy soon, she should be really careful right now.

He has the kids right now because he's already using them to make himself look like a darling father (by calling the paps and selling those pictures on the worst tabloids) but you're spot on everything else.

I definitely think this is premeditated, as in he told Sophie he'll look after the kids while she worked just so that he could filed for divorce in America and make any custody agreement more complicated for her.

Sophie wants her kids to grow up in England like she did but if he files for custody in Florida, I don't know much about custody law, but I imagine she'll have a tough time making that happen.

[glasslifeatl01]

You’ve just driven your shiny new car off the dealership’s lot, marveling at its pristine exterior. It’s natural to want to preserve that like-new appearance for as long as possible. Unfortunately, road debris, weather, and inevitable wear and tear can take a toll on your vehicle’s paint job. Thankfully, there’s a solution specifically designed to keep your car looking showroom-fresh: XPEL paint protection film (PPF). This article will explore how this advanced technology can help maintain your car’s glossy finish and protect it from damage. Learn more - https://www.wordlessdesign.com/how-xpel-paint-protection-film-can-help-keep-your-car-looking-new/

[mateomeijer]

⸻ peter gadiot, 38, cis male, he/him // in the ORCHIRD PARK neighborhood of Covington, you’ll find MATEO MEIJER who’s lived there for SEVENTEEN YEARS and they spend their days working as a DETECTIVE WITH COVINGTON PD and THE OWNER OF THE VAULT RECORD STORE. They’ve been described as PERSEVERING, GENUINE, REACTIVE, and GUARDED by the people that know them. This is his story.

Triggers: child abuse, mental illness, death/suicide

When looking back on where he has come from, Mateo doesn't like to look too deep or with too much intensity. Born and raised until aged 11 in upstate New York his father was an artist and his mother was the same. They were two painters that forged a life together after growing up with him always in pursuit of her. As kids, it had been love at first sight for his father, and his mother came around eventually. It just wasn't until after his mother's best friend had moved away to California and had married a film producer out there.

The early years his childhood was happy and warm. It wasn't until after his mother's best friend had passed away in a horrible accident in California that his mother's mental and emotional state began to decline. She drank too heavily and became abusive, first only verbally then it had become physical as well after nearly two years. Mateo's father had done everything he could to protect him and his older sister from the abuse. The man also sought help for his wife's drinking and declining health. Nothing worked. It all only got worse.

When Mateo was 11 he had walked into the converted carriage house near the main house turned working studio and found his father hanging lifeless. It's a sight that he's never been able to unsee. By the time his father was buried and laid to rest his mother had cleared out his studio and gotten rid of everything. It was only six months later that he and his older sister were taken away by the state. Unfortunately, Mateo and his sister were separated and adopted out to different families with him finding himself in the south. Covington, Georgia.

It took many years and plenty of required therapy for Mateo to come out of the poor state he'd been in. At the start he'd been unable and unwilling to open up or trust anyone despite his new family being absolutely wonderful with him. They were patient and it eventually paid off. Mateo came out of grief and survival mode with an interest and ability with music, a talented guitar player and decent songwriter. There was even a possibility of going off to music school and several times he'd been on the verge of starting a band or recording music. But, ultimately, Mateo knew that wasn't his purpose in life.

What he really needed to do was help people. So, after graduation from high school, he went off to university in Atlanta and studied criminal justice. Mateo's purpose was to become a detective, a lawman, someone that could help those in need. Partly, he wanted to learn the necessary skills for selfish reasons. His sister was out there somewhere and the desire to reconnect with her is strong. There's also the need to uncover the truth about his past and make peace with it. Once he earned his degree he came back home to Covington and became a cop. It didn't take long for him to build a very strong reputation and rise through the ranks to detective.

Many times he has received special accolades and commendations for his outstanding work. Has even been offered promotions, asked to take on a role and title with more responsibility but has always turned it down. Mateo didn't become a cop so that he would be stuck and desk and push around papers, there was no interest in the bureaucracy or business of it all. Being a detective and making a difference where he could has been all that's mattered.

Without a doubt the job is difficult and can be incredibly taxing. In times that he's nearly quit and walked away because the weight on his shoulders was too much, or he'd noticed how he'd picked up his birth mother's drinking habit, Mateo knew that he needed to find another outlet. There had to be somewhere to turn. And that happened to be music. Considering that he didn't make a ton of money but also had little expenses with no family of his own, just a house and a German Shepherd, it was easy to take his savings and buy out The Vault Record Store from it's previous owner.

A couple of years ago Mateo found a young woman badly hurt following what had appeared to be a brutal attack. It was perhaps the wrong move to make but he rushed the woman to the hospital himself knowing he could get her to help fast than it would take emergency vehicles to get to them and then take her in. With her condition critical it was a call he took responsibility for. While in emergency care and waiting on the woman to become stable Mateo had already begun the quest in finding out what had happened to her and who was responsible.

For the six months she was in the hospital in a coma Mateo visited at least once a week. At the urging of staff suggesting he talk to her, he did just that. The news would be read to her, there would be updates on her case or just him talking through what little he had, and he'd apologize for not making any progress. Her case had quickly become the one that took him over. It wasn't easy for the seasoned detective to solve, and even more frustrating that Mateo couldn't seem to find a road to travel down. When she woke he remained close to her, perhaps a little too close, and struggled with the professional boundary line.

Now, at 38, his mother has reached out to him. Sick and with not much time left Mateo's under even more pressure to find out where things went wrong in the past. There's some secrets he knows he has to uncover and most days he's not sure if he wants to. What he has never told anyone, not his therapist when he was adopted or his sister before they were separated, was that he still has the note his father left.

[iww-gnv]

ATLANTA, Ga. (Atlanta News First) - Negotiations are at a standstill in Hollywood as the Writers Guild of America strike continues. On Tuesday, Atlanta members of SAG-AFTRA, the actors and artists union, will gather for a rally at the Teamsters Hall in Atlanta in support of their ongoing strike and in recognition of a National Day of Solidarity. The writers strike started on May 2, shutting down most TV and film production in the U.S. In July, SAG-AFTRA voted unanimously to go on strike, joining the writers guild. They made the decision following failed negotiations with the Alliance of Motion Picture and TV Producers. What performers want is higher wages to keep up with inflation. They’re also asking for protections against AI so their voices and likeness cannot be used without their permission.

[Read the rest]

[atlurbanist]

Stop being scared to ask for public benefits

Anyone else think it's weird that billions of dollars have been made by movies that were filmed in Atlanta (with our public streets blocked for many film shoots) and yet we don't have enough money to fund a functional DOT or to maintain sidewalks? Or to build a network of protected bike lanes?

Powerful people make a lot of money off of Atlanta in different ways, often without creating a better place in the process.

It's an issue that extends to owners of under-taxed commercial properties as well, who fail to provide adequate revenue for public services.

Atlanta has been too eager to accommodate big interests while expecting nebulous trickle-down benefits that seldom arrive.

We need to stop being timid about demanding public benefits as a return for the major investments (and big profits) that happen in Atlanta.

There's always this fear that we'll "scare away" businesses if we try to ask for too much. So we end up being timid, scared, and walking on precarious streets.

[heart-gamer]

Secret ( heartbeat fetish story )

In the vibrant city of Atlanta, lived a woman named Rebecca Thompson. By day, she worked as a waitress at a local cafe, but when the sun set, Rebecca delved into a secret world as a heartbeat fetish model. Driven by financial struggles and a desire for independence, she had discovered a lucrative opportunity to film videos that catered to the unique desires of the heartbeat fetish community.

Rebecca possessed a rare and captivating trait—a strong and visible heartbeat. This made her performances highly sought after and quickly earned her a devoted following within the community. However, her secret remained hidden from the world, known only to her closest confidant, her cousin Emily.

One day, Emily found herself in desperate need of money. She turned to Rebecca, seeking assistance. Recognizing an opportunity to help her cousin, Rebecca encouraged Emily to explore the world of heartbeat fetish modeling. She saw potential in Emily's own visible heartbeat, which she had noticed one night while Emily was sleeping. Rebecca believed that Emily could meet her financial ends by becoming a heartbeat fetish model just like her.

With trepidation and curiosity, Emily agreed to follow in Rebecca's footsteps, adopting the persona of Amara Heartwood. Rebecca became her mentor, guiding her through the intricacies of captivating the heartbeat fetish community with her visible pulse.

As Rebecca's reputation grew, she caught the attention of a prominent member of the community, Samuel Hayes. Samuel, known for his exclusive and unconventional desires, extended a rare invitation to Rebecca for a private session. Eager to please and further her success, Rebecca accepted the invitation, unaware of the dark fate that awaited her.

The night of the private session arrived, and Rebecca prepared for her breath-hold performance, displaying her captivating heartbeat to enthrall Samuel. But in a shocking turn of events, tragedy struck. Rebecca was brutally killed, her life extinguished in an instant.

News of Rebecca's death reverberated through the heartbeat fetish community, leaving its members shocked and grief-stricken. The loss of such a talented and beloved model with a unique visible heartbeat sent shockwaves through their tight-knit world.

Detective Nathan Rodriguez, a seasoned investigator with a reputation for solving intricate cases, was assigned to uncover the truth behind Rebecca's murder. As he delved into the twisted world of the heartbeat fetish community, he encountered a maze of secrets, desires, and dark obsessions.

As Detective Rodriguez peeled back the layers of secrecy, suspicions began to arise among the community members. The killer had left behind little evidence, displaying a cleverness that challenged the detective's skills. With each interview and clue, the investigation became a race against time to unveil the truth and bring the killer to justice.

In a stunning revelation, Detective Rodriguez discovered that the killer was none other than Rebecca's own brother, Jason Thompson. He had long harbored a dark and taboo heartbeat fetish, which had driven him to commit the unthinkable. The realization shook the community to its core, as they struggled to comprehend the depth of Jason's depravity.

With solid evidence in hand, Detective Rodriguez confronted Jason, bringing him to justice for the heinous crime he had committed against his own sister. The community, torn apart by the shocking revelation, slowly began to heal, leaning on one another for support in the aftermath of the tragedy.

Rebecca's memory served as a reminder of the dangers that lurked within their community, a cautionary tale that prompted them to prioritize safety and create a more vigilant environment. The loss of such a talented model with a visible heartbeat became a catalyst for change, as they vowed to protect one another from the darkness that could infiltrate their shared desires.

Atlanta's streets witnessed a community transformed, where trust was rebuilt, and the pursuit of their passions was accompanied by a renewed commitment to safety. Rebecca's legacy lived on, not just as a gifted heartbeat fetish model, but as a beacon of resilience, reminding them to cherish their desires while remaining vigilant against the shadows that may lie within.

[heyharoldsboo]

I looked over the "evidence". I know there are confusions but I think I got it and I want to make sure I understand. Sorry im the anon who discovered your blog not too long ago.

So Karis, Kayla and Desiree went to school with Percy. Aries when to a different school but was friends with his supposed minor Percy hooked up with. This minor left her to OD and went to hook up with Percy. Aries also claims Percy touched her back and hips, made innuendos and asked her to chill (SA according to her) at a party she attended in his famous basement.

Karis, Kayla, Lena Desiree, Percy, Brycen were all a part of the same toxic messed up group of friends. They all protected Brycen who is an abuser. The girls were victims and are allowed to grow and become better people but Percy is not. Desiree was manipulated by Brycen into protecting him. She even got into a physical fight with one of his victims and messed up a lot of people's lives to protect him. Lena was Percy's gf for a while. Her and Karis were bffs. Karis and Percy apparently also hooked up and Percy lead her on, played with her feelings. He apologized for this later but she didnt accept. (ss shared by kayla, a convo with Karis and Percy) She says this was abuse. I dont know what happened to Lena because Percy and her seem to be on good terms and she somehow still follows Karis and vice versa.

Desiree says that in another timeline, she was raped by Ralph, a friend of Percy. She says Percy let it happen and when she asked Percy for help he said ok I need to ask around because it is a very delicate situation and i have never done this before. (ss shared by desiree of the convo of her and Percy)

So the problems:

-timeline of when these weekly parties were happening because he was in Atlanta filming the Gifted as well?

-no one directly accused him of rape, just being friends with shit people and enabling, letting them live in his house, is that it? but if this Brycen guy was such an ass, why were so many women protecting him? what was 16 year old Percy supposed to do, mind control them all into leaving this guy behind? like what?

-these girls refused to share the rest of their convos with him, just very limited screen shots. He admits to playing with Karis feelings, thats it. With Desiree, he says he has never had to deal wit rape issues before. If he was throwing wild parties every week where girls were getting assaulted, how is this the first time he was having to deal with this? Im confused

-kayla also shared an ss where she tells him "i can tell you who to call if you want this to end, if you are afraid I will out our DMs"...isnt this kind of blackmail? what did she mean by that?

-as for Aries, i dont mean to define what assault means for each person but I dont think what she described qualifies as assault. And when she described it she said she knows it is not violent and that people will say its nothing....this is where im like "she knows what shes doing"

-where were his parents during all this though? did he live alone, im confused

-who leaked his nudes, who had his nudes? how did everything get leaked so fast? was this premeditated you think? the toilet ones are not nudes you send to minor pretty please they were terrible. You send dick pics to girls, not pics after you took a shit. Those were probably for his guy friends.

-the twitter and insta likes accusations I will not even discuss cuz they're stupid and people gotta get a grip

Did I miss anything? did I understand this correctly?

sorry for having to catch up

Anon, that's a really really good recap of this shitshow, honestly!

-kayla also shared an ss where she tells him "i can tell you who to call if you want this to end, if you are afraid I will out our DMs"…isnt this kind of blackmail? what did she mean by that?

Well, I think this was blackmail and extortion. For me, they were trying to get money out of him to not let this blow in the internet.

-where were his parents during all this though? did he live alone, im confused

There are a lot of conflicting statements about how these parties whent and how frequent they were. He was not in the city for long periods of time, so I can't see him giving parties in Toronto every weekend.

-who leaked his nudes, who had his nudes? how did everything get leaked so fast? was this premeditated you think? the toilet ones are not nudes you send to minor pretty please they were terrible. You send dick pics to girls, not pics after you took a shit. Those were probably for his guy friends.

His toilet/bathtub pics were leaked in 2019 in a porn website. Others were leaked through ghost accounts during this shithow. And I agree, these aren't "sexy" nudes.

Edit on this helped by my wonderful friend @lilitblaukatz :

On the porn site in 2019-2020 (hard to tell more accurately) were posted CP pictures (about ten of them), all taken in some basement in one session. At least one new of that same series of pictures was posted on Twitter several days after the mess started on Jan 19. Bathroom/bedroom pictures without showing anything inappropriate wasn't on any website. It was leaked with the allegations and exist in a form of phones' photos, not even original photos.

I don't think you missed anything? That's mostly it.

And don't worry about catching up! We're here for you <3