#civil war press tour

[musette22]

2016 // 2024

[insert-stupid-username]

[marciabrady]

"He was a struggling actor when he and Mother met. She had just returned from a war-bond selling tour." While only seen in minor roles, Stephen Crane was the charmer of Hollywood and had gone out with every female star, from Betty Grable to Lucille Ball. On three back-to-back nights, he took Lana Turner out, then Ava Gardner, then Rita Hayworth- a move which was considered legendary, even by Hollywood standards. Lana was his favorite though, after the dissolution of their marriage, he had a brief affair with Rita in the 1940s. "They had known each other anywhere from a few weeks to a few months (depending on who's telling the story) before July 17, 1942, when they flew to Las Vegas and got married. Their union was sealed by the same justice of peace who joined her in wedlock to Artie Shaw. 'Tie it tighter this time, Judge,' said Mother to Judge Marshall. "I think Mother always had a hold on his heart. My father never said a word against her. He was always very protective to the point of getting into fights with her suitors long after they split [like Frank Sinatra]. Frank wouldn't go to any of my father's restaurants, even when they were the most popular places to go. They got into public fights over Mother a few times, before and after my parents married. Frank thought that Dad was some sort of gigolo, not good enough for mother. The first time I know of them ever being civil to each other was at my twenty-first birthday party, in 1964.After her divorce from Bob Topping and his from Martine Carol in 1953, I recall him asking at the end of one of our Sunday outings if she ever asked me about him and if I thought there was a chance they might get back together. 'Well, I don't know,' I said. I was thrilled, but Mom wasn't interested in reuniting with Stephen. After he passed away, I found a couple of scrapbooks he had. Of all the press he received over the years, all he had held onto were those from the time of his marriage to Mother." -Cheryl Crane

LANA TURNER & STEPHEN CRANE footage from a Los Angeles Air Base during WWII, 1943

[workersolidarity]

[ 📹 Despite the widespread destruction caused by the Israeli genocide, ongoing in the Gaza Strip, and despite the Zionist entity's destruction of all Mosques in Gaza, the resilience and determination of Palestinians, strong in their Muslim faith, cannot be diminished as a Palestinian man calls for morning prayers while standing stop the rubble of demolished homes in the city of Khan Yunis, south of Gaza. ]

🇮🇱⚔️🇵🇸 🚀🏘️💥🚑 🚨

261 DAYS OF ISRAELI GENOCIDE IN GAZA: INDIA PROVIDING MUNITIONS TO THE ZIONIST ENTITY SINCE START OF WAR, PROTESTS GRIP TEL AVIV, NETANYAHU CLAIMS US DECREASES WEAPONS SUPPLIES, UNRWA: 69% OF SCHOOLS HOUSING DISPLACED PALESTINIANS HAVE BEEN BOMBED, GENOCIDE GOES ON

On 261st day of the Israeli occupation's ongoing special genocide operation in the Gaza Strip, the Israeli occupation forces (IOF) committed a total of 3 new massacres of Palestinian families, resulting in the deaths of no less than 47 Palestinian civilians, mostly women and children, while another 121 others were wounded over the previous 24-hours.

It should be noted that as a result of the constant Israeli bombardment of Gaza's healthcare system, infrastructure, residential and commercial buildings, local paramedic and civil defense crews are unable to recover countless hundreds, even thousands, of victims who remain trapped under the rubble, or who's bodies remain strewn across the streets of Gaza.

This leaves the official death toll vastly undercounted as Gaza's healthcare officials are unable to accurately tally those killed and maimed in this genocide, which must be kept in mind when considering the scale of the mass murder.

The Zionist entity has sent Defense Minister Yoav Gallant to the United States on a reconciliation tour after video released by the occupation Prime Minister, Benjamin Netanyahu, over the weekend accused the United States of decreasing weapons transfers to the Israeli occupation army.

Gallant will meet with senior Biden administration officials to discuss security issues, including the slow down of arms transfers to the Zionist entity, while the US administration continues to express concern over a planned visit by Netanyahu where he will give a speech before the United States Congress.

According to reporting in the Hebrew media, the Biden administration remains concerned that the Israeli Prime Minister could attack the administration during his speech before Congress for the supposed slow-down of arms transfers, which the White House still denies.

Despite intense push-back from the Biden administration, Netanyahu stuck by his criticisms at a Cabinet meeting on Sunday, continuing to accuse the US administration of slow-rolling munitions sales to the Zionist entity.

"Netanyahu's video was puzzling, to say the least," said John Kirby, spokesman for the National Security Council at the White House, speaking at a press conference on Saturday.

"We did not know that this video would be published, and the statements made in it disturb and disappoint the United States, especially considering that no other country is doing more than us to help Israel defend itself against the threat of Hamas. Netanyahu's statements about the supply of weapons were incorrect. Israel will not be harmed by our new priorities," Kirby added.

Meanwhile, back at home, the Netanyahu administration endures large-scale protests calling for a hostage exchange deal to be settled, with tens of thousands of Israelis spilling out onto the streets of Tel Aviv on Saturday night.

Organizers said it was the largest anti-government protest to date, while video from the protests showed violent police suppression, some on horseback, with dozens arrested during the night after the protesters blocked the city's main highway.

Protesters say they demand their government negotiate a hostage exchange deal, even if it means ending the war in the Gaza Strip.

On October 7th, 2023, Palestinian resistance factions broke out of the outdoor prison that is the Gaza Strip, raiding Israeli settlements and taking approximately 120 hostages back to the enclave.

By some estimates, just 50 of those hostages remain alive after 9 months of Israeli bombardment of the Gaza Strip, which according to the Hamas resistance group, has killed roughly half of the hostages.

Meanwhile, as the Israeli assault on the Gaza Strip continues, the United Nations Relief and Works Agency for Palestinian refugees (UNRWA) has issued a statement declaring that 69% of the UNRWA schools in Gaza that housed displaced Palestinian families during the war have been bombed by the Israeli occupation army, leaving them either destroyed or partially damaged.

The UNRWA made the announcement via its account on the social media platform X, stating that according to the Global Education Cluster, an educational organization affiliated with UNICEF, "69% of school buildings where displaced families were seeking shelter have been directly hit or damaged."

"This blatant disregard of humanitarian law must stop. We need a ceasefire now," UNRWA added.

In other news, according to the Hebrew media site Yedioth Ahronoth (Ynet), India has been providing the Israeli occupation with munitions since the very start of the war in Gaza, delivering countless tons of military aid to the Zionist army.

"India stands firm in its support of Israel amid the war in Gaza and supplies it with advanced drones made in the country despite growing Pro-Palestinian calls from its Muslim demographic," the Ynet article states.

According to the article, back in May, Spanish authorities prevented an Indian ship carrying over 27 tons of munitions destined for the ports of occupied Palestine from docking at the port of Cartagena in southeast Spain.

"The incident highlights the fact that India has been providing significant military assistance to Israel since October 7th," Ynet said in the piece.

Back in February, the Indian media reported that India was supplying the Israeli entity with advanced Hermes 900 drones, which are manufactured in the Indian city of Hyderabad.

Ynet says the Indian media reported that the factory, which was established by the Zionist entity to supply the Hermes drones to the Indian military, converted at least 20 of the drones specifically for the occupation army due to a shortage resulting from the war in Gaza.

Meanwhile, the Zionist entity continues its genocide against the Palestinian population of the Gaza Strip, slaughtering civilians by the hundreds each week and obliterating the enclave's medical and public infrastructure.

On Sunday morning, June 23rd, local media reported that at least 5 Palestinian civilians were killed as a result of the Israeli occupation's bombardment of central and western Gaza City.

In one of the incidents, a correspondant with Palestinian news agency WAFA reported that Zionist warplanes bombed a residential building near the Al-Jawhara Tower in central Gaza City, resulting in the deaths of 3 Palestinians and wounding several others, including women and children.

Similarly, two civilians were killed, and a number of others injured, as a result of an Israeli air raid targeting a residential house in the Al-Shati Refugee Camp, also known as the Beach Camp, west of Gaza City.

Additionally, the Israeli occupation army intermittently bombed the center and south of Rafah, in the southern Gaza Strip.

As a result of the Israeli occupation's ongoing bombardment of residential neighborhoods of Gaza City, at least 43 Palestinians were killed on Saturday according to local healthcare sources, while scores of others were wounded in Zionist airstrikes and artillery shelling.

The mass murder continued when the Israeli occupation forces on Sunday bombed a residential house in the Al-Sabra neighborhood, south of Gaza City, massacreing 8 civilians and wounding dozens of others.

Simultaneously, the Israeli occupation army also used a drone to bomb a gathering of civilians near the power station north of the Nuseirat Refugee Camp, in the central Gaza Strip, killing two Palestinians and injuring several others.

Similarly, Zionist artillery shelling pummeled the western and southern neighborhoods of Rafah, south of Gaza, while Zionist soldiers detonated a number of residential buildings in the Brazil neighborhood, south of Rafah, continuing the systematic destruction of residential areas of the city after deconstructing nearly the entire Saudi neighborhood.

According to local reports, in the city of Rafah, the Israeli occupation forces have destroyed hundreds of homes in the Saudi neighborhood in the west and center of the city, detonating entire residential squares using explosives.

The Israeli occupation's massacres and atrocities continued with the Zionist army's bombing of the main eastern gate for the headquarters of the UNRWA, southwest of Gaza City, slaughtering at least 5 civilians and wounding 7 others.

According to local reporting, Zionist warplanes targeted the guard room at the main eastern gate for the UNRWA headquarters in the Tal al-Hawa neighborhood, southwest of Gaza City, resulting in the deaths of 5 Palestinians, some of whom were "dismembered" by the attack, and also wounding 7 others, including women and children who were transported to Al-Ahli Baptist Hospital in the city.

Prior to publishing, another news alert was issued by WAFA News Agency, reporting that the Zionist army had bombed in the vicinity of the tents of displaced Palestinian families near the Vocational Training College of the UNRWA, west of Gaza City, murdering at least 8 Palestinians.

Another strike by the Israeli occupation forces targeted residential areas of the Al-Sabra neighborhood, south of Gaza City, killing 9 more civilians and wounding several others.

According to local Civil Defense crews, rescue efforts recovered the bodies of 3 Palestinians and several wounded civilians as a result of Zionist fighter jets that bombed a residential house belonging to the Ja'rour family, in the vicinity of the Dabit area of central Gaza City.

Meanwhile, in the Bureij Camp, in the central Gaza Strip, a female Palestinian civilian was killed, and several others wounded, as a result of an Israeli occupation airstrike on the "Meet" family home in the Camp, while another strike on a group of civilians in the Nuseirat Camp killed one Palestinian and wounded a number of others.

As a result of the Israeli occupation's ongoing war of extermination in the Gaza Strip, the infinitely rising death toll now exceeds 37'598 Palestinians killed, including upwards of 10'000 women and over 15'000 children, while another 86'032 othrrs have been wounded as a result of the current round of Zionist aggression, beginning with the events of October 7th, 2023.

June 23rd, 2024

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#videosource

@WorkerSolidarityNews

[buffshipper8490]

RATED EXPLICIT

SUMMARY

Asami gives Korra an exclusive tour of Future Industries' sex toy division...

EXCERPT

"So how exactly did Future Industries get into the sex toy market?" Korra asked as her and Asami walked through the double doors of the department inside the Sato family's business building, Future Industries. "Well, after all of his business dealings with the Water Tribe Civil War and with Kuvira and the Earth Empire bit him in the ass, Varrick decided his personal business mantra was to 'Make Love Not War' and invested in R&D for much of what you see here," Asami replied, gesturing to the racks and racks of various sex toys, devices, and S&M rigs. "It's harmless enough, and honestly, I've actually gotten into developing some of these products myself." "Really?" Korra raised her eyebrows. "Like what?" Asami took Korra's hand and led her to a small handheld device with a glowing end. She pressed a button and the device hummed softly. "Like this," Asami explained. "I reverse-engineered the technology that went into the electroshock gloves we took from the Equalists and innovated the device you see here, lowering the voltage considerably, of course." Korra took it and felt the vibration in her hands. "Go ahead and touch the tip," Asami suggested. Korra touched the glowing end. A small electrical charge ran up her finger. She jerked her hand back in surprise and looked at Asami quizzically. "Did it hurt?" Asami asked, concerned. Korra shook the tingling out of her hand. "No. Not at all! My finger just tingles. It's weird." "It's a vibrator that delivers a minute current of electricity to maximally stimulate the nerve endings," Asami winked. "Very effective." Korra looked at her hand, still feeling the tingling. "I bet." Asami discretely put the device in her jacket and continued her tour of the sex toy department. Korra was bemused at the array of devices and sex aids— she had always preferred the old fashioned way, the natural way: a rock-hard dick or a few fingers in her pussy or ass. A tasty pussy that she could coax the juice out of or a cock that she could milk dry. If it ain't broken, don't fix it. "You don't seem very interested in any of the merchandise in here," Asami pointed out, sounding rather disappointed. Korra shrugged, blushing slightly. "I dunno... I just feel like many of these are trying to come up with a solution to a problem that doesn't exist. Call me a country girl or whatever but I just don't see the need for the majority of this stuff. Your tongue... your hands... that's all I need to be happy." "Thanks," Asami blushed. "I get that... but all of this stuff isn't meant to replace that. It's meant to enhance it. Sex aids, not sex replacements." Korra was still unconvinced. "Oh, you're gonna make me take out the big guns, aren't you?" Asami tugged her arm. "C'mon. Let me show you what else we've been working on."

Likes ❤️ and Reblogs 🔁 are much appreciated!

[cable-knit-sweater]

Cries forever // same 😭😭😭 is Seb also wearing the St. Christopher necklace?

Wellll, we obviously don’t know for sure, but I’ve decided they are. I mean:

via x by @riricitaa

They just look TOO similar. And let’s not forget this:

Clearly Chris gave Sebastian one, probably during the civil war press honeymoon tour 😏 (see also: ringgate). Or at least, that’s what I believe!! Especially since they both wore different St. Christopher’s pendants before:

And now they’re wearing more similar ones. Possibly the same. You can’t change my mind 😂 And it’s so incredibly cuteee 🥺🥰

[buckysimp101]

Just here to say that this Variety interview with Seb is giving 2016 Civil War Press Tour Seb (it’s totally the hair) but oh my god he’s still so fine 😭

(^^^ it’s these vibes)

[gay-jewish-bucky]

"I think there's been a lot of, uh, similar life experiences, even though we've both kind of been in different parts of the world for the last 70 years. I think we're both kind of, uh, missing a piece of our hearts."

—Chris Evans (Captain America: Civil War Press Tour Beijing, 2016)

[musette22]

How intently was Chris staring at Seb that he noticed a tiny spider on him? And it was on his pants too. Did Chris just happen to be looking there?

I mean, can we really blame Chris for staring at the thighs of betrayal when he gets the chance? 😌 The interview probably wasn't half as interesting as Sebastian's thighs were... This whole thing is so cute, Chris is notoriously not very fond of spiders and he's noticeably a little worried about it, and Seb is just like "don't worry Chris, it's just a little guy, look" 🥰 Adorable

Gif credit @kittyseb from this post

[wenellyb]

Actually girl, let's discuss seb and anthony for a moment --- do you by any chance remember that one really heartfelt and tender bday post he made from him a couple of years ago? I think that energy lives on and translates through these roles.

What do you think will happen with these upcoming MCU projects of theirs - any mentions of one another or interactions with each other? Do you think we'll get another mini series?

Hi again Anon!!!

Of course, how could I forget! Anthony and Sebastian always had a great (work) friendship and great chemistry, and I think that it's why they kept giving them those scenes together in Civil War, Endgame and they even got their own show because of it! They really work well together and their friendship works so well on screen. Kevin Feige's words not mine.

I don't think we'll see any more posts like these in the near future because my man Anthony is barely on social media and Sebastian doesn't seem to use it either (maybe he got tired of his stans like we all did😂).

Honeslty, we were robbed from a proper press tour, and with the strikes who knows when they'll start shooting new MCU content.

Not to be that person, but I don't think we'll see them in another mini series, I don't think there was supposed to be a 2nd Season to TFATWS which is too bad but at least we have the movies.

With the Sag strikes, I'm not really sure what's gonna happen in the MCU, Cap4 release date was already postponed and it could be postponed again, same for Thunderbolts. The good thing is that at least Cap 4 finished filming so there's a Big chance it will Indeed come out in 2024.

I don't know about any other project they'll do together but if it's any consolation I'm 99,99% sure that Bucky will appear in Cap 4 or that Sam will appear in Thunderbolts. It'll probably be a small cameo but we'll see them together on screen then.

One thing I've thought about also is that I would love to see them work together on a non-MCU related project, I'm sure it would be fun, maybe that buddy cop movie they have been asking for for 7 years😂.

What about you? Do you think we'll see them together again soon?

[beefromanoff]

Going Under Ch. 30

summary: Gianna and Bucky getting used to their new normal. Gianna performs for the first time since her tour.

characters: Bucky Barnes x OC

soundtrack: Silver Springs - Fleetwood Mac

warnings: fluff, pop star fantasy x love story, set in an AU where the Avengers reunite after Civil War, pre-infinity war, slight angst, hurt/comfort, lonely reader/OC.

author’s note: more angst, so many emotions! this is the plan I've had for this story for SO LONG. I am so so glad to finally get to write it, as painful and sad as it was. it has to hurt before it can get better. pls trust me.

ilysm, thank you for reading! please let me know what you think!

chapter list

________________________________

Gianna

The early morning air in New York was crisp, announcing the slow arrival of spring. Gianna, wrapped in an embarrassingly expensive coat, sat alone at the patio of a small coffee shop near her apartment. The sun was barely making its way over the buildings, casting long shadows on the empty streets. It was a place she and Bucky had never visited, a quiet spot she had discovered on her own. As much as she longed for the comfort of old familiar shops, she couldn’t help but feel thankful to have found places untouched by painful memories.

The aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the air as Gianna sipped her cappuccino, staring into the swirls of foam. The city, usually bustling with life, felt calm and distant at this hour.

As she lost herself in thoughts, she didn’t notice two teenage girls approaching nervously. They wore wide smiles that faltered a bit when Gianna lifted her eyes to them. The apprehension in their eyes betrayed a mix of excitement and hesitation.

"Excuse me, Gianna Cruz?" one of them stammered.

A gentle smile played on Gianna's lips as she nodded, "Guilty."

The girls exchanged glances, building the courage to make their request. "Could we take a photo with you?" one finally blurted out.

"Of course," Gianna replied, her smile widening. She stood up, setting her cup down, and posed for a selfie that would undoubtedly end up on social media. Fortunately, she positioned herself against a relatively nondescript wall, hoping her new favorite location wouldn’t be broadcast to the world.

The girls buzzed with energy as they bumped into each other while leaving. “Oh,” One of them turned back to Gianna. “I’m sorry about Bucky. We were rooting for you guys.” 

Gianna gave a polite smile, ignoring the twist in her gut. “Thank you.”

As the girls thanked her again and walked away, their nervous energy palpable, Gianna returned to her seat. She checked her phone, a habit born out of the loneliness that had crept back into her life.

A text to Tom, her manager, sat unsent. She’d typed and deleted it over and over again in the past few weeks as she tried to establish a new normal. This time, she pressed send instead of delete. 

I’m ready to perform again.

Bucky

The training room in the Avengers Compound echoed with the thuds of fists striking pads, boots scraping against the mat, and the grunts of exertion. Bucky, clad in his training gear, led a group of SHIELD agents through an intense combat training session. His movements were swift, precise, and laced with a barely-controlled aggression that seemed to cut through the air.

Something was off. It had been for weeks.

Steve and Natasha stood on the sidelines, watching their friend with furrowed brows. Bucky's formerly stoic composure was replaced by an intensity that bordered on ferocity. Each correction he made was sharper, each word a biting rebuke. The harshness of his training was a mirror of the turmoil within him. They’d hoped that it would improve with the more time that passed since Gianna’s departure, but it had only gotten worse.

An agent faltered in executing a particular maneuver, and Bucky's reaction was enough to silence the whole room. 

"No, no, no!" he barked, his voice cutting through the room. "You're leaving yourself wide open. What if your life depended on this? You'd be dead!"

Steve exchanged a concerned glance with Natasha. This wasn't the Bucky they knew. He was always sharp, intense, but this was different — a raw anger fueled by something deeper.

Natasha whispered, "Steve, we can't let him continue like this. He's pushing them too hard. He's hurting, and it's bleeding into everything he does."

Steve nodded solemnly. "I'll talk to him."

As the training session ended and the agents filed out, looking more dejected than usual, Steve approached Bucky. The echoes of combat had faded, leaving a tense silence in their wake.

"Bucky, can we talk?" Steve's voice was calm, a stark contrast to his friend’s demeanor.

Bucky glanced at Steve as he began to wrap his hands for sparring.  "Not really in the mood to talk right now."

Steve persisted, his concern unwavering. "You’re not okay, Buck. We've all noticed. You're snapping at everyone. Let me help."

Bucky's jaw clenched, and for a moment, the ghost of the Winter Soldier seemed to flash behind his eyes. "I said not now."

Steve frowned as he watched Bucky finish wrapping his hands and begin to strike the punching bag. Picking his battles, he turned and slowly left the room. 

Gianna

The green room buzzed with activity as Gianna prepared for her appearance on The Tonight Show. Kate, her longtime makeup artist, applied the finishing touches like they were back in the old days of touring. The scent of hairspray and the hum of anticipation filled the room.

As Kate delicately worked on Gianna's makeup, the singer's mind drifted to a time when this routine was a familiar prelude to the bright lights and applause of a concert stage. She remembered another green room, far away from the studio here at 30 Rockefeller Plaza, where Bucky would wait with her, sharing a quiet moment before the chaos began.

The memories played in her mind like an old film reel. Bucky's calm presence, the shared candy, the laughs and the way his hands felt helping her in and out of her sequin bodysuits. There was a warmth in those memories that contrasted sharply with the chill of the present.

"Gianna, you're up in five," a stage manager peeked in, bringing her back to the present.

She took a deep breath, suppressing the twinge of nostalgia. "Thanks," she said, steeling herself to put her public persona back on. After a few final touch ups, she slid into her heels and was ready to go face the world for the first time since her press conference all those months ago.

The stage manager ushered her through the backstage area of the iconic Tonight Show set. The familiar sight stirred a mix of nerves and anticipation. The last time she was on a stage like this, Bucky stood in the wings. Now she was alone. She shook her head to clear it of the one thing she couldn’t afford to think about and plastered a fake, but dazzling smile on her face just as she stepped into the stage lights.

The interview with Jimmy Fallon began with casual banter, what she loved his show for in the first place. He asked all the pre-approved questions about her outfit, her new label, rumors that she was making a cameo in an upcoming film. Ever the charismatic host, he teased about the mysteries of her time away and what happened at the famed Avengers’ Compound. Practiced in the art of deflecting, she steered clear of specifics, smiling and evading with the skill of a seasoned celebrity.

"So, Gianna, what's next for you?" Jimmy asked, sipping his coffee.

Gianna grinned, a glint of mischief in her eyes. "Well, Jimmy, let's just say, the stage missed me as much as I missed it. Stay tuned, because the tour might be making a comeback very soon."

The audience erupted into applause, only calming down when prompted by the monitors off camera.

"And what about the time off? Any inspiration for new music?" Jimmy prodded.

Gianna's expression remained composed. "It's been a journey, and I'm excited about what's to come. As for new music, I guess you’ll just have to wait and see."

Jimmy nodded, accepting the enigmatic response. "Well, Gianna, we can't wait for your performance later. Stick around, folks. We'll be right back after this break!"

The stage lights dimmed as the show cut to commercial, leaving Gianna with a moment of respite before the live performance. She stood as foreign hands removed her wired microphone and gave her a handheld. For a moment, she felt like she traveled straight back into the past. The weight of the microphone in her hand, the heat of the stage lights. She swore if she looked to her right, she’d see Bucky’s grinning face shielded from the crowd by the thick black curtain. 

Bucky

The spacious living room of the Avengers Compound was bathed in the flickering glow of the television. Sam sprawled, Wanda perched on the armrest, Peter lounging on the floor with a bag of snacks, and Natasha in her customary spot in the corner of the massive sectional. The atmosphere, usually vibrant with banter and camaraderie, felt subdued.

As the team waited for Bucky and Steve to return from their mission, the silence of the room was disrupted by the familiar sound of studio applause as the commercial break ended. The Tonight Show played on the large screen, Jimmy Fallon engaging the audience with his infectious energy as he introduced the first guest, none other than Gianna Cruz.

The atmosphere shifted slightly as Gianna's smiling face appeared on the screen. An involuntary hush swept through the room, replacing the calm with a more somber air as they watched her walk across the set to take her seat by Jimmy. Wanda broke the silence.

"I miss her," she said, her eyes fixed on the television.

The sentiment hung in the room, acknowledged by shared glances but unsaid for a while. 

Natasha added, "It's been quieter since she left."

"Yeah, things aren't the same without her." Peter toyed with the hem of the blanket on his lap

Wanda sighed, "She looks happy, though."

Natasha shared a small smile. "She deserves to be."

The team had purposefully avoided discussing Gianna in Bucky's presence, out of respect for his feelings. Yet, the absence of her laughter and vivacity had left a void that echoed through the Compound. Wanda had tried to keep the team dinners alive, but without Gianna to help cook, it was a tall task. Not to mention that Bucky preferred solitude these days anyway.

As the interview progressed, they admired Gianna's poise and the way she navigated the questions. Her makeup was flawless, her smile bright and cheeks rosy, but her eyes were smokier than usual. The dark liner was different, bringing a new intensity to her face. Hearing her voice in the common room felt familiar and foreign now that several weeks had passed and changed so much. With the chaos of the night she left, no one had really gotten to say goodbye to Gianna. Nat, being the one who flew her back to New York, came the closest. All they really exchanged was a sad hug and courtesy of Nat allowing her to cry in silence the whole flight back to the city. Wanda took it the hardest, second only to Bucky. She’d grown accustomed to having her friend around, and now her absence left a glaring hole.

In a fleeting moment of vulnerability, Wanda whispered, "I really hope she's doing well."

Gianna

In the studio, the set was simply a microphone stand and the musicians cloaked in shadow behind her, a stark contrast to Gianna's usual vibrant and glittering performances. Tonight, she stood resplendent in a sleek black dress, a departure from her signature pastels and sequins. She’d told her stylist she wanted a change. She wouldn’t admit it, but the dark colors were her way of mourning the love she lost and the life she dreamt of with it.

“I know everyone’s waiting for new music, but tonight I thought I’d pay tribute to one of my favorite bands, Fleetwood Mac. This song has always been beautiful, but it’s been especially resonating with me lately.” She gave a small smile. “I hope you enjoy.” 

As the haunting chords of Fleetwood Mac's "Silver Springs" began, Gianna closed her eyes and felt the warmth of the stage lights enveloping her. She wrapped her hands around the microphone and began to sing. 

Bucky

Heavy footsteps sounded in the kitchen and grew louder toward the living room. Steve and Bucky rounded the corner, still fully dressed in their uniforms. Steve’s helmet sat on his head, the chinstrap unbuttoned. Bucky’s hair was tousled, his eyebrow cut. Dirt and exhaustion covered both of their faces after being gone for two days. Steve paused, Bucky nearly running into him. His blue eyes locked onto the screen and the woman standing there.

The room's energy shifted, an unspoken tension taking hold. Natasha moved to change the channel, but Bucky's restrained voice stopped her. 

"Don't."

Gianna

And can you tell me was it worth it?

Baby, I don't want to know

Her voice was guttural, haunting. She sang with her eyes closed, brows knit together.

Steve shot Bucky a worried look, his own concern mirroring that of the rest of the team. Bucky didn’t move, every muscle tense.

Time cast a spell on you, but you won't forget me

I know I could have loved you

But you would not let me

Gianna's voice soared, a raw and soulful rendition of the song. The song, clearly chosen with purpose, echoed throughout the common room. The team carefully observed Bucky's reaction, realizing that the song's poignant lyrics struck a chord deep within him. He stayed rooted in place, but his jaw was clenched, eyes wide.

I'll follow you down 'til the sound of my voice will haunt you 

Give me just a chance

She clutched the microphone, barely moving as her voice and soul took over. All the words she wanted to say to Bucky, all the emotions she wanted to let overflow. She wanted to scream at him, throw things at him, fall at his feet and weep. She hated him for being the reason she wasn’t able to love him.

She wouldn’t, couldn’t, reach out to him. Her pride made her block his phone number as soon as she landed in New York. She had pages and pages of notes and half-written songs, all things she wanted to say to him. None of them felt ready to share with the world. This song captured all of her heartache, her anger. She hoped somehow, wherever he was, he was watching. She hoped the words hit him like a knife in the chest like his words that night had hit her. She hoped this song, her face, would haunt him like that last night still haunted her.

Opening her eyes, she let her voice turn raw and angry as she launched into the next line.

You'll never get away from the sound of the woman that loves you

Bucky

As Gianna poured her heart into the song, the realization hit Bucky like a tidal wave. The haunting melody intertwined with his thoughts, and for a moment, the past seemed to converge with the present. He heard her voice now, but saw her then. City after city, night after night. Singing her heart out, seeking him out backstage. Running into his arms after a show. Smiling, chest heaving, glistening in sweat…she’d made him fall back in love with being alive. She was light, color, music. She was a sunny day, a rainbow. She was everything good about the world. Until…him.

Bucky's inner turmoil unfolded on his face, visible to the team. 

The woman on the screen before him was a shell of the one he knew. She wasn’t smiling as she sang. She didn’t dance or spin onstage. Her outfit was as devoid of color as his life felt. Even through the screen, he could see the anguish on her face, in the way her brows knit together.

Her kohl-lined eyes flew open as her voice reached a new intensity, a near growl, and she seemed to stare directly at him. 

You'll never get away from the sound of the woman that loves you

As the final notes lingered in the air, the team watched in silence. The performance had laid bare all of her emotions, and Bucky stared at the screen with a mix of pain and recognition. Steve, torn between the desire to comfort his friend and the need to let him process, stood quietly by his side. The applause of the show, the commercials that resumed after she took a bow, all of it sounded muffled to Bucky as he stood frozen in place. 

His eyes remained fixed on the screen for what felt like an eternity. The room held its breath, the team's collective gaze shifting between the screen and Bucky's unreadable expression.

In that charged silence, it became evident that the lyrics had struck him right where she intended. The raw emotion in Gianna's voice had reached somewhere deep within Bucky, stirring something he’d been trying to repress for weeks.

Without uttering a word, Bucky turned abruptly and left the room. His footsteps echoed against the high ceilings as he walked away. The team exchanged uneasy glances, unsure of what to do, or what he’d do, for that matter.

Natasha sighed softly. "Give him some space," she suggested, tugging at the sleeve of Steve’s uniform. Clearly torn between following his friend and taking a much needed shower, he finally nodded.

Bucky, still clad in the dirt-streaked and blood-coated armor, moved with an urgency that mirrored the chaos in his mind. He needed to run, to escape the haunting words of the song, to process the emotions that had been stirred by Gianna's performance. He had to get her voice, her angry eyes out of his head. For weeks, he’d told himself that he did the right thing. He set her free, he wasn’t holding her back anymore. But tonight…seeing her made him question everything. He had something, someone so incredible. After him, she was a shadow. 

Was he really that dangerous, that he could utterly destroy the woman he loved in his attempt to spare her?

Outside, the cool night air hit him as he sprinted through the compound's trails. The sound of his boots on the pavement echoed his racing thoughts. Each step seemed to distance him from the echoes of the past that had resurfaced, and yet, the weight on his chest threatened to crush him.

Gianna

The night air was buzzing with excitement as Gianna stepped into the upscale lounge. The atmosphere was a blend of dimmed lights, smooth jazz, and the muted hum of conversation. She navigated the prestigious crowd, catching glimpses of familiar faces from the entertainment industry. It had been over a year since she’d been at this particular spot, a favorite of celebrities in New York. With her newfound loneliness, ahem, freedom -- she’d been doing her best to get out and socialize. Be seen again. She was never a huge fan of the performative nature of her industry, but she sure knew how to play the game. The more she was spotted out and about, the further away the headlines about her alleged breakup would get.

So here she was, in a meticulously styled outfit, attending an after party for an event she didn’t even remember the name of. Jimmy had invited her after the taping of the show earlier that afternoon. Her options were to say yes or to go back to her empty penthouse, and she was all out of the good gin anyways.

Gianna sidled up to the bar between overstuffed velvet stools and ordered a dirty martini. Another female artist and a friend of Gianna joined her at the bar, greeting her with a hug. They exchanged pleasantries amidst the loud chatter, discussing new albums and sharing touring stories.

Jimmy Fallon appeared, a mischievous glint in his eye.

"Hey, Gianna, got a question for you," Jimmy said, interrupting their conversation as he held out his phone.

Curiosity etched on her face, Gianna glanced at the phone he offered. On the screen was a text conversation where her name jumped out. As she skimmed through the messages, Jimmy leaned in with a conspiratorial smile.

"Sebastian Stan wanted to say hi. Mind if I share your number?"

[fictionadventurer]

@story-courty I can corroborate! Edwin Booth, elder brother of John Wilkes and the man considered possibly the greatest actor of the nineteenth century, saved Robert Todd Lincoln from falling from a train platform in Jersey City, New Jersey. We don't know the exact date of the incident, but it most likely occurred sometime in 1863 or 1864, when Robert was returning to Washington from Harvard, and Booth was going to Richmond with John T. Ford, owner of (believe it or not) Ford's Theater.

The Library of Congress website provides a link to the April 26, 1865 edition of the Cleveland Morning Leader that tells the story like this.

Not a month since, Mr. Edwin Booth was proceeding to Washington. At Trenton, there was a general scramble to reach the cars, which had started, leaving many behind in the refreshment saloon. Mr. Edwin Booth was preceded by a gentleman whose foot slipped as he was stepping upon the platform, and who would have fallen at once beneath the wheels had not Mr. Edwin Booth's arm sustained him. The gentleman remarked that he had had a narrow escape of his life, and was thankful to his preserver. It was Robert Lincoln, the son that that great, good man who now lies dead before our blistered eyes, and whose name we cannot mention without choking. In some way the incident came to the knowledge of Lieutenant General Grant, who at once wrote a civil letter to Mr. Edwin Booth, and said that if he could serve him at any time he would be glad to do so. Mr. Booth replied, playfully, that when he (Grant) was in Richmond, he would like to play for him there.

Robert Lincoln confirmed the story for the Century Magazine in 1909. (Possibly as part of nationwide centennial celebrations of Abraham Lincoln's birth).

The incident occurred while a group of passengers were late at night purchasing their sleeping car places from the conductor who stood on the station platform at the entrance of the car. The platform was about the height of the car floor, and there was of course a narrow space between the platform and the car body. There was some crowding, and I happened to be pressed by it against the car body while waiting my turn. In this situation the train began to move, and by the motion I was twisted off my feet, and had dropped somewhat, with feet downward, into the open space, and was personally helpless, when my coat collar was vigorously seized and I was quickly pulled up and out to a secure footing on the platform. Upon turning to thank my rescuer I saw it was Edwin Booth, whose face was of course well known to me, and I expressed my gratitude to him, and in doing so, called him by name.

Edwin Booth didn't know the name of the man he'd saved until 1865, when Adam Badeau, another officer on Grant's staff who Lincoln had told the story to, wrote him a letter about it. Booth was a staunch Unionist and admirer of Abraham Lincoln, and he'd been feuding with his younger brother for years because of his Confederate sympathies. The news of the assassination devastated him, and he later told a friend that one of the only things that got him through those dark months afterward was the knowledge that he'd saved Robert's life. People initially thought that the Booth name was too blackened for Edwin to continue his career in acting, but he made a triumphant return to the stage in 1866 for a performance of Hamlet that got rave reviews, and eventually opened his own theater and went on a worldwide tour.

I can't fail to mention that this is only one of the coincidences regarding presidential assassinations in Robert Todd Lincoln's life, because he is the only man to have been present at events surrounding three of the four assassinations of American presidents. He was present at his father's deathbed after the assassination (though he wasn't at the theater and always regretted it, because he would have been sitting at the back of the box between Booth and his father). In 1881, he served as Secretary of War under President James Garfield, and was with him at the train station when he was shot by a crazed office-seeker. Robert secured the services of the doctor who had cared for Abraham Lincoln--though, unfortunately, this doctor's overzealous methods, insistence on his own theories, and refusal to follow antiseptic practices caused the infection that actually killed Garfield more than two months later. In 1901, Robert Lincoln was working as president of the Pullman Palace Car Company when President William McKinley invited him to the Pan-American Exposition in Buffalo, New York where McKinley was making an appearance. At the same time Lincoln's train pulled in to the station, McKinley was shot by an assassin who'd joined the receiving line to meet him. Lincoln immediately went to the hospital to visit the injured McKinley, who died six days later.

Robert Lincoln was a major figure in the Republican Party whose name was often mentioned as a presidential candidate, but Robert never pursued the office, for what should be obvious reasons.

This blog from the U.S. National Archives sums up the situation well.

When Theodore Roosevelt assumed the Presidency, Lincoln wrote him. “I do not congratulate you for I have seen too much of the seamy side of the Presidential Robe to think of it as a desirable garment.” Later, he was invited to the White House as a figurehead of the Republican Party. He declined and swore he would never step foot in the White House again. “I am not going and they’d better not invite me,” he said, “because there is a certain fatality about presidential functions when I am present.”

[ausetkmt]

On July 30, 1866, black Republicans attempted to reconvene the Louisiana constitutional convention in an effort to secure voting rights. Held at the Mechanics’ Institute, a large crowd of black spectators was present as well. The gathering was attacked by an angry white mob that included police and firemen. [1] According to the Tribune, “black men were assassinated by scores. They fell inside of the hall, outside of the building, in the neighboring streets, and even in distant parts of the city, where they were tracked like dogs.” [2] Tribune editor Jean-Charles Houzeau witnessed the bloodbath and heard the assassins shout “To the Tribune!” He claimed the newspaper was saved by a detail of black soldiers. [3]

Louisiana was clearly incapable of reconstructing itself. The horror in New Orleans became an enormous national news story, tipping the fall congressional elections heavily in favor of Radical Republicans and significantly damaging President Johnson’s policies of accommodation with ex-Confederates. The new Republican controlled Congress wasted no time in passing four aggressive Reconstruction Acts. Louisiana was to be treated like a conquered enemy, and for the state to be readmitted to the Union, it had to create a new state constitution with strong equal rights provisions.

In late 1867 and early 1868, the constitutional convention in Louisiana drafted and enacted the most sweeping and radical state constitution in the American South. This historic body was composed of an almost equal number of black and white delegates. Many of the Tribune platforms were realized in the new charter, including black men’s right vote. The new state legislature included many black representatives. They would go on to enact the most far reaching and progressive legislation in the American South, including, unique to the entire south, an integrated public school system that was in place in New Orleans from 1872 to 1877. [4]

Harper’s Weekly devoted an entire issue to the massacre, including the grim full page graphic illustration “Timely Warning to Union Men. The New Orleans Convention or Massacre,” which appeared on September 8, 1866.

Official Website

This tour is based on Mark Charles Roudané’s most recent book “The New Orleans Tribune: An Introduction to America’s First Black Daily Newspaper.” To learn more about Roudané’s work, visit his official website and Facebook page.

Cite this Page

Mark Charles Roudané, “Mechanics' Institute Massacre,” New Orleans Historical, accessed July 31, 2024, https://neworleanshistorical.org/items/show/1541.

Related Sources

[1] James G. Hollandsworth Jr. An Absolute Massacre: The New Orleans Race Riot of July 30, 1866. (Baton Rouge: Louisiana State University Press, 2001).

[2] Tribune. July 30, 1867.

[3] Jean-Charles Houzeau. My Passage at the New Orleans Tribune: A Memoir of the Civil War Era, ed. David C. Rankin. Baton Rouge: Louisiana State University Press, 1984), 159.

See also: Mark Charles Roudané, The New Orleans Tribune, an Introduction to America’s First Black Daily Newspaper (Saint Paul: Roudanez History and Legacy, 2018).

[manganiello]

Chris Evans on the Civil War press tour

Chris Evans with his gigantic huge round hard biceps, tight white shirt, beard and cockiness is deeply personal to me yeah

what is the first thing you think when you see my blog on dash?

[ali-annals]

i could be the way forward (i know I'll pay for it) (forever is the sweetest con, pt 2)

Pairing: Jason Todd x Marinette Dupain-Cheng PART ONE Moodboard

Rating: G | Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Ao3 | WC: 1.6k | TW: -

A/N: This is part of a series called The Eras Tour (Jasonette’s Version), a collection of Jasonette-centric fics I wrote for the Maribat discord server Maribat? Get In!’s 2024 Civil War event. Not beta’d.

Years after retiring from Ladybug, Marinette Dupain-Cheng goes by many other names, switching identities as easily as she breathes…until she tries to swindle the wrong guy.

Marinette swirled her olive in the dregs of her martini, forlornly chewing on the other. The chatter of the multitude of people passing through the bar was a welcome background noise for her to tune out as she thought of her ex-partner. 

The news anchor’s voice suddenly cut through her thoughts of dark hair and teal eyes. Had he said-

“Oh, he was the sweetest boy, always so polite,” said a little old lady who had appeared on the stool next to her. She looked harmless, but she wouldn’t have survived this long in a city like Gotham without having something up her sleeve. “We all missed him greatly. He was a ray of sunshine, one that Gotham let through her smog to give us all hope.”

Marinette turned to her. “Would you mind telling me more about him and what’s happening? I’m somewhat new here.”

The party was in full swing by the time her limo pulled up to the event hall. The chauffeur opened the door for her, her date for the night getting out and offering his hand in silent escort.

They entered the hall, fashionably late and thus commanding everyone’s attention without even trying. She knew she looked good, having put her own touch on the off-the-rack dress she’d found in an adorable boutique. 

She took in the crowd as she descended the stairs, using her temporary height to her advantage. So many dark-haired men here, yet the one she wanted to see wasn’t. 

Her date led her to a small group of people by the foot of the stairs, two of which had ‘PRESS’ lanyards over their suit and dress. 

“Clark, Lois, it’s good to see you! How have you been? This is my date, Melody Dupain. Melody, these are my friends, Clark Kent and Lois Lane.”

“Pleasure to meet you,” she nodded. 

“It’s nice to meet you, Melody,” said Lois. “We just talked the other day, nothing’s changed,” she added to her date. 

“Good to hear. Excuse us, the mayor wanted a word.”

Marinette continued on her way, taking the time her date was socializing to scan the room. 

She excused herself from the conversation, heading in the direction of the French doors she’d spotted as she came in.

The cool air was refreshing after the heat of the ballroom and cloying perfumes. She found a quiet spot overlooking the gardens, underneath a garden party tent of some kind. Little drops of rain soon echoed calmingly as they bounced off the canvas top. 

“May I have this dance?”

She startled, the rain having covered anyone’s approaching footsteps.

“Dancing is a dangerous game. Haven’t you read any Jane Austen, where the characters fall in love because they danced?”

She turned, her breath catching. 

He smirked. “Of course I’ve read Jane Austen; I’m not a heathen, what do you take me for?”

“What are you doing here?”

“Watching my ex-swindling-partner attempt to swindle my dad, apparently,” he shrugged. “And just when I thought life was going to be boring again.”

“How…was everything I heard true?”

“Depends on what you heard, but probably. Although the rumours of my death have been greatly exaggerated. I’m fine now.”

“Jay.”

“Look, this isn’t a great place to get into everything. How about we skip the party and go get Batburger?”

She hadn’t even heard the end of his proposition and she grabbed his hand, leading the way out.

“I’ll take you to my favourite gargoyle and we can talk there.”

“Of course you have a favourite gargoyle,” she rolled her eyes at him fondly.

He opened the door to a black Rolls Royce.

She settled in the comfy seat appreciatively, running her hands over the dash. “You finally got your fancy car, huh?”

He chuckled dryly. “Yep. First long con I ever did, and I’m still runnin’ it. Now I’m actually old enough to drive the things.”

“Please just tell me you’re not pretending to be Bruce’s dead son,” she said as they pulled into the Batburger drive through.

“No, I wouldn’t do that…well, maybe. But no, I’m the real dead son. But why are you trying to swindle the guy who has a dead son?”

“Not so dead anymore,” she retorted, waving at him. “Because I had to see if it was really you, homme stupide . I came to Gotham because it’s a wonderful place to hide, and then I found my ex-partner beat me to swindling high society, only it might not be a swindle at all! What did you even need the money for, if your dad is the richest guy in America?!”

He shrugged, paying and collecting their order. “His money ain’t my money. Also, he didn’t know I was alive, and I had some…things to take care of first.”

They climbed up the rusty fire escape to the roof of the building that housed his favourite gargoyle. Jason handed her her burger and fries. 

“Your dress looks really nice, Mar. Did you make it?”

“I restyled it,” she sniffed, biting hungrily into her burger. “Thank you for the compliment.”

“Why are you so mad? I’m not even stopping you conning my dad or giving you away.”

“Because I thought I’d never see you again, and then I did and I wasn’t even prepared for it, and now I’m thrown all off-kilter! And I can’t in good conscience hustle your dad, he’s your dad !”

“I mean, if it helps, I hustle him all the time,” he shrugged, bumping her shoulder with his.

“It really doesn’t…okay, maybe a little bit. But I’m still not stealing from your dad! This was going to be my last con.”

“What? Why?” He looked at her, startled. “Are you in trouble?”

“Not as far as I know,” she bit a fry moodily in half. “I’m tired of it. Constantly looking over my shoulder, switching up my identity, never getting close to anyone. I’ll use what I have to settle down somewhere and set up a sewing shop or something, live a boring life and find a husband and have two-point-five kids…”

“It’ll never work.”

Marinette punched his shoulder for his immediate pessimistic shut-down.

“Ow! I mean, you won’t be happy without the adrenaline rush, the danger. But,” he raised his finger, “I have an idea.”

“Do tell,” she said dryly, used to his ideas.

“Marry me.”

She coughed out the fry she’d been eating. “Excuse me?”

“I’m serious. Marry me. It’ll take care of a lot of problems for us. We can’t legally testify against each other, in case our pasts catch up to us. You’ll be richer than Croesus, you can bug Bruce all the time –and it’ll be great leverage for me: “Bruce, how could you date your future daughter-in-law”--and we can go around long-conning society with a permanent identity and no one to catch us.”

“And just how will we do that?” she asked, getting interested in spite of herself.

“I can only tell you if you agree,” he said mock-solemnly.

She punched his shoulder again.

“Ow! If you’re gonna turn to punching me, maybe I'll take it back!”

“Tell me why we’re long-conning society, Jason,” she threatened.

“Because we’re the Todd-Waynes during the day, but the vigilantes Red Hood and Mrs Red Hood (name subject to change) at night!”

She blinked at him. “That makes so much sense. Wait, why will I be a vigilante?”

He gave her a flat look. “Pixie. You told me you used to be a hero. You need the adrenaline rush, that’s why you’re currently a swindler. You can go back to heroing, get your thrills, and feel good about it while you do it, instead of sullying your conscience by swindling old men grieving the loss of their son-ow!”

“Fine, I’ll do it.”

“Really?”

“Yes. But you have to answer a few questions for me first.”

“Only if you answer three of mine.”

“You’re a horrible negotiator.”

He simply smiled serenely at her. 

She huffed. “Fine, I’ll answer three of your questions, but you have to answer as many as I ask you. You are getting the better part of the deal, may I remind you.”

“Sounds good.”

“Why do you want to marry me?”

“Ooh, loaded question, right off the bat. Well, I like you. I can trust you, we work well together, we know each other well already.”

“Why did you stay so long with me if your dad is a billionaire?”

“To take care of you. Also, it was nice to have someone around who knew me but also didn’t know me, if you know what I mean.”

“Crystal clear,” she deadpanned. “But yes, I think so. You wanted someone to know you without knowing the past you with all the baggage and pre-made judgments. I felt the same way. Why did you want to take care of me?”

“Why not? I like you.”

“Jason! You can’t just say stuff like that!”

“You wanted the truth!”

“Yeah, but I’m gonna fall off this roof in shock!”

“I’ll catch you then. As long as you’re falling for me.”

Marinette sputtered at his blatant flirting. “ You’ll be falling because of me.”

“I already am.”

“Jason Todd!”

The banter and interrogation continued until all the burgers and fries were gone. Jason sighed, leaning back on his elbows, kicking his feet over the side. “There’s something you should probably know before we do anything else.”

She eyed him cautiously. “Okay…”

“I wasn’t planning on partnering with you, but I felt like there was something between us after the first night. We got along so well after that, and it was an easy cover to keep when I had some Hood business to take care of. But we spent more time together, and I started falling for you. It wasn’t the plan, but I couldn’t stop–and I didn’t particularly want to stop, either. I love you, Marinette Dupain-Cheng.”

She bit her lip hard, willing away the tears. “I love you too, Jason Todd-Wayne.”

[skincareroutine]

do u think the world today would be that different if lincoln just went on a press tour and told slaves to just kill their slave masters and they wouldnt face any repercussions legally like would that change the course of the civil war at all