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borhap-au · 4 years ago

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“No one understands”

Part two of Eugene Sledge x Black Reader.

“Courage meant overcoming fear and doing one’s duty in the presence of danger, not being unafraid.” - Eugene Bondurant Sledge

They talked long hours about inequality and the need for change. Neither of them even realized how late it was, until the room was completely empty and Eugene’s friend came to tell them they need to close the coffeehouse. They took their things, thanked the boy and went out of the shop.

“Well, I promised to get you back home safely,” he smiled while Angel shook her head.

“Oh, no. The only person I don’t want to mess with in this world is my dad. And he won’t be happy seeing me with a boy,” she chuckled quietly and he nodded his head.

“I understand,” after he said that, she felt a little bad. The real reason she did not want to let him walk her home, was because she promised her friend she will not be that “stupid.” However, she talked to him for hours and she grew to really like him. She did not want it to be their last meeting.

So she added, “but you know what? I finish my classes at 3 PM tomorrow. How about we meet in the coffeehouse around 3:30? I would like to talk to you some more,” she gave him a warm smile.

“I’d like that. You taught me a lot today. I’d love to find out some more,” he admitted. She fascinated him. Angel gave him a double thumbs up.

“Oh, no worry. I will bring a whole new set of facts and figures tomorrow. I must admit, you were a great student. I’m proud,” she chuckled quietly.

“And you were the best professor I’ve ever had. If only others could talk as interestingly as you do. Learning would be much easier,” he complimented her and she was really happy to receive such a compliment. Some guys complimented on her looks, others liked her personality and sense of humor, but she hardly ever received a compliment about her intelligence, which was the most important thing for her that anyone could point out about her.

“So, do we have an arrangement?” she asked, waiting for his reaction. “Will we see each other tomorrow?”

“Oh, most definitely. I wouldn’t keep a lady waiting,” she smiled in response. They said their goodbyes and each of them went their own way. Eugene turned around a few times to see her again. So did she, right before she turned to a corner she would not see him from, and their eyes met. They both smiled embarrassed. She was the first one to wave at him. He waved back. Then he lost her out of sight.

When he came back home, he kept on thinking about everything she said. Her words resonated in his mind. She was so right, about everything. Before that, he always thought not being a part of a problem was enough. That day he understood how important it was to actually be an active participant in the fight for justice. Fight other than physical, which was the only type they taught him in the military.

The next day he came a little early, as usual. He sat in the same corner and drank his coffee, waiting for her to show up. He really hoped she will not stood him up. He liked her and wanted to get to know her better. Minutes passed by, and she still did not show up in the door of the coffeehouse, despite Eugene observing it closely.

“I’m sorry for being late. They kept me longer in class,” she smiled apologetically, throwing her purse on the chair and sitting next to him.

“Oh, it’s not a problem. I hope you got home safely yesterday,” he started a conversation after the waiter brought her order.

“Yes, I did. It’s pretty close to my neighborhood. We all know each other there, I always feel safe,” she smiled and sipped her coffee.

“The sense of community is always nice,” he said while nodding his head. She wondered whether she should ask that question, but she couldn’t really help herself.

“Just like the army, right?” Angel looked at him biting her lip. She was not the one to be scared of tough conversations. Her topics were usually difficult, since she didn’t like a simple small talk. She wanted her life and her relations to be deeper and more meaningful than just that.

Eugene looked at her surprised, not expecting this kind of question at all. He put his coffee away and took a deep breath.

“You were in the army, weren’t you?” she asked, not wanting to let go that easily. She wanted to get to know him, and his army experience was obviously a huge part of his life.

“Yes, I was. For over three years,” he liked her. He wanted to be honest with her, but it really wasn’t the kind of topic he wanted to explore.

“My friend’s brothers all went to war. Most of them even returned. They enrolled even though their father was doing everything he could to get that idea out of their heads. His own father was born into slavery and he could not understand how could anyone risk their life for a country that enslaved their ancestors, tortured them and raped the women to create more free labor. But they went anyway. You know why?” he shook his head. He had some ideas, but preferred to let her speak. “Because that is their country. It was created on slavery. Slaves made the United States. Not to mention all those asshole who’d say we cannot decide for this country if we didn’t fight for it.”

Eugene nodded his head. He remembered very well all the slurs he heard directed at the Black community. He reacted every time, but unfortunately it rarely changed anything other than the soldiers’ opinion of Sledge.

“Not to mention the Double V. Victory in Europe and victory here. Have you heard about it?” she asked looking at Eugene.

“Yes, actually, I did. I support the cause wholeheartedly. I can’t imagine how it must feel… It’s already hard enough coming home from war, feeling estranged and misplaced. I can’t imagine how it felt for them, coming back to a segregated country that doesn’t even allow you to sit in the front of the bus, even though you risked your life for freedom of that country…” he scoffed and shook his head. “The greatest democracy in the world, fighting with the nationalistic regime of Germany whose segregated country used the US as their role model for that separation.”

She raised her eyebrow and he nodded, confirming what he has just said is true.

“In the 30s, when they were isolating Jews from the rest of the society, they looked at the American model of segregation. I read a report on it. I guess the United States must be really proud to be such a great idol for others,” he said ironically.

“That’s just outrageous…” she sighed and then looked at him. “Can you tell me the stories you have of Black soldiers? I ask this question to anyone I know who went to war.” He hesitated, not being happy about speaking of war, but finally agreed, since he did not have to talk about himself specifically.

“The situation was no better than the one back here. The troops were segregated. At the beginning they didn’t even allow none of the Black men to carry a gun. I guess they were scared of a revolution, or whatever other thing white men thought they obviously deserved for their actions. So the Black men were used for other things. They unpacked the trucks, cooked, drove cars. Only later, when we were short of men, they allowed Black troops to actually fight. A lot of them became great pilots. I really respect their courage, cause after all they fought for a country which doesn’t even treat them like full citizens…”

“’Like actual humans,’ that’s what you wanted to say. You don’t have to be afraid of the truth,” she interrupted him. “It’s because of the Double V. We need justice all over the world, we need to stop racists in America, Europe and everywhere else. We don’t stop here, it’s just a start. We managed to win in Germany, so why not here?” she smiled, and her smile was full of hope that one day things will be better.

“I understand their reasons now. Thank you, it became cleared to me,” Eugene smiled. He already loved listening to her. She spoke with such energy and faith in her cause. “But I have to tell you, their determination was like no other’s. Because I don’t know a single white man who would keep on pushing and trying to get in combat for a country that segregates army’s bathrooms… Hell, they segregated even blood donations! Can you imagine that? As if Black blood was any different from white… I mean, it’s red. It’s blood.” She just shook her head with disapproval and disgust, but she was not surprised at all. What for him was a shocking news, for her was everyday life.

“There’s a great poem, I don’t know if you heard about it. It’s called ‘Beaumont to Detroit’ by Langston Hughes,” she looked at him expecting a reaction, but he just shook his head.

“I’m sorry, I never heard of it,” he admitted, ashamed he was not familiar with it. She took a book out of her bag. It was a notebook with a handwritten title: “Poems of Freedom, Justice and Equality.” She opened it on selected page and began to read the poem to him.

“’…I ask you this question/Cause I want to know/How long I got to fight/BOTH HITLER – AND JIM CROW,’” she finished reading the poem and looked at him for reaction. He did not say anything for a long moment.

“That’s… That’s a really good poem. And it touches all the painful spots. I’m just really sorry, on behalf of all men…”

“No, don’t apologize for them. They wouldn’t apologize. They don’t apologize and they won’t apologize. They don’t feel sorry. You feel sorry, and you have nothing to apologize for. You’re one of the good guys. We don’t judge people because of what they ancestors did to us. We judge people by their current actions. We want to be heard, acknowledged. We understand that living your whole life in a country based on slavery might’ve made you turn a blind eye on some issues. We understand that the systemic racism made you believe in certain things. We really know all of that. But it doesn’t excuse anyone from learning. The problem is very often ignorance. People just assume something is this way because it’s ought to be this way. Or they say something in supposedly good faith, and when we educate them about it being a wrong thing to say, they don’t want to acknowledge their mistake. That I don’t understand and I won’t accept. Everyone makes mistakes. As a white man, you cannot know about all the issues a Black woman faces. But you should be willing to learn about them and fix your mistakes,” Eugene thought to himself that this girl should be a universally known speaker. She spoke with such respect, intelligence and charisma. She knew how to put the issues so that everyone understood her. She could’ve been the next Sojourner Truth if they let her. And it was then when it hit him. Why has he heard of so many Black male orators, but so few women? Was it that the system wanted to silence Black women in particular? Was the problem rooted not only in racism, but also in sexism? Yes, of course it was. Eugene could not believe it took him so long to see how oppressed were the Black women, who had to fought not just with white men, but also with white women, who did not want to acknowledge their femininity, in order to cut them from the feminist movement.

“So teach me. Tell me, please. If you want to. What are the most common mistakes white people make? I’ll try to teach others about them, so we can all know better,” she smiled hearing that. She thoroughly enjoyed having such a clever student.

“First of all, stop with the ‘I don’t see color’ thing. I’m glad you acknowledge that a color of one’s skin shouldn’t be a reason to treat them as a lesser human. I mean, it should be obvious, but unfortunately it isn’t. But it’s not a good thing to say things like that. Because by ‘not seeing color’ you don’t acknowledge the pain and struggle Black people have to endure every single day. Another thing – could the white ladies just stop asking to touch our hair? We’re not their puppies to pet. And don’t assume you understand. Don’t talk about those issues as if they were yours. It’s not just for you specifically, of course, is directed at all white people. I hear all too often them discussing our experience as if they were all-knowing. You have no idea. You have just the point of view of the oppressor, even if you don’t oppress anyone knowingly or purposefully. You didn’t live the struggle, so respect the fact you don’t know how it feels,” he actually took out a notebook and wrote down some of the things she said, as she continued to lecture him. They talked about race and social issues, and then their conversation turned more casual. They talked about books and poetry and exchanged some names they might like to read. Finally, Eugene found the courage to ask the question he thought about for some time.

“Would you like to maybe go out with me? Like… Not for a coffee, for a dinner for example,” he smiled and then looked down, being a little shy. He did not ask a girl out since he was in high school, apart from that one ball after he returned from the war, but neither he nor the girl enjoyed their time there.

Angel smiled slightly, but needed to remind him of something that he did not realize as he usually did not have to live with it. She was not surprised he did not know. Most white people do not think of such things before making plans, because the issue did not involve them.

“If you can find a restaurant that will allow us to sit there, sure,” her smile was a little sad. In Washington maybe it would be easier, but they were still in Alabama. “They usually don’t allow mixed couples in the public eye, you know, not to ruin their reputation. Black people are hardly allowed in any fancy places anyway.”

“So… I invite you to my house. I’ll cook the dinner,” he smiled. Of course, he did not think of the reputation his household will have among his neighbors after that event, but if anyone reminded him of it, he would say he did not care. If they had a problem with that, then it means they were racist, and he did not wish to affiliate himself with such people. “I can pick you up from wherever you want. I assume your father may not appreciate my presence at your house.”

“Oh, no. Just give me the time and address. I will definitely be there and get there on my own. I cannot wait to see what you’ll make for that dinner,” she gave him a big smile. She wrote down the address and they agreed on the time. They were both really happy about the meeting. Neither of them commented on how happy they were, because they did not want to jinx it or appear weird, but they definitely could not wait for the Saturday to come. And it sure looked promising.

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mirkwoodshewolf · 6 years ago

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Marine reunion; Joe Mazzello x Military!reader

*Author’s note*

As a little decompresser before I go to take my second final, I thought everyone who is suffering as I am could do with a little Joey fluff. So I want to wish anyone who is currently doing their finals the best of luck and I hope this distracts you for a brief moment of all the stress that we’re all going through at this very moment.

Sidenote if I get anything wrong in regard to Marine rankings, PLEASE let me know, I want to do justice esp. since my dad was a former Marine himself, so just send me a message or comment below and politely correct me if I’ve missed something. Thank you all and happy reading and good luck on your finals. And may the odds forever be in our favor.

_________________________________________________________

“Hey guys it’s (y/n) (l/n). Or to any of my military pals out there this is Staff Sergeant (l/n) of the United States Marines. I just landed in London and I am about to head over to the Bohemian Rhapsody set. I didn’t want to do this live on my Instagram because I don’t want the surprise to be ruined but I will have it posted on there soon. I’ve got to go get my bag but I’ll check back in later, over and out.”

I went over to the baggage claim and waited for my duffle bag as well as my suitcase to come out. Even as an American once people saw me in my uniform, they saluted me or came up to me and told me that I was doing a good thing serving my country. I graciously thanked them and soon my bags came in. As I walked out with my bags I soon saw a man in a black suit with a sign that read.

S.S (L/n).

I knew right then that this was my ride. I had called my good friend Rami Malek and told him of the special surprise I was hoping to do for my boyfriend Joe Mazzello and Rami had actually arranged a cab to take me straight to the set of Bohemian Rhapsody. I walked up to the man and he said.

“Ms. (l/n)?”

“That is correct sir.”

“Hope you had a safe flight ma’am. I’m Lewis and I will be driving you over to the film set.”

“Thank you so much Lewis.” I thanked him.

“No need, my grandfather fought in the South Pacific.” He said. He took my suitcase leaving me with my duffle and the two of us headed out and got into the car. I took my phone back out and went back to the video setting and said.

“Okay so I am in the car right now, I just got picked up by this lovely gentleman right here, care to say hello Lewis?” I flipped the camera vision around to show Lewis and he turned around and waved before I flipped the screen back to me. “He’s going to be taking me to the set. Hopefully no one’s spilled the beans to Joe, but I think it’s gonna be good. I’ll touch base back once we get to set.”

You see I had known Joe and Rami since forever. In fact I was currently at the same bootcamp that they were training in in order to get into their characters for a little project called ‘The Pacific.’ And Joe was playing a great hero known in the Corp, Corporal Eugene Sledge. I was at bootcamp for about 7 months at the time when I first met them, but we became good friends with each other.

As much as we could, we’d touch base with each other whenever there was a break from their lessons and I had a day of rest for a bit before going back to resume training. I taught them as much as I knew of the Marine’s history and they took each thing I said to heart to help with their roles.

As time passed on, contact with them grew less and less until one day at my 18 month temporary leave from Iraq, I met up with Joe at a club. He was apparently in the middle of developing a project about his brother, John who was a baseball player. Then one thing led to another and soon we began to date.

Of course the distance between not only my leaving for deployment but his acting career was sometimes strained but somehow we still managed to work out. I had been told from him through a phone call once he had gotten the okay to tell people, that he had been casted as Queen’s bass player John Deacon in the new Queen biopic “Bohemian Rhapsody.”

I was so proud of my bae and I was beyond excited because Queen was my all time favorite group growing up. My mom loved their music and even got to watch their Live Aid performance with my dad when he was on deployment in London.

My family’s always been a military family with my dad’s side. My grandfather fought in WW2 in the actual Pacific wars, my father fought in Desert storm and now I have been part of the military fleet of taking down Al-Qaida. In fact I was there and the one to pull the trigger on Osama-Bin Laden himself.

Now I had told Joe that I wasn’t sure whether I would be able to visit the set and watch them film the official Live Aid performance. Poor Joey took it so hard but he understood and didn’t say another word of it.

But what he didn’t know was that I was lying. I had gotten the all clear to go on a 1 year deployment leave and I would be arriving on time just before they would film the most iconic rock concert in history.

After about an hour and a half drive through London and me taking pictures of all the sights since I hadn’t been to London, we finally arrived at the set. I got out of the car and thanked Lewis and he told me it was an honor to drive me, one Military brat to another.

“You must be Joe’s girlfriend.” I turned around to see Graham King the producer of the film.

“Yes. Staff Sargant (Y/n) (l/n), it’s great to finally meet you Mr. King.” We shook hands and he said.

“Please call me Graham. And it’s an honor to have a young Marine like yourself here.”

“Thank you so much for allowing Joe the part, this meant so much to him.”

“Oh believe me he was a blessing in disguise. Practically looks like John Deacon himself.” I laughed softly and agreed with him. “Do you mind if you record the rest of the video for me?”

“Not at all.” I handed him my phone and he took it and he messed around with it and I said.

“You recording?” He held his finger up and then pointed at me telling me that he was now officially recording. “Well here I am at the set of Bohemian Rhapsody. Weather’s been good to me so far, uhh I’ve got the producer Graham King recording and being my camera man for a bit. And now I’m about to go see Joey.”

“But we gotta make sure we’re quiet because last I was there; they were about to start filming.”

“Okay so let’s hurry and get over to the main stage and see how they all do.” We then walked across the set. Graham would put the phone down so as to not spoil any secrets until finally we came around the bottom of the tall Wembley stage.

Oh my god, it was just like looking at the actual thing. And I could see the guys all up on stage in full costume and god did Joey really look like John with that fluffy wig on. After not seeing him for over a year this was unbelievable, my heart was racing and I almost screamed out to him but I didn’t want to give the surprise away too early, plus I didn’t want the director mad at me for ruining a take.

Graham handed me my phone back and I asked if I was at least allowed to take pics of the boys and he granted me access so long as I didn’t post them on any social media yet. So I shut off the recording and began to take some pics as the boys began to recreate the full Live Aid concert.

And it was absolutely amazing. The costumes, the lights, the live playing of their instruments, everything was beautiful. Seeing my good friend Rami embody Freddie on stage was like actually seeing Freddie live and in person, now I know how my mom felt when she was at the real Wembley stadium at the actual performance.

And Joe—oh my Joey. Playing the bass and doing the famed Disco Deacy moves when need be. As ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’ ended and Radio Gaga came on now, I couldn’t help but sing along and when the double clap came up, I joined in smiling widely as tears formed in my eyes.

Song after song played and I would softly sing along, danced a bit (Crazy little thing called love) and do the stomp-stomp-clap (We will rock you) as well as taking pictures as well as short snippet videos. Finally the last song ‘We are the Champions’ came on and I swayed softly singing along and watching the boys bring it all the way home.

Just like the real Live Aid performance, these four boys were truly bringing a show and punching a hole in the sky. By the end of it all, I along with the crowd of over 200 extras were applauding. Even the crew members were applauding as the four boys stood front and center on stage and Rami did the famed goodbye Freddie did at the real Live Aid.

After calling cut and seeing that the first run through was a huge success and no need to do it again, Graham then took one of the mics and said.

“Alright everyone that’s a wrap on the Live Aid set!” Everyone clapped along with Rami, Gwilym, Ben and Joe. “And I know it was probably special to one of our actors, Joe will you please stay forward?” Joe got that confused look on his face as Rami pulled the two other boys back and one of the crew members came over to me and led me up towards the back of the stage.

As I raced up the stage and was guided behind the flaps where the boys had come out of before filming started, I felt my adrenaline pumping up as Graham’s voice continued to speak.

“Joe Mazzello playing our bass player John Deacon, we’d like to acknowledge your girlfriend Staff Sergeant (Y/n) (L/n) of the US Marines.” And once again even though as an American officer of the military, Armed forces is Armed forces, so all the British extras and crew members cheered and applauded as Graham continued, “Staff Sergeant (l/n) has been serving in the military for over 10 years, you both met during the set of filming ‘The Pacific’ and we tip our hats to your girlfriend for being part of missions like the fall of Al-Qaida. And the search for Bin-Laden.” The crowd kept cheering and I knew Joe had to be a blushing mess right about now. “So everyone please give it up for Staff Sergeant (l/n)!” two of the cast members playing the volunteers pulled back the flaps and I walked on stage and the crowd roared with applause. Joe turned around and bless his little heart he fell to the crowd crying.

I walked closer to him until he suddenly shot up like a bullet, sprinted like a freakin cheetah and tackled me in a hug. Picking me up and spinning me around. I sobbed into his shirt as I held him as tightly as he was holding me.

I could hear the crowd whistling and cheering, and through my own teary eyes I saw Rami and the two other boys clap and wipe away their tears, I could also see Rami with his phone out probably recording a video of this.

Joe then began kissing all over my face frantically before capturing my lips and not letting up.

“I don’t—I can’t……how did…..oh who the fuck cares you’re here! And you’re back! You’re really here!” he said between hard and deep kisses.

“Ladies and gentlemen please give it up one more time for Staff Sergeant (Y/n) (L/n)!” The crowd cheered one last time as Joe pulled me in for one last kiss, but this time he dipped me backwards in that famed ‘dip kiss’ pose.

After things finally calmed down, Joe and I were walking through the backstage of the Wembley stage and he said.

“I still can’t believe you came. Did you see the whole performance?”

“Yeah I did. Saw it from start to finish. I was watching you the whole time.”

“But how?”

“You can thank the set approval visit from Rami. Also I got approved for a 1 year leave. I can stay here with you and see you film the movie, maybe even go to the premiere. If you’ll have me that is.”

“Oh doll of course I want you there with me. God I just can’t believe you’re here.” He hugged me tight and I buried my face into his neck, playing around with his floofy wig. It was then I was shocked to see just who a few feet were away from me were.

Going around the set talking with Graham was the real life Brian May and Roger Taylor.

“Oh….my god.” I said star-struck. Joe turned around and he said,

“You wanna meet them?”

“I—I’ll make a fool of myself I just know it.” I said sheepishly.

“Hey, I was petrified to meet them too but they’re really awesome guys.” I looked up into my boyfriend’s brown eyes and said.

“I swear if you embarrass me we’re finished.” He laughed softly and pecked my cheek before taking my hand and leading me towards the two rock Gods.

“Brian, Roger.” The two rock legends looked up and Brian said.

“Ah Joe, amazing job out there. You all were fantastic; it was like being back at Live Aid.” Brian said.

“Thanks Brian.” Joe thanked them.

“So this is the girl you wouldn’t stop talking about.” Roger said as he turned to look at me.

“Yes, I told you I wasn’t making her up.” Joe teased. He wrapped his arm around me and said, “Gentlemen, this is the love of my life (Y/n) (l/n). (Y/n) you obviously know Brian and Roger.” I nervously waved and smiled sheepishly.

“I really hope he didn’t overdo it on talking about me.”

“Nonsense, we’ve done the same thing with our wives. It’s great to finally meet you dear.” Brian said with a soft smile and extended his hand out to me. I shook it and blushed at the fact that Brian May just called me dear.

“Can I just say that it’s just an honor to even be in her royal majesties presence? My mom actually got to see you guys perform in the real Live Aid concert while my dad was deployed here in London back in the mid 80’s.”

“Believe us love, if anyone’s honored to be in someone’s presence it’s us that are honored to meet you. You’re doing your country proud for all the work you’ve done.” Roger said and soon the two members of the greatest rock and roll band actually saluted me. And I did the best thing I knew.

I saluted her majesties back.

Later that day as the day went on and I got to know Ben and Gwilym more by going out to the pub once filming was over. I noticed that Joe refused to take off his Yankees hat. In fact he made sure that no one was going to take it off.

“Joey please take the hat off, there’s no need for it.” I said.

“I don’t think I should.”

“Oh come on, it’s not like you can get wig-hair. Now take it off before you get severe case of hat-hair.”

“(Y/n) it’s for the best that I—” suddenly Gwilym flopped the hat off and gestured,

“This is why he won’t take it off (y/n). He’s got a perm!” The boys then all began to hoot and holler as Joe embarrassingly grabbed his hat and put it back on. However I stopped him and removed the hat to see his full on curly perm. He refused to look at me as he muttered.

“I didn’t know perm stood for permanent.” I smiled at my loveable dork and kissed his cheek and said.

“It looks cute on you.”

“Yeah right.”

“I’m serious. It’s not that bad. When I first enrolled at bootcamp my hairdresser actually screwed up and cut my hair into the Captain Marvel mohawk style. And all I wanted was just a pixie cut.”

“You mean the female captain Marvel style right?”

“Yes.” He looked at me almost imagining it and he said.

“I think you’d look cute with it, hell badass even. I mean when I met you your hair was already midway to your neck.”

“Yeah but never again will I get a mohawk.”

“Oh c’mon babe. If I have to get a perm, then you have to get a mohawk.”

“Absolutely out of the question Mazzello. Now not another word of it or I’ll have you detained for insubordination.”

“Ohh gonna get all naught with me Staff Sergeant?” he mocked as his forehead touched mine.

“We’re still here you know.” Rami’s voice piped in. Joe and I chuckled nervously and we pecked each other’s lips before I apologized to the guys and we continued our round of drinks.

As the weeks followed and more scenes were being filmed, Joe was currently being fitted into some of the concert footages they were going use as Queen got more publicity. He now had the long haired wig, wore the black pants, high-heeled boots and the black overcoat with buttoned down white shirt that revealed his chest, you know the Live at the Rainbow Nov. 1974 look.

“Well how do I look?” he asked.

“I swear Joey if I didn’t know any better I’d say you were trying to seduce me with that outfit.” I said as I had been fitted to be one of the extras in the crowd.

I wore a beautiful black floral chiffon cape dress that went down pass my knees. I was fitted with a (h/c) wavy haired wig as well as some black heels and a couple of necklaces and bracelets.

“Oh really?” Oh god he was now slipping into Deacon’s accent. He slowly walked over toward me and cupped my chin and said still using the accent, “Am I seducing you now love?”

“Possibly.” He smirked at me before lightly kissing me before trailing along my jaw line, up my cheek and towards my ear.

“My beautiful darling, you have no idea how beautiful you are, do you?” He nipped and kissed around my ear, whispering to me in that accent of his words of love and lustful desires. I gripped onto his shoulders as I softly moaned, I felt myself get lost in the pleasure of feeling his strong arms around me and his dirty whispers in my ear that I almost didn’t even register the director calling everyone into place. “Care to stay after the show love?” he spoke.

“John Deacon I swear you better take me home after this concert.”

“I will love, that’s a promise.” Joe grinned and kissed me before taking me hand and leading me toward the set.

In the months to come, I was there for Joe each scene that was filmed. Being an extra in the crowd and when it came time for the premiere, I was right there center stage right by Joe’s side the entire time. I was so proud and happy for all that’s he’s accomplished and I was so happy that I was allowed to be a part of this massive success.

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borhap-au · 5 years ago

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Joe Mazzello: the fluffy chronicles.

Joe + black!gf. New hairstyle.

Joey was incredibly proud of the fact you were his woman since the day you got together. He never cared about people comments or glances, because he knew you were an amazing person and he loved you very much. He loved everything about you – from your sense of humor, through your skin tone, to your hair. You had a big afro that suited you really well and Joe loved to get his fingers in your hair, play with it, he loved the smell of your shampoo. So when one time you told him you’re going to get your hair braided down, he was pretty skeptical about it.

“Do you have to do it? You look beautiful the way you are, why change anything?” but you had your plan and you decided to stick with it. You were going on an important party and you wanted to do something else with yourself, something new, to surprise and amaze your friends. You had the most beautiful pink dress chosen, you had new jewelry that you got from Joe for your anniversary, and you wanted a hairstyle that would make everyone go “wow, she’s so beautiful!”

At first Joe didn’t want to go with you to the hairdresser, but finally he broke. You were strolling down the street, him holding your hand, petting it with his thumb, occasionally kissing your cheek. You both were smiling, laughing, telling each other stories. You were that goal couple you always wished to be while you looked at others on the street. That undisturbed happiness, looking each other in the eyes constantly, you were both glowing from the love aura around you.

You were so into Joe, you didn’t see the looks of people on the street when they saw you two together, and for the better. You didn’t want anything to disturb your happiness. Especially that day.

So he opened the door for you and you walked into the hair salon. He took your coat and you sat in one of the chairs. The girls immediately began to take care of your hair.

It was a big afro, one that you were very proud of. You had really nice hair, your locks were beautiful and healthy. The hairdressers all were praising your hair while they got to work and combed your hair. You sat comfortable in the chair and from time to time looked in the mirror at your boyfriend sitting on a couch across the room. He looked somehow nervous. You tried not to chuckle seeing that. He acted as if you wanted to cut your hair and it was supposed to never grow back. You just wanted to go to him and tell him it’s not permanent (maybe Joe had some trauma with perms), as if he didn’t understand that. It was not such a big deal.

There were pretty much three girls working on your hair at all times, so Joe didn’t see too much of what was going on, because they were all around you. What you wanted the girls to do, was for your afro to be braided down in box braids. With the amount and length of hair you had, the endings of the braids touched your waist. Finally, when about half of it was done, you told Joe to come see what the result was so far. He left the magazine he was reading and came closer, a bit scared. Then he opened his mouth and didn’t say anything for good half of a minute. You got a bit scared at his reaction.

“Is it that bad…?” you asked unsure. He woke up from the trance.

“How are you the same person? You look so different!” he said amazed.

“By different you mean worse…?” the girls were still working on your hair, but you thought about telling them to stop.

“No! No. You look… Perfect, my dear. And you always look perfect, but today… It’s extraordinary” he said and smiled looking at you, and you smiled back. He stayed there, resting his back on the wall, looking at you, for the rest of the time. He smiled under his breath, admiring the view. When you were done, he told you to turn around, so he could see from every angle. After that he hugged you and whispered into your ear: “Girl, you’re so stunning, I can’t get my eyes off you.”

He paid for it. Also, he asked you to keep it a bit longer than you thought you will.

“And who would think you didn’t want to come here with me today” you made fun of him, laughing. But in truth you were incredibly happy he liked it. His opinion was the one you cared for the most.

“I just didn’t expect you would look so stunning. But I should’ve. It’s just that I’m so in love with the afro, you know me. But you’re so pretty like that too. Girl, is there anything you can’t pull off?” he was praising you while you were coming back to his apartment.

“You just want to get laid, is that why you’re doing it, isn’t it?” you joked and chuckled.

“I’m sorry if you’re not used to me paying you compliments. I should and I will change that. Because whenever I look at you, I’m just happy. I adore you. And I want you to always feel that I do.” He smiled at you and you smiled at him, truly happy. When you came back home, he helped you get ready, not sparing you any kisses and his hugs. He especially used the occasion when you didn’t have any make up on, to kiss all over your face. You loved how affectionate he got with you. When you were all alone, he was a different person that when he was in public. He was so much softer for you.

When you got to the party, all eyes were on you. You never heard so many compliments in such a short amount of time. Joey held your hand all the time, smiling, being truly proud of his girl. He barely let anyone else dance with you. You looked so beautiful, all the guys smiled when you walked past them, and yet he was the one who got to take you home with him. But you were happy too. He looked so nice in his clothes that you obviously picked for him. And happiness looked good on him. Just the fact that you were the reason for it made you feel so special. And you didn’t care for anyone’s opinion about your interracial relationship. You felt lucky to have him, he felt the same about you. There was nothing more important than this.

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borhap-au · 5 years ago

Text

“No one understands”

Part one of Eugene Sledge x Black Reader.

“As I strolled the streets of Mobile, civilian life seemed so strange. People rushed around in a hurry about seemingly insignificant things. Few seemed to realize how blessed they were to be free and untouched by the horrors of war. To them, a veteran was a veteran - all were the same, whether one man had survived the deadliest combat or another had pounded a typewriter while in uniform.” - Eugene Bondurant Sledge

The war was over. The war was finally over. After those few long years, the boys could come home. Yet in truth, not many of them actually came back. Sure, some of them survived, and even did so in one piece, without any visible wounds. However, very few - if any - came back as the same men they were before.

There were no boys anymore; but not in the sweet sense that mothers use, when they see their sons grow up, move out, find themselves wives. No, there was no sweet fairy-tale of another generation becoming the new core of the family, hopefully giving birth to sons and daughters that will keep the family name. Oh, no. Nothing of that sort.

All the boys that went to war, died. Either physically, or mentally. Eugene was part of the second group; and he did not think of himself as lucky.

Admittedly, he did not go crazy, like some of his friends. His mind was sane to the point he even could attend the Alabama Polytechnic Institute, studying business administration. Yet he did not feel like a survivor at all. He was far from the sensitive, young boy he used to be when he enrolled to the army. He saw and did things he should have never seen, and should have never done. Even though he came back to Alabama, he felt like his soul was shot dead on the battlefield, and there was no hope of resurrection.

The fact that he could not find anything that was meaningful enough for him did not help. He desperately searched for something that would help him get out of bed in the morning, but he was far from finding it. There was no purpose, no will to live. He sometimes had a feeling all he did was for his parents, so at least they could say they are proud of him. He for sure was not proud. Nor happy.

He lost his joy somewhere on the Pacific islands, and no matter how hard he searched for it, there was no way to find it anywhere around him. Nevertheless, he kept on searching, hoping that one day things will change.

He did not mind girls thinking enrolling to an army was an act of heroism, but he flinched anytime someone called him a hero. He knew what he did and because of that, he did not allow people to think of him as anyone else than a forced assassin. If anyone dared to ask him what his war experience was like, he always answered straight to the point. He did not spare any details about brains and guts flying around, his enemies bleeding out to death, and him shooting people before they shot at him. He was done with people thinking he did a good thing. He despised himself after everything that happened on the Pacific. Yet he could not explain to anyone how that actually felt. The guilt, the reoccurring nightmares, it was a lot for one man to handle. There were no words in any human language that were appropriate enough to explain what that experience was like. Even when he was talking to some of his fellow veterans, they could not find words. They desperately needed to change the subject, to get their minds away from it. Unfortunately, they never could.

This is exactly why meeting girls was not easy in his case. He was in his mid-twenties, he was young, handsome, intelligent, and if it was not for the war, perhaps he would be married already. But the war did happen, no one could deny that. And it left a wound in the mind of the young man, too infectious for him to just pick any girl and be happy with her. There were not many women in this world that could bring him piece of mind, or joy of any kind. He was actually scared to search for those kind of women, because if he picked the wrong one, he could change her life forever, and not in a good sense. Therefore, he usually spent his evenings alone, trying not to think about his friends, who never saw the horrors of war, getting engaged, married, becoming fathers. He smiled at people inviting him to events and kindly denied. Very few of his friends took the courage to drag him out of the house to socialize. They knew that staying all alone would do no good to Sledge, especially if he was left with nothing but his thoughts.

The only place he attended regularly, where he was able to meet new people, was library. He read a lot, because science took his mind away from war, at least temporarily. He sat at one of those big tables in the back of the room with his book, and proceeded reading.

“No, you don’t understand me. You speak like them! It’s not how it’s supposed to be, it’s not how it has to be, and it’s definitely not how it’s going to be in the future!” a girl whisper-shouted at her friend sitting next to her. They were behind Eugene’s back and he decided not to turn around for now. He continued reading.

“If everyone were saying what you’re saying right now,” the young woman continued, “if everyone had that attitude, you’d be picking cotton on some white man’s plantation right now.” That comment made Eugene want to turn his head to look at the girl. He was as far away from being racist as one can be. He had a lot of admiration for Afro-American soldiers, both men and women, who fought for a country built on slavery. As a resident of one of the southern states, he knew more people who hated Booker T. Washington than those who hated Russia, and let’s remember that the United States has just entered the age of the Cold War. Eugene admired the girl’s courage to speak about such matters in a public place. To show his respect, as the only person in the room, he did not turn his head. Even though it was fairly hard not to hear what she was saying in a place as quiet as the reading room in a library.

“So what are you suggesting?” the other girl asked. Her voice was higher than her friend’s and she definitely did not show as many emotions and excitement. “A revolution?”

“Yes,” the other girl scoffed after hearing that. “But not a bloody one. We, as civilization, we finally have to enter… social evolution. White people need to understand we are equal to them. And white men should understand all women are equal to them.”

“One thing at a time.”

“Why? And who decides who gets to go first? Not to mention that there are no ‘women rights’ if there are no ‘black women rights’. We’re all in this together!”

“Tell that to white women.”

“And I will. I will. And I’d like you to be there with me, to spread the word,” she smiled widely, but Eugene did not see that. He still tried to focus on his book.

“No mass meetings. They would throw us to jail anytime. You know that my mom would kill me.”

“I like that you immediately thought about doing it big. But you’re right, not yet. There’s no point in going to jail on a first day and spending the rest of the social evolution there. Let’s work locally. Let’s talk with people we know. Let’s spread the word.”

“I think you made it fairly clear to all the people you know where you stand with your political views,” truth be told, the girl’s friend believed with her entire heart in the matter. She was just too scared to do anything. She heard many stories about her ancestors, cousins, friends being beaten, tortured, raped and killed as soon as they spoke a word about the problem of racism. She wanted to do something, but she was afraid that the Black Community was not strong enough yet, not united enough.

“Then let’s talk to someone else. Let’s talk to students. They’re educated, they should be fairly smart. Smart enough to persuade them, at least,” she smiled and looked around. Before her friend could stop her, she stood up and sat next to Eugene.

“Hello,” she smiled to him and he smiled back, putting the book away. Only now was he able to look at her properly. Her eyes were brown and they draw the most attention. The girl’s intelligence was centred in those eyes. One look at her and he already knew he was talking to someone ambitious and determined, someone, who will not give up easily, but also someone, who was on the side of the angels. She fought for the right cause, and despite the fact Eugene did not know her, he cheered for her and hoped she will succeed.

“Hi,” he slapped himself mentally for looking too long at the girl’s beautiful smile. She was the definition of timeless beauty. He could not take his eyes off her. And to be fair, he did not want to.

“My name is Angel,” and she definitely was one. He could not hid a smile when he heard that. What an appropriate name for that girl.

“Eugene,” he said smiling, and her smile got wider too. She was used to those frat boys not answering her just because she was not white.

“Nice to meet you. You know, Eugene, I have something I’d like to talk to you about. Namely, human rights. Women rights. Black people’s rights…” Angel’s friend hold her breath not even wanting to hear what happens next.

“Then you definitely picked the wrong person,” Eugene answered, smiling apologetically.

“Listen-“ she started, not letting this to be a lost cause.

“I’m already on your side.”

She looked at him with a little bit of disbelief. Was he making fun of her? Never in her lifetime had she met a man who would openly support human rights. Not Afro-American rights. Not in Alabama.

“Honestly, I think what you were saying before �� pardon, I just overheard, I was not listening on purpose – it was very brave. And I support you. I did not hear somebody talking with such courage about the need of the race equality since I came back from Japan.” He did not want to say he was a soldier and she felt that in his voice. So she did not ask.

“So there were more people like me?”

��Oh, and not only black! We were all in for the cause. Alright, maybe not all… But me and all of my friends. Come on, it’s already a high fucking time- Oh, please forgive me. I definitely shouldn’t be using such language around a lady. Old habits.”

“It’s alright. So it’s a high fucking time for what?” she smiled under her breath and he chuckled quietly.

“For white men to stick their heads out of their asses and understand that the world does not revolve around them. It never did,” if attractiveness was measured in intelligence, there was not a single more attractive white male in the entire States. She smiled looking at him, and she was truly happy that she has approached him. Not very often you meet someone who has the same views as you do. Especially not if it is not their fight. Especially not if you are black and they are not. Especially not in ‘Bama.

“I couldn’t agree more.”

They caught people’s attention. A few older white ladies shook their heads hearing them. Angel’s friend was getting more and more anxious.

“Ang, we should go,” she said quietly to her friend. Angel turned to her and smiled.

“Eugene, this is my friend, Araminta. She was actually named after Harriet Tubman, because Harriet’s-“

“…birth name was Araminta Ross. I know,” they both looked at him shocked. Who this man even was?

“Angel, really, we need to go,” she pulled her friend’s sleeve. She turned to her.

“Wasn’t Jeremiah supposed to pick you up?” her friend nodded. “Then go where you two are supposed to meet. I’ll be fine,” but Araminta did not believe her.

“Angel, let’s go.”

“If you’re worried about your friend’s safety, I’ll be more than happy to walk her home. If she allows me, of course,” he smiled slightly and Angel pointed at him.

“See? I’ll be fine. Plus we didn’t finish our conversation yet. You go, we’ll talk tomorrow.” Araminta did not know what she was supposed to do. She looked at the clock. Jeremiah should be at the agreed place soon. She took her friend aside.

“Why do you trust him?”

“I don’t necessarily trust him. I just think he’s intriguing. Don’t worry, I won’t let him walk me home, and I’ll come back before it gets dark. He just doesn’t seem like the violent type.”

“You can never know with an ex-soldier.”

“You should know better than anyone that stereotypes are harmful. And you should really go, I don’t want Jeremiah to be mad at you because of me.”

“Let me know as soon as you’re home.”

“I will.”

They hugged and said goodbye. Araminta was not at all sure about Angel’s plan, but she knew her friend was too stubborn and too brave to say no to such occasion.

“You know, I was thinking,” he stood up, taking his coat. “That perhaps it would be better if we went to the coffeehouse that is nearby. Talking is not really welcome in reading rooms, and I don’t wish to be banished from here,” he smiled apologetically.

“Oh, that’s not a problem. We can go,” she smiled and put her book in her bag. The coffeehouse was literally three doors away. They sat by a table in a corner of the room. The place was quite crowded, but the people were chatting and they were slightly away from the rest, so there was not a threat of people eavesdropping now. It did not stop people from turning their heads when they walked by. A white man and a black girl. Eugene knew that his parents will hear about this before he comes back home.

“So, tell me something about yourself. Please,” he smiled taking one of the coffees his friend has brought them. Eugene always came to the same place for coffee, because one of his buddies was a waiter here. They sometimes had time for a little chat during his break.

“Well, my greatest idols, as you may suspect, are Frederick Douglass and Ida B. Wells. I have probably read every book on the problem of racism that was ever written. I also adore suffragists. I think white women and black people should unite to fight for their rights.”

“I agree. And all those with any knowledge about the world should stand on their side.”

“Oh, yes, I’m sorry. I’m so used to talking to my black friends, I tend to demonize that stereotypical white male..”

“Oh, but that man is guilty. I can tell you that for sure. I saw what a white man is capable of. Don’t be sorry, we both know who invented slavery.”

“You’re right, but… I don’t want you to feel attacked.”

“I don’t think any innocent man will feel attacked by what you’re saying. Well, not guilty of racism or sexism at least.”

“So, um… Who is your idol?”

“I don’t think I have idols. Not anymore. But I like what you’re saying, I like your approach. You can be my idol,” she hid her face in her hands, because she was embarrassed, but also because she was smiling a bit too widely after hearing that.

“I meant real idols… Like people who actually did something.”

“You did something, you changed my point of view. But alright, I’ll wait those five years, then I’ll call you my idol, so I can enlist the things you have done by then.”

“You are impossible!” she chuckled shaking her head.

“I’m sorry…”

“No. It was a compliment.” She smiled slightly and took a few sips of her coffee.

To be continued…

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