that first anon again: oh my god losing my religion by r.e.m. for boothill. this man is SO full of teenage angst, sitting in the corner of one of those old timey country bars all veiled in shadow looking at the person he has feelings for laughing and dancing in the crowd, completely mesmerised as he rests his chin on a hand with a focused expression, mouth slightly open, and absent-mindedly traces the rim of his glass with a finger from the other, almost without realising. You ain't slick, dude. Go talk to them.
God, I am so fucking normal about him.
OH YA i forgot to reply to a question from ur prev ask, sure! u can give me indie songs as well heheeee, and ngl i wasnt expecting this song but its one of my fav songs to vibe to!!!!
OKOK I GOT THE IDEA AND I FIND IT CUTE buttt i kinda put a twist to it if thats okay!
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so lets say you're a regular at this diner in town, you had your fair amount of visits here with your friends, your family, even alone. boothill has seen it all, but god at each time he tries to strike up a conversation with you, it either comes off awkward or him just flying off his seat from trying to 'smoothly' whoosh onto the stool.
he doesn't know what made him this... intrigued by your presence, why is it that everytime the door bell chimes, he glances by the door to see if it was you, the way your voice echo in the quiet diner, the way you spun around after you got your order and straight out the door you walked. he wants to know why and how has he suddenly had the balls to walk up to you, and just start some small talk.
unfortunately on his side, it got to the point where it only ends in 'hi's or 'i see's. he thought he could do it, he thought he could whoosh his way in n perhaps whoosh his way out out this diner with u tagging along. but look at where he is now, it's not that you don't get along, but with the way he looks into your eyes and stutter whatever he wants to say, fumbling over words and fall into silence while you wait, while you search his eyes, his body languages. Waiting for something more, as the man himself got you to become a nervous mess too.
but overtime, he gradually became standoffish, he no longer sits beside you at most of your visits, he doesn't look high up above the diner booth to check if its you (he observes from the window instead 🙄), he just waves, he just stands up to go at your presence, he just-
he no longer visits the diner.
in fear and perhaps shame, he and his cyborg body, you would prefer someone much more... human, right? what does it take for a cyborg like him to woo someone he fancies?
it's impossible, he thought. at this point, he'll just give up and not think about the thing people call, the thing he once dreamt of having, love. he'll just give up the act and focus on some... commission he has or whatever...
but does he really though?
"dude, since day 1, are you still gonna mess this right up?"
the voice behind him pulls him out of his trance, the spunk haired man stays put in his seat, the fold of his index rubbing his bottom lips while a thumb rests on his his sharp jawline. choosing to ignore the blond waiter by his side. the waiter throws his tablecloth aside.
"hello?" he snaps his fingers at him, earning a 'tsk' from the man.
"whaddaya want? can't ya see i'm busy?"
"busy doing what? staring at them from this corner of the bar? i know that look of yours, i saw what happened last time-"
"and what? what makes you think i stand a chance with them, best believe 'm gonna look after them from far away. they don't needa see me here, they don't gotta see me at all."
the waiter groans, as if the man in front of him is being blind or feigning ignorance to escape falling in love, to just... dwell in his insecurities. "bro, look at the way they look at you!"
boothill stays put, eyes blinking at your swaying form, your head shaking side to side at the music. the way you jump, throw your hands up, his mouth falls slightly ajar at the way you move. his throat runs a little dry at the way beauty could exist in many forms and at anytime, and this was one of the many times he had found beauty in you. he had found himself longing for you.
it's agonizing honestly.
both on your end and on his.
you're here swaying to the music from the speakers, mingling with other youngsters in your town, hoping that when you turn around to start talking, it'd be the one you've been looking for this whole time, the one whose clumsy way of flirting leaves you wanting more and more. the night was young and there's ample time for him to visit the diner, but... would he?
for him, he wishes he was the only one under your spotlight, the one making you laugh, oh how he loves the way your lips curl into a smile, the way your eyes twinkle.
if he was out there in the crowd with you, best believe he'll twirl and dip you down on the dancefloor and make you have the best night and dance of your whole life.
he turns his head sideways, looking at the blond. "what's with the way they look at me?"
then he turns back to observe you. maybe, just maybe, you would turn around at a certain degree and meet his yearning gaze. wondering if he can make you feel his presences by drilling holes into your skull.
"..." at this point he's defeated, he can't be bothered to explain all these lovey-dovey pre-dating crush nonsense to this sulking cowboy.
"y'kno mister, they've been looking for you every time when you're not around the diner. do i gotta explain more? do i gotta explain the 'where's boothill? have you seen him? has he visited today?'" he mocks, "ya wanna know what happened when i told them no every single time? they just left the diner- not ordering anything!"
the spunk haired man hums, now no longer focused on you, but instead, his back facing faced to the crowd as he stares into the prepared drink before him, finger circling the rim of the glass as the complaints of the waiter goes unheard.
if what the man was saying is true, then... but... why? what made him special enough for your to promptly ask for him at every visit. and he bet it was every visit, since he's not even in the diner every day for months. so, why did he have to leave?
was it the fear of judgement?
was it fear of rejection?
or fear of losing you?
so-
"so?" the waiter quirks an eyebrow, "what do you plan to do with that information-"
he can't back down now, the aftertaste of soulglad lingers the back of his mouth, he's walking, walking towards the crowd, thank god your back was facing him... otherwise he wouldn't be doing what he was doing now, otherwise he'd instantly run away again. and he does not plan to let you search for him again.
"hey." he whispers, smiling gently at the way you suck in your breath at the sight of him.
he never thought he'd feel his heart melt much more than before the moment your soft lips mellow into a smile, the twinkle of your eyes refreshing his past, yet brief memories with you.
"hi."
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© 2024 rindough, do not repost or plagiarize.
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I. Hurt.
And I was hurting anyway, I'm pretty down this morning, but this hurt came from an outside source, and affected me in a way I'd honestly not have expected.
See, we bought Nimona last week. After seeing the movie, my kids wanted to read it. And I ended up reading ahead, and I just finished it.
Bonus content at the end, it said, and I was like, oh, an epilogue to the epilogue maybe? That'd be nice. I don't love bittersweet endings, I'd rather...
...no, it's not the conclusion.
It's CHRISTMAS.
In a book that'd had no religion that I noticed up to that point, BOTH bonus extras...were Christmas.
Ya know, usually it doesn't bother me. Usually I just suck it up. I think it helps that I was raised around mostly Jews and people who, if Christian, it didn't matter much to them. I'm from the Upper West Side of Manhattan, the descendent of Lower East Side immigrants, and while the world outside was brutal - my grandfather was a World War 2 veteran and among the soldiers who liberated Dachau, I can't remember a time when I didn't know that most people would look the other way if people like me were slaughtered wholesale - my bubble was safe, we were accepted, we were insiders.
I honestly can't think of another time I've interacted with a piece of media and felt so immediately, instantly knocked across the face by OUTSIDER as I just did when I excitedly turned the page to see what these fun extra bonuses were...and it was fucking Christmas.
I didn't even read them.
I'm honestly. So disappointed.
I don't have a thick armor for this kind of hurt. I'm Jewish, and as an adult living outside my old UWS bubble, that's often meant I've felt like an outlier, but I've hardly ever had this feeling where I was welcome to something only to be suddenly, violently shoved out the door.
And I've heard nothing, n.o.t.h.i.n.g. but praise for this book. And on another day, it might not have bothered me. I've never really felt like I had to fight to be seen, especially since I'm tremendously secular. I mean, I've celebrated Christmas my entire life, for starters.
But why. Why was this fantasy setting suddenly Christian? Why was this the touted extra content? Why is THIS special, when the areligious world established to that point was apparently not special enough?
I can't say yet if this ruined the story for me. It's far too soon. But I'm *intensely*, viscerally let down, and...I hurt.
Christians...maybe stop doing this shit.
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