#like THAT is booker | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

Visit Blog

Explore Tumblr blogs with no restrictions, modern design and the best experience.

Fun Fact

Celebrities use Tumblr as well.

#like THAT is booker

mirrorofliterature · 5 months

Text

there's something very amatonormative about the way booker sees the world

he tells nicky and joe that they had always had each other, whilst andy and booker only had themselves and their grief and that's uncharitable and an amatonormative way of looking at the world.

yes, nicky and joe are in a long-term romantic and sexual relationship that is very solid, but that doesn't negate like... their platonic relationships?

when booker says that, it is so damn self-absorbed and naive and amatonormative

does he not realise that nicky and joe have always been with him too? that nicky and joe lost quynh too? sure, andy lost her lover but look at nicky and joe when they tell nile about quynh - they loved her and her loss deeply fucked them up.

booker's betrayal is so, so selfish and amatonormative. and sure he had his reasons - grief, alcoholism, depression - but those are not excuses, but explanations. I'm on the side of 'booker is a character and what he did was understandable and he clearly needs therapy' but 'holy SHIT let nicky and joe feel BETRAYED because they were and shouldn't have to moderate their reaction to protect ickle booker' - like the amount of work booker needs to put in for a proper reconciliation is astronomical.

anyway I digress. by saying 'you always had each other', booker is being an amatonormative little shit who downplays both nicky and joe's platonic relationships, I love and care for the other immortals, including him, but also that they have suffered loss too - their families, and how their first meeting wasn't exactly serendipitous.

anyway! booker's framing of nicky and joe is deeply fucked up, stemming from amatonormativity and booker's worldview of competing grief. like booker.... grief sucks but it's not a competition, y'know?

anyway! this is a Reading TM of booker's worldview vis a via nicky and joe that I've felt strongly about because booker just like. is so self-absorbed in his grief that he cannot recognise and appreciate what he has, nor can he recognise that nicky and joe's lives haven't been sunshine and rainbows because they're in a romantic relationship.

like bro. they love you. go to therapy.

#the old guard #meta #booker #anti booker #well more like #booker critical #but I like to err on the side of caution #amatonormativity #kaysanova #nicolo di genova #yusuf al kaysani #like they lost their families and quynh too y'know there's no monopoly on grief

286 notes · View notes

pokemon-ranger-booker · 8 months

Text

ppl online love to talk about espurr and how they actually are Not As Hard To Care For As You Think when in reality daylight savings is a nightmare because you have to change their feeding schedule by a whole HOUR when they're a type of pokemon that, when you don't feed them at exactly the same time each day, can and will blow up your entire fucking toilet bowl

#i love my espurr #but like #holy honchcrow #porcelain EVERYWHERE #pokemon #pokemon ranger #pokemon ranger booker #pkmn irl #pokemon irl

134 notes · View notes

lulu2992 · 7 months

Text

Speaking of BioShock Infinite, have I ever told you about that time I made a timeline of the BioShock series?

Tumblr made the image smaller so I’ve uploaded the original here :)

It’s far from being exhaustive because the reason I drew this in the first place was to make sure I really understood Infinite (the ending, especially) and Burial at Sea, so only the most significant and/or pivotal events are featured here. I later added some stuff from the other two games and the Minerva’s Den DLC after playing them. However, the novel BioShock: Rapture isn’t included because I haven’t read it (and it seems it’s generally not considered canon anyway).

I made this 8 years ago (with Paint, haha) but very recently translated it and made some adjustments so I could post it! I didn’t check everything I wrote because it’s been a while since I’ve really thought about the lore of BioShock, so I decided to trust my 2015 self and assume she knew what she was doing :’)

143 notes · View notes

up-in-flames-writing · 4 months

Text

In lieu of Stuff Your Kindle day, can we talk about the issue of how the m/m genre of books, romance or not, is almost entirely dominated by women? Can we talk about how the most recognisable gay couples in media are written by women? Can we talk about how queer men can't even write about ourselves, how we are only allowed to exist when it's from the point of view of a straight woman sexualising us?

Can we talk about that? Or am I going to get called misogynistic for pointing out the disparity between who gets the writing deals, & who gets their books turned into movies, & whose shit gets popular versus whose doesn't? Can we talk about how m/m fiction is only allowed when it appeals to a cishet gaze, or is that too much for tumblr to take?

Can we also talk about how trans queer men are even more hated by publishing? Can we talk about how we get shit from both sides? Can we talk about how books about the experiences of being a queer man, written by queer men, never get the same recognition as books written by women on this subject (barring academia which has its own problems)?

Can we talk about that? Can we?

#booker speaks #no bloody clue how to tag this #this is for the tags only but #people would get up in arms if the f/f book scene was dominated by cismen only #why are we not extending this same energy to ciswomen writers of m/m?#why did we forget about the original meaning of own voices?#why are queer men pushed out of publishing in the way that we are?#& im not just talking about romance here #like there are fantasy & scifi & contemporary novels about men loving men that are written by ciswomen who have a very narrow view of what #m/m relationships are like. & this extends towards stuff like manga too but im not gonna get into that cause i dont read mangs/comics #can we talk about how hard it is to find queer masc authors nowadays?#saying this both as a reader & as a writer #can we also talk about how lists of queer & especially trans novels almost always forget to include anything by transmascs & gay transmascs #or if they do include us its 1 transmasc book to 1 enby book to 8 transfem books or books about the 'trans experience' in nebulous terms #can we stop reccing detransition baby & start reccing the spirit bares its teeth?#can we look at works written by queer masc people that arent just red white royal blue & stone butch blues?#go read cemetary boys #read alexis hall & max turner #read bloom if you like comics. or nimona #read my shit too!#im gonna be focusing on my writing blog way more this year #& im working on some projects that may or may not end up being published in physical form #read more queer masc stories by queer masc authors!

64 notes · View notes

youssefguedira · 23 days

Text

wrote this instead of doing any of my actual tasks <3 tw for brief mention of animal death (by hunting)

Yusuf has been dreading this since the moment they left for Akkala. He had made as many excuses as he could to stay in Goron City for as long as he could, but every one had run out in the end, and he could no longer put off the inevitable.

The first time he had walked this road, his father had accompanied him with a platoon of guards, still cautious, still reeling from the attack that had taken Yusuf's mother. The second time there had been fewer, but still many.

In the years after that, the number of people sent with him had decreased even further until it was only two or three guards, enough to keep him safe. His father stopped accompanying him on these journeys after he turned fourteen and there had been no sign of their worth.

Now, only Nicolò.

He follows, keeping a respectful distance away from Yusuf, but closer than he had walked before they had gone to meet Nile, to ask for her help. He doesn't ever ask to stop, or to slow down, letting Yusuf set the pace. He keeps a hand on the hilt of his sword and does not speak.

What is there to be said? Nicolò knows what lies at the end of this road, even if he does not know what it will mean for Yusuf.

Yusuf can feel Nicolò's eyes on his back. It is bad enough that the whole kingdom knows he is a failure: he does not need Nicolò to watch him fail and say nothing.

The sun is low, casting the landscape in burnt orange. It would be beautiful were it not so horribly familiar. There is a cabin nearby, and not far from it, the Spring. They will stay in the cabin tonight; they will leave for the Spring in the morning and spend three days there, then return to Goron City and after that, the castle.

Yusuf thinks about returning, about his father's inevitable disappointment, and feels sick.

“Yusuf,” Nicolò says, sounding uncertain. He is not yet used to calling Yusuf by his name. “We are not far, yes?”

Yusuf had forgotten that Nicolò does not know every cursed inch of this road the way Yusuf does. “No, not far. In a moment you'll see the cabin.”

Nicolò says nothing. Yusuf glances back just long enough to meet his eyes before looking away.

What is Nicolò thinking? Yusuf can never tell.

Yusuf catches sight of the cabin a moment later. Dread sits like a stone in his stomach.

When they get closer, Nicolò takes hold of his elbow, gentle. It startles Yusuf all the same - he hadn't realised Nicolò was that close to him.

“Let me go first,” Nicolò says. “To check. But stay close.”

Yusuf nods, and lingers barely a handspan from Nicolò's back while he surveys first the outside, then the inside, of the cabin. Once he's satisfied, he gestures for Yusuf to enter.

“You should rest,” he says, and he is being so gentle with Yusuf it almost hurts. Perhaps Andromache has told him what this will mean for him: she has accompanied him before.

Yusuf shakes his head, because sleep means dreams, and dreams will be worse. “What are you going to do?”

“I am going to find something for dinner,” Nicolò says.

“Let me come with you,” Yusuf says. Anything is better than sitting in this cabin alone with his thoughts.

Nicolò looks at him for a long moment. Perhaps he takes pity on Yusuf, or perhaps he thinks that it will be easier to keep Yusuf safe if he stays with Nicolò. Either way, he nods. “All right.”

----------

Finding something for dinner means that Nicolò leads Yusuf a little way into the woods, far enough that the foliage and the dying sunlight makes it difficult to see, and bids him hide beneath a tree, in a space formed by the roots, while Nicolò crouches beside him with his bow, nocking an arrow in one smooth, seamless motion. From his vantage point, Yusuf can see a small clearing with a few fallen trees.

“Do not move,” Nicolò instructs him in a whisper, “and do not make a sound.”

Yusuf rests his head against the tree and watches the leaves move in the breeze. It is quiet enough that all he can hear is their rustling, the sounds of birds and animals calling to each other, the rushing of the stream nearby. After a moment, and with nothing else to watch, Yusuf begins to watch Nicolò.

He has gone as still and as quiet as the trees around them, barely breathing, his shoulders rising and falling only slightly, like he has become a part of the forest. Faron Woods is much further south from here, but Yusuf supposes that this forest must be somewhat similar to where Nicolò grew up. He wonders who taught him to hunt; who taught him to be so comfortable in this place. Why he left it behind to travel to the castle and work for the king.

There are a lot of things Yusuf wonders about him. He cannot tell if Nicolò is aware of Yusuf’s watching; he must be. Still, Yusuf cannot help but watch.

It happens faster than Yusuf can track. Nicolò goes entirely still, and draws his bow swiftly, silently. Yusuf holds his breath and so does the forest.

Nicolò lets the arrow fly.

Yusuf doesn’t see whether it finds its mark, but Nicolò looks for a moment and then stands. “Wait here,” he says to Yusuf, and then heads for the clearing. When he returns he’s carrying something behind his back, the arrow in his other hand. Blood drips onto the grass.

“You can wait inside while I prepare it, if you prefer,” Nicolò says haltingly. Yusuf shakes his head, and so he sits on a log outside while Nicolò skins the rabbit, arms wrapped around his knees and chin drawn up to his chest. Nicolò keeps his back to Yusuf, shielding most of it from view.

Who taught him this? Yusuf wonders. It is a part of Nicolò he has never seen before.

When it is done, he takes it back inside to cook over the fire, and they eat it alongside the bread and cheese they brought from Goron City, across from each other at the cabin’s little table.

“When do you want to leave, tomorrow?” Nicolò asks softly.

“I don’t,” Yusuf says before he can stop himself, and then adds, “I don’t know. Early, probably.” The thought bursts the little bubble he’s been in since they arrived. He doesn’t want to leave, could stay here for the three days they’ve been allocated and return to his father without even having tried and it would change nothing.

“Just after sunrise, then,” Nicolò says. “It is not far, you said?”

Yusuf shakes his head. “No,” he says. “Not far.”

----------

The water is freezing.

It has always been freezing. But Yusuf knows well enough that if he stands in it for long enough, it will start to warm. It reaches to around halfway up his thigh; when he was younger, it felt deeper.

The stone in front of him offers nothing. No sign, no indication that anything is listening to him except for the water and Nicolò, who has been standing at the gate of the Spring for however long he has been in here. Has he been listening? Has he heard Yusuf pleading for something, anything, dreading the moment he returns to the castle and his father looks down at his left hand and sees nothing there?

What does Nicolò think of him now? If he did not see a failure before, does he see one now?

His legs may be going numb. They tremble beneath him, struggling to hold his weight. How long has he been standing here?

“Tell me what I am doing wrong,” he begs the stone. His voice sounds like it’s coming from somewhere else. “I know I am not the one you wanted, but I am trying. I am trying. I have given everything. I do not know how much more I have left.”

The stone says nothing.

Nicolò says, “Yusuf.”

Yusuf hears him without listening, falls to his knees in the water and does not even feel the chill.

“Please,” he pleads. “I cannot return – I cannot give anymore.”

There is a splash behind him, and then there is Nicolò, pulling him to his feet, pulling him from the water. Yusuf tries to hold fast - he cannot leave now or it will have been three days in the Spring with nothing to show for it.

“Yusuf,” Nicolò says again. His grip is gentle but unrelenting, and he is warm. Yusuf, shivering as he is, can’t help but lean into it. “You are exhausted. You are going to freeze. Come with me.”

“I can’t,” Yusuf says, even as he lets Nicolò take his weight, lets him guide Yusuf out of the Spring. “I can’t.”

There is a small paved area where their camp is set up. Nicolò has kept the fire going, or restarted it, while Yusuf was in there, and he half-carries Yusuf over to it now. Yusuf’s legs buckle under him the moment Nicolò lets him go, and he sinks onto something soft laid over the paving stones. He blinks, and there is a bowl in his hands, warming even if he does not really taste it.

“It was never supposed to be me,” Yusuf says without really meaning to.

From across the fire, Nicolò watches him.

“It was supposed to be my mother,” Yusuf whispers. The only sound between them is the crackling of the fire. Yusuf is so, so tired. He has never said this to anybody else, not even Andromache, but he cannot keep the words from rushing out of him now.

“It came to her when she was nineteen,” he says, “and that’s how they knew it would happen in her lifetime. So she trained, and she mastered it, and we were ready. And then she was killed, and because I was the oldest, it came to me.”

He does not like thinking about this. He has not thought about this in years. They do not speak of it anymore.

Nicolò is still watching him.

“I was asleep when it happened,” Yusuf continues. “I dreamt it as it happened, but I didn’t know until later. The moment she died, I woke up screaming. They told me afterwards that I was– I was glowing, bright enough that nobody could look at me for long or get close enough to see what was happening to me. They just had to wait until I came out of it. It felt like I was burning.” If he closes his eyes, he is there again, twelve years old and terrified.

“That’s how we know it should be me,” he says after a moment. “Who can do it. Because I did, once, but never again, despite all of this.” He waves at the Spring, the water, the stone.

Exhaustion tugs at him. His eyes will not stay open, but he cannot let himself fall asleep, not yet.

“Don’t let me fall asleep,” he tells Nicolò. “There’s still time.” It cannot be late yet; the sun has gone down, but it is not quite dark. “Don’t let me.”

“You have to rest,” Nicolò says. It is the first thing he has said to Yusuf since he pulled him from the Spring, and Yusuf cannot tell what he is thinking.

“I can’t fall asleep,” Yusuf insists.

“At least let yourself warm up first,” Nicolò says. There is a pile of dry clothes in his hands - where did he get them?

Nicolò convinces him to change and to sit back down, to rest a little while longer. This time he steers Yusuf to sit down on his bedroll instead, and Yusuf’s grip on his arm goes tight.

“Don’t let me fall asleep,” he says again.

“You cannot go on like this,” Nicolò says. “Sleep, and I will wake you in a few hours’ time.”

Yes, a few hours. That, Yusuf can afford. “Promise me,” Yusuf says, but his eyes are already closing unbidden.

Nicolò says nothing.

----------

When Yusuf wakes, it is still dark outside, and there is a cloak that is not his own draped over him. Nicolò is crouched over the fire only a short distance away. He catches Yusuf’s eye, but doesn’t say a word.

It all comes crashing back at once: the water, the stone, Nicolò. Yusuf sits up.

“You didn’t wake me,” he says.

Nicolò watches him for a long moment. “You needed the rest,” he says finally.

Suddenly his consideration stings. “That wasn’t your decision to make. What time is it?”

Nicolò glances at the sky. “It will be sunrise soon.”

Yusuf’s heart sinks. Sunrise means return, means return to the castle and his father with nothing. He gets up, pushes Nicolò’s cloak aside. “You should have woken me.”

Unexpectedly, Nicolò pushes back. “You would have only made yourself ill. You were barely conscious. I would not have done it if–” “That was not your decision to make,” Yusuf snaps. “I am not a child, Nicolò. I am capable of handling myself. I have lost hours.”

Nicolò does not say anything. Yusuf almost wishes he would keep pushing, but he does not. He simply folds himself back into the same blank expression he always carries, and again, Yusuf cannot read him.

“If the sun will rise soon, there is not much use in staying here for much longer,” Nicolò says eventually, quiet. He doesn’t meet Yusuf’s eyes. Guilt twists his stomach.

Did Nicolò know? Did Andromache warn him? Or was he just worried?

Yusuf nods.

They pack up their camp in silence, side by side. By the time they set off on the road back towards Goron City, the sun has risen, and the early light turns the world around them to gold.

Yusuf walks, and Nicolò follows behind him, as always.

#neon writes #the zelda au which lives only in my head #spring of power baby! if this seems vaguely familiar setup wise its because ive moved the vague plot of the mount lanayru ficlet here #this is a fairly early stage in their relationship booker is the 3rd champion they find (before andy who's the last)#so like. yusuf is warming up to him (hence him actually talking to nicolo) but is still. going through his whole deal #he'll apologise i promise hes just having a rough go of it the springs are a bit of a touchy subject #spring of power btw. nicolo on the other hand has not quite realised the full extent of whats up wrt yusuf and the springs #and his father generally. he doesnt think yusufs a failure tho thats just yusufs brain #anyway ive been replaying age of calamity and Wow botw zelda is the character of all time. for sure. obsessed with her #so i'm channeling that into this. feat. the reveal of what happened with yusufs mom #anyway. enjoy <3 #the old guard #kaysanova #fine main tag. whatever. this is for me and the 2 people who have expressed interest in this au #it haunts me daily

35 notes · View notes

max-nolastname · 2 years

Text

when the old guard was like “heres a group of functionally immortal warriors, hundreds, thousands of years old” and then it was like “btw, they can die anytime, still! they will always bounce back until one day, seemingly at random, they dont” and then it was like “what if you came into your immortal life alongside another? they are your partner in every way you dont know immortal life without them but you understand that one day you might just have go on for another thousand years without them” and then it was like “what if an immortal was imprisoned in an environment where they die every minute again and again for hundreds of years with no relief” and then it was like “what if an immortal had severe depression”

#the old guard #2old2guard #tog #i watched tog 7 times in one month #u guys are extremely lucky i didnt start up this tumblr during that time period #the incoherent meta posts i would have been chugging out daily would have been insane #i have been rattling andy quynh joe nicky booker nile in my silly little head for over a year #theyre... they are a lot #nile came into the scene and was like wow you guys are a lot #also some of the fanfics in this fandom are insane bonkers #like wow you really broke down the human condition in a 100k+ fanfic about a youngold depressed french man opening a bakery

642 notes · View notes

raptureshots · 24 days

Text

FRANK FONTAINE'S APARTMENT

its fucking weird!!!!

big. long rant/analysis thing cuz uhh my brain works in weird ways!

FIRSTLY. THE WEIRD SHIT. He has no closet or shower (its just. a Tub. no shower head), 16 boxes of cigars on a shelf, no kitchen sink, a fucking fireplace???? in his bedroom, his bed is literally on a platform, 5 separate sets of stairs, 17 Bookshelves, a fucking ZEN GARDEN???? three separate taxidermy animals, 9 random carpets, three whole fridges and no tvs.???

His bedroom as a whole is LARGE but not decorated at all, like theres so much empty space. literally three pieces of furniture in the whole room??? One is his bed, then a COUCH. A WHOLE COUCH right in front of said bed, and a random chair?? just on the other side of the room???

ALSO. the fucking pool table?? its just in a dark corner of a room?? with no pool balls or ANY pool equipment at all anywhere near it

His apartment in general doesn't seem LIVED in. Like its decorated and artificial in a way. but it also FITS him and his character? He's a business and conman, bro probably doesn't have much time to be at home in general but needs to pass as just. a Normal Guy so he makes it appear lived in.

Okay. Now I wanna talk about the fucking. VITA CHAMBER. i know it is literally just there for convince and game reasons, but looking at it as if this was real, WHY DOES HE HAVE ONE. WHY. Ryan distributed them around Rapture, yes, but they were never advertised as being able to revive people. Only that they could rejuvenate you. AND. FONTAINE "DIED" AROUND THE SAME TIME THEY STARTED BEING PRODUCED SO. WHY IS IT THERE!!!!!! Did Ryan put it there as a precaution??? Which also makes me wonder, What exactly happened to Fontaine's apartment after his death?? I know the timeline for BioShock is kinda fucky so..??

( Just know I'm basing. Parts of this off the Book and the Wiki . Take this with like a fuckton of Salt )

Overall, I do think his apartment is designed well and fits his character!!! I love just. the whole scenery of BioShock as a whole and I do think its cool that we get to see both his apartment AND Fontaine Futurists... Maybe one day I'll analyze/talk about his office :-)!! ty for reading this all

#bioshock #frank fontaine #Jack Rambles ‼️#ty Booker for telling me to post this!!! and that Frank's APT seems decorated to fit his persona.. shoutout!!!!!#theres some other stuff i wanted to talk abt but couldnt. figure out how to piece it in #and i needa. fact check it as well.#some of this stuff could VERY MUCH be wrong!!! this is just. what I made of his apartment #I wrote this thing like. a month ago.. maybe I should take another look around soon #frank nibbles fontaine ily

29 notes · View notes

Last Seen Blogs

ludovicahappy

kitto

southsidewrites

lost in my mind

alwaysmarveling

muito muito bava

fuckfacetheunicorn

Fuck Face the Unicorn

aplama1gul

denizeaçıkbirgül