[ID: Against a black background, two sepia-tinted pictures of Qi Tiezui and Zhang Qishan surrounding the twelfth card of the Rider-Waite-Smith deck: The Hanged Man. Title reads, ‘the stories we tell, by chancellorxofxtrash, written by Thimblerig’ End ID]
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: 老九门 | Old Nine Gates (TV), 盗墓笔记 - 南派三叔 | The Grave Robbers' Chronicles - Xu Lei
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Relationships: Qi Tie Zui/Zhang Qishan
Characters: Qi Tie Zui, Zhang Qishan
Additional Tags: Trans Qi Tie Zui, Canon Scene Retelling, Ba Ye Is An Unreliable Narrator In Canon, Brief Misgendering From A Villain, Canon-Typical Violence, Whump, Mutual Wound-Treating, Featuring Ba Ye's Rambling, And Also Featuring Fo Ye's Heart Eyes, Podfic, Podfic Length: 20-30 Minutes
Summary:
Qi Tiezui liked to tell the story of that time when he was kidnapped, and Fo Ye saved him.
So what if a few details were not exactly accurate?
So one of the most profound comments on routine chores that I've ever encountered was, hilariously, the Pickle Rick episode of "Rick & Morty," where (after a lot of shenanigans have already ensued) this therapist absolutely lays Rick out:
"I have no doubt that you would be bored senseless by therapy, the same way I'm bored when I brush my teeth and wipe my ass. Because the thing about repairing, maintaining, and cleaning is: it's not an adventure. There's no way to do it so wrong you might die. It's just work. And the bottom line is some people are okay going to work and some people, well, some people would rather die. Each of us gets to choose."
I think about this at least once a week — usually while I'm doing my laundry or sweeping or some other task that needs doing and won't get me anything more than clean clothing or a dog-hair-free floor. There's no Pulitzer for wiping down your microwave or scrubbing your toilet; no one's awarding you for getting all the dishes out of the sink. At best you have the satisfaction of crossing it off your list.
Voting is very much the same (and I'm talking about the US here, as an American). Sure, you sometimes get a sticker; but nobody's going to cheer for you. There's no adventure here, no potential for anything more than crossing something off of a list. It's a chore, something that needs doing in order to repair, maintain, and yes even clean. So I get why people don't like doing it.
And I've decided I don't give a shit.
Do it anyway. Your country takes astonishingly little from you — taxes, the once-in-a-blue-moon jury duty, and a theoretical draft that hasn't been used in over half a century and likely will never be again — but it asks you (asks! not requires! not demands!) to vote once a year. It's not always easy; especially in conservative states, the impediments to vote can be ridiculous. But it is once a year and unlike in our nation's all-too-recent past, you will not die if you do it.
In fact, the worst outcome from voting these days is that the person or issue that you vote for loses — but you won't know if they lose until after the election. Polls are less accurate now, for a whole host of reasons; you cannot know until after the election who or what will win. This makes your vote more valuable than possibly ever before.
Use that power. Not because it's exciting or even rewarding, but because your vote is what keeps our country's metaphorical teeth from falling out and our metaphorical ass from stinking.
An old lady, very old, watches the TV with horro in her eyes and folds her palms, looks at the small Laddoo Gopal ki murti in her Pooja Home and says, "Ab to aao Girdhar Gopal, kabse aas lagaye hai." (atleast now come, Girdhar Gopal. We await you to to come {and annihilate evil}.)
Away from all this at a small house near a river, the loud cries of a woman rattled the whole house as she pushed at her stomach, the pain being unbearing as she cried out for help, the midwives helping her. Lightning started to crackle in the sky, heavy rain started pouring down with lightning and lightning, the river was in full swing.
With a final cry the pain subsided, her face drenched in sweat and tears as she felt herself fainting, when her eyes were snapped open as she felt something on her chest.
"You have birthed such a beautiful baby boy, look!" The midwife had cried out happily and she teared up, looking at the dark skinned small bundle of joy, who was crying, covered in a thick blanket.
Suddenly her eyes were dazzled by the effect of a bright light, and she closed her eyes in between. She slowly opened one eye and looked up, and was stunned. The huge silhouette of a man with four arms holding different things stood in front of her, as she looked wide eyed at the huge silhouette in front of her, and then slowly looked at the baby.
Nanami ordering himself 4 sandwiches (and, apparently, being ready to eat them all in one sitting since he already put them all on the table) makes so irrationally happy.
I want to write an essay to that last yuuji ask on GOD but one I'm not good with words and two I can not think straight rn cause I swear I could picture it all crystal clear like l... I want to say a thousand times the word like cause I'm so speechless rn... I'm almost crying you have no idea he makes me want to turn into a beast and devour him!! He totally is chatty during sex thats actually canon and and I feel my throat dry rn.... The creampie part I will stop now cause that's too much for me to handle right this second but just know that you my friend are the biggest brained person ever. Don't you just wish you could ruin him?
yeah :// he’s too good to be true, the strong urge to choke him just to make him red in the face but knowing that it probably doesn’t even hurt him or phase him because he’s freakishly strong like that… god…
yk that tweet that’s like “fucking in missionary so we can keep arguing during it>” that’s yuuji, but you’re not arguing, he’s just yapping fr. and it’s so…. him because, yeah, part of it is dirty talk, and he can’t help but to spill everything on his mind when he’s inside of you, but also a lot of it is memories of you. he’ll literally be fucking you within an inch of your life and find time to go, “hey, babe—fuck—remember, ah, remember megumi’s birthday dinner last year? that dress you wore… you looked so fucken pretty?” “did you buy this necklace at the same place nobara got—shit—got her new ring from? it looks—looks real good on you, you know?” “we should go get dessert after, i know how much you like the banana bread from that one cafe. and you’re so pretty when you’re happy.” and it’s so insane because why can’t he shut up, but kinda sweet bc you get this glimmer into yuuji’s mind, how he sees you, how he all his memories of you seem to be skewed for him to believe you’re perfect, perfect, perfect, and something about having his dick inside of you and you looking him in the eye while he’s fucking you seems to invoke those feelings… loverboy :(
but when he’s not chatting about you, he’s chatting about the things he wants to do to you. he’s pretty about open sex, but you always find that some things seem to slip out when he’s on the brink of orgasm, something about almost being over the edge releases all his inhibitions, he can’t stop himself from mumbling about how much he wishes he could cum inside of you, how he kinda wants to choke you bc he thinks you’d pretty with his hand around your neck, how he wants to mark you and make you his forever… and he never brings it up after… honestly sometimes you think you’re imagining it yourself, stuck in your post-orgasm haze, but you swear yuuji mentioned something about how your his but he’d share you with megumi if he asked..
I will never forget dc we finally got acrruet cast death looking twink Bruce Wayne and perfect dilf Clark and can't stand the fact will never seeing the in the screen toggeter rip superbat you could have made so many queers+girls happy