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[fuckyeahgoodomens]

Good Omens Finale trailer!!!!!!!!!!

[crystalis]

There was this woman poet in 4th century China called Su Hui (蘇蕙), a child genius who had reportedly mastered Chinese characters by age 3.

At 21 years old, heartbroken by her husband who left her for another woman, she decided to encode her feelings in a structure so intricate, so beautiful, so intellectually staggering that it still baffles scholars to this day.

Came to be known as the Xuanji Tu (璇璣圖) - the "Star Gauge" or "Map of the Armillary Sphere" - it's a 29 by 29 grid of 841 characters that can produce over 4,000 different poems.

Read it forward. Read it backward. Read it horizontally, vertically, diagonally. Read it spiraling outward from the center. Read it in circles around the outer edge. Each path through the grid produces a different poem - all of them coherent, all of them beautiful, all of them rhyming, all of them expressing variations on the same themes of longing, betrayal, regret, and undying love.

The outer ring of 112 characters forms a single circular poem - believed to be both the first and longest of its kind ever written. The interior grid produces 2,848 different four-line poems of seven characters each. In addition, there are hundreds of other smaller and longer poems, depending on the reading method.

At the center a single character she left implied but unwritten: 心 (xin) - "heart." Later copyists would add it explicitly, but in Su Hui's original the meaning was even more beautiful: 4,000 poems, all orbiting the space where her heart used to be.

Take for instance the outer red grid of the Star Gauge. Starting from the top right corner and reading down, you get this seven-character quatrain:

仁智懷德聖虞唐，

貞志篤終誓穹蒼，

欽所感想妄淫荒，

心憂增慕懷慘傷。

In pinyin, it is:

Rén zhì huái dé shèng yú táng,

zhēnzhì dǔ zhōng shì qióng cāng,

qīn suǒ gǎnxiǎng wàng yín huāng,

xīn yōu zēng mù huái cǎn shāng.

Notice how it rhymes? táng / cāng / huāng / shāng

The rough translation in English is: "The benevolent and wise cherish virtue, like the sage-kings Yao and Shun, With steadfast will I swear to the heavens above, What I revere and feel - how could it be wanton or dissolute? My heart's sorrow grows, longing brings only grief."

Now read it from the bottom to the top and you get this entirely different seven-character quatrain:

傷慘懷慕增憂心，

荒淫妄想感所欽，

蒼穹誓終篤志貞，

唐虞聖德懷智仁。

The pinyin:

Shāng cǎn huái mù zēng yōu xīn,

huāngyín wàngxiǎng gǎn suǒ qīn,

cāngqióng shì zhōng dǔzhì zhēn,

táng yúshèngdé huái zhì rén.

It rhymes too: xīn and qīn, zhēn and rén

And the meaning is just as beautiful and coherent: "Grief and sorrow, longing fills my worried heart, Wanton and dissolute fantasies - is that what you revere? I swear to the heavens my constancy is true, May we embody the sage-kings' virtue, wisdom, and benevolence."

That's just 2 poems out of the over 4,000 you can construct from the Xuanji Tu!

At the very center of the grid, the 8 red characters wrapped around the central heart, she "signed" her poem with a hidden message:

詩圖璇玑，始平蘇氏。 "The poem-picture of the Armillary Sphere, by Su of Shiping."

Or reversed:

蘇氏詩圖，璇玑始平。 "Su's poem-picture - the Armillary Sphere begins in peace."

Many scholars, and even emperors, throughout Chinese history have been completely obsessed by Su Hui's puzzle.

For instance, in the Ming dynasty, a scholar named Kang Wanmin (康萬民) devoted his entire life to the poems (kangshiw.com/contents/461/2…), ending up documenting twelve different reading methods - forward, backward, diagonal, radiating, corner-to-corner, spiraling - and extracting 4,206 poems. His book on the subject ("Reading Methods for the Xuanji Tu Poems", 璇璣圖詩讀法) runs to hundreds of pages.

Empress Wu Zetian herself, the legendary woman emperor of the Tang dynasty, wrote a preface to the Xuanji Tu around 692 CE (baike.baidu.com/item/%E7%BB%87…).

Incredibly, there's even far more complexity to the Xuanji Tu than just the poems:

- The name 璇玑 (Xuanji) - Armillary Sphere - is astronomical in meaning and the way the poems can be read mirrors the way celestial bodies orbit around a fixed center. It's a model of the heavens.

- Her original work, with the characters woven on silk brocade, was in five colors (red, black, blue/green, purple, and yellow) which correspond to the Five Elements (五行) - the foundational Chinese philosophical system that explains how the universe operates. So it's also a model of the entire cosmic order according to ancient Chinese philosophy.

- It's also of course deeply mathematical with this 29 x 29 perfect square grid, with sub-squares, lines and rectangles, and a structure which allows for symmetrical reading patterns in all directions

- Last but not least, the content of the poems themselves contain multiple registers. On top of expressing her personal grief and longing for her husband, it's also filled with accusations against the concubine (Zhao Yangtai) he left her for, reflections on politics (with many references to sage-kings) and philosophical reflections.

So the Star Gauge is simultaneously:

- A love letter (expressing personal longing)

- A legal brief (arguing her case against her rival)

- A cosmological model (structured like the heavens)

- A Five Element diagram (encoding the fundamental structure of the world according to ancient Chinese philosophy)

- A mathematical construction with perfect symmetry and precision

And yet, for all this complexity, we should not forget this was all ultimately in service of the simplest human message imaginable: a 21-year-old woman asking the love of her life "come back to me".

Her husband did, eventually. According to what empress Wu Zetian herself wrote in her preface to the Xuanji Tu, when he received Su's brocade he was so "moved by its supreme beauty" that he sent away his concubine and returned to his wife. As the story goes, they lived together until old age.

The heart at the center was filled after all.

[greatsouthernpansy]

Here I placed the Pansy bait out now get your ass over here whore /affectionate

Good pansy bait

[sparrow-the-tired-lesbian]

CAUGHT

[greatsouthernpansy]

With my pants down

[sparrow-the-tired-lesbian]

We are lesbians for this man

[greatsouthernpansy]

No I'm gay for that man

[vivi-theakuneko]

Had to stop drawing the other comic to do this lmao

[fuckyeahchinesefashion]

OP: Ever since I sent the kids to learn minyue民乐(traditional Chinese musical instruments), they've become like this. (The instruments in the video are guzheng古筝 and dagu大鼓, OP mentioned that live audio recording was poor, so they re-recorded and then dubbed in.)

[rayraywillis]

Wow are there any more videos of them playing? If so can u share? They are so awesome! I could jam to them playing all day! Would love to see more!

[neosatsuma]

jury-rigged. even keel. by the board. three sheets to the wind. loose cannon. son of a gun. pipe down. taken aback.

[sunlaire]

Give me some leeway, hit the head, learning the ropes, the cat is out of the bag, get underway, the cut of your jib, true colors, hand over fist

[clove-pinks]

under the weather, in the doldrums, long shot, toe the line, groggy, aloof, overhaul, mainstay, pooped, keel over, in the offing, give a wide berth, footloose, flying colors, press into service, shake a leg

[fuckyeahnaturalphilosophy]

Chock-a-block. Scuttlebutt. By and large. Above board. Slush fund. Batten down the hatches. Shot across the bow. At loggerheads. Squared away. Dead reckoning. Down in the doldrums. Touch and go. Fathom/plumb. Leading light. Overwhelm, overreach. Skyscraper (originally a sail at the very tip top of a mast!). The bitter end.

[teaboot]

we’re all in the same boat

[farah-phoebe]

We not in the same boat, but the same storm. I got a raft, while some got a yacht.

[aziraphales-library]

Basically, Crowley confesses to aziraphale a lot, but it freaks AZ out so he takes Crowley's memories and puts them in a box. After the Armageddon That Couldn't az gives Crowley the memories and then there's angst or whatever.

Forgotten Moments by Bookwormgal (T)

Every time that Crowley confessed how much he loved his angel, Aziraphale made him forget. At first, out of denial of what Crowley was telling him. Later, out of fear of what would happen if Crowley's feelings were discovered. But no matter how many times the demon forgot about his previous confessions, he never stopped. And it broke Aziraphale's heart every time that he took those memories away.

- Mod D

[aziraphales-library]

Hiya! Hope you are well! I was looking for a fic where Aziraphale and Crowley are less pining mutually through the times but rather are both aware that they like each other but are also aware that they cannot like each other so it’s about restraining casual touches before they turn even more raunchy. Ie, lots of sexual tension and tacit flirtation. Basically I read this fic and really want to read something like it: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21525292?view_adult=true

Hello. I haven't read the one you've mentioned, but these are the fics that came to mind. Various levels of physical contact and touching, but many types of tension and not being able to be open about their feelings...

Technicalities by curtaincall (M)

Aziraphale is always very careful with his wording. Crowley's never really been in a position to question it.

De Amore by Aethelflaed (G)

Aziraphale has come to Paris to find the answer to an important question: What's it like to be in love? Crowley's not sure why he wants to know, but he's willing to discuss it to make his angel happy...

A Midsummer Afternoon's Curse by cyankelpie (G)

(Aziraphale is the victim of a love spell, and needs Crowley’s help to break it. Which is a problem, because it’s very difficult for Crowley to focus while Aziraphale lavishes him with affection.) The rest of the sentence got knocked out of him by a large, off-white blur that flew out of the door and tackled him. “Crowley,” said a familiar voice, though the breathy fondness and affection in said voice was anything but familiar. “I knew you’d come.” Oh. It was Crowley. Crowley was the target of Aziraphale’s magical infatuation. Aziraphale wanted Crowley’s help ridding him of this newfound affection for Crowley. And Crowley, who somehow needed to be the level-headed one in this situation, was utterly fucked.

You, Soft and Only by thehoyden (E)

He hadn’t expected a sudden lapful of angel. “Very sorry about this,” Aziraphale said, and kissed him.

these furious passions, these chances by Ark (E)

Jesus fucking Christ, he’s in love with Crowley.

Between the Lines by cyankelpie (G)

Crowley took a gulp of ale and gestured with the mug. “Love’s a big word. How can you be sure? Humans mistake these things a lot.”

“Angels don’t. If they knew I could feel it, maybe they’d try to tone it down a little.”

Crowley stopped moving. Aziraphale was still talking, but he couldn’t hear over the pounding of his pulse in his head. “You can feel that?” he said, when he regained enough of his composure to put together a sentence.

“Yes, I—” Aziraphale broke off just for a moment, and his eyes flicked down to the table. “Yes, I can feel it, Crowley.”

(It's hard being two supernatural entities on opposite sides who are in love with each other. It's even harder knowing that those feelings are returned, and that acknowledging it openly would be disastrous.)

And the one you mentioned...

Sunlight and Water by the_moonmoth (M)

What if Aziraphale were a flirty drunk?

- Mod D

[marz-rm]

Connor, I need you to look me straight in the eyes and promise me, unless it's for health reasons, that you will never touch your moles because they are fucking beautiful. sorry for the obnoxious watermark, but my drawings are doing numbers on twt and I've already saw people remove it with AI, so yeah. As always no watermark and other versions only on patreon

[marz-rm]

Well, I'm dead.

[rayraywillis]

I am absolutely in love with this artist!! Have see almost all of your stuff and every one knocks the breath out of me, they are so gorgeous! Marz thank u for sharing! U always got my support!!

[casdeans-pie]

Time travel Lazarus Rising shenanigans yippee !

Read on AO3 ::::: Let Me Try This Again

There’s a knife in Dean’s hand that shouldn’t be there. The wooden handle is cool under his calloused grip, solid and so familiar. His palms are littered with invisible scars from repeatedly, pointlessly, tearing at his chains in Hell, and he can feel them all running across his skin in burning lines, as if the knife knows.

His ears are ringing, and his head is pounding, but he grips the handle tighter.

“You're the most caring man on earth. You are the most selfless, loving human being I will ever know.”

“Who are you?” Dean’s mouth moves, but he barely recognises the voice that comes out, barely registers the words.

“I’m the one who gripped you tight and raised you from perdition.”

That voice. He knows that voice. Doesn’t he? But they’re only just meeting. He can’t-

“You changed me, Dean.”

“Yeah,” Dean says, though he doesn’t even know what he’s saying. “Thanks for that.”

In one fluid motion he slams the blade into the heart of his target. It slides in with no resistance, only stopping when it’s buried to the hilt, as far as it can go, but it has no effect.

Dean looks up into a stranger’s face that’s so familiar he could pick it out of a crowd of a million people. Eyes so vibrantly blue he wants to drown in them. A self-satisfied smirk that makes him want to punch the guy’s face, even as a phantom pain of broken knuckles bursts over the back of his hand.

The ringing in Dean’s ears increases in pitch and volume and he staggers back from the sound, holding his head in his hands.

“Goodbye, Dean.”

“Cas?” Dean whispers, finally feeling in control of his voice.

The stranger – his best friend – pauses at that, and his head tilts to one side as he pulls the blade free from his chest and drops it to the ground with a loud clang.

Dean barely registers Bobby taking a swing, and the easy way he goes down after a quick touch of his forehead, because it feels like if he lets go of his head it might explode.

“Cas?” Dean says again, looking into the face of a man that he both doesn’t know and knows better than anybody. There’s an almost ghostly reflection overlaid onto him, except this version looks older, with deep crinkles in the corners of his eyes, and he’s both crying and smiling. It makes Dean’s chest ache fiercely.

Don’t go. Don’t leave me. I love you too! Why can’t I say it!

Like an elastic band snapping into place, the ground suddenly feels solid under Dean’s feet and the ringing sound vanishes, leaving him finally clearheaded. He gasps in a desperate breath and for the first time realises where he is.

It can’t be…

It’s the barn where they met.

Shards of glass from the broken lights are scattered across the floor, glittering in the shadows, sigils and protective charms have been hastily painted along the walls, and there he stands amongst it all, drowning in his trench coat – Castiel, Angel of the Lord.

The last thing Dean remembers is sitting on the cold, hard floor of the dungeon, choking on his own sobs, while his heart shattered inside his chest.

How…

Cas’s eyes narrow as he stares intensely at him, and his eyebrows scrunch together. “Your soul… it’s older than your body… that’s not possible,” he rumbles. “Are you time travel-”

He’s cut off as Dean lunges at him, wrapping his arms around his shoulders and burying his face into the crook of his neck. He smells so strongly of ozone that it makes Dean’s sinuses hurt. But he’s here. It’s Cas. He’s alive.

Dean laughs wildly, afraid that he’ll cry if he doesn’t let out some of the energy crackling inside him. “Maybe!” he almost yells into Cas’s coat collar. “Fuck, maybe I’m time travelling, maybe I’m dreaming, maybe I died on that fucking dungeon floor, but you were- and I just-” He thinks of Cas’s contented smile as he was sucked into the black void of the Empty and holds on even tighter.

Cas feels like a living statue beneath him, but the pulse in his neck kicks up a notch just before he throws Dean off and steps backwards, nearly tripping over his own feet in his haste.

It had always been that way with Cas – the cracks in his façade, the imperfections, the humanity. Even now, even when he’s as perfect a soldier as he can be, there were always cracks.

“You should-” Cas starts, straightening up to his full height, and clearly trying to shake off how much this interaction is clearly not going how he planned.

“Show you some respect? Buddy, you don’t know how much of my respect you have. God, I never even told you. I should have told you. You thought-” Dean says, barely coherent, running a hand through his hair, “-you thought you were always the player that could be swept off the board and nobody would care. Well, I care! You son of a bitch!”

Cas stares at him like he can’t understand a word he’s saying, which is fair, he supposes, he’s not making much sense.

How can he be back here again, with all his memories intact?

Dean stares hard at the younger Castiel and the fierceness of his love almost takes his breath away. It doesn’t matter that Cas doesn’t know him yet, it doesn’t matter that he’s still loyal to Heaven right now, it doesn’t even matter that Dean still has no idea how he got back here – none of that matters.

If this is his second chance to do better by Cas, to stop him from dying, or from taking in the Leviathan, from losing his mind helping Sam, being a vessel for Lucifer, making that stupid deal with the Empty… If this is his chance to tell him how much he’s loved, to know how much he’s loved – Dean’ll take it.

Cas’s eyes widen.

Dean doesn’t know if he’s reading his mind or looking at his soul, but whatever Cas sees has him flee in a flurry of wingbeats. Gone.

Even that feels achingly familiar, and Dean has to laugh again, trying to convince himself that the tears he rubs away fiercely with his arm are just from laughing too hard.

If he’s really in the past it means he’s got a second chance to stop the impending apocalypse and keep Sam from the Cage too.

He’s going to have his cake and eat it, dammit.

Besides, it’s already happened once by total accident, and this time Dean knows what he’s doing and what he’s feeling – how hard can it be for Cas to fall for him all over again?

[casdeans-pie]

Cool Time Travellers: (tag list) (let me know if you want on or off!)

(I have a seperate tag list for CoF, so if you want to be on my gen list, let me know <3)

@velvethopewrites ☆ @blue-eyed-cutiepatootie ☆ @fivefeetfangirl ☆ @bogwitchatrois ☆ @dreampencil ☆

@rayraywillis ☆ @famouspsychicpizzabandit ☆ @bondnamesthejames ☆ @markofcastiel

@i--ihavemoney ☆ @meeshsen ☆ @thepagemistress ☆ @spacegoat-ooo ☆

@wheatforme ☆ @lavenderleahy ☆ @malallory

[rayraywillis]

I'm always down to ride, u always take us to the best places! Love all ur work. Count me in anytime. 🤗🤗🫶🫶

[tinytonyy]

My respect goes out to everyone who writes fanfiction. Whether you're crafting epic sagas, filling in missing moments, or just having fun with an AU, it takes so much creativity and dedication to bring those ideas to life.

Writing isn’t easy—finding the right words, keeping the momentum, and sometimes just convincing yourself to start can be a challenge. And yet, fanfic writers do it anyway, pouring love into their stories, expanding worlds, and giving us all something to obsess over.

I’ve even tried writing myself, and let me tell you—it’s hard. I don’t know if I can keep it going, and now I completely understand why there are so many unfinished fics out there. It takes so much effort to see a story through to the end, and honestly? That makes me respect fic writers even more.

So if you write fanfiction—whether you share it or keep it to yourself—just know that it’s appreciated. You’re amazing. Keep writing.

[sapphicambitions]

Cas hangs this up in the cabin ironically and dean pretends to hate it

[starlight-kestrel]

AU where Arthur finds out about the prophecy and pieces together that "his closest ally Emrys" must be Merlin because who else would it be, but incorrectly assumes that Merlin doesn't know and therefore has never practiced magic before.

Even better if he finds out early season 1 so He's just so devastated the entire time and he's just like "I can't believe this, this prophecy is going to turn my best friend into a sorcerer, and it's all my fault for being the once and future king" and Merlin's in the back just murdering a sidhe

[weirdwoodeyes]

simply unbelievable eggplant my mother grew

[hereith]

There are wounds that never show on the body that are deeper and more hurtful than anything that bleeds.

Laurell K. Hamilton / Mistral’s Kiss

[apoemaday]

O Captain! My Captain!

by Walt Whitman

O Captain! my Captain! our fearful trip is done, The ship has weather’d every rack, the prize we sought is won, The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting, While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring; But O heart! heart! heart! O the bleeding drops of red, Where on the deck my Captain lies, Fallen cold and dead.

O Captain! my Captain! rise up and hear the bells; Rise up — for you the flag is flung — for you the bugle trills, For you bouquets and ribbon’d wreaths — for you the shores a-crowding, For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning; Here Captain! dear father! This arm beneath your head! It is some dream that on the deck, You’ve fallen cold and dead.

My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still, My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will, The ship is anchor’d safe and sound, its voyage closed and done, From fearful trip the victor ship comes in with object won; Exult O shores, and ring O bells! But I with mournful tread, Walk the deck my Captain lies, Fallen cold and dead.

[qvotext]

Do you think the universe fights for souls to be together? Some things are too strange and strong to be coincidences.

Emery Allen