Someone pointed out to me that the writers did something very special with Castiel, and the mythology surrounding him. So here you have it:

Castiel is known as the angel of solitude, tears, and temperance. He is the angel that is known for simply watching the events of the cosmos unfold with little interference. In mythology that is.

But in Supernatural, Castiel, Angel of the Lord could not be more different.

Castiel is the angel of solitude, that no longer wants solitude. Because he learned from humanity that solitude often leads to despair, that solitude was not the answer, even though he too tends to push people away. That family doesn’t end in blood and it doesn’t begin that way either, he is different because he longs for a home as much as his home longs for him. 

Castiel is the angel of tears, who sheds them more often than any celestial being should. He was the angel who would comfort YOU when in tears, not need to be comforted himself, but that all changed the moment he got too close to his charge(s).

Castiel is the angel of temperance, who despite everything drank an entire liquor store to attempt and forget his woes and his loss of faith. An angel who drank to forget his holy father wasn’t around if only for a few hours time. 

Castiel is among the few angels who does not intervene in the events of the cosmos, but by following one mission, to save a Righteous Man, Castiel began to intervene more than any other angel. He tore up the script, he fell countless times to protect what he believed in, who he believed in. He took the word of God, heaven’s orders, and all divine purpose and threw it away because of two boys. 

Castiel, is different and that is good. He has too much heart, limited people skills, and a love for humanity that is only matched with his love for the Winchesters.

saintlavellan asked:

10 with shenko :)

10. The Last Kiss (um ouch)

The tremor that rocked the Normandy was too strong for it to be good news. Sure, occasionally they hit rough patches or needed to divert course quickly, causing people to wobble over. But this, this was a collision.

Shepard sat up in bed and shook Kaidan, fast asleep next to her. He groaned and rolled over, but when the sirens throughout the cabin started echoing loudly, he sat up too, rubbing his eyes.

“What’s happening?” he grumbled.

“Something’s wrong,” she said, pulling on the under armor she wore below her armor set, and shoved him out of bed. “Get up!”

“Shepard, relax! It could be just a malfunction. Joker hasn’t told us anything.”

Shepard pressed a finger to her ear, radioing into Joker. “Joker, what’s going on up there?”

She waited a moment for the crackled response to come through. “Commander, we’re taking fire!”

“Affirmative. Prep the ship for evac, now!”

Shepard turned to Kaidan. “Suit up and I’m putting you in charge of getting the crew into escape pods.”

“Shepard, wait!” he said.

“Kaidan, do as I say. Get in your damn armor and get the crew off the ship. I’m going to signal the distress beacon to get the Alliance in for a pickup. Go!”

She pulled her greaves on and strapped them to her legs, and took the chest piece and gauntlets as she bolted from the room. Kaidan reached out a hand and curled his fingers around her wrist, pulling her back to him.

“Kaidan, we have to-,” she started, but immediately noticed the panic in his eyes. “We need to get off this ship. Otherwise we’re all dead. You know that.”

He nodded. “I know. Just… be careful. I’ll get everyone into the pods. Just - you - please… be careful, for me.”

She leaned forward and placed her lips against his, her hands cupping the side of his face. He grabbed at the fabric of her shirt and didn’t want to let go. She knew the chances of them getting separated, on different escape pods, not knowing the other’s fate was likely, but it was better than losing one another for good. But until they were together again, she’d remember the taste of his lips and the gentle touch of his hands on her body, and eagerly await the chance to be with him again.

“Shepard, I -,” he started.

“Kaidan, I’m going to come right back to you, I promise. I’ll find you and everything will be okay. I’m going to come back to you,” she said. “And you can tell me everything then. Okay?”

He nodded. “Okay.”

And she exited the cabin into the flames that ravaged the Normandy.

ratheralark replied to your post:ratheralark replied to your chat:me: like at a…

oh, absolutely a combination. also THOSE TAGS. A+.

Pfft he would though 

and be very Jerk about how he arranged everyone

Being uncomfortable is not the same as being triggered.  There are things in life and media that are supposed to make you uncomfortable.  If they didn’t, YOU WOULDN’T KNOW THOSE THINGS WERE SUPPOSED TO BE BAD.  Sometimes an event in a storyline is upsetting and hard to watch–GOOD.  Then it’s doing its fucking job getting through to your humanity.

Not agreeing with something is not the same as being triggered.  I’m not even going to fucking explain this one.

Disliking something is not the same as being triggered.  See above.


Stop appropriating and abusing a legitimate psychological concern just to use as a shield in your personal crusade to sanitize the world of anything that you don’t personally enjoy.  You’re just making it that much fucking harder for people who actually DO have PTSD to be taken seriously.  You’re also trivializing the fuck out of very serious issues by not knowing when to pick your goddamn battles.

Why I Need Men To Chill The Fuck Out With Street Harassment.

Riding my bike to work, late at night these boys I passed said something stupid. So I said “screw off” 

and one of them said “OH DAMN! THAT’S A GIRL! HONEY YOU SHOULD BE NICER! How you know I wasn’t trying to get with it.” 

I stopped, turned around and rode back to them. They got excited, started grabbing their crotch and shit. (why do men do that? are they making sure it’s still there??)

And I said. “First of all, never gonna happen. Second of all, your walking somewhere after 9 pm. I’m going to assume your life prospects aren’t that great. And LAST of all, women in general don’t exactly ENJOY being cat called. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go to work.”

As I rode off all I could hear was one saying to the other “Bruh. Bruh, that was sick.”


One hot summer day I decided that since it was so hot I was gonna wear a spaghetti strap shirt under my work shirt so I could be a little cooler on the way home.

I wasn’t even a block from work at this grizzly old man was watching me, and whistled. 


Not a even a block later I turned a corner and saw a car turn the same corner …. weirdly close to me. So, because I know people are jackasses, I pulled off to the side to let this asshole through. (Because I ain’t up for the whole “My obit is gonna be ‘Got Splattered By Asshole Driver’ shit.)

I’m on the curb, riding, frustrated, and this asshole stops his car and ASKS ME IF I WANT A RIDE.

I stop, level my best death glare and said. “No, I’m fine thanks.” And rode off. (It should be noted I took several detours and had 911 up on my celly in case he tried to fucking FOLLOW ME.)

Like, prossies don’t advertise via riding bicycles through residential areas. The shirt wasn’t even that revealing. AND FUCK YOU ALL IT WAS HOT OUTSIDE! JEEBUS!

One foggy morning I was walking home and saw a guy on the sidewalk down the way, and decided that I wanted to avoid him, so I crossed the street.

HE FOLLOWED ME! ALMOST RAN INTO ME, and said “foggy huh” so close to be he almost got an elbow to the center of his chest. I was practically sprinting away, dialling 911, and was ready to press send the moment he touched me. (Cause I’m not HIP to being a corpse that they find in the ditch after the fog lifts.)  When suddenly a car pulled a U turn so sharp it was almost a V turn.

My co-worker apparently saw him make a beeline from the intersection and said “oh HELL no.” and decided to save my ass from creepy mccreeperson.


So yes, men of the world, yall need to chill the fuck out with the street harassment.