“Veiling is about humility, modesty, and reverence for the Lord. There are many reasons to do it. I’ve heard stories of Catholic women being treated differently by friends and family for being traditional and it’s really sad. One time at daily Mass this summer, I saw a little girl and her mother wearing mantillas. I thought it was beautiful. I thought, ‘That’ll be my daughter and me’. After Mass, I told her that I liked her veil and she just giggled and smiled. It was a nice moment.”

- Quote by me

“I usually go to Confession and Mass on Saturdays, back to back, but sometimes I go to Mass on Sundays and go to Confession while I’m out and about on a Saturday afternoon. Even if I’m only going to be at church for a few minutes, I bring my mantilla with me.”

- Quote by me

“As a Protestant convert, I can say that tradition really drew me to the Catholic Church.”

- Quote by me

Why do American Christians:

  • adore and worship Mary for her modesty and virginity,
  • act fascinated by the religious habit of nuns, and seek to sexualize it
  • applaud a resurgence in the fashion and obedience to the word of their God when women wear kerchiefs and chapel veils during mass… 

but, Muslim American women and men observing hijab are anti-American terrorists because of it?

Please, explain. I’ll wait.

Words: 3,189
Cas x Reader (Future!Cas)
Warnings: language
Summary: Y/N awakens in the middle of the night and feels a magnetic pull leading her out of the complex, and into a storm. Someone is drawing her there.
A/N: This is the 5th part of a series! Read the other parts first! (1 2 3 4)

Your name: submit What is this?

You awoke suddenly and inexplicably in the middle of the night. With an abrupt gasp of breath, you were awake. Days had passed since your foray into the hot zone in search of your old journal, but your head still ached. As you sat up, you gingerly laid a hand over the spot where your head had collided with the ground.

Cas’ eyes swam in your mind and you shut your own tightly against them uselessly. The yearning ache in your chest wasn’t something you could shut out either. How you wanted to be home with him, your Cas, in your time. The one who could always sense when you were the slightest bit upset or uncomfortable and who was instantly there to do whatever he could to make it better. Your eyelids felt heavy as you thought of how he laid with you all night, letting you sleep securely snuggled against him, his arm wrapped around you and one hand resting on your arm or your shoulder or your hip, tucking you in against him, protectively surrounding you. You fit together like two puzzle pieces, all the curves and angles locking together, not meant to be separated.

”Often when I lay here with you, I feel like I recover my faith,” Cas had said. You had tilted your chin up so you could look into his face.

”What do you mean?” you had whispered back.

He looked down at you and there was a smile in his eyes, the corners crinkled with fondness as he examined the slope of your nose and the curves of your cheekbones. “When I’m with you…I think God must still be around. Somewhere. Because he’s given me a gift I don’t deserve. It’s the only explanation for you being here with me,” and he settled more deeply into the soft mattress and pillow, and hugged you even tighter to him.

You rubbed hard at your tightly shut eyes, as if that would force the memories out of your mind. Lingering on what this future didn’t have wasn’t going to help you get back to your true time, and back to that. But now you did begin to wonder how long you had been gone… It had been near a week at least here, but you wondered if that translated to the same amount of time in the past. Was Cas beside himself looking for you, thinking you were missing? Snatched from right next to him in the middle of the night… inexplicably gone… What if he was taking risks, putting himself in danger to find you…

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