#i can build him a stupid Swedish crib!
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I promise you, I will do everything. I will give my life for your son. And I will raise him. And I will make him someone you will be proud of.
#Supernatural#Kelly Kline#Castiel#Jack Kline#canonspngifs#14.08#i can build him a stupid Swedish crib!#prime numbers can be intimidating#i like... cocaine
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Flysta
Gallavich One Shot
Summary: Ian and Mickey assemble IKEA furniture. It goes as well as you think.
My first venture into Gallavich fanfiction. Enjoy!
"Fuck that place man, I'd rather go back to prison than step into that Swedish Shithole ever again."
Ian stared at the back of his husband's neck, which had been tinged red with rage since this morning. If there wasn't a couple feet of unassembled furniture between them he would have kissed the flushed skin.
"Come on, it wasn't that bad." Ian countered, trying to mollify Mickey's quick temper. Mickey turned his head and Ian caught sight of the raised eyebrow that indicated his husband deemed what he said to be the most stupid fucking thing he'd ever heard.
"Motherfucker." Mickey said it as if it was a codeword to a top secret tirade Ian should understand. Ian only smiled and kept the long boxes stable as Mickey climbed the stairs up to their apartment.
"We were in there for three fuckin hours. And you didn't even let me swipe some meatballs!"
"She was a kid-"
"She had like twenty fucking meatballs Ian she wouldn't have missed a few!"
A curious head popped out from behind a door near the stairwell and upon seeing her loud Southside neighbors, rolled her eyes and pulled her head back into her own apartment. Ian held his breath for a split second, but Mickey hadn't noticed the brief audience. If he had Ian would probably have to talk to the building manager...again.
"Between what Kev and V let us take and this shelf we should have no reason to go back there ever again."
"Good. Fuck IKEA."
Arriving at their front door Mickey set down his side of the box and raised his middle finger at the offensive furniture, then put that same middle finger right in Ian'a face.
"And fuck you for forcing me to drive an hour to fucking Schaumburg."
Mickey was only getting louder and while Ian liked him loud and mouthy their neighbors didn't seem to enjoy it as much.
"Alright you big baby, let's get this inside."
Mickey unlocked the front door and picked up his end of the box, backing up and leading Ian into their living room space. It was looking better in here, more full. Kev and V were willing to part with a dresser and most of their kitchen. The crib flashed in Ian's mind for a moment. He hoped Lip remembered to pick it up and take it with him to Tami's parent's place. If Lip doesn't make use of it with his potential second kid maybe Mickey will come around it.
But that's definitely not a conversation for today.
"Why couldn't we just buy one already built?" Mickey asked, pulling a pocket knife out of his sock and stabbing it into the crease of cardboard, slicing cleanly through the tape holding the box together.
"Fuck if I know. Would probably cost more."
Ian pulled out big white slabs of wood along with little baggies of connecting pieces. Mickey grabbed the instructions and flipped through the thin pages making a sound of intrigue and biting his lip.
Ian wondered if the back of his neck was still red, if he could still feel the heat of if he pressed his lips just above Mickey's collar.
"Its just pictures."
Ian, having finished removed the pieces of the shelf from the box, stood and smiled teasingly.
"Wow so even you can read it."
"Fuck you smartass." Mickey drawled, eyes dancing over the instructions. Ian came around behind his grumpy husband to find his neck holding a pink-ish hue and he finally got to plant a kiss on it before he hooked his chin over Mickey's shoulder and stared down at the rudimentary drawings. He only absorbed one or two images before Mickey tossed the instructions across the room.
"Alright lets get building bitch."
-
Mickey was writhing under a strong ginger body, panting heavily against the hand over his mouth. Ian pressed his chest against his husband more forcefully.
"Baby-"
A fist appeared in Ian's peripheral and he managed to pin it down before it collided with his temple. He grunted and wrapped his legs tighter over Mickey's legs, knowing those strong thighs could unseat him if Mickey got smart. Ian's palm was wet with condinced breath and spit as Mickey unleashed his verbal fury into it.
"Mickey, we need to keep it down. Can you just calm down please?"
Mickey, having tossed the instructions aside and just started putting shit together, had cracked a board in half trying to force it into place. The temper tantrum that ensued had Ian fearing to find the police knocking at their door. Mickey could have gotten away with the outburst in the Southside, but on the Westside they were likely to find themselves in violation of their parole any minute.
His husband's burning blue eyes dimmed with resignation and, after a moment of hesitation, he pulled his hand away. Ian stared into those eyes, running his thumb across Mickey's cheek, feeling his jaw go slack under his palm at the gentle soothing motion. Unable to resist the slight part in Mickey's lips Ian leaned in for a kiss that Mickey begrudgingly returned. When they parted Mickey's eyes were rimmed red and watery making Ian's heart ache.
Abruptly the smaller man was pushing Ian off of him and standing, Ian following half a beat behind. He tried to make eye contact but Mickey kept his head down as he collected his jacket and boots.
"Mickey." Ian tried, knowing already it wouldn't keep Mickey here with him. He watched Mickey walk out the front door.
-
The sound of pulling tape roused Ian from sleep. He turned over to find the space next to him in bed as empty as it had been when he laid down. With a groan he rose from the mattress on the floor and walked down the short hallway into the living room where he found Mickey wrapping a roll of duct tape around the piece he had broken hours ago.
"Hey." He offered quietly, a tentative olive branch in the wake of heightened emotions.
"Hey sugartits. Good job on this." Mickey tilted his head toward the completed shelf, which wasn't that hard to assemble once Ian followed the directions. It was only missing the shelf Mickey broke, the shelf Mickey was now mending with duct tape, with a cigarette hanging from his lips. Ian watched Mickey rip the tape off the role, sealing the break as best as he could. Gingerly he placed it into the frame where it instantly began to bow in the middle. The shelf wouldn't be able to hold any weight, but Ian's chest swelled with pride at their finished project and the smile his husband was sending his way.
"Come here."
Mickey's long strides had him in Ian's arms in no time, head cradled in splayed fingers and smiling lips brushing together.
"I think my handyman deserves a handy for all that good work he did." Mickey teased, fingers dipping into the elastic band of Ian's boxers.
"Fuck yeah he does."
The broken shelf was in two again by the next morning, but neither man could be bothered by the imperfection. They made use of what they had built together, imperfections and all.
Also on Ao3!
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Nora, who is nesting and a little out of control because of her hormones and Ray try to build the nursery, but our sweetest scientist is too clumsy to actually build it and they build it together?
Yarn over, pull through. Yarn over, pull through. Yarn over, pull through. Dammit why wasn’t this working. Nora sighed and played back the instructional video on what should be a ‘Super Easy Baby Blanket’ tutorial only to find she’d been missing a crucial step the entire time. Nora felt tears prick at her eyes and she gathered up the skein of yarn, her failed project with the hook still attached, and threw it against the wall of the nursery, nearly hitting Ray as he walked in.
“Hey... what’s wrong?” Ray immediately went to her and dropped to his knees. He looked back to see what she had thrown and took her hands in his. “The tutorial frustrating you again?”
Nora nodded. “Tori will be cold and we won’t have a blanket for her and she’ll get hypothermia and I’ll just...”
“She will not get hypothermia. Gary already crocheted her a blanket, remember?” He gestured to the pink, purple, and blue blanket folded up in a corner with bedding they needed to put on the crib... that wasn’t even put together yet.
“But her own stupid mom can’t even make her a blanket to keep her warm! What kind of mother am I?” Nora reached for a tissue and blew her nose and wiped her eyes. “I’m already a fuck up of a mom!”
Ray shook his head. “Hey now, no absolutely not. You’re going to be a wonderful mom. Your ability or inability to crochet her a blanket does not dictate your overall parenting abilities. The fact that you love her enough to want to make her something to keep her warm means you’re gonna be an amazing mom.” He kissed her forehead. “I’m gonna put the crib together and I want you to take a deep breath, maybe go lay down for a little bit, and video chat with Gary so he can help you if you wanna try the blanket again. I’m sure he’d be happy to help.”
Nora sucked in a shaky breath and nodded. “Will you help me up? I’m too big.” Her lip wobbled. “I can’t even be your sexy pregnant soon-to-be MILF, I’m such a--.”
Ray helped to pull her out of the rocking chair Sara and Ava had gifted them. “Sexy pregnant soon-to-be MILF. But you’re already someone I’d love to...” Nora cut him off with a kiss and cracked a smile even through her teary expression.
“You’re too sweet to me, Ray Palmer.” She squeezed his hands. “I love you. I’m gonna go take a nap, good luck with the crib.”
“Hopefully when you wake up, our daughter will finally have a place to sleep.”
“Well she’s still gonna be sleeping here for the next six weeks so don’t put too much pressure on yourself.” She ran a hand over her swollen belly and smiled. “Alright, I’m off to take a nap.” She pecked his lips once more. “I love you.”
“I love you too.” He smiled and watched her leave. Ray pulled out the box that contained the crib pieces and pulled out the instruction manual. Surely for a man with four PhD’s this couldn’t be too difficult?
xxxx
A man with four PhDs, none of them in Swedish, sat among the pile of cherry red wooden crib pieces red faced with frustration.
Who in the world made this instruction manual? He’d also gotten about five splinters in the hour and a half he’d attempted to put together his daughter’s crib. Guess Tori was going to have to sleep in a cardboard box!
No.
His daughter would sleep in a crib. Ray sighed and tried to reorganize the pieces by size, not by what the instruction manual told him to. The puzzle that was his daughter’s crib didn’t become any clearer.
“Need some help, Dr. Palmer?” The bright smile of his wife greeted him. She looked refreshed, well rested, happy.
“Hey...” He smiled up at her. “How was your nap?”
“Great, now you look like the one that needs a nap.” She smiled only slightly sympathetically and tried to hide her laugh.
Ray shook his head and tossed the instruction manual behind him. “None of these instructions make sense.”
“Did you try a Youtube tutorial?”
“All of them were in Swedish.” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “I wanted to have this done for you.”
Nora crouched to meet his eye level. “It’s too bad you don’t have a wife with magic who can wave her hand put it all together perfectly.” She sighed and pursed her lips.
Ray let out a small laugh. “Are you okay with that? I really wanted to do this for us... to show how much I want this.”
Nora sat down across from him, wood piles between them and took his hand. “Ray,” she couldn’t help her grin as she placed her free hand on her belly. “I think the fact that you were okay with us trying to start a family even before we got married and you were totally okay with me finding out I was pregnant right after we got home from the honeymoon and you’ve been present physically and mentally with me every day since, shows me how much you want this. Every time I wake up and you’re talking to her and you’re excited and you’re telling her how loved she’s going to be, I know that you want this. I never felt so loved and so wanted until I met you and I know that our daughter is just as loved and wanted and we haven’t even met her yet.”
Ray tangled their fingers together. “I just want to be a good dad. What kind of parent can’t put together the place where their child is going to sleep?”
“The same kind of parent who struggles to crochet their child a baby blanket to sleep in?” Nora cocked an eyebrow.
Ray was quiet for a moment, understanding the point she was trying to make. “That’s fair. I understand. So, what, I crochet her a blanket and you magically put together her crib?”
Nora laughed and shook her head. “Whatever you wanna do, babe. If it’s important to you that you put this together without magic and by yourself, I’ll let you. I promise. But I just want you to know you’re going to be an amazing father regardless.”
Ray pushed the wood piles out of the way and pulled Nora into his lap. “What if we tried to put it together, together?”
“Well seeing as it took two of us to make the human that’s going to sleep in it, I think that’s a great idea.” She grinned and kissed him softly. “And maybe after we can go to the bookstore and use the giftcards Mona and Gary got us to buy her more books?” She smiled up at him cheekily.
Ray glanced behind Nora to the growing stack of books next to the dark cherry wood chest of drawers they had for their daughter that would match the crib they were eventually going to build and shook his head, smiling. “I think we should put together her bookshelf first before we get her anymore books.”
“But I want her bookshelf to be full.” Nora pouted.
“It’ll be overfull if I let you step foot into a bookstore for her again.” He tickled her sides.
“That’s not true, Raymond Carson Palmer, and you know it!”
“It is true, Nora Anne Palmer, and you know it!” He tickled her sides again.
Nora squealed and elbowed him playfully. “Please I just want our daughter to be well-read!”
“Mmmhmm okay.” He kissed her softly and ceased tickling her. “Crib then bookstore.”
Nora threw her arms around Ray’s neck and kissed him. “You’ve got yourself a deal mister.”
They managed to put together the crib with no magic, even got the bedding on the mattress then went to the bookstore where Ray and Nora walked out with so many books, Ray knew they were going to need a second bookshelf. But he didn’t care, because it was for his daughter, and he’d do anything for his daughter and the woman carrying her.
#darhkatom#ray palmer#nora darhk#ask#prompt#legends of tomorrow#fanfic#mine#for noelle#i love you enjoy
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12.22:
Mary: It's not okay. Since I've been back, I know... I've been distant. Cold, even. Leaving you, working with them.. I was trying to make things right. Just from a distance, because.. being here with you was too hard. Seeing what I'd done to you and to Sam, I... Dean: Mom, what you did, the deal... everything that's happened since has made us who we are. And who we are? We kick ass. We save the world.
14.13:
SAM: Did you see them at dinner, the way they looked at each other? They just seemed happy, you know? It doesn’t feel fair to get all this and have to throw it away, and I know we have to. But it just feels like, you know… Once we send Dad back… it’s none of this ever happened. He – he just goes back to – to… to being Dad. DEAN: You saying you wish things would be different? SAM: Don’t you? Can you imagine – dad in the past, knowing then what he knows now? I… I think it would be nice. DEAN: Yeah. I used to think that, too. But, uh… I mean, look, we’ve been through some tough times. There’s no denying that. SAM: Yeah. DEAN: And for the longest time, I blamed Dad. I mean, hell, I blamed Mom, too, you know? I was angry. But say we could send Dad back knowing everything. Why stop there? Why not send him even further back and let some other poor sons of bitches save the world? But here’s the problem. Who does that make us? Would we be better off? Well, maybe. But I gotta be honest – I don’t know who that Dean Winchester is. And I’m good with who I am. I’m good with who you are. ‘Cause our lives – they’re ours. And maybe I’m just too damn old to want to change that.
but also:
12.23:
KELLY: God, please. I need help. SVEN [on phone]: I'm trying to help you, ma'am. KELLY: Are you, Sven? Because if you ask me if I have the quarter-inch Allen wrench one – one more time, I am going to come down there and burn your giant Viking junkyard of a store to the ground! Do you understand?! SVEN: Are you sure it wasn't in the box? KELLY: God! [she tosses the phone away in exasperation] CASTIEL: Kelly. I told you I'd put this together. I'm very good at following instructions. And you need to rest. KELLY: No, I don't. CASTIEL: Kelly – [Cas helps Kelly to her feet] KELLY: No, Cas, I don't. I can't. I don't know how long until... I don't know how long I have left. And I...I'm never gonna be able to teach him how to ride a bike or watch him get married or even look him in the eyes. But I can build him a stupid Swedish crib! I can do that. CASTIEL: Kelly, I know how hard this is. [Kelly gives Cas an incredulous look] That's a lie. I have no idea how hard this is for you. But I promise you... I will do everything. I will give my life for your son. And I will raise him. And I will make him someone you will be proud of.
(note that all their work on the nursery, all their preparations for Jack’s birth, building the crib and assuming they’d have a long road of raising a Smol Babby proved... to be a lie... everything they did was... pointless... in the end)
and 14.20:
JACK: You lied to me. CASTIEL: Jack. JACK: (yelling) You lied!
and
SAM: Well, it's like you said. (Chuckles) It's Celine Dion. Uh... I mean Celine Dion. It's Celi-- (Sam stammers) Dean, every time I try and say "Elvis," it comes out -- DEAN: The sad, horrible truth. Yeah. You know why? Because we can't lie.
and
MRS. KLINE: You lied to us. You said you worked with Kelly, but after you left, my husband and I, we made some calls, and no one knows who you are. JACK: I... I didn't. MRS. KLINE: Yes, you did. Kelly's not away on some "secret mission." She... (Crying) They think she's dead. What did you do to my daughter?! (yelling) What did you do?!
and
DEAN: (looking at his phone) When people can't lie, the Internet gets real quiet.
and
WORKER #7 (in a singsong voice) I hate everyone! I hate everyone! WORKER #5 (crying) I just want to be loved. WORKER #7: I hate everyone! I hate everyone! OFF SCREEN: I just want a sweet life. WORKERS #7: I hate everyone! (Chuck and Castiel are watching the chaos) CHUCK: see, this is why people need to lie. -I hate everyone! CHUCK: It's good. Keeps the peace, you know?
and
CASTIEL: Seems like an odd stance for...you. CHUCK: Is it? I'm a writer. Lying's kind of what we do.
and
(Woman speaking Chinese dialect)- The state is a lie.
and
CAS: Can you fix it? CHUCK: (Sighs) Fine. (Snaps fingers) Fixed. SAM: Really? CHUCK: I'm God, Sam. Yeah, really. Go ahead. Try it out. DEAN:: Celine Dion rocks. Yeah. Yeah, we can lie again. CAS: And the rioting? CHUCK: Like it never happened.
and
CHUCK: Listen, you guys know me. I'm hands-off. I built the sandbox -- you play in it. You want to fight Leviathans? Cool. You got that. You want to go up against -- what was it? -- the "British Men of Letters"? Okay. Little weak, but okay. But when things get really bad, like the Apocalypse or the Other Apocalypse, that's when I have to step in. SAM: So you're saying Jack is Apocalyptic? CHUCK: The kid said, "Stop lying," and I don't know if you noticed, but the world kinda went insane.
and
SAM: So, Michael said that you create these worlds and you just toss them away like failed versions of some book. CHUCK: And you believe him? SAM: Was he lying? Is that what you're doing to us? CHUCK: No. Sam... you and your brother, of all the Sams and Deans in all the multiverse, you're my favorite. You're just so interesting. I mean, like that thing that happened at the office earlier today -- that was crazy, right?
and
JACK: And I thought I could make the world a better place if people couldn't lie. CAS: Well, it didn't. JACK: It really didn't.
and
SAM: Wait. I thought Chuck said that the gun was the only thing that could... (indicating Jack, who is dead on the ground, eyes burned out) CAS: He's a writer. Writers lie.
and
youtube
BUT ALSO!
12.23:
SAM: Crowley...why did you do it? Save Lucifer– What did you want? CROWLEY: I wanted to win. I perverted mother's spell, put Lucifer in a vessel of my own making because I wanted to win. You have any idea how many people have made a play for my throne over the years? Lucifer, Abaddon, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah. Too damn many. I thought if I could put the Devil on a leash... my own personal nuke, no one would ever dare challenge me again. DEAN: Yeah. That worked out great. CROWLEY: All ended with me narrowly escaping death by hiding in a rat. MARY: Wait. In an...actual rat? CROWLEY: Wasn't too bad, really. Gave me time to think. You know, I've been focused for so long on keeping my job. Never realized I hate it. All those whining demons, the endless moan of damned souls, the paperwork! I mean, who wants that?
and
LUCIFER: Well... this is a fun surprise. I gotta hand it to you guys. You never give up, even when you should. Even when it would be so stupid not to. SAM: Look, whatever you're planning on doing, Chuck...God will stop you, just like he did last time. LUCIFER: You're right. What should I do? Oh, God! Don't strike me dead! Come on, Sam. You sound like a virgin in Jesus camp. "We can't. God is watching." No. Chuck "walked." He's gone. DEAN: So you're just gonna smash his toys? LUCIFER: Exactly. 'Cause every time I look at this sad trash fire of a world, you know what I keep thinking? I could do so much better. DEAN: So Apocalypse, take two. That's your plan? LUCIFER: When in doubt, go with the classics. That's what I always say. Well, boys, enough with the foreplay. Let's do this.
14.20
SAM: Do you watch us? When you're not here, are -- are you... watching us? CHUCK: Yeah. (Exhales deeply) I mean, you're my favorite show. SAM: Then why don't you do something? If I had your power -- CHUCK: Sam. We talked about this. Not the way it works. SAM: (Sighs) Wait a second. Why, when the chips are down, when the world is -- is failing, why does it always have to be on us?! CHUCK: Because you're my guys. But right now, we need to focus on Jack. Ah, that kid. (Breathes deeply) Whew! SAM: Wait a second. You're scared of him. CHUCK: Aren't you?
and
JACK: And you were right all along. I am a monster. SAM: (to Chuck) Do something. (he realizes with shock) You're enjoying this. CHUCK: Shh. (Dramatic music plays) (Dean cocks the gun. He looks Jack in the eye for several seconds and then slowly lowers the gun. At this point, Castiel also comes running towards the area) (Dean uncocks the gun and tosses it to the side) CHUCK: No. Pick it up! Pick it up. DEAN: The hell, Chuck? CHUCK: This isn't how the story is supposed to end. CAS: The story? CHUCK: (frustrated) Lookit, the -- the -- the gathering storm, the gun, the -- the father killing his own son. This is Abraham and Isaac. This is epic! DEAN: Wait. What are you saying? SAM: He's saying he's been playing us. This whole time. CHUCK: Come on. SAM: Our entire lives. Mom, Dad -- everything. This is all you because you wrote it all, right? Because -- Because what? Because we're your favorite show? Because we're part of your story?
(because in the end Crowley’s spell did nothing, Cas’s self-sacrifice meant nothing, Lucifer’s destruction meant nothing because Michael wrought the same destruction as they were both trapped inside the same story and couldn’t even recognize themselves as Chuck’s characters who were just as “programmed” by Chuck as any of the angels who’d ever been subjected to Naomi’s reprogramming ever were... I mean they may have been partly right about Chuck, but they were still blind to the fact that even in their supposed “rebellion” they were always only ever Chuck’s pawns, enacting his favorite narrative for all time and unable to break free of it)
And the universe takes everything away from Sam and Dean again, and the beginning of another go-around of the narrative. Only this is the last go-around where Cas can be treated as someone that can be taken away from them and still continue to perform according to Chuck’s expectations within his story. This loss broke Dean. And Cas might not understand that yet, but it proved to the audience that Cas is integral to the Winchester Family. Chuck’s story can’t only revolve around Sam and Dean against the world. And by the end of 14.20, at least he’s learned that.
#spn 14.20#spn 12.23#spiders georg of the tnt loop#lies and damn lies#winchester family dynamics#if you say 'mysterious ways' so help me i will kick your ass#s14 meta rewatch#i'm casually enjoying the destruction of the entire got universe on the side here over a struggle for power in which everyone loses#it's almost as if crowley embodied that in his final episode but became self-aware and did the thing...#if only he'd lived to have this final curtain lifted revealing the full truth of the universe and his place in it#as just another character in chuck's story...#the scheherazade of supernatural#if anyone thinks this show is just a bunch of lazy writing i will throw down right here and fight them
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#Supernatural#Jack Kline#Kelly Kline#canonspngifs#14.08#i like... cocaine#i can build him a stupid Swedish crib!
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Supernatural Women's Meme | Eight Episodes (1 of 8)
#Supernatural#spnwmeme#14.08#Naomi#Kelly Kline#Lily Sunder#Dumah#forgive me for taking a few years to put my thoughts back in my skull#i can build him a stupid Swedish crib!#your little angel tricks won't work on me#couples issues aren't my area
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Kelly & Jack + Fleetwood Mac, Temporary One
#Supernatural#Kelly Kline#Jack Kline#Fleetwood Mac#driver picks the music#i can build him a stupid Swedish crib!#i like... cocaine
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You're in Heaven. You're in your memories. Your best, best memories. Because...
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I don't understand. You were just a baby.
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12.23 All Along the Watchtower
I love you.
#Supernatural#Mary Winchester#Kelly Kline#Sam Winchester#Dean Winchester#12.23#i am not just a mom#i can build him a stupid Swedish crib!#i lost my shoe#i think i'm adorable#having you here... fills in the biggest blank#do not give me the face
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Ladies of Byzantium + Sailing to Byzantium by William Butler Yeats
Once out of nature I shall never take My bodily form from any natural thing, But such a form as Grecian goldsmiths make Of hammered gold and gold enamelling To keep a drowsy Emperor awake; Or set upon a golden bough to sing To lords and ladies of Byzantium Of what is past, or passing, or to come.
#Supernatural#Lily Sunder#Dumah#Naomi#Kelly Kline#Byzantium#14.08#your little angel tricks won't work on me#couples issues aren't my area#forgive me for taking a few years to put my thoughts back in my skull#i can build him a stupid Swedish crib!
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Our Ladies of Byzantium
#what an EPIC episode#Supernatural#14.08#Lily Sunder#Kelly Kline#Dumah#Naomi#your little angel tricks won't work on me#i can build him a stupid Swedish crib!#couples issues aren't my area#forgive me for taking a few years to put my thoughts back in my skull
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Kelly Kline | 14.08 Byzantium
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Femslash February | Day 5: Favorite ship with an antagonist(s)
Dagon x Kelly Kline
#SPN Femslash February#Supernatural#Dagon#Kelly Kline#femslash#Spn femslash#Supernatural femslash#do you need a pillow or... whatever?#i can build him a stupid Swedish crib!#12.13
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Kelly Kline in 12.08 LOTUS (2 of 2)
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Kelly Kline in 12.08 LOTUS (1 of 2)
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