KATYA, 33. My blog is a mess.

Все люди как люди, а я - Королевна!

livia-carica:

qthewetsprocket:

tinaalsgirl:

Cat’s in the Cradle (House, BBC Sherlock, Fortysomething) (by daasgrrl)

OMG, this is fucking amazing!

Awww, sweet. :) 

This is very, very clever… 

I have no words… It’s brilliant!!!

SPN_SH_Loss by mad-samurai
Not alone…
by uuuhshiny
Thanks to cakeisnotpie for being my lovely BETA!!! She is Amazing!
Raiting: PG
Crossover: Sherlock BBC/Supernatural
Pairing: No pairing
Characters: John Watson and Dean Winchester
Word count: 880 (drabble)
Complete: Yes
 
Cemeteries are strange places. Points of crossing over… Places where the walls between realities are thinner, almost transparent, to have a quick look, a tiny glance to the other side, to what could have been or what will never be… 
Two men came to cemeteries (two different ones in time and in place), men with their own worlds behind them, men that could not possibly meet anywhere else. Except for this very moment when God, Powers That Be, Fate or call it that ever you want opened the small door between their worlds for a purpose yet unknown…
***
At first John pays no attention to this young man standing not far away. Just another man with his loss and grief. God knows, John has it all enough for himself. But this tall man is just standing there, not near any grave and with firm determination all around him, so rare in grief, to make John take another look. 
The stranger is wearing a shabby looking leather jacket, which has seen better days, well… in eighties at best. The man is young except for his eyes. John knows how it is… He sees a warrior, a soldier (it takes one to see one). He feels they have that in common: battles to fight, people to save, friends to lose. Friends like Sh… No, no, no, he still believes, wishes, hopes that his “colleague”, his brilliant, extraordinary, amazing friend will find the way NOT.TO BE.DEAD. Somehow, against all odds… 
He needs to believe, otherwise it’s just him… again, and he’s afraid that may be this time he won’t be able to cope. So he looks at the stranger, desperately needing this man’s resolve and strength to carry on. Their eyes meet, green to blue, young to ripe, death in both… 
And he sees it, sheer determination enough for both of them, he absorbs it, feeling this man’s strength. He sees that they are the same, they fought, they lost, they grieve… Seconds pass, John straightens, salutes the stranger, thanking him, and walks away to another day, another battle…
***
Dean visits this place once in a while, when the job is near, and time is right. He tells himself, he is doing it to make sure the Gate is still closed and the railway Pentagram is intact… But really he knows why. Why he searches for jobs nearby, why he makes a detour every time he is around Wyoming, why he lies to Sammy about being with some random girl… But no more excuses, today he knows exactly why he is here, at this cemetery. The place where he saw his father for the last time.  
His father, who has no grave, not here, not anywhere. Dean thinks that maybe Sam was right about their mother’s empty grave, as a place to come to talk, to remember, to grieve. Perhaps he should do the same to his father later, at this God forsaken cemetery in the middle of nowhere. Because strangely here he feels closer to his father than anywhere else. But then he remembers that there is no “later”. Not for him anyway, not after Detroit, not after Sammy saying Yes… 
He knows that this is his last time here and the main reason for the hell of a detour from Detroit to Lawrence is to say good bye to his father. 
He never believed in words so he just stands there in the cold wind, remembering his father, thanking him for making him what he is now, giving him enough resolve to make a decision he has to and to bear what will come…
It is almost time to go when Dean notices a strange man, standing near a grave. The vision is a bit blurry and too bright for the cloudy evening in Wyoming so his senses begin to tingle a little. A ghost? Dean decides to take another look. 
Well, the man in his mid-forties is military, that’s for sure. The way he stands, the way he looks. He also has this sense of reality, like grounded, down to earth feel all around him. Not a ghost then… Their eyes meet, Dean sees grief, plea, pain, loss, loneliness – feelings that seem so very natural at the cemeteries, he’s seen them a lot to recognize. But there is also something else, like … hope? Grave yards are very strange place for hope… But then again, he thinks, you seem to find it in odd places when you need it. And God knows, he needs it now. And if this man, standing on the grave of someone he clearly loves, has it than may be, just may be against all these incredible, unbelievable odds he still can have it too, a tiny bit of hope… 
The man straightens, salutes as if thanking (thanking him?) and walks away. The vision blurs more and disappears… Dean stands a little while longer, making sure that everything is back to normal, and starts to the Impala. After all he has very important meeting in Lawrence to attend to…

SPN_SH_Loss by mad-samurai

Not alone…

by uuuhshiny

Thanks to cakeisnotpie for being my lovely BETA!!! She is Amazing!

Raiting: PG

Crossover: Sherlock BBC/Supernatural

Pairing: No pairing

Characters: John Watson and Dean Winchester

Word count: 880 (drabble)

Complete: Yes

 

Cemeteries are strange places. Points of crossing over… Places where the walls between realities are thinner, almost transparent, to have a quick look, a tiny glance to the other side, to what could have been or what will never be…

Two men came to cemeteries (two different ones in time and in place), men with their own worlds behind them, men that could not possibly meet anywhere else. Except for this very moment when God, Powers That Be, Fate or call it that ever you want opened the small door between their worlds for a purpose yet unknown…

***

At first John pays no attention to this young man standing not far away. Just another man with his loss and grief. God knows, John has it all enough for himself. But this tall man is just standing there, not near any grave and with firm determination all around him, so rare in grief, to make John take another look.

The stranger is wearing a shabby looking leather jacket, which has seen better days, well… in eighties at best. The man is young except for his eyes. John knows how it is… He sees a warrior, a soldier (it takes one to see one). He feels they have that in common: battles to fight, people to save, friends to lose. Friends like Sh… No, no, no, he still believes, wishes, hopes that his “colleague”, his brilliant, extraordinary, amazing friend will find the way NOT.TO BE.DEAD. Somehow, against all odds…

He needs to believe, otherwise it’s just him… again, and he’s afraid that may be this time he won’t be able to cope. So he looks at the stranger, desperately needing this man’s resolve and strength to carry on. Their eyes meet, green to blue, young to ripe, death in both…

And he sees it, sheer determination enough for both of them, he absorbs it, feeling this man’s strength. He sees that they are the same, they fought, they lost, they grieve… Seconds pass, John straightens, salutes the stranger, thanking him, and walks away to another day, another battle…

***

Dean visits this place once in a while, when the job is near, and time is right. He tells himself, he is doing it to make sure the Gate is still closed and the railway Pentagram is intact… But really he knows why. Why he searches for jobs nearby, why he makes a detour every time he is around Wyoming, why he lies to Sammy about being with some random girl… But no more excuses, today he knows exactly why he is here, at this cemetery. The place where he saw his father for the last time. 

His father, who has no grave, not here, not anywhere. Dean thinks that maybe Sam was right about their mother’s empty grave, as a place to come to talk, to remember, to grieve. Perhaps he should do the same to his father later, at this God forsaken cemetery in the middle of nowhere. Because strangely here he feels closer to his father than anywhere else. But then he remembers that there is no “later”. Not for him anyway, not after Detroit, not after Sammy saying Yes…

He knows that this is his last time here and the main reason for the hell of a detour from Detroit to Lawrence is to say good bye to his father.

He never believed in words so he just stands there in the cold wind, remembering his father, thanking him for making him what he is now, giving him enough resolve to make a decision he has to and to bear what will come…

It is almost time to go when Dean notices a strange man, standing near a grave. The vision is a bit blurry and too bright for the cloudy evening in Wyoming so his senses begin to tingle a little. A ghost? Dean decides to take another look.

Well, the man in his mid-forties is military, that’s for sure. The way he stands, the way he looks. He also has this sense of reality, like grounded, down to earth feel all around him. Not a ghost then… Their eyes meet, Dean sees grief, plea, pain, loss, loneliness – feelings that seem so very natural at the cemeteries, he’s seen them a lot to recognize. But there is also something else, like … hope? Grave yards are very strange place for hope… But then again, he thinks, you seem to find it in odd places when you need it. And God knows, he needs it now. And if this man, standing on the grave of someone he clearly loves, has it than may be, just may be against all these incredible, unbelievable odds he still can have it too, a tiny bit of hope…

The man straightens, salutes as if thanking (thanking him?) and walks away. The vision blurs more and disappears… Dean stands a little while longer, making sure that everything is back to normal, and starts to the Impala. After all he has very important meeting in Lawrence to attend to…

frickangel:

Come on! I’m sure someone other than me went “OH MY GAWD! SHERLOCK IS USING PSYCHIC PAPER!!”

MY.GOD.YES!!!

frickangel:

Come on! I’m sure someone other than me went “OH MY GAWD! SHERLOCK IS USING PSYCHIC PAPER!!”

MY.GOD.YES!!!