Should I be disturbed by this?

Or rather, should I be disturbed that I'm not disturbed by the fact that out of 10, I could only understand one thing, that is

8. Crying can be fun.

From i_o_r_h_a_e_l's post here.

I just don't get the rest. Well, maybe the fat clothes, but five pairs of black shoes?

Hmmm, good thing I have kids so my womanly bits must be working because otherwise I'd be seriously considering doing a sex chromosome check or something, XYY anomaly perhaps?

But, I'm definitely feeling very fan-girlish tonight as I was squeeing away when I realized that Jensen was wearing The Watch ( that Jared gave him ) at the Comic Con recently.

*sighs happily*

SPN pre-series fic rec

Another Chapter by queencria

The story of Sam and Dean in their formative years, beautifully and convincingly written that you just have to believe that that was how it must have happened; how Sam and Dean became Sam and Dean and how they got through their fucked-up life with no one but each other for support. Melancholic, with an undertone of weariness throughout the story, you won't find much laughter in this. You'd most likely end up feeling emotionally drained, but in a good way, because this story was very well-written, and you'd just want to reach out to those two boys and you know, just hug them close.

In this chapter of their life, Dean is twenty and still a senior because John forgot to send him to school until he was seven and then he missed seventh grade because of a hunt. Sam is sixteen and a junior because he started a year early.

The truth is there’s something raw and unfinished between the Winchester brothers; something that makes the pretty blonde scholastic decathlete in Sam’s trig class force herself to look from his lanky frame to the less attractive, less interesting but more understandable boy next to him. It’s the same thing that makes the slightly slutty, but still pretty interesting girl almost sigh with relief instead of disappointment when Dean doesn’t call. No one ever wants to step in front of a train, if they like their life the way it is, because they know there’s no chance of them winning. Human vs. fate? The winner’s never in question and there’s something very inevitable about the way Sam and Dean look at each other.

And as for them? They don’t let it bother them anymore. Even as they walk separate ways down the hall, they both know the one ironclad fact of their wandering, anchorless little lives. When everything goes to hell, when the so called normal people are shit scared of the things that go bump in the night, when Dad’s spiraling away into his own self loathing with a bottle of Jack Daniel’s held loosely in his hand, Sam and Dean only have Sam and Dean.

They have each other, end of story.