five spoke


Ten images of blind people’s visual art will change the way you understand blindness forever

An all-too-common misconception is that all forms of visual impairment have the same effects. But in reality, vision loss is an incredibly variable experience, both in terms of its causes and how it affects one’s sight. To better understand what it’s like to live with vision loss, we spoke with five visually impaired women with very different conditions. Here’s what and how they saw.

Images: Melanie Melamed and Liz Nielson

Flat of Angles on ao3

Hannibal counted the ticks of the second hand. Five before Will spoke.

“It’s my stag night.”

Five more before he continued.

“And Beverly has been asking for weeks what I wanted. She gave me suggestions, asked me about my favorite things to do.” He took a step closer, Hannibal took a step back. “And it occurred to me how she and I have been speaking less. How she wouldn’t know what my favorite things to do are because they’ve changed. You changed them. And now all my favorite things to do are things I do with you.”

The foyer had never felt so small. Hannibal was at his most stoic, silent since Will pushed him aside and entered without invitation. They were on opposite sides, hovering near opposite walls. Two animals caged, even without witness they were a spectacle.

“I wanted to give her the names of a few of your overpriced restaurants. Or ask to go to one of those stuffy bars. But the idea of being there without with you seemed,” three ticks, “pointless.”

Two ticks.

“I leave for my honeymoon tomorrow night. That’s two weeks. And when I get home, there’s the move. Then I’m gone.”

Four ticks, Will was looking for a reaction. Any hint to what Hannibal was thinking or feeling. He was given none.

“And when I thought about my last night in this city the only thing I wanted to do was be with you. If you don’t want to stay here, we can go out. If you don’t want to talk, we don’t have to. If you don’t want to be in the same room with me, I’ll sit outside on your steps until sunrise. I don’t care about the circumstances or stipulations. I just want to spend these last few hours with you.”

Sixteen ticks. “I suppose you’ll want something special for dinner? I was planning on duck.”

Relief. “It doesn’t have to be special.”

“Our last supper.” He was leaving the room, leaving Will to follow. “The meal must match the occasion.”

And follow he did. “So must the conversation. Our last, Hannibal - ”

He caught his hand, pulling him to a stop. Hannibal resisted the impulse to pull away, to retreat. Two animals in close quarters, he felt cornered. He didn’t trust himself here.

“Tell me everything you haven’t.”

Will said it like he meant it. Like he’d gladly spend the night listening to every frivolous detail that Hannibal had to offer him. He didn’t understand just how much the man had to tell.

“Everything I don’t know about you. Everything you might have said if we had more time.”

Impulse. “I regret ever meeting you.”

It hung in the air and Hannibal, for the life of him, could not remember deciding to say it. Or ever having thought it in the first place. Cornered animal, spitting and hissing, he couldn’t trust himself.

So he tried again. “I had a sister.”

And Will’s stricken, wounded expression softened to one of shy curiosity. And Hannibal found himself working to undo his blurted mistake. And so he told Will everything.

“I play the theremin.”

“I love the way you are with your dogs.”

“I have a small collection of vinyl.”

“I noticed your hair is three different hues in the sunlight.”

“The duck will be ready soon.”

Will prompted him only once.

“Will you miss me?”

I will miss your company and our conversations. I will miss your criticizing my ‘overpriced’ restaurants and ‘stuffy’ bars. I will miss those dogs and your small house and the smell of you hidden beneath the scent of wet fur. I will miss our walks and your voice and the promise of seeing you the next day. “Yes. I think so.”

“I’ll miss you.” His voice shook. “I’ll miss you everyday.”

Softly. “And I you.”

“I play the piano. I love your laughter lines and your hair when it isn’t gelled. I hate half the food you’ve served me but somehow, when you make it, it’s my favorite thing.” Will glared hard at a spoon he was clutching. “And I will miss you.

Hannibal took the spoon from his hand and replaced it with his own.

Speaking softer still. “And I you.”

It’s 12:10 am

And I want to share what I love about law school: 

I love the feeling of my brain being stretched and absorbing information. The intellectual challenge of learning how to read a judicial opinion. Developing critical analytical skills and learning how to counter what I read especially because I’m a person who naturally agrees with everything. 

I love how I’m no longer studying for the sake of a grade like I was in undergrad, but I’m learning because I’m going to have to know this to help someone in the future. And that is an infinitely greater incentive than a letter on a piece of paper. 

I love my diverse, ambitious classmates who are sweet, caring and hilarious to be around. After my Con Law final, I was sitting at a restaurant with four friends and among the five of us, we spoke 11 different languages. But I only speak English so among the four of them, they spoke 11 different languages. Isn’t that insanely cool?! They had done the PeaceCorps in South America, worked with indigenous tribes, taught English in Russia etc. etc. My friends are so cool. 

I love seeing how the law can be used to solve systematic problems but also love learning its limitations and realizing how you really need so many different people to implement change. You need social workers, doctors, engineers, teachers, parents, administrative assistants, publishers, students, activists, community organizers, politicians, judges etc etc. 

I love listening to incredibly passionate and smart professors, especially those that make us debate whether or not a burrito is a sandwich (it is not). 

I love learning about things I never had the courage or time to learn about - the constitutional arguments for and against abortion, the policy concerns behind allowing euthanasia, what the heck mergers and acquisitions are (jk still don’t know what those are), feminist theory (!!! my fav class this semester is gender justice), different philosophies for the justification of punishment in our criminal justice system. 

I love learning about silly things like who gets to keep a meteorite that lands on a farm, or who gets to keep piles of horse poop (thanks property). 

I love the different opportunities I get to experience: going to Boston and hearing about Asian American issues in the law, feeling empowered to speak up and be an example of a Korean American woman in law; going to upstate New York with Christian Legal Society for retreat and sledding at night in the dark underneath a sky pierced with stars.

I love my church. This past Sunday, I woke up early to serve and as I was sitting in the back of the auditorium, the lights were warm, the worship team was singing, and I sat humming along with my coffee-stained breath, feeling oh so very thankful. 

Yes, law school is very very very hard but in the midst of everyone complaining about how much it sucks, I want to be thankful and remember all the things that make it wonderful. 

Anita Pallenberg Interview with Alain Elkann, August 2016

Anita Pallenberg is an actress, model, and fashion designer. Born in Italy in 1944 she was the partner of the Rolling Stones’ guitarist Brian Jones and then the partner of Keith Richards.

Anita, you have worked in the worlds of cinema, music and fashion. Would you define yourself as an eclectic person?

I would say that my life has been based on charm, living life on charm. Just in order to show my father I spoke five languages, and my father said, “With that you will be a secretary.” Now that I have got older I very much appreciate that they forced me to be at least bilingual, Italian and German.

Were you educated in Italy?

I went to school in Germany and I did not go to school in Italy. I think I learned more in museums in Italy.

What did you think you would do in life?

I wanted to be an archaeologist or an anthropologist. I never did it.

How was your life in Rome when you were young?

Mario Schifano was my first boyfriend, and in Rome I was seeing other artists, intellectuals and friends from the cinema world. We used to meet at Caffe Rosati: people like Furio Colombo, Giorgio Franchetti, Cy Twombly, Giulio Turcato.

You met Brian Jones when you were 22 years old?

Yes, I met him in Germany where I was doing a modelling job and the photographer said there is a band playing and you should come, so I went to see them in Munich. I met Brian, who was speaking German and was very erudite. He said come with me, and we became friends. There were also the others like Keith and Mick there. At the time we were smoking hash and I used to travel with hash. I asked them, “Do you want some?” and Brian said, “Yes,” but his friends didn’t. Later I went on a tour in Germany with Brian. I was working as a model in Germany because they paid on the day, that’s why I liked to work there. In France or Italy they paid several days later.

Brian Jones, Anita Pallenberg and Keith Richards

Were the Rolling Stones already famous at the time?

No. They had not written ‘Satisfaction’ yet.

How did you change from being with Brian Jones to Keith Richards?

We were friends and we were together. We were taking loads of acid, but Brian had horrors and bad trips, he did not take acid well. When we got busted in London we all decided to go to Morocco and Brian started to get very violent. We went by car, a Bentley with a driver, and Brian got sick and ended up in hospital. He had asthma. He was very sickly, fragile. So Keith and I drove on and left him there, and that was when we had a physical relationship.

Keith Richards with his 1966 S3 Bentley Continental Flying Spur ‘Blue Lena’, named after jazz singer Lena Horne, in which he drove to Morocco in 1967 with Anita Pallenberg and Brian Jones, her boyfriend at the outset but by their return she was with Keith

That lasted 15 years?

He was the biological right man to be the father of my children. It was more respect and friendship than mad love. Keith is very generous. In those days we did not plan families. I certainly did not want to get married, but I got pregnant. And then because I had to do a film, ‘Performance’, I had to have a termination to do the film. I resented it very much, and so when I finished the film I got pregnant again. If you were not Sophia Loren with Carlo Ponti behind you it was difficult to be treated properly.

Which was your first film?

The first film I did when I was with Brian, he did the music with Jimi Page. It was a Volker Schlöndorff movie, ‘A Degree of Murder’. Then I played in ‘Barbarella’ with Jane Fonda. Roger Vadim was the director.

How was Vadim?

We were doing one take a day at around 6.30 in the evening. All day waiting. Probably I went into drugs because of that, it was so boring to wait. Vadim was funny. He thought he was a little boy and he behaved like a little boy. I spent a lot of time waiting on the set together with Jane Fonda. She had a very tragic life, and she was very professional. Keith was coming to see me, and Jane fell in love with him. After the film she came to our house in Cheyne Walk in London where I had Marlon my baby, and Keith did not let her in. She reminded him of his aunt.

What kind of person is Keith?

He is a musician. My father was a musician as well.

You saw a lot of Mick Jagger?

Me and Marianne Faithfull were always left alone, as Keith and Mick were recording and we were friends. We hung out together, taking drugs together, and we went to John Paul Getty’s house, the Rossetti House, because he was the last resort and he always had some drugs.

How was London in those days?

I always lived in Chelsea since we had a house, before that we were living in hotels. I was shocked in Chelsea by hippy girls who were walking barefoot in the Kings Road. I am Italian and in Italy shoes are a sign of wealth. Only very poor people walk without shoes.

Was Chelsea different at that time?

No, just that now there are more bars and coffee shops.

Fashion was different?

It was hippy time, but I never was a hippy. At that time I worked in ‘Dillinger is Dead’, a film by Marco Ferreri with Michel Piccoli and Annie Girardot. London was a little cliquey group of people who worked in galleries…. artists, musicians… some aristocrats. There were some parties and some events, like Ravi Shankar playing or something like that.

How was it to raise two children in such a lifestyle?

We were on the road a lot, travelling on tour, and I took my son everywhere. I did not send Marlon to school until he was 8 years old. I taught him how to read and write while Keith’s mother looked after my daughter. My daughter (Angela, also known as Dandelion) was born in Switzerland. I took her on the road, but with a girl it is different, sometimes it was an unsafe environment. The difficulty with Keith is that he sleeps all day, and ideally I had to be up with the children all day. I couldn’t have made the tours without the protection of drugs.

Anita Pallenberg with her family

Did you meet many interesting people?

I don’t think so. People are people. I was not a fan. I was not excited to meet John Lennon. It is not my personality. Of course I met John Lennon, and for me he was like an art student. I had a lot of respect for Jimmy Page, that’s about it. Sometimes we would go out to a club called ‘Ad Lib’, but I also used to go out by myself to see the Pink Floyd or Jimi Hendrix. I was not allowed to do it because all the rock stars are male chauvinists in their own camps. If you were in the Beatles’ camp, or the Who, you could not be in the Rolling Stones’.

Why did you break up with Keith?

Because of the growing of the children. My son also used to say to his father, “Dad, you are never there.”

With Keith

What happened when you finished with Keith?

I was happy that I could score my own drugs. That’s the reality. I lived in Long Island and Westchester for about nine years. I was there alone with Marlon and Keith’s father, who lived with us in America as well. I had some boyfriends, but nothing serious. Then I came back to England to clean up from drugs and went to rehab. I was a very bad alcoholic and it took me twenty years to come out of it.

How did you manage to stop?

I went to rehab. I did a baccalaureate in textiles at Central St Martins. I studied.

You became a designer?

I was more interested in fabrics. Then I worked with Vivienne Westwood. I did a lot of things, all sorts of things to save my life.

Do you still think of drugs?

It is like the love of my life. It is a love affair I had to give up. I was on my own, my family did not want to see me. I was disgusting, aggressive, a very hard drinker. I was morose, not a happy drunk. I wanted to live. I took care of myself. I went to AA meetings and all that. People were dying, there was AIDS. It was a dark period.

You managed to stop all by yourself?

How can you stop if not by yourself. That’s the most important thing.

And you did it?

It is fourteen years now with no drugs, no alcohol. I should be able to say that I am thirty years clean. Then I had a relapse with magic mushrooms and I started the cycle again for another ten years. It is a big battle. Now it is finished, unless I get very sick and they prescribe me morphine, which they won’t! Today I can sit at a table in front of people who take cocaine or drink, without problems. I just get bored. People who drink get very boring. They repeat themselves and say the same thing over and over.

Where do you live when you are not in London?

Since four years I spend the winter in Jamaica. Rome is too cold in the winter and so I look after Keith’s house and garden in Jamaica where the climate is perfect, and I paint. I also went to Cuba and South America.

What about your children?

I see them, but they don’t come to Jamaica.

Do you feel Italian and still speak Italian?

Yes. Romana di Roma, Romanaccia. When I was young I was a so-called ‘Pariolina’ and then when I lived in New York in the 70s I realised that there are many Italian dialects in New York that they don’t speak in Italy any more. So I started to cultivate my Roman accent. Also I had a very great friend, the singer Gabriella Ferri, who was singing Roman songs. My children are English. My son speaks a little Spanish, but like all English people they don’t speak other languages.

How would you describe yourself?

A vagabond. An adventurer. I am not a person with one specific talent. I wish I was.

Was it difficult to find your identity?

I don’t want to get stuck in the 60s like platform shoes. Fashion is probably my closest thing, but I don’t like it. It is the thing I spend the most time on.

Who do you like in fashion?

Vivienne Westwood. Then I became a fashion style queen myself. They all want to take pictures of me and write articles about me and my style.

What is your style?

Boots, belts, cashmere, hats, sunglasses, furs as well. I am not politically correct. This is ruining the world. I like lamé fabrics, I worked in India for six months. I like jewelry, all jewelry. I used to wear a lot. Now I get more sensitive I can barely wear anything. I am not afraid of change at all. I think change is the best thing one can do, quite honestly. I do a lot of gardening. I love that. I have an allotment garden in London and grow Italian things. I do it with a German friend who grows German things like potatoes. I have a garden in Italy. I look after Marlon’s garden and Keith’s Jamaican garden. This year we had two crops of bananas for the first time. I paint and design. I do botanical paintings, an ancient art. I like everything that has been there for a long time. I love the Chelsea Physic Garden in London where I go for lunch from time to time. I stopped going out at night since the smoking ban.

How much do you smoke?

About twenty a day, but I am not a cancer person. I do yoga, and also bicycle.

Do you live by yourself?

I have lived alone for twenty years. If I want to see someone I call them, but I don’t like to be called. I have a couple of good friends from the Sixties. I don’t go out, now there are only paparazzi. I don’t like it, I am tired of it.

Are you still friends with Marianne Faithfull?

We are very close. Now she lives in Paris, but we have seen each other a lot recently. She is incredibly strong, talented.

Any regrets?

I do not regret. I liked it better before, when political correctness did not exist and things were less tedious according to me.

Are you afraid to get older?

I am ready to die. I have done so much here. My Mum died at 94. I don’t want to lose my independence. Now I am over 70 and to be honest I did not think I would live over 40.

Chelsea, London

August 2016

deancas fics that people maybe don’t know about but should (part 3)

(part one / part two)

anonymous asked:

☆- opinions on the last five people you spoke to.

@fckjayde - we’re friends, she gives good fashion advice. she’ll always tell me how it is.

@lunastevens - seems nice enough, I don’t really know her that well. 

@danxhealy - seems like a nice guy. has good taste as far as I can tell. 

@noahcohen - I mean, he’s my boyfriend, so I’m pretty fond of him. don’t let his grumpy cat-ness fool you.

@sebhewitt - great guy, basically my brother. the perfect gentleman.

anonymous asked:

It's still so weird to me that Dylann chose to represent himself and delivered his own opening and closing statements. He seems so shy and introverted lol that would be my worst nightmare to speak in front of all those ppl no matter how embarrassed I would be if I didn't 😒

to me him representing himself was no difference I mean he shoulda just shut the hell up he literally spoke like five sentences and did him no good at all

Old Hollywood Trivia

Barbara Stanwyck : Her stage name was inspired by a theatrical poster that read “Jane Stanwyck in ‘Barbara Frietchie.

- Started smoking when she was nine.

Jayne Mansfield : Was a classically trained pianist and violinist.

- Spoke five languages.

Shirley Temple : Her mother, Gertrude Temple, did her hair in pin curls for each movie. Every hairstyle had exactly 56 curls.

- At age six she became the first recipient of the juvenile Academy Award. To this day she is the youngest person ever to receive an Academy Award.

Marilyn Monroe : Because the bathing suit she wore in the movie Love Nest (1951) was so risque (for the time period) and caused such a commotion on the set, director Joseph M. Newman had to make it a closed set when she was filming.

- She was suggested as a possible wife for Prince Rainier of Monaco. But he picked actress, Grace Kelly, to be his wife.

Jean Harlow : Is known as the "original blonde bombshell”, pre-dating Marilyn Monroe as a blonde sex symbol.

- One of the last photos taken of Jean showed her carrying a copy of 'Gone with the Wind’. She was determined to read it, but as her illness progressed, couldn’t get past more than the first few pages.

James Dean : He said on numerous occasions that he did not expect to live past the age of 30.

- Elia Kazan, in his 1988 autobiography “A Life”, says that during the production of East of Eden (1955), he had to have Dean move into a bungalow near his on the Warner Bros. lot to keep an eye on him, so wild was his nightlife.

Greta Garbo : She liked to take walks on cemetaries.

- Left John Gilbert standing at the altar in 1927 when she got cold feet about marrying him.

Shelter Pet


The shelter was a tidy building, with beige carpet and white walls covered in inspirational posters. Cats were housed in a row of neat cells, most of them two to a room, with a few less socialized kitties set apart in singles. They looked up hopefully when a visitor came through the door.

In the last cell on the left was a trim young tomcat. The info sheet on his door said he was twenty years old, and claimed to be half European shorthair and half forest cat. Certainly there was something exotic in his lineage; he had sandy blond hair, sleek, dark brown ears and tail, a strangely angular face, and the most peculiar red eyes. They caught the light easily and flashed like lasers in the dark. No one at the shelter had seen anything quite like him.

The sheet went on to say that he was playful and athletic, had a gifted IQ, and spoke five languages. It also said EXTREMELY FRACTIOUS in big red letters at the top, and DO NOT PUT FINGERS THROUGH BARS.

“Hello,” the cat said hopefully, looking up at the visitor with big wide eyes. He was dressed in a white tee shirt and blue scrub pants, like most of the inmates. He spoke with an accent, although it was hard to place. Some blend of European dialects. “My name is Hannibal. It’s a pleasure to meet you. Are you looking for a cat?”

His demeanor was studiedly suave and confident, almost hiding the desperation in his eyes. He curled his tail and pointed his ears forward, giving the man his complete attention.

“You can give him a treat if you want,” said Dave the volunteer, handing Barney a piece of dried salmon.

The New Kid- 2 (Dean/Dad)

Originally posted by bloodiedpalm

“He’ll be fine.” Echoed softly in Dean’s ears as he started to come around.

“Fine? He’s never fainted before.” Dean heard Sammy say.

“He didn’t have daughter five minutes ago.” Castiel spoke in his usual dry tone, “I’ve heard having children can be a life altering event.”

“Smooth explanation.” Sarcasm dripped of your voice.

“Thank you.” Castiel looked at you seriously.

“He’s waking up.” Sam said as Deans eyes slowly opened, “Dean, you ok?”

“Please tell me I ate something bad?” He asked Sam rubbing his head as he sat up.

“Well from the way I’ve seen you eat it’s entirely possible.” Dean looked over at you kneeling beside him.

“Shit…” Dean stared at you then stood up quickly, “Shit!”

“It happens, more than not.” You told him smirking, “Figuratively and literally.” Sam laughed making you smiled a little.

“This isn’t funny, Sammy.” Dean glared at him feeling more tension then he’d ever felt before.

“No, but she is.” Sam told him smile planted firmly on his face, “She’s been cracking them left and right since you passed out.”

Dean scowled and looked at you again then away quickly. He got a sick feeling in his stomach. He had no idea who or where your mom was. He had no idea how to be a dad. He especially didn’t know anything about girls.

“Breathe…” You told him as you stood up brushing dirt of your pants.

“What?” He snapped out of it and looked at you again.

“You have the same look when I told you that I needed you to go to the store and buy…”

He waved his arms, “Alright alright!” You smirked and stared at him. He swallowed, “I need to think for a minute…more like a few hours and a bottle of scotch.” He didn’t miss the upset look at the mention of alcohol from you.

“Fine…” You got into the car and grabbing your gun and sword strapping them on and clutched your bag to your chest, “I’ll meet you in Coldwater. Or if I don’t…well I guess I don’t.” You looked at Castiel then swallowed as you started down the road at a steady pace.

Dean watched you a minute then cleared his throat as he walked to the driver’s side of the car.

“Dean.” Sam looked at him in disbelief.

“What?” He looked at his brother across the roof.

“You’re just going to let her go?” Sam pointed at you giving him ‘the look’.

Dean stared at him, “I just found out that I have a kid, and that my kid grows up to be a hunter. Furthermore, that my kid did something with a demon to screw up her life! Not to mention at the same time there’s a woman out there carrying her right now!”

“And?” Sam raised an eyebrow at him leaning on the Impala.

“And it’s a girl!” Dean said gruffly as he opened the door.

“And she’s your daughter who needs your help.” Sam pushed off the car, “I don’t think Cas would lie about this.”

“You’re correct.” Castiel nodded walking around the car to stand next to Dean.

Dean stared at Sam and cursed slamming the door as he started walking after you, “Damn puppy eyes…” He shook his head as he got closer, “Hey Y/N…”

You kept walking as if you didn’t hear him. He stopped walking and shouted, “Hey Pipsqueak!” You stopped and looked at him, “Get in the car!“

He turned back still grumbling and stopped and looked at Cas, "You too, unless you got someplace to be…”

Castiel raised his eyebrows at the hostility, and watched him get in the car. His face returned to normal when you approached, “Are you alright?”

You looked at him and shrugged, "I’m doing ok.“ You glanced at the Winchesters in the car, “Dad on the other hand…”

“He doesn’t know you and he’s scared.” Castiel told you in a matter of fact way.

You let out a huff, “That’s new…dad was never scared around me.” You smiled nervously at him, “You coming with?”

“I think I should check on you.” He told you, “Little…you…I don’t how this is affecting you and your mother.”

You nodded frowning and stared at him for a moment longer, “Well then…later I guess.”

“I promise to look after her.” He told you making you stop and look at him. You gave him a small sad smile before getting back in the car.

Sam watched Cas zap away then looked back at you getting in the car, “So Cas is your guardian angel?”

You looked at him surprise lighting up your eyes, “Uh, yeah. I guess he was assigned to me forever ago, but didn’t have to do anything until I was actually in creation.”

“Forever ago?” Sam’s eyebrows went together.

“Like when he was born.” You shrugged as Dean started to drive.

“Hm…” He looked forward his own eyes lighting up, “Interesting.”

“What?” Dean glanced at him.

“Nothing.” Sam waved it off.

“Sammy…do not make me pull over again.” Dean threatened with a rumble.

“No, really nothing, just musing myself.” Sam raised his hands in defense, “I just think it’s interesting that Y/N said born. I thought they were made.”

“Well he’s never said, but we celebrate his birthday.” You smiled a little, “Though he always insisted that he didn’t need one. I was also 7 and insisted. I think I just wanted cake.”

“That sounds like him.” Sam smiled back at you.

“That sounds like me, I love cake.” You told him getting a small chuckle.

Dean stared at the road trying to ignore the situation, while Sam and his ‘daughter’ small talked. Finally the hunter in him couldn’t take it.

“So what kind of deal did you make?” He glanced back at you.

You looked at him those same bright eyes grew dark, “I didn’t make a deal.”

“So he did something to you?” He felt a burning in his chest, “Because they either do something or you made a deal.”

“He literally stole my life.” You told him seeing the fumes pour from his ears, “It’s hard to explain, I don’t know how he did it, except he said that it’s a connection we have. I was born with it.”

“I don’t understand.” Sam frowned, “You do mean you’re soul when you say ‘life’, right?”

“No I mean he literally has complete and utter control over my life.” You sighed and started to explain, “It’s like he stole the deed to my house. He can do whatever he wants to me. Burn it down, build it up…rearrange the furniture…”

You cleared your throat looking away from them uncomfortably. Dean didn’t like the sound of that analogy, “Anyways, he calls I have to answer. He says jump, I say…”

“How high?” Dean felt his jaw tense up, “I think we get it. So killing him will make it all better?”

You looked at him with that pure Winchester determination, “Killing him means he never gets a chance to get to me. Which will mean I don’t learn to fight at the age of eight, I won’t miss my sixteenth birthday, and hopefully I won’t get my first kiss from a jock under the bleachers…”

Silence filled the car until Sam turned in his seat, “Wait…but…”

“Yes.” You nodded smiling at him, glad to see that he was already making connections.

“What?” Dean glanced at his brother who had a distressed look rippling over his face, “What is it?”

"If we kill-” Sam’s eyebrows went together.

“When.” You corrected with a smirk.

Sam continued and looked at Dean, “You’ll cease to exist. Valefar will have never touched her, in anyway, so this version of herself will…”

As he searched for words you leaned forward answering for him, “Theoretically, I will disappear.”

“So you’ll just die?” Dean made a face.

“In a way, I guess.” You nodded, “I might be a memory to you and leave things behind, but I can’t be sure. I’m going off of theory and I’m making it up step by step. Whatever the price, it’ll be worth it.”

“Worth it? You won’t have a life anymore. You’ll be dead.” Dean told you gruffly.

“…but this Y/N, will have a life…” You said softly referring to your smaller self.

Dean looked at you for a moment longer before going back to the road. You were definitely his. Like him, you were putting it all on the line to make life better, “If it comes to it, that’ll be the option, but we will look for alternatives.”

In September 2011, a mysterious teenage boy suddenly appeared, like a wild Pokemon, from a German forest.

He claimed to have wandered the woods for five years with his father, living off the land, after his mother, Doreen, had died in a car accident. He said his father had just died, and had told the boy to turn himself in to authorities if that should happen. The boy did as he was told: He put his father in the ground, turned toward Berlin and walked two weeks until he got there.

The boy, who called himself Ray, couldn’t remember anything that had happened earlier than five years ago, and spoke terrible German but impeccable English. Imaginations ran wild, with mental images of an English family getting into a car accident in Germany and the father and son bolting into the wilderness to spend the rest of their lives in the woods. Were they secretly spies, like in that movieHannah? What had Ray’s father been hiding him from for five years? Will he lead us against the robots when they eventually rise? Or is this more of a parenting by Jungle Book type of deal?

That’s what was so great about the story. There was just enough to get you intrigued, but so many gaps in the information that you could fill in your own details. But this is the sort of story you see all the time on News of the Weird that turns out to have a simple explanation – Ray would end up being a meth head from Florida visiting his sister or something.

And while police have since suggested that Ray’s story doesn’t quite add up, the holes they’ve shot in it only deepen the mystery.

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Frequent references have been made to Mansfield’s very high IQ, which she claimed was 163. She spoke five languages, including English. She spoke French and Spanish, German that she learned in high school, and she studied Italian in 1963. Reputed to be Hollywood’s “smartest dumb blonde”, she later complained that the public did not care about her brains: “They’re more interested in 40–21–35,” she said. (x)