written for the destielficletchallenge. My counterpart for this prompt was winchysteria.  Prompt: Person A is a scientist who created Person B.

AU. Word Count: 4350. Rated T. 

Warnings: Drug use/abuse, psychiatric disorders/trauma/mistreatment/abuse, unreliable narrator

A prodigy, he’d been called; the new face of neuroscience, the one who would single-handedly save the world from neurological disorders. A Ph.D by the age of twenty-five, articles in more journals than he could count, whispers about a Nobel Peace Prize as he slid comfortably into his late twenties with the achievement of a sizable new grant to study the subconscious and various sleep disorders.

The grant money had long since run dry. He’d been on a kindly forced “extended sabbatical” that was approaching its third year. Dean refused to think about what would happen when his access to the meager and barely sufficient instruments he had to resort to was revoked. He was so close.

He arranged himself on the table, and his brother – medical assistant, lab assistant, EMT and the only person left who didn’t call Dean insane, at least not where Dean could hear – fastened the safety straps on his arms and across his thighs. “Sam?” Dean asked, raising his brows to feel the tug of the adhesive on the monitoring wires at his temples.


“Two hours in phasic REM tonight. Deep. Don’t let me start coming up after I hit REM the third time. Keep me there.”

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Hello! It's the anon who asked about your asexuality. I wanted to say thank you for answering it so candidly and for explaining everything. Recently, I've been trying to figure out my sexuality and folks like you are making it a lot easier!
User portrait Anonymous

I’m glad I could help in some capacity! I am of the firm opinion that being candid and honest, even about something so personal, really only helps (1) solidify ideas about my own sexual identity, through the act of putting it into words and (2) help others find the words to use as framework for their own identities. Because while I believe sex itself is not a vital human experience, sexual identity is a vital part of self-identity. If you ever have any questions you don’t want answered publicly on the blog, I’m always happy to answer in whatever (albeit limited) capacity I have in private messages.

When did you realize you were asexual? Or like how did you figure it out
User portrait Anonymous

I knew that I didn’t really get turned on by sex when I was about 18 or so. Against my wishes I became sexually active at 13, but I don’t think I really had the opportunity to form a sexual identity outside of the trauma of that experience until at least 18, possibly not until 22 or 23, well after I had met and begun dating the man who would become my husband.

I always thought that it was trauma-related, and my therapists tended to agree, until I found Tumblr at the age of 25. Seriously, it was Tumblr that introduced me to this particular sexual identity. I didn’t know it was a thing until then. 

If you want to get down to the nitty-gritty, the word for it is autochorissexualism: disconnection between oneself and a sexual target or object of arousal. Spoken in layman’s terms: porn is hot, and orgasms feel good, but sexual intimacy does not arouse me when I am involved in the equation. I’d rather watch or read about others doing the do than do it myself.

I’m not sex-repulsed. When I know my husband is in the mood, I often want to make him feel good and wanted and loved. It doesn’t turn me on and we’re both comfortable and okay with that fact. He knows that my idea of feeling wanted and loved and intimate is in the being held afterward. It took a lot of communication to get this way, particularly since we started out as fuck buddies (that…is a long and dramatic story stemming from my unhealthy views of sex and love and his desperate infatuation with me). 

I’m still trying to figure things out about how my brain and hormones work together. But as narrow-minded and bigoted as Tumblr sometimes is, it’s given me the terminology to work with, and the knowledge that sexual identity not a rainbow with stark boundaries between the colours, but a spectrum with blurs and gradients and maybe no solid spot to stand, but a place you feel comfortable containing in a circle and pointing “Here. Here is where I am.”

I’m worth twelve of you, Malfoy.

Neville Longbottom, Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone / Sorcerer’s Stone

It’s Neville’s birthday! Celebrate with some of his best quotes.

(via mugglenet)
where's the weirdest place you've ever gotten laid?
User portrait Anonymous

Oh man. Um, the whole “asexual” thing makes this question really…anticlimactic?

A bathtub.

It wasn’t even, like, a public bathtub or a hotel bathtub. It was a bathtub. In our apartment. We were already married. I had made him take a bath because his back was hurting. And I figured I’d make him feel a little better another way. 

It was wet and sloshy.

I had to use a lot of towels to clean up the mess.

Judging from his post-coital bliss hum, it was worth it? Sure. Let’s go with that.

what was the wildest dream you've ever had
User portrait hamburgergod

I had to tech my own tonsillectomy and do it while keeping everything sterile.

Trust me, it was way wilder than it sounds.

I feel like we’re really getting to know one another. This is a beautiful thing. HELLO NEW FRIEND

if you were a dragon (i'm assuming you're not here but correct me if i'm wrong) what would you hoard
User portrait hamburgergod


Have you ever smelled these things? Have you seen them? Flowers of the fucking gods. But I CAN’T FUCKING GET THEM TO GROW WHERE I LIVE BECAUSE IT IS WET AND COLD AND THEY LIKE WET AND WARM DO YOU SEE MY PROBLEM

and there is NO good plumeria perfume


I have scoured the globe

I wanted to smell like plumerias for my wedding but NO THE FATES INTERVENED and I smelled like some perfume on my dresser instead and halfway through my husband asked why I smelled like eraser because he has the stupidest olfactory glands known to mankind

but yes

I would have a fucking garden of plumeria bushes

that would be my hoard