i must snuggle!

Whelp here’s my contribution to the SM Fluff Wars!:D

So glad I kept this until later. This is a colored version of one of my earlier sketches. I don’t draw much potionless so decided to cure that a bit!:)


… you might have to work a little harder than that, Dean (11x06)

anonymous asked:

i swear to god, if nathdow gets anymore cuter i'm gonna have to snuggle him XD when things are too cute i must snuggle them lmao -jiji

I will give him a little heads up then. XD


After Jim realized that the other snuggle position put him in danger of falling off the sofa, he decided to move to the other side of Fae. He really likes to cuddle, with dogs and humans!

My First Car Accident

It had already been a long day for both of us, but it was about to get much longer.

Last Thursday, I had a speaking engagement in Princeton, New Jersey at a pharmaceutical conference for some of the world’s biggest drug companies. I spoke about the importance of authentic collaboration between patients and the people making their drugs. My nerves were on high alert all morning as Sarah and I made the stressful trek to Princeton, and to make matters even more fun, our GPS spazzed and took us through what appeared to be Narnia, except with more potholes.

Most of my nervousness came from the impending presentation I had to make. This was a topic I had never spoken on before, and I didn’t know how the audience would receive my ideas. These were big, scary, black-suit, corporate big wigs. I am just a 22-year-old jokester with a bow tie.  

Luckily, even if I bombed the talk, the plan was to spend the rest of the day with my girlfriend, Anna, since she lives right outside Princeton.

To my delight, the talk was a huge success, and we even sold out of copies of my book during the meet and greet after the presentation. There was a great sense of renewed passion in the pharmaceutical community regarding the improvement of patient-pharma interaction.

I exhaled deeply and drank up the sun as Sarah and I left the hotel. The stress melted away in the afternoon warmth.

Meanwhile, my girlfriend Anna was having an equally busy day. Her morning began at the crack of dawn with an early horse-riding lesson, leaving her tired and sore (and smelly) as she drove directly to school for two midterms. After the midterms, she was coming straight to the hotel where I was speaking to swap cars with Sarah.

Traveling with a wheelchair can be a logistical nightmare. Since I was staying in Princeton to hang with Anna, Sarah was going to drive Anna’s car back to Bethlehem so that Anna could bring me home in my accessible van that night. Okay, I guess that’s not actually that confusing, but it seemed way more complicated when we were planning it.

Anna and I went back to her house and had a wonderful evening cooking and eating dinner with her family, but by 8pm we were both dead tired, and still had to make the hour-long drive back to my house. And here is where the fun began.

We loaded the van (after a 45-minute search for a pair of Anna’s shoes (we were going to a gala fundraising event the next night, so she needed heels)). I was sitting in the front space where the passenger’s seat is usually located. We had removed this seat the previous weekend for our vacation, to give me a better view of our trip, like a puppy being allowed to put his head out the window. Although, I don’t drool as much. Actually, that’s not true.

My location in the front of the van is a crucial detail for the events that followed.

I put on “Crazy For This Girl” by Evan and Jaron, and began singing at the top of my lungs, as did Anna. Are you puking at our cheesiness? Don’t worry, we’re about to pay for it. The universe couldn’t handle how cute we were being, and needed a way to fix the situation.

About a minute later, while cruising on one of those two-lane roads that’s not technically a highway but people drive fast enough that it basically is a highway, we crashed.

Everything happened faster than I can even remember it, but I can recall these details: I sensed Anna’s panic first, looked up from my phone, and saw a huge deer sprinting across the road about ten feet in front of us. I remember screaming and my head falling forward as the brakes were slammed. I remember an unearthly smashing sound and the feeling of a heavy jolt as we struck the deer head on. I can still feel the g-forces of our van jerking to a stop on the side of the road. I swear it was over in half a second.

Okay, still alive. I opened my eyes. Van was upright, my chair had moved considerably despite the tie-downs, and my left knee was wedged under the dashboard, but there was no pain registering yet.

Anna. I looked to my left, asked if she’s okay. She was. Relief. There were many shock-stricken words shared between the two of us. That did not just happen. We were breathing heavy and cursing and possibly crying, but mostly just trying to make sense of the chaos.

Reality slowly set back in and brought with it increasing clarity. An ambulance pulled in front of us and the lights were flashing in my eyes. I assessed the situation more rationally. It wasn’t too bad of an accident, I didn’t think, but then I realized my leg was throbbing, and my arm was also jammed in a painful position.

Battling shock, Anna delicately got me untangled and helped back my chair out of its wedged position, a task that was not easy. As my knee comes free, a wave a pain washed over me, but I barely had time to think about it before we were bombarded by EMS and a police officer.

We recounted the story several times and reiterated that we are both okay, a fact that seemed to become more true each time I repeated it. Our information was collected and we waived an examination by the EMS (in hindsight, I may have been lying to myself about how much pain I was feeling).

My brand new van suffered some damage, but it appeared to be mostly cosmetic, except for a door that won’t open. The officer said we may drive the van home, a small blessing, since arranging another accessible vehicle could have been a true catastrophe. He offered to follow us for a few miles in case we decided the van was unsafe to drive, but by the time we reached the main highway to Pennsylvania, we have decided it will be okay.

The ride home was quiet at first. We were badly shaken, but then, like a small ray of sunshine peeking out after a storm, the joking began.

“That’s the last time we ever listen to that awful song.”

“Actually, can you try to hit another one? That was thrilling.”

Andrew texts me: “Heard Santa is gonna be one reindeer short this year.”

Pat texts me: “Tell Anna not to stress because you were probably being an annoying backseat driver anyway. I would’ve hit the deer too just to prove a point.”

We laugh, and slowly, we relax. We begin to realize how lucky we were that the accident wasn’t much more severe. The deer could have come up through the windshield. I could’ve had my straps off. The airbag could’ve deployed. We could’ve been going much faster.

By the time we pull into Bethlehem, the whole day is weighing pretty heavy on us, and my bed looks like a heavenly oasis. Falling asleep that night, I remember feeling incredibly thankful to be alive.

But we weren’t quite out of the woods yet.

My night was long and restless, as the pain in my knee began to get progressively worse. By morning, even the slightest movements sent wrenching pain through my body. Something was wrong.

Through the cloudy eyes and coffee mind of early-morning at the breakfast table, I related this new development to my family. Getting me from my bed to my chair had been almost impossible from the intensity of the pain.

An hour later, Anna, my dad, and I were on our way to the emergency room. Mom stayed home to handle the car insurance details that needed to be sorted out.

The rest of the day gets cloudy, but this time the haziness was caused by some very nice pain killers provided to me by the hospital. I got a few x-rays that required four pairs of hands to execute because of the precarious nature of my muscle contractures and the injury I had suffered. Nothing appeared to be broken, but the jury is still out. My pain has since gone down a bit, but I’m still on meds so it’s tough to say for sure. (Also, can I get a fist bump for writing this under the influence of narcotics? It’s probably riddled with grammatical errors. If so, I’m sorry.)

Looking back on the events of Thursday night and Friday, Anna was nothing short of phenomenal, taking care of me like a hero despite my endless whimpering and complaining. My dad was equally as patient and caring. Although I must say, snuggling with Anna helped way more than snuggling with my father would have helped, I imagine.

Unfortunately, I had to cancel several speaking engagements on Friday and Saturday and Monday. I hate canceling events, but I didn’t want to risk my health. Life has such an interesting way of switching things up when you least expect it.

My dad summed it up best when Anna and I spoke to him after the crash. We were obviously upset by the damage and stress we had created.

He said, “Are both of you okay? Like really okay?”

Yes, we answered.

“Well, that’s all that matters. You’re both alive. Nothing else matters.”

Kensi’s logic though.

We must kiss so this woman looks at us.

She has obviously never seen beautiful people kiss at an outdoor cafe.

She will be shocked and not be able to turn away.

I must sacrifice myself and snuggle up to you.

I must kiss your disgusting scruffy face for the safety of America.

I must then laugh at what you say and lean my forehead against your face.