This Was My Last Tattoo. Can’t Wait To Have My Next One Started.

Love is never wrong! 

Wow!

#NotMyPresident

The electoral college does not vote until December 19th. We have 40 days.

What does this mean?

Right now, the presidential election results are only a PROJECTION of the election outcome. They are PRELIMINARY RESULTS. A candidate still needs to earn 270 electoral votes to win. Hillary Clinton won the popular vote, which means that more than 50% of the voters wanted her for president. The electoral college shouldn’t guarantee an override of the public’s opinion– and it doesn’t have to.

There are 21 states that do NOT restrict which candidate the electors vote for. Out of these 21, Hillary lost the following:

As you can see, these states are worth 166 electoral votes. As it currently stands, Hillary Clinton is projected to receive 232 votes. Trump is projected to win 306. This means that 37 votes need to be taken away from Trump to bring him down to 269. Hillary Clinton needs 38 votes ADDED to win 270. These electoral voters can also abstain, which means that they can refuse to vote for either candidate. If 37 of the voters within these states abstain then no candidate will have reached the required 270. In this case, the vote would be taken to the House.

Trump won Pennsylvania, a state that typically votes blue, by less than 100,000 votes. While it is highly unlikely to get all 20 electoral voters to cross party lines and vote democrat, it also isn’t impossible to convince a few of them to be “faithless electors.” We only need to convince 38 out of the 166. That is 23%. There are SIXTEEN states we need to focus our attention on.

A move like this would be unprecedented. However, as we all saw on November 8th, odds don’t guarantee reality. Trump had a less than 20% chance of winning, yet given the circumstances, enough people came together and made it happen. We can make this happen. 

Ask yourself this: What do we have left to lose? We can stay complacent and accept that this country will be run by a racist, sexist, islamophobic, homophobic, ablest bigot, or we can at least try. 

How?

SPREAD THE WORD. Trend #NotMyPresident to let people know that we do not accept being led by a man who does not care about our wellbeing. Email your professors, email the dean of your colleges. The last thing a university wants is negative press. Millenials can take a stand, but that doesn’t mean we have to be the only ones. Church-led events helped bring a lot of disillusioned voters to the polls. Spread the word in any way possible, whether it be on Facebook, Twitter, Tumblr, or even in person. Stage a peaceful protest. Hand out flyers. Let the people around you know that you don’t accept this man as your leader when he won’t even accept you as a citizen with your designated rights.

These 166 people need to face the consequences of electing this man. 

Do this for the people who couldn’t vote. Do this for the people who live in the very real fear of being deported. Do this for the people who will have to face the rise in hate crimes. Do this for the people who have a very real possibility of losing their rights. Do this for the people who will no longer be able to afford necessities. 

favorite stiles stilinski lines 5/∞

Check out my book trailer! Only t-minus 6 days and counting until Rise of the Darkwitch is released.

Have you pre-ordered your copy yet?

Amazon UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/aw/s/ref=nb_sb_noss?k=kindle+books+ziv+gray

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Haha!!

Console Jockey

The official title this is saved under is ‘John post Spider Smashing V2′ but tbh it probably works for most John-gets-into-trouble-in-space/with-gravity/assorted-evils kind of things… I’d love to have...

@lenle-g Here’s the fic. Sorry if I didn’t link right. Also, sorry if you don’t like the name. :)

   I hadn’t liked that he had gone to help Captain O’Bannon in the first place, but he had been so adamant about going. He was used to being a ‘console jockey’ as Alan had said, only participating in the ‘rescue’ part when he had to. Alan could’ve easily gone up in Thunderbirds 3, but John had insisted on going himself, even joked with our youngest brother.

   Did he feel like he had to prove himself to the rest of us? Cause if that was the case, we were going to be having words. He didn’t have to prove himself to anybody, especially not his family.

   And then, to make matters worse, his comms started cutting out; giving us only snippets of what was being said. Before they went out again, it sounded like they were in trouble.

   That’s when I sent Alan up. John only had his Exo-pod suit and whatever O’Bannon had on her, which I didn’t think was very much. At least there was equipment on board Thunderbird 3.

   So as soon as I lost communication with Alan, I regretted not going up with him. I knew the two of them were more than capable of looking after themselves – and each other – but not being able to reach them, talk to them, worried me. Anything could happen, and I’d have no idea.

   My pacing always annoyed my brothers, but it’s something I automatically did in times of trouble, and this was definitely one of those times.

   In my mind, the amount of time that had transpired without comms had been longer then it actually was. It had only been about half-an-hour, but it felt like hours.

   They were bickering about ghosts – and not telling Kayo or I about how they were scared – when I finally got an uninterrupted feed from the two of them. I didn’t even realize I was holding my breath until I saw them, and release it.

   Even though holograms were amazing with sound and seeing people, I couldn’t tell if they had any injuries; major or minor.

   “We’re just gonna drop off our passengers, and then head home.” Alan told me, pushing a few buttons in his ‘bird, “Should be back within the hour, so no need to go all Smother Hen on us.”

   It was such a relief seeing them, that I didn’t even tell him off for using the nickname that John gave me years back.

   After they cut the link with the Island, my pacing resumed until the tell tale sound of Thunderbird 3 coming into land breached the otherwise quiet of our home. And when the smoke cleared from her landing, I knew it would only be a couple of minutes before they made their way back to the lounge.

   Sure enough, just as the last of the smoke disappeared, the seats from Thunderbirds 3 appeared from the floor. Alan seemed relatively okay, apart from the little wince he gave when the seats jolted into place. John was better at hiding his pain, but he couldn’t hide his visible injuries.

   He was wearing his worn NASA t-shirt and jeans; his pale skin marred with cuts on his cheek and newly forming bruises on his forearms, biceps, and hairline.

   “Before you ask, Scott, I’m fine. Just a bit banged up.” John said, getting up from the chair and walking over to me, holding out his arms, “See? Perfectly fine.”

   He couldn’t say anything else, because I almost leapt across the lounge before pulling him into a hug. I didn’t care if he was taller than me – damn gravity making him slightly taller after long periods in space. After a couple seconds of his awkward ‘what the hell do I do?’ he gently patted my back.

   “Oh, don’t mind me. I didn’t do anything, did I?” Alan huffed affrontedly, but he was smiling at the two of us.

   “Why did you do it Johnny? You could’ve let Alan go in your place.” I asked him, being as gentle as I could in my question and hug. I’d just caught sight of more bruises forming on his back.

   “I’ve been asking myself the same question, and I don’t know.” He didn’t even mention the fact that I used a nickname he hated.

   “Were you doing it to prove yourself?”

   “Probably not consciously.” He shrugged the best he could with me clinging onto him like my life depended on it, “I guess I could’ve been on some level, but I wasn’t meaning for it to look like that.”

   I held him out at arms length after a couple of minutes, taking every little detail about him in; from the slight bags under his eyes, to the way his shoulders slouched, to how he held himself.

   “Don’t ever scare me like that again. I can’t afford to be going grey at my age.”

   “Too late for that, Scotty.” Alan commented, wiggling his way between us, “You already have a few grey hairs.”

   We all started laughing, bringing each other in for another brief hug.

   “Alright you.” I pointed at John, “Time to get you looked at. And you’re Earth-bound until further notice.”

   “Come on, Scott.”

   “Don’t argue with me. When you’re healed up a bit, you can go back up, but until then, it’s time to stay on Earth for a while.”

   “Fine.”

   We started making our way down to the med-bay, when I just had to say one other thing to my immediate younger brother.

   “You know, you did pretty well for a console jockey.”

Virgil hesitated then gently slid his arm further around John’s shoulders, trying to coax his brother close. John didn’t really do affection very often, but tonight seemed like it might be one of those times when there was an exception to be made.

John, soft and pliable, lets himself be pulled into those arms far to easily. He’s too thin, too light and too willing. A jerky, shaky hand raises and fingers slowly begin to curl numbly into the  soft, moss-green fabric of Virgil’s sleep t-shirt. The fist begins to wind itself tighter and tighter and a tremor starts like a small earthquake between John’s shoulder blades; as if his world is shaking apart and taking him with it. He’s a man in need of rescue. The arms tighten and then, suddenly, the young astronaut is clinging fiercely to his brother, face buried at Virgil’s throat, limbs trembly and fingers painfully tight, over Virgil’s back as his sibling just holds him there like their Mother would have done.

And that’s what pulls at the thread of John’s consciousness and makes the dream begin to unravel; drawing strength and tension from his limbs and leaving him lax and quiet against his brother with a;

“I’m sorry…”

And just like that, a tension that has lingered since Jeff Tracy disappeared has gone. John had never cried and now he has… it’s like a floodgate has opened.

A part of this RP thread, in which John has a nightmare about their Father’s plane going down and Virgil’s hugs are excellent cures for sad brothers

Galaxy clusters reveal new dark matter insights: the inner region of Abell 1689 galaxy cluster as seen from the Hubble space telescope

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