Forever Dream Senior Dog Sanctuary, located in Tryon, NC, is at risk.
Last week a trusted volunteer, and close friend of the sanctuary owner for 30 years, shocked our entire community by stealing all of the sanctuary’s funds and disappearing.
Police reports have been filed, investigations are underway, but while all of that is going on, the sanctuary still has no funds. The local community is already helping out by donating what food and supplies they can, but tens of thousands of dollars worth of donations were stolen. That money goes towards keeping the sanctuary running.
Please, please help. Verna Wilkins, the sanctuary owner, is my friend, and I have had the privilege of working up close with the seniors and the sanctuary, and seeing the amazing work she does. The sanctuary is such a wonderful place. It not only provides forever homes and medical care to undesirable senior dogs, but Verna also rehabilitates feral seniors that were abandoned – something that happens all too often in this area.
Please, even one dollar helps. And if you can’t donate, getting this spread as far and wide as possible helps tremendously. Help save these dogs from having to be put down, or live their lives out in shelters without proper medical care or love.
together, we make one giant existentialist meme-loving generation
think about it. alternate universes. existential crises. late night depression memeing sessions.
the reason older generations are trying to pit us against each other with this tide pods crap is they know we’re strong enough to overthrow them together
Warnings: threats, mentions of future sexual violence!
Since arriving in the capital all those months ago, mornings had been the worst time. Being pulled from your dreams and plunged into the biting cold of your reality. You weren’t in Winterfell, you weren’t with Ned, you were here, in King’s Landing, a caged bird. The rest of the day was spent longing to return to those dreams, the only place where reality lapsed.
Mornings grew no easier upon your return to Rhaegar’s cage.
You awoke, cold and filthy, half-draped beneath a set of red-silk sheets. Further examination revealed the dried blood matted to your thighs and clothes, and memories seemed to return with a chill. The baby. You shot bolt upright in bed, moving to scramble out as your eyes scanned the room.
Empty. Dark, save for a few stationary wall sconces. And most troubling- locked.
Your fist pounded twice against the door, and a voice, your voice, emerged hoarsely. “Please, someone let me out, I need to find my daughter-”
The door swung outward on your third knock. A set of violet eyes stared back at you, glimmering darkly. He carried no child, nor any weapon. But the madness you’d begun to see in him before fleeing had returned with full-force. His eyes flicked to your left, the bed, before entering the room and letting the door close behind him. “Comfortable?” He asked, his tone oddly contained. “I know it’s not quite what you’re used to, but, given the circumstances-” he trailed off with a half-smile.
Your gaze flicked towards the door, noting how the locking mechanism remained in place. He hadn’t locked it behind him. Your brow furrowed, eyes snapping back to him as he spoke.
“You can run if you want. I don’t suspect you’ll get very far.” His voice was surprisingly airy and light for the subject matter. Upon your silence, he continued. “You’ve made quite a mess for me, you know?” He pulled his knees to his chest, transfixed on you. “Your brother will rebel, and the others will rally around him. The difference is,” his voice lowered slightly, as though revealing a secret. “I have you, and our daughter.”
The terror in your expression spoke volumes, and you kept your distance carefully, treating Rhaegar as one would treat a wild animal. Had his mind left him so quickly? Leaving him just as mad as his father had once been? Was he so far gone as to harm a child?
Continuing, he got back to his feet, rounding the corner of the bed and nearing you. “I have no intention of harming you.” He clarified, keeping a reasonable arm’s distance. “But, an alliance must be made for the wars to come.” He drew his conclusion as a mathematician would, with a flourish in his words. “I will return to the traditions of the Targaryens before me, and take a second wife to serve beside you. Perhaps she will suit me better than you have.”
Your heart stuttered for a second, and your confusion must’ve shown, because his next words only served to frighten you further. Your back touched the wall, and you squeaked as he advanced, moving to duck beneath his arm.
He caught you easily and pulled you flush against his body. He crooned in your ear. “No harm will come to you.” He reassured, holding tighter when you struggled. “Or the child. You haven’t met her yet, have you? Our darling Rhaella.”
You felt a lump rise in your throat, and your struggling increased tenfold. You threw back an elbow, catching him in the ribs. That moment of stunned weakness was all you needed to break free of his hold. You clambered over the bed and stood on the other side of the room, staring back at him. “She will never carry that name.” Venom swelled in your mouth, and you grew more furious the longer you looked at him. “She is not one of your kind! She is pure, and untainted by your madness! And I won’t let you infect her with the curse your names carry!”
His expression darkened formidably. He grew eerily calm, clasping his hands in front of him, and advancing slowly around the bed. “Be wary, Stark, though you may not think it, I’ve shown you a great kindness today. I will allow you to care for the child until it is grown. I will allow you to teach her the same hatred you conceal, but when the child is grown, I will push you from this tower and allow the Gods to have their say in your treachery.”
It was dizzying, jut how quickly his mood changed. Drunk on a mixture of terror and anger, you didn’t allow him to get the better of you. “I want to see her.” You stated firmly. “And I will give her a name befitting of a Stark.”
He was calm, if only for a moment. “Very well.” He approached the door, calling through the slats in the bars. “Have the wet-nurse bring the child!”
You could hear the rattling of armor as men fled to obey his command.
Within a few minutes, you heard the Kingsguard return, and the soft cries of a child, disparate and longing. The door swung open, and beside the bedraggled looking wet-nurse, Jamie Lannister stood, gaze raking over you in silent concern. Though the Starks had no standing alliance with the Lannisters, you were a kind girl, and deserved none of what had befallen you. Jamie bore this in mind as the King pushed past him and exited the chamber. He watched the wet-nurse place the child into your arms, and watched as the infant’s cries quieted when you cooed to her. It was a tender scene.
You spared the Lannister no second glance, only focused on the blanket-clad bundle in your arms. The wet-nurse was quick to leave, knowing when her presence was unwanted.
Jamie approached your dresser, pulling open the top drawer and examining the garments inside.
This was when you finally granted him you attention. “Get out of there, you p-”
“The King means you no ill will.” Jamie interrupted, sifting through the piles of slips and socks. “He cares for you a great deal.” He reached for the small blade strapped to his hip, unsheathing it silently. “I have no doubts that he will attempt to reconcile with you tonight.” His tone was low and casual, and seemed almost innocent to any eavesdroppers. Setting the gold-adorned blade among the garments, he covered it messily. “You’ll let him do what he wants, alright? It’ll be less trouble for you that way, I won’t have to see your head on a pike.” He closed the drawer, turning to face you, his eyes searching for understanding. “If you have need of me, I’ll be posted outside your door through the night. Good evening, my lady.”
Your eyes followed him until he left, you heart pounding against your ribcage. His meaning was clear. You had friends within the palace, just as Rhaegar had enemies. Jamie meant to make you a Kingslayer. And as you glanced down at the child in your arms, your will was steel.
You’d strangle him with the shackles he’d molded for you.
FIN
{Sorry for all the angst this story has brought, I have a hard time believing that a healthy relationship would grow in a political marriage like this, and I wanted to explore the extremes of just how mad Rhaegar could become. I guess that coin toss wasn’t in his favor. (Get it? Get it?)}
school districts and administrators are working hard to scare students out of protesting in the wake of the Parkland shooting.
don’t fall for their bullshit. you have the right to speak up and make yourself heard. a local superintendent doesn’t overrule the first amendment, much as they might like to.
and here’s an open invitation: I’m a teacher, recent PhD, one-time educational administrator (although not in a public school), and hopefully soon to be a college professor. if you need advice on navigating the crap your school is giving you or minimizing the impact they can have on your chances of getting into the college of your dreams, message me. I’ll help you find legal resources, write admissions essays, find ways to argue for your right to protest to your school board – whatever I can do.
please signal boost this, and if you’re someone who can help (civil rights lawyer? college admissions counsellor? experienced activist leader?), join in and let young activists know what you can do to help.
Hi there is no such thing as a “permanent record” outside of the legal system. Your school records don’t go to the FBI or the cops.
Also if you get suspended or punished for protesting, call the ACLU. There’s case law protecting the first amendment rights of students. They can help.
The Supreme Court ruled in Tinker v. Des Moines that students’ rights don’t stop at the door of a school
The Second Ammendment may be the major focus in this fight but never forget the First
You have rights
Amending that Tinker v. Des Moines specifically refers to non-disruptive protests, but I could definitely see a case being made that protests for your lives would fall under that right.
If a superintendent actually suspends you for expressing your First Amendment right, call the ACLU and get on that. Yours could be the next case to protect future students.
andtheytoldustotellyouhello 