amateur writer. tree hugging dirt worshipper. spider enthusiast. bear connoisseur. the boss, floatato, and 747 superfan. the source of dale cooper's lingering unease. love child of David Lynch and Wong Kar-wai.
AO3
masterlist
YAUTJA // JOE GRAVES // JOEL MILLER // PUPPY (RUINER) //JOHN WICK
the pitt
babyshark | drabbles, headcanons
Brendon Park, Park the Shark | fics, drabbles, headcanonslost cherry // crybaby
Jack Abbott | drabbles
Robby | drabbles
call of duty
John Price | fics, drabbles, headcanons
father figure // hands like barbed wire // my body sleeps on your boredom // salt on your lips (and the hands that god gave you) (dddne: incest) // sea fever // past and pending // baby blues // prairie wolf // when your need grows teeth // bury your teeth in me
Ghost | fics, drabbles, headcanons
dogmeat // caging a wolfdog // shadow monsters on wooden church walls // sea, swallow me // copper sutures, open wounds (dddne: incest) // blue collar ghost // dangle on the leash // appetite
Gaz | fics, headcanons
third hour of the night // fistful of ashes // lavender skies
Soap | fics, drabbles, headcanons
straw house, straw dog // infinity in the palm of your hand (eternity in an hour) // coorie
141/Ghoap | fics, drabbles, headcanons
body electric // on the flipside // down to the marrow // birds of paradise // kleptoparasitism // victory lap
Fanfiction Gifts for Donations to Indigenous Communities in Canada
For those of you who don't know, Canada is on fire, and Indigenous communities are being disproportionately affected by the overwhelming damage.
A few Call of Duty fanfic writers here on tumblr are coming together to write fics for those who show proof of donation to charities such as:
Anishinabek Nation 7th Generation Charity
Ontario Native Women's Association
Mikinakoos Emergency Fund
Red Cross
True North Aid
Indigenous Climate Action
Any others with an appeal that appears on an official First Nation, Tribal Council or registered charity channel
At the moment, we have 30 slots open! If you are interested in receiving a fanfiction as a gift for your donation, more information is below the cut! (Even if you're not interested, we ask that you please reblog!)
Rules:
You MUST be 18 years or older for this event. Please have it marked somewhere on your blog when requesting! (Or even in your message to us if that makes you more comfortable. We don't need an exact age, just ensure that you're not a minor!)
Prompts are first come first serve! The first 30 people who show vetted/verified proof of donation will be getting fics! We will close our asks when we've met our threshold!
We require a 10$ (or your local currency equivalent) minimum donation. Donating more than 10$ will not get you anything more, but if you have the means to donate more, we encourage it!
Each fic will be around 1,000 words
We are writing for the 141 characters (Ghost, Gaz, Price, Soap) only!
We are doing character x reader fics only!
No dark/Dead Dove: Do Not Eat content, including but not limited to:
fauxcest/incest
murder/violence/death/abuse
underage or age play
nonconsensual sexual content
kidnapping
bestiality, etc.
All fics will be in English
Prompts will go into a pool for writers to choose from. You do not get to choose/request who writes your gift. Our group of writers includes:
Screenshot proof of your donation. (PLEASE redact any personal information if it happens to pop up on the receipt! Internet safety!)
Send that screenshot, along with your prompt, into our ask box!
You should receive your gift in roughly 1-2 months!
Prompts should be easy to fit into 1,000 words! For example:
Character x reader date night on the beach with some fluff/smut
Childhood best friends meeting again at a coffee shop for the first time after being away from each other for years
Meet cute at (location)
“Tags” like ‘hurt/comfort’ ‘there was only one bed’ etc helps loads!
Submission Template:
When you submit into our ask box, we ask that you please use this template to make things easier for our writers!
Attach your proof of donation!
What character do you want written?:
Do you want smut in your fic?: (y/n)
Do you want angst or fluff?:
What blog, if any, would you like to be tagged when the fic is finished?:
Finally, put your prompt here! Feel free to get as creative as you want, just adhere to the rules and make sure it can reasonably be written in 1,000 words!
Writers will be posting on their own account. If you give the blog you want to be tagged with, they will tag your blog! If you'd rather remain anonymous, a complete masterlist of all fics written will be kept here on this blog!
If you have any questions, please feel free to ask them in the comments or send something into our ask box! And again, even if you're not interested in a gift, please donate! And if you can't donate, reblog!!
I didn't know that wolf spiders were cool like that❤️🥲 I've always been bit scared of spiders in general but this helped me a little, thank you🫶
ahhhh love that!! 🖤
and wolf spiders are super neat! very intelligent, too. they exhibit complex problem solving skills, object permanence (which is HUGE, imo), spatial awareness, experiential learning, and memory.
but i think the best "get over arachnophobia" starter spider is the jumping spider. they're one of the most intelligent animals (and the most amongst spiders) and have been shown solving math problems on par with a one year old human child, and can count up to three.
plus, they (likely!!!!) dream.
i put pics of regal jumping spiders under the cut (by the tarantula collective) so you can see how cute these guys are 😭 they are considered the cats of the spider world lmao
i see that you’re a spider enthusiast!! do you have a favourite species?
horrible question to ask me because i can yap about spiders (and bugs) all day lmao but wolf spiders, for sure! i work in forestry so i'm lucky enough to see them all the time and no matter how often one will pop up from under some leaf litter or a bush, it immediately makes my whole day so much better. they're so chill, curious, and sooooo reluctant to bite!! i've had more than a few slip into my work jacket when i put it down during the day, and at most, i get a startled wolfie popping out of my sleeve or they just sit there and accept their fate lmao
summer is my favourite season though because not only are all my fave bugs out and about, i get to see mamas wandering around with a bunch of babies on her back like a lil minivan. and this is a pretty unique trait only to wolfies! some spiders might carry an egg sack, but once the egg sack is mature enough, they either get eaten, eat, or bounce but wolfies load the lil hatched spiderlings up on their back and walk around with them until they're ready to leave on their own—no matriphagy included. and wolfies have an insane maternal instinct too!!! they'll even adopt babies of deceased wolfie mamas, or if they lose their egg sack, they'll wander around and search for another one. i just love them so, so much.
the guy i get all my tarantulas (and other creatures) from said he'd keep an eye out for a Carolina, Texas Brown, or a Madeira wolf spider for me, and i'm so fkn geeked!!!! i already bought a 120 gallon just in case he calls me with some good news (🤞).
cw: telepathy, marijuana use, vague sexual fantasies
heaven is a cafe located two blocks from your flat and one block out of what you've mentally dubbed 'kyle's blast zone'. with each step the screams and explosions playing on a loop in his mind grow fainter and fainter until they're completely gone- buried behind a new mum's worries about her baby's growth percentile and a barista daydreaming about snogging her favorite middle-aged regular that she's mentally dubbed 'mister oat latte'.
it's therapeutic, in a way, to let more mundane thoughts and memories wash over your mind and cleanse your palate of the horrors your neighbor had been unwittingly subjecting you to. it's a much more intimate method of people-watching, and you enjoy sitting in your corner with the book you aren't reading propped in your hand, trying to match what memories and thoughts belong to which customer.
the young professional squinting at his laptop screen is likely the one who's trying and failing at making complicated financial data make sense. the young teenager waiting for her iced coffee is likely the one that's agonizing over a bad test score. you're pretty sure it's either the barista or the pretty goth girl that's still in line trying to mentally plan their next manicure and wondering if their nail tech is up to the challenge of a particularly ornate design. it's a total toss-up which four folks have their minds totally distracted by the big fluffy samoyed that's sat outside the big windows, patiently waiting for it's owner to finish her animated conversation with her friend about how her work acquaintance is likely embezzling from the company.
your coffee is delicious, the cafe' is full of wonderfully mundane thoughts and memories, and the weather is gorgeous. a thought floats across your mind- one of your own- and you wonder if you should try making a little money tonight. after all, there's a back room poker game later on this evening- god knows it's an easy way to pad your pockets and kill several hours away from home. it's not a terrible idea, really, but there's a mental exhaustion that comes with actively reading multiple minds at once and strategically bombing on occasion so as not to arouse any suspicions of cheating again.
after all, your pinky never did really heal right after the first time you were questioned. it arches away from the rest of your fingers, not bending fully around your coffee- a crooked reminder to not get cocky or comfortable when you're playing cards with sharks.
the only downside to choosing to play poker all night is that it's a cash-only game- which means you have to go back to your flat, braving the contents of kyle's mind just long enough to grab the stack of cash hidden in your closet and slip away again. with any luck (and a lot of strategy) you can walk away from the table with enough extra money to hole up for a week in a nice hotel. you can soothe your stresses in a big jacuzzi tub and order room service and-
your planning grinds to a halt as you feel outside thoughts gradually growing louder and more vibrant in your mind, and it freezes the breath in your lungs as you slowly realize what's happening.
-then it's just two more bloody days until i can get back and finish what we started. better remember to get mum's birthday flowers ordered when i get back to the flat- a flash of a bouquet, peach colored with little bits of pink and yellow- maybe i'll order takeaway for dinner while i'm at it- a rolodex of local restaurants flips in his mind, landing on your favorite lebanese place- i'll have to ring soap and see if he wants to play fifa tonight, that could be fun-
it's almost shocking how normal kyle's thoughts are when he's out of his flat. you stare out the window, looking for any sign of your neighbor heading your way, your eyes wide and mouth agape in shock. you've never seen him in person, really, but you've seen him looking in the mirror before plenty of times. the sound of his thoughts grow steadily louder, and any hopes you had of him simply passing some other direction die as soon as you spot his blue baseball cap bobbing down the street and heading straight towards you.
-so bloody knackered, probably coffee instead of tea today. cappuccino, maybe- a stylized cup of coffee floats through your mind, image sharpening with every step your neighbor takes- yeah, that sounds nice. i wonder if that redhead still works here. what was her name? nina? marina? fuck, she had a nice arse. wonder what it would take to get her to let me fuck it. probably not much.
you can't help the exasperated sigh that slips out of you. it's not like you're a prude- after all, you've had a lifetime of hearing people's most sexual thoughts about one another since way before you were old enough to know what any of it meant- but by virtue of it being from kyle, someone you're already biased against, it's the most obnoxious thing in the world.
a pretty red headed girl smiles she hands over an americano. it's wintertime, she's wearing a turtleneck and the sky is grey outside the cafe windows. christmas music is playing softly in the background, muted by steamers and the low din of chatter in the cafe. she turns to work on another drink, and kyle's eyes catch on the curve of her ass as she bends to pick up a dropped lid.
in your heart you know you should take your coffee and leave, but you're too curious. for one, it's interesting to you that the murder and mayhem you're used to seeing from him is suddenly gone now that he's out and about and not just puttering around his flat. maybe that's just what happens when he's bored- his mind fills the gap between active thoughts with memories, good and bad, because it can't stand to just rest. the epiphany almost makes you feel bad for the man... until you remember the things you've seen him do while on deployment.
hm. maybe karma is real.
it's not until he's crossing the street that you see his face for the first time, and it feels so strange to see him in real life like this. you've managed to avoid running into him for years, and now here he is, just on the other side of a pane of glass, stepping back onto the sidewalk and then pushing open the door to the cafe. he really is a handsome man- and even prettier in person, if you're honest. he looks like a model as he tucks his cap under his arm, flashing a charming smile to the barista behind the counter that gets her twitterpated and giggly.
it was such a surprise the first time you'd seen him through his own eyes in the bathroom mirror- never in your life had you imagined that a face with such kind eyes would be capable of the brutality you'd seen him dole out. it was a shock to the system and a memorable re-enforcement of a lesson long since learned: never ever trust appearances.
it's hard not to stare, but you do make a valiant effort to finally pretend to read your book as he puts in his order. your eyes lock onto a a slightly smudged looking 'b' on the page, watching through his eyes as he dicks around on his phone, texting his sister about birthday plans for their mum as he waits for his order to finish. it's strange to see yourself in the periphery- out of focus, but still very much there, the red cover of your book standing out slightly against the beige and white decor of the cafe.
"americano for kyle?" a pleasant voice rings out over the din of noise, both in your ear and in your head. kyle's attention snaps back up off his phone as soon as he taps 'send', and you sneak a glance right as he happens to look your way.
the shock of it- making eye contact with yourself through his eyes, of the way his thoughts skid to an abrupt halt at the sight of you- almost makes you flinch. instead you drop your gaze back down to your book, pretending nothing happened, waiting for him to move on, to do another sweep for the redhead before he leaves-
he's watching you sit in the corner, eyes lingering on how your round ass fills the seat you occupy. he sees that you're staring down at a book he vaguely remembers hearing someone talk about, and he knows you're not reading. he's noticed your eyes aren't traveling across the pages,instead stuck still on one spot- shit, fuck, goddammit- oh, now they are. how interesting-
bootfalls come closer and closer as you skim your book, strategically choosing to turn the page despite having retained nothing of what your eyes had glossed over.
-just sit close enough to see, but not close enough to raise attention. fuck, what a pretty thing, he thinks as he sits a few tables over. bet i could really bite down on that arse- there's so fucking much of it. i could just sink my teeth in, dig in my fingers, fuck. been a while since i followed a big girl home, wonder if she's a screamer-
flashes of half-formed plans to seduce you flit across his mind, and you wish the samoyed was still here, that kyle could've been distracted by the big beautiful dog instead of you. lebanese, fifa, and flowers for mum are all wiped clear from his thoughts- he's determined to get you in his bed, to bite and fuck and use you as he likes.
there's absolutely no way you're letting that happen- he might be pretty and he might have a big dick, but you've seen the kind of man he really is. you know the things he's done. you're not about to let a goddamned war criminal between your legs.
i'll just catch her eye again, flash her a smile, and ask about her book. that'll get her to talk to me. it'll be easy after that.
his confidence would be sickening if you didn't acknowledge how right he is. if you couldn't hear his thoughts, that beautiful smile paired with that handsome face would make you putty in his hands, there's no denying it. you've seen the memories of him flirting- the man has game. you wouldn't stand a chance.
you pretend to check your phone for the time, pretend to suddenly realize you're late for something, and pretend to be in a massive hurry to leave. it's not an oscar-worthy performance, but it's enough to make your sudden exit plausible, and that's all you need. kyle chuckles to himself in mild surprise when you don't even glance his way, sipping his americano as he watches you through the window, fantasizing about what it would be like to bounce his hips off your ass as he fucks you from behind.
fuck, where are you going, babes? where are you hauling that big fat arse to? bloody hell, look at the jiggle on that girl. what's i'd give to see her on a trampoline-
kyle makes no move to follow, and it's a relief when you're finally out of his sight. the intensity of his little fantasy fades the further out you get, and by the time you're home it's at a much more manageable level, barely distinguishable over the worries of the old woman next door who isn't sure if she forgot to take her meds or if she took her meds and already forgot.
you pull your phone up to your ear, phone already calling a contact that you have saved simply as a red diamond emoji. the call connects, and you don't even wait for a greeting.
"what's the buy-in?"
"it's off." a familiar voice says, clearly annoyed. big d is, on the best of days, a gruff motherfucker anyways- but there's something else happening here. something more than their everyday levels of irritation.
you blink, hard, staring at the inside of your closet where your little portable safe is tucked away under your winter coats and behind your boots.
"it's off?" you repeat, surprised.
"s'wot i said, innit?" d snaps. "the kraut earned 'imself an hmp 'oliday, and until we know wot's been said, it's off."
ah, shit. if that big dumb austrian's been pulled in by the police, god only knows what will happen next. he's a weird one, to be sure- when he's not playing cards and focusing on putting hands together, his thoughts are usually just... empty. nothing there at all. no stray curiosities or memories or even to-do lists. as far as you can tell, the space between his ears is vast, cavernous, and filled with fuckall.
god only knows what a man like that does and says in police custody.
"ah." the phone disconnects in response, and you sigh as you slide it back into your pocket, closing the closet door. so much for your evening plans, you guess.
you preheat your oven for a small frozen pizza as you mull over your run-in with kyle. it's encouraging that he's only replaying his nightmarish memories when he's stagnating at home- and it makes sense, you suppose. you also start thinking about rancid shit when you start feeling stir-crazy, and a man who routinely jumps out of aircraft and gets shot at probably feels restless the second he's off-base and off-duty. with any luck he found someone else to lust after, some other fat girl to follow home and work off some steam with so you can have a peaceful night with mediocre frozen pizza, a joint, and a few good documentaries.
two slices and a half a joint in, you start to feel kyle's thoughts growing louder again. he must be coming home, you reason, and take another deep toke as you brace yourself, cursing your optimism that he might go somewhere else for the night.
-even if it is french. still, could be good. can't remember the last time i read anything for fun, busy as i've been. ghost's a reader, wonder if he's read this. wonder if he liked it. was it him that was telling me about it? or was that raven? so bloody hungry, i should've gotten more than a coffee for lunch. i wonder if that girl is a regular there. i should go back tomorrow, see if i can find her again. wouldn't mind taking a bite out of her, fuck that arse really did look thick enough to sink my teeth into- a proper bite, no holding back- an image flashes in your head, a woman who looks a lot like you, but isn't you. her skin is too clear, hair too perfect, eyes just a little bigger, tits a little perkier. she's an idealized version of you, still fat and sat in the corner of the cafe, reading your book, glancing shyly over the cover.
ugh.
through kyle's eyes, you watch him approach your building, shopping bag rustling on his arm as he fishes out his keys in the lift, mentally finalizing his dinner order for tonight. fantasy-you giggles and smiles at him in both of your minds, and you take a particularly deep toke and turn up the volume on your documentary, david attenborough's voice nearly loud enough to drown out kyle's fantasies as he narrates the journey of a particularly cute looking penguin. it's somehow just enough to distract you from when he imagines you bent over the edge of his couch as he slides the key into the door, toeing off his shoes and digging out his phone to order dinner.
it's not until later, as the credit roll across your screen as orchestral music swells, that you even notice kyle's thoughts again. it's not a memory-it's too vivid- the image playing clearly in your mind: a man in a straw hat and a pale little girl walking across farmland. the little girl speaks simply of god and angels, and they pass by an abandoned church- hey, wait a second.
focusing a little more, you realize that not only is kyle reading, he's reading the same book you'd had in the coffee shop. he must've gone to a bookstore this afternoon and picked it up before heading home. closing your eyes, it's like getting a private movie of your novel, one entirely imagined by your neighbor. it's incredible how clear and realistic his imagination is, and it's better than any film adaptation could ever be. the remote finds your hand, finger instinctively turning off your television as you opt to lean back, eyes closed, head resting on the back of your couch as you let kyle's imagination illustrate your book. for once in your life, the strength of kyle's mental signal to you is an asset, allowing you to enjoy the book at the same time as him.
it's hard to say how much time passes like that, with you blissed out and dozy as you lie back and let your neighbor's imagination wash over you, but it's brought to an abrupt end as a loud knock at your door stirs you from your reverie.
through the peephole is a teenage boy clearly delivering food, little cardboard boxes adding shape to the plastic bag in his hand.
"delivery from agora." the boy says in a bored voice when you open the door.
"oh, uh, i didn't order anything, i think maybe for my neighbor-"
as if summoned, the door to number 542 opens, and your neighbor pops his head out. as the delivery driver peers at the receipt in his hand, you watch kyle's face run through a range of emotions: surprise, disbelief, confusion, and giddiness.
flashes of you on your knees, bend over his couch and smiling coyly over your shoulder, pinned to his mattress underneath him- ugh, god, it's too much too suddenly and you are way, way too high for this.
"goodnight!" you practically squeak, and as the door closes behind you, and you can practically feel kyle's rush of excitement as he stares at your door, the number burning into his memory as he takes the food from the apologetic driver.
a thought that is not of your own mind rings out loud, clear, and full of awe through your wall:
global warming will destroy everything until there’s nothing left and there’s nothing we can do about it
i refuse to accept that. and Greta Thunberg and everyone else who raised the alarm on climate change didn't spend years as the subject of grown ass adults scathing obsession in the name of a repugnant capitalist oligarchy (who would only be sad if half the world died tomorrow because it meant less people for them to squeeze for every penny they have) for you to give up this easily.
what can non-canadians do to help the people of Collins / Namaygoosisagagun? Is there a currency conversion service for donating in CAD for orgs that only accept CAD? And are there ways we can donate time/resources when we are farther away? Hope you and your loved ones are safe and well ♡
currency is converted internally by the system so the amount you donate in USD will be converted to CAD. if you're having issues with online portals, you can contact the organisation directly and they can assist you with donations over the phone. but afaik, all of them accept all major credit cards.
as of now, most organisations are only taking in monetary donations due to the overwhelming support from the local community—they ran out of space to keep everything that was donated!! 🖤
if you're not able to donate, just spreading the word is more than enough!
*Whitesands FN has specifically stated this is just for donated goods. monetary donations are still being accepted and are very much appreciated.
Doug Ford said it "a miracle nobody died" lmao like people will praise everything and everyone else before admitting that we did what we always do and took care of our own. It wasn't a miracle. It was indigenous communities helping each other. It's the people who aren't slashing budgets and telling us it's time to stop holding our hands out despite giving us nothing and passing a bill to give us even less who are opening their doors and letting us in.
Before taking off for the Assembly of Nations, officials told Chief Paavola that there was nothing to worry about, and there was no immediate danger, insisting the smoke residents were seeing came from a smoldering fire farther away.
If it wasn't for someone else alerting the community of the danger, they never would have known. No one called. No one came. The people of Collins had 40 minutes to escape before the fire would have consumed them. This isn't a miracle. It's an utter failing of the people in charge do the bare fucking minimum of their job requirements and keep people safe and informed. We have satellite imaging of the wildfires. We have over 8 different sites currently monitoring the fires. And they were told to stay put.
This isn't a miracle. It was Lyndon Paavola, Monty Frank, Scott Frank, Mitchell Huezo, Wayne Wastaken, Mikey and Ryan Wesley, Kyle MacLaurin, and Dean Goodwin making sure their community got out. It was them risking their lives to go back and get more people because the boats they had were too small. It was Chance Paavola, a 13-year-old boy, risking his own life to save his neighbours.
They were so close to the fire that they could feel the heat from the flames. They watched their community burn, and had to flee to the water because there was no other escape. It took 3 hours for Collins to burn.
If they listened to the officials and the people in power, an entire community of indigenous people would have burned to death. If they didn't have boats, they would have burned to death.
This isn't a miracle. It's an injustice. The government did nothing. They were content to let everyone die and now want to go on press tours down playing how miserably and catastrophically they failed another indigenous community on every single level.
For those of you who don't know, Canada is on fire, and Indigenous communities are being disproportionately affected by the overwhelming damage.
A few writers and I are working on setting up charity commissions where people would show proof of donations to charities such as:
Anishinabek Nation 7th Generation Charity
Ontario Native Women's Association
Mikinakoos Emergency Fund
Red Cross
True North Aid
Indigenous Climate Action
Any others with an appeal that appears on an official First Nation, Tribal Council or registered charity channel
Before we set up the commissions, we are putting out this poll to see interested numbers so that we are able to effectively decide how many commission slots we will offer and how long the commissions will be.
At the moment, we are thinking of commissions being 1,000 words maximum for 10$ minimum donated (or your local currency equivalent) but that is subject to change depending on interest. Most of us write for COD, but more information about characters/fandoms will be available when we make the official post.
Would you be interested in a Charity Commission?
Yes
No
Voting ended onJul 20
Even if you're not interested in a commission, I highly encourage you to donate if you are able to! Lev's post is a very valuable resource and source of information if you'd like to do further research.
Please reblog this post, not only for sample size but to get word out about the fires and the charities.
every dumbass making stupid posts like “ugh Canada owes us for all the smoke clogging up our air this week” needs to donate >1000$ to every first nations community being devastated by these wildfires
Namaygoosisagagun First Nation/Collins has burned to the ground. The entire community is nothing but ashes after being quickly consumed by wildfires. They did not have any support from emergency services, and no one offered aid. The community saved themselves by escaping into boats because no one came.
Mishkeegogamang and Cat Lake have lost power. Families are ending up in shelters with nothing. Armstrong, Lac La Croix, Whitesand, Gull Bay, Lac des Mille Lacs are currently in the fires path and all members are being evacuated.
All this loss, all this devastation, and it was entirely preventable.
After steadily underfunding wildland firefighting and purposefully excluding Indigenous wildland firefighters and Indigenous wildfire organizations from wildfire operations, firefighter training, decisionmaking, and resource exchanges, in 2025, Doug Ford slashed the forest firefighting budget.
It's hard to ignore his decision to cut funding and leave us out of adequate fire training (even though we've lived with forest fires for thousands of years—far longer than settlers have been in Canada—and made sure fires like the ones we're all seeing today were prevented through kinisitotēn) when, despite making up less than 5% of the population, we account for 42% percent of all wildfire evacuations in Canada.
And when we are successfully evacuated, we face discrimination and racism—like Kashechewan—because it's always been easier to blame us than it is to blame the true culprit: denialism, corportate greed, and colonization.
The people of Collins and every other impacted community deserve better.
Right now, the AFN is currently accepting donations to help Collins First Nation. If you're able to, please consider donating.
ONWA (Ontario Native Women's Association) is another great place to donate to. They have outreach vans going to motels and inns and offering food, water, resources, and cultural support to those impacted by the wildfires.
Other places to consider donating to are Mikinakoos Emergency Fund, Red Cross, True North Aid, Indigenous Climate Action. You can also send donations directly to Whitesand First Nation via e-transfer ([email protected]) and they request that you add your full name in the e-transfer comment section to receive a tax receipt.
*Before sending money, verify that the appeal appears on an official First Nation, Tribal Council or registered charity channel.
If you can't offer financial support, please consider donating items of need. Moontime Connections is currently accepting drop-off donations. If you live in the Thunder Bay area, Namaygoosisagagun Health Office is also taking in donations! They can also bemailed to Superior Inn Hotel & Conference Centre at 555 West Arthur Street, Thunder Bay, ON, P7E 5P8.
