Hello!

I'm talkin white people selling rattles and dream catchers, white people banging First Nations style drums, white people teaching talking stick workshops, that kinda shit

So what do you do when you see this crap? How do you show your disapproval in a way that makes them give a shit?

I'll tell you what I do. The point is to show them that appropriating Indigenous cultures will lose them customers.

When I see fakey Native art I say something like "Oh wow, you make dreamcatchers! What nation are you from?" (Use tribe in the states)

I used to ask point blank if they were Native, but I'd nearly always get some Cherokee great grandmother bullshit, or even "I'm not sure, I could have some Native in me!"

Most of the time they don't know what I'm talking about, because they're not Native and don't know that this is a very normal thing to ask when meeting another Native.

When they ask me what I mean I say "I mean your tribe, which First Nation are you from?"

This is the point where they sheepishly mumble that they are not First Nations.

I let my face fall and say something like "Oh. That's disappointing" or "Wow. Unfortunate."

I let it get awkward. And then I leave, shaking my head in disapproval.

You may feel like you need to educate them on cultural appropriation but here's the thing: it's 2025. They know. Brenda the middle class reiki shaman is FULLY aware that her smudge fans are stolen culture. She doesn't care. The only way to make them care is to hit them where it hurts: the wallet.

Make them think that you would have purchased what they are selling if it was AUTHENTIC.

If you wanna go the extra mile send an email to the organizers, in your best white people voice, and tell them that you are disappointed that they are facilitating culture theft.

"But I'm not the greatest bender!"

"Just because we're benders!"

Clean Sweep by @theburialofstrawberries | 29K | Shane’s brain cycled rapidly through a half-dozen celebrities, porn actors, Grindr profiles, every attractive bartender who’d ever served him a beer, trying to find a comparison for this level of outrageously concentrated beauty in one person, but he was drawing a blank. The man—Ilya Rozanov, Facilities Attendant, his badge read—gestured around the supply closet. “I help you find something?”| I'm pretty sure everyone and their mother has already read this, because it spread like wildfire through my circle...if you have been living under a rock, somehow, this is  a canon-divergent AU set during the 2017-18 MLH season. Shane is Shane and Ilya is a janitor. This is totally going to be a classic in the fandom! So, SO good. Amazing characterisation and I love how the author remixed the main beats of canon and all the slight and big changes in this AU really work.

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Pencil in the Rest | 87K | Scent patches were mandatory for anyone participating in World Junior's, but a lot of the Russian guys Shane saw in the hotel or around the rink had them loosely attached to their necks or not quite centered over their scent gland. Shane had been on his way to his parents' car when the wind shifted, and he smelled that Rozanov, leaning against the wall and not-at-all-surreptitiously fishing a carton of cigarettes out of his pocket, must have been one of them.| Omegaverse with fully realised world-building and great characterisation. Excellent use of the soulmate trope. Unputdownable.And I say it as someone who's usually meh on both these tropes.

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clouds in my coffee | 7.4K | A scandal breaks. Rose drives to Ottawa, to be not-alone.| A fic in which Rose gets some of the care and comfort she deserves.

When I Walk Into The Room, I Do Not Light It Up. Fuck. | 12.2K  | Transitions are hard for Shane. Joining his husband's team turns out not to be an exception to that rule.| Shane struggles to adapt to Ottawa. Amazing Shane POV. Lots of hockey, which makes it all much more grounded and interesting.

Here it is again. You might want to save it just in case an accident like that happens again

Simple question, right?

Except… he suddenly got defensive. His tone changed. I could feel tension building, and I had no idea why. So I took a breath and asked, “Wait, what did you hear me say?”

He paused, thought about it, and said, “I thought you meant ‘Why aren’t you doing anything?’ Like you were mad I was being lazy.”

But that wasn’t what I meant at all. I’d genuinely just been curious.

And that moment reminded me how easily things can go sideways when we assume intent. Our brains, especially when we’ve had messy pasts, trauma, or relationship anxiety, tend to fill in the blanks with the worst possible meaning.

But that one question, “What did you hear me say?”, turned what could’ve been an argument into understanding.

It gave both of us a chance to clarify before our brains made up a story that wasn’t true. I was able to explain, and he was able to listen. Understanding what I meant changed his tension entirely.

Sometimes the fight isn’t about what was said. It’s about what was heard.

dont care

dont care

dont care

what the actual fuck

dont care

ooh that sounds- what the fuck

unfinished

don't care

the best fic ive ever read in my life. this absolutely ruined me and ill never be the same ever again

—

PBS: Language as Prejudice - Myth #6: Women Talk Too Much (via misandry-mermaid)

Every EVERY women’s studies class I’ve been in has had this problem and failed to address it.