#stop the fire

[northgazaupdates]

Heartbreaking news out of north Gaza today

We write to inform you that renowned journalist Ismail Al-Ghoul and cameraman Ramy El-Rifi of Al-Jazeera were murdered just a few hours ago by the occupation. They were going out to document the scene of another bombing attack, when they were deliberately targeted by the occupation. Footage provided by journalist Osama Al-Ashi in the immediate aftermath of the attack shows that Ismail and Ramy were murdered with targeted precision weaponry, meaning the occupation watched them, waited for them, and executed them in cold blood (warning: graphic footage).

Ismail and Ramy have been documenting the genocide at immense personal cost since the 7th of October 2023. They were previously kidnapped and tortured by the occupation, but survived and continued to remain in north Gaza and document crimes against humanity. They have had many narrow escapes, and today, the occupation was finally successful in its illegal goal of assassinating these prominent journalists.

When western journalists hand-wave their suppression of the IOF’s atrocities in Gaza by claiming no journalists are “allowed” in to report, remember these men. Remind them of these men. These men who lost friends and loved ones, who suffered immensely, and yet chose to remain and continue documenting the genocide against their people. They join the ranks of more than 150 Gazan journalists who were murdered by the occupation to hide its crimes and retaliate for speaking the truth.

حسبنا الله و نعم الوكيل

أنا لله و أنا اليه رجعون

God suffices us and he is the best disposer of affairs. We belong to God and to Him we shall return.

Keep fighting for Gaza. Don’t stop talking about north Gaza.

[muffinlance]

Hi ! prompt idea : What if Zuko was armed during the first episode and was stranded with the water tribe while the avatar left with Katara and Sokka, Iroh on his trail for white lotus reasons.

Oh we are going to have us some FUN with "stranded with the water tribe", say no more.

---

Zuko was dripping, and steaming, and staring down two dozen women and their gaggle of small children, plus that old not-the-Avatar crone from earlier. They were all cowering away from him. Which was--

Good. It was good. If they were cowering, then they hadn’t noticed how steam was not flames. He wasn’t sure he could make flames, not after the arctic water he’d landed in, with that last sight of the Avatar glowing; not after surfacing under the ice pack, after swimming, after kicking slamming breaking through and his ship was gone and there was only ocean all around and

and he’d made it back to this pathetic little camp of the Southern Water Tribe, because that was the only place he knew for sure would have shelter, and he wasn’t going to die just because they were all staring at him, even if felt like he would.

Even if the old not-the-Avatar woman could probably take him, right now. But she didn’t know that.

Zuko pulled himself up, taller than her by at least a few inches, and blew steam from his nose.

“I am commandeering one of your huts,” he said. And added, because Uncle said even a prince should be gracious: “You may choose which one.”

---

She choose her own.

...The only one without children that flames might scar, or younger women to catch a soldier’s interests.

Zuko sat by her fire and determinedly started struggling out of his wet clothes and she was still in here with him--

Zuko pulled one of her animal pelts over himself, and finished fighting off his clothes. When he stuck his head back out, cheeks still reddened from what was obviously the cold, she dropped a parka on his head.

“Dry clothes, Your Highness,” she said.

The parka was much bigger than he was. He fell asleep hoping that the camp’s men were on a long, long hunting trip.

---

He woke up again. Kanna tucked her favorite ulu knife away, newly sharpened, and stopped contemplating the alternative.

---

“I am commandeering a ship,” he said.

The crone led him across the village, all twenty paces of it, to a row of canoes.

“Take whichever one you want,” she said. “Will you need help getting it to the water?”

Zuko looked at the canoes. Looked at the ocean. Watched a leopard seal, easily the size of the largest canoe, dozing just past the ice his own ship had broken through the day before. It was frozen again, a great icy arrow pointing from the waves to the village, snow already starting to cover it over.

Beyond was blue sky and gray ocean and white ice, floating in blocks like stepping stones, like boulders, like cliffsides.

There wasn’t even a hint of gray steel, or smoke. Or any land, besides what they were standing on.

He looked down at the canoes again. Somehow, they seemed even smaller.

“I, uh,” Zuko cleared his throat. “I’ll require supplies. Before I go.”

---

They... did not have supplies. Not extra ones. This didn’t stop them from trying to give him supplies, food and blankets and anything else he could think to ask for. But each blanket was a pelt hunted by someone’s grandfather, had been inked with images and stories by someone’s mother, was the favorite of someone’s husband or brother or uncle or cousin--

They couldn’t go to the nearest market to replace things, here.

And when they talked about food, about what they could spare, they kept sneaking glances to their children, who were sneaking glances at Zuko from the huts, sticking their heads just over the snowy ledges like their fur-trimmed hoods would hide them. Their mothers and aunts shooed them away, and they crept back, like barnacle-crabs. Zuko glared, and they disappeared.

“When are your men coming back?” he asked. “They’re hunting, aren’t they?”

Oh. So that was what they looked like, when they weren’t trying to hide their hate.

---

Zuko wrapped himself up in the same blanket that night. It was printed inside with fine lines and images, telling a story he didn’t know. He wondered whose favorite it was.

---

Kanna wondered how quickly he’d wake—if he’d wake—if she built the fire up with wet driftwood and tundra grass, if she had one of the younger girls boost up a child to plug the air hole, if she let the smoke draw its own blanket down over this fire child.

---

It was hard to know when to wake up, because the sun never set. So everyone was up before him, and they all had spears and clubs and—and nets, and trap lines, and snow googles with their single slat to protect the eyes from snow blindness. Zuko had seen those once, at the Ember Island Museum of Ethnography, where they’d gone when it was too rainy for anything more exciting.

Oh. They were going hunting.

“Give me that,” Zuko said, and took a spear.

The women looked at him. One of them adjusted her googles.

“I can hunt,” he scowled.

He did not, in fact, know how to hunt.

---

“Give me that,” the Fire Prince said, and Kanna almost, almost gave him her ulu. Humans, like most animals, had an artery in their legs that would bleed them quick enough.

She kept skinning the rabbit-mink one of the women had snared.

“I can help,” he said, with less grace than most of their toddlers. Likely with the skinning skills of a toddler, too. She wasn’t going to let their unwanted visitor ruin a perfectly good pelt.

“Chop the meat,” she said, and gave him a different knife. “It’s dinner.”

“...This is really sharp,” he said a moment later, looking at the knife with some surprise.

“Is it,” said Kanna.

---

Things the Fire Prince was convinced he could do: hunt (until he realized he couldn’t tell the tracks of a rabbit-mink from a leopard-rabbit apart); spear fish (at least he could dry himself); pack snow for an igloo (frustrated princes ran hot); ice fish (the prince was a problem that kept coming close to solving itself).

Things the Fire Prince could actually do: mince meat, increasingly finely; gather berries and herbs, once he stopped trying to crush them; dig roots, under toddler supervision; mend nets, after the intermediary step of learning to braid hair loopies.

“Can’t I take him ice fishing again?” asked one of the women, as she watched Prince Zuko put as much apparent concentration into braiding her daughter’s hair as his people had into exterminating hers.

“Wait,” said another woman, sitting up straight. “Wait wait wait. I just had an idea.”

---

Three words: Infinite. Hot. Water.

---

Summer was coming to an end. The sun actually set, now, and the night was getting longer, and colder. The salmon-otter nets were mended and ready. The smoking racks were still full of cod-lemmings. The children were all a little older, the women all a little more used to doing both halves of their tribes’ chores; a little more used to not watching the horizon, waiting for help to come.

The Fire Prince was staring at the canoes again.

“Are you actually going to try leaving in one of those?” Kanna asked.

“...No.”

“Come on, then; someone needs to watch the kids while the women are hunting.”

She didn’t leave him alone with them, of course. But she could have.

---

Elsewhere, the war continued.

The moon turned red, for a moment none could sleep through; they did not learn why.

The comet came and went, leaving their castaway prince laying on the beach, his breath fogging up into the night sky above him, as the energy crashed from his system as quickly as it had come. Above, lights began to dance in the sky; Zuko pulled his hood up, so none of those spirits—children, dead too soon—got any ideas about kicking his head off to be their ball.

The war had ended. The world didn’t feel any different; no one in the south would know until spring came again.

---

Suffice it to say, Sokka and Katara were not prepared for this particular homecoming.

[shadebloopnik]

Radioapple twitter goin thru a thing rn

LIKE AMIR????

AMIR???? CHAT???? AMIR WHAT IS THIS BEHAVIOR?????

[nando161mando]

Rehabilitation, not Devastation. Fuck The Police.

[lesbianwyllravengard]

I want more female characters who are just so bad at comforting others. Not for lack of trying or caring, they just get so so awkward when someone's upset, and they try to repeat things they've heard even if it doesn't necessarily apply to the situation, or they accidentally say the wrong thing and make it worse. If someone cries they panic and throw every single comfort technique down at once and it only helps because it's such bizarre behaviour

[its-zaina]

Tokyo 🇵🇸

|

[goosologist]

(How weird! To be noticed, and known!)

[kropotkindersurprise]

February 18, 2025 - An ICE van burned down in Philly. According to ICE it was caused by mechanical failure, so lets just take this as inspiration for the next time you see an ICE vehicle. Apparently they burn pretty easily. [link]

[sadagios]

brainrotting on life series designs, so first: double life desert duo

[northgazaupdates]

Meet Mohammed

Mohammed @mohammedalhabil2000 lives with his mother Ibtisam, his sisters Noha, Abeer, and Nour. They are a loving family, but have had more than their fair share of struggles. Mohammed’s father was martyred by the occupation in its 2014 aggression. Ibtisam and Omar, Mohammed’s older brother, supported the family themselves for many years. Then, in December 2023, Omar was martyred by the occupation while he and Mohammed were out gathering firewood. Mohammed was severely injured in the same attack.

This was not the last time Mohammed was injured by IOF violence. Mohammed has been injured on four separate occasions, resulting in his left leg being critically wounded. He had to have a full cast put on, rendering him unable to move any part of his leg.

He undergoes regular physiotherapy when it is safe enough to travel to the clinic, but unfortunately this is not enough to heal his wound. Mohammed is going to require intense, specialized treatment in order to fully heal his leg and regain as full of function as possible. Due to the occupation’s systematic destruction of Gaza’s medical infrastructure, this cannot be done in Gaza.

Mohammed will need to travel abroad to treat his leg, which will be a complex and expensive proposition. Just passing from Gaza into Egypt costs thousands of dollars, not to mention the costs of lodging, food, medication, and medical appointments. He is trying to raise funds so that when the border reopens, he will be able to arrange passage into Egypt, and begin his journey to fully healing.

His family is already struggling to survive, relying on mutual aid for food and other basic necessities. They lost their home due to IOF attack, and none of them are able to work. This means Mohammed has no way to pay for his travel and treatment costs without your support.

Please help Mohammed be able to afford the treatment he needs

Thank you❤️❤️

[sevrinve]

bedtime

[amateur-weatherman]

[jojolightningfingers]

the specific tragedy of marineford's events aside ace is just a wild character to watch. he's the coolest big brother on the seas. he's a fucking dork. he's hated himself his whole life. he goes around tits out all day every day. it's because he's tattooed his devotion to whitebeard on his back and wants everyone to see it. he can solo a buffalo with a metal pipe at age 10. he cannot shut up about luffy even when he's in jail waiting to die. he's narcoleptic. he's a serial dine-n-dasher. he's the patron saint of daddy issues. he learns manners specifically to thank shanks for saving luffy. he's kinda shit at them. he doesn't run from fights. he doesn't let himself run from fights. he doesn't think he CAN run from fights. he crashes a party on buggy's ship out of nowhere and steals the food. he infiltrates a marine base and doesn't even bother to hide the very recognizable tattoo on his arm. he steals THEIR food. he immediately blows his cover because he decks the shit out of someone for dissing his captainfather. he's still eating while he gives them the slip. he goes to kill kaido and bonds with his son instead. he knows how to make a kasa. he forgets he's fire and keeps accidentally burning them. the narrative doomed him and yet his love and the love for him refuses to die. the world loathes him on an existential level. he chooses to be kind to the people in it, even so.

[palms-upturned]

Frustrates me to no end seeing people say “what’s your alternative to voting blue? Stage a revolution right now? This second? Get real, you’re posting on your computer instead of firebombing walmarts.” I don’t think that you understand what people are actually doing. I know for myself, I’ve been reading more history and theory than I ever have before. I’ve been marching. I’ve been getting involved with labor activism. I’ve been doing strategic research. I’ve tried to archive and share resources. I’ve watched other people do WAY more than I ever have or probably could. I’ve seen people occupy arms manufacturing sites and hold wildcat strikes and disrupt daily life as much as possible. We’ve all seen this happening at unprecedented levels for months now. And most of all, I’ve seen Palestinians telling us, rightfully full of anger, do not ever go back to how things were before. Do not turn away from what’s happening and your own complicity in it.

This is not something that we can vote our way out of. Our state is built on the same violence being inflicted on the people of Palestine. We helped to build Israel. We are still arming it and funding the “war” right now. Even the most half hearted measures from international bodies like the UN to take the bare minimum of a stance against genocide are quashed by the US. As they always have been, our power and resources are used to reinforce imperial and colonial hegemony. That remains the same no matter who is sitting in the Oval Office. And so does our own struggle for liberation. Meaningful change is never, ever going to come from within. We force the change to happen, as we always have.

If you can understand intersectionality, then surely you can understand this: we are not going to free ourselves by sacrificing colonized people. You may vote blue, and for you it could be a matter of life and death. Believe me, as a poor disabled person in a red state who almost killed myself over medical debt, I know the stakes. But I think you have to own the fact that you are empowering perpetrators of genocide and breaking solidarity with colonized people, not even to liberate yourself, but just to bargain with the oppressor for your life. That Palestinians and everyone else who we have harmed are going to be angry and they are more than within their rights. Instead of deflecting by just assuming that no one else is capable of putting their money where their mouth is and actually trying to lay groundwork for change, just do whatever you feel you have to do and sit with the reality of the situation.

Palestine will be free, we will be free, the whole world will someday be free. But for now, this is where we are, and we won’t free ourselves by operating like crabs in a bucket. Get organized, take care of each other, commit to solidarity. Empower yourself and each other rather than the state.

[captain-flint]

Tommy 'my priority is Evan' Kinard

[epicfirestormer]

Go watch Nimona, it's really good