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"Members of the Teamsters union went on strike at Amazon early Thursday in a labor action at seven facilities in four states coast to coast just ahead of the holiday gift-giving rush.
Amazon said that its operations will not be affected by any of the union’s actions. Although the Teamsters claim to represent 7,000 Amazon workers nationwide, that accounts for less than 1% of the company’s US workforce."
"Amazon shows no indication it is willing to reach a deal with the Teamsters or even recognizes that the union speaks for any of its workers, despite the union declaring that employees at numerous Amazon facilities have signed cards asking to join."
"The Tech Guild is asking readers to honor the digital picket line and not play popular NYT Games such as Wordle and Connections as well as not use the NYT Cooking app."
Hello World, we’d like to introduce ourselves. We the workers of the Magic: The Gathering Arena team have come together to unionize as United Wizards of the Coast - CWA!
We are game makers, storytellers, artists, and creative technicians, and we are passionate about the work we do.
However, to continue creating games that you, the players, enjoy, the reality is that we must change how we are treated as employees by Hasbro & Wizards of the Coast.
Unionizing, in partnership with Communication Workers of American CWA, is how we ensure better protections, compensation, and a seat at the table for the future of the game we have made successful.
Hit the link for our full statement, other socials, ways to contact UWOTC reps, and more.
Together we will build the games industry we want to see. Support by sharing our posts, celebrating our work, & calling on Hasbro & WOTC to voluntarily recognize our union!
United Wizards of the Coast is the union of workers behind Magic: The Gathering Arena, organizing in partnership with the Communications Wor
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As long as you are a worker — not an employer — you can join the IWW. Members of other unions (except officers), students, retirees, the unemployed, the self-employed, those in informal professions, and those unable to work may also join. To us, you are all workers.
There is a difference in interests at work between employees and employers. Even if someone doesn’t own the business, if they have real hiring and firing power over other workers then they count as an employer to us.
By restricting our membership to only workers we make it easier to act in solidarity with other people at your job and improve your working conditions. If you are a worker then you belong in the IWW with us!
Find more information about joining your local branch at iww.org/membership.
Summary: Seongje’s gentle girlfriend protects timid Juntae from Hyoman, and later, Seongje himself steps in to defend Juntae—showing the Union that for her, he’d do anything.
Geum Seongje x reader
A/N: nothing to add here
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The Union had teeth. Everyone in the city knew that. Their name carried weight, whispered with respect or dread depending on who was speaking. And at the center of that name was Seongje — feared, respected, and unbending. He was the kind of man who made a room fall silent just by walking into it.
And then there was you. His girlfriend.
On paper, it made no sense: you, all warmth and softness, someone who could coax laughter out of even the coldest member of the group; and him, razor-sharp, cold-eyed, a man who trusted no one but you. But somehow, that contrast was exactly why it worked. Where he brought the iron, you brought the silk. Where he froze, you thawed.
And because you were with him, you knew everything about the Union. He didn’t keep secrets from you. He never felt the need to. And though you weren’t blind to the darker parts of their world, you loved him — all of him. Maybe that’s why the other Union boys adored you too. You weren’t naïve, but you were kind to them in ways they rarely experienced. When Seongje’s sharp stare had them stiff and nervous, your gentle smile reminded them that not everyone next to him had to be made of stone.
You were on your way to the bowling alley that night, the familiar neon lights glowing faintly in the distance, when you heard voices down a side street.
“Come on, you really that useless?”
You knew that tone. Sneering, sharp. You slowed, peering around the corner — and your stomach tightened when you saw them.
Hyoman, shoulders hunched like a hyena, had his hand clutched in the collar of a smaller boy. Juntae.
You’d seen him before, a handful of times. He wasn’t Union material, not in the way others were. Too timid, too hesitant, like he carried an apology in every step. And that made him an easy target.
Hyoman shoved him against the wall. “What, you too weak to even talk back? Pathetic.”
Something in you snapped.
“Hyoman.”
Your voice cracked through the air like a whip. The two boys froze, heads turning toward you.
Hyoman’s smirk faltered. “Oh, it’s you.” He tried to recover, straightening up, but there was a flicker of unease in his eyes. Everyone knew who you were. Seongje’s girlfriend. And Seongje’s girlfriend meant untouchable.
Still, his pride made him sneer. “What, you come to rescue your new little puppy?”
You strode closer, your expression flat, cold. It wasn’t often you let yourself be harsh, but you could when you needed to. And this? This was worth it.
“I don’t like weak men picking on someone smaller than them,” you said, voice sharp. “You think this makes you look strong? It makes you look pathetic. And you know what else it makes you look like?” You tilted your head. “Like someone who will never belong to the Union.”
Hyoman stiffened, his jaw working. He didn’t like the way you said it — not with fear, but with disgust.
“Tch. Whatever. Not worth it,” he muttered, shoving his hands in his pockets. But his eyes flicked nervously around, as if expecting Seongje himself to appear any second. And with that fear lodged in his chest, he backed off and left.
You turned immediately to Juntae, softening your expression. “Hey. You okay?”
He hesitated, swallowing hard. His eyes darted to you, then away, as if he wasn’t sure if he should even look directly at you. “Y-Yeah. I… I think so.”
You smiled gently, offering your hand. He blinked at it before slowly taking it, letting you help him steady himself.
“Don’t let him get under your skin,” you said kindly. “Hyoman just likes to bark. That’s all he’s good at. If he tries again, let me know. Or…” you smiled faintly, “better yet, let Seongje know. He wouldn’t even get the chance to touch you.”
Juntae’s eyes widened a little. The idea of Seongje even noticing him — let alone protecting him — seemed surreal. But still, he nodded quickly. “Th-Thank you.”
“Anytime.”
The bowling alley was alive with laughter and chatter when you walked in. The boys immediately perked up when they spotted you.
“Noona!” one of them called, waving.
“You made it!” another grinned.
“Yah, she looks way too good to be here with us,” one teased, earning laughter from the others.
You laughed softly, waving back at them all as you weaved through the crowd. They always greeted you warmly — not out of obligation, but because you were genuinely kind to them. They all saw the way you looked after Seongje, and in turn, after them in little ways.
And then you spotted him.
Seongje sat back against the sofa like a king on his throne, cigarette burning low between his fingers, eyes half-lidded but sharp. The second he saw you, though, his gaze softened. The corner of his mouth twitched upward in the smallest of smiles.
You slid in beside him, nestling into his side. His arm immediately draped over your shoulders, pulling you close.
“You’re late,” he murmured.
“Got caught up.” You tilted your head up at him. “I saw Hyoman on the way.”
His gaze sharpened. “Hyoman?”
“Mm. He was bothering someone. Juntae.”
His brows furrowed. “That kid?”
You nodded, sighing. “He looked terrified. I stepped in, but… I just feel bad for him, Seongje. He doesn’t deserve that.”
He exhaled smoke, watching you closely. You could tell he was turning it over in his mind, weighing it, deciding how much it mattered. To him, Juntae was nothing. Not Union, not worth his time. But to you? It clearly mattered. And for him, that was enough to plant a seed.
“Mm. I’ll keep it in mind,” he murmured.
You smiled, leaning in to kiss his cheek. “Thank you.”
From across the room, one of the boys called out teasingly, “Hyung, you’re so whipped!”
The others burst out laughing, and even you couldn’t help but giggle. Seongje just gave them a flat look, but the faint pink in his ears betrayed him.
“Shut up and bowl,” he muttered, tightening his arm around you as if to prove his point.
When Seongje saw Hyoman again a few days later, shoving Juntae against a wall, he felt irritation pulse through his veins.
He could have walked past. Normally, he would have. Juntae wasn’t his business. Not Union. Not anyone important.
But your voice echoed in his head. He looked terrified. I just feel bad for him, Seongje.
That softness in your eyes, the way you’d pressed closer when you said it — he wanted to keep that look on your face. Always.
So he stepped in.
“Hyoman.”
The name cut through the air. Hyoman froze, hands dropping from Juntae’s shirt as if burned.
Seongje’s stare was ice cold. “Still picking on someone weaker than you? That’s the only way you feel strong?”
“Hyung—I was just—”
His fist cracked across Hyoman’s face before he could finish. Blood sprayed. Hyoman stumbled, clutching his jaw.
Hyoman glared, but fear swam beneath it. “Why do you even care? He’s not Union!”
Seongje’s lips curled into a smirk, sharp and dangerous. “Because my girl cares.” His voice dropped. “And that’s enough for me.”
Another punch, harder this time. Hyoman collapsed against the wall, groaning. When he scrambled away, it wasn’t with bravado — it was with fear.
Silence lingered.
Juntae stood frozen, trembling, eyes wide. He looked at Seongje like he wasn’t sure whether to run or bow.
“...You okay?” Seongje finally asked.
Juntae nodded quickly, words tripping over themselves. “Y-Yes, thank you. I—”
“Don’t thank me,” Seongje cut him off. “Thank her.” He shoved his hands back in his pockets and walked off, leaving Juntae trembling but safe.
Inside, though, he thought of you. Of your smile when he told you. Of the way your face would light up because he’d done something that mattered to you. And that thought alone made his fists ache less.
That night, when he came home, you were curled on the couch, waiting for him.
“You’re still awake?” he asked softly, leaning down to kiss your temple.
“Couldn’t sleep without you,” you murmured, tugging him down beside you.
He watched you for a moment, then said, “Saw Juntae today.”
Your eyes widened. “You did?”
“Hyoman was on him again. I took care of it.”
You blinked, processing. “You… you did that for me?”
“Of course.” He cupped your cheek, thumb brushing over your skin. “You wanted him safe. That’s enough.”
Your heart swelled, tears pricking at the edges of your eyes. “I love you.”
He kissed you, slow and certain. “I’d do anything for you. Don’t ever forget that.”
