#maritime workers

[alabingo]

2023: INEC signs MoU with road, maritime workers for deployment of election materials

2023: INEC signs MoU with road, maritime workers for deployment of election materials

Our reporter| Ahead the 2023 general elections, the Independent National Electoral Commission (INEC) on Tuesday signed a revised memorandum of understanding (MoU) with the National Union of Road Transport Workers (NURTW), the National Association of Road Transport Owners (NARTO), and the Maritime Workers Union of Nigeria (MWUN). The MoU is to facilitate the successful deployment of personnel and…

[macmanx]

Revels Cayton, a Black, straight steward who became an MCS official, told historian Allan Bérubé how the union worked to address this situation. “In 1936 we developed this slogan: It’s anti-union to red-bait, race-bait, or queen-bait. We also put it another way: If you let them red-bait, they’ll race-bait, and if you let them race-bait, they’ll queen-bait. That’s why we all have to stick together.”

‘We Took Care of Each Other’: A Maritime Union’s Hidden History of Gay-Straight and Interracial Solidarity

Decades before the modern LGBTQ+ movement, a small but militant union of maritime workers on the West Coast with openly gay members and leaders coined a slogan linking discrimination against gay men, racial discrimination, and red-baiting. For the better part of two decades, the Marine Cooks and Stewards Union fought discrimination on the ships where its members worked and in society, until it was crushed by the same corporate and government forces that tried to destroy the United Electrical Workers (UE) during the Cold War.

The Marine Cooks and Stewards Union (MCS) was formed in 1901 by the workers who waited on passengers, carried bags, cleaned rooms, cooked meals, and served drinks on the passenger and cruise ships that provided both travel and leisure for the middle and upper classes. They fed crews and washed the dishes and pots and pans on ships of all types. They faced grueling conditions, often being forced to work 16 hours a day, seven days a week, with no overtime pay, and sleeping in substandard quarters they called “floating tenements.”

Many of the cooks and stewards were Black and Asian, but MCS, like too many unions at the time, restricted membership to white workers. And although a high percentage of the cooks and stewards were “queens,” as gay men preferred to call themselves at the time, the union rarely if ever stood up for them when they were taunted—or “queen-baited”—by straight workers.

Read their story:

[raptureshots]

working. on like actual art but take a mini Atlas... for ur troubles.. heartemoji

[georgefairbrother]

This week in 1966, (May 22nd), the Labour government of Harold Wilson declared a State of Emergency, one week into a strike by UK merchant mariners. This would provide the legal power to, amongst other things, cap food prices, and allow the Royal Navy to take control of shipping in British harbours. The Prime Minister told the House of Commons that such powers would not be used unless absolutely necessary, stating, "The government must protect the vital interests of the nation. This is not action against the National Union of Seamen."

International shipping had all but ground to a halt. Around 40 million pounds worth of exports were tied up, and both freight and passenger services were paralysed. As soon as the Queen Mary arrived in Southampton from New York carrying 850 passengers, 900 crew members immediately stopped work. (It's interesting to note the passenger-crew ratio, which speaks volumes about the state of transatlantic shipping at that time).

One of the union's demands was a reduction in working hours from 56 to 40 hours per week. Minister of Labour Ray Gunter conceded that pay and general working conditions for seamen needed to be modernised, but argued that the overtime claims that would inevitably result from the change in conditions the union was demanding, would derail the government’s attempts at wage restraint and their fight against inflation.

A week later, on May 28th, the Prime Minister upped the rhetoric, alleging that Communists were using the strike to gain influence over the National Union of Seamen. He said they were "endangering the security of the industry and the economic welfare of the nation". Not all of the governing Labour Party approved of Harold Wilson's new hard-line approach, but the strike then quickly ended, following a compromise between the union and shipowners, and the government’s commitment to set up an inquiry into employment conditions for merchant mariners.

(Main Source; BBC News)

[betty-bourgeoisie]

Like, I am very pro labor, and I am less than thrilled at the way Biden is handling the situation with the railway unions right now, but I also think people on here are really missing the complexity of the situation because:

a) Biden didn't stop railroad workers from striking because he wants corporations to make money from Christmas shopping (I mean I'm sure that's part of it, but it's absolutely not his main consideration). He stopped them from striking because our railroad systems transport basic necessities like food, medication, and medical supplies throughout the country and if the trains stop running for too long people -mostly poor & disabled people- will die from it.

B) Railroad workers being over worked right now is the result of decades worth of bad policy that have lead to sever worker shortages. Most blue collar transportation and shipping industry jobs require significant amounts of training and licensing to be done properly and in a way that doesn't accidentally kill the workers . The trade schools that teach these skills have gone underfunded and ignored in educational policy for ages in favor of subsidizing four year universitys and have left us in a place where we don't have enough teachers to educate new workers at the rates we need. There is, unfortunately, no real solution to this issue that won't take at least another decade to resolve. This isn't the fault of the workers, and they shouldn't have to pay for the choice other people made with their own time and bodies, but it is the reality of the situation.

If you call railroad workers essential labor then you have to understand what that actually means. Their work isn't just essential to businesses it's essential to you. It's essential to your daily life and you could not live comfortably without it. You have to understand that if you want to understand why the threat of a railroad strike is being handled this way.

[iww-gnv]

Article date: September 30, 2024

NEW YORK -- The union representing U.S. dockworkers has signaled that 45,000 members will walk off the job at midnight, kicking off a massive strike likely to shut down ports across the East and Gulf coasts. The coming work stoppage threatens to significantly snarl the nation's supply chain, potentially leading to higher prices and delays for households and businesses if it drags on for weeks. That's because the strike by members of the International Longshoremen's Association could cause 36 ports — which handle roughly half of the goods shipped into and out of the U.S. — to shutter operations. ILA confirmed over the weekend that its members would hit the picket lines at 12:01 a.m. Tuesday. In a Monday update, the union continued to blame the United States Maritime Alliance, which represents the ports, for continuing to “to block the path” towards an agreement before the contract deadline. “The Ocean Carriers represented by USMX want to enjoy rich billion-dollar profits that they are making in 2024, while they offer ILA Longshore Workers an unacceptable wage package that we reject," ILA said in a prepared statement. “ILA longshore workers deserve to be compensated for the important work they do keeping American commerce moving and growing." ILA also accused shippers of “gouging their customers" with sizeable price increases for containers over recent weeks. The union said that this will result in increased costs for American consumers.

Read the rest here.

[constructionsafetynetwork]

Safety in Maritime Construction Projects

Safety in maritime construction projects is a critical concern that encompasses unique environmental, logistical, and operational challenges. This article aims to shed light on the specific safety measures required in maritime construction, highlighting why it’s crucial to address these distinct aspects for the successful completion of projects. Unique Risks in Maritime Construction In maritime…

[solemntitty]

i've watched enough brick immortar to never work in anything maritime tbh

[jaxtians02]

Maritime Workers Compensation | Obryanlaw.net

Worker's compensation can affect maritime workers the same way it does on land, but the Jones Act may be more helpful in many situations. learn more here Maritime Workers Compensation

Maritime Workers Compensation

[obryanlawblog99]

Maritime Workers Compensation | Obryanlaw.net

Worker's compensation can affect maritime workers the same way it does on land, but the Jones Act may be more helpful in many situations. learn more here Maritime Workers Compensation

Maritime Workers Compensation

[obsessivevoidkitten]

Dishonorably Discharged and Detained

Alpha Shark Man x Gender Neutral Omega Reader (CW: Dubcon, a/b/o, omega reader, DILF, size difference, shark man, merman, biting, marking, claiming, heat cycles, breeding, kidnapping, force fed reader, reader is briefly shocked by an electric fence, general yandere behavior) Word Count: 4.7k (18 minutes into March and already a fic is posted! This was written as a birthday gift for a friend, happy birthday, you know who you are, my longest friendship and trusted confidant. I hope you all enjoy this. Also I tagged this as a merman because I think it qualifies, even without a fish tail a person who is part fish counts. I will die on this hill.)

The dreadnought you were on sailed at a fair pace, ever forward, back to your base. It had been deployed to the front but the battle was over before you even had a chance to arrive, enemy presence in the area had been way overestimated and your unit had not been needed. The sea ahead of you lie calm and serene, the sun scintillating off the surface of the water and the salty breeze kissed your skin, feeling pleasant in your stuffy uniform. You were second in command of the ship directly behind Admiral Reeves, you were an omega but with hard work and perseverance you had managed to defy all expectations of what an omega could be, ranking higher than many alphas your age. This caused some issues when you had first achieved your current rank, but over time you had gained the respect and obedience of those under you as well as the respect of your superiors. You had become invaluable to Admiral Reeves both as a hard worker, a motivator of the troops, and even a strategist he could always call upon for a second opinion when planning on how to engage an enemy force or escape a harrowing situation. That wasn’t to say things were completely easy for you, whenever you were docked or dealing with other service members that were not in your unit you always had to stand strong against harassment and catcalls. And being constantly surrounded by so many alphas, and the pheromones that accompanied them, could sometimes make you more than a bit dizzy. Admiral Reeves’ pheromones were among the most potent, he was not a regular human like most of your peers. He was a shark man. A hybrid species that had been genetically engineered decades ago to help humans explore the seas and get an advantage in maritime combat. Reeves’ heritage was obvious. His sharp teeth, the fin on his back, webbed fingers, gills at the base of his neck, and pale blue skin giving him away to any who saw him. He was likely in his early fifties, it was slightly hard to tell though given he wasn’t completely human, but his short hair had an attractive peppering of grey. As mentioned previously his pheromones were much stronger than an average alpha’s. Probably because he was significantly larger than a normal human. It made being an omega near him all the time slightly difficult, but the main difficulty was that sometimes his cool headed handle on his instincts slipped a bit and he could be just a slight bit overprotective of you. He never disrespected you or questioned your ability to carry out your duties though. After enjoying a few minutes of sunlight and salty sea air you began to make your way back below deck to the dorsal side of the bow where the bridge was contained, you had to make contact with the mainland and give them your coordinates and estimated time of arrival. But before you could even leave the deck a sudden explosion sent you flying. You remained conscious just long enough to notice your right arm and leg were bleeding. You tried to get up but within seconds you collapsed. The next few weeks were a blur that you were almost entirely unconscious for, with only brief fragments of confused awareness. You remembered seeing medics above you, you remember a moment of being in the ship’s medical bay as the ship weaponry fired, and you remembered being awake several times briefly in a hospital bed. When you finally, REALLY, woke up you were in significant pain. Your arm and leg that you had seen bleeding were both in a cast with your leg suspended, your vision was a bit blurry, and your head was throbbing. You had great trouble concentrating, it took great effort to collect yourself and assess your situation. You were no longer in the ship’s medical bay and there were no windows in your room, it seemed very minimalist. Probably a military hospital on base. There was nothing really much you could do other than just try to relax and let yourself heal, eventually a nurse walked in and immediately rushed over to you to check your vitals and ask you a few questions to make sure you were fully aware and awake. After doing so she hurriedly rushed out, staff was under strict orders to notify Reeves the second that you were awake. Since the ship you had been stationed on, The Sentinel, was docked for repairs Reeves was currently at the naval base that you were receiving treatment from and it did not take long for him to be notified about your updated condition and come speeding to your side. You could tell immediately by his scent he had not been getting much sleep and he had been more than a bit anxious. Not surprising, probably lost some good soldiers in that battle and then having to wait as the ship was repaired or for him to get a new assignment was probably pretty stressful. You could have never imagined that the reason for his recent distress had actually been your hospitalization. But it had affected him in ways he would not have thought previously possible. He stood beside you with a huge grin on his face. On anyone and to anyone else it may have been frightful, given the sharp nature of his teeth, but you knew it was a good sign. “Nice to see you awake after you’ve been lazing about in bed for a few weeks, haha,” he joked with his typical sense of humor before his face got grim and he took on a more solemn tone, “But... in all seriousness… It’s good to see you’re okay. We lost some good ones in that attack. Sunk the bastards that did it though.” You took a moment of silence before breaking the tension. “Don’t worry, fish breath, after a short recovery I will be their worst nightmare. I will sink their entire navy myself.” Reeves hastily hid a worried expression at the thought of you returning to duty, you didn’t know what the expression was for but it was probably just a bit of stress piercing through that rough exterior of his. “Heh, yeah. I’m sure. The little pipsqueak is gonna have them all on the ropes. They’ll piss themselves,” he chuckled heartily, though it sounded just a wee bit forced. After some small talk and him telling you about the casualties and general condition of everything he reluctantly left, after the nurse shooed him away to let you rest. For the next 5 to 6 weeks it seemed like resting was all you could really do and by the time you were ready to be released and begin physical therapy to get back to tip top shape you were really ready to get out of bed. Over the course of your recovery Reeves continued to visit you, really just about everyday that he could, to see how you were progressing and he seemed to be increasingly anxious about you returning to duty. Now that you were out of bed that anxiety seemed too palpable for you to ignore and finally, after he had given you a nervous look when you mentioned your excitement to be seaworthy right as The Sentinel was nearly ready to depart, you decided to just ask him about it. “It may just be me but… it seems like you don’t really want me back on duty…” “What that’s crazy!” he said in a manner that had you wholly unconvinced. You crossed your arms, tilted your head slightly, and stared at him with an expression that said “really?” He sighed deeply before finally admitting outright what he had been thinking since the moment you had been taken to the ship’s med bay. “Look… I know you are a talented sailor but… are you sure you should keep doing this?” You were stunned, mouth agape in shock, but he took your silence as an opportunity to press forward with his line of logic. “I mean… you have a smaller frame than anyone else. The doctors did not know if you would survive at first and the doctors said that even a beta, let alone an alpha, with a larger body would not have been so damaged by the blast or so endangered by the blood loss,” once he started saying all this the words just seemed to spill out of his mouth, like he had been damming them up and it had finally burst allowing him to unleash a torrent of his thoughts on the matter. There was of course much more to it than that, he was in love with you, but even if he had been honest about not wanting you back in combat he could not be completely honest with you or with himself on why exactly he was so adamant. You were speechless a moment more before becoming absolutely indignant. “SEVERAL people passed away in that battle, and all of them were all alphas, war doesn’t spare anyone!” Normally someone speaking to their direct superior in such a manner would be reprimanded but you were beyond caring at this point. “That may be true, but being smaller and more fragile doesn’t help your chances. And you have always been a bit accident prone…” Not an entirely unwarranted criticism, you did tend to be a bit accident prone, though all of those were minor injuries, nothing serious until now, but having enemy ammunition go off near you was hardly your fault and anyone, regardless of body or constitution, would have been injured by such a situation. Incredulous at his comments you stormed off, he called out behind you but you kept going on. That night you didn’t get much rest and you were irritable the next morning. But that did not compare you to the anger you had when you reported in the next morning and had Reeves tell you that he did not want you working with him anymore, he wanted you off the ship working in a safer non-combat capacity. You just stormed off once again to get reassigned to another combat ship. It didn’t have to be glamorous, it could be a fucking submarine for all you cared. It hurt, and it hurt bad, that you would not be with your former crew, or with the leader you had grown to consider a friend, but in battle was where you were meant to be. You put in for reassignment and vacillated between anger, grief, and feelings of betrayal for the remainder of the day. As at the end of everyday you made your way to the omega barracks. You were the only one using them currently, unlike on the ships there were fresh recruits trained on site so separate sleeping arrangements were made. It was hard but eventually you managed to push your raging emotions aside and go to sleep. Reeves had heard about your reassignment, he figured you might be difficult. Instead of asking for a non-combative position you had of course just let them reassign you to another dreadnought. He couldn’t just tank your career to get you out of the front lines, you had too impeccable of a record for anyone to believe that and too many sailors that would vouch for you, no, he would have to instead use his ties to have you erased completely. The shark was a very high ranking admiral with ties to the intelligence agencies and it was within his power to do such a thing, considering you had no civilian friends or family to poke around, and anyone in the navy who might poke around could easily be brushed off or told that you had passed away in the line of duty. So in the dead of night you were disappeared. Operatives quickly snuck in and made their way to your sleeping form, quickly injecting you with a serum that would keep you completely unconscious for many hours and then shoving you into a black sack. You woke up from probably what could be described as the deepest and most fulfilling sleep you had ever known, and then you looked around and realized that you were most certainly not where you had gone to sleep. Gone were the rows of bunk beds that had filled the small omega barracks room, replaced by a small room without any windows, blank walls, and harsh lights. It all seemed very… antiseptic. Too clean. Too empty. You went to the door, which had a small barred hole window, and tried to open it, but it was completely sealed with no way to open it without the key. But you were stubborn and shouted a few curses while trying to force it open anyway. This proved to be a mistake, as it summoned your captor. Reeves. “Admiral!? What the fuck!?! Where are we? Why am I being detained?” He looked at you and with a regretful sigh said, “You just… wouldn’t listen to reason. And I couldn’t lose you.” “My god… You’re absolutely insane! You can’t just cage me up like I am some sort of animal just because I don’t want to live my life how you want me to!” “I AM NOT INSANE!! You refused to see reason! I love you and couldn’t have you in danger anymore and you just wanted to charge in and get hurt. Your injury was a sign that it needed to stop. YOU NEED TO BE SAFE!” You flinched back, unaccustomed to him being so loud and angry. At seeing you recoil his face softened and his tone became much more quiet. “Look, you’ll get used to it here okay? I know the room is a bit bare but we can put whatever you want in here, okay? The war will be over soon and I will be able to be home and then you can move in with me.” You looked down, angry and depressed and betrayed, unable to meet his gaze. Finally he sighed heavily and mumbled that he would have someone bring you some food but he had to go. That’s largely how life went for you there for roughly a year. Facility staff would take care of your day to day needs and every few months, or sometimes weeks, you would get a visit from Reeves. Each time he would offer you some gift or trinket, repeating his confessions of love and care for you. He gave you sweets, blankets, plushies, flowers, and various other things. The blankets and plushies were scented by him, in typical courting fashion, but no matter what the item was you shoved it in the farthest corner of the room. Except the sweets, they would have expired, so instead you would immediately throw them at him. Reeves was more than distraught, not only were his attempts to advance a relationship with you not succeeding, but the friendship you had before was totally eroded. Till, the most important thing above all else was that you remained safe, and once the war ended, which would be any day now, he would be able to move you to his house and take care of you daily himself. When the war was finally over and the time had come for you to be transported to your new happy home with your captor and the destroyer of your life you fought the personnel that were trying to put you in the transport van that had been loaded with all of your things tooth and claw. Literally. You clawed and bit everyone who got near you, you would rather live in a boring glorified cage for the rest of your life than be in a house with Reeves. Finally they had you held down by multiple men and once again injected with a sedative. And, just like a somewhat uncertain amount of months previously, you woke up in a strange room. This time on a couch though. A blanket had been lovingly put on top of you and a soft pillow placed behind your head. This was obviously Reeves’ house. Unlike last time you had been informed of your destination before being abducted. It appeared you were in a modified basement, you looked around, searching for anything that may be useful as a weapon. Sadly, it seemed the room had been left clear of anything you could use to fight Reeves with. There were tiny windows, but they were not only really high up but also really small. Even if you could somehow manage to eat them you would never manage to squeeze through them. There was really only one course of action left for you. You took the blanket that had been left down here for you and waited at the door for Reeves to come down and check on you. When he finally opened it you hid behind it until he took a few steps down. You then threw the blanket over his head and kicked his legs as hard as you could making him stumble, you took the opening to push him down the steps and flee out of the basement. You came up into a hallway that connected to the living room and rushed out the door. You were more than a bit shaky, you had no shoes, and your body was weak but pushed on by a potent mix of sheer force of will and a strong dose of adrenaline allowed you to propel yourself forward. You ran down the driveway and came to a fence that was entirely locked up. No problem. You could scale this with ease, flee into the woods that seemed to surround this area, and eventually find help on the other side. But the second you touched the fence and electric current ran through your body, causing you to twitch and fall down stunned. It was electrified. Because of course it was. For someone he was worried about dying in battle he sure as shit did not seem to underestimate you when it came to you trying to escape. It didn’t take long for him to come running, you had hoped you may have been lucky enough to at least have broken a leg or ankle as he fell, but it seems he was unperturbed by his recent push. You were too shaky at this point to do anything other than let him pick you up and hold you close. “It’s okay, I know you’re scared, I forgive you for pushing me. And sorry about the fence, can’t take any chances.” He carried you back down to the basement and sat you down gently on the couch, laying the blanket that you had formerly used as a weapon on top of you before kissing your forehead, which made you flinch away in disgust. “Now that we are living together I will be able to give you the non-stop attention you deserve. I am sure you will love it here eventually, okay?” “Not okay you absolute fucking idiot, there is no way in the world I will ever love you or even remotely tolerate your presence! Just let me go! The war is already over anyway.” “There is always another war eventually and I must keep you safe from yourself. I just can't risk losing you, can’t you understand that?” You just scoffed in response and pulled the cover over your face so you didn’t have to look at him. Reeves tried rubbing your arm comfortingly through the blanket, and you could do nothing to stop given how shaken up you still were, but he could smell in your scent that you were growing increasingly angry and even a bit anxious at his touch so he finally retreated upstairs to make you a nice dinner. He remembered from years of service with you that you got pretty cranky when you were hungry. When he came back he brought with him a bowl of delicious smelling crab bisque, something he thought was fairly light and easily digestible, but not too light and still full of nutrients. He sat the bowls down on the coffee table and sat on the opposite side of the couch from you. “Sorry about the furniture accommodations. I will move a table and bed down here for you eventually. At some point you will share my bed but I felt like an adjustment period might be good for you first.” “Yeah, so I don’t murder you in your sleep,” you said dryly and without any hint of it being a joke. “Y-you don’t mean that, you’re just a bit cranky because you need some foo-” **CRASH** He was interrupted by you using your hand to smack the bowl of bisque right the fuck off the table and into the hard concrete wall, not unlike a cat that had taken offense to a cup on a table. “It’s… okay… I made more than enough. I know this has been hard on you.” All you did was blankly stare at him as he went and procured another bowl. It smelled great and you were well and truly hungry, but you refused to give in. If you made sure not to eat too much your body would not trigger a heat because it would take too much energy. You also just wanted to piss him off, maybe get him so pissed off that he either lets you go or at least makes some mistakes that you can exploit. When he handed you the second bowl he had gotten for you it immediately met the same fate as its predecessor. He stared at you for a long moment that seemed to span an eternity before he angrily grabbed his bowl of food and pulled you close to him by his arm. He pinched your nose closed so you had to open your mouth and then he shoved a spoonful of food into your mouth, then he held his hand over your mouth so you had to swallow. Reeves continued this a couple times until you got the memo and ate the rest of the bowl willingly. Well… you had wanted him to be pissed. Over the course of weeks you had to accept that you just had to eat what you were given, but by no means did you just give up on making life inconvenient for him. Every gift tossed, any furniture he brought down here destroyed, blankets shredded, anytime he scented something it would be immediately quarantined to the closet after its destruction. The only thing you kept was clothing you deemed acceptable and without his smell on it, you needed clothes but would not accept any with his pheromones. That could be misconstrued as you accepting courtship. You were perfectly content with denying him any ounce of love, affection, or friendship and you were right in the middle of giving a nice silent treatment when finally the proper nutrition and your omega nature convened to ruin everything. You were in heat. Heats were very strong on a normal day, but this was not a normal heat, this was the first heat in a very long time. You had prevented them for a long time in the black site and when you were in the navy of course you took prescribed suppressants. You hadn’t had one in years. Tremors shook your body, you couldn’t stand and your body temperature was heightened. They didn’t call it a heat for nothing. Your brain was addled, you were dizzy and almost delirious, you could barely remember why you were here. You tossed off the covers and stripped down to your slick soaked underwear. Reeves was awoken by an amazing scent and knew immediately what it was, your pheromones beckoning him even from his bedroom, his darling needed him desperately. The smell demanded he come immediately to you and comfort you and take care of you in every way imaginable. Reeves saw you there before him, writhing in carnal need and so small and helpless in front of him. The couch wouldn’t do, he needed a bigger and more familiar space, he took you up to his room where he had actually made and maintained a nest made of things that smelled of the both of you. Despite a vague notion in the back of your mind telling you to avoid him, scratch him, and leave this situation, your instincts and the powerful consequences of having denied yourself your natural cycle DEMANDED that you bury your nose into the scent gland of his neck. So strong, such a strong mate. Reeves was elated, his brain was very much fogged too with lust and instinct but he didn’t have it as badly as you did. He was very much aware that his darling mate was finally accepting and even actively seeking out comfort from him. The shark man peeled off your slick saturated underwear, sniffing at your hole, breathing in the heavenly aroma you made, before your cries of desperation and something inside of him told him to slide his tongue right inside. Finally you began to feel the smallest amount of relief. It wasn’t enough, you needed a knot. A nice big knot from a nice big alpha, and this one smelled strong. You grinded yourself into his probing tongue, whimpering for much more. After several minutes of this he decided that was enough of getting your flavor and he was now ready to properly breed and mark his sweet little brat. He took off his clothes, revealing his large well muscled pecs, lightly scarred from years of combat, and his large cock. The musk coming from it made you drool. He wasted no time ramming into you, as caught up in the moment as he was he had little concern for going slow or for any possible discomfort. Fortunately there was none, you were perfectly primed for his large prick. It slid in you perfectly hitting all the right spots inside of you, causing you to squeal with delight when he bottomed out, deep within you. He moaned himself when he felt your heat and how every movement you made, every shudder, squirm, and all that writhing, he could feel on his cock. He started slow at first, but that was not what either of you wanted and soon it turned into a messy slamming of you, making hot wet sounds as he battered your innards with his cock pistoning in and out. It did not take long at all for his knot to start to swell within you and then reach its full size, sealing the two of you together whether or not you would want it when post heat clarity hit you. You clung to him tightly as he bred you, nails clawing at the skin of his back, as if trying to pull him deeper inside you. He nuzzled into your neck, his nose swimming in your scent as he breathed it in, this is what he had wanted for so long and now he knew he would never regret his actions, everything had been worth it. Reeves licked your neck and bit down on your scent gland, sharp teeth buried into your neck, you whimpered at the sensation and he licked your neck comfortingly, holding you close as you both shared a powerful orgasm. You both panted from the intensity, the heat that was burning up your will power and clarity fading a bit, but not enough to be yourself again. Reeves knew on some level that when things went back to normal you would still resist him, and your convictions would not be so altered in subsequent heats now that you had one after so long, but this was a good start to everything finally falling into place. Your heat would last days and there would be a lot of breeding and a lot of bonding. His instinct to protect you would only get stronger and you would be a bit more susceptible to his pheromones and would naturally seek him out for comfort when in distress. He may have been part fish, but it was you who were caught in his net.

[becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys]

Eisteddfod Chairs: Pick Your Winner!

It's almost June! Nearly time to reveal the 2023 Chair! So come, gather round Tumblrs, let me tell you of the furniture-based customs of my people

So Wales has been celebrating Eisteddfodau (festivals of poetry, music, and disco dancing), in some form or another, since at least the 1100s, when Lord Rhys of Dinefwr had one all formal-like and made it into a big fun party and that. The word basically means 'sitting place', and probably refers to the way people in summer would gather round the twmpath in the village to listen to bards that passed through and drink mead and shout 'hurrah!' a lot. Amazingly, this is not where the Chair Thing comes from.

Part of Welsh history is the Bardic Age, and it was custom for bards to travel the country and visit the courts of assorted gentry types (also normal people's houses and taverns and twmpaths but let's stay on topic) and play for them. If the lord paid well, great; if not, the bard would write a Super Mean Song about them and sing it everywhere, so they were pretty well treated.

But if they were particularly good, rather than making them play for the WHOLE meal, the lord would offer them a chair at the table to join in the feast as a guest, rather than a worker, and THAT is where the Chair Thing comes from.

Anyway that's preamble to say that every year in the biggest Eisteddfod of all - the Eisteddfod Genedlaethol - the highest honour awarded goes to the Prifardd - the bard who writes the winning cywydd (super complex Welsh poetry WE DON'T HAVE TIME TO EXPLAIN ALL OF THIS). And the prize for writing the winning cywydd is that you are awarded, you guessed it, the Chair.

Now these Chairs (capital C, please, we like a bit of Fantasy Novel Capitalisation and for this cultural reason I will never understand people who complain about it) are unique. They are thrones. They are carved each year by one chosen carpenter, who crafts a one-of-a-kind Chair with symbolism and that, never to be replicated. They usually have the year carved on, but otherwise, they vary wildly in aesthetic and symbolism. In a No Award year (because Eisteddfod judges don't subscribe to the Western idea that there HAS to be a first, second and third place; if no one is good enough there is no award, and I have seen choir competitions for seven year olds where there was no first or third place but there were two choirs in joint second), the Chair is sent back to the carpenter who carved it, and they get to keep it. In a year where the bard died before the ceremony, it is draped in black, and given to next of kin.

(That has only happened once. RIP Hedd Wyn, 1887-1917. Also the only reproduced Chair; the original, known as the Gadair Ddu (the Black Chair) is on display in his family home, but a 3D printed replica has been made for display by Amgueddfa Cymru)

BUT THEREFORE a big part of Eisteddfod fun is seeing what the Chair will look like this year. Traditional ones, see, we tend to think look like variants of this:

(Apologies for the substandard attempts at alt-text; I have no clue how to describe these properly)

This one is from 1896. The phrase "Y gwir yn erbyn y byd" means "The truth against the world", and was included in a lot of old ones. Modern ones tend to incorporate the druidic symbol for awen ("poetic inspriation") instead. Some of these incidentally turn up in lil' chapels and that about the country.

But actually even the old ones were mad different, look; clockwise from top left, these are y Gadair Ddu (1917), 1876, 1926 (when the carpenter was Chinese and enjoyed the cultural fusion), and 1908.

Still the same theme, though, but in the modern day the carpenters are all off the shits! They're all over the place! Fuck the rules! And I have Opinions.

Category: I See What You Did There

SYMBOLISM!!! 2011 is a pit wheel from Wrexham's mining past! 2013 is the head of a harp, from Denbighshire's cultural harp-making past! 2017 is fish, from Anglesey's maritime present! Fantastic. Love it.

Best in category: 2017. Why does Anglesey's have so many eyes on the fish? We don't know. Wylfa B protestors reportedly furious.

Category: The Modern Throne

TALL!!! That silhouette! That height!! They have the range, darling! Christ knows 2016 doesn't have anything else going for it! Shout out to the Conwy river on 2019, the different woods from the forests of Maldwyn for 2015, and the red kite symbolism for Ceredigion in 2022 (the spiritual home of the bird, where the species was first saved).

Best in category: 2019, Conwy. I like the bridge and the river lines and the water effect on the front of the seat it's just so pretty.

Category: That's Just A Chair

(I am actually friends with the Prifardd who won 2018 at the bottom there :D )

WHAT ARE RULES WE JUST WANT FUNCTIONAL CHAIRS. Man even so 2014 was fucking ugly. You could have 2018 in your house. Around your table, like. Even 2012 has a sort of IKEA vibe that's boring but palatable. 2014 is only coming in the house under sufferance.

Best in Category: 2018, easy, and not just because it's the one I'm most likely to get to sit in one day. It's pretty.

Category: NO GODS NO CHAIRS NO MASTERS

WHAT

WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED IN 2010

BRO I DO NOT THINK YOU TRIED

Best in Category: OBVIOUSLY 2021 I COULD PHYSICALLY MAKE 2010 MYSELF

[zvaigzdelasas]

Celebrity chef José Andrés' World Central Kitchen, among the largest providers of desperately needed humanitarian aid to Gaza, is pausing its operations following the deaths of 7 workers in an Israeli airstrike, the organization said Tuesday.

Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu said an investigation into "a tragic case of our forces unintentionally hitting innocent people" was underway.

Despite coordinating movements with the Israeli military, the convoy was hit Monday as it was leaving the Deir al-Balah warehouse, WCK said. The team had unloaded more than 100 tons of humanitarian food aid brought to Gaza on the maritime route.

The workers killed include a Palestinian and citizens from Australia, Poland, United Kingdom and a dual citizen of the U.S. and Canada. [...]

Haaretz reported that Israelis fired three missiles in quick succession at three vehicles[...]

Netanyahu vowed Tuesday to probe the deaths of the World Central Kitchen workers.

"It happens in war," he said [sic]. "We are conducting a thorough inquiry and are in contact with the governments. We will do everything to prevent a recurrence."[...]

Hamas condemned the "heinous act" and demanded the U.N. Security Council put an end to Israel's "crimes of the occupation and its aggression" against Palestinians and their supporters.

"This crime reaffirms that the occupation still insists on the policy of systematic killing against defenseless civilians and against international relief teams and humanitarian organizations, within the framework of efforts to terrorize their employees, to prevent them from continuing their humanitarian duties," the militant group said in a statement.[...]

“I am heartbroken and appalled that we, World Central Kitchen, and the world lost beautiful lives today because of a targeted attack by the Israeli military," CEO Erin Gore said.[...]

The United Nations agency charged with leading the humanitarian aid effort in Gaza has complained for months about obstacles created by Israeli officials. In a report issued Monday, prior to the WCK tragedy, the United Nations Relief and Works Agency (UNRWA) said that "access impediments continue to severely compromise the ability of humanitarian actors to reach people in the Gaza Strip." Since March 1, 30% of humanitarian aid missions to northern Gaza were denied by Israeli authorities, the agency said.[...]

The obstacles prompted other efforts, including sea shipment such as the one World Central Kitchen was using Monday. The U.S., partnering with Jordan and other regional nations, has also used airdrops. But trucking aid in from Egypt is viewed as the best method for meeting the tremendous demand.

2 Apr 24

[nyarumie]

Brains to Brawn. (Chapter 1)

narumi gen x f!reader — 1.7k words, co-workers to lovers, narumi loves kisses, multiple parts, semi canon compliant, in denial reader.

STATUS: Ongoing. Chapter links: 1, 2, 3

Author's Note at the end! Happy reading ♡

Cross-posted on ao3.

Requests, prompts, or any messages are appreciated! Just open my ask box.

The shift in the tides of the First Division wasn't subtle. It wasn't the way the large bodies of water swayed with greater force against Ariake Maritime Base's sturdy walls, nor did it have to do anything with Regular Officers being transferred from one division to another.

The first change in the atmosphere was when Second Division Captain, Hikari Shinomiya, died. Tense. Strict. A single drop of needle could disrupt the entire defense force—ironically seeming so quiet despite the sounds emerging from the Officers' even more rigorous training.

The second wave of change felt rowdy, raucous—but hopeful. Narumi Gen had made quite the scenario even before officially joining the Defense Force. An unleashed combat power of 24% even without donning a suit at least once in his life, showing great aptitude potential for Kaiju No. 1 weapons, and... having a blatant display of disrespect and chaos, as the higher ups would describe. What seemed to be the hope of the nation turns out to be the First Division's biggest headache. Most times.

The third was when things started to be more obvious—to most people, a shift in leadership means a shift in everything. Shortly after Narumi joined the Defense Force, the Head of Operations eventually had to retire. Kurusu was given the prestige to be the young Head of Operations. At the same time, Narumi had already been appointed as a Platoon Leader, a sign that the youth will shoulder the fate of this country and power will emerge across all divisions.

The next wave is you.

From the previous year, the Defense Force's annual selection involved both Officers and Operators. You were tempted to apply in both, for simple reasons: As an operator, you know you're extremely smart—emerging at the top of your class in university and having reading as a hobby enhanced your intelligence. 

On the other hand, you simply think it would be fun to try the Officer Selection Trial. Who knows? You were pretty athletic, diving here and there to save volleyballs on your university's sports fest. Hell, you even won an MVP award twice.

But you have bills to pay and concerts you'd love to attend, so you let the rational part of your brain win and opt for the safer option. With a fellow youngster like Kurusu leading the Operations, all worries about bonding with your co-workers were thrown out the window.

In fact, it seems like you went overboard with bonding with them. You all were friends and swore to do your job properly so as to stick together til the end, but how come you're the only one facing this... baffling scenario?

'A little fun in your normal working day as an operations manager won't hurt', they said.

'The captain won't find out about this anyway', another added.

You should've known that the normal working day applies only to your co-workers. You, on the other hand? It literally changed the trajectory of your life—for better or for worse. Internally groaning, you wondered why you didn't push harder when you were against their idea of 'fun'.

When your co-workers suggested doing something for fun, you never thought it would be testing out each other's unleashed combat power, if you even have them; you're all managing the operations, after all. Doing calculations in your head, you estimated you'd all be getting a percentage ranging from 1% to 3%.

After pleading with Kurusu for what felt like an hour, your little unassuming friend group got permission to use the combat power technology. 

"I'm an MVP for volleyball in our University, y'know? If I get an 8%, maybe I can smash a ball or two on a yoju's head. Might get recruited on the spot too.", you said with humourous arrogance.

Your co-worker who was prepping the machine chimed in, "We don't have balls for weapons. And don't get your hopes up, the most you'll be getting is probably a 2%. It's impossible for anyone to get a 0% after all."

With a pout, you denied that you're hoping for a good result. You're pretty satisfied with your job, anyways. Good pay, safety secured—what else could you ask for?

"Alright, prep done. Who's up first?" 

"Oh, I'll go! I proposed the idea, so I should be the one taking the first step!" said your enthusiastic co-worker. There were only 4 of you anyway, enough to fall into a line, letting yourself go last.

Sometime along your little fun, Kurusu entered the room, feeling uneasy about giving permission against official purposes. As expected, your friends got a range of 1% to 3%. They were all cheering as you got ready to lay down, as you were initially against the idea of having fun with these machines.

"Show us your 8%, then!" they laughed.

You rolled your eyes at them as your co-worker is sticking the device to certain pulse points to extract your body conditions. 

"Keep your head straight and calm down. I'll activate it in a few minutes. We wouldn't want any irregularities in your readings—like you getting 8% from your volleyball experience." she snorted. 

Following further instructions, you closed your eyes and kept your composure. It surprisingly felt comfortable, despite the hard surface. It's probably because you haven't slept well comfortably in so long.

"Extraction in 3, 2, and 1..." 

It was Kurusu who surprisingly spoke this time. "Well... You almost got an 8. You're on 6%." he announced, still looking confused at the screen. 

"Can somebody give me a gun? Or a sword?" you asked.

You thought their necks will snap at how fast they turned their heads to you. They looked at you as if you just had asked for the most incredulous thing, which in this case, does sound frightening. 

"Gonna kill us for doubting you?", they joked. "What for, though?"

"Trying to see if I can get that combat power up if I hold those. We're already having fun here, wouldn't hurt to test a few more things, right? Just don't let anyone know of this, or we'll all lose our jobs." you said.

They turn to Kurusu, eyes hopeful, asking through their gazes if it's still within his given permission to issue weapons.

Curiosity piqued, he didn't hesitate giving approval this time. "Alright. Just do make sure to get some less powerful weapons." With a sigh, he mumbled, "My first year as head operator and I feel like I'll already lose my job..."

Once you were provided with your 'weapons', you were instructed by Kurusu this time. "Just hold them as naturally as you can. You may choose between the two weapons provided. Lay them down next to you if you don't want it tested."

Holding the gun in one hand, you heard their countdown go off again. You let yourself relax while waiting for the results.

"Huh. A small increase, but quite a feat. You're smart for suggesting to hold these weapons. It's actually now on 8%. Try the dagger."

You let go of the gun and did as you were told. It took you a while to get as natural as you can while holding the dagger, but decided to not put in any effort as you were just having some 'fun' anyways.

"...That was higher than the gun. 10%. You're unbelievable." 

'What's so unbelievable about that?' you thought. Not a single result elicited any reaction from you. Hell, now-promoted Platoon Leader Narumi had a whopping 24% even as a normal civilian. Why would yours be any unbelievable? Maybe it's the first and only time an operations manager got this number. Who in their right mind would test this out for fun anyway?

"Hey, I'll try holding both of these. Let's end our fun and curiosity here." you announced. By this time, you just want this to end. But you are as intrigued as they are, hence suggesting a final test. For some reason, you felt yourself become uneasy at the last attempt. You know it never ends good whenever a sudden wave of uneasiness washes over you, so you force yourself to keep the relaxed state you were previously in.

From your peripheral vision, you saw Kurusu nod. You took both weapons in your hand. The procedure repeats, for the last time.

And then there was silence. You thought you fell asleep, but moved your fingers just to confirm you're still awake. Opening your eyes, you turn to look at your co-workers who were currently gawking at the huge screen.

"Um... You..." started Kurusu. "You uh, just got an 18% unleashed combat power with both weapons in your hold." 

Oh.

Now that's unbelievable. 

"...And our fun little session ends here! Can somebody assist me here so I can continue my work?" you asked in a rush.

"No. You stay there, I'm not done with your analysis. I'll have to command everyone to go back to their stations." Kurusu said, seriousness suddenly taking over his voice.

He continued speaking, "Not only do you have an 18% unleashed combat power, you also have a potential aptitude for Kaiju no. 3 cells." 

It's as if your ability to speak was taken. 18% unleashed combat power sure is something for someone in your level, but to have an aptitude for an identified kaiju...? No wonder he asked them to leave. Word about this finding mustn’t spread, at least, not for now. Your co-workers are new in the job, so they probably don’t know how to identify an aptitude reading for identified Kaiju.

"Um... So... Do we report this to the Captain or something?" you hesitantly ask after a few minutes of blanking out. You don't know what else you can say at the moment, totally taken aback by the suddenness of it all.

Before Kurusu can even respond, you hear a voice coming from the doorway.

"Huh. No wonder those operators flocked out of the room in a hurry. I've spared you the job. The old man is already informed." 

Your eyes widened, soul leaving your body upon hearing it. You know you'd have to eventually report this to the Captain, but this soon? And what's worse, that voice...

Standing lazily at the doorway with his phone in one hand is no other than the newly promoted Platoon Leader, Narumi Gen.

Author's Note(s):

My first fic! I've actually never wrote anything like this before, as I've only spent my entire life writing academic papers 😭 Thus, constructive criticism and feedbacks are always welcome!

I also apologize for any inaccuracies in the terminologies I used, my brain is pea-sized when it comes to some canon minor details.

I thought I'll be able to finish this in a single chapter, but I think a max of 3 wouldn't sound so bad. I can't write continuously or my head will explode omg

I'm not sure about the holding weapons thing, but I included it here based off how they tested Mina to have great aptitude for guns. I also recall a chapter saying Soshiro's combat power for firearms is so low, hence why he's a close quarters combatant.

Also, about the Kaiju No. 3 thingy, It's not gonna be canon compliant since we don't have any info on that identified Kaiju so I'll just be making stuff up for the sake of this fic lol.

[solarpunkani]

PHILADELPHIA (AP) — Dockworkers at ports from Maine to Texas began walking picket lines early Tuesday in a strike over wages and automation that could reignite inflation and cause shortages of goods if it goes on more than a few weeks.

The contract between the ports and about 45,000 members of the International Longshoremen’s Association expired at midnight, and even though progress was reported in talks on Monday, the workers went on strike. The strike affecting 36 ports is the first by the union since 1977.

Workers began picketing at the Port of Philadelphia shortly after midnight, walking in a circle at a rail crossing outside the port and chanting “No work without a fair contract.”

The union had message boards on the side of a truck reading: “Automation Hurts Families: ILA Stands For Job Protection.”

Local ILA president Boise Butler said workers want a fair contract that doesn’t allow automation of their jobs.

Shipping companies made billions during the pandemic by charging high prices, he said. “Now we want them to pay back. They’re going to pay back,” Butler said.

He said the union will strike for as long as it needs to get a fair deal, and it has leverage over the companies.

“This is not something that you start and you stop,” he said. “We’re not weak,” he added, pointing to the union’s importance to the nation’s economy

At Port Houston, at least 50 workers started picketing around midnight local time carrying signs saying “No Work Without a Fair Contract.”

The U.S. Maritime Alliance, which represents the ports, said Monday evening that both sides had moved off of their previous wage offers. But no deal was reached.

The union’s opening offer in the talks was for a 77% pay raise over the six-year life of the contract, with President Harold Daggett saying it’s necessary to make up for inflation and years of small raises. ILA members make a base salary of about $81,000 per year, but some can pull in over $200,000 annually with large amounts of overtime.

But Monday evening, the alliance said it had increased its offer to 50% raises over six years, and it pledged to keep limits on automation in place from the old contract. The union wants a complete ban on automation. It wasn’t clear just how far apart both sides are.

“We are hopeful that this could allow us to fully resume collective bargaining around the other outstanding issues in an effort to reach an agreement,” the alliance statement said.

In a statement early Tuesday, the union said it rejected the alliance’s latest proposal because it “fell far short of what ILA rank-and-file members are demanding in wages and protections against automation.” The two sides had not held formal negotiations since June.

“We are prepared to fight as long as necessary, to stay out on strike for whatever period of time it takes, to get the wages and protections against automation our ILA members deserve,” Daggett said in the statement. “They must now meet our demands for this strike to end.”

The alliance said its offer tripled employer contributions to retirement plans and strengthened health care options.

Supply chain experts say consumers won’t see an immediate impact from the strike because most retailers stocked up on goods, moving ahead shipments of holiday gift items.

But if it goes more than a few weeks, a work stoppage would significantly snarl the nation’s supply chain, potentially leading to higher prices and delays in goods reaching households and businesses.

If drawn out, the strike will force businesses to pay shippers for delays and cause some goods to arrive late for peak holiday shopping season — potentially impacting delivery of anything from toys or artificial Christmas trees to cars, coffee and fruit.

The strike will likely have an almost immediate impact on supplies of perishable imports like bananas, for example. The ports affected by the strike handle 3.8 million metric tons of bananas each year, or 75% of the nation’s supply, according to the American Farm Bureau Federation.

It also could snarl exports from East Coast ports and create traffic jams at ports on the West Coast, where workers are represented by a different union. Railroads say they can ramp up to carry more freight from the West Coast, but analysts say they can’t move enough to make up for the closed Eastern ports.

“If the strikes go ahead, they will cause enormous delays across the supply chain, a ripple effect which will no doubt roll into 2025 and cause chaos across the industry,” noted Jay Dhokia, founder of supply chain management and logistics firm Pro3PL.

J.P. Morgan estimated that a strike that shuts down East and Gulf coast ports could cost the economy $3.8 billion to $4.5 billion per day, with some of that recovered over time after normal operations resume.

The strike comes just weeks before the presidential election and could become a factor if there are shortages. Retailers, auto parts suppliers and produce importers had hoped for a settlement or that President Joe Biden would intervene and end the strike using the Taft-Hartley Act, which allows him to seek an 80-day cooling off period.

But during an exchange with reporters on Sunday, Biden, who has worked to court union votes for Democrats, said “no” when asked if he planned to intervene in the potential work stoppage.

A White House official said Monday that at Biden’s direction, the administration has been in regular communication with the ILA and the alliance to keep the negotiations moving forward. The president directed Chief of Staff Jeff Zients and National Economic Council Director Lael Brainard to convene the alliance’s board members Monday afternoon and urge them to resolve the dispute fairly and quickly — in a way that accounts for the success of shipping companies in recent years and contributions of union workers.

[workersolidarity]

[ 📹 Scenes from the destruction wrought by an Israeli occupation airstrike which targeted a vehicle being driven by 7 foreign aid workers belonging to the World Central Kitchen, killing all inside. Among the dead included foreign citizens of Britain, Poland, and Australia, along with a dual American and Canadian citizen. The aid organization said it had coordinated the movements of its personnel with the Israeli authorities, who knew the vehicle contained humanitarian aid workers.]

🇮🇱⚔️🇵🇸 🚀🚀🚙💥 🚨

ISRAELI OCCUPATION BOMBS FOREIGN AID WORKERS, CONTINUES BOMBING ACROSS GAZA ON DAY 179 OF GENOCIDE

On the 179th day of "Israel's" ongoing war of genocide in the Gaza Strip, the Israeli occupation forces (IOF) committed a total of 7 new massacres of Palestinian families, resulting in the deaths of no less than 71 Palestinians, mostly women and children, while another 102 others were wounded over the previous 24-hours.

In the latest occupation atrocity, the Zionist army bombed the vehicle of a group of Foreign aid personnel working for the World Central Kitchen (WCK), killing 7 employees, including 6 foreigners.

"World Central Kitchen is devastated to confirm seven members of our team have been killed in an IDF strike in Gaza," the organization said in a statement on its website.

According to the World Central Kitchen, despite coordinating the organization's movements with the Israeli occupation army, a convoy including two armored cars branded with the WCK logo and one soft-skin vehicle that were carrying the WCK team while it was traveling through a "deconflicted zone" was struck by an Israeli bomb, destroying at least one of the vehicles.

WCK says the team was leaving their Deir al-Balah warehouse, in the central Gaza Strip, where their teams unloaded more than 100 tons of humanitarian food aid brought to Gaza through a maritime route, when the convoy was targeted by Zionist forces.

“This is not only an attack against WCK, this is an attack on humanitarian organizations showing up in the most dire of situations where food is being used as a weapon of war. This is unforgivable,” World Central Kitchen CEO, Erin Gore is quoted as saying.

The seven foreign aid workers killed in the Zionist strike included citizens from Australia, Poland, the United Kingdom, as well as a dual-citizen of the United States and Canada, and one Palestinian.

“I am heartbroken and appalled that we—World Central Kitchen and the world—lost beautiful lives today because of a targeted attack by the IDF. The love they had for feeding people, the determination they embodied to show that humanity rises above all, and the impact they made in countless lives will forever be remembered and cherished,” Erin Gore added.

In response to the International outcry over the atrocity, the Israeli occupation authorities said they will be “carrying out an in-depth examination at the highest levels to understand the circumstances of this tragic incident.”

The World Central Kitchen has suspended its operations in Gaza as a result of the incident.

In yet another atrocity yesterday, the Israeli occupation army bombed the Iranian consulate building in the Syrian capital of Damascus, killing several high-level Iranian officials, including 7 military advisors of Iran's Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps (IRGC).

In response to the strike, Iranian Supreme Leader, Ayatollah Seyyed Ali Khamenei said in an announcement issued on Tuesday that the "evil Zionist regime will regret" it's crime of assasinating Iran's military advisors in Syria.

The Iranian leader said that both Brigadier General Mohammad Reza Zahedi, a commander of the IRGC’s Quds Force, and his deputy, General Mohammed Hadi Haji Rahimi were killed in the strike, which targeted the Iranian consulate in Damascus, declaring the crime was perpetrated by the "usurping and dispicable" Zionist regime.

“The evil regime will be punished by our brave men. We will make them regret this crime and other ones, by God's will," the Iranian leader added.

As Israel's crimes spread outside the occupied Palestinian territories and the Gaza Strip, and into the wider West Asian region, the bombing inside Palestine continued unabated.

In just one example, local civil defense crews recovered the bodies of six Palestinians who were killed, including two children, along with a number of wounded civilians, following a Zionist occupation airstrike targeting the Zarub family home, located in the city of Rafah, in the south of the Gaza Strip.

In another atrocity, several Palestinians were killed and a large number wounded after occupation artillery shelling targeted a number of residential buildings in the city of Khan Yunis, also in the south of Gaza, focusing artillery fire on the eastern and central parts of the city.

Meanwhile, Zionist warplanes bombed the al-Bashir Mosque, in the city of Deir al-Balah, in the central Gaza Strip, martyring a several civilians, including the death of at least one child, and wounding at least 20 others, while also dealing significant damage to neighboring residential buildings.

Similarly, Zionist fighter jets fired several missiles that slammed into two residential homes in the Al-Zaytoun neighborhood, southeast of Gaza City, while occupation artillery shelling targeted the Tal al-Hawa neighborhood, along with the Sheikh Ajlin neighborhood, martyring three civilians and wounding six others.

Over the last day, as the Zionist occupation army withdrew from the Al-Shifa Medical Complex, located in the Al-Rimal neighborhood of Gaza City, which had been the largest and most well-equipped hospital in the entire Gaza Strip, a scene of mass destruction and carnage was revealed, with hundreds of bodies littering the hospital grounds, including some bodies discovered with handcuffed wrists, having been extra-judicially executed in cold-blood.

Among the bodies recovered from Al-Shifa were doctors and healthcare personnel, along with entire Palestinian families, which the Gaza Media Office says were just a small part of the roughly 400 citizens that were killed in two weeks of fighting near the hospital.

About another 900 Palestinians were arrested or detained by Zionist forces under suspicion of belonging to Resistance groups, while the Hospital buildings themselves were nearly completely destroyed, blown to pieces and left as scorched shells by the American bombs dropped on them by the Israeli occupation army.

As a result of "Israel's" ongoing war of genocide in the Gaza Strip, the infinitely rising death toll has now exceeded 32'916 Palestinians killed, more than 25'000 of which being among women and children, while an additional 75'494 others have been wounded since the start of the current round of Zionist aggression beginning on October 7th, 2023.

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@WorkerSolidarityNews