digitalcitizen

[digitalcitizen]

Nope. Not on FanFic.Net

Hello Friends:

I've had a couple of curious messages about my work on FanFic.net I have not been on FF.net for many, many years under Polly Lynn or under Hunsdon (a name I used for a brief time in a futile attempt to get some peace). If someone is writing there under those names, well . . . no clue what to do about it, except to reiterate: 'Tis not I.

[digitalcitizen]

An overview of workplace organising

So you've started a new job and, unfortunately for you, there's no union. Not even a place where you and your co-workers can winge about work. So how do you resolve that? How do you Organise™?

Organising activities generally fall into the following (and often overlapping) groups:

Mapping and charting

You cannot even start organising without first understanding your workplace. Where do people work? Where are the break rooms? Who is friends with who? What positions and responsibilities do they have? How do you contact them? Etc, etc, etc.

Answering these questions is key - and often required before you can even begin talking to co-workers. Of course, this is a continuous process and, once you've got a few folks on your side, this can be a collaborative process.

One-on-ones

In organiser circles, there is a tendency to want to leaflet everywhere to announce your presence, and then immediately gather all workers together in a big meeting to then discuss unionisation efforts. This is an almost surefire way to get yourself fired and kill any appetite for organising among co-workers. On top of that, it is incredibly impersonal, shyer voices will get pushed to the side for more vocal, and potentially more conflict-driven voices.

In the IWW, the union I organise with, we emphasise the importance of one-on-one conversations, as you can find a lot more about your co-workers that way, and often things that might get lost in a huge meeting.

Of course, there is no harm in these larger meetings once you've got the ball rolling. But starting off, one-on-ones are key.

Identify movers and shakers

Some co-workers will be well-connected in the workplace. Some will be naturally more likeable than others. Some might have held social events or helped out a few other co-workers in the past. These people are your social "leaders" (for lack of a better word).

You usually want these co-workers on side as soon as you can. If you don't get them on your side, the boss or management will get them on theirs, which makes unionising efforts so much harder.

They are also very useful during organising efforts and can help out with one-on-one conversations.

Recruitment

Asking people to get involved in a union, especially in a workplace that is hostile to them, can be very tricky (and terrifying). But this is a crucial step.

Get people involved in the organising committee, create officer roles to carry out particular tasks, fill those roles democratically, and recruit your co-workers to the union.

You will actively have to reach out to people in this step. We cannot rely on the "self-starters" who are already interested and are bold enough to ask "How do I join?". A workplace is made up of everyone in it, even the shyer workers - especially the shyer workers in my experience! The union is for every worker.

Additionally, as time passes, it gets very difficult to ask people to join. Some people will start seeing benefits in their workplace but without actually putting in any of the work and think "Well, why bother?"

Planning

Once you've got a few co-workers together, have an active group of you mapping, charting, reaching out to members, and identifying issues, then you've got to start planning how to address these issues.

Pick something, anything, no matter how small. Sometimes it can be an issue where the workplace hasn't got enough office stock. Sometimes the door to the building jams and needs a couple of people to shove it open. Find the issue you want to organise around and plan how to resolve it, together.

The issue you identify can also be used to recruit more people to your cause.

Public actions

Finally, it's time to go public. But what does this look like?

I outlined a lot of actions in my previous post here. But a lot of these may be overkill depending on the issue. Sometimes you can get away with less aggressive action.

The typical way this is done is a march on the boss. This is a great way to start the escalation process and sometimes will get you what you want immediately. Of course, no action is perfect, and you'll have to get creative as the boss pushes back more and more.

In conclusion...

This was a general overview of the organising process. Of course, for brevity, a lot was skipped over. Before trying to carry any of this out, I'd recommend you take part in some form of organiser training with your respective union - the IWW Organiser 101 training is fantastic, just as an aside!

Best of luck in all your organising efforts!

Stay safe and solidarity, fellow workers! xox

[digitalcitizen]

Don't ever hesitate. Reblog this. TUMBLR RULE. When you see it, REBLOG IT.

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[digitalcitizen]

Source

Source

[digitalcitizen]

"If you fail, father, to teach your son to fear God, the devil will teach him to hate God. If you fail to teach your son to guard his mind, the devil will gladly teach him to have an open mind. If you fail to teach your son to obey his parents, the devil will teach him to rebel and break his parent’s heart. If you fail to teach your son to select his companions, the devil will gladly choose them for him. If you fail to teach your son to control his body, the devil will teach him to give it over completely to lust. If you fail to teach your son to enjoy the marriage partner that God has given him, the devil will teach him to destroy the marriage. If you fail to teach your son to watch his words, the devil will fill his mouth with filth. If you fail to teach your son to pursue his work, the devil will make his laziness a tool of hell. If you fail to teach your son to manage his money, the devil will teach him to waste it on riotous living. And if you fail to teach your son to love his neighbor, the devil will gladly teach him to love only himself."

John MacArthur

[digitalcitizen]

kate's 365 days of male characters

day 91: richard castle castle

[digitalcitizen]

[digitalcitizen]

Unmute !

[digitalcitizen]

Alan Alda’s send off to Loretta Swit

[digitalcitizen]

"Don't use Libby because it costs libraries too much, pirate instead" is such a weird, anti-patron, anti-author take that somehow manages to also be anti-library, in my professional librarian-ass opinion.

It's well documented that pirating books negatively affects authors directly* in a way that pirating movies or TV shows doesn't affect actors or writers, so I will likely always be anti-book piracy unless there's absolutely, positively no other option (i.e. the book simply doesn't exist outside of online archives at all, or in a particular language).

Also, yeah, Libby and Hoopla licenses are really expensive, but libraries buy them SO THAT PATRONS CAN USE THEM. If you're gonna be pissed at anybody about this shitty state of affairs, be pissed at publishing companies and continue to use Libby or Hoopla at your library so we can continue to justify having it to our funding bodies.

One of the best ways to support your library having services you like is to USE THOSE SERVICES. Yes, even if they are expensive.

*Yes, this is a blog post, but it's a blog post filled with links to news articles. If you can click one link, you can click another.

[digitalcitizen]

[digitalcitizen]

8x18 fic prompt: beckett tells castle how he betrayed her in her dream

Staying In the Loop

Gentle fingers trip along her spine, making lazy circles and swirls on a path to the curve of her shoulder. It's an absentminded touch, meant to lull instead of excite, and Kate finds herself drifting, basking in the contact and the silence that's only broken by the quiet rhythm of their breathing.

"I take it you liked the surprise," Castle hums after a few minutes have passed, amused satisfaction dripping from every word.

Beckett snorts, sinking deeper into the sheets and pressing into his hand. Yes, he is proud of himself, and he should be.

"It wasn't what I expected," she admits. "Of course, I wasn't expecting anything…"

"I know you weren't," he murmurs. He drops his head, dotting a kiss to her shoulder. "Except you kind of did."

Lifting a hand, she brushes her fingertips over his jaw. Castle nuzzles into her touch, scraping his stubble over her palm.

"I was a little bit mean to you about it - my dream, I mean."

He smiles and the movement of his lips tickles her hand. "I think I can forgive you. Especially after this evening's activities."

Even as she chuckles, she feels a pang; he hadn't deserved to be hassled beyond a little bit of teasing about his actions in a dream. He hadn't done anything to her in the real world, and his sneakiness to restore her motorcycle had been the opposite of malicious. Why had she assumed his intentions to be harmful, just because she'd picked up on his machinations subconsciously?

"Still, I'm sorry."

Rick kisses her palm. "What'd I do in this dream, anyway?"

Licking her lips, she considers making a joke, brushing off the whole thing and drawing his head down to hers to make him forget.

"Kate?"

"You went to Gates," she admits, ducking her head to kiss his shoulder. "You went to Gates and told her all about the LokSat investigation, and it got me demoted, practically fired."

He stiffens underneath her, making her lift her eyes in alarm.

"Rick?"

Her husband shakes his head emphatically. "I haven't gone to Gates, Kate. I wouldn't. Not-"

"Unless you thought I was going to get myself killed," she finishes for him, resting her forehead against his. "I know. I know that. But in the dream, it was just… it was a regular day, and you decided to tell her everything, and it cost me my job. It was like you did it out of spite. I was so, so angry with you."

"I could tell," he quips, but he touches his lips to her forehead, too. "I only ever want to keep you safe; you know that. I-" he exhales, "well I guess I can't say I would never do that, because I have, but…"

She lifts an eyebrow, squirming beside him so she can prop herself on her elbow. "You've learned your lesson, since you risked brain damage the last time?"

"Yes. But also, if I want you to keep me in the loop, I have to do the same for you."

Kate nods. "Yeah."

Rick brushes his knuckles over her cheek. "I'm sorry for what dream me did."

"I'm sorry I blamed you for what dream you did," she says, leaning over to kiss him.

"I'll make sure that idiot doesn't do it again," he murmurs against her mouth, sinking his fingers into her hair.

Kate shifts, lifting the sheet just enough to throw a leg over his hips and settle her weight on him once again. "Good."

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hope you liked this, Anon! Thanks for being patient! This has, apparently, been sitting in my drafts for a while? I have no idea why I never posted it. But here it is!

[digitalcitizen]

today is not my birthday

[digitalcitizen]

3 word prompt - beckett, allergic, cats

#289 (set during Beckett’s suspension summer)

—–

He was really excited about something. She didn’t know what; he seemed to love surprises disproportionately more than she liked being surprised. 

Which was not at all. Which was why she was so hesitant about showing up to his place after his day-long squirming-in-place excitement. But this morning he had stood in line for those fist-sized muffins that were all the rage in the city, and then he had come to her place with those and the gourmet coffee, and they’d been interrupted when she’d tried to thank him…

So Beckett scraped a hand through her hair and thumped on his front door.

She could do this. They could do this. A surprise. Game face.

“Beckett.” He opened with a wide grin even as his mother descended the stairs in her satin robe and sleep mask pushed up. 

Martha lifted a fluttering hand to her throat. “Darling, Katherine, next time? please do try not to sound like the police are pounding down our door.”

She winced. “Sorry, force a habit, Martha. I apologize-”

But his mother was already waving her hand and ascending the stairs once more. “Rehearsal in the morning. Have a good night, darlings.” But she did stop at the top and turn around, pointing a finger at Castle. “If that thing keeps me up-”

“Mother, hush.”

Beckett turned to Castle. “What’s-”

“Nothing, come on. In here. I’ll show you.”

“You’ll show me… nothing?”

“Alexis got a pet,” he squealed. No, surely he wasn’t really squealing. Except he was actually, he had squealed, his shoulders hunched up and his face alight with glee and she wasn’t sure how in the world she’d fallen in love with this man.

This man who squealed.

He was tugging her by the hand towards the office, his fingers thick and warm and strong-

Oh, that was part of it. Why she was in love with him. Though she hadn’t known then what she knew now about how wonderfully strong and thick those fingers were.

“Come here, look, look,” he said, and pulled her right over to the black leather couch.

Upon which a single ball of orange fur rested.

“Is that-”

Castle scooped it up and in one movement held the mewling, squirming thing right up to her face. “An adorable sweet kitten. Look at her. Isn’t she so-”

Kate sneezed.

Hard, loud. Jerking backwards with it. 

She stumbled over an armchair and had to clutch at the back to keep her balance. “Castle.” 

He looked astonished. Cat hanging in his cupped hands, about to spill out. “Kate?”

He stepped forward and she jerked back. “No, hang on, wait.”

Castle stopped suddenly. Cute malevolent ball of fur.

“I’m allergic,” she said. Held up a hand. “Highly. Don’t…”

“Oh.” His face fell. “I thought… I offered to keep her while Alexis is in Africa.”

“Africa?” she gasped. “When did Africa happen, Castle?”

“Uh, like, no, I swear, just today. Today. I think Alexis wanted to…” He trailed off and his face went slack. “Oh.”

“Oh, she bought you a kitten to butter you up for Africa.”

He winced. “She bought me a kitten to butter me up for Africa. Wow. I did not even see it. I was so…”

“Blinded by a ratty orange mewling-”

“Hey, now. It’s cute.”

“It’s a ginger,” she said flatly.

He narrowed his eyes. “As are my mother and daughter.”

“And an ex-wife.”

“Are we having a fight?” he hissed.

“Over a nasty cat?” she hissed back. “No. Just. I can’t be here while that’s here.”

“Wow, that’s really-”

“I’m allergic, Castle. My eyes swell. Everything itches. I can’t stop sneezing. And then, if I stick around long enough, my throat closes up and-”

“Okay, yeah, done. I’ll send the cat with mother to the theatre tomorrow. She’ll find a home for it. Uh… in the meantime-”

“In the meantime, I’m going to my place before I get any on me-”

He smirked.

She narrowed her eyes, continued. “And if you take a long hot shower and scrub really good, I’ll let you come.” She paused long enough for him to get the message. “To my place.”

Beckett turned on her heel and strode back out of his office.

She would be putting a moratorium on surprises.

—–

[digitalcitizen]

Prompt: 🌂 🔮 👄

#358 

—–

Beckett shivered in the quickly cooling air, pulled her trench coat tighter around her, cinched the belt. She had stopped under the awning for a palm reader, though she had no intention of going inside, but now she was watching sheets of rain pound the New York City sidewalks.

Rain soaked the concrete edifices, drenched the piles of uncollected trash, made the thin trunks of urban-renewal trees a vivid slash of brown. Her hair was hanging damply around her shoulders, beginning to curl, and she knew she couldn’t stay here forever.

She had a date.

Her lips turned down and she stepped backwards into the barred window of the tarot shop. Crossed her arms over her chest. 

Not that she was thrilled about the date. She’d just felt like it was time. She was tired of being so by-the-book, her nose to the grindstone, the wet blanket at all their precinct social events.

(Social events? They went to bars and pretended they weren’t getting drunk to erase the particularly bad case away. They went to bars and happily got drunk to celebrate a good ending. They went to bars. That was her social life, and she didn’t do that like the rest of them because the specter of her father’s alcoholism hung over her head.)

But Lanie had set this up after the fireman thing had gone sour. Make-up dinner with Castle had been nice, but no, not a date. Not expanding her horizons and getting out of her comfort zone and-

“Beckett?”

She should have known she’d see him. In a city of millions, in a rain storm as wet as a flood, Rick Castle was striding down the sidewalk under an oversized umbrella.

“Castle,” she sighed, resigned to it.

He ducked under the awning with her and carefully held the umbrella away as he closed it, shook it out a little onto the sidewalk. Fat drops sprayed, but Castle was looking at her, his too-smooth grin on his face.

“Fancy meeting you here. At my fortune teller.”

“At your-” She spun around and saw the evil eye hand in the window, groaned. “Of course. Of course.”

“You know what’s funny? Last month she said I should come late to my next appointment-”

“Next appointment? She’s not your chiropractor, Castle.”

“She’s a consultant. She’s quite good.”

“She’s a charlatan who googles you an hour before you show up to make sure she knows the latest.”

“You’re just a unbeliever.”

She rolled her eyes, wishing she could wait out the storm somewhere else. With other random strangers of New York.

“As I was saying, she told me to come an hour later for a pleasant surprise. And here you are.”

Or she had a scheduling conflict, but Beckett was tired of being the patient rational one. “I’m sure that’s what it was. She knew I’d be here waiting out the rain when, a month ago, I didn’t even know I’d be going on this date, let alone-”

“Date?” His interest gleamed in his eyes, like it always did, but there was a tightness around his mouth she’d never noticed before.

Maybe she’d never been quite this close to him before. The awning was small, the wind was blowing rain in at his side, and he was crowding her.

She just… hadn’t realized he was crowding.

She liked him crowding.

What was wrong with her?

She shifted to one foot to ease some space, but he came in right against her, their raincoats brushing. 

“What date, Beckett?”

“Another of Lanie’s,” she admitted with a sigh.

His eyes traced her face and she turned her gaze back on the rain, that uncomfortable awareness rising in her once more. 

“Forget him,” he said. “Blow him off. Come to dinner with me.”

“Wha-” She turned in astonishment, but he was right there, he was leaning into her with his urgency and certainty, and there was nowhere for her to go.

Their lips brushed.

She should have knocked into his cheek first, or his chin should have caught her nose. Other body parts ought to have collided before their mouths.

He moaned.

A fire burst into flames inside her. She stepped into him and caught his nape, pushed against his mouth for more, something stronger than the electric discharge of lips.

He groaned and grabbed for her, the umbrella clattering to the sidewalk. She stretched up against him, their trench coats hooking, belts and buttons caught, but she had no desire to untangle them.

All her desire was in this kiss.

—–

[digitalcitizen]

Three word prompt: Beckett massages Castle

#274

—–

When she slinks inside, far too late tonight, he picks his up from the arm of the couch and lays his book flat to his chest. “Mornin’,” he drawls. “How’d it go after I left?”

If the words are pointed, it’s probably her own guilt sharpening those edges. “Morning,” she whispers, still cautious. “Fine?”

“No need for that,” he says. “I’m supposed to be writing.” Cheerful as he waves the paperback whose cover is bent. She can’t tell what it is, but roughly three hundred pages of trade. “This is better than Nikki at the moment, but I could be persuaded. If you’re good.”

She steps out of her shoes, shedding her coat and bag. “Are you propositioning me at three a.m.?”

“If you have to ask,” he rumbles.

“Sorry that I’m late,” she admits.

“You’re not.” His face flushes. “Not sorry, I mean. You are late, but late for what? Dinner? We had dinner at the precinct about six hours ago. After the beast tackled me.”

She wrinkles her nose because that is actually pointed. “Received, loud and clear.” She maybe should have come home with him, played doctor or sympathetic girlfriend or whatever his whimpering needed.

Keep reading

[digitalcitizen]

Don't know if you're still taking these but here goes. Three word prompt: POL kids edition.

#312 (Dash Universe)

—–

The loft is too quiet, even with Rex waiting for her at the door.

Kate Castle puts her briefcase on the floor and drops her keys, squats down to rub at Rex’s ears, pet his long body, love on him as he bumps his body into her. Silently, all of it, not even a woof or yip in greeting.

It’s no fun being the one left behind. “Work sucks,” she tells Rex and the dog squirms into her arms and between her legs. “Let me change and I’ll take you out for a run. Some small consolation.”

Rex barks at her then, jumping away and then back, prancing on his paws like a pony.

“You’re as weird as your boy,” she laughs, standing up to step out of her heels. Rex noses into one and sniffs hard enough to make him sneeze. “Oh gross, my shoe. Rex.” She pushes him away her foot. “Get. Go on. These are expensive and you have chew toys nearly as.”

She leans down and picks up her heels just in case, swipes at the inside of the left shoe where Rex’s happy slobber has sprayed. The dog follows her back to the bedroom, and inside the bathroom even, watching her.

“You’re just happy to have one of your people, aren’t you? I know, it’s lonely with everyone gone.”

Rex growls back at her, his happy noise, like a cat purring only it’s the dog’s way of rumbling in his chest with all his joy. She washes her hands and strips off the silk shell, tosses it onto the pile for the dry cleaner’s. She skims off her slacks and folds them a little more carefully, replaces them on the shelf.

She changes into running shorts and sports bra quickly, grabs a tank from the drawer and has to check the tag to be sure it’s not Ellery’s. Back in the bedroom, Rex reappears with his leash - she could’ve sworn she put it back in the laundry room, hanging up - and she laughs and praises him for it anyway.

“Good boy, smart boy.”

Kate reapplies deodorant, smears sunblock on her shoulders and nose, her forehead where that damn vein has reappeared. She needs to eat a little better, put some calories back in her body. Castle will kill her if he comes back to find her haunting the place.

“Okay, minor correction, Rex, sorry. I need a protein bar or something. Didn’t have time for lunch.” She bobs the top of his head as she passes, moving quickly down the hall for the kitchen. “I’ll get you a treat and then we’ll go. Promise.”

She passes the entry and scoops up her phone, texts the group chat home, missing you guys, taking your dog for a run, wild man even as she fishes a protein bar from the pantry.

The first week was wonderful; she won’t lie. Everyone out of the house, out from underfoot, no more fighting or bickering or shrieking, dinner wherever the hell she wants, working late and not having to worry about disappointing anyone.

It got old fast.

Now she misses her baby. She even misses Rick’s dumb face. And his warm body making the bed too hot. And making coffee with Dash. And trying to-

Her phone vibrates, and the alerts come in all at once, one after another, from everyone.

She unlocks her phone, half a protein bar in her mouth and she sees Rick, Ellery, and Dash have all texted her.

Proof of Life

Proof of Life

Proof of Life

There are three photos, selfies, one from each of her family: Castle mugging on a deck chair by the pool with his mirrored shades, which show his phone and Dashiell crowding in close; Dashiell treading water in the pool with the phone raised so high that his goofy narrow face fills the whole screen; and finally, her baby girl, Ella, those too-long legs, the black two-piece, flashing a peace sign with her shades on.

Kate swallows a lump in her throat and lifts her phone, reverses the camera so they can see her face. For a moment, the image projected back at her couldn’t possibly be her.

But it is. She looks tired and thin and unhappy. She remakes her face and lets the proof life shine through instead. The joy of seeing them outside, in the sunlight, having fun.

She squats down with the dog and corrals him around the neck, pressing in close, and she takes the picture even as Rex licks her face. She sends that, and when she finally looks at it, her eyes are squeezed shut, a laugh erupting, Rex’s long tongue against her temple.

She bites her lip, watches the photo go out into the ether.

She clips on the dog’s leash, pats his side, and then her phone vibrates right as she stands.

From Castle, and only Castle, a private chat.

That’s my girl. Come up this weekend. We miss you.

—–